#they’re actually sweetest out of them all but if they stare into your soul they STARE

[hanakihan]

*smacks them both* these boys can contain so much unpacked trauma

[avocado-writing]

hiii your bg3 writing is so *chefs kiss*

I was hoping you'd be able to write the companions' reactions to a bard!tav, giving them a private serenade one night. like they lead them to a clearing away from camp one night and there's a picnic set up and tav sings a song they wrote specifically for their love?

if all the companions is too many, could you please specifically do Halsin, Astarion, Minthara and Wyll?

oh, cute! going to give you a lute, as I think that’s easiest!

Astarion

he makes a comment about how he feels the picnic was a bit unnecessary as he can’t eat it, but you mention you’re his snack later ;)

you sit him down, pour him a glass of wine, and pull out your lute

you ask, suddenly uncharacteristically shy, if you can play him something.

he cocks his head to the side and nods.

your fingers dance across strings, and when you start to sing, he realises it’s a song about him.

you once offered to be his mirror, and tonight you repeat that. your song is about how lovely he is, in every way. how he’s handsome but kinder than he wants to admit. brave. fierce.

its the most sincere celebration of his character he’s ever heard, and by the end of it, he’s left shocked.

“oh…” “did you like it?” chewing your lip, nervous.

“it’s… you’re…” he really doesn’t have the words to convey how you’ve made him feel. so he gently takes your chin in his hand and kisses you.

the kiss gets deeper. the lute is abandoned. so, really, is the picnic. the music the two of you make then is of a different kind.

later, when he has time to come up with a suitable review, he will tell you how much it meant to him. you are his favourite musician, and he has a new favourite song.

Halsin

oh, he’s been around for a long time, but this is the first time someone’s done something like this for him.

he’s just sat in bowled-over silence as you play for him, and it is amazing. an epic ode to his life and kindness, how strong and handsome you think he is.

he comes closer as you sing, sitting right next to you. studying every inch of your face as you perform.

when you’re done, he tells you that it was the loveliest thing he’s ever heard.

“I’ve heard pods of whales singing as they meet up with their lost family… until now, it was the sweetest sound to have graced my ears.”

he gets you to repeat the song and turns into different animals to enjoy it, be it via vibrations or different ways of hearing. either way he wants to be surrounded by your music, and you.

Minthara

absolutely no idea how to respond.

she was brought up in a cutthroat world. this softness is new to her.

she remains quiet for a while as she tries to work out if you’re trying to get anything from her. is this a trick?

”oh, I’m sorry,” you say after a while when she’s just been staring. “did you not like it?”

”no. no, it was… play it again.”

you do, and she really listens to the lyrics. they’re about her beauty. how glad you are to have met her. her strength in battle and soul.

she’s exceptionally moved.

“this is… a priceless gift that you’ve given me. I have no way to repay you.” “I don’t need repayment. it was freely given.”

she kisses you, for she has no way else to thank you. you have moved her more than she thought possible.

Wyll

you play and he listens. his eyes and smile go wide.

absolutely enraptured. claps when you’re done, and cheers your performance. you laugh and bow for him.

he tells you how much you mean to him, what a sweet gift this is. how your love is his most treasured possession.

he reaches into his pocket… and takes out some paper.

“I… I know this is incredible timing but actually… I wrote you something, myself.”

and he starts to read out a poem.

oh, it is lovely. full of flowery verse, and sweet appreciations of you. all the little things which make him love you. you pick up your lute and play along eventually, and he gets into the rhythm too.

the two of you laugh at the fact that you both had the same idea! you’re so alike, so in sync.

he holds you tenderly, kisses you softly.

you end up writing many songs about your Blade. he is your perfect muse.

bonus:

Karlach bursts into tears when she hears it, and scoops you up into a big hug at the end. she’s so emotional. she can’t stop saying she loves you, she loves your song, all of it. lots of wet kisses for you.

Gale is rendered speechless for the first time he can remember. he just stares at you in adoration. he’s never had anyone love him enough to write a song about him before, and he full force of his affection for you hits him in that moment. he is smitten.

[gay-dorito-dust]

What’re you doing Jaime Reyes? You know staring is considered rude and unsettling.

Jaime almost felt the soul leap out of his body as a rush of embarrassment soon follows afterwards and floods throughout him from head to toe. ‘I’m not staring!’ He hissed lowly, glancing at you now and then in hopes that you didn’t see him looking nuts for arguing with thin air and not a sentient scarab. That was a sentence Jaime would’ve never thought of ever having to say internally to himself, nevertheless aloud for others within the vicinity to hear him. ‘I’m just…I’m just admiring them, nothing remotely creepy about that now is there.’

They’re the primary reason why your serotonin and oxytocin levels are on the rise, which indicates an increased level of attraction you have towards them.

‘That’s one hell of a way of explaining what a crush is.’ Jaime murmurs as he then found himself stealing a look towards you once more as a soft smile blossomed across his face. God he felt like such a little school boy with how often he found himself where he was right now, admiring you from afar, too afraid to come up to you on his own without feeling suddenly at a loss for words, whilst his breath is caught up in his throat every time you look his way; Which was so shitty because Jaime had so much he wanted to say to you, and could only wish he could tell you, and it frustrates him greatly that he couldn’t even hold a basic conversation with you without it be accompanied by a series awkward silences in between.

Why did you have to be so goddamn pretty/cute/handsome/beautiful/adorable and just overall an amazing person?!

Did you know that you had his heart fluttering at the sound of your laughter?

Did you know that you had him feeling giddy and warm whether you smile?

Did you know that you had him tripping over thin air, tripping over his words that he had sent preplanning in the mirror of his bedroom, especially when he knew that he’d have given the chance to talk to you that day?

Did you know that the moment you entered a room, his attention would firmly be on you? Even long after you’ve left, his mind would always be fixated on the period of time where he got to share the same room as you.

It’s almost as though you were a forbidden fruit, tempting him in the sweetest of ways into throwing all of his precautions into the wind and actually allowing himself to properly live life the way that he wants.

Jaime? Are you listening to me?

…

Jaime?

…

This is such pathetic behaviour, Jaime Reyes.

‘Hmm?’ Jaime finally awoke from his daydream the moment the Scarab uttered his name. ‘Were you saying something Khaji-Da?’

…other then how pathetic I find your pinning and your lack of action in regards to your ever growing attraction towards this y/n? No, no I wasn’t.

The scarab was completely done with their host and his inability to take action. How can he sit there and complain about never being enough for you when he had yet to even try to engage in deeper conversations with you?

It was becoming a little too ridiculous for the Scarab and soon an idea formed, maybe there was a way to help Jaime after all. All he needs was a nudge in the right direction, and that’ll be all he needs in getting to you without having to bother tackling the unnecessary things that might come with it.

Now all Khaji-Da had to do was figure out how they would set this plan in motion and be done with Jaime’s pinning for good…

[starstruckodysseys]

reese’s mallapalooza masterpost

by which i mean a general mallapalooza masterpost but i’m kind of the only one over here rn so. we ball

hi. it’s me, reese, your local mallapalooza enthusiast!! i’ve written enough mallapalooza fics that i figure i should make… some sort of compilation of them as an explanation. mostly for myself tbh so that i can make sense of my own stuff

the polypaloozas !!

the venn diagram of curses and crushes - a technically canon compliant, semi fix-it, getting together fic full of vague 90s references by an 05 baby and teenage crushes

i would be anything for you - post-canon. arguably the most canon of these actually. also lowkey meta. dylan and brittany make a film, win an award, and find their friends (and then some) again

i don’t care (but i still stop and stare) - the gang dyes their hair. gay shit ensues. technically no one said this is canon divergent as canon is a whopping 39 whole minutes

as we make paper aeroplanes out of all your broken hearts - brittany falls in love, again and again and again. she tries to get over it. it doesn’t go very well

okay i really thought there was more like. non au shit up here. huh

non polypaloozas !!

count my lucky stars - brittany/vanessa. vanessa has freckles, brittany is the world’s most disastrous bisexual, and the boys are zero help ever

i hope we kiss goodnight (it might just end my life) - dylan/tyler. in a fit of panic, tyler asks dylan to help him practice kissing. dylan is always weak for his boy. things do not get less complicated from there

fit yourself between my arms; tuck yourself into my soul - brittany/tyler. yes i think they deserve so much love. tyler hates his job, his mom, and kind of his life. brittany does her best to change that. model/stylist au

vamp au !!

also known as the aftermath of shooting stars

sorry about the blood in your mouth (i wish it was mine) - tyler/vanessa. tyler’s a vampire, vanessa’s a vampire hunter, they’re childhood friends. follows the path of their friendship throughout the years

thirsty for blood (actually craving for love) - polypalooza. vanessa develops a crush on her two other friends, has a couple near heart attacks, and realizes some things about herself

cut my heart off of my sleeve - polypalooza. dylan is a wolf, which is technically relevant. mostly about vanessa’s insecurities, and the way her favorite people help her with them

like the sweetest cup of chai-verse !!

(a series in which vanessa and bryce become besties and make it everyone else’s problem)

you just needed a confidant - vanessa & bryce, vanessa/brittany, also bryce/clark bc that’s technically relevant too. vanessa signs up for miami university’s cornhole team and somehow gains a best friend out of it

masters of the scene - vanessa & bryce, and a bunch of other shit happening in the background. vanessa gets framed for murder, bryce is the world’s best moral support, and their partners are also there. they solve crimes and stuff. ties this series in with the jkeu!

[songbird-sunrise]

Ooc: Hmm you don’t have to answer this publicly it can just sit in your ask box or something else I don’t mind.

I havent actually been following songbird!wilbur for a significant amount of time, really, the impact was being friends and sometimes friends of friends of people who were running the anonverse and bedrock verse. I feel like I’m overstating my connection, I’m often just following bloggers who are friends with the rp ers, and they are some of the most passionate people they’re totally insane and I love being witness to it

hell, I only started following a couple of months ago, and I didn’t even see whatever meat of conflict that has happened. I’ve just watched it unfold on my dash whatever’s been happening. I don’t think I’ve even sent in an ask.

so that’s to say, I have such a lack of connection to this story, no complex history, no deep understanding, which makes it so much more impressive that the little parts I’ve seen are so emotionally beautiful to me. Even just like the blog header. I’ve been hearing about this story for so long that part of it is the thrill when I do figure out something that’s happened

but more of it? Maybe even most of it? Is because of how much dedication and soul has gone into this story. There is a reason that so many people are passionate, there is a reason that some days I see more fanart of songbird on the dash than like cwjlbur or ccwilbur combined. Because you have made something exquisite with this story and what an honour right? To bear witness to it, even this late, even this far behind.

I think the message, the little scraps of it that my colander brain (system lol) can pick up and I think the message of that. Getting better. Finding community and trust. Finding yourself. I think it’s wonderful.

(What’s embarrassing is that i am for all intents and purposes a fake fan </3 not caught up on any lore I just stare at your header and feel Emotions, so all of this could be entirely 10000% wrong which is why it’s a bit of a like… maybe don’t publish it but perhaps I deserve public punishment for being a clown on anon and sharing emotions)

so yeah uhh you’re amazing I love your rp character and I hope to one day be one of the people posting about them when a particularly cool thing happens. I thank you and applaud you for the amount of work that you have put into this story. Good job. Happy new year to you and happy new year to songbird!wilbur too.

what an exquisite thing I get to see, what could I feel other than honour.

