#read under cut for context for the first tag

[vaxyl]

Drew the pretty boy again.

Detail close ups under the cut!

Plus, a little bonus~

------

Starting with a reminder of Vax's first meeting with the Briarwoods - the skin will never go back to normal, fang scars & thinned, death-touched skin marring Vax's neck for life.

As well as a small reminder of the scary deal Vax made to save Vex in the sunken tomb.

And Vax's choker, which glows with a purplish pink light whenever he uses his voice.

(I headcanon Vax as trans, and made up a choker that magically alters his voice to sound however he wants it to sound in real time for him.)

Bonus: A more silly, suggestive version. Purely for the memes.

Someone's had some lovin!

[dlxxv-vetted-donations]

Support Reema's family in Egypt and Gaza.

My other promotion lists | imagine studying for midterms on a phone

Updated: Nov 23

Member(s): @reemash46 (shadowbanned), @reema16 (shadowbanned), @reemagaza (Reema), IG: reema_shurr (confirmed hers, see under cut for proof)

Verification: Operation Olive Branch Masterlist #18

Payment methods: Credit/debit, Paypal through my Kofi (Specify that it's for Reema. Be warned that Paypal takes a cut. I will post proof of donation within 24h under the 'receipts' tag.)

Donation match $20 CAD

Summary: Reema is an evacuated Palestinian studying pharmacy abroad in Egypt (read this post for more context). Funds are used for family members in Egypt and Palestine. See under the cut for details.

CAD is weak compared to other common currencies. Your donation can go a long way.

Campaign details:

Read the first campaign details post for what happened in this campaign so far. I also added some explanation on her financial situation and where the money she already raised (Roughly ~$15k CAD) is. Summary: she can't get it quickly due to banking restrictions.

Nov 18 update: The campaign has stagnated heavily recently, and Reema needs donations to afford the basic needs (ex. food) of her family still in Gaza.

Nov 3 update (done):

Reema's sister recently underwent surgery but there were complications in the procedure. She still needs to be hospitalized and monitored until her condition improves. This treatment requires $1,600, or $23,700 CAD in the campaign.

Reema bought her laptop before finding out about this. Extra money saved from this purchase was spent on her family's livelihood in Egypt. They have no emergency funds remaining.

Reema's sister's situation improved and she was discharged from the hospital on Nov 8.

Oct 20 update: Reema needs to wait for her campaign manager to transfer these older funds to her. She expects to get $3,000 in mid-November, but she's worried that she won't be able to pay off next semester's tuition if something goes wrong.

However, she can easily access new donations and these are considered emergency funds just in case she can't get the older ones. She needs more in the emergency budget because her family drew from it on Oct 10 to pay for her sister's surgery.

If everything goes smoothly, this money will go towards supporting her family members in:

Egypt: Reema wants to pay her parents back for supporting her journey and wants to contribute to their livelihood

Gaza: Preparing her family for the winter.

Misc:

Reema on IG confirms the Tumblr is hers

[glossdebut]

coming home (a take a bite drabble) | MYG

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Yoongi's been working hard lately, with lots of late nights holed up in his studio. When you wake up with no recollection of him coming home last night, you decide to show him just how much you've missed him.

✧ TAGS: NOT BETA READ, established relationship, and they live together now!, take a bite couple are still bonafide workaholics i fear, just pure smut honestly, THESE TWO ARE CRAZY IT IS THE MORNING!, warnings under the cut, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

✧ WORDCOUNT: 2.8k words

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: got a request for oral (m. receiving) with yoongi, and decided i wanted to turn it into a take a bite drabble because i missed these two! can stand alone, but feel free to read take a bite if you want added context! also i know the song doesn't fit the vibe of this AT ALL but it is what it is. even when they're gross they're cute sorry

✧ WARNINGS: light (but consensual) somnophilia? see: the established relationship tag, oral (m. receiving), deepthroating, hair pulling, dirty talk (including the use of sl*t but MC is so down with it), vaginal fingering, spanking, the thank you joke hasn’t died yet, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls), rough sex, choking, hand/finger kink (who is surprised), BACKSHOTSSSS!!! (pls lmk if i missed anything)

Yoongi’s had a rough week.

Naturally a light sleeper, you usually at least stir when the bed dips beside you, but you have no recollection of Yoongi’s late return from the studio last night.

It must’ve been really fucking late, then. Not that that’s totally unusual. 

Living together these past few months has done little to mitigate either of your workaholic tendencies. If anything, you’ve both picked up more hours as a result, since there’s less pressure to actively set aside time for each other within both of your busy schedules. You don’t have to, not when you’re guaranteed to see each other every single day. 

Which, from an outsider’s perspective, may look kind of shitty at the surface. Why be in a relationship if you don’t make time for each other? But with Yoongi, it just… works. For both of you.

It works, because when you and Yoongi do get to spend uninterrupted hours together, you both always milk them for everything they’re worth. You go out for dinner instead of eating in. If you’re both feeling social, you invite your friends over. You shower together—or, if it’s been a particularly hard week, take a bath. Talk for hours and catch up on everything you’ve missed.

Living with Yoongi, it’s just… It’s everything you’d hoped for and more.

Not to mention Yoongi is pretty much the dream roommate.

“Yah, don’t call me that,” he’d complained the first time you’d told him as much. Scrunched his nose at you so cutely. “I’m your boyfriend. I worked hard to earn that title, thanks.”

“Well, it goes without saying that you’re my dream boyfriend,” you’d replied, cooing and squishing his cheeks when the tips of his ears turned pink in response. “Two things can be true at once, Yoongi.”

He takes the trash out. Always cooks enough for two. Never leaves hair in the sink when he shaves. Lets you use his expensive skincare products (which are, infuriatingly, much better than yours) whenever you want. And no matter how late he gets home, he always showers before he even touches the bed—because being holed up in the studio for days doesn’t exactly leave him smelling like a daisy.

Despite how late it must’ve been, last night was no exception, apparently.

It’s rare for Yoongi to fall asleep in such a state of undress—he’s a t-shirt and sweatpants guy, even in the dead of summer—but when you wake up wrapped around him, you’re pleasantly surprised by the amount of skin available to you. He must’ve been too exhausted after his shower, stumbling to bed clad only in his boxer briefs.

You’re even more pleasantly surprised to find that, despite the man himself being completely conked the fuck out, Yoongi’s cock is very much awake. Poking you insistently where your leg is thrown over his body.

There are downsides to your shared workaholism. Like, Yoongi’s been coming home exhausted all week, and you haven’t had his cock in even longer. Which is fine. You don’t need sex. It is a little embarrassing, though, how just the feeling of his erection pressed against you fucking floods your panties. Brings a whole new meaning to Skinner’s box.

So you weigh your options. You could just let Yoongi sleep. It’s Saturday, after all. He has nowhere to be, as far as you know.

Orrrrr… you could do something else for him—wake him up in a way he’d surely appreciate very, very much. And you love an appreciative Yoongi.

Yeah… Fuck it.

Shifting the blankets earns you a sleepy grumble, but you ignore it and shimmy down the bed, gently maneuvering Yoongi’s body so you can fit yourself between his legs.

Shit, he really is so hard, straining against black fabric. When you lean forward to kiss down the thin trail of hair leading under his waistband, a barely-there touch where he’s aching, his cock twitches instantly. Sensitive, too.

Yoongi barely stirs when you pull the waistband down, dragging his boxer briefs as far as they’ll go in this position. If you were him, you’d already be awake by now. But lucky for you,Yoongi’s a much heavier sleeper than you are. Instead, you get to ogle him as much as you want with absolutely no judgement.

And you do, because fuck, your boyfriend is hot. Even when his face looks stupid because he’s asleep, he’s still criminally sexy. His hair has been getting longer recently, ends curling out at the base of his neck. Soft, smooth skin that you want to slide your hands all over. Long fingers that twitch slightly when you lick a stripe up the underside of his cock. Lean muscle that tenses when you wrap your lips around his tip where he’s leaking already, from so little.

You tease him a little at first, because you can get away with it like this. Wrapping your hand around the base of him, you suck his tip shallowly into your mouth, just getting a taste. Further up the bed, you hear an intake of breath, a soft murmur that you can’t quite decipher into real words.

It’s been a long time since you’ve had him in your mouth like this. Not that he doesn’t like it—you know he does, given the way he praises you so filthily when he does have you on your knees for him. Yoongi’s just a giver by nature, and with how little you’ve been able to touch each other lately, he’s more likely to have his head between your legs rather than the other way around. Or he just fucks you. It’s been a while, but when you’re both up for it, he always fills you up so fucking good. Gives it to you nice and slow until you can’t help but beg him to fuck you harder, faster, moremoremore—

Jesus, yeah, you can’t tease anymore. You don’t have the patience he does to drag things out.

In one smooth motion, you’re swallowing him up, bracing your hands on the mattress so you can get the right angle to take him as far as you can.

The stretch makes your eyes water. Your throat puts up a valiant effort to keep him out, to tense up at the intrusion. You’ve never done this without his guidance, but you take a moment to fucking relax. You remember to breathe through your nose like he always tells you to, accepting the thickness of his cock into your throat nice and slow. As slow as you possibly can with how eager you are.

Above you, Yoongi lets out a groan. A strangled, breathy thing that spurs you on even more. When your nose reaches the soft trail of hair beneath his belly button, you suddenly feel the weight of his hand on the back of your head. Gentle, just resting there.

You wonder if he’s awake now. You wouldn’t be surprised, but you’ve also seen Yoongi sleep through the combined karaoke efforts of Jimin and Jeongguk. Singing Linkin Park. Loudly. 

Still, you focus your efforts on moving now that you’ve taken all of him, chin slick with spit and pre-cum as you slowly start to bob your head, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth as you try to suppress a gag.

“Fuck,” Yoongi says, voice gravelly with sleep. Fuck, his voice. It’s so unfair that just the sound of his voice when he wakes up instantly makes your neglected cunt clench with need.

You feel the bed shift under you, feel his fingers tighten slightly in your hair. You pause and chance a glance up at him through your lashes only to find him now fully awake, moving to sit up against the pillows. Eyes pitch black.

Carefully, you pull off of his cock with a sticky pop, catching your breath for a second. You’re grinning when you look up at him again.

“Good morning.” 

“Good fucking morning,” Yoongi practically growls, rubbing at the saliva on your chin with his thumb. “Don’t stop on my account.”

You’d make fun of him for his eagerness, but shit, you are so not in the position to, not with the way your thighs are rubbing together. Instead, you do as he says, surging back down.

“Shit,” he groans, his hand in your hair guiding the wet heat of your mouth up and down the length of his cock now, not bothering to be gentle about it. You’re not taking him as far anymore, but he doesn’t seem to give a shit, not with the way his head falls back against the headboard, bottom lip bitten as he looks at you.

“What a way to wake up,” Yoongi murmurs, grunting when he pushes you a little too far, like he’s reveling in the way it makes you sputter. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

His praise makes you whine around him, your eyes squeezing shut as you force your throat around his cock again, swallowing.

“Good girl, just like that.”

You can tell he’s getting close by the way his thighs tense under you, and you slide the seal of your mouth up on his shaft, fully prepared to wrap your hand around his base and finish what you started. But then—

“C’mere,” Yoongi murmurs, using his hand in your hair to pull you off of his cock, ignoring your pitiful whine as he drags you up into his lap.

“You were about to cum,” you protest, although there’s no heat to it. Not when you can feel the warmth of him against the last scrap of fabric separating you. Not when you can grind down, finally getting the friction you’ve been desperate for since you woke up.

“So?” Deft fingers find the waistband of your panties, wasting no time in slipping underneath. You both groan when he discovers the way you’ve been dripping for him, easily fucking two fingers into your tight heat. “Holy shit, you’re soaked.”

“S’been a long time,” you whine as Yoongi expertly locates that sensitive spot inside of you, rubbing against it at a ruthless pace. “Fuck, Yoongi!”

“Been a long time, huh?” he teases, the picture of calm as he noses the side of your neck. “Weren’t you riding my face just a few days ago, baby?”

“Not the same,” you pant, fingers grasping at his shoulders as he makes you see stars. “N-need your cock, need it so fucking bad, fuck.”

“Yeah? You need it? My mouth isn’t enough for you, is that it?” Yoongi admonishes, chuckling when you shake your head because no, fuck, that isn’t what you meant. “When did my sweet girl turn into such a needy slut for me?”

Oh.

Before you have a chance to react, he surges forward, slotting his lips with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss.

Shit, you’re gonna cum. Embarrassingly fast, but you’re so goddamn worked up, and when he says shit like that—

“I’ve been neglecting you, huh, baby?” he coos as he pulls away, withdrawing his fingers so fast it makes your head spin. You don’t have time to complain though, because then he’s slapping your thigh with a gravelly, “All fours, pretty girl.”

Fuck, yes.

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. Eagerly, you clamber out of his lap, immediately shifting yourself into position.

“Look at you,” he huffs, moving behind you to roughly shuck your panties down your legs, the fabric trapped at your knees.

You whine as you feel him run his tip teasingly through your soaked folds, desperate for him to just fucking get on with it already, shit. 

“Fuck yeah, you want it so bad,” he groans appreciatively, using his free hand to land a sharp smack on your ass as you try to wiggle back onto his cock. “So fuckin’ desperate for my cock.”

“Stop fucking teasing—”

Your protests cut off into a strangled moan as he buries himself to the hilt in one smooth motion, clutching your sides so roughly you feel like you’ll bruise. “What was that?”

“Yoongi,” you gasp, adjusting to the feeling of being filled by him again, just skin on skin. You swallow harshly as he brings a hand up to your neck, pressing his lips against your clothed shoulder.

“You know what to say, baby,” he purrs, pulling out all the way just to thrust back in again, twice as hard this time.

“Thank you!” you cry out, your eyes rolling back in your head at the combined sensation of his cock filling you and his fingers squeezing your throat. “Fuck, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou!”

“That’s my fuckin’ girl,” Yoongi growls, his hips snapping roughly against your ass. “Knew you would remember your manners.”

It’s so good. It’s so fucking good, but it’s not enough, not like this. You can feel the warmth of your impending orgasm spreading through your body already, picking up right where you left off when his fingers were inside you, but you need more.

“Y-Yoongi, please,” you whimper pitifully, pushing your ass back into his movements. “Please, I need—”

“Still not enough for you, huh?” Yoongi says mockingly, his hand sliding down from your neck to grope roughly at your tits through your shirt. “Thought you needed my cock.”

“I-I do, I do,” you sob, grasping at the sheets under you. “I just—”

Your words are cut off by two long digits slipping between your lips. You don’t even fucking think about it as you wrap your lips around them greedily and suck. “There you go,” he coos. “Is that what you needed, baby?”

How the fuck did he know?

Exhaling sharply through your nose, you moan in response, the sound muffled by his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he groans, his hips stuttering slightly. “Squeezing around me so tight. You gonna cum, baby?”

Helplessly, you nod, tears welling up in your eyes from the pure pleasure of it as he fucks you into the mattress.

“Then cum,” he growls, using his free hand to push you back down onto your hands before reaching down to rub at your clit.

That’s all you need. Your pussy flutters frantically around him and then you’re cumming hard, drool coating your chin as you cry out around his fingers.

“Shit, holy fuck,” Yoongi moans urgently, pulling the digits from your mouth with a pop as his rhythm falters significantly. “Where do you want it?”

You can’t think, let alone speak, so instead you drop down onto your elbows, arching your back in lieu of an answer. Quickly, he pushes your shirt up to your shoulders and pulls out. You can hear the sound of his urgent strokes, wet and filthy, before he spills onto your back with a groan.

Thoroughly spent, you crumple fully onto the mattress with a whimper, the sounds of Yoongi’s labored breathing filling your ears.

“God,” he huffs, giving your ass one final slap before the mattress dips with his weight next to you. You turn your head to face him, greeted by an exhausted (but still gummy) smile.

“Good morning,” you huff, fond as the pleasant buzz of your orgasm gives way to something softer.

“Good morning yourself.” Yoongi glances at the clock on his bedside table. Because he still uses an analong fucking alarm clock, the grandpa. “You know it’s Saturday, right?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And?”

“And, we both totally could’ve slept in.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you would’ve rathered sleep over the sex?” you quip, sitting up on your elbows carefully so as not to spill his release onto the mattress.

“Not at all,” he hums lifting his head to glance at your back appreciatively. “Just making sure you’re aware.”

“Mm.”

“What brought this on?” Yoongi teases, leaning forward to kiss your shoulder gently before moving to stand and pull his underwear back into place, searching for a towel to wipe you down with. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’ve been working a lot,” you explain, closing your eyes as he cleans your back gently. “I wanted to do something nice for you. And I missed you. You know, because I love you. A lot.”

Tossing the towel into the nearby hamper, Yoongi sits on the bed next to you. “I love you too, baby,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You have the weekend off?”

“Mhm,” you hum, content.

“Me too,” he says softly, smiling at you. “Lemme make you breakfast.”

As if on cue, your stomach growls against the mattress, earning an amused snort from Yoongi.

“Yeah, okay,” you concede, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before he gets up again, heading towards the door. “Just let me shower first. I’m all gross because of you.”

Yoongi leans against the doorframe, chuckling darkly as he glances at your half-naked form.

“Might as well not,” he murmurs, tilting his head at you. “I’m nowhere near done with you. We just have to eat first.”

With that, he turns around and opens the bedroom door, leaving you flushed and speechless as he heads to the kitchen to make you breakfast.

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[quin-ns]

The blue (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for

Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)

A/N: first series I’ve finished and I could not be more excited to share! please read the tags and if the subject matter is uncomfortable to you, you do not have to read. this one is a wild ride guys, I can’t wait for you to see what I have in store 🫶

Series masterlist + OBX masterlist

JJ didn’t really understand how this happened, but it did. When he tried to trace it all back, there wasn’t really one big moment. Just a bunch of small individual moments that amounted to… this. This feeling. This thing that kept him up at night that he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

He’d never been in love before, so it took JJ awhile to realize that’s what he felt for you.

Or maybe it was the denial. The moral part of his brain telling him it wasn’t normal. Your mom was married to his dad, so according to everyone else’s rules that made you his sister—even if he didn’t think about you in that context anymore.

He used to, when you both were younger. But that was before your mom got arrested. A large part of why JJ was so happy when you came into his life was because his dad eased up on him, finding some semblance of happiness with your mom.

But she wasn’t exactly perfect. To be with his dad, JJ always wondered what was wrong. As it would turn out, she had serious issues. Although, what they got her for was being a tax cheat. It added up how they could’ve met after that.

It was getting to be around… what, a little over a year since that happened? JJ couldn’t really keep track of the months and you never liked to talk about it.

As much as JJ loved his father, he knew he wasn’t a good guy. It didn’t matter if he wanted him to be. So it surprised him when his dad still let you stay with them. You’d been around since you were both about thirteen, so even if his dad didn’t think of himself as responsible for you (or even JJ), he at least cared enough to not throw you to the street.

That was about the same JJ got from him. Recognizing that is what brought you closer to him.

Sure, you’d been sort of close growing up, but not really. You mostly spent time with your mom and your own friends. Then, when everything went down, you lost your mom and your friends followed not long after. He saw the puffiness in your eyes when you’d come home and go to your room for the whole night. No one to hang out with after school and nowhere to go on a Saturday night. They had ditched you, apparently deciding that mocking you was more important than being there for you. It made his stomach hurt to see you in such a state. You didn’t smile for days.

So JJ, being the good step brother that he was, stepped in. He took you under his wing and brought your smile back.

You fit in well with his friends, easily becoming a part of the group. They liked having you around. JJ felt like he got to know you in a way he hadn’t ever before.

It was selfish, but you made being at home easier. You kept him company when he stayed up too late and made sure to wake him up in the morning so he wouldn’t be late to work whatever odd job he had at the time.

Whenever his dad hit him, which started again not long after your mom was locked up, you were there to take care of him.

You were so sweet with him. Your eyes always full of care and touches gentle as you cleaned his cuts or iced his bruises. It made it hurt less.

After one night when his dad hit him extra hard, leaving a cut from one of his rings on JJ’s face, you came to his aid as you frequently did. His dad stormed out after. It was just the two of you as you cleaned his face. You had him sit on the couch and stood over him, one hand holding his face while the other held a cloth to make sure the cut was clean.

As JJ stared up at you, your frustrated words about his father falling on deaf ears, one jarring thought crossed his mind.

You should kiss her.

He’d immediately stood up, snapping himself out of whatever daze he was in, and went to his room. You’d tried to talk to him, but he brushed you off and said he was tired. When he asked to be left alone, which was rare, you did.

He didn’t sleep most of the night. Instead he stared up at his ceiling wondering where that thought had even come from. He’d never had it before. From that moment on, JJ started to become much more aware of everything you did—everything you did for him.

Of course his friends loved him and cared about him, and he did the same for them, but with you something about it just felt different. You were by his side nearly every moment of the day. You saw things they didn’t. You were there when they couldn’t be.

You became everything to JJ. There was no other way to put it.

That was a couple months ago. Since then his confusing feelings had morphed into something far more.

JJ was deeply, madly in love with you. It was not something a guy should be with his step sister, but he was. He didn’t really deal with it, just shoved it down and tried to ignore it. It was hard, especially when he was around you every single day, but JJ had done his best.

JJ would catch himself staring at you more than he’d admit, but no one seemed to notice. No one would suspect what he was thinking anyway. He made excuses to touch you, like a hand on your back when moving past you to get something or draping his arm over your shoulder and leaning on you jokingly. The latter made you laugh, and he’d join you, but he’d still feel a loss when you playfully nudged him away and told him you weren’t an armrest.

Sometimes, when he didn’t care how pathetic it was, he’d let himself drink too much just so he could lean on you when you’d help him inside. When he pulled that stunt, he’d often get lucky and you’d even stay by his side to make sure he went to sleep comfortably. And of course whenever his dad struck, fists full of misplaced rage, you were there easing the pain.

JJ resolved to take what he could get and told himself he’d eventually he’d move on.

At least he hoped that’s how it would go. Maybe he’d get lucky and—

“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of JJ’s face. “I’m talking to you.”

JJ blinked. He looked at you, zoning back in. In an instant he remembered what was going on. You and him, along with his three best friends, were all on the beach. The others were in the water, while you had been sunbathing on shore and JJ… well, he’d just been sitting by you, wanting to be in your proximity (and sometimes steal glances when he couldn’t help himself).

But now you were on your feet, leaning down as you dropped your hand. JJ’s eyes fell from your face to your chest. He swallowed when he caught a glimpse down your bikini top.

His eyes flicked back to your face. Was that too obvious? He hoped not.

“Sorry, what?”

You gave him a confused look, but laughed and straightened up.

“Do you wanna get in?”

He knew you meant the water. In the distance he saw his friends waving for the two of you to join them.

JJ shook his head. The action felt as if it were in slow motion. Kind of like when he was high, but much less carefree.

“Um, maybe in a bit.”

If he got too distracted he’d probably drown in the ocean. That is if the guilt of keeping his secret from you didn’t do it first.

You shrugged, not able to read him the way you usually could.

“If you’re scared, there might be some floaties somewhere,” you teased as you turned your back, heading for the water.

JJ couldn’t formulate a comeback, too focused on the swing on your hips as you walked away from him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed again, questioning his own self what was wrong with him. He’s never experienced such a desperate feeling before. What were you doing to him?

When he opened his eyes, you were in the water, and he had no answers.

He tried to focus on the sand, the water, the sky. Basically anything but you. He even tried to look at Kiara just to see if it would work, but his eyes always drifted back to you. The ache in his chest grew with each passing minute.

JJ didn’t think much of it when he saw Kiara suddenly haul herself up onto Pope’s shoulders, but he felt like he got kicked in the stomach when you climbed onto John B’s.

John B’s arms locked around your legs, the two of you laughing loudly as you steadied yourself. JJ could hear it from shore. You weren’t that far out. JJ knew he was focusing far more than necessary because he saw the way your hands brushed John B’s hair out of his face as he tilted his head back to look up at you.

Even from where he was, JJ could see how you smiled down at John B. It was innocent and friendly, and it made him incredibly jealous.

You and Kiara started to go at it, trying to knock the other into the water.

JJ didn’t think anyone noticed when he stood and walked down to the edge of the sand.

“You’re going down!” Kiara shouted, her hands interlocked with and pushing against yours as you both refused to budge.

You laughed loudly. It was like music.

It took one exchanged look from you and John B to formulate a plan. It was the kind of silent communication that JJ thought you reserved for him.

You let Kiara lean a lot of weight on you, and that’s where your advantage was. In an instant you relaxed your grip and John B stepped to the side. The other girl, and Pope beneath her, wobbled. It was over in a second. The two shouted right before they crashed down into the water.

“Ha!” you exclaimed, raising your hands in the air while John B whooped and hollered in celebration.

Kiara and Pope emerged, both rolling their eyes. It was their turn to share a look. As JJ waded into the water he figured out their plan.

With the two of them jumping at John B, it was easy to knock him off his feet. JJ’s eyes went a little wide when you fell into the water with a crash.

“Did you see that?” Kiara yelled with a grin when she spotted JJ.

“Kinda hard to miss,” he responded, looking around the water. It had been a few seconds and you had yet to reappear.

“They’re just messing with us,” Pope commented on your and John B’s absence, but his words started to sound less sure by the end.

Another long beat of silence passed. The waves grew still.

“This isn’t funny anymore!” Kie shouted.

JJ felt a twinge of panic, awful scenarios flashing through his head. It didn’t matter how unlikely they were.

Suddenly, water erupted. John B arose with a splash, you clinging to his back. He roared dramatically while shoving water towards Kie and Pope. They screamed as the waves hit them, trying and failing to shield themselves.

“Revenge!” you yelled in a maniacal manner, chin on John B’s shoulder.

“Truce! Truce!” Kie and Pope both yelled, spitting out saltwater.

John B paused, and JJ noticed how close his face was to yours when he turned his head.

“Should we forgive them?” John B deferred to you.

You hummed thoughtfully. “I think they learned their lesson,” you decided. Your gaze, which had been focused on John B, shifted past him. “Hey, look who made it!”

JJ realized you were talking to him. He forced a smile, smothering the jealousy he felt at seeing you and John B in the position you were in. It seemed weirdly close for you two. You and John B weren’t usually touchy-feely-piggyback-ride friends.

John B seemed to pick up on JJ’s shift in demeanor, because his smile was a little more contained as he said, “Hey, man.”

JJ figured his friend didn’t get that he was jealous, which was for the best. Everyone knew JJ was protective over you. John B probably thought JJ was questioning his intentions as your brother. Why would it be anything else?

“Nice victory,” JJ replied, having nothing better to say. He didn’t even grit his teeth, so he counted that as a win for himself.

Tension eased as you all decided to just chat and relax in the water until the sun set.

Although, JJ kept an eye on John B, noticing how his friend kept an eye on you.

When it got dark you all began to head back to the shore. JJ found himself at your side as he usually did. Your steps fell in line with his as you looked up.

“You feeling okay?” you asked lightly. You must’ve sensed his attitude shift, even if it was subtle. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

JJ couldn’t help the urge to smile at how well you knew him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, not wanting to concern you. He liked when you worried about him, but this was the one time when he didn’t want you pressing for him to open up. “Are you?”

JJ reached to ruffle your damp hair. You swatted his hand away before he could do any real damage.

“Very funny,” you grumbled. Your expression shifted to a smile, then softened. There was something careful about it. “If something was up, you’d tell me, right?”

JJ swallowed, trying to avoid the way your eyes searched his. He had to look forward before he could answer.

“Yeah, of course,” he assured.

JJ didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, but he remembered everyone sitting around the living room.

Wait, no. That wasn’t right.

The porch. Everyone has been sitting on the porch, drinking and laughing together. He recalled cramming himself into a chair next to you. He’d played it off like a joke. Everyone had laughed, and he got to be close to you, so it worked out.

He also remembered following Kiara and Pope inside, expecting you to be behind him.

Everything clicked.

You and John B had elected to stay outside. JJ had been sitting on the couch, watching through the window, trying to make out what you were saying through the small opening where the window was cracked for the nighttime breeze.

He must’ve dozed off while waiting for you. That didn’t sound like him—he would’ve been focused on watching you, making sure you made it in. Maybe he had been worn out or you stayed up way too late, or both.

JJ blinked a few times. He was just concerned for your safety, like always. Fenced in porches with lights and his best friend keeping you company could be dangerous…

Yeah, he didn’t even buy that.

It was easier back when JJ believed his own lies and self justifications.

Sitting up, JJ peered out the window. It was the early hours of the morning, right around when it was still dark but you could just tell the sun was about to begin rising. His heart sped up when he found you missing from your chair. You weren’t in any of the other chairs in his view, either.

JJ stood up, feeling more awake than ever. He went right for the door and didn’t care about waking anyone inside up.

“Jeez, man,” John B said suddenly, sounding surprised as he looked at him. JJ had just barged out onto the porch out of nowhere, after all. “You good?”

JJ took a second to observe his friend. He was half-sitting and half-laying back on the couch against the wall. It made sense because he’d been sitting there before. From inside, JJ couldn’t see him, but he didn’t even think about John B’s whereabouts until he stepped out.

Maybe he was a bad friend for that.

He didn’t feel that guilty, though, because he saw where you were. You were curled up on the couch on your side, your head on John B’s thigh. JJ could see how steadily you were breathing, your eyes shut.

JJ looked back at his friend, ready to lash out, but the word ‘irrational’ popped up in his mind and resisted. The scene in front of him didn’t give him anything to be mad about.

Jealous, maybe, but not mad. But he couldn’t act on that feeling either. If he acted jealous, that would invite too many questions that JJ didn’t have a good answer for.

“Fine just…” He ran a hand through his hair and then shook his head. “You guys good?”

John B furrowed his brows a little, but chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re fine. We were just talking and she started to fall asleep and I just let her. She seemed tired and it wasn’t a big deal so...”

“What were you guys talking about?”

“I don’t know, stuff?”

