#so yeah if you feel inspired please do write the rest of it i would eat that shit up
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how has no one written the fic where oscar finds out lando not only held checo up cooled his tyres which helped oscar's race out BUT ALSO climbed eleven whole places AND oscar's deliciously adrenaline high off his win, so when he finally gets back to the hotel and sees his beautiful, gorgeous, perfect boyfriend waiting for him, all he wants to show lando is how proud and grateful he is.......
"Oh hello," Lando's voice washes over Oscar the second the hotel door shuts behind him. "Welcome back, two-time race winner."
He's sitting on the edge of the bed, their bed, bundled up in one of Oscar's hoodies that hangs off his frame just slightly. Phone tossed to the side, Lando beams across the room at him through damp curls, and Oscar feels his heart stutter.
God, he's beautiful. Oscar watches as his boyfriend moves to his feet, to him. Lando stops infront of Oscar, eyes impossibly bright through his lashes.
Oscar inhales sharply, and all he breathes is the familiar notes of Lando.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Lando frowns, "Tell you what?"
"That you-" Oscar splutters, because how is he supposed to be normal about this? "That you covered Checo off with the undercut. That you protected your own race even when doing so. That you drove so well."
"Oh."
Lando blinks, clearly not expecting all of that. He stares up at Oscar, two figures in the hallway, the lingering scent of champagne slowly intertwining with bergamot shampoo.
"It's not that big of a deal." Lando shrugs, before whispering with the smile he's only ever had for Oscar. "Osc, you won."
At his words, Oscar stares at his boyfriend like he's grown a second head. "I couldn't have done it without you."
"Yes, you could." Lando's face scrunches in protest. "I saw your overtake on Charles, and your defence after was spectacular. He never would've gotten through. You would've won even without me."
It makes Oscar want to scream. Because his incredibly talented boyfriend, who out-performed what everyone thought was possible, would use every breath in his body to defend Oscar's skill, only to not save anything for himself. The thought of it pains Oscar so terribly.
Oscar pushes back. "I might not have. Charles fought strongly, and Checo would have been a lot closer if you hadn't held him off."
"Still," Lando says stubbornly, refuses to budge. "You would've won anyway."
"Not without you."
"Even without me."
"Nope."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes- Why are you fighting me on this?" Lando snaps, crossing one hoodie-clad arm over the other. It shouldn't be as endearing as it is. Oscar shouldn't be finding it this hot.
The glare he's giving Oscar makes him want to kiss him senseless, amongst other things. Oscar looks into Lando's sea glass eyes, and all he does is want.
"Because," Oscar says plainly, stepping into his boyfriend's space. Lando's sharp intake of air goes straight to his core. "I need you to know how I could not have done this without you. I need you to know how your race was absolutely bloody brilliant, it was fucking hot. I need you to know how much I care about this, about you."
Oscar's hands fall to the sides of Lando's waist, and all it takes is a singular, fluid motion for their bodies to be pressed together. Lando lets out a squeak of surprise, the tips of his ears turning pink.
"And it really fucking kills me that you don't think the same about yourself, you know that?" Oscar continues, despite their lips being inches apart. "Eleven fucking places, Lando. And nevermind that, you won't even let me tell you how proud I am or otherwise."
Lando's flushed brilliantly, and Oscar smiles slowly at the sight. Then he leans in, and Lando lets his eyes flutter shut, waits for his boyfriend's next move.
Only, Oscar's not quite done.
"So I guess I have no choice but to show you." Oscar murmurs next to his ear, it takes him by surprise. Lando jumps, eyes flying open. Oscar's breath is hot, starved, it sends shivers down his spine. "I don't think I've thanked you properly yet."
His thigh presses between Lando's legs. The sudden unexpected pressure has Lando reeling. At his boyfriend's whine, Oscar pulls back. Lando's eyes are blown wide, and they meet Oscar's, dark and wanting.
"Please," Lando nods desperately. He whispers, begging. "Please."
With a smirk, Oscar sinks to his knees.
#listen. it's 4am and all i wanted was to read something like this at 2am.#except no one's written ANYTHING so my brain started spitballing#so yeah if you feel inspired please do write the rest of it i would eat that shit up#landoscar#azerbaijan gp 2024#lando norris x oscar piastri
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Teach You
Daryl Dixon x Reader
warnings: smutttttt
notes: daryl has 0 game, 0 experience, and is eager to please. I thought about this as I was falling asleep last night and couldn't wait to write it for you. Inspired by Norman saying if Daryl ever got down and dirty there would be premature ejaculation
She/her pronouns, foreplay only, gets straight to it
The invitation had been innocent enough, though Daryl had found a way to make it a minefield in his head. Dinner at her house. Nothing fancy, she’d said. Just them, some canned spaghetti, and maybe a drink.
He’d almost said no, but the way she’d looked at him—smiling soft and easy, like she wanted him there more than anyone else—made him mutter, “Yeah, alright.”
Now, he’s sitting on her couch, shoulders stiff, his crossbow propped awkwardly by the door. She hums in the kitchen, clinking dishes together. He wonders if it’s too late to leave.
“Don’t sit too quiet in there,” she calls, teasing. “You’ll scare the furniture.”
Daryl huffs a laugh through his nose. “Furniture don’t need me to make it nervous.”
She steps into the room, carrying two mismatched bowls. “You kidding? You’re terrifying. Real menace, Dixon.” She hands him a bowl, sitting close enough for her thigh to press against his.
Daryl shifts, his grip tightening on the bowl. “S’not what people usually say.”
She gives him a sidelong glance, lips quirking. “What do they say?”
He doesn’t answer, staring into the spaghetti like it’s gonna save him. She leans in, the bare skin of her arm brushing his, and he forgets how to breathe.
“You’re not used to this, huh?” Her tone is light, but her eyes are searching.
He shrugs. “Dunno what ‘this’ is.”
“Someone flirting with you,” she says, blunt as ever, setting her bowl aside. “How’s that feel, by the way?”
He almost chokes. “Ain’t what you’re doin’.”
“It’s exactly what I’m doing.”
His ears burn, and he fights the urge to stand up and bolt. “Y/N—”
She cuts him off, leaning closer, her voice dropping to something softer. “If I haven't made it abundantly clear lately: I like you. A lot.”
The words hit him harder than any walker ever could. He swallows, glancing at her, then quickly away. “Ain’t right.”
“Why not?”
“I’m… too old.” He shifts again, looking anywhere but her face. “You could do better.”
Her laugh is quiet, almost disbelieving. “You really think that?”
He nods, his jaw tightening. “Don’t got think ‘bout it. It’s true.”
She tilts her head, watching him for a long moment. Then, setting her hand lightly on his knee, she asks, “When’s the last time someone told you you’re wrong?”
He tenses under her touch but doesn’t pull away. “Not wrong—”
“Daryl,” she interrupts gently. “You’ve got this whole big, twisted idea in your head about what you deserve. And it’s bullshit.”
He stiffens. “Ain’t—”
“Bullshit,” she says again, firmer this time. “And I’m gonna prove it.”
She stands, setting her bowl aside, then his, and turns to face him. Her hands are on her hips, her gaze steady as she looks down at him. “Can I ask you something personal?”
He frowns but nods hesitantly.
“Have you ever… been with someone?”
His face flushes crimson, and he drops his gaze to the floor.
“That’s a no, then.” Her voice is warm, not teasing, but it makes him flinch anyway.
“Don’t mean nothin’,” he mumbles, fidgeting where he sits.
“It means everything,” she counters, stepping closer. “Because if no one’s shown you what it feels like to be wanted, how’re you supposed to know?”
His heart hammers against his ribs as she moves between his knees, crouching down and resting her hands lightly on his shins. He stares at her like a deer caught in headlights. “What’re you doin’?”
She smiles, tilting her head. “Only what you want me to. But you have to tell me if you do.”
He swallows hard, his hands gripping the edge of the couch. “I...I dunno.”
“It’s okay to want, Daryl,” she murmurs, moving her legs up and onto his lap with a slow, deliberate movement so she's straddling him, her hands now resting delicately on his shoulders.
His breath catches, and he freezes, his hands hovering uselessly in the air, "Okay," he breathes.
Her voice drops lower, softer. “You don’t even know where to put your hands, do you?”
“I— I can’t—”
She gently lifts his wrists, guiding his hands to the curve of her hips. “Start here.”
He stares at her, wide-eyed, his fingers twitching against her waist. “You sure ‘bout this?”
“I’ve never been more sure.” She says, her hand coming up to cup his jaw, the touch sending electricity into his skin, “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing. Only if you want me to.”
His grip tightens slightly, a shuddering breath escaping him. “Yeah. I want it. I want you.”
Daryl barely has time to process anything before she tilts his chin up, forcing his gaze to meet hers. Her hands are steady, her expression soft but laced with something deeper-desire, maybe? His throat goes dry.
"First things first," she murmurs, brushing her thumb along the line of his jaw. "You ever kissed anyone before?"
He shakes his head, his breathing becoming irregular.
Her smile softens as it spreads across her face, endearing and non judgmental. She leans in, her breath warm against his lips. "Then let me teach you."
Her mouth brushes his softly, testing, like she's giving him the chance to pull away. He doesn't. Instead, his hands tighten on her hips as she deepens the kiss, her lips moving against his in a way that makes his head spin.
"Relax," she whispers against his mouth, pulling back just enough to guide him. He exhales shakily, his shoulders dropping slightly. When she kisses him again, he leans into it this time, his lips parting hesitantly.
She hums in approval, her hands threading into his hair, tugging gently to encourage him. He nearly lets out an inhuman noise at the feeling of her fingers curling in his hair, but he swallows it down, instead focusing on her soft lips on his.
"That's it," she breathes, her voice low and sultry. "Just follow me."
Her tongue traces the seam of his lips, and he jerks slightly, his breath hitching. She pulls back, laughing softly. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he rasps, his face burning. "Just... wasn't expectin' that."
"Well, get used to it," she teases, leaning in again. This time, when her tongue slides tentatively into his mouth, he meets her halfway, mimicking her movements as best as he can. It's clumsy, but she doesn't seem to mind, her soft moans sending heat straight through him. It suddenly occurs to him that she might be enjoying this just as much as hime.
As the kiss deepens, her hips begin to move, rolling slowly against his lap. Daryl tenses, his fingers twitching against her sides as she grinds against him, finally drawing a low, shaky groan from his throat.
Her lips brushing against his stubble and eventually against the shell of his ear where she whispers, "You like that?"
"Yeah. Feels-feels good." he nods, swallowing hard.
She smiles, pressing a kiss to his jaw before pulling back just enough to grab the hem of her shirt. Slowly, she lifts it over her head, tossing it aside to reveal bare skin and soft curves that leave him staring, wide-eyed and trozen.
"You're beautiful," he mutters before he can stop himself, the words tumbling out unfiltered.
Her smile softens, and she cups his face in her hands, searching his eyes. "Could say the same about you. Touch me, Daryl."
His hands flex nervously on her hips, now pressing into bare skin that feels hot to the touch. "Don't wanna mess it up."
"You won't." She reaches for his hands again, guiding them upward until his calloused fingers brush the swell of her breasts. He sucks in a sharp breath, his touch featherlight and hesitant.
"Is this okay?" he asks, his voice rough with uncertainty.
"It's perfect," she murmurs, arching into his touch. "Here, let me show you."
She places her hands over his, guiding his fingers to knead and explore, her soft sighs of pleasure encouraging him. He grows bolder with each movement, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, drawing a gasp from her lips.
"Like that," she breathes, her hips grinding down harder against him. "You're doing so good, Daryl."
Her praise sends a jolt of heat through him, and he pulls her closer, burying his face against her neck as his confidence grows.
"Never done nothin' like this before," he admits, his voice muffled, his lips tracing the column of her neck and moving down to her shoulders, onto her clavicle and chest.
"You're a fast learner," she says breathlessly, tugging his hair gently to make him look at her. Her lips find his again, hungrier this time, and he responds with a desperation that surprises even him.
His hands continue their kneading of her breasts, traveling around her to hug her tight against him, the swell of them pressing into his clothed chest, his hips beginning to move instinctively beneath her. The thought occurs to him that he hates clothes.
She gasps against his mouth, breaking the kiss to press her forehead to his.
"You're incredible," she whispers, her voice breathy. "I've wanted this for so long."
Daryl swallows hard, his chest heaving.
"Don't know what you see in me, but... I don't wanna stop."
"Then don't," she murmurs, kissing him again. "I'll take care of you. Just let me."
With newfound confidence—or maybe just desperation—Daryl leans forward, pressing his lips against the soft skin of her chest. He works his way down, his kisses slow and clumsy, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her breath hitches when his mouth brushes between the swells of her breasts, and when he kisses the top, then the underside, he swears she arches into him on purpose, trying to drive him out of his damn mind.
Then, tentatively, he takes her nipple into his mouth. The sound she makes—low and ragged—has his cock straining so hard against his jeans he thinks he might lose it right there. Her hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging lightly as his tongue flicks out, testing, tasting her. She gasps, and that sound drives a hunger in him he’s never felt before.
His hips shift beneath her as she continues grinding against him, her movements deliberate and unrelenting. The friction is almost too much, the ache in his lap unbearable. He grips her hips hard, trying to slow her down. “You’re gonna drive me crazy,” he mutters, his voice rough, lips brushing against her neck.
She exhales a shaky laugh, a smile teasing her lips. “That’s kinda the point.”
Before he can respond, she leans back slightly, her hands moving to the waistband of her jeans. “Here,” she says, popping the button open with practiced ease. His breath catches as she begins to slide the zipper down, revealing the curve of her hip.
His mind races. He’s never had a woman like this before—so wanting for him, so sure of herself. His chest tightens at the thought of messing this up, of not being enough for her. But at the same time, his heart pounds with anticipation. God, he’s thought about her like this more times than he can admit. What her skin would feel like. What her lips would taste like. And now, it’s happening, and he feels so far out of his depth he doesn’t know where to begin.
She must notice his wide eyed stare, because her other hand tilts his chin up then, catching his gaze, "Only if you want to," she says again.
His throat is suddenly very dry, and all he can do is nod.
She smiles, and his chest tightens. She guides his hand beneath the waistband of her jeans, the soft skin of her pubic bone brushing his fingers first. The light tuft of hair there is the only thing rougher than her skin, and when his fingers graze lower, they slide easily over the slick heat of her center.
A growl rumbles in his chest, unbidden, as he realizes how wet she is. For him. His head spins, his blood roaring in his ears. When his fingers dip lower, pressing into her, her walls clench around them greedily. She moans—loud, uninhibited—and the sound nearly undoes him.
"Yes, Daryl, that's it," she breathes. "Curl them, baby."
He does as she says, his fingers pressing into her, finding that soft, spongy spot that makes her cry out and buck against him. His palm brushes against the swollen nub at the apex of her sex, and the way she moves against him, grinding against his hand, has him gripping her hip with his free hand to ground himself.
“Goddamn,” he mutters, his voice raw as he watches her, awestruck.
She’s beautiful—blissed out and needy, her body moving with his like they’ve done this a hundred times before. He can’t take it anymore. His free hand comes up, fingers curling lightly around the back of her neck as he pulls her down to kiss him. The kiss is desperate, hungry, and the little sounds she makes against his lips make his body tighten unbearably.
“Don’t stop,” she gasps against his mouth, her voice trembling. “I’m so close.”
Her words send a jolt through him, and he groans low in his throat, the tension in his core mounting to an unbearable peak as he groans against her lips, gasping for breath as his high flushes through him. Before he can stop it, his release hits him hard and stars break against his vision. Her whimpers rise to full on ragged moans as she presses into his hand then one last time, his fingers knuckle deep inside her as they press against her spongey walls as she tightens around them, sucking his digits further into her as the climax breaks over her.
His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, her kisses trailing down his jaw and neck as her hips slow, her ragged breaths giving way to soft, contented sighs.
When she pulls back, her cheeks flushed and her eyes hooded with lust, she looks down at him and smiles. “Did you just…?” she asks, her gaze dropping to his lap.
His face burns as he remembers himself, the wetness in his pants prominent as they both look down. Slowly, he pulls his hand from her, the loss of contact making her frown slightly. He bows his head, shame tightening his chest as he presses his hands into his lap.
“That is so hot,” she murmurs, her voice rich and warm, not even a hint of laughter behind it.
Daryl’s head jerks up, his breath catching in his throat. “Hot?” he rasps, his voice cracking slightly.
She nods, her smile soft and utterly disarming as her fingers trail along his jaw. “Yeah. You’re so worked up just from me, Daryl. That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her words make his head spin. She’s serious—dead serious—and it hits him like a freight train. She isn’t mocking him, isn’t annoyed or disappointed. She likes him. Wants him. And not just in some passing way.
“You really mean that?” he mumbles, his hands twitching where they return to rest awkwardly against her hips.
Her brow furrows slightly, her expression turning tender. “Of course I mean it. You have no idea how crazy you drive me, do you?”
He stares at her, stunned silent, his heart hammering in his chest. He doesn’t understand it—can’t wrap his head around why someone like her would want someone like him—but the look in her eyes leaves no room for doubt.
Her lips brush against his, slow and teasing. “Wanna go again?” she whispers, her voice like honey. “I’ve got a few more things I can teach you.”
His heart stutters, and he swears the heat in her gaze alone could undo him all over again. She’s not just enjoying herself—she’s reveling in it, like she’s been waiting for this moment as long as he has.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and hoarse. He swallows hard, his body stirring again despite the lingering haze of his release. “Yeah, okay.”
Her smile widens, and it��s nothing short of radiant. She leans in, her mouth covering his in a kiss that feels deeper this time, more confident. He lets himself relax, his hands finding her waist, and for the first time, he lets himself believe this is real—that she’s here, wanting him, and not judging him for a second.
Her hips roll against him again, slow and deliberate, and his fingers tighten instinctively on her waist. When she breaks the kiss, her lips curve into a smirk, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. “Good. ‘Cause we’re just getting started.”
Part II
#gooood morning!#the walking dead#daryl dixon#twd daryl#daryl#the walking dead daryl#daryl x reader#daryl twd#Daryl Dixon smut#smutty
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If I Was Your Boyfriend
"If he was your boyfriend, he would give you the actual world. Sadly he is just your best friend with the biggest unrequited crush ever."
Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader
Genre: Unrequited Crush!AU, Idiots in Love!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff, Romance
Warnings: OC is scared of a bug (me fr), he kills it for her, he would do anything for her, yearning, unrequited feelings (? mhhm ?), listen. he may be a lil bit dense when it comes to reading signs jsjjss bless his heart, i need him as my boyfriend, so much tension between them, jsjsjs this is pure torture i want them to kiss!!, brief mention of adult toys, miscommunication because he suuucks at love confessions, protective & slightly jealous!Kook, he is the greenest flag though like seriously, the happiest end hihi, the inspo was seven mv kook, she is shorter than him because i have the hugest size kink with him and this is so self-indulgent <3, once again i need him as my boyfie
Wordcount: 10.5k
a/n: sometimes i have ideas for one specific trope without wanting to write the whole book lmaooo, so enjoy this lil slow burn fluff scenario which is so self-indulgent and fanfiction coded. also, it was inspired by a real life event where i found a bug in my bed and i had to kill it on my own :( i was being very brave about it 😔 ps: this is very unrealistic 'cause like why would you only be best friends with HIM? that wouldn't be an unrequited crush if that was me. happy birthday to kookie 💛
The call comes around two at night. Jungkook picks up with the first ring. He was working out before that.
“Hello? Are you okay?” he asks, resting his head against the edge of the sofa as he is currently sitting on the floor. He was doing sit ups before that, trying his hardest to regulate his sped-up breathing right now.
“Kook, please help me.”
Jungkook sits up straight.
“Where are you? Are you safe?”
“I don’t know. I think it’s following me. I locked it inside my room but I can still hear it.”
“Stay with me, I’m getting dressed”, he says, jumping to his feet to hurry to his front door.
“Please hurry please. I’m so scared.”
“I’m coming, don’t worry. Are you home?”
“Yes. Hurry please.”
“I’m coming, stay strong. Yeah?”
“Yes, thank you”, you say and end the call.
Jungkook curses, shoving the phone into his pants pocket. He puts on his jacket as he runs down the hallway and puts on his beanie once he is inside the elevator. He is restless in the small space, wishing for it to go quicker. It’s too slow.
“Come on, come on”, he stresses it, knowing that it is fruitless.
You are his best friend. Well, at least that is what you would call him. Best friend. Jungkook sees so much more in you. His best friend, his person of trust, his crush. He would never tell you his feelings because he doesn’t want to make it awkward. But if there were no consequences for speaking up, Jungkook would tell you that you are his dream girl. You are funny, sweet, caring, talented, intelligent, wonderful, perfect, amazing, beautiful, pretty, stunning. Yes, Jungkook thinks that you are all of these things and more. When he is close to you, his heart races and he wants to keep looking at your face. When you are sad, he wants to make you happy again and when you smile, he wants to keep it on your face. When you aren’t with him, he misses you and when you are with him, he hopes that time stops passing. You are the person he updates on the most mundane of things and whose text messages always bring a quick flutter to his chest. Your voice is the voice he could listen to for hours and your face is the face he doesn’t get tired of staring at when you and he video chat late night till you and he both run out of things to say. And at the same time, you are the person with whom Jungkook never runs out of things to talk about, if he didn’t have to breathe, he would continue to babble to you until your ears wore off. Jungkook swears that if there were no consequences for his words, he would tell you all of this.
But alas, there are consequences and so Jungkook is left keeping his true feelings hidden.
The outcome of tonight’s phone call obviously wouldn’t have changed whether or not he had romantic feelings for you. Jungkook loves you as a friend as well. And he will always be there for his friends. Especially when they are clearly scared by something.
Jungkook rings your bell. You open the door as if you were waiting for him, grabbing him by his wrists to drag him inside. Jungkook’s entire body flutters at the feeling of your touch.
“Finally you are here. Come in quick, please”, you tell him.
You must have been sleeping already. You are in your pyjamas and have no make-up on. Jungkook swears that you have never looked more beautiful before.
“What happened? Did someone break in?” he asks instead of telling you that you are beautiful.
“Worse.”
“Worse?”
“Kook, there is a huge bug in my room. Please kill it.”
Jungkook stops in his tracks. You call him over for that? You stop when you feel his strength all of a sudden, looking over your shoulder. He has his right brow cocked up.
“What?” you stress.
“You give me a heart attack for that?”
“What? Of course. It’s a bug.”
Jungkook sighs in annoyance, “seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.” You round him to shove him by his back. “Kill it for me, please Kook.”
“Fine, I’ll kill it”, he gives up and groans, letting you shove him to your bedroom. Jungkook would never dare to think this way, but right now he wished that you were shoving him to your room for something else. Nothing dirty of course, just cuddles. Lots of cuddles. He would literally trade both his kidneys so he could hold you in his arms until you fall asleep just once. He would make sure that you were warm and that you felt safe in his embrace. He would kiss your face and tell you sweet nothings like how he thinks of you when he listens to love songs and how he wishes that it was you and he whenever he sees a romantic scene in a movie.
God, Jungkook is so done for.
“Where is this stupid bug?” he acts annoyed to make the yearning a little easier. It is difficult when you have your hands on his back and they are so, so warm.
“In there.” You open the door carefully and look around. “Follow me”, you say, tiptoeing into your room.
Jungkook follows you, smiling fondly. You are cute when you are acting like this.
“Where is it?” he asks, trying his hardest not to think about how he wants to snuggle you for being cute.
“I don’t know. It was right there when I last saw it.”
“Maybe it’s already gone.”
“No, it was-”
The bug flies past you, you scream instantly, jumping at Jungkook for help.
“The bug! Eeeek Kooook! I hate bugs!” you squeak, hiding away in his chest.
Jungkook hopes that you can’t feel his racing pulse, because it is racing. You never touched him like this before, let alone snuggled so close to him.
Act cool. Act cool. Act cool.
He wraps one arm around you, patting the back of your head.
“There, there you big baby”, he teases.
“I hate bugs so much”, you whine, snuggling closer.
He glances down at you, feeling every beat his heart takes.
Act cool! Act cool! Act cool!
What if he wrapped both arms around you? Would that go too far? He wouldn’t mean anything dirty behind it, he just really wants to hug you and feel you melt in his arms.
“Kill it, Kook please”, you whine and move your head so you were looking up at him. Your eyes lock.
Jungkook bites down on his tongue, forgetting to breathe for just a few moments.
ACT COOL! ACT COOL! ACT COOL!
What if he cupped your face right here and now to kiss your nose and cheeks and forehead and chin and lips and eyes? What if he did that?
“Please kill it.”
“I am, you gotta let go for that”, he gets out, surprised at how normal his voice sounds eventhough he is currently losing his mind.
Please don’t let go. Please don’t let go.
You let go. Disappointment from his side. You hide behind him and grab his waist for moral support. Butterflies in his tummy, his knees buckle a little. Holy moly. Holy moly. Wow. Oh wow oh wow oh wow.
“You’re seriously so brave for this”, you tell him.
“Yeah, yeah or maybe you’re just a scaredy cat.”
He has no idea how he is able to talk properly right now when you have him literally messed up.
Jungkook inches close to where the bug is sitting on the wall while his thoughts and heart are racing. He has to act nonchalant about the situation. You are only holding him like this because you are scared.
“Do you have a shoe?” he asks you, hating his hand for shaking when he presents it to you.
You bend down and take off your right slipper, “will this do?”
“Perfect.”
Jungkook takes the slipper and carefully moves closer to the bug. Your fingers tighten on his waist.
“Careful now”, you comment.
“I am” he gets out, concentrating vigorously. He can’t mess up now, you are counting on him.
“Almost there. Almost there”, you cheer him on.
Jungkook slams the shoe down. The bug has no chance of escape. You scream.
“Gotcha.”
“Did you get it? Is it dead? Kook, is it dead?”
Jungkook lifts the slipper and looks at the squished bug on its sole. He shows it to you.
“Dead.”
“Yay, it’s dead. Ew how nasty, you can see the intestines.”
“Right. Give me a minute, I’m cleaning it.”
“Use acid for it. Just to be sure it doesn’t come back.
He chuckles, “sure, I’ll use acid.”
He leaves you in your bedroom to hurry to the bathroom.
Your apartment is familiar to him. He spends a lot of time here. Mostly to chill on your couch and watch shows with you. Sometimes you also cook dinner together and then eat it by the table, while other times you do a workout together. Seriously, you are his fucking dream girl.
One time as you and he were cooking together, he needed something from the shelf above you, but you couldn’t step away from the stove. So he got it while you were right in front of him and his chest brushed against your back and he swears that he heard your breath hitch for a moment. Jungkook wanted to hug you back then. When you later that evening turned to let him taste the cooking only to use the same fork to taste it yourself, Jungkook almost kissed you.
One time when you were watching a show, you got cold hands and Jungkook offered to warm them for you. He didn’t think you would accept, but you did and so he ended up with your cold hands under his hoodie as you warmed them up on his skin. Jungkook swears that he wanted to pin you against the sofa and kiss your cute face back then.
One time when you were doing a workout together, you struggled with a movement and asked him for help. He ended up having to hold you by your hips as he guided you through the movement. He wanted to flip you and kiss you senseless back then.
He never felt like this before. He was scared of these feelings at first, but now he can’t get enough. You are a foodie, a romance lover and a lover for couple workouts and it’s so impossible for him not to be in love. You are seriously his dream girl. There is no fucking way around this.
Jungkook knows that tonight will be such a memory as well. the kind of memory which tingles, but which also makes him regret that he didn’t act differently. When you cuddled into him, he wanted to hug you properly. When you grabbed his waist he wanted to turn in your grasp and kiss you against the door. But he knows that he can’t. He would ruin what you are having and he could never get over this heartbreak.
Jungkook looks at your toothbrush as he cleans the shoe. Sometimes he thinks about how it would feel to be represented in your bathroom as the second toothbrush right next to yours.
Jungkook bites down on his tongue, burning holes into the empty space next to your toothbrush. He would put so much effort into taking care of himself so you could always look at the best version of him. He would do skincare nights with you. He would try out hair masks with you and rub body lotion on the spots you can’t reach. He would brush his teeth, floss them and use mouthwash religiously just so his kisses would always taste good. He would do all of this if it meant you had an attractive boyfriend.
Jungkook looks away. He is doing it again, he is getting delusional. He shouldn’t do that. It isn’t his right.
He turns off the water and leaves the bathroom so he could return the slipper to you.
You are in the kitchen, looking at him instantly.
“Is it gone?” you ask him.
“Yup, it’s gone. Your slipper.”
“Thank you seriously. You just saved my life”, you say and lift a bottle of his favorite beer. “Thank You Beer?”
He shakes his head, “I need to drive.”
“Okay. Then a Thank You Water?”
“Yeah, I can drink that.”
Jungkook accepts the offer because he can stay with you longer that way.
“Coming right up. Get comfy in the meantime.”
Jungkook waits on the sofa, but stands up when you come inside the room. He accepts the water and sits back down. You plop down right in front of him, pulling your legs onto the pillow. Your knees are almost touching the side of thigh.
“You seriously saved my ass tonight. I was already in bed when I felt something tickle my arm and then I turned on the lights and it was right on my arm. I screamed so loud, you have no idea.”
“That sounds traumatic.”
“It was traumatic.” You shudder. “I hate bugs.”
Jungkook laughs softly.
“What? Are you laughing at me?”
“No, just laughing ‘cause I agree. You really hate bugs.”
“I do. Awful things, seriously.”
