#one more day and it’s Friday and there’s another episode

[starryluminary]

It’s almost buddy daddies Friday it’s almost buddy daddies Friday it’s almost buddy daddies Friday it’s almost

[soft4gguk]

yearning | jjk one shot

the one that finds you in Jungkook's doorstep after a night out...

Description: idol!jungkook x reader, fwb 

Content: porn with loads of plot!

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: oc smokes 1 cigarette lol, they’re so flirty ouch, so much kissing, cutest little dynamic, dry humping (a personal fave in this house), fingering, protected sex (they’re so smart!!), loads of spanking, jaykay ass man forever. 

Author’s Note: i once sworn to never write idol aus because… i know nothing about this man ok? i do not claim to know what he’s like in a relationship or a situationship or in his personal life!! so please thread carefully when reading <3333 that being said, his lives last year and these first couple of episodes of “are you sure?” have me feeling very delulu so here u go!! hope you enjoy xo

★ masterlist ★

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

The moment you exit the club, a gust of summer breeze engulfs you. It makes you wrap your arms around your body, but it amounts to nothing, the little black dress that you’d made the executive decision to wear, in the name of fashion, betraying you. The tequila shots you'd downed before leaving the house sure had deceived your senses, too.

Needless to say, you regret said decision, a shiver running down your spine all the way to your legs, making you jump a little in place as you tipsily look around you. You’d cut the night short. Your friends had found another lonely pair they’d quickly gotten cozy with, leaving you to drink one too many gin & tonics all by yourself. You hadn’t minded it for the first two hours, enjoying the music, sparking conversation with the bartender from time to time and entertaining the occasional stranger. Eventually though, it became boring, predictable, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel a little shitty about yourself. 

It was all getting repetitive. Friday nights, the same faces, small talk, ice breakers. Even the strangers you met had a similar M.O., making it all seem predictable. It made it feel like a waste of self, more than a waste of time, and it ate at you in moments like these, where it was strange to feel lonely amongst a sea of people, unable to shake the feeling.

The bright city lights illuminate the night, lacing it with something livelier than your mood and you smile. At least the scenery is always pretty. Pretty places. You hear the laughter of a group of people that stand a couple of feet away from you, they seem happy in that genuine way that reflects in pure, unadulterated beauty. Pretty people. 

You think of him. 

It’s rather instant. Or perhaps instinctive. The very own butterfly effect of your thoughts because to you, he’s the prettiest of them all. He’d been since the very first day, and as you lose focus of the pretty sights the more you stare into the city lights with him on your mind, you can’t help but think nothing will ever stand close. 

A girl stands next to you, audibly shivering as she exits the club and the air greets her with the same fate it did you. She holds a cigarette between her red lips, the fire from her pink lighter shining on her red hair. It makes you crave one, too, rummaging through your bag for your own. You smile when you remember how he would tease you for smoking “the skinny kind” as he would call them. Calling you a bit of a snob, but all in lighthearted nature. After all, he could. He knew you enough to let your closeness turn into inside jokes, banter. 

Perhaps giving into a vice could prevent you from falling into another. 

“Can I borrow your lighter?” she smiles at you before she’s handing it over. Her nails are pink, too. 

The fire feels pleasant for all of five seconds, warm against your face as you take the first drag. You give into one instinct so as to distract yourself from the one that’s tugging at your heart and senses, begging you to make a reckless call. 

You check the time. 

2:32 A.M.

~

Jungkook scrolls through the endless list of channels aimlessly. Small snippets from whatever’s playing that he cuts short, not really giving it much thought. He settles on one, solely so he can stop putting exertion on his thumb and go back to leaning against his couch – fully relaxed. He sighs. On the screen, some drama he hasn’t gotten around to watching plays, and the story seems to be developing quickly. He doesn’t care for it, if he’s honest, simply content with the white noise it fills the room with. 

Bam leaves his dog house, standing right in front of him and they seem to start an unspoken staring contest. He smiles, patting the spot right next to him on the couch and the pup rushes to take the place excitedly. He gets cuddles and kisses simply for existing. For keeping him company – his presence giving Jungkook more peace than he’ll ever know. 

“Hey, Bam, should we, like, meet up in our next life as well? Perhaps I’ll be the dog in that one and you’ll be my owner.”

Bam simply stares and Jungkook swears if he could, he’d let out a deep sigh right now. This makes him laugh. 

“Hey, don’t be jumping of excitement at the idea, man.”

At this, he attacks. With kisses, that is – wet, sloppy kisses that have Jungkook giggling and pushing back, though it is no use, his dog is that determined to give him love.

“Alright, you win. Let’s go get a beer. For me, not for you. You’re still too young. One day, son.” His voice takes on a lower tone, imitating his father. Or maybe Yoongi’s, he can’t tell anymore. 

He retrieves a cold beer mug from his freezer and cracks the can open, nodding his head at the sound it makes, the fizziness bubbling up before he pours it in the cold glass. He takes a sip as he walks back to the couch, blissed out in leisure.

He doesn’t mind being alone, specially not on nights like this when sleep leaves him and everything but seems more tempting. He likes the way everything slows down at this time of day, the ease of it all. No one to see, no texts to reply to. As for what the world is concerned for, he’s asleep. It’s peaceful, just being. 

Plopping down on the couch, he rests against the pillows, making himself comfortable. He must��ve spoken too soon, he thinks, because it’s not thirty seconds after this that his phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of him. He ponders on the possibility of simply ignoring it, let it sit there, facing down. But something tells him he should check the message. It could be important, or not. The pull isn’t necessarily violent, just a quiet voice that tells him so, like a little nudge. He leans forward, setting his beer on the table before he’s taking a hold of his phone. 

He gets it now – the pull. 

From ___: jungkookie, u awake?

To ___: no

From ___: can I call?

He smiles – so fucking big he almost hates that he does, slightly flustered and embarrassed you have this quick of an effect on him. And before he can talk himself out of it, he calls you. 

~

Seeing his name flash on your phone screen does more to you than anything you’ve deemed exhilarating tonight. The simple prospect of hearing his voice rushes more excitement through your body than any of the mindless conversations you had this evening. Than any of the conversations you’ve had all week perhaps. You smile and there’s no doubt that he can hear it in your voice when you say,

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s a moment of silence and you can hear the smile on his face, too. It’s warmth – he’s warmth, even far. How far is he, you wonder. Did you happen to demand of him at a bad time? Will the end of this call find you disappointed?

You cut to the chase. 

“What are you up to?”

There’s a pause and you can hear the way he sinks into his couch. “Can’t sleep so I’m having a beer and watching some TV with Bamie.”

He’s home and a giddy giggle escapes you. “Ahh,” you say.

“You? It sounds busy in there.”

“Yeah, I’m outside the club.”

“Fun night?”

“No.” You don’t lie, you never lie to him. Don’t have the need to, or the want to. Everything about Jungkook is comfort – the kind that welcomes. 

“Yeah, had a feeling. It’s not really your scene, is it?”

Your head leans to the side, eyes closing for a moment. He knows you in ways most people don’t, and it’s a simple remark but it gets to you. The fact that he doesn’t see you for the parts of you that feel the emptiest settles on your heart. It’s good, you think, to be seen by someone who observes.

“I want to see you.” There’s all the point in the world to be honest right now. 

“Come over. I’ll make you ramen.”

“Will you show me your cat?”

There’s a pause. You picture him smiling, biting his lip, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, that too.”

~

You sway from side to side, a little drunkenly and a whole lot excited, as you stand in front of his door. It’s brief, but as you wait you make a little reflection on your emotions. What exactly do you feel right now? It’s been so long – probably not that long – but long enough to make you happier than usual to be seeing his face. Anyone else would make you nervous, and perhaps he does, too, if only a little. But it’s a different kind of nervous. It’s laced with sweetness, as opposed to anxiety. And the minute he opens his front door, it’s replaced by something sweeter. 

Yearning. 

He stands there, glasses and black sweatpants on, signature oversized shirt – something so very home about him. Your eyes widen as you take in his hair, it’s grown significantly, giving you a rough idea of when it was you last saw him. Two, three months ago. He looks good; rested, fresh, beautiful. You can smell him before you even touch him and it makes you smile. He returns it. 

Yeah – yearning. 

“I like your hair,” you say, because anything else would give you away. 

“Yeah?” he runs a hand through it. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.” Let it give you away, you think. Who cares?

“Alright, well- it was nice seeing you.” He says, closing the door in a too casual, yet dramatic manner and you laugh, simply standing there – a little flustered because, oh does it feel good when Jeon Jungkook flirts with you in that boyish, teasing way only he knows how. 

He doesn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he leaves it open far enough for you to see the way he peeks his head out, nose scrunch and toothy smile to signal just how proud he is of himself right now. 

“Come here,” he tells you, reaching his hand out from the little gap and pulling you closer as you yelp, squeezing through the nearly closed door. “I missed you.”

You’re in his arms again, and the moment he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that says I missed you because you know him well enough by now to understand the things he says with his lips, and his eyes. With his hands, too.

“Mm,-“ you don’t want to pull back to get your words out, so you don’t. “Me more.”

Jungkook was always a happy coincidence – or at least that’s what you told yourself in a futile attempt to tame the feelings down. But the truth was that being back in his arms felt like fate, in that gentle way that doesn’t come in a movie-like encounter or in some sort of catastrophe bringing you together. Just being here. Anywhere, with him, felt fateful. You opt to believe in angels right this second just to thank them. 

“How are you,” his hand cups your cheek, pecking your lips before you can answer. 

“Good- better now.” His kisses muffle your words and you think you could live with this interruption for the rest of your life. 

“Yeah, me too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he circles his around your middle. You take him in, not one for big displays of affection yet this one you could never deny, could never not welcome. 

It’s a sweet moment but the pull turns hasty soon enough the more your lips become familiar with one another yet again. You run your fingers through his long hair, rejoicing in its softness and length. His hand travels down, slowly but a bit desperately, squeezing when they meet your ass. 

What has a promising ending is cut short by none other than your rumbling stomach. It’s rather loudly and you both hear it, laughing in the middle of the kiss you two seem to refuse parting from. 

“You hungry, baby?”

“You promised ramen. And something about a cat.” Your lips part and you look at him, a pretty smile on his equally pretty face. 

“Mm, yeah. I did. I’m all stocked up on ramen but the cat…,”

“I prefer Bamie anyways.” 

You leave his arms, a smile on your face as you walk towards his beloved child’s crate. The moment he sees you, he hesitates for a moment, not yet having Jungkook’s command to leave his space but he’s excited – you can even make up his little tail wagging from side to side. 

“Come here, baby.”

He runs to you and nearly tackles you, settling into the floor to give him the proper cuddles he deserves. He steps on you the way he did when he was a puppy, sitting down on your knees as you scratch under his ears. 

“No one’s allowed to tell him he’s grown up. He’s little forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “He’s Jiminie’s height.” 

You sneer at him, shaking your head at his joke. He stands there, staring at you with a fondness he reserves for certain things that bring him that kind of comfort that’s gotten rarer over the years. He’s grown up, matured and gotten real about a lot of things but not you.

Never you. 

You’re still the innocence he kissed you with that very first time and the little bit of fear it wouldn’t go further than that. You’re the excitement he had when it did. You’re the flirty teasing and the falling in trust, opening himself little by little. You’re still something he once dreamt about – he still does. You’re the thing he has and doesn’t at the same time. You’re you. 

Your loud giggles as Bam licks your cheek wake him up from his little daydream and he winces at the sloppy kisses he’s leaving. You don’t seem to mind though and he knows that if it were up to you, you’d stay there til dawn. No ramen, no cat. 

“Alright, alright. Daddy’s getting jealous now. You can’t have her all to yourself.”

Your cheeky smile tells him you’re up to no good. “Daddy, huh? Have we ever tried that?”

“What haven’t we tried?” He genuinely ponders on his own question. 

“Pegging!” You say, a little too quickly and excitedly for his liking. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Mean.”

“Come on, let’s feed you.”

You smile. “Okay, daddy.”

~

It’s a chaos in the kitchen in between distracting kisses and your tipsy antics, munching on Jungkook’s leftover fried chicken as you scavenger hunt his cupboards for anything that could satisfy your alcohol induced need for sweets and carbs. You’d begged for pancakes, but he didn’t have any honey, and what’s pancakes without honey, really? 

“Ramen. Enoki and spring onions.” He says, convincing himself more than he convinces you.

“Okayyyyy. Ramen, enoki- what else did you say?”

His thumb and pointer finger rest at his temples in mock exasperation, making you giggle. “Hey, why don’t you go shower? This’ll be ready when you’re done.”

“Will you be able to work a knife with the thought of me all wet and naked in your shower?” 

“I’ll get you wet and naked later. Go sober up. Quick, quick!”

You laugh, kissing his cheek loudly and ruffling his hair before you leave the kitchen, making your way to his bedroom with familiarity - like you’ve done it hundreds of times and perhaps you have if you were to count. 

You know where he keeps the towels, that it’s the left tap that opens the hot water, the way his soap smells and what brand of shampoo he uses. His face wash and moisturizer are familiar to you because it’s the same brand you use. You’d left them here once and never got the bottles back. He began purchasing them after they ran out. 

You put on the same black Carhartt shirt you always do. It feels and smells the same. It makes you yearn and when you miss him, you smile in the comfort of knowing he’s in the kitchen, probably eating ramen from the pot as you take your sweet time in the bathroom. 

All clean and cozy, his house always being the perfect temperature with the add on warmth that swarms your insides at knowing you’re with him, you make your way back to the kitchen. He’s reaching for bowls, back to you and your voice startles him when you say,

“Don’t get dishes dirty, let’s eat from the pot.”

He turns to you, a boyish smile forming on his lips at the sight of you in his comfy, oversized shirt. He’s seen you in it more times than he can count but it still makes his insides tingle. Butterflies, dare he say, is what the sight gives him. 

“You sure?”

“Aren’t you? Afraid of exchanging saliva?” You poke your tongue at him and he grabs your wrist, pulling you swiftly towards him. 

“Not the funnest way we’ve exchanged juices, but it’ll do for now.”

“Juices.” Your nose scrunches at his words.

“Mm.”

He kisses you, ramen getting cold in the pot as your lips make him forget all about his hunger in the first place. Your stomach doesn’t, though. Interrupting your heated little moment yet again. 

“Feed me.”

“On your knees, then.” He teases, lips still on yours. 

“That sounds more like a treat than a threat.”

He smiles, passing you the chopsticks. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“With me. Yes. Just me.”

His words are selfish, of this much he’s aware. He knows exclusivity is too much to ask for. He knows the baggage he comes with and the hesitation that shines through your eyes whenever you find yourselves slipping into comfort and familiarity a little too much. How he can almost tell he’s about to go a season without you, just by this comfort alone. But he can’t help but want you, all to himself. He can’t help but say you’re his even if he’s just saying it. And when the smile on your lips meet your eyes in an almost nostalgic way, he knows you feel the same. 

“Yeah. I am.”

“I am with you, too.”

“I’d say I tried to talk myself out of texting you tonight, but I’d be lying.” Your chopsticks play with the noodles, eyes not meeting his. 

“Why would you talk yourself out of texting me?”

You shrug. 

“Don’t.” His voice is firm and your eyes finally look at his. “I’m always- I always want to see you, ___.”

“I know, it’s just- you know.” You say, and he does. He knows what you mean and he’s glad you don’t voice it because he doesn’t think he can bear the words that would only add insult to injury to the way your gaze falls, that spark threatening to dim its light.

“Yeah,” he gets closer, but it’s almost careful. His thumb caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch. “But you’re here now. I want you here now. Come back to me.”

You stare into his big eyes, smiling at him not because your heart isn’t breaking but because you wouldn’t dare break his with the reality of the situation. So you lie, but it holds truth. “I’m always with you.” 

As you two eat, in bursts of comfortable silences and mindless yet meaningful conversations, you start to get used to him again. You’re too tired to fight it, and when you welcome it, it’s sweet. 

~

The pot is empty, your bellies full. You lean against the counter as he puts you to date, catches you up on what his life has looked like for the past two months or so. Trips to L.A., New York, photoshoots, late nights in the recording studio, music videos, long flights and a Calvin Klein campaign you shamelessly admit to swoon over every time you pass by it. He asks about you and you keep your updates mostly work related. Long flights, long meetings, long days. Short bursts of inspiration and even shorter waves of motivation. You omit to tell him about the things you’re maybe not so proud of. The partying, the drinking on a wednesday night, the way your friends don’t feel like your friends anymore, more like acquaintances that keep you around when they deem convenient. You think his words could help, provide comfort and advice, but at the same time you fear the reality of the situation could burst the bubble of bliss you find yourself in right this moment. 

So you talk. You catch up. You play friends for a while, feel real mature when he shares snippets of his life that involve other people, other girls. People in his radar, his line of work, the love interest in his music video. Jungkook does, too. Feels like perhaps he’s come a long way when you tell him about trips you’ve taken with friends, new restaurants you’ve tried, galas he knows you haven’t attended alone. It’s all fine, it’s good. Total control of your feelings as you take each other in. 

Bam interrupts him mid-sentence, a sleepy whine in half protest he lets out as he walks inside the kitchen. 

“Aw, Jungkook,” you coo, “he’s sleepy.”

“Time for bed, Bamie?” He smiles, reaching down to scratch under his ears. “I’ll be right back.” 

“I’ll be here.” 

You smile, well aware that he keeps his dog bed in a cozy room in his house, quite literally puts him to bed every night. It makes you think about how good of a dad he’ll make one day, how much love is stored inside of him, how he likes to be needed and shows affection through acts of service. Your smile drops a bit, a feeling taking over you that you don’t like but have grown used to over the years. 

You snap out of it, busying yourself as you begin to tidy up the kitchen, sliding his pink rubber gloves over your hands before you start washing the single pot, knife and chopsticks he’d used to make you dinner. It doesn’t take him long to be back, though, walking back inside the kitchen and smiling at the sight before him. You hum a song he can’t make up, hips shimmying to the beat as you scrub the pot. Your shirt rides up a little and he cocks his head to the side, smiling at the way your underwear peeks from underneath the fabric. A black and lacy thong that has him nodding his head in boyish satisfaction. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells you, making you jump in place a bit at the sound of his voice.

You turn around, bringing a gloved finger to your lips as you shush him before you’re pointing it at the couch and shooing him away. “I’ll only be a second. Wait for me there.”

“‘Kay, boss.” He army salutes you, turning around and walking back to the couch, sitting down and sinking further into the cushions, legs spreading as he scrolls through his phone, a bit impatiently, missing you even though you’re so close. 

And to Jungkook’s great fortune, he doesn’t have to wait for much longer. Wrapping it up in the kitchen, you give it one last glance to make sure it’s back to its pristine state before you’re making your way towards him. He looks up at you, throwing his phone to the side and following you with his eyes, smiling when you’re in front of him.

“Thank you for dinner,” you say, voice sweet and low, eyes a bit hazy.

“Come here.” He takes your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as you throw your legs at either side of him, straddling him. 

“I needed this,” you admit.

“Me too,” he breathes. “I’m glad you called.”

You pout, eyes looking up for a second as you ponder. “You called me.”

He chuckles, not a single ounce of desire to deny you. “I’m glad I called.”

You giggle, arms wrapping around his neck and fingers getting lost in his long hair. His head draws back as your nails massage his scalp gently and he relaxes at your touch, goosebumps adorning his skin. His hands travel under your shirt, promptly finding your hips, waist, and then threatening to go higher but Jungkook wants to take his time tonight. He wants to stay in the sweet state of wanting you for a bit longer. When his eyes are back on yours, you kiss him. He sighs against your lips, bringing you closer to him by the waist, letting his tongue taste your bottom lip before he’s tasting your mouth. It’s slow, a bit sloppy and lazy, holds the quality of anything that happens in the middle of the night, when no one’s watching and time stills for the two of you. 

“Your skin is so soft,” he says, lips still on yours. 

“It’s your body lotion.” You roll your hips over his, smiling when you pull a low groan straight out of him. 

“Yeah,” he says, hands traveling down before he’s squeezing your ass, guiding your hips into his. “You smell like me. I like it.”

“I like it, too.” Your words get caught up in a moan as the outline of his cock parts your slit perfectly. 

You pull away a bit hesitantly, hands coming to rest at his shoulders as your hips pick up the pace. You go slow but sink deeper into him with every roll of your lips, eyes never parting from his as you take in the way his face starts to contort in pleasure, mouth parting slightly as his breathing grows heavier, little grunts leaving his lips with every push and pull. His hands travel back down to your hips, squeezing a little at the soft flesh, guiding them as you move over his cock. He’s so hard, can feel you through the layers, can bet on the fact that you’re wet and pulsing for him right now. 

“That feels good,” he sighs, gaze dropping as he rides your shirt up a bit at the front. His eyes fixate on the way the thin, lacy fabric of your panties bunches up every time you throw your hips back. 

“Brings back memories,” you say, voice a bit shaky when a particular roll of your hips has the tip of his cock hitting right against your clit. 

Jungkook smiles, mind hazy but perfectly able to picture the memories you refer to. “Mhm,” he sighs, so entrapped by the feeling he swears he can feel you pulse against him. He likes the way you consume his senses. The way everything around him stills and all he can think about is you. His hands squeeze at the flesh on your hips before he says, “turn around, baby.”

“‘Kay.”

Jungkook feels the loss of your warmth as you stand up before him once again, smiling at him before you’re turning around and sitting on his lap. You press your back to his chest, letting your head fall to his shoulder, your lips meeting his cheek in an open mouth kiss. His hands travel up your body, palms closing around your tits, thumbs playing with your nipples over the thick fabric of your shirt. You circle your hips, chasing the same friction from before but it’s not enough in this position. You bring your body forward, hands resting on his thighs as you throw your ass back at him, your pussy perfectly aligned on top of his cock, making you both moan at the same time. Jungkook’s gaze drops to your ass, enthralled by the way he feels, by the way you look. He rides your shirt up your back, exposes you to him and it only eggs you on, moving against his cock at the perfect rhythm. 

He hooks a finger down the side of your panties, letting it travel down, smiling lazily at the way you trap his knuckles between your pussy and his cock, moaning as you grind on them. He can feel how wet you are, dripping for him already even though he hasn’t touched you yet. “Want my fingers, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you plead, voice shaky as you look back at him. 

He’d usually tease you, make you beg for it a little longer, but tonight Jungkook obliges. It’s been long – too long – and all he can think about is being inside you, feeling you around him, making you feel good. He takes his time simply so he can savor the moment. So he can memorize it well enough to store it somewhere inside of him, just in case it’s another three months until he sees you again. 

He pushes his middle and ring finger inside of you, hissing at your warmth, cock jumping inside his sweatpants in anticipation and a little big of neglect. You close your eyes, pleasure taking over you as he begins to thrust his fingers inside of you slowly, arching expertly every time they hit your g-spot. His free hand squeezes around your ass cheek, groaning when the hand that fucks into you pushes down on his cock, aiding at giving him some much needed friction. You feel lightheaded already, all-consumed in his hold as he takes over your every sense. Your body relaxes and you can feel the way your tummy tenses right away. 

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum,” your voice is faint but he hears you well enough. 

“Already? That was fast, baby.” You don’t miss the cocky tone his words hint at. 

“Shut up and don’t stop,” you say, looking back at him playfully. 

You see the way he smiles at you before his gaze is dropping back down, fingers moving expertly inside of you at the same pace, applying a bit more force as he pushes in, massaging that spot with the tip of his fingers. The added pressure has you mewling in no time, nails digging into his thighs, teeth biting at your bottom lip to ground you back into the moment as you let go. 

“Fuck,” he says as he feels you cum around his fingers, sweet moans filling the space around you and he so badly wishes he could look at your face right now. “Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He feels the way you contract around him, hips circling over his hand as you ride the waves of pleasure. 

You come down after a minute, mind still hazy as you fall back into him, lips finding his the moment he turns his head to the side. You kiss him, breathing into his mouth, smiling in your fucked out bliss. “That was so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you say, pressing your forehead to his. “I need you to fuck me now.”

“Want it?” he asks, and you nod your head. “You can have it.” 

“Yeah, want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your voice is needy, holds a dreaminess to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss – one that makes him melt into your words, your touch, your lips as you kiss him again. 

Jungkook presses his hips into you, raising them a bit as he pushes his sweatpants down. You help him take them off, hand reaching back before you’re wrapping it around his cock. He’s hard and pulsing for you and if you weren’t pulsing for him, too, you’d probably want him in your mouth right this second. He feels heavy, big and thick in your hold, a grunt leaving his lips when your thumb circles around the head. You love how sensitive he is, how receptive. 

“Condom,” he says, before he runs out of blood in his brain and it all falls down to his cock. 

“In my bag,” you say, reaching to the side and pulling it towards you. You rummage around it for a second too long – a second that has Jungkook’s mind betraying him. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But nonetheless he can’t help but wonder where you’d be right now if he’d been asleep and hadn’t seen your text. Perhaps in the same position but with a stranger. Or maybe a stranger only to Jungkook. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only person you texted tonight. “Here you go, baby.” 

Your voice dismantles his worries and he’s warm again, all thoughts vanishing and it’s back to you and him. He leans forward, kissing your lips as he takes the condom from your hand. It makes you blush slightly, biting your lip in anticipation as you watch as he rips the foil of the packaging with his teeth. You watch the way he smirks as he rolls the condom on. 

“Why are you smiling?”

“Just thinking,” he says, smile growing wider, cheek dimples making him look cute but something about his voice begs to differ. 

You hum. “Thinking about what?”

He smiles. “July 14th, 2021.”

You both crack up, laughter filling the air the moment the words leave his mouth because of course you know what July 14th, 2021 meant. You’d been in a position very similar to this one, perhaps a bit more hazy minded, the true meaning of the heat of the moment finding you the minute you’d realized neither of you had a condom. You’d looked into each other’s eyes and made the silent agreement to be a little reckless and put a whole lot of trust on birth control and Jungkook’s pull out game. 

He said he’d never forget that day. 

“Long live, July 14th, 2021,” you say. 

“Shhh,” he says, squinting his eyes and bringing a finger to his mouth. “Don’t remind me.”

“You reminded yourself,” you bite back. “Now, can you fuck me? Pretty please.”

“Yeah, baby, come here.”

You push your ass back at him, looking at him from over your shoulder, biting your lip in anticipation as he strokes his cock once, twice, before he’s lining himself against your entrance. His hand comes to your hip, pulling you down towards him as you push him inside of you. You both sigh, moaning as he bottoms out, so deep and warm it has Jungkook throwing his head back against the couch, sinking further into it and pushing impossibly deeper into you. 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, nails digging into his flesh. 

“Fuck me, baby,” he says, running a hand through his long hair. You nod, circling your hips a couple of times as you adjust to his size before you start moving your hips into him, ass bouncing with every push and pull. He hisses at the sight alone, bringing his hand down as he delivers a hard slap against your cheek, making you moan. “Shit, just like that. You’re so hot, ___.”

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes are back on yours, threatening to close in pleasure at the way your pussy feels around him. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, baby. So much.”