-rib

OOC: Ohhhh my god. oh wow. oh holy shit. this is like the sweetest thing I've ever gotten wtf

usually I don't get very sentimental on here ooc but hey. I'll do it for today

it's been a bit rough writing on songbird-sunrise lately. Nothing I write feels good, and it all feels like such a chore most days. But hearing that you, someone who only recently got involved, loves this silly little character I've made so much absolutely warms my heart. It reminds me of why I do this in the first place

songbird-sunrise is, in a way, my love letter to the dreamsmp and c!wilbur. I know you said your analysis on songbird's themes was probably wrong, but you're actually completely right. We want to show the messy, complicated, hard, and beautiful parts of healing and finding yourself. And the fact that it's conveyed to you without even seeing everything is just. fucking amazing. it's nice to have a direct reminder that I'm actually good at what I love to do for lack of better words

all this to say, thank you. thank you for sending this ask, and thank all of you out there. Whether you're an old fan, a new fan, someone who sends a lot of asks, someone who likes to lurk, someone who makes art, analyses, all of you. thank you, and I promise that there are still some big things planned. The journey of healing is never over, and really, songbird!Wilbur is just beginning :)

-holly and wilbur

[diaphragmjellyfish]

I Have This... Thing

Not My Gif

So as someone with vaginismus, it’s sometimes frustrating to read fan fiction, specifically smut. Y/N always has sex so easily and with very little foreplay, finishing with no issues. And it’s so great for people who can do that, but it’s not the case for all of us. Some of us can’t have any sort of penetration without pain. Some people can’t finish without toys, or hours of work. Some people will never be able to have penetrative sex. There’s all kinds of people, and there’s all kinds of sex. But not near enough fics featuring Y/N’s with these issues. So I’m going to write some, and feel free to request any issue with any character, and if I don’t know that character, we can collaborate to find a character you like that I do know. 

Paul Lahote x reader smut. 

You had lived in Forks for about 6 months now. You’ve known your new friends here for 5 months. And you’ve been the imprint of Paul Lahote for 3 months. Well, you’ve been his imprint since you guys first locked eyes at La Push when you first hung out with Emily, but he didn’t tell you about the whole werewolf/ imprint thing until 3 months ago. Safe to say it came as a shock. Your friends, the people who had welcomed you so easily, helped you move furniture around, and gave you tours of the new town, were WOLVES. Or engaged to wolves. *cough* Emily *cough*. You had to take a few weeks break from them after they told you. After Sam explained the legends, the lore. After Paul told you that you were basically his soul mate. It’s a lot to take in! 

But you quickly realized that you had grown to love the pack. And now that you knew the big secret, things were easier around them. No more lies about where they had all been. No more avoiding talking about their mysterious injuries that only seemed to last for a couple hours. No more awkwardly dancing around why Paul stared at you constantly and wouldn’t let any other guy get within 6 feet of you without having a rage attack and sprinting into the woods. Things were going good. 

Well… as good as they could be without sex. Yep. You and Paul had been together for 3 months and you have not had sex. You didn’t give each other head. You didn’t take your clothes off around each other. You didn’t even dry hump. And you knew it was your fault. You could tell that Paul was getting nervous about the fact that you wouldn’t let him touch you like that. He would never ask you about it, because he wouldn’t want you to feel pressured or rushed, but you could tell it was on his mind. The little sad smile he would give when you stopped things from going further. The hover of his hands over your ass before landing back on your waist. The way he looked almost guilty after looking at you in a swimsuit or crop top. 

See, vaginismus made relationships difficult. You never had a long term relationship before Paul. You were either too scared to tell partners about it, and just dealt with the excruciating pain, which would lead to resentment and breakups, or you would tell them and they would ghost you. Guys don’t normally go for girls who’s opening line is “Hi! I cannot have sex without crying.” You’d been dilating for almost a year now. It was going okay. Some days hurt more than others. A lot of times, Paul would ask you to hang out when you were in the middle of your physical therapy, and you would have to make up some excuse as to why you couldn't. Too tired. Headache. Stomach bug. He was starting to catch on. 

One day, you guys were hanging out at your apartment watching a movie. You had been making out, but as soon as it started getting slightly heated, you had pulled away and got up to get a drink refill. Paul, having gotten used to the routine, didn’t question you. While you were in the kitchen pouring some more juice, Paul asked “Hey babe? Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah it’s in the top drawer of my bedside table,” you haphazardly yelled back. 

You heard him get up and go into your bedroom, rummaging around a little. Then silence. 

“Hey babe?” he said hesitantly. You thought he just couldn’t find the charger, so you began walking towards your room to grab it for him. Once you got to the doorway, you stopped dead in your tracks. Eyes wide. Face bright red. Paul held up the dilator you were currently on, which was about 5 inches long and looked… well let’s be honest. It looked like a dildo. The bottle of lubricant that was also in the drawer didn’t help your case. How the fuck were you supposed to explain yourself? You expected Paul to tease you, make some sex jokes, and maybe try to make out with you again, but he didn’t. He looked absolutely crushed. 

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” He asked, sounding on the verge of tears. 

“What?! Paul, of course I want to have sex with you!”

“Then why this?” he pressed.

“You don’t even know what that’s for. Let me explain,” you pleaded, afraid he was going to lose that infamous temper. You’d never witnessed it before, but you were scared you were about to. 

“I think I have a pretty good guess about what this is for!” He exclaimed, holding it up. “You won’t even let me kiss your neck but you have this that you obviously use when I’m not around. You don’t want to have sex with me. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Paul! That’s not true at all!” You were starting to get irritated at his assumptions. “It’s for physical therapy.” 

“Oh, is that what we’re calling orgasms now?” He questioned, exasperated. 

“I’m not talking about orgasms! If you gave me two seconds to explain, you would know that that does not bring me an ounce of pleasure. I hate having to use it.” You started to tear up at this, all the memories of your struggles surging back up. At this, Paul stopped. He looked super confused, but also worried about you. God forbid you shed a tear, Paul would rip the world apart to make you happy again. “Come sit down,” you said, resigned, as you moved to sit on the edge of your bed. Paul, still holding the dilator in his hand, sat down next to you. The silence seemed to last an eternity, but you knew that the longer you went without explaining, the more hurt Paul would feel. 

“I wasn’t lying when I said it was for physical therapy,” you whispered. “I have other ones. All different sizes.” You realized you might not have been helping your case with this. 

“I don’t understand. Why do you need them if you don’t use them to get off?” He looked like a kicked puppy. 

“Well… I have this thing. It’s like… a condition? And I need them so maybe one day I can have sex without any pain.” He still looked wildly confused, and you knew you were going to have to elaborate. “When I first started having sex, it hurt. A lot. But I always heard that it was supposed to hurt the first time. So I just kind of put up with it. It was bad though. I always tapped out, couldn’t go for more than a couple minutes. It felt like this really intense stinging. Like a rugburn all inside me. And it didn’t stop, even after I started doing it more. It never went away… I ended up googling it, and it’s actually something that a lot of women struggle with. I made a doctor’s appointment and was lucky enough to get diagnosed the first time. Lots of women are told they’re making it up. My doctor gave me these dilators, told me how to use them, and said that with enough time and physical therapy, I could have painless sex one day.” When you finished, you turned to look at him. He was staring intently at the dilator, thinking. 

“So, you have to like… stretch yourself? Were you just born too small?” He phrased it delicately, but you knew what he meant. 

“Basically, it’s an anxiety disorder with very physical symptoms. My pelvic floor muscles constrict when I try to put anything inside me, which makes it super painful. It’s like an involuntary reflex. Like blinking when something flies near your face. And I have to condition my body to learn that penetration doesn’t hurt, and that it doesn’t have to tighten up like that. The condition is called vaginismus. You can google it yourself if you want.” 

“Oh.” A pause. Paul knew you had some anxiety, but he never guessed it could cause something like this. He knew you were embarrassed. He could tell. And the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you couldn’t be open and vulnerable with him. Did you think he would leave you? Or get mad? “Why didn’t you tell me?” Was the question that came out. 

“It’s humiliating. I could tell you were getting antsy about us not having sex, and I guess I didn’t have the heart to tell you that it’s not going to happen anytime soon. This physical therapy, it takes a while. I’ve already been doing it for almost a year, and I still have three sizes after this one.” A tear fell. You wiped it away quickly, hoping he Paul wouldn’t notice, but he did. He moved to wrap his arms around you, putting the dilator back on your nightstand. He embraced you, and the reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere was more than you could handle. You burst into tears as he pulled you onto his lap and rocked you both, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You guys stayed there until you stopped crying, and then he finally spoke. 

“Y/N, I don’t ever want you to feel like there’s something you can’t tell me. I love you. And yeah, I would love to have sex with you one day, but I’m with you because of who you are. I don’t care if we never do it. You are my person, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you the happiest you can be. This? This thing you think is such a problem? It’s irrelevant to me. To my love for you. And I will be here every step of the way, supporting you, cheering you on, until you don’t want me anymore.” He brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed it. 

“I love you, Paul,” was all you could say. You leaned in and shared the sweetest, most loving kiss either of you had ever experienced. His hand cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing your cheek. When you pulled away, the tension in the room was gone, replaced with you and Paul’s usual light, fun energy. 

“How do you use them?” He smiled as he asked, nodding his head towards your nightstand where the dilator still rested. “Do you like… just ride them? Or..?” 

You laughed, which made his smile broaden. “It’s not a sexual thing. Basically I put a towel down, cover the dilator in lube, and put it in as far as I can without pain. Then, I just sit there and leave it for like 20 minutes. And then I take it out.” 

“So you just like... do homework while you do it?” His concerned face made you laugh again. 

“You have to make your body associate it with pleasure, so no, I don’t do homework. Normally I’ll watch a funny show or eat some candy or FaceTime you.”

He froze at this. “You do this when we FaceTime?” 

This made you blush and look away from his piercing gaze. “Sometimes. I can stop if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s just a nice distraction.” 

“No, no. I don’t want you to stop. It’s just… can I see you do it?” This question shocked you. Not just the question itself, but the fact that you didn’t hate the idea. You loved kissing Paul. What better way to associate therapy with pleasure than by kissing him while you do it? 

“Are you sure? Like I said, it’s not exactly sexual. Or sexy. Like at all. I literally just sit there.” 

“I know, it’s ok. I want to be able to help you, but if you don’t want to we can just go back to the movie.” 

“I mean I do still have to do it today.” You thought for another second, before jumping up and saying “Okay. Let’s do it.” 

Paul looked happy and excited, but also lost. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, or with his eyes. Did you want him to touch you? Or just watch you? Or just sit in the corner of the room and face the wall? You were spreading a towel across the middle of the bed, and went to untie your sweatpants before looking at him. 

“Guess we haven’t really gotten this far, huh?” alluding to being naked in front of each other. It did make you a little nervous, and nerves equal tight muscles, which means pain. 

“Why don’t you put a blanket over yourself? That way there’s less pressure,” he suggested, and you could have kissed him for it. You smiled, nodded, and grabbed a throw blanket from the chair. He turned around to face the wall while you took off your pants and settled under the blanket. 