He laughs and you laugh as well. Your eyes meet again. He takes a sip of his water then asks a question which scares him a little.
“Why did you call me?”
“Why not?”
“I, I mean”, he stutters, feeling his heart do somersaults.
“You were my first thought. It’s probably because you’re always keeping me safe.”
Jungkook swears he wants to kiss you right now. He is the first person you think of when you need help. He is your safe person. Wow, wow, wow.
“Is that weird to say?” you ask him shyly.
“Not at all”, he gets out in a terribly hoarse voice.
“Okay phew. I knew that I could count on you.”
Jungkook gives you a smile. One you retort with a vast glance at his lips.
Jungkook brings the empty glass to the kitchen to clean it after he finishes it. You follow him.
“You don’t have to clean that”, you tell him, trying to reach for the glass but he moves it away.
“I got it”, he assures you, looking at you over his arm.
You and he are so close again. He can’t stop looking into your eyes. He knows that he is delusional, but in his mind, your eyes are so bright when you look at him. But it’s not real and he is acting stupid when he is staring like that. He turns his head away, blind to the few more seconds your eyes seem to linger on his face.
“What were you doing when I called you?” you ask him, watching his hands as he washes the glass.
“Working out.”
“Really? At this time?”
“That’s when I get energised.”
“Of course you do. What were you doing?”
“Just stuff on the floor.”
“Nice. Like push ups and stuff?”
“Yeah and sit ups.”
“That’s cool.”
He has his back turned to you, putting away the glass. He is wearing a white oversized shirt, but the movement makes it stick to his body, showing not only his skinny waist but also his built, muscular back. His shoulders grew so much over the past seven months. (Seven months ago was when you decided to download a dating app and told Jungkook about it. Jungkook started working out harder since then.)
He closes the cupboard and turns.
“Something wrong?” he asks, somehow oblivious to your stares.
“Nothing, no uhm.” You look to the side. “You probably wanna leave now?”
He doesn’t want to leave.
“If you still need me here, I can stay”, he offers.
Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.
“Really?”
He nods his head, giving you a sweet smile with teeth. He would do anything for you, even mess up his sleep schedule.
“Maybe there is another bug, you know?” you say, playing with your own fingers shyly.
His heart is jumping in joy. He can stay longer.
“That could be possible, yeah. Should we check?” he offers as calmly as possible.
“Yeah, please.”
Yay! Yay! Yay!
“I know I sound so stupid.”
“You don’t. Come on, I’ll check.”
You and he go to your bedroom together. Jungkook wants to hold your hand, but knows that he can’t. You close the door to your bedroom. His pulse flutters for a moment. In another lifetime, this would be the moment you pull him into a kiss. But Jungkook knows that stupid things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies, not reality.
He has to act as your best friend who doesn’t have a crush on you if he wanted to or not. He lifts your blanket and shakes it out.
“No bugs”, he comments.
“That’s good, yeah. I should probably check the pillows.”
You crawl onto bed and make it your job to flip each individual pillow. Jungkook looks at you for a moment. He hates that things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies. Because in a different lifetime, he jumps onto bed with you to hug you. He listens to your giggle and makes you giggle even harder by tickling your sides.
You, oblivious to his longing stares, flip yet another pillow.
“No bugs here, thank god. I probably sound insane to you, but I’m actually so scared that there’s a whole bug family in this room.”
“You don’t sound insane. I’ll take care of them if we find them.”
“You’re seriously my hero.”
Jungkook is thinking. Maybe he could still make you laugh, he thinks. Not by showering you in skinship, but differently.
“Hey, check this out”, he says.
“What? Did you find another bug?!” you gasp, whipping around instantly.
“I’m a bug. Bzzz”, he says and jumps onto bed, flapping his arms as if he was a bug flying.
You cough out air, following it up with a loud laugh.
Jungkook flops onto his back and wiggles his limps.
“Now I’m flipped onto my back and can’t get up”, he says, squirming from side to side stupidly. “Help me. Bzzzz.”
You laugh to the point it becomes just a little ugly and way too loud. At least you would call it that. Jungkook calls it the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. He loves to be goofy when it means that he can make you laugh. Some people call him childish and tell him to act his age, but Jungkook doesn’t care about these people because you love the way he is. You always smile and laugh so much when he gets goofy and childish and it is so worth every rude comment he gets. One time, he played around with a snapback hat, acting silly with it until you cackled loudly. Another time he showed you a card trick with goofy sound effects, basking in the giggles you gave him. He knows that he looks stupid in these moments, but he would literally turn into a silly jester if it meant that you could laugh just one more time.
“Help me, I’m a bug and I can’t get up”, he whines dramatically.
“Wait, I’ll help you”, you joke and place your hands on his torso. One on his chest, the other on his stomach.
He tenses up like a board of wood, forgetting all about being silly. His limbs drop, as does his heart. You are touching him! This never happened before when he acted goofy. What should he do? What is the correct reaction to this?
“Why are you such a heavy bug? I can’t flip you”, you are still being playful with him, but Jungkook can’t find humour anymore. He is starstruck.
He chuckles deeply, letting out a breathy, “yeah.”
You glance at him. The second your eyes meet, his heart is racing. You are so fucking beautiful.
“Heh”, he lets out and places his hand over yours, eyes flitting to your lips unknowingly.
“Hm”, you let out, studying his gazing eyes. Your lips feel kissed just from his look.
“Mhm”, he hums and smiles, shimmying his head just a little closer to you. He feels your minty breath swirl over his face like this, squeezing your hand in reaction. What if he just did it? What if he just kissed you right here and now?
Your smile falls.
“Sorry”, you whisper, pulling your hands back and sitting up.
Jungkook gasps for air, coming back to reality. What was this moment? Is he going crazy? Why would he do that?
Your eyes meet for a brief second then you look away again, rubbing the side of your neck.
Jungkook sits up, “I should, uhm, probably check under the bed too, right?” he tries to change topics and rolls over to stick his head under the bed. He might die of heart palpitations.
There are a few boxes under the bed, some shoe boxes and an exposed adult toy. Jungkook does a double take. Oh god, panic.
Jungkook shoots back up, staring at you with big eyes.
“What?”
“You uhm…”
“What?” You crawl to the edge and bend down to look, shooting up again within a second, “What did you see??”
His entire face flushes, he looks to the side instantly, right hand coming to rub the side of his neck. Your entire face feels on fire, you want to die on the spot.
“I, I didn’t see anything I swear”, he stutters.
“Kook, please don’t remember this”, you insist, shaking him by his shoulders.
“It’s seriously fine”, he assures you, panicking so so much.
“This is so embarrassing.”
“No, it’s okay. Sorry for invading your space like that.”
“I’m actually gonna cry, please don’t remember this”, you beg him.
“I didn’t even see anything”, he lies, feeling his heart give up. For real, it will give up. He feels so guilty. You are so upset and uncomfortable and it’s all his fault. “I’m sorry.”
“No you, I guess, I don’t know, I just”, you stutter, unable to form any coherent sentences.
Jungkook feels just as awkward as you, suddenly needing to stand up.
“I think I should go”, he says.
“Really?”
“Yeah, it’s getting late.”
“Oh, yeah. Totally.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. You fucked it. You are internally panicking, blind to the fact that Jungkook is panicking as well.
His face is so red and it’s making him scared that you can see it. He doesn’t want you to think that he is imagining you like that, because he really isn’t. But for just a second it crossed his mind and it managed to dye his face so red that he feels like crying. Of course he wants to stay with you. Of course he wants to spend every single second of this night with you, talking and laughing and looking at you, but he might not be able to get rid of this blush right now. He needs to leave.
You follow behind him, panicking more and more. You let him put on his shoes and his beanie, you watch him close his jacket unable to say anything. You swear that you always clean up after yourself, but you were busy this morning and forgot to put it away after sanitizing it. Jungkook was never supposed to see it. Not him. Everyone but him.
“I’ll text you once I’m home”, Jungkook tells you.
“You’re not disgusted now, are you?” you finally get the scary words out.
“What?”
You are both dragging out the inevitable.
“I don’t know, just…I tried the dating app stuff. I met people, you know?”
Jungkook feels like dying when you talk about this stuff. He stands in the apartment complex hallways, looking at you as you tell him about your hook ups and he wants to fucking die as he does. He has been loyal to you ever since he started this stupid crush on you. Of course he knows that it is impossible of him to expect the same from you. But he has been so fucking loyal to you that you literally broke his heart seven months ago when you told him about your newest download. He wasn’t strong enough to get over his crush, so now he dies all over again each time you tell him about your hook-ups.
“And it just felt weird. I couldn’t do it”, you confess.
“Really?” suddenly what happened before is wiped from his mind. You never went through with it? His loyalty was reciprocated? Jungkook knows that he is being so delusional right now and yet he still hangs on to your every word like a worshipper of your syllables, staring at your lips as you talk.
“Yeah, but I still have needs, you know? Oh god, why did I say that? This didn’t make it better. Just forget I ever said anything.”
“I, I didn’t hear anything”, Jungkook stutters, feeling weak-kneed. The wall between him being a good person and a reckless person is as fragile as a sheet of fresh ice. One wrong step from you and he might actually confess how he really feels.
“Okay good, let’s keep it at that.” You push at his chest. Jungkook swears he actually whimpers as you do it. “Go home and let us forget about all of this, please.”
Should he do it? Should he be reckless?
You step back, now standing in your apartment.
Do it! Open, mouth!
“Text me once you’re home, okay?”
“Okay.”
No! This isn’t the right thing to say! Be reckless!
“Thank you for tonight, sleep tight.”
“Sweet dreams.”
Tell her! Fucking tell her!
The door closes.
Jungkook falls out of his fearful trance, gasping for air. His heart tells him to knock for another chance, his mind tells him not to. He turns and leaves, hitting his own head as punishment for being the most stupid person that ever existed. Tonight could have gone so well. He could have had more time with you, he got the confirmation that you never tried the dating app thing, he had everything and he has to ruin it by being a creep. Why did he look under your bed? That’s where most people store their sexy stuff. Why did he have to make you uncomfortable? What if you never want to see him again? What if he ruined your friendship without ever doing the one thing he always wished to ruin it with? In his dreams he always ruined it by confessing his feelings, but his reality was because he was a creep.
Jungkook cries in his car on his way home. He forgets about texting you and spends a sleepless night regretting his choices.
Maybe he did fall asleep, otherwise it would be impossible for his phone to rip him awake the next day. He barely opens his puffy eyes at first, but opens them widely when he sees that it is you calling him.
“Hello?” he picks up hastily.
“Oh thank god. You didn’t text me last night and I was worried.”
The text! Jungkook slaps his own forehead, sitting up straight.
“I’m so sorry, I…”
“It’s okay, I already had a gist that you forgot”, you assure him, “do you have time?”
“Of course, what’s up?”
“You know, uhm.” You laugh in embarrassment. “Last night was a mess, wasn’t it?”
“No uhm, it’s fine.”
“You wouldn’t be down for a grocery trip with barbeque and beer afterwards, would you? My treat, as an apology for traumatising you.”
“Of course, I would. Today?”
“Yes, in like two hours? I’ll get off work soon and could go straight to the store.”
You and Jungkook often go grocery shopping together. You already have a favourite store to go to. Jungkook loves these moments. He loves to carry the heavy bags for you and get the stuff you can’t reach. He loves to push the cart while you tell him about your day and then load the groceries into the bags with you. In another lifetime, you and he push the cart together and he steals kisses between aisles. In another lifetime, he holds your hand and the bags in the other. And in another lifetime, you and he go to your apartment to cook dinner for date night on the couch. Jungkook really wishes to live a different life sometimes.
“Two hours sounds great”, he agrees in a cool voice even if he wants to squeal. He gets to go grocery shopping with you! How amazing!
“Nice, then we’ll see each other there.”
“Yes, we’ll see each other. I’m really excited for it.”
“Me too. See you later, yeah? My boss is coming back.”
“See you later. Good luck at work.”
“Thanks, Kook. Bye bye.”
Goodbye, my everything, my dream girl, my love. He thinks.
“Bye.” He says.
The phone call ends. Jungkook drops back into the pillow and lets out a yelp of celebration, following it up with excessive kicking and punching of the air as well as squeaky giggles.
He didn’t ruin everything and he will see you in two hours. Today is the best day of his life! But wait! Jungkook gasps and jumps out of bed.
“I need to get ready! Shower and wash my hair and pick an outfit! And do my skincare and brush my teeth! There is so much to do, oh god” he talks to himself, running through his apartment.
You are pacing in front of the store. Jungkook isn’t late, you are just early. Early enough to become painfully aware of your nervousness. You wonder how it will be between the two of you after last night. You could barely fall asleep because you were so embarrassed. Work didn’t distract you either, your thoughts kept repeating what had happened last night. You hope that he doesn’t look at you differently after what he had to see. It would literally ruin you.
Jungkook is your best friend. But if someone asked you honestly, you would say that he is the boy of your dreams. He is everything you ever dreamed of and everything you will never be able to have. He is too perfect for you. If there were no consequences for your actions, you would tell him how you really feel. You would tell him that you think that he is the most attractive man and person you have ever seen, that he is the kindest soul with the sweetest heart. That he is talented and amazing and the funniest person ever. And that you feel safe with him.
You would tell him that every time he comes to your place or you to his’ and you spend time together, you wish that it was a date instead. You want to tell him that every time your bodies touch, your heart jumps out of your chest. You want to tell him that you keep repeating all the moments with him over and over again and that sometimes at work, you text him because you can’t stop thinking about him. You also want to tell him that you thought about killing the bug yourself before deciding to call Jungkook just to have him close.
And the worst of it all? You want to tell Jungkook that the only reason why you downloaded the dating app was to get over your feelings for him because you knew that someone as perfect as Jungkook would never want to have you. But actions have consequences and so you call him your best friend whilst secretly wishing for him to just be reckless and kiss you.
Jungkook appears on the horizon, swerving through the crowd in a stoic expression. Your heart speeds up instantly. He is wearing black pants with a stripped shirt and a black jacket today. His hair falls on soft waves, his skin glows in the sun. He is so dreamy and handsome.
His eyes find you in front of the store, his face lights up and he lifts his arm to wave at you. You wave back, bouncing on your tiptoes. He saw you! He is waving at you!
He hurries through the crowd faster than before, reaching you within moments.
“Hey there”, he says.
“Hey”, you tell him and give him a hug.
Jungkook short circuits. He gets no time to react before you already step back again. You just hugged him. Holy moly, wow.
“Sorry, was that not okay?” you ask, studying his frozen features.
“What?” He flinches back to life. “No, it was amazing, I mean, it was okay. I uhm, I have this for you.”
He lifts a bouquet of sunflowers.
“Sunflowers? For me?”
“Yeah, I saw them and thought of you.”
“You did?”
You accept them with shortened breath and a quickened heart. You are currently screeching inside. You feel on cloud nine.
“A-as a best friend of course, because we’re best friends.”
“Oh. Yes.” You clear your throat. “We are. Thank you for the friendship flowers. I’ll put them in water once I’m home. Hopefully they’ll survive till then.”
“I’m sure they will. That’s why I put the paper towel there.”
“I know, I saw. That’s so clever.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He does a little twirl so he stands next to you, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants in a cute way. “So what do we need? Any particular groceries in mind?”
You and he start walking to the store. He opens the door for you, holding it until you are inside. He follows and goes straight for the carts. You are next to him.
“Yes, I’m out of multigrain rice so I’m buying all of them to make my mixture again and I wanna stock up on udon because they have a sale going on.”
“Neat, a sale. I’ll get some too”, Jungkook says, leaning his elbows on the cart as he pushes it. “I wanna see if they have the lychees again. They were so yummy last time.”
“They were. Especially with that sauce you made.”
“I can make them for you again.”
“Really?”
He nods his head, “sure, you could come over Saturday and we’ll watch a movie. I heard that there’s a few new movies to stream.”
“I should be free on Saturday.”
“Nice, then you’ll come over.”
You and he exchange a look, breaking it quickly to look at opposite sides. Unbeknownst to either, you are both panicking. Jungkook is so excited to have you come over but is also terribly nervous about the aspect of it. You can’t wait to visit Jungkook but are also scared of the yearning.
A moment of silence where you each fill the cart with stuff you want. You and Jungkook always fill up the cart together and then separate the groceries afterwards. In another lifetime, you don’t need to separate the groceries. In another lifetime, you share the same bag and fill the same fridge to cook from the same pots and eat on your shared couch whilst a show was running.
“How was your day?” Jungkook asks because other lifetimes don’t exist and in his real life, the only shared thing he gets with you is time.
“It was okay. Yours?”
“I woke up like two hours ago.”
You chuckle, “of course you sleep while I have to work my ass off.”
“Hey, I’m on a well-deserved break, I earned the night owl lifestyle”, he throws back, making you laugh with it.
“I’m not saying anything against it. I need a break soon.”
“Is work stressful?”
“Yeah, quite. There’s been lots of new projects coming in.”
“No, I’m sorry. If there is something I can do, let me know.”
You look at him.
“I will, thank you.”
In another lifetime, you would hug his arm and rest your head against it and you would tell him that you don’t mind a stressful workday when it meant spending time with him afterwards.
Jungkook meets your eyes. His heart flutters nervously, speeding up more when you look away. If he was your boyfriend, he would hold your hand and tell you that you looked beautiful after a long work day.
“I like the way you did your hair today”, he says instinctively. He has no idea why he said that because he never says stuff like that to you. He panics because of it. His tongue worked quicker than his brain.
You reach up to feel your hair, “you do?”
“Yes, it fits you really well.”
“Thank you”, you murmur and cross a corner without warning, leaving him alone for a few seconds.
Jungkook follows after you hastily, confused as to why you so abruptly fled. Oh no. He went too far with the compliment. He definitely creeped you out again.
You are squatting down in front of the grain section, reading the labels carefully. Jungkook parks the cart next to you, standing still. He tries not to, but still looks at you. You shift your eyes to him, widen them and look away again. Jungkook swears he might cry. He made you uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry for saying that. I, I meant it as a friend.”
“Hm? Ah, it’s okay. Thank you for saying it, I liked it”, you say and stand up, filling the cart with the grain. Jungkook’s heart flutters happily. He didn’t mess up. Yay!
“Got everything you wanted?” he asks.
“Yep, except black rice. Do you see it somewhere?”
“Up there”, Jungkook says, pointing at it. The lower racks are empty, only the racks which are clearly for staff to reach so they could refill the store are stacked with the rice.
“Nice.” You try to reach it, but fail. “Kook, can you get it?”
“Sure, let me”, he says, stepping right behind you to get the rice from the staff rack. His chest brushes against your back. You gasp. He feels dizzy, but acts nonchalant.
“There we go your….rice”, Jungkook says, eyes flitting down to you looking up at him. He didn’t even realise that you turned.
There is almost no distance and so Jungkook tries to step back to be respectful because friends don’t stand this close. You grab him by his jacket, making him gulp and panic greatly. His left hand grabs the edge of the shelf, his chest lifts in a deep gasp. You are taller today because of the shoes you are wearing. The shortened distance between your lips is making him dizzy.
“About last night”, you begin, but he interrupts you before you apologise for something you have no reason to.
“It’s alright. I shouldn’t have snooped, I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t snoop, I just…I clean up, I was just busy and forgot and I”, you exhales deeply, “I’m not making it any better talking by about it, am I?”
He laughs softly and reaches down to cup your hand, caressing your knuckles softly. The lines blur more and more. You both feel weightless. You can smell his cologne like this, he can smell your perfume. It’s like you are high on each other.
“If it makes you feel any better, I have some toys too”, he says, making your eyes widen. You look to the side and let out a giggle. Jungkook knows that it is of shy nature and so he giggles with you. “Did that help or did I just embarrass myself for nothing?”
“No, it helped.” You meet his eyes, fingers squeezing his jacket.
Jungkook holds his breath, fingers tightening on the shelf. He is being so greedy. It’s so unfair to you.
“I, uhm.” He clears his throat and slips his hand from the shelf to present the rice to you. “Your rice.”
“Oh? Thanks, uhm, put it in the cart.”
He steps back. Your hands slip from his jacket, his fingers stop holding you. They tingle in the memory of how it was to cradle you this way. His thoughts are racing, trying to calculate the weight of his confession. If he confessed, what would he lose? Your friendship, your time, the movie hangouts, the cooking together, the shared workouts, your texts and calls and video chats. All your laughter and smiles and giggles. Jungkook gulps. The loss is too great. He can’t confess. Nope, never.
He grips the cart and pushes it, hoping that walking it off will help with the heart palpitations. You walk next to him, resting your hand on the metal cage part of the cart.
“Did you sleep well last night?” he asks you.
“Can I be honest? Not really. I was so embarrassed.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m just awkward.”
He chuckles, you chuckle with him. You give him a glance.
“I think I don’t have to ask you if you slept well at night because you never sleep at night.”
He laughs, you do as well.
“That’s not true. I can sleep at night too, I simply choose not to. Oh wait. I need buckwheat noodles.”
You and he stop in front of the section. You stay by the cart while Jungkook browses the options.
“Should I make you makguksu?” he offers mindlessly.
“Today?”
“Yeah.”
“So you don’t wanna go for barbecue and beer?” You chuckle and nudge his arm, sending tingles all over his skin. “Did you already forget again, you doofus?”
“I might have.” He gives you a sorry, cute smile.
Jungkook makes you laugh with it.
“Kook, you little scatterbrain you”, you chuckle, leaning into him.
Jungkook leans closer, placing his arm around your waist without touching you. In another lifetime, he would close the last distance. But not in reality. He looks at your lips, asking himself why you seek him out today and why he takes the chances so greedily. He shouldn’t do that. You are just friends, nothing more.
“Uh, sorry”, you say and step away again.
Jungkook gulps, gasps for air. He doesn’t understand what today means, but whatever you are doing is actually messing with him. He hasn’t been able to breathe properly ever since that hug you gave him. You seem so clingy, but he doesn’t understand why.
You grab the cart and push it.
“I think I have everything I need. You?”
“Yeah, yeah sure”, Jungkook stutters, stumbling after you like a lovesick puppy. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and so he ends up stuffing them into his pants pockets while his eyes are glued to the back of your head. He is seriously under your spell. Every part of him.
You load the groceries on the conveyor belt together and then load them into separate bags. You pay for all of them and wish the cashier a good day. Jungkook carries the bags like always, while you are allowed to walk freely with the bouquet of flowers cradled in your arms.
“I’ll pay you back at home”, he says, swerving outside as you hold the door open for him.
“Today’s on me. As a thank you for yesterday and an apology.”
“What? But I bought so much”, Jungkook gasps, pouting sadly.
“It’s fine. I have money.”
“But-”
“No buts. I’m paying.”
Jungkook pouts, huffing out air in defeat.
“Fine, but I’ll pay for your stuff too one day.”
You chuckle, “deal.”
You and he walk together.
“You should really start accepting when I offer. It’s not a competition.”
“I just feel uncomfortable making you pay.”
“Why?”
Because you’re his dream girl and you should never have to pay for him. He should be your wallet whenever you are out together, he should fulfil your every wish.
“I don’t know, just so. You work so hard for your money.”
“You work just as hard”, you say and chuckle. “Kook, you’re so competitive.”
Jungkook smiles, shaking his head in defeat.
“I guess am.”
You grin, hugging the flowers tighter. With a little skip in your steps, you close the distance. Just enough that one small movement would be enough for your arms to brush.
Jungkook glances at you. You are gazing at the flowers, smiling so brightly that your nose scrunches up. He could swear that your eyes are sparkling.
The lines blur again. He wonders if it would be okay for him to be a bad person, if he was allowed to slip his hand into yours even if you never gave him consent for it. There is not much he can still take.
You lower your nose into the flowers and smell them, closing your eyes in a happy squint. The metaphorical glass of how much Jungkook can take floats over.
He says your name and knows that the next words are coming out of him before he can think them through.
“Yeah?” You look at him.
He is nervous and scared, but still talks, “can we talk about something?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
Panic. His situation finally sunk into his consciousness.
“I uhm…uh…I have a crush on someone.”
Microexpressions wash over your face. Shock, surprise, disbelief, jealousy, hurt, friendliness. A smile curls your lips. It doesn’t reach your eyes.
“Yeah? It’s about time you do”, the words and your voice carry a hint of teasing, but most of all forced friendliness.
You lower the flowers, carrying them in one hand by your side. They look sad like this. Jungkook doesn’t notice because he is staring at the road in front of him because otherwise he would pass out in nervousness. He is almost twenty seven, but feels sixteen again.
“She’s like really, really great and awesome and amazing and wonderful and so kind and perfect”, Jungkook continues, heart racing to the point he feels dizzy. He saw this kind of confession in movies. He always thought that it was so cute when the guy did it. It isn’t obvious enough to ruin everything just in case you didn’t feel the same, but it is still cute enough that you can’t help but be giddy.
“Mh-hm”, you hum, nodding your head.
“And I keep thinking about her. She is so pretty when she laughs and I love being in her presence. She likes my jokes and she always makes me laugh in return. Yeah…”
“That’s great.”
“Yeah, she is so great. I really wanna ask if she feels the same.” Jungkook falters in nervousness. He is going to ask the question. He is so scared. “If you were me, what would you do?”
You take a deep breath and release it loudly, “I don’t know. I haven’t had a crush in so long.”
Jungkook falters, heart tightening. Oh no. Oh no, oh no. Oh. This is bad. This is really bad.
“Ah, I see.” He gulps.
“But let me know if you figure it out. Then we can go on a double date.”
Wait. Wait. This is bad. Double date? This is so bad.
“What do you mean?” he asks weakly.
“You know, you and your girl and me and my boy.”
“You have a boy?”
“Yeah, soon. I’m talking to this boy on the dating app. He is very cute.”
“But…didn’t you say that you gave up on the app?”
“No uh…no, it’s just that I only talk to this one boy now.”
Jungkook bites back tears.
“I see.”
“Mhm, yeah. Let’s go on a double date.”
No. No this is all wrong. No this isn’t what was meant to happen. No.
“Please.”
Jungkook doesn’t even realize that he begged out loud until you look at him in question.
“Please what?”
You and he stop. Strangers stream past you like you and he were two rocks in a river. You are facing each other, so close yet so far away.
You lied to him. There is no other boy. There never was and never will be. But there will always be other girls for him while you stay his best friend. Lying is all that you have at this point.
“Please what?” you repeat the question.
“I…” Jungkook breathes. “I…nevermind.”
Silence. Your eyes are locked so deeply that the world around you is blurry.
“Okay?”
“Mhm yeah.”
His jaw tightens and he breaks the eye contact, looking to the side with his tongue in his cheek. He seemed angry. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t feeling angry yourself. You turn away from him and continue walking. You don’t want to be next to him right now. It hurts to only stay his best friend.
He looks at the back of your head and how it becomes smaller and smaller from distance. He doesn’t understand you. He thought that the way you looked at him in the store meant something. And yet all this time you had another boy. He feels so betrayed that for just a second, he considers walking the other direction and leaving you to wonder where he went. However, two things hold him back; his competitiveness and his honest feelings for you.
He won’t stay your best friend any longer. He just decided that. He is going to fight for you, make you fall for him and forget all about the stupid boys you meet on this stupid dating app. He is better than any of them. He could treat you better, make you laugh harder, give you better hugs and kisses and provide you with afterglow so addicting you will get hot cheeks at work just thinking about it. He is your best friend, goddamn it, and he knows you better than any of these strangers ever will. And he is not going to lose you to some boy.
He jogs to catch up with you, calling your name with a certain harshness.
You turn. Your eyes meet. Jungkook’s brain short circuits.
“What?” you ask him, sounding small because of being called so harshly.
“I, I was just wondering, uhm, should we get ice cream after?” he asks because he panicked.
You shrug your shoulders, “I guess.”
“It’s on me, yeah?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Jungkook inches closer, saying your name softly.
“What do you want?”
“I messed up before.”
“What do you mean?”
“I, I just. I thought that I was doing a good job, but I think I made you think something else.”
“Jungkook. I had a long day, please don’t talk in riddles.”
“Don’t date other boys.”
“Excuse me?”
Jungkook gulps, panicking because of your offended and harsh tone.
“I, I, I just”, he stutters, widening his eyes.
“No. What do you mean? I can date who I want.”
“I know, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that, oh god, I meant that I don’t want you to see other boys.”
“Huh?”
“Ah no, wait.” He slaps his own forehead. “Wait.”
You cross your arms in front of your chest, “what makes you think that you can tell me what I can or can’t do?”
“No I didn’t mean it like that. Wait just give me a moment, please I’m panicking.”
You purse your lips, studying his face intensely.
“Are you also so nervous?” he asks.
“What’s with you all of a sudden?” you ask him, honestly worried. His face is as red as ripe strawberries.
Jungkook closes the distance and takes your hands, eliciting a gasp from you. He squeezes them gently, staring into your eyes as deeply as possible.
“This wasn’t how I always imagined this to go, but I can’t stay quiet anymore. ___, the girl I have a crush on is-”
“Seriously?”
You and Jungkook turn around at the angry voice next to you.
“Suho? What are you doing here?” you ask.
“Who’s that?” Jungkook says.
“Kim Suho. I met him on the dating app. We went on like one date a month ago”, you explain and slip your hands out of Jungkook’s hold to turn to the other guy, “what are you doing here?”
Jungkook stares at him darkly, clenching his jaw. You told him about this dude in passing. He hates him so much, hating him even more now that he interrupted this moment.
“That’s what you’re going with? Seriously?” Suho throws back.
