#so expect like fifteen chapters total?

[kookslastbutton]

Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter two

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love

word count: 6.1k+

warnings: This chapter in particular is written from Yoongi's perspective, oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of body shaming by Hybe executive, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, light fighting between members (literally crack), Namjoon has a little crush, Oc being a total boss at work bc she is amazing at her job, and cute & meaningful Yoon and OC interactions that make them finally start bonding (a little flirty too, hehe) 😉

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: CHAPTR TWO IS HERE! GOD...the slow burn exists outside the series too with me not updating for two months. I'm sorry guys but TYSM for your patience! I'm VERY excited to release this chapter bc I think Yoon & Oc are super cute, hehe. Okay anyway, this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

Yoongi stands with his hands placed loosely on his hip, chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath. The seven of them had been practicing choreography for their new RUN BTS song nonstop when Jimin called for a much-needed, fifteen-minute break. There’s a part of him that’s thanking the younger for it and another that’s wishing he hadn’t, as every moment left alone with his thoughts is spent decoding his last encounter with you at the cafeteria.

Why had you made such a beeline for the exit the moment he was waved over by his member?

You also completely ignored his attempts to greet you on your way out. He only stopped by the cafeteria to slip an orange in his pocket before returning to his studio. He didn’t mean to intrude or incite that you had to leave with his sudden presence.

Taehyung assured him that you merely left to tend to work matters, which he’d typically sum as hyper-fixation with one’s work as he’s prone to do the same, but this felt different at its core. Your behavior seemed more intentional than that. The last thing he wants to do is misread the whole situation, but he must’ve done or said something to cause your uneasiness.

“Hyung, how did the album meeting go this morning?” A clear voice comes from Yoongi's left as his fellow band member, Namjoon, strides next to him, water bottle clenched in his fist. Like himself, large droplets of sweat dots around the man’s brow. The minor interruption shakes Yoongi out of his slightly dazed state.

“Went well.” He takes a big swish of his own water before screwing the cap back on. “We reviewed everything in three hours and the album looks better than I anticipated. There are a couple of promotional strategies that still need finalizing, but I’m pretty confident about it overall.”

“That’s great, man. __-nim’s been doing good work with TXT for the last few years, so she’s definitely suited for the job. I thought about requesting her help to promote Indigo but the timing of it all didn’t work.” Namjoon’s voice drops an octave at the last part, as if remorseful for more than a missed professional opportunity.

��Ah, maybe your next album hyung,” Jimin suddenly chimes in, slapping the taller man on the shoulder from the side. “I have a feeling you and __-nim would work well together. Think about it, you’re both natural born leaders and you’re smart too. I bet __ -nim has as high of an IQ as you.”

Namjoon’s cheeks flush with the faintest tint of rose as Jimin flashes a knowingly cheeky grin. Yoongi, of course, witnesses the entire exchange, the slightest part of him feeling uprooted by the thought of his band member and new marketing manager suddenly hitting it off. He decides not to comment on the matter, choosing to remain in ignorance instead. This is all speculation, right?

Now that they’re all on the subject of his album though, it gets him thinking that maybe he’s been too narrow viewed regarding the reason for your off putting behavior at lunch.

D-Day’s release has become a consuming priority lately, with everyone involved worked to the bone. Aside from himself, you’ve been bearing the brunt of it. He’s appreciative of course, considering the album holds a deep sense of meaning to him, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to be perfect. A little pushback during the first proposal is natural, yet he did get more resistant toward ideas during this morning’s meeting than anticipated. Perhaps some of his nitpicking was unnecessary, adding to your already heavy load.

Yoongi’s head feels worse the longer he entertains the possibility. He doesn’t want to make the first time working together a complete whirlwind, especially this early. A strong, healthy partnership starts with trust, safety, and mutual respect. The same philosophy can be applied to relationships of varying natures. That reminds him—since when did Taehyung and you become so close? He’s been ruminating over it all afternoon, like a jigsaw puzzle he can’t solve.

It’s odd how little he knows.

“I heard someone mention __-nim over here. I want in.” A small grumble leaves Yoongi’s lips as Jungkook pushes next to him, displeased by how tiny his space bubble has gotten due to the huddle his members have formed around him. Just why the hell is everyone so interested in his new marketing director? That's what he wants to know.

“Can you introduce me to her sometime hyung?" Jungkook pleads. "I’m thinking about releasing an album in the next year and it’d be great if you could hook us up…yknow?”

Oh, Yoongi knows. He knows exactly what this young buck is insinuating, but it isn’t mating season yet and even if it were he will do no such thing as to “hook them up”. Besides, his conscience tells him that you wouldn't be interested in the company of a younger man anyway—not that your dating life is any of his business or anything.

“Get in line Jungkookie, behind Namjoon. He needs her for his album first.” Jimin squeezes down on Namjoon’s muscular shoulders with both hands, shaking him just enough to hype him up. His hands are removed seconds later when he’s told to knock it off.

“That’s enough about this, okay? I’m pretty sure Yoongi-hyung is the only one who actually needs __-nim right now because, in case you dumbasses have forgotten, D-Day is set to release in April,” Namjoon scolds the two with a commanding tone. Jungkook, per usual, remains persistent in his original request and keeps his full attention on Yoongi.

“Anyway hyung, as I was saying, I know your album takes priority so I’m in no hurry to meet her. I can be pretty patient as you know-“

“Heh, that’s a lie.”

“Shove it Jimin, no one’s talking to you.” Jungkook’s eyebrows scrunch together as Jimin snorts helplessly next to Namjoon.

“You shove it Kook,” Jimin counters. “And stop trying to date __-nim! Find your own woman!”

“I’m not trying to date her! She's my noona for gods sake! Do you think I’m oblivious to how the public reacts to idols dating? Also, __-nim is a Hybe employee, not an idol. I can only imagine the type of scandal the media would spin it as.”

“Right, we all know you actually just want to take her to your bed instead,” Jimin interrupts for the umpteenth time. “Our handsome leader, on the other hand, is interested in her professional abilities. We can learn a lot from him.”

“Why are you always trying to start a fight with me Jimin? Is it because I can take you, now that I've been building up more muscle?” Jungkook’s accusations earn him nothing more than a sea of eye-rolls until Jimin lunges himself towards him, puffing out his chest the best he can to size him up.

Namjoon rubs his face with a hand, a clear visual display of his exhaustion. He’s been moderating these stupid squabbles for nine years now. “Alright very mature, biggest boy band in the world and this is what it’s come to? Amazing, congrats to everyone for winning the award for most-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Seokjin interjects, effortlessly shouting over everyone while waving his hands. “My brothers…why are we fighting over here like a couple of peacocks? We are all beautiful in our own, individual ways. Mine, for example, is my handsome face.”

“For the love of god hyung, we’re trying to settle something. Go take your inspirational pep talk elsewhere!” Jungkook bends his knees, swooping down to throw Jimin over his shoulder but he misses when the man starts tickling him ruthlessly.

“St-ah-stop it Jimin!"

“You stop it, you frickin’ brat! Trying to take advantage of our hyungs for your own selfish gain.” Jimin then slaps Jungkook on the ass which does not go unappreciated as Hoseok cackles from the other side of the room. Up until this point, he’s been scrolling on his phone, completely unbothered by the chaos. As Hoseok nears the action, Jungkook delivers a swift kick to Jimin’s rear end.

“Ow, what the fuck Kook?!” Jimin tries soothing the sting by massaging it with his hands. “You little prick!”

“Oh come on, I barely hit you. Gaining sympathy points won’t help this time, plus I see you trying to hide a grin. You think this shit is funny. You’re sick you know that?”

Jimin makes a move to return the kick to his youngest member but ends up hitting a far taller, and leaner subject instead. Taehyung, who just returned from the bathroom, throws a hand over his abdomen and grunts from the sudden impact.

“What is—shit Jimin that really hurt!” Taehyung’s baritone voice echoes off the walls as he winces from the pain. He takes a few deep breaths, then viciously eyes the two brawlers followed by the rest of the room. “What the hell is going on? I heard you all talking about __-nim from the hallway. Yoongi-hyung here is trying to kick off his album and tour, which we are supposed to be celebrating over drinks this Friday, but here you are arguing with each other and who has the biggest dick. Well, you can all put it away because as __-nim’s best friend, and number one wingman, only I’m allowed to set her up with someone and it won’t be with any of you! Sorry hyung…” he looks at Namjoon who appears to have brushed the comment off.

As soon as Taehyung ceases his mini-speech, eery silence sets in. Hoseok is the first to dare say a word.

“Uh, so what’s this about being her best friend Tae?”

“Yeah, I had no idea either.” Jimin quirks his head to the side, awaiting the details.

“Same,” Namjoon adds in a short breath.

“What happened to us, man?” Jungkook pouts at Taehyung, a total 180 from moments ago when he was in an unsolicited sparring match with Jimin. “You used to share everything with me. Now you’re holding out on me. Since when did you and __-nim start hanging out?”

Yoongi’s ears perk up for the first time since all the commotion began, curious to hear Taehyung’s response. He only recently discovered the blossoming friendship hours ago and even then, it was a brief inside look.

“I didn’t think to mention it but yeah, we started talking since her first day at Hybe. I bumped into her on the way into work, early morning for both of us. I expected her to be a bit on the reserved side, considering she was a new hire, but she was quite friendly. The more we talked, the more I felt like I knew her as if a childhood best friend I’d reconnected with.” Pausing, he wets his lips before continuing. “We share a lot of our meals together now, like our lunches during the weekday. Her food tastes amazing by the way. I think she missed her calling as a chef but it’s more than food— it’s a love language, a labor of love.”

“Wow, you two sure are connected,” Hoseok speaks first again, seeing the rest of his members working to process the new bit of info.

“Platonically, yes.”

“This’ll be good for Yoongi-hyung and his album then! No bad blood exists here!” Hoseok shifts his gaze between Taehyung and Yoongi, pleased with the outcome. The older of the two remains speechless, yet it’s far from a dazed expression. Yoongi is instead deep in thought, the wheels turning in his head.

So maybe it’s true that birds of a feather flock together, he hums to himself. The two of you seem to be social butterflies with a vase full of commonalities. He, on the other hand, prefers his solitude. That’s not to say he’s a hermit or anything though. Hybe hosts a company-wide New Year’s Eve party every single year and he’s made his best effort to attend them all. He mainly mingles with his members, but he still makes sure to small talk with other coworkers. Come to think of it, did he even see you at last year’s New Year’s Eve party?

He can’t remember much from the night except Seokjin scolding him for not wishing him a happy birthday the minute the clock struck midnight. He was a bit tipsy at that point. Taehyung disappeared soon after to make his usual rounds, stopping to chat with everyone in his path. Maybe he took off to talk to you during that time.

Okay, he really needs to stop thinking about you.

"Just to confirm, is everyone still on for Friday night to celebrate D-Day?" Jimin pipes. "I booked us a good place to have some food and drinks.

Taehyung nods, "I am, as long as it's not the same place we saw our CFO and his much younger date feeding each other. I couldn't eat for the rest of that night."

Jungkook fakes a gag before replying. "I'm sorry but does anyone know how is he still working here? Guy creeps me out."

"I swear, I couldn't agree more. Just yesterday he made an egregiously body-shaming comment toward __-nim to someone else on the board. She kept a brave front when she told me, but I'm damn tempted to get him removed from his position myself!" Taehyung's nostrils flare as he shares his frustration, fingers digging into his hips.

Yoongi takes a final chug of his water before abruptly tossing the bottle on the floor. A sharp crack resounds through the space, instantly commanding the authority of the room. “Fifteen minutes is over,” he gruffs. “It might be twenty minutes with all the bickering earlier. We don't have time to be talking about this anymore.”

“Come on now," Hoseok says. "Didn't you hear what Taehyung said? Our CFO really is a class-A jerk. I feel so bad that __-nim has to put up with his bullshit, she doesn't deserve it." His eyes frantically search the room, hoping to rally support.

"Don't worry about that asshole," Yoongi assures, "I'll handle it." He strides over to his choreographed position on the dance floor as if a leader in his own right, the rest of the members following in his steps.

"Just don't kill him, hyung," Namjoon says, resting a hand on the older's shoulder from behind. Yoongi merely snorts lightly in reply.

Yoongi is dead tired, his feet feeling heavier the minute he stands from his studio chair. He could have left hours ago, but here it is nearly 9:30 at night, and he's only just leaving the office.

As he shuffles down the hallway towards the elevator, he notices the eerie silence. It's thick, almost palpable. There's not a soul left in the building this late at night. When the elevator doors open, he leans casually against the metal rail, closes his eyes, and mentally retraces his day.

Overall, it was a decent day, he thinks, productive at best. Skipping dinner to work on his album tracks was an easy decision, but he might be paying for it now given the intense growling of his stomach. Despite his songs being considered perfect by his members, he can't help but tweak each one a final time. It's as if his gut tells him there's still a piece missing from the whole.

All at once, the elevator comes to a sudden stop. Yoongi's eyes shoot open, anticipation flooding his senses. Is someone still here? He listens intently, straining to hear any sound over the faint hum of the elevator. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, the elevator doors slide open to reveal an empty, dimly lit hallway. It's the 16th floor. He hesitates for a second, peering into the shadows, but there’s no sign of anyone. Strange.

Just as the elevator doors begin to close, Yoongi hears a distant, unmistakable voice. "Please hold the door!" you plead, your voice strained with urgency. He responds immediately, stretching out an arm to block the door. "Thank you so much," you say, slipping in beside him, your bag thrown over your shoulder.

Yoongi watches as you enter, curiosity in his eyes. It seems you were of like mind tonight, working late and likely burdened by the extra work he caused for you. The feeling of tension is as clear as it was yesterday, lingering as a reminder of the unspoken discomfort between you both.

But then again, there's that issue Taehyung mentioned, looming in his thoughts. He hadn't realized you overheard the horrendous comment his CFO made about you. No wonder you hurried away from him like a bat out of hell yesterday; you knew he knew. He wouldn't dare shine a light on the situation and risk embarrassing you further; no one needs to relive such a belittling experience. Yet, he's wrestling with the right words to say.

"Heading home, Min PD-nim?" You surprise him by speaking first, voice firm with a touch of gentleness.

Yoongi allows a faint smile to tug at the corners of his lips, hoping it'll relieve some tension. "I am, it's been quite a day. What about you?"

You nod, shifting the bag on your shoulder. "Same here. Just had to wrap up a few things before heading out."

He hesitates for a moment, noting how you speak as if it were only a few minutes past five or six in the evening. "I understand. I was working in my studio up until now. I should be back up there tomorrow too," he says, then chuckles lightly, "Sometimes I feel like I should just live up there."

You return the subtle laugh and smile softly at him, your light brown eyes catching his dark ones. It feels like the same prolonged gaze you shared upon first meeting, yet now, it's somehow become easier; perhaps a hint of familiarity.

"By the way," he continues, seizing the opportunity, "feel free to call me Yoongi-ssi. I'm not that formal in case you didn't know." He playfully gestures to his casual attire; tan cargo pants, grey plaid button-down, and sneakers.

You seem hesitant towards the request at first, evident from your delayed response. "Are you sure?" you choke. "I don't want to over step my boundaries."

"There's no need to worry about that," he assures. "We're on equal level aren't we? If we're going to be working side by side for the next eight months give or take, I want us to feel comfortable with each other. Please, call me Yoongi-ssi."

"Okay, I might need some time to get used to that," you say, head nodding, "I'll try calling you Yoongi-ssi from now on."

"There's one other thing too," he pauses, "since we'll be working on D-Day's promotion from start to finish, I'll have many of my own opinions. It's a natural instinct for me, but I don't want to be a hinderance. I don't want anyone else giving you issues either, so I'd like to hear your full thoughts on matters, especially when it comes to important decisions."

"That means a lot Yoongi-ssi, thank you. I'm very grateful that you'd allow me to be a part of this and I'd very much like us to have an equal partnership. This is your album though, so I want to make sure it gets the recognition it deserves in the way you'd prefer."

Yoongi glances at the floor numbers displayed to the right of the elevator doors. Any second now and you'll reach the lobby. He wouldn't mind talking longer, but letting you both get a decent night's sleep is the far better idea at this point.

"I trust that D-Day is in the right hands with you, __ssi," he replies. "It's why I recommended that we work together to promote it in the first place. Bang PD was also confident in the idea. We don't doubt your expertise for a second." He pauses when the elevator doors slide open and allows you to be the first to exit. "Have a good night, okay?"

For the first time, you reciprocate the wish with a full, illuminating smile. It's not a professional one, Yoongi notes, its a real one—as genuine and sincere as his words. He takes it as a sign that the tides may finally be turning for the better. "You too," he hears you say before you push through the large revolving doors and step into the cool night air.

In the evenings that follow, Yoongi finds himself back in his studio as promised, a glass of whiskey in hand. He ultimately decided that if he was going to be here until all hours of the night, he might as well have a cold beverage to keep him company.

As he leans back in his chair, swirling the dark amber liquor in his glass, his mind inadvertently wanders to you. Were you downstairs again? Were you here with him? It would seem that given your unexpected late-night encounter in the elevator, the validity of the idea wouldn't be all that wild or far-fetched.

With each passing minute, as the clock inches closer to the late hours, he finds himself circling back to the same thought. It's as if the possibility of running into you has become a highlight of his night.

Just then, a deep and familiar voice interrupts. "Burning the midnight oil again, hyung?"

Startled, Yoongi looks up to see Taehyung standing in the doorway, a sympathetic smile on his face. Despite it being almost 9 at night, his younger member is nothing short of flawless in appearance.

"Yeah, working on my tracks," Yoongi replies, offering a small smile in return. "What are you doing here?"

Taehyung steps further into the room, hand tucked in his pocket. "I wanted to stay late to keep __-nim company, but I'm not sure how much longer she plans on staying tonight. I was on my way out when I figured I'd stop by to see you too."

"Well, thanks for thinking of me. Want a drink?" He offers, nodding towards the nearby whiskey bottle.

"No, thanks," Taehyung declines politely, shaking his head. "I'll let you enjoy your whiskey in peace. Although, __-nim might take you up on that same offer one of these days. She has a strong taste for it, as you do. Anyway, I'm heading out. Don't overdo it with your music, hyung, they're already perfect."

Once Taehyung leaves the studio, Yoongi's previous string of thoughts return to him tenfold.

So you really are here, he muses, and you happen to like the same throat-burning alcohol. Should he venture downstairs and offer a drink? No, that would probably be too much, and he wouldn't want to interrupt you. Maybe if Taehyung were accompanying him, but not alone; he doesn't share enough rapport with you to merit such a spontaneous drop-in yet.

No, he takes another sip of his whiskey, he'll see you tomorrow morning instead; during your morning meeting. But that gets him thinking—he's still yet to decide on whether or not he'll make an appearance on Fallon's show. He’d done it with his members numerous times, but this would be the first time doing it alone. His album would indeed benefit from the exposure, though.

"Damn it," he curses, raising from his seat. "I work my ass off. I work my ass off for it all!" He then sits back down, finishing off the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, the burn soothing his frustration momentarily. With a resigned sigh, he turns his attention back to his music. "Damn it, I guess I'll do it."

If it weren't for his phone notification reminding him of his 10 am meeting on Friday, Yoongi would have missed it entirely. Normally, he never forgets important events, but several late nights in the studio had predictably caught up with him. He feels extremely sleep-deprived today, his memory more prone to blanking than usual. Waking up with a throbbing headache at 5 am, which hasn't dimmed in the slightest, doesn’t help either. Nonetheless, with only ten minutes to spare, Yoongi has no choice but to pull himself together and head downstairs to the conference room.

"Good morning, Min PD-nim," you greet him as he walks through the door. "We're about to start."

Yoongi drags out a chair and takes a seat. You look nice today, he notes quietly to himself. He makes sure to send a small smile your way before returning the warm greeting. "Good morning __-ssi," he says. "I told you we can speak informally didn't I?"

He waits for your response, easily tuning out the startled reactions from the rest of the team. Most high-ranking officials in the organization expected to be addressed formally by those in lower positions, but here he was, openly requesting you to speak as equals. It was almost unheard of during work hours. He was Min Yoongi, after all.

"Right, of course," you reply, "You'll have to excuse me, Yoongi-ssi. It slipped my mind for a moment."

Yoongi watches as you shuffle a few papers in your hand before continuing. "To get us started, I thought we'd discuss the decision to schedule a spot on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. Will we be proceeding with this?"

"After mauling it over I think it's a good idea for the album. Do we have an idea of when this would happen?"

"Ideally after the album releases and around the time the U.S. tour begins April 26th. I say we aim for early May. Given Fallon's show's high demand, we'll need to get a jump on this as soon as we can." You shift your attention to your digital marketing and promotions team. "So-hyun, can you reach out to the producers and see what strings we can pull?"

She nods, scribbling a quick note on her writing pad. "We'll reach out today. I'll let you know as soon as we get a response."

"Excellent, thank you. I'm glad to hear you're on board with this Yoongi-ssi. It'll be a great way to promote D-Day and attract a global audience. The more smartly we utilize our resources, the better your album will be positioned in the current market." You take a brief pause to flip through your notes again. "Speaking of resources, we'll need to start booking magazine shoots and interviews. I'm proposing we run cover pages with Marie Claire Korea and Vogue Japan."

Yoongi would be taken aback by the flood of ideas and schedules you're firing at him, all within the first fifteen minutes, if he weren't already aware of your level of competency. This is exactly why he chose you, he hums to himself, your preparedness is impressive, but not surprising.

"I presume this will take place next year?" he asks. "During their spring issues?"

"Absolutely. We'll submit inquiries soon to get the ball rolling, but having the shoots completed now would be premature. Plus, it'll take some time before there are any openings with the companies. I think we should be consistent with tour dates and have Marie Claire go out in May and Vogue ready in August of next year."

"Okay, I'm fine with all that but we'll need to have something exciting released now, don't we? I know I start my weekly lives tonight, but shouldn't there be something more we can do?"

"I agree," you reply. "That's why I wanted to propose a brand new idea that came to me a couple of nights ago while I was drafting promotional content. Anytime idols release a new album or music, it gets published on YouTube, right?"

He nods, curious on where you're heading. "Right."

"Why don't we start a talk show with you as the host Yoongi-ssi? It can allow your fans to see another side of you, as well as the general public. We can invite your BTS members as guests where you can discuss music or past challenges that you've had to overcome—the choice is yours. To make it more interesting for viewers, you can have these frank conversations over a glass of whiskey or soju."

"I like the idea," he says, weighing it in his mind. "What would the timeline look like for this?"

"If we move forward with the idea, I suggest December 5th and we continue it for a max of two months. I know that only leaves us with just under two weeks to get started, but creating the set shouldn't take more an a day or a day and a half. We can also easily shoot a 30 to 60-minute video in an afternoon and publish it on YouTube the following week. Of course, a preview of the show will need to go out beforehand."

"Would we be able to invite other guests to the show? Outside of my members, I mean."

"Yes, feel free to invite whoever you'd like. We can start with the member for the first several episodes but ultimately, welcoming a variety of guests from the same or differing industries would be the goal."

"If I may." A member of the social media team suddenly joins the discussion, "I think Kim Namjoon-nim might be a good person to feature first since Indigo releases December 2nd."

Yoongi nods in agreement. "I can ask him."

"That would be fantastic, actually. If his availability is limited, we could have him guest star for the second or third episode instead," you add. "Hoseok released Jack in the Box this summer so we could have him be the first guest as well."

"Do we have a name yet?"

"Suchwita," you answer without hesitation. "It's a play on words with Daechwita."

"Suchwita..." Yoongi repeats, "Time to get drunk." He chuckles at the last few words, amusing the room, but you remain contemplative.

"How about Suchwita...time to drink with Suga, instead? It's simple and has a slight whimsical nature."

"Sure, let's use that," he answers, noticing that you've already begun jotting down the idea. "Yours is better."

Despite the adrenaline from the productive meeting with you and your team, Yoongi still feels the weight of his sleepless nights bearing down on him. His headache remains relentless and he is in dire need of a moment to himself. Once the team disperses, he slips his phone into his pocket and makes his way outside. The crisp, early morning air should offer him some relief, along with the pack of cigarettes tucked in his pocket.

When he reaches the building's designated smoking area, Yoongi takes out a cigarette and lights it, taking a deep drag as he leans against the cool brick wall. As he exhales, watching the smoke dissipate into the clear sky, his thoughts drift back to the meeting. The idea of hosting a talk show, "Suchwita...time to drink with Suga," still lingers in his mind. It’s an intriguing concept, and he can already envision the relaxed, candid conversations that could come from it.

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching on the ground nearby.

"Oh, Yoongi-ssi," you say with alarm, obviously startled by his presence. "I didn't mean to interrupt you. I'll come back lat-"

"There's no need for that. Join me if you'd like." Yoongi watches as you hesitate to accept his offer, your feet already positioned to head back inside the building. "Seriously, there's plenty of room, and no matter what they'll tell you, I don't bite."

He allows himself to smirk as you carefully move beside him, only stopping when there is at least two feet of space between you both.

"Thanks," you say, pulling out your own pack of cigarettes and lighting one. "I needed a break too."

"Rough morning?"

"Just busy," you reply, leaning against the wall next to him. "But the meeting went well. We should be able to get the ball rolling now that we have a more finalized plan. I'm glad you liked the idea of starting Suchwita, by the way."

"I do," Yoongi says, nodding. "It has a lot of potential and I'm sure Namjoon will be more than happy to help us out. He's a natural at this kind of stuff. I guess it's why he's our band leader."

"You know you're good at all of this too, don't you, Yoongi-ssi?" You pause, taking a puff of your cigarette. "Even when you have a lot on your mind and a packed schedule, you have a knack for making people feel at ease. It's why I think producing Suchwita will be such a great way to connect with fans and other artists—you'll be the host."

