#no idea if I’ll finish this my lower back is tap dancing on me and i have a test tomorrow and all i wanna do is write this stupid sleepover

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

I think ur the most normal about sonic 3

I am THANK YOU

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the shed

lilac, chapter ten

a/n: the drama is here, folks. it has arrived. welcome.

summary: “he’s here,” you shuttered, your words barely above a whisper.

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, kinda mob!ex-boyfriend vibes, angst, crying, violence

word count: 2358

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“Hey, Otto,” you smiled warmly as the small town’s sheriff untangled his scarf from around his neck and marched up to where you were wiping a small table down with a damp cloth, “Donna should be here soon if you wanna sit with her during lunch.”

“Oh, I’d love to,” the seasoned man sighed longingly, “but unfortunately the stack of paperwork I left at my desk won’t allow me to hear the latest gossip. She’ll just have to fill me in tomorrow.” 

“So, to go then?” the rag in your grasp finished up its cleanly dance across the smooth woodgrain. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, thinking out loud as he glanced down to stuff as much of the scarf into his left pocket as it could bear, “right now I’m thinking a sandwich, unless, what’s your special today?” 

“Uh, it’s a dahl,” you informed him, carefully folding up the wipe as you stepped closer towards the kitchen door, the sheriff shadowing the short journey, “got lots of spinach and stuff in it.”

“Oh, it’s dahl day? Well, then forget about the sandwich, I’ll have some of that with rice, just rice, and maybe if you could also fill up my thermos with some fresh coffee, that would be great,” he opened up his coat and conjured the nifty decanter from a roomy inner pocket. 

“You got,” you uttered before he handed the flagon off to you and your feet carried you the rest of the way into the kitchen, “hey, dad?” you gently patted his shoulder as you walked past his stance by the stove to get to the coffee maker. 

“Yeah, sweetie?” he halted his stirring and tapped the turmeric-stained spoon on the edge of one of the simmering pots before resting it back down on a little plate to the side. 

Unscrewing the top off of the pastel yellow thermos, you gingerly streamed in some of the requested brew, “can you pack up a portion of dahl with rice for Otto?” 

“Yep, yep,” he fished out a spatula from one of the jugs on the counter that simply overflowed with various utensils, “tell him it’ll be one second.” 

Entering the dining space once more, you handed off the filled thermos to sheriff Nilsen, “here,” who now sat on one of the chairs, “he says it’ll just be a moment.”

“Thanks, kid,” he flashed you a warm smile just before you turned on your heel, “you have a great rest of your day, yeah?”

“You too!” you glanced back over your shoulder with a small wave. 

As you strode towards the lobby and the thick stack of mail you still hadn’t sorted through, a voice began to catch your ear. 

“Fiancé?” old lady Edith’s shrill tone cut through from around the corner, “well, I had absolutely no idea she was engaged,” as you entered the lobby from behind the front desk, your gaze seized to take in the individual the elder was conversing with as your fingers were too busy scooping up the stack of letters, “and to a fella as handsome as you? Well, isn’t she lucky.”

“Well, she just likes to be modest. One of the many qualities I adore about her.” 

Your body instantly froze as the man’s low timbre filled the inn. The shuffling of mail halted as terror shot down your spine.

Slowly raising your panicked eyes, they only seized to grow wider as they glazed over the back-turned individual standing opposite Edith. Shifting his stance, he uncrossed his arms and lowered them to his sides, the crisply up-twisted black button-down sleeves framed in and nearly made it impossible for you not to take in the sight of the recognisable ink that slithered out from under the hem, curled around the honied skin of his forearm and ended right on the back of his ring adorned hand. 

As the letters fell from your grip and casketed over the desk and onto the floor like a fallen jenga tower, the dull commotion managed to catch the pair’s attention as Edith’s hooded eyes trained upon your frozen frame and to your horror, the very reason for you being back here in the first place, turned around as well to spot you. 

“Oh,” a chillingly perfect smile spread across Preston’s lips, “hey, doll,” his tone ever casual as if he’d just talked to you two minutes ago, “there you are.” 

With your heart nearly bursting out of your chest, you didn’t even register that your feet had begun to move before you reached the backdoor out through the sunroom. 

Ripping it open, you sprinted out and over the porch, your speed only increasing as the dewy grass stained your shoes. 

Your eyes were wild, raking across the terrain, franticly attempting to come up with a plan as you went, but swiftly they locked upon where the thick forest began to bloom just beyond the patchy field that stretched between it and the inn’s garden. 

But as you glanced back over your shoulder, the panicked plan of escape withered and died as you spotted your ex marching through the sunroom, his visage clear through the latticed glass of the door. 

Whipping your head around, you spotted the small decrepit tool shed just a few paces to your left. Rushing to the rickety structure, you sucked in a sharp breath as your desperate push to one of the tattered double doors caused the faintest of clangs to reverberate from the rusty dinner bell that decorated the outside as an echo of the past. 

Gingerly shutting the door after you slipped inside, careful as to not evoke any more alarms and ruin your hiding spot, the lack of a lock on the simple doors had completely slipped your memory as your blurry vision stared down at the rudimentary pull handles and nothing else.

Hyperventilating and nearly feeling like you’d faint, you instead pulled over a dust-covered table and pushed it up against the exit, a few screws rattling and rolling off it as it settled in its new place.

Eyes transfixed on the doors, your feet began to back up, not halting till the rough wood of the far side wall stopped you. Reaching into your pocket, you blindly fished out your phone and dialled up the only number you could think of. 

“Hey, I was just about to call you,” Frank’s contrasting tone flowed out from the receiver, “thought I’d maybe swing by when I'm done here in town–…” although his genuine words abruptly ceased as a shuttering cry trembled from your lips, “…Y/n? What’s wrong?”

Your body shook so fiercely that keeping a hold of your phone proved to be a daunting task.  

“F-Frank,” you sobbed. 

“What, what is it?”

“…he’s here. He’s here,” you uttered shakily through your tears, “I walked into the lobby and there he was, I–, fuck…” you squeezed your eyes shut a moment, “Frank, what do I do?”

“Alright, listen to me,” his tone changed in an instant, “did he see you?”

“Y-yes,” you tried your best to keep your voice hushed. 

“Where are you?” 

“I hid in the old shed out back, but, shit, I'm not sure if–” 

Your fear then came to fruition as the doors suddenly rustled, bumping against the makeshift blockade before the attempt was dropped and a low knock instead found your ears. 

“He’s here,” you shuttered, your words barely above a whisper.

“Doll?” Preston’s voice seeped through the rotten wood, “I know that you’re in there,” he tried to shove the doors open once more, the whole world seeming to quake at his attempt. 

Eyes darting around the dim space, you spotted a small broken window to your left. Raising up your elbow, all of the adrenaline that pumped throughout your veins didn’t even let you register the pain as you slammed it against the remaining bits of jagged glass that were stuck to the window, as well as when the remaining short shards stabbed your palms and scratched up the screen of your phone as you desperately began to crawl out. 

“Come on, just open up the door, I don’t have time for any childish games.” 

The sudden sound of the door crashing open and the table scraping across the floor shot straight into your bones. 

Already halfway out, your knee bent up to hoist the remaining half of your shaky form out of the narrow opening, but just as you twisted to do so, a bruising grip grabbed hold of the leg and tugged you back inside, sending you crashing down upon the concrete floor. 

Motes of dust seemed suspended in the air as you coughed on the cold ground. Steadying yourself with your bloodied palms, your hazy vision found your phone by your side, shattered and completely dark. 

Seizing the crown of your locks, he yanked you back up to your feet.

“Now why would you do something like that, huh?” he uttered in such a mundane tone that you’d almost rather have him yell. Dragging you with him towards the doors and still hung agape on the rusty hinges, he grabbed a petite shovel that rested on the messy table and jammed the wooden shaft through the loops of the two handles. Gliding his dominant hand up your frame as he backed you up, the long fingers swiftly enveloped your throat as your back slammed against a wall, “I just wanna have a little conversation with you,” like splintery sandpaper, the rough wood scraped against your spine, and your eyes squeezed shut, “uh uh,” the stinging grip he had on your hair loosened, drifting his knuckles down your cheek in a cruel caress as he demanded, “look at me when I’m talking to you,” your whole frame jerked as you felt him land a harsh slap across your cheek, “show me those pretty eyes,” and your bloodshot glare blinked open, “there,” he wiped the tears that trickled down your face, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” your gaze flickered down to the ominous ink that glazed the appendage clasped around your airway. The head of the snake that decorated the back of his palm nearly looked like it was about to come alive and bite into your jugular vein, “you know, if you wanted to go on a little trip back home, all you had to do was say so, we could have figured something out.” 

Soon, your hands fluttered up to warily drift on either side of his, a shift that caused his jaw to clench. 

“Doll,” he glared down at your lacking jewel, “where’s your ring? Did you misplace it again? If you keep doing that, then I’m just gonna think you don’t like it,” his head tilted to the side in an almost sombre manner, “what, was the diamond not big enough? If you want something more showy, you know all you have to do is ask, money’s just money. Maybe a sapphire? You could look like Princess Diana. Hell, if you want the real thing, I know a guy,” his face slowly inched closer to yours, “I would do anything for you, you know that right?” he proclaimed with an eerie smile upon his lips, “anything, that’s how much I love you. Even if you can’t always wrap your simple little head around the reasoning in the moment,” his free fingers moved to brush some of your dishevelled hair into place, “it’s always because I love you.”

“Preston, please,” your voice was low as you gasped, fretful fingers lightly tapping against his unyielding grip, “you’re hurting me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he warned softly, rage crackling in his fiery gaze, “you don’t do that,” ignoring your struggling, he went back to wistfully fixing your hair, “you just stand there, like the pretty doll you are and be perfect for me.”

“C-can’t breathe–”

“Oh, you can’t?” his brows furrowed mockingly, “is this better?” he asked as his ring-adorned fingers tightened around your throat and squeezed so taut that no air could reach your lungs, “you are mine,” he pressed his lips to your cheek as your eyes fluttered and your limbs fought against the inevitable fate of shortly passing out, “you will always be fucking mine.”

But just as the world began to slip out from under you, a loud crash found your ears. Forcing your eyes to open, you witnessed as the door got kicked in, the improvised lock shattering into shards from the blow and scattering across the dirty ground.

Glaring over his shoulder, Preston exclaimed, “who the fuck are you?” 

Only looming in the doorway for a fragment of a second, Frank didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer as he rushed to rip Preston off of you.

As you crumbled to the ground, painful coughs escaped your frame. The shed still felt like it spun beneath you as your hazy gaze fluttered up to see Frank pin Preston against the wall. As if you were underwater, their voices seemed miles away as you watched Frank’s callused fist repeatedly collide with the side of your ex’s face. 

This wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. Every thunderous crack prompted a dreadful pit to dig itself within your gut. You weren’t doubting that Preston didn’t deserve this, but you had also come to learn a fragment of the truth of just how few of those punches it took for Frank to have an individual no longer breathing.  

Frantically casting your gaze everywhere and anywhere, past the garden, out in the driveway, the faint sight of the sheriff, lunch in hand, tossing his scarf around his neck and strolling back to his car, found your fuzzy vision.

Stumbling, you crawled out the door and weakly pulled yourself up enough to reach the short rope that hung from the old bell, the looming unconsciousness steadily catching up to you as you strained to do so. 

Ringing the bell once, twice, and on the third time, just as you saw Otto whip his head around in your direction, your vision finally faded to complete darkness as you crumbled to the ground. 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[danime25]

Rockin' Around

ao3 // normal masterlist // christmas masterlist

*Summary: Sebastian and his wife celebrate the holidays doing what they know how to do best, sing

*Rating: E for Everyone

*Content/Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, It's What Sebastian Deserves

*Status: Complete

“La.”

“La.” The man matched the female voice, hitting the note on his piano as well.

“La.” Her note goes up an octave. He matched her once more with his piano before clearing his throat. “That’s too high for me honey.”

“That’s okay.” She smiled and walked behind her husband. She wrapped her arms loosely around his shoulders. He reached out and arranged his sheet music before loosely warming up his fingers across the keys

“This still plays like a dream.” He looked back at his wife

“It better. You have no idea how much I paid to have this thing tuned up to perfection before it got delivered.” She rested her chin on top of his head. She started humming the notes she read off the sheet music and Seb matched her with his piano. “Jingle bells, jingle bells.”

“Jingle all the way.” He finished the line for her

“Mommy.”

“Yes dear?” She turned around to see her oldest daughter. She pulled away from her husband and lifted her daughter up

“I don’t want to go to sleep. There’s only a couple more nights until Christmas.”

“Well you can’t stay up until Christmas.” She explained to her daughter

“Why not?”

“Well then you’ll be really tired, and who knows who might open your presents if you’re not up.”

“No no no!” She whined. Her mom kissed her head to calm her down

“It’s okay. That’s why you need to go to bed tonight.”

“Okay…” Their daughter didn’t seem too happy, but she seemed to accept this

“Do you want to sing with mommy and daddy quickly?” Sebastian looked over his shoulder at his girls

“Yeah.” His daughter smiled, trying to escape her mother’s grasp. Her mother let her go and she slid onto the other side of the piano bench. She tapped at some keys quickly before looking up at her father

“What should we sing? Should we sing… rudolph?” His fingers quickly played a jazzy version of the classic. His daughter giggled, but shook her head, “Okay not Rudolph, what about Silver Bells? Or Jingle Bells? Or we can sing Deck the Halls?”

“How about we sing Rockin around the Christmas Tree?” His wife offered

“I don’t know that one mama.” Their daughter whined

“But I like that one.” Sebastian matched his daughter’s tone before readying himself to start the song. He played a couple of free form notes before going back to the familiar melody of the Christmas classic and his wife joined in. After they got that song out of their system, Seb started playing the notes to Frosty the Snowman for his daughter. He put her hands on the high keys that he could reach if he wanted to, but instructed her when to play her notes instead. “Frosty the snowman…”

“Was a fairytale," they say,” His wife continued. His daughter got up mid-song and started dancing and his wife attempted to mimic what her daughter was doing. When the song was over, Sebastian switched over to a slower song, hoping it’d be enough to tire out his daughter so he and his wife could have some time alone. Sure enough his daughter slumped against the bench and he scraped her off his back. He got up and carried her to bed and kissed her head as he tucked her in.

“Good night, sleep tight.” He whispered, moving the hair off her forehead, “Sweet dreams of Frosty, Ariel.” He stepped away and went through the door and back into the living room where his wife was playing freehand on their piano. He kissed the back of her head and asked, “You taking requests?”

“For you, anything my love.”

“Can you play…” He thought for a moment, “I’ll be home for Christmas?”

“Sure.” She started playing and he put his hands down on the lower end of the piano to start playing an accompanying melody for her to sing to, “What are you doing honey?”

“I want to hear you sing.” He smiled at her

“Fine. Go ahead and twist my arm.” She laughed and got up from the seat to sing along to the song. “Happy?”

“More beautiful than Karen Carpenter herself.”

“Stop.” She laughed and wrapped her arms around his shoulders again. She pressed her lips onto his and smiled, “I love you Seb.”

“I love you too.” He put his hands on her waist and danced slowly across the room until the two went to bed themselves.

[solarisrasa]

All I Could Bring Myself to Want is You pt 5

A Malec fic canon divergent from the moment Alec hands the Family Ring back to Maryse Lightwood.

Read it here on Ao3

part four

Awareness came slowly, rolling over Alec like syrup and leaving him feeling sluggish. He pushed himself up, familiar and much missed golden sheets pooling around him, and squinted around the room in the fading light. It took longer than he liked for his mental functions to grasp his surroundings and the time.

  Angel, how long was I asleep?

He scrubbed a hand over his face, blinking rapidly. He could hear the low murmur of Magnus’ voice and decided to make himself slightly more presentable before facing his possibly-maybe-boyfriend.

After a quick trip in the bathroom and a change of clothes, entirely his own this time, he steeled himself and headed to the living room.

Magnus was sitting in his blue chair, head tipped back and phone held to his ear.

“Cat, I will tell you when I think it’s a good time. For right now, let us try to straighten ourselves out.”

Alec paused, then decided he might as well sit down. Magnus would notice him in a second anyways.

“He’s awake now, so I’m going to go. Give my love to my Sweetpea and tell her I’ll visit soon.”

Alec missed Madzie too, but he had no delusions to Catarina’s feelings for him and respected her right as a parent.

“Goodbye Catarina.”

Magnus sat upright, lowering his phone, and looked at Alec with a small smile.

“Sorry. She’s been...concerned. About both of us.”

Alec nodded, “You’re her best friend. I’m surprised she wasn’t angry I was here. Well, not angry enough to show up at least.”

Magnus frowned at him and Alec looked at his folded hands. He felt off-balance again. He was well-rested for the first time in forever, Jace wasn’t with him, and he had no idea where to begin with Magnus.

“Are you hungry?”

Reflexively Alec shook his head. He was hardly ever hungry, too focused on just pushing through each minute to do more than eat for sustenance.

“Well I am. Thai sound alright?”

He smiled a little at the easy way that Magnus worked around him and nodded, “Sure.”

Magnus stood with easy grace, flourishing his hands, “Salad rolls and a green curry still your preference?”

He nodded again, thinking about the flavors of the dish and realizing he was actually a little hungry. Probably a by-product of sleeping for so long.

He sat quietly while Magnus placed their order, talking for an extra minute when the man on the line asked why he’d stopped ordering for so long. Alec couldn’t help but relax a little listening to him talk. With a promise of an extra tip and the usual no questions asked about how he picked up the food he finished the call.

Magnus started making himself a drink, silence settling between them. Alec watched him move, drinking in the sight of him in deep red and brown. He’d missed the flash of rings and the extra movements that made it seem like everything Magnus did was a dance. He didn’t realize how long he’d sat and just watched until Magnus was holding a glass out too him. He took it slowly, smelling it first and raising an eyebrow at the faintly tropical scent.

“It’s a little sweet, I thought you might need something, you seem...tense.” Magnus explained, stepping toward the blue chair.

Alec’s hand shot out, wrapping gently around Magnus’ wrist.

“Will you sit with me?”

Magnus looked at him, his own clear drink in his other hand, and smiled. He stepped and sat with exaggerated movements and arranged himself beside Alec so they could brush against each other if Alec shifted just a little.

“Better?”

Alec leaned toward Magnus so their arms touched and sighed, “Yes.”

Silence fell between them again and Alec took a sip of his drink, approving of the sweet coconut flavor immediately.

“These seem a little more dramatic than your usual style.” Magnus said, tapping a finger to one of the runes on Alec’s cheeks. Immediately he averted his eyes, taking a large drink and playing with his ear cuff, “That was terribly clumsy of me Alexander, I apologize.”

Alec shook his head, “No. Magnus, it’s okay. We’ve agreed to start over but we aren’t actually back at the beginning. I just, I don’t know what to tell you first or what you’ve guessed or know or what’s just me overthinking things I-” He sat his drink on the coffee table and turned to face Magnus properly, “I’m so grateful that you’re willing to try again. I know it’s going to take us a while to figure this, us, out and I am trying not to just dump everything in your lap at once. I want to tell you  everything. Hand on the Sword I will eventually, but for right now it’s probably better if you ask whatever pops into your head otherwise I’ll never say anything.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow, “That was rather self-aware of you darling.”

Alec blushed, “I’ve had a lot of time to think about how I managed to screw up before. I’ve also had a lot of input on those thoughts. Jace and I haven’t back off the bond in nearly a year. Today is the most muted it’s been in ages, and it’s only a little quieter. It’s still not comfortable to talk so much but, I have too.”

Magnus inclined his head, his brown eyes searched Alec’s features for something, “So, these?”

He brushed his knuckles carefully against Alec’s cheek.

“Yeah. One is for mom. I want to talk about that, with you, but not...not tonight. The other is for...everything else. You, Clary, all the parts of me and Jace, everyone we did lose in Alicante and the future that  almost was.”

Magnus nodded, then tapped his own cheek.

“I was already going to bear the one for mom, but someplace private. Then we were called to Alicante to give an account of the changes that had happened at the Institute. I received a lot of uncomfortable attention while we were there and there were, and still are, a lot of misconceptions about what happened between us. After a talk with my dad I decided to wear them where it would be plain to everyone that I was too damaged to consider the things they wanted from me.”

Magnus took his hand, grounding him, “What did they want?”

Alec swallowed. He didn’t want to explain this so early into their tentative reconnection, it laid too many things on the table and yet… He knew he loved Magnus and the Magnus still loved him, whatever else was in their way.

“It’s a common saying, that Nephilim love only once. I don’t know how true it is, it’s hard to quantify, but we aren’t a fickle people. When we really, deeply, love we do it for life. It’s rare to hear of someone losing a lover and finding another, but not so unusual to hear they marry or remarry for political standing. Bloodlines, family, it’s important to us. Usually when someone from a family with good standing loses their lover, or often if they don’t fall in love before a certain time, it’s almost expected that they will make a political or social match. It’s why there wasn’t a lot of question around my proposal to Lydia. She had already lost John and I had never looked twice at anyone.”

Magnus had a carefully neutral expression, listening without comment or judgement but his hold on Alec’s hand had tightened.

“It was well known that you were the only person I’d ever really been with and with you gone and an unclear picture of what happened it was widely assumed I would be entering an  arrangement. Especially after I’d stepped down and with rumors flying about being an outcast in the Downworlder’s eyes. I didn’t know how to stop the assumptions and was in very real danger of losing it if I received another offer when my dad talked to me. Mourning runes are symbolic and to wear them prominently after a loss, especially romantic or familial, implies a lack of desire to move forward, a need for time. We almost never wear any rune on our faces, so-”

Alec broke off, gesturing with his free hand to the stark lines on his cheeks. He reached for his drink again, keeping his left hand in Magnus’, and sipped too give himself something to do.

Magnus sat his own glass down, taking Alec’s hand in both of his and rubbing his thumbs over the back.

“I know you Alexander and I know what it must’ve cost you, to wear your pain like that. I am sorry you felt like you had to, but I am also selfishly glad that you chose to. I can’t speak to how Nephilim love, your people are frighteningly good at keeping such things deeply buried, but I know how I love, how I hope you do and the thought of you trying to force yourself into another match for ‘honor and family’ is unbearable. If you want to keep them, it is your choice, but I hope you know you don’t have too. We didn’t hide the first time and I certainly don’t intend to now. Downworld politics be damned.”

Magnus brought Alec’s hand to his lips and Alec smiled softly. Trust Magnus to see him and to know what he needed to hear.

“I haven’t decided yet. Everything has, well, it’s happened so fast. Again.”

Magnus laughed then and it eased the seriousness that had encased them, “We don’t do things by halves Alexander.”

They smiled at each other and Alec felt the spark of magnetic energy that Magnus always created in him pull at him. He finished his drink and set the glass aside, reaching for Magnus. He smiled and came easily into Alec’s embrace. They paused, noses brushing and just breathed one another in before Alec could take it no longer.

Their last kiss had been painful, a goodbye that Alec had been too weak to resist and Magnus too desperate to savor. This kiss was soft, a relief to the core of each of them and a gentle hello. Magnus’ lips were warm against Alec’s and the lingering stickiness of his coconut drink flavored them as they moved together. Alec sat his large hand on the back of Magnus’ neck, holding him gently as he deepened the kiss.

Magnus relaxed into him, his own hands framing Alec’s face as they pressed against one another. They parted enough to look at one another, neither moving their hands, and Alec had to blink quickly as moisture gathered in his eyes. Magnus’ cat eyes looked back at him, a tear rolling down his cheek and sliding into the crease of his smile.