“Yeah, you-”
“What the fuck are you doing with him? I told you to stop being friends with him, didn’t I?”
Jungkook looks at you with big eyes. You never told him that. You always said that you lost interest in Suho because of different hobbies, but never mentioned that he could have been the actual reason.
“And I told you that you can’t tell me what to do. Jungkook is my best friend and I won’t give him up for a man.”
“Yes but I wasn’t any man, I was your man.”
“Huh? No you weren’t. We went on one date and you totally lost it when I told you that I had a male best friend.”
“Because he isn’t just your friend. You’re in love with him.”
Jungkook swears that he passes out standing up for a second. Feelings? You have feelings for him? Did you tell Suho that or is he assuming because he is one of those weird men that think women aren’t allowed to have male friends? What does all of this mean?
“What?” You laugh nervously. “No? Of course not.”
“Oh don’t be ridiculous. I followed you from work and through the store. I saw everything.”
“Huh? What?” you gasp, hurrying to Jungkook instinctively because you know that he will keep you safe.
“Dude, what the fuck? You creep, stay away from her”, Jungkook says harshly and steps in front of you, feeling the fire of protectiveness start to burn in his chest.
“I saw what I saw. You have feelings for each other”, Suho says, pointing an accusing finger at you and Jungkook.
Jungkook and you exchange a look.
“No I…”
Suho scoffs and looks at Jungkook.
“And you? Gonna fucking pretend that you’re just friends or should I start punching you?”
“Dude, I’ve never even met you”, Jungkook defends himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“I’ll still fucking punch you.”
“Don’t you dare”, you hiss at him.
“Shut up, ___.”
“Hey, don’t talk to her like that”, Jungkook speaks up loudly, making himself bigger. He doesn’t care when people are aggressive to him, but he cannot accept aggression towards you.
“Or what?”
“You wanna find out? Don’t talk to her like that.”
Suho rushes to Jungkook and pushes at his chest. He thought that he could move him, but he can’t. Jungkook just gawks at him in utter surprise.
“What are you doing?” he asks confused.
“Why aren’t you budging? Fall over you idiot”, Suho growls and tries again with all his might.
Jungkook takes a small step back but then stays unmoving.
“Dude, seriously. What are you doing?”
Suho growls and punches Jungkook. Except that he is so bad at it that Jungkook can easily dodge him. He reacts calmly to the aggression, redirecting Suho by turning him and giving him a gentle push away from him.
Suho stumbles and whips around.
“You-”
Jungkook steps closer, “give it up, man.”
Suho shifts his attention to you, pointing his finger at you. He tries to get to you by swerving past Jungkook, but the latter steps in front of you again, stopping Suho with a firm hand on his chest. He didn’t show it, but the contact was definitely made with strength because Suho stumbles back from it.
“I said. Give it up. I’m not gonna repeat myself again”, he warns. For just a second his voice was deeper than usual and his eyes darker. You can’t stop staring in awe, feeling so attracted to him that it is difficult not to grab him right here and now.
Suho ignores him, talking over Jungkook’s shoulder.
“It’s over. I’m breaking up with you.”
“Huh? We weren’t even together in the first place?” you say very confused.
“Yes, well…. Now it’s really over. And just so you know, I’ll block you on everything.”
“I mean, okay.”
Suho turns and runs down the street clumsily.
A moment of silence. Jungkook turns to you. He is ready to take you into his arms if you need support.
“Everything okay?” he asks hesitantly.
“Honestly? I couldn’t care less about this tantrum. What the fuck was that? We went on one date and it sucked ass. I mean, who in their right mind expects someone to give up their best friend? I don’t even know this dude.”
“Would you have done it if you liked him?”
“What? No, of course not. I like you, not him.”
“What?!”
You look at Jungkook with big eyes.
“I, I mean…” you look at his lips and Jungkook finally notices.
Holy fuck. Suho was right.
He drops the grocery bags and closes the distance, cupping your face. To his delighted surprise, you practically melt into his hands, gazing at him with dreamy eyes and your fingers closing around his wrists greedily.
“Was he right?” Jungkook asks, looking between your right and left eye. “Do you have feelings for me?”
“I’m scared”, you whisper.
“Scared of what?”
“You are so perfect and I’m not. I don’t want to know how you feel about me, so just…let’s just forget about what happened please.”
“You’re not perfect? What the fuck? You’re literally perfect. If someone’s unworthy, it’s me.”
“What?”
Jungkook gulps.
You touch his chest.
“Kook, what?”
“You’re my fucking dream girl, ___” he finally confesses and now can’t be stopped, “I get excited when you text me and get sad when I don’t hear from you. Each time we hang out, I kinda wish that we somehow magically end up together. I repeat every little touch and shared laughter and look. Sometimes I can’t fall asleep because of you, but wish to do so because in my sleep I can meet you in my silly, wishful dreams. Do you have any idea how in love I am with you?”
“Are you serious?”
Jungkook nods his head, forcing your tears to finally flow. He gasps and begins wiping them away instantly.
“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry, I promise I won’t try anything. You, you won’t lose your best friend.”
“I’m just happy. So happy.”
“You are?”
“I feel the same for you. I have done so for a long time.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” You sniffle. “You’re my dream boy too, Jungkook.”
“Oh my god. Oh my god! Yippie!” he exclaims and overtaken by happiness, he swoops you off your feet to twirl with you, making you squeal happily as you hold onto him for dear life. Strangers definitely look at you weird, but you couldn’t care less. They are non-existent for you and him. He likes you and you like him back. This day is the best day you and he ever had.
He sets you down after the twirling, cradling your face so he could hold it still for way too many kisses. He gives you kisses everywhere except your lips, making you giggle and laugh and tingle the entire time.
“I’m so happy, you’re so pretty and perfect and amazing and pretty and amazing and I’m gonna kiss you there and there and there and oh my god you’re so perfect, I’m gonna kiss you there and there, wow oh wow…” he babbles between kisses, truly sending your heart into overdrive.
He probably would have continued his babbling for hours if you hadn’t stopped him by lacing your fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth into a kiss.
“Andmhgmh”, he lets out, gawking at you first before the realisation of his situation sinks in. His knees buckle, his left hand grabs your hips and his right hand cradles your head, eyes falling closed. He is kissing you. He feels weightless, floating in time and space. His heart races so much that he feels it throb against his ribcage, the butterflies in his stomach are unbearably exciting. He dreamt of this moment a million times before, fantasised about it twice as much and yet he still wasn’t ready for it. Your kiss is like heaven on earth. He swears that he gains new life through it. He wants to kiss you until his lungs run out of air, but you break it.
“Was that okay for me to do?” you ask him shyly.
Now it’s his turn to spill tears and for you to wipe them.
“I’m sorry, I should have ask-”, you don’t get to finish your sentence, getting kissed again by Jungkook.
“I’m so fucking happy, you have no idea”, he murmurs, showing you his feelings one deep kiss at a time. “You taste so good.” Kiss, oh so deep. “Your lips are so soft.” Kiss, the kind which makes your knees wobble. “You’re perfect, you’re so perfect.”
You giggle, gazing up at him droopily. Jungkook giggles as well, peeling his eyes open to gaze dreamily. You and he cup each other’s faces, resting your foreheads together.
“I’m happy.”
“I’m happy too.”
“Wow, I’m so happy.”
“Me too. So happy.”
You giggle together, swaying from side to side. Nothing, truly nothing, has never felt as right as this.
“Were you trying to confess to me before Suho interrupted us?”
“Yeah.”
You giggle as you talk, “you were really shit at it. I thought you were talking about someone else.”
“I know, I panicked so bad. I was so nervous”, he is giggling too, “are you actually talking to another boy?”
“Of course not, you doofus. I lied.”
“Oh my god, I’m so relieved”, he gets out and sweeps you off your feet again, carrying you under your butt. He twirls with you, smiling up at you as you squeak and laugh with your head thrown back.
“Jungkook stop please, I’m getting dizzy.”
He sets you down, but keeps touching you, seeking your closeness by rubbing his nose against your cheek. He is so close that the sunflowers are getting squished between you and him. It is a price you sadly have to pay in exchange for finally being able to be glued together.
“I’m so happy, I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Kook. So like barbeque and beer? Is it a date?” you ask.
“It’s the datiest date that has ever dated”, he says, making you giggle because he is so cute and funny and you like him so, so much. He giggles with you because you are so perfect and perfect and perfect and he likes you so, so much.
“I feel like we have a lot to talk about.”
“Yeah, oh god.” He kisses your cheek multiple times. “You have to tell me all the thoughts you had when we hung out. Were you also so giddy, oh god, I was always so giddy and I kept looking at you because you are so pretty. Were you looking at me too? And, and did you also wish for me to be reckless? I always wanted you to just kiss me. I’m talking so much, wow, I’m so happy.”
You giggle, cuddling into him, “you’re the cutest person ever. I can’t wait to tell you everything.”
You nudge him to leave, but stop when Jungkook exclaims a loud “wait!”
“What’s wrong?”
“The groceries. I almost left them here”, he says, bending down to get them.
“Oh god, you’re so cute”, you snicker, hugging his arm and nuzzling into him like you always wanted to do.
#jungkook fluff#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook romance#jungkook scenario#jungkook oneshot#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts fluff#bts romance#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts oneshot#bts scenario#bts x reader#bts x you#bangtan fluff#bangtan fanfic#bangtan romance#bangtan fanfiction#bangtan oneshot#bangtan scenario#bangtan x reader#bangtan x you
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goodnight n go
★ | member — fwb!vernon x f reader ★ | genre — smut, angst, non-idol au, happy ending, fwb to lovers ★ | word count — 10.2k
★ | synopsis — you keep coming back for more, but every night ends the same. maybe this time things will be different.
★ | warnings — guitarist!vernon, rock band!hhu, mentions of alcohol, vernon has commitment issues (but he gets over it) ★ | smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, consensual drunk sex, car sex, oral (reader receiving), fingering, piv, making out, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk vernon (he's down baddd), some aftercare ★ | notes — thanks to @onlymingyus for always being the best and to @wonustars for proofreading !! i did not intend for this fic to be this long but i'm actually really proud of how it turned out so i hope you like it!! also i often make playlists for my fics but i never share them, but i've been listening to this one for months while i've been writing this fic so i'll link it so you can listen too. if you enjoy this fic, please reblog and let me know in the tags!! reblogs are super important to tumblr and they help motivate me to keep writing more like this :)
check out the playlist! featuring — goodnight n go - ariana grande ; black eye - vernon ; uh oh - tate mcrae ; sunset - caroline polachek ; romanticise this - james marriott ; entertainer - zayn ; & more
“hey, you wanna get drinks tonight?”
as usual, that’s how it starts.
you probably should have said no. you’d played this game before. you knew exactly what hansol meant when he offered to hang out after band practice, because it was never just “hanging out”.
you don’t even know why you still go to practices anymore. for a long time you’d avoided them; it wasn’t really your style, and you were never interested in being a groupie for their local gigs. your roommate seungcheol always invited you to every practice and every time you declined with the excuse of homework or other plans, but cheol finally convinced you to come just one time.
at first, it had been because he wanted you to hear a new song they were working on and he’d wanted to know how you liked it before they played it at an upcoming show. but then he’d introduced you to the rest of his bandmates, and after that there was no going back.
you couldn’t help the way your eyes always gravitated towards hansol, who insisted that you call him his real name instead of his stage name that everyone else called him. from the very first practice, you were captivated by him: the way his long fingers seem to dance along the neck of his guitar so effortlessly, the way his voice rasps when he sings, the way your breath catches in your throat when he grips the microphone stand and rolls his head back, lips parted in ecstasy.
he’s addictive, and it’s exactly the reason why you find yourself in the backseat of his car over and over again.
every time, it was easy to pretend that things would be different. you’d walk into the bar together and sit at the table in the back, order a few drinks, chat for a while about nothing. did you like the new stuff we played tonight? yeah, i know cheol is really excited to perform it saturday. you been doing any writing lately? mmm, a little. i’ve been feeling inspired. we could go back to my place and i could show you. except he never does.
hansol wasn’t a bad guy. he always paid for your drinks no matter how many times you offered to pick up the tab, he was polite, he listened to what you had to say. he just didn’t want more than that, and that’s where it all fell apart. you’d screw around for a while, then you’d part ways and wouldn’t speak to each other until next week. you never went to see them play shows, he never texted, you never called, never went on a real date besides meeting in the same bar down the street every thursday night after practice.
he seemed fine with that. you weren’t. and yet every time, you ended up back in his arms.
he groans into your mouth, pushing his hips into you and pinning you harder against the faded leather seats of his old honda. his lips are sloppy but eager, messily pressing his mouth into yours as his fingers tangle in the hair at the base of your neck. you can taste the beer and smoke on his breath, but for some reason it doesn’t bother you. maybe you’re used to it, or maybe it’s just because it’s him. you don’t want to know which reason is the truth.
he kisses you until you’re dizzy, and you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or from the thrill of kissing him once again. it’s a high you’re convinced you’ll never get tired of, although you’re not quite sure yet if it’s one that he will.
hansol always lets you set the pace, but tonight he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. both of your shirts met the floor of his car what seems like hours ago, leaving you in just your bra and pants as he makes out with you as if it’s the first and last time he’ll get that chance. his fingers breeze over your waist the same way they breeze over his guitar strings when he plays: careful yet greedy, each touch intentional yet impulsive as he grips your waist.
he drags his fingers higher and it sends a shiver down your spine, arching your hips up against him and rolling your head back against the seat’s headrest. if there’s only one upside to this relationship, it’s that he’s good at this. really good. if he weren’t, then you wouldn’t have spent so many nights letting him fuck you in the parking lot of your shitty local bar. it does something for your confidence knowing that he must feel the same about you, or else he wouldn’t keep inviting you out. at the very least, this arrangement is mutual, even if you wish it wasn’t.
his hips rock against your crotch again, and even through both of your clothes you can feel how hard he is. your mind is clouded, everything’s a haze, and all you can think about is how badly you want him. the warmth of his skin, the gentle scratch of his nails on the back of your neck, his long eyelashes that flutter against your cheek as he kisses you.
you feel your hands slide haphazardly down his bare chest, fumbling over his hips as you tug on the waistband of his jeans. none of it feels graceful, not like the way he handles his music. it’s sloppy, desperate, clumsy, and it’s everything you need right now.
he manages to lean back from you enough to undo his pants and push them down to his knees, but his mouth is back on yours in an instant. somehow you end up on your back across the seats, gazing up at him with slack lips as his thin silver chain dangles over your face. you might not remember a lot of what happens on these nights when you’re with him, but you’ll always remember this moment. him hovering above you with heavily lidded eyes, biting his lip and cursing as he pushes into you, is etched into your mind in a way you simultaneously love and hate. love because it feels so good, hate because it never lasts.
the last half of those nights never stands out in your memory. you remember feeling good, you remember trembling in his arms and gasping and moaning and crying in pleasure, but the images are too fuzzy to make out. you don’t really need to reflect on them anyway; you know he’ll just bring you out next week and do it all over again.
hansol kisses you once more after you’re both finally spent, but the kisses afterwards are always different. more… hesitant, more uncertain. none of the passion and desperation that you’ve come to crave from him. not what you really want.
“i can drive you home,” he offers once he’s finished cleaning you up. for once you think he might genuinely mean it, but you can never be sure enough to take that chance. you want him to drive you home. god, you want him to so bad. to have him come over with you and stay the night, stay another night and another until your apartment isn’t just yours anymore, that’s what you’ve wanted all this time. and it’s what you’ll never have.
“i’ll call an uber,” you answer.
“i’ll wait with you, then.”
the silence that settles over his car is heavy as you climb back into the front passenger seat. you want to tell him to get in the uber with you, stay more than just a couple hours with you in the furthest back corner of the bar parking lot that’s too far to be illuminated by streetlights. you want to argue that he’s too drunk even to drive himself, that he needs to come home with you and sleep it off together in the comfort of your bed, but you know it’s not true and it won’t work. this is a conversation you’ve had many times before. every night you’ve spent with him blurs into the next, always the same.
sometimes you want to laugh at how naive you are, for thinking he’d eventually come to his senses and realize there’s more to you than a good lay before a gig. sometimes you want to grab him and shake him by the shoulders and tell him to grow the fuck up, give him an ultimatum and make him tell you what he wants from you or else put an end to it all. sometimes you just want to cry, to mourn your wasted time when you’re fully aware it’s never going to lead to something more, no matter how badly you want it and how hard you try.
no matter how many times you get your hopes up, no matter how many times you pray and beg and plead with god and the universe and every other higher power to get him to realize this can’t keep going on the way it is forever, nothing ever changes. you’re never going to stop running to him when he calls, and he’s never going to stop calling.
finally another car pulls into the lot, and you manage to pull yourself out of his car. you hear your name behind you and you stumble, swaying on your feet as he rolls down his window.
maybe this time will be different.
he says his usual goodbyes and goodnights, flashing you a loose grin and a wave as his engine sputters to life, and he asks if you’re planning on coming to practice next week.
and you find yourself nodding.
you’re left standing there, your head and your heart pounding, watching his headlights fade as he drives away, until you’ve stood there for so long that your ride starts honking and calling for you to get in the car so you can leave.
maybe next time will be different.
this is going to be the last time, you swear.
you exhale as you stand inside the lobby of the venue, repeating the words to yourself. there’s a chill in the air tonight. the wind blows smoke in your direction from the couple standing by the door, abandoned cigarettes clutched between their fingers as they make out sloppily.
you grimace and turn away, studying the faded graffiti and half-ripped posters and advertisements that litter the walls around you. you mean it this time, seriously. the only reason you came tonight was because it’s the last time. a goodbye, of sorts.
you have to admit, you were a little shocked when hansol texted you after your weekly meet-up after practice. not only did he want to make sure you got home safe after you left, but he’d asked if you’d come to their next performance.
you stare down at your phone in your hand, rereading the texts for what feels like the thousandth time in the past few days just to make sure you haven’t imagined them. but no, there they are, bright pixels staring right back up at you from the screen.
hansol: hey just wanted to make sure you made it back home
hansol: btw we’re playing at the phoenix on saturday and i was wondering if you had plans? i wanna see you
hansol: maybe we could get dinner after or somethin if youre down idk
hansol: hoping youll be there
you’d been tempted to refuse him, out of bitterness or resentment or something else, but you can’t say you weren’t shocked by his offer. he’d suggested every once in a while that you should come see them play sometime, but it was always clear to both of you that it was out of small talk rather than genuine interest in you being there. but this time he’d said he wanted you there.
it was nice to feel wanted, for once. maybe you hadn’t been going crazy. maybe things really were different this time.
you glance at your phone once more to check the time before you slip it into your pocket, taking a deep breath as you walk through the second set of doors into the main room. you can hear the deep sound of wonwoo’s drums warming up, but the stage is obscured behind a ratty set of faded red curtains.
there’s still a few minutes before their set, but the room is already crowded with people so you push your way to the side wall near the back. you don’t really want anyone to see you here, anyway. you don’t want anyone to see that your resolve is paper-thin when it comes to hansol.
you hadn’t told him that you were coming tonight, just sending him a vague response and telling him you’d have to see if your schedule is free. even that felt too generous, after the anguish he’s put you through the past few weeks. he doesn’t need to know that you’re here, just like he doesn’t need to know the real reason you’ve been avoiding ever coming to see him play. and it’s not because you always have other plans.
you’re hoping to just watch the performance quietly from the back, then sneak out without ever having to talk to him, and text him later that you’d enjoyed it. you already knew you were going to enjoy it. you’d heard every original song, cover, and riff they’d ever played together, and at this point you could probably recite their setlist by heart. anyone could see that they were talented together, so it isn’t surprising that the venue is packed tonight. honestly, it’d be for the better if you got lost in the crowd and never saw him face to face.
the house lights suddenly fade into darkness and the crowd starts to quiet, the curtains finally pulling back to reveal the band. seungcheol stands in front of a microphone in the center of the stage, with wonwoo in the back at his drum set and mingyu to his left holding a bass guitar. and then, of course, there’s hansol.
you hate the way your gaze immediately lands on him, standing in the same position he always does, with his guitar slung around his neck by a thick red strap. the crowd starts cheering, and distantly you recognize seungcheol’s voice introducing the group, but you can’t make out any of his words.
your mind flashes back to all the nights you’ve spent sitting on a folding chair in mingyu’s garage, watching them laugh and bicker and fool around. it’s different seeing them actually on a stage for once, the metal of their instruments glinting under the harsh, colorful stage lights.
it’s not a large stage by any means, just a few feet higher than the ground and barely wide enough for all four of them to fit. but their presence is captivating, and it makes the dingy local theater seem more special than it really is. but then again, hansol makes everything seem more special than it really is.
seungcheol finishes speaking and the crowd around you lets out whoops and cheers, but you stay silent. your eyes are still stuck on hansol, watching him scan the crowd as he twists the tuning pegs on his guitar.
even from the back of the room, you can tell he’s nervous. his fingers shake just a little, in a way you know they never do because you’ve watched him tune his guitar a thousand times under the dim interior lights in his car. you watch his eyes dart around the room, squinting to see into the crowd before turning his attention back to the fretboard in his hands.
he’s not the most outgoing guy in the world, but at the same time you know he’s not the kind of person to get stage fright. something is different this time. or, maybe it’s not. you’ve never actually seen him play in front of an audience. you don’t know him as well as you think you do, you have to constantly remind yourself every time your mind starts to wander and you let yourself daydream. after all, he doesn’t know anything about you, and he doesn’t seem to care enough to learn. neither should you.
the band opens with a song you’ve heard a thousand times, then another and another, pausing after every few songs to talk to the crowd. time seems to fly by around you, but everything moves in slow motion when you're looking at hansol. you study the way his hair falls in soft brown waves around his face, his head bobbing to the rhythm as he strums his guitar. it's one thing you've always enjoyed about watching him play; he always gets so lost in the music, and it's fascinating to watch. it's clearly on the list of things he's passionate about, and even if you aren't one of those things, at least you get to see him doing something he loves.
you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. you can't let yourself think like that. you're here to end things, not to reminisce. you shouldn't care if he likes music or not, that's not your problem anymore. he's not your problem anymore.
you zone out for a while, trying hard not to think about him but he's the only thing you can focus on. your eyes wander every once in a while, when you hear cheol's raspy voice in the mic or a particularly cool guitar riff from mingyu, but they always end up back at hansol.
they finish playing what you know is their last song, but the crowd is still bursting with electricity. it’s not long before everyone starts to chant, begging for one more song.
“encore?” seungcheol laughs into the mic, and flashes one of his signature dazzling smiles that sends the group of girls standing in front of you into hysterics. he glances over at hansol and nods. “mmm, yeah. i think we can do one more.”
you fold your arms over your chest. now is probably your best chance to leave. it’s not a very big venue, but from the amount of people here it’s obvious that there’ll be chaos once things are over as people start to file out. though most of them will probably be trying to fight their way to the front instead, giving wonwoo their phone numbers written on stained cocktail napkins and asking mingyu to sign their tits. but just as you’re about to start pushing your way back towards the exit, cheol’s deep voice makes you pause.
“we’re gonna play something real special tonight,” he says, making eye contact with hansol again. “something brand new, that we’ve never performed before. you guys wanna be the first to hear it?”
the room erupts into cheers again, and cheol grins. “yeah, i figured. so, i’m gonna let vernon explain this one. take it away, man.”
you stand still, arms crossed and curiosity piqued. maybe you can wait until after the last song. if this is going to be your last hurrah, then you might as well see it through til the end. just this once, and never again.
hansol clears his throat and looks out into the darkened theater. “this song is about a girl i’m in love with,” he starts. that gets a light laugh out of the crowd, a couple whistles and cheers, and he chuckles into the microphone before continuing. the words that have been brewing in your head for weeks seem to instantly melt on your tongue as his voice rings in your ears, echoing through your mind. that’s not you. that’s definitely not you.
“i hope she’s here tonight, but i wouldn’t blame her if she wasn’t. because i think i kind of fucked everything up.” he swallows, his eyes darting back and forth as he scans across the crowd, searching for something. searching for you? “so if she’s out there, i’m sorry. and i know this won’t make up for it, but i hope you like it anyway.”
the crowd cheers again, louder than they have all night, but the noise quickly dies down once hansol begins to play. the lights go dim, and the room fills with a soft melody from his guitar. the sound is unfamiliar, a song you haven’t heard before, and you realize he must’ve been working on it outside of the band’s usual practices.
even if he isn’t talking about you, the song is beautiful. his guitar seems to sing every note that plays, and you can practically see the air around him shimmering with energy. the rest of the room seems to fade away, the audience that separates you suddenly disappearing. it’s like you’re the only two people around, sitting beside him as he plays just for you.
he’s done that a few times, played you little snippets on his guitar. you can almost picture it now: it’s always right after he parks outside the bar, before you head inside together. he’ll unzip the case and pull his guitar from the backseat, positioning it on his lap. he comes up with a different reason every time; sometimes he’ll ask if the chords he’s been working on sound good together, sometimes he’ll tell you to listen to see if it needs tuning, sometimes he’ll say he just needs to practice this section a couple more times before giving up for the night and getting shitfaced with you off too many shots.
but you always see right through his flimsy excuses; obviously he’s doing it to show off, to impress you or something. but for the life of you, you’ve never been able to figure out why. why should he care about impressing you, if he doesn’t want to go any further with you?
and suddenly, as you stand in the back of the theater, watching his eyes sparkle under the lights and his fingers breeze over his guitar, looking more focused and frustrated and angry and sad and sorry than you’ve ever seen him look, now you finally have your answer.
you don’t want him to be talking about you. he shouldn’t be talking about you. you almost wish he would just be an asshole to you, give you a good reason to yell at him and cuss him out and tell him to fuck off, but he never does. sure, he’s a little dense to the not-so-subtle hints you’ve been trying to drop, but he’s always been good to you, even if it’s breaking your heart in the process. maybe you’ve been the dense one all along.
the show ends in a blur, and the lights come back on as people start to file out. there's cheers and more shouts for another encore, but it's clear the night is over. this is the part you've been dreading; even after days of convincing yourself, you're still not sure what you're going to do.
when the crowd finally clears out enough for you to move towards the stage, you can already see the group that’s formed around the members. cheol is off to one side, giving out autographs to whoever waves their napkins closest to him. mingyu’s helping wonwoo pack up his drum kit, smiling shyly at the girls calling his name and promising he’ll come back out to the lobby to meet them once he’s finished.
and then there’s hansol, looking flustered as people crowd around him, a deep blush in his cheeks as he waves his hands to try and get them to leave. you’re just far enough from his line of sight that you almost hesitate. it’s not too late to turn around. it’s not too late to leave before he can see you, to disappear from his life forever, but your heart won’t let you.
you walk a little closer to the stage, hanging back behind the crowd of people, but he sees. his face lights up with relief, and even from a few feet away you can still see his eyes soften. he tells the people to move, more firmly with his words this time, and he hops down off the stage as they part to make room for him. when it’s clear his attention is no longer on them, they grumble and walk away, talking to their friends about the show and how hot all the members are and how they’re definitely planning on coming back the next time they perform.
hansol reaches you in a couple of strides, stopping just in front of you. he stays silent for a second, his eyes roaming over you almost gratefully.
“hi,” he says finally, offering you a lopsided smile. he wipes his palms on his jeans nervously. “you came.”
you bite your lip for a second before you nod. “i did.”
“so you’re— did you— were you here for the end of the show?” he asks, trying to hide the stutter in his words. it’s cute how shy he is all of a sudden. it’s not like him to be shy like this. but then again, the only times you’ve seen him are when he’s playing with the guys or fucking your brains out while he's drunk, so it’s not like you’ve really gotten to know him. maybe he’s always been this shy and you were just too caught up in him to notice.
you know what he’s trying to say without outright saying it. obviously you were there the whole time, a fact you aren’t the proudest of, but you aren’t about to let him know that. “i heard your song,” you finally settle on, cutting straight to the point.
his face goes through about a hundred emotions in the span of a second, from surprised to happy then right back to shy again. “yeah?”
even though most of the room has cleared out by now, he starts walking as he talks, pulling you through the side door into the quieter backstage area. you follow him around the corner until you reach a private room, a wrinkled sheet of paper taped to the door with his name written in sharpie. his guitar case that you've seen so many times lies open on the floor, his backpack slumped against one wall.
“i liked it.”
he exhales in relief as he turns back around to face you, and you can almost see his whole body relax. “i'm so fucking sorry,” he says, nearly stumbling over his words with how fast he tries to get them out. “i've been really, really stupid. the way i left you the other night… i shouldn't have let you go like that. i regretted it the second you left.”
you purse your lips as you listen. you can tell he really means it, and it's getting harder and harder to stay mad at him. but you can't let him off that easy, not after how long you've been going through this.
“i just don't understand what it is you want, hansol. you treat me like— i don't know, like nothing.” you pause and chew on the inside of your cheek for a second, letting your words sink in. “and then out of the blue you beg me to come to your show, and you play this really sweet, heartfelt song, so how the hell am i supposed to take that?”
he winces, but the wounded look on his face doesn't feel as satisfying as you'd hoped it would. “i know. i'm just… i'm bad with words. i'm better at music.” he sighs. “but that's not an excuse. i didn't ever wanna make you feel like that, not on purpose. i just got scared. but i shouldn't have.”
you stand silently, waiting. clearly, there's more on his mind. he stuffs his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, shifting from one foot to the other.