He chuckles, appreciative of the remark. "You really think that? That I make people feel at ease? It's not what a lot of people assume."

"Nah," you reply, tilting your head up toward the clouds. "They're just on the outside looking in. Those who know you, who are around you and talk to you, will agree that you're a pretty calming presence."

"Well, I think we're not so different then." Yoongi shifts his eyes to your face, still looking up at the sky, and smiles softly. "So, what made you come to BigHit? Didn't you say you worked for Atlantic Records? That's a pretty good gig."

"Yeah, it was. I learned a lot there, and man, I was thrilled when I got offered the job as a brand manager. I've always loved music, ever since I was a kid. I could connect so intimately with the lyrics. Music is one of the few things that could soothe me during rough times, and it still does today. I'm sure you can understand."

Yoongi nods, intent on listening to your every word, intrigued by your story.

"Anyway, sorry about getting long-winded here" you chuckle. "I ultimately decided to move on when Bang PD reached out and offered me the marketing manager position for TXT. It gave me the chance to be a more integral part of bringing music to individuals who need it most. It's like we say, 'music for art and healing.' I'd never had the opportunity to manage a completely new set of musicians before either, let alone a group. Plus, being on the global marketing team? I couldn't turn it down."

"It makes sense why you joined us then, and I have to say, it's a blessing you did too. Music is a way of communication for me, a way I can best express my story. That includes my past, present, and hopefully future. After hearing all you shared, I don't think there's anyone else I'd trust with handling my album promos." Yoongi pauses a moment, unsure if he should ask the next thing on his mind. "How come we never met before? I mean really meet and talk?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure myself. But things have a way of falling into place when the time is right, I suppose." You're now looking at him, the intensity of your gaze mirrors his own. A gentle breeze tousles a few strands of your hair and for a split moment, Yoongi begins to understand what Taehyung meant earlier when he said it feels like he's known you his whole life, like a childhood friend he'd reconnected with. While it may not be to that extent for himself, there's a comforting warmth emanating from you that leaves him feeling strangely tranquil.

"Given the circumstances, I feel like we should have at least met through Taehyung by now," he slips out. "Or even at a company-sponsored event."

"Why, do you like me that much, Yoongi-ssi? After five days of working together?" Your playful tease catches him off guard, revealing a side of you he hadn't seen before. It's kind of cute-wait, what?

"I-"

"Sorry," you quickly interject, feeling the need to backtrack. "I shouldn't have said it like that."

"Don't worry, there's no need for apologies. And to answer your question, I like you enough." He hopes you can hear the tease in his own tone as he responds.

You both lapse into a comfortable silence for the next few minutes, the only sounds being the distant hum of traffic and the occasional chirp of a bird. He finds all of it soothing in a way he can't quite explain.

After a few minutes, you turn to him, your expression thoughtful. "You know, if you ever need to talk or just need a break, I'm here. We're teammates now."

Yoongi looks at you, his tired eyes softening with gratitude. "Thanks, __-ssi."

You give him a reassuring smile before pushing off the wall. "I'll let you finish your cigarette. See you later? And by later, I likely mean at 9 or 10 pm in our company elevator."

"Yeah, see you later," he laughs, watching as you walk back toward the building. He takes one last inhale, extinguishing the cigarette and letting the remaining smoke escape his lips slowly.

Yeah, he likes you just enough.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed it! Lmk what you think 🥰

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[allthelovehes]

Unholy*

Summary: You follow a course through your job and the teacher who's giving the course is everything you've ever dreamed of.

Pairing: teacher!harry x reader

Word count: 6.2K

Warnings: Pussy eating, protective sex, squirting, p in v.

A/N:  This is partially based on a true story. Nearly everything but the smut is what actually happened and I just had to write it.

Ever since starting your new job, you must attend an internal program at headquarters for three-ish months, completely designed to train you for all the ins and outs of your position. It’s not like you have to go there every single week. But you have a perfect little schedule; you go to headquarters two weeks in a row, two days a week followed by a week where you practice all you’ve learned. Then two weeks of your training, two days a week and you repeat it over and over again for 11 weeks total. 

Since headquarters is an hour and fifteen-minute drive from your home, they offer you to stay the night at a hotel near them so you don’t have to keep on driving back and forth. They also pay for your dinner in the restaurant of the hotel and since you’re not the only student taking the course who lives relatively far away, you made some friends and all eat together. After dinner, you all hang out, down a few more glasses of chardonnay, and have a great night. 

The course itself is presented by two men, Chris and Harry. Chris is a couple of years older than you are and Harry is roughly the same age. Both of them are a treat to look at so whether you like the course or not, there’s always something interesting to occupy your brain with. Although if you’re truly honest, you do have a favorite and it gets worse when the end of the three months is in sight.

***

It’s the second to last week of your program. Normally you travel by train, read a book while you’re at it, and enjoy the peaceful start of your day. But today was different, you’re a bit in a hurry and decide to take your car and make the long ride yourself. Putting up some music and singing along at the top of your lungs.

Traffic isn’t as bad as you expected and instead of being stuck in your car for over two hours, it only took one and half hours. Normally the route is packed with traffic, causing a lot of slow-riding cars and traffic jams. But again, today was different.

Being 55 minutes early before the start of your training, you’re left with some more time to yourself. The book you normally would read on the train is in your bag anyway. So you grab a cup of coffee, pull the book out of your bag, and start reading to somehow still get a bit of the quiet morning you’re used to. 

You just finished reading your chapter when the door of the room swings open. You look up and your eyes meet the pretty green eyes you’ve grown to adore. You never imagined you’d still crush as hard at 26 as you did at 16. It’s like the teen inside you is awakened by Harry’s chocolate curls, green eyes, and puffy lips. 

“Good morning!” You greet him.

“Good morning. You’re early!” He chirps with a warm smile on his face. He always seems cheerful, just happy to be here. It makes you feel so welcome in this company. “How long have you been here for?” He adds.

“Not more than 15 minutes I think, honestly didn’t really track time.” You answer.

“Did the elevator work when you got here? I just had to climb the stairs.” He continues, there’s not even a shortness of breath even though he just climbed all 17 flights of stairs to reach the level on which the company is located. 

“You’re kidding! How are you still breathing?” You joke, but you’re actually not kidding. If you had to walk all those stairs, you’d be out of breath by the time you reach the 5th floor. Harry however just laughs at your statement before he puts down his backpack behind his desk. 

He made up this little routine of settling down for the day. First, he places down his backpack and takes out his laptop. Then he opens his laptop to boot it before he pulls his sweater over his head. This man doesn’t like to wear coats, he just puts a sweater on top of his outfit and uses that to keep himself warm. 

You thought you sort of removed him from your mind after not seeing him for a couple of weeks. Harry went on a well-deserved vacation and Chris took over during that time. So the last time you actually saw Harry was 5 weeks ago. But the second he pulled that sweater of his over his head, pulling his shirt a tiny bit upwards in the process had you melting right in front of him. The waistband of his boxers peeks out from his pants. You immediately recognize the brand he’s wearing by the colorful print on them. And let’s not even get started about his delicious happy trail. It’s a good thing his view is blocked by the fabric of his sweater because you for sure are struggling to keep your eyes to yourself.

“So, would you like some coffee?” He suggests as he folds his sweater over the back of his chair. You’re quick to agree on his offer. “Cappuccino right?” 

“Yes, please! I’m surprised you remember how I like my coffee.” You giggle, feeling a blush creep upon your cheeks. 

***

Throughout the entire day, you can’t help but notice how Harry’s eyes meet yours a lot more often than he does with your classmates. Whenever you look at him, his eyes are already on yours. He compliments you when you’re working on assignments and you just feel like there’s a mutual connection there. 

His distance to headquarters is even bigger than yours, so they offered him a similar deal as they did you. If he has to work multiple days in a row, he can stay the night in between in the same hotel as you all do. He gladly took upon the offer, for him it’s at least a two-hour ride home and that’s if he doesn’t include traffic. And since he works 5 days a week, it’ll save him a lot of time.

During the lunch break, you and your friends are making plans for the evening. Many of your nights in the hotel are spent drinking some wine and just catching up with each other. And today’s plans are like no other. Harry can’t help but overhear you guys talking about the hotel and starts bragging about the room they gave him. 

“I slept in room 405 last week. Apparently, all rooms on the fourth floor are deluxe rooms with a bathtub, double bed instead of a twin bed, and a filled mini fridge.” He joins your conversation, immediately planting the idea of asking for room 405 when you check into the hotel later today.

“I never had a bathtub during any of my stays. But all six times I slept in that hotel, I never slept on the fourth floor.” You reply.

“Don’t worry, you’re not missing out. The tubs are too small anyways.” He reassures.

“Your legs are just too long to properly fit into any tub.” You pointed out. 

***

All of you enjoy your dinner together. Harry is always left at work for a bit longer after you’re done with the class so he can prepare for the next day or finish up some other leftover work. And to the question of whether he will join you all at the dining table, his answer is always the same. “If I make it in time, I’ll happily join.” 

And today was one of the days he made it in time. He sits next to you in the only chair that’s unoccupied. Your friend shoots a glance at you, and that’s when you realize she made sure you sat next to the empty spot.

All of you welcome him to the table before starting small talk.

“Oh, by the way, Harry, I meant to thank you for your advice.” You start causing a confused look on the man’s face.

“My advice?” He asks. “What did I tell you?”

“When I was checking in I asked for room 405 and now I ended up in a deluxe room just like you told us about earlier today.” You giggle.

“Hold on, what room are you in??” He asks, clearly even more confused than he was at the beginning of this conversation.

“407.” 

“Ah, right! You got me confused for a second as I am booked in room 405 again.” He explains. “So, we’re practically neighbors!” 

Your brain spins a bit at how coincidentally it is of you asking for the exact room Harry is in. And on top of that, you are indeed practically neighbors. Suddenly you feel glad that you aren’t actual neighbors for the night, cause the rooms are very noisy and there’s a dividing door between every other room, allowing them to connect two rooms if needed. You’re not sure what your nighttime activities will turn into, once you’re left alone in your hotel room with just your unholy thoughts of the man next to you. 

Your food gets served, you and Harry both choose a different dish. He chose the tilapia filet and you went for a steak. Both are served with some veggies and fries. 

“That steak looks good.” He says as he puts a bit of fish into his mouth. 

“Would you like to try some?” You ask him to which he agrees. His fork is all covered in the sauce that comes with the fish. So, you cut off a piece of steak and hold your fork out for him to take it. He hums softly as the taste of the steak hits his tastebuds, sending vibrations through your fork. 

Harry insists on you trying some of his fish too. So he cuts a piece of, similar as to how you did it and holds his fork out for you to try it. 

You’re not much of a fish eater but you can see how people like this particular dish. It’s good as far as how good fish get. 

***

After hanging out with your friends on the terras, drinking some wine. All of you decide to call it a night. It’s nearly 11 p.m., and all of you need to be up bright and early the next day for your course. 

You hop into the elevator together, all of you pressing different buttons for different floors. Soon enough you’re the last one standing as you’re the only one whose hotel room is located on the top floor, and Harry’s of course.

Your pace slows down when you reach room 405. A deep voice is heard on the other side of the door. This confirms your suspicions, Harry is still up. It seems like he is currently on the phone with someone as a one-sided conversation is heard from his room. You decide not to snoop around, for all you know he’ll walk out the door any second and see you lingering around his door. That’d be weird.

Once you reach your door, you open it with the card and enter the room. You were smart enough to turn on the air conditioning before heading down for dinner so the room was cooled perfectly. 

You let yourself fall backward on your bed with a deep sigh. This massive crush on what essentially is your teacher was unexpected. And now you’re full of nerves, jitter, and a lot of unholy thoughts to think about.

You open up your book and try to set your mind in another direction. You have to face the man you’re thinking about tomorrow and above all you need to be able to concentrate. 

After 45 minutes of reading your mind is still on the one topic it was before. So the plan to distract yourself failed miserably. The only other option you can consider is taking a cold shower, cause there’s no way in hell you can masturbate to the thought of him and look him in the eye tomorrow.

You hop into the shower. You start at your regular temperature and decrease the temperature with small steps to end with a cold shower. Your hands travel over your body and you notice how sensitive your skin is. You take some soap and spread it all over your skin. Once your hands reach your breasts you give some extra attention to your achy nipples, pinching them between your fingers. You moan softly, god that feels good.

You realize what you’re doing and stop immediately, turning the water ever colder causing you to nearly squeal at the temperature. You step out of the shower and wrap a towel around your body. 

As soon as you’re all dried up, you crawl back into your bed and grab your phone to scroll mindlessly through TikTok. First, you clear your notifications but you notice one particular Instagram notification that catches your eye.

harrystyles liked your story 8m ago

It’s fucking past midnight, what is this man liking your Instagram story for?? As if you weren’t thinking about him enough already. 

You decide to get out of bed and go outside for a little midnight stroll. The cool and fresh air will do you good. You take your AirPods out of your bag so you can listen to some music while you're at it. 

You’ve been walking for about 25 minutes when you step back into the elevator and press the button to the fourth floor. Harry has finally disappeared from your mind, I mean, he’s still there but just less present. You are tired and just need your sleep.

Room 407 is two-thirds down the hall, luckily the floor is covered with carpet so your feet don’t make as much sound. You don’t want to wake anyone up at this ungodly hour. Nerves kick back in the closer you get to room 405. What if he’s still awake, or what if you woke him up when your door fell closed on your way out?

The sound of a door opening is heard and you’re too afraid to take your eyes off the floor. It takes every bit of strength in you to lift your head up, but when you finally do, your eyes are met with the ones you’ve been thinking about all night. He’s changed out of his dress pants and blouse and into a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants.

“Oh, hi.” You mumble. Fuck, you think. You did wake him up on your way out. And now he’s here to complain about it.

“Hi.” He replies in a whisper. Harry heard you walk through the hallway, at least he was hoping it was you. But now that he’s standing eye to eye with you, he suddenly becomes nervous and doesn’t know what to say.

“I hope I didn’t wake you up when I left my room.” You apologize. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been struggling to fall asleep anyway.” “Yeah, me too. I’m gonna go give it another try though.” You point to your door, gesturing for you to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait!” Harry whisper-yells. “I- uhm. Do yo- uh.” He stumbles over his words. You turn your body back to him, looking at him with your big eyes.

“Do you wanna come with me to my room?” He finally asks and he holds out his hand for you to grab. You’re taken by surprise but after looking at him for a bit too long you grab his hand with a little nod and let him lead the way. 

He closes his fingers around yours and takes a couple of steps back to his room, opening the door with his room key. He steps inside the room, holds the door open, and pulls you in by your hand. The door is slammed closed right after you’re through the opening and Harry's strong arms push you against the door. 

“Hi.” He says giddy when looking at your lips, earning a smile from you.

“Oh fuck, just kiss me already.” You demand, and he is eager to please. 

His lips crash onto yours and his tongue slips inside your mouth. He’s gentle but demanding, it’s nothing like you ever thought it would be. This kiss makes you realize what people mean by melting when they’re being kissed. It’s like every inch of your body becomes one with his.

Your fingers graze his hair, pulling him closer as his hands find their place on your hips. He pushes his body flush against yours, earning a moan from your lips. The fingers of his right hand sneak under the hem of your shirt to dig into your skin. 

He pulls away after what feels like minutes of making out, panting slightly. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt and he looks down.

“Can I?” He asks to which you agree. Your shirt is pulled over your head in a swift motion, revealing your peach-coloured bra. Suddenly you feel glad you decided to put on a bra when you went for a walk because you nearly decided to not wear one.

“Fuck.” He moans at the sight of you. His hand comes up to cup your left breast through the padding of your bra. “You’re so beautiful.” He kisses your neck, up to your ear. You gain confidence from his words and let your hands travel over his chest, down his sides all the way to the hem of his own shirt. You look him in the eyes for permission. 

“Do it.” He whispers in your ear while he keeps on kissing every inch of your ear, neck, and jawline. You pull the shirt over his head revealing his perfect abs. You can’t help but put one hand flat on his stomach to feel his muscles and moan softly. Your eyes meet his and he has a beautiful smile plastered across his lips. 

His lips are back on yours and his fingers hook in the waistband of your jeans. He’s greedy to get you out of your clothes as soon as possible. He opens the button. His left hand grabs your face and he kisses you passionately on your lips as he puts his right hand in the back of your jeans to squeeze your bum. 

“Hmm, you feel so good.” He squeezes your flesh one more time before he pushes the fabric over your ass. You step out of your jeans and push him further into the room. Your lips reconnect. 

Harry leads you to the chair in the corner of the room and pushes you down in the chair. Your eyes fall down his body and stay glued to the tent starting to form in his sweatpants. His fingers wrap underneath your chin to pull your face up. 

“Eyes up here, baby.” He says. He spreads your legs to stand in between them and strokes his hand over your inner thighs, to your stomach, and up to your lips. He puts his thumb against your lips with his fingers resting on your cheek. You open your lips and softly suck on his thumb getting it slightly moist. 

He takes his finger back out of your mouth and his hands explore down to your chest. Both hands grab one boob each and massage your skin through your bra. He makes sure to flick his thumbs over your hardening nipples every now and then. 

You sink further down into the chair, practically laying on your back with your bum on the edge of the seat. Your feet are tucked around his waist and your legs are spread open to reveal your clothed crotch. Harry is standing right in front of the chair, causing his crotch to gaze over your most sensitive spot when he moves close enough. 

You moan at the pressure he’s applying to your chest. His big hands fit perfectly around your tits and it’s all you’ve been thinking about. Well, not all, but you get the point.

He pulls down the cups of your bra, to expose your breasts. Your nipples are hard and needy. His lips attach to your right nipple to suck on them before he lets go and gently strokes his fingers down your stomach, back towards your inner thighs. The soft touch of his fingertips tickles, sending a buzzing feeling straight to your clit.

He kneels in front of the chair you’re sitting on and wraps his hands around your waist. He places a couple of kisses on your thighs, right next to your core. But never touching where you need it most. He’s making you all needy, drawing moan after moan. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Harry asks. But the view in front of him already gives him the answer he is looking for. You’re dripping through your panties, completely ruining them and every touch is rewarded with another moan coming from your lips.

“Mhm, fuck yes.” You half moan.

Harry finally places a kiss on the wet spot forming on your panties. You immediately put your hand in his hair. After a few more open-mouthed kisses on top of the fabric, he finally pulls them to the side. He lets out a low moan at the sight and smell in front of him. 

He attaches his lips to your core, leaving another open-mouthed kiss on your labia before he sucks the juices into his mouth. Another loud moan escapes his lips, you’re sure anyone who’d walk by would be able to hear the both of you.

“You taste so fucking good, baby.” Harry moans. He pushes your panties further to the side and you help him hold them there, giving him full access to taste every single inch of you. He licks up from your bottom all the way to your clit and you can’t help but whine. He continues to gently lick around your clitoris, making sure not to apply too much pressure at once. It feels like pure ecstasy. 

His hands stroke the insides of your thighs again while they travel to your core. With two hands, he spreads you open to allow him to stick his tongue inside of you. He pushes in and out of you a few times before his tongue travels back to your clit. Licking and sucking softly, building up the pressure. He for sure is taking his time with you. His eyes are locked on yours to gauge what you like and don’t like. But so far you seem to have entered another world. With your left hand locked in his hair and your head thrown back.

Harry starts to put more pressure on your clit with his tongue making you all squirmish. Your soft moans go up in loudness. His lips leave your clit but his finger is quick to stroke circles around it before he inserts his finger into your pussy hitting you right on that spongy part. His finger pushes in and out of you and his tongue gently swipes from left to right. 

He applies even more pressure to your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud every now and then. His one finger inside of you pumps in and out, building up a faster pace. More juices start to spill from your pussy so he licks from down all the way up to your clit again to collect your wetness and slurp it all up. It’s a sign you’re coming close to your orgasm. Your legs start shaking around his shoulders and he continues his work, going faster and sucking harder.

Soon you can’t contain your moans and your orgasm hits you harder than it has ever done before. Harry’s fingers don’t seem to slow down though, and his tongue is still attached to your sensitive clit. Your moans turn into high-pitched whines mixed with curse words falling from your lips.

“Fucking hell, please” You moan, trying to push his face away from your cunt. His finger falls from your pussy and he softly caresses your mount with a flat hand, his lips are still attached to your clit but he stopped sucking as he moans loudly. The vibrations of the sounds he’s making shoot right through your body. He completely removes his face from you and wipes the wetness from his chin. 

“God, I wanna do that again. You sound so fucking pretty.” He tells you before he connects his lips to yours. The tangy taste of yourself is all you can focus on, making you feel dizzy. 

Harry looks you up and down. He gets up off his knees so he can finally drop his sweats to the floor. The erection in his loose-fit boxers makes you curious, but it gives you a good idea of how big he is. 

He holds out his hand for you to help you get up from the chair. His arms wrap around your body once you’re on your feet and he kisses you deeply. His hands take hold underneath your bum. 

“Jump.” He commands and you listen without a second thought. You wrap your arms around his middle and his erection softly presses into your core. You moan and nestle your face into his neck. Your hips try to grind down on him, although you’re not as successful as you’d hoped. Harry walks to the end of the bed to place you down. 

“Let’s get you out of these.” You say as you put your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. You pull them down so he can step out of them. He pushes you on your shoulders, tipping you over so you’re lying on your back and his hands hold your knees to spread them open again. With one hand he pumps his cock a few times and with the other, he pushes your panties back to the side before he pushes the tip of his cock through your folds. 

“Shit, a condom.” He curses. “I don’t know if I have one.” He says honestly. It’s not like he thought he was getting laid during his work trip so he didn’t pack any. He rushes to his wallet in hopes of finding one in there. He opens the coin section and is happy to be greeted by a silver foil. He takes it out before he returns to you and puts on the protection. 

He goes back to what he started. He rubs the tip of his now rubber-covered cock over your clit, stimulating the sensitive nub. You immediately are a moany-mess again before he slides his tip down and inters your cunt. He pushes in and out, going deeper with every thrust. His thrusts are gentle as he knows you’re close to being overstimulated. 

His hands hold your thighs down before he starts moving back and forth at a faster pace. He bends down to attack your right nipple with his mouth. He sucks sharply and licks over the hard bump. 

The bed starts squeaking loudly when he holds you down around your hips to be able to fuck up into you faster. His skin slaps against yours making the most erotic sounds audible in the hallway and possibly in the neighboring rooms. 

Harry wraps his hand around your neck, not really applying pressure but just holding you in place as he trusts into you slower but with more power. Smacking his pelvis against your clit with every trust. Your panties slipped back down covering half your labia again. 

“Let’s get these out of the way.” You laugh. Harry pulls out so you’re able to remove your underwear but he’s back inside of you as soon as possible. He’s bucking up, trying to hit your G-spot every time he pushes in. And he knows he’s doing a good job as your moans went up a pitch again. 

He grabs your hips and keeps fucking you hitting your G-spot hard every, single, time. The trusts change from hard and deep to soft and fast. Giving you a whole other sensation. He keeps switching between the two different paces until he finds you squirming underneath him again. He bucks his hips hard and deep into you and after a few more trusts you reach your second orgasm, screaming and squirting all over him. 

You were about to apologize but Harry has already attached his lips to your cunt to lick up all the leftover juices. He’s moaning loudly as he’s trying to clean you up. Your own moans become quieter and turn into soft hums as you nestle your hand into his hair, grabbing him tightly. 

He starts assaulting your clit like he used to when you were sitting in the chair. His tongue is doing wonders on your overstimulated clit and it only takes a couple of strokes of his wet muscle to get you to reach your height again. This time however it feels shorter and less intensive, but still your moans picked up again. It’s like music to Harry’s ears.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so fucking perfect.” He moans, kissing you sloppily. His hips meet yours and both of you hum to the feeling. Harry takes a hold of his cock and guides it back inside of you. His hips grind over yours, giving you way too much stimulation but god does it feel good. 

He places his left foot on the bed next to your bum and starts pounding into you. He puts one of his hands on top of your mouth as you can’t contain any of the sounds you’re making. Harry knows it’s already too late when it comes to waking up the neighbors but he doesn’t wanna keep bothering them all night.

Never have you been fucked this hard, fast, and deep all at the same time. It’s starting to feel overwhelming and you can’t stop whining at how good you feel. Harry keeps miraculously pounding into you as he starts to moan loudly himself as well. 

His moans send shivers down your spine, he sounds otherworldly. The deeper his moans get, the sloppier his trusts become. He spills all of his cum inside of the condom before his moans quiet down and he pulls out. He’s panting loudly and he gently swats the back of your thigh twice. He rubs his cock up and down your pussy one more time before he kneels down again and licks your pussy clean. 

“Stay where you are.” He says and places a quick kiss on your lips. He walks to the bathroom to toss the condom and grab a damp towel to properly clean you up. He dabs the lukewarm towel to your overstimulated core and softly strokes the fabric down once or twice. He puts the towel down on the floor where all of your juices squirted in an attempt to minimize the mess.

“There, now let’s get comfy.” He says and gets into bed. “Do you want a shirt?” He asks to which you nod. He gets up to grab his white tee from before and hands it to you. It smells deliciously like his skin in the best way possible. You put it on and it reaches up to your upper thigh. 

Harry lays back down in bed and you crawl next to him. He naturally opens his arms for you to cuddle up to him. 

“I‘ve never been fucked that good.” You chuckle as you take a deep breath. The room smells and looks like sex but neither of you seems to care. 

“Hmm, you felt so good.” Harry’s ego boosts at your comment. And if he’s honest, he’s never been with someone he enjoyed so much and he simply can’t wait to do it again. “I hope you’re going to stay the rest of the night, right?” He asks. 