“Ok, I’m good.” you said. He turned back around, coming to kneel beside you on the bed. 

“Do you want me to just… hold your hand? Or sit here and talk to you?” 

“Would you want to sit behind me?” You suggested nervously, leaning forward slightly. 

“Of course! Yeah, I can do that.” He took this seriously, and you appreciated that. This was a scenario you had thought about many times, and though you knew he wouldn’t be the type to ask you to have sex with him despite the pain, it was always a possibility. The fact that he didn’t take your pain lightly, and let you be in charge so you would be comfortable, meant more to you than he would ever know. Paul gently climbed behind you, putting his legs on either side of you, and hesitantly rubbing your shoulders. You leaned back into him, as if to say I’m okay with this.

“Can you hand me the… “ You nodded your head towards the nightstand, and Paul didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence before he leaned over and grabbed the dilator and bottle of lube, holding them out in front of you both. You muttered a “thanks” as you took them from his hands, and brought them under the blanket. After slathering the dilator with a good amount of lube, you closed the bottle and tossed it towards the foot of the bed, leaning back and shifting your hips down. Paul clearly didn’t want to overstep his boundaries, so he was slow and careful as he wrapped his arms around your torso, giving you time to say stop. You didn’t, though. He felt your body tense slightly as you dragged the tip of the dilator around your entrance, so he started to rub his hands up and down your sides, kissing your cheek. You turned your head to look at him, and he met you with a sweet kiss. You guys pulled away slightly, before going back in as you began to push the dilator in further. He kissed you with love, tenderness, and care, so as not to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. It was clear that you had the reigns, and Paul would stop as soon as you gave the slightest indication that you were uncomfortable. The dilator was about half way in, and you felt a slight stinging sensation, but kissing Paul distracted you. You brought one hand up to cup the side of his face, pulling him back in. 

Paul kept kissing you, waiting for your lips to part so he could brush his tongue against yours. This is normally where you would stop him, but he knew everything now. There was no expectation of more, and damn. Paul was a really good kisser. He sucked lightly at your lower lip, before nibbling it and letting it go, coming back in with his lips. The combination of Paul’s kisses, the slight heat they brought to your body, and the pressure of the tip of the dilator inside you had you shift your hips, and involuntarily let out a small moan. It was barely audible, but Paul and his super senses heard it. You pulled away and slapped a hand over your mouth, your face turning bright red. He chuckled deeply, the sound going straight to your body, and brought his hand up to pull your hand off your mouth. “Don’t you dare hide those sounds from me,” he teasingly whispered into your ear. You shivered, and Paul started to kiss your cheek, down your jaw, and onto your neck. He sucked on the soft skin, hands squeezing your waist and rubbing up and down. You wanted to try something. For the first time, dilating actually didn’t feel so obligatory, so mechanical and stiff. You pushed the dilator deeper in, just about a centimeter, but enough to give you that feeling you had moments ago. You let out a breathy sigh as you tilted your head to give Paul more room on your neck. He felt you shift your hips again, and brought one of his hands to rub circles on your lower stomach. Skin on skin. And it felt good. 

You kept going like this for a few minutes, and Paul could feel your skin grow hotter by the second. Your back was arched, your neck covered in light red marks, and Paul had the intense desire to see you unravel. He brought his lips from your neck up to the side of your face, getting as close to eye contact as he could in this position, and said “Can I touch you?” 

You knew what he meant. The thought of it made you nervous. No one had touched you without it hurting before. It was almost as if he read your mind when he followed with “I can just stay on the outside…” Oh. You could be down with that. You turned your head to him and nodded. 

“Just try not to touch the dilator,” you said softly. You trusted Paul. He was already being so kind and patient with this, and you knew he would die before he would ever hurt you. The hand that had been rubbing circles on your stomach travelled lower. Lower. Lower. Until he could feel the slight stubble of a past shave, and then your soft, wet skin. You gasped as he touched your most sensitive parts, even more so because of how turned on you were. He gently made small, tight circles over your clit, your eyes rolling back in your head as you fell completely slack against him and let out a moan. A real moan, that Paul swore he would never forget. And he made you make that sound. It only spurred him on. He applied slightly more pressure, but not so much as to overwhelm you. And he knew that when girls were feeling good, the secret wasn’t faster or harder, but to keep doing exactly what you were doing. So that’s what he did, and it had you writhing. Your moans kept coming, and your legs had started to shake. However, because it felt so good, your muscles had started to clench around the dilator, and it was beginning to hurt. 

You didn’t want to rain on the parade. It was going so well. But Paul being the attentive lover that he is, noticed you begin to tense up in a new way. He brought his hand back up to your stomach, concern racing through his brain, and asked “Are you okay? Does it hurt?” 

“It’s kind of starting to. Not you, the dilator. I think I might take it out.” You stared down at his hand still touching your stomach. Such beautiful hands. You didn’t want it to end. 

“Do you want to try a smaller one? Or do you want to stop?” He questioned. 

“I really don’t want to stop,” you laughed. He breathed a laugh as well, and waited for your direction. You had a thought. Paul’s index finger was smaller than the dilator. Much smaller. If you just told him what to do and what not to do, that could feel really good. “Would you want to maybe… Nevermind.” You got nervous. 

“Hey, hey. No. Don’t do that. Tell me what you want,” He brought a finger up to your chin and moved your face towards him. “Tell me. Whatever it is, Princess. It’s yours.” Your whole body shuddered at this. He’s never called you that before, and to say it did something to you would be an understatement. 

You let out a breath, gathering courage, and said “Would you want to… use your finger?” 

He stopped at this. “Like, put my finger inside you? That wouldn’t hurt?” 

“I don’t think so. It’s smaller than this,” you said, bringing the dilator out and up. “And as long as I tell you what to do, it could be really good,” you said the last part shyly. 

“Okay, Princess. I can do that. How do you want me to do it?” 

“Try to do more… pressure, and less… friction? Like try not to go in and out so much, but you can move it around inside.” Your face was once again blushing intensely. 

“Anything you want. You just have to promise that you’ll tell me if it even hurts a little.”

“I promise.” You said it confidently enough that Paul brought his hand back down under the blanket. He circled your clit a couple times, making you shiver and release a breathy sigh, before moving his middle finger even lower, circling your entrance. He gathered some of the lube that was there from the dilator, coating his finger, and you brought your hand down to hold it, guiding it inside you at a speed that was comfortable. It was smaller than the dilator, so he was in you in 15 seconds. He stopped, and gave you a minute to adjust. Your hips writhed again because of how turned on you were, so Paul brought his other hand down and began circling your clit again. Your head fell back on his shoulder as you began to moan again, hips moving even more now. Paul took this as his queue to press his middle finger up against your inner wall lightly, causing a loud moan to leave your mouth. You were too far gone to be embarrassed. 

“There you go, baby,” he praised. God, this was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He was barely touching you, barely moving his finger inside you, and you were a mess. He had been rock hard since you guys started, but your ass was rubbing against him as you moved your hips, and he released a small growl at the feeling. This only turned you on more. He kept moving his finger in you the same way. Pressure, not friction. Pressure, not friction. He kept telling himself this. He wanted to finger bang you into oblivion, but the risk of hurting you was too high, so he kept up with rubbing the tip of his finger against that spot on your upper wall, in a “come-hither” motion. Your moans began to get higher in pitch, your body tensing even more.

“Relax your muscles for me, sweetheart,” he encouraged, and you did. Your release was approaching rapidly, and you wanted to grind against his hand, but you didn’t want to risk pain, so you trusted Paul to get you there. You were panting, hips shuddering, face scrunched, as your climax hit you like a wave. Your legs shook as you opened your mouth in a silent scream, and Paul carried you all the way through it. You came down, and lightly grabbed his wrists. He knew that that meant stop. So he slowly withdrew his finger, brought it up to his mouth, and sucked on it. Head still up in the clouds, you watched him, slack-jawed, as he popped his finger out and moaned. “So sweet,” he purred. Watching him suck on his finger like that made you think of something you’d like to suck on, and you looked down at Paul, still rock hard, and turned around in his lap. 

“Let me return the favor,” you said with a smirk.

[lov3nerdstuff]

I've got you

*James Conrad x reader*

Parts: Oneshot/Drabble

Words: 1.7k

Prompt: "Imagine being on Skull Island (or somewhere equally as fucky) and Conrad shines a flashlight out into the darkness, only for several pairs of eyes to reflect back. His hand tightens around yours and every muscle in his lean body tenses. That deep voice gets low and quiet, warning you not to run. The second you try to bolt--because duh-- he tugs you against his firm chest and his lips are on your ear."

A.N.: This is a gift for @hopelessromanticspoonie who had this idea yesterday 💚✨ She (and her lovely anon) deserve some Conrad goodness! I hope you guys enjoy this quick little snippet 🖤 I am actually writing a longer Conrad series currently, but that will still take a while ☺️

______________________________

The low growling sounds outside your tent should have been warning enough, had they already sufficed to wake you up in the first place. If not that, then at least the distant screeching that carried through the cold night air at a bone-chilling frequency, haunting echoes in your mind filling the silence in between.

You should never have left your tent, should never have come on this bloody excursion to the middle of nowhere in the first place! But of course, you just had to be curious and go check on the noise by yourself instead of waiting for one of the men with the heavy guns to take care of it. Just had to prove to them that you weren't just the frail and frightened little thing they saw in you no matter what you did. You had to prove it to him. James Conrad, the man of both your daydreams and sleepless nights. Gods, you had been falling for him from the first day of this doomed mission. Him, with his incredible blue eyes and that unforgettable voice that could put the fear of God into every soul when he bellowed commands across any battlefield, and that yet would recite Shakespeare in the softest flowing melody like he was born to do nothing else. A voice dipped in liquid sin that should not be uttering compliments like languished breaths in the dark. Not without unravelling you softly in the sweetest torture known to man.

Well, you should have gotten a grip on yourself and your pathetic insecurities and just told him how badly you'd fallen for him days ago. Now, however, you were going to die lonely and frustrated, a mere hundred yards away from the well protected camp you'd been stupid enough to leave. Great job, idiot…

The same growling that had woken you up was all around you now, louder, so much louder than before and you couldn't believe that you had been so stupid to walk into this trap of… whatever was lurking in the darkness around you now. You didn't dare to move, didn't dare to make a sound… and simply clung onto the childish belief that if you couldn't see what was stalking you right now, it couldn't see you either. Not that you would've been able to see much anyway, with the stream of tears that was running down your cheeks now.

"Y/n! Are you out of your mind?! You shouldn't be out here alone in the middle of the night!" Conrad's scolding voice behind you, in that delicious British accent nevertheless, sent an immediate shiver down your spine, but unfortunately for more than one reason this time around. Gods, he was here… you only hoped that he had come as your salvation and not a second course to the hidden predators' nightly meal.

"James… They're everywhere, in the darkness… I'm so sorry." You whispered in a tear laced voice, too far frozen in your fear to turn around to him even when you felt his radiant presence coming up right next to you. So close that his warmth was almost seething on the chilled skin of your arm and shoulder. Gods… you had been so stupid indeed; you were absolutely bloody frightened and helpless out here, who had you been trying to fool!