“i love the way you laugh. i love the way you watch me when i'm playing and it makes me feel like the only person in the whole world. i love the way you smile when you're drunk and the way you kiss me. and it was stupid of me to ever think i didn't want that all the time.” he lifts his gaze to meet your eyes, the fear in his expression more obvious than anything you've ever seen before.
you let out a breath, your voice dropping almost to a whisper. “you should've just said that.”
“i should've,” he agrees.
you offer him a tight-lipped smile, trying to keep yourself together. this is not how you thought tonight would go. you didn't even think you'd talk to him, and if you did, you thought it would be a shouting match, screaming and cursing before angrily storming out of the venue, finally feeling vindicated after all this time. yet here you are, standing quietly in front of him and trying not to cry.
he waits for a second, trying to gauge your reaction before he continues. “you're, like, my best friend,” he says, adding a nervous little chuckle to lighten the mood. “i think about you every time i play or whenever i try to write something. it's always about you. you don't know how much i look forward to thursday practices and getting to see you.”
now it's your turn to laugh. “you literally could've just texted me and i probably would've dropped everything to be there, anytime.”
he grins, his smile a little wider this time. “yeah, i know. i tried, the other day when i invited you. that was scary as shit.”
he looks up at you again, his soft brown eyes and long eyelashes shining even under the dim flickering bulb overhead. “i'm really glad you came tonight, though. i wasn't expecting you to, but i really hoped you would.” he offers you another nervous smile. “will you let me try again?”
you don't answer right away, and the look of nervousness starts to seep back into his features. “i promise i—”
but you cut him off, pulling him in by his shoulders and pressing your lips against his. he falters for just a second but his arms immediately wrap around your waist, tilting his head to lean into the kiss, and somehow that one little action feels more natural than anything you've ever done together.
you slide your tongue against his lips, and he lets out a groan into your mouth before he pulls back to breathe. “is that a yes?”
you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes and laugh, but instead you just nod. “yes.”
you definitely didn't come here tonight expecting to get laid. in fact, the last thing you ever thought you'd do is sleep with hansol again. but all of that feels like a distant memory as you head out of the community theater together, his guitar case over his shoulder, walking hand in hand towards his car.
the routine is familiar, but nothing is the same. you're not drunk, you're not in the parking lot of a cheap bar, and you don't feel lonely anymore.
he unlocks the doors and you start to climb into the backseat, but he lets out a little noise and shakes his head, and you look up at him in confusion.
“we're going back to my place. or yours, if you want.” he reaches down to offer his hand and help you out of the car. “i said i was gonna do it right this time, didn't i?”
by the time you get back to your apartment, your stomach is in knots in the very best way. your hands shake as you fumble with your keys, and if you weren’t so on edge it would have almost made you laugh, the way hansol looks away and pretends not to notice. you're more alike than you thought, and suddenly you're overcome with a feeling of excitement. now you get to discover all these little things about him: things you didn't allow yourself to see before, things he wants to show you and tell you and share with you.
you try not to let the awkwardness seep back in, but you pause outside your bedroom door, almost as if you're waiting for hansol to tell you what to do. in just one night he's turned your life on its head, and now you're at a loss.
so he takes it as a sign and kisses you, his hands finding your waist and slowly trailing up your body until he's cupping your chin. it's different from all the other times he's kissed you. it's not just the fiery passion you're used to when you can tell he's worked up, but there's a hint of uncertainty in it, more similar to the kisses he gives you afterwards when you're trying to figure out whether to ask for a ride home or not. and then, the pieces finally settle into place and you realize he wasn't kissing you like that because he didn't want you; he was kissing you like that because he did.
you pull away and he freezes a little, and you can tell from the worried look in his eyes that he thinks he's gone too far. “relax,” you laugh softly, your forearms still resting on his shoulders.
he complies, but his eyes still dart across your face in nervousness. despite how badly he wants you, how badly he needs to prove himself to you, there's clearly still so much that needs to be discussed before you can move forward, things that've been left unsaid for far too long.
you inhale and look up into his eyes, trying to find what emotion is hidden there. “what do you want, hansol?”
“want you to be my girlfriend,” he breathes out without hesitating. if it were any other time and place you might've thought he was joking, but you can tell he's dead serious.
“i—” whatever words you had ready instantly die in your throat, not expecting such a genuine answer. “yes. but i meant, like, right now. what do you want, right now.”
his expression shifts in understanding and he grins, though it's still shy. “oh. well…” he pauses again to think. “what do you want me to do?”
you watch his eyes carefully for a moment before you reply. you've wanted him to do a lot of things. you wanted him to be better, you wanted him to be worse. you wanted him to do anything besides being stuck in this weird limbo of friend-zoned friends with benefits. but now that the choice is up to you… you don't want any of that.
“i want you to be honest,” you start softly, almost shy to say it, but you know it needs to be said. “i want you to tell me how you feel. because i can't lie, you really fucked up. i shouldn't have given you so many chances.” he winces at that, but you brush your thumb along his cheek and pull his attention back to you. “but i did. so you need to earn my trust again. and i just want you to not be so afraid anymore.”
he stays silent for a long moment before he nods, as if he's seriously considering your words. “i know,” he says finally. his voice is quieter now, barely above a whisper. “i'm sorry. you're gonna get so fucking sick of hearing me say how sorry i am, but i'm not gonna stop saying it.”
you want to laugh, but his tone is so serious that you know you shouldn't, so you keep a straight face and ask him again. “so… what do you want?”
he lets out a sigh, still holding you face in his hands. “shit, everything. but, first— i really wanna taste you. can… can i?”
you take a step backwards into the bedroom and he follows, tearing off clothes one by one in a hurry until you're both left with just underwear. with the limited space in his car you've never actually been fully naked together before, and the thought of him seeing you is both terrifying and exhilarating.
he leans you down onto the bed and you pull him down with you. he falls beside you, pausing to kiss you once more before rolling off the bed and onto his knees, holding your legs in front of him as he stares up at you.
it's the kind of image that could drive a woman mad. you didn't think he was capable of being this patient, but it seems he's full of surprises tonight. “yes,” you breathe out and finally give him an answer. your eyes are locked onto his, a silent conversation happening between you in the span of a second.
he clears his throat and slowly pries your legs apart, pulling his gaze away from your face to stare between your thighs instead.
“god, this pussy…” he groans in delight as he settles your legs over his shoulders, his gaze transfixed on the wet spot at the seat of your panties.
he slides his palms up your thighs, and for his sake you pretend not to notice the way his fingers are shaking just a little. you lift your hips to encourage him, and he slips his long fingers beneath the hem of your panties before pulling them down, taking his time to slide them off and toss them on the floor behind him.
his hands immediately come back up to your thighs, using his thumbs to press your legs apart to give him a better view.
“so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles to no one but himself. it's like he's in a trance, admiring the dripping mess between your legs like it's about to be his last meal. if he hadn't been so enthusiastic, you might've been embarrassed at the electric shiver that runs through you from his praise. but when there's a man this hot in front of you, kneeling and staring up at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life, it's hard to feel embarrassed for long.
he leans in and presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your clit, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the feeling. he's never been incredibly rough with you before, but he’s never been this gentle, either. he's touching you so delicately, like a statue at a museum that he's not sure yet if he's allowed to touch or not.
your reaction spurs him on, and he leans in further to flatten his tongue against your entrance and gives a long, slow lick. your hips lift automatically, trying to push him closer and add more pressure.
he curls his tongue through your folds before pulling away, his hands coming up to rest on your hip bones and hold you down. “even better than i imagined,” he groans, looking up at you from his spot on the floor, and the image of him down there makes you so dizzy that you have to lay back down against the bed again.
“more,” you whimper desperately. in the back of your mind there's a distant feeling of shyness at how demanding you're being, but you don't think twice about it. after everything he put you through, he still needs to prove himself to you, that he's not going to break your heart again. but he's doing a damn good job so far. “vernon— ah, fuck!”
“mm, anything.” he presses a kiss against the soft skin on inside of your thigh. “anything you want, baby.”
you don't even have time to process the nickname before he's diving back in, his lips wrapped around your clit as he sucks at you. you let out a strangled noise of surprise, your hand instantly flying down to hold his head.
your fingers tangle in his hair, his tongue so deep in your pussy that you're already gasping and writhing under his touch. you can't tell which one of you has been more stupid for not letting this happen sooner, because it almost seems like he's enjoying this more than you are.
the coil in your stomach already feels like it's about to burst, pent up with white-hot energy that feels hotter than the sun. it hardly takes a few more pointed laps of his tongue before you fall apart into his mouth, whimpering and groaning and begging shamelessly for him.
“you called me vernon,” he says when you finally manage to push his head away, shivering with overwhelming sensitivity. he lifts one hand to wipe at his chin, way too nonchalant after everything he just did.
you're still fighting through the haze of your orgasm but his words bring you back down to earth, and your face fills with heat. “huh? sorry, i—”
“everybody calls me vernon,” he says as he shakes his head, quickly cutting you off. he stands up and moves onto the bed, flopping down beside you. “i liked that you always called me hansol. made it feel special.”
your eyes follow his movements, still laying on your back as you catch your breath. “but…?”
he grins, and you swear there's a hint of blush in his cheeks. “but that was really sexy when you called me vernon. it sounds way cooler when it's coming from you.”
all you can do is laugh, letting your eyes close as you rest your hands on your stomach. “noted,” you giggle. “so should i do it more, then?”
he hums in thought, rolling over onto his side so that he's closer to you. “you can do whatever you want, baby.”
that nickname again. he's already started leaning in to kiss you again, but you grab his shoulders and pull him down to meet him halfway. there's a bitterness on his tongue that you'd almost forgotten about, but you're quickly reminded once you feel his hand sliding across your stomach and down back between your legs. you let out a surprised but happy moan into his mouth, one of your hands moving to the back of his head to kiss him harder.
your legs part, accepting the warmth of his palm as he gently presses it against your sensitive clit. he holds his hand there for just a moment, pausing his movements as he kisses you, eagerly swallowing the whimpers and sounds you give him in return.
after a minute he shifts his hand, carefully pressing his index and middle finger into you. you're right up at the edge again already, clenching down hard around his fingers as he sets a slow pace, pulling them out halfway before thrusting them in deeper than before. you're seeing stars, releasing a constant stream of muffled moans into his lips as he curls his fingers inside you. he follows the rhythm of your hips as you rut against his palm, letting the movement force his fingers even deeper.
his fingers are dripping with your juices, down his knuckles and pooling in his palm, but it only makes him want to fuck you even more. it's not like this is the first time he's fingered you. the guys at the auto shop down the street know him all too well, from the amount of times he's had to take his car in to get the seats cleaned. he always claims that it's because he's a messy eater, and while that's true in some ways, he knows those guys don't buy it for a fucking second.
his fingers are completely buried inside you but he never stops kissing you, breathing almost as heavily as you are. he stops thrusting his fingers and adjusts his hand once more, pressing his thumb against your clit to rub lazy circles over it.
“ver—vern— fuck, hansol!” you finally manage to pull away from his lips, nearly gasping for air as another orgasm rips through you. his other hand slides down your body and it feels like the first time you've ever been touched, his palm so warm and tender against your skin that it somehow makes your high even better. you're shaking in his arms, lips parted in a soundless moan as you clench wildly around his fingers, but he just holds you tighter against his body and keeps pressing kisses along your jaw.
his lips are wet with both spit and slick as he watches you, his eyes filled with stars. usually when you're together, in the dark backseat of his car illuminated only by the moonlight and nearby streetlamps, it's hard to make out the details. it's dark, and everything is fuzzy from both the alcohol and the late hour. but now, he's realizing how stupid he was for never letting this happen sooner. he could've ended up going his whole life without ever seeing you like this, laying completely fucked out under the soft light in your bedroom, your pupils wide and eyes watery and so, so beautiful.
he waits until you've calmed down again, leaning away to give you a little space, but your hand shoots out to grab his wrist and keep him close to you and he can't help but smile. when you open your eyes you're expecting to find a cocky smirk, to see how proud of himself he is for having you in the palm of his hand so easily, but it's not there. just that soft smile.
“now. what do you want?” he says. “i should be asking you that way more often.”
“want you inside,” you pant out. “now. please? i— i missed you.” you shouldn't have said the last part out loud, but at this point you don't care anymore. all your cards are out on the table.
his eyes widen a little at your boldness, but he bites his lip and nods. he can't lie and say he wasn't secretly hoping you'd say that, but he'd be just as happy to sit here on the floor and eat you out over and over and over again. he'd do anything you want at this point, and not just because he feels like he owes you. he does, but it's deeper than that. it's a different kind of feeling, one that makes him want to do cheesy shit like lay his jacket over puddles for you and buy an airplane to write your name in the sky.
as he starts to position himself between your legs on the bed, you watch his face. his expression is outwardly neutral, but little by little you've started to recognize the signs of his happiness. it looks good on him.
but your brain isn't content with that, not just yet. you swallow as a thought crosses your mind, and you can't push it down any longer.
“wait,” you say quietly, forcing the word out before you can reconsider. he stops immediately, his eyes searching your face for anything he can find, any sign that you've changed your mind about this.
“yeah?” he replies, his voice just as quiet, as if he's afraid to speak too loudly and break the tension of this moment.
you clear your throat as best you can manage, though it's kind of starting to get sore from how much and how loudly you've been moaning all night. “just curious,” you start, nervousness suddenly starting to creep in. but tonight is for being honest, and you can handle the truth. probably.
“before, while we were together— well, it doesn't really count as being ‘together’ but you know what i mean.” you pause again, chewing your lip. “did you ever… y'know. was there ever anybody else?”
hansol exhales, still hovering over you. “no. unless you count lotion and my hand, ‘cause there was a lot of that.” your eyes soften and you visibly relax at his words, and he mentally kicks himself for ever making you even think that was the case. that there would ever be anyone else for him but you. “i know i was stupid, but i'm not that stupid.”
“okay.” you pause again, trying to figure out how to get back on track. “sorry, i just wanted to know. i don't care.”
he scoffs, but his tone is more melancholy than angry. he shifts on top of you so he can rest on his elbows, getting closer and brushing his hand over your hair. “you should care. if i had, i would've given you full permission to lay into me, cuss me out, whatever. i would've deserved it. you don't deserve that.”
“i wanted to, trust me.” you sigh. “but you're too nice to me. i thought…” you chew on your lip, eyes searching his as you try to figure out what to say. “…i don't know what i was thinking.”
“i don't think i'm anywhere near ‘too nice’,” hansol laughs. the sincerity in his expression almost makes you feel better. “i'm the luckiest dude on the planet that you didn't decide to, like, slash the tires on my car and egg my house or something instead. i really wouldn't have blamed you if you did.”
“maybe i should then, next time,” you say, a smile creeping onto your face.
he shakes his head. “there won't be a next time.”
the room goes quiet and you stare at each other for a second, letting his words sink in. you can tell he's being lighthearted, but he's not even trying to hide the sincerity behind his words.
“you can… continue now,” you say after a tense moment, breaking the silence. the tension in the room is thick but it's not uncomfortable, slowly but surely melting into a lust that's deeper than any of the times you've been drunk and horny in his car.
he nods, and he reaches down to brush your hair back behind your ear before his hands slide down your body. he seems so hesitant to let go of you, but finally he lifts one hand to grip his cock and position himself at your entrance. he braces his other hand against your hip, shivering as he brushes the tip of his cock up through your folds. fuck, he's not gonna last.
after steeling his nerves as best he can and trying to convince himself not to bust the second he's inside you, he angles himself between your legs and starts to push in.
by some miracle he manages not to cum immediately, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to think about literally anything else but how fucking beautiful you are lying beneath him, but what actually happens instead might be worse.
hansol groans once he's fully inside, slowly splitting you open bit by bit until he bottoms out with his hips flush against yours. there are so many words on his tongue begging to spill out, but he can't think straight. holy shit, he can't even think about anything right now. why did he never say anything sooner? why did he waste so much time content with putting in the least amount of effort when he could've been having you like this all along?
“i love you,” he blurts out, and for a split second you think maybe this is all a dream and somehow you passed out at the show and hit your head so hard you started hallucinating this. but then his eyes widen and he winces in that way you've started to recognize, and you almost laugh because now you know it's real.
“shit, i don't know why i said that. i'm sorry. fuck, i'm sorry,” he groans and hangs his head, but despite his embarrassment you can still feel every inch of his dick twitching inside you and it feels way too good to ignore. “you don't have to say it back. i know it's way too soon—”
“did you mean it?”
“what?”
“did you mean it?” you repeat. his attention pulls back to you, a confused yet hopeful look in his eyes that makes your heart warm.
he clears his throat, obviously trying to hide the pink spreading across his cheeks. “yeah. i think i did. and not just because you have the best pussy ever.”
“are you sure? because that's what it sounds like to me,” you tease and try to roll your eyes, but his words make you clench involuntarily around him and he curses under his breath.
“fuck— yes, i’m very sure, i meant it and i'll keep saying it forever if you'll let me.” he lets out a groan, both hands now firmly planted on your waist. “but, god, please let me fuck you now. i'm trying so goddamn hard to hold back and i'll gladly go for another round later but i'm trying to make it up to you right now and it's gonna completely ruin it if i cum in, like, five seconds.”
you can't help your laughter in that moment so all you can do is nod, lifting your hips a little to try and get him going. and he takes the hint, pulling halfway out of you before slamming back in, a loud, deep string of groans leaving his lips.
his pace starts out frantic but he quickly calms himself down, stabilizing himself through his grip on your waist and pulling you to meet his thrusts. he snaps his hips into you at a smooth pace, his cock dragging against your walls with each stroke in a way that has you clawing at his wrists for support as he holds onto you.
hansol may be bad at relationships, but he's never been bad at sex. even on a good day it really doesn't take much to have you seeing stars, but this is different. this is desperate, determined, thankful, and hopeful all wrapped into one movement, sliding in and out of you with a passion you've only ever seen when he's playing guitar.
“ha— ngh— hansol!” despite your efforts to keep it steady, your voice still comes out broken, his name escaping your lips as easily as breathing. you roll your head back against the pillow, and you're suddenly even more grateful that you're at home in your bed instead of alone in a parking lot. this is so much better, better than you could've dreamed.
“fuck, you always take my cock so good,” hansol groans as he leans forward and buries his face in your chest. “i should’ve been telling you that every single time, how good you are. so fucking good.”
the way he fucks you is strangely tender, in a way you're not sure you've ever felt before. it's rough, but somehow in a gentle way. he's taking you apart piece by piece and putting you back together with his hands, his kisses, his touch. none of the times before have ever come close to this.
maybe it's the feeling of a mattress beneath your back instead of a hard plastic seat, or maybe it's the promises hanging in the air between you that makes this time feel brand new. maybe you're just too caught up in the moment to think straight, but for the first time it finally feels like a fresh start. this time is different.
“baby, please, one more for me,” he moans into your skin as his hips begin to grow weary, his breath hot against your chest. “‘m not gonna last much longer— fuck, cum for me one more time, baby. god, you're so perfect. please, let me make you cum.”
at this point he's rambling, almost as far gone as you are, but it's like he doesn't even need to ask. as soon as the words leave his mouth you feel the familiar sensation starting to build again, burning hotter and quicker than before. you almost start to panic because you can't even tell if you have another one left in you, but you look up and meet his eyes one last time and suddenly a wave of calm washes over you at the sight of his soft brown eyes filled with way more love than you're expecting to find there.
you don't even have time to tell him when it hits you one more time, you just grab him and hang on tight as your high tears through you. you struggle to lift your legs and wrap them around his back, pulling him in even closer to you as your walls flutter uncontrollably around him. he invades your senses and you can feel him everywhere, and you can only hope he feels the way you do.
but it's obvious that he does, because “ah, shit—” is the last thing you hear before he pulls out, barely managing to get back in time before he spills all over your stomach, your thighs, your pussy, the sheets. it's everywhere, and neither of you care. his hands are still on you gripping your waist tightly like he can't bear to let go, his cock pulsing limply as it rests against your stomach. rope after rope of thick white floods over your skin, and yet it's like he barely even notices because he's so busy repeating your name, praising you again and again in between swears and shaky moans.
you're panting, your hands shaking as you reach for him, but he's already right there. he's breathing heavily himself as he drops down on the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his head in the crook of your neck.
his weight half leaning against you is grounding, and eventually you feel your heart starting to return to normal as you become aware of the sticky puddle of sweat and cum that you're both laying in. but you just close your eyes and rest, focusing on his body warmth and his palm holding your side and the tickle of air coming from his nose as he breathes against you, and you realize nothing, no feeling in the world, has ever felt better than this.
when he reluctantly pulls himself away from your body to go look for a towel, you already know there's no question about whether or not he's staying over tonight.
once he's done cleaning you off he lifts you up into his arms, laughing and nuzzling his nose into your neck as he sets you down at your desk chair to start stripping the mess of sheets off your bed, and in that moment you can't help but think how lucky you are. he keeps saying that he's the lucky one for letting him have a second chance, but you're lucky in a lot of ways, too. lucky that it turned out he wasn't as much of an idiot as you’d thought. lucky that your heart wouldn't let you give up on him, no matter how hard you tried. lucky that after everything, hope still works sometimes.
after stumbling around your room, tossing blankets and sheets around and looking the happiest you've ever seen him, you're finally settled down together and you're back where you've always belonged, laying in his arms. it's so late that the sun is probably coming up soon and you're exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of a night, but you couldn't care less about what happens next because everything finally feels right.
hansol sighs, his arm curled a little awkwardly around your shoulders as he twirls a lock of your hair between his fingers. “can… we not do this anymore?” he asks finally.
his voice is quiet; not shy or uncertain, just quiet. it's different than what you're used to with him. usually when you're around him everything is loud, it's fast and messy and jumbled, a whirlwind of a night followed by heartache and a pounding headache in the morning. but now he's just… quiet. all the thoughts that normally rush through your head are gone, leaving nothing but silence.
you swallow, confused. although you've already talked out all your worries, you can't help the uncertain feeling that starts to return. “what do you mean? like, right now?”
he exhales like he's thinking, and his fingers pause in your hair. “like… i don't know. i want things to be good between us. whatever we were doing before— anything but that. no more not talking about stuff. no more tension. y'know? i promise.”
“mmm.” you hum, letting his words sink in for a while. you drum your fingers absently against his chest, almost trying to make sure he's still there. “yeah. i think… i think things are good between us now.” you giggle, leaning your head against his chest. “as long as you don't pull that shit again.”
he laughs, reaching up to grab your hand off his chest and hold it there. “oh, yeah, i know. you're way too good to me for even giving me another chance. i'm so sorry i almost fucked it all up.”
“you don't have to say that anymore.”
“well like i said, babe, i'm going to—”
“you can just keep saying ‘i love you’ instead.” you interrupt, squeezing his hand in yours.
he stops short in the middle of his sentence, caught in surprise, but as soon as your words register a grin slowly begins to make its way across his face. “cool. then… i love you.”
© junkissed 2024. do not repost or translate. ── ⊹ ˙ . 𖥻 want to be notified when i post new fics? join my taglist!
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The Law of Attraction (Lawyer!Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 1]
Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.
Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism] Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut
Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)
Chapter Word Count: 2.6k
Authors Note: I have this listed as "part one", because I may want to continue it in the future! This is just an idea that I've had floating around in my head, and I really haven't been inspired to write more of my other story lately, so why not put this out? If you'd like more of this story, please let me know and I can possibly continue it, if it's something y'all are interested in!
(It got another part)
Next Chapter
Series Masterlist
New York City is always bustling on a Monday morning. Crowds of people piling onto the sprawling connection of subway, buses and sidewalks on their way for another week of hard work. Jung Kook was among them, wearing a discounted, freshly pressed suit, and a fresh cup of Starbucks coffee in his hand. AirPods in his ear, he let the newest pop playlist cover up the sound of the crowded street on his way to his new office. There was a little, barely noticeable pep in his step, hinting at his excitement for his first day.
His office building was rather large, even by his own metrics. Coming from Seoul, Jung Kook was no stranger to towering buildings, but this fresh law office had something glistening about its structure. As he entered through the front rotating tour, scanning the pass in his lanyard to be let in, any seasoned attorney would quickly recognize the wide-eyed young man as an ambitious rookie.
“Jung Kook!” A voice called out from across the lobby. Jung Kook stopped walking and looked up, scanning the room to see Mr. Kim Namjoon, one of the best defense attorneys he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, greeting him with a dimpled smile.
“Good morning, Mr. Kim!” Jung Kook responded, quickly making his way over to greet him.
“Aish, Jung Kook. Call me Namjoon.” He smiled shyly. “We’ll be working together as partners, I won’t be just a mentor to you anymore. I want you to feel comfortable around me.”
“Right, of course.” Jung Kook grinned. “Thank you for bringing me here, I’m really excited.”
“That’s great to hear.” Namjoon’s voice was warm and sincere. “I wasn’t sure how’d willing you’d be to leave Korea, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah, it um…” Jung Kook pauses, thinking to himself for a moment for the right words to say. “It was a move that was for the best.”
Namjoon kept a smile on his face, but furrowed his brows just briefly as he read into the younger man’s explanation. Not wanting to press too much, he motioned Jung Kook to follow him to the elevator. They walked together with comfortable conversation, questions about Jung Kook’s move to the city and his commute. As the elevator took them high above the rest of the city, Jung Kook’s finger absentmindedly tapped on the coffee cup he held, jitters taking over.
“We had a case come in that I think you’ll be perfect to help me with.” Namjoon said, leading Jung Kook to his new office overlooking the city. There was an unorganized set of case files already on the desk. “You can put your stuff here, please make this space your own. The case is centering a Korean family, actually, so I thought maybe the two of us could connect with them on that level. Wealthy family, they’ve been doing business in the States a long time. But the son of the founder just recently inherited the company, and he’s being accused of defrauding investors. I need you to look over the case, and tell me what you think.”
Jung Kook nodded as he took his seat at his desk, opening up the file to read the defendant’s name, Park Jimin. The name sounded oddly familiar to him, but he brushed it aside as he read the details of the case.
“…Coaxed into investments using fraudulent and misleading data and projections…” Jung Kook read out loud, under his breath, before looking up at Namjoon. “So, he allegedly massaged the numbers into looking bigger than they are, leading to an increase of investments.”
“Hm.” Namjoon hummed, leaning against the door frame. “Then when the actual numbers came in, and they were nowhere close to what he had projected, he didn’t have the money to pay out. Now it’s our problem.”
“Yeah, ok.” Jung Kook nodded. “I have some ideas but I’d like to ask him some questions.”
“Perfect. I’ll give you his contact info, but he should be flying into the city tomorrow. He wants to meet with us anyways, he just needed a little time.”
“For what?”
“He recently got engaged.” Namjoon responded nonchalantly, scrolling through the contacts in his iPhone. “She comes from a wealthy family from Busan, apparently. Their fathers knew each other, since they’re both from the city..”
“Oh, they’re both from my city, I knew his name sounded familiar.” Jung Kook acknowledged. “Since her family is wealthy, maybe I’ve heard of them, too. What’s her name?”
“Aish, I can’t remember…” Namjoon thought for a moment. “Mr. Park mentioned her, and now my mind is blanking.”
The two startled when Namjoon’s phone rang. Namjoon apologized before stepping out to take the client’s call, leaving Jung Kook with his case files to further review. The rest of the day passed for the new, young lawyer, buried in a mountain of papers and taking notes. Namjoon peeked into his office on occasion to bring him coffee, or chat, or ask him about the case. But it was a slow, calm first day.
As was the next day, and the day after that. Jung Kook got into a routine as the weeks passed, feeling a growing sense of familiarity with the way that he was able to bury himself in his work. It was a nice way to briefly consume himself and chase away the loneliness of the last two years of his life.
He slowly made friends at his new firm. Never the extrovert, he was shy at first and afraid to open up. But knowing Namjoon for several years gave him a foot in the door, and allowed him an entry way into conversations that he wouldn’t have had otherwise. They asked about his life back home, and never dug too deep when he gave vague answers. He appreciated that, and his colleagues grew to like the handsome young lawyer.
Finally, on a Friday, as the week was winding down and Jung Kook was thinking of possible weekend plans, Namjoon quickly walked into his office after a brief warning knock to his door.
“We have a surprise meeting with Mr. Park.” Namjoon explained. “He just flew in from Seoul with his fiancé, and called me to say they want to meet with us. They’ll be here in a few minutes, so grab your notes and meet me in the conference room.”
Jung Kook’s eyes widened and he responded with a quick “ok”, before gathering up his collection of papers into a manila folder, and walking to meet Namjoon, stopping momentarily only to grab another quick cup of coffee to make sure he was alert. Being his first client meeting since joining the firm, he wanted to make sure he was at his best.
Settling into the conference room, Jung Kook looked over his notes, and made sure to have a pen to write down anything he may need later. He could see a light reflection of himself in the wall of windows facing the rest of the office, which he used to make sure his hair and suit looked presentable. He was hoping that with the money he made off of this case, he could buy a new, nicer suit like the one he saw in a shop window that he passed by not long ago.
His thoughts of a modest suit however were quieted by the presence of what he knew immediately to be his client walking down the office halls, nearing the conference room. Dressed in a luxurious, designer black suit and Louboutin loafers, Park Jimin was striking at first glance. He hid his eyes behind black sunglasses despite being indoors, and his dyed blonde hair complimented his glowing complexion and lush, pink lips. He looked expensive, the textbook definition of an heir.
The woman by his side looked gorgeous, Jung Kook thought. She was also beautifully dressed, in a sharp, maroon pencil dress and heels, with sunglasses also covering her eyes. Her Chanel bag dangled off her shoulder, her head was down, and her hand was intertwined with Mr. Park’s as they walked.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Park.” Namjoon greeted with a bow as he opened the door for the couple. “How was the flight in?”