“Hello Alexander.”

“Hi.”

They moved together for another quick kiss and then parted slowly as Magnus’ phone buzzed. Magnus looked more relaxed and Alec smiled at the sight.  

“Our food is ready. Dining room?”

Alec hummed, “Balcony?”

Magnus pretended to think about it but couldn’t stop the creeping grin and the way he looked at Alec made him warm someplace that had been cold for too long.

“Go, snap us our dinner. I’ll grab the forks, and some water.”

Magnus winked at him and stood, brushing his hand against Alec’s shoulder as he went to the balcony.

  Angels, he’s beautiful.

-

When they finished eating Magnus pulled Alexander through a portal for dessert, the two of them sitting in a gelato shop in Italy. It was easy to fall into gentle conversation, Alexander told him about Izzy and Simon and how exasperating it was to constantly walk into the middle of conversations that he wasn’t sure were private trying to deliver his and Jace’s field reports.

Magnus kept his own topics light, mostly musings about redecorating parts of the loft and updating his closet. They were careful to keep away from more heavy conversation but it didn’t feel stilted or unnatural, just like had both agreed to set it aside for a little while.

The shop was quaint and Alexander spoke Italian beautifully, the result of the Latin he’d grown up speaking as easily as English. Magnus had found that tidbit fun, he’d always assumed Alexander simply had a passion for the language or at least a functional need with how often it cropped up in Shadow world dealings. Instead it seemed that Nephilim were all able to speak it and often used it as a universal language when dealing with Institutes around the world.

“I see that Shadowhunters are almost as secretive as warlocks when it comes to matters of culture.”

Alexander’s brows furrowed as he thought and then he shrugged, “We don’t have a lot of need to share ours. Most of it relates to doing our duty or to personal relationships and well, those typically only involve other Nephilim. We never really talked about this stuff before, I don’t know if there are any traditions I ignored for you?”

Magnus laughed, warmed by the consideration, “Not really. There are some vaguely outlined ideas about formal courting. We are an immortal race you know, we hold onto some pretty outdated things sometimes. It’s not required or expected of any non-warlock, or even a young warlock, to know anything about those. Usually formal courting is only done between two warlocks who intend to bind themselves together, a permanent, or at least  very long, commitment. Otherwise most of our culture is tied to celebrations, our laws, and, of course, markings.”

He hadn’t thought before he rattled off the list, swirling the last of his gelato playfully with his tongue but Alexander went still. He swallowed around the cream in his mouth, ready to apologize when Alexander looked back at him, smiling tightly.

“These more than one kind of mark then?”

Magnus winced, “Yes.” He spoke softly, wanting Alexander to understand, “We leave them on those who mean a great deal to us, those who mark our lives, those we love. Sometimes we leave little things on those we dislike as well, though it’s less common. Here.”

He rolled up his sleeve and let Catarina and Ragnor’s marks show. A soft white symbol and a green bloom on the inside of his forearm, raised just enough to indicate they weren’t tattoos.

“These are marks of lifelong friendship, they signify the bond between the three of us, our promise to stand together and to protect and care for one another through all of time. This-” He shifted up his other sleeve to show a pretty yellow flourish, “is a mark of gratitude and friendship from Tessa. These marks are permanent. Not all of them are and I have borne a great many marker of thanks, of fun, of fleeting friendship, and a few that symbolized my opposition of another. Usually we only wear those in times of deep unrest, a sort of declaration of loyalties and lines in the sand. All but one mark is consensual and painless.”

Alexander reached out and touched just under Catarina’s mark, “I’m glad you have these.”

Magnus watched him as he traced the marks with his eyes, “I’m not the only one of us who bears one.”

Alexander flinched, “Magnus-”

“Why didn’t you let Cat remove it?”

He shook his head but didn’t answer and Magnus frowned.

“She told me she offered to and you refused. I know it hurts you, why did you tell her no?”

“It’s my choice.”

Magnus ignored the warning, pushing, “But why make the choice to keep it?”

“It’s my body-”

“It’s hurting you.”

“I don’t notice it anymore.”

“Let Catarina remove-”

“I don’t want to!” Alexander’s voice cut up sharply and Magnus blinked. Gone was the relaxed man he’d managed to coax out, in his place was a hard mask and tight shoulders. Magnus sighed, he’d let himself believe that everything was fine for a moment too long.

“I’m sorry. It’s...It’s my decision Magnus. I-” Alexander was visibly struggling and something curled tight around Magnus’ lungs.

  If I push him too hard he’s going to leave me again.

The thought rose unprompted and Magnus forced himself to breath around it. He’d been caught up in how well they’d managed to come back together he’d not allowed himself to think in detail about how they’d fallen apart.

He saw the shuttered look in Alexander’s eyes and he could remember with perfect clarity the same expression in the low-light of Maryse’s shop. He could remember the pain in Alexander’s face on the balcony outside his office when Magnus had been too drunk not to lash out.

“It’s alright. I’m sorry too. It’s not my place.”

Alexander nodded slowly even as Magnus clenched his jaw. The gentle music that had been soothing a moment ago danced on his nerves now and he sighed, “We should get back. Jace is going to be back soon.”

Again he got a nod. They cleared their small table in silence and Magnus portaled them back to the loft from just outside the shop.

“I need a shower.” Magnus said, stepping away.

Alexander’s warm hand closed around his forearm and he turned slowly to find him looking determined.

“Magnus, nothing is going to make me walk away from you ever again.”

Magnus blinked, breathing in slowly, “You can’t promise that Alec.”

“I am. I can’t control what might happen to me or what you do, but I am never going to be the one who chooses to leave or who chooses for you again. I just...I need you to know that.”

Magnus wanted so badly to believe it but he knew he wasn’t quite the same as he had been before Edom, he knew they were going to have to address the new power thrumming under his skin. There was also the returned immortality and all the rest they had yet to address both about their year apart and Magnus’ past. Alexander had heard some of the ugliest pieces but certainly not all of them.

“I know you want to make that promise.”

Alexander’s expression tightens and he swallows visibly.

“Magnus…” He looks so lost in that moment and Magnus’ heart aches for them both. His expression shifts to one of familiar determination and Magnus braces himself, Alexander always surprises him and this is no different.

“I want you to look at my memories.”

Magnus stared at him in awe. Alexander knew what he was offering, knew that to share memories was to share every emotion he felt in that moment and that it was a terribly vulnerable thing to do.

“Please Magnus. I-I can’t stomach you not knowing how I feel about you, or not trusting it. If I can show you, it might easier than trying to explain everything and I need you to know how much I love you.” Alexander sounded frantic, his hands raising to frame Magnus’ face, “Please.”

“You don’t have too.”

“I  want to. Please.”

Magnus covered Alexander’s hands with his own, “I will, if you still want me to tomorrow. We’ve had a trying couple of days-”

“I slept almost all of today.”

“For what sounds like the first time in a year? Alexander, trust me, we can do this in a day, maybe two. We have  time.”

At that Alexander seemed to finally relax and Magnus pressed their foreheads together.

“We’re doing remarkably well darling, there’s no need to rush everything. You said it yourself.”

He felt another nod and smiled gently, “Let’s take a step back from trying to get everything in the open right this second. I do actually need to shower but first, how’s Jace?”

The blonde had wiggled his way into Magnus’ heart along with Isabelle and Simon and his connection with Alexander only made Magnus love him a little more. He worked hard not to show it so much, it wouldn’t do for Alexander’s family to realize how strong a hold they had on Magnus, or how hard it was going to be for him to face them. He was in many ways grateful that Jace had come attached in full this time and had been the adult among them for once.

“He’s…” Alexander frowned, “I’ve been getting the usual from him when he see’s Clary, but he feels...scared, but in a good way?”

Magnus shrugged easily, keeping his immediate concern out of his expression, “Well, maybe that’s a good thing?”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Magnus watched Alexander’s distracted expression go a little vacant as he concentrated on his parabatai. After a long minute he gasped.

“Somethings happened. I don’t know what but he feels overwhelmed and so...it’s good, whatever it is.” Alexander was smiling now but it was edged with concern and Magnus waited for more.

A minute later Alexander’s phone rang and he grabbed it with a grin.

-

“Jace? Right?”

Jace’s heartbeat picked up and he tried not to show Clary how much this was affecting him as he affirmed, tried to keep himself under control as she touched him for the first time in a year.

He’d felt Alec wake up a while ago and it had been a whiplash of emotions from him since. Things had seemed to be going well until a few minutes before Clary had looked at him and he’d been thinking about heading back earlier to check in on what had caused the sudden desperate hopelessness in Alec. It had leveled off into something quieter though and Jace had relaxed. He had committed himself to staying out of their way this evening and had expected turmoil in the bond.

Now he was so glad that he hadn’t bolted to be with Alec at the first sign of trouble, he would have missed this moment entirely.

“I’m sorry, I-” Clary started again, frowning at her own hand on his skin, “I uh, have this memory problem.” She laughed a little and it was both a wonder and a source of sorrow for Jace, “No one knows for sure what happened to me but I’m missing a few things. We might have met somewhere in there because I definitely know you but I don’t remember how?”

Jace gave her a quick grin and watched her pupils dilate, “Well if you don’t remember me very well, you’ll just have to get to know me again.”

He winked and she laughed, a little incredulous, “Are you serious right now?”

“Deadly.” He schooled his expression into something mock serious and she laughed again.

“Okay. You’re crazy huh?”

Jace rolled his eyes, reveling in her presence, “I’m not the one who remembers strangers.”

He wanted to take it back as soon as he said it, watching her eyes narrow and her lips purse.

“You know, normally I’d call you a jackass for that but, I almost want to laugh. Who even are you dude?”

Jace laughed this time, a little strained and a lot on edge, “I’m complicated Clary. If you want, I might be able to help you with your memory though? Because, yeah, we knew each other a little. I’d need to make a phone call first?"

Clary looked behind her with a torn expression and Jace hurried to add, “Don’t ditch your exhibition for it, I can wait. Let me trade numbers with you and we can meet up later.”

She gave him a considering look and his traitorous heart jumped, he knew when she was going to say yes by now, “You just want my number, huh?”

He held up his hands, “You got me. Beautiful, talented artists who only sort of remember me are my weakness.”

She held out her hand and he sat his phone in it, watching her tap in her number and text herself.

“I’m going to go back inside, but if you don’t mind a late night, I’d love to catch up after?”

Jace grinned, “I’m a bit nocturnal nowadays.”

She looked at him funny but just smiled, “See you later, familiar Jace.”

“See you soon.”

She didn’t look away from him until she had to turn to go back in the building and he ran a hand through his hair looking around in disbelief before quickly calling Alec.

“ Jace?”

“Alec. She remembered me. She knew my name.”

part six

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction | Uses Your Insecurities Against You [Request]

`A/N: The anon is right by the way you’re all beautiful in every way possible, including the anon that requested this. I love you all! Stunning, beautiful peopl all of you! ~ M

CHAN: Insecurity: Clingy

Chan rubbed the bridge of his nose as he stared at the screen in front of him trying to grab some ideas from the air, he had been suffering with writer's block and it was starting to get to him. Normally if he was suffering with it he would call you over, you were his constant muse but this week he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. He was stressed from being put under pressure from his managers to finished a certain amount of songs, as well as making sure he and the rest of the boys were staying on top of their practice. Everything was just piling up on top of him and he didn't need you around to add to the pile, as much as he loved you being there he just needed some peace and quiet which he soon realised wasn't going to happen,

"Jisung told me you were feeling shitty so I bought your favourite snacks," Your voice that was normally heavenly to Chan only made him cringe as he realised you were here. 

"Hey babe, do you mind coming back later? I really need to get this done," He turned around on his chair to face you, trying to get you to leave quickly before things went south but you stood your ground, placing the small basket of food down onto the coffee table. 

"I also got your favourite hot drink, I figured you could use a pick me up." You began explaining everything that was in the basket but it only annoyed him more as you listed everything, ignoring his request for you to leave.

"We can sit on the sofa and eat while you relax for a while-"

"Fuck! Have you always been this clingy or is it just as of late?" Your heart sunk as you stared at Chan who was red in the face, it was now that you took in his dishevelled appearance it looked like he'd slept less than usual and he was clearly beating himself up over something so you let the comment pass. 

"I was just- I wanted to make sure you were okay," Your voice cracked as you tried to get over the comment, moving closer to Chan who simply rolled away from you on the chair and shook his head at you. 

"I want you to leave. You're so fucking clingy! I can't do anything without you being right there on top of me, it's exhausting having a partner who doesn't know what space is!" He was yelling loudly enough that the staff outside his studio had stopped speaking to hear what was happening in the office but you felt like you shrunk in size as he yelled at you so without another word you left him there. Chan knew how insecure you were about being considered clingy, your exes had all said the same thing to you so when you began dating Chan you told him about it, not wanting to have the same problem. You never thought, in a million years, that he of all people would use it against you.

(X)

Later that night there was a knock on your apartment door, thinking it was just the food you'd ordered for yourself you got up to answer it to see Chan standing there holding the basket of food with a giant smile on his face. 

"What do you want?" You asked plainly as you stared behind him, hoping your pizza would arrive so you could take it and shut the door. 

"To tell you how sorry I am," You scoffed rolling your eyes at him, 

"You know exactly how insecure about that I am and you still-" You began sobbing as you thought back on what he said, all he did was wrap his arms around you tightly. Pulling you into a hug, his hugs were the answers to all of your problems, no matter what you were going through as long as he hugged you everything else seemed to be insignificant to you.

"You know how insecure I am about that," You managed to say through sniffles as he kissed the top of your head, rubbing your lower back as he repeated how sorry he was to you. 

"Things with work have been stressful...I just- You weren't listening and I needed you out of there." He knew it was never going to make up for what he had unintentionally said to you but he was going, to be honest with you from the start and tell you what happened. 

"I'll make it up to you if you let me." He whispered as he continued to hold you in his arms, kissing your cheeks as you nodded. 

"Start by paying for my pizza," You sniffled, wiping your eyes when you saw the delivery man walking over in your direction, 

"Anything for you," Chan whispered, handing you the basket so he could get out the cash.

MINHO: Insecurity: Not having Friends (One of my many insecurities lol)

As soon as Minho heard your voice from the hall he rolled his head against the floor of the dance studio, 

"I thought it was just us today," Hyunjin said to Minho, confused as to why you were in the building when it was supposed to be a private practice between him and the boys this afternoon.

"It is," Minho grumbled as he glanced over at the glass panel on the door, you were stood talking with Nayeon so he wrecked his brain at some kind of excuse to get you to leave without being so mean about it. The boys were all stressed out, Kingdom was getting harder with every week so they were having to step up their game, every second of practice alone was important to them. With you there, they weren't able to get anything done. 

"Hey Babe, guys! I got you all some lunch and I figured we could hang out this afternoon?" You glanced over all of their faces and the boys turned to look at Minho for help, none of them wanted to be the ones to send you home but it needed to be done. It was probably best it came from your boyfriend rather than the boys who were just friends of yours, 

"Don't you have plans with any of your friends?" Seungmin tried to come across as friendly, hoping you would somehow get the hint that they wanted you to leave but Minho laughed loudly at the comment. 

"Y/n doesn't have friends, that's why they're always clinging onto us," The room seemed to fall into silence, all that could be heard was the air-conditioner and your rapid breathing as Minho used your number one insecurity against you in front of everybody knowing full well that it hurt you more than anything else he could have said to you. 

"Y/n!" Minho yelled out as you backed out of the room without another word to him, the other boys looking shocked at him as he called you to come back to him. 

"Give them some space...Y/n will just want some time to cool off," Chan said as he placed his hand on Minho's arm wanting him to calm down before he spoke to you but Minho couldn't concentrate on anything else but the look on your face as he said that to you. 

(X)

Minho stared at you from across your apartment as you waited for him to say something, he'd let himself in with his key but you weren't speaking. He'd been sitting on the sofa for an hour without either of you talking, he was just as stubborn as you were about things but he knew he was in the wrong this time. 

"Why did you say it?" That was all you wanted to know, why he'd felt the need to use one of the biggest things you were insecure about in front of everyone, laughing about it as if it was something funny when it wasn't. 

"I just- I need you out of there, I've been stressed and I know that will never be a suitable excuse but I was." You rolled your eyes at him, sitting down on the opposite sofa to him as you listened to what he was saying, 

"You could have told me, I would have left...I know how much stress you're all under for Kingdom," You whispered as you looked down at your hands, wondering if he really found it funny that you didn't have many of your own friends, you were new to Korea it wasn't as if you weren't trying. 

"What I said was out of order, nothing I can do or say will make up for it but I'm hoping you'll let me try...I never meant it, you know that." You knew deep down he hadn't meant it but you didn't want to forgive him so easily and seem so weak,

"Fine but...I want to be alone tonight, I just want some space." You whispered as you glanced up at him, he nodded and walked over to you giving you a kiss on your forehead. 

"Call me when you're ready to speak, I'm sorry." He whispered before you kissed him again, letting him go out of the door. 

CHANGBIN: Insecurity: School/College work

it out on one When Changbin walked into the dorms that night and heard you laughing loudly with the guys he frowned, you were supposed to be at home studying for your exams that were coming up not here with his friends. 

"Y/n? I thought you had an exam tomorrow." He said plainly as he walked into the room, you stopped laughing as you glanced over at him and nodded your head. 

"I do, I was just coming over for a break and I ran into Jisung," You looked over at Jisung who was still red in the face from laughing, Changbin grew with jealously as he watched the two of you giggling while trying not to laugh.

"This is why you keep failing the exams," He mumbled not thinking you could hear him as he walked into the kitchen but you heard him and your face fell, 

"What?" Your voice cracked as you waited for him to repeat what he had just said to you, nothing but the sound of the tap dripping could be heard. 

"Nothing." He grumbled, Jisung attempted to slowly leave the room without being noticed but you took his wrist in your hand, 

"What did he say Jisung?" Changbin stared at the younger member with a look that said he would kill him if he said anything. 

"I wasn't listening," It was clearly a lie but you let him go before grabbing your stuff, 

"That's great, you know. You confide in your boyfriend that one of your insecurities is that you failed an exam and he uses it against you," You said snarkily as you began heading towards the door of the dorms, wanting nothing more than to go home and be left alone but Changbin followed you out. 

"I didn't mean it, I was just-"

"You were just what?! Stressed? So, what? You thought. 'I know let me just take it out on my partner, who's already having a rough enough time without their boyfriend being rude about it'" You yelled before leaving the dorms, making sure to slam the door so he knew you didn't want him to follow you back home.

(X)

A week had passed since your little yelling match with Changbin, he'd been doing everything he could to say sorry, sending flowers, chocolates and teddies to your apartment to try and make up for everything he had done. Then there were the calls, voicemails and texts telling you how sorry he was for what he had said to you, that he hadn't meant it. You finally gave up on ignoring him when you realised you were both just stressed and it didn't mean you had to take it out on one another. 

"I'm sorry," You said in unison as you opened the door to your apartment to see him standing there with a bunch of flowers in his hands, 

"No, I'm sorry." You said in unison again before laughing with one another, Changbin put the flowers down on your kitchen side before bringing you into a hug and kissing the top of your head. 

"I promise that it won't happen again, I've been stressed at work and that's one of the worst excuses in the world but I'm really sorry-" He was cut off when you kissed him softly, telling him that it was fine, you'd been stressed out as well and you shouldn't have ignored him for as long as you had done. 

"How did your exam go?" He whispered as he pulled you into a tight hug, 

"I passed." You laughed softly, kissing his chest as he told you his plans for congratulating you. 

HYUNJIN: Insecurity: Not Being Good enough for him

You ran your hands down the outfit you were wearing for the award show the boys had invited you to go along with them to and you sighed, you looked great but you thought back on what everyone else was going to be wearing. All of those people around Hyunjin who were going to gain his attention within seconds, 

"You ready to go? Whoa," He whispered as he walked into your shared room to find you in the most stunning outfit he'd ever seen you in, he walked over and kissed you softly. 

"Looking good babe," He complimented but your heart dropped, "good" wasn't what you wanted, you wanted to look great. So great that he wouldn't be able to take his eyes off you all night, 

"I need to change, it's not right." You mumbled, heading into the wardrobe to try and find something that would meet your standards that you had set in your head. 

"You don't have to, you look good." You ignored him as you pulled out different options up to your body trying to find the best one, 

"I don't want to look good, I want to look great." You whispered not thinking he could hear you but he watched you from the door shaking his head, 

"You always look great, it doesn't matter what you wear," You looked over at him and shook your head this time, 

"But they're going to be people, that will look better...You will look at them and want to be with them instead." He rolled his eyes at you, leaving the wardrobe to go and wait for you outside not wanting to listen to this over and over again. 

"You always think that I'm going to leave you for someone else, why? You're all I want." He was getting tired of telling you this and you never believe him, it was like a broken record. 

"Maybe I should spend my time looking for someone who would be good for me, someone who wouldn't spend so much time getting ready," He snapped not meaning it, he was stressed from work and the award show but you came out of the wardrobe in sweats. 

"What are you doing?"

"Well, I'm not going. Spend the night finding someone that can be good enough for you," You remarked before looking yourself in the en-suite, ignoring him as he banged on the door for you to come out.

(X)  

Hyunjin walked into the room later that night to find you curled up in bed with his shirt on, he crawled in behind you and kissed your shoulder softly. 

"You know I didn't mean it right, you're perfect for me...Sometimes you're too good for me." He whispered as you pretended to be asleep, 

"I know you're not asleep because you're not doing that little snorting thing you do when you're sleeping," You began making the snorting noise as he laughed softly, kissing your cheeks and turning you around to face him,

"There is no one in the world I want, I only want you for the rest of my life," He admitted as he kissed your lips over and over again, telling you he was going to remind you every day how good you were until you began to believe and listen to him.

JISUNG: Insecurity: Don’t earn as much as him

It was no secret that you didn't earn as much as your boyfriend Jisung did but that was because he was famous and you just happened to serve in a restaurant and work in a bookstore in the week. 

"We're all going to split the bill," Jisung announced as he looked at the waiter who had asked had you and the boys wanted to pay for your meal that night, you looked at the receipt nervously thinking about how you were going to pay for it. 53000 won wasn't exactly the cheapest meal in the world, you figured you would all pay for the food you had ordered for yourselves which was why you'd gone for the cheapest items on the menu. 

"Well, Changbin is the birthday boy, we shouldn't make him pay. Let's split between the eight of us," Felix said as he bought out his wallet, you began to grow with anxiety as you realised you weren't going to have enough to cover it. 

"Here, mine and Y/n's half," You stared at the wad of cash that he placed down and then up at him as he smiled at you, kissing your lips. 

"I got you, baby, I know you don't have a lot so I figured this was my treat." Your mouth fell open as he said that in front of everyone and the boys awkwardly looked away from you, doing anything they could to not pay attention to you. 

"I can pay for my own meals," You whispered not wanting to make a scene in such a fancy place but Jisung didn't see a problem with him putting money down for the two of you. 

"I know you don't earn as much as me, it's no big deal it's just money." A hiss sounded from Changbin as he realised Jisung was saying the wrong thing right now so all you did was get up, 

"Well, this person who doesn't earn as much as you is leaving to catch a cab. Don't worry Jisung, I can afford it." You snapped, moving out of the restaurant leaving Jisung shocked as he watched after you, not seeing the problem in him offering to pay for your food. 

"Dude...Bringing up that they earn less than you? Harsh," Changbin whispered as he patted Jisung on the back before getting up to leave. 