“I didn’t plan on getting up, I’m way too comfortable here.” You reply to which Harry only pulls you in closer. He places a soft kiss on your forehead with a soft hum. 

“Goodnight, baby.” He whispers to which you answer a simple goodnight. 

***

You wake up the next morning with Harry’s body wrapped around yours. The sound of your alarm was ringing from the nightstand. It’s a good thing you charged your phone last night when you were trying to sleep otherwise it would’ve been out of power and therefore not been awakened. 

“What time is it?” Harry asks, his voice low and sexy as he’d just woken up. 

“7:30.” You answer, to which he shoots up. 

“Shit, I forgot to set my alarm. I need to be at work in an hour.” He sighs, but actually, he doesn’t really care. He has the most beautiful girl lying in his bed, breakfast can wait for once and he can also head to work half an hour later, he already prepared everything for today anyway. 

He lays back down and rolls on his side to face you. 

“Hi.” He says. 

“Hi.” You reply, and both of you laugh softly. 

“So, I hope you have no regrets from last night. I didn’t mean to push you into anything you didn’t want.” Harry says, to which you take his face between your hands to pull him closer. You connect your lips to his. 

“Not one single bit.” You reply before Harry deepens the kiss. His cock is already hard, as most men wake up with an erect member. But the beautiful girl in his T-shirt next to him is making him lose his mind. 

His hands travel down her side and cup her pussy. One finger gently slides between her already damp lips and rubs circles around her clit. 

“Har, we don’t have time for this.” You whine and he knows you're right. He sighs before he takes his fingers back from your pussy and licks the tip of his finger clean. 

“I’m sorry. You’re just irresistible.” He flirts. 

“It’s gonna be a long day then.” You joke, neither of you had thought about having to go through today and act like nothing has happened. 

“We’ll see about that.” He argues as if he doesn’t think there’s going to be a lot of tension. “Let’s just get ready for breakfast.” He says and gets out of bed to get dressed. 

You sit up and think for a bit. All your stuff is two rooms down the hall and you don’t feel like getting into your nasty clothes from the day before, especially those panties which are ruined. 

“Can I borrow your sweatpants for a bit?” You ask Harry. “I need to go to my room to get ready.” You explain. He grabs his sweats off the floor and hands them to you. You’re now wearing the complete outfit Harry was wearing when he pulled you into his room. 

“I’ll see you in a few minutes.” You say before kissing him once again and head out to your own room. 

You took a quick shower to rinse off the sweat of the night before, brushed your teeth, and got dressed in a fresh set of clothing. 

When you’re all set and ready, you grab your room key and exit your room. You walk the short distance down the hallway to Harry’s room and raise your hand to knock on his door but he already has it opened before your hand can hit the wood. 

“Let’s go get some fuel.” He says and grabs you by your hand. He leads you all the way to the elevator. He pressed the button to the ground floor where the breakfast buffet was. 

The elevator stops at the second floor. You quickly pull your hand back as you know there are classmates sleeping on that same floor. And since Harry and you haven’t discussed anything about how to move forward, you’d rather not get the confrontation in the middle of an elevator. However, luckily it wasn’t someone either of you knew. 

Once the both of you enter the restaurant, Harry a few steps ahead of you, you notice all your classmates who also slept in the same hotel already sitting at your designated table. 

“Wow Harry, we thought you had already left. You’ve never been this late before.” One of them recalls. 

“Yeah, you’re always the first to eat and the first to leave.” Someone else joins in. 

You don’t know where to look or what to say. It feels like getting caught as you are well aware of the reason why Harry hasn’t eaten yet. Both of you decide to go fill up a plate with a delicious breakfast and just try to ignore the comments. 

“I feel like we’re already getting caught.” You tell him as you stand next to him putting some eggs on your plate. 

“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, there’s no way for them to know.” He reassures. 

You sit back at the table before Harry does. He’s in line for the coffee machine. 

Your friend looks at you. “Spill. The. Tea.” She mouths so no one can hear, but you can see. You giggle to yourself and shake your head no. But she just knows something is up. 

Harry walks back to the table with two cups of coffee. He puts the black coffee in front of himself and the cappuccino next to your plate. 

“Thank you, ba-“ You quickly stopped saying what you wanted to say, hoping no one had noticed. You look around the table but there are no suspicious looks. Harry places his hand on your knee and squeezes softly. 

“You’re welcome.” He says. 

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

[gyusrose]

➵ 5-star michelin -> p.js

⚠︎ smut (mdni) , sprinkle of angst

✎ teacher!jay x student, slight age gap (25 & 23), jay is kinda mean, dom!jay + sub!reader, jealous!jay, praising, dirty talk

summary: achieving your dream of becoming a chef is not easy, even worse when your teacher’s always up your ass.

{btw! i don’t cook like at all so bear with me 🙏}

(non!idol jay x fem.reader)

~ late christmas + new year’s gift *ੈ✩‧₊˚🥂*ੈ✩‧₊˚

wc: 4.2k

you love the kitchen, you pretty much live there day and night. it’s no surprise to anyone that your dream job is eventually becoming a real chef. that’s why you’ve spent almost your whole life perfecting the one skill you’re good at. most of the recipes you use come from your mom. before she passed she left a whole book of recipes in it and what a hell of a good time you had with it.

it helped you cope, that’s what drove it. you feel sad? make something yummy. you feel mad? bake something nice. you feel happy? cool something delicious. your problems seemed to fade away while your cooking.

over the last year, you’ve started attending culinary school. obviously, you’re not perfect and you still need some work on your dishes but you’re not doing too bad to say the least. now though, it’s a new chapter opening for you.

you’ve been wanting to get out of your hometown for a while and move to the city as there were more opportunities down here and to your luck, you got accepted into a (very prestigious) culinary school nearby your apartment, a win-win situation.

like anyone, you were scared, scared to make new friends, scared to meet new people, scared to start from zero, a new place, a new routine. but it’s all for the better.

you sighed as you tied your apron around your waist, almost heading out the door to your first day of school. boxes were still unpacked all around your floor, it was a total mess, you literally slept on the floor last night. it was definitely not the best case scenario for a great morning but eh.

you finally caught your breath trying to calm down grabbing your tote bag and leaving your messy apartment.

the school was no more than five minutes away walking. at least you’re gonna be on time.

your entered the glass doors of the huge white building. the receptionist noticed you, you quickly showed her your ID, which they gave you during your orientation last week. she gave you a nod and you headed into the elevator, pressing the number 13.

your hands were shaking and sweaty. coming into a new school in the middle of the year has got to be the worst scenario for an introvert like you. you finally reached the room where the class will be taking place ( i genuinely don’t know what culinary school is like pls) as soon as you stepped in, all eyes were on you. including the head chef’s.

“you must be the new student right? happy first day you’re late.” one of them spoke, your cheeks couldn’t have become any redder than what they already were. you hated all the attention on you.

late? didn’t class start at 7:30? you thought.

“class started fifteen minutes ago, take a seat and catch up.” almost like he could read your mind he responded.

you muttered a low ‘sorry’ before heading onto an empty seat trying to take as much attention away from you. of course his happens to you.

you gathered all the ingredients you were told to get and set them on the table in front of you. mimicking what the other students were doing. as you weee doing that the chef came up to your side, an evident scowl noticed on his face.

it was until then you realized how handsome he was, he looked very young as well, not someone that you would expect to be a head chef. his jawline was sharper than the knife on your hand. you shook those thoughts away quickly though, he’s your teacher! what are you thinking?

“i’m just letting you know, whatever you did today can’t happen anymore, attendance is very important everyday, this is a very advanced class so you might not want to be missing any of it, got it?” even though he whispered, it felt like he was yelling at you. it was very aggressive and harsh making you flinch.

you quickly nodded, now scared of him even more. suddenly you want to change classes with another chef. finally leaving you let out a big sigh which you were holding in ever since he came over, and resumed cutting your vegetables and stir frying them.

“you need more seasoning on that, it’s too bland!” the chef, which you now you know as ‘Chef Park’ said as he tasted your chicken. you were almost sweating, from the way he speaks and acts, you felt nothing but intimidated by his presence, even more when he’s tasting your first dish for him. throughout the whole lesson today, he seemed to be only picking at you, he didn’t taste any of the other student’s food, only yours. you found it kind of irritating but tried not to think much about it.

“i’ll definitely note that chef.” you smiled at him bowing.

“ i’m expecting a lot from you, ______” he said before heading back to his space.

you were confused. why you? you’re probably the least talented person in this room right now so why you? you had so many questions but decided that maybe you just needed a good nights rest and starting packing up your stuff on your bag.

jay sighed at the empty room in front of him. it was currently 1 am, and he couldn’t find the urge to go home. he was just thinking, thinking about you.

he was the one that read your application into the school, he read your recommendation letters from your past teachers. you were put into his advanced class for a reason.

what he didn’t expect was the glory of a woman that was going to get in that door. it was as if the universe slapped his type right in front of him. that’s what he saw. how could someone look so beautiful in such a simple uniform? he also wonders that.

he can’t let down his demeanor though. yes he finds you attractive, but he can’t soften up just for you, that’s unfair to the rest of the students that have to put up with him. plus he hasn’t forgotten that he’s the teacher and you’re a student, it’s unethical for him to even be thinking of you in that way.

it’s been approximately a month since you’ve started going to this new school and to be honest, it was eating you up. chef park kept nit-picking everything you did, which honestly is what’s. teacher should do but not to that extent. you saw the way he was always looking your way when you were cooking. how he would yell at you across the room when you did something wrong ( even if other people were also doing it) it’s driving you insane to the point that you’re about to actually request for a change of teacher.

you were struggling to cook the steak to chef park’s desired temperature when you felt someone tap your shoulder. you turned your head around to see a boy. if you’re not mistaken his name is jake.

“i see you’re kind of struggling with that, there’s a trick i do that always manages to cook the steak to chef’s park liking. may i?” he asked if he could touch the knobs of your stove. you nodded and he turned the heat to the maximum for a few seconds, turning the steak over on both sides while bathing it in butter , then he turned it to low heat, repeating the same action.

jay obviously noticed this and did not appreciate it. he should be happy seeing another student sharing tips with you but that wasn’t the case this time. without thinking he walked over the two of your laughing figures.

“sim! it’s very inappropriate of you to be talking with your little friend when you should be cooking..”

“oh sorry chef park. i was just giving her a hand. i thought you wouldn’t mind.”

you looked at chef park, noticing his glaring eyes on jake. is it that bad for a student to help another student out?

“well i do! back to your place.” he said not sparing you a glance while jake decided to not respond back and just gave you an apologetic smile before heading off.

“alright everyone, that would be it for today, but don’t forget that by the end of the semester you’re gonna have to cook something of your own, impress me okay? “

as students left you decided to have a word with the chef, wanting to know if he just truly just didn’t like you or if he had a problem with you being here, so you could change chefs.

there was another girl talking to him before you. he acted so different with her, so respectful, kind and smiley. his face sours up every time he’s talking with you, so you barely see him smile and you almost melted at it.

“is there a problem miss ______?”

you jumped out of your other world and looked at him. suddenly feeling shy. you felt your confidence slip away as he was now looking straight at you, waiting for you to speak.

“ well-uh i’ve been noticing how harsh you’re on me compared to the other students, did i do something to cause that?”

jay was taken aback from your straightforwardness, but he responded either way.

“ you just need more toughness out on you _____, do you want to be mediocre?” he was lying through his teeth. jay knew you were if anything, the best of the class, he couldn’t just say that out loud.

you on the other hand, were crushed. was mediocre all he saw in you? have you been lied to by your other teachers?

“ is the yelling necessary though ? there’s way to effectively communicate without yelling.” you hated being yelled at. every time someone raised their voice at you, tears would just fall like a waterfall. thankfully, you’ve managed to hold in your tears during class so chef hasn’t seen you cry.

“are you questioning my teaching skills now? “

shit. now you offended him.

“n-no that’s not what i meant, i just-“

“you don’t think i’m a good teacher ?” he said getting up closer to you, pretty much standing inches in front of you. suddenly you felt your heartbeat fasten.

“i d-do chef, i just kind of find it unfair?” you said, trying to not stutter all your words.

jay smirked, now standing less than a feet in front of you, grabbing your chin and holding it up, making you look straight at him. jay could definitely see your rosy cheeks that you were so embarrassedly trying to hide.

“am i making you nervous miss _____?” you only gulped, you didn’t even know what to respond to that, even though it was bluntly obvious based on your state right now.

the both of you didn’t say anything for a moment, the two just stared at each other, waiting for one to make a move first.

you don’t know exactly where you got the guts to actually make the move. you engulfed your chef into a suffocating kiss. the kiss itself was enough to show how much y’all were yearning for each other. jay was dying to do this ever since he laid his eyes on you, but you on the other hand, didn’t know how much you actually wanted to do this until now. sure you found him handsome and smart and literally perfect but you never expected for him to think of you the same way to the point we’re he’s actually kissing you back and heating up the kiss you once started. his tongue grazed over your lip. his hands moved from your face to your waist, pulling you closer, melting into his embrace. your lips tasted so sweet, jay felt insatiable.

both of you forgot about the fact that this was very much not allowed. the world ceased to exist to exist at that moment. there were no boundaries, no constraints, just the two of you.

jay’s hand traveled down further and further, now down to your ass, giving it a light squeeze. the small action made you moan into his lips. even though your eyes were closed, you could feel him smirking at you.

your own hands travelled along his broad shoulders, down his shoulders. once again, confidence shot through you. your fingertips found their way to his belt buckle, about to undo it when his fingers wrapped around your wrist. stopping your movements.

“see you next class.” that’s all he said before gathering his things and leaving you there. high and dry.

that’s when you woke up. realizing what you were about to do, more like who you were about to do it with.

embarrassed. that’s what you were. he could literally lose his job what were you thinking?!

you let out a shaky sigh and left the empty room. all you need right now is a hot shower and sleep, you need to forget this ever happened. the worse thing is that tomorrow you still have to face him in class.

you knew showing up in the classroom that the two of you almost fucked in yesterday was going to be hard to show your face in. although no one noticed you, you just felt exposed. you refused to make eye contact with jay the whole time. jay definitely noticed this right away. he felt kind of bad in leaving you like that, but he knew that if he stayed there a little longer, he wouldn’t have controlled himself. he did think though, you looked kind of cute all shy and red, avoiding his eyes the whole class.

he took matters to his hands and approached you for the first time today, which was odd since he would’ve already yelled at you for something at this point.

“what are you working on miss ______?” his voice startled you, not even noticing he walked over to you.

“ just finishing the sauce for this.” you shortly said looking down at your food. jay’s stare didn’t leave your face once. and you could feel it very much. it felt hard to breathe at that moment. you have no doubt your face is boiling at his simple presence.

“ look at me when i’m speaking to you.” you didn’t want to. but he was still your teacher and the last thing you want to be is disrespectful so you looked at him. and god you wished you didn’t. those brown eyes have a world of its own. you found yourself staring at him shamelessly, forgetting he was speaking to you.

“are you even listening?” of course you weren’t yet you nodded assuringly.

“great then see you friday night.” you nodded but it took you a moments to realize what he said.

friday night? for what? this is what you get for daydreaming. embarrassingly, you asked him what he meant after you just told him you were listening to what he was saying.

jay chuckled and shook his head at your lie. “ i said if you were coming to the dinner i have set up for the class, since christmas is coming. and you responded yes, so you better be there miss ______.” he said with a smirk, palming your cheek. your eyes widened at his move. you looked around to see if anyone noticed, to your relief no one did as they were too focused on their food. “someone could’ve seen!” you whisper-shouted your chef. he just rolled his eyes and said “ just be there on friday, i have a gift for you.”

the last thing he said before walking away. you were left dumbfounded. what did any of that mean? you didn’t notice that you’ve doesn’t about 10 minutes just standing there thinking until you smelt something burning.

“your meat is overdone _____!!!” jake told you walking up to you turning the stove off.

shit.

you weren’t the one to like social events much. as a teenager, you barely went out with your friends. you were a proud nerd. always focused on school, that’s how you were thought to be, which explains how you’ve only made one friend (jake) ever since been here for months. now you’re gonna be forced to socialize for a whole evening.

you weren’t unprepared thankfully. you brought a couple of classy dresses with you, you could imagine that things like these were gonna happen. you eventually decided on a white silk dress. it was elegant yet comfortable for you. not too short or not too long as well. you decided to not do anything special with your hair and let it down.

you suddenly felt the urge to not go. the last person you want to see is your chef. you don’t see the point of going yet you kept doing your makeup, you just want to change into your pyjamas and lay in bed all night. a ding in your phone caught your attention, revealing a text message from jake.

-I’m here

it seemed like you have to go now. quickly you gathered your things and left your lot.

jay kept waiting and waiting. you was all he was waiting on. a bunch of people kept coming up and talking to him but he didn’t care. girls showed up trying to impress him, but nothing. he wanted you to come up to him, impress him.

what he didn’t expect is you coming in with some company. jake was obviously invited but not as your date, he thought. he could see his hand on your back as he said a few sorry’s for being late due to traffic. jay couldn’t focus on anything but you. what the fuck was jake saying to make you laugh so hard. was that on purpose? to see how he would react? jay couldn’t tell. it didn’t help how beautiful you looked tonight, more than usual. that fucker doesn’t get your beauty like he does.

the whole night jay kept quiet. stealing glances towards you and jake. when someone talked to him he kept his reposes dry. for a moment he could swear you stared at him.

jay didn’t miss when you stood up to go to the bathroom. he obviously took this opportunity to talk to you, if it wasn’t right now then it was never.

you left the bathroom, as a soon as you turned around, you were encaged. your breath hitched seeing who it was.

“c-chef?”

“oh please don’t act all innocent _____, i know what you’re trying to do.”

“i’m sorry..? i don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“coming in here with jake, wearing such tight dress showing off just enough to make me go crazy. do you realize how much power you have over me hm?”

you didn’t know what to respond to that. deep down you loved the way you made him feel. it was planned, at all, but it felt nice knowing how much little effort had an effect on him.

“ it’s not my fault that’s the way you think jay.” honourifics dropped. jay wasn’t expecting that response from you. the alcohol running through your blood was showing at the moment.

jay grabbed your neck and pulled you into a heated kiss. unlike your first kiss, this one was emerged in lust. both of your tongues entangled with each other. your hands rummaged through his hair pulling him closer to you.

all it took was a simple “wanna get out of here?” from jay for you to weaken in the knees, allowing your full submission to him.

“fuck jay, right ther-shit!” so much happened in the last thirty minutes, nothing could’ve prepared you to be eaten out by your teacher at that time.

you don’t even know how jay didn’t crash the car while driving to his house and completely stripping you in seconds. he ate your pussy like he’s been starving for months (which he was) your eyes rolled back, pulling his hair, engulfing him into you, wrapping your legs around his neck. jay was in fucking bliss.

“shit baby, you’re such a mess, so fucking sensitive.” he said pulling away from your cunt, earning a whine from you.

“such a desperate little brat. tell me, what do you want baby.” he said caressing your lips. you couldn’t stop biting them. from your angle, you could see everything of him. his sharp eyes staring down at you, his biceps, his chest, his abs, fuck you could cum right there.

“fuck me jay, i want you to use me.” unlike other instances, you didn’t break eye contact making him moan before grabbing your thighs and spreading them around his pelvis. your core was dying for his cock, it was noticible from how swollen it was.

jay rubbed his head along your folds before looking up at you for reassurance. you nodded, desperate written all over your face.

the first thrust in you was insane. the stretch felt like he was ripping up your insides. it was painful, a good type of pain. “fuck you’re so fucking big jay.” jay only groaned. he couldn’t even say anything, this was better than anything he could ever imagine.

once he was fully in he started to move in and out of your core, grabbing your waist, feeling himself in you. the crude sounds coming out of the both of you echoed throughout the house. jay’s hands played with your tits while you grabbed his waist, making sure he stays inside you as much possible.

“shit you’re so tight, that’s pussy’s all mine ain’t it?” his hand left your tits and started rubbing your clit while his thrusts turned very hostile you couldn’t even form words from the immense amount of pleasure.

“yes yes, it’s all your baby.”

jay didn’t think it could get better than this, but it did.

he flipped you over, now on all-fours, back arched. not wasting any time in fucking you from behind. he groped your ass, leaving his hand marks all over them.

you were about to explode when a ring could be heard, more specifically from your phone. you looked over it on the night stand seeing ‘jake’ displayed on the screen. shit you completely forgot that you just left him at the restaurant. you could call him back lat-

“answer it.” jay said from behind you sternly, fucking you even deeper.

“i don’t think i ca-“

“answer the fucking phone, it must be important.” as much as he didn’t like jake, it turned him on the way you could barely breath let alone speak while he’s fucking you restlessly.

you could barely talk but you managed to grab the phone and answer it, trying to sound as normal as possible.

“ sorry jake, i just wasn’t-hmp feeling well.” your hand went over your mouth to stop you from moaning into the phone. jay was just laughing in the background at your state right now.

“yea yea i-i’m so sorry, have f-fun though.” you nodded at his last sentence before hanging up and glaring at jay from behind you.

“fuck you!” you said then slamming your head into the pillow letting out muffled moans.

“i’m quite literally doing that baby.” you rolled your eyes in pleasure and annoyance. your orgasm was very close, even jay could feel the way you clench around him.

“fuck i’m cumming, so fucking close.” your weak voice said .

jay was on the same boat, he would’ve cum way earlier but it just felt so damn good, he wanted to treasure every moment.

“me too baby, c’mon cum all over my dick, do it baby.” that’s exactly what you did. your body twitched at the sudden feeling. your body going limp.

jay was also on edge, with a few more thrust he pulled out of you and came all over your back moaning in the process.

after the two of you balanced your breathing, jay laid next to you caressing your hair, the both of you were just giggling like little kids.

“so this was the gift you were talking about?”

[lovemyloveallmine]

THAT'S HER - a nrk smau 💌

"HYUNG THAT'S HER"

" who???" "THAT PRETTY ENGENE!!"

"WAIT THAT'S HER ?????"

PAIRING : idol!niki x idol!fem reader

SYNOPSIS : Nishimura riki aka niki, the maknae of the popular group enhypen never had a girlfriend but 4 months ago during his concert in america he saw the prettiest fan he had ever laid his eyes on. Yeah surely all engenes were pretty but this girl definetly caught his attention and safe to say after four months she is the only thing on his mind. What happens when he sees her again but now she's an kpop idol and what happens when they both get paired to mentor as judges in a dance survival show?

FEATURING : Enhypen , newjeans, yujin from le sserafim and more idols

GENRE : Crack, fluff, angst, bickering , broken humour

WARNINGS : Jake's age is slightly changed, suggestive jokes, kys jokes, cursing, let me know if there are more !!!

AERA'S NOTE : Hi everyone this is aera !! This is my first smau so please be kind as am just beginning. This is pure fiction totally made on my own, it has nothing to do with the idols in real life. I take pictures from pinterest <3.Feel free to correct me when you feel like as english is not my native language <3 I try my best to live upto your expections but if I can't am really sorry about that. Hope you enjoy 🫶🏻❤️‍🩹

TAGLIST :- @naijmi @eupherbia @kgneptun @kittyeij @imyourjoy0 @mrowwww @im-yn-suckers @ibsysbsfsunsbs @lillians-world-is-f1 @sunshinessky @hoondiors @babyy-bambii @nikipedia07

MASTERLIST

TEASER

PROFILE ONE - THE HOMOSEXUAL SUPPORTING CAST

PROFILE TWO THE IT GROUP

CHAPTER ONE Who let her out.

CHATER TWO We are changing the leader❤️

CHAPTER THREE Sleep with one eye open | part 2

CHAPTER FOUR She has a point tho

CHAPTER FIVE That's what I thought.

CHAPTER SIX ITS NOT A CRUSH

CHAPTER SEVEN My boy is winning at life

CHAPTER EIGHT Your mom deserves better

CHAPTER NINE That actually went well ?

CHAPTER TEN WHY TF AM I TRENDING ON TWITTER AGAIN

CHAPTER ELEVEN Let me pick u up.

CHAPTER TWELVE Lets pretend you're right

CHAPTER THIRTEEN I hope you embarrass yourself infront of him

CHAPTER FOURTEEN We are so goofy hehehe 😦

CHAPTER FIFTEEN AUSSIE HANGOUT PT 1 | PT 2

CHAPTER SIXTEEN Day 2 at the survival show

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN I did it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Great then

CHAPTER NINETEEN welcome jake

CHAPTER TWENTY fake date

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE that motherfucker

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO We lost her to a man 😔

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE Depressed but well dressed 🗣️🗣️🔥🔥

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR Trust me

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE #CHANGE THE CEO

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX WAR IS OVER

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN My girl 🫶🏻

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT FUCKING FINALLY

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE Open your door

CHAPTER THIRTY The end <3

Completed

© jakesgalxy

[libraryofolive]

impatience - chapter two

featuring: neighbour!Choso Kamo x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 6.1k

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It was only Choso, you reminded yourself. Just Cho. You guys had been neighbours for a few months now, and you’d become good friends at this point, so why were you so nervous? You had been pacing in front of your closet in your underwear (which in itself proved a challenge for you to choose - was wearing sexy underwear to presumptuous? You didn’t expect to go that far on a first date. But what if things did go that far, not that you would be complaining, and you were in your frumpy comfortable underwear? That could totally ruin the mood) for almost fifteen minutes now, displacing all of your nerves onto choosing an outfit for a dinner date you had agreed to almost two weeks ago now. Choso had apologised profusely that he wouldn’t be able to take you out for two weeks - Yuji’s uncle, his go to babysitter, had gone away, and he didn’t really want to leave Yuji with a stranger. You understood, but that meant you had had two weeks of building this date up in your head, over-sensationalising it in a way that did not help your nerves.