“It was excellent, thank you. Please, call me Jimin.” Jimin responded, taking off his sunglasses, before turning his attention to Jung Kook. “Hello, I’m not sure we’ve met.”
“Jeon Jung Kook. I’ve just recently been added to look over the case.” Jung Kook smiled, standing up from his chair to bow. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Park Jimin.” Jimin introduced himself. “And this is my fiancé, Y/N.”
Y/N. Jung Kook repeated in his head, his eyes widening. It’s not possible.
You took off your glasses before bowing to Namjoon, and raised to meet Jung Kook’s eyes. Your expression matched his own, recognizing the man instantly.
“Jung Kook?” You smiled warmly. “Jeon Jung Kook? Oh my God, what a small world!”
“You two know each other?” Namjoon asked with a raised brow. He looked over at the young lawyer, who was staring at you with large eyes and parted lips.
“Jung Kook is an old classmate of mine.” You explained to Namjoon and your fiancé. “We went to the same university ages ago, when we were still living in Busan.”
This was Jung Kook’s worst nightmare unfolding right before his eyes. Here you were. You. Just as warm, beautiful, and personable as ever. Just as clueless as ever. It was amazing how you could be such an angel, but put him through so much pain, and not even know it.
“How have you been?” You asked with an innocent, bright grin. “I haven’t seen you in so long!”
“I-I’ve… been good.” Jung Kook stuttered, causing the other men in the room to look at him with growing suspicion.
“Honey, I don’t know that you’ve ever mentioned a Jung Kook.” Jimin said in a sweet tone directed at you, while his eyes judgmentally looked Jung Kook up and down. Namjoon nervously watched the interaction, waiting to bud in at any opportune time.
“We just had a couple classes together.” You explained. “Jung Kook, wasn’t it um…”
“History.” He finished your sentence, quicker and more deadpan in his tone than what he meant to. “And our political science class.”
“That’s right!” You nodded. “I remember you were always so smart, I guess it makes perfect sense you practice law now.”
“We’re happy to have him on the team.” Namjoon interjected, walking over to Jung Kook’s side of the table. He noted how Jimin still seemed unsure of Jung Kook’s mannerisms, and wanted to press on with the meeting. “Let’s get started, I’m sure the two of you have plans for the evening.”
Everyone took their seat, and Jung Kook stared at the blank notepad in front of him. He could feel Jimin’s eyes on him, but pretended not to be bothered. He scribbled down the date on the paper, desperate to not meet the client’s gaze.
“So, we reviewed the case.” Namjoon began, seeing how Jimin’s death stare didn’t shake from Jung Kook as he spoke. “We think that we have an excellent shot at winning, and to be completely honest, we’re expecting the judge to throw the case out.”
“That’s great news!” You said excitedly. “Honey, you’ve been so worried about this.”
Jimin looked at you, his eyes softening and a soft smile appearing. He rested a hand on your thigh, and looked over towards Namjoon.
“That is great news. Thank you, Mr. Kim.”
“Jung Kook has been reviewing the case for several days now, and he put together a couple arguments that we’ll present to the court, and have this ordeal finished, so you can move on.”
“Y-Yeah, so um…” Jung Kook started, the weight of everyone’s stare feeling heavy and thick in the air. He was careful to avoid your eyes in particular, sure that his reaction would be less than professional. “First of all, the numbers allegedly presented to investors were never your numbers, Mr. Park, they were the numbers that your father had supposedly projected. The suit is filed against you, not the company, so we can argue that you cannot be held personably liable for any losses. A-Also, there’s no um… There’s no physical evidence of these exact projections being shown that the plaintiffs presented so um… We could argue insufficient evidence.”
If Jung Kook were brave, he’d look up from his notes to see the way you grinned at him with the same, beautiful smile he used to see walking across campus every day. If he were brave, he’d tell you how beautiful that smile, and the rest of you, have always been to him.
If he were brave, he would’ve told you that a long time ago. But Jung Kook has never been brave. Not then, and definitely not now. Not when his client is shooting daggers at him from across the table, and a sparkling 24k gold and diamond on your finger reminds him of the thing he’s always known; you’re too good for someone like him. You deserve more.
“I think that sounds like an excellent plan.” Jimin said calmly, eyeing the young lawyer up and down, before turning his attention to you. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “I think Mr. Jeon has this whole thing figured out. What do you think, darling?”
“I agree.” You blushed at your fiancé’s uncharacteristic public affection. “He’s always been so smart.”
“It seems so.” Jimin responded. “In that case, I believe we can wrap up this check-in meeting. I’d like to take my love out to dinner tonight. It’s her first time in New York City.”
“Is it?” Namjoon’s voice was pleasant but quick as he spoke. “Well, let’s not keep you two waiting. Thank you for coming in, and we’ll be in touch. Please, Mr. Park, don’t be afraid to reach out to either of us if you need anything.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jimin said, getting up from his chair and helping you out of yours before bowing to the lawyers.
“Jung Kook, it was so nice to see you.” You said, waving at him while Jimin placed a hand on your back to lead you from the room. “Thank you for working on this for us.”
“O-Of course.” He bowed. “You two have a nice night.”
With that, Jimin led you away from the room and down the office, and Jung Kook watched as he took your hand in his and caressed your skin with his thumb. It amazed him how even after all this time, seeing you with another man makes his chest ache.
“So….” Namjoon’s irritable voice said, leaning against the table. “You want to tell me what the fuck that was about?”
“It’s nothing.” Jung Kook responded quietly, cleaning up his papers to avoid making eye contact. “Just an old classmate.”
“Nothing?” Namjoon asked with a scoff. “Our client just burned a hole through you with his glare the entire meeting, and you want to call that nothing?”
“I want to go home.” Jung Kook said with growing frustration. “I promise, it’s nothing. It’s just been a hard first few weeks, ok?”
Jung Kook was headed out the door quickly, when Namjoon grabbed his arm to make him stop for a moment.
“If something is going on with our client’s fiancé… if there’s a history there or whatever, you need to let me know so we can manage this. We can’t lose Jimin as a client, we’d both be out of a job. He brings in too much money.”
“What, does he get into this type of shit a lot or something?”
“What do you think?” Namjoon asks. “It’s part of the job, dealing with rich clients that have more money than sense. They didn’t teach you that in class? Or were you too busy ogling her?”
“It’s really nothing.” Jung Kook said, this time more calmly through gritted teeth. “I just need to go home.”
Namjoon sighed as Jung Kook left the room, and cursed his luck with the obvious situation under his breath.
#jungkook fluff#jungkook#jungkook imagine#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#bts#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#the law of attraction#lawyer!jungkook#jimin x reader#jimin x you#jimin x y/n#jimin fanfic#jimin fic
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Hi! I would be more than happy with a drabble about reader regaining a memory-maybe an important one for her and joel-but if this doesn't really inspire you, please don't feel obligated to write it, as I wouldn't want you to struggle because of me
After all, I'm more than happy to read anything else you decide to write!❤️
PS roommates is so so good, I'm looking forward to the next chapter!
Ahh thank you so much! I'm so glad you answered, I have no problem putting on my thinking cap for this! I think we could all use a little fluff today... I hope you enjoy! And thank you again for all your support the past year ❤️
three words
An I Know Who You Are drabble
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: You remember another memory, this one more special than the rest.
Warnings: fluff, implied smut, amnesia
WC: 1.2K
"It's getting late," you mumbled, your eyes closed as you breathed deeply into Joel's chest. The very last thing you wanted to do was get dressed and go home, but you had patrol early in the morning and you didn't trust yourself to wake up early enough to go home and clean up beforehand.
You felt his chest vibrate as he hummed, his hand dragging lazily up and down your bare back, holding you close and just as unwilling to let you go.
"Stay."
You groaned but buried your face deeper, now angling it towards his flushed neck. "I don't have any clothes here."
"Then maybe you should keep some clothes here."
"I could, but that doesn't help me now."
Joel sighed and turned onto his side, tugging you into him, molding you to him and filling every crack and splinter the world left before you. "Wear my clothes."
You laughed softly, the image of Joel's flannel hanging five inches past your fingertips as you struggled to ride in his oversized clothes just too amusing.
"As much as I appreciate the offer," you began as you pulled away, meeting some resistance from his arms, "I don't think that would work."
He groaned and rolled onto his back, the longing evident in his eyes as you slowly stood and stretched, your naked body pulling and bending before seeking out your clothes strewn about his room.
"Move in with me."
You stood abruptly, your jeans and socks tucked protectively against your chest as you stared back at him in shock.
"What?"
He sat up in bed and flicked on his lamp. "Move in with me," he repeated. Your eyes trailed down his broad chest, evidence of the love bites you left on him a mere hour earlier already darkening.
"Oh-" you croaked, feeling your face flare with heat. To hide it, you looked back down at the ground to find the rest of your clothes. "Uh, don't you think that's a little fast?"
"No," he answered, watching as you struggled to pull your underwear back on. "I love you 'n I want you here all the time."
You were in the process of pulling your bra strap over your shoulder when his words reached your ears, knocking into you so hard you forgot to breathe. "W-what did you just say?" you whispered, hand frozen on your shoulder, eyes wide and filled with bewilderment.
He shrugged one shoulder and gave you a little smirk. "I love you."
Your lower lip trembled and you dropped your jeans to the floor. "I love you, too," you said softly.
His eyes lit up and his smile grew wider. "Then quit standin' over there 'n get back in bed with me."
You giggled and hastily swiped away a tear that fell before scrambling back into bed, allowing him to tug the comforter over you as you wrapped your arms around his middle. He cupped your jaw and scanned your face once more before pressing a tender kiss to your lips, so soft and sweet that it stole your breath.
"Maybe I'll just end up being sick tomorrow morning," you murmured against his mouth, dragging your lips down his throat and nipping playfully at his Adam's apple. He rolled on top of you, holding himself up on his elbows. He closed his eyes and sighed, reveling in the feel of your skin pressed against his.
"Yeah, that -" he paused and gasped when you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, grinding into him as your kisses on his neck grew feverish. "That sounds 'bout right."
-
You awoke with a start, eyes flashing wide open as you stared at the white ceiling, replaying the dream over and over in your mind. Was it a dream? Or was it real? It felt real. You were getting better at distinguishing between the two now.
Rolling your head to the side, you smiled when you saw Joel sleeping so peacefully beside you. His lips were parted and he was snoring softly, looking perfectly content. You almost didn't want to wake him, but you knew it would be worth it.
"Joel," you whispered, pulling the sheet against your neck. You rolled onto your side and ran your palm across the sharp planes of his chest. He mumbled in his sleep and his hand slowly came up to engulf yours, his fingers big and thick and calloused compared to your own. You repeated his name a little louder this time and he finally cracked one eye open.
"Mornin'," he said, voice gravelly and thick with sleep. Every time you heard it, it made your lower abdomen pull and a familiar warmth spread between your thighs.
"I had a dream," you told him, excitement bubbling up as you bit down on your lower lip. His eyes opened wider and suddenly he looked much more alert.
"A dream or a memory?"
"Memory, I think."
He grinned and sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What was it?"
You stretched, a slow smile spreading across your face as you looked up at him. "I think it was when we first said I love you."
He grinned and scratched his chin. "That's a good one."
"I was getting ready to go back home because I had patrol in the morning," you began, and he nodded along. "You told me you wanted me to move in because you loved me. You said it so casually, like it was obvious or something."
"Thought it was obvious," he chuckled.
"It felt like I already knew but I was still surprised to hear you say it."
He gazed down at you warmly. "Then you said it back."
"Yeah," you whispered, threading your fingers with his. "I said it back."
"That was a good day," he told you before leaning forward, gently brushing your lips together.
"So it was real?"
"Yeah," he whispered, then slowly slanted his mouth against yours, his lips leisurely massaging your lips like he had all the time in the world. You took a deep breath and wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close.
It had been a while since you had a memory come back, but it felt like each time it happened, no matter how big or small, it felt clearer.
"Do you think this means I'll remember everything one day?" you couldn't help but ask as he settled between your legs, his mouth dragging down your chin.
"Don't know, baby," he admitted, his focus clearly shifting towards something else as his hands began to push up the material of your sleep shirt.
Your heart fluttered in your chest as you anxiously chewed the inside of your cheek. "If I don't, that would be okay, right?" you asked, your voice coming out so timid and small that it made him stop in his tracks. He pushed himself up onto his forearms so he could look you in the eye.
"'Course it would."
You nodded and felt a sliver of relief, but he could tell you still held some doubt.
"Hey," he said gently, "it don't matter if you remember everythin'. 'Cause we'll make new memories together, alright?"
You smiled and he watched you visibly relax, your shoulders dropping back and your brow smoothing out. "Yeah."
He grinned and pecked your lips before picking up where he left off on the crook of your neck.
"Good. 'Cause I wanna make a new memory right now."
#ask#anon ask#ikwya fic#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#joel x reader#joel tlou#joel miller x you#the last of us#the last of us fic#the last of us game#fic request
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Meet Me At The Mistletoe - Quinn Hughes x ofc
Video from @fallinallincurls
Title: Meet Me at the Mistletoe
Author: Tory / @tkwrites
Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts
Summary: Based on the song of the same name by Dave Barnes, Quinn and Sarah prepare for and host a team Christmas Party, including shopping on a very special but inconvenient day.
Warnings: Grief. Talk of dead parents and honoring traditions. Some sex is alluded to, but nothing described. A tiny bit of praise kink stroking.
Word Count: 8,000
Comments: I'm back with my first ever Christmas fic! I’ve been waiting to write a song based on Meet Me at the Mistletoe by Dave Barnes since I first heard it three or four years ago. It has such a great story and evokes a specific feeling I felt like Quinn and Sarah were especially suited for. When Cici from @thedevilrisen reached out to me about joining a Christmas fic event called Ho Ho Hockey, I knew this had to be the story I wrote for it.
If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. Sending all the love your way!
Meet Me at the Mistletoe
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot
“Will you help me plan a Christmas party?” Quinn blurted, trying to catch his breath.
“Hu?” Sarah asked, struggling to keep up with the abrupt change of subject.
Upon getting home from work, she’d practically jumped him in the kitchen. They’d made it as far as the lucky couch before desire consumed them both. He’d been on a roadie for the past few days, and though he got back the evening before, she’d been asleep when he arrived, so they weren’t able to welcome each other home properly.
Now, she lay beside him, wedged between the back of the couch - cushions had been tossed aside in their frenzy - and his body, feeling sated and satisfied as her head rested on his chest.
“I have to plan a Christmas party for the team,” he explained, knowing he couldn’t put it off anymore. Even though they still had a few months, he knew she would appreciate the advanced warning and that it would only make it easier if they started now.
“Why do you have to do it? I’d think that would be something the coaching staff would do.”
“It’s for players only. We have another one with coaches and staff. It's kind of tradition for the captain to plan it.”
Her lips pressed together, “I don’t know how much time I can dedicate to party planning in December. That’ll be right around finals.” She didn’t have as many traditional classes this semester, but there was still plenty to do.
“That’s why I’m bringing it up now, and it doesn’t have to be huge,” he rushed to explain. “Last year, JT and Natalie just had people over for drinks, and we did a gift exchange.”
“You want to have it here?”
“I thought it would be nice.” Now that Sarah was here, the apartment felt more homey and like the kind of place he wanted to show off.
“So cocktails and gifts?”
“Yeah, or whatever we want it to be. I think they had some food last year.”
“Okay,” she said.
“So you can help me?” Quinn asked.
“Yeah. I don’t know that I’ll have time to go to tastings or anything like that.”
“Tastings?”
“For food?”
He laughed, “I figured we’d just order from De Beppe and set up a cocktail bar.”
“Oh,” it seemed like he didn’t even need her help. “That sounds nice and easy.”
His hand snuck down to cradle the curve of her bottom, “you know I don’t like to make things overly complicated.”
“It’s just for adults?” she confirmed.
“It was last year,” he said. “Why? Do you want kids to come?”
She shrugged, “not necessarily. Just if they do, we’ll need to host it somewhere else. Our house isn’t really kid proofed.”
When he didn’t respond, she glanced up to find him looking at her with a goofy smile on his face.
“What?”
“You said our house.”
“Hu?”
“You said our house,” he repeated. “Before you’ve always said your house,” he pointed to himself, “or the house.”
“Oh.”
Slipping his arms around her waist, he pulled her a little tighter against him, loving the feel of her soft curls as they crushed against his hip. “I’m just glad you’re feeling more at home.”
A pocket of calm silence enveloped them.
“We’ll need to decorate,” Sarah said after a few minutes.
Quinn agreed. When he thought about hosting the party, the house was always decorated for Christmas, but he’d never thought about what it would take to get it into that state.
“We can figure that out later,” she murmured, laying her head back on his chest, allowing his steady heartbeat to lull her into the state of calm that always came over her when he was home.
They spent another hour there, snuggled up together, only moving when Quinn went fishing for a blanket and had to lean halfway off the couch to get it.
They didn’t get up until Sarah’s stomach grumbled loudly.
“Did you eat today?” Quinn asked, his tone accusing.
“I had a smoothie for breakfast.”
“Sarah,” he admonished. She never ate as well when he wasn’t home. Not just in quality, in quantity.
“I know,” she said, looking down sheepishly. “I even had a salad in the fridge at work, I just got so caught up in stuff. I did eat a protein bar on my way home,” she remembered.
Deciding he’d tackle the issue of her nutrition later, Quinn traced his fingers up the curve of her spine. “What should we have for dinner tonight?” he asked as he mentally prepared himself for the inevitable exit from their cozy cocoon.
She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “I don’t care. Just feed me.”
He laughed. “You got it,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Why don’t you go get changed, and I’ll scrounge up something for us to eat.”
Are you free November 9th?
When Quinn sent this message, she didn’t think anything of it. They were both so busy that it was normal to schedule things three weeks in advance.
Yep, what's up that day?
Just wanna take you on a date before the game.
The purposeful vagueness and his wanting to do something on a game day raised her eyebrows. Game days were usually reserved for napping and chill time at home before he had to go to the rink.
Okay. It's in my calendar.
He hearted the message, and Sarah went back to work.
Pick you up at 11 out front, okay?
Though it was a Saturday, and she was off, Quinn knew Sarah would be working on her thesis and he needed to catch her before she got too absorbed by it, no longer concerned with looking at her phone.
For what?
We have a date, remember?
Oh, right. She’d mostly forgotten about the whole exchange, despite looking in her planner that morning and finding (heart) Date (heart) written in the sparkly blue ink she used to denote all things Quinn related.
What should I wear?
Usually, when he called something a date, it meant dinner out, but this was the middle of the day, and she knew it wouldn’t last terribly long.
Whatever - jeans are fine.
Now, she was really intrigued. Okay. See you then.
Wondering what on earth he had planned in the middle of the day on a Saturday, on a Saturday game day, no less, Sarah went back to her studies. It was hard to focus, though. Quinn was definitely up to something. They were even playing the Oilers that evening. Something fishy was definitely going on.
All the same, at 10:30, she changed out of her pajamas, pulled half of her hair up, and put on some makeup before walking down to the lobby.
Quinn was right on time, parked right in front of the front door.
“Thanks, Reece,” she said as he held the door open for her.
“Have a good day, Ms. Roberts,” he said with a nod.
She slid into the seat of Quinn’s posh new car. She’d learned by now that most players leased a new car at the beginning of every season. Instead of the Jeep, Quinn now had a sleek and luxurious new Porsche SUV. Most of her hated that it was so expensive when there were perfectly good, reliable options that were half the price. Each time she got in it, though, she had to admit: it was extremely comfortable, and the features really were something else. She found a small measure of comfort that at least it wasn’t some ridiculous sports car.
“So, where are we headed?” she asked as he pulled back into traffic.
“You’ll see,” he said with a little smile as he reached across the console for her hand.
Although he had a destination programmed into the car's GPS, she wasn’t entirely sure how the thing worked and didn’t want to accidentally get them off course by fiddling with it.
They went out of the city, which surprised her. He was bothering to take her to Richmond when they had to get back in time for the game? Not that the 30 minute drive was outrageous, but it seemed a luxury to her when they didn’t have all that much time to begin with.
“We needed to come all the way out to Richmond to go to Costco?”
“It’s the second Saturday of the month,” he said quietly, “and this one's bigger than the one by home. I’m sorry we couldn’t go tonight.”
“Oh,” her breath hitched as his intention settled on her. She’d stopped mentally marking second Saturdays about a year after her dad died, so she hadn’t even known.
The hiss of his seatbelt retracting brought Sarah out of her daze, and she reached for him before he could get out of the car.
“Thank you,” she said, feeling both a swell of gratitude as well as a tightening in her chest.
He beamed, glad he’d pulled it off. “I’ve been trying to get here, but you were so busy with the start of the semester, and then I was out of town…” he trailed off.
“This is really sweet, Quinn.” Holding his chin, she leaned over the center console to press her lips to his.
He’d wanted to set up this date since she’d told him about her family’s monthly Costco adventures. “Ready?” he asked, nodding toward the store.
She took a deep breath, letting it sigh out before nodding, “yeah.”
When she rounded the car and he took her hand, she tried to blink the tears from her eyes.
“I haven’t been back here,” she said quietly, wanting to explain, just in case she burst into tears. That hadn’t happened for a while, but she could never quite rule it out, especially now that the ache of doing this with him, but without her dad, was freshly torn open. That, mixed with the gratitude she felt at his want to do this for her, especially on a game day, brought up a swirl of so many emotions. Quinn was so incredibly thoughtful.
He stopped in his tracks, “is this your first time back since your dad died?” he asked.
“No, I went with mom whenever she or I was visiting, and we all go whenever I’m in town,” she said, “I just don’t think I’ve been without my siblings since she died.”
“Are you okay? We don’t have to go.” He was such an idiot. He should have asked her about it instead of just springing this on her.
“No, I want to go,” she assured, giving his hand a squeeze. “It just makes me a little nostalgic, that’s all.”
Before they got to the doors. She tugged him back, “this is really thoughtful, Q.” Why hadn’t she said it before? “Thank you. I feel really cared for.”
The big, genuine smile that took over his face made her heart swell.
“So what are we looking for?” she asked, grabbing a cart and following him inside.
“I kind of thought…” he trailed off, lifting the cap off his head, trying to smooth his hair down. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a mother turn her pointing little girl away.
“Hm?”
“I thought we could get some Christmas decorations. Like, obviously, we need a tree, but I didn’t know if you wanted a real one, or…” he trailed off.
“Isn’t it a little early to be decorating for Christmas? I figured you were a strictly after Thanksgiving kinda guy.”
He laughed, “I mean, I am, but this was the only second Saturday I’m in town before January, so I figured we could shop and then decorate later.”
A smile beamed over her face, and a sigh unknotted some of the anxiety coiling in his chest. They’d talked, well argued, a little about Christmas. He wanted her to come to Michigan with his family, but it was her siblings' year to be together, so she wanted them to go to Nevada. He was just about ready to fly everyone to Vancouver. It was their first Christmas together. He didn’t want to spend it apart, but he didn’t want either of them to miss out on time with their families.
“I’ve never had a real tree,” she mused.
“Really?”
“My mom always said she hated the mess.” She paused for a moment, remembering, “well, I guess that’s not quite true. Trav and Trev had a real tree the year I lived with them, but it wasn't really my thing. I went back to Nevada in mid-December, so I didn’t help decorate or anything.”
“Okay, so we’ll get a real tree,” he agreed, glad to have that sorted. “You should get to experience it at least once.”
“Okay,” she agreed, a light coming into her face he usually associated with her while she was talking about her research.
The smile Quinn gave her in response - large and happy and indulgent - made her stomach flutter.
“What do you think the theme should be?” she asked.
“Hu?”
“The theme,” she repeated, “like red, or blue or, like, snow?”
“I don’t…know?”
“Is there anything you really like?”
“I hate the flocking,” he said.
“Not what I asked, but still helpful,” she said with a cheeky smile and a wink.
Quinn felt himself blush. “I don’t know…I feel like I’m bad at this kind of stuff.”
“What kind of stuff,” she asked, guiding them to the decor aisles.
“Decorating and stuff.”
She pshawed, waving her hand, “my mom always said if you like what you come up with, design is never bad. It might not be someone else's taste or style, but it’s not their house.”
Right, her mom was an interior designer.
“What do you like?” he asked, stopping to look at a display of dancing elves. They were sort of horrifyingly kitschy, but he couldn’t look away.
“I like classic things. Like red and green, or blue and white. Or, one year, my mom did this really pretty floral design. That doesn’t really match our vibe, though.”
“Did she design a new tree every year?”
“Sometimes. It all depended on what set her off. She’d sometimes find something like a tartan ribbon, and she’d spin a whole design off of that. We had another little tree in our basement that all of our homemade ornaments went on. We always put presents under that one.”
“Do you want two?”
“Trees?”
“Yeah, one upstairs and one downstairs.”
“Do you?”
He shrugged. “We could put one by the lucky couch.”
The lucky couch being the suede couch. She’d jokingly called it that after their escapades when the Canucks clinched into the playoffs, “I feel like all I do on this couch is get lucky,” and the name had stuck.
“Do you want that?” she asked now, looking at him seriously.
Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine what that would be like. Ultimately, he shrugged, “wouldn’t hurt.”
She laughed a little. “How about we sort the theme first?”
He nodded, glad that she had some kind of a plan.
“Why don’t we split up for a minute? We’ll each find a few things we like, and hopefully, a theme will come out of that.” It was something her mom often did when working with clients. It brought out shared styles.
“Okay.”
Sarah wandered off with the cart, heart so full she felt like it might just push into her mouth.
After five minutes, when Quinn didn't come back, she went looking for him. She found him on one of the fringe aisles, locked in a conversation with a star struck fan.
He glanced up when she rounded the corner.
When it became obvious that the person currently holding his attention wouldn't let up anytime soon, he waited for them to finish their thought about the upcoming game and then started to excuse himself. “It was nice talking with you, but I need to be going.”
“Oh,” the guy seemed to remember they were standing in Costco, “of course. Thanks for chatting, man.”
They shook hands, and Quinn stepped around him to join up with Sarah.
“Did you find anything, or did you immediately get bombarded?”
The smile he sent her way was indulgent. “I got a bit of a look.” Taking the other end of the cart, he pulled her down one of the decor aisles and pointed out some different shaped gold glass ornaments.
“I liked those, too, but I liked the silver better.”
“We could get both,” Quinn suggested, lifting a box of each color into the cart.
“You want to go metallic?”
One side of his mouth twisted.
“So, no,” Sarah laughed. “What do you think instead?”
“I don’t know. I just think only metallic is kind of weird.”
“Okay,” Sarah turned to another section of baubles and started putting them between the silver and gold.
They discussed the combinations but couldn’t agree on what colors looked better together.
“Why don’t we just do two trees,” Quinn suggested after having the same circular conversation twice.
Sarah agreed, glad he brought it up again.
“Do you want two live ones?”
“I think we should get one fake one. I’m already a little worried I’m going to forget to water the one.”
“Do we have to water it?”
“I’d imagine so. It’s a living plant, isn’t it?”
He’d never thought about it. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Didn’t you have real trees growing up?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, before sheepishly adding on, “but my mom did all of that.”
Just as he expected, Sarah snorted. “I can’t believe your dad made your mom take care of something for a holiday she doesn’t even celebrate.”
“She celebrated Christmas,” Quinn argued. “It’s not like she was against it or something.”
“It’s the principle of the thing.”
He smiled indulgently at her.
They spent another hour wandering around Costco, deciding what to buy. Sarah tried not to wince at the price when it totaled on the checking screen. It was their first year, after all. These things would always be basics they could use over and over again.
After loading it in the back of his car and starting for home, Sarah spoke again. “Quinn?”
He glanced at her, worry etched onto his face.
“I just wanted to say thank you again,” she assured, reaching for his hand. “This was so thoughtful and kind.”
A smile spread over his face, “you don’t need to thank me, Sarah. “I like when I can do something special for you.”
It wasn’t a strange thing to her anymore, to be with such a caring partner, who not only remembered things about her, but put them to use. Just the other day, he’d brought a set of playing cards home from Seattle after she mentioned wanting to use some different ones in her research with Walter.
Quinn let her pull his hand into her lap, glad that he’d pulled this off and that she’d enjoyed it so much.
When the day of the party arrived, Sarah was feeling remarkably calm.
While they were planning, she felt the weight of hosting the team as the Captain’s girlfriend like a physical thing she had to uphold. Not only did she want everyone to have a good time, she felt it was partially her responsibility to represent Quinn well. Not that he couldn’t do that on his own. He could. It just felt like another mantle she had to uphold and worried she would somehow fail or let him down.
After sharing these fears with her therapist, she helped her to remember that while her fears were understandable, there wasn’t really any basis for them. She’d already spent time with the team with the title of the captain’s girlfriend. The only difference now, as Jenny pointed out, was that she and Quinn were living together. “Which,” Jenny told her, “really only solidifies your relationship. If the team had any issues with Quinn dating you, they would have brought them up a long time ago.”
Now, as she got ready, hosting their first party together felt like a cementing step in their relationship. It felt a bit like something out of a fairy tale.
Pulling at the skirt of her dress until it fell the way it was meant to, she smoothed her hands over her hips as she smiled. It’d been a ridiculously long process to find the right dress, but now that she was on the other side of it, the final result was well worth work.