JJ leaned back in the doorway. “Like what, though?”

John B tilted his head a little, shaking it ever so slightly.

“Just… life and stuff. Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” JJ replied, giving the appropriate answer. He looked down at you, noticing you hadn’t stirred. You looked comfortable, and that was very conflicting. All of this was. It made his head hurt. “Has she been asleep long?”

John B met JJ’s eyes when he looked back up from you.

“You sure you’re okay?” John B asked, sounding almost concerned. Or at least confused. Maybe both.

But the answer was no. No he wasn’t.

“Yeah, man,” JJ answered with a shrug. “She probably won’t wake up if you wanna get up and go get some sleep.”

John B looked down at you, then at JJ.

He slowly started to move, being extra careful with your head, making sure to put a cushion beneath you before standing up straight.

John B gave a light, awkward smile to JJ as he neared him. He brushed past to go through the door, turning to face JJ.

“You coming?”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna sleep out here,” JJ answered, fighting the urge to look at you. He gave a shrug instead and said, “It’s nice out and I can’t get comfortable on the couch anyway. You can have it—plus I think Kie’s in your bed, so…”

“Right…” John B agreed slowly, glancing at you on the couch again. “You know nothing happened, right?” He looked back at JJ. “We were just talking.”

JJ wasn’t expecting something so direct. “It’s cool man, I know,” he found himself replying. “We’re good.”

John B nodded, albeit slowly. He entered the dark house and JJ shut the door behind him. As a courtesy.

He then turned, spotted the comfiest chair, and resolved to sleep in that for the night. You had stretched out on the couch and looked too peaceful to disturb, even if he did want to take John B’s place from before.

It worked out perfectly. It gave him a clear view of you as he decided to let himself go back to sleep.

As his eyes closed, he wondered if John B would peek through the window just as he had.

If he did, he’d see the content smile on JJ’s face as he drifted off to sleep. For yet another night, JJ got you all to himself. He didn’t want it any other way. He wasn’t sure what he would do.

[ofjunemoment]

getting even | lee haechan (P2)

synopsis —  Haechan promises you that he wasn't the one behind the prank. But he also tells you that he likes you. You're torn between which one you want to believe more.

pairing - haechan x fem!reader

genre - university!au, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, very slice of life, eventual smut (MDNI)

Wc - 19k

content - camping, clubbing (again), smut (MDNI)

warnings: reader is drunk in one scene

a/n - YAYYYYYY here's the final part of getting even!! thank you for waiting patiently and I'm sorry it took this long,, thank you guys so much for your reactions and feedback on the first part, it definitely helped me finish this part quicker than I wouldve! i had so much fun with this haechan, and i hope you guys have fun with him <33 smut tags will be under the cut (not proofread sorry)

this is the second part of the getting even series! make sure to read the first part before reading this ^^

smut tags - fingering, unprotected sex (dont do this <3), oral (m receiving), praises, dirty talk?? like barely...., gets romantic and sappy in the middle sorry, lmk if I missed anything <3

“Is that everything?” Yubin scribbles at her clipboard as Juyeon closes the trunk of the van shut, clapping his hands together to rid of any excess dust.

“Seems like it,” Sohee speaks out softly, but her sigh is unmistakable. “But Jihoon is late. Again,” Everyone looks around for any sign of Jihoon, but it seems like your whole radio club is assembled but him.

“Ah, no worries. I just got a text from him saying he’s on the way. Something about Yubin wanting extra drinks…” Juyeon pipes up. Said club manager flushed as she got called out, waving her hand and scoffing in denial. “I didn’t say that! I just said, you know, that he should bring things to make the trip more… livelier?” For this semester's story scoop, your club had decided to make a trip to the rural farming areas just a few hour's drive south. Juyeon, the modern history major, had said that there was a grasshopper surge that he had decided to study for in his first year of course, which led to everyone being interested in how the farmers reacted to such a phenomenon. And so you all banded together and rented two vans and borrowed Yubin’s car, now filled with equipment and luggages, to stay in the town for two nights and conduct primary research on the topic.

Everyone seems excited one way or another for such an event, viewing this trip as a much-needed break from studying and assignments. Well, everyone except for your beloved friend, Naeun.

“I already feel sticky and we haven’t even started the trip,” Your selective germaphobic friend murmurs as she eyes the camping equipment that is being shoved at the back of the van by Minseok and Soyeon. 

You roll your eyes at her dramatics. “You wouldn’t be complaining like this if Jeno was in the mix,” You lightly shove your shoulder against hers, giggling when she glares at you.

“Jokes on you, I would be saying the same thing. Just with different context,” You grimace at her suggestive brows fluttering at you. Still, before you can let your impulsive thoughts take over and strangle her, you hear the crunch of tires against asphalt. You are met with a car pulling up at the waiting area where your club is waiting.

Jihoon steps out of the car and daps up Juyeon and Minseok, while bowing politely and apologising for being late towards Sohee and Yubin. 

“If it makes you feel better I bought a lot of alcoh—” Yubin's sharp laugh cuts off the rest of his sentence as she smacks at his shoulder a few times, her cackles bordering like a threat. 

“You’re so young and dumb, running your mouth. Oh, to be youthful…now get your shit out of the car.” She pinches his shoulder before gesturing towards the vehicle he’d pulled up in.

“Actually, I was gonna ask for a favour too…” The rest of the sentence goes unnoticed by you as your attention catches on the car that Jihoon has just gotten out of. It seems like he wasn’t the only person, and you hadn’t realised that until the car doors had opened and out stepped Jeno and Haechan.

“No fucking way,” Naeun pales next to you, and the feeling is mutual as your eyes widen on reflex. “We should really try being scared of good grades instead,” 

Jeno steps out of the car holding a box filled with what looks like alcohol and snacks that go along, his sleeveless shirt highlighting his flexed biceps as he carries the box towards where Jihoon is gesturing. Haechan, too, steps out with a box in his grip, adorning a simple shirt and summer shorts, and you can’t pull your eye away from him. Jihoon has his friends distract Yubin and Sohee from his late arrival (it works on the former, not much on the latter) as he guides Haechan and Jeno to shove the boxes in the back of the van you’re taking.

“I even brought extra sleeping bags, they’re new so you don’t have to worry,” His smile stays on even when Yubin pinches at his cheek. “Look at you trying. Hey, we have two extra seats in the vans if you two want to join?” She ignores the sharp look she receives from Sohee as she looks at Jeno and Haechan, who give a glance at each other and then Jihoon, and back to Yubin.

“Thanks for the offer, but I have a game to practice for,” Jeno smiles, and you feel Naeun grip at your wrist. He casts a glance at you, which sends you into a shock before a smile takes over his features. Everyone’s now looking at Haechan, and there’s only one way he can react when he has this much attention on him.

“How could I reject such an offer,” He bats his lashes as Jihoon grapples him into a friendly headlock. 

“I’m done,” You mutter, as everyone bustles around you to get their items in the car, Juyeon and Haechan are discussing how to ration their clothes for the latter to use, while Jihoon pulls out a fully inflatable flamingo from the trunk of his car, trying to somehow persuade Sohee on bringing it along. 

“There isn’t even a pool there!”

“But there’s a lake, no?”

Your shoulders slump in defeat. “Naeun, I’m so done,” Naeun relaxes his grip on your wrist when Jeno waves goodbye to everyone once Jihoon takes all his belongings out of the car. She pats your shoulder encouragingly, prioritising herself now that Jeno isn’t around to send her into a loop.

“You’ll be fine, I mean, he’s probably gonna be preoccupied with Jihoon. You probably won’t be able to even interact with him.”

True to her word, everything was fine. You didn’t even have to share an awkward greeting with him in front of everyone to save face and show that you get along well. Your tasks were assigned briefly by Sohee, and everything fit like it was planned to in the trunk of the vans.

You’re sitting in the back seat of one of the vehicles when the door opens and in comes Haechan. You do a mental check and realise that the only seats left are the two available ones next to you; although one was occupied by Juyeon’s massive skincare bag. As you were about to shove the bag in the middle seat and have Haechan sit on the opposite side, the bag was swiftly taken away by the owner himself.

“Ah, we need to make some space here for you to sit.” His sweet smile comes sinister in your eyes, as you see Haechan looking at the place before sparing a glance at you, the first of the day if anyone was keeping count. Not that you were. 

Seeing the caution in your eyes, he goes to settle himself on the opposite side, leaving the middle space empty for your comfort. As Haechan is trying to settle into the car seat, Jihoon takes a moment to glance inside before disappearing for a quick moment and returning with a pool toy, which he promptly hands to his friend.

“There’s no more space at the trunk,” He shoves it even more at Haechan’s side, making the boy tumble and fall into the middle seat instead, his hand coming in contact with yours. As you flinch, you just manage to realize what is happening before Jihoon closes the car door and heads to the passenger seat. Yubin starts the drive, and you find Naeun and Minseok in the middle row, with Naeun looking back at you with concern evident in her eyes.

You try to wave her off the best you can without Haechan realising, but it seems like he’s too preoccupied battling with the inflatable flamingo. “Why don’t you deflate it and inflate it when we get there?” He calls towards the front of the car at his friend.

Jihoon spins around from his seat and tries to look at Haechan through the gaps from the overshadowing pool toy. “This one’s weird, it doesn’t easily inflate again, so might as well just take it there while it’s fully filled. It’s not a tight fit for you two, is it?” 

Haechan gives the toy one more push and it’s angled in the least invasive way, yet his left side is pressed against you, and you can’t help but focus on the contact that his knee makes against yours, as the warmth of his skin travels easier with the skirt you’re wearing. You try your best to not look at the guy next to you, reminding yourself that it's only a two-hour drive, and you can probably try to sleep through most of it.

“No, we’re okay,” You ease Jihoon’s worries, who smiles brightly at you before turning back around.

Tucking yourself against the car, you try to find an angle that's most comfortable for you to fall asleep in, but while you’re shifting around something blankets your legs. When you open your eyes, you see Haechan placing a jacket on your leg. Where did he even pull this out from?

Looking at him, his gaze follows up from his jacket placed on your leg to your face, giving you a light smile as he tries his best to give you space even in the tight fit. Without a word, he folds himself against the flamingo toy and closes his eyes, ready to sleep. You want to thank him for his gesture, but as you see his breathing steady, you instead decide to follow his lead and shut your eyes, careful with his jacket against your legs. Soon, your eyelids begin to drift down, and your breaths become slower and deeper until you eventually slip into a restful sleep.

After what feels like a few hours, you awaken to find the van has stopped moving, and the rest of the club members have already gathered outside. You take the jacket in your hands and stretch your weary legs out before stepping outside, feeling the cool summer breeze against your face. Naeun’s the first person to realise that you’ve stepped out, waving her hand at you and gesturing you to join their circle.

“Good morning sleeping beauty,” She teases when you catch up, bumping her shoulder against yours.

“Alright guys, there are four tents, three of them fitting two people and one fitting three. You can pair up and grab them and set up at this area.” Sohee ticks off things on the clipboard, not taking her eyes off of it as she informs your group. “Try to be done by one, we’ll take a drive down to the village area and have lunch before we take a look around and see if there’s anyone who’s willing to be interviewed.” People have started to gather their bags from around their feet, ready to set up the tents. “And be careful about the space, we don’t want to be too crowded because it’s already hot enough. I know the lake is just a few minutes walk away from here, but refrain fro—”

“Let’s start setting up, yeah?” Yubin claps her hands together, effectively cutting her partner off and letting everyone disperse. 

As you find an area to set up your tent, you’re not even done with hammering in the corners of the tent into the ground before you hear your friend groan. 

"I never imagined they'd make us actually set up our own tents on this trip," Naeun sighs.

"Oh, come on, it's not that hard," you retort. "Besides, it's all part of the experience, isn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that," Naeun laughs.

"Hey, I'm serious! This is meant to be fun," you reply with a smile. As you near the end of your process, you take a moment to look around the camping area. In the middle of a faux circle your tents are making is a general campfire and dock, where most of the snacks and drinks are placed, ready for consumption at later times in the day. Looking at everyone setting up their respective tents, you catch a glimpse of Haechan and Jihoon working diligently. Haechan’s back faces you as he hammers in the corner of his tents to the ground, and you’re only taken away from such a view when Naeun clears her throat.

“I’m innocent,” You don’t even look at her as you say this. Rolling her eyes at your helpless behaviour, your friend turns to the two of them setting up, before feigning a voice of interest. “Oh! Did you guys set up next to us? We’re neighbours now,” Jihoon looks up and smiles cheekily, indulging in your friends' reactions as he starts to talk about how excited he is about the trip. Meanwhile, Haechan merely glances at her, before his eyes shift past her figure and land on you. 

You shift in place at his gaze, meekly lifting a hand to wave hello, unable to think of anything else. A gleaming smile breaks out on his features as the corner of his lips tilts up, laughing at your awkward behaviour. You break eye contact, not wanting to spend another second subjecting yourself to being ridiculed like this. When you do, your eyes fall into the lent jacket folded and perched on top of your bag, a reminder that you’re yet to give it back.

When you and Naeun shove your bags into the tent and zip the entry close halfway, you hear a clap echo from behind you, where Yubin stands in the middle of the dock. 

“Is everyone done? Come around so we can do a quick brief before we go into the village,” When you all circle around her and the other club leader, a quick rundown is given to you of what is to expect when you head down to the village. You will all go around the village as a group, asking the residents about their knowledge of the grasshopper surge and if they’re willing to participate in a form of interview

The drive to the village was less squished as all the items you’ve packed have been unloaded, and you are able to view the beautiful scenery you had missed while asleep on the way here. Soyeon reaches over and tries to point at the best scenery for you to view, while Minseok tries to distract you by claiming to see a cow every few seconds.

You arrive at the village entrance, your windows rolled down to take in the fresh air and appreciate the charming farming fields spread out before you. The trees swing with the light summer breeze, while the shine of the sun highlights the bright-coloured fruits hanging off of the different gardens of each house. The houses are all clustered together, no doubt creating an easy atmosphere for friendliness between neighbours.

As you exit the van, your eyes slowly wander around to take in the sights of the village. Juyeon spots a few kids running around and playing with large hoola hoops, exchanging a friendly smile and wave with them. Both Yubin and Jihoon seem excited to wander around, quickly taking the opportunity to explore the quaint village by walking into the streets.

It’s quiet as you pass by the houses, with the people no doubt staying inside to have a nice lunch while staving off the heat. “I think there’s a good Naengmyeon store just a few minutes walk.” Sohee looks at both her phone and the clipboard alternatively, before starting her journey without a glance behind her. 

As you follow Sohee, you and Naeun walk side by side, taking in the fields and their vacancy. “It’s so serene,” she chimes.

You hum, “It must be so relaxing to live here, even the weather is good,” You stretch your arms out to get a better feel. “If I was living here I wouldn’t have a single complaint. I bet they all must be nice too,” 

“If I lived here,” Jihoon chimes, “I would be one of those old people that walks around with a stick I just found on the ground,” 

“I would live here with you,” Haechan adds with a smile. “Just so I can break your stick and laugh when you fall,” 

Jihoon jokingly goes to wrap his arms around Haechan, who tries to defend himself by delivering jabs into his friend’s waist. Your group laughs at their antics before suddenly being made to take a sharp left.

The quietness that existed two seconds before the turn is now all gone, as you’re met with the bustle of what you assume is the village centre. Market stalls litter around as kids run through their gaps. People gather around shaded decks, fanning themselves with various objects as middle-aged women gossip around. Even the two restaurants are bustling, but when Sohee goes to the one she had previously found, they miraculously provide tables for all nine of you, splitting into groups of four and five.

As fate would have it, you’re seated with Haechan and Jihoon, with the latter too oblivious to the stiff body language you and Naeun now harbour. Haechan provides a tight smile, but his friend goes on about how he’s starving. He calls for the owner of the place and orders your food.

The woman looks to be around sixty years old, and it’s obvious that you’re all thinking the same thoughts; she would be a good candidate to interview. “Anything else,” She jabs when you all silently look at her. 

Jihoon, ever the extrovert, sacrifices himself. “Ah, actually ma’am, I hope this doesn’t sound rude, but how old are you?” You can’t help but wince at his choice of sentence, now looking anywhere but at either one of their directions. Haechan purses his lips while Naeun coughs and goes to cover her face with her hand.

You feel more than hear her anger radiating off of the poor woman, as she shoves her hand into her apron pockets defensively. “My, talk about ‘not wanting to sound rude’,” She mocks. “Might as well ask what my income is, or better yet, the size of my br—”

“Please don’t misunderstand! I was just curious because I’m here to—”

“Just wait for your food and eat it diligently before I decide to kick you out,” Jihoon shrinks back in his seat, nodding his head solemnly. She tsks one more time before sauntering off, groaning and muttering under her breath as she goes.

“That couldn’t have gone any better,” Haechan pats his friend's shoulder, before tucking his chair further away from him, his foot bumping against you in the process. You share brief eye contact, about to share some awkward niceties before Jihoon goes to strangle him, something that occurs constantly it seems. You turn to Naeun, who looks back at you at the same time, with what you guess is the same bewilderment evident in your eyes. You burst out into laughter, leaning into one another as you take in what had happened

When you’ve all licked your bowls clean and had Jihoon semi-formally apologise for offending the lady, the group decided to saunter around the centre in order to find people to interview. 

“Okay, not a hard task.” Yubin looks at the clipboard that Sohee holds in her grasp, turning back to look at all of you. “We just need to be friendly, and boom, interview opportunity. But in case that doesn’t work, let’s have Jihoon-” The boy in question groans, “And Soyeon go around and try to conduct a mini questionnaire. Just simple questions like how long they’ve lived here, what their occupation is, and then find a leeway to ask about the grasshoppers.” Yubin clasps her hands together, and when no one budges, she starts shooing you off. Jihoon and Soyeon, the two clear extroverts of the group walk away, while Minseok starts dragging Juyon in the direction of a doughnut shop he wanted to try. Yubin and Sohee have their own way of handling things, which leaves you with Haechan and Naeun.

Naeun decides to be the icebreaker this time around, as she turns to both Haechan and you. “Yay! We’re our own trio now,” She makes some jazz hands as she says, “Just like old times in the Beehive club,” Your smile turns sour at the mention of the club.

You cross your hands in front of you in thought. “How can we approach someone about this?” You questioned out loud, but Haechan smiled at you before patting a hand on his chest.

“I can charm anyone over the age of fourty-five, it’s a hidden talent of mine. Alongside being able to juggle five things at the same time—”

“—There’s no way you can juggle five things at the same time.”

“... Do you want my help or not?” You and Naeun shove two thumbs up each in motivation before the boy takes a deep breath and starts scanning the area. With the bustle of lunchtime, there are a lot of people going around, some now setting up their dessert market stalls. 

Haechan shoots his chance by going up to a grandpa who walks by, wearing long sleeves and pants to stave off the burn of the sunlight. “Hi, sorry to bother but do you think you would be… interested…” The man kept walking as if nothing had happened, barely blinking when Haechan had come up to him. “Okay, that’s okay. Maybe he was hard of hearing?” As if on cue, the man waves as someone calls his name, going up to them and maintaining a conversation.

Now you have to find someone else. Simultaneously, all of your gazes fall on this one old lady pushing her cart, with a bit of a struggle if the minute movements of the cart are anything to go by.

Haechan makes his way through to her. “Aye, it must be hard for you to carry all of this alone. Let me help you miss,” He flashes his charming smile and you can’t help but find him endearing. In the summer heat, his cheeks look warmer than usual, as the shine of the sun reflects off his skin gleamingly. He looks cute, and you suddenly feel a sort of ache bloom in you.

The grandma squints for a while as she looks up at Haechan’s figure looming over her, and you would too if you were in her position; he’s practically beaming. But when she lifts her hand off of the handles of the carriage, it isn’t to give the boy reign but rather to deliver a hard-hitting smack at his shoulder.

You flinch and Naeun lets out a shocked shriek, as Haechan’s eyes widen, hand coming up to his bicep as he steps back.

“Damn city boy, you’re in my way!” She trudges off, and you all can’t help but look at her retreating back, the ring of her cart mocking your attempts.

It was difficult to try again after those failed attempts (you found it cute as Haechan would pout every now and then while he rubbed at his shoulder), but when Minseok and Juyeon had come back with three successful participants, you had all suddenly felt extremely competitive. 

And so you tried again, and again, and once more. Finally, a lady who was selling tanghulu had asked about your reason for visiting this town, to which she had nodded earnestly when finding out you were here to know more about the grasshopper surge. She later agreed enthusiastically when you had asked with your sweetest voice if she doesn’t mind being interviewed about it, going as far as to invite you to her house.

“Ah, we don’t wanna intrude on your privacy,” You had started shaking your hands about, but the lady merely tched at your behaviour. “Nonsense, if anything, you can do me a favour by coming in and keeping me company,” She gestured at her meek stall, and you couldn’t help but smile sweetly and nod.

With all of the interviews and mini-questionnaires secured, your group popped back into the van and ventured back to your camping grounds. Your village centre trip had taken a few hours to finish, and it was no surprise that by the time you had gone back, it was dark, and you were hungry once more.

Soyeon giggled next to you when she heard your stomach grumble. “I can make a mean shin ramen if you’d like,” You were about to bashfully thank her for offering before Juyeon loudly spoke up.

“You’re hungry too right? See Yubin, we should start the fire and barbeque now!” A bit more whining occurs before the fire pit is finally lit. In the dark of the summer night, a light breeze still comes around now and then. You drape a blanket stolen from your tent over your and Naeun’s legs, sitting on the log as everyone tends to a different part of the camping experience.

Yubin and Juyeon get busy with making the food, while Jihoon crowns himself as the bartender of the night, but instead of mixing drinks he merely passes them around and encourages everyone to take a sip before the food gets ready. Sohee quietly sets up a corner of the circle for smores to be made without risking the marshmallows from catching on fire, and a bit to her left sits Haechan, who sips at his bottle of beer while looking at the fire.

It seems like even the warm tone of the fire compliments his skin a lot, and you can’t help but look in his direction constantly, your eyes not wanting to look away. Naeun drones about a cute bag she had seen in the market earlier in the day, but your eyes are stuck on his features, pouted lips glistening after each sip of his drink, his fingers fiddling with one another against the bottle and then tapping at his knee. 

The sounds around you muffle as you focus on the contrasts of the dark summer night and the orange-yellow flame of the fire against the boy. You feel your stomach fluttering as you come to realise that the nervous feeling you harbour around him is a result of your blooming affection for him. 

Suddenly, you feel a warm gaze on you, and you turn to see Haechan's eyes fixed on you, with a gentle, understanding gaze. Your pulse quickens each moment you lock eyes, and it’s hard to bring yourself out of this reverie.

In the middle of enjoying this blissful moment with him, your heart fluttering and your eyes locked onto his, you startle as you feel someone tap on your shoulder.

You turn around to see Naeun looking at you, a slight frown on her face.

"What's wrong?" You ask her. Naeun shakes her head slightly and looks back in Haechan's direction.

"Have you been noticing Haechan's strange behaviour recently?" She whispers to you. Your brows furrow, but you can’t bring yourself to look at the boy anymore. “What makes you say that?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, it kinda feels like he’s silently brewing something.” She taps her fingers against her chin as she thinks. “Or maybe I’m just making things up, I need a drink” She shrugs and quickly goes to stand up, heading towards Jihoon’s direction, who beams when your friend asks for a stronger drink.

The night continues with the food getting annihilated less than five minutes of it being cooked, and everyone mixing their spirits just to experience drunken fun quickly. A few impromptu singing sessions occur, and a very terrible round of truth or dare as Minseok decides to make everything hard by saying such as “I dare you to down two shots or give me fifty-thousand won”. No one was pleased with his low blow.

You know it’s time for you to head off to bed when your eyelids start drooping even when everyone is singing at the top of their lungs. You pat Naeun’s knee as you stand up, with her barely noticing as she tries to match her adlibs to the song. 

“I’m gonna head off to bed now,” As she nods back at you, you tuck the blanket back on her knees before shuffling away and towards your tent. Retrieving some things from your bag inside your tent, you hear some shuffling to your left as you head back out. Haechan stands at his tent situated next to yours seemingly calling it a night too as his hands carry his toothbrush and toothpaste.

You’re not sure where you got the confidence to speak first, but Haechan’s soft gaze illuminated by the moonlight eases you. “You’re heading to bed too?”

“Yeah,” He exhales. “I don’t think I can handle two more hours of a Bruno Mars medley. Even I have my limits.” The smile on his face grows as he looks at you, cheeks full of adoration.

As you stand there, a thought tugs at the back of your mind, a memory that you almost missed amidst the camaraderie and laughter earlier. With a sudden realisation, you remember that you still have Haechan's jacket that he lent you earlier. Feeling a little guilty and nervous, you quickly retrieve it from your bag, tugging at the sleeves of the jacket and straightening any creases.

"Actually, speaking of limits," you start, your voice a touch sheepish, "I kind of borrowed your jacket when it got cold. Sorry, I didn't know exactly when I should give it back."

His eyes widen in mock surprise, a playful grin curving on his lips. "You mean you stole my jacket?" he teases, an eyebrow raised.

You roll your eyes playfully. "Borrowed, Haechan. Borrowed."

He chuckles, his gaze dropping to the jacket you're holding out. "Well, I guess I can let you off the hook this time."

You let out a relieved laugh, a weight lifting off your shoulders. Haechan's fingers brush against yours as he takes the jacket from you, his touch lingering and warm against you. His eyes, usually full of mischief, now seem to hold a depth of emotion that you can't quite decipher. The playful smile he wore has softened into something more sincere.

"Thank you," he says, his voice gentle as he folds the jacket over his arm. "But you know, you could have kept it if you wanted to."

Your stomach dips at the implication as you let out a nervous chuckle, fingers fidgeting slightly as you meet his gaze. "I know, but you have to give back what you’ve borrowed,"

He tilts his head, his expression thoughtful. "Well, I'm glad you're honest, even if it's about jacket theft," he says, a hint of a teasing smile returning to his lips.

A comfortable silence settles between you, the tension from before now replaced by a sense of connection that feels even stronger. The distant sounds of the campfire and the rustling of leaves create a soothing backdrop, and when you look at the boy in front of you once more, you’re suddenly brought back to the moment you shared at the festival. 

“I thought you were rejecting me before I could even muster the courage to ask you out.” Was he joking again when he said this? Making some elaborate sick and twisted prank to make you feel better about the bucket of water that wasn’t even his own doing? 

Your curiosity gets the best of you, and when you go to clear your throat and voice your thoughts, Haechan's lips curve into a warm smile. "Well, it's getting late," he says softly, glancing toward his tent. 

You’re momentarily taken aback, now feeling lost on what to say. He takes your silence as a bid, zipping open his tent flaps and toes off his shoes. 

“Wait, Haechan,” Your voice surprises the two of you still, as Haechan looks over his shoulder and back at you with a hum, his eyes scanning your features. 

You shuffle in place, before bringing your hand up and waving at him timidly. “Sleep well,” 

This time, his reaction is different. He purses his lips, as if restraining a more exuberant smile, his eyes glinting with something unspoken. His nod is gentle, and he avoids meeting your gaze directly. "Goodnight, Y/n,"

The following day, after you’ve all washed up and had something to eat, you gather around the cleared dock in a circle once more. 

“Okay, so it seems like we have six willing participants. We’ve decided to split the teams as such,” With the crew only having access to three cameras, and today being the last day you all can visit the village, there will be three pairs conducting video-form interviews on three of the participants, while the rest do a one-on-one interview without any form of digital recording.

“These are the three pairs: Soyeon and Juyeon, you two will interview Mr Choi. Jihoon and Naeun, you’re on the Sim couple, and Haechan and Y/n can go to Mrs Kim,” You try your best to not seem as surprised as you really feel when you look at your partner, who beams back at you playfully.

Naeun raises her hand. “If my partner can’t shut his mouth and let the interviewees speak, do I have permission to smack across his head with the clipboard?”

“By all means,” Sohee replies without hesitation, while Jihoon raises his hand to his head protectively, looking warily at the clipboard that is being passed around to the groups.

X

You all depart at ten in the morning, hopping into the van and leaving your camping sanctuary. Yubin was kind enough to drive each of you to the houses of the interviewees, reminding all of you to meet at the village centre at three p.m. latest for dinner and then a drive back to the camp. 

Looking at the scribble of the address that the lady gave you yesterday (you’re still shocked that she entrusted you with such information) you look at the gate in front of you which sports the same exact numbers. With one simple scan around, you find that there’s only a handle attached to the door to indicate your arrival.

Haechan steps forward and knocks twice, before you hear a slide of a door and a few grunts. “Give me a few seconds, I’m not as agile as I was a few years ago,” Opening the gate, you feel like you’ve been washed anew, as Mrs Kim smiles widely at you two. “Come on it, I prepared some fruits for you two to eat,”

“Oh, Mrs Kim you didn’t have to,”

“Nonsense,” She tchs. “It’s important for you young people to stay healthy.” As you enter, you see the beautiful exterior of her house and a mini deck that adorns the fruits she had mentioned. 

Haechan adjusts the shoulder of the bag filled with equipment, his arm grazing yours briefly. “You have a very lovely estate, Mrs Kim,” He compliments, and his eyes squeeze shut when the woman reaches forward and pinches at his cheek. You can’t help yourself from laughing, as he contains his grunts.

“You flatter me too much young man,” She pats at his cheek once more, and you have to stop yourself from cooing when you see the red tone of his skin before he covers his cheek with his hand, rubbing it as a form of soothing remedy. “I have a few more things to bring. Did you guys have breakfast? Actually, doesn’t matter, even if you did you should eat more. It’s important to stock up on energy early in the morning.”

“Mrs Kim you don’t have t—”

“You guys can set up,” She shuffles back to her house, sliding the door open and shut behind her, gone before you could utter another word. Both of you look at the deck, which has a big bowl of fruits and three cushions for you to sit on.