Red dress or black jumpsuit? The red dress hugged your curves better, but the black jumpsuit was look so good with those new heels you had just bought and were desperate to wear out for the first time. But if you wore the red one, you could wear an older pair of heels that you had managed to break in to the point of comfort - God, why was this so difficult? You eventually decided on the pretty red number, and could finally move onto doing your make up - painting on look that was your go-to for nicer events like this, not having to think that hard about it. But now that you had managed to stop fretting over your clothing for the night, general anxiety of what was to come settled back over you. What if you spilled food all over yourself and completely humiliated yourself in front of him? What if you run out of things to talk about? What if it was really awkward and your blossoming friendship was over forever and you were destined for awkward neighbourly interactions for the rest of you life?

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a knock on the door. You checked your phone - he was right on time. You opened the door, any greeting you might have had for your neighbour dying on your lips as you took him in. His dark, silky hair was out of his signature pigtails, and instead was loose, framing his face perfectly. He was in dark slacks and a white dress shirt, with his sleeves rolled up above his forearms. You audibly gulped at the sight of him - you already knew he was attractive. For crying out loud, you’d seen him half naked when Yuji had broken in to your apartment in the middle of the night, but damn. He cleaned up better than you could have imagined.

Choso was in a similar frame of mind when he saw you, too. Drinking in the curves that your dress framed oh so deliciously, the way your eye make up complimented the brightness of the eyes he could get lost in forever. There was a moment of silence as the two of you appreciated each other, both dressed up in a way the other had never seen before. The tension filled silence was broken by you inviting him in.

“So, erm, do you want to come in for a sec? You’re a bit early, I still need to put my shoes on and grab my bag.”

“Oh, erm, yeah.. sorry about that.” He looked sheepish as he followed you into your apartment, “Just couldn’t wait to see you.” Your heart sped at his words, biting your lip to avoid squealing at the nonchalant way he admitted to being excited just to see you. He had you giddy like a schoolgirl, a way you hadn’t ever felt before through your numerous blind dates and dating app hook ups. You went looking for your shoes, finding them buried at the bottom of your closet. Damn, I really haven’t been on a date in a while, you thought, seeing just how smothered they were under your pile of not-clean-but-not-quite-dirty clothes. You took them back into your living room, plopping onto a chair opposite Choso, who had situated himself onto your couch, where he always sat during visits with Yuji. He was sat awkwardly, almost hovering, as if he was unsure whether or not he could sit down. His hands were jittery in his lap, one leg shaking up and down - it almost calmed your own nerves to see that they were echoed in your neighbour. It proved that he cared about this just as much as you did, something you were certainly thankful for.

“You don’t have to be so nervous, Cho. I don’t bite.” You started as you slid your shoes onto your feet, “at least, not on the first date.” You looked up at him in time to see his face grow scarlet at the implications of your words, and his reaction had you grinning. Once you knew that your feelings towards him were reciprocated, flirting with him had become a favourite past time of yours, seeing how badly you could fluster him. It was revenge for every time he accidentally flustered you, you reasoned. Well, that and the fact that he looks adorable when he blushes, of course. Both your shoes were now on your feet and you stood up, clapping your hands.

“Ready to go?” You asked him, excitement taking over. Choso stood too, nodding, and then taking a deep breath. He was trying to ground himself, to stop himself succumbing to the nerves and running back into the safety of his own apartment. Choso had never really been one to date - sure, before he cared for Yuji full time, he had gone on the occasional first date, but he had never really liked anyone enough to have a long lasting relationship. He knew it was different for you, though. He didn’t know how to describe it other than his feelings being much deeper - it was as if you had seeped into his bones. When he was young, Choso’s quiet, and to an extent even off-putting aura had resulted in a struggle to make friends. Then Yuji came into his life, and all of a sudden he had someone to think about. Whether it was a toy that caught his eye in a shop window, or even just a funny cat video he knew Yuji would find hilarious, he saw his little brother in everything around him. And now, he was seeing you everywhere. He found himself smiling when he read your favourite dish on the menu, making a note to tell you about it later, or when he saw a trailer for a film you might like. If he was being honest with himself, it scared him, how quickly you had wormed your way inside his heart. He really didn’t want to screw this up.

The restaurant he had chosen was the perfect mix of intimate but atmospheric, with its exposed brick walls, warm lighting, and laughter ringing throughout. As you looked around, admiring it, Choso couldn’t help but admire you. The fairy lights that encapsulated the room reflected in your eyes like stars, adding to the twinkle that shined whenever you were happy. Choso admired that twinkle a lot; it always seemed to appear around him and his younger brother, and he found it breath-taking. You were shown to your table - Choso had apparently requested a window seat - and Choso, ever the gentlemen, pulled your chair out for you. You complimented his choice of restaurant, and he said he had scoured the internet for the best place. His usual go-to restaurants were much more child-friendly than the sophisticated establishment you were to dine in tonight, and he did not want your first date (hopefully of many) to be in a family restaurant.

The two of you ordered your drinks, and then you food, settling on sharing a starter before your main courses. The conversation flowed freely, and you basked in Choso’s company. But, as the two of you tucked into your appetizer, Choso’s phone went off.

“I’m so sorry, I could’ve sworn I put it on do not disturb.” He said as he fished around in his pocket for his device. His heart sank when he read the contact name, though. “I- I’m really sorry. It’s Yuji’s uncle - he’s staying there tonight. I really have to take this, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay. Yuji comes first, I get it.” You watched Choso listening to the man on the other end of the phone, his face falling. His brows furrowed, mouth downturned, as he spoke.

“No- I’ll come get him. He needs to go home. Y’know he’s fussy sleeping over sometimes anyway, he definitely won’t sleep now.” You couldn’t help but feel a twang of disappointment at the idea of your date finishing prematurely, but worry for the small boy overrided it. Your face was full of questions as Choso looked at you apologetically. “No, I’ll set off now. We’re probably about ten minutes away, just tell him I’ll be there soon. Yeah - see you in a sec. Just try to keep him calm, right, bye.” He hung up, putting his head in his hands.

“I- I’m sorry. Yuji, he’s not well, started throwing up. I need to go get him - is it okay if we go straight to him? It’ll take me an age if I drop you off first, and I don’t want you getting a taxi by yourself.” Pain, worry, and apology was etched into his face.

“Oh, Cho, don’t be silly. We’ll head straight there - how bad is it? Has he been unwell today? We could’ve rescheduled, y’know.” You flagged down a server, explaining that you had to leave early so wouldn’t be having your main courses, so could you please have the bill now. Choso answered you after they left, saying that he had been fine all day, and even excited about spending time with his uncle. The two of you hurriedly piled into your date’s car, barrelling towards his sick younger brother. The car ride was tense with worry, coming from the both of you. A date cut short was the last thing on your mind, which was instead filled with what could possibly be wrong with the younger of the two brothers.

The car eventually came to a halt, and you got out of the car with Choso. “What are you doing?” He asked as you followed him into the apartment complex his Uncle’s flat must be in.

“I’m coming with you - I mean, unless you want me to wait in the car. I thought you might want a hand, and I want to make sure Yuji’s okay for myself. If that’s okay?” Choso thought he might combust on the spot at your words. Anxiety over Yuji’s wellbeing laced them, and if it weren’t for the sick little boy in the building above the two of you, he might have considered how that affected his feelings towards you. They buried deeper into his bones as he saw your almost maternal care over his little brother, knowing that many potential partners would be less worried and much more upset over what could be described as a disaster of a first date. But now was not that time, so he just nodded at you and carried on walking.

He walked straight into what you assumed was Yuji’s uncle’s apartment, you following behind him sheepishly. He shouted for Yuji, and a reply came from the bathroom. Choso went straight in, and after a minute a large pink-haired man emerged. He was built like a brick wall, with dense muscle and a sinister look on his face, emphasised by almost alarming face tattoos. He was the definition of intimidating, and you were the intruder in this scenario.

“Who are you?” He grunted.

You told him your name. “I’m their neighbour.” You carried on explaining when your name elicited no reaction, “the one Choso was out with when you called.” He grunted again, and you were unsure what that meant. Did he know about you? Or were you just a strange woman he wanted out of his home? “Is Yuji okay?” You asked, trying to change the subject to something more familiar.

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” He said, not answering your question. You gulped, unsure on what to say. “What, nothing to say to that? But you were such a chatterbox a second ago.” He walked towards you, like a predator stalking towards its trapped prey. Your palms started sweating and you avoided eye contact, trying to look anywhere other than at the man in the room with you. He stopped just before you, close enough for you to be able to feel his breath on your face. “It’s rude to look away when someone’s talking to you.” He lifted his hand towards your chin, but was interrupted by a sniffled cry of your name.

You jumped backwards, away from the man whose name you didn’t even know. Your head whipped to the side, where you saw a shivering Yuji, one hand clutching a penguin plushie, the other holding tightly onto Choso’s hands. His face was tear stained, and he was pale - too pale. “Hi, Yuji.” You cooed, glad for the buffer between you and his uncle, “how’re you feeling, bud?”

“Not good.” His voice was devoid of the innocent joy it was usually overflowing with. You could hear the pain in it - and not just the nasal twang it had due to a stuffy nose. It heart your heart, to see such a bright boy all sickly. You crouched to his level before speaking again.

“Aw, I’m sorry. Why don’t Cho and I get you home, yeah? I bet you’ll feel better once we’ve tucked you into your own bed.” He just nodded, tucking himself into his older brother’s side. You opened your arms towards the boy, offering a hug, which he shyly accepted. You used the hug as leverage to lift him up with you as you stood, his legs instinctively wrapping around your waist. You heard Choso ask the other man for something to use as a sick bucket on the way home as you rubbed the back of Yuji’s head, trying to soothe him.

“Say bye to Sukuna, Yuji.” Choso said as the three of you made your way out of the apartment, the younger brother still in your arms.

“Bye, ‘Kuna.” He said over your shoulder, waving weakly with one hand.

“Bye, brat.” Your face soured at the name Sukuna had for his nephew, but you decided to stay quiet and ask Choso about it later. “Keep me updated with how he is, yeah?” Sukuna told Choso, “and I hope I’ll see more of you.” The last part of his speech was aimed at you, said with a sly grin that made you want to shiver. The door was closed on the three of you without any more of a goodbye.

You gently lifted Yuji into his car seat, trying not to jostle him too much in case it trigged another vomiting spree. You had decided it was best to sit in the back with him, keeping watch over him as his older brother drove the three of you home. Luckily, Yuji managed to keep anything left in his stomach down, the white noise of a car journey gently lulling him to sleep. You and Choso didn’t really speak more than Choso occasionally checking in during the car ride, but it wasn’t awkward. The two of you were just worried, not wanting to disturb the rest the young boy obviously needed. Upon arriving at your own apartment building, you followed Choso as he carried his younger brother into their apartment. You helped him open both his front door and Yuji’s bedroom door, him appreciating the thoughtfulness of the act. The two of you stayed in silence until Yuji was tucked into bed and his door was closed - Choso leaning his back against it and sighing.

“It’s been a disaster. We were supposed to have a nice evening, and everything went wrong. It was worse than a disaster, it was a catastrophe-”

“Oh, shut up.” There was no malice in your voice, but you had to interrupt Choso’s spiral. “You couldn’t have predicted this happening. And I had a very nice time up until Yuji spewing his guts up-” Choso cringed at your words, “so, no. It wasn’t a disaster. We can always reschedule, Cho.”

“I had it all planned out, and it was going so well-”

“Exactly, it was going so well. If anything, I got a taste of what a date with you is like, and it’s only made me hungrier for the whole thing.”

“Oh my God, you haven’t even had any dinner-”

“Cho, it’s only what, half past eight? I’m not exactly dying of hunger over here-”

“Have dinner here? I know it’s not the fancy restaurant I promised you, but I’d still like to spend more time with you tonight. I just can’t leave Yuji. I totally get if you don’t want to, though! I don’t know if Yuji’s gonna need me in a bit…”

“I’d love to, Cho. And never worry about having to look after Yuji when you’re with me, okay? I care about that little bugger more than I’d like to admit - trust me, if something’s up with him, I want to help.”

“We can order in? And thank you, I really appreciate that. I know a lot of people who wouldn’t be as cool about all this as you.” ”Ordering in sounds great, and it’s a good job I’m not one of those people.”

Half an hour later you were sat tucked up on Choso’s couch eating your dinner. You had spent 25 minutes slowly inching closer to Choso on the sofa, until you were almost under his arm, but then the stupid deliveryman showed up with your food, making Choso stand to get it and thwarting all of your plans. You had ended up on opposite ends of the couch again, and you were plotting how to get closer without it being weird or too obvious. You were pulled out of your plotting, though, at Choso’s voice.

“So, erm, what was going on with Sukuna back at his apartment?” He asked.

“Oh yeah, that.” You grimaced at the memory. “I don’t really know. He just appeared, and then started, hitting on me? I guess? And then he got a bit too close, but you and Yuji interrupted before he could really try anything.”

“I’m sorry about him. To be honest, I don’t like him much, but Yuji adores him. He’s the one that made him want to get those Hello Kitty plasters.”

“Him?”

“Yeah, exactly. I’m still confused about it.” He chuckled, “But he does actually care about Yuji. I don’t like him babysitting often, but I’d trust him with Yuji more than a stranger.”

“He has a funny way of showing it. What did he call Yuji again, brat?”

“Yeah, I know. To be honest, I think that might just be for show. Goes against his tough guy vibe if he has a soft spot for his young nephew, eh?”

“Yeah, true.”

“I am sorry about how he spoke to you. I didn’t really want him to meet you, but…”

“Hey, it’s okay. I know tonight didn’t go as planned, but I really enjoy your company, Choso. And you owe me a complete date, yeah? If you forget about it, I know were you live.” You fake threatened, pointing your cutlery at him menacingly.

“Oh no. I’m so scared.” Choso’s voice was monotone, dripping with sarcasm.

“You should be. I’m such a threat. Gonna kick your door down and force you to go out with me again.”

“Why not use the spare key to break in and wake me in the middle of the night, Yuji-style?”

“Darn, you’ve uncovered my back-up plan! Whatever shall I do now?” You overdramatically wailed. Choso laughed at your antics, a low and melodious laugh that had your heart skipping a beat.

“Maybe you need to keep me on my toes and break-in in broad daylight.”

“What a great idea!” You gasped, “you’re being promoted to my evil sidekick. I have faith in your capabilities for this role, but you must take it seriously.”

“Does the position have future opportunities for promotion?”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know… I’m sure I’d like to move up to the ‘boyfriend’ role at some point down the line.”

“You smooth fucker.” You shook your head at him, looking away to hide your heated face. Your reaction elicited a chuckle from the dark haired man, who was still admiring you, even as you avoided eye contact.

“You’ve not answered my question, boss.”

“I’m sure we could figure something like that out. In a few dates’ time, of course. I have to take you on a trial run to make sure you’re a suitable candidate.” You tried to sound nonchalant, but it came out strained.

“At the way things are currently going, that’ll be in six months!” Choso complained, “and I really don’t think I can wait that long.” He shifted closer towards you, his gaze intense. It had your breath catching in your throat, it was simply hypnotising - you couldn’t look away. Your food was long forgotten as Choso’s eyes flickered towards your lips, and then back to your eyes, catching himself. He crept closer and closer, goosebumps rising on your arms in anticipation. When you could feel his breath tickling your face - close, but not close enough - he hesitated.

“Can I?” You nodded frantically, and then Choso’s lips were pressing against yours. The kiss was slow, but passionate. It wasn’t a fiery, blazing heat, one that burns itself out almost as soon as it is lit. Instead, it was a slow, fulfilling warmth, like sinking into a comforting bath on a cold day. You eventually pulled back, but his lips momentarily chased yours, meeting them again. One kiss turned into two, which turned into three, Choso nipping at your bottom lip, asking for entry. You let out a small gasp, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth. The two of you stayed like that, making out on Choso’s sofa, until he begrudgingly pulled away,

“I should go check on the little guy.” He sighed.

“Yeah, er, I should probably go to. It’s getting late, and I don’t want you to be too tired to look after Yuji tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Choso’s voice had a hint of sadness that you couldn’t help pick up on.

“I’ll see you tomorrow though, yeah? I’ll stop by to check on Yuji. I hope he feels better.”

“Yeah, me too.” The conversation died off, an awkward silence filling the room. You slapped your knees and stood up, heading towards the door. Choso followed you, internally cursing himself for ruining the moment.

“So, um, we’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, tomorrow.” You leant in to give Choso one last kiss, but were met with a hug instead. You were taken aback - his tongue was in your throat not even ten minutes prior - but wrapped your arms around him nonetheless.

“See you later, Cho.” You said, pulling out of his arms. You didn’t want to let go, not really, but there was an unwelcome tension in the atmosphere all of a sudden, one that you wanted to escape. Did he regret kissing you? Did he regret even asking you out in the first place? Were you a bad kisser? A storm of anxiety swarmed in your head as you made you way back into your own apartment. What the fuck had you done?

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙒𝙊: 𝘏𝘐, 𝘐'𝘔… 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘐'𝘔 𝘈𝘕 𝘈𝘓𝘊𝘖𝘏𝘖𝘓𝘐𝘊

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: you meet someone new at your aa meeting and have some conflicting feelings about going out to dinner with spencer.

word count: 2229

warnings: aa meetings, mentions of overdosing, and self-deprecating thoughts, mentions of fainting, and mentions of ambulances.

a/n: HEHE okay, so i don't have much to say about this chapter, just that i'm super happy about the feedback i'm getting. i'm so happy you guys are as excited about this series as i am!! but we get a little looksee inside of how the reader feels about spencer 👀👀

masterlist | series masterlist | AO3

Now picture this.

You’re a bright eyed, bushy tailed twenty something year old artist that’s excited for all that college has to offer.

Then, one day, while your father is standing in the kitchen making dinner, he sways for a moment before hitting the ground with a loud crash, the cutting board he had been stationed over tumbling to the ground with him.

It’s a mess and your mom screams in terror from where she’s sitting next to you on the couch, tears already forming in her eyes as she falls over herself to get to him. You shoot up from where you sit, you’re frozen in place, staring at the scene in front of you paralyzed in shock.

She shouts for you to call an ambulance and you vaguely remember dialing the phone number and speaking to the person on the other end. All you know is that your mom is gently tapping his cheek but he’s not responding. She presses her forehead against his and she begs for him to wake up.

You don’t know what to do. All you can do is stare.

Time is irrelevant as he’s carried out on a stretcher, you and your mother not far behind as you both climb in the back of the ambulance. The lights on top of it glow a bright, blinding red and you see someone run out from the house across from yours, standing in the middle of the road as they watch the entire scene unfold.

The vehicle was moving too fast to get a good look at their face through the door windows by the time you realized it, but you knew it was Spencer.

It’s always been Spencer.

You were nervous.

Today was your first AA meeting and you found your knee bouncing up and down from where you sat in the passenger seat of the car.

“Honey, you’re going to be fine.” Your mom speaks from behind the wheel.

“I know, I know.” You say, yet you shift nervously. “Fuck, I need a cigarette.” You swear, chewing on your nails. “This is a good thing!” Your mother says cheerfully. “New beginnings and all that! Maybe you’ll even meet new people there. Lord knows you need friends.” The last part is mumbled but you heard it.

“Mom!” You exclaim incredulously, looking at her with your mouth ajar. “Sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just… I can’t be your only friend in this, you know that. And those people in there know more about what you’re going through than what I do.” She was right and you knew it.

“Why not?” You whine petulantly. 

She laughs, shaking her head.

It doesn’t take that long to get to the place where the meetings are held, and you stare at it from the window.

“Not that I totally don’t want to get sober, but do I have to?” You turn to your mom with a pleading look. “Jesus, how did you manage to live in New York if you can’t even handle a smaller gathering like this?” 

“I had to stop taking my anxiety meds.” 

Then it clicks and she softens.

“Listen, you’re just going to go in there and listen to other people speak. You don’t have to share anything if you don’t want to, but I want you to at least try and meet new people. Please.” She pleads. You stare at her for a moment before sighing.

“Alright, fine. You’ll pick me up when it’s over?”

“Of course. Now go before you’re late and everyone stares at you.” 

“God you’re the worst.” You groan as you get out of the car. She pauses for a moment before saying, “Good luck!” As you walk away.

AA goes as you had expected it to.

There were fifteen or so people, a little bit bigger than you would have liked, but it was comfortable. No one called on you or forced you to share if you didn’t want to. 

Hearing other people’s struggle was strangely comforting. You hadn’t realized how much your alcoholism had isolated you, separated you from making connections with other people and even yourself. 

Maybe that’s why it’s been hard for you to process the overwhelming feelings you’ve been experiencing lately. You drank to forget and not feeling anything was really just the norm for you. That’s probably why things between you and Luke hadn’t worked out.

Aside from that, you’ve come to learn the names of a few of the pledgers.

The first one was Nikki, a grunge looking Asian-American woman with cropped dyed hair. She ran in a few bad circles when she was younger, grew up in a trailer park and when her girlfriend overdosed in their hotel room, she finally decided it was time to get clean.

Then there was John, an American man with buzzed hair that was an Army Vet that drank to forget the battlefield and chose to get clean after his wife left him. If he didn’t then he wouldn’t get any kind of custody of his kids, let alone visitation.

Then there was Miranda, the oldest AA member that was currently a sponsor. She was a Hispanic woman with a stern demeanor, but she was actually quite kind when she spoke at the podium.

You felt for them all, truly. You found yourself in little pieces of their stories, and it was nice to feel seen.

When the meeting was over, you retreated outside where the other members lingered and talked. You stood off to the side, bringing out your box of cigarettes and sticking one between your lips.

“Can I bum one off you?” You heard someone ask from next to you. Your eyes widened a little at the sight of a suit wearing Miranda, but you stuck the box out towards her, and she took one.

“You got a lighter?” You asked gruffly and she nodded. “Yeah.” She reached into her pocket before you leaned forward into the flame, breathing in the fumes.

“You new?” She asks after her puff. You throw a sidelong glance at her. “Mhm.”

“How’d you like it?” She questions. “Think you’d stick around?” You shrug. “Kinda have too. I got this deal going with my mom; she lets me live with her only if I get my shit together.”

“Sounds like a good woman.” Miranda says, rocking on her heels slightly. She takes another puff before blowing it out. “A great woman.” You admit, taking a drag yourself. “How long have you been around?”

“Two or three years give our take.” She says nonchalantly. “Shit,” You blow out with a whistle. “Good for you.” And you mean it. “Wasn’t easy, but I don’t regret it. I think if you actually commit to it outside of your mom, you’d feel the same.” 

“I’m trying.” You sigh, “But withdrawal is kicking my ass.”

“Ah, the good ol’ days.” She comments sarcastically, but the words aren’t aimed at you. 

“You have a ride home?” She asks after a moment of silence. “Yeah,” You respond, flicking the ash of the burning filter to the ground below. “Cool.” She digs around in her pocket before presenting you a business card with her number on it.

“If you ever need to talk, just give me a call, yeah?” 

“Yeah…” You look up at her. “Thanks.”

Miranda flicks the cigarette on the ground, putting it out with her foot. “See you around.” She says before turning around and walking away.

You follow her, putting out the bud and stomping on it just as your mom’s car swings into view.

Tonight wasn’t a date, just a meal and catching up between friends, but God, why are you so nervous?

You don’t know why you’re so worried about your appearance, but you had changed into three different outfits in the past twenty minutes. You forced yourself to settle for a plain black V-neck shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans that were lost amongst the pile, leaning down to slip on a pair of your plain black Converse.

It was nice but casual. Perfect.

Checking the time on your phone, you had about thirty or so minutes before you had to be there give or take, but you felt restless and wanted to leave early.

Rushing out of the room, you find your mom squished into the crease of the couch with reading glasses perched on her face and her latest crocheting project on her blanketed lap, her knees bent to the side.

“Are you watching Love Island?” You ask with an amused scoff. She directs her attention towards you, ripping her gaze from the TV. “Why yes I am.” She gives you a once-over before nodding her head in approval. “You look nice, are you heading out somewhere?”

“Uh…” You flush. “Yeah… I’m having dinner with Spencer, so I just wanted to know if I could borrow the car tonight?”

“Spencer?” She asks with an intrigued grin. “Since when did you start talking to him again?” You groan. “He came over to see you yesterday when you weren’t home. I invited him in, we talked, and he asked me to dinner.”

“So, he asked you on a date?” She suggests with a wiggle of her brows. “What?” You sputter, “N - no! We're just going to catch up! So, the car, yes, or no?” She laughs aloud, throwing her head back before gesturing to the keys sitting on the coffee table.

“My baby’s all yours, but no smoking in it alright?” She threatens vaguely. You roll your eyes, huffing. “I wasn’t going to anyway. ‘Didn’t want to smell bad.” You say as you reach for the keys. “Oo, wanting to smell good for Spencer I hope?”

“Have I ever told you that you’re the worst?”

“All the time, but you love it.” She relents with a cheeky shrug, her hands resuming their weaving. “I can’t say I don’t.” You say softly. I love you. She smiles gently. “You call me if you need me, yeah?” You nod. “I will.”

“You be safe! And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Or actually you should, might do you some good.”

“You’re relentless!” You shout as you exit the house, but there’s still a smile on your face, nevertheless.

Being able to drive again was therapeutic to say the least, you were always too intoxicated to drive, and you weren’t all that interested in getting a DUI. 

You remember always being the one that drove Spencer and yourself around, the man having preferred things like walking, taking the bus, or the train, basically anything that wasn’t an automated vehicle that he had to operate.

You didn’t like when he’d go on public transport by himself, so you had worked hard to get your license. He had questioned your eagerness to take him to and fro, and it had eased your mind.