After going shopping with Bella and Katelyn, she came home empty handed. Everything they'd found was too…much. Too frilly, or too plain. Nothing fit correctly, or it didn’t cover what she wanted covered or didn’t flatter her body. She didn’t even have an image in her head of what she wanted to wear (she rarely did), but nothing they found felt right.
She’d be lying if she didn’t acknowledge that dress hunting had, at least partially, been so hard because she felt more than a little frumpy and even a little bit fat standing next to both beautiful women. Not that either of them did anything to make her feel that way. They were kind and nice, and two of her best friends among the wives and girlfriends. Still, anytime she tried on a dress, on top of it not being right, when she stood next to them, her eyes were automatically drawn to her hips and stomach, which were so much rounder than either of theirs.
Generally, body image didn’t bother her - she knew she was attractive and knew Quinn found her attractive. Even knowing that, she had a hard time turning off that comparison part of her brain when seeing herself reflected back next to the two thin women she was with.
So, while both of them walked away with beautiful party dresses, Katelyn in a short, delicately sewn green frock, and Bella in a sparkly blue sweeping number, Sarah was forced to go hunting for the perfect dress online. Knowing she was running out of time, she bought fourteen, figuring she would return what she didn’t like.
Of course, it was the last one - which arrived only a week before the party - that finally sang to her. Even Quinn commented on it when he saw it hanging in the closet, telling her, “I like this one.”
“Yeah?”
He’d nodded, offered her a cheeky smile as he said, “I can't wait to see what it looks like on you.”
At the time, she’d laughed and shaken her head, but with the way he was looking at her now, she knew he hadn’t been lying.
“Wow,” Quinn said, eyes scanning up and down her body when Sarah walked out of the walk-in closet.
The sparkly fabric cradled her curves as if it had been made for her. He especially liked the way it just barely cupped her ass before billowing down to the floor. He’d never seen her in something so fancy - they’d never had the occasion to dress up like this.
Thoughts of past prom and formal dates skipped through his mind, and he decided she was the prettiest date he’d ever had. Especially with the way the dark red color turned her eyes a stormy blue.
She gave him a teasing, little smile, “you like it?”
Scoffing, he gave up fighting the impulse to grasp her hips. The fabric was smooth and surprisingly soft under his palms. He’d expected the tinsel-y shine to be scratchy. Whoever made it knew what they were doing.
“I don’t know how I’m going to keep my hands off you all night,” he said as his eyes drank in her figure one more time.
Slipping her arms around his neck, she gave him a seductive smile and a wink, “lucky for you, I think we could arrange for you to take me home tonight.”
“Really?” he teased, one hand sliding around to cradle that curve of her butt he’d been admiring earlier.
“Play your cards right, and I think you just might.”
“I might have to corner you under the mistletoe before then.”
“I thought you hated mistletoe,” she said, rolling her eyes. He'd been mildly horrified when he found she'd hung two sprigs of it in the apartment – one in the front hall and one in the doorway to the kitchen.
“I don’t know that I’d hate it with you,” he said, voice soft as he caressed her hips again. “I hated when people would try to corral me under it with some girl they wanted me to date,” he explained. “If it means I get to kiss you, I’m going to take advantage every time I can.”
Thinking of past Christmases and failed mistletoe attempts, Quinn was so struck by her. His life from a year ago had been turned totally upside down. All in good ways, but it was still startling to glance back at how lonely he was last Christmas in comparison to the joy, love, and contentment he felt this year.
“You’re going to be the prettiest girl here,” he said, unable to stop himself from looking her over again.
Though she smiled, she snorted and rolled her eyes.
“You will be,” he insisted, pulling her against him. He couldn’t fight not touching her more.
Deciding she was too tired to push back against his compliments, Sarah leaned in to press her lips to his. With her heels on, he was just an inch taller than she was. Kissing Quinn was never difficult, but she did enjoy the easier access their closer heights allowed for.
He mumbled a noise, his other hand coming up to cup the back of her head to intensify the kiss.
As she broke away, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “are you not wearing any underwear?”
Her eyes fluttered open. “What?” she asked, a laugh splitting her mouth into a natural, pretty smile.
“I can’t feel anything,” he explained, running his palm over her bum again.
“Strictly speaking? No.”
His eyes grew round with shock.
“But I have shape wear on, so it’s kind of worse. Harder to get off.”
An almost relieved smile crossed his face.
“Why?”
“I just…I was gonna have a real hard time tonight if you weren’t wearing anything under this dress,” he admitted as his palm slid up the curve of her body.
“I don’t think I could face a party with your teammates without any underwear on.”
“Too bad,” he tsked, “then I really wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you all night.”
“Be a good boy,” she admonished, moving his fingers from where they were sneaking under the straps.
Licking his lips, Quinn looked into her face, his expression eager.
She held his gaze, letting the tension build between them.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, vibrating against her leg. He didn’t look away.
“That’ll be the food,” she said, breaking the spell. “You better go grab it.”
“Yeah.” Shaking his head gently, Quinn reminded himself they were heading into a party and now was not the time for him to start fantasizing. “I’ll be right back.”
“Those pants still look super hot on you!” she called, following him.
A few weeks before, she’d first told him she liked them by sending him a Canucks Instagram story that showed him walking through the arena parking garage, along with the message, got me drooling over your thighs in this suit. The gray fabric was cut close, making his legs look deliciously thick and muscled.
His laughter echoed off the windows as he jogged down the stairs. “I’m wearing them just for you!” he called back before the front door shut.
Making her way down to the kitchen, Sarah surveyed the apartment on the way. They had decided to put the second tree next to the lucky couch, which only served to make the spot more romantic. Since it’d gone up, they’d spent at least one night a week curled up together reading by it’s light. It was decorated in silver and green, while the larger, fresh tree was decorated in classic red and gold, including some geometric diamonds her mom used in their last family tree. Sarah had asked her sister, Rachel, if she could send them to her. It was nice, having that little part of her mom in the house at a time they both loved so much, nice to see pieces of Quinn mixed in with everything.
Other than the trees, there were no other holiday decorations besides a Christmas Village that had belonged to her dad, which was set up on the sideboard in the living room.
An hour later, almost everyone was there, dressed in their holiday finery.
Quinn had an incredibly soft, dark green cashmere sweater on over top of a white dress shirt. He’d almost worn the bomb cufflinks Sarah had given him, but at the last minute, he decided it would be more practical if he rolled his sleeves up.
The way Sarah’s eyes lingered on his forearms when he had told him he made the right choice.
Sarah had insisted the men needed to wear slacks, “if the women are putting on dresses, it’s the least you can do. No dude gets to show up in jeans when women have to wear shape wear.”
He said he saw her point and dropped the bad news on the boys the following day.
“Oh my God!” Bella gushed, walking into the house. “It looks gorgeous in here!”
“Thank you. It was really fun to decorate together for the first time.”
“Huggy helped with this?” Brock asked dubiously, walking up and slipping an arm around Bella’s waist. Sarah swore they both could wear head to toe hunting orange and still be the most beautiful couple she’d ever seen. Seeing them dressed for the season was like looking into a catalog, two perfect people in exactly the perfect clothes, matched to perfection. If they stood by the tree, she was pretty sure she could submit the picture to any department store in the world, and they’d put them in an ad without question. It was quite stunning, really.
“He did,” Sarah said, beaming. “We decided on the theme together and got decorations, and we put up the trees before you guys left over Thanksgiving.”
“Brock never helps with stuff like that,” Bella teased.
“I offered!” Brock corrected. “She said she doesn't trust my taste,” he told Sarah conspiratorially before dropping a kiss to Bella’s cheek and announcing, “I’m going to get us drinks.”
“Oh my god,” Bella exclaimed once he was gone, “where did you find this dress? It’s, like, perfect!”
“Its from this Australian company called Blackmilk. It was the last one to arrive,” Sarah said with a roll of her eyes, “of course.”
“Well, it was worth the wait. You look killer. Your ass looks insane.”
Sarah laughed, “the spanx have a lot to do with that.”
Bella shook her head, “no. You have a great ass. I wish I had curves like yours.”
Glancing down at herself, then at Bella’s petite frame, Sarah wondered who it served for women to be pitted against each other this way. The beauty industry, probably. Whoever invented spanx.
“That's sweet, thank you.”
Bella hooked her arm through Sarah's and demanded a tour of the apartment with everything decorated.
Watching from across the living room as Sarah opened the door, looking comfortable and every part the hostess, Quinn smiled, glad to see her feeling so at home.
He was only a little surprised to see the Millers on the other side of the door. He’d invited them, but didn’t hear anything back.
“I’m so glad you could make it!” Sarah gushed, accepting the box of chocolates Natalie offered, before wrapping her in a hug.
There had been some debate whether or not the Millers would be able to attend - it was their first team function in quite a while - but Sarah was extremely glad they were here. It wouldn’t feel like a team party without them.
“Come in, come in. We have cocktails and mocktails and lots of food,” she said, turning to embrace JT.
He smiled, uncharacteristically quiet.
Natalie stayed by Sarah’s side as he wandered into the party, getting progressively louder as he bro-hugged and took some ribbing from his teammates, jibing them in turn as if no time had passed. “Thank you for not making a big deal of this,” she said.
Sarah shrugged, “I’m just glad you’re here.”
The other woman gave her a watery smile, and Sarah took her arm to pull her into the house, “what can I get you to drink?”
The one thing Quinn hadn’t counted on when planning this party was how much he’d be separated from her. When they attended parties in the past, they were often together, or at least not apart for long. Now, with the role of hosts, they had people to talk to and drinks to refresh, and it felt like everything was pulling them away from each other, rather than closer together.
As the night went on, even though they were still separated, Quinn found he always seemed to know where Sarah was. Not just from her laugh, which he did hear in abundance, or from glimpsing light glinting off her sparkly dress, which occasionally flashed in the corners of his vision. No, it was that same magnetic force that pulled him to her the first time he saw her, still in full effect.
He was talking with Conor when he felt that longing hook in his navel, nudging him in her direction.
When he looked up, however, he couldn’t see her. It only took a moment for her to reappear, walking from the kitchen, smiling at something Meghan was showing her on her phone. Probably photos of Quint, he guessed. She had a new bottle of Perrier in one hand and a bowl of ice in the other.
As if sensing his gaze, she glanced up.
She winked, and a ridiculous, cheesy smile took over his whole face.
Once their eyes met, their connection followed suit, snapping into alignment as they held each other's gaze. He was on the other side of the apartment, in the living room, but for a brief moment, it seemed everyone else fell away and they were alone in the house again.
They’d taken pictures in front of the Christmas tree at the beginning of the night as soon as Elias and Katelyn had arrived and could hold the camera. Sarah wanted to send them to her family. He’d smiled when the photo had popped up in the chat she had with his family. His mom had almost immediately hearted the photo and gushed over how beautiful Sarah looked in her dress.
You look nice too, Quinn, Luke had quipped.
That had been the last time he had his hands on her, and watching her chat with Meghan as she tipped fresh ice into the metal bucket, he was itching to touch her again.
“So, what did you think of that video session today?” Conor asked.
“Hu?” Quinn murmured, unable to tear his eyes from Sarah as she started to laugh.
Conor followed his sightline. “Oh god, you’re hopeless,” he murmured. “Go get your fix, then come talk to me,” he said, tone only half joking as he pushed Quinn’s shoulder in the direction of the kitchen.
“Can I borrow her for a minute?” Quinn asked, throwing a smile in Meghan's direction as he walked up to them.
Not waiting for an answer, he took the bowl from Sarah's hand, setting it on the bar cart and leading her back in the direction of the kitchen by a loose grip on her upper arm.
“Quinn, what's wrong?” she asked, glancing back to make sure Meghan didn't feel abandoned. Thankfully, Natalie had taken her place in the conversation.
“Nothing wrong,” he said, stopping to lean in the kitchen doorway.
One of her eyebrows raised, “you just needed to come hang out in the kitchen?”
A snort of laughter escaped his mouth before he pointed up. Sarah followed his finger to the little sprig of fake mistletoe she’d hung there. “I thought you were joking,” she said, her eyes coming back to his face.
“About this dress?” he asked, slipping his hands over her hips and around to hold her bum. “Or about wanting to kiss you under the mistletoe?”
She glanced back to the party, hoping no one caught Quinn groping her so openly. “I don't know. About the cornering bit, I guess.”
A smile crept over his face, “how else was I supposed to guarantee we'd end up here together?”
Sarah tried to roll her eyes but ended up smiling instead. It was nice to feel so wanted.
“I missed you,” he said, nudging her to step toward him by tightening his hands.
“Quinn, people can see,” she admonished, even as she moved closer.
“So?”
“So you have your hands all over my ass in plain sight.”
“I don’t think anyone would blame me for wanting to touch you in this dress,” he said.
A thrill spiked in her chest. She’d never had this much pull over a man. “And what were you hoping for under this mistletoe?” she asked.
“Just need a minute to tide me over until the party ends,” he murmured, leaning in.
His lips brushed over hers.
Deciding she didn’t care if people saw, Sarah sighed into him. Everyone knew they were dating, after all. More than dating - they were living together. They were throwing a party together. No one would be shocked to see them under the mistletoe.
Allowing herself to sink into the kiss, she opened her mouth and welcomed the sweet, tangy taste of his tongue. He must have just drunk some of the cranberry punch she made.
A contented noise escaped his mouth, and Quinn leaned a little closer, savoring the hint of chocolate liqueur in her mouth.
The knowledge that his entire team and their partners were in the house caught up to him, and Quinn pulled back. He didn’t really want to, but he also didn’t want the ribbing that would surely come his way if it went any farther.
He just needed to make it to that evening anyway.
Pursing his lips together, he met her eyes.
Her smile told him she was looking just as forward to the end of the party as he was.
The anticipation of it spiked in his stomach, making him feel giddy.
The laughter and drinks kept flowing long after the gift exchange wound down.
In an effort to do something different from the year before, they’d proposed a white elephant type exchange, but each gift had to be worth at least 100 dollars and something nice, not jokey.
The most fought over gifts were a bottle of imported Irish Whiskey Dakota brought and a diamond necklace Sarah had found in a vintage shop along her regular route home.
Quinn ended up with a pair of tickets to a cooking class with a local chef, while Sarah ended up with a ridiculously soft cashmere scarf.
Though Sarah expected that everyone, with their rigorous travel schedules, would want to get home as soon as possible, it seemed they all were savoring the time together without their kids and without the pressure of practice or a game.
It was nice to see all the guys casual and carefree in a way that didn’t happen very often. She rarely saw the whole team so relaxed together.
When it became evident that everyone would be staying much later than anticipated, Sarah started to readjust her expectations for the evening. The way things were going, they’d be too tired to do anything but do a quick clean of the apartment and flop into bed when the night wound down.
Quinn was chatting with Lankinen in the kitchen, looking so effortlessly handsome in his sweater and slacks. Those slacks really should be a crime. his thighs looked good enough to bite. And then he’d gone and rolled up his sleeves. He had strong wrists and forearms, and when he wore shirts like this, she always felt a strange surge of attraction to them.
As she continued to stare, just as she expected would happen, he looked up to meet her gaze.
She gave a subtle head tilt toward the entry hall and raised her eyebrows.
A smile crept over his face, and he nodded.
Trying to be casual, she made her way to the front door. She’d hung mistletoe in the entryway, imagining kissing each other hello and goodbye at the door, even though that rarely happened in their everyday life.
By the time Quinn was able to make his excuses and follow Sarah to the front door, she’d been there for several minutes, He found her leaning against the wall, with her head tilted back, seemingly savoring the time alone.
He was just wondering if he should leave and come back when she glanced over.
A smile immediately spread over her face, and she straightened.
“You okay?” he asked, closing the distance between them.
“Yeah.” Her voice was quiet, just for him.
Slipping her arms around his neck, she met his eyes. Even in the dim, entryway light, she could see how the color of his sweater brought out the green in his eyes, making them a mottled, foresty color.
“You should wear green more often.”
The left corner of his mouth tipped up. “I should?”
“Yeah.” Her fingers wove themselves into the curls at the base of his skull. “It brings out the color in your eyes.”
He fluttered his lashes, and she giggled. “Can you just learn to take a compliment?”
A blush flashed over his cheeks.
“You’re just really handsome,” she said, almost as if it was a confession.
Quinn resisted the urge to deflect the compliment and busied himself with running his hands over the smooth fabric of her dress. “You should wear this all the time.”
“All the time?” she repeated.
He nodded.
“Even at the aquarium?”
A laugh chuffed out of his mouth. “Okay, maybe not all the time,” he continued before she could cut in, “you just look really beautiful in it.”
She knew how Quinn felt about this dress, he’d made that abundantly clear throughout the night - checking her out each time she entered the room and with his little stunt in the kitchen - but hearing the sincerity in his voice now made it burrow home with a bit more force.
It was her turn to blush.
“You’re doing okay?” he asked. “I can start telling people they need to leave.”
She shook her head, “You don’t need to do that. I’m having fun. Just wanted you to myself for a minute.”
Quinn felt a ridiculously big smile spread over his face. “Always happy to do that,” he said, leaning closer.
As their mouths melted together, Sarah thought she heard shushing but pushed the whispers out of her mind, relishing the stolen moment alone.
She didn’t think about it for the rest of the night, which lasted well into the next morning. By the time everyone left, after Natalie and JT stayed late to help them clean up, it was past two.
Glancing at her phone for the first time after loading the dishwasher, Sarah was surprised to see she had a message from Katelyn. When she opened it, she found a dimly lit photo of her and Quinn in the entryway, kissing under the mistletoe. His hands were on her waist, and hers were in his hair. Through her editing magic, Kate had blurred everything else in the background, making the photo look just like Sarah felt in that moment – as if she and Quinn were in their own little bubble.
Caught you guys under the mistletoe. It was too cute not to take a pic. Hope you don’t mind. Thanks for a great party. E was telling me on the way home how happy Q’s been since he met you. Anyway, just glad this crazy world brought us together. Love you, girl.
Love you too. Thank you for the beautiful picture.
Katelyn hearted the message, and when Sarah showed it to Quinn, he said, “that one should go in the launch deck, don’t you think?”
Sarah nodded, her movement slow with sudden fatigue.
“Come on,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and leading her away from the kitchen and the dishes. “We can finish this up in the morning. Let’s get to bed.”
Too tired to argue that they really should just get it all done now, she let him lead her upstairs.
They got ready for bed, and as he pulled her close, Quinn whispered, “I love you, you know that?”
“I know.” It took a sleepy minute for her to continue, “I love you, too. I’m glad we did this.”
Tucking his nose into her hair, Quinn breathed in her familiar scent. His voice was dim when he thanked her.
She turned, pressing her nose into the divot of his collar bone so he felt and heard her next words.
“I’m glad this Christmas is with you.”
“I wouldn’t want it with anyone else.”
Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist
To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist
#quinn & sarah snapshots#quinn hughes#qh43#qhughes#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes fanfic#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes oneshot#quinn hughes x ofc#quinn hughes au#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes blurb#quinn fic#nhl fanfiction#hockey fanfiction#hockey romance#ho ho hockey 2024 🎄#ho ho hockey master list 🎄#Spotify
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Feelings and Faults (Wolverine)
Description: Logan loves Y/N but she’s too caught up on the past.
Word Count: 1,020
Requests: Hi I was just wondering if you could write wolverine x reader smut where he is in love/obsessed with her and she has feelings for him but doesn’t acknowledge it because she doesn’t think she deserves to be loved which could be down to past trauma (it’s up to you) but then they confess their feelings inspired by the scene in the Honda Odyssey just without deadpool please it’s okay if not
Author’s note: I didn’t see the smut part until I went to post so that’s not part of the story. But I hope you like it!
She sat in the Honda Odyssey with a drink in her hand. She never really was one for drinking but times like these it was needed. Everyone was either inside planning the attack on Nova or by the fire drinking. She was in the car, alone in thought. Not realizing that she had someone that could never look away from her.
Someone that loved her and wanted to be with her even though she had fault in that. After losing Erik she never felt like she could be loved again or deserved it. But Logan adored her and wanted her forever. In his universe Y/N and Magneto were the happy couple that he let get killed. He always adored her but could never have her.
Now, she didn’t have Magneto in her life anymore and he wanted to be the one to fill the void. He could tell that she beat herself up over it and the blame was on her. Whatever happened between them, he would never believe that she was fully the one to blame. She deserved love and happiness, even if she couldn’t see it.
After his talk with Laura he walked over to the car that he knew she was in and got in the driver side. She looked over at him and saw a bottle of whiskey in his hand and smirked. He was definitely one for drinking. But she couldn’t blame him. “How did I know that you were in here?” He asked and she shrugged. “Despite what Wade says, I think the Honda Odyssey fucks hard.” She said and that made him chuckle.
Wade hated this car but Y/N liked it. “I also didn’t take you for drinking.” She smiled at him and held up the drink, “Cheers to that. I never was a drinker but after things go south it’s nice to have one.” He watched as she chugged the rest of her drink and held out her cup to fill it up. He gladly poured her another glass. “So about the fight earlier-” “Don’t mention it. He’s fine.” “I’m talking about you. Us.” She looked over at him, “What’s there to talk about? You’re right. I beat myself up over a guy that probably never gave a shit about me.” He felt guilt for saying that to her. “In my universe, you guys were married. Had kids even. You two were in love.” She rolled her eyes, “And let me guess we died?” He nodded and cleared his throat, “Yeah. It was awful. I constantly think back to that night and it haunts me.” “It was probably meant to be.” He looked at her, “What do you mean?” “I’m not meant to be happy in any universe.” He wanted to roll his eyes at her and her stupidity but he kept going, “No. That’s me. You sit here and act like nobody loves you and you’re alone but that is fair from the truth.” She looked at him as he finished off the bottle.
“Y/N, In my universe I was in love with you. I wanted you so bad but Erik beat me to it.” Her eyes widened in shock. His words repeating in her head. “The first second I met you I felt it all come back. Only this time Erik isn’t in the way. It’s you.” She chugged her drink before she could get out the words, “What?” It wasn’t a question of her asking him to repeat what he said or that she couldn’t hear him. She simply could not believe the words that left his mouth.
“Don’t act like nobody loves you and doesn’t care about you. I do! And I always will.” She stared at him with wide eyes. Sure, she had some feelings for him but she beat herself up after what happened with Erik. “You’re drunk.” She stated and he laughed. “Unbelievable. I pour my heart out to you and you tell me I’m drunk?” She didn’t know what to say to him at this time. “Y/N, Erik was a fucking idiot for not loving you and trying with you. You’re amazing and beautiful and only a dumb fuck like him wouldn’t see that.” Her eyes filled with tears, “You can’t mean that.” She whispers and he sighs, “Well I do. And if Wade wasn’t there earlier than maybe this would have come out sooner.” She turned away from him and sighed.
This couldn’t be real. There was no way he was telling the truth. Was he? She looked up at the top of the car, “The Magneto that Cassandra killed, that was mine.” He turned to look at her, “The TVA had got him before I could save him. I feel like the biggest fuck up about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t love me or wanted to be with me. It was never known but we had something special.
That’s why I was so nervous about coming here. I was so scared that he wouldn’t want anything to do with me and hated me but he’s dead. That’s worse than him hating me.” She was pouring her heart out to him. “I want to believe you, Logan. But I don’t know. After seeing you and you helping us I realized that maybe Erik wasn’t the one for me and that I could have another chance at happiness.”
“You can. I’m right here.” She turned to look at him to find that he was already looking at her. Maybe it was the heat of the moment but she really wanted to kiss him. As if he was Charles Xavier and could read her mind, he leaned in and kissed her. She kissed back and maybe it was the drink or the kiss but she felt herself calm down and realize that this was meant to be. “Erik wasn’t your fault sweetheart. You are not at fault for that. You deserve love and all the happy things in love.” She felt herself smile at his words. “Thank you, Logan.” she whispered and he smiled. “No problem, sweetheart.” He said before they locked lips again.
#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#wolverine#wolverine xmen#wolverine smut#wolverine x reader#wolverine imagine#wolverine x you#logan howlett#logan howlett smut#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#ryan reynolds#hugh jackman#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#mcu#x men
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from DIASOMNIA
- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.
- Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt.
- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.
- Note: This is just the first part, only with Diasomnia. I’ll post the rest later once its written. For now, I hope you enjoy this part! Oh, and this was inspired by the mention of letters @qierxing‘s fic inspired by the whole imposter au idea. So yeah. Hopefully I caught all the mistakes in this post because I am not rereading all that again.
Diasomnia | Ignihyde
Among the first letters you pick is carefully sealed in a black envelope. You found it peculiar that Grim, who had offered to use his claws to open the envelopes, hadn’t been able to cause the slightest tear as if it were being protected by some magic. But it opened with ease during your first attempt to rip it open.
You didn’t care much for the wax family crest that had sealed it, or the black envelope itself. Maybe it would feel liberating to just set them all ablaze as soon as you finished skimming over the carefully written words.
To my dearest human,
I understand the pain I have caused you.
Ever since that moment I betrayed you, all I have seen in my vision and in my mind is your expression of terror. It tortures me. Your terror spurred by my actions and my very own hands. I am your most beloved and loyalest of companions in this world, and yet, had my retainers behind those doors not intervened, you would have been gone forever. And it would have been all my doing, all my fault.
I write this letter to apologize, but as I write this, I realize that there is no forgiving what has been done. Ever. No matter how I plead or what comes from my lips. But I will say this: there are no amount of words that can truly convey how sorry I am. This will haunt me for the remainder of my centuries of life.
Agonizing thoughts plague my mind and torment me at all hours of the day and night, at every and each moment. Even now, I reflect on everything I had done to harm you. While, the time I believed in those falsehoods was minuscule compared to the days others knew and acted upon it, the fact still stands that I was too easily deceived by mere rumors alone. I was blinded by my rage when I heard that someone dared to impersonate you and had been the probable cause of your vessel’s malfunction, that I did not even take a brief respite to consider the validity of the information that reached my ears.
Believe me, although I realize you have no reason to hold even a shred of faith in a single word I say and for that I would not blame you, but I will atone for the crimes I have committed. In any way possible. Even if it takes my entire lifetime, I will continue forward until I have achieved this goal and you may smile upon me once again. There is a human saying, which if I recall correctly I believe goes something like, forgive but never forget. Well, I would beg for forgiveness, while knowing full well that my misdeeds will never truly be forgotten. The harm I inflicted will leave scars that will never fully fade.
For every scratch my nails left on your delicate flesh, you may drive vines of the sharpest thorns against my own skin until blood pools all around me. For every bruise from my hand that tainted you, I would hand you an iron sword to use as you wish against me until you believe I’ve had enough. If it pleased you, I would even utilize my magic to transform into a figure with wings, which I would then proceed to sever the wings by my own hand and offer them to you on a silver platter.
Any punishment you can think of, I would readily accept.
Although living with the guilt of my mistakes and knowledge of the weight of my actions against you, is by far the most painful torture I’ve ever known.
If I do not receive word from you soon, I fear I may go insane with my own guilt. Yet I know I bring this upon myself. And if I were to go insane, if I was not insane this entire time already, you are all that would be in my thoughts. You are all that would remain in the part of my mind that is intact. You are currently and have been all that I think of, so perhaps my sanity is already long gone.
I would venture into the deepest crevices of hell and back, just to prove my worth to you. Even if I must be punished for the rest of my life, so be it. But I implore you to allow me to redeem myself, let yourself bear witness to the incredible feats I may accomplish in your name. Redemption... The thought of perhaps one day receiving the blessing of your smile and your grace once more in the near or distant future, is the light at the end of the tunnel in this dark period of my existence. I am yours. Whether you still desire me or not, I will forever be yours, and I will brave through trials of fire to demonstrate my eternal devotion to you.
Just know that I will do everything in my power to please you. Whether it be to fulfill the judgement you cast upon me, to demonstrate my worth and determination to achieve redemption, or simply because you command it so, it shall be done.
For now, I will wait on your response and deliberate over my next course of action. Should you desire anything, anything at all, wether it be something as simple as traveling to the store for a purchase, you have a moment of recluse and desire company, or if you command me to move the island or clear the very heavens, all you must do is speak my name. Then, consider it done. Once my name is upon your lips, I will be there as the last syllable leaves your tongue.
I will await the moment I am summoned.
Forever yours,
Malleus Draconia
That was... unnerving. Your hand unconsciously drifted up to the slight puncture wounds on your neck. They had long since dried, but you vividly remember feeling the thin trail of crimson being drawn and dripping down like a steady stream.
You could remember the way Malleus withdrew as soon as he realized the truth, like he had been burned with his hands on you in that fashion. The blood, your blood, staining his sharpened nails. The red was deeper than any nail polish or ink.
You were nearly sent spiraling, until you felt a tap and the texture of paper against your arm. When you glance down, you see Grim pressing his paws with another crumpled letter onto you. The ink on this letter is red, but the feline’s wide curious eyes are a glowing blue.
“You okay? What’s so interesting about that wall you’re lookin’ at? You’re kinda just staring off into nothing there.”
Offering a grateful nod to Grim who frowned worriedly, you accept the already opened envelope while tossing aside the letter from Malleus. “I’m good. Just... thinking.”
Lifting a hand, you place your palm against his head and scratch the spot behind his ears. Grim lets out a content purr and holds a bag of junk food, which he probably found among the mountain of gifts, and curls up beside you. You continue the slow and soothing scratches as you use your freehand to unravel the letter Grim brought you from the towering stacks.