You fall into his chest, kissing him as he wraps his hand around your throat, not applying any pressure, just simply holding you. You gasp into his mouth when his other hand travels down and finds your clit, drawing lazy circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You whine and he moans when you move your hips to the rhythm of his touch.

“I don’t wanna be on top anymore,” you say, pouting into his lips, frowning when you feel his chest shake in laughter. 

“Of course you don’t.”

“I’m an awful top.”

“You’re not a top.”

“Hey, I was a good top that one time,” you protest.

“Mm, yeah, that was hot. You got all bossy on me.”

“Oh, but that’s regardless,” you tell him, pushing your lips into his once more and straightening your back, smiling as you look back at him. He wipes said smile off your face in a second, hand meeting your ass in another hard slap. 

“Stay there,” he says, holding firmly onto your hips. 

“Okay, daddy.” That earns you another slap, though you can’t say it wasn’t exactly the goal in mind. 

“Behave.”

Your face grows pliant as you nod at him and Jungkook has to fight to keep up the front because if he’s being honest, the sight alone drives him crazy, threatens to break him down completely and leave him a needy, whiny mess. He holds you in place, legs raising you up a bit before he starts pistoling his hips against you, fucking you hard and fast and even though you saw it coming, it still takes you by surprise. The force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain translates into pleasure, the noises he makes – it’s all too much but fuck, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes closing as your face contorts in pleasure before the sensation ripples through you and you’re crying out. Your hand holds onto his arm and the firm grasp you have on it let’s him know.

“Fuck, I’m cummin,” you breathe out.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

“Oh my God,” you say, voice shaky and faint as you throw your body back into his. 

“Fuck, I love your pussy.”

“I love your cock,” you say, fucked out giggles escaping your lips. 

It takes you both a minute to steady your breathing and regain your strength. Jungkook kisses your neck, snaking a hand inside your shirt and squeezing your boob as you arch your back at the feel. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

“Music to my ears,” you say, giddy and excited. 

Your knees buckle a bit when your feet touch the floor, the both of you laughing at your loss of balance, Jungkook a bit more cockily than you. He slaps your ass softly once, then twice as you begin to walk towards his bedroom. Once inside he takes his shirt off and when you turn around, your eyes scan over his body, metaphorically and possibly physically drooling over him. Your hands find the hem of your t-shirt before you’re pulling it off your body and tossing it aside until it’s landing on top of his. Your tits bounce as you do, and he nods his head at you, a satisfied pout adorning his lips. The pout turns sour the moment you turn around but is soon enough replaced with a smile when you start to crawl on top of his big mattress, finding the perfect spot over his pillows and laying down comfortably. 

“You’re so perfect.” Jungkook says, because anything else would downplay it and he’s not in the mood to run away from the truth. You giggle, soft and sweet and he feels the way his heart aches for you inside his chest. 

“Come to me,” you say, arms outstretched towards him. He makes his way to you, letting himself hover over you for a minute as he takes you in before he’s falling perfectly between your legs. You kiss him, letting your fingers get lost in his hair, breathing into the kiss and you swear this moment is laced in pure, unadulterated bliss. “Want to feel you inside me.”

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”

There it is, yet again, and without a fail. It’s so common you nearly miss it – the way the moment turns tender. It’s mostly soft, this unspoken agreement you’ve fallen into with Jungkook. It’s friendship and attraction, good sex and years of exploring each other. It’s trust and communication. It’s understanding. It’s soft at the beginning and tender halfway through. It’s so tender it feels tangible, like the moment itself could fit inside the palm of your hand and feel ripe to the touch as you hold onto it. It’s tender when he looks into your eyes, it’s tender when his voice says your name, when you kiss his lips. It’s tender when the lust borders on something else. It’s tender when it lingers, when it threatens to fall. 

He fucks you, hips moving against yours slowly, pulling moans out of your lips that get caught between his own when he kisses you. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper into his mouth, words that only he could hear even if it weren’t just the two of you. 

“Fuck, baby, so do you,” he whines, supple and yours, even if for that moment. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You smile, hand running through his hair before your fingers are pushing a strand behind his hear. “Cum for me, Kookie. Wanna feel you cum for me.”

Your words throw him over the edge, falling blissfully into you. It feels so fucking good. Your fingers running through his hair, down his neck and then back up again. The way your pussy clenches around him, cock throbbing for you at the wake of his release. Your lips are soft and the rise and fall of your chest falls into perfect sync with his. His hand squeezes at your breast before it’s traveling down your body, squeezing at your thigh before you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, flushed to him. Every little thing you do heightens his senses until all he can breathe, think and feel is you. His face falls down the crook of your neck and you breathe out a moan into his ear, unraveling him completely.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” His hips slow down before they still completely, a moan passing his lips as he releases into the condom, your nails softly running down his spine. His body feels spent but he doesn’t miss the way it relaxes on top of you, blissful and peaceful, growing sleepy right away. 

“Feel good?” you ask, your fingertips running down his back in what feels like a feathery whisper. 

“So fucking good,” he mumbles against the skin of your shoulder before his eyes are finding yours again. He kisses you. He kisses you because in moments like this he wants to say something else, something that makes more sense to his heart than anything his brain could say.

You kiss him back, afraid your heart will betray you, too. 

~

You stare at him as you make your way back to his bed. He lays on his tummy, cheek pressed against the soft pillow, his pretty hair framing his face in a way that makes him look dreamlike. He doesn’t move an inch when you pull back the covers, if only for a second, to get back in bed with him. You lay on your side, eyes still fixed on him and your heart grows a new kind of tender at the sight of his sleeping form. He’s pouty and soft and so, so peaceful. Something sinks in your tummy, but it’s not in a way that signals bad news. Perhaps it’s the butterflies settling, perhaps the heat of the moment has began to cool down. 

Your hand comes to his face, fingers gently pushing his hair out of his eyes before you let them wander down his face. His cheeks are soft, his ears cold and when it tickles, he frowns. Your thumb travels up again, smoothing his brow bone and he relaxes. Your eyes follow your touch as you trace the bridge of his nose, slowly, softly, as if you were being quizzed on it later. Wanting to take everything in, afraid that even blinking could take away from the moment. And when your finger lands on his lips, you trace that too the way your own did only minutes prior. 

His eyes begin to flutter, a failed attempt to open them but you know he’s partially awake from the smile that pulls at his lips. You feel it on your finger before your eyes meet his gesture and when they do, you close them instinctively, leaning over and kissing him. His body can’t respond to his brain right now, exhausted and more asleep than he is awake, but he hums in satisfaction, lips puckering as he tries to give into his instincts. 

“Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll go buy honey and make you pancakes.” 

You smile, though he can’t see, and perhaps it’s for the best. Your voice is a whisper when you say, “deal.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

~

[thesparkling-diamond27]

Dancing Through Life

Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader

Summary: Y/n Upperland of the Upper Uplands, cousin to Galinda Upand, doesn’t have a problem with Fiyero Tigelaar, but that doesnt’t mean that she wants him around. However, after one simple walk with the Winkie Prince, Y/n discovers that he’s not so bad after all.

A/n: hi hi! I’m back with a Fiyero one shot, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten about the second Bridgerton and I. I’ve written two chapters so far over thanksgiving break and I might try to squeeze in one more chapter or at least half of one before I go back to school. I don’t really have enough time to write when I am at school, so the next time I’ll probably get back to writing during Christmas break which is in a couple weeks. Then I’ll finish the Bridgerton and I and I’m thinking about waiting to finish the Bridgerton and I completely before posting any more chapters, so the ff will probably be finished in December. I wrote this one shot because Wicked has been on my mind 24/7 and I can write whatever comes to mind, but for the Bridgerton and I have to sit down and rewatch Bridgerton episodes so that I can make sure I get all the words exactly right. I hope you guys continue to be patient as I try to finish it :).

I have recently seen the movie Wicked and plan to see 10 million more times because it is SO GOOD. Wicked is basically my whole personality at this point. I was already obsessed with Fiyero, but Jonathan Bailey as Fiyero made my obsession worse (but in a good way :)). And with this obsession comes a Jonathan Bailey Fiyero Tigelaar one shot. I hope you enjoy!! I also have a plan to write another one so stay tuned for that!

It was a beautiful day today, so after class I decided to read at my favorite spot: the bench under the oak tree. I loved it here because it was a peaceful place where I never got disturbed. Or so I thought.

I realized he was near when I heard the sound of boots stepping onto grass. It was only when his shadow blocked the words on the page that I finally looked up.

Fiyero looked down on me with curious eyes, but there was still a charming smile plastered on his face. I tried to hide how his smile affected me, but he must have noticed the change in my demeanor because his smile turned into a smirk.

I thought after my cousin Galinda introduced him to my brother and I earlier today would be the last time I saw him for the day. It appears the Winkie prince had other plans.

“Well what is Miss Upland doing under the oak tree?” He asked.

“Reading.” I held up my book for effect before I continued back to where I left off.

I saw him take a seat beside me on the bench in the corner of my eye.

“It’s Friday.” He continued.

I rolled my eyes. “I know. I can read calendars.” Fiyero chuckled at my blunt and snippy responses. He could clearly tell that I was annoyed by his presence, but he continued to talk anyway.

“It’s Friday and you are here reading under an oak tree. You should be out there having fun.” He used his hands to gesture to all the other students hanging out at the courtyard.

“This is fun to me.”

“School work is fun?”

“Well for your information this book is not for school it’s for me.”

“Well I believe you are filling your head with too many things. You’re thinking too much.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Well that’s not surprising coming from a prince like you.”

“A prince like me?” Fiyero gave a feigned pained expression. “I’m hurt that you would think that way about me.”

“Well I believe that you present yourself as self-absorbed and deeply shallow, but I don’t think you are. I think you use that as a front to hide the fact that you actually care and have thoughts.”

“Excuse me there’s no pretense here. I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow.”

“Okay.” I said not believing him. I shut my book and stood from the bench. I finished the book I was reading and decided to go search for another one to read.

“Well I guess it was nice talking to you.”

I began to walk back to my room, but he blocked my path.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my room to find another book.”

“Oh come on. Drop the book for once and have some fun.”

“No.”

I pushed past him and walked away without looking back. I was hoping he would leave me alone after that, but luck was not on my side today.

“Since you’re going back to your room, maybe I can save you the trouble of carrying your book all the way back.”

He grabbed the book from my hand before I could say anything.

“Hey give that back!”

I tried to grab the book back, but he raised the book above my head, so that I couldn’t reach and jumping up was no use. Fiyero was laughing at me struggling, so I sighed in defeat.

“Fine. You can help me carry my singular book up to my room.”

Fiyero was happy with my response because he was smiling from ear to ear. We were now standing nose to nose and I could feel his breath fan across my face. If I looked down I would have perfect access to his lips. Wait what was I thinking? I quickly backed away from him before I did anything stupid. Fiyero smiled down at me and said, “See now that wasn’t so hard now was it? Lead the way princess.”

I would he lying if I said I didn’t get affected by his words. Butterflies filled my stomach and I probably would have melted if I didn’t catch myself. What is wrong with me?

“Princess?”

“Yes princess. It suits you. Princess of the Upper Upperlands.” He said with a dramatic voice.

I was about to retaliate when a certain blondey came to mind.

“Shouldn’t you be calling Galinda princess?” I asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you two are a thing.”

Fiyero chuckled. “I just met her this morning and besides I’m like this with everyone.”

My heart sunk at his words. So he was just treating me like everyone else? But why was I so upset about it? Just a few hours ago I wanted nothing to do with him and now I was disappointed that he’s not treating me differently.

“And if I called her princess then I wouldn’t be able to call you princess. Princess.” He said with a wink.

That definitely lifted my spirits. Sweet Oz! He was making feel a roller coaster of emotions. I could tell there will never be a dull moment with him.

I gave him a small smile but I looked down on the floor to hide it from him. I didn’t want him to notice that I started to warm up to him, but he saw the slight upturn of my lips.

“Well who knew that Miss Upland could smile. It’s a miracle!”

“Oh shut up!” I said, but you could hear the grin in my voice.

“Besides reading, what do you really do for fun?” I looked up at Fiyero and could tell that he truly wanted to know my genuine answer. So it seems that my premonition about him not being self-absorbed and deeply shallow was true.

“Umm…spending time with friends, swimming. Oh there’s a lake in the Upper Upperlands that my family and I go to every summer to cool off and it has such beautiful scenery. Not to mention the nearby ice cream shop…”

I stopped after I realized that I blabbered on. “I’m sorry I sort of got carried away.”

I looked up at Fiyero, but he didn’t seem bothered at all with my tangent. He actually seemed rather interested with what I had to say.

“No continue.” He said with an encouraging smile.

“No I’d rather not.”

I know he wanted to hear more, but he didn’t push me, which I was glad for. I was a little embarrassed with my little outburst.

“Well how about you discover a new way to have fun?” Fiyero said changing the subject.

“How?”

“Come with me to the Ozdust Ballroom tonight. The most swankified place in town.”

“Aren’t we not supposed to be off campus after dark?”

“Yes, but not being allowed to leave after dark makes it more fun!”

“I’ll pass.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left her at home.”

Fiyero paused before he burst into laughter.

“My joke wasn’t that funny.” But I couldn’t help but laugh along with Fiyero.

Fiyero paused again.“Your laugh.”

I took a few moments to recompose myself before asking, “What about my laugh?”

“It’s beautiful.”

I stopped walking and choked on air.

“What?” I asked, but Fiyero ignored me.

“Which way is your room?”

I realized that we have reached the dead end which separated into two hallways.

“This way.” I said as I begin to walk to the right. I walked a little faster to make this walk shorter. I have embarrassed myself way too many times in a such a short amount of time and I just wanted to smash my pillow in my face and scream. The rest of the way was silent until we reached my door.

“Well here we are. My humble abode.” I said. “Thank you for the uh…walk.”

“It was my pleasure. I hope to see you tonight at the Ozdust ballroom Miss Upland.

“Y/n.”

Fiyero smiled at my response.

“Y/n. I hope to see you tonight.”

I opened the door and was about to walk in, but I turned around instead.

“I know you like to put on the facade that you are this Winkie prince who doesn’t have a care in the world, but you’re also human. Yes you might be self-absorbed and shallow, but that’s not all of you and you have thoughts that should be shared. If you take away your crowd of admirers you’ll be left with the real you. If you want to continue with this role in front of everyone then that’s fine…,but you don’t have to be that way with me.”

Fiyero’s expression was unreadable, but I could have sworn I saw flickers of fear and appreciation.

“Y/n…I don’t know what to say.”

His hands fell to his sides and I realized that he still had my book. I slowly inched towards his hand and pulled the book from his grasp. But before I pulled away I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You don’t have to say anything.” I said with a smile.

He nodded and with one last squeeze I pulled away and slowly closed the door shut.

—————————

I laid in my bed, for what seemed like hours, contemplating whether I should go to the Ozdust ballroom or not. I turned to my night stand to see that it’s only been a half hour. I groaned in frustration and covered my face with my pillow. Then I heard a knock at the door. I rose from my bed and opened it to see my brother Ezra.

“You. Me. Ozdust. Tonight.” He said as he entered my room.

“You know about that too?” I said as I shut the door.

“How do you know about it?” He asked curiously.

“I was invited.” I said as I plopped onto my bed. Ezra raised an eyebrow at my words and joined me.

“You were invited?! I wasn’t even invited! Who invited you?”

“So how do you know about it?” I asked avoiding what he asked me.

“I overheard some students talking about it, but don’t avoid the question. Who invited you?”

“Fiyero.”

Ezra’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling.

“Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country? But you hate him.”

“I don’t hate him! Where did you get that impression.”

“When Galinda introduced us to him you didn’t seem to be too pleased with him.”

I thought back to the first impression I had of Fiyero when I first met him.

When he first stood in front of me I took a good look at him and he was exactly what I expected from a Winkie prince. He was dressed to the nines from head to toe. You could tell his blue jacket and pants were made to perfection and the gold accents were sewn with precision. His black polished boots were so shiny that you could even see your own reflection in them. And that was just his clothes.

Fiyero had an aura about him. It was as if he believed he always had to be the center of attention. Reminds me of someone that I know, but I know that Galinda has a heart. It was too soon to tell if he genuinely cares, but by the way he acted and the way the students nearby looked at him, I could already tell that his way of life to everyone else was fake.

Then he approached me later on in the day and I got to know him a little more. I soon realized that he wasn’t all so bad by himself. It was only when he was around everyone else where his walls come up and he acts out his facade.

“I guess I had a change of heart.” I finally answered.

“Uh huh. And how did Fiyero even get the chance to talk to you. The only way that can happen is if you two hung out alone.” Ezra said teasingly as he wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed at his antics.

“Fiyero might have interrupted my peaceful reading time earlier today and I got to know him a little more.”

“Oh?!”

“And before you say anything else there was nothing else to it. He offered to walk me back to my room and that’s when he invited me to the Ozdust ballroom. On our walk back I got to know him a little better and he’s not so bad by himself.”

“Hmm hmm.”

“Nothing else happened!”

“Hey I said nothing!” Ezra said as he lifted his hands to the sides of his face in defense. “But this means that you’re coming!”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“Why-“

“But I didn’t say no either. I’m still thinking about my answer.”

Ezra looped his arm with mine.

“Now I’m forcing you to come because I’m coming and I’m not going to have you sit pathetically in your room.”

“I’m not going to—“

“Ah uh. I won’t take no for an answer. And don’t say you don’t have anything to wear. Your wardrobe is almost as grand and big as Galinda’s.”

Ezra did have a point. I worried about my appearance and wardrobe just as much as Galinda, but I didn’t flaunt it as much as my cousin did.

“Come on.” Ezra grabbed my hands and pulled me up from my bed. He led me to one of my luggage’s that turned into a closet with the push of a button. Ezra pushed the button and pushed me towards my array of dresses.

“Well go on.” He prompted.

I stumbled upon the rack and begin to flip through my choices until I came across a dress that brought a smile to my face.

—————————

Ezra and I missed the boat that Galinda and Fiyero went on, so we arrived at the Ozdust ballroom a little later. I peeked over the corner and was in awe with what I saw.

The entrance of the ballroom had a ginormous staircase which led to the dance floor. At the end of the room was where a band of animals were playing the music. On the ceiling schools of fish were dancing in formation to the beat of the music. That’s when I realized that this ballroom was underwater. That was something I’ve never seen before.

Ezra and I began to walk down the staircase and I began to notice a lot of familiar faces from school.

“Do people come here often?” I asked Ezra. He first attended Shiz last year, so he had a whole year of experience before I came along.

“I would say so. It’s where most people go over the weekend, but this is the first time I’ve ever gone.”

I looked at him shocked. “Really?!”

“Yeah. I’ve never been invited and I’ve always wanted to go, but I never knew how to get here until I overheard those two girls talking today.”

“Well today’s your lucky day!” I said with a smile.

“Indeed it is.” He said with a chuckle. “Oh I see some of my friends I invited over there. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Yeah I will. Galinda should be around here somehere.”

“And Fiyero.” Ezra said with a glint of mischievousness.

“Yeah him too.”

Ezra laughed before he walked over to his two friends. Now I was left alone to fend for myself. I noticed a drink table on the side of the dance floor, so I made my way over there.

I had no idea what was in the glass, but it tasted quite good. I sipped quietly off to the side when I noticed a familiar figure approach me.

“Well if it isn’t Miss Upland.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Alright then. Princess.”

“Y/n.” I corrected him

“Princess Y/n.”

I figured it would be pointless so I gave up trying to correct him.

“I was almost starting to think you weren’t going to show up. What made you change your mind? Me?”

“Don’t be so full of yourself Fiyero. My brother forced me to come.”

“Aww so I can’t go around telling people that you’re my date tonight?”

I nearly choked on my drink, but I managed to regain my composure.

“Not a chance.”

“What a shame and to think I was going to ask you to dance.”

“I didn’t say no to that.” I said with a teasing smile. Fiyero looked shocked and glad that I was finally playing his game.

“Since you say so, I’ll just take this.”

Fiyero grabbed the drink from my hand and downed the rest of it before setting it on the table.

“Shall we?” He extended out his hand for me to take. I didn’t say anything, but I accepted his hand and he led me to the dance floor.

He began to twirl and whirl me around to the beat of the music and I found a couple laughs slip from my mouth. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time and I couldn’t believe that Fiyero of all people was making that happen.

One by one Galinda, Ezra, and his friends joined us as well. It was great to not care about the trivial things in life and simply dance through life as Fiyero likes to put it.

At one point the band slowed down the tempo of the music to a slower one and Fiyero gave me a knowing look. I looked back at Ezra and he winked at me before walking off the dance floor with his friends. I turned back to Fiyero and grabbed his hand. He gave me a beaming smiling, put his hands on my hips and began to move me across the ballroom floor.

“You know I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier today.” He said.

“About?” But I had an inkling about what he was talking about.

“About me pretending in front of everyone else.” I simply nodded and waited for him to continue.

“I guess I started doing it in order to hide my true depth of character. It was a way for me navigate the superficial social circles and get the chance to meet powerful people. I’ve done it for so long that I forgot what it’s like to just be me, but you were the first person to ever see through that.”

I took a moment to take in his words. It must have been exhausting to keep up that facade for so long. I felt bad for Fiyero. The fact that he felt the need to live like that.

“Well like I said you don’t have to pretend with me. I want to know the real Fiyero Tigelaar. Do you think you can manage to do that?”

“I can for you.”

Under normal circumstances I would have collapsed right then and there there, but that would do either of us no good. Fiyero had just finished telling me something he’s never spoken out loud before and I have to be the support he needs.

He twirled me around once more before pulling me right back into his arms. Then he brought his mouth up to my ear and whispered changing the subject.

“You look beautiful princess. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you tonight. I must say that blue is definitely your color. You are hands down the most beautiful one here.”

“I don’t think so.” I said as I looked down at the floor bashfully.

Fiyero grabbed my chin with his finger and brought my face up to look up at him.

“I beg to differ.” He grabbed a strand of my hair and pulled it back behind my ear. I felt his breath against my ear and shivers traveled down my spine. No boy has ever gave me as much attention as Fiyero has and I was at a loss with what to do. But in a strange way I knew exactly what to do, which is why I was bold enough to try something.

“Can I tell you a secret?” I whispered in his ear.

Fiyero looked confused, but he nodded anyway. I stood up on my tiptoes and went up to his ear, but at the very last second I grabbed his face and connected his lips with mine.

At first he didn’t responded, and I got so scared I got the message wrong, so I almost pulled away. However, he soon reciprocated the kiss and placed one hand firmly on my waist and the other framing my face. The kiss started simple, but then it became more intense. I would have kept on going, but then I remembered where we were.

I pulled away and looked around to see my brother looking at me with a knowing look as if he was saying I told you so. He mouthed, “And you said there was nothing else to it.”

“Shut up.” I mouthed back.

“Do you want to take this somewhere else? Away from the public eye.” Fiyero asked.

I looked up at his blue eyes and thought about being alone with Fiyero. Being able to hold him and kiss him to my hearts desire. I nodded with a smile.

Fiyero smiled back and interlocked our hands. Together the both of us walked out of the Ozdust ballroom without a care in the world and we simply danced through life.

[kaaaaaaarf]

Sirius, who owns a popular nightclub in NYC, and Remus, who is dragged there by Lily one Friday night, but would really rather be drinking tea in his tiny industrial art studio apartment in the Bronx with his cat. Wolfstar hit it off, and Sirius takes him home—which happens to be a multi-story apartment in an old building in Tribeca that he paid for not with inheritance, but with the money he makes from his legitimate business. Remus has never been less comfortable in someone's apartment, feels like he's getting Punk'd.

Months go by and they keep seeing each other, but Remus has a panic attack every time he goes over because he is slightly afraid of the doorman at Sirius' building.

Remus, panicked and sweating: What if he doesn't let me in? It's after midnight!

Sirius: What, do you think he's gonna make you answer his riddles three before you'll be allowed in or something?

Remus: I dunno, maybe!!! Should I bring him a coffee to say sorry?

Sirius: Sorry for what?!

Remus: I don't know, existing???

He braves the doorman, though, because he's nervous about letting Sirius see his apartment, which in addition to being industrial and the size of a box, only has heat 45% of the time and has a shower rigged over the toilet. He's like no way can I take this fucking model-level hottie anywhere near this dump because it isn't meant to be lived in...but eventually, six months into the relationship he relents and brings him over. Remus is nervously pacing around his apartment, picking up clothes from his floor and Sirius is completely unbothered, more concerned with petting the cat than with how the apartment looks. It turns out that actually, Sirius lived in a very similar apartment when he was first disowned by his family and was starting up the club with a loan from Fleamont.

Sirius: Remus, sit down. My old apartment was way worse—there was actually a hole in the wall behind the bathroom mirror that lead into another apartment. I had to padlock the fucking thing so I didn't get robbed.

Nevertheless, they still spend most of their time at Sirius' place, so Remus starts baking so that he can give the doorman a peace offering for disturbing him so frequently, which turns out to be a hobby he can't really afford.

Remus, wringing his hands: Lily, I don't know if i can afford to be with this guy...I really like him, and he always pays for our dates and stuff, but I am really eating it with all the money i'm spending on the doorman. ☹️

Lily: ...I love you, but you're an idiot.

Eventually, Remus gets over his fear of Gary (the doorman), and they actually become friends. His peace offerings turn into weekly screenings of Bake Off episodes behind the security desk in the lobby. Sirius has no idea this is happening, just that Remus is always busy Tuesday nights at 7pm. He comes downstairs to walk Padfoot one day and has to double take at his boyfriend and Gary laughing about a soggy bottom.

When Gary retires a few years later, Remus actually sobs, but continues to meet him at the park on the corner on Saturday mornings with his and Sirius' daughter.

The end????

(This has been a co-production from me and @pain-in-the-riri who are both absolutely doing the work we're being paid for and not plotting the lives of wolfstar)

[devosin]

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! episode two : a day in the life of vil schoenheit

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Vil pov . .

Vil parked his car in a hurry, pressing his foot down on the brakes, until the car came to an abrupt stop, he could hear a loud crash in the back, and he can only assume something in his trunk broke. "Fuck", he stares down as his feet, trying to maintain his cool, he closes his eyes for a moment, his vision shaky. 

VIl mentally starts counting, ‘one, two, three’ in an effort to calm down his heavy breathing.

The paparazzi and public were invasive, hell he'd always known that, he's experienced it first hand, from the time a fan broke into his car and waited for him, or the time the paparazzi camped outside a set, at midnight just to take candid pictures of him at his worst state possible, or the multiple times fan accounts and more, broadcasted his location like he was public property.  

He's had his fair share of obsessive fans and run-in's with violent and severely intrusive paparazzi members, but never did he expect one to break into his fucking apartment.  

Vil blinks away the tears pricking his eyes, finally getting his breathing back to a normal pace. He hadn't even seen the intruder, but security cam footage and the sheer state of his living room was a dead give away that someone had been there, and it definitely wasn't his housekeeper, considering there was footage on his camera’s of someone watching him sleep and the next morning his bathtub was filed with warm water. 

Which also means whoever came into his home was close enough to him, to do just about anything. 