(X)

Watching him from across the room you waited for Jisung to say something, he'd come to your apartment begging you to let him inside so you did. 

"What is it? Come to mock me some more for my jobs?" He sighed as he stepped closer to you, only for you to back up against the wall not wanting him to touch you right now. 

"You know I never meant it like that, I just...I thought I was doing a good thing." You shook your head as you rubbed your arms, 

"Doing a good thing would be if you didn't announce to everyone on our table that I make less than you," You mumbled as you thought back on the boys all staring at you, it felt as if you'd shrunk in size with the way they all stared at you.

"Babe please, I didn't mean to I thought I was doing a nice thing." You shook your head rubbing your temples as the headache you'd gotten increased, 

"Whatever Jisung, just...lock the door on your way out," You turned away from him only for him to take you by the hand and pull you close. 

"You know I would never do something that spiteful to you on purpose, I was stressed, it slipped out, I didn't mean to use it against you." You could tell by the look in his eyes how sorry he was and the thought of curling up beside him to fall asleep was too good to resist right now so you gently kissed his lips. 

"Next time we eat, I'm paying." You mumbled, dragging him  into the bedroom to get some well-earnt sleep.

FELIX: Insecurity: Emotionless/Cold hearted

According to everyone around you, you were that cold and heartless person that everyone tended to steer away from which was why it was so hard for you to believe someone like Felix, who was the living embodiment of sunshine, would want to date someone like you. 

"All I'm saying is, you could have been a little bit nicer." He mumbled as you stood in the dorms, Jisung had been crying about a fight he'd had with Chan earlier that day and you told him to grow up about it. 

"All I said was that he needed to grow up," You were confused as to why he was so angry over something so small, Jisung hadn't seemed that upset over it and it was him you were talking to. 

"You're so fucking emotionless! He was crying Y/n and you told him to grow up!" You felt your body slump as the words left his mouth, you could take that from everyone around you but not him, not Felix. Felix was the one that made all of your insecurities melt away, the one you felt happy with but now he'd just thrown that back in your face and it looked as though he hadn't even noticed. 

"How do you do it? How do you get away with being so cold to everyone around you, he was clearly hurt and needed our help and you fucking made it worse." You looked over at the dorm bathrooms wondering if you could make a run for it while he was ranting with his back to you so you did. Shutting the door as you slid down it, crying into your knees as you remembered the way Felix looked at you as if you were a monster. It wasn't that you were emotionless or cold to everyone, there were just some feelings you didn't understand. 

"Y/n! I'm sorry!" He banged on the door as soon as he realised where you were, trying to get you to come out as he heard you sniffling from the other side of it. 

"Please, I didn't mean any of it Y/n, you know that." You continued to cry into your knees, wanting nothing more than for him to leave and go into his room so you could sneak out and go home but he sat there on the other side of the door and waited. 

(X)

You finally emerged an hour later when Chan knocked on the door telling you he needed to use the bathroom, Felix was waiting for you with open arms but you attempted to move away from him, failing as he hugged you from behind. 

"I'm sorry, I was just stressed and overwhelmed with work, I shouldn't have taken it out on you," He whispered as he kissed your shoulder, watching you as you kept your eyes forward on Jisung who was talking to Chan about that day.

"You were right though, he did need to grow up...I shouldn't have said what I said to you and I am really sorry Y/n." You knew that no matter what Felix was going to keep saying sorry until you forgave him, 

"You're right there, I am-" He kissed your lips softly before you could tell him you agreed with yourself being emotionless, 

"I don't want to hear that, it's not true...Remember when I broke my ankle and you were there taking care of me," You nodded and he continued to list off everything you had done for him, the boys and all of your friends when they were sick or injured. 

"I don't want to hear that again," He kissed your nose and you nodded before kissing him softly to stop him from saying sorry again.

SEUNGMIN: Insecurity: Not successful like other people your age

Your eyes glanced over the wedding invitation sitting on your coffee table, yet another one of your friends were getting married and you were happy for them. You would always be happy for someone who was doing well in their life but everyone you knew seemed to be getting married, having babies, getting their dream carers all the while you seemed to be stuck in the same place moving nowhere in your life. 

"Why the long face?" Seungmin asked as he brought over your plate of food, the two of you were having your date night at your place tonight since the boys were all at the dorms and you wanted some alone time together.

"Nothing, I'm just wondering what to get my friend for her wedding," You said as you nodded over at the invitation, Seungmin nodded along with you and without thinking about it first, 

"Doesn't it make you feel bad that they're all so successful and you're just still in your small apartment," He didn't mean for it to come out the way it did, he'd been so stressed all week over something he needed to ask you that it came out a little too harsh. You dropped the fork onto your plate as you looked at him, wondering if he was joking or if he was serious but he looked at you confused. 

"What?"

"Well, I mean, they're all married, starting families, having these large homes and you're still in this crummy apartment." You couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, especially from Seungmin of all people, your boyfriend. The person that was supposed to be supportive and loving to you no matter what, it felt as though he was turning your back on you. 

"Crummy?" Your voice broke as he continued to eat, watching the TV as though he didn't notice what he had said was hurting you so badly, you got up without another word, placed your plate down and rushed to the bathroom. 

(X)

When you didn't come out after an hour Seungmin was beginning to worry, he knocked on the door when he heard sniffling coming from inside. 

"Babe? Everything okay?" You wiped your eyes as you hummed in response, reaching to the toilet to flush it before lying to him, claiming you were sick and he needed to go before he caught it.

"You were fine earlier," He mumbled confused as to where this sudden sickness had come from, he opened the door to find you leaning against the bathtub wiping your eyes. 

"Babe! What's wrong?" You scoffed at him, moving away as he tried to reach out and comfort you, 

"What's wrong?! Me and my crummy apartment!" You yelled as you moved away from him and went into the living room, 

"Baby, I didn't-"

"Didn't mean it? Because clearly, you did! Do you find it funny?" He reached out for you but you stepped away once again not wanting him to be near you right now,

"Let's just laugh at Y/n and the fact that they still live in a 'crummy' apartment, not married, not having kids and alone!" He realized as soon as you began crying again that his words had hurt you unintentionally, he hadn't meant it the way they'd come out.

"I didn't mean it like that, I've been stressed this week trying to-"

"So you took it out on me? When have we ever done that?" He shook his head, finally gabbing your hands as he made you look up at him, 

"I've been stressing myself out trying to ask you to move in with me, I-I found a house we could live in and I- I didn't know how to ask you and I thought that dropping hints would be a good way." You stared at him with your brows pressed together, 

"You thought telling me my apartment was crummy...was a hint?" He laughed awkwardly as he realised how stupid it seemed but you started laughing softly along with him somehow seeing the funny side of it as you shook your head. 

"Kim Seungmin, you are the most strangest, perfect boyfriend in the world." You whispered kissing him softly, 

"Yes, I'll move in with you."

JEONGIN: Insecurity: Worried He doesn’t Love you

"You were flirting with her," You scoffed as you stood in one of the empty conference rooms that were in the JYP building, Jeongin rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration listening to what you were claiming he was doing.

"I was talking to her, she's like a younger sister to me." He explained you'd walked into the building to find him standing extremely close to Lia from itzy and it sent jealousy running through your veins. It wasn't as if you didn't trust Jeongin, you just found it incredibly difficult to see him with someone like Lia and not be attracted to her,

"You're just always too jealous to see what's in front of you! Why would I flirt with her when I'm with you?" You stared at him as he called you jealous, you looked down at your hands and not knowing what to say to him. 

"You're always so worried that I don't love you! Do you know how tiring it is to have to remind you all the time?" You felt a pang in your heart as he yelled at you, people turning to look through the glass door as they heard the youngest member yelling. 

"Well if it's so tiring why do you keep doing it?!" You yelled back only for him to shake his head and shrug his shoulders, 

"I don't know," Your heart, felt as though it had fallen onto the floor and crashed into a million tiny pieces right in front of him and it was as though he didn't care to notice. 

"You don't know? So...Why don't we just break up?" Your voice was quieter, hoping he would realise you were upset about this and that he would tell you he didn't mean it but he nodded his head, 

"Fine." Your breath caught in your throat as he stormed out of the room leaving you alone to try and gather up everything that had just happened in the room while he seemed to go off as though nothing had happened. 

(X)

When Jeongin walked into the dorms later that night the last thing he expected to find was you packing everything up into a bag with tears gushing down your cheeks. 

"Sorry, I thought I would be done before you got back," You sniffled, wiping your eyes and side-stepping out of the room telling him you would come back for the rest of your stuff when he wasn't at home.

"What are you talking about? Why are you taking your stuff?" You ignored him as you struggled to take the key to the dorms off your keys, dropping them all onto the floor and crying as you saw him bending down for them. 

"We broke up. Remember? You didn't want the hassle of telling me you loved me so we broke up," You couldn't bring yourself to look at him but he tilted your head up to look at him and shook his head, 

"I was just mad, I didn't mean it Y/n...I would never break up with you over that, I've just been stressed and then the whole jealousy thing came out and I just...I'm really sorry," He whispered leaning forward to kiss your lips softly, repeating over and over how much he loved you in every way possible, kissing you all over your face as he pulled you back into his dorm room so you could unpack your bag. 

Tagline: @taestannie​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @sw33tnight​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​ @minholuvs​

[daenqyu]

— doing their eyeliner at 12AM

includes: bakugou, kaminari, kirishima, and hawks

warnings: suggestive (LOTS of making out)

a/n: did i write this just because i love doing my eyeliner and i really want to sit on a guy’s lap while i do his???? maybe. but that’s none of your business 🙄☝️

bakugou katsuki

it’s canon that he wears eyeliner and even if it wasn’t,,, he’d still try it at least ONCE

in this case you had to ask him

well more like beg him 

“babe please, i promise i’ll make a good work!” 

“how? you suck at doing yours”

you scoff before punching his arm, making him let out a hiss as he glares at you

“i don’t you idiot, now can you shut up and stay still for a second?”

of course he ends up giving in bc come on, he’d do anything just to make you happy and if that meant letting you put makeup on him at 12AM because you thought he’d look ‘pretty’ then so be it

bakugou doesn’t voice out any of this though 

instead, he keeps complaining and even tickles your sides from time to time just to get on your nerves

“bakugou,” he frowns when his last name falls from your lips, not liking how it sounded at all. “stop fucking moving or i’ll stap your eye.”

“tch, stop telling me what to do, dumbass.”

but he does stop

after all, he didn’t really want you to get mad at him

he entertains himself by tapping his fingers against your thighs to the beat of the music playing from your speaker 

his touch makes butterflies flutter in your stomach, but you ignore them and continue to draw on his eyelids 

you decide to keep it simple; just a very defined line that’s not too thick, but enough so that it’s visible 

“okay, i’m done”

after you put the eyeliner down and notice bakugou’s eyes were focused on you, you completely forget how to breathe

the black makes his vermilion eyes look even brighter and in contrast with his blonde hair...he simply looks beautiful 

he takes your silence as a bad sign and thinks you probably did fuck up, but when he looks at himself in his phone camera, the makeup looks fine to him so,

why the heck weren’t you saying anything?

“what is it? do you not like it?”

didn’t like it? couldn’t he see you were practically salivating bc of him?

“uh no, you look really good actually,” you look away before continuing, not trusting yourself to look at him while you said the next words. “you look pretty”

bakugou is a little surprised by the compliment, but he wastes no time before teasing you

he leans in, and once he’s close enough, he takes your chin so you’re looking directly at him

a smirk takes over his lips when your eyes avoid his

“what’s got you so shy?” he teases

“i’m not”

“then look at me” 

you didn’t want him to know how big of an effect he had on you, so you turn your head around and face him, even tho you’re flustered beyond belief

his eyes slowly look down at your lips and then back to your eyes, making you a little anxious as to what could happen, but bakugou decides to drags it out

just to have some fun of his own

he places one of his hands on the back of your neck, gently pulling you forward until your noses are almost touching 

the other one caresses your cheek softly, then his fingers slowly trace out your jaw, eyes still stuck on your own 

it’s infuriating really

the way his fingers carefully touch your lips, applying a bit more pressure on his thumb that’s touching your lower lip so he can open your mouth ever so slightly 

the way he acts as if he has all the time in the world, as if he could do this all day

and you know he can

but you don’t 

so you lean in to close the distance with a deep kiss

it’s messy and sloppy; his tongue clashing with your own as his hands roam all over your body to feel you

you end up sitting on his lap, lips still connected and hands all over each other

you pull away, chest heaving as rough breaths leave your mouth and smirk when you notice bakugou is looking at you 

his hair is messy thanks to your gripping and the eyeliner fits him so nicely

for a moment you almost can’t believe he’s your boyfriend 

“have i ever told you how handsome i think you are?” you ask him with a goofy smile on your face, fingers playing with the ends of his hair

“hm, once or twice but you can always remind me again” 

“let me just show you”

he quirks an eyebrow at your implication, licking his lips as his eyes darken

“oh? bold, aren’t we now?”

“learned from the best”

“fuck yeah you did”

to keep it short, you guys didn’t sleep a lot that night 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

kaminari denki

he was DEFINITELY the one that came up with the idea

something just tells me he probably spends 90% of his time scrolling through tiktok 

and if he feels like it, maybe he’ll even posts some of his own

so it’s no surprise that he’s caught up with all the trends and challenges

and even dances (which surprisingly, he’s damn good at)

i’m guessing you guys already know what i’m trying to get at

he had seen way too many tiktoks of couples doing their partner’s eyeliner and he thought it was the coolest thing ever

not only was he curious to see how the makeup would look on him, but he also just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you

he had been thinking about it for a few weeks now, but couldn’t seem to find the perfect moment to ask you

until one night you guys were having a sleepover on your dorm and a video of said trend pops up on his ‘fyp’

you’re cuddling, your head against his chest as his fingers trace random pattern on your back, when he brings it up

“hey babe?”

you hum in response, eyes fluttering open to look up at kaminari

he smiles before pecking your lips, thinking about how beautiful you look all cuddled up next to him

“do you think you could do my eyeliner real quick?”

the question takes you by surprise,

tho you’re used to yout boyfriend being quite spontaneous and random at times, so you don’t really question it

instead, you nod and move out of the bed to get the makeup product, which sits on your vanity

“where should i sit?”

he asks you once you walk over to him, but you simply smile before taking a seat on his lap

you position your legs on either side of his hips so you’re in a straddling position and kaminari almost forgets all about the makeup because of this

but can you really blame him?

you just look so perfect like this

he has to physically stop himself from flipping you over and kissing you all he wants

and you giggle when you notice a pout forming on his face

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing”

“you sure?”

“yeah, just hurry up and do it so i can kiss you”

you laugh, “yes sir”

when you start, he can’t help but giggle at the feeling and you have to hold his face in place so he would stop moving

he gets used to it after a while 

almost even falls asleep from how soft your other hand felt on his cheek

since you know kaminari likes to be a little extra, you attempt to draw a lighting bolt right below one of the lines

it’s not the best, but it looks decent enough so you decide to leave it there

but when you finish, you feel like something is missing; like it could be better

then you have the fantastic idea to use eyeshadow

kaminari feels you getting up from his lap and he whines 

“where are you going?”

“hold on, i’m feeling inspired right now”

“okay?”

he doesn’t understand what you mean at all, but he lets you be

you take a random eyeshadow palette and make sure it has a nice black color on it

then you reposition yourself on his lap

“open your eyes and look up”

he does as he’s told and you proceed to put some more black on his lower lash line and waterline (not too much)

when kaminari doesn’t feel your touch on his face anymore, he looks down at you with a smile, which inevitably makes you smile too

“how do i look?”

you chuckle lowly, examining his eyes once more 

he always looks gorgeous, but the eyeliner just...makes him hit different

and the fact he’s wearing one of his chokers doesn’t make it any better

he looks straight out of alt tiktok

“you, my beautiful boyfriend, look very attractive”

he smirks at your teasing tone, “oh? is that so?”

“i’m afraid it is” 

he doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror because all he could think about was kissing you

and that’s what he does

he holds your face with both of his hands before pulling you in to kiss you

his lips feel hot and so does your whole body when he grips your hips

after a few more kisses, he pulls away and looks at you with excited eyes

“can i do yours now?”

you chuckle at his cuteness before nodding and letting him draw on your face

it’s not perfect, but hey! baby tried his best and that’s all that matters

besides he looks so proud of himself, telling you how cute you look and how lucky he is to call you his

“you look soooo pretty! i mean you always do, of course, but you look even prettier which i didn’t know was humanly possible yet here you are”

he ends up going on a rant about all the things he loves about you and you’re pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes by the time he ends

“i love you”

“i love you too, my pretty girl”

kirishima eijirou:

this man has absolutely tried on eyeliner at least once in his life

has it been good? probably not

but he likes it and thinks it looks very cool

sometimes you do yours and kirishima lives for it

he likes the way it compliments the shape of your eyes and how happy you get when you get the line right from the first try

whenever you’re getting ready and he’s with you, he doesn’t take his eyes off you

a smile spreading across his lips when he sees you bite down on your lower lip in concentration, your fingers skillfully tracing the marker on your eyelids 

and that’s when the idea pops in his head

he ponders on it for a while tho, not sure how to bring it up or if you’d be up to do it

it takes him a few days before he asks you and when he does, he looks all nervous 

you’re both hanging out in his dorm cuddling as you just finished watching a movie

a yawn leaves your lips and you stretch your arms, looking at the time on your phone screen

it reads 12:33 AM 

you hum, moving your head up to look at kirishima from your place on his lap

he looks down at you and offers you a sweet smile before placing a quick kiss on your lips

“i should get going,” he pouts at your words, his hold on your waist tightening so you couldn’t stand up and you giggle, turning around completely so you’re facing him

you wrap your hands around his neck to pull him closer, just until your lips touch

you teasingly smirk at him before kissing his cheek and he frowns

“what? don’t you like my kisses?” you pout at him 

kirishima scoffs at your stupid question and grabs your jaw gently, looking you in the eyes

“stop being a tease”

you roll your eyes, “you’re so impatient”

nevertheless you comply and connect your lips with his, your hands now slightly massaging his nape

he hums against your mouth, prompting you to keep going

before things can go any further tho, you pull away 

he huffs childishly, not liking the way you kept leaving him hanging

“i seriously should get going,” you press one last peck on his lips. “don’t wanna risk getting caught here” 

“then just stay the night”

“baby i already did yesterday”

“uhh your point?”

you chuckle, “good try babe”

you attempt to stand up but once again your boyfriend stops you from doing so

you open your mouth to ask him what’s up 

but he beats you to it

“actually, i wanted to ask you something” he’s looking away from you and that makes you a little nervous, not having a clue about what he wanted to talk about 

you nod, silently telling him to keep going

“could you...do my eyeliner?” a blush creeps onto his neck, his eyes still not meeting yours and you think he looks adorable. before you can answer him, he talks again. “but i mean only if you want to cause’ i know it’s kinda hard so it’s okay if you don’t but i think i’d be really cool and-”

“oh my god eijirou it’s okay!” he finally shuts up and looks at you with big eyes

“it is?”

“hm, i’m more than happy to do it,” he lets out a sigh after hearing your comforting words and you kiss his nose. “besides you’ll look super manly”

if kirishima was already head over heels for you, then now he just wanted to straight up marry you

you got up and started to look around in kirishima’s bathroom drawer since sometimes you left some of your stuff behind just in case

luckily, the eyeliner was there

after you took it, you sat in front of kirishima once again, your legs crossed and you moved closer to him

he kept still and let you get comfortable, looking down at your lips briefly when you got a bit too close

“close your eyes”

and so he did

like i mentioned before, you’re a bit experienced with this since you practice on yourself quite a lot

so it doesn’t take you too much time

the line you drew was a bit thicker than normal but not too much

and instead of doing a straight line, you did it a bit more upwards

“and done!” you say happily while retracting your hand from kirishima’s face

he opens his eyes and offers you a grin

the action is small and meaningless, but it somehow makes you nervous

the makeup really suits him and you can’t help but admire him for a while 

by admiring i mean shamelessly checking him out

of course he notices it

and he teases you about it

“does it look good?”

“yeah,” you answer while looking away, trying to hide how flustered you are. “really good”

he hums before placing his hands on your waist and sitting you down on his lap, making you look at him with a surprised expression on your face

one of his hands stays on your waist while the other travels up to hold your face

you let out a heavy breath at his actions, feeling your heart thumping against your chest

his fingers caress your cheek softly and you lean in to his touch, loving the way he was always so gentle with you

without any warning, kirishima smashes his lips against your own

your eyes widen for a moment, not expecting this at all, but you close them when you feel his tongue touching your lower lip

you open your mouth and let him take the lead, a whimper coming out of you when you feel his hand wrap around your neck, pressing slightly

he pulls away with a smirk, both of your chests heaving from the lack of air

“still wanna leave?”

you sigh while moving your head, yet a smile was evident on your face, “i guess i can stay”

“atta girl”

takami keigo (hawks):

another one who canonically wears eyeliner !!

unlike bakugou (who does his eyeliner to cover up the gap between his mask and eyes), keigo does his solemnly because he thinks it looks good on him

wait, let me rephrase that

he knows it looks good on him

it’s part of his morning routine, he does it every time before going to work

so sometimes while you’re both getting ready for the day, you see him doing it

you open the bathroom door sleepily, barely managing to keep your eyes open

you walk over to the sink next to keigo’s and splash water on your face to wake yourself up

beside you, keigo smiles at your antics

he thinks you look the cutest in the mornings, especially when you’re grumpy

feeling his eyes on your figure, you turn around to face him with a raised brow

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“like what?”

“like i have something on my face”

he laughs at your attitude and walks over to place a kiss on your cheek

his lips feel warm against your cheek and it makes you smile

“good morning to you too” his says teasingly

“morning birdy” your tone matches his and he rolls his eyes playfully before pulling away from you to finish doing his eye makeup

you brush your teeth quickly while thinking about what you were gonna have for breakfast, and whether keigo had time to eat with you or not

once you finish, you place your toothbrush on its place and look over to your right

only to be met with the number two hero doing his eyeliner

in one hand he holds a feather of his against his eyelid, as if to help him do a straight line, and with the other he holds the actual makeup product

he has a concentrated look on his face, his brows slightly furrowed

and you look at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes

he looks so effortlessly beautiful

his golden locks are messy, yet perfectly in place and his wings rest by his side

he has his hero costume on, except for his coat

meaning his muscular arms are in full display for you to see

you don’t realize you’re staring until keigo finally finishes the second eye, and puts down the eyeliner

he smirks at you through the mirror and you look away, embarrassment clear on your face 

“come on, i made us breakfast”

instead of teasing you, like you thought he would, he simply grabs your hand and leads you to the dining table

your heart swells for the man and you look at the two plates in awe, “you did this?”

“is it so hard to believe?”

you roll your eyes before turning around and kissing him, a soft “thank you” leaving your lips as you pull away

that morning you can’t help but keep stealing glances at your boyfriend’s flawless eyeliner

and later that night, when you’re both cuddled up in each other’s arms  watching a movie, you get the sudden brilliant idea

“hey babe, can i do your eyeliner?”

keigo doesn’t even question you, he just nods before pressing a kiss to your neck and you giggle happily

you stand up to get the eyeliner from your shared bathroom and once you return, you take a seat right in front of him

“do you even know what you’re doing?” 