Haechan is still rubbing at his cheek when he speaks, “I guess we can set up now, you wanna sit at the deck and I’ll adjust the camera?” The two of you work in harmony, with you adjusting the seats in order to achieve the best angle for the camera, while Haehcan looks at the viewfinder and asks you to shift when needed.

When you’re setting up the microphone and your clipboard with the provided questions, Mrs Kim comes back with two lines of kimbap lined on a plate and three sets of cutlery. Haechan lets out a sharp gasp in gratitude while your jaw slackens.

“Thank you, Mrs Kim,” You hum as you look at her, adoration no doubt filled in your irises. She waves shyly at you, before settling down at the cushion you had positioned for her. “Okay, there are a few questions that I have for you here, and it shouldn’t take more than fourty minutes if I don’t have any follow-ups.” You start explaining to her, and you look over at Haechan to check and see if your volume for the microphone is good or not. He gives you a thumbs up and a nod, which prompts you to continue with your debrief. 

“We can take breaks as much as you like, and if there isn’t anything you’re comfortable with answering please tell us. We’re not trying to make you feel bad with this interview, we just want more people to know about this because there isn’t much recorded at the moment,” You list off, not wanting to miss a detail. Situated behind the camera, you miss the way Haechan smiles fondly at your focused expression, but Mrs Kim doesn’t as she lets her gaze flit between the two of you.

“Whenever you’re ready,” You smile at her, and she smiles back before giving you a confirmation.

“Please introduce yourself!” As you ask her question after question, you munch on a few fruits to stave off the heat in the outdoor summer weather. You fill up your cups using the water jug Mrs Kim had brought and subtly shove it to the corner of the deck where it is closest to Haechan, who would try his best to retrieve it with as little disturbance as possible, After thirty minutes, you had only gone through three questions, stuck with asking her follow up questions about her farming and harvesting upbringing with how invested you were. You pause the interview recording as Haechan mutters something about needing the bathroom, and you finally get to dig into the food that Mrs. Kim has prepared for you.

You’re munching on the food when Mrs. Kim asks you a question. “Did you two decide to come here together?”

You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Oh, we’re part of a group at university and our project was to research this topic,” You pour another cup of water for her when you see her reach for the jug. “Which thank you for accepting our offer, it was hard getting someone …” 

She laughs as she waves her hand at you. “The old people in this village are all grumpy because of the heat, don’t take it to heart sweetie,” Haechan struts back outside once more, and tampers with the camera to check the records. He brings it to you and asks about the angle which makes you two fall into a convo about the angles. You pick up a piece of kimbap and offer it to the boy, noticing he hasn’t had anything to eat as of yet.

You miss the fond look Mrs Kim holds, as Haechan shakes his head slightly with his mouth open, before engulfing the food and chewing, mumbling more about the camera settings.

“Mrs Kim, are you alright with changing the angle of the camera so it can focus on you?”

“You two are such a cute couple,” You almost get whiplash from how fast you turn your head to look at her, your utensils almost dropping the piece of strawberry you had picked up.

“Oh,” Haechan starts, and you’re not sure if the rouge colour of his cheeks is due to the sun or something else. “We’re—”

“And you’re such a gentleman too,” She gestures at Haechan before picking up an uncut fruit and peeling it. “I have five children, and a dozen of grandchildren. One of the younger ones is around the same age as you, so you remind me a lot of him.” She reminisces, and you can’t bring yourself to correct her statement when she gives you another piece of anecdote. “Although it’s been some time since I’ve seen them, I hope the next time I do they’ve grown as handsome and as kind as you are,” 

Haechan grows flustered as he occupies himself with a bite of a fruit, before developing a sudden tenderness. He saunters up to his side and holds his arms wide for a hug, which the woman grows mockingly agitated with, before accepting it. He whines cutely, “Mrs Kim, you can’t go all soft on me with no warning,” He rubs at her shoulder gently. “If you’d like, I’m more than happy to come back again to visit you, in exchange for your world-class food,” He receives a soft smack on the shoulder before bursting into laughter, and you can’t help but feel a sense of adoration at his words.

“You’re only gonna be a nuisance at my side,” She grunts when Haechan goes back next to you, plopping himself down to indulge more in the food. “I’ll let you visit me only if you bring your lovely girlfriend too,”

You start coughing on the grape you were munching on, as Haechan tuts at you and gives you a glass of water. Gulping it down, you stop yourself from having another fit when Haechan says, “I’ll bring my lovely, precious girlfriend with me too. Promise,”

Your interview with Mrs Kim was done three hours after your arrival, as you left with a full stomach and a massive hug from the sweet woman.

“Have a safe trip back,” She waves, and you and Haechan navigate your way through the neighbourhood and towards the village centre.

Haechan gives a wistful sigh. “What a sweet lady, I thought every person over the age of sixty wanted to run us over in this town,” 

“I think they just wanted to run you over.” You comment and are met with a light shove to your shoulder with his, a playful grin dancing on his lips. "Me? Come on, I'm nothing but a bundle of charm and charisma," he retorts while he stretches his arms out.

"Sure, if you say so," you reply with a smile, feeling the warm sensation before settling low in your stomach again.

As you both navigate through the village centre, the quaint streets bathed in the warm hues of the sun, Haechan's tone becomes a touch more serious. "You know, spending time with Mrs Kim was really nice," he admits, his expression softening.

You nod in agreement. "Absolutely. She's such a sweetheart. The way she talks about the village and its history, you can tell how much she loves it."

"True," Haechan agrees, his gaze distant for a moment before focusing back on you. "It's heartwarming to see how deeply connected she is to this place."

As you stroll along the cobbled path, a comfortable silence settles between you. The serene atmosphere of the village combined with Haechan's presence makes it feel like you're in a different world altogether, a world where worries and uncertainties can be set aside, even if only temporarily.

Eventually, the village begins to fade into the background as you approach your destination. With the fading light, the sounds of the evening grow softer, and you find yourselves in a quiet corner by the riverbank.

Haechan glances at you, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "You know," he begins, his tone softer now, "I’m glad you were my partner for today."

You meet his gaze, a warm smile forming on your lips as you feel heat gather at your cheeks. "Yeah, it was fun." You cut yourself off short, scared that if you keep talking you’ll say more than you’d want to.

He grins, a hint of his mischievousness returning. "And who knows, maybe next time Mrs Kim will have some more matchmaking plans for us," he says, his eyebrows wiggling playfully. You laugh, shaking your head at his antics, but feel a nervous flip in your stomach. 

Before you can overthink and pick his words apart, you hear a honk from behind as a car drives up to the both of you. Yubin rolls down the window, gleaming at you from behind the wheel. “Great! You guys are done too, we were about to come pick you up. You guys had something to eat already?” You both nod your heads, now uncertain of Yubin’s enthusiasm.

“Perfect, because we aren’t heading to the centre for lunch anymore.” She tilts her head back to the van, urging you to get in. “We’re heading to the waterfall!”

It turns out that the man Yubin had been interviewing alone had mentioned a picturesque waterfall just a short drive from the town. The location came complete with a restaurant situated slightly downstream, but what had truly captured his nostalgic sentiment was his recollection of summers spent there during his youth. While she tells you all this, you don’t notice the passage of time. It's only when the car slows to a stop and Jihoon emerges from the trunk, his inflatable flamingo in tow and already sporting swim trunks, that you realize how far you've journeyed.

"Wait, are we actually going swimming?" Juyeon asks, his voice laced with surprise as Jihoon confidently strides towards the water, each step creating playful splashes. Sohee looks ahead at the water and Jihoon, expression blank once more. “We brought a few towels, some of them finished early so we drove back to the site and grabbed some things.” She shrugs her cardigan off, revealing her swimsuit from underneath. “You don’t have to swim if you don’t want to,” And she steps into the water, trailing behind Jihoon.

Naeun, who was one of the lucky ones to have finished early, is also wearing her swimsuit and is now trying to persuade you to join. “Just dip your feet in, you’re already wearing shorts! I brought some slippers for you too,” When she sees that you’re not budging, she huffs at your stubbornness before heading in. Even Miseok, who was fully clothed, went ahead and emerged himself into the water, squealing about the cold of the water.

You sigh in thought, looking down at your cladded feet, contemplating whether you should go in or not. You do feel the sweat built up from the whole day's work disappearing in the presence of the cold waterfall, but the body of water looks more and more tempting as droplets land at your feet, courtesy of Naeun and Soyeon declaring war against Minseok and drowning the guy with splashes of water, their laughter ringing through the air. Yubin clings to Sohee’s waist as she twirls her around in the water, and Haechan tries to coax Juyeong into making Jihoon sink by toppling him over the flamingo.

You sit by the edge of the water, your feet dangling in the cool stream, watching your friends enjoy themselves. Haechan, ever the observer, notices your conflicted expression. His eyes meet yours, and he saunters over with that signature mischievous grin that never fails to stir something in your chest.

“You coming in?” voice tinged with playful curiosity, he gets out to stand next to you, tousled hair dripping and his sun-kissed skin glistening. His shirt clings to his form, and it takes all of your willpower to look away from the dip in his waist. 

“I don’t know, I’m still thinking…” The cold water looks exceptionally inviting, but you wouldn’t have a change of clothes, and you’re not sure if the white t-shirt you adorn would help in not exposing you. 

“Hmm, I mean, you had a bucket of water dunked on you once, right?” He circles behind you as he says this. “So this time it shouldn’t be too bad,” Before you can turn to look at him and decipher what he means, you feel strong arms circle around your waist before you’re being trudged forward, a startled laugh escapes your lips as he carries you toward the water.

"H-Haechan, wait!" you protest, a mix of laughter and uncertainty in your tone.

He pays no heed to your objections, stepping in more and more into the cold and refreshing water. As the water reaches his waist, he takes another step forward, your laughter mingling with the splashes around you. The initial shock of the cold water is soon replaced by a rush of exhilaration as he swings you left and right quickly.

"See?" he grins at you when you turn to look at him, the playful spark in his eyes impossible to ignore. He takes another step forward, wanting to get the both of you close to the rest, but his foot gets caught momentarily as he leans forward more, making you squeal as you’re faced with your death for a few seconds.

Fortunately, you don’t fall in face first, as Haechan gathers himself just in time. His arms are gripped tighter around your waist, as he tries to fully regain his balance by grounding himself into you. You feel his chest against your back, and if it weren’t for the cool stream of water whizzing past your body, you would’ve been burning up.

“You almost killed us both,” Haechan loosens his hold around you as you say this, gently turning you around to face him instead, your grip going back to his forearm. Nothing could have prepared you for the view you’re met with, a smile gleaming across Haechan’s face, carefree and unfiltered as he revels in the summer sun and the cool water from the waterfall and riverbank. He looks like the embodiment of summer, and you’re slowly finding yourself wanting to bask in his light.

His smile slowly fades as his eyes start looking across your face, taking in your features one by one, from the corners of your eyes to the shine of the sun against your cheeks, and lastly your lips. You feel your breath hitch, the only thing grounding you being the grip you hold on the Haechan’s forearms, while his hands hover over your waits, before gently getting a hold on them, his fingers squeezing deftly. You’re not quite sure if you’re intently focusing in on his face, or if he’s slowly leaning in, but before you can figure out the air that hangs between the two of you, a deafening screech sounds in front of you, and in that suspended moment, your instincts kick in. Your arms reflexively rise to cushion the impact, and Haechan's body collides with yours. 

For the second time this afternoon, you close your eyes as you brace yourself for impact, the world briefly becomes a blur of sensations. The water is just deep enough to soften your fall, but you know the skidding of the pebbles under your feet would inflict some sort of pain. Neither of you gets to find your footing this time round, as you fall into the water, refreshing coolness sliding down on you before engulfing the two of you.

As the world comes back into focus, you find yourself near Haechan once again, his laughter bubbling through the water. His mischievous grin is evident even underwater, and it's easy to imagine the triumphant sparkle in his eyes.

"You really can't catch a break today, huh?" he teases, his words echoing through the water.

You can't help but let out a laugh. "You could say that." Haechan surfaces beside you, water cascading from his hair, his wet shirt clinging to his form once more. As you two recover, you look up and towards the direction of the commotion that happened to send Haechan and you toppling over. There you see Minseok, a look of uncertainty cast on his face before it falls to a cheeky grin, his face stretching almost uncomfortably.

"Guess I misjudged the distance," Minseok calls out, his tone light as he shrugs his shoulders. Your brows furrow, but you don’t say anything when Haechan playfully splashes water in Minseok's direction. "Nice aim! You almost gave us a heart attack and had us follow the stream,” He points towards the flow of the water starting from your feet, and looking down at your soaked-through shirt you realise that you’re more exposed than what you had planned.

Haechan’s gaze catches on you crossing your arms over your shoulders, a weak attempt of you trying to cover yourself. Quickly scanning the bags and mats huddled together just on the floor next to the waterfall, he gently offers his hand for you to take, swishing through the currents and stepping out, helping you do the same before he grabs the only available towel he could find, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“There,” He pats your sides, helping you to dry. Your heart warms at his gesture, smitten eyes looking at his while he looks anywhere but directly at you.

People start getting out slowly too, some grumbling about being hungry from not having a chance to eat before coming to swim. When everyone grabs a towel, you realise that Haechan is the only one left without one. Everyone’s too busy tending to themselves to notice, and you see a faint shiver coarse through his body, the cold of the water relentless even in the heat of the summer.

You shoulder off your towel, handing it to him without saying much. He looks at your extended hand and you know he’s about to refuse when he sports a sheepish and teasing smile, ready to refute your attempts by making some sort of joke out of it, or claiming you need it more.

Somehow, you know that he won’t give in until you also have a towel or something similar to help you, so you decide to do something else. You place one end of the towel around his right shoulder, and you see him open his mouth to voice his protest, but his voice dies in his throat when you stick yourself by his left shoulder, wrapping the other end of the towel around yourself too. He looks at you incredulously, and you’re sure now that teh heat on your cheeks can’t be blamed on the heat of the weather anymore.

You try to will away your flustered expression, now refusing to meet his eye. “You wouldn’t take the towel, so I had to make do,” You mutter, now feeling somewhat ridiculous for your attempt at wanting him to use the towel. Haechan, having never met with this side of yours, gets a bit giddy as he grins widely at you, reaching out from under the jacket to pinch at you. You smack away his hand, before muttering something about wanting to find Naeun, separating yourself from the towel and quickly stepping away.

Back at the campsite, everyone takes turns rinsing off and helping to prepare for tonight's round of food. Although most of the drinks that Jihoon had brought were dwindling to a finish, he pulls out an extra bottle of emergency vodka, preparing shots for everyone to have. 

As Jihoon’s tactics of making everyone drink to get drunk don’t go through, he tries something that never fails. “Okay, we’re playing never have I ever, and for every one finger you put down you have to take a shot,” Yubin immediately bites, saying “Never have I ever been named ‘Sohee’,”

Sohee's reaction is swift and accompanied by an indignant glare. Without missing a beat, she reaches for a shot glass and downs the vodka, setting it down with a determined clink. Jihoon grins, clearly delighted by the engagement he's sparked. "Only Yubin can pull something like that and not get torn in half,"

But Sohee doesn’t back down easily. “Never have I ever cut my own bangs,” Yubin purses her lips from laughing, lowering one finger as she looks at her shot glass in shame before downing it. A few other people drink too, with Haechan laughing at Jihoon who takes a hard-hitting shot.

“Why would you cut your bangs?” Naeun questions Jihoon as he recovers from the taste of vodka. “Sometimes times are tough,” 

Haechan scoffs. “He saw a video of a guy thirst trapping and the girl he liked at the time had liked it. So he thought a haircut would be a quick fix,” Jihoon scowls at being called out so easily. Before he could strike back with a question, Minseok suddenly speaks up.

"Never have I ever accidentally spilled a secret that wasn't mine to spill," Minseok announces, his eyes locking onto Haechan's with a knowing glint. The question lands like a playful challenge, drawing amused glances and ripples of laughter from the group. Haechan's expression shifts from surprise to a grin, lifting a shot glass and downing it seamlessly. Your eyes catch on the side of his face as he tilts his head back, throat bobbing lightly as he downs the drink, and amid all the ruckus and noise of the group, you can’t help but find his expression hot.

Not right now, you can’t start salivating in the middle of a friendly gathering and so you turn to look away. Your gaze instead catches on Minseok, and his once playful expression has suddenly faded into a displeased one, as he pushes his glasses back up his nose bridge. You grow confused at his sudden shift of mood, but before you can further contemplate anything, Naeun shrieks at a question that Soyeon had asked bringing you back to the group.

The game shifts into story time, as people talk about how they’ve broken bones to the times they were caught masturbating. You can’t help but grimace at Juyeon’s story of how the person he was with had kicked out his pet cat from the room only for her other cat to pop out of the closet, as she cooed at her pet not even a full minute after they finished. 

Someone reaches for a bottle of water and finds that the ones on the deck are all empty. “I’ll get some more from the van,” You volunteer, standing up and dusting yourself off. Yubin’s temple is resting against Sohee’s shoulder as she slurs, “Take s’meone witchu... Bottles heavy..” You glance around only to be met with Naeun excitedly asking Juyeon to tell her more about his embarrassing moments so she can exchange with him, while the rest egg him on. Your attention shifts to Haechan, his eyes already fixed on yours. With a subtle tilt of your head away from the campfire, a surge of confidence courses through you as you invite him to join you. 

The walk to the van is quiet, save for the crunch of your shoes and sandals against the floor, as you look at the sky and the trees, anywhere but at him now that he’s actually by your side. 

Haechan's voice breaks the silence, soft. "Was it fun for you so far?"

You turn your gaze to him, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I’m glad to have gotten away like this before the exams start up again." Subconsciously, you start treading closer to him, your shoulder now brushing against his every other step you take. “But I don’t think I can go to another social gathering until next year,”

He chuckles, a sound that seems to meld seamlessly with the night's tranquillity. "Tell me about it. Minseok’s been on a mission this whole trip, hasn't he?"

You nod, the playful note in his voice helping to ease the tension that had briefly gripped the atmosphere. “Your title is gonna be revoked soon if you don’t watch out,” 

You arrive at the van, and you feel the weight of the key in your pocket, but you can’t bring yourself to fish it out, as you now stand face-to-face with Haechan. Even with the sun’s shine bringing out the warmth and glow in him, you’re just as mesmerised during the night, the moonlight turning him blurry at the edges, and you can feel yourself softening even more. 

You’re brought back to the festival when Haechan had pulled you away and continued to laugh at you for being mad at him for pulling a prank on you. You’re still not entirely sure if he isn’t to blame, but that’s the last thing on your mind as you recall his words. “I thought you were rejecting me before I could even muster the courage to ask you out.”

He’s right in front of you again, looking at you patiently, gaze slowly flitting over your features, from your eyes to your cheeks, at your hair and fleetingly at your lips when you go to speak.

"Hey, about what you said earlier…” you begin, your voice steady but tinged with a hint of uncertainty as your hands fidget with one another. “Back at the festival, about asking me out,"

His eyes meet yours, searching for something in your expression. He seems to hold his breath, waiting for your words to unfold.

"Was that just... you know, another one of your jokes?" you ask, your tone light yet inquisitive. 

Haechan's eyebrows knit together for a moment, a hint of surprise in his eyes as if he didn't expect you to bring up the topic, not like this. He then lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "No, I wasn't joking," he says, his voice gentle but earnest.

His second confession hangs in the air between you, a mixture of emotions swirling beneath the surface. You feel your heart racing, your mind racing even faster. Your next words are caught in your throat, wondering if now is the time.

“I…” But Haechan’s anything if patient and kind, as he steps closer and gently clasps your hand in his, both of your gazes falling on your now linked hands before travelling up to your faces. “I really like you,” You breathe, and your gaze zeroes in on his plush lips. “And I really want to kiss you now,”

Your cheeks heat up at your sudden bluntness, but a tender smile graces Haechan’s features and he takes a step closer. Your hands remain linked, his touch warm and reassuring against your palm. His head tilts a bit, breath mingling with yours as his eyes fall to look at your lips, gaze growing hooded in the dark of the night.

His lips meet yours gently, the plush skin enveloping you, and all you can feel and hear is him. The summer breeze and the crickets chirping now fades away, as you feel his fingers clasped through yours and the brush of his nose against you. He separates slightly, pulling back as he slowly opens his eyes, but you’re barely done.

Panic overtakes his features when you let go of his hand, but then it's replaced with a look of surprise when you quickly but gently clasp his face in your hands, leaning in and kissing him once more. He can’t help the slight smile that urges to overtake his features, but he grounds himself by clasping your waist, pulling your body closer to his. He pecks your lips, again and again, his palms squeezing your waist deftly, as if he can’t get enough. Your arms link around his shoulders when he pushes himself closer to you, shifting from caring pecks to heated kisses, pushing you two closer together. 

Finally, when the soft breeze doesn’t help fight the heat, you separate from each other, but your bodies are still intertwined. You rest your forehead against his collarbone and he smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist now.

“Fuck,” You mutter, “Why was that so good?” He chuckles at your words, kissing the side of your head that’s still buried in his chest.

“Yeah?” He mumbles into your hair, and it takes all of your willpower to not collapse right then and there at his hot tone. “Can’t wait to show you more then,” He pecks at your cheek lightly before stepping back and towards the van, and you can’t help but silently mourn the loss of his touch.

When you get back to the campfire and sit next to Nauen, she comments on how warm your body is.

“Of course my body is warm, it’s summer. Did you forget?” Naeun looks at you with one of her eyes squinted shut, the other barely open as she tries analysing you through her drunken state.

“You’re right, I did forget. I just thought Haechan kissing you would’ve made yo—“ You smack your hand on her mouth as your wide eyes scan across the deck, scared that other people have caught on to her words. Naeun and her damn mouth, and really accurate drunk guesses.

After looking around, you’re relieved to find that everyone’s too busy with their own activities. Your eyes fall on Haechan, who must’ve felt your gaze as he quickly glances towards you, sending a wink and an air kiss. You roll your eyes, looking away quickly so he misses the fondness that overtakes your features.

Naeun leans on your shoulder as you two look at the blank space that once had your shared tent. 

“I’ll miss this place,” She sniffles, and you can’t help but scoff. 

“You were complaining just twenty minutes ago about how gross this trip made you feel.”

“Maybe the cleanliness of camping is the friends we made along the way,” She loses her footing when you move away from her, making her lose her position from being perched on you. Going to the van where everyone’s huddled at, you help give some of the items to be fitted into the truck.

Rubin tucks a strand of hair that’s sticking out from Sohee’s hair as the latter reads off of the clipboard in her hand. “Okay, everyone has their bearings?” Jihoon shuffles in with his flamingo plushie. “Wait, let me deflate this quickly and shove it at the back,”

“No!” You exclaim, and everyone looks at you with your sudden outburst. Without the flamingo, you wouldn’t have an excuse for wanting to squeeze closer to Haechan as you sit next to each other. You quickly gather yourself, clearing your throat and trying to seem nonchalant. “Uh, I mean like, don’t deflate it now. It’ll be hard to inflate it again.” You look away as you gesture your hand around. “There’s space at the back of the van anyway.”

You catch Haechan’s gaze, who is now covering his mouth with his hand to not burst out with laughter. Jihoon looks at Yubin with confusion, before the team leader shrugs, gesturing for the flamingo to fit into the van. When everyone shuffles into the van, Jihoon hands you the flamingo, which you happily grasp and tug at your left side, as you sit in the middle. Haechan fits himself at your right side, and you try your best to avoid Naeun’s suspicious yet knowing glare.

When the van roars to life, so does conversation between everyone, as Jihoon plays music through the aux cord, providing some background music. Now that you’ve achieved your goal of having Haechan sit next to you, you don’t know what to do, settling into your seat with the inflatable flamingo cradled in your arms. His thigh pressed against yours as the two of you relaxed back into your seats, and you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on anything but the warmth seeping through the fabric of your clothes, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

As you steal a glance at Haechan, you find him already looking at you, a playful glint in his eyes and a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. You can never win.

He seems to find amusement in your flustered state, a knowing look passing between you as if sharing a secret language. And just when you expect him to tease you, he instead offers you an airpod of his (which you’re thankful for, you don’t know what suffices as an excuse for oggling him the way you did).

"Here," he says, his voice a soft undertone amidst the conversations. You're momentarily taken aback by his gesture, your fingers brushing against his as you accept the earbud. 

It’s when you’re in the middle of choosing which decade of music to listen to when Minseok turns around and is met with your bickering. Naeun joins in, a smile on her lips as she enjoys the banter between you and Haechan.

Then, Minseok's voice cuts through the chatter, posing a question that catches you off guard. “Did you forgive him after his prank?” It takes a moment for you to realize that it’s directed at you. You glance between Naeun and Haechan, uncertain of how to respond to his unexpected query.

Quick to step in, Naeun's voice rises above the background noise as she takes charge of the situation. “The water bucket? Haechan wasn't behind that one,” Minseok now looks at Naeun with a confused tilt. 

"But he was, right? I remember he was on his way to class and turned back at the last minute." 

It’s now your turn to be confused. “How did you know he was heading to class then?” You see a bit of colour drain from his face as you ask him, and before he can say anything, Juyeon and Soyeon call for his attention, giving him an escape from the conversation.

A glance is exchanged between you, Haechan, and Naeun, a silent agreement passing between you all. Naeun waves off the topic, assuring you with a casual gesture. "Don't worry about it for now. Let's get back to what we were doing." With that, she turns her attention back to the ongoing activities, allowing you to enjoy your privacy once more.

As you listen to the calming music he plays, you lay your head on his shoulder, finding solace in the rhythmic hum of the van's journey. His voice drifts into a lively monologue about his evolving music preferences over the years—tales of the artists he favoured in his younger days and those who currently capture his admiration. You can’t help but feel warm as he tells you personal anecdotes of listening to his parents’ karaoke sessions, and how his mum especially used to love singing.

Watching him speak animatedly,  a wave of endearment washes over you. Pouting as he sometimes speaks and moving his hands when he wants to emphasise a point, The surge of fondness overwhelms you and you let your urges take over, nipping lightly at his shoulder, not knowing how else to assert the cute aggression you feel so suddenly.

“What—” Haechan claps his hand over the spot you playfully bit, his mock protest making you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “That hurt!”

“It wasn’t even that hard! My teeth barely caught on.” You cross your arms. He suddenly wraps one arm around your shoulder, hand bumping against the barely alive flamingo as he pushes you closer to him. “Don’t go soft now. I didn’t say I didn’t like it. But just be careful now,” He leans into your ear, lips grazing your skin as he whispers. “I like biting too. Sometimes hard enough to leave a mark,” 

You glare when he parts from you. “Is that a threat?” 

He tilts his head in thought. “A threat for a good time? Maybe,”

You would be lying if you said the trip didn’t change anything. Naeun has been relentless, asking you every time she sees you smiling if it’s because of Haechan.

“You never smile for any other reason,” She barely misses the pillow that’s flung in her direction.

But as you return back, you’re suddenly met with your responsibilities you had momentarily forgotten about, as deadlines creep up. You’re only either at your classes, the library, at work or at home. So you don’t get to see Haechan, but you do text, which gives Naeun reasons to tease you. It hurts you to say that she’s right about you smiling because of him, so instead you deflect and threaten to spill the beans on her crush on Jeno. That stopped her for two weeks, and that’s all the time you needed to focus on your studies.

As everyone’s assignments and exams come to an end, a flurry of parties and gatherings are held, and people are ready to let loose before dispersing once the holidays start. 

And so here you are, at the first party of the week, taking shots with Naeun as if they’re water. Usually, one of you would opt to be just a bit more coherent and sober than the other, just to make sure no one makes any mistakes they’ll regret later; but the exams were hard-hitting this semester, and what else do you talk about the day after these parties if not your fuck-ups?

It’s Sunwoo’s house that you’re raiding, and Naeun has somehow convinced the host to give them unlimited shots as compensation for when he made her talk about Haehcan’s prank.

“You really hold grudges don’t you?” He says as she pours you two another round, almost missing your cups with how much he’s also had himself. She giggles as he says this before her expression falls as he looks at him with a scowl. “Say that again and I’ll show you what a real grudge looks like,” 

The night continues to be rowdy, as go around dancing to the music that’s being blasted and you stumbling yourselves into a game of truth or drink, where you would drink even with questions you were okay with answering. You’re now plastered to a couch, unable to move as your body feels unnaturally heavy.

“You know,” Naeun hiccups. “I love you, like, so much. You fucking bitch.” She slurs, tapping her hand against the couch in an attempt to find your hand. She gives up after three taps, hiccuping once more. 

You nod against the back cushion of the couch. “I love you too, but,” You blink open your eyes, wanting to look at your best friend as you say this. “I just want you to know that you’re deserving of so much love.” You also try to move your hand to find hers, but you quickly realise that you can’t even find where your hand is.

So you keep going. “Soo much love. And the fact that you’re still single? Crime, jail immediately,” Naeun starts tearing up, because she gets emotional easily after three shots. “You’re so right, like, how long has it been since I’ve had my back blown?”

You shake your head, “Not even that, you deserve someone who’s into puppy play as much as you are. You know what?” Somehow finding some strength, you push yourself up and place your hands on her shoulders to steady yourself, wanting to gaze into her eyes as you say this. “You deserve Jeno and you should confess to him; he would be a psychotic maniac to not want to date someone as hot and as pretty as you are.” You miss catching the tears falling from her face, but you don’t need to do much, as her expression contorts from sadness to realisation.

“You’r—” She hiccups briefly. “So right. You’re so right. You know what? I’m gonna go and confess now,” Naeun’s willpower comes back in full force, as she suddenly stands up, posture straight like never before. You’re flung off of her as she does this, collapsing onto the couch, not yet having found the same energy she has mustered. 

You’re not sure if your cry of good luck reached your friend’s ears from where you’re squished against the couch, but you can’t bring yourself to care as grogginess starts to take over, your eyes barely staying open even in the rowdiness of the party.

You feel yourself fall asleep just a bit, but are brought back to the lights and music of the party when you feel a gentle tap against your forearm. Opening your eyes, you’re met with Haechan’s crouched form as he smiles fondly at you, eyes scanning your face.