“I have to move out”, he mumbled, leaning back into the carseat, as he stares into his rearview mirror, he closes his eyes, moments like this really made him regret working in the entertainment industry, privacy was something he had to shell out for doing something he adored, reality was cruel, wasn’t it. 

Time: 7:36 am 

Location: Outside Vil’s car 

Vil places a cigarette between his lips, as he leans his body against the doorframe of his car, Vil move’s his hands, reaching into his pockets and pulls out a lighter, a second of contemplation passes before he decides to light the cigarette.  He takes a deep intake of the smoke, before exhaling with a sigh. 

His eye bags felt heavy, and his entire body felt sluggish and weighed down; he hadn't felt this shitty for months, Vil breathed out another puff of smoke. 

He didn’t smoke a whole lot, but when he did, it was to ease his anxiety, which happened to be happening more frequently than it did in the past. 

Time: 7:41 am

Location: Inside the studio

Vil walked around the set, looking around the studio, until Amanda, who seemed more than energetic at 8 in the fucking morning, approached him, “Vil, thank God you made it on time”, she said, placing her hands on his shoulders, the touch made him flinch, which she didn’t seem to notice . . ‘great . .  she’s touchy’, he thought mentally to himself. 

Vil walked around, following Amanda who seemed more than eager to show him everything, which included the mop the janitor left last night, and the stain on this specific wall they never got out but was too lazy to paint over, he debated on telling her that he could honestly care less, but he stopped himself because . .  there wasn’t much of a point to doing that. 

“Where’s y/n?”, he asked curiously, looking around the studio, and Amanda responded right away, more than eager to talk . .  doesn’t she run out of breath, ever? . .  “They’re running late, something about traffic” 

“Excuses”, Vil mumbled under his breath, glaring at the hardfloor in front of him, “What was that?”, Amanda asked . . ‘oh so she has super hearing now too?’, “Nothing.”, Vil forced a smile.  

“Actually, I think I have a meeting, um . . Amanda?”

“Really? Oh . . “, Amanda’s shoulder’s visibly slumped like some looney tunes character Vil notes mentally, the image buried in the back of his head, he’d laugh if only he wasn’t holding onto the edges of professionalism. 

“Yeah, I actually totally forgot! You know, . .  meetings!”, he explains, like he’s talking to a disappointed child, ‘the ice cream truck will come another day, sweetie’, he even does hand gestures, to further sell his point, which only makes him feel like he’s taunting her (he is). 

“. . oh . . okay . . “, she mumbles, and then perks up instantly, “I totally get it, you should try this scheduling app I use—” fuck no. 

“Look at the time”, Vil pretends to look over at his watch which died about two hours ago, right after he left the house in a rush of panic, today really wasn’t his day, “I really have to go”. . .  go get a drink. 

Editing everything actually made me want to kill myself, fucking hate canva and how slow that shit is.

Also, I was cringing so hard trying to write the "My beloved Vil" part, I could not take that shit serious, but delusional people like that do exist.

This was supposed to be a soft chapter then I lost the plot and decided to just go with it, after all, what's a smau without some drama, plus it makes sense since this was released on Friday the 13th, epic right.

Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

♡. Want spoilers ?! . . Join my server . . !! (or to be namedropped <3)

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♡ . Ask to be tagged... (If you don't see yourself up here, I cant tag you)

© devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work without prior permission and or confirmation.

[drabbles-mc]

It's Inevitable

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, pining, alcohol

30 Fic Challenge with prompts from This List: rubatosis- the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: i had the most ridiculous about of fun writing this for Bob. i adore him more than words can say 🥰

Bob felt like he had been living in a constant state of disbelief ever since he met you. From the day that the universe, or more specifically Bradley, put him into your orbit, all the events that followed felt like one little surprise after the other. He considered himself infinitely lucky for it.

When he mentioned to Bradley off-hand that they were going to have him stationed in California for a while, long enough for him to justify looking for his own place off-base, he had just been making conversation. They had just been talking about next moves and Bob felt like it was fitting, mentioning that he was going to be looking for a place, maybe even a roommate since it was going to be on relatively short-notice.

“If you’re cool with a roommate, one of my buddies actually kinda needs one,” Bradley mentioned off-hand as they racked up for another pool game at The Hard Deck.

Bob perked up slightly at that. A roommate recommendation from someone he knew seemed preferable than the alternative. He figured that Bradley wouldn’t have brought it up if it was a recipe for disaster.

“Yeah?” Bob tried to sound interested, but not too much so. There were no real guarantees, after all.

Bradley nodded before leaning down to break for the start of the game. “Yeah. Funny because we were just talking about how putting out a Craigslist Ad felt like signing up to be on an episode of a True Crime podcast.”

Bob chuckled at that. “Kind of does, yeah.”

Bradley watched Bob take his shot, not allowing the amusement he was currently feeling to show on his face. “I can introduce you guys. Wanna meet back here Friday? When Trace is done making an example out of you to the newbies?”

There was no malice to Bradley’s statement, so Bob had no problem laughing right along with him. When the laughter died down, Bob agreed to the meetup suggestion. There was a tentative feeling of hopefulness in his chest. After all, if this person was friends with Bradley, how bad could they really be?

~*~

You buried your face in your hands as you shook your head. When Bradley had asked to stop by because he had news for you, you didn’t think he was stopping by to tell you that he had gone out hunting and gathering a new roommate for you. You hadn’t asked him to do that—you hadn’t asked him for anything in regards to your living arrangements, actually. And that’s exactly what you’d told him when he said he’d found you a brand-new roommate.

“I don’t even know this guy.”

Bradley laughed and shrugged as he hopped up to sit on the edge of your kitchen counter. For how comfortable he was, you were surprised that he hadn’t taken the opportunity to move in after your ex moved out. He treated your apartment like it was his own house anyway.

“I know him. That’s not enough for you?”

You shot him a look over your shoulder as you went and grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. “No. It’s not.” You tossed him his own can before getting one for yourself. “You saw what I went through getting the last man out of my apartment—why are you inviting another one in without telling me?”

He laughed as he watched you dramatically swing the refrigerator door shut. “Okay, come on, you can’t compare him to—”

“I can’t compare him to anyone because I haven’t met him.”

“Well if you’d let me get to the end of my story, you would have the solution to that problem.” He paused and waited for you to motion for him to continue before saying, “I told him we’d meet him at The Hard Deck Friday night.”

“I should flatten this can against your skull,” you said with a semi-affectionate roll of your eyes.

There was a long pause, one accompanied by a smirk on Bradley’s face that had no real right to be there. “I’ll pick you up?”

Letting out a deep sigh, you gave in with a nod. Worst case scenario, you wouldn’t walk away from the night with a new roommate but you’d at least get to throw a couple drinks on Bradley’s tab. That was worth a little bit of something.

~*~

Bob was checking the time on his phone, his beer on the bar barely touched. When he’d texted Bradley earlier in the day, everything was still going how it was supposed to, so now he just had to sit there and wait. He could do that.

When he heard the door to the bar open, he turned and looked out of habit. He saw Bradley walk in and he felt his shoulders relax in relief. When he focused enough to see who it was that Bradley had walked in with, though, his relief was almost immediately replaced by confusion. The two of you were talking, laughing as you wove through the other people in the bar, but it still didn’t sink in with Bob that you were the ‘buddy’ who was in need of a roommate. For a moment he was just assuming that you were a girlfriend tagging along that Bradley had failed to mention.

Bob almost got up out of his seat when the two of you stopped in front of him—the only thing that kept him in place was the lingering sense of confusion. He looked back and forth between you and Bradley. He had no chance at guessing what exactly your expression meant, but he’d seen the smug look on Bradley’s face enough times to know that there was something afoot. It wasn’t the time to ask, though. Not in front of you.

“So,” you broke the silence with an easy smile, “I hear that Bradshaw promised you my second bedroom?”

Your comment got a chuckle out of Bob, something to ease the tension a little bit, not that it did anything to quiet the chaos in his head at the moment. It did earn you a shoulder-bump from Bradley, who was shaking his head at you. “I didn’t promise him anything. He said he needed a spot, I said I had a friend who needed a roommate.” He shrugged. “All true.”

You gave a dismissive roll of your eyes before returning your attention to the man sitting on the barstool watching all of this unfold. As you introduced yourself, you wondered if the slightly bewildered expression on his face was a constant one, eyes a little wide behind the lenses of his glasses, nervous smile pulling at his lips.

The three of you made a few minutes of small talk before you ducked out for a moment to answer a phone call from work. Both men watched you as you walked away, and as you were bringing the phone to your ear, Bradley turned to try and pick apart the expression on Bob’s face.

“So?” he asked, leaving it as open-ended as possible.

Bob pried his gaze off you so that he was looking at the man standing next to him instead. He shook his head slightly. “You didn’t say—you made it seem like—” He pushed his glasses up his nose, a nervous habit he had yet to shake.

Bradley laughed. “C’mon, she’s not that bad.”

“I didn’t say she was,” Bob corrected him quietly. “She wouldn’t rather have…you know…”

It was impossible for him not to at least chuckle at the way Bob was skirting around the things that he wanted to say. “She just wants someone who doesn’t make a mess and who pays rent on time. And who won’t eat her leftovers out of the fridge.”

“Last one sounds like you.”

He clapped Bob on the back with a grin. “That’s why I’m not the one moving in.” He paused, and he could see the thoughts going at a mile a minute in Bob’s head. “I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t think you guys would hit it off.”

Bob wanted to make a comment to the effect of, “That’s kind of what I’m worried about,” but you reappeared before he could.

You plopped down on the stool beside his, giving a quick apology to the both of them. Looking back and forth between them, you wanted to ask what they’d been saying in your absence, but you had a feeling that if you needed to know, Bradley would tell you in the car on the way home.

Moments after you sat down, Penny materialized with a drink for you, and she handed a bottle to Bradley as well. You thanked her, amused that Bradley actually was letting you rack up his tab. Once you took a sip, you turned to Bob.

“So, is this the part where we get to play Twenty Questions?”

He laughed as he shrugged, fingers drumming against his leg. “I guess so.”

You smiled as you nodded. “Alright.” You motioned for Bradley to sit down next to you. “Bradshaw can play referee.”

~*~

Three weeks later the moving truck was parked outside your apartment building and there were boxes piling up in what had previously been a spare room that was sometimes your office, but more often just a place for all of your clean but unfolded laundry to hang out.

Bob was timid those first couple of weeks living together. It was endearing in a way that you hadn’t expected—most of Bradley’s friends from the Navy didn’t seem to be wired like that. Bob was a nice change of pace from it all. Every time he wanted to move or add something somewhere, he always asked, always had that same little nervous smile on his face when he did.  You never told him no.

The first month or so of living together was just a big old learning curve. You learned that the two of you ran on different rhythms and schedules. Bob was an early bird, whether that was by choice or necessity you never asked. You were a night owl, though. Always had been. Luckily, you also learned that Bob was a heavy sleeper and that he was quiet in the morning when he was getting ready, so the two of you didn’t infringe upon each other much.

You learned that Bob liked to cook, was good at it even, but still hadn’t mastered how to just cook for one. That was how he learned that you had no problem doing the dishes if he was okay with sharing his food. He never told you no either.

Bob learned that most of your spare time was spent with your nose in a book or a notebook splayed across your lap while you wrote. He only ever asked once what you were writing, and when you gave him the vague answer of, “Stories,” he gave you a smile and a nod and went back to ironing his uniform. You learned that the only times Bob stayed up late was when he was playing videogames with his friends. Most of them were from the Navy, some of them were from back home. You knew which ones were which because his Navy friends had their callsigns in their gamertags—so original of them. That was also how you learned that a good handful of his friends in the Navy weren’t very good at first-person shooter games, which was deeply ironic given their professions.

By the time the third month of living together had come and gone, Bob also learned that he was falling in love with you a little bit. Or a lot. The amount of it didn’t matter, he supposed. None of it was going to help him.

~*~

You enjoyed living with Bob more than you thought you were going to. You had been willing to settle for a roommate that you could at least tolerate. You just needed someone that you could exist in the same space with sometimes when necessary. But after those first couple of weeks, it felt like almost all the time that the two of you were home at the same time was spent in the same space. Or you’d be in the living room while he was in the kitchen. You’d been ready to hole up in your room a little more often, but it never felt like you had to.

Bradley was as incessant as ever, arguing that he now had twice as many reasons to drop by unannounced now that Bob was living with you. You both knew that it was an argument you’d never win, and it wasn’t as though you didn’t enjoy his company too. By the time the first month passed, Bradley had lightened up on his weekly inquiry of, “Is this guy givin’ you any trouble?” You all knew that he never was.

You’d been waiting for the day that the surprised look would fade from Bob’s face whenever you got home, or emerged from your room, but it never did. From surprised, to smiling, to going back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there. Round and round again.

Bob never thought about how many different names he had until the two of you really got comfortable around each other. Most of the time he was Bob, which was what he was used to both on and off the base. That was the status quo.

But every now and then you’d switch it up. Like if he startled you coming home from his early-morning run, or if you didn’t hear him walk into the kitchen from his room. Then you’d call him Robert, in that fake-chastising tone that always had you trying not to laugh. Or sometimes, when he was getting frustrated about something that didn’t really matter too much in the grand scheme of things, you’d hit him with a little pat on the shoulder and a, “Calm down, Lieutenant Floyd.” And in moments like that he could hear it in your voice how long you and Bradley had been friends. If you tried to get his attention more than twice and still didn’t have any luck, that’s when he’d hear a sing-songy callout of Bobby coming from the other side of the apartment. That one always got both of you laughing.

You could’ve called him damn near anything, though, and he would’ve come running. He wondered how long he’d be able to keep his mouth shut about it all.

~*~

The two of you had been living together for six months the first time he put his foot in his mouth about it. His only saving grace, if he could even try to call it that, was that he’d said it to Bradley and not directly to you.

It made Bradley completely miss his shot in their game of pool, but he didn’t even care. He stood upright, pointing at Bob from across the table with his pool stick. “What was that?”

Bob’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. He didn’t need a mirror to know that his face was turning beet red. He could feel the warmth racing up the column of his neck and into his cheeks. “N-nothing. I didn’t—nothing.”

Bradley’s grin was so wide it was a wonder his face didn’t crack clean open. “That was something.” He walked over, paying no mind to the fact that Bob was trying to look at anything but him. “She know? You say anything to her?”

Now it was Bob’s turn to miss his shot. His heart was beating fast enough that he thought it might short-out and stop working. If Rooster was trying to get some eye contact out of him, it certainly did the trick.

“No.” Bob’s answer managed to come out clear and timid all at once.

He leaned back casually against the edge of the pool table. “Why not?”

Bob shook his head, gaze dropping to the floor. “’Cause we’re roommates.”

“So?” Bradley let the look of disbelief on Bob’s face act as a response, and he continued. “You should tell her. Want me to tell her?”

Bob’s eyes popped open so wide that Bradley was shocked they didn’t break the lenses of his glasses. “Please don’t.”

“Want me to do some recon?” He stood upright again, no longer using the pool table for support. “Find out if she’s—”

“No.”

He chuckled, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. None of this was surprising to him, really. He knew it from the second that Bob saw you when the two of them walked into The Hard Deck that day. He was honestly a little surprised that it took this long for Bob to slip up to him about it. The kid looked like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

“She hasn’t dated anyone since you moved in, has she?”

Bob shrugged. “No one that she’s brought around, at least. But she also just broke up with—”

Bradley waved off the sentence before Bob could even finish it. “That was almost eight months ago.” He paused, knowing that he had the answer to the question he was about to ask but it wasn’t going to stop him from asking it. “You’re not seeing anyone else, right?”

The red in his cheeks got a little darker but he didn’t say anything, instead just shaking his head.

“So I’ll ask her,” Bradley said, like that was the only rational response to the evidence laid out before him.

“Don’t ask her.” Bob’s statement was somewhere between an order and a plea, not hitting either note quite right.

Bradley held his hands up in surrender, but the smirk still lingering on his face didn’t make the truce feel too believable. “Alright, fine. I won’t say anything. But, if you change your mind,” he lined up his next shot, “let me know.”

~*~

Bob never brought it up again. Truthfully, he was still kicking himself for letting any of it slip in the first place. He kept waiting for another comment, another question from Bradley. Anytime that he came over to the apartment, Bob felt himself get a little more on-edge. When he could hear the two of you on the phone, he couldn’t stop the way his heart started to beat a little faster. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Bradley to open his mouth and say something.

Weeks ticked by with Bob waiting for the other shoe to drop. You’d get home, or hang up the phone, and he’d sit there with bated breath. He’d try to look like he was focusing on his laptop, or the gaming controller in his hand, but he’d be watching you in his peripheral.

And, of course, you never said anything about it. Bradley apparently never said anything about it. For all the buttons that he liked to push, Bob couldn’t deny that he was surprised that his friend was managing to keep his mouth shut about this one. Maybe that was because Bradley had the feeling it was a lost cause. Bob tried not to think about it too much.

He definitely tried not to think about it on nights like tonight, when both of you were camped out together on the sofa. The original plan hadn’t really been for the two of you to watch a movie together—Bob had gotten home later than usual and you were already about ten minutes into the film when he walked through the door. He’d had every intention of just showering and going to bed, but when he saw you curled up on the couch, throw blanket across you and an oversized bowl of popcorn in your lap, suddenly sleep didn’t seem like such a big deal.

He’d leaned over the back of the couch, a smile stretching across his face as he said, “Gonna share that or should I make another bag?”

You yelped in surprise, nearly tossing the bowl full of popcorn in the process. “Robert!” You laughed, hand resting over your heart like that would get it to slow down. “You can’t do that when there is a serial killer on the screen.”

He cracked a grin. “Sorry.”

You held the bowl up for him to reach easier. “I will share though, despite your entrance.”

He’d grabbed a couple pieces of popcorn before walking off towards his room. “I’m just gonna get changed.”

“Okay.” You tossed a piece of popcorn up in the air and caught it in your mouth. “Hurry up before someone else dies.”

Now here you were, the only thing separating the two of you was the bowl of popcorn between you. Bob was paying enough attention to the movie to know what was going on, but he’d be lying if he tried to say that most of his attention was still going to you. Something about the fact that you’d chosen to put on a scary movie and yet you still seemed shocked every time something scary happened.

Like you were reading his thoughts, you spoke up as you half-covered your eyes. “I don’t know why I do this to myself.”

He chuckled. “We can put something else on.”

You shook your head. “No, no. I’m committed now. I need to know what happens.”

His smile grew a little wider, the rapid beat of his heart having nothing to do with what was happening on-screen. “Want me to tell you what happens?”

You looked over at him. “You’ve seen this before?”

He shook his head. “No, but I can probably still tell you what happens.”

You rolled your eyes but you were still smiling, still blocking part of your view of the television on purpose like that would stop the things on screen from happening. “Very funny.”

“I think—”

Whatever he was going to say next got lost somewhere between his brain and his lips because you were placing the bowl of popcorn in his lap and scooting closer to him. You leaned so that your head was resting against the outside of his arm, throw blanket pulled up to your chin. Your legs were pulled up onto the couch, half-curled underneath you as you situated yourself against him. There was no hesitation in any move that you made, and Bob was trying to figure out if he was dreaming, and if he wasn’t he was trying to figure out how to not spontaneously combust.

“If this gets any worse,” you said, looking up at him for a moment, “then I’ll ask for your predictions.”

He was glad it was dark enough in the living room so that you couldn’t see how red his face was. All you could really see was him nodding, the reflection of the television on his lenses. “O-okay.”

The two of you managed to make it to the end of the movie, but you were practically curled so far into him that Bob thought you were just going to melt right into his arm. He didn’t mind it—he wished that the movie had dragged on for a little longer.

When the credits started to roll, you let out a deep sigh of relief but you didn’t peel yourself away from him. Bob couldn’t help but to let out a quiet laugh. “This why I’ve never seen you watch a scary movie before?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Like, twice a year I try to convince myself that I don’t get that scared.”

“It’s working real good, then,” he joked.

You laughed, blanket still pulled up over your shoulders. “I’d say so.”

He reached for the controller. “Want me to put something less scary on?”

You nodded, reaching out of you blanket cocoon to grab a handful of popcorn. “Yes please.”

He was expecting you to pull away once there was a comedy safely playing on-screen. He waited for the warmth of you and the blanket you were buried under to disappear. But it didn’t. You stayed there just like that, casually stealing one handful of popcorn at a time till there was nothing but kernels left.

You made it halfway through the next film before you looked up at him again and said, “You’re up way past your bedtime.”

He laughed softly and shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

Just as he finished saying that, he yawned. You smiled. “You sure about that?”

He felt his face heat up. “I’m good.”

“Slumber party rules, you know. First one to fall asleep gets it.”

He felt himself melting back into the couch cushions a little more, body finally starting to relax more from tiredness than anything else. “What’s the punishment? Sharpie mustache?”

You laughed, resituating against him as you did. “No, no. That’d be too mean—can’t have you walking around looking like Bradshaw.”

~*~

When you woke up in the morning, you were still on the couch. Alone. You had a pillow propped nicely underneath your head and rather than the throw blanket that you’d been using during the movie, you had a real comforter draped over you. It took a moment for you to put it all together.

You got yourself half upright, propped up on your elbows. Through half-open lids you looked around the apartment, the kitchen and the living room. You could see that it was empty but even so you called out a groggy, raspy, “Bob?”

When you were met with silence, you fell back against the couch again. Dragging your hands across your eyes, you tried to wake yourself up a little more. You stared up at the ceiling, watching lights and shadows fly across it as cars drove by your building. People who were up and about much earlier than you.

You weren’t sure how much time you’d spent simply lying there debating whether or not you wanted to get off the couch and attempt to salvage what was left of your morning. Just as you were getting ready to peel the blanket off you when you heard the sound of keys in the lock on your apartment door.

For a moment you about to sit upright, but then you could hear how quietly and slowly he was trying to enter the apartment. All those mornings sneaking in quietly after his runs so he didn’t wake you, and this was the first time you were not only awake, but ready for it. You heard him toe off his shoes, heard the rustling of a bag that you were desperately hoping had donuts or bagels inside of it.

You were so busy being excited by the sound of iced coffee rattling against its cup that you almost missed the sound of Bob murmuring to himself. You couldn’t quiet make out what he was saying exactly, only that he was whispering to himself as he set things down on the counter. Waiting a moment, you strained your ear in hopes to get a better idea of what he was saying.

When he stopped talking altogether, you sat upright. His back was to you as he pulled the drinks from the tray they were in, opened up the bag of pastries he’d grabbed. You smiled at the sight of him, a warm flutter in your chest.

“Got enough to share?” you piped up.

For once it was Bob’s turn to flinch, to spin on his heel in shock. His eyes were wide, paper bag clutched tightly in his hand. He was certain that if his life had been a cartoon you would’ve seen the outline of his heart beating in his chest.

“Um, yeah.” He nodded, holding up one of the coffees as though to prove he was telling the truth. “Yours.”

Standing up off the couch, you kept the blanket wrapped around you like the most oversized shawl you’d ever seen as you padded over to where he was standing in the kitchen. Reaching out, you took the iced coffee from him, a smile on your face as you took a sip. It was impossible to miss the way that Bob was looking at you, looking like he had something to say. You waited for it, but it never came.

“Rehearsing lines?” you asked casually as you reached for the bag he was holding.

It seemed to snap him out of the trance he was in. “What?”

You pulled out one of the donuts in the bag. “When you came in,” you took a bite, “thought I heard you talking.”

His eyes widened a little bit, cheeks starting to flush pink. “Oh.”

You smiled, tilting your head. “What?”

He picked up his own cup of coffee. He stared at it for a moment, swirling it around to buy himself a few extra seconds. His heart was beating so hard that he was expecting it to cause ripples in the coffee he was holding.

“I, um,” he cleared his throat, looking you in the eyes, “yeah.”

You set your coffee down, suddenly feeling a little foolish with the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. “You okay?”

He nodded. “I’m okay.”

Your smile was soft, warm. “You sure? Looking a little wistful over there.” You saw the way a few sentences started and died on the tip of his tongue. Your lips started to dip down into a frown. “Bob?”

“I really, uh, I really like…living here with you.”

Something akin to relief was creeping its way across your chest and you allowed yourself a small smile. “I like you living here.” You tilted your head slightly. “Why do you look so worried about that?”

He managed a chuckle of sort. “Because,” with each word he tried to get out, he felt like his heart was going to beat clean out of his chest, like his ribs weren’t strong enough to keep it in place, “I don’t want that to change.”

“Why would it?”

“I love you,” he blurted out. “I…I love you.” The blush on his face darkened and he gave a weak smile. “That’s not how I rehearsed it.”

You let out a laugh, one that was choked with emotion. It felt impossible to get the words out that you wanted, like they were all getting stuck in the back of your throat. You could see it on Bob’s face that he was trying to come up with the next thing to say.

Before either of you could implode, you collapsed the distance between you and kissed him. The blanket that had been around your shoulders fell to the floor as your lips caught his. There was a split second of hesitation, but once Bob realized that it was real, that this was all happening, he wrapped his arms around you. His hands splayed across your back, pinning you tight to him.

Your fingers threaded into his hair, leaning into him until he was snug between you and the counter behind him. Bob soaked it is, the way it felt to have the warmth of your body pressed against his. He was certain that this would be the time you’d hear his racing heartbeat, be able to feel it since you were so close. For once he hoped that you would.

You pulled away, just enough to be able to get a good look at his face. He brought one hand up to fix his glasses, the other staying on the small of your back. You toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck as you tried to commit everything about how he looked in that moment to memory.

“I love you too,” you said, voice soft when you finally had it in you to string the words together.

You saw the smile on his face and then you felt it as he kissed you again. It was all laughter and soft touches and wandering hands. Months of bottled up feelings starting to reach the surface. With your palm resting against his chest, you could feel the speed of his heartbeat, but he didn’t seem nervous now. For a moment you were surprised to find that you weren’t nervous either. Then you felt the pad of his thumb against your cheek as he pulled you in for another kiss and you finally felt like you were home. And there was nothing more comforting than that.

(divider by @firefly-graphics)

Top Gun Maverick Taglist: @garbinge @proceduralpassion @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of taglists please let me know!)

[willyoubemycherryy]

𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑆𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 (𝐹. 𝑇𝑖𝑔𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑎𝑟)

Unfortunately this is my life right now. I needed my family gone YESTERDAY.

Contains: stressed, stress, stressing, tangible irritation, dysfunctional oblivious family, kissing, hiding, cameo appearance based on my older sister

There wasn’t a breath deep enough you could take to calm yourself down.

Fiyero seemed to be acutely aware of this so he stayed silent as his chest was pressed to yours where you both were glued together, currently hiding from the everlasting season of irritation that was your family and the holidays. There honestly weren’t any words.