“shut up, i do my makeup too, you know?”

keigo laughs, “i’m just teasing baby”

“you’re mean”

he leans in towards you, pulling you closer by your hips until his lips hover over yours

unconsciously, your eyes look down at his lips, wondering whether he was gonna kiss you or not

but being the little shit he is, keigo doesn’t 

“you should hurry up,” his lips are still inches away from yours, but he doesn’t plan on closing the gap any time soon. “i wanna finish the movie”

this fucker

you clear your throat and move away from him, enough so that you can actually do the makeup, but his hands stay on your hips

you try your best to do it the exact same way he does it

a sharp, straight line that covers part of his outer v and also a small portion of his inner corner

giving his eyes a cat like shaped form

to add your own touch, you draw two small hearts on both sides of his cheekbones 

“m’kay, you can open your eyes now”

and when he does, your breath literally hitches in your throat

of course it’s not the first time you’ve seen him wearing eyeliner

but your faces are still close and his amber eyes are stuck on yours and you just feel like you’re about to explode

your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by keigo and he smirks 

“i take it you like how it looks?” his tone is flirty and it makes you snap from your trance

you smile at him, softly tracing the two hearts with your fingers, “hm, you look lovely”

“oh really?”

“yeah”

“not as lovely as you, i bet”

and before you can even disagree with him, he presses his lips against yours

you let out a soft moan when he moves you so you’re sitting on his lap and his tongue explores your mouth ever so passionately

keigo takes his sweet time kissing you, taking in every little sound you make and the way your hips slowly move against his thigh

when you pull away, your lips are swollen and you have some spit coating them

which is enough to make keigo go crazy, but before actually doing something, he takes the eyeliner on his hand

you furrow your eyebrows at his action

“what are you doing?”

“well it’s my turn now”

“why do you oh so suddenly want to do my eyeliner?”

he smiles, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “because i wanna see how it’ll look when i make you cry it off”

your eyes widen at his words, but you make no attempt to stop him

keigo kept his promise and he indeed made you cry all of your eyeliner off 😁👍🏼

[thefanficmonster]

Casual

Ranboo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None, unless talking about the future counts

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Following the arrival of the dreadful invitation to his cousin’s wedding Ranboo turns to the only cover-up he can think of to keep his still-single status hidden from his family.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so glad you sent your idea to me and I’m so glad you were my first official Ranboo request. I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to write it but I still hope you’ll come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Heyyy, so Y/N, I have a favor to ask you...um yeah, call me back, it’s awkward sending it via voicemail. Bye“

Huh - that’s the first thought that goes through my head when I listen to the voicemail left after a missed call from my best friend Ranboo. The favors he usually asks for consist of requesting assistance for his videos in which I also appear with a mask and sunglasses to keep the brand running. I genuinely have nothing against my face being shown but when I think about it, I’m honestly a bit glad people can’t identify me.

Anyways, back to the favors, Ranboo is no stranger to asking me for them but they’ve never been considered too awkward for a voicemail which is why I’m no slightly concerned. I’ve been swamped with work for school and studies for the graduation finals for the past two weeks and it seems like I’ll never get on top of it and I know Ranboo’s been in a similar situation too, so maybe he needs help with that? He’s not used to asking help for school stuff, he sometimes even has a hard time accepting it when I openly offer it to him.

I eventually sigh, decide that playing this guessing game will not get me anywhere and settle on giving him a call as I make my way home from the gym with my legs barely putting up with the task of carrying me around.

He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey! Wh-...“

“Would you pretend to be my girlfriend for my cousin’s wedding next weekend?!“

My legs take that opportunity to stop moving in the middle of the sidewalk which is luckily void of any people at the moment. It’s not my fault my body’s first reaction was to freeze up at the question that came flying at me like an out-of-control jet, almost as though he’s been dying to say it and get it over with.

“Um...run that by me again please, I think I misunderstood.“ I say, blinking blankly as though awoken from a fever dream. No, actually as though I’m IN a fever dream right now.

“Ok, now that the cat’s out of the bag, wanna grab some coffee and talk about it face-to-face. I need to see your facial expressions to gauge what response to expect.“ He says, the previous nervousness gone and his voice calm as regularly once again.

I’m this close to face-palming but I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and bring myself to utter a reply, “Our usual spot. Be there in ten minutes.”

                                                             *  *  *

“No freaking way.“ I shake my head, folding my arms over my chest as I lean back in my seat in the booth we picked when we arrived. Good thing I got an iced coffee cause even a hot one would’ve gone cold by now considering I haven’t yet taken the time to have even a sip of it. I’ve been too busy listening to the long and short of the explanation and begging speech Ranboo probably made last night to try and convince me to agree to this nonsense. “Dude, we’ve been friends since middle school-...“

“Exactly! Who else was I gonna ask?“ He cuts me off, pleading gaze meeting my unimpressed one.

I huff before continuing my previous statement, “We’ve been friends since middle school so you know my opinion on weddings.” I put extra emphasis on the word ‘opinion’, giving him the clear hint at the distaste I’ve expressed on the topic multiple times before.

“And you know we’re on the same page there but there’s no way I can avoid going unless someone kidnaps me.“ He too now gets in the same stance as me, his coffee forgotten too.

I can’t help but snort out a little laugh, “I’d be more than happy to kidnap you considering the other option is far less appealing to me.“

He, of course, rolls his eyes at me as though he didn’t offer to do the same thing so I could avoid an exam but anyways. “So you’re gonna choose to fake a kidnapping that has the potential of landing you in jail over coming to eat some great food and maybe even have some fun at a wedding with your best friend? I’m hurt.“ He says, frowning to cover up the smile that’s fighting its way onto his face.

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, “I’d be kidnapping you, dummy...” I cut myself off to let out a long sigh and calm down before I go off at him. His smirk isn’t helping me much with the task either. I’ve known Ranboo long enough to know he’ll eventually convince me and he’s known me long enough to know how to do that exactly. With that in mind, there’s really no point in getting so worked up and wasting my energy. And so, despite my own rationality, I cave. “Fine, but I’m not staying the whole wedding.“

His eyes immediately light up and almost makes me feel the compromise was worth it. Almost. I mean, when you’ve been best friends with someone for so long, seeing them happy is worth more to you than your own comfort sometimes.

And he knows it too. Which is exactly why he outstretches his hand for me to shake and says: “Just one dance and you’re free to go. Deal?”

I take his hand without hesitations. That’s a better offer than I could’ve ever imagined. “Damn straight it’s a deal.“

                                                            *  *  *

“How long until you kick the heels off?“ Ranboo asks, bringing me a non-alcoholic cocktail and sitting down next to me.

I take a sip and giggle, “You kidding? I already kicked them off and replaced them with flats. I need mobility if we dance. They also lower the risk of me severing off a toe of yours if I step on you on accident.”

He laughs, clinking his glass against mine before he gets a bit more serious, “By the way, thanks for handling my family’s attack so well. I know it might’ve been a bit much but you handled it like a pro. Still, I’m sorry on their behalf.”

I shake my head and wave my hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it. I’d probably react the same way if my brother or cousin brought a date to an important family event like this.” I instinctively turn to look in the direction of where the majority of his family has gathered around, chatting with guests, smiling brightly. It’s hard not to immediately take a liking towards these people. They’ve been a second family to me ever since Ranboo and I started hanging out so I completely understand why they were so shocked to see me in the role of his ‘girlfriend’.

“I’ll tell my parents the truth later, our extended family is the ones I wanted to fool to be perfectly honest.“ He looks around as do I and we catch more than a few pairs of eyes fixated on us that turn away when they realize they’ve been spotted, “Mission accomplished by the looks of it.“

I chuckle. I’ve never felt so comfortable at a wedding before. I don’t feel stressed nor anxious despite knowing that there’s quite the number of eyes on me and there are whispers going around about my ‘relationship’ with Ranboo. It’s oddly calming and relaxing to be surrounded by some familiar and some unfamiliar faces. This cocktail is pretty great too.

Speaking of which, if it had any alcohol in it I’d blame it for the decision I’m about to make but this one’s entirely on me: I tap Ranboo with one hand while taking out my phone with the other. “If we’re already the talk of the wedding, let’s give them something to talk about.“ I say as I put up my phone, pretending to be taking a selfie leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

When I pull away I can clearly see that he’s still processing what just happened. I can’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter as I reach out to wipe the lipstick stain I left on his cheek. He looks like a lost, clueless puppy with the question: ‘what on Earth just happened???’ replaying in his head and it’s so freaking cute!

Wait....what was that? Since when do I use the adjective cute to describe Ranboo? Didn’t I think he looks handsome in a suit earlier too? The hell is with me today?

Then it hits me - the feeling isn’t foreign. Like, I know I’ve felt it before but I never analyzed it or even bothered to acknowledge it. But now that I do, I’m afraid of what it might be.

“There!“ I say, desperately trying to push the thoughts away along with this little firework show in my stomach, “Now you have pinker cheeks. Well, cheek, singular.“

As if snapping out of his state of confusion, he returns to Earth with a smirk, “Kiss the other to even it?”

Alright, his blush might not be even but mine now is and it’s ten times as intense and very much apparent but I don’t let the feeling shine through anything else as I proceed to actually kiss his other cheek too, wiping the lipstick stain.

“Thanks. You’re the best.” And just like that, as though it’s no big deal, he kisses my forehead.

See, that’s the thing, it shouldn’t be a big deal! It’s never been! This is far from the first time I’ve kissed him on the cheek or the first time he’s given me a forehead kiss. These are regular occurrences after years of this lovely friendship we have. Why do they feel so different now?

Then, much to my relief, the music starts and the lights turn off leaving only one spotlight for the groom and bride to have their first dance. They look absolutely astonishing and I can certainly say I’ve never before stopped to think that about any newly weds of the weddings I’ve preciously been to. I don’t know if it has something to do with the company I have for this particular wedding or it’s maybe the fact that my mindset’s changed over the years without me realizing.

Then I automatically look at Ranboo who just so happens to be looking at me too and all I can say is: my mindset hasn’t changed.

A loud applause takes over when the couple finish their dance, officially opening the dancefloor for any other pairs who’d like to occupy it and I’m happy to see how many people are eager to rush up with their partner.

 Ranboo gets up, putting the glass down and offers me his hand, “So, wanna dance? Don’t take this as a sign to leave though, we said one dance and you CAN leave, not SHOULD.” He says, giving me a warning look.

I roll my eyes and am about to give him some sass right back but he takes my hand and picks me up from my seat, leading me to the dancefloor.  And I gotta admit maybe it’s a good thing he did. If he left it to me I would’ve probably said no to the dance and ran the hell away. Why? - Cause I’m freaking terrified of this new mindset and point of view and these intense emotions I never used to pay any mind to before in regards to my best friend.

Friends don’t feel that way about friends. Friends don’t look at friends that way. What’s happening to me?

When I gotta look him in the eyes like this, not for the first time might I add, I can finally understand how the friends-to-lovers trope works: it’s all meaningless until it starts to mean so much to you. It’s all platonic until it reminds you of a romantic movie moment. It ‘best friends’ until it’s ‘I wish we were more than that’. It’s all casual, until it’s not.

And, unfortunately, it’s irreversible.

Damn do I wish I ran away now...

[harrylovex]

WORK PARTY

summary: you get drunk at a work party and chris looks after you...

warnings: alcohol consumption, vomit warning!! fluff and chris being a gentleman, kissing, lots and lots of forehead kisses <3

a/n: i got this idea from a little blurb that i read last night, i was gonna do this for harry to change it up a bit, but then i realised that chris has been stuck in my mind alot recently so why not write it about him?? he’s been looking so delicious recently i can’t deal i can’t take it anymore ;)

you were finishing getting ready, applying the last few coats of mascara when the doorbell rang, signalling that your friend had arrived.

she was giving you a lift to a work party.

work parties were your favourite parties.

you got on with your work colleagues really well, it was a bonus that your boss was the same age as the rest of you.

because of the fact that she was also in her early to mid twenties, she was pretty chill, hanging out with everyone in their offices, and not putting too much pressure on anyone.

your boss was the one hosting the work party, so you knew that there would be great food, fun games and lots and lots of alcohol.

it always felt like more of a college party than a work party.

you had started at this new office job a few months prior, you had been so incredibly nervous, shaking a little as you went in for your first day.

your boss had ordered one of the other colleagues to show you around and introduce everyone.

he told you that his name was chris, and he gave you a tour of the place, reassuring you when he saw you shake as you took a cup of coffee from his hand.

ever since then, the two of you had been pretty close, you laughed and joked together and he made work not so boring at all.

he would flirt with you also, making you blush at least three times a day. you weren’t complaining though, he was gorgeous.

everyone teased you two all the time, saying that you both looked cute together and joking about the sexual tension between you two. you would always go bright red, smiling to yourself when you saw Chris wink at you.

truth is, you really liked chris, he was smart, sexy and just all around a great guy. from the way he acted around you, sometimes you thought that he might like you too, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it.

you grabbed your keys and bag as you hurried out the door.

“woah y/n! you look amazing!” your friend called out to you.

“thank you.” you blushed, climbing into the passenger side and fastening your seatbelt.

“chris is gonna go crazy when he sees you like this.”you laughed, brushing it off.

“no, seriously, i’ll have to tell him to stop drooling and to keep his dick in his pants!” she started hysterically laughing as she sped up.

you smiled to yourself, secretly hoping that chris would noticed how dressed up you were. you felt pretty.

you arrived at your boss’ house after driving for about ten minutes. walking up the driveway, you found the door unlocked.

you walked in, peering around the living room. no one was there but there was faint noise coming from the garden. you guessed that’s where everyone was.

walking through the french doors, you saw a few colleagues sitting around a huge campfire. it looked stunning. to say that your boss was rich would be an understatement.

your boss came running over, embracing you in a hug.

“y/n! oh my goodness you’re here! the rest of them should be arriving in a bit and then we can get this party started!” laughter rang out throughout the guests.

she pointed you towards the drinks cart, telling you to help yourself.

you greeted the others with smiles, your eyes catching Chris’ as you scanned the benches.

you noticed chris rake his eyes down your body and it made you blush. he smiled at you, motioning with his index and middle finger for you to go over to him.

you did, and were greeted with a hug. he was wearing a black long sleeve shirt with some teal coloured velvet pants.

as you pulled back from the hug, you got a whiff of his cologne, and oh my god he smelt amazing. he looked amazing too. really handsome and warm at the same time.

“hi.” you smiled up at him.

“hey” he replied. “you look gorgeous.”

your smile grew even wider. “thank you, so do you.”

he chuckled, placing the palm of his hand on your lower back as he motioned for you to sit next to him.

you perched yourself next to him on the bench, striking up conversation with chris and the people around you.

“would you like a drink?” chris asked you, taking a swig of his cup.

“sure. what are you drinking?”

“vodka cranberry.”

“um...i’ll have the same.”

chris laughed, getting up from his seat to grab you a drink.

as he did so, one of your girl friends came over.

“hey y/n! you look so pretty!”

“aw, thanks.” you replied, blushing. “so do you.”

she brushed it off, scooching closer to you.

“so...are you finally gonna get it on with sexy mr. chris evans tonight?”

you laughed, motioning for her to keep her voice down.

“come on y/n, you must know that he fancies you, everyones waiting for one of you to make a move.”

“i don’t know...” you replied. “i guess i want to tell him, but i’m shy.”

“listen, just get some alcohol in you and you’ll be fine! honestly, have you seen how he looks at you? he’s totally in love!”

chris appeared then, holding out your drink.

“what are you guys talking about?” he asked.

“oh! um...nothing. just about next weeks plans.” you replied quickly, as your friend walked off, winking at you.

you shook you head, making room for chris so that he could sit back down.

“thanks for the drink.” you took a sip, immediately liking the taste.

“no problem.” chris sat down, even closer to you than earlier, your thighs touching.

as the night went on, it got colder, and everyone got drunker.

you felt dizzy as you slouched against chris, pulling the blanket that your friend had given you over your legs. you looked at the stars as they spun, making you laugh.

you and chris were both very drunk, which meant that you couldn’t keep your hands off of eachother.

he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him every few minutes, if that was even possible.

your legs were draped over chris’ thighs, his hand rubbing circles on your thigh under the blanket, squeezing every now and then at the skin to make sure you were still there. everything felt fuzzy and numb.

you slouched into him further, your head basically in his armpit, relishing in the feeling of his hand on your thigh.

he was chatting to someone on his left, turning his head every few minutes to kiss your forehead.

after a while everyone decided to go inside and get warm.

chris pulled you off of him much to your dismay as he stood up. he pulled you up with him, his hand entwined with yours.

he bent his head a little, making eye contact.

“you okay?” he asked you, sliding your hair behind your ear.

“yeah i’m good, just cold.” you couldn’t help but laugh a little, his face blurry in front of you but you could still make out his piercing blue eyes. “and also very drunk.”

chris laughed, kissing your forehead quickly, his hand holding the side of your head.

you hummed quietly at the feeling of his lips pressing softly on your skin for the tenth time today, your eyes closing.

“what?” he smiled at you.

“nothing.” you mumbled. “that just feels nice, do it again.” you ordered.

“yes ma’am.” chris laughed, pressing his lips to your forehead once more, his lips lingering on your skin for a few seconds.

you and chris managed to find a seat on the sofa, squeezing in beside everyone else. most of your colleagues were dancing in the middle of the room, music blasting through the house. you peered around the room, noticing how everyone was far from sober.

you didn’t feel like dancing, you much prefered being hunched up to chris, and by the sudden movement of his hand resting on your knee, he felt the same way. his hand was warm, and you slowly started to gain some feeling back into your legs.

his fingers rubbed small circles on your kneecap, as you slurred your way through a conversation with a friend.

eventually one of your friends came over, pulling you up to dance. you turned to chris quickly.

“i’ll come find you later.” you said.

“alright love, i’ll be here.”

after dancing for about half an hour, you started to feel sick. maybe the ten vodka cranberries you drank had been a bad idea. you turned to your friend.

“hey, my stomach hurts, i’m gonna sit down for a while.”

she didn’t hear you, too busy dancing.

your stomach churned, signalling that if you didn’t get to the bathroom in the next five minutes, you were going to puke all over the lounge floor.

you spotted chris over in the kitchen, leaning against the sink.

“chris!” you stumbled over to him.

“y/n! hey, what’s wrong? are you all right?”

“no i think i’m gonna be sick. can you take me to the bathroom?”

“of course follow me.”

he grabbed your hand in his, dragging you up the stairs.

he pulled you into the bathroom just in time. you took one step towards the toilet and puked into it. all your drinks from the last few hours getting out of your system.

“oh, y/n...it’s okay just breathe through your nose.” he kneeled beside you.

chris held your hair back as you continuously spewed into the toilet, rubbing circles into your back to calm you down.

you shut your eyes, trying not to focus on what was happening.

after a few minutes, you sat back against chris, panting heavily.

he continued to rub your back slowly, wiping a cold flannel over your face.

you were horrified.

“chris i’m so sorry.” you mumbled, feeling embarrassed.

he just laughed, not seeming bothered at all.

you stood up with his help, laughing a little at the whole situation that had just taken place.

you washed your face with cold water from the tap, brushing your teeth and tongue thoroughly with an unopened toothbrush you had found in a cupboard.

chris stayed with you the whole time, his hand in yours, making sure you didn’t have the urge to throw up again.

you were still drunk, just less so. you kept giggling everytime you looked at chris through the mirror.

“what’s so funny?” he asked, joining in with the laughter.

“i don’t know...”

you made your way downstairs, feeling better.

you were about to make your way into the kitchen to make a drink when chris grabbed your wrist.

“y/n i don’t think it’s a good idea for you to keep drinking, you just threw up all your insides back there.” he laughed but you could tell from his tone that he was being serious.

you pouted and he pulled you closer to him, kissing you on the forehead.

“fine. maybe i should go home then. it is getting kinda late.”

“i’ll take you.” he said without hesitation, pulling you again towards the door. you thought that by throwing up next to him he would be a little distant, but if anything he was even more attentive and caring.

you both waved to everyone quickly. they hardly noticed, their minds clouded with alcohol.

chris had pretty much sobered up completely by now so he offered to drive you home.

you weren’t really listening. all the alcohol and vomiting had made you really sleepy. you leaned into chris as he guided you down the driveway. the cool air making you shiver.

chris rubbed at your shoulders as he slipped off his jacket to give to you.

“thanks chris” you mumbled with your eyes half-closed. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

he chuckled, helping you into the passenger seat of his car.

he leaned over you to plug your seatbelt in, and you took this opportunity to lean forward, smelling the top of his head.

“y/n, what are you doing?”

“i’m smelling your hair. it smells nice.”

chris laughed. “what does it smell like then.”

“it smells like chris.” you smiled up at him, poking at his cheek. your own face felt incredibly numb.

“and what does chris smell like?” he asked.

“like fresh bed sheets and warmth.”

chris laughed and kissed you on the forehead again. he seemed to be doing that alot tonight. but you definetly weren’t complaining.

you both drove home in silence. the windows down a little to let fresh air in.

chris hummed as he drove, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding your hand, squeezing it every now and then to make sure you were alright.

you loved when he was attentive like this.

and in that moment, driving along the road feeling dizzy, you decided that you really did see chris as more than a friend.

he was everything you’d ever hoped for in a guy, and more.

once you had parked outside your flat, chris helped you out of the car and up the steps, his arm around your waist the whole time.

you fumbled with your keys, finally getting the door open.

“let’s get you to bed ey? i’ll make sure there’s water and an aspirin for when you wake up. you’re definetly going to need it.”

“oi! i’m not that drunk!”

“whatever you say.” he rolled his eyes, helping you to your bedroom. he disappeared to grab the water and aspirin whilst you got undressed.

you held onto the bed as you got undressed, nearly loosing your balance as you pulled your dress down your legs.

“y/n what was that guys name that I was-“ chris stopped in his tracks, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head.

you were standing beside the bed in a small bralette and high-waisted panties.

“what are you doing?” he asked quietly, his face red.

“these are my pyjamas!” you sat down on the bed.

“sure they are...” chris moved towards you.

“creep.” you smirked at him as he laughed.

he came and sat next to you on the edge of the bed, handing you the water.

“thanks.” you mumbled, gulping it down in seconds.

chris took the glass from you when you were done, placing it on your bedside cabinet. he turned to face you, his hand resting on your cheek.

“thanks for looking after me tonight chris, honestly i shouldn’t have drank that many vodka cranberries. i’m sorry.”

he laughed, “stop apologising.” he said. “i’d do anything for my favourite girl.”

you looked up at him, his eyes boring into yours.

the room went silent and you weren’t sure what made you do it, but you leaned over and kissed him.

his lips captured yours, chris groaning a little from the contact.

his lips were incredibly warm, pushing back onto yours as he deepened the kiss.

your hands went up to his hair, whilst his went to your waist. you opened your mouth a little, wanting to feel chris’ tongue against yours.

he noticed, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

after a few minutes, you pulled back, catching your breath.

you waited for chris to say something. his lips swollen and his pupils dilated.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted that to happen.”

you giggled, moving to kiss him again.

you kissed for a while longer, your hands moving to take off his shirt. he stopped you.

you pouted as he pulled back.

“what?” you asked him.

“listen y/n, as much as i want to, i can’t have sex with you tonight...you’re drunk.”

you were shocked.

“come on chris...please? i want to i promise.”

he laughed, removing your hands from his lap.

“i know you do love, and so do i...more than anything. but i can’t take advantage of you like this when you’re drunk. if you still want to do it tomorrow..that’s fine.”

you frowned at him as he smiled.

he kissed you once more, making you laugh. you could never stay mad at him.