Things were so simple back then.

You remember sneaking Spencer over to your house for the first time, convincing him to sneak out with you, then, when you were adults, going out during the nighttime willingly to talk about anything and everything under the stars.

When things were simpler, when you weren’t broken. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat and your nerves begin to itch again.

The cravings were still there, but the cigarettes and routine caffeine from the coffee you drank helped to subside it some. But when you face an emotion like this, the need for a drink shoves itself to the forefront of your mind, begging you to do anything but confront it.

You don’t want it to be like that anymore. You want to feel.

You want to feel happy, reminiscent, wistful, grief, depression, hurt; you want to feel everything that comes with being a human, and maybe sitting down and explaining to Spencer what exactly happened would be a good place to start.

The restaurant is a humble thing, small and quaint, but popular.

You figured that you could go and claim a table since you were early, but you felt rooted to your seat, hands still gripping the steering wheel despite the ignition being off.

Fuck, what are you going to do?

You really, really didn’t want to dive into the heavy shit tonight, but you have no idea exactly how to go about this. So much change can happen in five years – you were the prime example of that – what if he’s someone that you don’t know anymore? You used to pride yourself on knowing everything about him.

But now… now it feels like you have no idea how to start.

You slump back in your seat, hands falling in your lap to pick at your cuticles, your teeth finding home in the flaky flesh of your lips. 

This was Spencer. Spencer who loved Doctor Who and was a total germaphobe. Spencer who already knew how to speak different languages and loved Comic Con and cosplay. He was your Spencer, your genius.

Your Spencer? Where did that come from?

That thought drove you crazy enough to wrench yourself out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind you too harshly. You wince.

“Sorry, girl.” You apologize with a grimace, patting the roof of the car. Good, now you were going crazy talking to your car. Just great.

This was fine, just dandy!

You could do this.

Really, you could!

You think.

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[tashiberrie]

THEOPHAGY a challengers fanfic.

chapter one

↳ table of contents • one • two • three •,…

— in which the relentless pursuit of victory entangles rivals and friends alike in a complex web of obsession, love and self discovery.

an: who knew i could make tennis this dramatic. anyway, rebloggs are very much appreciated <3 please let me know what you think and feel free to send asks about theophagy, eve, challengers, whatever you want 🤍 enjoy.

ps: i’m thinking about creating a tag list for theophagy, so let me know if you’d be interested in that.

2004

Tashi Duncan was a name that echoed through the world of tennis with a reverence that bordered on awe. A prodigy from a young age, she had an almost supernatural grace on the court, a fluidity of movement that left spectators spellbound and opponents in despair. Winning had become a second nature to her; it was not just an expectation but a foregone conclusion. Tashi's journey through the ranks was meteoric, and by the age of just fifteen, she had secured her place as a future legend of the sport.

Her confidence was as unshakable as her skill. She approached each match with a calm certainty, her powerful serves and precise volleys dismantling any challenge that came her way. Tashi Duncan was, simply put, the best.

But then came Eve Anh.

Eve was a name Tashi had not encountered before, a new entrant into the upper echelons of tennis who had taken the circuit by storm. There were whispers about her in the locker rooms, murmurs of an almost feral intensity, a predatory focus that left her opponents rattled. Tashi paid little attention to the rumours; she had faced countless challengers and emerged victorious every time. Eve, she thought, would be no different.

The day of their match arrived with an electric tension in the air. The stadium was packed, the audience eager to witness the clash of titans. Tashi stepped onto the court with her usual confidence, her eyes scanning the crowd before settling on her opponent. Eve stood at the other end, her expression inscrutable, her eyes locked onto Tashi with a piercing intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

The match began and Tashi quickly realised that Eve was no ordinary opponent. She moved with a ferocity and precision that was terrifying, each stroke of her racket a slash of claws, each serve a piercing bite. Tashi struggled to keep up, her usual grace and power faltering under the relentless onslaught. It was as if Eve was not just playing to win, but to consume.

Point by point, Eve tore through Tashi’s defences, ripping apart her composure and confidence. Tashi felt as though she was being dismembered, piece by piece, her pride and skill devoured with every brutal volley. Each time she looked at Eve, she saw a hunger that went beyond the desire to win; it was a ravenous, insatiable need to dominate, to consume everything Tashi had ever been.

Eve's gaze was like a shark's, cold and unfeeling, and Tashi felt herself being drawn into those depths, drowning in her own fear and helplessness. She was no longer the lioness; she was the prey, caught in the jaws of a predator far more formidable than any she had faced before. Eve's dominance was total, her victory a feast, and Tashi felt every bite, every tear as her spirit was shredded.

When the final point was scored and the match ended, Tashi stood on the court, feeling eviscerated. Eve approached, her expression unreadable, but the gleam in her eyes spoke of a hunger momentarily sated. Tashi extended a trembling hand, feeling the cold grip of her conqueror, and in that moment, she knew she had been devoured.

Eve had not just defeated her; she had consumed her, leaving Tashi a hollow shell of the champion she once was. The court was her hunting ground, and Tashi had been her feast. As she walked away, Tashi could still feel the gnawing teeth, the relentless hunger of Eve, and she knew she would never be the same. She had been devoured, body and soul, by a predator unlike any she had ever faced.

Eve was a figure of mystery and intensity, her presence on the tennis court nothing short of mesmerising. Her journey in tennis had been one of relentless pursuit, a hunger that drove her to devour her competition with a ferocity that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. For Eve, tennis was not just a sport; it was a lifeline, an essential part of her existence as crucial as the air she breathed.

From a young age, Eve had discovered that she possessed a talent for the game, a natural ability that set her apart from her peers. But it was not just her skill that defined her; it was the insatiable hunger that burned within her, a need to dominate and conquer that transcended mere competition. Tennis was her battleground, and every match was a hunt, every opponent a potential feast for her unrelenting appetite.

Eve's rise through the ranks of tennis was marked by a series of brutal, decisive victories. She had a keen eye for talent, seeking out the best players with a predatory instinct. She latched onto them, drawn to their strength and skill like a moth to a flame. These players became her prey, their prowess on the court the sustenance she craved. She thrived on the challenge they presented, their resistance fueling her drive to overpower them.

But this hunger came at a cost. Eve was acutely aware of the the merciless nature of her pursuit. She knew that her approach to the game was not just about winning; it was about consuming her opponents, drawing from their strength until there was nothing left. She fed on their fear, their desperation, their struggle to keep up with her relentless assault. And when they began to falter, when their strength waned and they could no longer provide the challenge she needed, she would leave them behind, moving on to her next target.

This cycle of predation left a trail of broken players in her wake, each one a testament to her ruthless efficiency. Eve felt a pang of guilt every time she moved on, a fleeting acknowledgment of the destruction she left behind. She knew it was terrible, this parasitic drive that defined her. But the hunger was too strong, too deeply embedded in her soul. It was who she was, and she couldn't change that, no matter how much she might want to.

Off the court, Eve was a solitary figure, her intense focus on the game leaving little room for personal connections. She kept to herself, her interactions with others marked by a certain detachment. It was as if she feared that letting anyone get too close would expose the voracious hunger that drove her, the dark need that she barely contained.

Despite her inner turmoil, there was a part of Eve that reveled in her power, in the fear and respect she commanded. She saw herself as a necessary force in the world of tennis, a crucible through which the strongest players must pass. Yet, there was also a part of her that longed for something more, a connection that went beyond the superficial ties of competition.

Her encounter with Tashi Duncan had been different. Tashi had been a formidable opponent, her strength and skill a tantalising challenge that Eve had relished. The match had been a feast, every point a morsel of satisfaction for her ravenous appetite. But in Tashi, Eve had also seen a reflection of her own struggles, a kindred spirit battling her own demons. The connection they shared on the court was electric, a blend of rivalry and respect that left a lasting impression on Eve.

After that fateful match, Tashi Duncan's world was irrevocably altered. The court, once her kingdom, now felt like a graveyard of her shattered pride. The days that followed were a haze of restless nights and distracted days. Tashi couldn't escape the haunting presence of Eve; she was everywhere and nowhere, a spectre that invaded her every thought.

Tashi's obsession with Eve grew, an insidious vine wrapping around her mind, squeezing tighter with each passing day. She replayed their match in her head endlessly, dissecting every movement, every stroke, every glance. She scrutinised Eve’s form, trying to uncover some secret, some flaw she had missed. But each analysis only deepened her sense of awe and dread. Eve was flawless, a predator who had revealed Tashi’s own vulnerabilities in the most visceral way possible.

She began by studying Eve's matches with an intensity bordering on obsession, dissecting every move, every habit, searching for some clue, some insight into the mind of her conqueror. And it didn't take long for Tashi to uncover the quirks and rituals that defined Eve's presence on the court.

The soft hum that Eve emitted between points became a haunting melody in Tashi's mind, a constant refrain that echoed through her thoughts even when she wasn't watching. She found herself humming along, trying to decipher the meaning behind the ever-changing tunes, wondering what secrets they held.

Eve's unique way of bouncing the tennis ball before serving became a mesmerising spectacle for Tashi, a hypnotic dance that seemed to defy the laws of physics. She watched in awe as Eve spun and twirled the ball with effortless grace, each variation a testament to her skill and creativity. Tashi found herself mimicking the motions in her own practice sessions, hoping to capture even a fraction of Eve's magic.

And then there were the water bottles, meticulously arranged in a precise pattern on the sidelines. Tashi watched as Eve lined them up with obsessive precision, marvelling at the dedication and focus it must take to perform such a seemingly mundane task. She wondered about the significance of the ritual, the hidden meaning behind the carefully arranged bottles.

Her own training took on a frantic, almost manic quality. She pushed herself harder than ever before, driven by a desperate need to reclaim what had been taken from her. She studied Eve’s techniques, mimicked her strategies, and adapted her own style in a bid to become stronger, faster, better. Yet, no matter how hard she trained, the image of Eve standing over her, victorious and unassailable, remained seared into her mind.

In Eve, Tashi saw more than just a formidable opponent; she saw a divine force, a manifestation of power and grace beyond mortal comprehension. Eve's dominance on the court was not just skill; it was a revelation, a glimpse into a higher plane of existence where victory and defeat were mere illusions.

Tashi's fixation consumed her personal life as well. She withdrew from friends and family, her world narrowing to a singular focus: Eve. Conversations were tinged with an undercurrent of Eve’s name, her presence a ghostly thread woven into the fabric of Tashi’s existence. Her relationships strained and faltered, unable to compete with the all-encompassing spectre of her infatuation.

[kaiyunsim]

HEARTS IN THE MARGINS — chapter 12 : og bf

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written section : (wc : ~450) not proof read :>

Jake shows up at the usual meetup spot, the library, this time a half-hour early. He feels bad for having you come over on such short notice so he decides to pick something up on his way there. The place he stopped by was a coffee shop that you mentioned that you liked, he took a mental note of it and hoped it would make up for the mini emergency that he had.

fifteen minutes pass, normally you would be there. he doesn’t think much about it though because it’s still early. eventually it reaches the time you agreed to meet up and he looks around for you, still nowhere to be seen. he starts to check his messages if you said anything. empty. he decides to text again, thinking you probably just missed his previous message.

hi y/n erm you’re coming right

he texts, of course not expecting a response right away so he puts his phone down. he starts to scan his surroundings checking if you are around. he kills some time by preparing the area and setting up his supplies and books.

eventually fifteen minutes pass, he just makes up another excuse, ‘maybe they’re bus is late’ ‘maybe they had to do something’ ‘maybe they forgot’ he rambles on and on in his own thoughts wondering why you aren’t there yet. he checks his messages again, all of them left on delivered.

are they ignoring me?

jake thinks to himself. after waiting another fifteen minutes, for a total of thirty minutes later than the scheduled meetup, jake finally packs up and starts to leave. at this point his gift that he got you was cold and ruined already.

jake leaves and drives off to the last place he last knew you were, heeseung’s place. once there he knocks. heeseung opens the door and greets jake with a confused face.

”why are you here? i didn’t know were having a game session today…” heeseung rambles,

”no i’m not here to play,” jake scoffs, slightly annoyed by the comment from heeseung, “is y/n here?”

”oh you know them? they left just a bit ago”

”really? which bus did they take?” jake asks, knowing you don’t have a car and just use public transit.

”oh they didn’t take a bus, their friend picked them up.”

jake sighs in defeat, not knowing of any more places to check or find y/n.

“why don’t you try asking hoon? they’re friends,” heeseung comments, trying to help jake out. it sucks to see him like this so heeseung wanted to do whatever he could to help.

jake nods before waving goodbye and hopping into his car, driving back to his dorm, leaving him thinking about what to do next.

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a/n : sorry everyone been busy doing school :(( BUT i have a long weekend so maybe oneshots?? i didn’t really like how this turned out but i have some ideas for future chapters. plus i had to get something out i feel bad for being so ia so it def feels a bit rushed. (please request things so i get out of this writing block for hearts in the margins)

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taglist ! : (OPEN !) comment or send an ask to be added !

@onlyhyunjin @starchasing-cryptid @bubblztaro @kanattac @nootnootpinguuu @gnusihcom @kkurbys @w0uldyoukissme @ilovejungwonandhaechan @pshwrldd @minoouz @winuvs @zhaegon @danielleism

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (22) Night

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 22)

I'm so sorry. Go get those tissues. I've used all of mine.

Summary: Rosie gets devastating news, and all she can think of is how her Papa is coping.

Twenty-Two Years Old

When Dad called with the news, my first thought was quite irrational: oh no, we’re never going to celebrate our twentieth anniversary! The second thought hit me with force and made me breathless: how is Papa doing?

“I’ll hop on the next…”

“No need, sweetheart. A car will pick you up in approximately fifteen minutes,” Dad assured me, and that’s when I started to cry.

***

Uncle Myc stood and waited for me outside the car when I ran to the kerb. His arms opened and I collapsed against him, heartbroken and totally devastated. He didn’t try to comfort me with words of nonsense, like it’s going to be ok, because he knew it would be a long time before any of us would be fine after this sudden and tragic loss.

“She seemed fine yesterday,” I told uncle Myc on the way home.

“Yes, so I have been…informed,” he sighed.

“How is he?” I asked, terrified of the answer.

“As expected.”

“Rock bottom,” I mumbled, and felt my throat tighten painfully from withheld tears.

“Indeed,” uncle agreed gravely.

***

It was worse than I expected. Papa’s loud voice boomed like a signal horn from upstairs when I locked us in.

“How could you not have seen the signs? You’re a bloody doctor, John!”

The words were spit like venom. I couldn’t discern Dad’s reply, but his voice was calm. He knew Papa wasn’t angry at him, but he needed to vent his sorrow, shock and devastation at someone. Luckily for everyone involved, Papa had chosen the right person for such an onslaught.

Before I climbed the stairs, I looked over at Nana’s door.

Gone. Dead. You’ll never see her again. There’ll be no more Christmas baking. She’ll never scold Papa for being petulant anymore. England has fallen.

The seventeen steps had never been so steep, my body never so heavy, and at the same time it felt hollow. 

“Nearly there, Rosamund,” uncle Myc murmured from behind me.

I woke from my daze and realised that the shouting had stopped. In its wake came a sound so heartbreaking, it made tears flow down my cheeks. Before I opened the door, a thought hit me like a battering ram, making me lose my balance for a moment.

If Papa mourned Nana like this, he would be utterly destroyed if Dad died before him. Not even his biological family’s demise could elicit such grief from him.

***

Inside the flat, Papa clung to Dad, and it struck me how small he seemed in that moment. So lost and bereft. This was not a puzzle he could solve, or a culprit he could catch to make everything right again.

“Rosie’s home,” Dad whispered to Papa and reached for me.

I didn’t think Papa would let go of Dad, give me room, or even detect the words, but he did. My name seemed to have a magical effect on him, because he straightened, turned his pained face at me and lifted his arm to indicate that I was welcomed into his and Dad’s cocoon. We held on to each other for what felt like hours. Dad asking if we were alright, Papa muttering something under his breath, and I just clung to my parents, wordless.

Dad, always reliable in a crisis, remembered that there was another person present, and carefully entangled himself after kissing us both, guiding our arms to embrace. Papa mumbled his name questioningly.

“Just give me a few minutes, Sherlock. Take care of Rosie, yeah?”

Papa nodded and pulled me closer, cradling the back of my head, whispering my precious girland I’m so sorry you have to go through this, and she loved you like a granddaughter.

***

The days leading up to the funeral alternated between the three of us sharing memories about the core of 221 Baker Street, what we would miss most about her, and lots and lots of crying. 

Dad was our rock in all of this, despite that he grieved his former landlady too. Some nights, Papa was inconsolable, and I thought his heart would literally break. He curled up in bed and sobbed full of despair. Only Dad could hope to console him, coaxing him out of the dark place he had locked himself in.

Both me and Papa agreed that we would honour Martha Hudson on the day of the funeral. Nana’s niece, Deidre, was her only living relative, and uncle Myc assured her that we would arrange everything if she weren’t able. From what Dad told me, she was relieved, having just started her tattoo studio, and she was quite short of money after the investments. 

***

Leaving uncle Myc and his minions in charge of the ceremony, proved to be ingenious, as we all expected. Even Nana would’ve been pleased with him, I think.

It all took place at Pembroke Lodge in Richmond Park. The Grade II listed Georgian Mansion is a beautiful and tranquil place, posh, but not over the top. 

The pleasantly warm weather allowed us to go dressed without jackets and coats. To honour Nana, all of us wore something purple, her favourite colour. Even uncle Myc acquiesced to leave his black suit at home, and instead he wore a light grey three-piece-suit with a deep purple tie.

Deidre showed up with purple nail polish, her black hair in spikes, the dramatic makeup intact, purple leather trousers, and a matching jacket with a black shirt underneath. Her Doc Martens boots were bright red. She was over the moon about the venue and to what lengths we’d gone to ensure a proper farewell for her aunt.

***

We didn’t know all the mourners, but I think I spotted a few celebrities who wore gigantic sunglasses and hats to hide their identities, which obviously had the opposite effect. 

Ginny, who conducted the ceremony was a calming presence throughout, and informed the congregation that there would be one speech apart from her own, and musical elements performed by a pianist and Papa on violin.

Papa held it together through his potpourri of Nana’s favourite classical pieces. He had his eyes closed and lost himself in the music. It was heartbreakingly beautiful. Beside me Dad clasped my hand firmly and never took his eyes off Papa. Admiration, love, sorrow and grief washed over his face in quick succession. He rose when Papa lowered his bow and looked over at the coffin that was decorated with purple lilacs. I saw the moment his knees gave way, but Dad was already at his side holding him close whispering something in his ear. I went over to them to pry the violin and bow out of Papa’s limp hands and let him lean into Dad’s arms.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Dad murmured teary-eyed.

Papa’s sobbing was muffled by his face being buried in Dad’s neck. Dad’s hand cradled the back of Papa’s head like it was a delicate object made of china. Slowly, Dad led Papa back to his seat and he held him tight until it was my turn to honour my beloved Nana.

The night I decided how to do it, Dad and Papa asked if I was sure I would manage it on my own. I retorted that of course I would. I was not a child anymore. What I hadn't considered was that reading a poem out loud in my room was completely different than performing it in front of a crowd, not to mention the emotional impact this performance would have on me.

I got to my feet when Ginny gave the signal and walked over to stand beside the coffin and opened the book on the correct page. Dad and Papa noticed before I did. Something gave me away. Did the book tremble in my hands, did my legs quiver, or did my breathing start to go wild with panic? Whatever it was, they both stood, came over to me, embraced me with their backs to the onlookers to shield me.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this, Bee?” Papa asked with a thick voice filled to the brim with withheld tears.

“You don’t have to, you know. Nobody would…” 

I cut Dad off abruptly feeling the soothing effect the closeness of my parents had on me.

“I’m sure. Stay, will you?” I said quietly.

“Of course,” they retorted in unison.

***

I took a deep breath, let go of my parents and we all turned to the other mourners and I started to read with one father on each side, radiating comfort and love.

Warning

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple  With a red hat which doesn’t go and doesn’t suit me.  And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves  And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.  I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired  And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells  And run my stick along the public railings  And make up for the sobriety of my youth.  I shall go out in my slippers in the rain  And pick flowers in other people’s gardens  And learn to spit.  You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat  And eat three pounds of sausages at a go  Or only bread and pickle for a week  And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.  But now we must have clothes that keep us dry  And pay our rent and not swear in the street  And set a good example for the children.  We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.  But maybe I ought to practice a little now?  So, people who know me are not too shocked and surprised  When suddenly I am old and start to wear purple.

Today, I will nudge you in the direction of AO3 and the end notes to give you some context

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @raina-at

More tags in the replies

[dangerousduckcloud]

Flowerbeds make up for a nice eternal rest

Read it also on AO3

Dick jumped from the car, walking until he was consumed by the darkness that surrounded you. Seconds passed and nothing happened, no movement, no sound, nothing. It’s now or never. The door opened without a problem, barely making a sound, but one that could be misinterpreted by the hooting of owls nearby. You stood there for a full second, waiting to see if Nightwing would come back, but he didn’t. Taking a few steps backwards, you hastily turned in your place, ready to run away as fast as you could.

Chapter 3 < > Chapter 5

taglist: @kurai-hono-blog

Ever since you were a child, your parents would engrave the phrase ‘do not get into a car with strangers’ into your mind every single day. And you listened, feeling uneasy as a teen every time you had to get into a taxi by yourself, the sentiment not quite leaving you even now that you were a young adult.

But when the stranger had a real life Batmobile which could go up to 500km/h? Well, that’s something worth risking your life for. After all, how many people could say they had the opportunity to ride in an exact replica of the legendary car?

Besides, did that sentence applied when you were already staying with the stranger?

“All these buttons work?”

“Yeah.”

“What does this one do?”

“That’s the comms.”

“What about this one?”

“GPS.”

“And this one?”

“Emergency eject.”

If Dick didn’t had plans to kill you, he likely did now. The moment your eyes spotted the car, you ran straight towards it, throwing yourself inside when Dick unlocked it, your parents’ precaution all but forgotten.

The interior was everything you expected. Black leather seats with dark red detailing, more gauges than a normal car should have that you didn’t even know what they were measuring, the dashboard packed with dark gray buttons, some labeled with numbers, others with letters, you only stopped trying to press them when Dick almost swerved off the road at seeing you were about to push the auto-destruction button.

But that didn’t stop you from asking.

“This one?”

“That’s the GCPD radio.”

“And what about—FUCK!” Stepping on the pedal, the car reached a speed at which no normal human should be able to drive. “Stop! STOP!”

Just seconds before you would hit a car waiting for the red light to change —even though it was way past midnight, and the streets were empty— the Batmobile stopped, the force of movement sending you forward, an ‘ooph’ leaving your mouth once your chest hit the dashboard.

Dick’s shoulders were shaking with mirth.

“If you wanted me to shut up, you could’ve said so.” You complained while rubbing your shoulder, sure that the seatbelt would leave a mark.

“I’m sorry.” He pursed his lips, stepping on the pedal once more, this time at a normal speed. “Are you alright?”

“I guess I’ll survive.” Reclining on the seat, you took a second to take a deep breath, calming your body before it decided to return your meal. “So, how far is Mr. Wayne’s house?”

“On the other side of the city, all the way to the outskirts.”

You’re certain he was lying, that his plan involved driving you around to get ‘lost’ and not realize you’d gone back to the same place, something that totally would’ve work if you didn’t know the truth, whatever the truth was.

“Can we at least turn on the radio?” You asked, hoping it would help you learn where were you, because no matter how far he’d drive, you couldn’t recognize any part of the city. Had they moved you to a whole different town? “This car has a normal radio, right?”

He hummed, thoughtlessly hitting a button, and bringing to life the voice of whatever talk show host was on at this hour.

“… Top-up security if so many prisoners keep escaping.” The woman in the radio said. “But I guess once can get complacent when you have grown men in tights running around beating up these criminals and bringing them back. That’s Gotham for you, folks. Time’s fifteen past two am. Temperature’s…”

Great, so the radio was of no use as well. Just how many people did they have on this scheme? Was this something pre-recorded?

Your feelings were a weird mix of danger, curiosity, anxiousness, and hopelessness. Nothing made sense, what did they want with you? Why you? Were you simply on the wrong place, at the wrong time?

This wouldn’t be happening if only you’d remember to charge your earphones and— That’s it! Your phone!

Chiding yourself for forgetting it, you moved on your seat pretending to soothe a cramping leg, but in reality, you were patting your right leg for the hidden pocket on your pant, something you had to sew in most of your clothes after getting mugged the first time you moved to the city.

The rectangular bulge your fingers brushed over your thigh brought some peace of mind, meaning they hadn’t done anything to you, not even pat you down to make sure you wouldn’t call the police.

Were they amateur kidnappers?

Song after song was the only thing filling the space inside the car, some random add here and there on the radio.

“Won’t Mr. Wayne be mad we’ll wake him up at two in the morning?” You decided to break the silence.

“Nah, it’s a Friday, he’ll most likely be just returning from some party. We’re almost there.”

‘There’ was pretty vague, tall buildings had transformed into a beautiful field, moonshine reflecting on the early morning dew on the grass. ‘There’ was nothing here, just a road that continued behind a hill.

The car came to a stop, all kind of alarms flaring at full volume inside your head. There was no one here, there was nothing here. They could kill you or brainwash your brain and people would be none the wiser, no one would be able to help you.

“Wait here.”

Dick jumped from the car, walking until he was consumed by the darkness that surrounded you. Seconds passed and nothing happened, no movement, no sound, nothing.

It’s now or never.