The lack of space, the way they stayed glued to your side during most of their stay, the snoring, endless noise, whining, complaining, the way all your brothers seemed to speak in surround sound, all the mess, how nothing was ever good enough for your mother, toppled over with all your unfairly assigned “sister responsibilities”.…you exhale heavily through your mouth as you run your hands down your face. If all the general inconvenience wasn’t enough, you barely got to spend any alone time with the one person who didn’t constantly stress or annoy you. The most you got to do was a peck- maybe kiss- and you had to sneak to do that because if they knew you had a boyfriend after being socially averse your whole life, you know how badly they’d blow it out of proportion- before one of your family members was off wanting to do something or another. Another heavy sigh and with this one, you’re fighting tears. You just want your apartment back, no mess and no noise with no loud family that wears out every welcome you’ve ever given. Peace and quiet. That’s all you wanted.

So, here you were; hiding with your secret boyfriend in the bathroom with the lights off to escape the noise and be alone with the solace you give each other for just a few minutes. You’ve had a headache for days and Fiyero’s been going with everything assumingely unbothered but you know better. He likes the space you two have. He also knows that you truly didn’t want to do anything this year so the look on your face when all your close relatives and siblings literally appeared at your place on Friday for a surprise stay at your place for Christmas week gave him a hint on why you wanted to stay out of the drama for this year. Plus…Fiyero misses you. Yeah, you were there but you weren’t happy. He misses you happy and the flow you both had before it got disrupted. Your folks were nice enough but he couldn’t overlook how…inconsiderate…they also were. Just dropping in without checking in on how you felt about it or if you had any prior plans and then expecting you to accommodate them, didn’t feel right. He can only imagine how over it you really are so that’s why if in this moment all he can give you is silence, he will. Smoothing a hand down your hair, he resigns himself to wait in the darkness along with you until you’re ready but you speak first.

“I want our apartment back.”

“I know. Me too, miss having you all to myself.”

You smile a little at that because it really was lovely with just the two of you. Quiet, calm, and a sweet atmosphere that came with coexisting with the love of your life.

“Don’t get me wrong- i did miss them just-”,

“Not all at once for an impromptu 7 day stay?” You pinch your lips in as a frown overtakes your features, the picture of unhappiness and Fiyero pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you and rests his chin on top of your head while you pout.

“Exactly.”

You both sigh in tandem, soaking in the one break you’ve had in 5 whole days.

“What else is it? You’ve been more…” Fiyero trails off as he cups your face, peering down into yours. He doesn’t really have to elaborate because you know what he means and you know he won’t judge your answer.

“…they’re just so…needy. They want everything. You should’ve seen the episode yesterday in the shopping center.” You groan remembering how much a season you didn’t plan on participating in has cost you. You didn’t even want to celebrate in the first place. You just wanted to relax, have sex with your boyfriend, and enjoy holiday themed stuff and occasional outings with your friends but nooo you couldn’t even do that.

Sensing your rapidly overwhelming frustration, Fiyero presses a slow, firm, kiss on your lips. Humming when you kiss him back before pulling away.

“Just 2 more days”, he says, squishing your cheeks so your mouth opens then leaning back down to kiss you again but deeper. He swallows your moans as you drag your hand up his back, feeling the muscles there as he takes your breath away. You feel his tongue lave hotly across the inside of your cheek and you almost lose your balance from the jolt of pleasure that shoots through you, other hand gripping his forearm. However, Fiyero pulls away before you can make a scene, resting his forehead against yours as you gasp against his mouth, trying to catch your breath. You barely hear him when he talks through the blood rushing in your ears, heart pounding.

“Two more days. Okay?”

The rasp in his voice hypnotizes you and you nod belatedly, movements slow and jerky as you repeat dumbly after him.

Mmhm, yeah, two more days.”

Fiyero smiles at how eager you are to forget the past 5 days of disaster through his touch but it’s only 4:11 pm and you have company waiting. You slip your hands underneath his ugly Christmas sweater, feeling the hard ridges of his muscles, tilting your head up with a pleased hum when he meets your lips again within seconds. It’s honestly the best you’ve felt in days, held and being kissed breathless. The only noise being your panting and Fiyero’s low groans. You drag your fingertips down his happy trail- not to start anything, of course but just because his skin is nice- feeling giddy at the way his hands hold you tighter.

“Honey! Are you almost done? We have awkward posed pictures to take!” Rapid knocks accompanied by your older sisters voice make you two spring apart and you fight not to scream in frustration.

“Yeah I’ll be out in a few minutes!” You yell back, craving an empty space more than ever. Huffing one more time, you feel Fiyero nose along your temple before whispering in your ear.

“Two more days?”

“Two more days and not a hour longer.” You hear the footsteps walk away from the door but of course it’s not the end the end of it.

“You should invite your friend! The one that’s been hanging around the last couple of days! He’s ridiculously hot and he’s got an ass that could cause traffic!!” She yells across the distance she walks from the door and your mouth drops in sheer mortification, face hot while you pointedly ignore the shake of Fiyero’s chest as he laughs; clearly very much enjoying your sisters praise.

“I really am all that, huh?

This won’t be the longest two days of your life at all..

[nrdmssgs]

Kissing König on the forehead

Masterlist Kissing Ghost on the forehead Kissing Price on the forehead

TW: mentions of social anxiety

His life consists of you. Literally: you have become the measure of everything. There are no more 'Fridays' or 'Novembers' - there are days, weeks and months, until he sees you again. No more rooms in his house - there is a wall to which he pressed his back, giving you more space to pass by, when he first saw you. There is a stove where you burned your fingers, making his heart ache when he saw your tears for the first time. There is a window, by which he fell on his knees and frantically stroked and kissed your hands, after he heard your timid confession. Anything beautiful he witnessed, anything meaningful he heard or read, made sense, only when he thought, how would he share it with you.

König knows, It's too much, his eagerness to be by your side constantly, his hunger for your touch, his feelings - he is too much. And he is afraid, so terribly and utterly afraid, that one day you see it too and leave him. So he restrains himself, tries to be less vocal, clasps his hands around his elbows to not hug you every minute, he is around. König carefully plans every conversation, you two will have, when he is back from deployment. Sometimes these imaginary chats end good, other times - you yell at him, but what is even worse - you cry. Your tears, even ones, he imagines pain him so badly - he immediately takes out his phone and texts you.

"I am so sorry, Schatz."

He snaps back to reality only when he gets your worried answer. Of course, you get scared and want to know, what happened. So he has to come up with some excuse.

"I am sorry for not being right now with you. I know, it's evening back at home, and you are probably watching some show, and I remember, how you like cuddling, while doing it. I'm sorry for not being there."

König finally puts the phone away, hissing at himself for this episode.

When he finally returns, you refuse to wait for him at home and come straight to the station. He allows himself to squeeze you in his arms, but deep inside his head, König counts. "One-two-three-four-five-it's time to let her go, you can't just stand there and embarrass her with your tenderness in front of everyone. You are becoming too much once again."

You interrupt his inner tirade. "Let's go home, love."

An entrance door shuts behind his back, and he finally takes a deep breath in, feeling the familiar scents of your shared house. König hears some strange repeating noise, lowers his eyes and notices that you are immersed in the fight with a jamming zipper on your jacket. On the very next moment, he kneels before you, moves your hands away from the zipper and tries to figure it out himself. It takes him a while, because he is afraid to pull too hard, finally destroying the jacket. You look at him warmly and laugh softly. "König don't worry, I can handle it."

At that moment, zipper finally breaks. König frowns.

"You couldn't just mind your business, you idiot? Now she is going to finally see, how overwhelming you are, how you break everything, you care for, how you smother those, who you love. Is that what you wanted?" An angry voice inside his head shouts and silences everything around, including König himself. He doesn't feel his lips starting to tremble, forming some apologetic mumbling. He doesn't hear, when you try to reassure him.

So you take a quick step forward, and embrace him, pressing your lips against his forehead. Maybe that angry voice exists only in his head, but it's not the first time, you witness König tearing himself apart for no reason.

"You are overthinking again, love. But its going to be ok, I promise." Another kiss on his forehead.

"You are not overwhelming to be with, you are not annoying. No." By this time, you know all the terrifying things König's mind whispers and shouts to itself.

"No one is going to get tired and leave you. Especially not me." You kiss his closed eyes, not caring for remains of dark camouflage paint on his skin.

"You are overthinking, and it is ok, because it shows, that you really care. It's not your fault." You press your lips against his face, so that he not only hears, but also feels, what you are saying.

And that silents Königs anxiety and self-doubt. He suddenly feels tired, but endlessly loved. He finally comes back home, pulling you into a long and tight embrace, not counting seconds this time.

[fine-nephrit]

🥏 Where to find good XF fanfics

👽 On Tumblr

@lilydalexf has an encyclopedic knowledge of fics and continues to be an invaluable resource. You'll find a boatload of themed fic lists, individual rec posts and helpful answers to anon asks.

@txf-fic-chicks-blog seven years of almost daily recs, with well-written blurbs and a lot of fun, run by @kateyes224 and @piecesofscully. Look out for their themed days: "Casefile Monday", "Tumblr Tuesday", "Editor's Pick Wednesday", "Post-Ep/Missing Scene Thursday", "Novel Length Friday", "Smut Sunday", and the very cool "Because You Watched"

@msrlibrary a well-tagged library of MSR fics; each entry includes a short excerpt and a nicely chosen image from the show.

@201daysofxfiles a rewatch blog by fandom veteran @wendelah. Each episode in season 1-7 is paired with its own fic rec post.

@enigmaticxbee an aesthetically pleasing and neatly organized rewatch blog that is packed with great content, including excellent fic rec lists categorized by season, story type, trope, and more. Each episode guide sometimes features related fic recs.

@thatfragilecapricorn30 posts one fic rec every Friday, accompanied by a nice writeup.

@randomfoggytiger curates many fic rec lists sorted by often fun and creative categories.

@cecilysass has a google doc titled "fics I love", which is a fantastic fic list categorized by story type, complete with thoughtful blurbs. She's also shared two episode-related fic rec lists on Tumblr: here and here.

@pookie-mulder writes a monthly fic journal with good recs.

**self-promo plug** I post fic recs on my Tumblr blog @fine-nephrit under #nephrit's fic rec. Plus, I reblog others' fic recs that I come across!

👽 Rec Communities

XF Book Club: the best thing ever, an absolute gem that deserves to be preserved for posterity. During its run, 270 fics were recced and discussed in depth here. The community's intelligent and insightful comments on this blog are sometimes even more enjoyable to read than the fics themselves.

The Fic Filter (xf tag): well-curated selections with short blurbs.

Multifandom Het Recs (xf tag): a major rec site's xf section that offers nice "why this must be read" writeups. @het-reccers

Crack Van (xf tag): another major rec site with a big xf section, featuring endless recs and blurbs

Fancake (xf tag): another major rec community's xf section boasting an extensive thematic tagging system

👽 Personal Blogs

Emily Shore aka Naraht: meta essays, fanvid recs, fic recs—great stuff aplenty

Bad for the Fish aka Scarlet Baldy: fantastic fic list paired with highly enjoyable reviews and analyses of the fics she's read. @badforthefish

Ramblings of a Mind Untamed: reviews of a dozen or so classic fics

xxSKSxx XF Fanfic Recs: still active in 2024! @xxsksxxx

X-Libris: more of a fic library, this is the best place to download nicely-formatted ebooks of pre-AO3 oldies. What I love most is the incredibly detailed and extensive tagging system.

👽 Individual Rec Lists with good writeup

Character Manifesto - Dana Scully: a character analysis and 10 Scully-centric fic recs, categorized by "best of .." selections. Amazing format and choices!

Character Manifesto - Fox Mulder: same format as above for Spooky

bachlava's awesome fic rec essays, covering classic fics and slash fics

ShipRecced blog's classic MSR fics and newer MSR fics recs

luminary's 16-fic rec post

RivkaT recs fics and writers @rivkat

Anna Otto's favorite stories

Syntax6's rec list on her site, great rec list on Tumblr and FTF rec list @syntax6

👽 90s Old School Rec Sites

The Basement Office - Musea: a treasure trove of extensive fic lists with lovely written blurbs, recced by a group of talented writers from back in the day

The Other Side - Fanfic Recs from Beyond the Grave: a large collection of 'scary' or 'spooky' story recs with nice blurbs. Beautiful web design.

the Rookery - Favorite Authors: nice commentary on a list of classic fic writers

X-Files Fanfiction 101: an intro guide to fic categories and what to read for each

The Primal Screamers: a fun site run by a mailing list that hosts fic recs with blurbs, and a 'Coffee Talk' section full of delightful discussions of canon

Idealists Haven - Elemental Fanfic Archive: an archive with rec blurbs

Chronicle X: a large, well-organized archive with blurbs, plus a 'Can We Talk' discussion section of novel-length fics, plus a total of 46 author interviews. Simply incredible!

👽 Special Mention

The X-Files Lost and Found: a fic finder message board that is miraculously still very active today—How wonderful! Its FAQ page hosts a huge collection of well-categorized themed fic lists (not recs), including "Classics (or, Your Fanfic Education is Not Complete Until You've Read ...)".

Where do you find your next read? What did I miss? Reblog and share your favorites!

[soobnara]

like clockwork / c.sb

soobin x reader

summary: in a world where love is given an expiration date, you find your forever home in an unexpected place.

word count: 10.1k

tags: soulmate!au, best friends to lovers, mostly romance + fluff, fake dating if you squint, reader is afab w/ gender neutral pronouns + fem terms (noona) used

author's note: finally got around to finishing this... it's been a long while coming and i couldn't get myself to write for various reasons and i'm so happy it's all done and out there! (also for any black mirror fans out there, yes this is loosely based on the 'hang the dj' episode but way more lighthearted and with a dash of soulmate brainrot) hope you enjoy and wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season <3

For as long as Soobin can remember, he’s been counting down the days. 

To summer vacation, to the end of his shift at his part time job, to the start of a long awaited trip, to anything. But there’s something else that counts down on his behalf, something that he doesn’t particularly want to count.

That something is inlaid in a nondescript watch wrapped around his wrist. Everyone gets one once they turn 18, and as far as he’s concerned, its only purpose is to ruin relationships. The cruel hands of time assign a “best by” date to each romantic encounter, flashing on the screen from the first meeting, with each failure promising to lead the user closer and closer to their fated lover. If you ask Soobin, it’s all bullshit. How would a stupid watch know anything about fate, anyways?

It’s a typical Thursday night, and Soobin’s mindlessly scrolling through Time to Love, the government mandated dating app that all phones come with, as per usual when he can’t decide on something to watch. He has yet to meet the weekly two date quota, having only gone on one on Tuesday (important to note that he’s already forgotten his name), and he’s running out of time, and he really can’t afford to pay that 100,000 won fine this week. Well, he can’t afford to pay it at any point in time, but this week’s been especially rough on him, and he doesn’t want to shell out any more of his meager savings just because he couldn’t get a date, of all things. 

The names and faces on his phone screen are a blur as his thumb swipes left aimlessly– he doesn’t really give that much of a shit who he ends up with, because at the end of the day, he’ll say “No” when the app asks him if he’d liked them and give them a terrible review saying they were incompatible, because frankly, the algorithm seems to always be wrong when it comes to his matches. Either that, or it’s because he cares so little that he doesn’t bother properly vetting his matches.

He’s resigned himself to his fate anyways; he’ll fill up his progress bar with a bunch of shitty matches until the algorithm decides it’s time for him to settle down, then when he finds his “soulmate” (if you could even call it that), he’ll just be doomed to a loveless arranged marriage set in place by a computer and die unhappy. He can’t envision happiness ever coming out of something so lifeless, so cold, so that’s just how it has to be. At least it gives him something to do instead of rewatching the same three anime series over and over again.

Whatever– he’ll just swipe right on the next person and go on yet another unmemorable date tomorrow. Lee Saerom, the profile reads. She’s exceptionally pretty, he has to admit, and she’s an artist, (and she’s older, but don’t ask him about that) so he’ll just ask her about her work and let her ramble for the allotted two hours while he smiles and nods.

He swipes right, and a bright pink heart pattern fills his screen, signifying a successful match. Obnoxious. It’s replaced with a time and a place, and he lets out a groan. Congratulations! Your date is scheduled for 6pm, at the Coffee Shop. He was supposed to meet you at 7 tomorrow for your usual Friday night updates. 

Fuck. What if the date goes on longer than an hour?

He’s never been late for your weekly meetups, but he figures you’ll understand, since it’s completely out of his control.

Surely you won’t kill him, right?

Just in case, he recites a prayer to himself before he tucks in for the night.

You’re already nursing your third vodka soda of the night and Soobin is still nowhere to be found, which is unusual. He’s never been the most punctual person, but standing you up for an hour after your usual meeting time isn’t like him, either. He said he’d be late, but he didn’t specify how late… you’ll grill him later when he explains himself, and you’ll make him buy you a drink or two as compensation. With the comfort of a free drink in mind, you’re about to order your fourth round when Soobin finally stumbles in through the door of the bar, eyes scanning each booth until his gaze lands on you, and with an apologetic smile, he’s sliding into the seat across from you. 

He gestures to your glass, brow curled upwards, which you know means he’s teasing you. “What number is this one, noona? You always polish these things off like they’re nothing.”

“This is number three, with number four on the way, and that’s because they are. You owe me at least two for taking so long to get here, asshole.” You let out an indignant huff as you slurp the last of the cocktail through your straw, lips jutting in a comical pout.

“Okay, okay. Next one’s on me.” Soobin relents with an endeared laugh, waving down the waitstaff and ordering a beer for himself, along with another vodka soda for you. 

“Okay, now spill.”

“What? Am I supposed to have some hot gossip for you? Don’t make me guess about what drama I’ve somehow found myself in on accident.” He’s visibly confused, brows knitted together, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Obviously the only reason you would ever skip out on your dear noona was if TTL scheduled you for a date during our usual time, so spill. How bad was this one?” 

His lips part in understanding, (you can practically see the figurative lightbulb flickering on) head bobbing in an exaggerated nod before pulling his phone out, hand outstretched to show you his date’s profile. “I mean, she was okay, I guess. Pretty girl, and she was older, but she spent the entirety of our time slot babbling about her latest art project and how it’s supposedly going to blow away the industry. Which is fine, I guess, because you know I hate talking on these dates, but if she said “brush technique” and “negative space” one more time I think I would’ve tried to drown myself in my caffe mocha. The app thought so too, I guess, because when we checked our expiration date, it was exactly an hour from the start time, so it’s not like I missed out on my forever soulmate or whatever.”

Each TTL date is scheduled for an arbitrary amount of time, depending on your expiration date, which is determined from the first moment you meet– sometimes it’s just a few minutes, an hour or two, and anything longer than 24 hours is given a two hour time slot maximum. There’s supposedly an extremely rare case where you aren’t given an expiration date from the get go, regardless of your progress, meaning that you’ve found your soulmate by sheer luck, but it’s almost unheard of– most people don’t find their soulmates until they’ve completely filled up their bars, something about needing ample data to calculate optimal compatibility.

You ogle at his phone screen for a bit– she really was stunning– then guffaw at the thought of Soobin nodding halfheartedly, listening to a pretty girl talk his ear off, when most men would probably kill to be in his position. “Damn, if even an older woman that pretty can’t hold your attention, and the app confirms that, you know it’s bad… So, where does that put your progress at? Weren’t you at like, 80% last week?”

Soobin’s face practically scrunches in on itself at your remark, tapping the app once more to check his updated progress bar. “I’m going to ignore that. I’m at… 88% after I reviewed Saerom and that guy from earlier in the week. Guess it wasn’t a total waste if I got 8% closer to completion. What are you at now?”

You lift your phone to open TTL, your progress bar only having inched 2% closer to completion after your date yesterday. “75% now. I think the algorithm is personally fucking me over, or something. My last few matches have been nice enough, but I cannot keep up with their energy. It’s wringing me dry. I must be the only person in the entire world who doesn’t want a golden retriever for a partner. My date yesterday just about knocked me out for good, he was that energetic.”

“Tell me about it,” Soobin commiserates. “I’ve very clearly expressed my distaste for bubbly and talkative people who probably peaked in high school, but that’s all they’re spitting out in my for you page. No offense to them, I don’t think I’ve met any straight up assholes since that one girl from last year, but it’s like the app is purposely recommending the most incompatible people to me– wait, yesterday? And I didn’t hear about this?”

You give him a pointed look, silently conveying that he also didn’t inform you of his date today until ten minutes ago. He gets the message and holds his hands up in defeat, then gestures for you to speak, dimples peeking out as he purses his lips. You sigh, rubbing your temples as you recall the most chaotic two hours of the week, maybe even your life.

“Okay, look… for the record, he was very nice to me, a perfect gentleman, but my god, could that guy talk. He was practically falling at his knees trying to impress me, which would’ve earned him a few points in my book, but his mouth was moving maybe five miles a minute at all times without a moment of rest. It was like watching a child hopped up on sugar, to be honest. He talked for forty whole minutes nonstop about pizza. Don’t even get me started on how passionate he was about his workout routine.”

Your drinks finally come around, and Soobin hands you your frosted glass, which you gratefully take a long sip out of before continuing. “And before you say anything, no, he was nothing like Kai. Also, Kai is literally like my child, and just because I babysat him all those years does not mean I want to date someone like him.”

Soobin parts his lips to respond, then scrunches his nose in distaste as you take the words right of his mouth, opting to down his drink instead. “You’re no fun.”

“But that’s why you love me, right?”

“Sure, noona, sure.”

“That’s it, asshole, you owe me another drink.”

Sunday rolls around, which means you’ve got to start scoping out this week’s dates– you hate leaving anything to the last minute, and you like to leave the end of your week as free as possible (no one is prying your precious rest time from you, not even a beautiful person with the world’s best personality). 

Which means you’re mindlessly swiping through a sea of profiles, hoping you find someone that’s at least remotely interesting. You’re prepared for a long night of doom scrolling, but you stop cold in your tracks as you come across a familiar name and face, and a lump forms in your throat.

Choi Soobin.

The algorithm is really fucking with you now. It has to be. You’ve never once even considered your best friend as a potential suitor, not because he isn’t insanely attractive and charming (and funny, and easy to talk to, and…), but because he’s your best friend. You’ve known him for so long, you’ve seen him cry when he couldn’t get the Pokemon card he wanted when he was young enough to need allowance to buy it, and he’s seen you for long enough to know you threw the nastiest toddler tantrums over being denied an ice cream purchase– the point is that you know him a little too well, and you know from experience that that’s not always ideal in romance. 

But you have been having terrible luck with your matches for so long, and two hours of Soobin’s undivided attention doesn’t seem so bad, and it would be a good time, at least…

You kick yourself mentally for even thinking of it. He’s your best friend, for god’s sake.

Yet your thumb continues to hover over his profile, quivering as you make the motion to swipe right on him without touching the screen. The guilt and the risk of maybe ruining your friendship forever clearly isn’t enough to stop you from considering him. 

The gentle, familiar smile that he’s sporting in his profile picture pierces your heart, and you’re not sure why. Maybe you’ve always had a thing for him unconsciously, maybe you just want someone who actually gets you, maybe you’re just running out of options. Or maybe you’re just tired of chasing after something you know is futile, and you want to take a chance on something, on someone, that might actually be good for you. On someone that you know would be good to you, and for you.

And so, with bated breath, you swipe right.

[Time to Love: Y/N has liked you! Open the app for more details.]

To say Soobin is struck with disbelief would be an understatement. He’s practically gaping at his phone, and he knows you’d be laughing your ass off and making fun of him if you could see him. But it’s precisely that typical flippant attitude of yours that’s got him perplexed about this development.

He’d be lying if he said he’s never once thought of you that way– he’s always thought you were pretty and kind hearted, despite your temper, and you’ve always been there for him, through thick and thin, even when he was being kind of a dick. That definitely counts for something. But he’s never thought about crossing that boundary, because 1) he’s not allowed to pursue anyone he doesn’t match with through the app anyways, and 2) matching with you could make or break your bond forever (he’s leaning towards break, though, because like he said, the watch is bullshit). In short, he’s a fucking coward and a little too cynical for his own good. 

But here it is, an opportunity for a date with you, in all its glory, and initiated by you, no less. He should be celebrating, or at least hyped up, because maybe it’ll all work out, maybe this is the solution to all his lukewarm matches over the last few months, but instead he’s downright terrified. There’s absolutely no way that you both come out of this unscathed. There’s no such thing as a perfect forever if it’s decided by a computer. There can’t possibly be a happy ending at the end of this road.

He shakes his head, as if it would clear his head of the panicked thoughts. You’re still his best friend, at the end of the day, he tells himself, and he’s sure that you’ll fight just as hard as he will to keep him in your life. So he holds onto the tiniest sliver of hope that somehow your relationship doesn’t crash and burn spectacularly, opens the app, and swipes right on you.

Congratulations! Your date is scheduled for 3pm, at the Aquarium. 

A new notification pops up. Soobin’s heart stirs.

y/n noona: see you tomorrow ♥️

He feels guilty as a wave of excitement washes over him. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. You’re his best friend. His dear noona. He may as well be signing away your friendship for good. But it’d be worse if he didn’t match your enthusiasm.

soob: yup, see you tomorrow noona :]

It’s only 5 minutes past the scheduled meeting time, and already Soobin’s panicking that you’ve changed your mind and cancelled on him, writing this off as a mistake. He’s trying his very best to remain nonchalant, it’s just a date with his best friend, who he might have a sapling of a crush on, no big deal, right? Or maybe it is for the best if you cancel, then he’d have one less crippling fear to worry about.

He’s rethinking his outfit for the umpteenth time– he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, not in front of you because you’d probably think it was silly, but he also doesn’t want you thinking he shows up to dates looking like a slob. (For the record, he thinks he’s got a decent sense of fashion. He’s better than Kai, at least, though that isn’t saying much.) He’s internally debating if he should’ve gone with the navy polo shirt instead of the grey cardigan draped over his shoulders, or if he should’ve gone with the black slacks instead of the light wash jeans, but his jumbled thoughts dissipate as you tap on his shoulder, shit-eating grin and all. 

“What’s with you, Soob? You look like the fate of the universe depends on you, and you only have 5 minutes to save all of humanity.” You tease, nudging your shoulder against his. Oh, if only you knew what was really weighing on him.

He has half a mind to swat your shoulder, but he’s a little too aware that the two of you are supposed to be on a date, so instead he shoves his hands into his pockets. To his surprise, you’re more dressed up than usual, (he’s used to seeing you exclusively in oversized hoodies) and– wait, you two are practically matching, from the grey cardigan, light wash jeans, all the way down to the white sneakers. The only difference is that you’ve buttoned up your cardigan so that it functions more as a blouse, but you two clearly have definitely mastered the art of accidental couple looks.

“Okay, awkward… one of us has to change.” He teases in an attempt to ease his own racing mind, dimples peeking out as he stifles a laugh. You let out an indignant huff, pushing his massive frame with no success. He doesn’t even budge.

“Not my fault that you’re trying to steal my look. I wore it better, by the way,” You retort, but truth be told, you’re reeling at the sight of him. You’ve only ever seen him in his stuffy work attire and the worn-out, faded shirts he refuses to throw out, and seeing him in a comparably softer, more preppy look is making you see him with new eyes.