“You okay?” He asks, and you give him your best smile and a thumbs up. 

“Never... Never better.” You reach out your hand, wanting to have some sort of contact with the boy in front of you. “Actually, I’m way better now that Haechan is here,” 

Haechan’s smile widens into a grin, as he sees you flailing your hand around his general direction. “Haechan is happy that he’s here. Come one, let’s get you to sit up.” He clasps your hand in his, before gently lifting you from your horizontal position. You lean towards him, wanting to bask in his presence more, but he hums at you, urging you to sit back. Your face makes contact with the back cushion of the couch once more, and you can’t help the pout that sports your face. With your ears no longer buffered, the loud noise from the party rushes back to you at full force.

“It’s so loud here,” You murmur, squeezing Haechan's hand, to which he responds with a gentle squeeze of his own “So loud, ‘s annoying. Everyone’s annoying, but you, and Naeun is wetting her dick right now,” You don’t even care if your words are coherent or not, and judging by Haechan’s warm gaze, it doesn’t seem like he cares either.

He cups one side of your face, covering your ear from the ruckus of the party while having you look at him. “You wanna go home, baby?” 

You struggle just a bit to find his gaze, but smile at him anyway, pressing a gentle kiss against the palm of his hand that’s cupping your face. “Baby...yeah, wanna go home.” He pulls his hand back at your agreement, pecking his lips at the same spot you kissed him, before helping you to your feet. "Alright then, let's get you out of here."

[SATURDAY; 2:46 AM]

haechan <3: hope youre okay

haechan <3: drink lots of water when you wake up

[SATURDAY; 11:03 AM]

you: i wanna hibernate my life away

haechan <3: aw dont do that

haechan <3: maybe try a panadol first?

you: i will now

you: thank you for last night 🤍my prince charming

haechan <3: yours? 

you: ..

you: anyways.

you: how can i repay u :( 

haechan <3: dont gotta repay me for anything

you: let me have this one 

haechan <3: if you insisttttt

haechan <3: come over to mine tmr

you: how would i be repaying u that way??

haechan <3: i get to see your pretty face

you: 😐

haechan <3: ik you’re kicking ur feet rn

you: stop stalking me omg

You shuffle on your feet as you wait for Haechan to come to the door, feeling a bit stiff as you stand in the hallway of the apartment he lives in. When you had used the excuse of not wanting to annoy his roommates by coming over, he had attempted to reassure you that you won’t need to worry, because they won’t be here. 

The keyword is attempted. You feel far from reassured that it’ll just be the two of you for the rest of the day, afraid that the freedom of being home alone with him would lead to your mind jumping to places you’re not sure about. 

As you fidget in the hallway, your mind races with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You've spent time with Haechan in various places, but this is the first time you'll be alone together, let alone in his apartment. The possibilities and implications of this newfound privacy make your heart race.

Finally, the door swings open, and Haechan stands there with a welcoming smile. He's dressed casually, the hem of his white t-shirt hanging just at the waist of his grey sweatpants. "Hey, come in." he greets, strolling aside to let you in. Stepping in, you can’t help but let your eyes wander around, curious about the space he lives in. You’re surprised to find it in a messy-clean state— there are no stains or food scattered around, but there are many things clustered upon one another, as if either Haechan or his two roommates, Renjun and Jeno, were too lazy to put them away or thought they might need it in the near future.

He sees you scanning his living space and starts scratching at his neck in embarrassment. “Ah, I thought we could just hang out in my room, that’s why I didn’t make an effort to clean here..” He points back towards his room, and you feel shame bubble in you when your mind wanders. Maybe he just didn’t want to mess with his friends’ belongings scattered in the living room. Or maybe he wanted you in his room and on his bed.

Before you can dwell too much on those thoughts, you offer a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it's totally fine," you say, doing your best to sound nonchalant despite the butterflies in your stomach. "Your room sounds great." 

He smiles at you warmly, before gently reaching forward and holding your hand in his, pulling you towards his kitchen. He pops open a cupboard, and in you see an abundance of snacks. “Wanted you to pick anything you like,” He chuckles when he sees your amazed appearance. “We spend, like, seventy percent of our monthly grocery funds on these things,” He grabs a few snacks to his liking, urging you to pick your faves too. Afterwards, you shuffle behind him towards his room, which you can’t help but study again. A single candle emits a soft, warm glow on his desk, and a few pillows, seemingly borrowed from the couch, are arranged neatly on his bed. You can’t help but feel warm at the prospect that he had gone out of his way to clean his room like this for you.

Heading towards his bed, you place the snacks down at the bedside table, curiously glancing around at Haechan as he roams around, switching on the TV that’s mounted opposite his bed, sitting at the edge of his bed where his laptop sits, trying to connect his streaming service. “Is there anything you want to watch?”

You hum in thought, “I’m fine with anything.” You settle at the edge of his bed, feeling a bit unsure of where to sit. Once Haechan puts a movie on, he smiles at your awkward demeanour, fiddling with your fingers as you look at his bedsheets. He goes up to the headboard of his bed and pats the space next to him, signalling for you to join him. Smiling at his initiative, you take a seat next to him, getting more comfortable against the pillows when he wraps his arm behind your back, sinking back into the pillows. 

You truly did try your best; you looked at the subtitles and read them along with the voices of the actors on the screen, and tried to encapture the scenes and backgrounds, but you couldn’t, for the life of you, fully focus on the movie. Not with the warm contact that is spread at your back, your shoulders pressed against Haechan. It also doesn’t help that your eyes travel to the ripple of the fabric of his sweatpants when he readjusts himself to a more comfortable position, or that you envision his soft grunts of moving around as something else whispered deeper into your ear.

It doesn’t seem like you’re good at keeping your feelings at bay, though. Haechan playfully squeezes your side after noticing you lost in thought, your gaze lingering on the tantalizing glimpse of skin between his shirt and waistband. “Is the movie too boring?” Your eyes snap up to his face, now feeling a mix of shame and guilt for letting your mind travel elsewhere.

“No! It’s just…” You trail off as you try racking your brain for an excuse. “Sorry, was jus’ thinking.” You feel another squeeze at your side, and if you were standing at this very moment your knees would’ve given out on you. You find it unfair that he’s able to do all this and drive you up the wall so easily.

He hums at your words before his gaze goes back to the movie playing. You almost scoff at his indifference, but also go back to looking at the TV. Two can play that game.

But you fall short once more when you feel him squeeze your waist once more, this time with his finger sleeping under your shirt, his pinky in contact with your skin. You can feel your heart racing and your palms getting sweaty. You try to tame yourself, to appear calm and composed, but deep down you know you can't help it.

You let your hand drop casually on his thigh, turning yourself to lean more into his body, trying to gauge his reaction. But he remains unfazed, expression unchanged as he merely adjusts himself slightly to accommodate for your new position. You decide to take it a step further, subtly squeezing your body against his, making sure to somehow slot your boobs against him, wanting him to feel more of you.

This guy's got a thick skin, you think, his demeanour as unyielding as ever. He doesn't show that your touch gets to him as he looks at you shifting closer to him. But if you look closely, there's a little twinkle in his eyes, a quick hint that suggests you're getting to him. 

"Can I hug you?" he asks, his voice a mix of curiosity and anticipation. He chuckles, clearly amused by your eagerness as you nod your head, and wraps both of his arms around your waist. You take this opportunity to finally feel more of him, and give him something to be distracted with. You straddle his thigh, accepting his embrace as you slot your head at his collarbone.

His hands stiffen at your back, no doubt from feeling the heat of your body against his so suddenly, but he doesn’t let anything else on, as he starts to stroke your lower back, now cooing at you. “What’s got your pretty head all occupied, hmm?”

You hate how easily he’s able to pin this on you, his hands against you and his words whispered in your ear making you feel hot all over. Another soft squeeze of his fingers at your side reminds you of his question, and you feel shame climb up your spine before you’ve even uttered your answer.

“You,” pulling back from him, you look directly at him when you say this, voice almost breathless. You feel his thigh against your core covered by your shorts, and you hope the light press of your heat against him goes unnoticed. “My heads full of you, has been. Thought about you, about this,” The drive of your hips against his leg is now done with purpose, as you feel him stiffen at your boldness, almost making you whimper when you rut down. “Can’t stop thinking about you,”

He lets out a soft sigh when you ground your hips against him again, brows furrowed as he looks at your desperate state. You see a blush spread across his cheeks and creep up his neck, while he tilts his head back slightly, breathing in deeply as if to find composure within himself. He’s both flustered at your sudden ramblings about him, all while feeling a swell in his chest that he’s the cause of your current desperate state. His hands now find claim at your waist, neither pushing you down on him stronger nor pulling you away, simply gripping you as if in need of something to ground him. His eyes are wispy when they look up at you, mouth parted open as he takes a shuddering breath in. “What did you think about?”

What didn’t you think about? His touch on you drives you further, urging you to feel more. You shift your knees to meet at his hips, as you settle yourself down at his groin. “Thought about kissing you,” Your hands splay themselves at his chest, your pupils no doubt dilated the way your gaze settles on his plump lips. He bites on them, no doubt teasing you for something so close yet so far from where you want it; on your lips, both the top and bottom ones. 

When you lean in to embrace his lips with yours, his head swivels around as his lips land on your cheek, gaze casts down as his fingers hover over your stomach, before descending down to your clothed core, your loose shorts giving him easy access. His breath fans hot against your face when he swipes his fingers ever so lightly against you, nail catching on your clit through the fabric of your panties. A soft, pathetic sound leaves your lips, as you feel your hole clench on nothing with the brief contact that he’s had with you.

You go to grind yourself down against his fingers, wanting to feel more of him everywhere, but his hands travel to your hips, grip strong as he stops you from pressing against him. He tuts at you, hooded eyes travelling up your body, catching on your chest, where you pant lightly, breasts going up and down. When he finally lets his eyes go past your boobs, his grip turns harsh as he presses you back when you try to ground yourself against him once more.

“My pretty girl,” His tone is sweet, but you can’t help but feel like he’s mocking you. “I asked you a question,” When he sees your faraway gaze, he chuckles against you before leaning in, letting his lips graze against your collarbone now exposed by him pulling your collar aside for access, nipping at your skin before soothing it with a swipe of his tongue. You scramble through your brain as you try to remember the question he asked, too occupied with his fingernails digging into you. 

As if he can sense what's running through your mind, he refreshes your memory.

“What,” another playful bite lands, harder this time at the junction between your neck and shoulder. “Did you think about, baby?” 

Gathering your thoughts, you now realise that he won’t be giving you what you need unless you tell him. You feel your stomach burn low as you recall the moments you’ve let your mind wander.

“Thought about your fingers,” You start, looking earnestly at him as if to convince him of your burning need. “Your fingers in me, fucking into me.” You pant when his hand drops the grip it had on your waist, his digits swiping at your core through your panties. When he presses the pads of his fingers against you, he curses lightly under his breath at how wet you already are. Using his other hand to tuck the seat of your underwear aside, his fingers meet your bare pussy, swiping up and down against your folds, spreading your slick around. 

“Fuck,” You sigh when he slowly presses his middle finger in, going till his knuckle meets your skin before pulling back out, his eyes seeking your face, wanting to see the pleasure in your expression. You squeak in surprise when he pushes another finger straight after, before building a slow rhythm against you. “Keep going pretty,” He sighs, his gaze captivated by your face. His hand that’s tucked against your underwear goes to your folds, thumb pushing against your clit in encouragement.

“Also,” You gulp down a breath of air. “Also thought of going down on my knees for you,”

“Fuck,” Haechan’s head falls back as you say this, his fingers quickening in speed. “Yeah? What else?” You whimper at his new pace and at his onslaught of touches against your sensitive clit, body clenching up when he taps at your bud quickly.

“Ab-about…about you fucking me,” You squeeze your body closer to him. “Fucking me until I can’t think,” You don’t realise that you’re moving now, grinding up and down against his fingers that are fucking into you.

Haechan groans at your words and actions, eyes squeezing shut as you start to chase your own pleasure. “That’s it baby, fuck. Wanted me to fuck my pretty girl dumb?” He hums against your cheek, placing a sweet peck against your skin, a stark contrast between his words and his grip on you.

You try to gather your wits, but Haechan lets his other hand wander up your body, shoving your shirt and bra away in favour of freeing your boobs. You moan when he pinches your nipple, your body shuddering at the different stimulations.

“Didn’t know my baby was so dirty,” He chuckles at your reaction, scratching his nail against your nipple before rolling it between his fingers. “When did you get like this?”

“In the car,” Your confession slows his movements, but you’re too busy chasing your high to realise. “On the drive when you were next to me. Your scent was jus’.. Everywhere.” Your hands clasp on his shoulder for support, thighs aching as you grind your core against his hand. “Wanted you to take me right there,” 

You just miss the sharp intake of breath he takes, eyes going unfocused at your desperate form trying to find some sort of release, getting off only with his two fingers in you.

“Fuck,” He moans breathily, eyebrows furrowing. “Shit— so fucking dirty, thinking of wanting to take me where anyone can hear, can look.” He keeps his fingers still for longer, wanting to see how far you’d go to chase your own high, slick sounds tightening the knot in his stomach.

His eyes look mesmerised as he watches your every move, even when you move yourself up and off of his fingers. You start shaking your head, clawing at his clothes. “Can’t,” You groan, “Can’t finish like this.. Need you, so bad.”

Haechan moans at your desperate hands before copying your movements, shoving your shorts and underwear away before letting you do the same. His cock bobs against his stomach once you pull it out of its confines, and you feel drool gather at your mouth at the sight, tip adorned in a pretty shade of red and glistening with precum, leaving a spot of wetness against his skin, exposed by you pushing his shirt up, wanting to see more of him.

Once all your clothes are off and discarded, you don’t hesitate to reach forward and kiss him, lips parting against each other as you press your bodies together. Your hand travels to his chest, nail catching on his nipple as you let your fingers descend down, the scratch on his sensitive skin making his body jolt, hips bucking forward as a whine falls from his lips.

Your hand clasps his dick in your hold, separating from the kiss to look down as you pump him a few times. He moans against your cheek as his eyes fall shut, not being able to look at you pumping him for long, scared he’ll finish right then and there.

“Pretty doll,” He pants. “Love —fuck, love having you against me,” At the pet name, you can’t help but keen, wanting to hear more of his praises. Planting one more kiss against his plush lips, you let your mouth travel down against his figure, only stopping when you’re right at his groin. You arch your back for better leverage, before guiding the tip to your awaiting mouth. You press your tongue against him, kitten licking around the head as you gather his precum, before pressing an open mouth kiss.

“Fuck,” He hisses when you let his tip go past your lips. “So good, such a good girl for me,” You keen at his words, humming around his cock before going further down, wanting to take more of him. When your tongue swipes at the underside of his head, you feel his thighs tense around you, hip stuttering a bit from wanting to fuck against the tight heat of your mouth. Haechan tilts his head down as he squeezes open his eyes, wanting to see you take him in.

You don’t get to test your limit on his dick before you feel a hand settle at your cheek, pulling you up and off of him. He leans down, meeting you halfway to kiss you, tasting a bit of himself when your tongues swipe against each other.

“Couldn’t,” he pants when you pull away from each other, hands gripping your waist as he manoeuvres you to lay flat against the bed. “Wanted to fuck you, couldn’t handle not being in you any longer.”

You smile at his desperation, letting yourself be handled into the position he wants you in. His cock shines with a mix of your spit and his precum, tip sensitive and red as he grips at his base, giving it a few pumps before tapping it against you. You whimper when his head meets your clit, finally feeling the pressure again where you want it the most. Haechan can feel his composure slowly slipping away, the control he’s had before withering as he sees you laid before him, chest heaving up and down and you wait for his next move. So pliant and so ready, all for him.

He says just as much, as he leans over you, placing a hand near your head while the other repeatedly taps his dick against your folds. “Look so perfect, so needy. All for me, right?”

“Yours,” You drape your hands over his shoulders, wanting to feel him all over you. “All yours,”

“Yeah?” His voice is soft as he says this, eyes lilting up from your pussy hugging his cock, as he slides over your folds, gathering your wetness onto himself. “All mine.” 

His eyes are now caught between your bodies, mesmerised by the way his dick looks between your folds. Straightening his back, you see him get hypnotised by the slide of your bodies together, keening into you further when you moan and writhe against him as his swollen tip brushes over your clit.

“Good for me,” he lets his hand slide down your body, gripping up and down your thigh before he grips himself at the base. Without another word, he slowly pushes himself into you, drowning in your moans as he bottoms out. You feel your walls clench tightly, sucking him in as you arch your body into him.

You curse when his pelvis stills at your hips, but he doesn’t move, staying fixed against you before dipping his head down, and landing a kiss on your lips. This time, his lips move with less fervour and more passion against you, suddenly slowing down the rush you feel buzzing in the air between you.

“Haechan, please,” You pant when he separates from you, hugging your legs around his waist and pushing your bodies together in lieu of wanting more. “Please move, want more,”

You don’t miss the shiver the throb of his cock inside you when you clench again, wanting to encourage him to do something. He presses a sweet kiss against your lips once more, and another against your cheek before pulling back; enough to be able to travel his gaze all over your face, taking in your dilated pupils and glistening lips. 

His eyes locked onto yours with a sincerity that sent shivers down your spine. "I like you," Haechan confesses, breath warm against your skin. "I want us to be more than just this; than just this moment." 

You’re taken aback by the sudden confession, yet you feel your body warm for reasons other than the heat that’s between your legs. 

"I don't want this to end either." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but Haechan’s relieved smile lets you know that he’s heard you nevertheless. Diving down, he kisses you hard, teeth lightly clacking against one another as the both of you smile into each others’ mouths. He moves back a bit, before thrusting in and filling you once more, letting you feel him fully to the hilt over and over again. He moans low against your lips, and you feel your thighs shake around his waist, feeling overwhelmed by his touch and sounds.

“Can I,” He pants as he picks up the speed, his hand going to your leg before pulling it up to press flush against your chest. “Can I be yours?”

“Yes,” You whine. “Be mine, all mine.” You clench around his cock again, making him groan out against you. “Fuck, Haechan. I’m all yours. Please,” You aren’t sure what you’re begging for at this point, but it seems like Haechan is just a step ahead, knowing what you want before you can want it.

Pressing your legs against your chest, he goes to drive himself right flush against you, pressing you into a mating press. “S-shit—”

“Oh my god,” You sob as you feel him deep inside. “S’ deep,”

“You’re so pretty,” His eyes cast down between your linked bodies as he says this. “So pretty and hot, taking me so well.” He moves to clasp your leg over his shoulder, stretching you open for him, the pain in your body is nothing in comparison to the pleasure he delivers with each plough of his dick into you. “Can’t believe you wanted me to do this to you in front of everyone,”

“God—” Haechan’s words combined with the join of his finger against your clit send you into a fury, body clenching as your back arches off the bed. “Gonna—”

”Fuck you with my fingers where everyone can see,” His fingers tap incessantly against your bundle of nerves, hissing as you grip his bicep. “Would you let everyone hear you come? Show everyone who can make you feel this good,” He’s now mumbling to himself, hips snapping with a whimper falling from his lips when he feels your walls tighten against him. “Look at you, all fucked out and pretty. Who else makes you feel this good?”

“You,” you gasp, now panting, body wanting to writhe away from the overwhelming amount of feelings you’re filled with. “Only you can make me feel this good Haechan, fuck—”

“Are you close?” He hums, and a groan slips out from his lips at the nod of your head, watching the way you bounce on his cock, tits bouncing up and down from each drive of his hips. “You’ve been so good, let go, baby,” He leans in to plant a kiss on your lips and cheek, and with a few more targeted taps against your clit and a steady thrust of his hips, you feel hot white course through your body as you reach your peak. He peppers kisses down your face and into your neck, hips slowing down as he burrows his head in your neck, allowing you time to come down from your high.

As he goes to pull out and move away, you channel all your force to keep your legs locked behind his back, keeping him in place inside of you. “Inside,” Your voice is hoarse from feeling fucked out. “Come inside me, please Hyuckie,” 

It seemed that your words were all he needed to push him over the edge, as his hips stutter once, twice, before you feel the twitch of his cock inside of you and spurts of cum fill your cunt. His whimper muffles against your neck, bodies running hot as sweat gathers on your skin. 

“You good?” His voice is soft when he says this, hand coming to caress your hair and cheek, a stark contrast against teh harsh plough of his hips earlier. You smile dazedly as you lean against his palm, nodding and kissing his hand, which he pulls back gently and places a kiss at the exact spot your lips landed, before coming to kiss you directly. 

“Bear with me,” He mumbles when he pushes himself up straight, and you wince when he slowly pulls himself out of you. You can feel the slow gush of his cum seeping outside of your hole, and Haechan’s eyes looked mesmerised once more as he looks at your cunt. Almost as if by reflex, his fingers reach out to your sensitive core, gathering the messy mix of your fluids before plunging his fingers back into you, plugging your pussy back full with his cum.

You whine loudly at the overstimulation, spent body twitching as you let Haechan do what he wants. “S-sorry,” He still seems dazed as he says this, eyes unable to stray away from your pulsing pussy. “Couldn’t help it…” He pulls out his fingers, spreading them and looking at the wet mixture of your sticky release.

“Haechan…” His eyes widen when you mumble his name, but soften when you reach out your hands weakly, gesturing him in for an embrace. “C’mere,”

Like a teddy bear, he cuddles into you without hesitation, body curving into you as he gently moves both of you around to lay comfortably. He kisses the crown of your head, cheek smushing against your forehead as he tries to get as close to you as possible. “Was that good?”

You hum. “Everything I wanted and more, you were so good to me.” Although you know he tried to hide it, you still feel the giddiness course through him, his skin now growing warm against you at your praise.

You can slowly feel the exhaustion catch up, the task of keeping your eyelids peeled open getting more difficult as time passes by. 

“Thank you, Channie,” You mumble tiredly, feeling his skin rumble beneath you as he hums. 

“Anything for my baby,” And before you know it, you slowly fall asleep.

It didn’t take long for people to realise the two of you are together, and it wasn’t even Naeun’s fault this time.

The one who makes it known to the whole campus that you’re together is Haechan, and you would be flattered that he can’t help but mention you every second sentence, always finding a way to say the phrase ‘my girlfriend’ in any given context, but you also can’t help but be embarrassed about the fact that he’s parading you around like this.

So, everyone knows you’re together. But they also know the water bucket prank, and how you both now know who it actually was. 

Being the partner of the campus prankster and class clown means that everyone knows about the incident of you getting soaked right before your mandatory class. But when you had thought that it was Haechan to blame, the car ride back from the village had raised your suspicions of Minseok, when he had tried to convince you that it was, in fact, Haechan who pulled it; his source being.. gut feeling?

Jihoon had also confessed a week after the camping trip about how Minseok had drunkenly confessed to wanting to prank the prankster, setting up the water bucket thinking Haechan was to attend that class. Unfortunately, his plan fell through when you walked in instead. 

You would’ve accepted Minseok’s apology for dunking the water on you, even if he didn’t intend to do that to you; but that’s the problem. He didn’t apologise and even tried to deny the fact that he had planned on doing that when you had brought it up to him. He had avoided both you and Haechan, which was such a petty thing to do. With the grudge you’ve been holding against Haechan when you thought he was the original pranker, you’re unable to tone it down with Minseok this time around. You don’t want to start with the fact that it was a simple, water bucket again. 

So it goes without further saying that the party that’s being hosted by Sunwoo again is not one without purpose. Haechan had always had something up his sleeve when something like this happened (which, taking into account his reputation, this wouldn’t be his first rodeo). But unfortunately (but fortunate for one), you’re nowhere to be seen yet.

Minseok is bouncing his leg as he sits on the couch, hand gripping his cup which was been empty for more than twenty minutes, too nervous to move off of the couch and get himself more in case anything happens to him. When people come up to him, offering him a dance or a shot, he shakes his head no vehemently, not wanting to take the chance.

When Naeun drops down next to him on the couch, drink swiping around in his cup, his eyes widen in fright as his heart starts beating erratically. The girl giggles at his cautiousness, going to smack at his shoulder, which he effectively avoids just in case that was part of an act.

“It’s so funny—” Naeun’s giggle gets cut off by a hiccup. “Because, you’re so scared now. Did you plan on gluing yourself to the couch or is that what they pulled on you?” On her claim, Minseok’s bouncing leg immediately ceases any movement, as his body suddenly goes stiff, now looking at the girl beside him incredulously. 

Naeun shrieks in the middle of her laughter at his expression, as Minseok suddenly shoots up from his sitting position, looking at the couch he was just perched on while his hands grasp at his ass, checking for any damage. Naeun almost falls to the floor with how hard she’s laughing now, heaving at Minseok’s expense.

“Not funny,” Minseok frowns at her toppled figure, now warily scanning around the place once more, feeling vulnerable now that he’s standing.

Naeun rubs at the corner of her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. “They’re not here tonight if that helps.” It took the wary man a few seconds to realise who she was talking about. “Haechan had a last-minute shift to cover or something early tomorrow morning, and so they both decided to skip out on this party.” She chuckles against her cup, taking a sip as she lets her eyes scan Minseok’s quivered stance. “So you can relax. For now. I'm gonna go find the love of my life.. I mean Jeno,”  

The gleam in her eyes grows as she stands when Minseok scans around the party once more, before heading to the kitchen, deciding that he finally needs another drink.

Walking next to Haechan, you shush him when he suddenly starts talking loudly, animated expressions making you laugh while you shove at his shoulder with your own. You walk down the campus hallways, making your way towards the broadcast club room for today's meeting, with Haechan insisting on dropping you off.

When you’re shoving Haechan away from poking at you, nearing the door of the meeting room, your attention catches on to another person lingering in the stark empty hallway. When you look to you’re side, you’re met with Minseok, his expression shocked still as he, too, heads towards the room.

“Oh,” You’re a bit breathless from trying to avoid all of your boyfriend's onslaught attacks. “Hey Minseok,”

“W-what..” He starts, before clearing his throat, not wanting to come off as weak or scared. “What are you guys doing?”

Haechan’s arm is slung around your shoulder, squeezing you to his side. “Just dropping her off at the broadcast room.” Oh, of course. The same reason why he’s also situated in the hallway. 

“Go on, Seok.” You motion towards the door, encouraging him to go ahead first. “I’ll say bye to Haechan and I’ll come i—”

“No!” Minseok exclaims with his hands stretched out, shaking them vehemently before dropping them down after realising how dramatic his actions were. “Uh, it’s okay. I’ll wait, and we can all go in together." He hopes his expression comes off as kind, but from the look on both of your faces, it seems to be more similar to a grimace than anything.

“Actually,” Haechan starts, wanting to get rid of the awkwardness swirling. “I’ll come in too. Jihoon needed my help with a sound system.” Even with Minseok closer to the door, it doesn’t seem like the boy is gonna make an effort to go in; not unless you two do, and prove to him that nothing is waiting for him on the other side.

“Well, okay..” You glance at your boyfriend with a questioning look, to which Haechan merely shrugs at you, his mouth turned downward. Stalking towards the door, you open it slowly stepping in while holding it open for the two men to get in. Minseok is still vigilant, looking at all corners of the open door for anything out of place, famously a bucket of something, maybe.

But when you head in and look back at him expectantly, he stalks in eventually, embarrassed at seeming so cautious about —seemingly— nothing in particular.

A chorus of greetings is shared, with you and Haechan waving hi to everyone and heading towards your friends, sitting down and starting conversation. Minseok doesn’t let up, getting a thorough look at the room he’s frequented a lot, scanning for any misplacements or outliers. He squats down to take a look below the table and cranes his neck to take a good look at the ceiling. He’s the last to realise the room going silent, as everyone looks at him expectantly, casting glances at each other at his odd behaviour.

It’s Sohee who breaks his quest. “Are you gonna take a seat or not?” At that, Minseok startles, before realising that everyone’s attention is caught on him. His cheeks warm up as he goes to his seat, tucking himself against the table before muttering a meek apology. 

As the meeting commences, Minseok can’t help but look around the room restlessly, feeling on edge even when everyone sends him weird glances when he bounces his leg endlessly or takes a look to his left and right periodically. 

But the meeting ends, and nothing out of the ordinary happens. Everyone gets out of their seats, and you head towards Haechan and Jihoon, who are huddled in a corner next to the stereo, fiddling around with it as they finish up their work. Minseok suddenly feels ashamed for suspecting the two of you; just because he was menacing enough to pull something doesn’t mean you would do the same. Packing his things from the table, he goes to stand up and heads towards you, repeating in his head how to apologise to you two. But even with a hand braced against the table to steady him, he couldn’t get to his feet.

“What—” He tries to stand up once more, both hands now braced against the chairs’ handles, but to no avail. The chair topples ever so slightly as he exerts all his force, and it's as if he’s glued to the chair.

“You—!” When you turn to look at him, you topple over with laughter, your hand finding Haechan’s shoulder to shake, wanting to bring his attention towards Minseok who’s struggling against the chair. Haechan grins, coming to a stand next to you and looking at the boy. Everyone else giggles along at the carried-out prank, slowly filling out the room but not before taking a quick picture and video. 

“Oh no, are you okay Minseok?” Jihoon’s fake worry makes shame bubble in said person's stomach. “It seems like you’re stuck,” 

Coming up to him, you place a pair of pants on the table near him, giving him a sweet smile. “I don’t think you’ll be able to come out in one piece, so here’s some emergency supply.” You give him a pat against his shoulder, before Haechan softly grabs your hand, bringing you towards the door before giving Minseok a wave goodbye.

thank you loads for reading till the end!! I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, its late rn and I'm not bothered to really go through it thoroughly once more. also, will I ever learn how to pace my fics after the two characters get together????? guess we wont ever know

if you liked this, please don't hesitate to let me know!

[gremlin-girly]

Forget-me-not Blues

Ask and ye shall recieve! Buckle up buttercups, this is my first Soulmate AU.