The door opened without a problem, barely making a sound, but one that could be misinterpreted by the hooting of owls nearby. You stood there for a full second, waiting to see if Nightwing would come back, but he didn’t. Taking a few steps backwards, you hastily turned in your place, ready to run away as fast as you could.

That is, if a body hadn’t impeded your escape. A ‘humph’ escaped you for the second time that night, followed by a scream that you hoped would alert someone and come help you.

“Safe.” The body —a girl? — said, hands raised. “You’re safe.”

Hurried steps resonated on the concrete, getting closer and closer until they came to a halt.

“Jane?” Dick asked, worried. “What happened?”

“I… I…” Words elude you, what could you say? ‘Yeah, my bad, I was trying to escape’? “I just… You didn’t come back and…”

“I see you met Cass” A different voice spoke this time, older and blithely, the voice of someone you would see on those air-headed reality shows. “She’s my daughter, nice to meet you, I’m Bruce Wayne.” The man extended a hand towards you, and your brain short-circuited, looking from his hand to his face, wasn’t he supposed to be ‘missing in another universe’? "Are you alright?"

Coming out of your stupor, you shook his hand, closing your gaping mouth with a click.

“Nice to meet you, sir. Thank you for, uh… For taking me in. I’m… Jane.” You settled on telling him the name Tim had given you, you weren’t sure if they knew your real name, but didn’t want to tell them in case they didn’t. “I’m sorry to be an inconvenience, specially at this hour.”

Now that he was closer and the moon shone on his face, you could appreciate how handsome he was, sure that he was someone who had all kinds of men and women throwing themselves at him.

“You’re not an inconvenience, when Nightwing called I was more than happy to give you a room in my home. And my daughter and I were just getting home after a charity gala, in case you were worried you woke us up.”

“Oh.” His story checked out, as he was dressed in a luxurious tuxedo that probably costed more than your rent, drenched in what looked like wine. And the girl, Cass, was wearing a beautiful but simple black cocktail dress. “Why wait here?”

“You see…” The man, Bruce, or whatever his real name was, cleared his throat, rubbing a hand behind his back, and a coy smile on his face. “I’m trying to avoid certain gossip that has been coming up more with the years.”

Nightwing did his best to not laugh, instead covering it with a couple of coughs, eliciting a heated glance from Bruce.

“As much as I would love to hear the story, I gotta go.” Dick said. “The Scarecrow escaped again and we’re getting close to capture him. Jane?”

He led you a few meters away from Bruce and Cass.

“I know how hard this all must be, but I promise you, you’re safe, there’s no safer place on Gotham than Wayne Manor. But if you ever feel threatened…” He pulled out a rectangular metal plate, barely longer than your hand, with only a red button in the middle. “This is a signal emitter, if you press the button, both Red Robin and I will receive the signal, and we’ll immediately come and get you, wherever you are, okay?”

“Okay.” The gift warmed your heart, tears welling in your eyes. “Thank you.”

He hugged you and led you back again with the Waynes. You watched the Batmobile drive off into the city, the spot getting tinier and tinier until it disappeared.

“Ready to go?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, sure.” You cleaned a stray tear with your sleeve, clearing your throat and followed both to a costly car hidden behind a tree. Sitting on the back seat, with Cass on the passenger seat, and Bruce driving.

The car screamed luxury everywhere you looked, there was even a mini fridge inside, and TV screens on the seat’s backrest. However, it didn’t look like a car that was used too much, maybe only to show off when going to parties, not to do menial tasks, like groceries or errands.

“So, Jane.” Bruce spoke. “How old are you?”

“22.”

“Ah, that’s great! Cass is 23, I’m sure you two will get along just fine!” From the mirror, Cass smiled sweetly at you, which you felt forced to give back. “I have more kids, but they’re not home most of the time, only Cass and Tim are full time living in the manor right now, although Dick has been spending more time there lately.”

“Tim is nice. But he is tired.”

Bruce chuckled, pressing a button on the screen in the dashboard. “Yeah, he loves staying up until late with his silly videogames, don’t feel offended if he doesn’t talk to you, most of the time he won’t recognize people until he’s had his third cup of coffee.”

“Is that… Healthy?”

“No.” Cass replied with a flat tone.

Silence befell the car, moving your sight from the side window to the front when the sound of old gates moving reached your ears, mouth agape and a gasp of awe broke the silence.

At the end of the driveway, a mansion—no, a castle loomed over you, just two windows had their lights on, the rest of them as dark as the night. After getting off the car, you had to crane your neck and a bit more to see the full house.

“We can give you a tour tomorrow, I’m sure you’re tired.” Bruce mentioned, getting back inside the car. “I’ll go park the car in the garage. We prepared a room for you; Cass can show it to you in the meantime. We’ll talk tomorrow morning.”

“Alright. Thank you, Mr. Wayne. Goodnight.”

With a smiled, he closed the door, the gravel under the tires the only thing heard. A small, slender but calloused hand took hold of yours.

“Come.” Most lights were off, only a couple of lamps on helping you to not bump onto the furniture. Paintings adorned the walls you walked alongside, but most faces weren’t visible at this late night. “This is your room. This is mine.” Her’s is directly in front of yours, and you didn’t know whether to feel safe at having another girl nearby, or wary to feel monitored at all times.

“Thank you, Cass. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Turning the knob, you entered the room and made a beeline towards the bed, throwing yourself on top of it. A groan of pleasure escaped your lips once your back touched the softest bed you’d ever slept on.  

With a sigh, you force your eyes open, trying to make sense of everything that’d happened so far.

How had they all managed to get coaxed into this? Who was the mastermind behind it all? What did they want with you?

Was there a miniscule chance that this all was… Real?

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight

Chapter 7

a/n Hiiiii, new chapter yay. Last post I got a request for a tag list, let me know if you're interested in something like that! Also, I'm going to try to keep up the writing schedule I have now so you can expect new chapters every 2-3 days.

word count: 2.5k

Warnings: mentions of a knife and throw up

Other chapters

Hot, humid breath fans the back of your neck as someone or something holds you tight. You struggle against the restraint to no avail. Whatever is holding you has canines that nick and poke at the back of your head. You stiffen as you feel hot liquid rolling down your back, unsure if it's sweat or blood. You’re being pushed and dragged by this monster. It’s a familiar forest, a universe away. Claws press into your hips and you cry out as you feel them press through skin and scrape against bone. You wake mid gasp. Nightmare. That was just a nightmare. It had been a while since you thought of that forest. It was a trap. You had no proof but also no doubt. The lack of light seeping through the curtains let you know it is way too early to start your day. So you focus on breathing hoping sleep takes over soon. 

When you went to breakfast the next morning you were relieved to find the dining room empty. After last night you didn’t know how to interact with Azriel, having told him things that not even your closest friends from home know. So you eat in silence and try to forget about last night, the nightmare and the dread that threatened to spill over whenever you were undistracted for longer than fifteen minutes. 

When you walked into the library Gwyn approached you immediately “Y/n! I’m so glad you are back, yesterday we found something and waiting to tell you has been tortuous” blood drains from your face and you swear your heart stops for a few beats. “What do you mean?” She walks over to a table with at least twenty books sprawled across it. “There is this book that talks about opening portals with a series of symbols, they are extremely intricate and the portal working depends on making the symbols perfectly but it’s totally doable. Then in this book there is a description of different realms that have been accessed by these portals. So, in theory we would just need to figure out which symbols lead to your realm” she finishes and looks at you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on a face. “I… that’s incredible Gwyn, thank you”. You are terrified to get excited about the news. If it doesn’t work… But if it does then that means a way home. “Don’t thank us yet, we still have to figure out the combinations for your realm but I think it should be done by the end of the week”. Jesus, that’s soon. You spend the rest of the day in a daze, fetching books, picturing your life back home and coming up with explanations for your absence. 

By the time dinner rolls around you are starved. “Oh, hi” Azriel half smiles at you “hello, y/n”. You sit in your usual seat across from him, “I’m starving”, fill your plate and begin eating. “How was your day?” You pause your chewing and look at his eyes for the first time since last night “oh, it was alright” you take a sip of water “Gwyn told me that they found something on portals, I could be going home in a few days”. Telling Azriel you’re leaving was hard, goodbye suddenly on the horizon. He takes a few beats to reply “are you happy to be going back?” Right now, you are regretting everything you told him last night. You take a bite and nod. He continues, trying to fill the silence “I’m not surprised Gwyn found a solution so fast. She’s one of the most talented researchers in the library” you nod again. It was true, Gwyn was brilliant, but you didn't appreciate the jealousy that flashed through your chest. That’s something to unpack later. “How was your day?” He looks a little surprised by the question, having accepted that you weren’t in the mood for conversation “it was… productive. Training was good and I got word from one of the spies on the Continent”. You never know what to say when Azriel talks about his position as Spymaster, he didn’t offer details and you didn’t want to pry. You had a feeling that asking too many questions would make you seem suspicious and since you depend on the mercy of the Night Court for food and shelter you thought minding your business was the prudent thing to do. “I haven’t seen Mor in a while, what’s she up to?” His shoulders relax a bit “she’s in the Court of Nightmares for a few days”. Right. The Court of Dreams and Court of Nightmares dichotomy. “And Cassian?” you try to hide the little smirk that will give away your plan to annoy him. “He’s in Windhaven until tomorrow”. He’s so serious. “And Elain?” “Probably at the River House” “And Lucien?” “Somewhere in the human lands, maybe the Spring Court” “and Amren?” “I actually haven’t seen her since last week”. “What about Eris?” He stills. “How do you know Eris?”. His face hardened at the mention of the heir of Autumn. “He came to talk to Lucien at the Manor, I thought I had mentioned it” “you didn’t”. Pivoting, you ask “Nesta?” He runs his hand through his hair “uhm, tonight is girls night so she’s with Gwyn and Emerie getting drunk and gossiping”. That sounds fun. “You know, I meant what I said about teaching you how to use a knife. I could teach you a few self defense techniques before you go” your mind goes to the knife you’re still keeping in your boot “I’d really appreciate that, Azriel. I’m so tired of being easy prey, I wanna be able to put up a fight”. “Great, meet me here at dawn” he gets up “sleep well” and walks away. Dawn? 

You’re tired, but there's too much on your mind. So after dinner you find yourself  at the library where Nesta keeps all of her romances. “I swear Cassian steals my novels and uses the smut as inspiration” their three distinct laughters fill the room. You chuckle as Emerie goes to pour herself wine but Nesta snatches the bottle before and pours a glass for herself. “Do you mind if I crash your girls night?” the Valkyries look at you, not having noticed your presence and you hear an excited “eeek” as Gwyn tackles you. “Beautiful y/n of course you can join us! Here, have some wine” she hands you a glass that’s full to the brim and you take a few healthy sips “we were gossiping about the boys”. Nesta raises her eyebrows “y/n, be careful with that wine, it’s not meant for humans” you gulp. “Oh god, what’s gonna happen to me?” Nesta laughs “nothing, it’s just really strong. Anyway, he thinks I don't notice but last night he basically played out the bath scene from that novel we read last week” all of you giggle “lucky girl” Emerie teases. “What about you, y/n? Any good gossip to share with the group?” You sip the wine, already feeling light headed “not really”. Nesta’s eyes glitter with something you can’t quite place as she says “has anything happened with Azriel?” she wiggles her brows and you choke. Seeing her this playful is unusual and the idea about you and Azriel is so absurd “no, he’s just been a friend” “I’m sure he wants to be more than that…” you shake your head, sipping more wine. “Not even one kiss?” Emerie asks “not even a hug” she frowns “bummer”. You feel pressured to tell them something interesting so you say “you didn’t hear it from me, but I think there’s something going on with Vassa and Jurian”. The hours fly by between the wine, the stories and the speculating. It is almost dawn when you knock on Azriel’s door. 

“Y/n?” his sleep laced voice echoes in the hallway.  You hiccup “Azriel there is no way I can train with you”. “You joined girls night” he states “you spied on us?” He crosses his arms across his chest “it’s my job”. “You are just nosy,” he yawns, “can I help you with something?” “I’ve been keeping a secret,” you whisper. The dim hallway conceals the way his face pales at your confession “what do you mean?” You look around, double checking nobody else is here and step closer to him. He’s tall, much taller than you so you grab his shirt and he leans forward to meet you at eye level. He’s pale and stiff as a board as you move your face closer to his, until your lips are just about to touch his ears and in the softest voice he’s ever heard say “I think it was a trap”. He pulls away slightly to look at your face, maybe you’re messing with him. But the worry pouring from your eyes lets him know you are not joking. “I think whoever opened the portal used me to test it out”. He’s wide awake now and your eyes are droopy. “Why do you think that?” You yawn and rub your eyes. “I need to get to bed” he grabs your forearm and asks again “y/n, why do you think that?” Your eyes are basically closing themselves and you mumble “cause, there were no sounds and-” another yawn cuts you off. Azriel straightens up and leads you to your room, he’ll ask more questions tomorrow. He pulls the covers from your bed and you collapse on top of all the decorative pillows. Azriel places the covers over you and lets you sleep. 

You feel the pounding in your head before you even open your eyes. After a few minutes you open your eyes and close them again. A couple of more minutes you open them again. It takes a moment to build up the courage to move to a sitting position. Once you do, your gut flips and you bolt to the bathing room, emptying the contents of your stomach. Cold sweat coats your forehead and your back. You sigh, defeated. Slowly, you splash your face with cold water and return to your bed but stop when you see something on your bedside table.  A note, a smokey looking beverage, bread and butter. You pick up the note and admire the precise calligraphy “Drink this tonic for your hangover. The lesson has been moved to after lunch. Meet me on the terrace. Bring the knife. Azriel”. You don’t really remember your conversation from last night but you guess you were drunk enough that Azriel figured you would not be getting up for the lesson. You take a few bites of the bread and sip the concoction and gag at the foul taste. Then, you collapse on the bed, having a few more hours to sleep before your lesson.  

You feel much better when you wake up the second time, managing to tie your hair with a ribbon and putting on your old leggings, a fleece tunic and your boots. When you walk onto the terrace you shiver. The wind lets you know that Autumn has fully set in. “Good morning” the shadow singer greets with a teasing smirk. “Thank you for the provisions” you approach him, rubbing your arms for warmth “maybe we could have the lesson in an ice box, it would be less windy”. “You have to be prepared for the elements, y/n. Where’s the knife?” You pull it from your boot “right here” and wave it around, pretending to attack him. “So, the first thing to know is to not wave it around like that” he’s serious now. I hate when he gets all monotone. “Let’s start by seeing what you would do if you were immobilized”. Fast as lightning he lunges towards you and grabs you, pinning both arms to your sides. You shriek, not expecting that “Azriel this is ridiculous” he doesn’t let up “didn't Lucien drag you across an entire forest while you tried to get away?” You huff “that’s not fair, I would have gotten free but he knocked me against a tree”. “You were too slow, you have to learn to react on instinct. Now, try to get away” you swear he gripped you even tighter. You begin to thrash, trying to headbutt him, biting, scratching, pinching, screaming, but nothing works. Until you begin to kick your legs wildly and knee his groin. He groans and his hold on you falters for a second. You bring your hands to his chest and push him away while ducking. It’s messy but you get away. Until a calloused hand grabs your shoulder and your back meets his chest again only this time there's a blade pressed to your neck. “And then you’re dead” you roll your eyes “I think I did a great job” he lets you go and you immediately miss his warmth “I think we have a lot of work to do”. You stay on the terrace until nightfall and by the end of the lesson you are able to use the knife, more or less.  

You’re walking towards the dining room when Azriel asks “do you remember what you told me last night?” Oh god what did I say? “No, things got hazy half way through Gwyn’s story about some ribbon cutting ceremony… or something to that effect”. He stops walking and lowers his voice “you told me you think the portal was a trap, is that true?” Your throat goes dry and you nod. “I’m sorry I woke you up for that, it’s just a thought I had” he insists “why?” You let out a breath and explain your reasoning. The dead air, the lack of life around the circle, the mist that caged you in and the feeling of being watched. He nods, taking all of it in. You feel embarrassed. He probably thinks I’m crazy. “I’ll contact my spies to see if they’ve seen anything recently” you appreciate it, you really do but you can’t go down this spiral again “can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m starving”. You reach the dining room and are greeted by the smell of food and Nesta and Cassians conversation. “Y/n! Glad to see you on two feet, Nesta was worried you died after last night” you roll your eyes and sit down. “How did you feel today?” Nesta asked “I threw up when I woke up but Azriel left me a drink that helped with the hangover” you pretend you don’t notice Nesta’s raised brows. 

The following morning you return to the library and see Gwyn writing notes in a notebook. “Hi Gwyn”. “Oh, hi y/n.” she doesn’t look up “I’m copying the symbols we think might lead to your realm. If you’d like we can try it out right now, we just need to find an open space and some paint”  A few minutes later she finishes and frowns when she sees your expression “what’s wrong?” “Do you think this could actually work?” She looks unsure “maybe”.

[rosethornewrites]

T & G reading since 11/10

Tumblr has issues with imbedding links, so sometimes the URL is included.

Finished

Teen:

後悔莫及 (Too Late for Regrets), by liverbiver9 (7 chapters)

Jiāng Yànlí dies and wakes up outside Lotus Pier fifteen years before the Massacre at Nightless City. Armed only with Chénqíng and her wits, she attempts to change the events that led to so much death, at the cost of never seeing her family again. She doesn’t expect to find love along the way.

i want the storm inside you awoken now (i want your warm bright eyes), by Ariaste (2nd in a series) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/27657362)

Meng Yao is 99.999% certain that absolutely no one from the HOA (and specifically none of the board members) will even be aware of tonight's event, let alone in attendance. Thus, the extremely rare opportunity to enact a particular gremlin move (as Wei Wuxian would call it) that he has been sitting on for some time.

***

Two gremlins, having muttered conversations in the back seat of the car, five feet apart cause they're totally not friends.

The Little Lost Piece..., by Liebing (https://archiveofourown.org/works/32414491)

As Lan Zhan and A-Yuan drove away, the little boy shook with excitement. He was going to see where his father worked. He was going to get to see his dad’s office and where he ate his lunch and where he kept all his important work things. A-Yuan reminded himself that he had to be good. He remembered that daddy had told him he had a really busy day and he needed A-Yuan to be very, very well behaved. A-Yuan straightened up in his car seat. Today, he vowed he would be on his best behaviour...

Explosion, by angel-loving-star (xASx) (🔒, 2 chapters) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/38708748/chapters/96782808)

She had never heard her laugh like this before. Nobody had made her laugh like this before.

The wind picked up and they were close. Giggling pattered off into the calm sounds of Yunmeng’s summer; the lapping of water against wood, the creaking of the bamboo shades hanging from above, the jiggling of Jiang spirit bells in the wind.

Their eyes met just before their lips did and suddenly it was no mere peck anymore. Suddenly the world was full of colours Qin Su had never dared to see before.

King of the Impossible, by sami (3 chapters, part of 2 series) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/48345499/chapters/121932874)

mei

I should inform you that I have threatened baby and bunny with my wrath if they talk to you about work in any non-emergency situation for at least three months. You are on holiday until further notice.

General:

awakening that was due to me, by Kieron_ODuibhir (https://archiveofourown.org/works/60217663)

It was a testament to the regularity of the Lan Sect lifestyle that Lan Wangji woke up and began his day without noticing anything out of the ordinary. It was only after he had set his morning tea to steep that he realized there was no evidence of A-Yuan in the house.

A Very Welcome Visitor, by Liebing

Lan Zhan is preparing for Wei Ying’s arrival…and when he doesn’t come, Lan Zhan is crushed. The third time Lan Zhan is disappointed by Wei Ying, Lan Huan decides to take matters into his own hands and sets out to find the black robed scoundrel who keeps breaking his brothers heart.

Dawning, by Onomatopoetikon (https://archiveofourown.org/works/39392772)

Lan Wangji wakes up. Wei Ying is there.

Just a few moments of fluff.

had a marvelous time ruining everything, by livinginaworldofnoise (2 chapters) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/57018637/chapters/145003936)

“Great news, though—well, actually, it may depend how you define ‘great.’” Wei Wuxian folds himself into a cross-legged position and makes a sweeping gesture with one arm toward the closet, from which Lan Wangji can now hear a strange rattling noise. “While you were gone I managed to catch another one!”

“Another . . . cat?” Lan Wangji pulls the closet door open wider and stares at the cage he finds there, inside of which a small black cat is clinging to the ceiling bars with all the desperation of a cornered wild animal.

“That’s Volcano!” Wei Wuxian says by way of explanation. “She’s a little spicy.”

OR: 5 times wangxian's feral kittens get in the way of lan wangji proposing + 1 time they help

the serpent of fate, by littledust

When Zhao Zhuliu is a child, a fortuneteller predicts that his death will take the form of a serpent.

Orchid at the Foot of the Mountain, by stiltonbasket (49th in a series)

“Xiongzhang and Gege and Jueying all know where they come from,” Shuilan said to herself, on a chilly green morning in the spring of her ninth year. “And Qing-jiejie didn’t come to the Cloud Recesses until she was almost grown up, so it’s different for her.”

And then, very quietly, she whispered:

“Everyone’s parents died but mine, and Chun-bao never had any others to start with. I’m the only one of us who was sent away.”

Or: Wei Shuilan contemplates the secrets of her past, and grapples with the prospect of never learning anything more about them.

Unfinished

Teen:

so i cut the shackles and changed my name, by MichelleFeather (https://archiveofourown.org/works/58005280/chapters/147671179)

“A-Ying, should anything happen, should you be separated from us or find yourself in need of help, find Lan Qiren in Cloud Recesses. No matter what’s happened, he will keep you safe. He has sworn to me his home will always be open to you, no matter what.”

Following the advice of his late mother, Wei Ying runs away from Lotus Pier, knowing that if he were to stay, he would likely die at the hands of Madam Yu.

And, he finds, the Lan Clan is the place where he was always supposed to be.

Something Told Me It Was You, by lordhuachengzhu (https://archiveofourown.org/works/39404898/chapters/98615043)

Wei Ying believed in the myth of past lives. Mostly because he could remember his.

Even when he was young he knew something was off in his heart. There was a piece missing, and he wanted to find it.

He wanted to be complete.

“Wei Ying, it’s going to be alright.” The voice was warm and calming, and Wei Ying felt as if he had waited every life just to hear it.

He opened his eyes and met Lan Wangji’s intense golden ones.

“Lan Zhan, you don’t know what I did.”

Song of Clarity, by vicchan (https://archiveofourown.org/works/29266413/chapters/71868411)

Hanguang Jun, one of the Twin Jades of Gusu, had a pristine reputation for ‘being wherever the chaos is’ and is both revered and respected throughout the cultivation world as the perfect example of what a cultivator should be. What was not so well known, was that Hanguang Jun had made one great mistake in his overwise exemplary life, one that had cost him dearly. Thirteen years later, that very mistake returns to haunt him. This time, however, Lan Wangji will not allow the tragedies of the past to repeat themselves.

A retelling of MDZS from Lan Wangji's perspective.

General:

This is My Best (But It's Still Not Enough), by piecrust (https://archiveofourown.org/works/30209718/chapters/74438730)

The thing is, is that his wife is almost right.

Almost.

Jiang Fengmian did find and bring Wei Wuxian to Yunmeng because of old love.

But it wasn’t Cangse Sanren. He had been in love long before she came down from the mountains.

---

A Canon-Divergence where Jiang Fengmian survives but it doesn't fix anything at all.

An Unforseen Shift, by Remma3760 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/59157619/chapters/150841318)

Wei Wuxian found a resentful sword deep in the bowels of a famed beast. He took it. That turned out to be fortunate since, it would seem, the sword had more than one purpose. That sword was the key to their escape from certain death trapped in the cave of the Slaughter Xuanwu.

[satansapostle6]

The Man Who Sold The World | Luke Castellan

Spotify Playlist Link

Katherine. She was the one who started it all for Luke Castellan, the reason he did what he did.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Violence. Smut. Oral(F receiving). Slight overstimulation.

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen: A Thousand Years

Katherine and Luke knew they had to be careful about the way they recruited people. They knew they had to eventually get enough people to join their cause, but they also knew that they couldn’t make too much noise too quickly. That would only get them caught faster.

They were careful about who they considered, and how they lured them in. But Luke and Katherine played it safe, not starting off telling many campers at all. Luke had started off with the most disgruntled malcontents first; they were the least work to recruit. They were careful and methodical because they couldn’t afford any mistakes; one wrong move and their plan could be set back months, or years.

Unfortunately, they weren’t off to the best start considering the two of them had racked up a total of three fights with other campers in less than two weeks of being at the camp. As much as Luke loved having Katherine close to him at the place he called home, he knew something about it just didn’t work as well as it should’ve. And of course, not having a soul in her body, Katherine had come up with a plan to maximize their army of demigods that Luke didn’t particularly like.

Katherine had decided that, although she too liked spending time with her boyfriend and living at the camp, she worked best on the road. So, the two of them eventually agreed that she would leave the camp for about a few months or so at a time, recruiting as many other scattered and disenfranchised demigods from around the country as she could.

Luke knew it was a good plan, but that didn’t stop him from hating it. He stood outside the barrier that day, watching Katherine regretfully as she loaded all of her belongings and supplies into the old Pontiac, deciding to leave the shrunken sarcophagus with Luke at the camp. The goodbyes certainly weren’t permanent, but that still didn’t stop them from being entirely reluctant.

“I don’t want you to go,” Luke admitted in a low tone as he watched her say goodbye.

“I know,” Katherine looked up at him as she touched her hand to his chest, playing with the various necklaces wrapped around his neck.

One was his necklace from camp, decorated with a unique bead for each year he’d lived at the camp, and one was a long, silver chain with a bullet-shaped pendant on it that held one of the ones he’d dug out of Katherine’s body. He’d given it to a Hephaestus kid to turn into a piece of jewelry, hoping he could carry a piece of Katherine around with him.