When Conrad finally switched on his flashlight to shed some literal light onto the darkness ahead that you were still staring at relentlessly, you barely held back your startled scream by biting down hard on your bottom lip. There were eyes, so many eyes that reflected the light right back at you from the undergrowth in a glowing hollowness that spoke of nothing but hungry fixation and thus, impending death. Conrad next to you tensed in an instant, every muscle in his lean body coiling in a display of controlled strength, preparing to fight and defend himself. Or rather to defend both of you, for not even a broken second later his hand wrapped tightly around your lower arm as if purely on instinct, and your breath caught in your throat in return. A few deafening heartbeats long you both stayed frozen like that, until slowly, painfully, deliciously slowly, his hand slid down your arm to hold your hand instead, interlacing your fingers with his in the same unfaltering, strong hold.

"Don't move…" He drawled under his breath, commanding you with the deep tone of his voice alone to surrender his will no matter what he said. Thus you could only clasp his hand in a death grip in return, breath coming out in shallow pants as your heart thundered in your chest like the storm approaching in the distance.

And yet, when another loud growl announced that these beasts were drawing closer to you still, almost up your neck already with their teeth or claws sunk deeply into your tender flesh, the sound startled you so far beyond your reason that your flight instinct grew unbearable at last. Every fibre in your body burst in panic, and you bolted without thought, without reason, but you did not get far. Fast as lightning to match the thunder in your heart, Conrad's arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you flush against his chest, holding you tightly against his strong body while your excess adrenaline merely caused you to whimper into the soft fabric of his shirt.

"Shhh... I've got you." His voice was surprisingly soft now, reassuring and calming almost as if just to soothe your fears, while the gentle brush of his lips against the shell of your ear caused you to shiver for entirely different reasons. A soaring heart and tingling exhilaration made for an odd mix combined with the prominent fear of death, but in the end it only heightened your every sense to the incredible. If you were to die now, you at least would do so wrapped up in the arms of the man you loved. La petite mort, only in the opposite direction of what you would have wanted for him and you.

"James…" You breathed into his chest, desperately trying to keep yourself from trembling too noticeably, which only made him tighten his hold on you with a sharp intake of breath.

"Shush now, darling, and listen to me…" He replied in an equally quiet tone, still staring into the hollow eyes of death with his head so closely next to yours. "I will throw the flashlight ahead into the forest as far as I can to cause a decent distraction, and then you and I will run back to camp without turning back. We should be safe behind the barriers we've set up. Do you understand?"

You nodded slowly with a shuddering breath, then turned your head ever so slightly to glance up at him with all those sharp lines of his stern features, while at the same time he dropped his arm from around you and instead took a tight hold of your hand again. Then in the matter of broken seconds, he threw the flashlight as far away from your path as he could, and finally dashed off back towards your camp while pulling you along by your hand. You were quick to comply, running as fast as you could while your lungs burned all the more, but both Conrad's death grip on your hand and the howling behind your back made for a magnificent motivation to keep running either way.

The hundred yards still were torture to your mind and body, but even without the light you could see the barriers drawing nearer and nearer. When you finally reached the gate of the improvised defenses, Conrad didn't waste any time to rush you through before it was barred off from the inside right behind you. The howling, however, remained right outside before the gates and still made your blood freeze over even now from the safety of your camp. Good gods… you really had cheated death. Again.

Panting, you finally dared to look up at Conrad once more. He was still clutching your hand as if he was afraid you would vanish if he let go, and when his burning gaze met yours in that undivided intensity, you couldn't keep your lips from trembling, nor your words from spilling over at last. "I'm so sorry, I… I really didn't mean to cause you so much trouble, I'm so sorry, I just… wanted to prove to you that I'm worth your-..."

You didn't get any further when his hand rose to cup your cheeks with a start, elegant fingers entangling in your hair as he pulled you close to him and pressed his lips to yours in every bit of passion and urgency you had been yearning for for so long. It took you but a broken second of surprise before you melted against him with a faint moan, returning everything he gave you and everything you had beyond. This was heaven… A heaven you were granted only after surviving in hell.

When you finally pulled back, both breathless far more thoroughly than just from your run, Conrad leaned his forehead against yours so very gently, and yet refused to release you from his incessant hold. "You are worth all there is and more, darling. I can bear absolutely anything for you, and with you, you must know that. All except for losing you."

"I'm so sorry." You breathed, eyes closed as you revelled in the roaring waves of unadulterated affection washing over both of you now. "You won't lose me, I… I won't let that happen. I've got you just the same."

Your words brought a smile to his face, you could feel it all around you, could feel it against your lips a second later. He wasn't a man of many words, you knew that, but the ones he spoke were always the most beautiful and honest to his soul. So you did know indeed, you both had each other and that was all you would need.

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General Tags:

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[theskywaslookingback]

tma fic recs please ? 🤲🏽

Oooooo yes! I never get asks like this, thank you!

[my tumblr fic recs tag is here for browsing]

I had to put it under a cut because it got...entirely too long barely half an hour into making it, sorry.

Under 5k

means of cartharsis by orphan_account [G] [965]

“You’d think – you’d that at this point nightmares would be second nature for me, hm?” Martin says, forcing a smile even as he tugs the blanket tighter around his trembling shoulders.

It’s meant to be a bit funny. Instead of laughing, though, Jon frowns.

“No,” he says simply, and matter-of-factly wipes the moisture from Martin’s cheeks with a tissue like he’s a crying child.

A Proper Sleepover by Goodluckdetective (scorpiantales) [T] [1.4k]

In a different world, one where Elias is not waiting for them outside the Lonely, everyone has a chance to savor a moment of respite. As much as they can get these days. If only to talk about things that long need to be spoken.

“Basira says we should all sleep in the same room tonight,” Jon says without looking up. “Safer. So we can keep an eye out for intruders and also each other.”

“So we’re having a proper sleepover then?”

Jon scoffs. “Technically we’ve been having a proper one for months.”

where i go, when i go there by rainny_days [T] [1.7k]

Martin wants Jon to hold his hand. Martin doesn't want Jon to hold his hand.

It's complicated.

all the other ways by AptlyNamed [G] [2.2k]

Jon loses his first soul mark when he is eight years old.

a palace from ruin by bibliocratic [G] [2.2k]

"What're you sorry for?” Martin asks.

“I should have asked,” Jon says finally. “I'd never.... you were always so private about him, so I mean, at first I wasn't sure he was even yours, but then – when you, when you went with Peter, and I – he was so small, and I thought he was h-half-dead. S-so I picked him up and I carried him. And I'm sorry.”

interiors by doomcountry [T] [2.7k]

In the doorway, he fumbles with his keys. Their sound is loud in the silent stairwell. You don’t remember getting here.

searching for a light (for a right) by Kalgalen [T] [2.7k]

Some people make the mistake of assuming he's naive about sex, for the simple reason he hasn't dated in a while. Tim has called him a prude, at one point, and implied that he was somehow afraid of the intimacy required by the act; he wasn’t entirely wrong, but this definitely isn’t the reason for Jon's disinterest and general bafflement toward what most people seemed to consider as "what makes them human".

Jon simply hasn't found the right person. That is all it is: high standards, and a reticence to let people in.

(In which Jon finds out society is wrong about what a romantic relationship should be.)

how to plant a garden in rocky soil by treeprince [T] [2.9k]

Sometimes you just need a good pair of hands to work out all the kinks in your life.

Good thing Martin has two.

A Weather In The Flesh by cuttooth [G] [3k]

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

*

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

I'll bring the motion by callmearctus [T] [3.1k]

A long series of kidnappings and international flights leaves its own special mark on someone. Before the Unknowing, Jon is a mess.

Martin helps.

A Bread Made In Heaven by Againstme [G] [3.3k]

Martin moves over and watches how his boyfriend handles the dough. He's awkward with it, tentative and gentle, as if he's scared of hurting it somehow.

"Is this, uh, am I doing this right?" Jon asks, still slowly stretching out the dough and folding it onto itself.

"Well," he says shifting closer to Jon again, "you could be applying more pressure. Here, let me help you out, dear."

Martin moves fully behind Jon, and reaches around him, putting his hands on top of his boyfriend's. Jon inhales sharply, but doesn't say anything else, just lets Martin's hand rest on top of his.

Martin's hands are bigger, but not big enough to entirely envelop the other's hands, and Jon's hands are much, much warmer than his own are. To see what they're doing, Martin moves his head to look over Jon's shoulder. Though he can't see his boyfriend's face from this angle, he can see how it is slowly growing red at the edge of his vision. He decides not to tease him on it, instead content with letting a smile spread across his face and slowly guiding their joined hands in the proper motion.

Or, Martin teaches Jon how to make bread.

stumbling and spinning by lady_mab [G] [3.3k]

“Things happened,” Jon says demurely, trying to untangle Gerry’s fingers, but it only results in him getting pulled in so Gerry can kiss him properly. “It’s not all that bad.”

“I suppose not,” Gerry says with a sigh, sitting back upright. “You somehow managed to snag an incredible boyfriend out of it.”

It takes a solid few seconds before realization clicks in Martin’s brain. “You mean me?” [...]

“You have to admit, Jon has great tastes,” Gerry teases.

nothing sweeter than local honey by beeclaws [T] [3.4k]

So Tim is content, one arm leaned into the spray, waiting for the water to warm, enjoying the feeling of homecoming underneath the gentle fuzz of jetlag, when he hears gasping, panicked breaths coming from the other room.

Tim and Jon, in the aftermath, relearning how to be okay.

When Words are Inadequate by Mugatu [T] [3.8k]

Meals and the preparation of are, for want of a better word, informative. Fact gathering. A place where they can fill in the gaps of their knowledge of the other.

Jon cooks for Martin, and they learn more about each other.

go softly by doomcountry [T] [4k]

And there is nothing else besides this.

Imago by cuttooth [T] [4k]

“Jon?” he asks tentatively, tightening his grip around the poker as it slips against his sweaty palm. The antennae twitch, and suddenly Martin knows that it’s Jon, the knowledge sliding into his mind in a surge of desperate affection, the same profound love he felt that first time he truly saw Jon in the fog of the Lonely.

“Oh,” he whispers. “It really is you.”

*

Jon changes, but he’s still the same to Martin.

shoreline by bibliocratic [G] [4.1k]

“Martin," Tim says kindly, tipsily, only mildly slurring. "Dearest, dearest Martin. You're wankered, babe. Last train to Stockwell fucked off hours ago because it is now piss off o'clock in the morning, and there's a sofa with your exact name on it at my place. Thought you said you wanted some handsome fellow to take you back to his tonight?”

Or: The OG Archive crew go drinking, Martin comes out, and gets some well deserved TLC. In that order.

get your epitaph right by bibliocratic [G] [4.2k]

Martin's daemon has tried on the shape of dogs and lizards and snakes and horses, and even – once, when he was younger and Mum took him to the seaside, a fish.

Martin's never seen his soul in the dressing of a spider before.

i've known the warmth of your doorways by beeclaws [T] [4.2k]

'I’m always in pain, Jon wants to say, even as he dismisses the thought as melodramatic. Between his growing collection of old wounds and scar tissue, the supernatural hunger for statements that hasn’t been truly satiated in months, and the unpredictable aches and strains his body threw off day by day long before he ever set foot in the Institute, some level of pain and discomfort follows Jon wherever he goes now. He is used to being in pain. He’s not used to someone holding his hand as he suffers through it.'