Banner by me and the images were sourced from Pinterest, made in Canva

Dividers by: @/sweetmelodygraphics

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Tags/Warnings: FLUFF, ANGST/WHUMP, Soulmate Mate Mark AU!, mentions of death., mentions of torture, right person wrong time, 2nd and 3rd person P.O.V, petnames (doll)

I’m leaving out some tags so I don’t go spoiling the plot so please read at your own risk! Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated (or put through AI)

A/N: I cut a huge chunk about Soulmate AU context at the beginning because it felt unnecessary. It's just a world where word/phrase of the soulmate's is written on them; it's not always the first thing they say to a person :)

More Author’s Notes are at the end of this fic so if you want to know more about the flowers and some thoughts I had whilst writing this, please go take a peek! This has been a labour of love.

Summary: A story about finding and losing soulmates to the test of time.

Word count: 4.2k

Navigation | The Bucky Barnes Collection

1942

Your family had owned a flower stand for as long as you could remember. Ever since you could stand on your own two feet your father put you to work handing out daisies to every woman, young or old, that passed by just to put a smile on their face.

Adorned with roses, daisies, poppies and more, the colourful stall had always been popular. Your father expertly wrapped combinations of flowers in old newspapers until the war began. He believed it was bad luck to wrap gifts in bad news.

When your father had been called to return to service, he had entrusted the stall to you. The old women who’d lost husbands and sons in the war would often buy a poppy or three, and any of the soldiers on a short stay would always buy a dozen or so roses for all of the dames.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes was one of your best customers. Bucky was always smiling, flirting and generally schmoozing his way by, often with a battered Steve Rogers in tow. Bucky being the big romantic he was liked roses, of course, and would frequently stop by your stall on his way home from work.

“Hey doll,” Bucky grinned, leaning against your display table.

You couldn’t help but smile back. The playful air he had around him was infectious and you half wished you could find a soul mate like him. Or wished you could just have him.

“Afternoon Buck,” You fluff up a pile of pink roses. Despite the trying times, business was booming. A lot of dates, a lot of weddings and a lot of funerals. “Want the usual?”

Bucky plucks up a rose and twirls it in his fingers before raising it to his nose and inhaling the gentle, sweet scent. His grin grows wider, his boyish charm shining through with the glimmer of mischief in his blue eyes and the dirt on his cheeks from a long day at work.

You know what’s coming next.

“No, Bucky.” You say airily, smiling at him as you move to the next pile of roses on the stall. Bucky gapes at you.

“Please, doll. One dance - that’s all ’m askin’!”

It’s now the sixth time he’s asked you and each time he looks like a kicked puppy when you tell him no.

“Yes but one dance turns into two, then three.” You tease, moving around the stall to face him, plucking the rose from his fingers and leaning close. “And then you’ll be dancing with a new dame next week anyway. I’m just cutting out the middle man. Plenty of men like you come by my stall, James.”

You turn away from him with a short shrug, placing the pink rose back into it’s correct pile before moving to a new carefully packed crate of flowers that need unpacking.

“What if I’m not the man you think I am?” Bucky counters, following after you. “Maybe I’m terrible at dancing.”

Chuckling you turn to face him, ready to spout another weak excuse to not go with him, when one of your white roses is stuffed under your nose. Raising an eyebrow you look over at Bucky, who’s smirking at you.

“Hi, my name’s Bucky and, if you’d be so kind as to let me take you dancing sometime, I promise to make it worth your while.”

You feel heat crawl up your face as you start to laugh. “Why are you introducing yourself to me?”

“Because,” Bucky shrugs, the twinkle in his eyes becoming a bright sparkle now that you’re laughing. “I’m not the man you think I am. And life’s too short, doll. I’d like to spend at least one night of my life dancin’ with you.”

How were you going to argue with that?

But something seemed… strange. When you’d say no, usually he’d banter with you a bit more and ask about your dad, you’d ask after his mom, his sister and Steve before he’d trot on his merry little way with you gazing after him.

Today, Bucky was insistent but behind his eyes was a sadness you hadn’t seen before. Your heart strings tugged, something within you screamed at you to say yes like you had desperately wanted to all those times before. No more imagining what it would feel like to have his hands in yours as you twirled and danced well into the night.

“Sure,” you sigh after a few moments, trying not to seem too eager. Bucky beams at you so brightly anyone else would think you’ve hung the moon and hands you your white rose with a mocking bow.

“One dance.” You add firmly, heart fluttering as your fingers brush his when you pluck the rose from him.

Bucky puts his hand on his heart, beginning to walk backwards. As he passes your stall he stuffs a dollar into your change jar and bats his eyelashes innocently at you.

“I only need one dance to make you fall in love with me, doll!” He continues walking backwards, narrowly avoiding other New Yorkers, but his eyes never leave yours. “I’ll pick you up at seven!”

You shake your head with a grin, watching him go. There was an electric charge all around you and you felt excited for your long-dreamed-of date with one Bucky Barnes.

Dancing with Bucky was exactly how you imagined it would be; your feet barely touched the ground as he spun and lifted you. You felt lighter than air as you looked down at Bucky's grinning face, eyes sparkling with joy as he held you close. One dance quickly turned to three.

After the third, Bucky led you to a nearby table.

"So much for one dance." Bucky teases lightly, his hand still lightly holding your waist. You're thankful your flushed cheeks hide your embarrassment but you're smiling regardless. Before he can ask you what drink he can get you, We'll Meet Again begins to crackle over the speaker and you drag him back to the dance floor.

"Hey, shouldn't I be leading doll?" He jokes, hands immediately encompassing your hips once you'd found a space to sway in.

"Hush," You murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I like this song."

Bucky smiles down at you and says nothing further until the song finishes. You both mimic the other, swaying to the music and gently singing along as you gaze at eachother.

"I should walk you home doll." Bucky says quietly once the song finishes. You feel a little light-headed and breathless, even though you'd only been swaying and you notice that Bucky's hands are still on your waist.

"O-okay." You swallow. If Soulmates didn't exist, you'd be kissing him right about now. "I know a short-cut."

"This," Bucky looked up as the wrought iron fence. "Is a short-cut?"

"Where's your sense of adventure?" You grin back at him as you crawl through a gap in the fence. "Come on Sarge, it's not far I promise."

Bucky sighs with a smile, pulling his dress pants up so they don't rip at the knees when he crawls through the gap after you. You take his hand and lead him blindly through the dark park, the both of you stumbling and giggling like teenagers, until you reach a dirtpath leading through a small thatch of trees to a clearing. The light of the moon illuminates the clearing into a sea of blue. Forget-me-nots are clustered together in one large group in the clearing; thousands upon thousands of tiny blue flowers that disappear to black when the moon vanishes again behind a cloud.

"Wow," Bucky breathes. "You've been holdin' out on me, doll. If I knew this was here, I'd have taken you on a romantic picnic instead of dancin'."

“Yeah, I could spend forever getting lost in those forget-me-not blues,” you sigh wistfully, looking over at Bucky's face.

“Well doll, forget me not.” He punctuates each word with a sad smile.

What should be a joyous moment filled with love, happiness and a rainbow of technicolour is soured by the harsh reality that Bucky wouldn't be staying in New York any longer. You shouldn't be too surprised, you knew he got drafted but you can see it in his eyes, the utter sadness of your situation. You can't even enjoy finding your soulmate in peace.

“You’ve got orders.” You can barely eke the words out of your closing throat.

Bucky nods, swallowing thickly and looking at your entwined hands. “Got my letter the other day. England."

You breathe out, long and slow, your nose becoming more blocked as more tears stream down your face and your throat burns with unvoiced sobs. It was unfair. So, so unfair.

“I could never forget you James Buchanan Barnes. Never.“ You say firmly, gazing over at him and squeezing his hand hard.

"I'll write to you everyday." He promises, squeezing your hand back. "I'll come back and visit every chance I can get until this war is over. And then-"

You cut him off with a quick kiss that doesn't even begin to convey how happy you are to have found him, trying to protect your heart from more hurt that undoubtedly will come.

"Save it for your letters," You tease softly, sniffing away tears. "I want something to look forward to while I wait."

Bucky grins and pecks your lips back. "You got it, doll."

You both stay on that log until the early hours, basking in each other's presence before Bucky was deployed to England the next afternoon. The voids left in your hearts when you separated were almost too much to bare but when you were safely home, and Bucky tucked away on a boat, you both immediately began to work on your letters to each other.

Being posted in England isn't too bad to begin with. In fact, Bucky thinks that his letters are too boring but he doesn't want to fill the letters with how much he misses you or how he wishes he could be with you instead; he knows you know it too, and it doesn't make it hurt any less.

When he's sent to Europe, suddenly those boring, mundane letters are a God-send. One of your letters contained a good Iuck charm, courtesy of your small slice of blue paradise ; a single pressed forger-me-not into a piece of card with a lipstick stain of your lips on the reverse. Bucky kept the piece in his left breast pocket, just over his heart, keeping the thought of you near wherever he went.

The first thing he does after Steve rescues him is write you.

He leaves out the details but tells you not to worry, he'll be home soon. Tell Mom and Rebecca not to worry too.

Days later, when he's lying in the snow bleeding from the Stump that was his left arm, he wonders if it was all worth it. Your lucky charm had disappeared somewhere during the fall and Bucky sobbed at the thought that not only had he lost his arm but a piece of you too. Delirious with blood loss, he imagined your face in the cold comfort of the snow, smiling playfully like you always did, kissing him so tenderly like you had on your date all those moons ago. He couldn't leave you without a soulmate.

Hearing approaching footsteps crunching in the snow, Bucky screamed for help, hoping, praying that it was Steve.

It wasn't.

Turns out, HYDRA don't like it when their science experiments escape and despite vowing to escape a second time once he's healed, it's nigh impossible. And not without consequence.

Bucky's vow quickly becomes to always remember you instead when he's strapped to the electric chair, biting on his tongue so hard he draws blood. The more his brain cooks in the chair, the more torture he's subjected to, the more your face blurs in his mind's eye. It kills him, little by little, knowing you're fading from his memory but he still tries to remember your face. He still hopes, dreams and thinks of you. Would you remember him? Would you recognise him if he returned from this hell on Earth?

What breaks him is not the twenty-seven long years of being thawed and unthawed, tortured and electrocuted. It's the one rainy day where his heart hurts so badly, he screams until he can't any longer. It's the day his blurred soulmate's face is torn from his soul and leaves him all alone in the cruellest, darkest place imaginable.

The premature death of Bucky Barnes' soulmate caused the birth of the Winter Soldier after twenty-seven gruelling years.

How could you suffer on knowing you would never see your one true love again? His brain and heart couldn't win out after that.

Present Day

Museums were Bucky’s favourite places to be on his days off. There was something comforting about the silence and the relics of human history, the evolution and study of animals, rocks and bones and the celebration of human artistry that wasn’t as overwhelming as the Internet. The Internet was faster, sure, but museums had everything in one neat place and no two museums were the same.

He and Steve had spent countless days of their childhood visiting the Natural History Museum and then when he'd finally broken away from HYDRA, he'd visited every museum he could find to learn about himself and the developments after the war that he'd missed.

Today, though, Bucky had decided to take a longer wander through the galleries. It was easy to walk through and ignore the paintings until something caught your eye but Bucky was insistent that he would stop at every painting today and perhaps try to see what Steve sees.

The galleries aren’t busy, as usual. A few old couples taking a wander through, a gaggle of tourists taking photos and an art student or two studying brush strokes of portraits. However, in a small alcove surrounded by paintings of flowers and woodland, sat a woman who looked entirely out of place.

It wasn't with what she was wearing or how she looked but something just didn't seem right. Bucky knew he should probably investigate but dammit it was his day off; he deserved some peace and quiet.

The woman is still there when he makes it to the alcove and the pull from his chest is unbearable now. He was wrong before when he'd thought that she didn't seem right; she was perfect. He couldn't remember when he'd last seen someone so beautiful that she looked like a rare painting come to life. Nervous didn't begin to describe the feelings swirling in his chest. There was an unfathomable joy coupled with anxiety and he wished he kept gum in his leather jacket right now.

“I could spend forever getting lost in those forget-me-not blues.” The woman sighs dreamily, gazing at the painting before her.

The hair on Bucky’s arm and neck stand on end, his heart rate sky rocketing. He’d heard that phrase before.

“What did you say?”

Bucky's caught off guard when she turns to look over at him, her eyes catching his for a small respite and he almost folds like a deck chair. The air is sucked out of Bucky’s lungs so quickly he can barely process it and he feels faint, no dizzy, from just looking at her properly. Her eyes are wide with surprise but there's a sliver of playfulness that hides within them and whatever ever was nagging at him earlier has now blossomed into a crackling hearth of building adoration that was vaguely familiar somehow.

Bucky's eyes drop to her neck, where a tiny blue flowers pendant sits on a delicate silver chain. It's delicate but sweet, an almost perfect compliment to her being.

“Oh! I’m sorry. Talking to myself.” The stranger gives him a sheepish smile and turns back to the painting. “Beautiful isn’t it?”

Bucky tears his eyes from her and looks at the painting; two blurred figures dancing amongst a sea of blue flowers, similar to the necklace she wears. The male figure is holding the female figure's hand as her dress billows and blends into the flowers. Although they don't have faces, it's clear these figures are happy and in love.

For some odd reason, Bucky feels a wave of melancholy. He can't place why when there's a stunning woman in front of him.

"Does it make you feel sad?" The woman asks suddenly. Bucky glances over to see that her expression has changed to one of longing.

"I... yeah. Even though-"

"-they look happy." She finishes, looking over with a wry smile. "Sorry, I shouldn't be so depressing to a stranger."

Bucky smiles and shifts on his feet. He wants to say something more, tell her that it's fine, but instead he dumbly states;

"I like your necklace."

He regrets it as soon as he says it and looks to his feet. Didn't this used to be easy? Hadn't he charmed women both as Bucky and the Winter Soldier?

"Oh! This?" She fiddles with the pendant between her thumb and fore finger, inspecting it gently. She doesn't seem bothered by the awkward compliment. "I just like forget-me-nots."

Forget-me-nots. Something in his mind flashes with recognition.

“Why forget-me-nots?” He asks suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you like them?”

The woman pauses and scratches her face thoughtfully, as if trying to place when she began loving the tiny flower. "I… don’t know, actually. I just always have.”

She offers Bucky a shrug. “I guess they’re pretty? Teeny, tiny little things but the colour?” She gives Bucky an impressive smile but then it falters for a moment as she catches his eyes again, really looking at them this time. “Wow. Your eyes are some shade of blue.”

Bucky starts to smile wider. He feels like himself, how he used to be back in the 30s. Even though there's something about her that makes him suffer this almost recognition, like she’s a word stuck on the tip of his tongue, he can't deny the joy and warmth he feels in her presence and he can't help but want keep speaking with her.

“Thanks.” He clears his throat and tries for nonchalance. "Do you... come here often?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he cringes, scrunching his face with disgusted embarrassment. So much for feeling like himself. Was flirting always so hard?

"Ugh. Sorry that was.... oh God." Bucky runs a hand down his face as the woman laughs.

“It’s alright and to answer, no - I don't. Today I just, well, it sounds stupid. But today I just really wanted to come here. I usually just walk straight past but I’m glad I did.” The flirtatious smirk she gives Bucky makes his knees wobble and he has to shift his weight to hide it. "You probably already know why they’re called forget-me-nots.” Bucky says, opting to try to sound knowledgeable instead of cool. Maybe that would be a better play. He doesn't know what's gotten into him. He's usually calm and collected. However, his heart is beating so hard he's scared it may fall right out of his chest.

“I do but tell me anyway.”

Bucky’s lip twitch into a smirk and the woman pats the empty space next to her, shuffling over slightly to make space for Bucky. His knee knocks hers and he gives a quiet, embarrassed apology before clearing his throat to recite what he'd been told.

“They used to be given to soldiers going off to war by their lovers.” He says. “I don’t remember who told me but…”

He trails but the woman is transfixed on his face.

"Sorry." Bucky scrunches his nose and smiles. "I got lost for a moment."

"At least you came back." The woman smiles in return. She looks back towards the painting again. Bucky tells himself that it’s out of old observational habits that he watches her face; how her eyes look longingly at the dancing couple of the painting, the sweet curve of her lips as she smiles.

"Do you think they were soulmates?"

"I think they're two people who love each other." Bucky says cautiously and when the woman raises an eyebrow at him, he shrugs sheepishly, waving his left arm. "Sorry I... I don't have one. The writing must have been on my left arm and I can't remember what it said. I'm a little jaded, unfortunately."

She frowns and points to his arm. "Your arm looks fine to me."

Bucky snorts and smiles sheepishly at her. “It’s a…. um, prosthetic. I don’t have any words anywhere else so they had to have been on my left arm. I should have been clearer."

“Oh.” The woman's face turns fire-engine red with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me."

"Don't worry about it." Bucky shrugs it off with a chuckle before swiftly changing the subject. "What do you like about the painting?"

“I’d love to do that one day.” She says wistfully after a moment, nodding at the figures.

“Do what? Dance?” Bucky asks curiously, sensing an opportunity. “You can dance whenever you want. We can dance right here if you want, I’ll ask one of the guards for music.”

She laughs, no chuckle this time, a pure lilt of happiness that makes Bucky’s heart twist in his chest and he can’t help but smile a little wider. Flirting was a little bit like riding a bike, not that he’d been interested in flirting much since having his brain fried multiple times.

The woman glances over at him, biting back a smile and rolling her eyes playfully. “Riiiiiight. Sure."

"I mean it!" Bucky bolsters, hopping to his feet. "I-..."

He falters for a moment when he sees her grin; her challenge. Her eyes meet his, bright and sparkling. Whatever he feels he knows she feels it too. He offers his left arm to her, stiff and awkward as his face blooms red.

“Hi, my name’s Bucky and, if you’d be so kind as to let have this dance, I promise to make it worth your while.”

The woman snorts and laughs again but she takes hold of his gloved hand, rising to her feet.

"Y/N. And just one." Her tone is firm but her glittering eyes betray the same excitement he feels. "What about music?"

"Heard they have music on phones nowadays, doll." Bucky quips, his free hand reaching for his phone in his back pocket. He doesn't notices she's raised a curious brow.

"Doll? That's a new one."

"I - oh..." Bucky grins sheepishly but before he can apologise, she stops him with a smile.

"I like it. Vintage."

Now it's Bucky's turn to snort. Who needed soulmates anyhow?

"Speaking of vintage." Bucky hits play on Vera Lynn's remastered classic.

"We'll Meet Again." She murmurs as Bucky's hands ghost along her waist. "Good choice."

"Thanks. Is this okay?"

"You're barely touching me." She giggles, wrists crossing behind his neck.

"Hey, I gotta make sure. Just follow my lead."

Vera Lynne's voice echoes around the alcove drawing curious peeks from other museum-goers but both Bucky and the woman in his arms couldn't care less as they swayed to the music. Y/N followed Bucky's footsteps as he guided her around the room with practices ease, poking fun at her lightly when she'd step on his feet accidentally.

An image rears its head in Bucky's mind's eye. There's a park, somewhere, with hundreds of forget-me-nots but he can't place the timeline. Did he go there as the Winter Soldier? Did he go there during the war? Was it a passing visit on a mission? He knows he didn’t find it, someone showed him. Maybe Steve? Someone else? Did he see it once in a dream?

“You’re a good dancer.” Y/N whispers against his chest as the song draws to a close. Bucky is sure she can hear his heartbeat through his leather jacket now. “I don’t think I could ever forget this.”

“Well, doll... Forget me not.” He doesn’t know why he says it. It’s cheesy at best, terrible word play at worst.

But she halts, blinking up at him. The silence in the alcove is so loud a pin could drop.

“What did you just say?”

It’s like a veil has lifted. The air shifts, Bucky can feel it now. That joy he buried earlier rose from the soles of his feet all the way up to his head. He felt like he was walking on air. He can see her eyes widen, further and further until their the size of dinnerplates, and there, almost within the depths of her soul; there's the flicker of recognition.

It's a domino effect. Y/N's soul reaches for Bucky's as memories flood back; lifetimes of memories, experiences and pain binding their souls together in a dance that will last for eternity.

The kiss they share is nothing like their first one. It's longer, more patient, relishing the electric feel of each other's lips for what feel like eons. “James Buchanan Barnes,” You breathe, tears of happiness filling your eyes. “I knew I wouldn’t forget you. And I knew you’d come back.”

"It's you," He chuckles, still not quite believing his eyes. "It's really you."

That playful smile he'd grown to love all those decades ago makes a swift appearance on your face and reaches the lights of your eyes as you look up at him.

"Now, if I remember correctly, we have a few decades worth of catching up to do."

END

A/N1: Ready for the flower symbolism? None of this the roses were pink because they were pink roses bs

Forget-Me-Nots: were given to lovers when their gifter went away to war. Commonly associated with the phrase “Forget me not.” (Duh). But they are also representative of remembrance, memory, love, friendship, hope, and fidelity. Source here

The necklace is based on this one on Etsy that I adore

Pink roses: (The first rose Bucky picks up and you steal back) symbolise admiration, happiness and love.

White roses: (The second rose Bucky picks up and hands to you) represent Innocence, purity and loyalty. Bucky’s intentions are were true.

These also are used for fresh starts, so can also be used as Bucky “starting over” (like when he goofily re-introduces himself to you and in the modern day where his memory has been wiped).

A/N 2: Name of the Fic

Well, a multitude of reasons really.

1) forget-me-nots are hardy plants that always come back (hence why reader says it to Bucky). He has an awful habit of bouncing back bless him.

2) Bucky’s Eyes: Azure blue? But there’s something about little poetic in a forget-me-not Blue ;)

3) Blues: Bucky is a big fan of Jazz, and Blues although Blues came before jazz its debated heavily on whether it is a sub-genre of jazz or if its a genre all on its own. Blues songs tend to be romantic, sad and slow; which I think are key elements of Bucky and his story.

4) Their meaning: true love and faithfulness. Can’t have a romance without those right?

5) the utter irony of the fact that Bucky did actually completely forget her lmao

A/N 3: I heavily debated how to incorporate the words of the Soul Mark back into modern day. Originally I was going to leave it kinda open ended at the gallery because I couldn’t think of a way to get Bucky’s words in without them seeming forced. But when I was doing a third edit of this, I realised they could end up having a haphazard date; which ended up as a replay of the 40s just so their souls could greet eachother again in the same place bc I am nothing if not a romantic at heart. I ended up scrapping that in favour of the museum alcove and having them recreate their "first date" there with the paintings acting as the woodland this time because I was struggling with dialogue and bridging the two - but I think it turned out pretty romantic!!!

This was my first time writing a Soulmate AU and I quite enjoyed myself! But I would like some feedback, and obviously all comments are welcome! It’s not to say I’m not proud of my other work on here but this story has been brewing for months (and I’m actually really happy that it won the WIP poll).

I wholly appreciate any comments or asks on this work!! I don’t quite think I’m ready to let it go yet 🥹 so much so that even though there's not a part 2 in the works, there's another fic in the same AU I'm working on ;)

Taglist

Add yourself to my taglist here

@irishhappiness | @awkwardgiraffe726

[whumpmasinjuly]

Now introducing the prompt list for Whumpmas in July 2024! 

Thank you for patiently waiting! As a reminder, we will not be reblogging any creations on this blog and will instead keep this blog as a space to only post the prompts, tags, and relevant information. We will post the tag for each day, and we ask that you use two tags when filling prompts this year so that others may find your creations easily:  Tag 1 —> #wij24day__ (Fill in the blank with the appropriate day number for the prompt you are filling! For example, if you are doing the prompt for day 21, make sure to tag your post with #wij24day21.)

Tag 2 —> #whumpmasinjuly2024 Be sure to also tag @whumpmasinjuly-archive if you would like your posts reblogged to our new official archive account! Of course, feel free to use any other relevant tags too! You can also find a banner that you can use in your posts (if you want, not required) under the #wijbanner tag.

The prompts are divided into three categories: community (red boxes), question (green boxes), and creation (white boxes). Everyone is free to participate as much or as little as they want–there’s no completionist requirement! This list provides a preview of the prompts, but on each day a more detailed post will be released with more context and additional suggestions for each day’s task. Similar to previous years, all prompts and other important information will be found under the #infowhumpmasinjuly tag and #infowij24 for ease of access. This blog will also use the tags #wijquestion , #wijcommunity , and #wijprompt respectively for each post so that you can filter and find the type of prompts you’d like to do. 

Below the cut is a text list of this year’s prompts:

1. (Re)Introduce yourself 2. What are your top three favorite whump tropes? 3. "______ deserved it" 4. Post a whump prompt for someone else to fill on Day 28 5. Share a TV show, movie, or any media that gives you the whumperflies! 6. Left Behind 7. Post a link to your favorite whump fic of all time! 8. Describe your favorite type of whumper 9. Mind Games 10. Check out a new whump blog and drop them an ask 11. What songs/playlists are perfect for whumpy daydreaming? 12. Caught 13. Share some of your favorite niche whump tags! 14. Describe the ideal fic you've always wanted to read, but have yet to find/haven't written yet. 15. A Soft Reprieve 16. Create a whump meme! 17. What has been your most recent whump obsession? 18. "Or else" 19. Create a list of some of your favorite whump blogs to share! 20. What character do you wish to see whumped more in canon/fan-made media? 21. Abandoned 22. Find a story/author you've never engaged with before, and leave some nice comments! 23. What is your favorite type of whump setting? 24. Denial 25. Share a sneak peek of something you're working on 26. Describe your favorite type of whumpee 27. Delirium 28. Fill someone's whump prompt from Day 4 29. When did you get your first whumperflies? 30. "I'm here" 31. Who is someone in the whump-creating world that you admire and why?

[subeddieweek]

Welcome to Sub Eddie Week 2025!

You will find all event information under the "read more" cut.

There are no official sign-ups for this event. Our interest form can be found here, but it is not required. This event is open for everyone who would like to participate and there's no deadline for deciding to join.

Prompts:

You'll notice that we only have one list of prompts this year instead of two! This is because there is so much overlap and some can be used in both sexual and non-sexual context.

We got a few questions last year asking if prompts on one side can be used for the other, and we decided that one list with many options will help ease any confusion.

Another note about prompts: some are vague for a reason! This is so you can make them work for anything you can think of. For example 'wet' can be used for watersports, cum play, spit, sweat, or anything else you can come up with that involves wetness. Another example would be 'heat' which can mean anything from omegaverse to just being too hot on a summer day.

We want everyone to use their imagination and not feel limited by any of these prompts.

Rules:

The first two rules are in place to keep this event safe. Mods do not feel comfortable moderating an event with sexual underage content, and we do not feel comfortable exposing anyone to untagged works. Please be mindful of your friends in this fandom and tag accordingly.

Posting guidelines:

Post using #SubEddieWeek, #Sub Eddie Week, or @SubEddieWeek on Twitter or Tumblr, and post AO3 fics to the SubEddieWeek Collection.

If you are posting on AO3, please include the “Sub Eddie Munson” tag so the tag can grow.

No minimum word count.

Late submissions allowed.

This is not a secret event, so feel free to post about your wips for this event and tag us so we can rt!

Also feel free to use this event to finish any wips you’ve already started, so we can cheer you on! Continuations and sequels are also allowed!

More information can be found in our FAQ. If you have any questions, please check here to see if we have already answered it. If we haven't, or if you're unsure about something, please ask! You can DM us or send an ask.

FAQ

AO3 Collection

Disclaimer: We will keep this event as open as possible and we would like to include everyone who participates. However, mods will have final say in all retweets, reblogs, and the AO3 collection for the event. Please try to follow our guidelines, and you will be included if you do. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask on tumblr or DM on twitter.

Lastly, huge thank you to everyone who has expressed interest this year, and everyone who participated in last year’s event. You all make this possible! Without the writers and artists, this would not be happening, so we hope everyone who wants to participate gets to.

Please tag us in all your WIPs for this event so we can cheer everyone on.

Happy 2025, let’s have some fun this year.

[mellowyellow236]

IVE JUST BEEN ON A BINGING SPREE OF YOUR WORK AND I LOVE IT SO SO MUCH??? YOUR WRITING IS SO CHEF'S KISS????

Its possible could i request for the first year (platonic ortho if you'd like to write him ^^) x reader with the kingdom dance scene from tangled the ost always has my heart pumping and i think its just a beautiful scene all around AAAA

Ahhhh thank you so much for requesting! Sorry that this took a while and isn’t very long, I haven’t watched Tangled in at least five years at this point so it was hard to remember the context behind the scene, especially since I couldn’t find an actual copy of the movie. But you are completely right, that soundtrack is absolutely wonderful! So much so that it’s now the tavern music I’m using in my Dnd campaign. Anyway, here you are! :D

How Would The TWST First Years Act With The Reader During The Tangled Kingom Dance Scene?

GN!Reader x first years, all are meant to be read as romantic except for Ortho’s, but can be read as platonic, too. No TW’s, just fluff. All parts under the cut.

Edit: added tags since I forgot before

Ace Trapolla -

Ace wasn’t excited to come down to town for the festival, so to speak. They lit the lanterns every year, but... Seeing you so happy for it did melt his heart if only a little. And seeing you get a chance to have your hair done by those little girls in the plaza was the cream on the cake. Once you had it braided with flowers and ribbons, you really did look beautiful.

He went away to grab you guys something to eat. He was only away for a second, but by the time he returned, he was watching you start a dance in the town square, inviting in various townspeople. Soon enough, most of the plaza was there. He didn’t want to join in, but he was being pushed into it before he had a chance to comprehend what was happening.

Dancing around, it was easy to see why so many had joined you. You were a great dancer, and it was fun to get to be with so many people. Even so, the fact that he wasn’t able to dance with you until the song was annoying for him. Up until he got to dance with you, of course. Anyone with a brain could see the stars in his eyes.

Deuce Spade -

Deuce loved the idea of getting a chance to take you to a festival. It would be your first one, and of course, he was very excited. So much so that he got a group of girls from the town to braid your hair. Try as he might, he couldn’t do it himself, although he did get you the ribbons and flowers to put in them.