She’d joked that both he and the bullet had been inside her at one point or another.

“I have something for you… Before you go,” he remembered, staring at her as he tried to engrave this moment in its entirety into his head before she left.

“You do?” she asked, not expecting a going-away present.

“Yeah. Here,” he said softly, pulling something from his pocket.

Katherine looked down at his open hand, revealing a silver necklace.

“I had it made. Just for you,” he said, holding it out as she took it. “Beckendorf, the Hephaestus kid, made it. And Claire enchanted it,” he told her.

Katherine held the dainty silver chain in her hand, examining the beautiful pendant on it. It was a beautiful, red sort of glassy stone with an ornate silver backing to it.

“What does it do?”

“It’s magic. It’s tied to my necklace,” Luke explained, touching the large bullet-shaped pendant he wore around his neck. “If you touch it, I can hear you talking, and vice versa. That way, it’ll be like we’re still here together.”

Katherine smiled up at him, turning around as he gently swept her long hair out of the way, wrapping the small necklace around her as he fastened it. She turned to look at him, eyes full of love as he felt charmed by her all over again.

“Beautiful,” he said softly, and she could tell he said it with his heart.

Katherine sighed, throwing her arms around him as she leaned in for a kiss, this one long and passionate as he desperately savored the sweet taste of her lips. Luke breathed into it softly, cupping her cheeks in his hands as they lightly traced the shape of her face. He pulled away reluctantly, staring straight into her dark eyes.

“You’re everything to me,” he reminded her.

“I’ll never leave you. Not really,” she promised him, her hand slowly brushing his chest until it stopped over his heart.

“Don’t forget about me, okay?” he teased, trying to keep a sense of humor.

“I couldn’t.”

“Hey,” he murmured, his hands on either side of her face. “Do whatever you have to to get people to join our cause. I don’t care what you have to do. If someone’s in love with you, then that’s your angle.”

“Luke,” she frowned. “I might not have a soul, but I still—”

“It’s okay,” he assured her in a comforting whisper. “I trust you.”

“I trust you too,” she promised him.

“I’ll always love you first,” he nodded.

“I’m gonna get in the car,” Katherine announced softly, slowly opening the door as she sat down in the driver’s seat.

She closed the car door, looking out at him from inside the car as she forcibly got used to the fact that there was a car between them. Seeing him through the window, she touched a hand to the red stone, smiling as she watched him.

“I love you,” she said quietly.

Luke smiled sadly, touching the pendant hanging around his own neck, knowing that would probably be the last time he’d see her at least until Christmas. It wasn’t quite September yet.

“Tell me that every day,” he replied.

“Every morning, and every night,” she whispered, backing up the car and turning to leave.

Luke stood there outside the campgrounds as he watched until minutes after her car had completely disappeared. He stood there for a moment, praying to no one in particular for her safety. Just as he was ready to turn back to the camp, he saw that someone had seen him from inside, and had crept over the boundary.

“You really love her. Don’t you?”

Annabeth Chase sometimes had the worst timing for the inescapable truth. But in that movement, the way she said that, Luke felt as if she hadn’t expected it to be true as she stood there with her Yankees cap in hand, having been invisible for the past few minutes.

“I really wish you wouldn’t do that,” Luke sighed humorously, a warning smile on his face.

“Answer the question.”

He sighed in response, knowing he couldn’t deflect.

“Yeah,” he nodded, standing there as the silver bullet, usually tucked into his shirt, lay flat against his chest like a cross symbolizing faith and devotion. “I do,” he told her.

“Hmm,” she said, deep in thought.

That was all Annabeth had to say to him before she turned around and disappeared, leaving him.

*****

Almost One Year Later

Over the next nine months or so, Luke had seen his girlfriend on five different visits to the camp, each about a week or so in length. It was cruel, how seldom he was able to see his own girlfriend, but the headway they’d made in building loyalty to Kronos made up for it. The Titan was actually pleased with them.

While Luke mostly remained at Camp-Half Blood convincing other demigods to join Kronos’s army, Katherine was busy traveling the country and searching for demigods scorned by the gods of Olympus, while actually managing to get through to a few monsters along the way.

Much to Luke’s relief, he had gotten word halfway through the summer that Katherine would be able to come back to New York and visit the camp for a little while. She had told Luke to anticipate her arrival in mid-July, and so he waited anxiously for her to return for a visit, hashing out the details of a secret plan he’d been waiting to share with her.

The last time he’d seen her was in late, late May, when she had arrived some time after his nineteenth birthday. But Luke didn’t mind too much; he would’ve waited a thousand years just to see her.

In the meantime, the two of them had been making significant progress in recruiting, and were beginning to wonder how they would proceed to the next phase of their plan; turning the Olympian gods against one another and creating chaos. Luckily, together, Katherine and Luke excelled at chaos.

“Oh, baby, I’m so, so glad you’re home,” Luke moaned into the crook of Katherine’s neck as he tackled her to the bed they’d once shared.

“Home?” Katherine teased, laughing as his kisses tickled her. “I’ve been staying in motels since I left.”

“Your home is here,” he insisted, his kisses reaching her collarbone, “Because this is where I am.”

His kisses really did itch her skin, a light layer of nearly invisible stubble on his face scratching her softly.

“Baby, did you forget to shave?” Katherine wondered.

“I got too excited,” he murmured, nuzzling his head between her breasts. “Sorry, love, looks like you’re getting carpet burn tonight.”

“It’s three o’clock,” she reminded him.

“By the time I’m done with you, it’s gonna be nighttime,” he promised her, in a lovesick haze.

Katherine groaned as he suckled on he breast, taking her nipple in between his teeth as his hands squeezed her bare hips. She was naked the moment they entered the room, and he definitely wasn’t too far behind.

He lifted her legs up in one swift motion, expertly throwing her around like a rag doll. He let her bare legs rest on his shoulders, conveniently bunching her body up as he took turns sucking on each nipple while her hand was tangled in his short sandy-colored hair.

“I love you so much,” he said huskily as he focused on her neck again, making her giggle.

“I love you, baby,” she echoed.

He slowly moved down her body, his kisses moving down from her chest, to her stomach, to her navel, as he stopped with his hands squeezing the soft flesh on her hips. His grip on her thighs hardened, as he buried his face in between them, pressing a soft kiss to her clit, sending a kind of electrical surge of pleasure to her brain through the bundle of nerves.

He hadn’t seen his girlfriend in over a month and he intended to make up for lost time.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet,” he gasped, reveling in his work-of-art girlfriend. “I’m gonna have you dripping by the time I’m done with you… God, I’m in love!”

She gasped softly as he flicked his tongue up and down between her folds, the heat from his mouth seeming to spread all over her body. She could feel every place where his lips, and tongue, and hands had been, and it burned, aching for more.

He groped her thighs hungrily, making her legs shake and tremble as he sucked on her clit. She felt herself feeling dizzier and dizzier, wanting to scream with pleasure, like the best roller coaster in existence. Luke was absolutely a giver; he naturally loved when Katherine pleasured him, but nothing made him feel stronger than doing everything in his power to make her come over and over again.

Luke stopped for a moment, enjoying the view before him as if he were being presented with some sort of feast.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned. “You’re my goddess,” he worshipped her.

Katherine looked up at him in awe, eyes lazy with pleasure as she watched him standing over him, muscular and glistening as he worked hard just to pleasure her as best as he could. She knew what he meant when he said that she looked like a god.

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” Luke mumbled, pressing lazy, affectionate kisses to her lips. “You want me to fuck your tight little pussy?”

“Do it,” she moaned into his mouth, gasping as he did the same. “Fuck me like you mean it. Show me how much you love me,” she egged him on.

“Fuck, baby, I’ll show you just how much I love you,” he rambled on and on as he pulled down his briefs, painfully hard cock springing free. “I’ll fuck you so good. My princess, my goddess.”

She laughed excitedly as he threw her legs back over her shoulders, sighing as he felt her ankles behind his head. He leaned down as he pressed more rough, loving kisses to the side of her neck, sighing at her unique sent.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” he gasped, “I fucking love that perfume.”

He kissed her over and over until the only thing she could remember was his name.

“Luke,” she whined, “Fuck…”

She sighed as he stood back up, her legs still over his shoulders as he slowly buried himself inside her, gasping at the sensation of her closing around him.

“Fuck, so tight, baby,” he moaned. “Fuck…”

It took a moment before he remembered what he was doing, slowly thrusting in and out of her as she moaned in ecstasy. Every time, she realized she’d forgotten in her absence just how huge he was. He was 6’1”, and he felt 6’1”. He slowly picked up the pace, hypnotized by the sight of her enjoying him beneath him, using him for her pleasure as she pleased.

Katherine gasped eagerly as he thrusted in and out faster than he had the entire time, fucking her so hard they both felt dizzy. He kept his hands wrapped around her thighs, squeezing them hard, almost for balance as he thrusted. He was light-headed, so lost in the sensation he wasn’t even sure if he had been breathing or not throughout the whole thing.

“I love you so much, baby,” he groaned out loud.

“I love you,” she mumbled incoherently.

Katherine’s legs trembled involuntarily as she finished with a sigh, slowly beginning to see less and less as black spots continued to enter her vision. Luke sighed as he finally came, overtaken by the feeling of her coming around his dick. He eventually stopped and flopped down beside her on the bed, looking to her to gauge how she was feeling.

Luke turned to Katherine to simply admire her as she lay beside him, but he began to feel a bit more concerned as he watched her forcing her eyes shut.

“Hey,” he breathed, sitting up beside her as he rested his hand on her shoulder, “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said quickly, still seeming dizzy, “I’m fine…”

“You don’t look okay,” he thought, frowning as he helped her to sit up.

“No, I’m okay, baby, I just need a second,” she sighed.

He said nothing, watching as she slowly opened her eyes, trying to adjust.

“Here, lemme see your temperature,” he said finally, affectionately touching the back of his hand to her forehead. “Ooh. You feel a little warm there, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’ve just been stressed,” Katherine sighed. “It’s just been affecting me more often.”

“Affecting you? How?” Luke asked, concerned.

“I’ve just been getting tired a lot,” she told him, “It’s not that bad… I just get a little winded.”

“You know what, here, lemme see if you’re warm all over, maybe you’re dehydrated or something,” Luke offered, slowly touching the back of his hand to various points all over her body.

He sat there, stumped, as he touched her forehead, her arm, her chest, her stomach, and her legs, trying to discern whether something was wrong. His initial fear was that this somehow had something to do with Katherine’s missing soul.

“I mean, you feel fine, for the most part,” he thought, his hand slowly moving back up her body.

His hand moved back up to her abdomen, where he hesitated for a second.

“Oh. You feel really warm right here,” he said with concern, “Maybe we should go to the infirmary.”

Katherine gave him a look as she slowly rose to her feet, throwing some of his clothes over her body. She decided she’d listen to him, considering the part about her stomach feeling warm sounded a bit concerning.

“I mean, okay, but I feel fine,” she told him, as the both of them got dressed.

Luke carefully walked his girlfriend down to the infirmary, where a bunch of the Apollo kids helped heal wounded or sick campers.

“Hey Lee, what are you doing here?” Luke said, upon realizing one of his friends was there.

Lee Fletcher was the Head Counselor of Cabin 7, Apollo’s cabin. He was just as one would expect a child of Apollo to be, calm, laid-back, and good-humored.

“Hey, Luke. Just taking one of the younger ones to the infirmary; fell off a tree,” he explained. “Hey there, Katherine,” he realized, seeing her standing next to Luke.

“Hey,” she smiled.

“Didn’t realize you were back in town. How was your trip?”

“Not bad,” Katherine shrugged, lying about the nature of her time away from the camp.

“Hey, I don’t wanna be a bother, but do you think you could take a look at Katherine while you’re here?” he asked, hoping to have a familiar face around.

“Oh yeah, sure,” Lee nodded, looking at the cot in front of him, “Here, sit down. Dr. Lee will take a look.”

Katherine sat down as Luke sat at the edge of the cot, next to Lee.

“So, what seems to be the problem?” Lee asked humorously.

“Uh… I don’t know, I’ve just been really tired lately, but I just thought it was stress,” she explained.

“Ah. I see. Well, I could just sing a little hymn to my dad, and then you’ll be cured of whatever you got,” he offered.

“Yeah,” Katherine nodded gratefully, “Perfect. Thanks.”

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded. “Is it okay if I try and see if there’s a specific area it’s confined to? It kinda helps the healing go faster.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” she nodded as Luke watched.

Lee silently touched his hand to her body, almost as Luke had, examining her head, her arms, and her legs, looking confused as he stopped.

“Uh, I don’t know if I’m just wrong, but I don’t think there’s anything actually wrong with you,” Lee admitted with a frown.

“Are you sure?” Luke stared.

“Yeah… Weird. I can get one of the girls to take a look?” Lee Fletcher offered helpfully. “They’re better healers than I am.”

“Okay,” Katherine agreed, not sure whether she should be relieved or more worried.

Lee left for a moment, sending one of the girls who’d been cleaning over to them.

“Hey, I’m April,” a girl with brown hair, maybe about sixteen years old, smiled as she sat down next to Katherine. “Lee said you’re feeling a little tired?”

“Yeah,” Katherine nodded, “Lee said he couldn’t feel anything wrong, but Luke said my stomach felt a little off?”

“Yeah, sure, I can take a look,” she nodded kindly, her hand hovering over the area. “Is it okay if I feel?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” she nodded, as she and Luke both watched.

The healer, April, gently rested her hand on Katherine’s stomach, her brows furrowed as she hesitated, completely frozen as she tried to decide how to proceed.

“What is it?” Luke immediately started to panic. “What do you feel?”

“Uh…” April looked back up at Katherine, a very awkward expression on her face. “Well, I think I know why Lee couldn’t find anything wrong.”

“What is it?” Katherine asked her, not sure what to expect.

“Have you, uh…” April hesitated before forming her words. “Have you ever been pregnant before?”

Luke’s face went pale as Katherine’s eyes lowered. She just stared at the floor for a moment, not saying anything.

“I’m sorry,” April said immediately, “It’s none of my business—”

“I think I have,” Katherine spoke finally, as Luke’s eyes widened.

“You have?” April asked.

“Yeah. I, uh…” it took her a moment to form the words.

She never thought she’d have to speak them out loud.

“I think I was when I was twelve… I think it was a miscarriage,” she explained quietly. “I found a clot.”

“Oh… I’m sorry,” April said softly, not knowing what to say. “It’s just… My mom had my little brother, when I was seven. I touched her tummy, and when she was at about a month or so, it kind of felt… like that,” she provided.

“Okay,” Katherine blurted out quietly, not sure how else to respond. “I think I’m, uh… I think I’m gonna go. Thanks for your help,” she said awkwardly, quickly leaving the room, her arms wrapped around herself as if she was cold.

“Thanks,” Luke said quickly.

April nodded with an apologetic smile as he ran out after Katherine, who he found standing outside the infirmary, nervously facing away from him as if waiting for nothing.

“Hey…”

He started speaking, but didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t talk about it,” Katherine said out of nowhere, trying to explain herself. “I just… saw the blood when I was twelve. Didn’t think anything of it ‘til I was fifteen. A little while before the clot, my dad… Well, you can put the pieces together,” she said uncomfortably.

“Katherine, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Luke promised, standing beside her. “It’s okay.”

She looked into his eyes, and in that moment, she knew it really was okay.

“We—” she involuntarily burst out laughing, completely in disbelief. “We’re gonna have a baby?!” she questioned, the word feeling almost foreign to her.

“We’re gonna have a baby!” he laughed along with her, deciding to feel happy about something for once as he picked her up.

He lifted her up off the ground as she gave a little squeal, laughing hysterically as he spun her around. He held her in his arms as he twirled her around in delight, still laughing as he set her back down on the ground, his hands on her arms as he looked at her.

“We’re gonna have a baby?” he questioned, as if trying out the phrase.

“Yeah!” she exclaimed, smiling as he pulled her into a protective hug, gently stroking her hair as he rested his chin atop her head. “We’re gonna have a baby!”

She squealed with joy for the first time in years. It was kind of sad, but Katherine knew she never would’ve reacted this way if she’d had a soul. ‘Soul’ Katherine never would’ve been able to accept the idea of a baby with Luke, especially at nineteen while building an army for Kronos. Happiness was something entirely exclusive to Soulless Katherine.

-

Chapter Sixteen

[gravitycavity]

[Preview] Sunshine - Chapter 4

Happy Saturday! I'm still working hard on the next chapter of my Pomni x Ragatha fic, Sunshine — but here's a preview of what's to come in Chapter 4!

🎪  🎪  🎪 

Pomni furrowed her brow, gently turning over Ragatha’s arm. She inched her face closer to the doll’s roughly-sutured wounds, squinting as if the answer to their predicament were spelled out somewhere in the frayed silk stiches. “What are you stuffed with, anyway? Cotton?”

Ragatha raised an eyebrow at that. It was Pomni’s turn, apparently, to ask a question totally out of left field. 

“More or less.” Ragatha’s hand rapped on her chest, “But I’m pretty sure I’ve got a heart crammed in here, too. Something that beats, at least.” she shrugged. She’d probably never know what the organ really looked like, but she'd always imagined a cartoon heart fashioned from the same patchy felt as the rest of her body. 

“So you really are just a walking, talking doll!” Pomni beamed, almost giggling. Her voice was brighter and bubblier than Ragatha had ever heard it before. “Oh, that’s great! This is perfect!”

Ragatha rubbed her face — how hard had Pomni’s head hit the ground yesterday? “Perfect…?” she spoke slowly, “How do you figure?"

“Well…” Pomni’s forced laugh was painful to listen to. “D-Do you think you’d be light enough to, uh…” Pomni glanced away, stroking her hair. “W-Would it be okay if I…”

Ragatha wondered if her hand-sewn body came with a stomach as well; she definitely felt something fluttering around in the place she’d expect one to be. She just couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was pint-sized Pomni really about to suggest using her frail little arms to —

“Let me carry you!” Pomni exhaled sharply. Her stammer was gone, burned away by the heat of her passionate glare. “There’s no way I’m gonna let you just sit here and suffer! We’re finishing this stupid adventure and getting you fixed up — today!”

Ragatha was utterly spellbound — but the sly smirk spreading across her face hid her true sentiments well. “Oh, nooo! You're just too kind…” she closed her good eye and swooned just like a debutante. Her button eye spied on Pomni’s reaction — watching the jester get all hot and bothered over her, of all people, was her special form of self-care. “I suppose you could, but I wouldn't want to be a burden~”

"Burden. Give me a break." Wearing a determined look, Pomni scooped the lightweight doll cleanly off of the ground. The way Ragatha’s long, bulky limbs spilled beyond the edges of Pomni’s puny frame, even when curled up, was almost comedic — but Pomni was hardly laughing. “You weigh fifteen pounds soaking wet.”

[abeautylives]

Imperfect Moments - Chapter Five

a/n: Finally, what you’ve all been waiting for. Enjoy 😘

Series Masterlist

pairing: Jakexfemale!reader

word count: almost 6.7k this chapter

series summary: You’re in love with your best friend. His twin brother hates you. Or does he?

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, a little angsty and sad, language, explicit sexual content, oral (m. and f. receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, a tiny bit of biting but you won’t need to squint

Jake K: I’ll be there in 30

Jake K: Ish. I need to stop somewhere first

Me: Take your time, I’m not going anywhere

You hadn’t sent your address until late the following morning, and he hadn’t pressed you for it. Even after a full twenty-four hours more to settle into the idea, your nerves set in about fifteen minutes after you texted it and told him to be there at 8. You hadn’t chosen 8 for any reason, it just seemed safe. Not so early that you’d be expected to entertain him, or God forbid, feed him. Not so late that it seemed like exactly what it is - a fucking bootycall.

Or so you’d thought.

Jake stood in the hallway outside your door for just over three minutes, taking deep breaths and questioning some of his recent decisions, before he knocked. None of it mattered because when you answered, the air expelled from his lungs and all thoughts vacated his brain.

You didn’t look any different from any other time he’d seen you, really. Except for the timid smile that, for once, could only be for him.

Unsure of exactly what kind of occasion to dress for, you’d taken a less is more approach. The black cami dress could pass for sleepwear, and you hadn’t done much to make it appear as more than that. You hadn’t even bothered to put on shoes.

His eyes raked over you from head to toe and back, you could feel them moving across the bare skin of your shoulders, your arms, your legs that are exposed up to mid-thigh. Your skin is tingling under his observance and you bring a hand across your chest to rub at your other arm. The motion seems to break him out of a trance.

“Hey…” Smooth.

“Hi Jake. Umm, come in I guess?” You step aside to let him walk through the door, into your space. It’s small but you’ve done your best to make it feel like yours. When he stops just past you, he looks over the room as you close the door quietly. “It’s not much, one bedroom so there’s really no grand tour.”

“It’s cute, I like it.”

Josh had said the same thing the first time he’d come over. You shake the memory away.

“Did you bring me a gift?” He turns to you with slight confusion on his face. “The wine?”

He’d totally forgotten he was carrying it, the whole reason he’d had to stop on his way. “Oh, yeah. I couldn’t show up empty handed. Not very gentlemanly, ya know?”

The hand holding the bottle is outstretched to you so you move to take it from him. “I didn’t know you had it in you to be a gentleman,” you joke, but instead of handing the bottle over to you, Jake uses your mutual grip on it to pull your body into his. When his other arm circles your waist, he snatches the wine from you.

With only a few inches between your faces, he breathes out over your lips, “I could take it back.” He turns your body with his and walks you backwards into the kitchen, the lack of square footage working to his advantage. When you hit the counter, he sets the bottle onto it behind you and brings that hand up to your jaw. You’d gripped his biceps as he’d pushed you, and he hasn’t moved to release you so you keep your hold on him as well.

For a lingering moment you just stand there, eyes bouncing around each other’s features, waiting to see what the other will do next. When he doesn’t move in, or away, you figure this is your game and you’re playing by your rules. Your hands glide up his arms and over his shoulders, fingertips sliding up the sides of his neck until they’re sunk into his hair. He still doesn’t make a move.

Leaning in close, your lips touch and when you brush them over his he still doesn’t kiss you.

“I take it back. It seems you are a gentleman.”

Your whisper against his mouth leaves his lips tingling as they curl up into a smirk. He still doesn’t kiss you.

“I can be. I can be whatever you want.”

At that, your lips push forward into his and he finally returns it. Just one kiss before he pulls away.

“Have a drink with me. Just one, before-“

You cut him off with your lips pressed together again, your fingers now gripping the hair at the base of his neck. His hold on you tightens when you tug gently, and he pulls you away from the counter and against his chest. When a small mmph escapes your lips they open to him slightly and instead of deepening the kiss, he hesitates again and breaks it, waiting for the right moment to finally taste you.

Pressing his forehead to yours he breathes out, “Please Y/N, have a drink with me. I’m not here just to get you in bed.”

Pulling your face away, your hands still locked into his hair and his hold still on your jaw, you search his eyes with yours. And find nothing but sincerity there under lowered eyelids.

“You’re not?”

He chuckles at the surprise in your tone. “No. I mean, I want that and if you still want that after… I promise I’ll give you whatever you want. Anything.”

Your hands slip from his hair and he waits for your response, eyes still locked on to yours. You let your head tilt just to the side as you assess him. Who is this and what did he do with Jake?

With a nod, you accept his offer. “Okay, let’s drink then.” Turning out of his hold to find a bottle opener, you tell him where to find wine glasses and he goes to search the cabinet you’ve indicated. Taking a seat at your little pub table, all you can manage to fit in the limited space, you wait as he pours both glasses and settles into the other chair, his body turned to you.

“Cheers?” His glass is held out to you and when you touch yours to it, you return a cheers and watch over the rim of your glass as he takes a heavy sip.

“Are you nervous, Jacob?” You can’t imagine it to be true, but you think back to the party. He’d cornered you with full confidence, but he seemed to change into a different person as soon as you’d broken down. You really don’t know him at all.

“Honestly, a little.” He’s softly laughing it off but you’re intrigued.

“About what? It’s just me.”

That’s exactly it. It’s you, he’s been wanting you from a distance for as long as he’s known you and now that he’s here, he doesn’t know what the next move is. He tells you a version of the truth.

“I’ve imagined some variation of this moment hundreds of times.” He picks up on the surprise in your eyes. “I’ve dreamed about it a few times.” Pausing to consider how much to elaborate on that information, he decides to specify. “In my dreams I’ve already had you under me, screaming my name.”

You cough, choking on the wine you’d been trying to swallow. A pleased smile spreads over his mouth as you cover yours and then wipe it with the back of your hand as you recover.

“Jake you hate me.”

“I’ve never hated you.”

He’s shocked you a few times over the last couple of days, but the look on your face right now is priceless.

“I haven’t hated you at all, this whole time. But you’re his, and I have hated that.” His throat feels dry with his admission and he takes a long drink from his glass while you process it. You stay silent for a moment and he watches the small frown pull the corners of your mouth downward, your eyes dropping to your hands wrapped around your glass on the table.

“But I’m not his. I never was.”

Josh is really the last person he wants to talk about but he thinks that maybe you need to.

“I’m sorry.”

“Funny how you’ve been apologizing for him recently.” It sounds bitter as it leaves your mouth.

“This’ll be the last time. I am sorry he hurt you, that you’ve been hurting for so long. I know you love him.”

Your eyes snap back to his. “Of course I love him, he’s my best friend.” The defense in your voice lets him know that you still think you’ve been hiding your feelings well. He plans to expose the truth before he keeps his initial promise made to you in secret in a dark hallway.

“You’re in love with him, Y/N. You know it, I know it, and even though I’ve watched him pretend it’s not true, I’m pretty sure he knows it.”