Jon catalogs the comforts he receives, and wonders how long he will be allowed to keep them.

lay down your weary head by Zykaben [T] [4.6k]

Jon has been running himself ragged, searching for every scrap of information he can possibly find about the Unknowing. He's exhausted and sleep-deprived but he can't bring himself to take a break, not now.

Luckily, Tim and Martin are there to make sure that their boyfriend gets the care and rest he needs.

only the sweetest words remain by bluejayblueskies [T] [4.6k]

This isn't how things are supposed to go, right? Jon remembers those ratty paperbacks from the charity shops, dime-a-dozen romance novels with broken bindings and yellowing pages and words that spoke of love and passion and sexuality in prose that was more than a bit too mature for someone whose age hadn’t yet reached double digits. Stolen glances turn into dinner dates turn into passionate kisses turn into…

Well, he’d never actually read those parts of the books, because it had all seemed so deeply uncomfortable and gross. But he got the picture.

Or, Jonathan Sims, on being loved

5k-20k

and they keep not letting go by Marianne_Dashwood [G] [5k]

It’s an electric feeling, something strange and new and familiar all at once, even though he has been holding Martin’s hand for most of the day. His stomach swoops, like he is standing on the edge of the precipice of realisation and staring into the void of unknowing. But at the same time, he does know. In this instant of contact between them, the last few years of cups of tea and small smiles and momentary glances, of panic and fear and only feeling safe with Martin’s solid presence in the room, despite his paranoia, rush into him, and oh, oh oh.

ready to call this love by yewgrove [G] [5.6k]

How is Martin supposed to tell Jon that he panicked, stupidly, when the lovely old lady down the village asked him what they were doing in this part of the world? Got the shopping! Oh, by the way, we're married now! Whole village thinks we're on our honeymoon, hope you don't mind!

Prenons-nous la main by luftballons99 [T] [6k]

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

This Must Be The Place by cuttooth [T] [6k]

“You said – you said we were going home,” Martin says softly.

“I did,” says Jon, and is grateful that Martin doesn’t comment on him calling the Archives home. “I – I don’t really know where to go. I, uh, I don’t have a flat anymore, I don’t think. We could find a hotel?”

“Let’s go to my place,” says Martin. His hand squeezes Jon’s, more gently than before. Most importantly, Jon notes, he doesn’t let go.

*

Jon and Martin go home for a little while.

Small Things, Simple Acts by ZaliaChimera [T] [6.6k]

Even after leaving London, Jon and Martin are not free, not really. Maybe they never will be.

But for now they can be themselves, and maybe in the end, that's enough.

house by tomatoes [G] [9k]

Martin can take care of himself.

roses, roses, roses by acetheticallyy (judesstfrancis) [T] [9.3k]

Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses.

a deeply annoying child by ajkal2 [G] [9.6k]

Jon is hiding under the desk.

----

There's a child in the Archives, who shouldn't be there.

Inseparable by voiceless_terror [T] [10.3k]

“You can stay.” The voice interrupts his internal panic, and he looks over to find Jon studiously avoiding his gaze, staring hard at a neighboring bush. Martin wonders what caused his sudden change of heart. “But you have to sit on the other side. And don’t talk to me.”

Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood meet as children. Some things change, others do not.

i'm almost me again, you're almost you by gruhukens [G] [12k]

After a second Jon steps in towards him, close enough that Martin flinches, but all Jon does is put two fingers under his chin with his free hand and raise it until Martin can’t duck away. Jon has never touched him so casually before – at least, not until today, and it raises a lot of thoughts and feelings that Martin is trying very hard not to process.

Much like a lot of other things that have happened, he thinks. Not that it’s horrible or terrifying or numbing like everything else has been: it’s just another thing on the list of things he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.

---

In the wake of the Lonely, there's a lot that Martin doesn't really want to think about.

hello my old heart by firebirdsuite [T] [15.8k]

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Over 20k

The Kindness of Strangers by TheOestofOCs [M] [23k]

It was easier to treat Jon like a monster when he wasn’t shivering against his back, brokenly humming—wait, was that…

“Are you trying to do ‘Hey, Jude’?” Tim demanded.

Jon stopped, stiffening. “Mm hrmh mm mmh hm,” he said defensively.

“You really can’t hold a tune, can you, boss?”

*

It was just an ordinary walk to a restaurant. Tim had insisted that if they were going to talk, there would be no tape recorders or weird Archives ghosts listening in. A bit of fresh air wouldn’t kill him, Tim had said. What could go wrong?

By the time Jon spots the white delivery van, it’s much too late.

The Stranger kidnaps Jon. Tim comes along for the ride.

Misjudged by ShastaFirecracker [T] [36.5k]

Martin's been a longtime listener of What the Ghost, so when Georgie gives a shoutout to her flatmate's Twitch channel during a Q&A, he checks it out - only to discover that her flatmate is also his most terrifying coworker at his new job. The first time they crossed paths, Jon yelled at him for incompetence. But on the streams, Martin sees an entirely different person - someone fun and relaxed, engaging and unfairly attractive. Over time, Martin begins to find that Jon buried inside his dour, awkward coworker. He also learns to live with the fact that his crush is painfully one-sided... or is it?

if we make it through the night everyone is gonna hear us (Series) by skvadern [Ratings Vary] [42.4k]

In which Sasha survives the NotThem (with a little help from a certain Distortion) and she and Jon spend s2 working together to try and make sense of everything that's happening to them. It goes...interestingly

the garden of forking paths by bibliocratic [T] [49.7k]

Whatever he had predicted might happen, Jon wasn't expecting to survive upon demolishing the Panopticon. He certainly wasn't expecting to be rescued.

Instead, he wakes up in an alternative universe where he's never been the Archivist, and Martin Blackwood doesn't exist.

Martin Blackwood wakes up somewhere else entirely.

it's only forever by lady_mab [T] [50.9k]

“The castle at the center of the labyrinth,” Jon breathes, recalling again the words from one of the past conversations with Martin. “He’s there.”

“Turn back, Jonathan,” the Goblin King says, and Jon is surprised to hear a slight edge of desperation in the tone. “Turn back before it’s too late.”

“I can’t,” Jon answers with the same tone. “You know that I can’t.”

The Goblin King’s grin is gone completely, and he regards Jon with a degree of pity before that melts into resignation.

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey [T] [53.3k]

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

A Home For What Loves You by TheWrongShop [T] [151k]

It was completely fine that Jon was following up on this very normal, non-supernatural statement at midnight on a Friday. He was going to find nothing at all, and then he was going to go home and sleep for fourteen straight hours and feel absolutely no qualms about moving case #0150409 directly into the filing cabinet marked "discredited".

Or; Jon and Martin end up investigating Carlos Vittery's basement and finding the entity formerly known as Jane Prentiss together.

RATED E *MINORS DNI*

A Look And A Voice by cuttooth [E] [6.9k]

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Jon asks bluntly, and for a second Martin can’t breathe.

“It - it doesn’t matter what I - ” he begins valiantly, before Jon interrupts him.

“Because I want to have sex with you, and frankly it doesn’t matter if you think it’s for the wrong reasons. I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions. The only thing that matters is if you want to as well.”

*

Martin meets a guy in a bar and takes him home.

Warms The Coldest Night by cuttooth [E] [11k]

"Flame that warms the coldest night Bring to us the waxing Light, Be with us on Solstice Night." Gypsy - Bring Back The Light

There is mistletoe hanging in the doorway to the Archives when Jon gets in.

Curiosity by ShastaFirecracker [E] [11.6k]

“You know that conversation we had the other day about how one of the most important things for queer youth to learn is that it's okay to change their minds, because identity and self-discovery are always fluid?”

Behind him, Martin slipped oven mitts over his hands and pulled open the oven door. The scent of garlic and rosemary flooded the kitchen. “Yeah?” he said.

“I, um... I'd like to revisit the topic of sex.”

At the Interim (Series) by Rend_Herring [E] [41k]

A Measure Outside the Lines and The Residuum

triptych (Series) by Stacicity [E] [44.9k]

A collection of Jon/Tim/Martin fics

a steady hand, a delicate man by callmearctus [E] [52.8k]

Martin is the proprietor and manager of a very discrete and fairly exclusive brothel situated between Belgravia and Chelsea. Blackwood House excels at special requests and pleasing any client.

Except for Jon, who probably has never been pleased a day in his entire life.

Despite that, he still comes back. It eventually begs the question: how do you solve a problem like Jon Sims?

[jamaisjoons]

half a heart ⤑ knj | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you and namjoon have always been the best of friends; who just happen to be in love and are refusing to do anything about it. 〞best friends to lovers. childhood friends to lovers. idiots to lovers.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: namjoon x reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 19.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: empHASIS ON THE IDIOTS TO LOVERS, pining, god there’s so much pining, namjoon is the sweetest man and this fic will ruin all other men for you, slight jealousy, slight possessive!namjoon, soft dom!namjoon, big cock!namjoon, sub!reader, biting, marking, grinding, dry humping, dirty talk, nipple play, nipple sucking, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, riding, soft sex, i am in love with kim namjoon, some deep dicking because its not a sol fic for joon without this, creampie, slight cumplay

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: there’s honestly so much fluff in this and that is a testament to how much i love Kim namjoon papa bless,

⏤ thank you to my sweet beans @peekaboongi​ and @shadowsremedy​ for beta reading this for me ♡

⇥ part of the mixtape series

Decidedly, there have been many days in your life. Some happy, some sad. Some you remember better than others while others fade away into the back of your mind. Some are ingrained so deep in your mind that when you close your eyes, you can see every detail as if it’s currently happening. None, however, do you remember more clearly than the day you met Namjoon. It had been almost two decades ago; when you were five, and he was six. You remember being nervous - your parents had just moved to Seoul - and unlike your small port town of Yeosu, you had no friends, nor did you know anyone.

Seoul had originally felt like an adventure, but actually moving there had been a lonely experience. Tall skyscrapers dwarfed your form, and life moved as fast as its people - unlike your sleepy hometown. Thus, when your mother had brought you to the park, you’d clung to her skirt - too afraid to venture out and speak to anyone. Closing your eyes, you can still see the faded metal of the monkey bars, hear the tinkering laughter of children running around and smell the sweet scent of the Bungeoppang stall that was nearby.

It had all been incredibly overwhelming back then, and you’d only hidden further behind your mother’s legs. Until - you’d spotted a boy, as lonely as you. A fond smile curls on your face as you remember Namjoon’s little frame. With chubby cheeks, curious eyes, and dressed in little shorts and a bright red t-shirt, he’d sparked your own curiosity. Unlike the other children, he wasn’t running around, or climbing the slide, or even hanging from the monkey bars. Rather, he sat crouched on the floor, intrigued brown eyes staring intently at the bushes as he stuck his hand into the shrubbery.

Unable to stop yourself, and completely enthralled by his curiosity, you’d approached him hesitantly. The moment he had felt your presence behind you, he’d hushed you, his face twisted in concentration. His harsh shush had almost sent you running - scared that he’d yell at you for coming close to him - but instead, you’d stayed rooted to the spot - too engrossed in his actions. All of a sudden, he’d yelped in triumph and pulled out his hands.