You shake your head, as if doing so will reset your perspective to factory settings and make you see him as just your best friend again. (spoiler alert: it doesn’t. Soobin is still handsome and he looks very cute, and you’re still very much affected by it.) “Okay, so. First things first. Should we check our apps? To see if, like, we’re compatible, or I don’t know.” Your voice is stiff, like you’re buffering, and you don’t think you’ve ever been this awkward around Soobin, at least not since the day you met.

Soobin turns up his nose in disagreement and covers his watch screen and yours. “Nah, that’s bullshit. It’s already all decided, isn’t it? It’s been decided from the second we stepped into the aquarium. No point in checking now, we should decide for ourselves if this is something we want to pursue, instead of letting some computer dictate that. When it’s over, it’s over, and we can just go back to being friends, right?”

“Well, I think it’s probably better to know when to give this a rest, instead of constantly wondering if my best friend is set to be my long-term romantic partner, or whatever.” You had a point. But a part of Soobin didn’t feel ready to face the fact that you might not want to see him again like this. A much smaller part of him is still fearful that you two might not be able to turn back from this.

“Okay, okay, fine. We can check it–but not now. If we make it to a third date, then we can check how long we have. But you have to be honest and not touch it whatsoever.” Soobin doesn’t make any move to mention that he isn’t interested in seeing you again, but you don’t want to just assume that he’s into you, so you test the waters.

“Okay, I promise to be honest. But why the third date? Are you really that keen on seeing me?” You’re trying to be teasing, but you feel more desperate than anything.

Soobin doesn’t answer for a moment, and you think that you’ve said the wrong thing. Just as you’re about to apologize, he replies, “If we make it to a third date… then I’ll know whether we’re actually giving this a proper shot and not just for shits and giggles or as an escape from our other failed connections.”

His sincerity both surprises and flatters you, and you can’t tell if you’re supposed to be frozen in shock or hugging him, or a secret third thing, so you just stay still, absently fiddling with your fingers.

When you look up again, Soobin’s holding out his hand, and you look at him with obvious confusion. Rolling his eyes, he takes your hand in his, lips pursed into a thin line. You want to make some clever jab at him, but his hands are warm and soft and they practically swallow up your much smaller ones, and you’re filled with a wash of emotions so intense that you can’t muster up the strength to retort.

Soobin notices that you’re still visibly perplexed, and he mutters. “We’re on a date, you know. We’ve got to act the part.” It’s a half truth at best; he does want to give this date a proper chance, but selfishly, he really just wants to hold your hand for two hours. If you catch onto his white lie, you don’t show it, but he doesn’t miss the rosy hue that colors your cheeks as you nod.

He’s right, you think– it is a date, and you’re the one who swiped on him first, so the least you can do is treat him like a possible suitor and not just your best friend. He deserves that much, at least, and you need to know whether this bundle of butterflies in your stomach is a passing feeling or a dull ache you’ve forgotten about, so you let him lead you into the dimly lit array of fish tanks.

You’re noticing a lot of things about Soobin.

You notice that Soobin’s eyes practically twinkle when he gets excited. It’s never been something you’ve taken note of, but you can’t help but notice it now, every time he points out a species of fish he recognizes. It’s cute. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to find your best friend cute, but you do.

You notice how his comically long fingers slot in between yours, and you’re really starting to like how it feels, though you’d die of embarrassment if you admitted as much. 

Not to mention he’s an absolutely perfect gentleman. He’s constantly asking you if you want something to eat, if you’re tired, if you’re cold, and you let him know that you’re fine each time. When you accidentally pull apart your shoelaces, he’s quick to kneel down and tie them up for you. When he stops to grab himself a bottle of juice, he offers one to you, too.

Had Soobin always been this pretty? So cute? And so sweet? How had you never taken notice of him like this all these years? (You know the answer to that, but you’re still surprised at what you’re noticing nonetheless.)

Soobin catches you staring at him while you’re both supposed to be looking at a school of clownfish, and you expect him to make some egotistical joke at your expense, but instead he gives you a warm smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, and god dammit to hell, you melt. 

The two hours pass by like nothing, and unlike your past few dates, you’re dreading the end of it, and you wish that the beep signifying it’s over would never come. To your disappointment, he releases your hand as you approach the entrance, and your hand is already missing his warmth. You turn to face him; well, not really, because you can’t bear to make eye contact with him, not when you spent the better part of two hours shamelessly ogling at him.

His voice cuts in between the thoughts rattling around in your head, and he sounds so apprehensive that it worries you. “Can I ask you something? No, wait, can you promise me something?”

You know how seriously Soobin takes his promises, so you’re a little scared for what he’s going to say next, but you nod anyway.

“Promise me that if this doesn’t work out, we’ll still be friends. Please.” The last word is so quiet that you almost miss it, and when you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, he’s giving you a pleading look so earnestly that it breaks your heart a little. 

“I promise– no, I pinky promise. We’ll be friends, no matter what.”

Since he was younger, Soobin’s held the belief that pinky promises are binding, and he knows that you know this, so you hold out your pinky, hoping that this can ease whatever worries he has on his mind.

You pinky promised. Soobin knows that it’s your unspoken way of assuring him (you’ve never been the most verbally affectionate, anyways), a quiet way of letting him know that he means just as much to you as you do to him. He links pinkies with you to seal the promise, feeling just a little bit lighter as you both make your way to the subway station together, shoulders bumping all the while.

Soobin just really, really hopes that you’ll be able to keep that promise.

[How would you rate your date?]

[★★★★★]

Congratulations! Your next date is scheduled for 8pm tonight, at the Night Market.

You shouldn’t be surprised that your next date with Soobin comes so soon– you still have your weekly quotas to meet, and the app always schedules dates within 24 hours of matching or a positive rating, but truth be told, your surprise is solely because you just don’t know how to face him. You two had made that pinky promise to stay friends regardless of the circumstances, but you’d also resolved to treat him like a potential suitor while you two are seeing each other, so where does that leave you? 

Well, it leaves you in front of the closet with no idea what to wear. You want to look good (for Soobin, but you’re in denial at the moment), but it’s just a night market, and you know you’ll never hear the end of it if Soobin catches on that you went through lengths just to impress him.

Speaking of the devil, your phone flickers on to reveal a text from him, and you scoff as you scan its contents.

soob: so i hear you enjoyed our date

y/n noona: ignoring that. anyways

y/n noona: what’s the deal for tonight

y/n noona: i need to know asap

soob: aw, noona, do you want to see me again that badly? i’m excited, see you later tonight ♥️

y/n noona: shut up, you clearly want to see me again too. don’t be late or i’m stealing your wallet later 

y/n noona: i'm asking what’s the dress code, are we matching again :p

soob: i mean, if you insist… 🙄 i knew you wanted me

y/n noona: nvm you’re getting me in a hoodie and my raggedy sweats with the hole in the knee, fuck you

soob: no no i take it back i’m sorry 

y/n noona: ok fine you get spared just this once

y/n noona: [IMG_3687.jpg]

y/n noona: final outfit check. if we’re going to be matching it will be your decision so choose wisely

soob: wait that’s not fair

soob: noona come back

soob: DON’T LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THIS

[y/n noona has “Liked” your message]

soob: you are so mean to me

You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding when Soobin arrives, clad in a blue flannel that’s nearly identical to yours, black tee, beige cargos, and a black shoulder bag. You’d been hoping he would follow through, and there’s a small surge of pride at how you’ll be walking around the market, hand in hand, in matching outfits, but there’s something you hadn’t been counting on.

He’s wearing his glasses. 

You’ve always known that Soobin doesn’t have the best eyesight (he’s constantly squinting to see things, but so do you), but now that you’re seeing him in a new light, his usual black frames are suddenly the most attractive thing in the world, and you may as well be holding a neon sign that blares “I HEART NERDS” for him to see.

You make a painfully pathetic attempt to mask your delight by waving at him with a grin, and thankfully Soobin doesn’t notice, or if he does, he doesn’t make any show of it, and instead he simply salutes at you with two fingers and cracks a grin. As he sidles up to you, his large hand slips into yours with a little too much ease, fingers immediately interlocking with yours, and it sends your head into a frenzy all over again. As if he’s aware that your mind is going haywire, Soobin leans down towards you, and for a second you think he’s going to kiss you.

You’re frantically trying to make some motion to stop him, it’s so sudden and your cheeks are way too hot now, and he’s way too close, and your damn arms won’t budge–

“I hope you came ready to eat. I came armed with a fuck load of cash because I am going to stuff myself silly with food, and I am not getting turned away by the ‘cash only’ booths.” There’s a fire of determination in Soobin’s eyes, paired with a wide grin, and you don’t know whether to be concerned for him or for yourself, but nonetheless, you’re a little relieved that you completely misread the situation. Before you can say anything in response, though, he’s dragging you towards the sweeping lines of booths, already making a beeline for some takoyaki. 

The tray full of octopus balls in Soobin’s hands is steaming and they smell absolutely mouthwatering, and, in true Soobin fashion, he gets over excited and tries to pop the entire thing in his mouth in one go. He immediately regrets it, of course, because immediately he’s whining over the fact that his tongue is now most definitely burnt and numb from the piping hot orb of batter he’d just tried to scarf down. You might be finding him insanely attractive now, but he’s still as clumsy as ever, and you can’t stifle the laughter that bubbles in your throat at the sight.

“Dumbass… you should know damn well that you shouldn’t put a whole takoyaki in your mouth like that.” You tease, snickering as he fans his tongue once he swallows.

“Shut up! I couldn’t help myself!” He lets out a childish huff, stuffing another ball into his mouth with a comically exaggerated pout, and consequently huffing and puffing at the heat that blooms in his mouth once more. The whole display is undeniably adorable, and it takes all of the willpower you have to resist the burning desire to squish his cheeks. 

The tray of takoyaki is polished off in no time, and a bowl of bingsu, a cup of fish cake soup, two sticks of tanghulu, a plate of sweet rice cakes, an ice cream cone, and a million other things you lost track of follow suit into the bottomless pit that seems to be Soobin’s stomach. He wasn’t kidding when he said he came ready to eat– he’s plowing through the booths like it’s his last meal on Earth. He’s gracious enough to offer you half of his portions, at least, so it’s not like he’s leaving you to starve. (you’d kill him if he did, though.) Once he’s had his fill, his lips curl up into a mischievous grin as he jabs his thumb in the direction of a different section of the market, one filled with countless games: target shooting, beanbag toss, darts– the row of booths seems to stretch on forever. 

“Oh, you’re on, Soob. Don’t think I’m going easy on you because we’re on a date.”

“Yeah? Don’t think I’m going easy on you because you’re older.”

Contrary to both of your words, Soobin is absolutely fucking terrible at the beanbag toss, despite his long arms definitely giving him an advantage, and you’re no good at shooting or throwing and aiming at anything, really, so the two of you leave each booth with empty hands, though you’re laughing as if you’ve hit the jackpot.

Even though you two fail spectacularly at every single game they have available, you’re suddenly aware of how much your cheeks hurt. From smiling. From laughing. When was the last time that happened on a date? Or ever, even?

Soobin ventures off on his own while you’re lost in thought, and he returns from his little solo adventure with yet another serving of tanghulu (the third one of the night: strawberry for him, tangerine for you this time). You’re reaching out to grab the sweet from his outstretched hand, when suddenly you jump as loud popping sounds blare overhead. There’s a beat of silence before a flurry of colorful lights blooms in the sky, and your shoulders relax once you realize it’s just fireworks.

You’re admiring the colors and shapes of the fireworks display as you crunch on your tanghulu, and you’re so enraptured you almost miss the feeling of someone’s gaze on you. Almost.

When you turn to confirm your suspicions, you’re right, it’s Soobin who’s staring at you, but he’s staring at you so intently, with such intensity, that you immediately grow flustered– he’s never looked at you like that before– and you’re immensely thankful that the flashes of light in the sky mask the rosy hue that’s surely staining your cheeks. Just when you’re about to swing your head away to focus your attention on the fireworks once more, his hand flies out to cradle your chin in his palm, keeping your gaze fixated on him. 

Then he’s closing the distance, slowly but surely, fixated on you all the while to gauge your reaction, and even though you’re frozen in shock, you don’t think you would’ve moved, anyways. Your eyes flutter shut at the last minute, nerves getting the better of you, until his lips brush against yours tentatively, as if he’s hesitating, holding back.

You meet his gaze once more, and neither of you say a word, you just nod in response to the pleading look in his eyes, as if asking your permission. He breaks out into the most beautiful smile, one that you wish you could snap a mental photo of and tuck away in a safe place in your mind, and then he’s kissing you. Actually kissing you.

He kisses you with such fervor, as if he’s been wanting to do this his whole life, and you can’t help the way you practically melt in his hold, pressing yourself against his broad figure. The fireworks display is all but forgotten, the only thing on either of your minds being the way your lips meld into each other, and the way your hands clasp together.

Soobin’s in a daze when you two finally break away for a much-needed breath, and you’re sure you look like you’re in an equally hazy state. For a moment, you two are dead silent, staring at each other, with only the sound of your soft pants and the popping of fireworks in the background to fill the silence.

Soobin is the one who breaks the silence first, smiling sheepishly as he rubs the nape of his neck. “To be honest, I’ve… I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers, and you can feel your jaw go slack in shock. Soobin had been wanting to kiss you. Soobin has thought about kissing you. Your best friend Soobin wanted to kiss you.

“Why didn’t you?” You reply without thinking, but really, you know very well exactly why he’s never done it. He’s your best friend, always has been, and he’d be doing much more than fucking up your friendship by kissing you before you two matched. Naturally, Soobin leaves that question unanswered, posing a question of his own instead.

“What made you match with me?”

“Well…” You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to rattle off a list of qualities that make him desirable– you’re already feeling flustered enough after he kissed you like that, and you’re not looking to inflate his stupid ego or risk being the butt of his teasing. But you want to be honest with him. You don’t want him thinking his suppressed desire has been one-sided all this time.

“I guess I’ve always wondered what it would be like to go on a date with you. We wouldn’t be bored, we would know how to keep each other happy, and understand each other, that kind of thing… and I was a little tired of seeing you go through all those people you didn’t click with, who didn’t get you, especially not the way I did. You know I’ve never liked the people you were seeing, and I was always annoyed by the idiots you dated in high school, and all your stupid matches… I always thought everyone took you for granted, and no one seemed to care about actually getting to know you. I thought I was just looking out for you, caring about you, as your best friend, but maybe I was actually just jealous.”

“Jealous? Really?” He looks so incredulous it embarrasses you that you have to clarify further. 

“Yes, jealous… I especially hated what’s-her-name, Hyeji? That one student council girl who dumped you in front of the whole school.”

Soobin grimaces at the mention of her name, and you can’t help the relief you feel at his response. “Ugh, her. Led me on for months because she thought I was cute and then when we started dating she nitpicked every single thing I did, all because I wasn’t the suave drama lead of her dreams and then dumped me because she couldn’t change me. You know she threw away a whole pack of my Pokemon cards because she thought it was ‘too nerdy’?”

“See? This is what I mean. None of your romantic partners actually seem to appreciate you as you are. And so I don’t know, something came over me, and I wanted to see if I could do a good job because I  know I appreciate you for who you are and now I’m confused, and I feel like I’ve ruined our friendship forever, and–”

To your relief, Soobin doesn’t laugh– instead he cuts your rambling off with a quick kiss, and it flusters you into silence. “Shh. We promised, remember?”

“I mean, we also promised each other when we were in high school that we’d settle down and raise ten dogs on a farm together.”

Soobin laughs this time. “Yeah, I remember that. But this is a pinky promise, isn’t it? It’s different.”

“You’re right… but it’s scary, you know? Coming to this realization about you, and thinking about you this way, and enjoying it, but also worrying about how we’re going to get out of this after our relationship expires... I don’t want to get too carried away and change our dynamic forever.” You’re chewing the skin off your lower lip nervously (you never did break that habit, so now your lip is bleeding), and, while Soobin’s voice is gentle, you know him well enough to detect the subtle tremor as he speaks.

“I know. But we’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out. I won’t let anything remove you from my life for good. Especially not the watch.” His voice is so low, so quiet, you’d miss it if you weren’t fixated on him, as if he’s trying to convince himself, and you squeeze his hand in what you hope is an admirable attempt at reassuring him. “The app hasn’t told us our connection’s expired yet, so I just really, really want to give this a chance. A proper chance, so I can say I did it before I get matched with my ‘real’ soulmate, or whatever. I don’t want to think about what could have been, especially not with you. I think that’d be worse for us.”

You know exactly what he means. Harboring dormant feelings for your best friend never bodes well, at least not in the movies and the books, so you may as well get this pining out of your system, and let it become a distant memory as soon as possible, if it’s not meant to be. It’s only fair, for both of your futures, and for your friendship. (and though neither of you want to admit it, the thought of not being each other’s soulmates is depressing.)

“Look, Soob… I really want to give this a chance, too. I want to see where it takes us while we’re allowed to. I want to try. It’s scary, it’s fucking terrifying, but you’re my best friend, Soob. I promise you won’t lose me because of some stupid watch. Pinky promise.” You try to keep your voice upbeat as you hold out your pinky towards him, offering a tender smile. He links his pinky with yours, and you can see his frame visibly relax once he does. 

You rest your head on his shoulder, pinkies still linked, and silently hope that you’ll be able to uphold your promise to him. You’ve never been any good with breakups. Soobin knows that.

But you’ll be okay with him, right?

He’s your best friend, after all.

[How would you rate your date?]

[★★★★★]

…

Congratulations! Your next date is scheduled for 2pm tomorrow, at the Botanical Gardens.

Soobin decided on his own that he’s picking you up for the third date, and he let you know as much.  After last night’s events though, this means that you’re turning your entire closet upside down trying to find the sweet spot for your look today, because your head is jumbled with far too many thoughts, all of them about Soobin. Every outfit you think up is either too dressy, or too casual, or too out there, or too bland, and you have half a mind to reschedule with your mind in the state that it is. Unfortunately for you, Soobin is already on his way, and you’re not the type of asshole to tell him to head back home and forget the whole date, so you just stare at your pile of clothes on the floor, hoping that somehow you’ll be enlightened with the perfect outfit idea and get yourself looking presentable before he comes knocking.

The universe is clearly not on your side, though, because your doorbell rings not even a minute later, and all you’ve picked out is your jeans and you’re still very much topless. You shoot a message to Soobin, thumbs flying frantically as you let him know you’re not quite ready yet– he might be your best friend in the entire world, but you’re not ready for him to see you under your clothes just yet, especially now that you’re properly seeing each other.

You’re still not sure what to wear, but you figure a beige knit sweater should be safe– you won’t look like you’re trying too hard, but you also won’t look like you’re not trying at all. When you swing the door open to finally greet Soobin, your breath quite literally gets taken away, because he trips and almost knocks you over with his lanky frame, but also, he’s breathtaking.

He’s clearly put a lot of thought into his outfit, which is very cute, and he looks absolutely stunning. A sleek black cardigan with white striped accents on the sleeve, a white dress shirt that clearly looks freshly pressed– hell, he’s even wearing a tie– and those godforsaken glasses that have you in a chokehold somehow. You don’t even bother hiding your delight– he’s so beautiful, and you know he needs a little validation after he probably spent hours putting his look together.

He catches you staring wordlessly, and he flushes with embarrassment.“What? Too much? I knew I should have skipped on the tie–” He grumbles, making a move to loosen it, but he’s stopped by your hand over his.

“No. You look great, Soob. Seriously.” You’re not used to being verbally affectionate, especially not with him, but when he looks that sad, like a kicked puppy, you know better than to tease him when he’s unsure of himself. Despite that, you’re still shy as you reassure him. “You look beautiful.”

The way he brightens when he hears your words is almost cartoonish, and this time, you can’t hold back your laughter, which earns a pout from him, which in turn only fuels your laughter further. You appease him by lacing your fingers with his (he’s apparently a lot easier to please than you remember, but maybe that’s your imagination), and he responds by placing a kiss to the back of your hand. The gesture is tender and sweet, and you think about what it’d be like to have Soobin do that to you every day.

“Well, shall we?” He bows exaggeratedly with his free arm, giving you a blinding smile.

You mirror his smile, and playfully curtsy in return. “We shall.”

When you two arrive at the botanical gardens, it’s jam-packed with people (a worker explains that their tulips are in full bloom, so everyone’s vying for their social media moment), and Soobin is visibly startled, though he recovers quickly as he turns to you. 

“You okay? There’s so many people... I think this is twice, maybe even thrice as many people as there were at the night market.” You don’t do well with crowds, the crowd at the night market was probably the most you could handle, but you know that you don’t have a choice– you have to follow through with the date as scheduled, or risk a fine that neither of you can afford, so you just nod, your grip on his hand tightening. 

Soobin somehow finds a slightly less crowded area of the tulip fields for you two to stroll in after doing a quick sweep (thank god for his height, and that he uses it to his advantage), but you still feel tense as you walk hand in hand. There’s still a decent amount of people, with more spilling in excitedly, phone cameras in hand, and you have a bad feeling the crowd will only grow in size as the day drags on. You just hope you’re as convincing an actress as you think you are, and that Soobin won’t notice as he reads the identification cards for each flower.

You’re caught off guard when he gently pushes you down onto a nearby bench, and crouches in front of you, clasping your other hand in his so that both of them are occupied. The concerned expression on his face tells you that you’re nowhere near an Oscar for your performance, and that he’s most definitely caught on to your discomfort. Normally you’d be embarrassed at the display– you hate making a scene in public, but your anxiety is getting the better of you, and it’s nice to know that he still knows you as well as you thought.

“Noona… look. I know you don’t like crowds, especially excitable and hectic ones like these. If you really, really feel like this is too much for you, we can cancel the date and go home. I want you to have a good time, and I know it’s hard for you when there’s so many people.”

You’re chewing at your lower lip again, and Soobin lets go of one of your hands to thumb at your lip to stop you before you tear it open with your teeth. “But Soob, we came all this way. And you dressed so nicely for me, for this date, and I spent all this time wanting to look good for you, and spend time with you…” You trail off when your breath catches in your throat, your chin trembling as your eyes well up. “It’d be such a waste to cancel after all our time and effort.”

Once again Soobin’s thumb is gently swiping over your cheeks when the tears finally spill over, hushing you with the soft sincerity that he’s prone to when he’s not teasing you. 

“Hey, hey… we can reschedule for another day, can’t we? We don’t have to do this, noona. There’s always next time. It won’t be a waste, I promise.” You feel so apologetic you could die. Soobin’s being so patient and sweet and understanding with you and here you are, kicking up a fuss. The least you could do is power through and follow through with your scheduled date, and you’d hate to miss out on this time with him that you’ve been looking forward to. You were excited for this date, and you want him to know that.

“I think I’d feel worse if we cancelled after we went through all this trouble, and especially if it was all because of me… just give me a moment to calm myself down.” Soobin nods in response, cradling your cheek in his palm, and you sigh appreciatively at the tender gesture. He doesn’t say anything as you wipe away the remnants of your tears and blow your nose– he just holds your hand, letting you gather yourself, and you think for a moment that this must be the benefit of falling for your best friend.

Once the tears have finally subsided, and you’ve had a moment to calm your nerves, you meet Soobin’s eyes, which are searching yours, as if scanning for any lingering signs of discomfort. When he can’t find any, and you give him a reassuring look and a grateful smile, he seizes the opportunity to steal a peck from your lips, grinning cheekily with his tongue between his teeth when he pulls away. 

“H-hey! What was that for?!” Your shock and surprise is real, but your indignance certainly isn’t, if your rosy cheeks are any indication. Your discomfort is forgotten, at least temporarily, so you’re glad for that.

“Oh… just because. You liked it, though.” He’s so smug, that stupid asshole, but he’s right, so you pull him in for another quick kiss before you try to make a run for it. Unfortunately for your escape plan, you’ve forgotten that your hand is still very much interlocked with his, and he’s significantly stronger than you, so he easily pulls you back into his embrace. You can’t say you mind, though– he’s warm and he smells good, like jasmine and sandalwood and the faint scent of vanilla, and if you weren’t already so flustered you’d bury your face in his broad chest.

“Feeling better now?” The words fall from Soobin’s lips with a teasing lilt, but you know it’s his way of genuinely checking in on you, so you answer sincerely.

“Much better. Though I’d still like to avoid the crowds and find somewhere else to have our date… if you don’t mind? The tulips are pretty, and as much as I would like to admire them too, there’s just so many people fighting for a good photo…” 

“Of course, I get it. I saw a sign pointing to a field of azaleas over there that is probably getting a lot less foot traffic than the tulips, so we could head over there?” He gestures in the opposite direction of the tulip field, and you’re more than happy to oblige, letting him tug you along.

Thankfully Soobin’s guess is correct, because there’s only a handful of people at the azalea field when you two arrive, and the tension in your shoulders finally lets up. The dainty red and pink flowers have their own quaint charm, and they’re vibrant and eye-catching. You crouch down to get a closer look, taking hold of a delicate petal in between the pads of your fingers to admire them.

“Did you know red and pink azaleas represent love and romance? Roses aren’t the only flower of love like everyone seems to think.” Soobin’s deep voice rings in your ear and you startle a little, partially because he’s way closer to you than you expected (it’s going to be a while before you get used to maintaining close proximity with him) and partially because you had no idea Soobin was just casually carrying the knowledge of flower meanings in that pretty head of his.

“They’re so pretty… they’d make a much more unique gift than roses for special occasions, too. Not that there’s anything wrong with roses, but they’re kind of done to death, don’t you think?”

Instead of answering, Soobin looks both ways, then plucks a flower, and you hiss in disapproval at him. “Hey–! What are you doing? The sign says that we can’t pick the flowers!” Luckily, none of the staff has taken notice of his mischievous little act, but even if they did, you can’t help but wonder if they’d even care, when he could charm his way into anything.

Soobin tucks the flower behind your ear, seemingly ignoring your disapproval as he hums a tune under his breath. “A gift for our special occasion, and a little commemoration of our budding romance, or something. And look, noona, you’re so pretty. Just like a flower.” He punctuates his statement with the sound of his phone camera flashing, followed by four more, until you’re blushing profusely with embarrassment.

“Soobin, that’s enough–” Your cheeks are beet red– you can feel it from the sheer amount of blood running into them– and though you really like that Soobin’s taking pictures of you for him to keep, you’re extremely camera shy, and he knows that, which is probably why he’s so insistent.

“Actually, the issue is that I didn’t take enough. Now smile for the camera!” You have to practically wrestle your way away from the camera, but not before he snaps a few more of you smiling bashfully at him. He catches up to you with ease (damn those long legs of his), arms secure around your frame as you squeal, though you’re secretly pleased that you’re in his hold.

The time once again ticks by like nothing as you walk side by side, admiring the blooms around you and snapping photos of each other (“For wallpaper usage purposes,” Soobin says, and you blush again), and before you know it, your watches are beeping to signify that your two hours are up. Soobin sobers up almost immediately, expression unreadable, and though he doesn’t say anything as he takes your hand, you know what’s on his mind, because the same thing is on yours.