“fine.” you hugged his torso. “i hate the fact that you’re so nice.”

he laughed loudly, kissing you lovingly on the forehead.

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 05

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7.6k [5/6]

notes: second to last installment of a fic that didn’t need to be as long as it is!!! really this entire thing can be summed up with last chapter’s warning, which was “reader is dumb and jungkook is slutty.” i stand by it, okay!!! 🤷🏻‍♀️

warnings: dumb banter, a couple brief smutty bits, oral (f receiving), listen to slow dancing in the dark by joji during the soft smut scene in the middle if u want 

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

“No. No. God, no. Has your music taste always been this bad, or is this a recent development?”

“You will excuse yourself,” you retort sharply, wagging a finger at your brother. “Mr. Brightside is a classic and I will not hear this slander. Please feel free to permanently vacate the premises if you disagree.”

Jimin rolls his eyes from where he’s slouched on the couch beside you, one hand submerged in a bag of chips and his bare feet kicked up on the coffee table. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m dramatic? Really? You wanna go there, Chim?” You raise your hand and begin ticking off on your fingers. “I’m not the one who threw a fit over a piece of cilantro in my taco. I’m not the one who refused to bathe when Mom couldn’t find the right bubble bath.”

“Oh my god, I was eight,” Jimin snorts. “Both times. And cilantro tastes like soap.”

You raise a third finger. “What about the time you hid all the Monopoly money because you kept losing? Or when yo—”

A knock on the door cuts you off mid-sentence, and you nudge Jimin’s shin with your big toe. “Go get the door,” you order, and you aren’t sure if he’s just tired of hearing your voice, but he stands up without complaint and wanders into the entryway to receive your unexpected guest.

“Hey,” you hear him say. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” a very familiar voice replies. “I need some help.”

It’s Jungkook. Of course it’s Jungkook. You haven’t seen him since he dropped you off and kissed you senseless in your driveway, but you’d have to be delusional to think that you could avoid him for the next week and a half before you leave to return to Seoul. And yet, you allowed yourself to indulge in your delusions for two full days, before he tears them apart with ten simple, innocent words.

“So, I think I might have done the laundry wrong.”

Jimin laughs out loud, covering his mouth with his hand. “That’s all you, Noona,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at you, and you don’t even have wherewithal to lecture him about the sexism of his remark because Jungkook is smirking like he’s just won the lottery and you’re his grand prize.

“Noona?” he begins, his voice syrupy sweet and thick with intent. “Can you come help me?”

You glance down at your pajamas—gray sweatpants and a pink Pusheen t-shirt that’s a couple sizes too big. It’s beyond obvious that you have no plans for the day, and therefore no excuse not to help. Heaving a resigned sigh, you clamber to your feet and roll your eyes when Jimin immediately flops down across the newly abandoned couch and lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Have fun,” he calls lazily as you walk out, and you do your best to ignore the wicked grin that flashes across Jungkook’s face.

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it fun,” he says as he lets you pass by him to exit the house. “See you later, Jimin.”

As soon as the front door slams shut, you round on him with a glare. “Are you serious, Jungkook?” you hiss. “He’s totally going to catch on to… to whatever it is we’re doing.”

“You’re being paranoid,” Jungkook chides, clicking his tongue. He hops over the low bushes that divide your property, and waits patiently as you skirt around them. You follow him into his house—down the hallway and into a little side room that houses the washing machine and dryer—and as soon as the door swings shut, he’s grabbing you by the hips and pulling you close.

“This—this isn’t how you do laundry,” you stammer weakly, winded by his sudden proximity and the dark promise in his eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I may have lied a little bit. Would you have come if I hadn’t?”

You don’t answer, because you know he’s right. If you had your way, you would have avoided him until it was time for you to leave again. But Jungkook just doesn’t seem to be willing to let that happen, as he tightens his grip on your hips and tugs until you’re flush against him.

“See, the truth of the matter is, I’m actually good at laundry.” He smirks and tilts his head, dark bangs flopping across his forehead. “I’m good at other things, too. Why don’t you let me show you?”

Attraction blooms in your belly, hot as molten lava, and it takes the last ounce of your wavering restraint to say what you say next. “We can’t take too long,” you whisper, letting him hoist you up onto the dryer and jab the start button. The machine rumbles to life beneath you, and you nearly lose your train of thought when the vibrations go straight to your clit. “Jimin!” you gasp. “Jimin—he’ll kill you if he finds out. He’ll fillet your dick with a dull knife and serve it over rice.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Why are you talking about your brother? Is this your idea of dirty talk, princess? Because I gotta tell you—it’s not doing it for me.”

“Jungkook!” you chide, and he grins and moves to tug off your shirt.

“That’s much better.”

///

In the days that follow your laundry room tryst with Jungkook, sneaking around becomes routine. Both of your parents work—as do his—so avoiding them is easy. Jimin, however, is a different story. The dance classes he teaches are irregular, and the schedule shifts often enough that you’ve come dangerously close to getting caught on more than one occasion.

And it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook has taken to texting you at all hours of the day, even when you’re eating a sandwich on the couch with Jimin half-sprawled across your lap in his effort to invade your personal space as much as possible.

[12:35pm] Jungkook: hey i just thought of something

[12:35pm] Jungkook: you know how i call you princess?

You nearly throw your phone across the room. Cautiously, you glance at your brother, who is glued to the television and doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

[12:36pm] You: yeah…

His response is instantaneous.

[12:36pm] Jungkook: well i’ve got a throne for you to sit on

You almost sigh out loud. Please don’t, you write back, and you practically hear Jungkook’s cackle in your head as the ellipses that indicate he’s typing pop up at the bottom of your screen.

[12:37pm] Jungkook: it’s my dick ;)

[12:37pm] Jungkook: get it?

I fucking hate you, you tell him, thumbs flying across the keyboard.

[12:38pm] Jungkook: and i love fucking you

[12:38pm] Jungkook: princess ;)

///

After nearly a week cooped up at your parents’ house, you’re getting restless. Without a car, you’re confined to the suburban neighborhood you grew up in, and the revelation that you’re bored somehow spills out to Jungkook during one of the many heated makeout sessions you’ve started having in the backseat of his sedan.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” he’d asked, tilting his head curiously, mussed hair falling across his eyes. “I can drive you, if you want.”

And that’s how you find yourself wandering around downtown Busan on a beautiful Tuesday afternoon. Jungkook drops you off at the curb after cumming down your throat, and now that he’s dashed off to work the lunch shift at the restaurant, you’re free to explore all of your old haunts. The shopping center that you and your friends used to frequent is right around the corner, so that’s where you decide to start. After all, you’re still in need of some professional attire, and as much as you love your mom, you’d rather avoid the unflattering dresses and itchy pantyhose she would be sure to seek out.

As soon as you step through the glass revolving doors, you find yourself in a familiar air-conditioned paradise of shops and restaurants. Stopping at your favorite coffee spot, you treat yourself to an iced mocha before heading to the first store.

Two hours and three full bags later, you decide to head to the food court for a quick snack. You’d promised Jungkook that you’d meet him at the restaurant once you were finished, but a glance at your phone tells you that you have more than enough time to stop by Kim’s Kitchen. Mrs. Kim makes the best cookies in the entire city, as far as you’re concerned, and you decide to order a dozen to take home and share with your family.

You’re lowering yourself into a seat at one of the many tables scattered around the tree-lined atrium when you spot a familiar head of strawberry blonde hair. The owner spots you a split second later, and you return her smile as she immediately swerves and heads your way. “{Name}, hey!”

“Hey, Chaeyoung,” you greet, gesturing for her to take the chair on the other side of the table. “What are you doing here?”

“Same thing as you, from the looks of it.” She grins and hefts her shopping bag. “I swear I’ve been to every shoe store and still haven’t found what I’m looking for, but somehow I’ve bought this much crap anyway. What about you? What are you on the hunt for?”

“Professional attire,” you say with a grimace. “Why are pants so hard to find? I swear, they’re all either too long or too short, and never fit properly in the waist and thighs.”

Chaeyoung pulls a face. “Ew, I know. Pantsuits are a nightmare unless you have a tailor. And who has money for that?”

You laugh, nodding in agreement. “So what are you up to now? Mrs. Kim has cookies fresh out of the oven, if you’re interested. Cinnamon rolls too, I think.”

“Ooh, that’s tough,” she says thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “Would it be bad if I got both?”

“Not even a little bit,” you assure, reaching into your box and pulling out a cookie. “But here, I’ll make it easier for you. Hope you like chocolate chip.”

Chaeyoung gratefully accepts the cookie you hand over. “Who doesn’t love chocolate chip?” she asks, taking a bite.

“Criminals and heathens,” you reply, snagging a cookie for yourself. “Among others.”

She tilts her head. “Doesn’t Jimin hate chocolate chip?”

“My point exactly.”

Chaeyoung giggles, hiding it behind a manicured hand, and you laugh right along with her. Together, you decide to grab some smoothies, and when you sit back down, the conversation turns to your trip up to the lake house. “Next time, we’ll have to do a girl’s trip,” Chaeyoung says, propping her chin in her palm. “Feels like it’s been ages since we’ve done one. You must’ve been exhausted with all those boys around.”

Unwillingly, your thoughts turn to Jungkook. “It wasn’t that bad,” you say slowly. “It was actually nice, being able to spend some time with them.”

“Who ended up going, anyway? Your brother, obviously. Taehyung? Yugyeom?”

You nod, raising a hand and ticking them off on your fingers. “Jimin, yeah. Taehyung, Yugyeom, Taemin, Minho. And Jungkook.”

If Chaeyoung notices the way you pause before saying the last name, she doesn’t comment on it. Her expression grows pensive, and you can practically see the gears turning in her head as she considers her next sentence. “You must be seeing a lot of him,” she says at last. “Jungkook, I mean.”

You take a massive sip of your smoothie and wonder if you’re imagining the lingering taste of him on your tongue. “Yeah, a bit,” you manage, your voice surprisingly steady. “He games with Jimin a lot.” After a pause, you decide to tell her the truth. “He dropped me off today, actually. Jimin’s working this summer, and I’ve been stuck at home, so he offered to take me downtown on his way to work.”

Chaeyoung hums thoughtfully. “He’s working at a restaurant or something, right?”

“Just a few streets away, yeah.”

Slowly, she nods. “We went out, you know.” Her voice is distant. “Just for a few weeks. He ended it after… well, after we slept together.”

There’s a pause, as Chaeyoung lets you digest this information, and a part of you wants to spill everything to her right then and there. Jisoo told me, you want to say, as acidic guilt begins to bubble up in your belly, every memory of the moments you’ve since shared with Jungkook rising unpleasantly in your throat. I’m sorry. I’m so,so sorry. You say it over and over again in your head, but the apology gets stuck in your throat when you try to voice it aloud.

Chaeyoung takes a sip of her smoothie and leans back in her chair with a sigh, oblivious to your internal struggle. “Maybe I should have seen it coming,” she says, gnawing on the end of the straw. “Everything changed our senior year, you know? It was like a switch had flipped—he started dating around, relationships that never lasted more than a week… I really should have known better when he asked me out. But I guess I thought I was different. We were already friends, after all. But whenever we were together, just the two of us, he was always… distant. Like he was somewhere else, mentally.”

Her words trail off, leaving only silence that you don’t know how to break. Chaeyoung sips at her smoothie again, before huffing out a laugh and waving a manicured hand in your direction. “God, sorry! I can’t believe I just started monologuing, ew. Jungkook this, Jungkook that—god. I’m not even mad at him anymore, you know? I just want him to figure his shit out.” Her eyes flit up to you briefly, before skittering back down to where a cookie crumb has landed on the tabletop. “It’s funny, though. Seeing him at Taehyung’s graduation party was probably the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. He almost seemed like himself again.”

You can’t help it—the singular word bubbles up before you can stop it. “Really?”

Chaeyoung nods, her gaze flickering up to meet yours again. “Really. And honestly? I think it was because of you.”

Your heart does a series of backflips in your chest, thudding against the slats of your ribs. You try to respond, try to find the words, but they stick in your dry throat and your smoothie is practically gone at this point. Chaeyoung shrugs, unfazed by your silence, and you watch as she swirls her straw around in the remainder of her own drink. “I don’t know—maybe I’m imagining things. But it always seemed like he had a bit of a thing for you. Didn’t he used to follow you around the playground?”

The memory draws a startled laugh from your lips. “Sure, yeah. But that was in elementary school.”

Chaeyoung shrugs, smiling around her straw. “Still. We never really forget our first crush, do we?”

///

You head over to the restaurant after bidding Chaeyoung goodbye, her words weighing heavy on your mind and your heart. Through the tall glass windows, you can just barely make out Jungkook—looking sharp in a black collared shirt and matching slacks as he greets a table of diners. His smile is warm and his stance is confident, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s grown from that gangly kid you knew back in grade school when you catch the edge of flirtation lingering in his gaze.

The boy who used to follow you around the playground is gone. There’s no doubt in your mind about that. And so, you take a deep breath and walk into the restaurant, doing your best to smile at the host who greets you and asks whether you’d like to sit at a table or the bar.

“Hey, you made it!”

Jungkook strides over with a grin, taking the menu off the host’s hands and leading you over to an empty seat at the bar. “It’s full service, so you can order food here, too,” he explains. “You hungry? Thirsty?”

You glance down at the menu he places on the counter, scanning the lines of text. “Not really, but it smells really good so I might get something to go. And this carbonara sounds really good, actually.”

“It is,” Jungkook confirms. “I’ll go put the order in. You want some water or anything to drink?”

“Water’s good,” you tell him, and he nods before trotting off to do his job. You watch him disappear to the back of the restaurant before reappearing with a tray of glasses, and follow his meandering path through the tables as he disperses drinks and checks on the guests. Somehow, his shoulders manage to look even broader in his black shirt, and you can’t ignore the way they taper into a narrow waist that’s only emphasized by the belt threaded through the loops of his dark slacks.

He’s stopping at the table you first saw him at now, leaning in close when one of the women seated there asks him a question about something on the menu. His smile oozes easy charm, and you can’t help the feeling that flares in your chest when she reaches for the menu and purposely lets her fingertips graze his hand. Frowning, you tear your gaze away and focus on the wood grain of the bar counter. Your eyes zero in on a smattering of water droplets near your left arm, and you’re just about to run a fingertip through them when a voice sounds to your right.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

Surprised, you look up and find yourself face-to-face with a man who appears to be in his early thirties. Dark hair is brushed away from his forehead, a stray lock falling into his eyes, and you find yourself momentarily at a loss for words when your brain registers just how handsome he is.

“I—uh. I think Jungkook is going to grab me some water,” you finally manage, wanting nothing more than to melt into the ground when you hear the stammer in your voice.

“Ah, you know Jungkook?” The man laughs—a sound that is distinctly reminiscent of a squeaky windshield wiper. “He’s been pretty busy today, so why don’t I grab you that water instead?”

You nod, watching as he fills up a glass from the nozzle below the bar, accepting it when he hands it over. “Thanks.”

“Name’s Seokjin,” the man replies with an easy grin. “What’s yours?”

You return his smile and tell him your name. “Seokjin—Jungkook’s mentioned you a few times, I think. This is your place then, isn’t it?”

Seokjin beams. “Yep! Opened just a few months ago, after we finally sorted out the rat infestation and the asbestos problem in the rafters, and—” He pauses at the dumbfounded look on your face, and several beats pass before another peal of squeaky laughter escapes him. “I’m kidding. One-hundred percent. I promise the whole place is up to snuff.”

“So, I see you’ve met Seokjin.” Jungkook materializes at your side with a glass of water, which he takes a sip out of upon realizing that you already have a drink. “Is he making jokes about the health code again?”

“I would never,” Seokjin sniffs, and you laugh, finding yourself completely at ease for the first time since you entered the restaurant.

Jungkook rolls his eyes good-naturedly and turns his attention back to you. “Your carbonara should be out in a few,” he says, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”

“Positive,” you assure him. “I’m full of chocolate chip cookies, anyway. Here, you want one? They’re still a little warm.”

Jungkook eyes the box you pull out of your bag hungrily. “Hell yes. I can smell them from here.” Laughing, you push the box toward him and watch as he pulls a cookie out and takes an enormous bite. “Thanks,” he says in between chews, his cheeks puffy. You can’t help but smile when he takes a sip of water to wash it all down, his eyes growing round.

Turning to Seokjin, you offer him a cookie as well, which he declines with a graceful wave. “I should be feeding you, not the other way around,” he remarks. “You got the carbonara, right? I’ll go see if it’s ready.”

With one last glance at the patrons sitting at the bar, Seokjin departs with a promise to be back in five minutes. Jungkook finishes off his cookie, and you’re considering offering him another when a familiar chirpy voice sounds from your left.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here! What do you think—should we sit at the bar?”

You whirl in the direction of the voice, your eyes immediately landing on a group of three girls standing near the entrance. Two of them you don’t recognize, but the third you’ve seen before. Mina, you’re pretty sure her name was, and you’d recognize her anywhere. The last time you’d seen her was at the restaurant on the night of Jimin’s and Jungkook’s graduation, and your face heats at the memory of everything else that transpired that night.

“Welcome!” Jungkook draws you out of your thoughts, and you turn to see that he’s wearing a bright, welcoming smile. “Were you looking to sit at the bar, or at a table? It looks like there are a few empty spots at the end of the bar, if you ladies would prefer that. Otherwise, I can take you to a table.”

Mina’s face lights up in recognition, and you’re forced to hide your scowl in your water glass. “Hey, we’ve met before, haven’t we?”

“You work at that place a few blocks down, right?” Jungkook jabs a thumb in the general direction of the street. “I’ve seen you around.”

She giggles and tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “That’s right, yeah! I remember you now. Graduation, right? You were my best table of the night.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I bet you tell everyone that.”

“Not a chance,” Mina answers, looking him up and down before a coy smile curves her lips again. “I only say what I mean.”

“Honesty is the best policy,” Jungkook says agreeably. Then he turns to you, distractedly fiddling with his apron as he speaks. “Jin should probably be back with your food soon. Are you okay to sit here by yourself for a bit?”

You can only nod, still staring down into your water glass. “Yeah, sure. Go on, then.”

He smiles and gestures for Mina and the girls to follow after him, and you’re positive you don’t imagine the triumphant look that flashes across Mina’s face before she departs. Frowning, you grab a cookie from your box and break a piece off, grateful for the distraction. Seokjin drops off your carbonara a minute later, and you find yourself suddenly ravenous as you dig into the steaming bowl of spaghetti.

Jungkook returns to your side about five minutes later, raking a hand through his hair as he replaces his notebook back in his apron pocket. “Man, I’m beat,” he remarks. “Thank god Mina and her friends didn’t order anything complicated. My brain would’ve exploded.”

“Thank god for that,” you echo dully. Unwillingly, your gaze drifts over to where Mina is now sitting, chatting happily with her friends. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Seeing Mina here, of all places. I mean, what is she even doing here?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but most people go out and have fun on their days off,” Jungkook responds dryly, a grin breaking across his face when you roll your eyes at him. “Or wait… could it be that you’re jealous?”

You scowl. “Don’t be stupid.”

Jungkook just laughs, tilting your chin up with two fingers so he can look you in the eye. “It’s okay,” he says, his thumb brushing softly along the corner of your lips. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, princess.”

You don’t know how to respond to that, and thankfully you don’t have to. Seokjin returns with a takeout container for you to put your leftovers in, shrugging off your gratitude when you offer it.

“I’m discounting your food, too,” he says, leaving zero room for argument. “Any friend of Jeon’s is a friend of mine.”

Jungkook’s shift ends half an hour later. He turns on his roadtrip playlist on the drive home, and you are more than happy to let the music wash over you, eliminating any need for conversation and drowning out your thoughts.

“See you later, princess,” he says once he’s pulled into your driveway, following your every move as you climb out of the passenger seat.

It sounds like a promise coming from his lips, and you can only nod. “See you.”

///

You’re in the middle of buttering a piece of toast for breakfast the next morning when there’s a knock on the front door. Perturbed, you walk over to answer it, wondering if perhaps Jimin has forgotten his keys again, but when you peer through the peephole it isn’t Jimin who stares back at you.

“Jungkook—” you begin, swinging open the door, but he cuts you off before you can finish, taking your face in his hands and pressing his mouth to yours.

“Hey,” he whispers once he’s had his fill, pulling back just enough to mumble the greeting against your lips. “They’re all gone for the day, right?”

“Yes,” you confirm, still reeling from the suddenness of his appearance and the subsequent kiss. “But how did you—?”

“Jimin told me,” Jungkook answers shortly, before pulling you close and kissing you again. This time, you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his mouth against yours, following his lead as he ushers you back upstairs and breaking the kiss only once in the process. He lays you down onto your bed, the mattress dipping under your combined weight, and you sigh when he moves down to nip at your neck.

“No marks, Jungkook,” you remind him breathily. “You can’t leave marks.”

A low whine escapes him. “Can’t you wear a scarf?”

“It’s the middle of summer!” you huff in amusement, smacking his arm when he whines again and stubbornly sucks at the soft spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

Jungkook’s breath is hot against your skin. His fingers find the elastic waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them off your hips and down your legs, and you kick them off as soon as they’ve reached your ankles. Hungrily, his gaze traverses the newly revealed skin, and you shiver when he gently trails his fingertips up your calves and all the way to the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. “Jungkook,” you sigh. “I haven’t shaved in days.”

“Ask me if I care,” he replies hoarsely, leaning down to press the flat of his tongue against the growing damp spot seeping through the cotton of your underwear. It’s far from your sexiest pair—you’d categorize them as granny panties, in all honesty—but Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit fazed as he hooks them aside and licks a broad stripe all the way up to your clit. “Want you,” he groans, and the vibrations from his voice send a volt of tingling electricity straight up your spine. “Want you in every way I can have you.”

You don’t respond. You don’t have to, because Jungkook is diving in with the enthusiasm of a man starved, tossing your underwear aside carelessly before banding his arms around your legs to hold you open. His face disappears between your thighs until only the top of his hair is visible, the dark strands mussed. Lips parting in a moan, your fingers find their way to his head, tangling at his roots, and Jungkook parts from your cunt briefly to groan his approval. Then he’s eating you out again—alternating between broad licks and teasing flicks to your clit before his tongue delves into your entrance, inhaling deeply as if he just can’t get enough.

The sun rises higher into the sky, beaming through your window and illuminating Jungkook’s head and shoulders in warm, hazy gold. You chant his name as you reach your high, spurred on by his teasing tongue and whispered words of encouragement, and the grin he wears when he straightens back up is near blinding. Slowly, he peels off his shirt and shucks off his jeans until he’s completely bare before you, the sun painting him in warm strokes of color. Deliberately, he crawls up your body, hiking up the hem of your shirt as he does. He plants kisses into your newly bared skin, and when he reaches your lips he settles there as if that’s where he’s meant to be.

Jungkook kisses you slowly. He kisses you deliberately—sensually—and you melt into his gentle touch, relishing in the feel of his bare body pressed so intimately against yours. You don’t miss the way his cock hardens against your thigh, but Jungkook seems to be in no hurry to do anything about it. Instead, he cups your cheeks and licks into your mouth, and you’re all too willing to part beneath him like a flower in bloom.

The rest of the afternoon passes like this—hot kisses and slow fucking, the two of you meshing until you’re no longer sure where you end and he begins. You keep an eye on the time, though, and by the time your parents and Jimin return home, you and Jungkook are showered and dry, sitting on the living room floor embroiled in a Mario Kart tournament.