Immediately, he’d turned to you and with the brightest smile - eyes full of wonder and the apples of his cheeks bunched together - he’d proudly shown you the little green frog he’d caught. And that one action - that one smile - had sealed it between the two of you. Ever since then, Namjoon had been your best friend. Woefully, to your utter despair, it turned out that his family lived a good forty-five minutes from you. But that hadn’t stopped the two of you - no. Still, every day, the two of you would meet up at the park and go on little adventures - Namjoon’s pudgy hand holding onto yours.

Nostalgia cascades through you as you continue mulling over your relationship with Namjoon. You’ve lived twenty-four years, and throughout the vast majority of it - Kim Namjoon has been your only constant. Even as you grew up, the distance had meant nothing to you; you’d always made time for each other. Your childhood had been filled with wild adventures and borderline ridiculous experiences: Namjoon dragging you out the comfort of your home so that the two of you could do whatever stupid thing his enigmatic mind could think up. Consequently, that very same enigmatic mind is the exact reason for your current situation.

It’s the middle of the night - the air cool against your skin, even with your large puffer jacket to keep you warm. Currently, you find yourself on the rooftop of your building and as usual, like most of your memories, Namjoon is beside you. Just a few minutes ago, he had burst into your bedroom. Carelessly, he’d thrown you your jacket before dragging you onto the roof of the building. Of course, you’d tried to protest, but you’d never been able to deny Namjoon. Not when he looked at you with those sweet, warm coffee eyes of his.

Thus, you’d let him - albeit reluctantly - pull you to the top of your apartment building.

Sitting on the bare, cold tile - you look at him expectantly. Mild annoyance twists your features; though, that’s more due to the chill of the wind, and your grogginess, than anything else. It’s nearly the end of summer: the foliage of the trees starting to fade from vibrant greens to tamer shades of bronze and gold. On the horizon, you can see the stark, vivid neon lights of Seoul’s skyline - the city still buzzing with life. However, in your smaller neighbourhood - away from the main bustle of the town, it’s quieter - darker.

The thick tarp of night blankets the sky: painting it midnight blue, and starks twinkle within its hold: scintillating like the clearest diamonds. Despite the ambient chill, you find yourself relaxing: your shoulders deflating imperceptibly. Knees pulled to your chest, you wrap your arms around your knees and stare at the sky. For as long as you’d know, you’d loved the night sky - its dark embrace nothing short of comforting. More than that, you loved the stars - you loved coming out at night and just drinking in their radiance; their distant coldness soothing your soul.

You’d always thought there was a certain loneliness to them. They look beautiful: glinting magnificently beside each other while they hover in the upper stratosphere. But you know better - each and every one of them are millions of light-years apart from the next - each more sequestered than the one before. Really, you know they have no sentience - and in fact, most of them are already dead: completely burnt out by the time you can view them. And you know they can’t feel their solitude: they’re nothing but burning clusters of gases and atoms - combusting in a breathtaking display of light. Nevertheless, it’s still something you take an odd comfort in.

“Why did you bring me out here, Joon?” you finally ask, turning back to your best friend. You watch him grin brightly at you, the deep wells of his dimples indenting in his full cheeks, but you know Namjoon. In fact, you know him better than you know yourself. Thus, you see the slight hesitant insecurity swirling in his usually soft,  brown eyes.

“You had a bad day- and it’s night time,” Namjoon replies, his voice a little hushed. With a deep sigh, you glare at him. It’s almost three in the morning, you’re tired and a little cranky. Of course, it’s not like he woke you up or anything - he’d seen that your bedroom light was still on and that you were sadly moping in bed, curled under the covers as you scrolled through social media. Mainly because he was right, you did have a bad day. Work had been exhausting, someone from your team had misplaced some important figures and your boss had yelled at you for it in front of everyone; completely embarrassing you, even though it wasn’t your fault.

Exhaling deeply, fatigue evident in your sigh, “Joon- can we not do this now? Whatever you want to do, let’s just do it some other time. I’m tired, I’m cold and I just want to go back to bed,” you breathe out. Immediately, Namjoon shuffles closer to you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he tugs you into his chest.

Petulantly, you keep your shoulders stiff - fighting his pull. However, when his calming scent: fresh cotton and soft floral notes - the mix of his fabric softener and lotion, wafts across your senses, you reflexively find yourself turning putty in his hold. Relaxing in his embrace, you let his strong arms envelop you, taking comfort in your best friend’s cradle. Instinctively, Namjoon places his chin onto your head, tucking you further into him.

Knowing you’re fighting a losing battle, “Joon,” you mumble wearily.

“Just give me a couple of moments okay? I promise you’ll love this. Let me explain - and if you still want to go to bed, we can, alright?” comes his soothing words. The dulcet tones of his voice fill your eardrums, his chest rumbling lowly under your back. When you don’t say anything, Namjoon continues, “You had a bad day, but it’s a clear night tonight. You love watching the stars.” There’s no real emotion in his voice - his mouth uttering the statements plainly. Not that it really needs any emotion - they’re all basic facts.

Seeing where he’s going with this, you sink further into his embrace. Trust your best friend to drag you out on a cool summer night, just to stargaze, because you had a bad day. You love him. You really do. Tiredness brushed aside, you wriggle in his hold slightly and tilt your head, so you can look up at him. Namjoon shifts, putting a little distance between the two of you as he looks down at you. His face is incredibly close, his breath fanning your lower chin: so sweet you can taste him on your lips.

“Are we just out here to watch the stars?” you ask, a light teasing inclination lacing your voice.

Namjoon hums lowly, before cocking his head to the sky. Arms tightening around you, his voice turns low - and deep - the shallow timbre of his voice easing your soul. “As long as I’ve known you, you have been in love with the night sky - and the stars. Especially the constellations, and their myths, and their stories…” Namjoon begins, his warm gaze trailing over the vast cosmos above you. Then, he pauses before turning back to you. His eyes are alight with tenderness and a slight streak of knowing mischief, “but you’ve never actually been able to point out any of them,” he continues with a low chuckle.

Hearing his words, you scowl slightly before playfully smacking his soft belly. Never being able to actually make out a genuine constellation - other than Orion, because really, that one was easy - had always frustrated you to no end. You’d tried - really, you’d tried - but every time you’d look at the stars, you’d get lost in its overwhelming expanse, and consequently, those bright clusters would blur together - like a pile of glitter dust.

“Did we come out here just so you could tease me?” you butt in, pout evident in your voice. Namjoon exhales heavily in amusement, before tapping his chin against your forehead.

“No- that’s just an added bonus,” Namjoon laughs. Scowl deepening, you stick your tongue out at him. Large hands skim down your body before twisting around your waist and pulling you further into his body, “I learned them for you,” he suddenly breathes out.

Pausing, your features twist into an expression of confusion, “huh? Learned what?” you question.

Namjoon’s fingers flex above your stomach, a sign of his nervousness. From your head resting below his chin, you feel, and hear, him swallow thickly. “I learned them - the constellations. I learned about their positions and how to locate them. Just so you can tell me about them,” he confesses.

Floored by his admission, you instantly jerk off of him. Turning around, you stare at him with wide eyes, your gaze trailing over his face as you take him in. Gazing into his soft mocha eyes, you can’t help but find yourself sinking into their depths. Two decades. You’ve known Namjoon over two decades, and yet - somehow his eyes are the same. You remember them clearly from when he was younger, the pools of liquid chocolate shining just as they did back then. If you were being cheesy, you’d liken them to the stars you love so much: the brown irises twinkling as if those coffee depths held the stars themselves.

Except - they’re not the same. Unlike the cold, distant light of the stars, Namjoon’s eyes are dynamically bright, wonderfully expressive, and so full of tender love and warm affection. Sometimes, they sparkle with curiosity - and other times, they glint with an enigmatic knowingness: as if he knew all the secrets of the world. Right now, there’s nothing but kindness, and earnestness in his eyes, mixed with a little hesitance, and just the sight of it has your heart clenching, overwhelming emotion welling up inside you. Throat tight, and mouth suddenly dry, your face crumples as you take in the sight of your best friend.

His muscles are completely relaxed as he sits on the concrete tile of the rooftop - strong arms now braced on the ground as he leans back. Silhouetted by the dark blanket that is the night sky, he somehow looks bigger, and with his dark hair falling into his eyes, and an inkling of nervousness painted in his tender eyes, your chest tightens. Swallowing thickly, you shuffle closer before laying your head on him.

Automatically, as if the movement were ingrained in his muscles, his arms wrap around you, and gently, he pulls you backwards - until you’re both laying down. One of his hands moved to rest under his head - cushioning his skull - while the other lazily curls around you: the gesture second nature to him. With your head on his chest, you naturally entwine your fingers with his, before laying it on your stomach. Staring up at the sky, you point at a random constellation.

“Which one is that?” you ask, pointing to a random group of twinkling orbs. You thinkit’s a constellation - but really, it could just be an obscure cluster of stars.

Namjoon laughs, his chest reverberating endearing under your head. “You know, it’s kinda hard to know which one you’re pointing to when you just point at a random spot,” he teases. With a pout, you let out a slight huff, making him laugh again.

“How about this - I’ll point them out, and you can tell me about them?” Namjoon asks. Nodding eagerly, your entire body buzzes with excitement.

“That one’s Hercules,” Namjoon says - pointing to the sky before tracing a series of complicated geometric shapes in the air.

Baulking, “no! Joonie- oh my god, pick a different one. Hercules is so boring- everyone knows his story,” you whine. At your words, Namjoon bursts into laughter - the slightly high-pitched sound causing your face to soften. Focusing on the sound, you let the light laughter wash over you, the sound putting you at ease.

“Alright, alright. That one is Cassiopeia. Tell me about her,” Namjoon says - moving his hand down and tracing a zigzag over some brightly coloured stars.

Eyes lighting up, “Oh she’s cool! Well- not really. She was a queen and she claimed her daughter, Andromeda, was more beautiful than the Nereids. As a result, Poseidon-” you begin, before going off on a tangent. Throughout the entire story, Namjoon pays you the utmost attention - listening attentively as you animatedly regurgitate one of the countless myths you’ve got memorised.

When you're done, he points out another one - Draco this time - and with a soft pout, you explain that Draco was part of Hercules’ twelve labours. However, rather than making him change, you begin retelling the myth. Through it all, Namjoon listens quietly, and eventually, you grow tired, your voice turning wearier and wearier as you begin mumbling.

You’ve only just finished recounting the supposed myth of Corona Borealis - commonly known as the Northern Crown, and how its story is tied to the myth of Theseus and the minotaur. When your voice trails off and quiet fills the atmosphere once again. Namjoon's hand is still entwined in yours, and lazily, you play with his fingertips - simply watching the night sky and how the stars slowly pass over you. Perfectly content with the stillness around you, you’re happy to sit and bask in the comfort your best friend offers you: his arm casually over your body and his steady heartbeat under your head.

Then, all of a sudden, “have you ever loved someone?” he asks. Freezing under him, you tilt your head to look at the bottom of his jaw. Briefly, you wonder what spurred on the question - it’s completely out of the blue. “Sorry, it’s just- most of those myths had some sort of romance, and like, I was just wondering. You can ignore me,” Namjoon mumbles under his breath.

Sucking in a sharp breath, “I mean- I love you,” you choke out. Namjoon sighs, his fingers tightening around yours before you feel him shake his head.