This envelope was already cut open. It was a light brown and more square-shaped as thin rope kept it tied together. It had a mash of colorful strings that formed a messy bow to top it off. At least, you assumed it was meant to be a bow, but it looked more like a messy knot that would be impossible to untangle. Good thing it was already partially cut by Grim’s claws earlier.
As mentioned, the ink was red, an interesting choice. While the handwriting was not as elegant as Malleus’ letter. Some words were written neatly, before falling off the line and blending with other words. Making it a bit difficult to read, but you managed.
If you’re reading this,
This means that I am not irredeemable in your eyes.
Had I been beyond redemption, you would have not even opened this letter. If this was a lost cause, a merry dance, this paper would’ve been tossed into the trash without a second thought. But, my words have reached you. You’re reading this right now, aren’t you? It’s why I decided to write this. I could predict the actions you’d take. You are different from your vessel, but it’s only natural that you would act similarly to the silly little doll you controlled, the same doll that sparked this whole fiasco.
I truly am so sorry if I frightened you. While I will admit, it was my intention to strike fear into your heart and use you to serve for another dubious purpose, that was when I hadn’t recognized you. Although, I know this doesn’t mean much to you, I figured I should be entirely honest to you. It’s the least I can do. I’m such a fool for being quick to believe the rumors like some sort of senseless child.
All I can do now, is remain true and offer up my loyalty. It’s nothing compared to the mistakes I made, and I’ve made plenty, but I know an apology will never suffice. So, even if you’re still uncertain about redemption, I’ll remain loyal. Among all the beings and creatures I’ve met in my lifetime, you remain an enigma. You’re human, but at the same time, you’re different. There continues to be so much I do not know of you. I wonder, could you hear me whenever I spoke to your plaything? Do you recall the stories I told, of my time as a reckless youth? Foolhardy, wild, that I was. But I was also fiercely loyal. For the Draconias, I razed down all foes like wheat in a field.
Now that I consider it, perhaps it's best if you hadn’t heard me recount those tales. While I had been eager to share with you my experiences and act out my thrilling adventures, perhaps my story telling was much too graphic. I wouldn’t want the vivid details of bloodshed to be cause for alarm as our most recent encounter was far from pleasant. You have to forgive me, sometimes I get carried away when narrating my accomplishments and exploits. I’ll share more light-hearted memories with you the next time we meet.
Our first meeting with your true self really went abysmally, didn’t it? I know that things never really go as planned, so I don’t bother planning such things in advance. But, I had pictured it to be a lovely moment. Silver and Sebek would look at you with shining eyes and proclaim their loyalty as they had practiced vows over and over again for such an occasion, I would get to embrace your true form and unlock your secrets, and of course Malleus would be truly content for once as he finally received the company he deserved.
But, as expected, things didn’t go accordingly.
Those three youths are miserable, thinking of the proper words to pen, a way to apologize for the suffering they’ve caused. But now, we are the ones suffering because we hurt you.
They write and write, but tear their letters over and over again as they believe no words they’ve written so far are adequate. Soon they’ll realize that no words will ever be sufficient for an apology. Even if they were to create new words that are unheard of by any dictionary, it would not come close to being enough. That’s why I’ve decided to stick with this single attempt, because I already know that nothing I ever write will measure up to being acceptable.
There is something about you that always leaves me bemused. Your grace left me feeling dizzy and giddy, like I was experiencing a little crush again, although this was much more intense than any crush. The truth about your vessel controlled by you, had me perplexed as I had never heard of such a thing. And well, the disastrous chase that followed your arrival... you know that part well and could assume how I feel about that from what I’ve told you. At present, all I can do is remain loyal, for what my loyalty is worth to you. Beyond that, despite having an abundance of experiences, there is no such situation that could have prepared me for this moment.
Genuinely, I am stumped once again. I cannot even envision what can be done with my own two hands, that can be worthy of your attention once again and earn me redemption. But, you can be certain of one thing, and that is: my loyalty is undying. I still have a few years left in these old bones of mine, and I will use the rest of my life to serve you.
Whether you want me or not. If you still want me, I will be of use to you. Whatever you are in need of, a soldier, a plaything, a companion, or even someone to take out your anger on. I shall be it. If you don’t want me, I will still be there. I will always be there to smile and lift your spirits like you once did for me through your doll.
I eagerly wait for word from you.
Until we meet again soon,
Lilia Vanrouge
None of these letters were comforting in the slightest. In fact, they only placed you further on edge. For a moment, you considered stopping it here after only two and getting rid of the rest.
Grim by now had settled in your lap, and looked up at you with those watchful blue eyes. Had he been staring at you the entire time?
“Let me guess, they’re not taking it well?”
“No, not at all.” You answer with a grimace. If this was how they were like now, you didn’t even want to know how they acted when they found out your vessel stopped working over a week ago.
“Huh, sucks for them.” The feline stretched out, his claws poking out for a moment before quickly retracting as he plopped back down on his back with his stomach up. Maybe it was his own attempts to fill the silence, or to let you know you weren’t alone, but he eventually groaned. “Hey, read me one. I wanna know what they say.”
Unable to say no to your companion, you nodded slowly and smiled weakly, “Alright, alright, let’s see what we have here...”
You plucked out a random letter with neat packaging. However, just because the exterior was pretty, didn’t mean the interior message would be. You learned that already from the last two letters you had read.
This envelope looked somewhat similar to the last one, square-shaped and tied closed with string. However, instead of the knot of ribbons on it, it held a simpler gift. The brown rope around it was tied in a neat bow, and between the string were lavender stems with a small branch of wild berries.
Grim immediately indulged in the berries and the flowers, staining his little fangs and whiskers with the sweet sticky juice and purple petals. All the while exclaiming, “Oh, oh! I remember this letter. Some bird came to drop it and it flew away just before I could catch it...”
A short laugh escaped your lips as you hear him. “So that’s why you were grumbling this morning.”
Not wanting to be reminded again, he swat his paw at your nose as the feline hissed, “Shh! Just read already!”
Dear player,
I truly am deeply remorseful and I offer my sincerest apologies.
I was to be a knight, that has been something I have strived for ever since I was a child. A knight not just to serve Malleus but to protect others, and eventually I discovered my purpose was to serve you as well. But... all I did was stand idly by and watch the torment. Shortly after meeting your vessel, I had promised to shield you from all danger. I broke that promise.
I cannot imagine how frightened you must have been. Had just one person stop and thought things through, they may have realized the horrible mistake that was being made. Had I acted as soon as I felt the tug on my heart when I saw you weakened and on the dirt, I may have saved you from anymore pain.
Those eyes, your eyes, I see them in my sleep. You were scared, and through your gaze you were pleading for help, were you not? I see it every time I close my eyes. You witnessed it yourself, the very moment when I had failed you. You were right there, so close I could have extended a helping hand. But my grief rendered me sightless, all I could think of in that moment is how my heart ached and how I longed to see you again. Even if it was through your vessel. The rumors didn’t quite make any sense to me, as I wondered how could anyone possibly be so cruel as to tear you away from us?
Father had said that it would all be over soon. That capturing the imposter and bringing them to their knees, would make everything better. But when I saw you on the ground before we learned of your identity, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was alright. Would the player have wanted this? Would they have scorned upon witnessing the scene? Would this undoubtedly end the throbbing pain I felt in my heart? The pain was becoming unbearable, and I was not the only one to feel it. The news made little sense to me. Sebek insisted that it was true, and Father seemed to believe so as well. However, that is no excuse for how I went along as if it were okay.
You were innocent and helpless, you, the player, not only witnessed the scene but were the victim. I’m so sorry, I should have done something... If it were the only way to gain your forgiveness, I would spend every moment of my waking hours writing letters of apology. To do so I would keep myself awake for as long as humanely possible. If asked, I would use every moment to pen these letters, each different from the last. Although after several attempts in redoing this single letter, I realize that it would be a pointless endeavor.
After reflecting, the only way to make up for what I have do is be patient.
Be patient and await for word from you. I cannot force you, I cannot pressure you, I can only pause and prepare myself to do whatever I must in order to earn back your grace.
Please, do not keep me waiting too long. I know I have no right to ask you this. I’m willing to wait years if needed, but part of me has this fear that I will never regain a spot near your heart until I’m frail and feeble with age. Rest assured, even in old age, I would be willing to be your knight. Even if my bones ached, I would raise my sword and shield. If I couldn’t use my weakened legs, I would call upon a horse to be my steed. And if I were to become magicless, I would use the remainder of my physical strength to serve you.
If I may be honest with you? I have no idea what to do. Yes, I said I would wait, but what else can I do? What can I do to eventually secure a place beside you, if it were possible? In times of trouble I normally turn to Lilia and Malleus for advice, however, I am a bit unsettled by their approach to this delicate matter. Truthfully, I am anxious, but while they share the sentiment, they are oddly confident that things will turn out alright in the end. I am unsure how they can muster the self-assurance to quell their fears. Maybe they know something that I do not, and have decided not to share this secret for now...
Nevertheless, for now I’ll eagerly anticipate the day we can reunite just as I have dreamed. I greatly look forward to the second where not only I can see you smile once again and your eyes might finally look at me with content, but also the moment where all those I know might get the opportunity to be in your peaceful grace.
I’ve dragged this letter on for too long. If you were to take something away from this letter, let it be this: I will carry out your wishes. No matter what you may think of me, whether it be a positive or negative image in your mind, I will continue forward in your name. Even if you think me unfit for the title of knight, then consider me a humble servant instead. Nothing will shake my commitment, and I will do whatever it is you ask.
This is a pledge that will not be broken.
Cordially,
Silver
This letter felt a bit lighter than the others. Still, it was slightly intense in its own way, but it was nowhere near as extreme as the previous two were. And, maybe you had a better opinion on Silver, not because he was gentle with his words but because he was one of the very few who hadn’t threatened you, directly harmed you, or treated you cruelly.
But! He didn’t get a free pass just because of that. Yes, he may not have directly caused any harm, but he didn’t exactly help you either.
Grim had taken the letter from you, and inspected the paper in his paws. He held it above his head, scrunching up his nose a bit as he looked it over. “I dunno... he’s okay.”
At that, you roll your eyes a bit as a smirk crept up from the corner of your mouth. “You’re not just saying that because his letter came with a snack?”
“No! You think me easy to bribe? I think not! It would take a whole bucket full of berries just to get me to even discuss it. Then, I’d turn them down and take the berries anyways!” The feline proclaimed his brilliant plan should that situation ever arise. Maybe the gifts you allowed him to take were starting to get to his head. “But... he could be worse. Silver, as dumb as he was like everyone else, he did hear me out after they separated us.”
Silver did that? If that were true, it’s possible that he wasn’t as bad as the others who had wronged you.
“That’s... good to know.” You murmur as you pluck up another random envelope from the pile.
The last envelope you pick up before you planned to take a break was surprisingly plain. It was just that. A plain white envelope, sealed by green wax with what looked like a family crest that depicted a creature with fangs and scales. One of the corners was crinkled, as if it was gripped too tightly there.
As soon as you slid out the folded letter, you were bombarded by the ink. Whoever had wrote this, seemed like they applied too much force. This caused certain parts of some letters to be too round and heavy with ink that made those bits feel damp and stain your fingers the slightest bit. Like whoever wrote this, placed just as much pressure with their hands on the pen gliding across the page, as much pressure as they felt weighing on their mind.
Great Player,
As I pen this, I am on my hands and knees.
I have prepared a multitude of letters which I will send daily, so that now and in the future you will continue to hear my apology and know I truly mean it. One admission of regret is not enough. An apology is only an acknowledgment of an offense, it does not absolve one of their wrongdoings. I know this! So, I, Sebek Zigvolt, will atone by any means necessary!
To you, the player who I wronged and deserves nothing but happiness and perfection, I give my deepest sincerest profuse apology. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m SORRY. Right now when I look at my hands that I use to write, I’m reminded of the vicious way I grabbed you like some... heathen! These hands sullied your flawless self, and for that alone I will never forgive myself!
Had it not been for the wise words of Master Lilia and the bothersome yet logical reasoning from Silver, I would have been at your door everyday, every hour, begging for a second chance. In the midst of brainstorming, I presented my idea of crawling on hands and knees, from Diasomnia to the Ramshackle Dorm, to deliver the letter myself. Then, I would display whatever cuts or bruises formed on my palms and knees which I would receive from the rocky roads or thorns, that way you may see my devotion was true and no lengths are too great when it comes to you! No matter the pain or burden! The idea seems to appeal to Lord Malleus, but I was told that it comes off as too extreme...
But! I beg to differ!! I only consider it so that you may understand what I feel, so that you might comprehend the things I would do for you, and receive me back in your good graces! Additionally, delivering the letter in this manner would cause me as much or more physical pain than I caused you! It is a shame that things have come to this. I had wished so much for our first proper meeting to be one of joy where you might accept me as your knight! In spite of that, I will not falter in shame! If I were to deliver the following letters in that method I had detailed earlier, I would wear the scars proudly! It would be physical proof of my faithfulness towards you!
I am sorry, and I will continue to say it. Perhaps, this may be presumptuous of me, but if you consider it, Diasomnia did not torment you nearly as long as any other insolent dorm had! And! We retainers accompanied Lord Malleus every day to check on the wellbeing of your vessel, and watch over it while investigating various possible approaches on how to revive Yuu. We diligently did this until the moment we encountered your true self!
I swear to you, no one shall harm you from this moment forth!
From now on, I’ll march forward and see to it that you are never hurt ever again! This is something I know that my fellow dormmates will tirelessly work toward as well.
Have you realized that we have been guarding you and the serenity of your dorm in the past days? Have you not thought it strange that none have come to needlessly pester you? Yes, that is all thanks to the efforts of those in Diasomnia! Even when you do not realize it, we are insuring your welfare and the tranquility you require to recover! Of course, as much as I desperately want to inform you of the details, I will not. It is best you don’t know.
Now, I must be honest with you. Originally, I had planned this letter to be much longer and have contents that would have been much different than what you are currently reading. I aimed to be honest in my feelings! But before I could sign off on the original draft, I realized that the others may be in the right. It is possible that our devotion, my devotion, may come off as disquieting if I were completely sincere. I’ve had to restrain myself on many occasions, reminding myself to at least appear collected and controlled. That is not as easy as it sounds!
How could it be, when the one I must suppress my emotions and actions for, is you? That’s as if asking to repress part of my very soul and heart! I absolutely detest hiding it!! But when I remember this is for you and your own comfort, it becomes bearable. I can only hope that soon, very soon, I might be able to unveil my true sentiments towards you! As intense and extreme as they may be!
It seems that I’m nearing the word limit that they imposed. Once again, I apologize. I’ll have to contemplate new ways to write ‘sorry.’ I wish I could write a million more words for you! But even a million words wouldn’t be anywhere near a satisfactory amount for me to detail how much I revere you! And it would take more than another million words for me to write a full apology, but even then I wouldn’t be satisfied! No single letter is adequate enough, so be prepared to receive the rest I have written!
I will make sure they are delivered posthaste!
Faithfully,
Sebek Zigvolt
Great... you’re back to being unnerved again.
There was something about them all being so weirdly obsessed, but in vary different ways. Malleus and Lilia puzzled you, they had you feeling the most uneasy by far. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they were both not human, they were arcane beings with enigmatic personalities and objectives that were incomprehensible to you.
Out of the four, Silver was the only one that was fully human like yourself, but even he was a bit of a mystery as he was raised by the fae. It was hard to be wary of him, which was probably because your distrust and fear of him wasn’t as intense as it was towards the others due to his good nature and lack of actions he took during the whole disaster.
As for Sebek, well, he was unnerving in his own right but it was nowhere near on the level that Malleus and Lilia were on. At the very least he wasn’t a complete mystery to you. It was easy to figure out his intentions, because he either said them or wore them on his sleeve.
Your mind was spinning as you looked over the four letters, filled with lines upon lines and more lines of pages. In that moment your breath quickened as you noticed the cloudy sky outside. For a brief second, you feared you would see that familiar flash of green lightning, taking you back to that dark day when you nearly died. It’s like you could feel Sebek’s hands tightly gripping the back of your skull that forced you against the earth, you saw Silver’s sorrowful gaze that spoke a thousand words you didn’t yet understand, you heard Lilia’s words hinting to a doomed fate of becoming some lifeless doll, and god, you couldn’t forget him even if you wanted to. Malleus. He was the worst of all. You felt his nails and fingers constricting around your neck and squeezing out all the air, you saw his haunting green eyes with those slit pupils as he glowered at you with such anger and hate, and you heard what you had thought would be the last words you ever heard come from his lips––
“Hey!”
You were torn out of those dark thoughts by the feline in your lap. A concerned frown tugged at Grim’s lips, but once he saw he had your attention, he mustered a slight grin as he held up what looked like an armful of snacks. At least, as much as he could carry in his small paws. From his grin, you could see his little fangs still covered in the remnants of the berries and flower petals.
“Look, I found your favorite! This is getting boring, so let’s just take a break!”
#twisted wonderland#twst#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twst#twst imposter au#I didn't ask to get isekaied#we just got a letter wonder who it’s from#malleus draconia#yandere malleus draconia#twst malleus#lilia vanrouge#yandere lilia vanrouge#twst lilia#silver#yandere silver#twst silver#sebek zigvolt#yandere sebek zigvolt#twst sebek#diasomnia
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TWENTY TWENTY VISION — m. atsumu x gn!reader
sypnosis: atsumu needs glasses, but why on earth would he make his & your life easier by wearing them?
warnings: i'm gonna beat the shit out of atsumu oh my GOD he irks me so bad, post-timeskip atsumu, eensy bit of angst if you squint super super hard, osamu mention, i can't write the miya accent™ for the life of me but i tried so sorry, petnames such as baby used, he calls the reader pretty
notes: inspired by the fact that i just recently got my new glass and haven't had a pair since i was 14 so seeing the world focused fucks with me a lil bit, ALSO, atsumu with glasses has been flooding my brain, osamu is farsighted cause i said so
"I'm not wearin' 'em."
"Atsumu, please, you need to wear them, you have astigmatism in both of your eyes! And you're nearsighted!"
Atsumu lets out a soft huff as he crosses his arms, as if he isn't the reason you've been having this argument essentially since you brought up him even getting his eyes checked.
It all started when Osamu had gotten new glasses, that's what Atsumu thinks anyways, that this is all stupid Samu's fault.
Osamu came over one afternoon for a harmless visit, with new glasses on. You had asked Osamu about them, and commented that you never knew he needed glasses to which he responded:
"Oh yeah, me and Tsumu both do, he just hasn't worn his since junior high."
You swear you've never seen Atsumu react so quickly, his head snapping to Osamu and immediately telling him to shut up through gritted teeth. The subject gets dropped instantly, but now you're giving Atsumu side-glances throughout the night until Osamu leaves.
After you two are settled into bed and Atsumu is almost asleep, until your voice rings out in the dark.
"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask in a voice barely above a whisper.
"...What are ya on about?" Atsumu asks, turning to face you with a soft expression.
"Is that why you squint so much?" you ask again, "Because you don't wear glasses like you're supposed to, so the world's all unfocused for you all the time, is that why?"
Atsumu's silence and stunned expression is all the answer you need.
"That's what I thought," you mumble before turning away from him, "your eye appointment is Saturday at four."
And that puts Atsumu where he is now, sitting at the island connected to the kitchen in your small apartment, staring down the thick black lenses as if he was trying to explode them with his mind.
"I said, I ain't wearin' 'em," he huffs again vehemently, looking at you with an unwilling expression, "and that's final. I don't need no stupid glasses, I can see just fine."
"Oh yeah?" you challenge, palms resting against the island as you stand on the opposite side of it, "If you don't need your glasses, read the paper on our fridge. Without squinting."
Atsumu's face goes a little pale, his eyes widening slightly. He looks over your shoulder at the paper held onto the fridge with a stupid magnet in the shape of a volleyball.
"It, uh..." he trails off, trying to not squint as much as possible, "...it...it doesn't matter what it says! I'm still not wearin' those glasses! I don't need 'em!"
"Atsumu that paper is no more than four feet away from you, and you can't even tell me what the bolded title says," you responded in an almost pleading tone, "baby, you need your glasses, so I am begging you, please put them on."
Atsumu's face softens slightly at your pleading voice, before it turns unwilling again as he looks down at his arms and mumbles something you can't quite make out.
"What was that?" you ask.
"...They make me look dumb," he repeats a little louder, looking back up at you, "they make me look like an idiot, and since my eyes aren't used to being focused, I feel like a baby deer learnin' how to walk."
"Tsumu," you reply gently, your own expression softening, "if you didn't like the way glasses look, why didn't you ask for contacts?"
"Because they scare me," he rebuttals, "which I know is stupid because they're an easy solution to my problem, but they rip and get stuck and...I don't know, that just scares me."
You stare at him blankly before taking a deep breath, "Atsumu," you start, "I'm not...trying to make you look stupid, okay? I just know that you need them, and you know that too. It might be awkward at first, but won't it be worth it to see the world a little more clearer? So you won't have to squint to read traffic signs or drive through menus? And, glasses aren't a permanent solution, we can work our way up to contacts, but you need to wear these for now."
Atsumu looks down at the glasses again, letting out another unsure sigh as he picks the thick rims up, and places them on his face.
It's weird at first, everything is clearer. The titanium fridge, that stupid volleyball magnet and the paper it holds, and more importantly...
You.
The way your entire face shifts into focus leaves Atsumu speechless. He knows how pretty you are, he doesn't need glasses to see it, but god do they make it better.
You give Atsumu a weird look, "What?" you ask puzzled, "Can you see better?"
"Yeah," he responds with a small smile, "I can see real good, pretty."
#love letters from leo#my dearest haikyuu#atsumu x gn!reader#atsumu x reader#atsumu drabble#atsumu fluff#haikyuu x gn!reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#hq x reader#hq x gn!reader#hq fluff#haikyuu drabble#hq drabble#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu miya x gn!reader#atsumu miya drabble#atsumu miya fluff#wear your glasses or contacts kids
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Hi, I saw your smut requests post and was wondering if you could write one about touch starved Gale finally being alone with reader/Tav and getting his satisfaction? (Yeah, I got inspired by your nsfw headcanons about him, how could you tell?) Please and thank you!
PS Can I be 🧀 anon?
What happened at the moon lit pond
Gale X Fem!Reader
Baldurs gate 3
It’s been, probably three years since I’ve written a full fanfic? I’ll admit I’m probably a little rusty. Thank y’all for hanging in, and I hope this fulfills our nerdy wizard boy needs. thank you so much 🧀 anon for the request! I hope you stay and request some more.
Important tags: lots of pining, some angst (no sad ending), smutty (male and female Masterbation, male giving female oral), spoilers for gales mid game story, romance, Gale is an anxious mess, The thought of gale brushing his hair from his face got me GOING 😩
Word count: 1.9k
(Part 1.5 HERE) (PART 2 HERE)
(Gale headcanons that inspired this here)
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Gale didn’t know how to handle these new feelings for you. He makes a fool of himself everyday, it seems. He always offers you a slice of his bread, even if you gave your own, he saves some of his own morning coffee for you, since he wakes up earlier, and even warm it up for you with a spell.
He simply wanted you to like him. That would be all he needed, but anything else that may follow that would be a true blessing. Gale wanted nothing more than to make you laugh, to see your smile and know he was the reason why, to camp and be the first and last person you’d speak to before sleep.
Gale wouldn’t let his mind wander much past that, or he tried to not let it. The occasional dream would slip through where you were his, and he was yours. It simply put him in panic mode In the waking hours, trying to not be obvious, scared you’d find out, what exactly? He wasn’t sure. You were too kind to break his heart so effortlessly, like he feared you would.
Endless scenarios danced in gales head of rejection, humiliation, and what would happen if he let himself go, life he was tasked to do. It wouldn’t take much, to convince him to live. Friendship, a place to call home, even if it was ever moving. Company he could entrust his life to. It was all so appealing. Luring him into life, breathing a new passion into his purpose, one he’d lost many years ago, sometime when he was alone for so many years.
Those thoughts seemed to linger on forever, sweeping over his barely conscious brain to awaken him again, rustling him from what could be a good nights rest. Eventually, Gale decided to just get up and go for a walk.
Camp had been set up in one of the most beautiful places any of you had seen. Waterfalls tinted emerald green, sand fine and shimmering in the light, may it be sun or moon. I’m one of those waterfalls, he found you.
Waist deep in the pond. Skin and hair dripping wet, shining more than usual water would, adding a silver glow to the night. You looked better than a goddess could ever imagine, and still, his eyes never dipped below you shoulders, even though he deeply wanted to look lower. Instead, he stood there, looking like a fucking idiot, gods know how long. Maybe a tree branch snapped, or maybe you finally snapped out of your trance, but your head whipped in his direction, eyes darting across the small beach, only relaxing when you realize only gale stands before you.
“Oh, Gale, it’s just you…” you let out a deep, jagged breath, the anxiety flowing out of your body just as quickly as it racked through it.
“Just? Are you disappointed?” Gale smirked, although his heart raced in his chest, one word and he'd sulk back to camp, but gods he wanted to stay and spend the whole night with you under the stars.
“Far from it, really. I was just thinking about how much you’d enjoy this view if you were here” you tore your eyes away from Gale, focusing on the stars. “I thought it may remind you of waterdeep. You paint a very beautiful picture of home.”
“I can think of a few things much, much more beautiful than Waterdeep,” his voice low, raspier than usual. Easily explained away from the lack of sleep or old sleeping bags, not for what it really was. Deep yearning, wanting, needing.
“I’d love to see them someday, then.”
“We’ll just have to get you a mirror, then,” “All the beauty in the world would reflct
"Gale, I-" You finally looked into his eyes, he wore his heart on his sleeve, at least for a moment. Those puppy eyes, dark bust glistening in the full moonlight, his hair messy from turning in his sleep, he wanted you, in many more ways than one. Gale's emotions could never be that simple, of course.
"Well," you walked towards him, water inching lower and lower, revealing more and more of your body, yet gales eyes stayed on yours. "Why don't you join me for a swim. It's a beautiful night."
"an offer I could not refuse." Gale's face was plastered with that cocky smile, the one that could melt anyone into a puddle in seconds.
He might have been a gentleman and kept his eyes upwards, but you were not so much, Gale untied his robes, gods why were there so many damn layers? It was quite a sight, his little mannerisms that showed more of him to you than he had shown to you. He was nervous, his fingers missing the simple ties frequently, he got annoyed by his hair getting in his eyes, a grimace appearing before he swept his hair behind his ear.
Your eyes lingered on his circle smoke tattoo, his toned arms, his downright massive hands. he was more tan than you realized, To be fair, he's always covered in those loose robes, leaving you to wonder what was underneath. You were more than happy to finally be finding out. But not below the waist.
"Isn't it a bit cold to be this naked?"
"The water is warmer than the air, I promise." You extended a hand out to Gale, even though he was feet away from you. "Come on, Gale from Waterdeep being afraid of some cold water? Sounds redundant."
"You got me there." He finally stepped into the glimmering pond surrounded by rocks and sand, enough to have your own little corner, to lessen the echo if it was needed. The whole camp didn't need to know all of your business. It must've been a magical lake, as both you and Gale noted separately. Unnaturally still, even when you moved freely, small glowing lights pooled at your sides, occasionally bubbling into the air once you leaned against a large, bright rock.
"May I ask what you were doing out here at this hour?" Gale spoke, still much further away from you than he wanted to be,
"Can I not take a mid-night swim?" You raised your brows in a questioning glance his way "A woman needs time to herself. These days and nights have been very stressful."
Gales very audible oh, slipped through the silence. "You don't have to relax alone." His eyes finally gave in to the need, scanning your body with a low moan slipping past his lips. His excitement was immediate, brushing against your lower stomach all the way past your navel.
"You've wanted this." You stated, brushing your hand against his thigh.
"There's plenty of magic around us, I want the Gale right in front of me." You dared to inch even closer, his thigh fully slipping between yours, inches away from touching your pussy. His hands floated inches from your waist, "Let me give you everything"
"Give me everything" With that, Gale's hand grabbed your waist, gently guiding you onto his thigh, motioning your hips down and swaying only him. The sensation sent sparks flying through his body, you were right in front of him, completely bare and rocking with pleasure onto him. Better than any dream he'd thought up, any fantasy that ran through his head even at the most inappropriate of times. Yes even during the throws of battle. Even in hard times like that, he was so drawn to you.
Gales other hand came up to your jawline, tilting your head so he could latch his mouth around your neck. Deep marks left behind while he inches his way in hickeys up your neck, jaw, and finally to your lips. Any semblance of anonymity flew out the window, not a single person could miss what he gave you, artfully placed dark spots painting your skin. "I have never seen such a beautiful being in my life"
"I could say the same about you gale," You said betwixt breathy moans, picking up the pace of your grinding hips against his thigh, his hand on your waist moving between a tight grip on your ass, and a light but so effective caress of your clit. Every time you got so close, his fingers moved, he was teasing you. His cocky smirk felt even through his kiss.
"I want you to come on my mouth." As if he was reading your slightly frustrated thoughts, "I want to taste you in my dreams."
All you could manage was a frantic nod, a mumbled yes, and shakily hoisting yourself up onto a rock that was perfect for gales pretty head to be between your thighs. Gale pushed your thighs apart with one hand, which stayed firmly grabbing onto you. The other sneaked up your thigh, tracing patterns along your skin. "Gale, please," you whispered out of pure desperation. The only warmth coming from your feet still in the water, otherwise your skin exposed to the biting air.
"All you had to do was ask, my lady" Gales fingers easily slid into you, curling up and pumping in and out, while he leaned into your pussy, maintaining eye contact as he placed one kiss just to the right of where you needed him to be. All he needed was to be touched, to touch you. Your legs wrapped around him to get Gale even closer, urging him closer.