“No fair! You played without me?” Jimin whines, plopping down between you and trying to wrest the controller away from Jungkook. “C’mon, let me have a turn. You’ve been at it all day!”

Jungkook’s gaze flickers up past Jimin’s shoulder to meet yours, his lips twitching in barely suppressed mirth. “Yeah. We sure were.”

///

“God, I’m going to be sore for the next month.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” your brother snorts, squeezing your cheek between his thumb and index finger like you’re a small child. His three o’clock dance class has just wrapped up, and people are slowly filtering out of the studio. A few of the younger women glance back toward where you’re standing with Jimin, and you have no doubt they’re vying for one last look at your brother in his tight-fitting joggers and loose tank that keeps drooping off one shoulder. Rolling your eyes, you suppress the urge to loudly bring up the time he walked into a sliding glass door and nearly chipped his tooth. Instead, you pinch his cheek back, and laugh when he pouts.

“Ow, hey! What happened to giving me all your love and support?”

“Please, Mom made me come to your class,” you retort, batting his invasive hand away. “I think she just wanted me out of the house.”

Jimin laughs. “Can’t blame her. You’re a goddamn freeloader.”

“Seriously? Because in that case, I’m dying to hear what that makes you.”

Thoroughly nonplussed, Jimin pinches your other cheek before dancing away on light feet. “I’m an angel. Now go away, so I can get ready for my next class!”

Rolling your eyes again, you heft your bag over your shoulder and turn on your heel. “Fine, fine. Good luck, and all that. See you at dinner.”

Jimin doesn’t respond, and when you peer over your shoulder at him, he’s already sprawled on the floor and reaching for his toes in the unmistakable first step of his warm-up routine. He waves when he sees you watching, and you stick your tongue out at him playfully before exiting the studio and heading for the door. You’ve borrowed your dad’s car for the day, and hum cheerily as you climb into the driver’s seat.

You spend the rest of the afternoon running errands—stopping by both the post office and the bank before heading for the grocery store to pick up some ingredients for dinner. By the time you get back home, Jimin has finished teaching at the studio as well, and you fix him with a stare as you plop two full bags of groceries in front of him on the kitchen counter.

“Care to help me carry the rest in?”

“Not really,” he replies, but he stands up and follows you outside to the car nonetheless.

Once all the groceries are inside and unpacked, you begin prepping for dinner. Jimin, to his credit, offers his help without you even having to ask, and with his assistance you finish cooking in record time. Your parents join you in the dining room, and together you enjoy the meal over the evening news.

You retire to your room after dinner, cracking open your laptop to go over the details of your internship for the umpteenth time. You’ve read the emails and the attached documents so many times you practically have them memorized, but the anxiety gnawing at your belly refuses to be quelled. You’re returning to Seoul in less than a week, and your empty suitcase sits in the corner of your childhood bedroom like a taunt. You wonder, briefly, if you should start packing.

“Nah, it can wait,” you decide, muttering the words to your nonexistent audience. Standing up, you stretch lazily before exiting your room and heading down the hall to the bathroom that you and Jimin share, muffling a yawn behind your hand.

You’ve just finished brushing your teeth when your phone vibrates against the bathroom counter, a notification lighting up your screen. Spitting into the sink and rinsing off your toothbrush, you towel off your face before picking up your phone, blinking owlishly at the text.

[11:08pm] Jungkook: can you come over?

By itself, it’s not an unusual request. At this late an hour, though, you can’t help the unease that rises up in your belly. And as if sensing your apprehension, your phone vibrates again.

[11:09pm] Jungkook: my parents are out

[11:09pm] Jungkook: please? i could use some company

There’s an edge of desperation in his last message—something you haven’t seen in him since you returned home. It reminds you a bit of the Jungkook you used to know—the scrawny, gangly one with a nose too big for his face and an all-encompassing fear of the opposite sex. Give me ten minutes, you tell him.

Okay, Jungkook writes back. See you soon.

The next few minutes are a blur. You slather on some moisturizer and consider changing out of your pajamas and putting on a bra, but dismiss the thought immediately. Jungkook has seen you in far less, and you’re staunchly opposed to putting a bra back on after a certain hour of the night. Besides, he’s sure to dispose of your clothes at some point, so there’s little point in changing. With that thought in mind, you tiptoe out into the hall, past your parents’ bedroom and Jimin’s closed door. You carefully edge around the creakiest floorboards and hop over the two steps in the staircase that always groan when subjected to additional weight. Gingerly, you edge open the front door, just enough to slip out into the night.

The trek across the yard doesn’t take long, and Jungkook swings the door open before you even get a chance to knock. “Hey,” he says, and you can’t help but smile at the familiar round glasses perched on his nose. He’s in his pajamas as well—a blue and white checkered set that’s about two sizes too big—and when he ushers you inside, you catch a whiff of his floral laundry detergent.

“Hey,” you say. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Long day,” he sighs, raking a hand through his already tousled hair and mussing it further. “Come on in. You want anything to drink?”

You shake your head, stepping into the entryway and watching as he closes and locks the door again. Jungkook nods and shuffles to the kitchen, where he pours himself a glass of water from the faucet and downs half of it in one swig. His throat bobs as he swallows, his head tilted back to expose the long line of his neck, and you step a little closer as he turns to refill the glass.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll have some water too.”

“Mm. Okay.” Jungkook turns and fetches a second glass, filling it to the brim before handing it over. Then he takes your free hand and leads you upstairs, taking a left turn into his bedroom and nudging the door closed with his foot.

“So…” you begin slowly, putting your water down on the nightstand and reaching for the hem of your shirt. “We need to be quick. My mom’s a light sleeper, and I’m pretty sure I heard Jimin playing games in his room when I walked by.”

Jungkook chuckles and lays his hands over yours, stilling your attempt to take off your shirt. “When did you turn into such a horndog, Noona? Maybe I just want to hang out.”

You blink. “Did you just want to hang out?”

Jungkook plops onto his bed and grabs you by the waist, tugging you down and into his lap. “I mean, yeah—I thought that was obvious. Figured we could watch a movie or something.” Grabbing the tv remote, he switches on the television hanging on the opposite wall. “Any suggestions?”

You hesitate. You’ve been in Jungkook’s bedroom just once since you’ve come back, and the memory of the way he’d bent you over the desk in the corner sends a pulse of heat to your cheeks. Tearing your gaze away from the piece of wooden furniture, you instead focus on the television screen, watching as he navigates over to the Netflix menu.

“We can go old school too, if you want,” he remarks as he scrolls through the list of new arrivals. “I have a DVD player.”

That draws a laugh from your lips. “When was the last time you purchased a DVD? Last I checked, you only had Kung Fu Panda, Iron Man, and two copies of Titanic for some reason that you still won’t tell me.”

Jungkook laughs, his chest rumbling against your back. “Call it human error,” he says, looping his arms comfortably around your waist and propping his chin on your shoulder. “How do you feel about going super old school? I can get the VHS player out of the basement and pop in one of the Pokémon movies.”

“I’m sure we won’t have to resort to that,” you assure him, grinning. “Here, why don’t we just watch Iron Man? Three’s your favorite, right?”

“Three is everyone’s favorite,” he says, scrolling over to the appropriate menu and clicking play. “It’s the best one, hands-down.”

“Won’t argue with you there.”

The movie starts, and you shift off Jungkook’s lap to switch off the lights. Darkness overtakes the room as the screen lights up with the opening credits, and when you return to the bed, Jungkook has sprawled comfortably against the pillows lining the headboard. His eyes remain glued to the screen even as he reaches for you, and you hesitate for only a second before joining him, laying down beside him and letting his arm find its way around your shoulders. The scent of floral laundry detergent fills your nostrils, and you subtly nestle a bit closer, resting your head on his chest.

This isn’t the first time Jungkook has seen this movie. You know this for a fact, yet that doesn’t change how raptly he watches the screen, the action sequences reflected perfectly in his glasses. He’s practically vibrating with excitement by the time of the final showdown, mouthing along to the lines, and you hide your smile in the blue-and-white squares of his pajama shirt as the music swells.

It’s well past midnight by the time the credits roll. Jungkook seems perfectly content to lie on his bed with his arm around you, and when you make to get up, his grip slides down to your waist to hold you in place. “You gotta watch the credits all the way through,” he says, blinking at you with bleary eyes now that the adrenaline from the final showdown has worn off. “There’s a post-credits scene, remember?”

You shake your head, but let him pull you back down onto the mattress regardless. “I’m sure you already know what it is. Why don’t you just tell me?”

“What’s the fun in that?” he asks with a grin.

The end credits continue—an endless stream of names scrolling down the screen. Your eyes begin to droop, the words blurring together, and it’s only when the music stops and the final scene begins that you jolt awake. Jungkook is faring no better than you are, suppressing a yawn behind his hand as he watches the last bit of the film through half-lidded eyes. Then the screen goes dark, and silence descends over the room once more. You glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand and see that it’s nearly two in the morning. A look back at Jungkook reveals that both his eyes have fallen shut, and you slowly begin wriggling free from his embrace in order to head home.

You’ve barely moved an inch when Jungkook’s arm tightens around your waist. “Stay,” he mumbles sleepily, one eye cracking open.

You should say no. You should head home to the safety of your own bed. But there’s something about Jungkook—something soft and fond in his tired gaze and something vulnerable in the way he’s holding you so tightly against his pajama-clad body with his hair in complete disarray and his round glasses askew. Heaving a sigh, you reach up to take them off his face, placing them neatly on his nightstand.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll stay.”

Jungkook smiles sleepily and shuts his eyes. “G’night, then, Noona.”

“Night, Jungkookie.”

Within seconds, his breathing evens out, and you know he’s off in dreamland. Twisting in his grasp, you tug your phone out of your pocket and set a quick alarm for six o’clock. Neither of your parents wake up until seven at the earliest, and Jimin would sleep until three in the afternoon if he could get away with it, so you’re certain that you’ll have plenty of time to sneak back into the house. Besides, Jungkook’s bed is comfortable, and his chest is practically a furnace against your back. You aren’t sure you could work up the energy to leave even if you tried.

So instead, you settle back into his embrace and let sleep whisk you away.

///

There are birds chirping outside the window when you open your eyes the next morning, blinking blearily against the sun shining through the curtains. The blanket is tangled around your legs and there’s an arm looped around your waist, and you sit bolt upright when realization dawns. Jungkook groans and mumbles something unintelligible, but you don’t pay him any mind as you twist out of his grasp, clutching for your phone on the nightstand.

7:03am.

Shit.

Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you rise to your feet and shove your phone into the pocket of your pajama pants. Jungkook makes a sound that vaguely resembles your name, and you spare him a glance as you fumble for your shoes. He’s flat on his back, blinking hair out of his eyes as he fights to stay awake. “Hey,” he manages, his voice raspy.

“I gotta go,” you whisper urgently, successfully putting your shoes on the right feet and wrenching the door of his bedroom open. And then you turn and dash out, leaving a very sleepy, very disheveled Jungkook blinking after you.

Your house, when you carefully crack open the front door and poke your head inside, is quiet. Much to your relief, you don’t hear any of the telltale signs that your family is awake and downstairs yet—no drip of the coffee maker and no sizzle of bacon or eggs. From upstairs, however, you can distantly hear the sound of the shower, so you dart inside and toe off your shoes, padding into the kitchen to start the coffee maker. You check the alarm you’d set the night prior as you scoop coffee grounds into the filter, and curse under your breath when you realize you’d somehow managed to select six PM instead of AM.

You’re seated in the living room with a mug of fresh coffee when Jimin shuffles in with damp hair and a sleepy frown. “You’re up early,” you remark.

“I have a morning class to teach,” he replies, yawning widely as he grabs a fresh mug. “What’s your excuse?”

You shrug. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Fair enough.”

Suppressing another yawn, your brother turns his attention to the refrigerator, rooting around for the milk. And you return yours to the window, where you can see the side of the Jeon’s house, and Jungkook’s bedroom window on the second floor. There are no signs of life from within, and you wonder if he’d gone back to sleep after your departure. Considering how tired he’d looked last night, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

Chaeyoung’s voice echoes in your mind then, soft and wistful. It always seemed like he had a bit of a thing for you. Happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. And honestly? I think it was because of you. We never really forget our first crush, do we?

And then Jisoo’s words rise up in your brain, just a bit louder. He’s a heartbreaker. He never, ever stays until the morning.

So why, then, did you wake up in his arms today?

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Uhmmm.... so I had a prompt idea. What if hero arrested villain, and handed him to the authorites, and he basically told her that he'd make her pay for it. Then hero goes to the prison for a different reason weeks later, where she sees villain, terrified, sick, and drugged. So, she reluctantly takes him home and cares for him. She is scared he will attack her when he's lucid, but when he does fully wake up, he's just terrified.

This is such a good idea! I saw your submission right before I went to bed and laid there thinking about it, so as you can see I was quite excited to write it.

Paying For It

Warnings: threats, horrible treatment by authorities, left to be sick, fever, blood, drugged, forced sedation, unconsciousness, nightmares, smoking mention, paralysis (due to sickness), sick animal analogy, delirium

~

"You will pay for this," he growled as the handcuffs clicked into place. "I will make you you pay for this and not by money, no-" a chuckle "- I will hurt you."

Hero shuddered as she walked down the icy path back to the same prison that she recently turned Villain into. Horrible thoughts of that said villain breaking out and torturing her flooded into her mind, making her already chilly veins even colder. She hugged her fleece tighter around her and adjusted her scarf, suddenly wishing she wore her winter coat.

Before she knew it, Hero was trotting up the steps towards the concrete building. It was, by design, barren yet strong.

She had some documents to bring to the office. There was a new supervillain in town, actually more like ten, but Hero only managed to get information about the one. They most likely moved in after the biggest threat around, Villain, was arrested.

She opened the door, closing it quietly, and walked up to the desk. The hero, a young boy, most likely a sidekick holding down the fort while his mentor went to do something else, sitting up there was lazily playing a video game on his phone.

Hero coughed to get his attention. The boy didn't respond.

"Hello?" Hero asked.

The boy startled, tossing his phone backwards. "I wasn't," he defended, "on my phone, I swear."

"Uh huh," Hero grunted, sliding the papers over to the boy. "Where's your boss?"

"Probably smoking or something," the boy chuckled, then stopped and looked at Hero with a nervously apologetic expression. "I shouldn't have- you weren't meant to know."

Hero shook her head and said, "I don't care about my colleagues personal habits, but can you get him for me?"

The boy nodded and rushed off, returning later with a stern looking man.

"Superhero," Hero acknowledged, nodding slightly. He smiled then looked at the papers on the desk.

"Are these about..." He looked up at Hero.

"The new villain, yes," Hero finished his sentence, crossing her arms.

"Good, very good," Superhero momentarily flipped through them. In that silence, a thought bubbled up in Hero's mind.

"How's Villain?" She asked. "It's been awhile."

Superhero's face paled, as his toe nervously tapped the floor. Hero raised an eyebrow.

"We've had some... issues, so Villain is spending sometime in detention," Superhero said. He coughed, then said in an overly joyful tone, "Thanks for this Hero, do you want me to escort you to your car?"

"I would actually like to see Villain. Maybe I can, you know, talk to him about his behavior," Hero declined the offer, stepping in front of the papers. Something isn't right...

"Well you see, that wouldn't be beneficial. If anything it would be detrimental towards Villain's... redemption," Superhero pointed out, unconsciously chewing at his lip.

"We aren't a redemption center, Superhero," Hero said quietly, almost a whisper. "Let me see Villain or-" Hero grabbed the papers and proceeded to rip them "- these aren't your's."

Superhero rushed forward, putting his hands on top of Hero's and slid the papers back towards him. He gave a tiny smile and consented to her request.

They walked down the corridor and then down a couple flight of stairs until they reached a steel door with three locks- all with different keys. Hero watched with a stoned expression, thinking about what would happen if one of those keys were unfortunately lost...

"He's in here," Superhero spoke, dancing on his feet.

Hero stepped into the dark room, recognizing the detention cell that she helped invent, and flipped on the lights.

In the corner of the capacious cell, was a huddled figure. His back was towards her, legs spread out. With a pang in her chest, Hero walked up to him.

"V-villain," Hero breathed and crouched next to the figure. Villain whimpered and pulled himself deeper into himself, but his legs didn't seem to be connected to his brain.

Hero gently rolled Villain's head up to face her and nearly gasped when she took in the sight. He looked like a sick, stray cat. Mucus drained out of his nose as vomit spewed out from the corner of his mouth. His half-lidded eyes were bloodshot and had deep eyebags underneath with dried blood coating his cheeks. He had multiple, nasty cold sores all around his lips- or were they infected cuts? Maybe both.

"Why is he in this state?" Hero asked, astounded. This violated so many regulations and rules- the prison could be shut down, many heroes arrested or fined.

Superhero didn't respond. Instead, he appeared at Hero's side and crouched down next to Villain. The villain who didn't even seem to be aware of their presences.

Hero grabbed one of the wrists that were so protectively cuddled next to Villain's chest. He whimpered, trying to resist Hero's touch.

"No," he mumbled. "No no no no. Don't give... m-more... that mm stop." Villain started to breath heavily, his already fast pulse speeding up. With a heavy heart, Hero knew without even looking that he was drugged badly.

"Superhero... why?" Hero squeaked, turning over a wrist to see them heavily bruised and still bleeding from his most recent dose.

Villain started thrashing, but his legs wouldn't move.

"Why can't he move?" Hero asked, running a hand along Villain's shoulder. "Why can't he move his legs?!"

Superhero inhaled deeply then said, "He's very sick, uh... he probably has some sort of infection that makes it hard for him to move his lower body. Maybe, I don't really know."

"You don't even know what's wrong with your prisoner," Hero scoffed in disbelief, dragging Villain's limp body into her lap. She tried not to notice the wetness seeping into her jeans. It would only infuriate her that such a sick person would be kept in a wet and cold cell on top of being drugged daily without any medicines to help kick his fever.

"He's sick."

Obviously.

"I'm taking him home," Hero said, and scooped his way too light form up. His legs dangled uselessly, head falling off towards the side.

"That's illegal," Superhero pointed out. "He is in our custody now."

"And where does our rules permit excessive use of sedatives," Hero said in the same, authoritive tone. "Minimal use only to relax a distressed prisoner and only when necessary. Also, never to the point of unconsciousness." Hero gestured with her head towards Villain's closed eyes.

"And where do they permit us heroes to contain a villain on private property?" Superhero tutted. "Set him down and let me do my job."

"I'll call the authorities," Hero threatened, "and take you to court."

Superhero groaned and threw his hands in the air. That was not a risk he could take.

"Fine," he growled, storming out of the room, leaving Hero in silence other than the slow dripping from a leaky pipe.

She quickly tore off her fleece and wrapped Villain's shivering body up. His eyes fluttered open and he mumbled something incoherently, but that was all as his eyelids slipped closed once again.

Then, she carried his ragdoll-like body out of the prison, down those steps, and into her car.

She laid Villain's limp form on one of the backseats, propping his lolling head against the window and buckled him in. His arms hung lifeless at his sides, legs completely devoid of strength.

With a nervous whimper, Hero sped home.

At home, Hero took a warm washcloth and wiped off the dried blood and mucus to reveal unevenly toned skin underneath. She delicately picked the dry crust off his eyelashes and eyebrows. It was rock hard and the warm water wouldn't loosen it, so she was forced to pull on the tiny hairs. At least he wasn't conscious for the pinpoints of pain.

Hero suddered, thinking about what would happen when he did wake up. Surely, he would keep to his word and hurt her, beating her up for imprisoning him and then of course this newfound dilemma.

She looked down at his sleeping form and sighed. She had him elevated to make sure his airways stayed clear, but his head kept falling to the side and onto the backrest of her daybed. His lips quivered, forming soundless words and pleas.

Hero gently touched his forehead, retreating at the burning heat. His eyes slowly blinked open at the contact, he moaned, and then they rolled back again and closed.

Hero sat next to him for rest of the day, worriedly anticipating his attitude upon awakening. However, as the hours went on and Villain didn't seem to be regaining consciousness too much, Hero realized that they would be in for a roughly long time.

Villain was probably drugged like that the moment he entered that building and judging by his health and state of his wrists, Hero also guessed that there was no care whatsoever during the admission or the aftercare.

Hero ran her fingers over Villain's pale cheeks. His mouth was parted open and he snored slightly from the congestion. Tears leaked from his eyes, irritating the tender skin below. Hero went and grabbed some lotion, smearing the white cream over the red rashes.

Villain jerked away suddenly, curling into himself and protectively guarding his arms. His heavy breathing went shallower and quicker as tiny noises escaped his mouth. Hero sighed and stopped touching him; he was likely trapped in a nightmare.

Hours turned into days, and only then was Villain awake enough to be aware of Hero's looming presence.

Though, his reaction was not what Hero was expecting.

He screamed, shoving himself and his weak form to a corner of the bed and gathering his leaden limbs into a huddled mass of burning skin. He shrieked and sobbed, and watched Hero with wide, exhausted eyes.

"Leave me alone!" He yelled, pulling up the covers in a bade to protect himself. "Please."

Hero never once in her life felt so utterly useless.

She was, like Villain promised she would, paying for her actions.

[honeytae]

if you’re open for regular requests i’d love to request lil scenarios of the boys learning english alongside their english-speaking s/o! this is totally self-indulgent i’m doing the TEFL program and i’m going to south korea next year to teach :)

first of all, that’s amazing omg!! congratulations my love, i hope you have the best time over there and please don’t be shy in sharing your stories with us!!! i tried to stick to the boys actually learning english with their s/o but i strayed from that with a few members just bc i ran out of ideas lol but i hope you still enjoy!

fair warning....i’ve never ~seriously~ tried to learn korean, so i’m not entirely certain of the parallels between korean and english. i just hope these are wholesome enough to override that lmao

namjoon:

“You know,” Namjoon looked up from his phone, “I understand expanding your vocabulary, but why are there so many weird slang words?”

“Kids these days?” You shrugged, the man chuckling in response before flipping his phone around to show you what had puzzled him.

“If something slaps, that’s...good?” He wondered, watching as you suppressed a smile at the tweet he was showing you.

You could tell by the profile picture that the user was an ARMY, one of the many fan profiles on the platform, and the tweet was written completely in English.

Although there was a ‘Translate to Korean’ option readily available with just a tap of his thumb, you knew Namjoon never missed an opportunity to challenge himself to be able to fully comprehend what a native English speaker was trying to say.

You nearly snorted at the tweet’s content, smiling as you read it out loud.

“The Dis-ease bridge just saved my life. Seriously, this song slaps.”

Glancing at Namjoon, he raised his eyebrows, eagerly waiting for you to translate and explain what that could equate to in Korean.

“It’s definitely a good thing, Joon. They love it.”

At your interpretation, Namjoon grinned, nodding to himself as he pulled his phone back in front of his face to scroll through more reaction tweets to the new album release.

seokjin:

“What the hell is that?”

You picked your head up from your sketchbook when you heard Seokjin whine from beside you, eyebrows knitting together at his distressed tone. Taking a glance over at his laptop screen, you found his mouse bouncing from letter to letter on one of his weekly english lessons.

“What is that, like 15 letters? How do you even use that in a sentence?” He went on, obviously flustered by the word on the screen.

Pulchritudinous.

You placed your hand over his to stop his panicked counting of the letters, causing him to look over at you with a sigh as he frowned.

You nearly giggled at his reaction, but the genuine fear in his eyes made you stifle it as you soothingly held his hands in yours. 