“No- I mean like, have you ever been in love?” he asks, and from your position on his chest, with your head tilted up, you vaguely see the way his eyebrows knit in puzzlement. Pausing briefly, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and chew on it. That is what you’d meant. You have no delusions about you - you’re in love with your best friend. You’re not really sure when it had happened, but somewhere between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, you’d lost your heart to your best friend - and you’d never asked for it back. Nor did you ever really want it back.

Briefly, you wonder what would happen if you confessed your feelings now. “I-” I have those feelings for you. It would be so easy - to just spill the words that have bubbled up at the back of your throat. However, you can’t bring yourself to do it. So, instead, “I guess,” you softly finish.

You don’t have to confess your feelings.

At least, not yet.

Soon, autumn rolls around the corner, and mid-October, you and your friends decide to take a much-needed vacation from both universities: Jungkook in his final year, Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin all in their masters, and from work: you, Seokjin, Yoongi and Taehyung needing to recuperate from the stress of office life. Thus, your entire group decided to pool as much money together as you could, and take a spontaneous trip. Though, with half your friendship group still being broke university students, your holiday spots were sorely limited.

Nevertheless, deciding a weekend trip was the easiest - and probably the cheapest. You and your friends find yourself in a cabin nestled in the woods near Seoraksan National Park. It’s a quaint location - privately owned by an old couple who’d bought it in their prime - surrounded by trees and a little neighbouring stream. However, the lot of you had yet to explore any of the trails. Especially considering its late evening - all of you only arriving an hour ago.

“Can someone come and help me for a moment?” Seokjin calls, his voice echoing from the kitchen.

From your seat on the sofa, nestled comfortably between Namjoon’s thighs as you rest against his chest, you look around the room. Jungkook and Taehyung are in the middle of what seems to be an intense game of Jenga, Hoseok and Jimin cheering them from the sidelines. On the sofa opposite the one you and Namjoon are occupying, Yoongi is practically falling asleep - and you know he needs the rest: having pulled a double shift at the radio station he works at. Noting the way you shift, Namjoon lets out a whine of protest, his bulging biceps tightening around you as he tries to keep you in his arms.

Laughingly, “Joonie- you need to let me go. I’m gonna go help Jin,” you say as you try wriggling out of his grasps.

Namjoon only lets out a grunt of protest, “I literally stopped reading because you practically crawled into my lap, and this is the thanks I get?” he grumbles in mock petulance. Exasperated sighs escaping your lips, you untangle yourself from his embrace - Namjoon finally letting go of you, albeit reluctantly. “You owe me for this,” he groans as he stares up at you. Rolling your eyes, you bend over to the book he’d dropped on the ground when you’d practically smothered him with your body, and playfully throw it onto his stomach.

“Well, go back to reading then, you big baby,” you laugh. Then, not waiting for his response, you skip towards the kitchen in order to help Seokjin.

Mid-dinner preparation, and from your position besides Seokjin, you see Namjoon skulk into the kitchen. He’s got his hands buried into the large pockets of his grey hoodie, a small pout on his face. Ignoring his presence, you turn back to Seokjin, nodding with laughter as he continues animatedly talking about an incident at his office.

“And then, he literally takes his fish soup - which smells off by the way - and eats it like nothing's wrong. Literally, sitting with his shoes off and feet up on another chair! Completely ignoring the fact that the entire break room smells like a fish market and as if Yeojin wasn’t just watching him with her jaw open,” Seokjin finishes.

Letting out a loud guffaw, “no! He didn’t, oh my god. What did Yeojin do after that?” you ask, as your laughing body leans into Seokjin.

Taking a seat by the kitchen island, Namjoon’s eyes wander over you and Seokjin - his eyelids narrowing slightly at how close the two of you are standing. Seokjin is leaning slightly into you as he stirs the pot, your own body braced against his in a fit of giggles. Stomach dropping to the pits of his abdomen, and with a slightly soured expression, “what are you laughing about?” Namjoon asks as he approaches you.

“Oh, Jinnie was just telling me about these two people in his office. They keep fighting and Yeojin pissed Minki off, so he decided to eat fish soup in the office - knowing she hates the smell,” you reply simply, letting out a little laugh as you remember the story. Namjoon frowns when he watches you smile easily at Seokjin, your eyes alight with carefree happiness.

Pout deepening, he slips his arms under yours before wrapping them around your waist and pulling you into his chest. Angling your head up, you look at him curiously before laughing, “you okay, Joonie?” you ask. Despite your question, however, you smile brightly and instinctively sink into his embrace. From beside you, Seokjin looks at the two of you in exasperation, and after giving Namjoon a pointed, knowing look, turns back to his own task.

Really, Seokjin muses to himself, Namjoon could not be any more obvious with his feelings - or possessiveness. In fact, neither could you - the two of you practically glued at the hips. For as long as he’s known you both, the two of you have been like this - and yet, you’re still somewhat oblivious to the other’s feelings. After another shake of his head, he sighs in exasperation again before continuing to stir the pot.

Namjoon hums, placing his chin onto your head, “hmm. Uhh... yeah, just wondering if I can help?” He slowly asks.

Snorting, “absolutely not. You’re too much of a hazard risk here. Just go sit with everyone else,” you reply. Swiftly, you place the knife down and wriggle in his arms: unwinding from his grasp. Then, bracing your hands on his strong chest, you begin pushing him out of the kitchen.

“What- no, I can help,” Namjoon protests the entire time you push him. However, you refuse to be deterred.

“Nope! The last time you did that, you burnt your hands trying to drain some noodles. I love you Joon, but you don’t have a lot of common sense in the kitchen. Just go read your book. Seokjin and I are almost done anyway,” you say as you finally shoo him away. Your best friend lets out a little huff, but does as you ask. You watch as he sulks off, dropping to the couch huffily before he crosses his arms and pouts quietly. Shaking your head, you turn back into the kitchen - ready to finish up.

As you’d said - in another ten minutes, you and Seokjin are done. You help Seokjin carry the piles of dishes into the living room - deciding to sit around the coffee table and eat. When you place the last dish, you turn around to your best friend - only to see that he’s still pouting. With his strong eyebrows furrowed, his cheeks slightly puffed out and plush lips pursed, he’s the most adorable expression of frustrated petulance you’ve ever seen.

Grabbing one of the pieces of fried chicken, you plop yourself down beside Namjoon. Sullenly, Namjoon turns away from you - even as you hold out the chicken as a peace offering. Watching his reaction, you bite your lip and place the piece of chicken back down onto the table. From beside you, Jungkook looks at the two of you curiously, a piece of tempura prawn already halfway into his mouth.

“What’s wrong with Joon-hyung?” Jungkook questions, pointing his chopstick at your best friend.

“He’s mad ____ kicked him out the kitchen,” Seokjin replies simply before slurping his noodles.

Ignoring them, you place your hands on either side of Namjoon’s cheeks and squeeze them together, you turn his face towards you. “Joonbug, I’m sorry,” you say as you look at him with large eyes and an exaggerated pout. The corners of Namjoon’s lips twitch, causing you to let out a cheer of triumph. “I saw that! You can’t be mad at me anymore,” you practically shriek.

“That’s not fair! You know you look ridiculous when you pull that face, how am I supposed to stay mad at you,” Namjoon bemoans.

However, you’re already shaking your head and loudly smacking your lips, “nope,” you reply - harshly popping the ‘p’. “Too late. You love me,” you continue.

Eyes softening, Namjoon nudges you with his shoulder before reaching for a piece of chicken, “Nah- I’ve just known you for so long, I can’t get rid of you,” he retorts.

“Oh please, we all know you love me,” you snort back. And then, without thinking, you reach over and smack a wet kiss against Namjoon’s cheek. Playfully, he pulls a face before rubbing at the wet spot on his cheek and wiping it on your shirt excessively.

Before you can reply, “Oi! Can we just eat without you two being gross for once?” Jimin cuts in - throwing a cushion at the two of you.

“Yeah dudes, some of us are trying to eat,” Taehyung chimes in.

Namjoon and you still all of a sudden, completely taken aback by Taehyung and Jimin’s words. Matching identical expressions of surprise plastered onto your face, you both sputter at the same time, “what’s the supposed to mean?” Hearing the synchronous, twin cries out outrage, you both blink owlishly before turning to each other.

Scoffing playfully, “That’s what we mean,” Yoongi chimes in.

Hours later, you and Namjoon sit up in bed. With the room swallowed by darkness - the room is merely lit up by the soft ambient lights of the bedside tables and the soft streams of moonlight peeking through from under the heavy cotton curtains. Buried under the covers, with the sheets tucked under your lap, you practically lay on Namjoon’s chest: relishing in the way his chest rumbles under your head. When Namjoon lets out a sudden high pitched noise, you can’t help but let out a peal of raucous laughter.

“Oh my god, J-Joon that was s-so bad,” you choke out, wiping the tears from your eyes.

Playfully pinching your side, Namjoon pouts, “hey! Personally, I thought it was a very good elephant noise,” he replies haughtily.

Raising your eyebrow, “in what world is that an elephant noise? It sounded like you were blowing a very bad raspberry,” you reply indignantly.

“Oh like you could do better?” Namjoon drawls snarkily. Jaw dropping to your chest, you look up at him in mock ire.

Then, eyelids narrowing playfully, you crook your elbow over your mouth. “Oh, watch me,” you reply - easily accepting his challenge. However, just before you can blow into the skin of your elbow - there’s a knock at the door.

Rather than waiting for the two of you to answer, Yoongi is already opening the door. The two of you wince, your eyes squinting as the stark white lights of the corridor break into the soft golden ambience of your bedroom. “Do you both ever sleep?” Yoongi mumbles as he shuffles into the room.

“Coming from you that’s pretty rich, Yoon,” you reply back, a playful grin on your face. Yoongi tuts, however, before he can say anything, he simply stops and takes in the sight of you. With your head laid on Namjoon’s chest, his body propped against the headboard, and the sheets comfortably draped around your bodies, you look the epitome of an old married couple; and he’ll never understand how the two of you aren’t together yet. Friends don’t act the way the two of you do - and even best friends aren’t as close as you both are. In fact, he knows if he were to take the covers off you both - neither of you would be wearing pyjama bottoms.

Choosing to ignore your comment, and how ridiculously at ease the two of you are together, “Yeah, whatever. It’s almost sunrise and we were thinking of going up the hill just outside Seoraksan Park and watching it, if you wanna join us,” Yoongi says as he scratches his ear.

“Wait- what? Sunrise? Already?” you ask, as you sit up in bed. Namjoon follows your movement, sitting up straighter as you both glance at the clock on the table next to your bed.

“Fuck, have we really been awake the entire night? How? What have we even been doing” Namjoon asks, turning to you with the most adorable look of perturbation you’ve ever seen. Not having an answer to his question, you simply shrug your shoulders. Staying up early into the morning was a common occurrence where Namjoon and you were concerned. Somedays, you don’t even remember what you’d talked about or what you’d done - you only knew that you’d spent the entirety of the night with him by your side.

“How the fuck do you not know the time? Or what you’ve been doing- you know what, it doesn’t matter,” Yoongi begins ranting only to stop. Taking a deep breath, he sighs, “Are you guys coming?” he breathes out.

Looking at Namjoon, you quirk your eyebrow at him. Yoongi watches as the two of you simply watch each other - and neither of you says anything, yet he knows somehow you’re both still having an internal conversation. Then, in a borderline creepy manner, you both turn at the same time and nod.