There’s a palpable tension hanging in the air once the two of you reach the entrance of the gardens– it’s the third date, after all, and you promised you’d find out your expiration date if you made it this far. You’re relieved that your watches haven’t blared just yet, signifying the end of your connection, but you’re still struck with the nervousness of finding out how long you’ll last. You think you’ll never get over it if you only get a few months– or worse, a few days with him– after all this secret pining and yearning.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Soobin was somehow eerily calm about the whole thing. But you do know better, and you know that he’s just trying to put on a brave face for you, and for himself. The two of you open Time to Love in silence, hands still interlocked, swiping to the ‘Love Countdown’ tab with your free hands, and brace yourselves. Soobin gives you a reassuring nod, and you respond back with what you hope is an equally reassuring smile, and that your expression doesn’t betray the fear bubbling deep within you.

Soobin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “Okay, on the count of three,”

“One…” “Two…”

“Three!”

When both of you tap the in-app tab, there isn’t an array of numbers indicating an expiration date with a ticking countdown, as you expected and had grown accustomed to on your previous dates– in fact, there isn’t a single number on the screen– and instead there’s an infinity sign.

You two don’t have an expiration date.

You and Soobin look at each other, then at your watches, then at each other again. 

“Wait, we don’t have an expiration date–”

Then the realization dawns on both of you, and it hits you like a truck.

“Wait, we’re soulmates?!”

Both of you are sporting the same bewildered expression, and you both go to check your progress bars, just to be sure– they’re full, just as you’d expect after being matched with your soulmate. So that’s why your watch alarms haven’t gone off. You two were the one in a million. Once the shock finally wears off, it’s replaced with pure, unbridled joy, and when Soobin sweeps you off your feet to gather you in his arms, there’s an emotion bubbling in you that’s equal parts unfamiliar and yet welcome.

You’d thought all this time, all these years, that there was no way you should feel this way about your best friend, of all people. That you shouldn’t fuck this up, because Soobin has always been there for you, and you’ve always been there for him. As his friend. As your friend. 

But here is the universe, telling you that you’re fated to love him, and that he’s fated to love you in return. 

And love him you do. You love Soobin. And when you look at him, and see the way he’s looking at you, with fondness practically dripping from his gaze, you know he loves you too. 

Maybe the watch really is bullshit. Maybe it is statistically impossible to decide someone’s life partner based on an algorithm.

But maybe it’s onto something, because it seems silly to have ever thought of being with anyone except Soobin. You never would’ve thought to look for your forever right next to you, and yet, here he is, in the flesh. Was it a coincidence that he made it onto your recommended matches that fateful night? Was it a coincidence that he felt the same way you did?

Soobin’s lips capture yours in a searing kiss, and you melt in his heat, kissing him back with a fierce fervor, as if desperately communicating the depth of the feelings you’ve let build up silently after all these years. You decide that there’s no such thing as coincidences– he’s always known what’s best for you, and you’ve always wanted what’s best for him. You just didn’t know that the answer to both of those things was each other.

“I love you, noona.” He whispers with a bashful, dimpled smile, and your heart swells.

“I love you too, Soob.”

Soobin has always been counting down to something. 

To the end of another grueling workday, the next League of Legends patch update, to anything, so he always has something to look forward to. But he’s never looked forward to this.

The love countdown has always been something he despised and dreaded– he’s always wanted to be the master of his own fate, without the shackles of the app tying him down with each new connection. He’d always thought that his soulmate would be some poorly matched individual who he’d have a mediocre life with, but all that seems to be proven wrong as he looks at you.

He hates being wrong. But when he sees the way you smile, the way you regard him with the utmost love and affection in your gaze, the way you hold his hand as if you’ll lose him if you let go– he thinks he’s willing to concede defeat, at least this time.

Maybe that stupid watch does know a thing or two about love. Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe this is all just pure coincidence. But despite it all, Soobin is thankful that this is where he ends up. That both of you had been counting down all this time to each other. 

Because if there's anyone he can count on in this world, it's you.

[cherrycranes]

A Real Man (Jim x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Jim (The Delinquent Season) x Fem!Reader Summary: Dating apps frustrate you. However, one night you decide to try something new and match with an older man. Word count: 4,105 Contents: (Minors DNI). Jim is divorced here. Age gap (Reader is in her 20's, Jim is 43), Oral sex (fem receiving), P in v, unprotected sex, creampie. Author's notes: Another collab with @fuckiingloser cause we are such a dream team! Expect more collabs with her cause she's so amazing. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Enjoy!

It was another dull Friday night with no plans. Your last relationship had ended 6 months ago and since then you hadn't been into going out with your old mutual friends. So once more, you found yourself laying on the couch in pajamas watching reality TV and eating a frozen pizza. Six episodes later, even your favorite show had started to bore you. Enough to make you open the Tinder app. 

You had a complicated relationship with it. Constantly deleting and redownloading it in an ever disappointing vicious cycle. Tonight, it was back on square one as you started to swipe through… Just to look of course. 

Unimpressed, you scrolled through the endless profiles of dozens of men you had seen multiple times before. The same guys holding a fish in their profile pictures, the same boring bios, the same social void. Bored with what you saw, a daring idea crossed your mind: going into the settings and raising the age limit… Why not? 

A whole new sea of men popped up in front of your eyes and you started to swipe through, mindlessly scrolling and reading through mundane responses and cringy pickup lines. Until one guy piqued your interest… 

Jim, 43, 2 miles away…

He had very few pictures and minimal responses, but fuck, he was insanely hot. The gentle smile, the pale blue eyes, the dark brown hair with some silvery strands here and there.. You swiped right. 

You browsed a bit more before setting your phone down on the couch. Another episode of your show had started to play and your gaze migrated from one screen to another. Ten minutes later, the sound of the notification made you return.

1 new match and message from Jim. Start convo!

Usually, you would have just swiped, but you felt compelled to message back for some inexplicable reason that just felt right. You opened the app to his message:

“hey… hope your friday night is going well x”

You smiled a little reading the cute message, an adorable reminder that this Jim guy was older. Still, it was that same cuteness that drew your thumbs to the screen and made your brain search for the perfect response. Ideally something cute and casual.

“hey to you too & my fridays good just bored at home. what are you up to?” You sent. Not even 30 seconds passed before you got another message from him. 

“just at home as well… not big on going out, prefer to stay home with a nice cabernet and listen to a few records.”

He responded simply and your smile widened. You looked over at your own pile of records displayed in your living room before returning to the conversation. He was older, sweet and you had a shared interest? Promising. Before you could respond another message popped up:

“forgive me if this is too forward…im not familiar with dating app etiquette.. first day but would you like to come over? just drinks and talking… if not totally okay too.”

Your first reaction after the initial surprise was an obvious no. It seemed logical. He was a stranger and you had just matched a few minutes ago. But another look at his pictures planted the benefit of the doubt in your mind… His sweet shy smile… The soft brown hair… Perhaps going over for just one drink wouldn't be bad. He was only 2 miles away and all your friends had your location. Besides, you felt lonely and he was definitely very cute… 

“i’d like that, what’s your address?” 

You responded. Perhaps a risky decision that, in the best case scenario, would help you to put yourself out there. Optimism had to crawl its way into your brain for this. Your previous misfortune with dating apps and guys your age acting as a key motivator. Maybe trying with an older man could give you a nice surprise.

Now decided, you got up from the couch and freshened up. You did your make up, hair and changed outfits. Changing the comfy pajamas for a pair of black jeans and a cropped green button up sweater that showed off your cleavage just right and left a little stripe of your midriff showing.

The message notification with his address greeted you just as you picked up your phone again. His apartment was a brief walk away from yours.

“be there in 15 minutes”

You messaged back, eyes back on the mirror for some final touches before finally heading out.

The walk was peaceful enough for you to process everything. Your understandable nerves soothed by your own excitement and the thrill of trying something different for a change. All the fears that could have plagued your head willingly subdued to curiosity. The beat of your heart sped up when you reached the door number indicated on your screen and you gave the wood a couple of soft knocks.

Lo and behold, those beautiful eyes greeted you not long after, along with that charming soft smile that was definitely worth the risk already. Jim was wearing a cozy black sweater and his glasses. His soft brown hair fell perfectly over his forehead. It was long enough to have some cute flicks curving up the side of his handsome face. You couldn't help but return the smile.

“Please, come in.” His voice was deep, warm, with the right amount of maturity to it. His stance and mannerisms were inviting and trustworthy. Something about him spelled  “comforting” as he held the door open for you and kindly indicated to you where you could put your shoes.

Up the stairs was this man's living room. Just as you imagined, it suited him to perfection. It was neat and well put together. The color palette was dusky and masculine but not in a threatening way. He was rather practical judging by his choice of furniture.

“Your place is nice.” You complimented, taking a look around. Jim smiled, making his way to his kitchen and coming back to you with a brand new bottle of wine and a glass for you. To accompany the one already set on the sleek coffee table.

“Thanks.” He looked at you with a soft smile and led you over to the chic leather couch. “Only been here about a year or so, still trying to make my space my own.” He sat down, facing you. With expertise he opened the wine bottle and poured a perfect measure in your glass.

“Cabernet Sauvignon from 2019.” He explained, the warm little smile never leaving his lips as he now poured himself some. You nodded, choosing to ignore your own ignorance about wine. The sips you both took right after assured you that you didn’t really need to know anyways, as he had great taste. For the night, you were all set in the drinks department.

“So… I have to ask… Is this what you do to all of your tinder dates?” You chuckled, lightening the mood a little.

“Fancy bottle of wine, moody lighting and records?”. He laughed a bit, and you discovered just how attractive a laugh could be. “No, actually I've never had a tinder date before tonight… I made my profile this morning.”

You raised your eyebrows a little, finding it quite shocking.

“Really?” You asked him and soon, you knew the reason why. Jim explained his past, telling you how he used to be married and had two children. He had been divorced for about a year now. You listened carefully, finding his openness quite refreshing.

“I'm sorry, that was probably too much heavy information for a first date huh?” Jim shook his head a little at himself, and you intervened.

“No… Don’t apologize.” You looked right into his baby blue eyes behind his glasses with earnesty. “I appreciate the honesty… Hard to find nowadays in men.”

He smiled, his demeanor shifting a little, something about him relaxing.

“Well, good.. I wouldn't want to say anything to blow it so fast with you.” Your heart skipped a beat upon hearing that. A very gentle warmth rose to your cheeks and made you look away in shyness. Your eyes found his record collection as a brand new target to focus on.

“I actually… Collect records too.” You uttered, finding your cool again. You glanced back at him and found that his eyes had lightened up a bit. 

“Ah, really? I love that… You can pick out the next one we play if you want.” He talked softly and you were all smiles. You set your glass of wine down on the coffee table and walked over to his well organized shelves. He separated his records by artist. The ones whose discography you knew by heart telling you that he sub-organized by order of release. You felt something fluttering inside you every time you saw a title you adored. 

His eyes were on you at every moment, studying your shape and colors while your fingers ran over the spines of the records. Finally, one won the selection game and you carefully pulled it out, showing it to him. He smiled, clearly satisfied.

“Good choice… Let me put it on.” He got up from the couch and walked over to you, taking the record from you gently. The touch of his hand met yours and butterflies ran rampant in you. His soft smirk and warm gaze multiplied them.

“Beautiful and has great taste…” He mused. “I’m a lucky guy.” The record met the player and the first track started as Jim led you back to the couch. He topped off your wine glasses and smiled, more than comfortable in your presence.

The wine bottle ran out after a while. The conversation led through a relaxed and flirty direction. Jim was smart, kind, understanding and so handsome. Your body felt the magnetism between you. When you next noticed, you two were closer than before, your eyes sneaked several glances towards his pink lips and the record you had chosen started to play its last track. You had been talking for over an hour. The fastest one of your life.

It had been half a year since you felt this drawn to somebody. The same amount of time since you had last gotten laid. Perhaps it was the wine, but you felt a heat boiling deep between your legs that clung desperately to the prospect of him touching you.

“You know… I’d be lying if I said I didn't find you incredibly sexy…” He confessed in a soft, sultry murmur and with a heavenly smile. He took another sip, those eyes of his never lost sight of you.

“I'd be lying if I said I didn't think the exact same.” You replied, the wine feeding into your boldness. 

“Do you usually like older men?” He asked bluntly with a soft smirk, eager for your answer.

“Honestly, I've really only ever dated guys around my age. But, I’ve always been interested in older men… Just haven’t given it a proper go… Until now that is.” You admitted with a little laugh that prompted one from him too.

“Well… I’m glad you took a chance and came over, gorgeous…” Jim’s words felt like rich velvet in your ears and like an intoxicating need that made you burn. “I'd love to show you how being with a real man can feel…” He whispered, putting his large hand on your thigh over your jeans. 

The action, combined with his voice and his gaze made your pussy clench around nothing and dampen eagerly. The wine, the flirting, the proximity, the last notes of the song. It all got to you two. His thumb slowly moved back and forth over the denim. His hand stayed planted on your thigh rubbing it so softly. 

“Show me… Don’t just tell me…” You whispered back sensually, taking in the depth of his eyes.

Without another word he leaned forward and captured your lips in a hot, searing kiss. So slow yet so passionate. Incomparable to any kiss you had received in your lifetime. His big hand moved up to cradle your cheek and you melted into it. After a few minutes he gently pulled back just to whisper against your lips:

“I'd love to have a taste of your sweet little cunt…”

Your brain went absolutely blank for a moment, trying to process. When you did, you bit your lip and reminiscenced before looking back at him.

“My ex hated doing it..” You admitted with a soft little chuckle. It was ridiculous now even if back then it was a major frustration of yours. Jim, on the other hand, shook his head and scoffed gently.

“That's a boy… Not a man… Let me show you how a real man pleases a beautiful woman...” He whispered and slowly pushed you back onto the couch, laying you down. You looked up at him, finding him smiling as he undid the button of your jeans followed by your zipper. Careful hands tugged the denim down your legs and tossed them on the otherwise cleared floor.

“I want to see this sexy body…” He leaned over to you, his breath caressing your exposed skin and his hands patiently working the buttons of your sweater. He pushed it open, revealing your black lace bra. His eyes raked over the shape, a low growl of approval rumbled in his throat. The slightly calloused tips of his fingers traced slowly over the lace and down to your stomach, stopping right at the hem of your matching thong.

“Jesus, you’re a vision… You’ve got me hard as a rock” He practically groaned to you and your eyes fell to his obvious hard on through his pants. Before you gathered the correct words to respond, Jim laid his head between your legs and planted a soft kiss over your clothed pussy, making you moan at the light contact. His hands reached up and pulled your thong off you, as if he was unwrapping the most delicate of presents. 

“Mmm… Look at that… I can see how wet you are already.” He whispered straight to your cunt. “Did I do that?.”

“Yes..” You nodded once and breathed out. Your pulse was deliciously fast and your pussy was already dependent on him.

“I bet you taste even better than you look, pretty girl...” He murmured before licking a fat stripe up your wet folds. You moaned loudly at the feeling. “Mmm” he hummed. “I could spend all night right here…” He whispered the last words of his you would hear in a short while before leaning back in. His hot tongue dove even deeper into your sweet cunt. Your hand immediately found his soft hair and gripped his brown locks, bracing yourself, for he would devour you like you were his last meal on earth.

“Oh-oh my god!” Your cries were as exquisite as your pussy was. His mouth was skilled and ravenous with you. Your hand tightened on his hair when his tongue found its way to your clit and drew perfect circles around it. The electric sensation traveling all over your lower stomach and intensifying when his lips sucked on your tender flesh. He hummed happily at the way you moaned. To keep you in place, he gripped your thighs and pushed them farther apart. Getting deeper. His tongue slided down and circled your entrance with both indulgence and reverence. And you felt your brain melting into a warm puddle of desire.

“God, this cunt is so wet for me… You taste like heaven.” He pulled back to whisper against your folds before diving right back in. 

You moaned loudly, shamelessly, and Jim absolutely loved it. His tongue rewarded you for being such a good little slut for him by sliding deeper inside.

“Oh fuck-“ You cried out in surprise, and he took it as a sign. He worked his way up, nibbling on your clit again and again. Your entire cunt was coated with his spit and your own arousal, The feeling in your lower abdomen was driving you wild, you tugged on his hair. Your orgasm built inside you and threatened to boil over.

“If y-you don’t stop- i’m gonna come.” You cried out to deaf ears. Jim continued to devour you like a starved man, making the filthiest wet noises as he sucked and tongue-fucked you. You squirmed on the couch, and he pulled back just enough to finally talk.

“God, you taste so fuckin good.” He moaned. “Sweet like honey, baby...” He completely ignored what you had just said and dived back in. His swirling tongue drilled against your overwhelmed cunt. The edge of his nose bumped your clit and teased it strategically. This man wanted you to come. He needed you to come for him.

“Oh my god- Jim!” You whined so loudly, you could have sworn the words reverberated in the living room. Your entire body was succumbing to the building pressure, surrendering all control.

“Come for me baby… Come on my tongue.” He urged, as if his life depended on feeling you coming on his mouth. He placed wet kisses on your pussy, encouraging the fire within you. The grip you had on his hair became stinging on his scalp and your legs trembled under his hands. Your entire body tingled as the knot in your depths reached its tightest state.

“I'm coming… I'm coming!” You repeated frantically, desperately. You arched into his mouth and closed your eyes. A loud whorish moan, unheard of from you before blessed his ears and, finally, your intense orgasm satisfied you and his hungry mouth.

“Holy shit.” You breathed out. He lapped your release and practically moaned into your pussy as he did. He licked everything clean and you slowly came down from the height of your orgasm, looking down at him as he finally pulled away. 

He pulled back, kneeling between your legs with a proud wet and sticky mouth. He licked his lips, his eyelashes fluttered at your taste. Finally, he showed you a sexy smirk and whispered sensually:

“I hope this little pussy feels half as good as it tastes…” 

You smiled, and he didn’t beat around the bush. His hands took care of the button on his pants and his zipper.

“Now I need you to be a good girl and sit on my cock… a real man makes his girl come twice...” He nearly growled, pushing his pants down and kicking them off. His boxers followed suit. His cock sprung free in all its glory and you gasped. It was painfully ready and throbbing for you.

“Fuck…” You whispered and he smiled proudly.

“Might be a tight fit… But I'm sure we’ll make it work… Won’t we?” He whispered sensually, his hand touching your thigh. 

“Yes please…” You find yourself saying back to him without even thinking, his sexy confident demeanor putting you in a trance. Something no other man had ever provoked in you.

He smirked and sat down on his couch, his hands taking yours and pulling you right onto his lap. You straddle him, a soft giggle escapes your lips.

“This bra needs to go... Wanna see all of this perfect body…” His voice sounded raspier and his eyes much hungrier. On cue, you unclipped your bra and slowly allowed it to join the rest of your clothes and make a mess out of his living room floor. The sight of your breasts made his beautiful eyes widen and his pupils dilate.

“Fuck, you’re sexy… I need to be inside you.” He thought out loud. A part of him still didn’t believe you were there, completely naked for him, sitting on his lap. 

You looked between you, meeting his hard leaking cock that was so desperate to feel you around it.

“I'm on the pill...” You looked him in the eye. “I want you to come inside…” A mixture of boldness and shyness painted the tone of your voice, and Jim grinned sensually.

“Mmm… Naughty girl… Whatever you want… ” He whispered and you leaned back, your cunt ready to take him in. He lined himself up, teasing you by rubbing his tip against your wet folds and effectively coating himself in you. Finally, you sank down. You both moaned in unison. It was heaven.

“Fuck, you’re tight-” He groaned to you and you sank down. His hands firmly found your hips and guided you down. You moaned in response, biting your lip at the feeling of him stretching your tight cunt. After a second of much needed adjustment, you started riding him in a perfect rhythm. His cock hit you sinfully deep.

With eyes locked, you leaned forward and stole a passionate, sloppy kiss from him, which he eagerly returned. You made out feverishly, his arms wrapping around your body holding you so tight and fucking you good.

Jim pulled back from the kiss, planting his feet on the ground for some much needed leverage before starting to pound ruthlessly from underneath you. You yelped and moaned and bounced on his hard cock.

“You like feelin’ full of my cock?” He asked between heavy panting. “This tight cunt like being stretched out by a real man?”

“Yes-fuck yes…” You moaned to him before moaning once more. He pounded on you so deeply and much faster now. Your hands on his shoulders clung to him for some stability. The sounds of skin slapping became much louder than the record on the player ever was. It was overwhelmingly filthy but incredibly erotic.

As you fucked and kissed harder and harder with each thrust, it became apparent that this was not going to last long. The feeling of your tight, wet pussy was driving him too insane.

“I’m gonna fill this pussy.” He moaned into your mouth, making you nod eagerly.

“Yes-yes please.” You begged him with an intensity sourced from your now throbbing cunt. His movements got sloppier, faster. He plowed into you from below as hard as he could.

 “Jesus- not gonna last long- you feel too good…” Jim was running out of breath, but his hips never faltered. You felt just the same, that feeling inside you building up once more. Decided, he held your hips together, sinking his nails into your flesh and found the energy to pound into you even harder than before, hitting that perfect sweet spot deep inside of you.

You whimpered pathetically at the repeating feeling, your cunt throbbed around him in automatic, making him groan.

“So. Fucking. Deep.” You moaned in between his hard thrusts. “I-I’m gonna come...” Your whimpers came already strained and forceless. The dripping sensation between your bodies made you dangerously close.

“Mmm me too baby… You want me to come deep?” His warm voice was hoarse and strained, his cock twitched inside you whenever you clenched. That deep eye contact and lust intertwined with the feeling of your sweet spot harshly meeting the tip of his cock over and over again. It made your toes curl and your lower stomach tighten. 

Throwing your head back, your pussy clenched him tight. You moaned loud and dug your nails on his skin, the promised second orgasm hitting you hard.

“Come deep..” You begged him with an out of breath voice and shivering legs. Jim’s eyes lit up, watching just how beautiful you looked in that post-orgasmic bliss. It set him off. And watching you beg for his cum completely disarmed him.

“Holy fuck.” He breathed out, feeling his body give in to pleasure. His hips slowed and nested his cock in your depths, right before coming out of control.Your fluids and your breaths mixed together, his perfect blue eyes connected with yours.

His cock pulsed, and he emptied inside you with a soft groan. His lips found yours just barely, lingering there.

“Feels so good to fill you..” He whispered, his hot cum spilling into you. Your hand moved to the back of his head, your fingers in his soft brown locks. Relaxed, you shared a soft sensual kiss, basking in the afterglow of the best sex either of you had ever had. 

Pulling away from the kiss and putting your foreheads together, you sit there naked in his living room. Some drops of his cum dripped onto the leather couch. A few minutes passed and you recovered from your orgasms. Jim gave you a cheeky grin. His fingers tucked a piece of hair behind your ear tenderly before his warm voice whispered softly against your lips.

“So tell me…” He looked deeply into your eyes. “How did it feel to finally be with a real man?”

Btw, by the request of a friend, I also made a c.ai version of this fic for you to choose your own story.

[starsinthesky5]

wanna get out of here? | joe burrow x reader

description: an impromptu getaway is exactly what you and joe needed

a/n: ahhh my second fic!! all the love on my first one gave me the motivation to go and write another one :) i hope you all like this one!

warnings: smut (hope it’s not too bad since it’s my first time writing it LOL), language

word count: 6 k

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Wednesday 

The sounds of hammering rain and thunder were all you could focus on as you were sitting on the couch, curled up in a blanket trying to finish an overly complex project for work. You had been trying to finish the final section for the past week but you simply could not get rid of the restless feeling that had engulfed you over the past few days. 

Joe, on the other hand, was sitting right next to you. He was staring at the TV which had on some random rerun episode of The Office. Normally, he’d be laughing along to the show no matter how many times he had seen the episode, but today he was quiet & agitated. He had been overwhelmed this past month with intense rehab for his wrist injury; on top of which he had his off-season workouts every day which had also been incredibly vigorous. He was mentally and physically burnt out and needed something to take his mind off of everything. He noticed that you also had been swamped with work which caused you to be on edge the whole week, preventing you two from having any real 1 on 1 time like you usually do, and he wasn’t having it. 

You were typing away on your computer, another idea that would probably lead to nothing, before you heard the TV turn off. 

You turned your head to Joe and saw his blank face. “Everything Okay?” you questioned while reaching for his hand. 

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked while interlocking your hands, still looking expressionless. 

“Joey there is literally a monsoon happening outside right now,” you deadpanned as you squeezed his hand. 

“Not out there. I mean do you wanna get out of Ohio?”.

“Who are you and what have you done with my fiancee,” you laughed. 

“What?” he asked, looking quizzical as if he had no idea why you said that.

“You, the same man that never leaves his house unless it’s business or football related. And sometimes due to a forced social activity, or occasionally to have fun, wants to leave Ohio? You’re practically a turtle that stays in its shell all day,” you say before going back to your work project. 

Joe is slightly taken aback by what you said. Deep down he knows you aren’t wrong, he doesn’t go out very often, which made what he said next even more necessary. 

“Let’s go to the Bahamas this weekend. I can call up Ted and get a jet here and we can leave Friday morning. I’m thinking we stay at a lowkey house on a private beach for maybe 4 days,” he says.

You think he’s just messing with you but when you look over at him, he looks serious. 

“Where is this coming from?” you say with worry in your voice. In the 5 years, you and Joe have been together, he’d never sprung an idea of a vacation on you by himself, it was always mutual. And you’d never left the States before either. You close your computer and turn to face him. 

“I’m just so fucking tired,” he says with a sigh. “These past few weeks have been really intense and I just need a break.” 

Your face drops as he continues. He’d been under so much pressure lately with OTA’s slowly approaching and training amping up; plus all the background noise. He’d start throwing in the next month or so and deep down he was nervous. He didn’t know how it was going to go and if all this rehab was even worth it if he was never going to be able to get back to where he was. 

“And you’ve been stressed out all week because of work and it feels like we haven’t had just ‘us’ time,” he adds. 

Joe was right. He’d be gone all day with either rehab or workouts and the only time you two would get together would be dinner. And by dinner, you’d be too exhausted to do anything but eat and rush off to bed. 

You spend a few moments contemplating his offer. It would be nice to get away for a few days and you both needed the change of environment badly. 

“Okay, let’s do it," you say with a smile as you pull him in for a hug. 

“But just so you know, since we’d be leaving in 2 days, I’m going to be an absolute nightmare when it comes to packing,” you say before planting a kiss on his cheek. 

“Oh, I'm well aware. You only get 2 days to stress about packing and not a whole week like usual,” he laughs. 

Thursday Evening 

You both spent the majority of the day planning your impromptu vacation. You found the perfect beach house on the other side of Nassau, away from the main part of the island. It was hidden by palm trees and had a private beach which made it easy to unwind without any prying eyes. You would spend the week there and pick out a few activities nearby to occupy your time. You also chose a few places to eat although you both decided to cook at home for the majority of your stay. 

Currently, you were sitting on your closet floor attempting to pack your suitcase but were majorly failing. Packing was never your strong suit, especially if you had to pack the day before a trip. The closet looked like a war zone, things were everywhere. 

“This is the wrong time to not be able to find anything,” you say to yourself while getting up once again to hunt for missing items. 

Joe walked into the closet and saw you frantically pacing back and forth looking for something. 