“It’s just an over complicated way of saying beautiful. I don’t know why they’re teaching you that, nobody ever uses it.” You assured him, his eyes going down in size a bit at your words before he nodded.

Watching as a smirk tilted his lips, you raised your brows at the sudden expression.

“What?”

“Well like, I could say I’m...that?” He said, eyebrows raised cockily as he gestured to the long word stretched across the screen.

“Well it’s actually not used like,” you paused, giving in with a shrug as you grinned back at him.

“Sure, love.”

yoongi:

“Why did I skip English class all the time?” Yoongi sighed, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers as he plucked at the skin in frustration.

“Because you were trying to be a rebel.” You answered without looking up from your phone, the man obviously not liking your answer as he reached over to where you were laying beside him to pinch at your hip.

Yelping, you scooted across the mattress to get away from his hand, whining his name with a scoff before looking over at his notepad.

“What are you doing, anyway?” You asked, leaning on your palm as you scanned the rows of scribbled English letters written on the page.

“I’m trying to get better at writing.” He admitted shyly, a small grin on his face to match the fond one on your own. 

“Aw,” you pouted, Yoongi raising his eyebrows at your tone, “but I like your chicken scratch.”

“You’re such a brat.” He chuckled, adjusting the velcro on his brace with a grunt.

Since Yoongi’s shoulder surgery took away obvious straining activities like dancing and performing, he’d turned to studying English from the comfort of your bed during his recovery as one of the only safe activities he could partake in for a while.

It was now one of his favorite past times, learning new words and phrases he could potentially use in the future. It worked for you both because it took his mind off the pain and kept him motivated, and since you could speak both his and your language, you could help him out whenever he got stuck on something.

Usually he did lessons verbally on his phone, but it seemed today he had taken the old fashioned route.

“Your handwriting really isn’t bad, Yoongs.” You observed, the carefully placed tails at the end of each ‘a’ making you smile out of fondness for the man.

“My man has the prettiest handwriting.” You cooed, pushing a strand of his stark black hair out of his eyes as he blushed down at his notebook.

“Stop that.”

hoseok:

“Hey, babe?” Hoseok called for you, listening to your footsteps growing closer before you popped your head into the kitchen doorway.

“Yeah?”

“I’m having a little trouble.” He gestured to his open laptop on the counter, you recognizing it as an assignment from his English course.

“What happened?”

“Pronouns. Pronouns happened.” He pouted, his disdain for the new chapter quite obvious as he stared down his computer screen.

“What about them?” You asked, stepping closer to the man sitting at the kitchen island and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I need to make ten sentences using proper pronouns and I feel like I’m doing it all wrong.” He explained, causing you to hum as you looked over his sentences.

“These look great, Hobi.” You smiled as you glanced over the first three he’d written, flawlessly executed on the document.

“Can you help me with the next one?” He wondered, you nodding your head as you took a seat on the stool next to his.

“What do you want the next one to say?” You asked, watching as he glanced off to the side in thought, slightly squinting his eyes at the tile floor beneath the sink.

“My house is next to,” He spoke in English, pausing as he searched his brain for what pronoun to put next.

“Theys?” He answered as more of a question, then shaking his head as he switched back to Korean, “wait, no.” He sighed, placing his chin in his hand in thought before glancing over to you.

“I know it’s wrong, I just don’t know what the right answer is instead.” He explained, you shooting him a loving smile as you pushed the dark raven hair off his forehead and pressed a kiss to the newly revealed skin.

“I’ll help you, Sunshine. No worries.”

jimin:

Flopping onto the bed, you let your tired body fall on top of Jimin’s hoodie clad chest, his arm encircling your body as he mumbled a soft greeting to you.

“Hm, what are you learning about today?” You nuzzled into his chest, peering at his phone propped up on his thigh.

“Animals. Birds, mostly.” He answered, briefly turning from the screen to press a kiss to your head before focusing back on the row of English words matched with pictures of popular birds glowing from the device.

The first was a robin, the next a blue jay, and then a dove.

You listened as the virtual instructor prompted Jimin to repeat after her, spelling out the letters before stating the whole word. You smiled as your boyfriend followed instruction, pronouncing the words the best he could after the microphone chimed for him to do so.

“D-o-v-e. Dove.”

“Dove.” He repeated, smiling to himself as the app announced he got the point with a little heart.

“That’s cute.” He went back to his native language, you humming in confusion as you lifted your head up off his chest to look at him.

“The heart?” You asked, reaching up to twist a stray strand of hair out of his eye as he shook his head.

“Dove.” He said again, making you tilt your head, not knowing what he meant.

“It sounds like ‘love.’” He connected the two English words, you smiling fondly at him in response before scooting up the bed to kiss the tip of his button nose.

“You’re so cute.”

taehyung:

Three knocks at the door announced someone’s arrival to your bedroom, causing your head to lift from the novel you’d been so immersed in. Taehyung was home, but you’d wanted to give him space because you knew he needed to work on lyrics for his mixtape in order to submit them on time. 

“Hey,” he poked his head in with a small smile, “can you help me with something?” He asked sheepishly, stepping further into the room when you nodded.

“Of course. What is it?” You set your book down, marking your place before closing it to pay full attention to your boyfriend.

“Well, I’m trying to write this verse in English and,” he trailed off with a shrug, “you know.” He finished, you nodding in response with a gesture for him to come sit next to you.

He eagerly walked over to you with his notebook in hand, lowering himself to the mattress before rolling his way over to where you were leaning against the headboard.

Honestly, Taehyung’s English wasn’t bad at all. He was insecure about it, but you’d never really understood what the reason for that feeling was. His vocabulary was more than decent, his comprehension was good, and his pronunciation was great for having such a thick accent.

But there were many times where Taehyung came to you for guidance, as you were a native English speaker yourself.

And so, as he rested his head on your shoulder confiding in you about everything he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it, you patiently took him through what would work and rhyme best, smiling as he hummed the melody to himself to see if the phrases would work in his creation.

jungkook:

“Baby, can you read it to me again before we go on? Just one more time.”

You glanced over at your boyfriend in his makeup chair, several employees bustling around the man as they attempted to get him ready to go on stage while they had him seated.

With his arm extended backward to where you stood behind his leather chair, he offered his phone to you while shooting you a grin through the reflection in the mirror.

Taking the device from his hand, you opened it to the notes app where he’d written what he wanted to say in his statement on stage in just a few minutes.

You were in London tonight, which meant that all of the boys had been rehearsing their English so that they could communicate easier with their audience.

Jungkook, ever the over-achiever, was determined to do the toughest English tongue twister he could possibly find. Not only that, but in a British accent for his British ARMY’s.

“Betty bought a bit of better butter to make her bitter butter better.” You read from the phone, barely able to read the sentence yourself before you glanced up at Jungkook through the mirror again.

You watched your boyfriend nod as his brain took in the words you’d just said, taking a deep inhale before he began speaking the phrase back to you.

You gawked as the man effortlessly repeated after you, a few of the makeup artists stopping as well as Jungkook raised his eyebrows back at you.

“Was that okay?”

[fruitcoops]

hey! i love your work so much and i had an idea. what about the whole team going to pride? or maybe just the cubs or coops, but i would love to see the whole team supporting and maybe breaking out flags of their own. :)))

Happy Pride, everyone!!! It has been such a wild year, but I hope you all find comfort and joy during this month <3 I'm sending you all love and hugs (or high-fives, if you prefer), as well as positive vibes for the summer. SW credit belongs to @lumosinlove as always!

Credit to @queercanoe for the the rainbow bracelet idea <3

“This is…this is really nice,” Sirius said as they stood in line for popsicles. His face glowed with happiness and Remus squeezed his hand where it laid over his shoulder.

“Better than last year?”

He hummed in thought. “I like being here without the Cup and all the cameras. It’s just us.”

“And half the team,” Remus added.

“True,” Sirius laughed, bending down to kiss his forehead. Some of the glitter Lily had managed to sprinkle over his head and smear on his cheeks fell onto Remus’ shirt, and he brushed it off with a laugh. “Love you.”

“Love you, too. The kids are still arguing.”

Sirius glanced behind them and snorted; on the other end of the block, Leo hitched Logan higher on his back as he held Finn’s baseball cap out of reach. Talker and James had started an impromptu game of volleyball with a stray balloon, and the sight of Regulus playing peekaboo with Harry using his pride flag cape sent a burst of happy butterflies through Remus’ stomach.

“D’you think they’ve even noticed we’re gone?”

“Doubt it.”

They tapped their popsicles together in a toast and meandered back to the group—the afternoon heat toned down some of the manic energy of the morning parade, and Remus was content to just wander hand-in-hand with his fiancé for a while.

Not your fiancé for long, he reminded himself as the ice cooled his mouth. Just five more days, and then you’ll have a ring, too.

He stood on his toes, still a little sore from dancing earlier in the day, and kissed Sirius’ cheek. “What was that for?”

“Nothing. Just ‘cause I love you.”

Sirius let out a slow breath and squeezed him a little tighter around the shoulders, catching a drip of syrupy red before it slid down to his elbow. “This is the perfect day.”

“It is, isn’t it? Ooo, blue raspberry.”

“Can I have a taste?”

“Of c—” Remus was cut off by warm lips against his own, shorting out every braincell in one fell swoop. You sly little shit, he thought, smiling into the kiss as Sirius dipped him back.

They straightened up after a moment and Sirius raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s pretty good.”

“Your lips are purple.”

He licked his own half-melted popsicle before dragging Remus in for one more kiss, though both of them were almost laughing too hard for his plan to work. “There. Now we match.”

“Thanks, babes.”

“Hey!” Finn cupped his hands around his mouth, clearly giving up on retrieving his hat. “Are you done yet? I was promised popsicles!”

Remus flipped him off and pulled Sirius down by the collar of his shirt, suddenly uncaring of the stickiness making its chilly way down his forearm. It was their day to do that, after all; their day to be flamboyantly affectionate to anyone in sight, regardless of contracts and media and expectations. It was a day drenched in popsicle sugar where he could turn his soon-to-be-husband’s lips more purple than the dahlias he loved so much.

“You could’ve just said ‘no’,” Finn remarked as they rejoined the group, both a little flushed.

“As if you’ve kept your hands to yourself,” Remus teased, gesturing to the various smudges in Finn’s face paint.

He hesitated, then shrugged. “Good point.”

“I have them on occasion.” A burst of giggling caught both their attention and softness bloomed in Remus’ chest as Sirius tossed Harry a few inches into the air, making rocket ship noises. Next to him, Leo had set Logan down so he could lift Katie up and tickle her until she shrieked with joy.

“God, they’re cute,” Finn said around a mouthful of syrup-soaked ice. The look in his eyes was unmistakably fond, and Remus knew it was reflected on his own face.

“They are. The boyfriends aren’t bad, either.”

Finn snorted, then spluttered as he nearly spat out his popsicle, sending Remus into peals of laughter. “Stop it!” he complained, though the didn’t sound very upset at all. “I’m gonna get a brain freeze!”

“A brain freeze?” Sirius turned to Harry with exaggerated shock.

“Oh, no!” Harry gasped. Behind them, James stifled his smile in the side of Lily’s neck.

“It’s not lookin’ good, buddy,” Finn said with false gravity. “Popsicles are a dangerous food.”

Harry made grabby hands until Finn settled him on his hip, then took his face between two chubby hands and looked deep into his eyes. “Your lips are blue,” he proclaimed after a long moment.

“Are they?”

“Uh-huh. Tremzy’s got red lips, an’ Knutty’s got red lips, and Mama has pink lips, and Uncle Pads has purple lips.” Harry poked the side of his mouth. “You’ve gotta have purple lips, too.”

Finn raised his eyebrows at Remus over Harry’s shoulder. “Not a chance, Harzy.”

“We’re better kissers anyway,” Leo said with a grin as he sidled up and gave Finn a light peck. “Better, Pocket Pots?”

Harry stuck his tongue between his teeth in a comical imitation of Sirius’ concentration face; Remus shoulders shook as he held back his amusement. “Almonds.”

“What?”

“Almost,” Sirius corrected gently. “Not almonds. Close, though.”

“Tremzy!” Harry called. Logan looked up from Katie, who was quite happily upside down as he swung her like a clock pendulum. “You’ve gotta make Harzy’s lips purple!”

“Do I?” Logan glanced back down. “Can I set you down, ma princesse?”

“No!”

“Okay,” he laughed, hauling her over with careful steps. Finn leaned down to kiss him; over his shoulder, Leo and Harry made faces at each other.

“This is perfect,” Sirius murmured, resting his forehead against Remus’ (admittedly sweaty) hair. Remus closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let the stress of wedding planning roll off his back. He could be surrounded by their family in a sea of color for just a little longer—they could be there together.

“I’m proud to be with you,” he said as Regulus clambered onto Leo’s back for ‘a better view’.

It was a cheesy sentiment, but they had never shied away from romcom moments before. He felt Sirius’ soft huff of breath on his temple. “Re…”

I’ll never get tired of the way you say my name. “That’s me.”

The sigh turned to quiet laughter and a kiss. “We are such a cliché.”

“But you love it.”

“Damn right I do.” His lips were sweet and a little sticky, still; Remus wanted to drown in the feeling. “I will always be proud to be with you.”

“Uncle Pads!”

“Yes?” Sirius lifted him out of Finn’s arms with a dramatic groan. “You’re growing up too fast!”

Harry squished his cheeks, then poked the tip of his nose. “Why don’t you wear rainbows?”

Sirius frowned slightly. “I’m wearing rainbows right now.”

“But you only wear them now.”

“You want me to wear rainbows every day?” He cast a look at Remus, who half-shrugged.

“You do look good.”

“Everybody should wear rainbows all the time,” Harry declared. Down the street, a series of party poppers went off, followed by loud cheering from another group.

“Excuse me?” a timid voice asked. Remus startled slightly and turned around; a small group of teenagers was huddled by the massive balloon arch. One young man held his phone up. “Could we—uh, could we get a picture with you guys?”

“Do you want me to take it for you?” Leo offered as Finn took Harry again.

The kid’s eyes went wide, and he nodded enthusiastically. “Sure, thanks!”

“Alright, on three!” Leo squinted in the sunshine as they gathered in a semicircle. “One, two, three, smile!”

“Could we get one with you, too?” one of the girls asked when he lowered the camera.

Sirius took the camera as they shuffled around and swapped positions, crowding close to the rainbow balloons while Harry played with Remus’ colorful suspenders. “Ready? Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” they chorused.

“I got a couple, just in case.” He handed the phone back to the first boy with a smile. “Are you guys having a good time?”

“Yeah, this is amazing,” he answered, a little breathless. “It’s—this is so cool. Thanks again.”

“Pas de problem.”

Remus glanced over just in time to see the girl bump her own rainbow bracelet with Leo’s; both of them were grinning broadly. “Have fun today, okay?” he said, giving the shortest of the group a high five. A jumble of goodbyes answered before they hurried back into the crowd, whispering among themselves while their pins flashed in the sun.

“They were cute,” Sirius said, watching them go with an indecipherable look. “Feels good to know it meant something, y’know?”

“It always does,” Remus agreed, snuggling against his side despite the heat. “I wish—”

Sirius looked down at him when he faltered; Harry yawned so wide his eyes closed. “What?”

“I wish we had this when we were kids.”

Regulus and Leo tumbled out of the rapidly-growing crowd, bickering over who got which part of the cotton candy, while Kasey stood as still as he could so Natalie could finish the small bi flag on his cheek. Sirius’ whole face lit up as he watched them. “It’s even better now.”

Remus watched the second wave of the parade build around them—people of every shape and size were decked out in a whole spectrum of colors, turning the street into a living rainbow in the afternoon sun. He tucked his hand into Sirius’ back pocket and laced their free hands together, listening to his heartbeat under his cheek. “This is the best thing we’ve ever done.”

“Coming to Pride?”

“No.” He held their hands up, and Sirius’ ring caught the light. “This.”

[umbralsound-xiv]

Prompt #24 - Vicissitudes

Character: Eir Radz-at-Han, 1547, Sixth Astral Era

The smell of incense floods the room, the wisp of smoke caught in the fading light from the windows. Their home was quieter than it had been a few decades ago, but held no less love.

Eir returns from the kitchen with a cup in each hand; well worn pottery that chipped and flaked at the edges, one of which seemed decidedly tailored for him, if the inscription of ‘papa’ painted on the side had any indication, long wethered from the ages. It had been repaired at least twice.

He settles a cup beside the woman who occupied the sofa, sprawled with her feet in front of her as she hesitantly tapped at a page with quill. Ears much too long to be a Miqo’te, and much too short to be a Viera, widened eyes peer through the darkness with ease as she pens a few more words within a half-finished book.

“Is that still the same book, or another one, Lili?” Eir asks, as he settles himself on an armchair closest to the window, to make the most of the dying light. A book lay pages down on the armrest, which he plucks up to continue reading.

“...A different one. I thought of a good idea for the next chapter, i’m just having trouble wording it.” She reaches for her chai, and takes a small sip. “...It’ll come to me.”

“I am sure it will.” Eir hums with a small measure of pride, slowly tuning a page. “...Is it a happy book, or a sad one?” He asks, briefly glancing up.

“Sad.” Lilya hummed, seemingly content with her answer. “Happy books are harder to write. But i’ll get there with that one too.” She smiled, even as his brow furrowed a little.

“Another sad story?”

“Sad stories sell better. Sad stories also make better dances...” She murmurs, dipping her quill into the inkpot again.

“...I suppose they do.” Eir mumurs, returning his gaze to the decidedly more lighthearted fiction. “...I prefer the happier tales.”

She gives a short huff of amusement. “I know, Pa. I’ll finish it... Right after this one.” A smile takes her lips, which slowly knits into a frown, as a hand shoots up to press to her temple.

A splotch of red mingles with the blank ink of the words, as she gives an audiable groan of pain.

“Lilya?”

Eir’s spoke her name with all the weight of a concerned Father, swiftly abandoning his book to set it back on the armchair. He moves to grab a small cloth and offers it to his daughter, who takes it to stem the trickle of blood from her nose.

“It... It’s okay.” She reassured, nodding, swinging her legs around to find her feet over the edge of the sofa. “It’s just a headache. We’ll go pick up my medicine tomorrow.”

That pointed frown on Eir’s features doesn’t leave for a moment. As she stands, he wraps his arms around her, smoothing a hand over silvery hair and oversized ears. “...No. You stay here and rest, Lili. I will go fetch it in the morning.” He presses a kiss to the crown of her head, sighing as he released her to look over her. The stream of red had stilled, some, but it wasn’t enough to settle him.

“…Papa…” Lilya presses her cheek against him for a moment in a brief embrace before pulling away. Her concern sounded more for him, than it did for herself, peering up owlishly with pale yellow eyes to meet the silvery ones of his own. Filling her lungs to speak again, no word manages to leave, quickly smothered by a hoarse coughing.

“Lilya...” Eir trails, tracing fingertips through her hair, blood clinging to her chin where she had failed to catch it. Even if she fights to give him a smile.

“It’ll… I’ll be okay. I just… Need some rest, i think.” Lilya’s hand reaches to pat at his own, before she moves back a few paces to the doorway. “Sleep well when you go, okay? We’ll go out in the morning.”

Giving a resigned sigh, Eir lowers his head into a quiet nod, moving back to take his seat in the armchair. “...In the morning, then.” He reluctantly agrees to the compromise, features still writ with concern. “Rest well, Lilya. I will come wake you when it is time to go, okay?”

She nods, smiling faintly over her shoulder.

“…I love you, Papa.”

“I love you too, Lili. Goodnight.”

Her footfalls fade away in the direction of her room, a small sigh leaving his lips as his gaze settled on the still steaming cup of chai on the table, before reaching for his own.

---

He had been awake for a short while. Breakfast made and eaten, he had left a slice for his daughter in the rare event she wished to eat something; a thick slice of bread slathered with vibrant jam. They would get more of it when they went to the market, he thought. The bell drew closer, and with no footsteps heard from her chambers, he saught to wake her.

“Are you awake?” He calls through the curtain to her room, on the off chance he’d not heard her. But there is no response. Frowning, he pushes the fabric aside, to enter.

“Lilya?”

She remains in her bed. Turned away to the wall, only the cascade of silver hair poured over her pillow, too-long ears remaining stationary, his call unheard. Blankets curled around her form even in Thavnair’s damnable heat; she was always too cold, no matter the season.

Eir’s breath hitches in his throat. Hesitant, fearful footsteps are punctuated by wooden floorboards, as he drew closer towards her, a hand outstretched in an effort to wake her.

“Lili?”

As his fingertips met her shoulder, he found his answer.

Grief bubbles up like a well, hands shaking in disbelief as he falls to his knees. A gentle shake, followed by a more insistant one, his chest tightening as a sob breaks free of his lips.

“No... No no no... Please, no...”

He begged. He begged to any God that would hear him. But there was never a reply.

“Please... Wake up? We have to go. We have to go get your medicine...” He sobbed, as tears rolled down his cheeks. “Lili...?”

His tone stung with grief. Slowly, he rolls her towards him, cradling her in his arms as he wept into the mass of silvery hair he himself had blessed her with.

“Lili, please!” A fitful wail is sung from his throat, his entire form shaking with uncontainable anguish. Hands ball into the blankets, desperately rocking her motionless form against himself. “Please, wake up! Please...”

A fought sob, as he looked upon her face. She looked like she was sleeping. Peaceful. Were it not for the absence of movement or breath, none would have known.

“I... I do not... W-want to be alone...” He whispered.

But it didn’t matter.

He spoke aloud, and for the first time in more than fifty cycles, there was no one left to hear him.

Whether he wanted to or not, there was little choice in the matter. He always knew he would outlive her. Always.

Such was the curse of a life long lived.

...Once again, he was alone.

[emperor-palpaminty]

can we have some badass tech

Why yes, yes you may, that is my fav tech

I also got carried away so tech has a lightsaber (badass) and he's also an a+ bf (also badass)

You stood in the middle of the dark woods, saber bright against the depths of the endless evening. You exhaled, reaching out with the force. You felt no one- no other living, breathing being.

Your heart dropped, remembering what you had told your men. You must stay, I must go alone. The battle is mine.

You had recalled the moments alone, before fleeing the Havoc. You had been cleaning your saber, folding your robe softly, and a soft voice sounded from behind you. 

“General,” Tech had said, voice constricted. “You have a low chance of surviving. This target-”

“-Is none of your concern, Tech.” You finished the sentence for him, as calmly as you could. Your voice, it was... cold. There is no attachment, you reminded yourself, only the Force.

Your Jedi vows crumbled when he gloved hand had lightly pressed into yours. “General,” His tone dropped lower. “We cannot let you do it alone. I- I cannot.” His jaw tightened in resolve. By the universe and its stars, his heart was beating, rapidly, revealing every confession it had been eager to hide. Yet, only fear brought it out.

Smiling sadly, you had turned to him. “I’m aware of that, Tech.” You hesitated. “I’ll call you if I need anything.” You pressed your robe into his hand that had briefly been in yours. You hesitated, then pressed the cylinder of your shorter saber into his fingers, the metal cool through his glove.

“My weapon is my life.” You said, your fingers brushing on his. “I’ll return for that.” You started out but, like a puppy, he began to follow, open mouthed, hand still offering the weapon. You turned, eyed stinging for a moment. “Good soldiers follow orders, Tech."

The clone's brows creased, filling in hurt, but he nodded. "Yes, General." He said softly. Tech looked down at the lightsaber, squeezing it softly, glancing up to respond, say something, beg her to reconsider going solo.