"Touch yourself" Barely a whisper, but Gale caught it, and certainly didn't need to be told twice. Secretly, he could cum from this alone, your taste, how soft you were, how loud you could get. It was more than enough to orgasm right there with you, however, that is not exactly how he wanted your first sexual experience to go. His hand clutching your thigh came to his cock, rubbing much faster and harder than he was fingering you. he was eager. He wanted this to last forever, he wanted you to cum again and again and again into his mouth. He wanted his face even more dripping from your juices.
"Gale I can't hold it-" You nearly screamed, his tongue swirling and sucking, lightly biting, it was almost too much. Then, he moaned. A loud, deep moan and that was it. Vibrations running through your body from his mouth. there noise that left your mouth could've been heard across Baldurs gate, you silently thanked this magical pound for being so secluded, as you would be borderline embarrassed if people heard. Gales didn't come back up for hair until he was sure you were finished, getting every last drop of you.
"You certainly are loud" Gales tone was so smug it almost made you laugh. You gripped onto his shoulders as he swept you down from the perch, pressing his whole body to yours. After all that, after her definitely came, he was still so hard, and so pressed against you that you couldn't help but gasp. "I want to hear that again."
"Hear what, exactly?" you teased, lifting a finger to trace his chest.
"To hear you cum," his lips dipped down to your ear, slightly nibbling on it, before he rasped "and to feel you on my cock."
-
Part two, here
(Requests Open)
#x reader#smut#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios#gale bg3#gale x tav#gale x reader#gale x reader smut#gale smut#gale of waterdeep smut#gale dekarios smut#gale dekarios x reader#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate 3 smut#baldurs gate 3 x reader#tav#requests open#astarion x reader
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okay I’m dropping some of my fable arcane au thoughts before the new episodes drop tomorrow even tho most of it is based on season 1 anyway—
so some basic taggings for you that I based the AU around:
1. Icarus as Jinx.
powder vs jinx is just the sherbert vs icarus name thing. toxic father. unhealthy relationship with sibling. a lil crazy and maybe evil. thinks that they are at fault for the things around them. lil bombs? nah- little SPLASH potions. hearing and seeing mylo and claggor? it’s Haley- it’s literally Haley—
2. Fable as Silco.
okay fable’s design WAS partially inspired by silco— they literally look the same— they’re both a man with two priorities: take over and make his own nation & care for child.
you know the ending scene of season 1? where they’re sitting at the table? THAT. With Jinx assuming that he’s gonna give her up to topside and him getting the first chance to talk and saying “her name is JINX!” i could write an essay on that for icarus. they’re so toxic and it’s so perfect. also that scene at the start of s2 ep2? YEAH THAT—
3. Centross as Ekko
This one is controversial and up to debate but i will die on this hill— SO THE S1 BRIDGE FIGHT. I am so willing to put aside any possible prison duo gay-ness in this AU for that rivalry/fight. they were friends!!! they were so good!! and now they wanna KILL EACH OTHER!! it’s great.
It’s also specifically thinking of Ekko’s tree home as solstice— older Ekko very much has the vibe of Violet specifically-
4. Arisanna as Sevika
I DONT KNOW WHY BUT IT MAKES SENSE TO ME. It’s specifically vexed Ari during the coworkers era but idk it just feels right— I look at her relationship with Silco and Jinx and go ‘hmmm this could be something’
[I will also say there is an argument here for swapping Centross and Ari tho— big tree city as Ari rebuilding the records goes hard, and angsty fighty toxic with jinx centross is also good— it’s like 50/50 for me]
5. Isla as Vander
LET ISLA BE A BADASS IN THIS AU. SHE DESERVES IT— something something raising vi and powder alone, something something the backstory with silco— there’s something there and it hits really hard in scenes where vi sees vander and helps her get back up— also I look at jinx and vander and I go “mmmm this is in fact how icarus sees Isla”
6. Rae as Vi
This was obvious given the above but LISTEN— in this ALTERNATE UNIVERSE OF EVENTS I think it would be fun- do I think that vi perfectly fits canon rae? no. But in this world it would KICK ASS. rae deserves to beat some people up— got kicked out of the overworld (zaun) by fable (silco) and had to go to the end (piltover) to get away from him?? rae end prince aus are already here so why not end rae also punching people huh??? also. gay people.
———
Okay— here’s where I need some help, thoughts, and opinions from you all…
1. Caitlyn.
POLYAMORY IS HARD TO TAG AND I DONT KNOW WHO FITS BEST?? For me, season 1 Caitlyn fits best as Caspian, but season 2 Caitlyn is more for Fenris— so I’m very stuck. yes absolutely give thoughts on this please—
2. Viktor as Aax (but how does that work)
Viktor absolutely should be Aax— mr. Scientist / lab experiment / turned religious figure vessel for god is CORRECT. But honestly the rest of Piltover gang is really hard with Rae as Vi— Jayce/Viktor/Mel is yelling at me to be the polycule but aGH— ya know??? very stuck on this so I instead look at the coworkers and go “mm good yes—”
Random other tags I think also make sense:
- Ulysses as that Telchin looking mf Stev— mans took out one lil medical device as his fish self and I said YUP
- The hexcore big orb thing underground as Quixis— big white glitch orb room make things go wack. couldn’t be easier than that.
———
Anyways that’s all— I’ve been rotating this in my mind for like a week and have had way too many thoughts about it thank you for your time—
#this was so long and I’m not even mad#it goes hard#season 1 specifically works so well#fable smp#arcane#fablesmp arcane au#icarus morningstar
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new look | L.K.
(fanart in the middle from tanya.gavva on instagram)
pairing: leon kennedy x reader
synopsis: leon kennedy grows out his hair for the first time in a long time... and you cherish every moment of it.
word count: 1,190
tags: long haired re4r leon, established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff and cute domestic stuff, slice of life, short and sweet
author's note: ya'll know those long hair leon kennedy mods. yeah. yeah those. thank the modders for inspiring me to write this. 😭😭😭 (seriously he is so beautiful with long hair i am Crying)
as per usual, this was posted at a time when i should be sleeping lol. this has been proofread but some grammatical errors may have still slipped by me. apologies in advance, any and all mistakes are mine!
please enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated.
(this has been crossposted on ao3)
Sometimes, Leon goes quite some time without hearing from the government. On the rare occasion he gets extended breaks, he gets a little lazy when it comes to keeping his hair short. Short hair stays out of Leon's face, and prevents any evil residents from grabbing it when he's on missions, but when he doesn't have any hostile enemies to fight and he spends most of his time with you, he likes to let it grow just a little bit – after all, it's nice to save some money on haircuts and it gets some pretty entertaining reactions out of you.
When you first noticed Leon's longer hair, you didn't comment on it; you assumed that he'd cut it fairly quickly. But several days had passed, and his hair only grew longer, much to your surprise (and delight). You brought it up to him one night while he was helping you cook dinner, his shaggy blonde hair falling into his eyes.
"Are you growing out your hair?" You had asked him. Leon looked away, almost in a shy manner that you found absolutely adorable.
"Yeah… I know it's unusual of me to keep it this long but it's been a while since my last mission and I haven't really felt like going to the barbershop, so…" he trailed off, running his fingers through the locks in a way that made your heart skip a beat.
There was a bit of silence before Leon spoke again. "Do you like it?" He asked you, to which you could only chuckle in response, walking over to him and running your own fingers through the strands before letting your arms rest on his shoulders, playing with the hairs on his nape.
"Leon Kennedy. Is that even a question?" You replied incredulously. Leon just smiled, chuckling softly as he placed his large hands on your waist. The two of you leaned in and shared a sweet kiss, momentarily forgetting about dinner altogether.
Leon eventually pulled away first, but his face remained close enough to yours that you could still feel his breath on your lips. Your fingers were still playing with his hair tenderly as your eyes admired the gorgeous sight directly in front of you.
Leon had always been handsome – that was just a known fact. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Leon Kennedy is attractive as all hell. But with the way his long hair was framing his face, you were falling in love all over again.
"Somehow you've gotten even more beautiful. I didn't even think that was possible." You teased, tucking some hair behind his ear.
"You're really loving this, aren't you?" Leon playfully asked, grinning warmly at you.
"To say that I'm loving this is a massive understatement – I am obsessed." you said with a smirk, saying the words against Leon's lips before pressing yours against his once more, this kiss a bit more passionate than the first one and making you feel light-headed in the best way possible, butterflies viciously attacking your stomach as Leon still somehow managed to sweep you off your feet years into the relationship.
Leon tried to pull away again after several minutes of lazily making out in the middle of the kitchen, but every time he tried you would chase his lips, never keeping your mouths separated for longer than a second.
"Baby," Leon whispered against your lips, and eventually you leaned back, but not without great reluctance.
Leon just kissed your cheek. "We should probably get back to preparing dinner, yeah?" He asked. With a pout, you nodded.
"Right." You said, remembering the poor vegetables that still needed cutting.
Before you turned your attention back on cutting vegetables though, you stepped back and took in Leon's now messy hair after your fingers had run through the strands a million times, giggling to yourself quietly. It looked like a cute little bird's nest.
"God, I am going to be all over you." You muttered under your breath. But your boyfriend's trained government agent ears picked up on your words.
"Aren't you always all over me already?" He replied, teasingly.
You added the chopped vegetables into a boiling pot as you responded. "Well, yes. But even more now. Watch out." You threw a wink his way, and Leon just rolled his eyes, but couldn't fight the fond smile from taking over his lips.
Eventually, the two of you got back into the tranquility of cooking, moving around each other almost as if dancing in harmony, a comfortable quietness filling the kitchen. At some point, though, when the food was simmering and you began cleaning up the kitchen, Leon had left for a moment. You didn't think anything of it, assuming he just needed to be off of his feet for a bit.
But then he came back, his silky blonde hair pulled into a small ponytail, some of the more disobedient strands framing his face in the most endearing way. You were wiping the counter when you suddenly froze, your face feeling as warm as the pot of stew on the stove as you shamelessly ogled at your boyfriend's good looks.
Leon sensed your staring, quickly meeting your gaze. "Something on your mind?" He asked playfully.
You wanted to throw your wash cloth at his ridiculously charming face. "Leon. You look so adorable right now. I'm going to explode."
Leon chuckled. "Please, don't. The counter will get dirty again."
You walked over to him, hitting him gently with the washcloth still in your hand before surprising him with a chaste kiss against his lips.
Eventually, dinner was served, and after the two of you ate, it was about time for bed. You both did your usual nightly routines before jumping into your shared bed, holding each other close. Leon was usually the big spoon, as per your request on most nights, but you weren't passing up the opportunity to hold his head close to your chest and to run your fingers through his soft strands.
Leon hummed contentedly, and it was so quiet you almost didn't catch it; but you did, and the sound instantly brought a smile to your face.
"That feels nice, sweetheart." He said lazily, as he was very obviously trying to fight sleep.
This man will be the death of me, you thought.
"It does?" You asked. Leon nodded.
"Mhmm." Was all he replied with, melting into your touch once more.
Some silence passed, the two of you on the very edge of being pulled into the embrace of a deep slumber, but not for long as you expressed one more thought that had entered your mind.
"You know, with your hair this length, I got some style ideas…"
"Oh yeah?" Leon replied groggily.
"Yeah. I have to see you in pigtails."
Leon's half open eyes were now fully open at your comment. A sharp laugh escaped you immediately.
"Leon, please. Do it for me?"
He shook his head, laughing along with you. But the next morning, he let you put his hair into two cute pigtails with a couple of your hairties. And of course, you took photos.
#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy imagine#re4 leon#resident evil 4#re4make#resident evil x reader#resident evil 4 x reader#leon kennedy#leon kennedy fic#leon kennedy fanfic#leon kennedy fluff#resident evil fluff#resident evil fic#resident evil fanfic#resident evil fanfiction
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⋆.ೃ JJBA SCENARIOS ࿔*:・
Masterlist here <3
genre: fluff
warnings: none
characters: passione members (again..😅)
notes: Inspired by that one trend on tiktok, also guys i have noticed that i write for passione way too much!🥲 So please give me ideas for the other parts main groups
How each passione member would react to their girlfriend calling them “husband”
Bruno Bucciarati
Bruno would be the definition of calm, but the moment he hears you say “husband,” a soft smile would tug at the corner of his lips. He’d pause whatever he’s doing and look at you with those kind, thoughtful eyes of his. “Husband, hmm?” he’d repeat, letting the word settle in the air for a moment. Then, he’d step closer to you, his fingers gently brushing against yours. “It suits us, doesn’t it?” He wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, but you’d feel his warmth, the unspoken promise in his gaze that, when he says something like this, he means it with every fiber of his being.
Giorno Giovanna
Giorno would be composed on the surface, as always, but when you call him “husband,” you’d see his golden eyes widen slightly, just enough for you to know you caught him off guard. He’d smile that soft, knowing smile of his and say, “Is that how you see me?” His voice would be gentle, but there’d be something in his tone that made the moment feel important. Giorno might not be the type to indulge in romantic gestures, but you’d know he’s thinking about it seriously. After a pause, he’d add, “I wouldn’t mind that title someday.” With him, you’d feel that deep sense of commitment—like he’s already planning for that future without even having to say much.
Guido Mista
Mista would absolutely light up. The moment you call him “husband,” you’d see his face break into the widest grin, his eyes sparkling with joy and mischief. “Husband? You think I’m that cool, huh?” he’d tease, clearly enjoying the moment. He’d wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close, probably exaggerating a little for effect. “Well, I guess I better start acting like one then!” He’d play it off with jokes, calling you “wifey” for the rest of the day and pretending like he’s doing husbandly duties, like holding doors open or helping with small things, but deep down, you’d know he’s loving the idea of being your forever person. He’d likely even mention it to the Sex Pistols later, letting them hype him up over it too.
Leone Abbacchio
Abbacchio would try so hard to play it cool. The moment you casually call him “husband,” he’d stop whatever he’s doing, his eyes narrowing as if he’s annoyed. “What did you just call me?” he’d ask, sounding gruff. But you’d catch the faintest blush creeping up his neck. He’d turn away for a moment, clearly trying to compose himself. “Don’t start throwing words like that around,” he’d mumble, but you’d notice that he didn’t actually sound mad. After a few moments of silence, though, he’d soften just a little. He’d glance at you from the corner of his eye and, in a quieter, almost hesitant voice, add, “Maybe… someday. If you’re serious.” It’s the closest you’d get to a romantic confession from him, but it would mean the world.
Narancia Ghirga
Narancia would be all over the place with his reaction, full of energy and emotion as always. The second you call him “husband,” he’d freeze, his eyes going wide as he points to himself in disbelief. “Me?! Your husband?!” His voice would be filled with pure excitement and surprise, like he can’t quite believe you’re serious. Then, as if realizing how much he likes the sound of it, his whole face would break into the happiest grin. “Hell yeah, I’d be your husband!” He’d laugh and probably throw his arms around you, lifting you up in a hug and spinning you around. For the rest of the day, he’d keep randomly calling himself your husband, testing out how it feels. “Husband Narancia, coming through!” He’d be over the moon, already imagining your future together.
Pannacotta Fugo
Fugo would immediately tense up when you call him “husband,” his face flushing as if you just dropped a bomb on him. “What did you just say?” He’d ask in disbelief, his logical mind racing. His initial reaction would be a mix of panic and embarrassment, his hands twitching slightly as he overthinks the whole situation. “You can’t just… say things like that so casually!” he’d mutter, his brows furrowed as he tries to figure out how to respond. But then, after a long moment of silence, he’d let out a soft sigh, the tension easing from his shoulders. “But… if you mean it,” he’d say, his voice quieter now, “I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.” His face would still be red, but there’d be a vulnerability in his expression, a hint that deep down, the thought of being your husband means more to him than he lets on.
Okay so I know I say this under most of my posts but I love this one soso much!!! It’s just so cute to me ugh🥹💞
If you guys enjoyed this make sure to check out my other work! And if you’d like me to write anything specific for any character/group from the parts 1-7 my requests are open! <3
#jjba scenarios#jjba scenario#jjba#jojo no kimyou na bouken#jojos bizarre adventure#jjba part 5#jjba golden wind#golden win#jjba vento aureo#vento aureo#giorno giovanna#giorno x reader#bruno bucciarati#bucciarati x reader#leone abbacchio#abbacchio x reader#guido mista#mista x reader#narancia ghirga#narancia x reader#pannacotta fugo#fugo x reader#jjba bucci gang#bucci gang scenarios
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goodnight n go (teaser)
member — fwb!vernon x reader genre — smut, angst, non-idol au teaser word count — 1.7k full fic word count — 10.2k synopsis — you keep coming back for more, but every night ends the same. maybe this time things will be different. warnings — mentions of alcohol, drunk sex, car sex, guitarist!vernon, rock band!hhu, no physical descriptions of reader, vernon is afraid of commitment. this is a teaser and the final fic will have a happy ending !! notes — before you ask, yes this is based on the ariana song lol but also inspired by black eye because it's been stuck in my head the past few days. as always, thanks to @onlymingyus for reading over this for me <3 i'm still on hiatus and requests are closed but i randomly had inspiration to write something for vernon so i hope you enjoy! i am planning on writing more for this story, but i'm back at uni and my time is already quite limited, so i'll try to write more when i can! reblogs, comments, and asks are super appreciated, it means a lot and helps me keep writing so please lmk if you liked it :)
“hey, you wanna get drinks tonight?”
as usual, that’s how it starts.
you probably should have said no. you’d played this game before. you knew exactly what hansol meant when he offered to hang out after band practice, because it was never just “hanging out”.
you don’t even know why you still go to practices anymore. for a long time you’d avoided them; it wasn’t really your style, and you were never interested in being a groupie for their local gigs. your roommate seungcheol always invited you to every practice, and every time you declined with the excuse of homework or other plans, but cheol finally convinced you to come just one time.
at first, it had been because he wanted you to hear a new song they were working on and he’d wanted to know how you liked it before they played it at an upcoming show. but then he’d introduced you to the rest of his bandmates, and after that there was no going back.
you couldn’t help the way your eyes always gravitated towards hansol, who insisted that you call him his real name instead of his stage name that everyone else called him. from the very first practice, you were captivated by him: the way his long fingers seem to dance along the neck of his guitar so effortlessly, the way his voice rasps when he sings, the way your breath catches in your throat when he grips the microphone stand and rolls his head back, lips parted in ecstasy.
he’s addictive, and it’s exactly the reason why you find yourself in the backseat of his car over and over again.
every time, it was easy to pretend that things would be different. you’d walk into the bar together and sit at the table in the back, order a few drinks, chat for a while about nothing. did you like the new stuff we played tonight? yeah, i know cheol is really excited to perform it saturday. you been doing any writing lately? mmm, a little. i’ve been feeling inspired. we could go back to my place and i could show you. except he never does.
hansol wasn’t a bad guy. he always paid for your drinks no matter how many times you offered to pick up the tab, he was polite, he listened to what you had to say. he just didn’t want more than that, and that’s where it all fell apart. you’d screw around for a while, then you’d part ways and wouldn’t speak to each other until next week. you never went to see them play shows, he never texted, you never called, never went on a real date besides meeting in the same bar down the street every thursday night after practice.
he seemed fine with that. you weren’t. and yet every time, you ended up back in his arms.
he groans into your mouth, pushing his hips into you and pinning you harder against the faded leather seats of his old honda. his lips are sloppy but eager, messily pressing his mouth into yours as his fingers tangle in the hair at the base of your neck. you can taste the beer and smoke on his breath, but for some reason it doesn’t bother you. maybe you’re used to it, or maybe it’s just because it’s him. you don’t want to know which reason is the truth.
he kisses you until you’re dizzy, and you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or from the thrill of kissing him once again. it’s a high you’re convinced you’ll never get tired of, although you’re not quite sure yet if it’s one that he will.
hansol always lets you set the pace, but tonight he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. both of your shirts met the floor of his car what seems like hours ago, leaving you in just your pants as he makes out with you as if it’s the first and last time he’ll get that chance. his fingers breeze over your waist the same way they breeze over his guitar strings when he plays: careful yet greedy, each touch intentional yet impulsive as he grips your waist.
he drags his fingers higher and it sends a shiver down your spine, arching your hips up against him and rolling your head back against the seat’s headrest. if there’s only one upside to this relationship, it’s that he’s good at this. really good. if he weren’t, then you wouldn’t have spent so many nights letting him fuck you in the parking lot of your shitty local bar. it does something for your confidence knowing that he must feel the same about you, or else he wouldn’t keep inviting you out. at the very least, this arrangement is mutual, even if you wish it wasn’t.
his hips rock against your crotch again, and even through both of your clothes you can feel how hard he is. your mind is clouded, everything’s a haze, and all you can think about is how badly you want him. the warmth of his skin, the gentle scratch of his nails on the back of your neck, his long eyelashes that flutter against your cheek as he kisses you.
you feel your hands slide haphazardly down his bare chest, fumbling over his hips as you tug on the waistband of his jeans. none of it feels graceful, not like the way he handles his music. it’s sloppy, desperate, clumsy, and it’s everything you need right now.
he manages to lean back from you enough to undo his pants and push them down to his knees, but his mouth is back on yours in an instant. somehow you end up on your back across the seats, gazing up at him with slack lips as his thin silver chain dangles over your face. you might not remember a lot of what happens on these nights when you’re with him, but you’ll always remember this moment. him hovering above you with heavily lidded eyes, biting his lip and cursing as he pushes into you, is etched into your mind in a way you simultaneously love and hate. love because it feels so good, hate because it never lasts.
the rest of those nights never stands out in your memory. you remember feeling good, you remember trembling in his arms and gasping and moaning and crying in pleasure, but the images are too fuzzy to make out. you don’t really need to reflect on them anyway; you know he’ll just bring you out next week and do it all over again.
hansol kisses you once more after you’re both finally spent, but the kisses afterwards are always different. more… hesitant, more uncertain. none of the passion and desperation that you’ve come to crave from him. not what you really want.
“i can drive you home,” he offers once he’s finished cleaning you up. for once you think he might genuinely mean it, but you can never be sure enough to take that chance. you want him to drive you home. god, you want him to so bad. to have him come over with you and stay the night, stay another night and another until your apartment isn’t just yours anymore, that’s what you’ve wanted all this time. and it’s what you’ll never have.
“i’ll call an uber,” you answer.
“i’ll wait with you, then.”
the silence that settles over his car is heavy as you climb back into the front passenger seat. you want to tell him to get in the uber with you, stay more than just a couple hours with you in the furthest back corner of the bar parking lot that’s too far to be illuminated by streetlights. you want to argue that he’s too drunk even to drive himself, that he needs to come home with you and sleep it off together in the comfort of your bed, but you know it’s not true and it won’t work. this is a conversation you’ve had many times before. every night you’ve spent with him blurs into the next, always the same.
sometimes you want to laugh at how naive you are, for thinking he’d eventually come to his senses and realize there’s more to you than a good lay before a gig. sometimes you want to grab him and shake him by the shoulders and tell him to grow the fuck up, give him an ultimatum and make him tell you what he wants from you or else put an end to it all. sometimes you just want to cry, to mourn your wasted time when you’re fully aware it’s never going to lead to something more, no matter how badly you want it and how hard you try.
no matter how many times you get your hopes up, no matter how many times you pray and beg and plead with god and the universe and every other higher power to get him to realize this can’t keep going on the way it is forever, nothing ever changes. you’re never going to stop running to him when he calls, and he’s never going to stop calling.
finally another car pulls into the lot, and you manage to pull yourself out of his car. you hear your name behind you and you stumble, swaying on your feet as he rolls down his window.
maybe this time will be different.
he says his usual goodbyes and goodnights, flashing you a loose grin and a wave as his engine sputters to life, and he asks if you’re planning on coming to practice next week.
and you find yourself nodding.
you’re left standing there, your head and your heart pounding, watching his headlights fade as he drives away, until you’ve stood there for so long that your ride starts honking and calling for you to get in the car so you can leave.
maybe next time will be different.
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Hi! Firstly, thank you for creating this blog and helping all of us out! Secondly, and sorry if this is such a silly question, but how do you write an engaging summary?
I find my own fic summaries are so… lackluster… and not even I’m interested in reading it — so how I can I expect others to be? Even if I like my story, when I write the summary in the start of my fic/in my masterlist, I’m like “Wow… this is not even remotely interesting! 😭”
So yeah, I was wondering if you had any tips/advice for that? 😭 Totally fine if not, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks and have a great day/night! 😘
HOW TO WRITE AN ENGAGING FIC SUMMARY THAT WILL DRAW IN AUDIENCES
Summaries are the bane of many writers’ existences, including my own. It’s already hard enough to get the words down on paper for the actual story, and now people want you to convince them to read it with something more than “I WORKED REALLY HARD ON IT PLEASE IT’S GOOD I PROMISE!!!!”
Squishing a ton of context into a small blurb seems impossible, but I promise it can be done!
Obviously everyone goes about things differently, and a lot of these tips may not work for everyone, but nevertheless, here are some tricks on how to write an engaging summary!
Here’s a simple template I like to use, which will be the focus of this post:
Hook (Draw the reader in!)
Context (What are the core elements of your story?)
Cliffhanger (Introduce a question/scenario that the reader will want to click to know more about!)
1. Start With a Hook
Just like with the first sentence of a story, the first sentence of your summary should immediately spark the reader’s interest.
A bold statement! A good (short) quote from your fic! A shocking discovery! A cool word definition/the definition of your title!
I always like to put the hook of the story on its own line/paragraph, just to emphasize it.
Examples of a hook (Note, these are rushed and off the top of my head. Just meant to give a general idea, not be literary masterpieces): - "It all started when Character A puked on their Uber driver." - "War was inevitable." - "Character A would be dead by sunrise. That’s what Character B vowed." - "By the time they got to the city, it was too late."
Your hook is probably the most important part of your summary; someone will know within milliseconds whether or not they will continue reading.
Once you’re past that initial hump, it’ll be easier to convince a potential reader to skim the rest of the summary. Giving something that jumps out at them will set your story apart from others and ensure it gets that click you deserve!
2. Give Some Context
For shorter one-shots, sometimes a single hook is enough! But if your fic is longer, with a bit more moving parts, you might want to choose a few highlights. Get the essence of your story on paper.
This can be super hard, so don’t feel discouraged if you feel like you’re not getting it. I’d suggest keeping your context to about 1-3 sentences depending on the length of your story, so make sure they count.
Buzzwords are a key factor in getting the main points across. Use ones that relate to your main plot to your advantage!
For example, if I were to make a short summary of Game of Thrones for someone who has never watched it before, I would definitely include some of these buzzwords: - Dragons - Conquest - Succession - Revenge - Slaughter - Betrayal
Using powerful words (i.e. slaughtered instead of killed) can help draw in your audience!
I can't dictate exactly how you should write your context, since every fic is different and shouldn't be brought under an umbrella of the same rules, so it might help to find inspiration from other people’s summaries.
3. Pose a Question the Reader Will Want the Answer To
The biggest point of a summary is the “so what?” factor. You have all of these tags, but how does the fic make use of them?
A summary shouldn’t be giving all of the answers, but it should still leave crumbs for the reader’s imagination! This doesn’t mean that you literally need to put a question in the summary, but rather pose an unresolved scenario/problem that the reader will want to click to know the solution to.
Here are some example sentence templates that pose an indirect question, often put at the end of a summary to spark interest (Note, these are rushed and off the top of my head. Just meant to give a general idea, not be literary masterpieces): - "Everything changes the moment Character A makes a choice they can't take back." (What is that choice? How does it affect the other characters?) - "As the truth comes to light, nothing will ever be the same." (What is the truth? How does it change things?) - "A dangerous game begins, and only one can emerge unscathed." (Who will be that person?) - “It’s the first time they meet, but it won’t be the last” (What will be these next instances? How do their worlds collide?)
4. Some General Advice
If you don't think the above format works well with your fic, here's just some general advice that can help you out!
DON'T MAKE IT TOO LONG
The biggest mistake I see writers making when posting their work is having a giant four-paragraph summary for their story that takes up half of the feed.
Unfortunately, in an age of fast swiping and instant gratification, a reader may skip over a super long summary simply because they don’t feel like reading all of it.
(The reason why long summaries work for books is because people are more patient when they intend on paying to read something; they’ll take more time considering investments than they would with a free read, since they want to make sure it's worth their money. It’s not fair, but that’s kind of how it goes.)
In my opinion, a fic summary should be no more than one short paragraph, two or three sentences max for a one-shot and maybe five sentences for a long fic.
This isn't exact. It really depends on the length and complexity of the sentence, because no matter the how many you use, if there are enough words to make folks comprehend it as a big block of text, then they’re going to be more likely to skip it.
People looking for long fics will be more patient (since they’re making an investment with their time, rather than money) but if you want to appeal to a wider audience that may be casually browsing and stumble across your fic, definitely consider a more brief route.
PROOFREADING MATTERS!
Because summaries are often an afterthought, many writers don’t put as much effort into it as they would the rest of their story.
I wouldn’t recommend this; people are basing their ENTIRE initial opinion of your fic on this small blurb.
If you rush it and make spelling or grammar errors, people will assume that the rest of your fic is also riddled with errors and scroll past!
Make sure to proofread!
Hope this helped, and happy writing!
#writing#writing tips#writing advice#writing help#writeblr#booklr#creative writing#fic#fanfiction#ao3#fanfic#fic summary#summary#writing summaries
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