When he went to go grab another thing of flowers for you, this time just for you to hold, he didn’t think twice when he saw you dancing. He dove right in, joining you and the other townspeople in dance, laughing. By the time he got to dance with you, he only had a single flower left, having given most of them away. Although, when he put that one behind your ear, it was clear he had saved the largest of the bunch for you.

Jack Howl -

Jack was too excited, but it wasn’t as though he didn’t want to go. Yes, it was exciting to go to a festival, but he’d already been to many of them. However, seeing how happy you were to go, he decided it was his mission to make sure you got the best experience possible.

However, he still had the ears of a wolf, and all of the loud noises and smells soon overwhelmed him. You two had to take coverage in a small library. He urged you to go back to enjoying the festival, he didn’t want you to stay behind for him, but when you didn’t, he did the next best thing and started teaching you about it. You were in a library, after all, and he was able to read and teach now that it was quieter. And in the end, isn’t wanting to spend time with your loved ones what the festival was all about?

Epel Felmeir -

Epel had been hoping you’d go with him to the festival since he heard about it, and so having you express an interest in it was something that made his day. He loved being able to go to all kinds of festivals back home, and he was sure he’d enjoy having you there for one with him, as well.

His favorite part? Getting to hide behind the wall of a bakery, eating cupcakes as Vil walks around outside of it searching for you two. Did you giggle so loudly you were caught? Yes. But was it worth it as he got to see you laughing, icing on your nose as you two ran through the streets, away from the pastry tyrant? It was. It was completely worth it.

Ortho Shroud -

Ortho was so happy when you invited him out! You two were going to be able to spend time together, and he got to have his first adventure into a festival while he was with you. He even got to make some friends with a few kids, and they taught him how to braid your hair!

And then you got to do chalk drawings together! You made a sun, and he made a drawing of him, Idia, and you. You’re a part of his family, too, and he’s so happy to be able to share a happy memory with you.

Sebek Zigvolt -

Sebek wasn’t excited at first. It was just a boring, human festival, nothing that could compare to the wonders of Fae traditions. But then, he saw you dressing up your hair and asking for help with it, and he couldn’t help but soften up to the idea just a little bit. Even humans could have a good festival or two, especially if those braided flowers are only the first part.

Out of all the first years, Sebek is the least excited to dance, yet also the best at it. Being Malleus’s personal guard, he took dance lessons, in order to blend in to any ballroom and guard Malleus even when he couldn’t be by his side. However, it was always just another part of his training, where he couldn’t even fight… Until you. Now, he’s dancing in the town square with you, hand in yours and one on your waist, mentally wondering how he got so lucky to end up here, with a human so wonderful they can make what he thought of as a boring activity into something beautiful and fun.

[catboybiologist]

Alright. We need to talk about screenshotting my posts and putting them on other sites.

tl;dr: feel free to screenshot and spread my posts, but if you do so or see someone else doing so, please let me know. Either tag me (same username on youtube and reddit) or send me a link here.

Reasoning/why I'm saying this now under the cut.

Recently, I've noticed increase in the number of my posts that have made it to the subreddit r/curatedtumblr. This subreddit is a bit of a gateway to tiktok, youtube, and any other site that reposts tumblr screenshots - usually, AI video voiceover videos use the exact screenshots that were posted to reddit first, so usually r/curatedtumblr is the first "leak" of a post having reach outside of tumblr itself.

Now.

Most of the time, I don't have a problem with this. I even like it when random stuff I say has a reach beyond my usual community, and maybe even has a chance to resonate with someone that wouldn't have seen it otherwise. I don't know which one of my posts are going to resonate with other communities and other people, so I also don't want the only way for a an idea of mine to make it to another platform to be me manually posting that idea there myself. curatedtumblr has a blacklist of blogs who do not want to be post to that subreddit, but for this reason, I don't necessarily want to add myself to this blacklist. And of course, most of the time what gets reposted is a random shitpost, so its not a big deal.

However. Occasionally, a post of mine that is political, or has a deeper discussion associated with it, or something along those lines, is reposted elsewhere. And well, things can get very weird. Discussion can go in directions that I can't control, context can be added or removed that completely alters my point, and I can start to attract hate from people without even knowing it. And when this happens, it tends to spill back to me. When my posts make it to other platforms, its pretty normal to get a slight uptick in hate, or even just people finding that post and adding their own misinterpretation or discussion that happened 100% without me knowing. Being looped into the conversation, or even being able to see what kind of

A frustrating, but ultimately harmless example, is the "peak androgyny gandalf big naturals" post. I added context to that to clarify the way I was making fun of societal standards of androgyny as a whole, when the post instead seemed to be interpreted as the "correct" way to be nonbinary, which was not my intention at all.

I found the post on reddit, posted my own screenshots with the context I added, and was able to participate in the conversation, which helped a lot! But, the original, contextless post was up long enough that it pretty much solidified that misinterpretation as the main way people read that post.

I considered posting something like this then, but again, its ultimately harmless. I would've liked to participate in the reddit discussion earlier, but no biggie. So I didn't mention anything then.

Today, I opened reddit and saw this:

That title is not mine. It was added by the person who posted it to curatedtumblr. I've since had a respectful conversation with u/Hummerous, and they agreed to take the post down. 0 hate to them, again, they were respectful, and I'm screenshotting their username with permission.

This reads as a call for violence. Specifically, it reads as a call for violence that I am saying, and was attributed to me without my knowledge or consent.

This was not the intention of the original post. I was specifically referring to social ostricization, deplatforming, and anger responses, which are the forms of "silencing" that conservatives typically complain about.

Look. Responsible left wing gun ownership is something I support. Calls to extreme action are sometimes warranted. However, I am not qualified to comment on these, encourage them, or communicate about them. Communication of a specific topic is a skill. I do not possess that skill as it relates to guns or gun ownership. There are many, many other activists who do. Miscommunication can be dangerous. I want the most qualified and strongest voices to communicate properly. For this issue, that is not me.

This post isn't even about gun ownership, but suddenly, I'm forced to comment on it. If it seems like I'm pussyfooting around the topic, then yeah, I am- because this post is a little fucking scary on my end, and escalates rhetoric against me and others around me. Again, without my knowledge or consent.

I saw this post and was able to request it be taken down. But by that time, it already had 1.2k upvotes and god knows how many people who had seen it. If I were tagged earlier, I could've asked for that earlier, and I would be a little less jumpy right now.

So please. PLEASE. If you see a post of mine on another platform, please either ping me on that platform or send me a link to that post via tumblr DMs.

[bigassmoonchild]

Feral

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

The first three parts give context, but aren't required for this read.

Summary: You had your problems with your squad, no different than anyone else running their first. One Alpha, Michael, gave you the most problems, dragging you from leave to punish them all. It didn't take long for him to become your biggest problem, or for Simon to try and take care of him.

Content Tags: Shouting (not w/ between Ghost & Reader), A lot of Anger, Fluff, Protective Ghost, Violence, Fighting, Ghost shows his Face, Non-Sexual Punishments, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost, No use of Y/N

A/N: I woke up this morning with over 100 notifications from tumblr, and I've spent all morning trying to think of another part for Maple Syrup. As always, content is under the cut and my asks are wide open <3.

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

Ghost could watch you forever. Seeing how you flit around the soldiers, taking care of each of them, barking orders at your own little squad. After being removed from missions, you were able to convince whoever would listen to give you a squad to train, a group of hopeful combat medics.

Sometimes he would find himself watching what you were doing, and he would inch himself close enough to hear what you'd be telling them. Sometimes, it was nothing short of you screaming at them, other times it might be explaining how to stitch someone up. Most times, you sat back and watched as they worked through the exercise that you had created for them.

You were still off on leave, leaving your squad under the hands of Soap and Gaz to train them further on combat situations. Ghost had spoken with them a few times, listening to them rant about the soldiers you had to deal with. Especially one Alpha, who had been demoted from a regular soldier to being entrusted with saving others.

So when Ghost got the first hint of your scent, not the stale one, his head spun to the doors. Your leave was supposed to last another 6 days, not that Ghost was counting, and worry spiked through him. Had something happened? Was everything okay with your family, or did you merely forget one of the gifts you were giving to your nieces and nephews?

When the door slammed open, your eyes gazed across the mess hall. Your brows were furrowed and Ghost could smell the anger lacing your scent, alongside the musty smell of the rain that was coming down. The room had gone silent, everyone looking over at you. Your eyes locked on your squad, body tensed.

"Get the fuck outside," you growled, staring through your squad. They hesitated and your fist slammed into the wall. "Now!" You shouted, watching as they scrambled up and moved. All but the Alpha, who moved leisurely. Your eyes didn't leave his and you pointed. "You move any slower and I'll have you dishonorably discharged for insubordination," the man didn't flinch.

He gave a smile, looking at you. "You're not even a soldier, you have no say in what I do," your muscles relaxed, leaning your head back, eyes falling closed. Ghost stood, moving towards the two of you, opening his mouth to say something.

"You're on my squad, you do as I say, unless you want me to remove you. You want this to be your last strike?" The Alpha looked away, opening his mouth to make a remark.

"I'm sure there isn't going to be a problem, is there?" Ghost finally spoke up, moving beside the man and staring down at him. The Alpha scoffed and walked away, leaving you looking around.

You gave a soft smile. "Leave your stuff, it'll be cleaned up," and you turned and walked away, adjusting a hood onto your head. Ghost stared after you before walking back to Soap and Gaz, sitting beside them again.

"What the hell happened?"

You stood in the rain, having grabbed another jacket to protect you from the chill of the wind, alongside the rain beating against you. Your squad was running until they collapsed or someone admitted who caused the problems. You knew, though, that the stubborn Alpha in your squad was always the problem.

"You need to get back here," Soap said into the phone. "I honestly don't know what to do with them," and you booked a flight.

Now you were waiting, patiently. Someone would give in soon enough, someone always did. There would always be a weak link, and if it took running them until they threw up so be it. A hand fell on your shoulder and you looked back, eyes climbing to find Ghost standing behind you.

"I've never heard you scream," you laughed, looking back to your squad. The Alpha ran at the front of them, no reaction to the amount of running he was doing. You were pretty sure he had lapped everyone at some point, but you weren't paying close enough attention.

You looked back to Ghost. "You have most definitely heard me scream, just not angrily. Soap called, said that the squad was getting out of control and they didn't know what to do," you sighed. "I thought I taught them better, but I guess I haven't treated them exactly like soldiers," Ghost hummed behind you, eyes trailing the Alpha.

A shiver ran through you and Ghost pulled you back into him, letting you soak in his own warmth. "Does he always give you problems?" You nodded, letting him take on your weight as you leaned against him.

"There is rarely a day that goes by when he doesn't give some form of lip, but everyone's grown used to it, I guess," you whispered, sighing deeply. It bothered you, so much, that you couldn't get all of your squad to act like it. Like a pack. "He's just trying to take control back. He was kicked from his last squad because of similar problems, speaking down on Betas and Omegas," Ghosts scent changed a little, but you weren't able to decipher what it was before it had disappeared.

Neither of you spoke for some time, merely watching the group of wanna-be's run around and around. You wanted to be back home, with your family and watching the little ones run around, not some grown adults. You just wanted to be able to control the squad like other people, but you needed a break. So you went on leave, but came back too soon.

There wasn't much of choice, though. Either let Soap and Gaz keep getting eaten alive, or you come back and beat them back down, but maybe if you talked to Simon he would've been able to help. No, this was your squad, they were your responsibility. You'd have to be a Drill Sergeant, and it was already giving you a headache.

You pushed off Ghost, watching as one of the Omegas stumbled before righting herself. You gave a deep sigh. "Get over here!" You shouted over the rain and wind. As everyone gathered, you glared through them. "I am not your mother. I shouldn't be coming back from leave early because your senior officers are unable to control you," you huffed, looking away for a moment.

The rain still pattered down, and the Alpha was looking away. You couldn't decipher how you felt about him, but you knew it was heavy dislike. Something about the man made you uncomfortable.

"You'd expect a group of adults to behave better than a group of pups, but I suppose none of you have grown," the Alpha opened his mouth to speak and Ghost took a step forward, daring him to make a comment. "I haven't been treating you as soldiers, clearly, so from now on you'll be meeting up with Task Force 141 to being your morning training," a smile graced your features.

You'd spoken with Price briefly over the phone on your flight back. It didn't take much to convince him, and his tone gave you the chills once or twice as he described what he could do. You didn't mention anything to Ghost. You weren't entirely sure what he would do if he found out you were being dragged away from your family because of a problem child.

Everything was still in the air, what you would end up doing with them. As you gazed across, the only person not having any form of regret was the Alpha. Michael. If you could, you would have rejected him from being a part of your team. You'd read his file, it was nothing short of infraction after infraction.

You gave a deep breath. "You're going to go into the mess hall and clean it, if I come in there tomorrow and find even a crumb you'll be stuck cleaning it every day until you leave," no one moved. "What are you waiting for?" They scattered into the wind, Michael still taking everything at his own speed.

Ghost grabbed his soldier, eyes not leaving the mans. "You'll be with me," and you watched him get dragged away. You were finally free to take a warm shower, perhaps curl into your nest for some sleep you'd lost while traveling.

It was late in the evening when you heard from Simon. He had walked into your room, taking his boots off and crawling next to you in your nest. His balaclava scratched at your neck as he scented you, brushing his cheek against you.

You turned the page in your book, letting the large Alpha nearly curl around you. Your fingers found the top of his head, scratching at him over the balaclava. Yet to see his face, you never pushed it. It was none of your business to push him, even as his mate.

You could hear him chuffing softly, nose digging into your neck slightly. It was quiet for some time, outside of the chuffing of Simon and the pages turning from your book. His hands were around you, tugging you closer to him as your fingers continued scratching.

The chuffing quieted, a bothered grunt coming from him. "Want to feel your hand," he muttered, tugging at his balaclava before being able to pull it off entirely.

You didn't look, didn't move, just kept on reading as your fingers found hair. That made you pause, brows furrowed as you turned to look at him from where he returned to your neck, his chuffs returning.

Purring, you tugged him to look at you, book falling from your hand. Simon groaned softly, trying to pull his head out of your grip. A quiet be still, coming from you before he paused, eyes opening to glance down at you.

Scars littered his face, your fingers finding some of the larger ones to stroke at, trying to memorize every part of his face. You could see his cheeks growing a little red and you laughed softly, pressing your hands to his cheeks.

"Little embarrassed of being looked at so thoroughly?" Simon looked away, finally pulling out of your grip and hiding his face back against your neck. You could feel him lick you slightly, laying down a nip or two, his hands tugging you against him again.

It was a few moments later that either of you finally said anything. "What did you do with Michael?" Simon huffed against you, a quiet who?, coming from him. "The Alpha you pulled away from the rest of the squad," you added.

Simon pulled away to look at you fully. "Nothing illegal," you looked at him, smile dropping. He gave you a little grin. "Just gave him some things to do to get all of his energy out, he had a little too much to be acting that way," you laughed.

The next morning, you had a knock on your office door. "Come in," it wasn't anyone you would've expected. Not Ghost, nor Soap or Gaz. Michael.

He slammed his hands on your desk and leaned over it. "I want out," you raised your brows. "I'm not gonna let some little doctor think she can control me," you gave out a deep sigh. "And what about Ghost? You fuck him to get where you are?"

"My relationship with the Lieutenant is none of your business, soldier," you answered, crossing your legs. "You want out? You leave this squad and it's the last place you'll be. You know you can't join the military again if you get discharged. Too many infractions," you shrugged, pulling his file out of your desk. He looked at it.

Lunging for it, you pulled it out of his reach. "Who the hell gave that to you?" You laughed at him, his scent changing to something reeking of anger. God, why were you able to smell him? "Or, is it because you're an Omega?" He smiled shortly.

You stood. "You haven't been taking your suppressants as prescribed, have you?" There was no other answer for why he was so angry constantly. Without a consistent dosage, the androstenone in him would be too high to think properly. He could go feral.

Lunging for your phone, you were only able to get one number dialed before he threw it into the wall. "A little Omega bitch, fucking Ghost in order to get where she is," he snorted. The door was cracked open still, but Michael was in the way. There was no leaving.

Looking away, you blinked slowly. "I'm assuming this is how you were removed from your last squad," he threw your chair into the wall and you opened the file.

"You have no right to read that, you bitch," he growled, trying to grab it over your desk. You pulled it back, Michael growling deep in his chest. "You're gonna give me that, or I'm gonna fucking kill you," you could feel your heart in your stomach. Sure, you could fight but it was nothing with an almost feral Alpha trying to kill you.

Glancing around, you had to look for something to hopefully protect yourself with. A man like Michael could easily kill you, you didn't doubt it. One wrong punch and you'd be in the infirmary, another and you could be out of it. Forever.

"You touch her and you'll find out why I'm feared," Simon. You could feel the relief coursing through you. He wouldn't let anything happen to you, let alone allow another Alpha to hurt you. You looked between the two, seeing Michaels face slowly start to drop.

You dove under your desk the second either of them moved, a growl ripping through the area as you heard a body slam into the wall in front of you. You knew the fear on your scent would be pungent, especially to Ghost.

And it was. He could smell it from down the hall, causing a spark of fear to course through himself. The only other thing he could smell was another Alpha, and he hoped to god he wouldn't be too late. When he opened the door just a tad bit more, he heard the threats.

It set something off in him that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. He didn't hesitate before throwing the other Alpha into the wall, seeing you dive under your desk in his peripheral. His fists found the man, but it barely did anything. A feral Alpha would do anything to kill whoever he saw, and Ghost could hear shouts coming from the hall.

Michael charged at Ghost, who braced for impact, colliding with him and being dragged into the hall and on the wall across from your office. Ghosts knee found Michael gut, throwing him onto the ground and climbing over him.

Some MP's had come careening down the hall, guns up and shouting commands. Ghost tried holding the man down, but it didn't do too much before he was bucked off and climbing to his feet. The fear was still pungent on your scent and it set Ghost off.

He couldn't do anything before gunshots echoed down the hall and Michael collapsed. A few tranq darts scattered along his back.

Ghost was put on administrative leave, pending investigation. You'd used the rest of your leave to be able to stay with him and for the entire duration you weren't out of his eyesight.

Showering? He was standing against the far wall, staring through the doorway.

Trying to use the bathroom? The locks on your bathroom doors had never been used more, and when you left he would be standing in front of it.

For some time you had also been far to shaken to let Simon leave your eyesight. There was nothing he would do that you weren't following him for, his showers left you sitting on the counter and talking to him, even without a response. You didn't go into the bathroom with him, but sat by the door as your eyes flittered around to each corner of the room, looking for feral Alphas.

Before either of you became more comfortable, Simon wouldn't even go into your nest. He would sit outside of it, never moving much at all. It took you panicking in the middle of the night for him to start going back inside of your nest.

Neither of you knew what the future would look like, but as long as you had each other, you figured you'd be alright.

Next

[softgh0stbites]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆Moonlight and Ruin

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Rating: NSFW 18+

Tags: cunnilingus f!recieving fingering public sex

Pairing: Vincent Valentine x Reader

Summary: After another month of pining and coming to terms with the fact that he will always be the one to hurt you, Vincent decides to slip a note under your pillow and escape in the night. He would get his revenge alone and then close himself off from the world as he originally planned. You find him twisting the ideas around in his mind as if he wants you to catch him. Read these for context as it's a part of a miny series: Where Desire Slumbers, A Dawn's Resolve, Eclipsed affections.

Notes: A little messy, but I wanted to give you a ramble I've had for a while about the first sexual experience between Vincent and our beloved indulgent reader. I'm not sure if I wrote him correctly, and I know I flipped through the povs back and forth. If you want a music recommendation, I listened to Cherry by Lana Del Ray and Cry by Cigarettes After Sex while writing this. Thank you for all your support!

re: edit there were so many typos and rushed sentences with no punctuation so I rewrote practically everything. I had my friend proof read it this time ;w; i've spent another 12 hours on this, nothing has changed just sentences are broken up better and not stacked like giant texts of the bible since someone said it was hard to read that way for them. Sorry about that!

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The night stretches vast and endless above, its stars pulsing in quiet rhythm—dancing without ever moving. A crisp autumn breeze stirs your hair, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and the distant hush of a sleeping town. Your bare feet patter against the cobblestone, each step pressing into the rough, cool stone, a silent reminder that you could turn back and slip beneath your cold sheets and pretend this restlessness never stirred you.

But you don’t.

You don’t know why you thought you’d find him here, beneath the waning moon, in the hush of a world on the edge of dreaming. The streetlamps flicker, their glow dimming to a somber amber, no longer fighting the darkness. You had rushed from the inn the moment you woke, a strange unease settling deep in your bones, as if something was slipping through your fingers, something you weren’t meant to miss.

The note in your hand is a crumpled mess; creased, smoothed out, then tortured all over again beneath restless fingers. Frustration coils in your chest, your thoughts seesawing between the hollow comfort of ignorance and the sharp bite of truth. You grit your teeth, biting your tongue so hard that the taste of copper lingers on your lips.

The ink, scrawled in a hand too familiar, cuts deeper than the jagged cracks of the cement beneath you. No matter how many times you crush the paper in your grip, the words refuse to disappear.

This is where I belong. Forget me.

Your teeth clench, tension locking your jaw as your eyes sting, heavy with unfallen tears. As you walk toward the back of the inn where you and the party stayed, his shadow appears before his form fully emerges beneath the moon’s glow.

He sits on the fountain steps, head tilted back, staring at the stars.

Cool grass cushions your bare feet, each blade brushing against your skin, gentle but insistent, as if urging you forward. You already know he heard you long before you rounded the corner. By the time you step into view, his gaze is already on you. His eyes tighten slightly, not quite surprised, but in recognition.

Your tongue felt heavy, thick with words you weren’t sure how to say. After everything that had passed between you, the silence felt heavier than ever.

You had built something with him. It was something quiet, something unspoken. Nights spent on watch together beneath these very stars had fostered a closeness that needed no words. Your conversations were held in glances, intimate, in the way his shoulder would shift just slightly, inviting you to rest against him. A slow blink of his eyes was permission to inch closer, to let the space between you shrink.

You had thought, maybe, you were growing close. Maybe, you understood him in ways others didn’t.

Vincent was like a cat in some ways, distant yet watchful, his presence steady but reserved. Yet when he let you in, he did so completely. It was in his gaze, the way it softened with vulnerability at times when he looked at you, the quiet warmth that lived there despite his guarded nature. And in those moments, when his walls lowered just enough for you to see inside, you found it hard to breathe.

The thought of these moments slipping away was unraveling your patience, dissolving the restraint you had clung to for so long. How many times had you wanted to pull him down to you, his sharp features inches from yours—clumsily, perhaps, but with a longing that would speak for itself in the hurried whispers of your lips? How often had you imagined holding him beneath the warmth of the sun, grasping his hand mid-mission as you wandered through deserts, forests, towns…?

He was everything you wanted, and you had laid it before him, clear as water. He may have been the one who locked himself away for thirty years, but you were the one left parched, thirsting for even the gentlest reminder of his touch. Your pulse had never forgotten. It still beat with the memory of that evening on the beach, the way he had held you close—closer than he ever had before, closer than he ever had since. He hadn't touched you that way again, but he never truly pushed you away either.

Yet you knew.

There was something he wouldn’t tell you, something heavy, something awful that kept him trapped in his silence. It lingered in his distance, in the way he lost himself in thought. And though he never said a word, his gaze always betrayed him—longing for something, for someone he couldn’t find in you.

You remember the first time you caught him fiddling with the brooch. A simple piece—white gold wrapped delicately around a worn moonstone, dulled by time and wear. His clawed fingers turned it over absently, tracing the edges as if smoothing away the years. It looked fragile in his grip, yet something about the way he held it told you it wasn’t.

Without thinking, you motioned for him to follow. He raised an eyebrow at you, his expression unreadable but clearly questioning your intent. What business did you have leading him toward the storage closet? The realization of what it must have looked like struck you immediately, heat creeping up your neck as you fumbled with the door and yanked him inside by the edge of his cloak.

If he had wanted to resist, he could have. He was immeasurably stronger than you, yet he let you maneuver him without so much as a word. That alone made your stomach twist, warmth pooling somewhere in your chest.

"Vin, light, please." Your voice was steady, but in the darkness, you were grateful he couldn’t see the way your eyes traced his silhouette.

You couldn’t make out much, but the broad curve of his hips as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other was etched into your memory.

A quiet hum of acknowledgment rumbled from him before he reached for the dangling cord, tugging it down with an effortless flick of his wrist. A dim yellow glow flickered to life, painting the small space in soft, wavering light. Shadows stretched along the walls, wrapping around the two of you like something almost tangible.

You held out your hand expectantly.

Vincent hesitated for a fraction of a second before wordlessly dropping the brooch into your palm. His crimson eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place—mild curiosity, perhaps, or maybe something softer. He watched in silence as you rummaged through a nearby box, fingers brushing past cold metal and glass vials until you found what you were looking for. You’d spent enough nights helping Cid polish rusted parts that you could find the right solutions in the dark.

With a quiet exhale, you pushed a few boxes aside, clearing a space just big enough for the two of you to sit. The closet was small, too small, and yet Vincent settled across from you without a word.

Your legs brushed first—just the lightest graze of your foot against his leather-clad calf. He didn’t move away. His other knee bent, resting just beside yours, framing you in a way that made your breath hitch.

Still, neither of you spoke.

Instead, Vincent watched, gaze intent, as your pale fingers soaked the cloth in the strong-smelling liquid. It was an unspoken challenge—one you knew he would intervene in the moment he thought you were being careless. His silent scrutiny was its own form of protection, his way of being present without interfering.

You gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll be gentle, promise."

His brows furrowed slightly. He didn’t understand—of course he didn’t.

With an exasperated sigh, you reached forward and took his hand, carefully wrapping his gloved pinky around yours. His fingers twitched slightly at the contact, but he didn’t pull away. Then, pressing your thumbs together, you held the lock.

"This is a promise, locked, okay?" You grinned at him. "Vincent, if you didn’t look so young, I’d swear you were sixty-eight."

For a moment, there was nothing. Then, a sound deep, low, and soft. A quiet, half-chuckle, barely there but unmistakable. The warmth of it settled deep in your ribs, spreading through your chest like firelight on cold hands.

The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the evening, tucked away in the maintenance closet, breaths nearly mingling in the close air. You worked the polish over the brooch until your fingers ached, the dull gold brightening beneath your touch. It would never be perfect—the scratches were too deep, the years too long—but when you held it up to the light, the stone gleamed once more.

That was when you noticed it.

A faint engraving on the back, previously hidden beneath the tarnish. Your eyes traced the delicate etching, lips parting before you even realized you were speaking.

"Lucrecia Crescent."

The name slipped past your lips in a whisper, barely more than breath.

Across from you, Vincent inhaled sharply.

You looked up just in time to catch the shift in his expression. His face didn’t change much, but you could see it in his eyes—the flicker of something raw, something fragile, before he carefully schooled his features once more. He reached forward, fingers steady but slow, and plucked the brooch from your hands.

Without a word, he tucked it back beneath his garments, hiding it away.

His gaze met yours, and for the first time that night, you saw something there. Uncertainty. Worry. Maybe even fear.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I won’t ask."

Vincent’s eyes flickered, searching your face. Whatever he found there, it must have eased him, because his shoulders relaxed just slightly.

"Thank you."

It felt like he was thanking you for more than just your silence.

When you finally stood to leave, you nearly tripped over the boxes you had pushed aside, your foot catching on something behind you. Vincent’s hands found your hips, steadying you before you could collide with his chest. The heat of his touch, even through the fabric, sent a shiver up your spine.

Your face burned.

Without another word, you stumbled out of the closet and down the hall, the sound of Vincent’s measured steps following close behind. The faint click of his boots against the floor was the only proof that any of it had happened at all.

The cool night air pulled you from your thoughts, but the embers of your anger only burned brighter when you noticed his hands fiddling with the same brooch. His fingers ghosted over the edges, as if testing the worn metal, as if weighing its significance all over again.

Your grip tightened around the paper in your palm, the crumpled note that had shattered the fragile quiet between you. He must have heard the rustle, because his shoulders rose with a deep, weary sigh.

You took a step closer. Then another.

Your emotions, always uncontainable, spilled over as your eyes blurred with tears. You had never been good at swallowing them back, not like he was. You felt everything too much, too fast, too completely. It overwhelmed you, made you ache in ways you didn’t know how to temper.

"Why?"

The word trembled from your lips, barely holding its shape. Your fingers clenched around the note like it was your last tether to him, like if you let it go, he’d disappear entirely.

Vincent’s expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way his gaze softened, a flicker of something regretful. He hadn’t wanted you to find the note so soon. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to leave it at all. He watched you, eyes catching the tear-streaked path down your cheek, but he didn’t move from where he stood.

"I'll always hurt you. There's no life to be had with me."

His voice carried over the space between you, rough and quiet, like he had already convinced himself of the truth in those words.

You could see it now, the things he wouldn’t say aloud. He would never give you children, maybe he was incapable of it, maybe he simply wouldn’t try. He didn’t have the heart to offer you a peaceful life, not the kind you deserved. He wasn’t going to settle down in some quiet town, wasn’t going to live in a house with a white picket fence.

He wasn't allowed.

The atonement was the only thing that made sense to him anymore. The blood, the fight, the ache, it was the only thing that stopped his mind from spiraling into a cacophony of cruel voices.

Your chest heaved as your grip on the note loosened. It fell, fluttering to the grass.

"And you get to make that choice on your own?"

Your voice cracked, but it didn’t break. The fury burning in your chest held it together.

"What about what I want?"

Vincent stiffened at the force of your words, his crimson gaze flickering with something new. It wasn't just sorrow, but surprise. He had expected your grief, your resignation, maybe even your regret. He hadn’t expected your fire, the way your anger crackled in the air between you.

You took another step forward, closing the distance. Heat radiated off your skin, a stark contrast to his own cold resolve.