“Babe, are you Okay?” He asked while sitting down on the stool. 

“Have you seen my new white bikini? Or my sunglasses? Or my tank tops?” You asked, aggravated that you couldn’t find your stuff.

“I literally cannot find anything,” You added before giving Joe a look. He knew that look all too well, you were 1 misplaced item away from having a full breakdown. 

He got up from the stool and walked over to where you were, put his hands on your shoulders, and said “Y/N you could wear a potato sack and still look amazing. Stop stressing about it, this vacation is supposed to get rid of the stress. Not add onto it,”

You let out a deep breath and say “You’re right. It’s just us anyway. I’ll just pack some nice dresses and stuff whatever in the suitcase,” 

“The fewer clothes the better,” Joe smirks and says before leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips. 

“You’re insatiable,” you say against his lips. 

After you finish packing your suitcase, you get ready for bed since you have a fairly early flight. It took Joe about 15 minutes to pack his things, which came as no surprise since he is the biggest outfit repeater you know. You’re just about ready to doze off before you feel Joe’s hand creep up your leg and squeeze your thigh.

“Mmm Joe not right now,” you say half asleeply. “Go to bed,”

“Not that,” he states. “I can’t fall asleep,” he mumbles. 

You let out a sigh before turning to face him. No way you’re getting any sleep now. “What’s wrong,” you say as you move his messy curls out of his eyes. 

“I don’t know, I just can’t fall asleep,” he says. 

You knew Joe too well to know when something was bothering him. His confession earlier was only the tip of the iceberg. Something was bugging him and you needed him to talk to you.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours,” you say as you play with his curls. 

He stayed silent for a few heartbeats, not knowing if he should unload his heavy thoughts on you right before a vacation. But he knew that it was just you. You’d always listen to whatever he had to say, no matter the time or place. 

“Just everything.” He says, meeting your eyes. “Rehab has been going great and training has been too, and I should be happy about that but I just can’t get rid of that feeling,”

“What feeling?” You question.

“Feeling like I won’t be good enough. I know what people are saying; overpaid, overrated, no rings, injury-prone. And they aren’t wrong. I don’t have anything to back up why people think I’m a top 3 quarterback,” 

Your heart breaks as he continues to talk. The fact that Joe feels like he isn’t good enough is mind-boggling to you. He’s one of the best damn players you’ve ever seen and you wish you could do something to get rid of his doubts, but you knew that that was something he had to do on his own. 

“But you do have things to back it up. You had one of the greatest college football seasons ever. Winning the Natty and the Heisman was only the start of your legacy. You were drafted by an organization that was in desperate need of saving and you made an impact that not many could have done,” you say as you see a small smile on his face.

“You had a shitty rookie season with tearing basically everything in your knee, but you worked hard and came back better than ever fucking before. You went on and led the team to their first playoff win in 30 years and went to the fucking Super Bowl in your first full season,” you add.

“Yeah, you didn’t win. But you put the entire league on notice and showed them who the hell you are. And then you did it again next year even though you didn’t go all the way. This past year was rough and didn’t go the way anyone would have expected, but this is part of what makes you, you.” you say with a smile as he stares deeply into your eyes. 

“You thrive when there’s adversity. It makes you work harder for what you want and it always pays off one way or another. You always come out better and stronger. You are a great quarterback and are absolutely more than good enough. You’re going to have your moment soon, and I know it,” you conclude. 

Joe stares into your eyes for a few more heartbeats. You knew exactly what to say to bring him back down from whatever cloud he was stuck on and he was so thankful for you. 

“I love you,” he said as he pulled you onto his lap, pressing kisses all over your face. 

“I love you more, always,” you laugh as he kisses the hell out of you. 

You two spent the rest of the night in each other's embrace. You finally felt at peace once you heard Joe’s soft snores fill the room and finally got some sleep.

Friday

You both got up pretty early for your flight, taking a quick shower before packing the car and heading to the airport. After boarding the plane you both took off your shoes, pulled out your fav blanket, and got comfy. 

“Are you excited?” Joe beams.

“Excited is an understatement, Burrow,” you smirk. “Getting you out of Ohio might be my favorite part,”. 

“I’m so looking forward to getting some sun and swimming in that big pool,” he says, referring to the massive pool that’s a part of the house you rented.  

“It’s like you’re a whole new person,” you smile while leaning your head on his shoulder. He smiles and kisses your forehead before pulling out his laptop to turn on a movie. 

“Oooo what are we gonna watch?” you excitedly question. 

“I was thinking of either ‘Grown-Ups’ or ‘21 Jump Street’,” he responds.

“Hmm, let’s do Jump Street, it’s been a while since we watched that,” you say. 

You spent the rest of the flight watching movies, playing a few card games, and eventually taking a small nap before the plane landed. 

A few hours later

After the plane landed, you both drove to your house for the week and it was like something out of a fairytale. The house overlooked the beach and the crystal blue water. Lush green palm trees surrounding the house provided ample privacy, especially for the large open pool in the backyard. You two settled into the house before changing into your swimsuits for a nice afternoon dip in the pool. You did end up finding your new white bikini, which was perfect for the occasion. 

Joe walked out of the bathroom and saw you brushing your hair in the mirror. His eyes trailed down to your bare legs, up to your perfect ass, then to your toned stomach, and straight to your chest. You looked so sexy and he was in heaven. He walked up to you and hugged you from behind, his warmth causing you to melt into his arms. 

Your eyes met his in the mirror, “Like what you see, Burrow?” you teased. 

“Absolutely,” he chuckled as he swayed you two back and forth, pressing a kiss on the back of your shoulder while sliding his hand down to your ass. Joe was grinning like a love-struck fool as he watched you close your eyes and melt into his embrace. He was making you feel more relaxed than you’d ever been before and you both were loving it. 

You both ventured out to the pool and sat down on the pool chairs, hoping to get a quick tanning sesh in before a swim. A few minutes in, Joe found himself staring at the pool when he got an idea. 

“I’m gonna jump into the pool,” he casually said.

You quickly turned your head to him and said, “Are you crazy, the water will get everywhere,” You gasped.

“It’s just us though, nobody around to complain. Besides, I can’t do it in the pool at home since we spent way too much money on redoing the backyard. At least here there isn’t any vegetable garden at risk of being destroyed,” he smirked before quickly running back to the patio door and launching himself into the pool, not giving you a moment to lecture him. 

The water did in fact get everywhere but it was worth it when you saw Joe come up from the water. He shook his head back and forth to get the water out of his hair before he took his hand and attempted to slick it back. Your eyes navigated to his muscular chest which had stray water droplets sliding down his abdomen, back into the water. God, he looked so hot like this. 

“Like what you see, Burrow,” he teased as he noticed your expression. 

“Yes, in fact I do. Very much actually,” you say while getting off the chair. “And I’m not a ‘Burrow’ yet, still gotta wait a few months before that,” you say as you make your way into the pool. 

“Well, you’re practically already my wifey sooo,” he trails off before swimming over to the steps and helping you into the pool. 

You giggle at his words. He couldn’t wait to marry you and he never failed to make it known. 

You immediately latch onto him when you're in the pool. This was pretty normal for you both. You’d always use him as a floatie and make him do all the work while you just lay on him and relaxed. 

A few moments later you release yourself from his embrace, making him slightly confused at the sudden loss of contact. 

“Y/N come back,” he whines out.

“Someone’s clingy today,” you say while playfully rolling your eyes and swimming away from him. 

He stared at you for a few moments, a sad look on his face while you continued to swim around and away from him. You felt bad that you’d left him hanging but you were having too much fun teasing him. 

“Come and catch me shiesty,” you yelled. He hated it when you called him that. That nickname was only for football-related individuals to use and he thought it was a little cringe whenever you would use it. Not in a bad way, it’s just he preferred you calling him other names that football-related people can’t use. You knew how he felt about it but you also knew that this would for sure set him off. 

“Oh you’re done for,” he playfully growled before swimming after you. The pool was massive so you had just enough space to get away from him. 

You two were swimming circles around each other, occasionally splashing water into each other's faces in hopes of catching each other off guard. Your arms began to get tired of swimming around so you stopped by the ledge to take a breather while Joe was settled on the other side of the pool. 

Before you knew it, Joe had swum over to you and pulled you back into his arms. 

“Got you,” you whispered against your ear. 

“I guess you did,” you whispered back. 

“You look absolutely gorgeous by the way,” he said looking down into your eyes. “I love this bikini on you,” 

You blushed at his sweet comments. He never failed to tell you how pretty you looked. 

“Ya know, I look even better with it off,” you tease. 

Joe’s face dropped immediately when you said that. He’d been horny since he saw you in that bikini but had to compose himself since you both were looking forward to swimming in the pool. But now that you’d gotten your swim time in, nothing was stopping him. 

He slowly pressed you against the wall of the pool and kissed his way up your neck right up to your sweet spot. 

“Joe,” you moaned out. 

“What baby?” He asked, knowing exactly what you wanted.

“I need you,” you whined.

He looked at you momentarily before lifting you out of the pool and rushing you inside to the large bedroom. You let out a squeal as he pushed you back onto the bed. Joe climbed over you and situated his body in between your thighs, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You stayed kissing each other for a few minutes before you felt something hard poke at your stomach.

“Getting eager now aren’t we,” you tease. 

“Please, I’ve been waiting to get you in this bed since I saw you in this bikini,” he grinned. 

“Then I suggest you do something about it,” you replied.

Joe smiled and started to untie the strands of your bikini top before tossing it to the side. He kissed his way down to your perfect breasts, swirling his lips around your sensitive bud which caused you to let out a breathy moan.

“Joe,” you moaned out while shoving your hands in his hair. 

He spent a few moments sucking on your breasts before he continued his way down. He pressed a few sloppy kisses on your stomach before eventually making his way down to where you needed him the most. He slowly peeled off your bottoms which was driving you insane.

“Joe please,” you whined out.

“Patience is key, baby,” he teased. 

He threw your bottoms to the side as he made his way back up to your heat. “You’re so wet,” he says while ghosting his fingers over your folds.

“Joe I swear to god-,” You suddenly felt his warm tongue lapping at your folds which caused you to let out another moan, “Ohh Fuck”. 

He buried his warm tongue inside your core as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. He moved one of his hands up to cup your breast as the other was firmly on your thigh. Joe moved up and started to rhythmically suck on your clit which made you see stars; something which he made you see often. “Joey, fuck don’t stop,” you said breathlessly.

“You like that?” he chuckled against your core, sending vibrations throughout your body. Those 3 words always managed to get you more horny than you already were. "Yeah," you whispered.

He went back to lapping at your folds as he used his thumb to rub your clit. The combination of his mouth and fingers was sending you over the edge. You started to arch your back which caused you to lift your hips slightly but Joe pushed them back down as he continued to send you into a frenzy. You fisted your hands into his hair and started to pull on the loose curls which caused Joe to let out a soft moan against you. 

“Joe I’m so close,” you whispered as you pushed his head closer to your core. You felt a familiar warmth in your belly as you were moaning Joe’s name out (which was driving him insane). Joe thrusted one of his fingers into you, causing the imaginary rubber band in your lower belly to snap; feeling a familiar gush of liquid pool below you. You were overcome with a feeling of pure pleasure and satisfaction as he cleaned up your mess with his skillful mouth. He pressed delicate kisses on the insides of your thighs before moving back up and pushing his lips against yours again. 

“You’re so hot,” he said in between kisses. 

You felt a blush creep up on your face. “I’m flattered Mr. Burrow, but have you seen yourself”. 

“Shut up,” he chuckled before going back to kissing you. You stopped kissing him after a few moments and said “Joe, I need you inside me.”

“Your wish is my command babe,” he replied as he pulled down his swim trunks and threw them to the side. His cock was rock hard and the sight of it had you sizzling with anticipation. 

Your core was slick with your arousal which made it easy for him to push his dick into you. The tip slowly teasing your folds before he buries himself inside of you, causing you to let out a loud moan. You will never get tired of the feeling of him inside you. 

He started slowly thrusting into you which made you wrap your legs around him, wanting him deeper asap. 

“Joe, Fuck,” you moaned out. “Faster baby,”. 

He began snapping his hips against you, faster & harder than before. “God, you feel so good Y/N,” he moaned out. You brought him in for another kiss, this time quick, messy, and sloppy. He continued thrusting into you and you bucked your hips each time to match his movements. The sound of your arousal and skin-hitting skin filled the room as you two were caught up in the euphoria that was happening between you. 

Joe buried his face into your neck, sucking on your sweet spot, as your hands found themselves in his hair again. You were on Cloud 9 right now and it was all because of him.

“Joe, don’t stop. Shit, you feel too good,” you moaned. You felt him move deeper inside of you as he repeatedly hit your cervix. 

He continued to pound into you, making you feel like nothing else mattered but this moment. You both felt your arousal building up, begging to be released. 

“Fuck Y/N, I’m close,” he panted as he slowed down.

“Me too,” you whimpered. 

He picked up the pace of his thrusts once again, this time moving one of his hands down to your heat, toying with your clit. “Fuck,” you moaned out for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered. You felt your walls clench around him, signaling you were almost there. Joe felt you clench around him and pinched your clit which set off your orgasm. Your chest heaved up and down as you whimpered out his name while seeing stars again. He continued to thrust into you, chasing his pleasure. 

“Y/N,” Joe moaned out. You knew he was close by the way his thrusts started to become sporadic. 

“Come on baby,” you encouraged while pulling at his hair and kissing his neck. 

After a few rough thrusts, Joe let out a loud moan as you felt hot spurts of his cum fill you up. He collapsed on top of you as you both panted, needing a moment to recover after the workout you two just had. You moved one of your hands to his back, softly sliding it up and down to help him relax.

“I love you,” he softly said as he kissed your cheek, making you smile. 

“I love you more,” you whisper in his ear as he buries his face into your neck again. 

The next day 

The next morning was pretty chill for you both. You had breakfast at the local beachside cafe, stuffing your faces with delicious fresh fruit from the island before embarking on a pleasant morning walk on the beach. 

“This is nice,” Joe says as you both walk hand in hand alongside the water, a content look on his face.

You look up at him and smile, “Very nice,” you giggle. “Although, I don’t know how you’re not uncomfortable with walking on the beach in shoes,” you question while looking at your bare feet and then his shoes. 

“You never know when a crab might come up and pinch your toes,” he says with a straight face. 

“Righhhht,” you say while relishing the feeling of sand between your toes. 

“So, what should we do today? We pretty much have the whole day since we’re cooking at home tonight,” he says while squeezing your hand. 

“Hmmm,” you wonder for a second. “We could go out on one of the boats?” you carefully question while looking up at your fiancee. 

Joe did not like going on boats. He hated the idea of being out on the open water with no way of getting back to shore other than using the boat. He always questioned what you would do if the boat broke down or even started sinking. You always told him the sinking part was highly unlikely, but you blamed yourself for that worry because you’ve made him watch Titanic with you one too many times. He also didn’t like how you couldn’t see what was in the water. But lucky for you, the water in the Bahamas was crystal clear. 

He stayed silent for a few moments, making you a little sad since you wanted to experience something new with him. 

“Let’s do it,” he says while flashing you a smile. 

You looked up at him, a little surprised. “Really?” you beam. 

“Yes, now let’s go before I change my mind,” he says before stopping to pick you up. He doesn’t give you a moment to respond because he throws you over his shoulders causing you to let out a squeal. He leads you both back to the house so you can get freshened up.

You both got changed into your swimsuits before walking over to the docks and renting a boat for the day. You weren’t sure how you managed to get Joe to go on the boat, but you certainly were not complaining. 

The driver had taken the boat not too far from shore, which kept Joe’s mind at ease. You swam in the water for a little bit and enjoyed a few drinks. 

“Mmm, this like the best Mai Tai I’ve ever had,” you say while taking another sip. Joe was currently in the water in front of you, while you were seated on the steps of the boat, legs partially in the water. 

“Come in the water,” Joe says while splashing some water onto you. 

“Mmm, I think I’m good up here,” you tease while placing your drink to the side.

Joe swam closer to you and said “Nope.”

You were confused at what he meant but then you felt his wet hand wrap around your wrist. 

“Joe, don’t even think about it,” you playfully growled, knowing exactly what he was about to do. He didn’t listen and pulled you into the water, causing a big splash. You came back up to the surface with a frown.

“Someone’s mad,” Joe laughs. You swim over to him while he is fully anticipating an ass-kicking but is pleasantly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek.

You laugh and say, “If this is mad, let me be mad more often,”.

A few hours pass and you both are sitting on the boat in the net seating area that was right above the water. Joe had put on one of his many bucket hats and shades and was laid flat against the net, soaking in the golden sun. You were applying another layer of sunscreen before noticing his chest turning red. You knew he’d be a pain in the ass if he got sunburnt so you took the bottle and moved closer to him. 

You squeezed out a dab of sunscreen and started applying it to his chest. He flinched at the sudden contact before realizing it was just you. 

You felt him flinch and laughed, “Daydreaming, Burrow?”. 

“Maybe,” he smiles while taking off his shades. He looks down and sees you applying sunscreen on him, “Oh, thanks,” he says while meeting your eyes. 

You let out a playful sigh and say, “What would you do without me,”.

“For real,” he says. “I’d be walking around like a tomato,” he laughs. 

After applying the rest of the sunscreen, you lay back against the net and Joe lifts one of his arms, motioning for you to curl up next to him. He rests his hand on the small of your back while you tangle your legs with his. 

You lay there briefly, soaking up the perfect scene before breaking the silence. “Are you enjoying this? I know boats aren’t really your thing and I hope I didn’t force you into this,” you softly say. 

“Of course, I’m enjoying this. I will admit, I was a little nervy when getting on but you’re here with me so I’m fine. Besides, If the boat breaks down at least we’d be stranded together,” he jokes. 

“I guess that’s true. Better than being stranded with a bunch of randos too. I’m glad we could get a boat just for the two of us,” you reply. 

“Yup. This isn’t as bad as I thought. I can see everything below us too so no risk of a random shark popping out,” he deadpans.

“Like that would actually happen,” you say while softly hitting his chest.

“You never know,” he says while shaking your shoulder in an attempt to scare you.

You spent a few minutes messing around with each other before the driver came out to tell you that you were heading back to the island. You both got up and sat on the bench, your back pressed into Joe’s chest and stared out into the open waters, taking in the view before it was time to go back. You were mindlessly sliding your hand along Joe’s leg while he had his arms around your waist, gently squeezing your soft skin. Everything about this moment was peaceful. Joe felt at ease for the first time in a long time and he had his favorite person to thank for it. 

Once you got back to the house, you both took a nice shared shower before starting your dinner prep. Before arriving at the house yesterday, you had stopped at the local market to pick up some groceries. 

“So, what are we making tonight,” Joe asked as he sat down on one of the barstools. 

“I was thinking of shrimp-avocado tostadas and some of that wine we picked up yesterday?”

“Sounds delicious,” he said while rubbing his belly.

You let Joe fry the tortillas and make the avocado mixture while you cooked the shrimp and assembled the tostadas. While you were assembling the dish, Joe found a few candles in the cabinet and got an idea. He went outside to the backyard and set up the candles on one of the patio tables, setting the scene for a nice sunset dinner. He picked out a few flowers from the front of the house and put them in a vase to use as a centerpiece. He then poured the wine into 2 glasses, setting one on each side. 

You had finished plating the tostadas and didn’t see Joe anywhere. “Joe? Where are you,” you yelled out.

“Out here! Bring the plates outside,” he yelled back. 

You were a little confused but went along with it. You walked outside with your dinner and saw Joe setting the table and your heart melted. 

“Joe, this is so romantic,” you cooed while putting the plates on the table. 

He gave you a warm smile before pulling out one of the chairs for you to sit in. You sat down as he settled into the chair across from you. You both devoured the tostadas while making small talk about your plans for tomorrow. After you finished eating, Joe took the plates and set them inside; he suggested you both finish up your wine on the daybed since you would get a comfier view of the sky. 

Later that night, per your suggestion, you and Joe were sitting in the bathtub surrounded by bubbles and a few candles. You felt so relaxed even though you’d only been here for 2 days, and it was all because of Joe.

“I’m glad we finally get to have ‘us’ time,” Joe says while rubbing your thigh under the water. “I missed just being able to sit with you and do nothing. This past month felt so repetitive, I feel like we barely saw each other,” 

“Me too. We needed this,” you said as you pressed yourself into his chest a little more. Your back was to his chest and both your legs were tangled under the water. This was your favorite position; the warmth radiating off of his body felt like a big hug. 

“Thank you for doing this by the way,” you add.

“Doing what?” He questioned.

“This trip. I needed it more than I thought I did. Getting away from home and the change of environment was much needed. I think if I stayed in Ohio for another day I might have spontaneously exploded,” you joked, causing him to let out a soft chuckle. 

“Anytime,” he replied while kissing the nape of your neck.

“Do you feel better?” You asked. “I hope you were able to get your mind off of things. Your stuff was a lot heavier than mine,”

He lets out a content sigh and says, “Actually, yeah I do feel better. I think I just needed to get out of the chaos and get out of my head. This trip has helped me decompress and realize that not everything has to be so stuffy all the time,” Joe says. 

“Exactly,” you chirp as you lean your head back to place a kiss on his neck.

“I can’t do anything about what people are saying, they’ll always talk. But what I can do is work hard to get back to where I’m supposed to be. And I won’t be able to get there if I’m constantly pressuring myself,” he says. “Letting loose and having fun is a part of that journey. I need that balance,” he adds.

“And this is a great start,” you say while smiling up at Joe

“Yes it is,” Joe says while pressing another kiss to your forehead. 

You both had spent the rest of the night talking about the rest of your exciting activities planned for the final 2 days of the trip. You even talked about a few fun things you could do around Cincinnati when you get back home so that you could keep the work-life balance that you both so desperately needed. 

“This impromptu vacation might have been the best idea you’ve had so far,” you tell Joe as you both are about to fall asleep. 

“We should get away more often,” Joe grins.

--The End--

[goldencithaerias]

Young Silco x Reader - Modern School AU (not proofread but the Silco brainrot is too real to ignore <333)

CW: SFW, tad bit suggestive near the end.

You two were classmates in high school; one shitty group project together where only the two of you were doing the work was all it took for you and Silco to bond together, mainly from talking shit about the other kids in your group who didn’t do anything.

You visit his house almost every Friday after school, mostly alongside Vander and the two younger siblings down the block. Sometimes, Powder would get you to play house with her, and she’d always coincidentally make you and Silco the parents.

It was awkward at first, but you were too fond of the little prodigy to deny her the joy of seeing you and your friend hold hands.

When it’s just the two of you in his somewhat rundown room, however, it’s much more intimate, in a sense. Just two teenagers geeking off about their hobbies and theories for the upcoming episodes on the show you both were illegally watching off of some shady website.

You had accidentally turned those short hangouts into sleepovers on multiple occasions, having fallen asleep on his bed after spending too many hours yapping about the rumored messy breakup between the class president and vice president. Silco isn’t too keen on sharing his personal space, but he never had the heart to wake you up.

Other times, it’d just be the two of you falling asleep together on the couch while watching Mean Girls, stacked on top of one another like pancakes with abs.

(Vander took a picture once and teased him about it later the next morning, and suddenly Silco was very interested in creating pillow forts between the two of you whenever you went over to continue watching Dexter. Said pillow forts never worked in separating you from his arms, unfortunately.)

During the summer of junior year, after successfully obtaining your driver's license, you drove the group downtown to an arcade you used to frequent as a child.

Powder beat the absolute shit out of everyone at Target Terror, and Vi got an all-time new high score that caused the boxer machine to almost malfunction. Vander managed to talk the staff out of kicking all of you out after that incident.

You tried out the claw machines after a cute whale shark plushie caught your eye, but ultimately failed to obtain the thing (since all claw machines are nothing but scams.) Silco saw how disappointed you were, and attempted at said claw machine, before being let down as well from his failures.

(He bought you a shark keychain for your car keys a week later. Said it was a congratulatory gift and definitely not because seeing you mopey and sad tugged at his heartstrings in a bad way.)

Silco invited you to homecoming during your senior year. It wasn’t a straight-up confession, but honestly, people were surprised that you idiots aren’t already dating in the first place.

You showed up, of course. Seeing Silco without his iconic side bang was sad, but you’d be lying if you said him with slicked-back hair wasn’t hot as hell.

The two of you spent approximately twenty minutes in the poorly decorated cafeteria room before sneaking off somewhere else. Ended up sloppily making out in the bathroom before you got caught by some poor freshman.

You giggled like a maniac during the entirety of the drive home, while he cringed and grumble for you to shut up. You continued said messy make-out session the moment your foot went past his bedroom door.

Definitely let you wear his jacket during the school day!!! Even if your styles were opposites or otherwise, he’d always leave his cherished leather coat inside your locker first thing in the morning. It smells a whole lot like ink and newspaper.

Silco isn’t the best with PDA, nor is he comfortable showcasing his affection for you or vice versa in any public space, period. Even around your little group, the most he’d do is hold your hands, and even so it is kept to a minimum.

In the privacy of his or your room, however? Better be prepared for a shower of kisses and gentle caresses all over your body.

A forehead kiss a day keeps the sadness away, they say.

[strawberrysugar71]

TADC Episode 6 Predictions! + Why I Think Bunnydoll COULD Become Canon (Some Episode 4 Spoilers)

1

Release Date

According to my calculations, we can expect Episode 6 to release on one of the following dates:

21st February 2025

28th February 2025

7th March 2025

14th March 2025

21st March 2025

28th March 2025

4th April 2025

11th April 2025

18th April 2025

25th April 2025

2nd May 2025

I think most likely it would be on May 2nd. But first let me explain how I go these dates.

Episode 2 of TADC released 5 weeks after Episode 7 of Murder Drones. And Episode 3 of TADC released 6 weeks after the Murder Drones finale. However, Episode 4 released 10 weeks after Episode 3. So, what I did was - for Episode 5 - count 5-10 weeks after Episode 4, and then I repeated the same for Episode 6.

Let's say, for example, an Episode released every 5 weeks, we would expect the trailer for Episode 5 to be released on January 3rd 2025. (I'm just gonna point out that the Netflix leak is false. I highly doubt we'd get an Episode 3 weeks after the last one, but if it were true, then the trailer for Episode 5 would release on Friday. The actual episode wouldn't come out on the 1st, anyway, because that's a Wednesday. Not a Friday.) Anyways, enough of me yapping about release dates.

2

The Adventure

We know that Episode 5's adventure is baseball, and set in a baseball stadium, because it was foreshadowed at the beginning of Episode 4 and in the full season announcement for TADC.

It is possible that the baseball adventure could be in Episode 6, because it was Ragatha AND Jax playing baseball (before Gangle joined in), but I highly doubt it because...

I think Episode 6 is another in-house adventure.

3

Why Do I Think This? + What Do I Think Will Actually Happen In the Episode?

I think this because of two reasons:

• I believe that Jax is going to be the cause of Ragatha's abstraction in Episode 6.

• Jax's key collection.

Killing off one of the main three and the motherly one of the group is a pretty good way to fuck everybody up.

"Probably not NPCs" so one of the humans, then.