You scoff in offense, but he’s not done.

“He loves you too, but not the way you want him to.”

That crack from the night before creeps across his heart further as he watches the hurt cloud your features and your eyes turn glassy. He can see your mind turning, pretty sure you’re considering cursing in his face and kicking him out of your apartment. When you turn your body to face him fully, he thinks you might do just that.

“And what about you, hm? How do you actually feel about me?”

Without having to ponder over it at all, he answers, “I feel like I could treat you better, if you let me.”

The pain that had settled in over Josh starts to mutate, an amorphous mass heavy in your chest, you can feel it change into something lighter as it melts and starts to flow through your veins. Jake watches as it alters your expression. When you blink, a single tear spills over and he feels that crack nearly split his heart in half, but it threatens to burst when you speak.

“Please.” It’s so quiet that it hardly breaks through the silence of the room.

He’s on his feet and pulling you out of your chair before you’re even sure that he’s heard you. Once you’re pressed into his body, his arms are wrapped around you exactly as they had been in the front hallway of his house, hands running over your hair and back. This time though, they’re touching your bare skin exposed at the top of your dress and you let out a whimper at the sensation as your own find his chest.

Into your hair, against the shell of your ear he murmurs, “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop. Tell me to keep going and I will. You want this?” He uses his hands to guide your face back to his, to see your eyes when you say it.

“Please.” It’s all he needs to hear and his lips are on yours, pressed firmly against them and this time when they open on a gasp, he doesn’t hesitate. The tip of his tongue slips over your bottom lip before going further, and you meet it with your own. As soon as they touch he lets a groan rumble through his chest and out into your mouth. You accept it greedily as your fingers roam over his chest and down his stomach where they find the only two buttons he ever bothers to fasten. Blindly you’re working to undo them, and once they’re free you’re pushing the fabric off of his shoulders. He doesn’t break the kiss as he shrugs out of it and tosses it aside. His hands come back to rest on either side of your waist before running down the thin material of your dress and settling on your hips. You let yours travel slowly up the curves and ridges of his torso before splaying them out just below his collar bones.

His lips begin to explore, pressing a kiss to your cheek, your jaw, before landing at your neck just below your ear. The whine that crawls from your throat has his fingers digging into you and bunching your dress into his fists, his teeth dragging over the same spot before he soothes it with another kiss.

“Jake…” His name rolls off your tongue coated in a sensuality that feels foreign, as if your own mouth knows that it’s doing something it shouldn’t.

Face still tucked into your neck, he hums into your skin rather than forming words.

“More.”

Before it’s occurred to either of you what you’re asking for more of, your feet are off the floor, arms flying around his neck as he lifts you with a grip on the back of each thigh. You don’t even get them wrapped around his waist before you’re deposited onto the kitchen counter you’d been pressed against not all that long ago. The cold surface makes you flinch as it hits the uncovered skin of your backside, but warm palms are sliding along your thighs and rough fingers creeping up under the hemline of your skirt.

His eyes are following the trail his hands are blazing until they disappear under the fabric. When he lifts them to yours, there’s lust distending his pupils, the black nearly overtaking his honeyed irises.

“More?” You almost don’t recognize the voice that comes out of him. You’ve actually heard him speak so few times, more in the last forty-eight hours than in the last year and a half, but you’ve never had the pleasure of hearing this. It dazes you, all you can do is nod. He nods in return before pushing his palms farther up your legs and as his fingertips reach the junctions where thigh meets hip, his eyebrows shoot skyward.

You merely raise one in response as you let a brazen smirk take shape.

“Are you fucking naked under this?”

The wonder in his tone makes you laugh. “Aren’t we all naked under our clothes?”

He’s looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time, like he’s never known you at all before this moment. You figure he really hasn’t.

Dropping his eyes again, he shifts his hands so that the hem lifts and bunches further, more of your skin displaying for him.

“Can I look at you?” It’s a bold question, but his fingers are already playing over sensitive skin, so close to what he wants to see. “Please?”

There’s no way you’d deny him. Rather than answer, you tug the hem a little higher with your own fingers, his eyes glued to your movements. Slowly, savoring the attention and the way his breathing has picked up, you inch the fabric closer to your core until just one last tug would expose your cunt to him. His eyes dart up to yours but when he sees you’re watching and waiting for his reaction, he drops them again.

When you pull the fabric up and past his own hands, let it settle there so that his own fingers are holding it in place, you hold your breath as he takes in the sight.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Look at you.” Eyes back on your face, he whispers, “You’re fucking perfect.”

As heat blooms over your cheeks your breath comes out as a self deprecating laugh. “No, I’m not.”

Offense marks his features but quickly turns back to wonderment when you begin sliding the thin straps down your shoulders slowly. He watches with rapt attention as you slip your arms through and when the top of your dress falls to meet the rest already gathered around your hips, his jaw drops.

Not sure where to focus his stare, his eyes roam over your bared chest and back down to where your legs are spread before they take a slow journey back up to your face.

“No, you definitely are. Beautiful, stunning even.” When you stay silent, he continues. ��I already knew that, though…

Let me take you to bed, show you how lovely you are.”

“Okay.” It’s barely an affirmation, but he’s already lifting you from the counter to place you on your feet. As they hit the ground so does your dress, falling from your hips. Feeling emboldened by his compliments, you let it land there and bask in his gaze for a moment as he trails it over your completely naked body. “Let’s go.”

Taking his hand in yours, you turn to lead him to your bedroom. He kicks the boots off of his feet as he follows but not too closely, preferring to leave some distance so he can soak in the view.

Crossing the threshold into the room, he looks it over as he had done when he entered the apartment. It’s also small, almost taken over by the queen size bed tucked into the corner, illuminated in a soft glow by a lamp on a bedside table. Before you can offer up any comment on the space, you’re being tugged around him and pressed into the wall beside the door. His lips seek out the side of your neck again before slipping down over your shoulder. When your hands move to his belt he pulls his head back to watch you unfasten it.

He doesn’t want to miss a moment of this.

Pulling the belt through the loops of his jeans, you let it fall to the ground and then pop the button. As your fingers latch onto the zipper he grips one of your wrists to stop you.

“Go slow.” He releases his hold and braces himself on the wall behind you, watches as you do as he’d asked, sliding the zipper of his jeans down. “Keep going.”

You push the denim down over his hips and relish the oh fuck that falls from his lips when you slide down the wall to your knees and tug it down to his ankles.

“Jake?” Your voice sounds small, meek, and his legs almost buckle when it reaches his ears. “Can I look at you?”

Naked, on your knees at his feet and face to face with his cock straining against the dark blue cotton of his boxer briefs, you repeat his own words back to him.

Closing his eyes tight and reopening them, he silently thanks the universe that he’s not dreaming before telling you yes, of course you can. Whatever you want.

You let your fingertips dance over the shape of him, taking a second to appreciate this as the last moment of modesty before you’re both completely bared to one another. A strangled noise comes from above you when your palm covers him and you squeeze lightly, the sound forces heat through your body and you can’t wait any longer. Without further patience, you’re pulling the cotton down his thighs and letting it fall to circle his ankles, his dick springs free and bobs in the air in front of your face, thick and heavy. You swallow as your mouth actually waters and he catches the sound.

“You good?” He’s kicking his clothes away as your head nods and you swipe your tongue out to moisten your lips. “You like sucking dick, sweetheart?”

Fuck.

Looking up at him from under your eyelashes, you nod again. He thinks to himself that you would’ve been completely wasted on his idiot brother, but pushes the thought away, blocking out the notion that you would’ve been on your knees for Josh if he’d ever given you the chance. All further thoughts are emptied from his head when you slide a hand over his skin, starting next to his navel and slipping over the side of his hip before circling back around to grip his length at the base.

“Jesus, do it, please. Need to feel your mouth.” His give and take of control is intoxicating, one minute he’s pushing or pulling you as he pleases, the next he’s begging you to touch him. He doesn’t even comprehend that you’d do anything he asks at this point.

Experimentally, you lean in and brush your puckered lips over the tip and feel him pulse in your hand. Your tongue slips over your bottom lip to test if you can taste him there and when you realize that you can, just barely, you know you’ll soon become addicted to the flavor. Moving your mouth to him again, you open it over him until the soft head is resting on the flat of your tongue. His hips move forward as if he has no authority over them, but he watches as his dick disappears past your lips when you finally close them around it. Curving your tongue against him, you bob your head once to find that you were right, he’s addicting and you think you could probably exist forever like this, with him softly fucking closer and closer to the back of your throat.

Popping off of him, stroking gently with your hand, you find that he’s closed his eyes and his top teeth are dug into his bottom lip. “Hey…” He cracks one eye open to peer down at you. “Keep doing that.”

“Doing what?” It rasps out of him as if he’s already about to lose it.

“Fucking my mouth, you can do it harder.”

“Christ, you sure?” Please please please be sure.

You lap at the tip before slipping your lips over him again, taking him in until he’s nudging the back of your throat before humming a soft mm hmm. A hand flies to the back of your head, holds you there as he remains still.

He couldn’t have handled her.

That hand curls into a fist full of your hair and he thrusts once, testing it out, pulling nearly all the way out before pushing in deep. You take hold of the backs of his thighs and feel the muscles there flex as he does it again slowly. A low moan ripples up your throat and vibrates around him.

He definitely didn’t deserve her.

Squeezing handfuls of the tight flesh of his thighs, you encourage him to keep going. Instead of thrusting into you again, he uses his hold in your hair to pump you over him, watches as your cheeks hollow and saliva begins to dribble from the corner of your mouth and run down your chin. Whimpers when you swallow around his cock.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” His hips thrust into you with force, sending his cock slamming into the back of your throat. Again. Again. You feel the tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your nails digging into the skin of his legs but he doesn’t stop. You don’t want him to, but when he hears you gag around him he yanks you off of his dick and forces your face upward.

You’re both gasping for breath, tears leaving tracks down your cheeks and drool coating your chin.

“Are you okay? Shit, I’m sorry-“

His concerns are cut short on a groan when you wrap your fingers around him and stroke him slowly, just as you’d done before

Head still held in place, disheveled face turned up to his, you can’t help but grin. “I’m fine, do you wanna cum in my mouth?”

Yeah, fuck Josh. I’m never letting her go.

“Ha, no sweetheart, absolutely not.” A small pout forms on your lips. A fucking pout. “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.” He’s pulling you up to your feet before you can argue, running his thumbs along your face, wiping away the evidence of your depravity before laying his lips over yours. Moving away from the wall, you’re pushing toward your bed but when the backs of his knees hit it he doesn’t sit. The kiss breaks and he lets his eyes move over your body again, like he can’t believe he’s seeing you like this.

“Tell me what you like.”

“What I like? I dunno, normal stuff?” You just asked him to cum in your mouth as if you were asking for the time, but suddenly you’re embarrassed when a laugh huffs from his nose.

“Cool, I’ll save the weird stuff for next time,” he doesn’t let you think too hard about the implications of that before continuing. “I just wanna make you feel good, sweetheart. What’s your favorite thing?”

Your mind blanks, you can’t remember a time you’d had sex with a guy and thought ohh that’s good, that’s my favorite thing. When you don’t say anything, he fills the silence.

“I can’t believe no one’s ever fucked you properly. Morons, all of them. That’s okay, we’ll figure it out together.” Oh. “Has anyone ever made you cum?” You nod your head slowly, cheeks burning from this line of questioning, embarrassment and arousal mixing. “Well thank God for that. How?”

“Jake, I… I don’t know.”

He can see you shutting down but he won’t allow it. “Don’t be embarrassed. I bet you like that pretty cunt licked, don’t you?” The heat turns into flames, you’re positive you’re about to combust and turn to ash at his feet. “Ah, you do. I bet it’s dripping right now, waiting for it.”

Switching places with you, he turns your bodies slowly and pushes you to sit on your bed.

“Lemme see.” As if his voice has control over your muscles, your legs slide over your comforter until they’re spread wide. He whispers, “Lay back,” and when you obey his command he drops to his knees and runs his hands up along the insides of your thighs, draws a fingertip over the soft blush pink line of a stretch mark that he finds there. Captivated by it, he’s momentarily lost his original plot.

“Jake?” The hush of the room calls for more whispering.

“Hm?” He’s still entranced as his fingers trace over your skin.

“What are you doing?” Spread out for him, his face so close to the heat of your cunt, eyes zeroed in on one of your insecurities, self-consciousness is creeping in.

“Admiring you.” His breath is warm and teases across your skin. “You’re absolute perfection.”

“I’m not.”

“Stop doing that.” There’s no animosity in his tone, but your denial causes him to look away from your thigh and up to your face, propped up on your elbows and watching him. “I think you are. Look at you, soft and pretty. Gorgeous pussy making a mess on your sheets.” He’s found the thread he’d lost. “Can I taste you, sweetheart?”

You don’t trust your voice so you don’t reply with words. Bringing a hand down your body, you reach between your legs right in front of his face and slip two fingers up through your folds, spreading your slick arousal over yourself and coating your fingertips in it. His jaw is hanging slack, perfect lips open and waiting. Pushing back up to sit, you’re looking down on him as you slide them over his plump bottom lip and then past it to land on his tongue.

Before he closes his mouth over them, he mumbles around your fingers. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Swirling his tongue over them, you’re sure you see his eyes roll back in his head before they flutter closed and a deep moan rolls over your fingers. You leave them in his mouth until he’s had his fill, sliding his tongue around each one until he’s sucked down every last drop before you slide them out.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need more.” His face is already inching closer. “Might not even fuck you, might just eat your pussy forever.”

Chuckling at his dramatics, your laugh catches in your throat when his tongue reaches your core. As soon as his mouth is on you he’s licking and sucking you in and you think maybe forever like this wouldn’t be so bad. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull him in closer and let a drawn out whine slip into the air over his head. He’s nodding against your cunt, asking for more. When he sucks your clit past his lips, you give it to him.

“Jake, fuuuck yes, just like that baby…”

He rolls it around on his tongue and suckles at it before releasing it and licking a broad stripe over you from bottom to top.

“Say it again, let me hear you.” He licks you again before flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit, your body jolts at the contact.

“It’s so good, please don’t stop.”

He does though. “Call me that. Say it again.” He needs to hear it so he sucks you into his mouth again, hard.

“Fuck, baby! Jake, baby babybaby…” You’re mumbling incoherently as he sucks and laps at you, slides his hands around your thighs and under your ass, gripping you and pulling you into him. You let yourself fall back against the mattress and your feet, still hanging over the side of the bed, find purchase on his thighs. As soon as they land you push your hips up against his lips.

“Ohh, oh fuck.” He lifts your hips in encouragement, grinding you against his mouth again and you feel the pressure that’s been building reach a fever pitch.

Mumbling directly into your skin, he encourages you further. “Keep going, cum in my mouth.” The vibration of his words shoots through you like electricity, you’re bucking your hips wildly against his face.

It hits you violently, your thighs close around his head as your body goes taut and arches off the bed, his name claws its way from your throat. He doesn’t stop, drinking you down and swallowing your release that seems like it’s never going to end.

As it rolls through you and away, your muscles relax slowly and allow you to melt back into the bed, your legs falling away from his face that’s still tucked in between them. He’s kissing you, chaste presses of his lips over your clit. When he finally lifts away from you, he’s crawling up and over your body until his face is above yours.

Though yours are closed, you can feel his eyes on you. You can feel his dick, hard and hot resting low on your stomach. It’s your turn to crack one eye open. What you find is that smile, close-lipped and shy looking, shining and slick with your cum. Your other eye opens and you let them roam his entire face as his smile stretches and his teeth appear.

“That’s my new favorite thing.” You match his grin.

“Mine too.” He leans in and kisses you sweetly until your tongue slips out to taste yourself on his lips. He touches his own to it and the kiss deepens, his hips now resting against yours as he rocks himself softly into your belly. Breaking away to trail his lips over more of your skin, he breathes into the crook of your neck, “How do you want me to fuck you?”

He doesn’t expect an answer since you haven’t been able to give him a straight one so far, but his hips, still rolling gently into you, stutter when you reply.

“Just like this, start slow…”

“Anything, whatever you want. Get comfortable for me, sweetheart.” He’s pushing himself away from you as you shift up the mattress and lay against your pillows, and he stands there next to the bed for a minute, smiling down at you.

“What?”

“This may come as a shock, but you look so pretty right now.” When you wave a hand to brush it off, he continues, “You do. All flushed pink and fucked out and I haven’t even been inside you yet.”

“Well get over here and fix that, Jacob.”

He doesn’t move closer, not yet, but he’s wrapped a hand around his length and started stroking it slowly as you watch. “Jacob huh? I like it when you call me the other thing.”

“Baby?” He grips himself tighter and hums a confirmation. “Is that what you want, wanna be my baby?”

He knows you have no idea what you’re doing to him right now, knows he has a long way to go before he’s anything resembling yours, but the fantasy of it has him throbbing against his palm and leaking at the tip.

“Yeah…” He doesn’t know what else to say that wouldn’t give him away completely, but he’s kneeling onto the bed and crawling over you, slotting himself between your legs as he lets his mind run with it. I’m already hers and she doesn’t even know it.

You let your hands reach for him, run over all of the tanned bare skin you can grasp, watch as goosebumps raise over it under your touch. When his hips move closer to yours he raises his eyebrows in question. “You ready?”

Your head nods but he doesn’t make a move. “C’mon baby…”

He’s shaking his head in disbelief as he rubs the head over your folds, wet and still slippery with the mixture of you both. Leaning down to capture your lips, he slips past your entrance and slides in deep in one soft thrust and you moan into each other's mouths. He stays like that, unmoving inside you and you think he’s letting you adjust to the size of him but he’s almost completely overwhelmed by the feeling of you. Pulling his lips away to rest his forehead against yours, his hair falls around both of your faces and he’s sucking ragged breaths into his lungs. You run your fingers over the soft skin of his back, his muscles there tense and release as he relaxes into the caress.

Finally, he rolls his hips, withdrawing from you just barely before pushing in deep, pressed firmly against you.

“Ah, sorry, I… I got lost for a minute.”

It’s kind of charming, the way he’s consumed by you. You almost say something to that effect but he’s gathered his composure and begins rocking into you with a soft rhythm that causes you to hum in approval.

“Mm, just like that.” You wrap your legs around his back and tilt your face up, lips searching for some gentle affection to pair with the intimacy of the moment. He offers it contentedly, kissing you back as a hand pets over your hair and settles there, the strands wrapping around his fingers.

“You feel so fucking good,” he’s tucked his face into your neck again, murmuring in between pecks of his lips over your skin, “So perfect.” For me. You’re perfect for me.

Your own kisses are trailing across his shoulder before you nip at it with your teeth, drawing another strangled sound from him as you lap over the spot with your tongue. Bringing your lips closer to his ear, you whisper a string of praise and let whimpers escape into it as his strokes deepen, still slow but just a little harder. It doesn’t seem intentional, just his body chasing its need for more of you. He wants to give you exactly what you’ve asked for though, so he maintains the slow pace as your bodies slip against each other, a layer of sweat forming between you. When your hands move to grip his arms and your heels dig into his backside to pull your hips up to meet his, he delivers a deliberately hard stroke.

“You want more, sweetheart?”

“Yes, fuck me baby, please…” He’s already fulfilled his promise as your thoughts have been nothing but Jake Jake Jake, but it hasn’t been in the way you’d expected. Yet.

All he heard was fuck me baby and self-control left him. Raising himself up on one hand, he runs his other down the center of your chest before wrapping it around one of your tits and squeezing roughly, the first time he’s even touched you there. Eyes locked onto the tips of his fingers sinking into the flesh, he pulls back before slamming his hips into the backs of your thighs. The yelp that rips past your lips only spurs him on and he does it again before pumping into you and settling into a quick rhythm. Hand still gripping your breast he drops his face to it, licks a wet stripe around the curve of it before wrapping his lips and tongue around your nipple and sucking hard.

You pull in a hissing breath through your teeth and he releases your nipple with a pop.

“No, no keep going, keep going!” He hasn’t stopped or even slowed his hips but with that he brings the pace up to something bruising, bordering painful. Switching to your other breast he swipes his tongue over it, a flick of it over the hardened peak, then sinks his teeth around a mouthful.

“FUCK!” You’re sure he’s almost broken the skin but you couldn’t care less, he’s licking and sucking at your tit as if he needs it to survive and the wet slapping sound of his body pummeling yours has any care about anything else wiped from your brain. Releasing his grip on your chest he moves that hand up and into your hair again and yanks it by the roots, pulling your head to the side and exposing the length of your neck. He watches your throat move with the breaths you’re swallowing and trying to control.

“Is this what you needed, hm? Needed to be fucked stupid by a man that can handle you?” He licks and bites at your neck before you can formulate words.

“Y-yes, yes, yes.” It’s punched out of you with each thrust.

“Yes what?” His hand wraps around your jaw to force your face back to him, his is shining with sweat, a drop rolling down his forehead and traveling to the tip of his nose. Your eyes are wide and his are boring into them, begging you to say it.

“Yesssss baby, yes!”

“Yeah I know exactly what your perfect cunt needs, what it deserves. Want you cum for me, can you do that sweetheart?”

You’re already close, you’re sure if the air breezed over your clit right now you’d explode. All you can do is nod your head frantically.

Shifting his weight, you drop your legs from around him as he settles back over his heels and pops his thumb into his mouth. Bracing himself with a palm on your stomach he’s distracted momentarily when he presses in and can feel himself fucking into you.

“Fuck, you feel that?” You reply with more nodding and affirmative words babbling from your lips. He brings his thumb to your clit with barely-there pressure and swirls it twice.

“Jake! Jake I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-“ One more circle to your sensitive flesh has you coming undone. This time when your orgasm seizes your muscles, you’re wrapped around him and squeezing as you scream his name. He’s dreamed about this, dreamed about how you would look like this, sound like this.

This is better.

He fucks you through it, holds on until your back sinks to the bed and he’s desperate for it.

“I’m there sweetheart, I’m gonna cum.” He offers a warning because as bad as he wants to fill you up, mark you as his, you hadn’t talked about it. He has no idea what the risk is and he can’t do it.

Before he can pull out of you, you’re sitting up and pushing forward, just enough so that when he withdraws and wraps his fist around his dick you can knock it away and replace it with your own. It happens so fast that he’s frozen there, just a stunned observer as you suck him past your lips and pump his release onto your tongue.

“Hooooly fuck, Jesus Christ.” This time, when he tugs you off of him by your hair, he’s pulling you back down to the bed by it and falling over you. This time, when his tongue pushes into your mouth and swirls against yours, he can taste himself there.

This time, when he thinks that his brother wouldn’t begin to know what to do with you, he accidentally says it out loud.

Taglist:

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[saintsenara]

the war of the roses - a snippet

sirius black/severus snape explicit

here's a wee look at the next chapter of the war of the roses - and its musing on relief, reality, and luck.

and blood, obviously. that seems to be a theme...

He wants to run around - to race up and down the stairs in a constant loop, to do anything other than sit still and feel mingled fear and relief pumping round his body, like it’s formed in his bone marrow and leaked out into his blood.

Harry is safe, rattles his left ventricle.

A dozen Death Eaters were waiting to slaughter him, is the rejoinder from the right.

Harry is safe -

For now.

Harry is safe -

Until next time.

Harry is safe.

Dumbledore is bringing him to Grimmauld Place and Harry is safe.

It doesn’t occur to him to remember that Snape was also there - the crags and peaks of his face made all the starker by the opalescent sheen of Dumbledore’s Patronus - when the message came until Snape is already gone, has already slunk back into the shadows of the outside world.

Fucking cunt, Sirius thinks to himself. He’s probably furious that Harry isn’t dead.

Easier that - the old dance, the old hatred. Easier to think about Snape chuckling malevolently over Harry’s corpse - the way he probably did for James, he’d fucking hated James - than to interrogate the sudden longing, prickling unwelcomely over the gooseflesh of his skin, sticky and grimy with humidity and panic, to grab Snape by his skinny (skinny but surprisingly strong, as he’d discovered when they were rolling around tearing at each other) upper arms and use him as an anchor. He could ground himself, he thinks, with the scrub of cheap wool under the palms of his hands, with the painful familiarity of that horrible nose. He could reassure himself that this was all real by the heat emanating from Snape’s body.

He touches his finger to his lip, wincing as he finds it split and swollen. Blood clings to the whorls of his fingertip when he draws it away.

Snape gave him this injury. Snape jabbed at him with sharp knuckles forged in a Muggle slum and made him bleed, and then Snape scarpered the second he heard Harry was okay.

Cunt.

Which means it’s real.

When he was eighteen - strutting around, all cocksure and floppy-haired, in the body of a boy who no longer exists - he’d never have understood that the relief of knowing - of totally and incontrovertibly knowing - that someone isn’t dead - that, for once, one of the Order’s rag-tag missions, held together by nothing more than piss and vinegar, hasn’t ended with someone being lowered into the ground, hollow and tiny in their linen shroud - would be so exhausting. He would have expected to want to celebrate - to open champagne and scream fuck you at the top of his lungs, on the off-chance that it could penetrate the solidity of Number Twelve and race along the wind until Lord Voldemort could hear it - not to collapse, to fall in upon himself like a dying star and want nothing more than to curl up and sob.

He would never have imagined that the roar of the Floo - depositing Dumbledore, grave and jewel-toned and immaculate, and Harry, covered in ash and sand, shell-shocked and fucking fifteen, in the kitchen - would make him long, for one intangible second, to be a child again, and to not know what was coming, and the emerald whoosh! to be his mother getting home to bollock him about something or other, while Reg stood behind her smirking and mouthing you’re a prick, and James lurked out of sight in the mirror in his breast pocket, and he could feel him giggling vibrating against his heart.