Vincent barely had time to process it before you were towering over him, for once. He had to tip his head back slightly as you climbed the stairs above him, your form framed against the dim glow of the streetlamps.

His breath caught just slightly.

Your legs were bare, skin kissed by the soft golden light, and though he knew this wasn’t the time, his gaze betrayed him. It always did.

His eyes traced the line of your figure before snapping back to your face, catching the sharp rise and fall of your chest. The frustration rolling off you was palpable, and yet—

You were stunning.

You had always been stunning.

And that made all of this so much harder.

"Don't," he said, voice low, a warning that carried more weight than anger. The sound reverberated through him, steady but frayed at the edges.

But you didn’t stop.

"No, you don’t!" Your voice wavered as you scrubbed at your eyes, hands trembling against your cheeks. "I don’t care if you leave sometimes… but you can’t leave forever. Don’t go where I can’t follow."

Your breath came quick and uneven as you searched his face, hoping—pleading—to find even a small fracture in his cold resolve.

For a moment, something flickered in his gaze. A hesitation, barely there.

Then, as if retreating into himself, Vincent lowered his eyes to the brooch in his hand. His fingers brushed over it again and again, tracing the engraving as if memorizing something he had long since committed to heart. It was a habit, a ritual, one he repeated so often that you wondered if he even realized he was doing it.

"Precious things always wilt in my grasp," he murmured. "You're no different."

The words carried the weight of inevitability, as if he had already mourned you before you were even gone. As if he believed time itself would erode whatever it was you shared, leaving nothing but another memory to haunt him.

You swallowed hard. "That’s not true."

But he didn’t answer.

"I meant what I said. Forget about me." His voice was quieter now, but the certainty in it stung worse than if he had shouted. He glanced at you once, almost like he was bracing for the impact of his own words. Then his gaze broke away, darting to the ground, the fountain, anywhere but you.

Before you could move, before you could reach for him, Vincent stood. His movements were fluid, practiced, pushing you aside without effort but without force.

Then, without ceremony, he tossed the brooch into the fountain.

The sound of it hitting the water was small but sharp, sending ripples across the surface. The splash jolted through you, your breath catching as though the cold had touched your skin instead.

Vincent turned before the last ripple had even faded.

Without looking back, he stepped down from the stone ledge, cloak sweeping behind him as he descended onto solid ground. His walk was smooth, almost too composed, but there was something about the way his coat billowed behind him that felt final.

He was heading toward the treeline.

The woods would be an inconvenient pass, dense and uneven. But that was the point. In your state—bare legs, thin clothing—you wouldn’t be able to follow.

Vincent knew if he turned, if he saw the tear-streaked devastation on your face, his resolve might crack. His jaw tightened as he forced himself forward, steps slow but unwavering.

"Vincent Valentine, you absolute… i-idiot!"

Your voice rang out behind him, raw and trembling, cutting through the night like a blade. His stride faltered. The rustling of fabric followed, and instinctively, he turned his head—expecting to see you running after him, desperate for one final plea.

But what he saw instead made his breath catch.

You stood beneath the moonlight, lifting your shirt over your head, your hair catching in the neckline before you yanked it free. Then, with swift, determined fingers, you hooked into the waist of your shorts and pushed them down. Vincent's chest seized.

His gaze dragged over you before he could stop himself, taking in the sight of your bare legs, the way your linen chemise clung to your form. It was shorter than he imagined- shorter than in the fantasies he tried to convince himself weren't that indulgent.

His throat tightened, but the moment your teary eyes pierced into him, his gaze snapped up. You wiped at your face, your expression hardened, then turned away.

Without another word, you stepped into the fountain.

Vincent remained frozen, his mind struggling to catch up with your actions. You didn’t hesitate. You slipped beneath the water's surface, vanishing in an instant.

His stomach dropped.

His breath quickened as he strode forward, steps quick and heavy, his chest rising and falling harder than before. But just as he neared the edge, you emerged, breaking the surface in a rush of air and droplets.

The moment stilled and he would keep it in his memory until the day he drew one last taste of air.

You hoisted yourself up onto the stone steps, water cascading down your body in gleaming rivulets. Vincent stopped in his tracks. He could barely breathe.

You were soaked through.

Your white chemise clung obscenely to your skin, transparent where it lay flush against you. Your heaving chest, your rose-tipped nipples peeking through damp fabric, the water trailing over the delicate lines of your ribs, your stomach, pooling down the curve of your thighs—

Exquisite.

Vincent couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. His hunger hit him like a sudden storm, curling in his gut, thick and heavy, so tangible it ached. It pulsed in his throat, in his hands, in the places he had forced himself to ignore for too long.

Because hell, how long had he denied this?

How many nights had he stood under cold running water, his palm wrapped around himself, teeth gritted, your face filling the spaces in his mind? How many times had he swallowed down the need, convinced himself that this desire was something he could control?

But now, standing before you like this, seeing the heat in your eyes, the way you clutched the brooch against your chest—

He was starving.

And you were divine.

Your nipples, so often imagined in his mind, now stood in stark reality beneath his gaze, peeking shyly through the damp, clinging linen. His breath caught, his chest rising too fast, too sharp.

Your face was flushed, burning beneath the weight of his stare. Your arm moved instinctively to shield yourself, but even then, you lifted your chin in defiance. As if daring him to look. As if testing his restraint.

He could feel it, the slow, inexorable crumble of the walls he had spent decades fortifying. Self-restraint be damned. He had spent too long denying himself, denying you.

If you wanted to use him, then let it be so. His body, this body that had felt too much pain, too much weight, too many scars of the past was yours if you wished to take it. He had been a fool to pretend otherwise, a coward for running from the inevitable.

Selfish. Greedy. Unworthy.

He would let himself be all of those things for you even if it tore open old wounds.

He feared how willing he was how, if you asked it, he would pluck the moon from the sky and place it in your hands. If you whispered for vengeance, he would spill blood at your feet. If you asked for a crown, he would slay angels to bring you their feathers.

If anyone dared lay a hand on you in malice, he would tear out their throat with his teeth. He would only stop if you commanded it. Almost akin to ordering a hound.

The last time he had felt this, he had lost everything. He had watched the woman he loved die, had let it happen. He had told himself, never again. He didn’t deserve to feel this way again. And yet, here you were, undoing him with kindness.

A slow, creeping, aching torture that seeped into his very marrow, turning him starved and desperate. It was scary how you could undo him so easily with your words, your temper, your body.

As if entranced, Vincent moved.

He climbed the steps, slow and deliberate, his crimson eyes locked onto yours. When he reached you, his hand lifted, fingers curling firmly but gently around your wrist.

You tensed, your breath hitching as he pulled your arm away from your chest, no longer letting you hide. But he didn’t just look—he sheltered you with the bulk of his body blocking the cool night air from touching your skin.

Your cheeks flushed deeper, a small, startled sound escaping you. A protest? A plea?

Vincent brought your wrist to his mouth, his lips brushing against the damp skin, soft and reverent. The heat of his breath sent a shiver through you, the contrast between warmth and the cool air almost dizzying.

He kissed his way down the delicate line of your arm, slow and thorough, as if apologizing for every unspoken word, every wound he had left on your heart.

Your breath stilled as he lingered at your wrist. His tongue flicked out, warm and teasing, tasting the beads of water clinging to your skin.

And in that moment, as he devoured you with his eyes, you realized,

You would let him get away with anything.

If only he kept looking at you like that, like you were his.

Only his.

"You can't just leave her b-behind," you stammered, your voice unsteady, both from nerves and the biting chill that Vincent's cloak could only shield so much. "You can leave me behind, but don't... don't leave her when she's so important to you." The last words stuck in your throat, thick with something unnamed.

A tear slipped down your cheek as your gaze dropped to his chest. You couldn’t meet his eyes anymore, couldn’t let him see the jealousy, the insecurity gnawing at you. You knew—this woman, the one his jewelry belonged to, he must have adored her. You had spent so many nights watching him stroke the space to the left of his heart, fingers brushing over the hidden keepsake, as if reassuring himself that it was still there.

You wanted to be the one who grounded him. You wanted to pull him from the tides of self-inflicted guilt, to anchor him here, with you. But if it was her memory that kept him whole, even in the smallest way, who were you to compare?

Even as your thoughts tangled, Vincent pressed forward, his steps deliberate, urging you back. The cold kiss of water met your skin before you realized it, your feet sinking into the fountain, the surface rippling up to your hips as he followed. He didn’t stop until your back met the cool stone of the sculpture, the carved woman standing behind you, her vase endlessly pouring water in the opposite direction, as if turning away from the two of you.

The lily pads and algae drifted apart around your bodies, disturbed by movement, a quiet acknowledgment of change.

A soft click echoed through the air. Then a splash.

Vincent's gauntlet hit the water, sinking beneath the surface, ripples stretching outward.

"She's a ghost," he murmured, his voice like velvet unraveling. There was no hesitation, no retreat—just him sinking to his knees before you, his hands settling at your hips, fingers warm against your skin.

Your breath caught.

"But—"

"You'll ruin me." His voice was raw, breaking at the edges, his hand tightening in the fabric of your soaked chemise. "Fuck—"clearly lost in how close you were, disregarding your concern of his past unrequited love.

It was the first time you had heard him swear. The way the word left his lips, a rasp dripping with want, sent a shiver down your spine. He was unraveling because of you. His fingers tangled in the wet fabric at your thighs, gripping it like he needed something to cling to, like you were the only thing holding him in place.

Your heart pounded, legs trembling as his hands traced over the pale expanse of your skin, slow, reverent. He knelt there, worshipping you with his touch, his mouth hovering just above your navel, the heat of his breath making your skin prickle.

You clutched the brooch so tightly that the metal bit into your palm.

"Stay," you whispered, pleaded, demanded, prayed. Your fingers tangled into his hair, gripping, pulling, needing.

Something in him fractured.

Vincent shrugged off his cloak in a single movement, tossing it over the fountain’s edge. The moonlight traced along the sharp lines of his shoulders, his chest narrowing into the water’s depths, his throat exposed to you. His lips parted slightly, his breath uneven. He was yours to observe, yours to claim.

And he let you.

All thoughts of leaving seemed to dissolve from his mind, because his grip on your waist tightened, his arms drawing you to him as he buried his face against your stomach. Your hands fisted in his hair as his lips pressed against the soaked fabric, mouth feverish, hungry. His teeth scraped against the linen, tugging, tasting. Desperate.

"Vincent—" you whined, but your hands still pulled him closer, fingers twisting in his hair as his gloved hands continued their slow exploration of your legs.

Anyone could step outside. The back garden only hid so much. But the thought of it—the risk—only made your pulse race faster.

Vincent pulled away from tracing the soft planes of your stomach, his breath warm against your skin. "If that's what you want… I won't try again."

"Promise," you whispered, though even you weren’t sure if you meant it.

His hand came up to yours, gently prying the brooch from your fingers and setting it onto the lip of the fountain’s edge. Then he used his teeth to tug off his glove, revealing the pale skin beneath, almost translucent barely luminescent under the moons light, veins faintly visible beneath the surface.

When he interlaced his bare fingers with yours, slowly and intentionally.

"I promise," he murmured. His crimson gaze flicked up to yours, then back down to where your hands fit together. His grip tightened at your hip, his voice rough with need. "I need you… need to worship you. But if you don’t want this—any of it—I’ll stop."

The certainty in his voice eased the tension in your body, but the heat in his eyes left you trembling, your arousal slick between your thighs, mixing with the water.

You nodded, breathless, then gave him the words too. "I won’t tell you to stop."

Vincent exhaled, something like relief slipping past his lips as his grip shifted. Your fingers tangled deeper into his raven hair, steadying you.

"We’ll see," he murmured, his breath ghosting over the inside of your thigh. His lips found purchase just above your knee, his bare hand sliding along your calf, lifting it from the water, resting it over his shoulder to expose you where he needed you. You were already soaked from water, but there was a lingering dark path along your lavender panties that made his throat tighten. Your toes barely grazed his back, and as he sank lower, his mouth following the path of his hands.

You shivered, sinking further into him, his hands trembling over your form, into this

Your stomach dropped. He was insatiable.

Vincent’s slender fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down with deliberate ease even reaching behind his head to pull it down over your foot. Dusky lavender, he had complimented the color on you once before when you wore a similar sweater.

He wasn’t a man of many words, but his mouth was far from inexperienced. He knew exactly where to graze his teeth, where to savor the tremble in your breath. The ends of his fingers coaxed your hips to relax, guiding you toward the warmth of his breath. Every exhale that ghosted against your skin was followed by lips and tongue feverishly tasting your body.

When he finally settled between your thighs, his gaze flicked up, inky lashes framing eyes that burned into you.

That look alone could ruin you. You realized in this moment you would never deny him and he would never deny you.

You surrendered completely, already pleading.

"Vincent… please… hah… no teasing."

Your neediness didn’t go unnoticed. His mouth descended, tongue sliding through your folds, savoring the taste of you with an approving hum. He licked into you languidly, as if he had been starving for you, ready to drown in your release.

His fingers dug into your hips, sure to leave bruises, anchoring you to him. You didn’t want him to let up. Your hips rocked into his mouth, your leg bouncing against his shoulder, toes curling every time he sucked your swollen clit into the heat of his mouth before letting it go with a soft pop.

The contrast of the cool water against his feverish tongue sent shocks through your core. Your release was already building—too fast, too much.

You weren’t a virgin, far from it. You had been with men who promised, I’ll make it up to you next time, as they left you aching, unfulfilled. You had never asked for this before. You hadn’t thought a man would want it, would yearn so badly for a taste of you.

But here, beneath the vast expanse of stars, you understood pleasure. And the man giving it to you would never leave you wanting.

His tongue circled your entrance, your name tumbling from your lips in gasps. His fingers massaged your thighs, slow, teasing. He was bringing you back out of the throws of your mind, into the moment with him. You wanted them inside, needed him to fill you as you were clenching around nothing, empty.

"Vin… I… I need it…" You whimpered, grinding into his chin, shameless in your desperation.

He groaned against your skin. "Anything. Tell me."

His voice was heavy, thick with need. He had dreamed of hearing you like this of you begging for him. He shuddered when your fingers tugged at his hair again, his scalp stinging, but he loved it.

"Your fingers…" you murmured, shyly. So cute.

His lips twitched, a ghost of a smirk playing there before he dipped his head back down, teasing your entrance with his tongue as his fingers traced over your slick folds. He wasn’t in a rush, he wanted to savor the way your body responded to him maybe commit it to memory for when he was alone with his thoughts.

When he finally sank a single finger inside, your world tilted. The stars above seemed closer, or maybe it was just the way he was pulling you apart. He worked you open slowly, despite your eager pleas for more. Another digit slipped in, curling, pressing into that spot that made your whole body jolt. He was so deliberate with the scissoring motion inside, brushing against your walls so well. You'd thank whoever got him into working with guns, because fuck was that trigger finger absolutely wrecking you at this moment.

His lips latched onto your clit again, tongue circling so thoroughly, so expertly that your slick coated his hand, your thigh trembling on one side of his head.

Your breaths grew heavier, muscles clenching around his fingers. Your mouth parted, curses spilling freely as you tried to muffle your cries behind your wrist. You had waited months for this—for him to touch you like this—and now you were falling apart too fast.

Vincent groaned at the sound of your pleasure, the need in your voice. He needed more of it, more of you. It took everything in him not to let you remove his belts with that look in your eyes, as if you were already fucking him in your mind.

"Bite me," you gasped. "Please, please—ah—" You requested so insistently as you caught a glimpse of those sharp teeth hiding behind his perfect lips. Your hands fisted in his hair, urging him closer. Tears pricked your eyes, overwhelmed by how good he was making you feel, how completely he was consuming you.

How could he deny you?

A low growl rumbled from his chest. His mouth found your hip, lips parting wide before his teeth sank into the soft flesh above the bone. His fingers thrust deeper, curling, twisting, fucking you open as you pulsed and clenched around him. His bite was firm, not enough to break skin, but enough to make you shudder. His tongue soothed the mark after, sucking at it as if imprinting himself onto you.

You keened, pleading for more, and he obeyed.

He trailed bite after bite, leaving bruises across your hip, up your stomach, his lips pressing reverent kisses over each one. He lingered just beneath your breast, hungry and fevered, his body rising with yours as he pushed up onto his knees. You tilted your chest into him, offering yourself.

Vincent's hands trembled as they slid over your curves, cupping your breast, kneading, pinching. His mouth found the stiff peak of your nipple, pulling it taut between his lips, tongue flicking as he moaned against you.

You tasted like rainwater and coconut balm.

His fingers teased your other breast, rolling it between his leather clad hand. Each gasp, each moan, each sweet, desperate sound made his pulse pound harder, his cock straining against the soaked leather of his pants.

"I'm gonna… don't stop… so good… your mouth—mmh."

Your words were a drug. He groaned against your skin, hips jerking involuntarily with nothing to grind into. He wouldn’t touch himself, not yet, not when he had you falling apart in his hands.

He wanted this moment. He wanted to feel you come undone.

With a trail of kisses to your navel, he whispered, "Let go for me."

His fingers plunged deeper, fucking into you at the rhythm of your pulse, coaxing you higher, higher—until you shattered.

Your climax crashed over you, your hips rocking erratically as his name tore from your throat. Your trembling hands muffled your cries, teeth biting into your wrist to keep yourself from screaming.

Vincent didn’t stop—wouldn’t stop—until your body was completely spent, your slick coating his fingers, dripping into the water. Only then did he slow, guiding you down, letting you ride out your release on his hand. His lips pressed one last kiss against your arousal, letting his tongue taste his reward with a moan. He lapped you up, stroking a broad stripe of his tongue across your folds. You tasted absolutely delicious, his favorite kind of bitter and sweet.

Gently he lowered your leg letting you settle against him. A dull ache formed between your hips, but the way Vincent touched you now which was so soft, so sweet, made it feel like nothing at all. He kissed up your stomach, up your ribs, up the bruising havoc he had left behind. A part of him was satisfied, but the rational part of him was disappointed in his lack of self restraint. Your hands slipped from his hair, fingers framing his face as he lifted himself to meet your gaze. His chin and mouth were glistening from your slick, like you marked him too. His dark crimson eyes burning with a lot of different emotions. Fear, lust, longing, relief, shame- but most of all-

Devoted. Utterly, irrevocably devoted to you.

"Thank you," You whispered, hoping he would understand you meant for more than bringing you to the pearly gates of heaven itself.

Your fingers slid beneath his jaw, brushing the tip of his ear as you cupped his face. Your breath hitched as you watched him lick your arousal from his lips, from his fingers, methodical and unbothered by shyness. His flushed face, his lidded gaze, he was wrecked, but he still looked at you like he wanted more.

That gave you the in you needed. You leaned in, and so did he, your lips meeting in a slow, tender kiss. You guided the kiss, parting and pressing your lips together again, tasting the salt and musk of yourself on his tongue as you licked inside his mouth. He let you explore, his hands settling at your lower back, thumbs rubbing slow circles into your muscles as you sighed into him. He was so tall compared to you even on his knees and it sent a thrill down your spine. His hands could splay easily around your waist, hips, back. You felt coveted.

His lips were everything you had imagined—soft, warm, chapped in places but perfect between your teeth. When his own scraped against your tongue, a new spark ignited in your veins, rekindling your excitement. You pushed impossibly closer, hardened nipples grazing the leather of his chest, hips pressing against his, his erection prominent beneath the layers of clothing and belts.

You wanted to drop to your knees, to worship him too. But his hands held you firm. He wasn’t letting you move an inch.

You didn’t know who pulled away first for breath, only that as he rose to his feet, you clung to him, a sudden fear creeping in, a fear that he would forget your newfound promise.

But instead, Vincent knocked your legs out from under you with his forearm, catching you effortlessly against his chest. Your arms tightened around his shoulders, the water sloshing at his knees as he carried you toward the edge of the fountain.

"I didn’t give you anything," you murmured, your pout betraying your worry. You didn’t want this to be one-sided. You didn’t want to use him.

He barely paused as he stepped out of the water, carrying you with ease. "It’s fine," he murmured. "You’ve given enough."

There was a hesitation, barely a flicker, before his lips pressed softly to your head. You felt him inhale deeply before straightening again, adjusting you in his hold as he reached out, slinging his wet cloak over his shoulder.

The brooch lay on the stone’s edge, caught between his fingers. For a moment, he looked at it, as if debating whether to toss it back into the water—or keep it.

You answered the question in his eyes with a soft smile. Your hand moved to his, fingers curling over his where they held the brooch, and you clenched his fingers around it.

It was enough.

He could remember his past love. Remember who he was. You would never ask him to give that up. It made him the man you desired right now. You knew, in some way, that you could accept this ghost of his past. And you wouldn’t let a memory stop you from your pursuit of his heart.

As he carried you back toward the inn, you asked again, just needing to hear it one more time.

"You’ll stay… right?"

Vincent’s voice was velvet, rich in your ears. "I’ll stay."

In the stretching silence save for the sound of his walk and wet leather, you decided to say what you needed to while you still had a strum of bravado in you.

"I like you," you blurted out, chest tightening the moment the words left your mouth.

Vincent’s lips quirked into that charming, maddening half-smile.

"Oh?" His skin flushed at your admission, but instead of answering right away, he brushed a strand of hair from your cheek, an affectionate, unhurried gesture. He didn’t know if he was ready to name the feeling in his chest, but he could accept yours. Slowly if you would put up with it.

"You make it very clear—"

Your mouth fell open. He was teasing you.

Heat flared across your face, even down your neck. Had he noticed? The way you grumbled every time other women giggled at the mere sight of him? The way your eyes lingered when he walked past, hips swaying just enough to drive you crazy?

"I-I do not…" you tried to refute, but he only laughed. A soft, low sound that sent warmth straight through you.

"Mm." He pretended to agree, setting you down gently as you reached the front entrance of the inn. You were chilled to the bone, your body still sticky, exhaustion settling in from the night’s activities. Vincent looked entirely too smug as you wobbled slightly on your feet, and before you could recover, he pushed the door open.

The pub was quiet, lit only by a single candle on the bar. No one awake except for Cid, hunched over with a bottle in hand.

You immediately wanted to run past in embarrassment, pressing closer to Vincent. How were you going to hide your practically naked form?

He sighed, fingers lacing with yours as he pulled you behind him to give you some shred of decency, already dreading Cid’s brashness. But luck wasn’t on your side. The old man turned, grinning far too wide the moment he saw you both.

"Finally put an end to your lovers’ quarrel, huh?" Cid hooted, lifting his bottle. "’Bout damn time! Tired of watchin’ you two eye-fuck each other across the damn plane."

You buried your burning face against the middle of Vincent’s back with a groan.

"And it’s bad enough with those three," he jerked a thumb toward the hallway and set of stairs, letting out a loud laugh implying that you were as bad as Cloud, Tifa, and Aerith. That trifecta was incredibly entertaining, but annoying to witness at the same time.

Vincent sighed again, long and suffering, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles in warning before pulling you past the drunkard and toward the stairs trying to cover you but it was hard without the bulk of his cloak around him. He was quite a slender man towards his waist and hips, not quite built like a soldier, but rather like a turk. All lean and sinewy for quick attacks.

"Don’t forget, these walls are real thin!" Cid hollered after you with a chortle.

Vincent didn’t stop, dragging you down the hall before the embarrassment could suffocate you. You had never been more grateful for the quiet of the upstairs corridor. Four doors lined the hallway. Yours was at the very end, and Vincent’s which you were standing in front of it now. He had never willed himself to knock on your door before. Not even when he had slipped that note beneath your pillow in the dead of night. It still annoyed him that you never locked it, who were you hoping to meet in there? Was it him?

"I’m so tired," you mumbled, nudging his door open before he could suggest otherwise. "I’ll berate that bastard tomorrow."

The door clicked shut behind the both of you, and before he could process the moment, you were stripping. His eyes tracked the movement, the flex of your muscles as you worked the soaked fabric over your head.

Heat flared low in his stomach. Hard again. Behamaut save him.

Images flickered through his mind in rapid succession, your face pressed into his pillows, your lips wrapped around him, your hands gripping his hips as he took you for the first time in languid strokes. Your tongues exploring each other, his hands guiding your hips astride him, your fingers controlling his hair as his mouth performed his prayer...

His restraint wavered, were his knees about to become familiar with every inn floor in the future? A new religion blossoming between the apex of your thighs.

You snapped him out of it with a simple, innocent question. "Do you have anything I can wear?" your arms covering across your chest.

Vincent cleared his throat, shaking off the fantasy.

"Uh." He coughed, lowering his chin slightly, an old habit from when he could hide behind his crimson cowl. Right. Clothes.

He turned away, rummaging through his drawer until he found a tight compression shirt and a pair of his usual black briefs. Tossing them in your direction, he didn’t miss the mischievous smirk playing on your lips when you motioned for him to turn around with a twirl of your finger.

He complied.

The shuffling of fabric behind him tested his patience, especially when your scent lingered in the air, still warm, still intoxicating. He just busied his hands on hanging his wet cloak up on the dresser, hopefully by tomorrow it would dry out.

Then, your hands slid around his waist.

"You should change too," you murmured, lips pressing against the damp leather of his shoulder. Vincent turned to face you, tilting your chin up.

The air between you thickened. His greedy mouth claimed yours again, unable to help himself, hands trailing down your back. The compression shirt he had given you hung low at your hips, but it was tight at your chest, the fabric stretching where your breasts filled it out. He was definitely still a man underneath all of his armor.

You gasped his name, pressing into him, and he was unraveling all over again. His self-control frayed at the edges, his hands aching to rip that shirt off you again. Or maybe you could keep it on while he-

With a low groan, he forced himself to pull away, even though it pained him to do so. He knew you were tired, didn't want to increase the intimacy ten fold in one night when he had been on the verge of disappearing entirely.

Slow down. He told himself.

"Get comfortable," he murmured, motioning toward the bed.

Then, he turned away, undoing the buttons of his vest, but keeping himself out of your sight.

Vincent grabbed a bundle of fresh clothes and slipped into the tiny washroom, barely large enough to turn around in. He pulled them on quickly, not bothering to glance at himself. He wouldn’t ruin the night by standing there, picking himself apart. He just wanted to get back to you, sink into the covers, and fall asleep.

He wouldn’t leave again. Not if it meant seeing you cry like that.

The image of you charging through the grass, his crumpled note clenched in your fist, tear-streaked and furious, nearly brought him to his knees even now. He had made you sob, shake, scream at him. He figured he’d be making it up to you for a long time.

Stepping back into the room, he hesitated, spotting you curled up on his bed, face half-buried in his pillow. Something stirred, deep and unfamiliar.

He had never had someone sleep in his arms before. Not like this.

Sure, he had fucked before. Back when the human part of him still craved warmth, still sought out pleasure in tangled blankets and breathless gasps. But even then, his thoughts had been elsewhere. His body gave, but his heart remained locked behind bars.

But tonight?

His thoughts were only of you.

You had overtaken him completely, and he knew now—it would never be anyone else.

His feet felt too heavy as he neared the bed, as if something about this was too intimate, too real. His body wasn’t used to this kind of closeness, not after years of solitude. But you were already there, already taking up space in his life in a way that terrified him.

Carefully, stiffly, he slid under the blankets, trying not to disturb you too much. He hesitated, unsure where to place himself. His body felt too big, too cold, too unnatural for this.

Then, as if sensing his awkwardness, you shifted. Pressed your back into his chest- Sought him out.

Vincent exhaled sharply. His arm moved on instinct, resting over your waist. His fingers twitched, as if debating whether to hold you tighter. Unrelenting, he thought of his own greed, but he didn’t move away. You nuzzled into his pillow with a sleepy sigh and he felt like you wormed your way into his chest with that adorable hitch in your rhythmic breathing. He'd much rather just watch you sleep, he didn't truly need slumber at all. It did nothing for him most of the time, not like it once had.

You were so warm though. Inviting him to rest his weary self with you and something about sleeping with you felt more intimate than sex or devouring you in the fountain. He had almost thrown this away. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deep, committing your scent to memory. His grip tightened slightly despite the whispers in his head.

"You’ll be the one to hurt her. You’re going to bury her when this is over."

He swallowed thickly, squeezing his eyes shut.

With your breath steady in his ears, your presence anchoring him in ways he didn’t understand quite yet, words he couldn't fathom, Vincent let sleep pull him under.

It was the deepest, peaceful rest he had known since waking from his coffin.

BONUS: [The next morning you would unfortunately find yourself mortified to have found yuffie beat you to the punch, digging your wet underwear, clothes, and Vincent's gauntlet from the fountain with a horrified look on her face. You would hide behind the corner of the inn, wanting to dig your palms into your eyes in humiliation.

"V-vincent got laid?!" She exclaimed in both horror and amusement with a bright grin stretching over her lips. She was going to tease him relentlessly for sure.

You groaned and shuffled back inside the inn without a word, passing everyone at the counter. You'd let Vincent collect his gauntlet on his own when he woke up.]

[pigeonstab]

Okay so!! This is my first time doing creative writing since middle school basically, I did my best and I had fun so, hope you enjoy! (It's under the cut bc I don't want to have it be too long of a post) Also. English is not my first language, (lmao ik) if some sentences are wack it's because I tried to do something cool and it didn't work.

It's about my college AU and I tried to give enough context for it to be understandable even if you haven't looked through the tags but this is meant to be middle of the story kind of stuff so I do recommend that you check it out before reading..

Also @somegrumpynerd

Killer shivered from the cold in the apartment building. 142, Cross’s door number had been hard to find as the 2 had fallen off, leaving only a lighter imprint on the grimy gray walls.

He probably shouldn’t be here, but when else would he get an opportunity like this? The full moon was the only time he could evade Horror’s suffocating sheltering, the others were suspicious, he knew, and with him being out more and more often Nightmare was getting antsy…

He held his breath, finally finding the courage to knock on the door.

He waited a beat but was met with silence, budding worry tightened around his soul, trying the handle he found it slid open easily and with a strange snap, like the lock had been broken and never replaced.