I think the entire fandom can agree that the worst thing Jax will do he's probably gonna do it in his episode.

Coincidence? I think not.

My take on this entire thing is that Jax is going to cause Ragatha to abstract, and feel really bad about it. Like, I mean, come on.

Kinger won't abstract. He would've most likely already abstracted if he was going to.

Gangle, potentially, BUT she arrived after Jax, and she's most likely the one who has been in the circus for the least amount of time (aside from Pomni).

Pomni arrived, canonically, 4 days ago. I don't think it's possible to abstract that fast.

Zooble I really don't think will ever abstract. They're just too much of a chill guy for that (iykyk) /hi

Jax finds pleasure in bullying the others, even if he does care about them.

It's his way of coping with being trapped in the circus. And I think, even though he's an asshole, having to live with the fact that he abstracted the only person who seemed to genuinely care about him is torture in itself.

• In-house adventure

• Jax says "I want you DEAD!!!" to Ragatha.

• Ragatha disappears to her room.

• Jax goes into her room later on.

• Ragatha's abstracted.

The last 2 bullet points could even happen at the beginning of Episode 7. But I think it would make more sense for it all to be in Episode 6 because the 6th Episode in the last season of shows that have 9 Episode long seasons is the cursed Episode of that show. (Again, iykyk)

4

Why Do I Think Bunnydoll Could Become Canon?

"But Gooseworx confirmed that there's no canon romanc-"

Did you watch Episode 3? She lied.

"Yeah, but Queenie's abstracted-"

Gooseworx also said that Queenie being a chess piece was just a design choice and that she wasn't Kinger's wife. Pretty funny that, huh?

I think this is overlooked. Romance IS canon, it's just not really shown. But I do genuinely believe that if any other ship had to become canon, it would be Bunnydoll. I think this because:

• They're always shown next to each other, or close to each other.

• Their bedrooms are right next to each other's. Just like Kinger and Queenie's (as well as Zooble and Gangle's if your an Abstraggedy fan). AND There's a Mannequin on either side of them.

E.g.

Mannequin, Jax, Ragatha, Mannequin.

• The nicknames he calls her, like hello?!

• Not to mention, whenever Ragatha expresses concern for Pomni, Jax either rolls his eyes or dismisses it.

• The whole premise of Episode 3 was about Husband and Wives. And I think it's pretty obvious that Queenie abstracted because her and Kinger got into an argument of some kind. So, Kinger abstracted Queenie, basically. Abstraction is also the circus' version of death. That would explain why Kinger looked so emotional when Baron Theodore was talking about killing Martha. Then, Martha said "You know how men are, always having the silliest priorities" and then Ragatha said "Don't I know it." whilst looking over at Jax Martha was talking about men, sure, but she was only really meaning her husband. A good writer such as Gooseworx doesn't include that for no reason. It's so goddamn obvious.

• They obviously have/have had something going on. From Jax saying "Why do you always make me out to be the bad guy?" during their fight at the beginning of Episode 4 . They've obviously had arguments like that before. They HEAVILY give exes that still have feelings for each other if they are exes.

All of that combined is - if it does happen - going to make Episode 6 a whole lot sadder. If they are exes, then one of 'em is probably gonna say that they still love them before Ragatha goes. And if they're just crushes, then they're probably gonna confess their love. Maybe even a hug...or a kiss. (Please, Gooseworx 🙏)

Anyways, I hope this makes sense. Thank you for reading!

[jolalibrary]

4. green smoke

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter four of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3.7k chapter warnings: [see masterlist for series warnings] meet cute, flirting. fluff. flirting in person and over IG. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used, you wear a date outfit but not specified and the shoes have heels but not mentioned what kind. minor discussion of past canon events incl. drugs. no use of y/n. an: if this as a friends episode this would be called "the one where they talk"

prev chapter | frankie's ig

key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics

Friday soon arrives.

It comes hand-in-hand with a tumultuous storm, bringing with it ominous rumbles echoing through your house. The air feels charged with tension, wrung tight, all sense—as if it’s holding its breath while the world around seems to retreat into darkness. Even if the time on your laptop says 14:43.

Your gaze fixates on beads of rain running down the window, all racing one another—like you have been for several minutes. The steady patter provides a rhythmic backdrop to your solitude, interrupted only by the occasional sighs that escape your lips and the soft tapping of your pencil against the notebook—a feeble attempt at pretending you’re concentrating.

Pretend is the optimum word.

Merely putting on a show of focusing on the task at hand. In reality, your eyes keep flicking to your phone—the one lying silent on the counter, eagerly anticipating the next notification that’ll make it illuminate.

Your work, the one thankfully with a deadline of next week, continues to sit ignored—barely considered, never mind plotted. Because it isn’t what fills your mind.

It’s him.

Just thoughts of him—mind populated with vivid memories that refuse to fade, unable to stop lingering on the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles or his infectious laugh. The one which has dug itself a place into the walls of your home, lit it up.

Then, you think of his lips, the ones that are purposeful, all heavenly. The mere thought of them sends a shiver down your spine, a longing present, spreading—

Unloading a delivery and you’re falling on me.

It's difficult not to smile at his message.

Something he effortlessly elicits from you now. Has done so since the very beginning. A thing he continues to do so the more the two of you speak.

It's giddy, almost teenage-like, the way your heart scampers to catch itself as your fingers try to pretend they're not darting to reply.

Excuse me? Rain. Oh, that is such a dad joke. It was. I’m pretty proud of it. Bet it made you smile. I will not confirm or deny. So that means it did. Shut up.

Thumbs swirling over the screen, you roll your lips, toes twitching on the floor as you grin.

So, how big is the candle going to be in the middle of the table? Ummm, appropriately sized for a restaurant? Hmm, I have only gone on dates with inappropriately sized candles. Are you flirting with me when I’m at work? Are you saying that like you don’t flirt with me when I’m at work? In my defence, you choose your own hours. Do you mind me flirting with you? Not even a little bit. Good. Because guess what I’m wearing right now? Hopefully nothing. I’m wearing sweats and a baggy T-shirt. Still hot. Get back to work, Butterscotch.

You know it’s not long—a handful of hours until you’ll be across from him.

Likely with your smile hurting your cheeks, eyes unable to stand looking away from him for more than a few minutes. Unable to explain or rationalise how straightforward it is with him, how natural it feels to get swept up in all of this and find yourself wanting to be around him.

Something you try to put to the back of your mind, to not clock-watch, not count down. Doing well at it until you hear your phone buzz and see his name appear on your screen.

The laundry you're putting away ignored, the item dropped from your hand to the floor, before wiping your hands on your thighs, taking a measured breath, then lifting the phone to swipe it.

His voice fills your ear almost immediately. All hello and your name, a can you hear me? following.

And your heart skips a beat—missing a whole thud against your ribs as you stare at the outfit hanging on the closet door.

“I’m really sorry—“

And your heart falls. Descends gradually, like a feather freefalling. Doing so until it has nowhere else to go but sit in the hollow void. Disappointment beating, pulsating.

“—Harold… he had to leave early, his heart was playing up and he said he’d come back. But I can’t make him do that, wouldn’t be able to enjoy ourselves if he just—"

“—Frankie—“

“—And I’ve tried to move the reservation, rang the restaurant. But, they’re booked up and I really want to take you there—”

“—Frankie?”

You brush the fabric, the hanger holding on to the top of the door with sheer will as you do so between thumb and finger. Half-smiling—even still. Listening to the way he takes a breath, to the way he cares so much.

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, swallowing, shoving the dismay down. “I… promise.”

The voice you hear back is soft. So tinged with sadness, and regret, you half-want to call him Butterscotch just to make him laugh. “You sure?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you reassure him, comfort him—voice steady as you do so, "We can reschedule. It's not a problem."

A moment of silence follows, with a sense of letdown settling in the air like fog. It sits there, resting, hanging. Because even if you know it’s just a minor adjustment, a twinge of disappointment still seeps in. Not so much a sharp pang, but a lingering weight that makes your shoulders sag, as though everything had deflated like a balloon slowly losing air.

“Baby… I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, a smile making its way onto your face despite the circumstances. "There's always next time."

“Not drove you away then?” he half-laughs, one you imagine is a little forced.

“Not even a little bit.”

Sighing, you swear you hear him smile with it. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You grin, nothing but light and easy, “Just make sure next time you can show up, that’ll be a good start."

Frankie laughs, it flowing down your ear before it’s joined by a promise that he will and he can call you later, if you like? A thing which sounds like a good idea, even more so when it's followed by the fact he wishes he could stay—talk, but you know. Nodding to no one but yourself as you bid him goodbye, leaning against the wall—hanging up, full of bittersweet.

You let your head fall against it, rolling it there as your eyes flick back up at your clothes, lingering over it.

And an idea appears.

It grows—smothering over sadness before it blooms.

Then, you’re grinning. One almost as large as you do when he makes you giggle. Almost.

You’re thankful the sign still says open when you step out of your car—fingers tugging at fabric, ensuring it sits how it’s supposed to.

Even for a surprise, you wanted to look as picture-perfect as you should have been entering the restaurant. The paper bags catch your leg, noise crinkling against the air as you yank on the handle—entering, being washed in wood chippings, bleach and paint.

For a moment, one stuck between time and space, you look. Glance. Unsure where to find him, until your eyes land on him and find his head lifting at the sound of your entering.

Whatever Frankie had been in his hand dropped, all forgotten. His mouth parting at the sight of you. Taking you in. Sweeping brown, surprised eyes all over you as heat rises up your neck and brushes over your ears.

“I know I’m a little overdressed for buying a hammer, but…”

Mouth falling open, he looks torn between grinning and speaking. “What are you…”

Shrugging, watching his eyes roam up and down the outfit you’d chosen. The one that had been on the hanger for days—one you’d not thought could be replaced by anything else.

“Well,” you begin, smirking, “My date got caught up at work and I’d been really looking forward to seeing him.”

Frankie smiles, hand rubbing along his jaw as he stares.

“But then, someone told me there’s a secret restaurant here. One behind a metal door that says, Staff Only?”

Dropping his hand, and swiping his tongue across his lips—he slowly moves around the register. Coming to join you as you hold the bags up, the heels of your shoes clicking on the shop floor tiles as you meet him halfway.

“I also suspect that you might not have eaten, since you've been alone for most of the day.”

It’s at that moment his stomach roars. It grinds, what you assume is coffee, before groaning inside of him as he claps a hand on his apron.

“The only problem is,” you say, narrowing your eyes, scrunching your nose. “I… I didn’t know what you would like, so I might have bought a ridiculous amount of food.”

Taking a bag, his eyes widen when he opens it. “You’re staying, right? To help me?”

Reaching inside the bag he didn’t take, you pull out a single, battery-powered candle. “It’s a date.”

He gives you a wide smile, his eyes twinkling with happiness. "I just need to lock up," he says.

You watch with a flutter of excited nervousness as he moves around the store, flipping the sign on the door from 'Open' to 'Closed', and then securing the door. The lock clicks into place, echoing in the quiet store. He then proceeds to shut off the lights, plunging the store into a soft, inviting darkness lit only by the glow from the streetlights outside.

Turning back to you, he extends a hand.

"Shall we?" he asks, his voice filled with anticipation. You place your hand in his, feeling the warmth spreading through your fingers.

As you walk together towards the back of the store, a tinge of excitement flutters in the air. The 'Staff Only' sign looms above the door like a secret entrance to a place you shouldn't be, but with a gentle gesture, he ushers you inside.

You don't miss the way his fingers brush your lower back, the heat they ignite up your spine as his chest meets your back, face close to yours. Lingering, eyes sweeping over you.

"Lemme just..." he whispers, elongating it, before he bends to pull you a chair out—one with three wheels, no back—fingers sliding up to brush over your shoulders as you sit down.

“Careful.”

Swallowing, you suppress the effect he's having on you, forcing a smirk. “Oh, I’ll try, Morales. Don’t want you to have to fill out the accident book.”

“Harold would murder me.”

Snorting, you watch him join you—taking the candle from your hand, flicking it on and placing it directly in the middle before the two of you begin taking food out. He gazes at bundled packaged burgers, stealing a fry from the bag before it’s laid out over the desk.

“So, as it’s our third date.” His eyes flick to you, mid-bite of his food as you twirl a fry in your fingers. “I get to ask you challenging questions, right?”

“Fuck,” he says, under his breath. Grinning. “Alright, let me have it.”

Nudging him with the tip of your shoe he laughs. “Okay. You and Luca’s mom?”

“Ah.”

Grabbing a napkin, he wipes his mouth. “You don’t have to worry.”

“And as everyone in history knows, those words are how people stop worrying.”

Smirking, he turns on the wheely stool, facing you, knees abutting yours. “We haven’t been together since he was born—we… we weren’t even together by the time he reached six months. He… he doesn’t know any different. We have things we say, and truly, she’s a fantastic mom, we have a great co-parenting situation.”

“Okay.”

His fingers land on your knee, dancing over them, light and feathery as he sighs. Heavy. Weighted. It makes you swallow, makes you want to dig your fingers into your leg to stop yourself worrying, thinking—overdramatising whatever it is.

Scratching his head, he rolls his tongue from his cheek to the front of his teeth. “I wasn’t a good person then… a lot of shit had happened—I’d left the service, found myself… haunted, I guess? Me and her, we met, we… seemed good. She seemed good. And then, I…”

Your hand slides over his, one of your fries still in hand as you do. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I want to.”

Nodding, he half smiles.

And then he does.

He tells you about his days in the army—and the sleepless nights when he was back home. The sense of loss he felt without it, the uniform that meant nothing when he joined a regular job. How flying helicopters for people with money who had no cares in the world began to make him hollow, carving a piece inside of him that didn’t fill with laughter at barbecues and trivia nights. He tells you how he’d rambled to someone about the lack of sleep, before he found a little white bag in his locker—an opportunity, a chance to not overthink.

That it had stayed there for days, almost a week until there had been news about someone he had once worked with.

Then he explained how it wasn’t a problem, but it also very much was. How he was lost, drowning—that people reached out, but the lights had been on, but no one was home. How it became a coping mechanism, a small dose to take the ache away—before he learnt he was going to be a dad. Her worries about him making her ignore the signs, much further on than they thought—and then, one month later, how he failed a drug test.

Trace amounts, barely anything, but still plenty.

His license, revoked—paused. His future dwindled, a baby due to arrive, one he’d heard the heartbeat off at the same time as he found himself at the threat of being alone. A second chance dangled, offered—do better, Frank. Don’t be selfish.

“—but, I didn’t change. Don’t change.”

Your heart falls, and descends.

Watching him shake his head, grabbing a handful of fries before stuffing them into his mouth as he chews, and you pick at one from your own box.

“Things were good—Luca, he had ten toes, ten fingers. He was great, happy. It made us being good seem real? But, it lingered, y’know? If work kept me later, there was this distrust, this question. And I couldn’t blame her, didn’t. Never would either. I broke that, I know I did. But…”

“It wasn’t healthy?”

Shrugging, he swallows, before nodding. “Then, I helped a friend, one from my squad. Had to… it was dangerous. I was gone longer than I said—and she worried, panicked. I knew before I left that when I got back I’d likely find my stuff packed—not that I blame her. I know we tried. But, I broke it. But now we’re better… better co-parents than partners, you know?”

Nodding, you chew, rolling the salt on your lips together. A beat passes, ice clanging in the drinks, cartons scratching against the table as the two of you eat.

“That was probably a lot.”

“It’s okay. Are you… are you good now?”

Nodding, he chews another fry. “Clean since Luca was born. Five years, fifty-seven days.”

“Well, I know this might be weird to say, but I’m proud of you.”

Smiling, he chews his cheek, meeting your eyes for the first time since he began sharing. “You’re a bit too good for me, you know that?”

Smirking, you steal one of his fries. “Oh, a hundred per cent. You might have a bunch of followers and good taste in paint colours, but did you know that I can sand down a dresser to the point a prominent Instagram DIYer has told me ‘I did a good job’.”

“Doesn’t sound that trustworthy. Bet he doesn’t know what you call wrenches.”

Pouting, you narrow your eyes as he laughs. “Thank you for telling me.”

Nodding, he rolls his lips. “I had to… ‘cause… are we enacting third date-talk honesty?”

“Of course.”

Half-smiling, he nudges himself closer on the stool. “I really like you.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you look up at the ceiling, before grabbing his knees and wheeling yourself closer. “I quite like you too.”

Smile spreading, he places his hands on top of yours. “Yeah? Because I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to… run from all of that.”

Smirking, you try to move closer, even if the wheels of both stools try to prevent you. “Did you know, honesty is really, really hot?”

Brows raising, chin lifting, his lips slide further into his cheek. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’m glad too.”

Swallowing, his fingers slide in between yours, eyes flicking from one eye to the other. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous, that.”

“Well, I’ve seen your house now.”

Nodding, you smile. Feeling it, whatever he’s going to say, ask, think lingering in the silence. His grin widens, a spark igniting in his eyes that sends a rush of warmth through you.

“So, I think it only seems fair you see mine.”

Wiping your hands on your napkin, licking your lips as you cross a leg over the other. “Well, for fair sake I definitely should.”

“Do you want to… now?”

“Tonight?”

Nodding, that same flush of pink rises up his neck, up his jaw.

Smirking, you loosen your hand from his—resting your palm on his cheek, elbow on your knee. “I’d like that.”

The car ride to his should be tense, but it isn't.

Instead, it's filled with soft laughter, teasing comments and shared glances—your fingers twitching, wondering whether a hand on his knee is too soon. Even when everything else feels so normal, natural.

When he pulls up outside his place, anticipation fills the air—a rush of warmth flooding through you, making your fingers clamp together and stare out at the place as he says, this is it.

It’s nice, well-kept—charming, from what you can already tell. Eyes spot chalk drawings on the patio, lit up by the outside lights and a plastic red car close to where he's parked.

“Luca has some good parking,” you smile, pointing to it next to you both. “You learn from him, or?”

Smirking, he undoes his belt. “Maybe, I taught him how to park. I’m very good with heavy transportation.”

You don’t miss the way he emphasises the sentence. Your 'oh' is swallowed by the sound of him opening the door and telling you to wait.

Watching as he moves around the vehicle, his eyes holding yours. Earlier, you'd been thankful that the rain had taken a pause; now you wished it hadn't stopped its lashings that glued clothing to skin, thighs pressing together on the seat before the door beside you opens.

“What a gentleman.”

“Just wanted another chance to chance to check you out, really.”

Swatting him, he takes your hand, his laugh blending with yours as he leads you up to his front door.

If he feels nervous, he doesn’t show it. Finding his keys and slides one into the lock without missing. Opening the door without as much as an awkward shove of the door.

If anything, it’s effortless. It not even squeaking or catching as he pushes it open.

“It’s not a lot…” he begins.

But he couldn’t be more wrong.

It’s cosy and warm. Exuding an unmistakable homeliness that immediately comforts you. Dark woods, off-whites, and splashes of orange, caramel, and greens intertwine harmoniously, creating a space that feels both freshly decorated and deeply loved. A balance you assume exists because of him being the one to bring it all together, knowing from the videos you've seen how talented he is.

As you glance around, you begin to see the traces of the Frankie you’ve been getting to know. Photographs of him at the beach, with his son, with friends and more with Luca at varying ages.

Then, there are the plants. An assorted mix of them, some big that you remember from photos, some greener than others—some tall and in plants with animal faces like raccoons and beavers, others in decorative pots placed on shelves.

As you step in further, you spot furniture you recognise from videos—even noting the stacked pile of books from a photo he’d shared recently and a record player on a side table.

“C’mon, let me show you around.”

He leads you, hand in yours, showing you his well-equipped kitchen, and dining space. Occasionally, he points things out, like the markings on a wall he’s using to measure how tall Luca gets and the scuff marks from dragging the dining table in after varnishing it. Before finally, the two of you are outside the half-open door to his bedroom.

Frankie giving you a wink, bodies almost flush.

“That where the magic happens?”

“Not usually…”

"Maybe that's cause people haven't been saying the right magic words." Shrugging, you lick your lower lip, staring at the beading on the door. "I should tell you, I've heard I'm quite good at magic words..."

You let it linger, sit. Before you turn on your heel, fingers brushing over a table as you head back in the direction of his living room.

He follows, a step or two behind, letting you and your eyes capture all the personal touches before you feel fingers on your wrist, tugging you back, body flush to his.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, you find your throat dry—eyes flicking to his mouth.

“Go take a seat, I’ll bring us a drink.”

It’s soft, the nod you do as he slips his hand from your waist. You move, almost on auto-pilot, to sit down on his sofa, running your fingers over a cushion—one stitched with greens, golds and oranges.

When he reappears, you look up at him, noticing the hint of nerves in his gaze as you plaster on a reassuring smile as he places them down on the coffee table.

Slowly, you reach out, squeezing his hand, "Your home is lovely, Frankie."

He chuckles, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks as he joins sitting down. "Yeah?"

Nodding, you press your knee against his. “So.”

“So.”

With a smirk, you draw a measured breath. “I believe... I want to kiss you now.”

Swallowing, his gaze flickers to your lips, lingering, before snapping back up to your eyes. Warmth spreads over your cheeks, neck and ears. “I believe you should, Rainy.”

A response there, nestled between teeth and tongue, is muffled as his lips meet yours—for the first time in several days.

an: as a warning, the next chapter will include smut. if you wish to skip the smut, you can miss the chapter as there will be no other scenes. the following chapter will pick up the next morning.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

[devosin]

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! episode one : taco bell & shitty tuesdays . .

♡. Spotify playlist | Updates, every Friday !! — Vil Schoenheit x reader | Y/n pov . .

You stare at your phone screen, waiting for the phone call to end, and for the screen to fade to black—A sigh of relief escapes you as you finally hear the line close, the familiar sound of a phone call ending brings you such overwhelming relief, you'd think you just paid off a million dollars worth of nonexistent debt. 

You let yourself fall back on your chair, your publicist had landed you into another event you could care less about all in the name of publicity, and honestly you wish you had the heart to tell her, but you’re well aware that Jean only wants the best for her clients, and each decision had a reason behind it . . —But who the hell goes to a dolphin event anyways?—They’re like the cruelest sea animal!

You stretch your arms, and stare at the pile of clothes spread at the top of your bed and floor. It was the first day on set, nothing major would be happening, only meeting the crew and learning of the plans for the show—and you’d like to make a good impression—anything below show stopping would be an insult to yourself . . and your stylist who suggested a bunch of outfits with the clothes you now have on your bed and floor. 

You let out another sigh, wishing you could just fall back asleep instead of dealing with whatever it is you got yourself signed up to, “I should take a shower”, you mumble to nobody in particular. 

Time: 10:32 am Location: Y/n’s Car

You stir the car into the drive thru of some random Taco Bell that fell on the highway—Normally taco bell for breakfast isn't ideal, and in all honesty will never be your ideal . .  It's a bold move to take the most diarrhea-inducing meal right before a first time cast meeting, but when life gives you taco's, one must oblige. 

Time: 11:43 am Location: Y/n’s Car 

You had parallel parked your car somehow—To be fair ninety percent of the time you park your car with hopes and prayers, and sometimes you forget to fill your gas up entirely, which proves to be really annoying since it's a three hour drive to the capital city where you film mainly, and you have to drive there a lot . .  Your parents would be ashamed to see your yearly towing costs due to a forgetful gas repayment. 

You always seem to assume that somehow the distance to get to your designated location will magically change into a couple minutes and won't waste your gas as much, which quite literally never works, but are you going to learn from your mistakes? . . Most likely not. 

You stretch your arms one more time, taking a few deep breaths and a sip of your drink, before you finally grab your tote bag and head into the studio. 

Time: 11:52am Location: Inside the studio 

A shiver racked over your body the moment you entered the studio—'Dear seven it's fucking cold in here'—you thought, mentally noting that you should ask Amanda when you meet her if there was a way to turn up the heater, it’s literally winter . .  they can’t expect you to film in this situation right? 

As if on instinct a distinct cheery voice could be heard from the farther corner of the room, "Y/n!! You're here", a petite brunette makes her way up to you . .  way too energetic for this early in the morning, "Hi, Amanda", you greet her, a bit awkwardly, not knowing how to exactly approach the conversation. 

“Yes! That’s me, we're just setting up right now, I’m so glad you came.”, she smiled, “You can put your bags on that chair over there, we're just getting a few things sorted, so feel free to introduce yourself to everyone.”. 

"Omg, it's so great to finally see you! . . and like meet you", she seemed so excited, for some weird reason, her energy rubbed off on you, easing your nerves, "Sorry if I'm late, traffic was horrendous", you mumbled, “that’s completely fine, you live further out East right?”, she asked curiously, and you watched as she fiddled with her clipboard checking off random things. 

“Yeah”, you reply dryly, shoving your hands in your pockets, “It’s usually a three hour drive, it took four today”, she nodded along, “Well, if you’re hungry we have snacks in that room”, she points to one of the random staff rooms, “You and Vil will be sharing a dressing room, if you don't mind—If you do I can totally work something out!”, she quickly corrects herself. 

“No it’s completely fine”, you smile, it wouldn’t be the first time, a lot of films on a shorter budget opts to have actors sharing a dressing room, and this is the first ever late night show for the company, you wouldn’t be surprised if sorting things out is already eating a chunk away at the budget set in placed.  

“Speaking of Vil . . Where is he?”, you ask, looking around curiously at the room, you see a bunch of other staff members and crew, who wave hi to you and you wave back. You’ll have to greet them properly later, but you’ll put that to a back burner until your social battery recovers to its full level. 

“Vil?”, she stands in place, thinking for a couple seconds, “He left an hour ago”, you raise a brow, “He came like really early in the morning, said he was getting breakfast and had a meeting, and that he’d be back . . maybe . .  soon?”, she walks around, throwing some pointers to some of the crew . .  it looked like gang signs but the crew understood so who are you to judge, “Honestly I don’t remember much.”, she whispered to you, like it was a secret of some kind, “But . . I did plan a meeting between the two of you tomorrow, you’ll be meeting at this cafe, it’s really private and I booked the area so you guys can comfortably talk about the show, if that’s alright with you?” 

“That’s great actually!”, you smiled, that just gives you one less thing to worry about.

Amanda is actually just a random character based off of no one in particular, I felt like a really sweet manager would be really fun <3

Taco bell . . . no y/n's were harmed in this process (They had pepto bismol in the car dw)

Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter . .

— LATE NIGHTS & FLASHING LIGHTS !! ♡. Synopsis : VIL SCHOENHEIT recently signed a contract under Descendant. Inc for his very own late night show, only to find out his co-star and fellow co-host is none other than Y/n L/n, someone he hates despite knowing very little about them and never having met them, previously. Y/N L/N, an actor who made their debut 3 years ago and hasn’t been able to catch a break since, recently decided to sign a deal with Descendants. Inc to host their new late night show “late nights & flashing lights”, as a break from acting . . Only to find out their favorite long-time actor will be co-hosting with them. Tune in every Friday, for a new episode of “late nights & flashing lights” to see if these two hosts can find a peaceful work-bond amidst their judgements . . and quite possibly even love? . .

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