But you had already been gone, and you were alone on the treacherous plains of Korriban. The planet had marinated in the dark side since the Sith Wars, and you could still feel remnants of evil and pain. You moved on the rocky terrain, hood pulled up to offer some solace from the wind.

Sith acolytes were the bane of the Jedi's exsistance. They would run out, strike at a jedi, and run away. The Dark Side, you recalled from your early lessons, were a doorway to fear and pain. And passions and attachments lead to that.

Your heavy heart tried to release your men, your attachment and unique love for each of them. Tech's hurt had wounded you especially. You could have told him, embraced him, told him you would survive on love and come back to the ship for him.

But instead, you sat down, and crossed your legs, and waited.

___

A disturbance in the force tugged you out of your meditation. You stood, reaching for both your sabers, but then recalled you had given your short one to Tech.

My weapon is my life.

The irony was not lost on you. Your life, in the hands of a man you wouldn't see again, and yet you were pacified, knowing that, perhaps. He would understand your cryptic Jedi way of saying you had a deep attachment to him.

You placed your hand on your saber and held it out to your side, tugging the hood of your shirt off your head and standing.

Ahead of you, the wind picked up, and sand from rocks kicked up in an angry storm. In it, you knew, was the acolyte, and you stood your ground. If this was your death you would die as a Jedi. There was no passion, only peace.

The acolyte emerged from the dust, saber already ignited. "Jedi," He snarled through the wind. The twi'lek's skin had pallored yellow, the color of illness. "You have come to grant me the rank of Sith Apprentice."

"And I have come to see if the Light can call to you." You exhaled, smoothing your thumb over the hilt of your blade.

The twi'lek's irridescent eyes narrowed, sharp teeth bared. "Then you shall die."

You flicked on your blade, widening your stance, ready for death as it charged you head-on.

___

Tech ran.

He had scouted from the cliffs of Korriban, scouting for the General, Hunter leading him. Hunter had frozen, head turning. "The Force," he had said softly. "It's here."

Tech was thankful yet again for Hunter's tracking abilities. His higher senses could hear the hum of the force, perhaps hear the clash of sabers. "Thank you, Sargent. The temple cannot be far."

Hunter nodded, hesitating. "You sure you're good on your own?"

"I am." Tech nodded, tugging his visor down, the click of latches filled in determination. "You take the others and destroy the old sith temple. I can't leave her on her own."

Hunter smiled softly, gently tapping Tech's bicep armor with his hand. "Go get a sith."

He intended to.

Tech yanked out his blaster, just one of the pistols, and aimed carefully. He didn't want to shoot unless the general needed help- you could handle yourself, but just in case, he had to be here, waiting, to make sure you were safe.

___

You retreated from the acolyte, calling on the force to give you a second wind. The acolyte was starting to wear down, but he was channeling his hanger into every swing. It was hard to remember how to fight with one saber, especially since you were so used to having dual sabers.

You felt a disturbance.

Fear. It thickened the air, swam in it, sabotaged your senses. The acolyte only radiated anger, which could only mean-

You whipped around. The trooper, Tech, stationed at a distance, but his gun steady.

Tech.

Your gaze flicked back to the acolyte, whose gaze had followed yours. The twi'lek smirked, golden eyes pallor in ideas, ideas you didn't like. "You fear for him. It smells delicious."

You ran after the acolyte, who was making a sprint for Tech. "Run! Tech!" You yelled, powering your energy into your legs. Your muscles screamed for mercy, knees buckling under the effort after the long time fighting, but you pushed on. The sticky scent of fear embalmed you, to your very core.

Tech stood, blaster still steady, and braced for impact.

You only saw the acolyte jump, a predator, and land on Tech. One hand reached up and grasped his, keeping the saber away.

The Force failed to reach you. You had called as much as you could into your body for second, third, fifth winds of energy. You crumpled, body aflame. "Tech," you wheeze, throwing out an arm to try and weild the force.

When you glanced back up, Tech was still pushing, but with the one hand. His arm was shaking with effort, and his face under his helmet was contortions.

I have failed him.

Your body shook, coursing against your every begging and demanding thiught to move, do something, anything. Your leg cramped and you groaned, eyes staying on the two men wrestling.

A beam ignited and peirced through the acolyte's back. He froze, body rising, and freezing, then a hiss escaped him and the acolyte crumbled.

Tech disarmed the short saber and dropped it, body relaxing, splaying against the rough surface of the planet.

You jumped to your feet and staggered over, his name forming on your lips, praying. "Tech, are you okay?" You dropped down again, knees shattering under the impact, and you tugged at his helmet.

Tech reached up and removed the helmet, face beaded with sweat, breathing finally slowing. "I'm glad you're alright, general."

You reached down and picked up the short saber resting by him. "Why?" Your voice was hoarse.

Tech cracked a half smile, his gloved hand reaching up to slowly cover yours. "My weapon is my life." He murmured gently, scooting up to sit. "And I wanted to ensure-"

You moved forward, fingers on the saber interlocking with his, and your other hand supporting his head as you pressed your lips to his. Tech, being Tech, mumbled a few more words before fully realizing the kiss was real and he squeezed your fingers, his other hand supporting him leaning off the ground.

In that moment, the storm quelled. There was peace. But your heart burned and your body ached for him, the forbidden touch of his hands. Passiom coincided, danced with and flirted with, the ever present quiescence in your spirit.

He sighed tenderly, breaking the embrace to inhale. He released the lightsaber, head rolling back to fully look at you. "Your weapon saved me today."

"I think you mean you saved me today." You chuckled, hand smoothing over his plasyoid pectoral plate. "You came for me."

Tech shook his head, smiling softly, short curls soft as you ran your fingers in his hair gently. "I'll always come for you. And I suppose I'm not a good soldier."

You laughed and moved to stand, tucking your short saber onto your belt. "Because you kissed your general?"

He smiled sheepishly, reaching up to accept your offered hand of help. "And I didn't follow orders. Which are indirectly to not kiss you as well, so... double whammy, as Wrecker would say."

You laughed, shaking your head softly, looking down as he slid both his gloved hands into yours. The cool body glove slid over your calluses, memorized your wrinkles and scrapes, each one holding a reflex of wielding your lightsaber. "My weapon is not my life, General. When the war is gone and done, I will not have my blasters." He paused, eyes admiring your fingers, dwelling together in joy.

You tugged his hand up, softly kissing where the gloved knuckle met armor. "And I will put up my jedi code. My weapon is not my life, Tech, you are."

He grinned, eyes skimming your grimy and exhausted face in wonder, joy, bewilderment- emotions he did not often display. "I was going to say the same abiut you, General. You are my life, and when the war is done, you will be my all."

[babyboy-cody]

THAT LAST CONCEPT WAS SO GOOD BUT NOW WE NEED AFTERCARE WITH GRAYSON PLS PLS PLS

ask and you shall receive, my darling ✨ part one is here :)

When Grayson entered the room with two cold drinks in his hands, he couldn’t help but ‘awww’ softly at the sight in front of him. Sprawled across the bed in the same position he left you - legs still wide and hair a tangled mess - you were sound asleep. One of your arms was wrapped around his pillow, your lips parted as soft snores escaped them. His cum that was leaking out of you had quickly dried on the bed. He knew that you would get fussy and cranky if he had to wake you up and make you stand while he changed the sheets. And so, as he quietly made his way over to you and placed the beverages on the nightstand, he couldn’t help but to admire you, his pretty girl. Your eyes twitched underneath your eyes and every snore that escaped made your nostrils barely flare. That always made Grayson tease you and you would always nudge him and jokingly tell him to stop bullying you.

“Angel,” he whispers, sliding a cold hand up and down your warm back, gently coaxing you from your tiny nap. When your eyes barely open and a soft hum sounds, he smiles and pulls a few hairs away from your mouth and eyes. “Hi there.”

“Hi,” you sluggishly mumble, spreading your arms out and doing a little stretch that made your entire body shiver and a muffled “hghnnngghhhh” coming from you. Grayson laughs quietly and hands you your water. The condensation was still chilled and it felt so good on your hands as he helps you take sip after sip. “This is so good,” you groaned against your cup, eagerly drinking some more of the cold liquid.

“Not too fast,” Grayson laughs and pulls the cup away when it’s half empty. “Don’t want you to choke.”

“I’ve literally choked and gagged on your dick and also almost passed out from you choking me with that baseball glove you call a hand, and you’re the one worried that I’ll choke on water,” you giggled at the shocked look on his face.

“Fuck off,” he laughs as well, shaking his head and sucking his teeth. He gets up from his spot and makes his way to the bathroom like he did a few minutes prior. This time, he grabs a clean cloth and soaks it in lukewarm water and grabs a bottle of your favorite lotion. “Oh shit! Go pee, right now.”

“Help,” you whined and lift your arms up for him to carry you. “My legs still feel like jelly.”

“I wonder why,” Grayson jokingly says, laughing at the annoyed expression on your face as you give him a lighthearted glare. When you get up too fast, almost doubling over, he immediately grabs you by the arms and carries you bridal style to the bathroom. “How romantic is this?”

“I know right,” you sarcastically say as you take a seat on the toilet. “My freaky deaky boyfriend carrying me to the bathroom, like the gentleman he is, so that I won’t get a UTI. Talk about romance.”

Grayson snorts and stares at you with a loving expression. He had a goofy smile on his face, arms crossed over his chest with his butt leaning against the counter. He has a slight blush on his tan cheeks when you catch him looking.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you softly tell him and finish doing your business after using the warm and damp washcloth he grabbed for you to gently clean yourself off.

“I can’t help it,” he tells you, voice showcasing a tenderness you hear during times like this - when it’s just you two in your own private bubble. “I’m just madly in love with you. I just never felt like this before. I mean, I have fallen in love, but nothing ever to this point - if that makes sense. Like.. every single day, you make me feel like I’m fucking flying over the clouds.”

You slowly get up and carefully make your way to him, not caring how numb and tingly your legs are or if your hips and lower back are aching. Standing in front of him at this very moment made you feel like you could tap dance. Pressing your still bare chest against his, feeling that skin to skin contact, feeling that warmth of just him, you now understood what he was saying.

“You make me feel like I’m flying too, baby,” you so quietly say to him, fingernails gently scratching up and down his biceps as his arms wrap around you. “You make me feel like I’m going through space and back.”

“Yeah?” He questions, eyes now full of adoration. “How many times, huh?”

“So many times,” you squeal as he lifts you up with that strength that always surprised you for some reason. You knew how much he worked out, but seeing and feeling him using that strength was unlike no other.

You felt yourself being plopped back down onto the bed, giggling as though you were drunk off of the pure love Grayson was radiating. His energy bounced onto yours almost immediately and it was borderline overwhelming, but also so comfortable. After he lays a towel on the dry spot on the bedding, he takes a seat behind you with a comb in his hand. As he combs your hair, you’re grateful at the slow pace he’s going. He snags a few knots here and there, frantically apologizing and giving your neck and shoulders tender kisses to make up for the slight pain in your scalp. When your hair is all knotted out, he instructs you to pull your hair over one of your shoulders.

“This might be cold, sweet girl,” he warns you before rubbing his lotioned hands all around your back. He gently massages all the kinks in your shoulders, causing you to moan softly as he relieves the pressure. You barely wince when he presses a little harder on a tender spot. The lotion immediately warmed up from Grayson’s hands, the entirety feeling so good. “How’re you feeling, baby?”

“Really good,” you whisper, now on the verge of sleep as you slowly become drowsy. “‘m getting so sleepy.”

“Wanna go to sleep?” He quietly asks you, hands now smoothing down your arms as he tucks his face into your neck, kissing you gently between your earlobe and jaw. When you barely nod, he slowly pulls you back against the pillows. “Okay angel, we can go to sleep.”

He removes his sweatpants so that he’s now fully naked as well. Skin to skin contact always felt so intimate, and Grayson realized that a while ago. He had never done it before, so when you brought it to him as an idea, he was a little iffy and nervous. But then he got into the field of it, loving the way your body perfectly molds against his without any clothing barriers. Or how soft and supple your body. Or how protected he feels just by feeling your skin against his. When he shuts off the light and lays beside you, now tucked under the covers, he hums quietly when you wrap an arm around him and tuck your head under his chin.

“I love you, pretty girl,” he whispers against your forehead, arms wrapping tight around you, not wanting you to move away from him out of fear that you might fall.. or maybe because he just doesn’t want you so far away.

“I love you more, handsome man,” you whisper back to him, placing a small kiss on his chest and smiling when you felt the vibrations of his quiet laugh.

[dreamerstreamer]

Sugar & Spice

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: The holidays are here! What better way is there to end the year than with Clay and some cookies?

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: happy holidays, folks! due to popular demand, this year’s holiday special is written for dream. i hope you all sincerely enjoy and have a wonderful day!

You peered down at the bowl in front of you, your eyes narrowing. Needs more... yellow.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you reached across the counter for a small bottle, quickly unscrewing the cap. Holding it over the bowl, you gently squeezed until a single drop fell atop the fluffy frosting sitting in the center. Your lips quirked upward, a twang of satisfaction running through you.

You hummed as picked up the bowl with one hand and grabbed a wooden spoon with the other. Sticking the spoon in, you began to stir, watching with hopeful eyes as the frosting’s hue slowly began to shift ever so slightly. A few moments later, your arm stilled, pride swelling in your chest at the perfect shade of lime green that stared back at you.

“There we go.”

All of a sudden, a beep filled the air, and you startled. Realization quickly washed over you, and your shoulders sank. The oven’s done preheating, you thought to yourself with a flicker of joy.

Flipping around, you slid the bowl across the counter toward the other bowl of frosting you had already made, then turned on your heel. You reached for the oven mitts hanging on the cabinet door, slipping them on with a grin as your fingers fit perfectly inside. You were about to focus your attention on the silver tray of dough you had laid out earlier when a dash of brown caught your attention. You whirled, your gaze landing on a familiar, furry face who was about six inches too close to your precious icing.

“Patches,” you said slowly, eyeing the paw she had raised over the bowl’s middle, “if you’re about to do what I think you’re going to do, don’t.”

She froze at the sound of your voice, her movements coming to a halt as you inched closer toward her.

“Seriously, Patches. You’ll get sick.”

She blinked at you, her big, green eyes scanning your face as her whiskers twitched. You held your breath as you stared back, your fingers crossing behind your back.

Her tail flicked once—twice.

Then she lowered her paw.

You nearly sank to the ground in relief, quickly leaning over to snatch the bowl away and clutch it to your chest. “Thank goodness,” you mumbled to yourself, your eyes squeezing shut. “I thought I was going to have to sta—“

“Hi.”

You yelped, leaping with a start as you whipped around, your fingers curling around the edge of the bowl. On the other side of the kitchen island stood Clay, his hand scratching behind Patches’ ear as she nuzzled up into his touch. As soon as your eyes landed on him, you let out a deep breath, your hand resting atop your pounding heart.

“Holy crap,” you breathed, sending him a shaky smile as you straightened, “you scared me.”

He flashed you a crooked grin, pulling his hand away from Patches. The moment he did, she leapt off the counter, scampering away down the hall. “Sorry. I just I finished streaming and wanted to come see what you were up to.” His eyes darted to the mitts on your hands then the counter behind you. “What are you baking?”

Your lips curled up into a small smile as you placed the bowl of frosting down next to you, quickly grabbing the tray of dough you had made earlier. “Gingerbread cookies!” You sent him a wink. “But with a twist.”

He took a step toward you, blinking down at the array of squares and circles littering the platter before his eyes caught on a particular shape. “Is that... my YouTube profile picture?”

Your eyes curved into tiny crescents. “Yeah! Aren’t they cute?”

He bobbed his head, his emerald gaze crinkling at the corners. “Very.”

You walked toward the oven, pulling it open with a gloved hand. “I have all the icing ready to go for after it’s done baking,” you said, careful not to burn yourself as you slid the tray inside, “and I even got some fondant for your eyes and smile.” You pouted as you pushed the door closed. “I was going to use black licorice, but I figured it might not taste as good.”

While you pressed a few buttons on the stovetop, Clay leaned against the counter, dipping a finger into the bowl of frosting before bringing it back to his lips. He eyed his finger curiously for a moment, then flicked his tongue out to lap up the white cream. He tilted his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he swallowed. “Mm, sweet. You sure put a lot of thought into this, didn’t you?”

You walked over to him, leaning over to tap his nose with your clean finger. “It’s a special time of year. It’d just be sad if I didn’t put in at least a little extra effort.”

The smile he sent you was absolutely dazzling, and you could have sworn you felt your head spin at the sight. “Well,” he said, “you went the extra mile, so I think you’ve done more than enough.”

Pulling the oven mitts off, you hung them back on the cabinet, eyeing the bowls of frosting. “I still have to wait for them to bake,” you began, counting in your fingers, “decorate, then clean, but after all that, then I’ll be finished.”

Clay’s hand slid over the counter toward you. “Can I help?” His gaze averted from yours, something akin to embarrassment flickering within. “I-I’m not an artist or anything, bu—“

You put your hand on top of his. “Yes,” you said without missing a beat. “Absolutely. Of course, you can.” A wicked grin flashed across your face. “If you also help me clean.”

His expression mirrored your sly one. “Like I would let you do it alone, anyways.” He wrinkled his nose. “Just don’t send any pictures of the cookies I decorate to George or Sap, though.” He nearly shivered at the idea. “They’ll definitely clown me.”

You laughed at the thought of the inevitable string of mocking messages he would be sure to receive, a wave of affection surging through you. His stare was fond as he added, “How long do we have to wait?”

Your eyes glanced at the timer on the oven. “Like ten, fifteen minutes, tops. It won’t be that long.”

He pushed off from the counter, standing up straight. “What do you wanna do for fifteen minutes, then?”

You hummed, pursing your lips for a moment before your face lit up. “Cuddles?”

He blinked at you once, then chuckled. “Cuddling, it is, then.”

You let out a small victory cry, missing the way his eyes softened. You turned on your feet, gesturing to your backside. “Help me take off my apron?”

He padded up to you with a hum, his hands reaching over to grasp at the fabric securing the apron around your waist. His fingers were warm against the small of your back, and with a few tugs, the knot unraveled in an whirl. You easily slipped the apron off your shoulders and around your head, flashing Clay another grin as you placed it atop the counter. “Thank you.”

When he returned your thanks with a soft, “You’re welcome,” you turned on your heel for the living room. You had made it about five feet when a warm hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist, stopping you in place.

You paused, turning to look at Clay over your shoulder. “Clay?” you murmured.

He raised his eyebrows at you, his smile curling into a smirk as he pointed above the two of you. “Would you look at that.”

You glanced up, and you felt your throat tighten.

Of course. Mistletoe.

You had nearly forgotten he had hung it up the day before, mischief dancing across his face as you rolled your eyes at him. Shaking your head, you couldn’t stop the lovestruck smile from spreading across your face as you lowered your head, your gaze locking onto his. He was a dork, but he was your dork, and that was all that mattered.

In an instant, his arms were around your waist, pulling you toward him until your chests were flush against one another. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning up to press your lips to his. He grinned into the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and you made a small noise that only made him smile harder. You ran a hand through his hair, digging your fingers into the base of his locks. He tasted sweet like sugar, and you could have sworn you could taste the frosting he had licked just a few minutes prior.

You parted with a gasp, his forehead leaning against yours as the two of your calmed your beating hearts, his hot breath fanning over your face. His lips were rosy and swollen, his hair disheveled this way and that. You were sure you looked just as messy, if not more, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Instead, you simply smiled at him.

“Happy now, lover boy?” you quipped. When he nodded, looking like a lovesick puppy, you tugged at his arm with a laugh. “Alright, let’s go cuddle, now.”

You pulled him toward the living room with ease with a bounce in your step, lunging for the couch. With a small cry of victory, you tumbled into the couch cushions, Clay following right after you. The moment he sat down, you flipped over, snuggling into his side as he slung his arm around you.

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, your hearts beating in sync with one another as you simply basked in each other’s presences. You were practically drowning in his warm touch and the steadily growing scent of gingerbread.

Rolling over slightly, you traced a finger over the vein in his arm, murmuring softly, “This year’s been kind of wild, hasn’t it?”

You could practically feel him roll his eyes beside you as a chuckle flew from his lips. “Don’t even get me started. I could spend ages talking about how crazy everything’s been.”

You shifted in his arms, your eyes scanning his face. Something in your chest felt hazy as your gaze traced over the curve of his cheek and the slope of his nose.

“But not all of it has been bad, you know?” you murmured, reaching a hand up to his cheek. As your skin met his, he leaned into your touch, your thumb tracing over the myriad of freckles dusting his face. “You’ve done a lot of crazy cool stuff. Look at how much your channel’s grown—how much you’ve grown. You even won a Streamy award.”

His cheeks flushed, and he buried his face into your hand, his lips pressing against your palm as his voice came out slightly muffled. “You give me too much credit.”

You lowered your hand and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “You deserve all of it and more,” you whispered, just for him to hear. “You’re more amazing than you know. You made your dream come true.” Your gaze was sincere as you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, feeling him shiver beneath you. “Little Clay would be so proud.”

As you pulled away from him, you took in the sight of his rosy cheeks and viridian eyes, his lips parted in awe as he simply stared at you. You felt your face grow hot underneath his gaze, and you lowered your eyes to your lap, clasping your hands together. Even just his stare made you so flustered—was it even possible to be so deeply affected by one person?

After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke. “How did I get so lucky?”

You lifted your chin, tilting your head at him as your eyebrows knit together. “Well, you did spend literal months studying the YouTube algorithm, and you’re still constantly working on videos,” you pointed out. “Plus, you stream, so I wouldn’t necessarily call all that just lu—“

He shook his head, smiling. “No, no.” He looked at you dead on, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “I mean, how did I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “What?”

He reached over, slipping your hand into his as he intertwined your fingers together. “You’re not something I can study for,” he murmured into your ear, his voice wrapping around you like a cozy blanket, “or some plug-in that I can code.” Something warm and gooey melted in your stomach. “You’re just you, through and through, and by some miracle, you’re sitting here with me.”

Your face practically burst into flames, and you most definitely felt yourself starting to turn to putty. You wanted to hide your face in your hand, but he was holding it, so all you could manage was a shy whine. You barely managed to catch a glimpse of his cocky grin before you turned, burying your face in his neck.

“Clay,” you whispered, hoping he wouldn’t notice just how hard your heart was beating, “you are so embarrassing.”

You could hear his smile as he spoke, squeezing your hand. “You love me for it.”

You couldn’t stop a smile of your own from stretching across your face as you squeezed back. “Yeah, I do.”

Slowly, he untangled your hands and wrapped his arms around you, tugging you closer to his chest as you sank into him. You couldn’t think of a better way to spend the holidays, all cuddled and cozied up in Clay’s warm embrace with gingerbread cookies baking in the back. As you drank in his cologne and felt his heartbeat ringing in your ears like a familiar melody, you only had one thing on your mind.

You loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

Just then, there was a deafening crash and the unmistakable clattering of bowls.

You froze in Clay’s arms, your eyes shooting wide open as his hold went slack around you.

There was a beat of silence, followed by a meow.

Your jaw dropped.

Oh my god.

You didn’t allow yourself any time to think before you scrambled off the couch, nearly tripling over your own feet as you raced toward the kitchen, Clay’s voice calling out after you.

“[Y/N]! What’s going on?”

For a few moments, there was only the sound of heavy panting. Then came a loud wail.

“Patches!”

It was far from a perfect holiday, to say the least, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.