Peering inside the apartment, Killer was shocked to see how cramped Cross’s living space was, a far cry from his own place, and taking his first steps inside he found it was nearly impracticable, the mess he encountered was more akin to rubble than untidiness and testified of an obvious struggle: kitchen appliances and rags strewn around the floor, broken glass, the counters scratched and one of the cupboards ripped off its hinges, these marks an echo of a wild animal’s rampage. This chaos was so unlike Cross, his uneasiness only grew.

Killer carried on with his exploration, turning his attention to the beat up cupboard, it only took a quick glance for him to recognize a small inconspicuous vial, among the cumin, the parsley and the other insignificant spices; there it was, Wolvesbane.

Killer didn’t get the time to dwell on how or why Cross would even own what was essentially Werewolf poison as a loud thud ripped through the heavy silence.

Killer’s non-existent stomach roiled, he left the cupboard behind, now far from his mind as he set to investigate the noise, following the dried blood trail past the torn couch (he did his best to ignore the smell. Now was not the time. Though he could tell it was Cross’s. A fact which worried him as much as it enticed him)

His shoulders were tense as he got close to yet another door, this one already ajar, he pushed it further, the room must’ve been Cross’s bedroom, it was dark and had he not been a vampire he most likely would not have been able to see, the copper smell was only stronger in here.

Killer froze as he spotted the dark mass near the end of the room. Its breathing rocked its hulking form. It had spotted him. Two white reflections pierced through the darkness and in seconds the wolf lunged.

Killer struggled against it as it clawed and snarled at him with a recklessness Killer did not expect from it. The beast had him pinned under its weight and Killer had to seize its jaws. Pushing the snapping and snarling muzzle away from him, his arms burning with the effort, his soul pounding and adrenaline coursing through him. The fight was constant movement. instinct alone permitted Killer to grab a hold of the thing’s maw and force it shut, pressing from top and bottom while it growled and tried to pull away from him. Killer slammed it onto the floor, to which it stilled with a pained whine.

Killer’s chest was heaving, he kept his hands where they were, unsure if the beast would get back up. When it became obvious it wouldn’t his shoulders dropped and he sighed. His eyes roamed the large wolf’s figure, a flannel Killer instantly recognized as Cross’s was still hanging to it, ripped to hell and back but Cross’s. Killer confirmed his suspicion, turning the wolf’s face to find a jagged scar under its right eye.

“Fucking hell Cross. You couldn’t just tell me these thing could you?”

Killer (despite his semi-serious words and lighthearted remark) felt lost. Why hadn’t Cross told him? He banished the thought from his mind. After all he’d never told Cross about his vampirism either. Why would Cross ever tell him about this?

Focusing on Cross he looked him over, his eyes were hazy and unfocused, a purple tint to them that Killer had never seen in them. Well. He’d unpack that later. For now.. “Up we go” Killer picked up the wolf with a grunt of effort, pulling Cross over his arm and heaving the mass of fur over his shoulder, he got to his feet unsteadily, balancing with the extra weight (a lot of extra weight) and started to long trek back home, starting with getting out of the apartment as inconspicuously as he could with a 120 pound Werewolf on his back…

[thedroneranger]

Buzzing Romance

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Synopsis: You and Bob have always vibed, and now it's time for this budding romance to blossom.

Note: Hi, friends! I know I've been MIA around these parts. And I hate it, but priorities. Anywho, I wanted to stop by, drop this little gift and say happy Valentine's Day! And say thank you to those who continue to message, chat, tag and send asks 🖤 This fic is a companion to Vibe Check and Sending Vibes. Reading one or both will provide additional context but isn't mandatory. Enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, fluffy but sex toys.

Word count: 1.1k

Bob wanted tonight to be perfect. Along with dinner at a steakhouse you’d been jonesing to try, he had a beautiful bouquet of roses to give you. 

Ever the perfectionist, Bob had called his florist friend, Riley. Since Bob always made sure Riley was on the shortlist for any local Navy events, he had an open line of favors ready for redemption.  

A few days later, Bob spent over an hour in Riley’s shop, before she opened at seven in the morning, handpicking the biggest, reddest roses.

Later after work at home, Bob spent another 30 minutes adding the final touch. A 25th rose that would never die—as long as you kept it charged. He wanted to confirm that not even a petal was out of place, and the rose-shaped vibrator was well hidden so you didn’t notice at first glance. 

Meanwhile, you were at your place—a rare occasion on its own. However, you were also giddy to get glammed up and go out on a real date with Bob. The thought made you laugh. 

It was clear you and Bob were in this for the long haul, but nothing about your relationship was traditional. You’d been seeing each other exclusively—a mutual decision—for nearly a year but had yet to formally define the relationship. 

Hell, you were still discovering new things about one another. Barely a month ago, Bob found out about your culinary skills when you cooked him his favorite meal as a welcome home surprise. 

The same night he also saw you in something other than an oversized Naval Academy t-shirt for the first time. You thought Bob’s eyes might bulge out of his head when you donned a sheer nude bra and panty set embroidered with the most delicate flowers.

You were hoping Bob would have a similar reaction tonight when he saw you dressed up for something other than a work-related gala. Your gala gowns were always striking but also conservative since you were among colleagues and leadership. Secretly, you hoped Bob fantasized about what was under your garb during galas as much as you fantasized about what was under his dress uniform. 

Your phone shook you from your fantasies. Bob messaged to check that a 6:45 pickup left you plenty of time to get ready. After responding, you put your phone back on the bathroom counter to inspect your face one more time before going to your room to put on your outfit. 

Bob was having nearly the exact same thoughts about your relationship, firsts and fantasies as he stood in front of the mirror, deciding which switch shirt to pair with his slim-cut gray suit. It felt cliche, given the holiday, but he decided to go with a soft pink shirt. One last check of his carefully styled hair, and then Bob was sliding into his two-door 90s Silverado. 

Fifteen minutes later, Bob rolled to a stop in front of your rental. Flowers in hand, he strode to the front door. He poked the doorbell and waited. 

You didn’t even bother to look before you flung the door open. “Hi,” you sweetly greeted him. He nearly dropped the bouquet. Bob couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over your body. 

The sheer bodice and the low sweetheart neckline of your top had him reminiscing about his first night home from his last deployment. The silk high-waisted midi skirt and strappy heels you paired it with were the perfect compliment.

Remembering he was standing on your doorstep, Bob’s wits came about him. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled. There was no way Bob’s cheeks weren’t as red as the flowers in his hand. 

“These are for you!” He gently held the bouquet out. 

Your face lit up as you used both hands to take it. “These are gorgeous! Do I have time to put them in water?”

“Of course.” Bob smiled. “I’ll get the door.” You thanked him and turned to go inside. He closed the front door and trailed you into your kitchen. 

“Here.” You gave him the bouquet back as you reached into the top of a cabinet to get a vase. While your back was turned, he adjusted the vibrator to be a smidge more obvious. “Come.” You waved a hand from him to join you at the sink. 

While the vase filled with water, you grabbed some scissors, and then turned off the faucet. Then you pulled a rose from the bunch to snip the bottom. “These are gorgeous, Bob.”

His smile widened. “I hand picked them.” You stopped to look at him in disbelief. He shrugged. You smirked as you grabbed another rose and trimmed the end before placing it in the vase. Bob watched as you continued to pick roses and diagonally trim the ends. 

Then, you saw it. You froze and looked at Bob. He was smirking. Your expression morphed to mirror his as you unearthed the rose-shaped vibrator. Your eyes flitted between him and the toy. 

“It’s kinda our thing, isn’t it?” He said with a wink. Bob placed what was left of the uncut bouquet on the counter. You also sat the vibrator there, and then wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on your hips as he looked at you. 

“You never cease to amaze me, Bobby.” Your gazes were locked. Your fingers brushed the short hairs at the back of his neck. 

“I have to admit my intentions aren’t purely altruistic.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrow arched as he began to slightly sway you as if music were playing.

“I want to take my girlfriend to dinner.” Bob stopped moving and let his hands wander to the small of your back to pull you closer.

You bit your lip to cull the smile involuntarily pulling the corners of your mouth. “I would love for my boyfriend to take me to dinner.” You could feel the excitement in Bob’s embrace. “And afterward, I hope he’s willing to test out the gift he bought me.”

Bob’s face lit up with both a smile and rosy cheeks. He gladly accepted your lips against his and let his hand drop to cup your backside. You caught him off guard by nipping his lip when he gave you a squeeze. “Let’s skip dinner. I want to go straight to dessert,” he stated. You giggled as you uncoiled your arms from his neck and let a hand come to rest on his chest.

With a playful eye roll, you turned to the counter and finished trimming the roses. Patiently, Bob watched you situate the blooms. When you were done, you took the vase to the living room and sat it in the middle of the coffee table. While you admired your bouquet, Bob went to the bedroom to leave a single rose on the nightstand—ready to keep your romance buzzing.

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[ethereal-blossom]

Deep dive on Victor's possible past + curse

This man is as attractive as he is mysterious and the curiosity is killing me, so I need to let out some thoughts🙏🏻

** I'm going to be referencing some translations and posts so I'll link them and their OP's (I'm too afraid to tag hehe but they deserve all the love and appreciation🤍)

Be aware of JP and EN spoilers

First, what are some things we know and are safe to assume when it comes to Victor? He's the co-founder of Crown and the Queen's Aide. I think it's safe to assume Victor is the oldest in Crown; Harrison calls him an old goat, he acts like a mom, and I believe in the Valentine event the dynamic between Harry and Victor was labeled child-parent. Through this detailed post that @/kurishiri made we can guess that Victor is 30/32+ years old, which I have to subjectively note is very hot. William was 14 when he was invited to the castle where he met Victor, meaning that Victor has been associated with the castle for at least 14 years. Was he already the Queen's Aide back then? High-likely, yes.

But how long exactly has Victor been the Queen's Aide? And how did he become one in the first place? One thing that stands out to me is this dialogue in Victor's Wicked Little Secret event:

For context, Victor is sharing why he started doing magic tricks. He explains it's traced back to the queen and how she does them as a reminder of how difficult but precious it is to get someone to smile.

Of course, it can be that Victor simply didn't go with the queen to the slums that day or that she told him about it, but I like to think about the possibility he didn't know the queen at this point but knew about it anyways because he was a kid in the slums. It might explain why he doesn't necessarily pay attention to status and why he treats people such as the villagers and Kate as his equals despite being the most powerful man in the country. Does he stay humble due to perhaps having experienced the lack of power, money, and status to a severe degree? And is the Victorian slums the reason why he suffered enough pain for a lifetime?

@/Reccyls translated an event in which the suitors are meant to win over Kate's heart by having her give the suitor a heart-shaped necklace. Jude, Roger, and Alfons are being very proactive while Elbert, William, and Victor are drinking tea. The nobles team points out there's no rush because it's the end of the day that matters. Victor agrees but then suggests they're also probably laid back because they are rich. It might be nothing but if you ask me, that's pretty self-aware and honest for a rich person. Not every rich person will realize having money does influence you, and not everybody loves to point out the frowned upon behavior that comes along with money, especially when it applies to yourself. So, it's a very small thing to say and I might be reading too much into it, but I think the people who know the affect of money better than anyone else are the people who weren't born in first class.

Victor continues to point out what makes William and Elbert rich, but right when he wants to talk about himself he cuts himself off (🖕🏻/affectionately) . It confuses me because sir, you are the Queen's Aide. Why is it a mystery that you're rich? Elbert asks if Victor comes from nobility but we never get a yes or no answer to that. So is there still a chance he might have been born in a rich family? Yeah, but I'm not a strong believer of it. Victor is known to cook and sew, and I don't remember where or when but I believe he said somewhere that if he can do it himself he won't let the maids do it. Does this sound like the skills and the mindset of a man born in nobility during the Victorian age? Not to me, so here comes my next thought: what if queen Victoria has taken young Victor under her wing? One other thing that I noticed is that we know Victor likes to dance and that he plays the piano, which are both activities I'd connect to the education of a child of nobility.

I don't know how it would necessarily end up like this, though. But I was thinking: it didn't go unnoticed by us that Victor and Victoria's names are scarily similar to each other (it's like yeah whatever we're a bit like Sherlock ourselves yknow💅🏻). What if his name was quite literally inspired by the Queen's name in the story itself? Maybe Victor chose it or Victoria gave it to him.

Because @/shatcey recently made a post pointing out that William said "the man who calls himself Victor." I heavily agree with her that the phrasing is suspicious, mostly because of Victor as a character.

If he is from the slums then perhaps he's an orphan who doesn't know his actual name, or maybe he took up another one? If Victor is not his actual name, it might explain why we don't have a last name in the first place. Also, @/otomefiend translated the Black Wedding event when it came out in JP. While the official English translation uses "business smile" to describe Victor wearing a smile to bury his dark comment, I like her translation saying "Victor, the Queen's Aide' expression" much better. I genuinely could go into depth about this but I sadly digress. This reminds me of the Wrecked The Halls event wherein Victor wonders if he should give a "Victor-like" reaction but decides not to as he wants to react earnesty to Kate's earnesty.

Naturally, it can also mean he just has different persona's connected to his masks as this is a reoccurring theme and topic in his content. Victor said in the Between Villains' epilogue (translated by otomefiend) that he wants to be seen as the gentle Queen's Aide by Kate, so after showing a bit of his darker side it's natural he goes back to his gentle side that still implies distance to ease Kate. However, that doesn't make any of his masks a lie or someone he is not. Important disclaimer to put out there because this doesn't have to be proof that Victor isn't who he says he is. The phrasing just reminded me of this.

So, it wouldn't be a deep dive if I didn't talk about the theory that Victor might be the queen. Harrison has pointed out multiple times that Victor lies a lot. I think it'd be so funny if Harry is going to be like "stay away from Kate you old goat >:(" in Victor's route and then William is going to be the complete opposite like "listen to your desires and get a room already :)"

I think we have seen the queen a few times, but it's canon in events that people have cosplayed her so who says it doesn't happen all the time? Victor only has to say the Queen's safety is in danger and then someone will fill in. I think it's safe to assume Cybird is making us doubt whether the queen is alive on purpose and what does that say about the mystery? You don't create mystery when there's nothing to reveal.

In Wrapped in Wicked Romance, something broke from the Queen's tea set only for Victor to reveal that, surprise, it's his own set! During the first anniversary epilogue (talked about by shatcey here) Kate gets told the queen is waiting for her in Victor's office and surprise, it's Victor! Or how in Between Two Villains it's mentioned how Victoria doesn't seem human because of the dedication she has as queen but then the doubt of humanity is a theme in Victor's events as well. Or how in Harrison's route Jude is reading the morning's newspaper and it mentions a criminal situation and surprise, Victor shows up from behind and says the queen ordered a mission related to it... almost like he overheard the news and decided on the spot it had to be dealt with.

To be honest, I don't know what to think when it comes to the queen. If she's actually dead, I think she might have died from an illness and then the veil + private persona might have been crafted to make it easier to look like she's alive (a bit like this one thing in Ikemen Prince). Or, perhaps it's related to the topic of curses. Because, why should she give the impression of being alive if she isn't? What does England risks if she's dead? Do we know how many members the royal family has in ikevil's universe to potentially take Victoria's place after her death? Because there's never been a mention of a husband and children. Did she perhaps only trust Victor? I don't know, there's a high chance I am reaching. Maybe the queen is very healthy and happily living her introverted life but again, I don't see why Cybird would tease us like this if that was the case.

Going back to another translation by reccyls, here Victor ends on the note that even if he has feelings for Kate he can't offer anything as "I belong to her majesty/ Victor belongs to Victoria." Ignore that you can call me the wicked witch of the west with how green of envy I turned, but this stood out to me a lot.

I think it shows an incredible amount of dedication and loyalty, and I read it in two ways. If Victor was saved by Victoria, it might be that he feels like he owes her himself, or perhaps a deal/promise was made? But, in a way, I also read it as Victor belonging to England. His loyalty towards queen Victoria is loyalty towards the safety and well-being of England, a land he's passionate about keeping safe.

The relationship between Victor and Victoria is lowkey fascinating to me because if she's still alive, they have been together for so many years. Victor always talks so positively about her so even though we barely interact with her, I became to really like and admire ikevil!Victoria. Victor is also the only one who we know speaks with the queen directly. For the tea set mentioned earlier, Victor said he replaced them with his own because he is known to break them when he and the queen are drinking tea. Victor braids the queen's hair and helps her with fashion. William even said in this event translated by @/judesmoonbeauty that the queen knows everything about Victor.

I'm going to lose my mind if the queen only used him, though, and put so much burden on a fairly young Victor at some point.

We've almost reached the end but the last thing I want to talk about is Victor's birthday event translated by @/chesireliam. Victor murders a bunch of criminals with what I assume is his curse or something in that direction. He commands them to succumb to his wickedness and the people essentially kill themselves with a peaceful expression. William makes a comment about it, saying these men look as if almost possessed by a God. Victor thinks to himself it's like saying Her Majesty The Queen was no God, and then he says humans can never be God. To be honest, I'm slightly confused because I feel like this can mean different things. When Will makes his comment he's speaking about the peaceful faces, so I don't think he's talking about how the criminals were unhealthily worshipping the queen but about Victor's ability. Also, this is once more a moment wherein someone's humanity is questioned, and it seems to apply to both Victor and Victoria.

One of the reasons why I think it's a curse is because of this post Shatcey made. One of the screenshots translates to Victor saying he doesn't want Kate to end up lying at his feet with a happy face. It sounds an awful lot like what happened to the criminals in the event. Victor worrying about Kate's fate like that makes me believe it might has something to do with the fate of his possible curse. Think about it: Kate essentially gets dragged in every cursed fate of the suitor and if Victor is another cursed individual, it's high-likely his curse is related to death.

After revisiting this post after a while, we got another sign of Victor being cursed. In this event, everybody's curse got stronger due to our lovely doctor. Reccyles translated the event here and as we can see, Victor was effected by it as well. His appearance changed, now wearing gloves and a mask, which is fitting for his theme that involves wearing different "masks" in front of different people; masks that seems to be motivated by the mystery around his curse). Anything Victor touches will instantly die and even without touching the flowers around him, they seem to whither simply by being in his presence. No wonder loneliness is also a theme of his :')

There must be something special going on, though. Is Victor's curse like any other but kept a mystery because something about Victor's identity should stay a mystery? Or is there actually something special about his curse or whatever ability he has? Because his first birthday & the chaotic night event convinced me he's not an ordinary human. However, something special must be going on for this to be a mystery.

Funny story but for a while I thought that if Victor is cursed it might be Ursula from The Little Mermaid. Sometimes you can see easter eggs of the suitor's curses back in the outfit designs so when I looked at Victor's outfit, I saw he has fish scrubs on his jacket and something that looks like knots/ropes (reminding me of sailboats), plus the deep blue and black aesthetic still reminds me of the dark sea. But, his bonus story of the Dark If event (translated by reccyls) ruined that oops. It's one fairytale that was actively mentioned to not be it. Shatcey made a really interesting post about Victor's possible curse after this event and I think it'd be really cool if this was it!

Another reason why I used to think The Little Mermaid could be it was because in the christmas event, Victor thinks to himself he has sacrificed his human soul to death in order to get what he has now, and who has a song about doing business with poor unfortunate souls? But once more I got proven wrong so anywaysss, this is what he thinks:

"Yes, I remember the battering rain and roaring thunder... A storm that threatened to destroy the night itself had been raging. Two paths had lain before me. One path meant immediate death, disintegrating to dust and being forgotten by history. And the other path... The other path would mean giving up my chance at a normal life forever. When faced with those two paths, I had reached out for the latter. And so, I became Death's prisoner, Death's beloved, and Death's constant companion."

Here, we are witnessing the moment he's sacrificing his soul. He has a choice that'll impact him as a person greatly and I feel like it's very safe to assume he's close to dying, so it'd make sense if this part of his life triggered a curse related to death. Also, his flashback says "disintegrating to dust and being forgotten by history" which is another reason why I think Victor might have come from the slums, or at least not nobility. It sounds like Victor himself thought he had left no footprint on the world, which actually aligns with his character if you read the translation of Will saying Victoria knows Victor better than anyone till the end. Because in it, he got upset there hadn't been a report made of him in a while and he looked so happy as Kate made one of him. Also, in the Countdown event he thanks Kate for writing about the boys so they won't be forgotten. Seems like wanting to be remembered is very valuable to Victor.

But I got sidetracked a lot. I think the comment Victor made about the queen in his birthday event is another micro-hint. I sometimes feel like I'm reaching like a clown trying to figure out if Victor isn't keeping up the idea the queen is still alive. It almost feels like having a gaslighting lover; am I picking up clues or am I picking up clowns makeup? Wouldn't it actually be a possibility for Harry to help Kate unravel the mystery that is Victor? Because while they're not the most interactive dynamic, I feel like Harrison will at least have a little role in Victor's route. As I mentioned before, Harrison pointed out multiple times that Victor lies a lot. He goes a step further in the christmas event one, saying that if Kate takes the first step towards Victor's darkness, he'll snap her out of it. Plus, Harrison already had his "when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth" moment in his route so I think it makes sense for the Sherlock lover who is a walking lie detector to play a role in the most mysterious suitor who is a walking liar's route.

The actual last thing I want to talk about (guess I'm a liar like Victor) is that I notice that in events wherein Victor and Kate are together, they declare their love in an interesting way. Since death seems to be a huge part of Victor that possibly is connected to a curse, the two put focus on loving each other even after death. I'm curious if this is part of Victor's possible fate or if this is just a romantic way of thinking that fits Victor's theme. Either way, I think it's perfect to end on this note.

So, I think this is mostly what I wanted to get out. Thank you for having read all the way through and please share any theories you have! And spread love for the people mentioned in this post because I'm eternally grateful for everything they translate and post🤍

[alastor-is-best-deer-boi]

The Littlest Morningstar

Rating: Gen

Warnings: None

Tags: Pre-canon, fluff, domestic fluff, parenthood, canon compliant for the most part I think except maybe one headcanon

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar admire their newborn daughter, Charlotte.

Note: After episode five I just had to write this! I had it stuck in my head and needed to get it out. I know posting it right before new episodes tomorrow seems crazy, but better now than tomorrow I think. Hope you enjoy all the fluff! This is my first Hazbin Hotel fic, so I hope it's not ooc.

Also, I know the title is ironic considering Charlie grows up to be taller than her dad, but it fits in this context.

Additionally, we need more little Charlie gifs! I know it's not accurate to the fic, but it's the best I can do.

Also Read on AO3

Lucifer sat slightly curled up with his wife, Lilith, on their bed. The couple leaned against each other, taking in the quiet, peaceful moment with the newest addition to their family, their newborn daughter.

He watched how his wife doted on her sleeping daughter, bundled up comfortably in a soft blanket. Lilith whispered sweet words to the infant, a smile on her face. Lucifer felt like he’d fallen in love with his wife all over again, his heart full of love for his precious family.

“What’s on your mind, dear?” Lilith spoke, still keeping her tone soft to not wake up Charlotte.

Lucifer looked up at her, a small smile on his face. “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have both of you in my life… and, I don’t know, I guess I’m feeling a little overwhelmed with love right now.” He chuckled softly, wiping a tear from his eye.

Lilith beamed, taking his hand in hers for a moment, rubbing gentle circles with her thumb on his skin.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

She let out a small sigh, though still with a happy expression. “Tired… but overjoyed.”

“It was a lot to go through, but you, of course, handled it gracefully throughout the whole thing.” He kissed her hand.

“The whole thing? I feel like you may be exaggerating just a tad.” She joked.

“No, I mean it. How could I possibly lie about my beautiful, strong, and amazing wife, huh? It’s not something I’d do.” He grinned, meaning every word he said.

“Thank you, honey.” Lilith smiled and placed her hand on his cheek, leaning closer to kiss him.

Lucifer gladly accepted, closing his eyes and enjoying her presence. They eventually parted and rested their foreheads together; both smiling.

He pulled away when he heard the tiniest-sounding yawn he’d ever heard in his life; causing a wave of emotions in his heart. Lilith and he looked down at their tiny daughter. Her face had scrunched up, and with some effort, she opened her eyes.

“Oh, just look at her, Luce…” Lilith cooed, making sure her daughter was still settled comfortably in the blanket.

He could feel tears welling up again, quickly wiping them away and smiling. “She’s beautiful.”

“She looks like you, has your eyes.” She murmured, looking down at her with a small smile.

Lucifer felt a swell of pride seeing how similar his daughter’s eyes looked to his. Long ago, he struggled with some of the changes that had been done to him when he fell, the color of his eyes included. But seeing them in his daughter, they suited her wonderfully.

“Her eye shape is like yours, and she kinda has your nose,” he commented. “I think she’s a perfect mix of us, right?”

Lilith couldn’t help but smile again. “Absolutely perfect. Do you want to hold her?”

“Oh, really? You sure you’re ready to hand her over? Just look how small she is, practically the size of my hand! So fragile… I just… well, I…” He chuckled nervously, stammering.

“Honey, you won’t hurt her. It’ll be okay.” She cut off his anxious rambling, attempting to soothe him.

Lucifer looked up at her, slightly furrowing his brows and nodding, attempting to get his nervousness under control. “I’m sorry, you’re right… I guess I’m just…”

“Scared? I understand. You’re not alone in this.” She gave him an empathetic look. “We’ve been practicing for the whole nine months. You got this.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and nodded again. “Thank you, Lili. I’m ready.”

“Don’t forget to unbutton your shirt a bit. Skin-to-skin contact is important for newborns.” She explained.

“Oh, uh, right.” Lucifer muttered and worked on unbuttoning a few top buttons on his shirt. He was significantly dressed down for the whole experience, wearing a long-sleeved plain button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and slacks.

When he was done, he held his arms out, carefully taking the infant in a secure hold as his wife slowly passed her to him. Little Charlotte blinked a couple of times, looking around the room. She had managed to wriggle one of her tiny hands out of the swaddle, still having her little fingers in an instinctive fist.

Lucifer held her close to his heart, hoping she could feel all the overwhelming love coming from the people who loved her most. He smiled, listening to her soft breathing and quiet coos.

“We’re so glad you’re here with us, little one,” he spoke softly, noticing how curious she was, continuing to look around. “Yeah, it’s a big change… all these new sights and senses. But you’re safe here with us. I promise.”

Lilith rested her head against her husband’s shoulder, watching them both lovingly.

Lucifer gently touched her soft, chubby cheeks. His thumb carefully rubbed the adorable little red circles on her face. They were just like the ones on his face.

Charlotte made a little content coo, already heading for the process of babbling. Though it would be a long while to get to that point. She reached her tiny hand out, gripping Lucifer’s finger.

“Wow… she’s way stronger than she looks.” He chuckled softly. “I suppose she takes after her mother.”

Lilith placed her hand on theirs for a moment, not fighting the urge to smile again. “She takes after both of her parents.”

He nodded, feeling tears in his eyes start to well up again. “She’s perfect… thank you for giving me the opportunity to be a father, I mean it.” He looked at Lilith, feeling nothing but pure love.

She smiled and gave him a quick kiss. Next, she kissed her daughter’s head; causing the newborn’s face to scrunch up in surprise for a split second.

Lucifer chuckled at her adorably confused expression. “You okay, Char Char? I guess it’s another new thing to get used to.”

“Char Char?” Lilith repeated, an amused smile showing on her face. “She’s barely hours old and you’ve already come up with a nickname?”

“Ah, well, I guess I couldn’t help myself… she’s just so cute!” He blushed a little from embarrassment.

“Of course she is. Look who her father is.” Lilith teasingly flirted a little. She laughed shortly, seeing how red his face turned.

“Thank you, dear.” Lucifer smiled and looked away for a brief second before looking back down at his daughter, gaining his composure somewhat.

Even though she wasn’t at the age yet to know how to smile, the corner of Charlotte’s mouth pulled up a little, giving the appearance of a smile.

Lucifer rested his face against Lilith’s shoulder for a second. “I don’t know if I have the strength for this Lili.” His voice muffled slightly.

She picked up on why and chuckled quietly. “Why is that?”

“Just—look at her! My heart can’t take how cute she is,” he said in a hushed tone, turning to look at his daughter again.

“I guess you’ll have to get used to it.” She smiled.

“I have no choice.” He sighed, clearly smiling as well.

Charlotte cooed again, and he gently patted her head, feeling the soft golden curls of her hair.

“I can tell she’s getting sleepy again… or maybe hungry… or both.” He furrowed his brows. “I’m going to have to learn all the differences.”

“You’ll get them in time,” she replied.

“Do you want to take her again?” He asked. “I don’t want to hoard all the baby cuddles…”

“If you’re okay with it, and there’s no such thing as hoarding baby cuddles.”

Lucifer scoffed lightheartedly. “Yet.”

He kissed Charlotte’s little red cheeks before handing her back to her mother. He watched her settle back into her mother’s arms, yawning again.

“Oh, you were right about her being hungry… I’m guessing after this she’ll probably fall asleep again,” Lilith spoke, nursing her daughter.

“Sounds about right. That’s the life of a baby, especially one as new as her.”

Eventually, as they had predicted, Charlotte fell asleep. Lucifer listened to her calm breathing again, feeling at peace, which had been hard to come by in his life before.

“We’re parents now,” he stated. “This is our new life…”

“Still feeling glad about it?” Lilith asked.

“I’m overjoyed.” He spoke honestly. “It’s just a lot to take in.”

She nodded. “I’m sure after a bit we’ll settle into our new routine.”

Lucifer looked up at her and smiled, appreciating how wise she was being. What would he do without her?

“I know I sound like a broken record, but I’m so lucky to have you two… I love you both.” He managed to keep his voice steady.

Lilith kissed his cheek. “I feel the same.”

Lucifer hoped he’d be good at this whole father thing. He knew that realistically every parent made mistakes, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t give it his best. And it didn’t change the fact that no matter what, he would love his daughter with everything he had.

“I love you, Charlotte. More than anything.” He thought.