“Yeah, just give us a moment to get dressed,” Namjoon says as he pushes the sheets off of your both. Yoongi frowns, diverting his eyes immediately - because just as he’d predicted, both of you are dressed in just t-shirts and your underwear.

Exasperated sigh falling from his lips, and with a shake of his head, “Just meet us by the door,” Yoongi calls out as he exits your room.

Namjoon turns around to you, and with a quirk of his eyebrow, “What do you think is up with him?” he asks.

Shrugging, “honestly? No idea,” you reply.

Pulling your jacket closer around you, you shiver at the early morning chill: goosebumps prickling over your flesh as the crisp squall kisses your skin. Shrouded in darkness, the night sky looms over your group of friends as you carefully walk over the cobbled stone pathway. Large, slippery slates of stone litter the area: the boulders covered in a light sheen of river water from the stream nearby and leafy mosses poking through the narrow cracks between them. Considering this route isn’t exactly public - the grounds belong to the sweet couple who owned the lodge - the pathway isn’t as maintained as it could be - and all of you hold onto each other, keeping the other steady.

Namjoon’s hand firmly grips yours as he carefully steps over the rocks, and you know he’s using you as more of a support than you are using him, but you can’t help it. For as long as you’ve known him, Namjoon has been inherently clumsy; and constantly, you worry about his safety. Especially on excursions like this - the only light illuminating your path coming from the harsh flashlights of your phones. Nonetheless, your eyes glance to where your hands are linked, your heart fluttering at the sight.

His hand is large: dwarfing your smaller one, and warmth seeps from his skin towards yours: a smaller blessing considering the nippy air of the early morning. When he’s firmly stable on the boulder, he turns to you from over his shoulder. Even with the practically nonexistent lighting, you can still make out his face as he regards you with the brightest - somewhat sleepy - grin. The sight of him: lips pulled thin in a smile and dimples indented, paired with the way his frame is silhouetted in the shades of fall, has your heart clenching. Tightening your hold on Namjoon’s hand, you allow his strong frame to anchor you as you take another step forward - most of the other boys already ahead of you. Not that either of you mind, you and Namjoon tended to go off into your own world on walks like this anyway.

Eventually, the pathway morphs from slippery rocks to soft terrain. Reaching the entrance to the forest trail that apparently - according to the old couple - leads to a beautiful hilltop viewpoint, the eight of you gather around. Dawn’s twilight paints the sky - honeyed shades of topaz, rose and lilacs splattering across the night. The soft light finally illuminates the pathway, allowing you to see more clearly. Autumn is thick around you - the foliage emblazoned in colours of scarlet, amber and gold. Though, occasionally, trees with vibrant viridian and olivine foliage peek through the warm shades of fall. The ground is covered in dead leaves - the fallow litterfall cushioning the terrain, and crackling under your footsteps.

Beginning your descent down the winding trail - everyone breaks off into small groups: the pathway only wide enough to fit two people at a time. As usual, you and Namjoon find yourself at the rear end: your best friend stopping every now and then to snap a picture of the scenic landscapes around him. You love your best friend, you really do, but as he stops to inspect a rustling bush, you can’t help but sigh. Turning over your shoulder, your eyes widen as you realise that the boys have walked off further than you’d anticipated - however - before you can say something, Namjoon is already grabbing your hand once again.

“Did you see that?” Namjoon asks, a look of awed wonder etched onto his face. Eyebrows furrowing, you turn to where he’s pointing. Once again, the brush rustles, and when a chipmunk pops out, you take a surprised step back. It’s beady eyes take in you and Namjoon for a moment, and then it retreats back into the brush. “Wait- oh my god… There’s a hidden pathway! We should follow it,” Namjoon says ecstatically, his entire body vibrating with excitement. You’ve both been up the entire night, and with your walk, you find yourself growing tired. You know he is too. Yet, despite the sleepiness clouding both your bodies, his warm chocolate eyes practically sparkle; his entire aura buzzing with eagerness.

Biting your lip, you try to suppress your smile - though, you're sure your own look of excitement mirrors his. Desperately, you want to grab his hand and chase after the chipmunk - reminiscent of the days you’d do the same when you were children. However, you’re older now, and your friends have already walked off - and you really don’t want to get lost in a forest. Well you do, especially if it’s with Namjoon. But still, you need to be somewhat responsible. So, “Joonbug-” you try to reason, because really if you didn’t, no one would.

A knowing look on his face, “Moonbeam,” replies, his pet name for you dripping affectionately from his thick lips, “come on, it’ll be an adventure. There’s a little pathway here,” Namjoon says, as he reaches his hand out to you, the other pushing the bush out of the way. Instantly, you cave - because really, how could you say no to him - especially when you really don’t want to say no.

Placing your hand into his, “Alright, but if we get lost and Seokjin yells at us, I’m blaming you,” you reply cheekily. Instinctively, Namjoon’s fingers lace through yours as he tugs you towards the concealed pathway.

“I’ll just tell him you enabled me to do it,” Namjoon snaps back, a playful tone laced into his words. Then, without another word, he’s pulling you into the narrow pathway. Rapidly, he begins tearing through the trail, following the winding, narrow pathway as best as he can.

Your best friend is tall, and his legs are long - making his strides particularly lengthy - and you know anyone else would fall behind pretty quickly.

But not you.

No. You’ve grown up with Namjoon. You’re used to him grabbing your hand and running, used to chasing after him; and you’re used to keeping up with him easily. So, even with his long strides, and how quickly his feet slap the ground - you manage to follow him easily, your own toes just behind his heels. Colours of crimson, gold and honey blur past you, the crunching of leaves and the sound of your stomping feet mixing in a thunderous cacophony of sounds that fill the air.

However, you barely notice any of it. Rather, you’re far too fixated on your best friend. His hand is laced firmly in yours the entire time you chase after him - his long legs practically sprinting down the trail and after the chipmunk. Childlike glee exudes off of him in thick waves, and with the way his body bounces, his hair flopping as he runs, you can’t help the way your eyes soften. His large frame tears through the thicket of woods, the trunks whizzing past you while your own legs sprint as fast as they can.

Lost in Namjoon, you don’t notice him suddenly skid to a halt - at least, not until you’re crashing into his back. Steadfast, Namjoon braces himself - the two of you stumbling for a moment. Just in the nick of time, however, you both steady yourself: preventing you from falling over. Features scrunching in confusion, you look up at the back of his head in question.

“Joon, what-” you ask, only to halt when you peer over his large body.

Somehow, the hidden trail has led you both to a different viewpoint than the one the couple had told you about. Standing near the edge of the hilltop, you find yourself completely breathless at the view that greets your eyes.

At the top of one of Seokraksan’s many mountainous points, you can see miles off into the distance. Twilight slowly slips past, the sky indolently brightening with each passing moment. Dark shades of Prussian blue, indigo and plum soften into milder hues of lavender and azure; streaks of bronze and coral cutting through the sky. Stepping beside Namjoon, you both watch - in utter stillness, and awe - as the sun slowly rises over the skyline.

Thick beams of Aurelian gold peek over the horizon; illuminating the entirety of the ground with its rich sunkissed glow. Synchronously, both yours and Namjoon’s breath hitches. As the sun rises, the entirety of Seoraksan National park is lit up in the dazzling hues of daybreak. Autumnal trees of vibrant shades shimmer under its gleaming rays; the water from the narrow river that cuts through the park glistening in deep shades of cerulean and sapphire.

Turning to Namjoon, you can’t help but stop. Instantly, your breath catches in your throat and you find yourself at a loss for words. With the sun still rising in the sky, his entire body is silhouetted in a golden halo: the rays of light dancing enticingly around him. The autumn wind is light in the air, his hair gently billowing in the wind as sunlight filters through it.

And then he turns around.

Automatically, you suck in a sharp breath. With his face towards you, encased in the golden hues of daylight, you can’t help the overwhelming swell of emotions that crush you. Reflected in his warm eyes, are the golden rays of sunlight; causing the deep pools of coffee to twinkle with a certain mix of lightness and peace. The corners of his mouth are loosely pulled upwards, an easy smile painted on his lips. He stands with his hands loosely in the pockets of his oversized denim jacket, his shoulders completely lax as he soaks in the breathtaking scenery.

Swallowing thickly, you try to swallow the lump in your throat - but you can’t. Nor can you settle the beat of your heart: the muscle thunderously palpitating between your ribs. You don’t know what compels you to do it - but suddenly, you’re taking a step forward. And then another. And another. Until you’re right in front of him.

Namjoon watches you quietly - a light streak of curiousness evident in his eyes. However, that inkling of interest is overshadowed by the overwhelming emotion that you simply cannot decipher.

Nonetheless, the moment you’re only a hair’s breadth apart, you find yourself winding your arms around his waist. Instinctively, Namjoon’s hands drop from his pockets, his hands curling around your and encasing you in his hold. Then, before you can even think about it, or consider stopping yourself, you’re leaning on your tiptoes and pressing a light kiss to his lips.

For a fraction of a second, Namjoon’s eyes widen - his brain on the fritz as he feels your soft lips tenderly brush against his. The moment your lips touch, you feel a spark of electricity jolt through your body; your entire being coming to life as you buzz with excitement. Its sudden spark has you crashing back to reality, your senses finally coming back to you. As quick as it comes, however, and before he can react, you’re already swiftly pulling away.

The two of you stare at each in surprise, neither of you saying anything. You can still taste him on your lips, the soft petals tingling from when your mouth had tenderly caressed his. Licking your lips, dread floods through you as you wait for him to say something. However, he doesn’t. Instead, he stands completely rigid - his eyes glazed over and lips slightly parted.

When the silence grows terse, “I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me,” you quickly blurt out. Your words have Namjoon crashing back to reality, and he draws to his full height - an unreadable expression in his eyes. “I mean- I’m just tired, we’ve been up all night and I wasn’t thinking straight-” you try to explain. It’s a lie. You know it is - but hopefully, it’s a lie he believes. You had wanted to kiss Namjoon - desperately - because sheathed in the early morning light, you don’t think he’s ever looked more beautiful. Nonetheless - you’d rather not lose your best friend.

“Oh,” Namjoon breathes out, his plump lips forming a perfect ‘o’.

The fierce urge to pull him in for another kiss tears through you, but this time, you manage to suppress it.

“Oh,” Namjoon repeats, almost as if he’s trying to process your words. There’s something hidden behind the way the sound drops from his lips - but before you can dwell on it, he’s already speaking.

“That’s okay, we’re both tired,” Namjoon nods, a light, nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “It’s okay, it means nothing… right?” he finishes. Although, you can’t help but wonder about the uncertainty in his final word.

Nonetheless, “Y-yeah, you’re right,” you mumble out, trying to stifle the way your throat constricts. Anguish cascades through you, your chest turning numb. However, it’s for the best. As much as you love Namjoon, losing him would completely devastate you. Gulping heavily, you lick your lips, “we’re okay… right?” you ask, your voice straining slightly as you attempt to choke out the words.

Namjoon smiles brightly - though, you can’t help but notice how it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “When are we not okay? It’s you and me, ____. Joonbug and Moonbeam, remember?” he replies easily, his eyes squinted shut into crescented slits.

“Yeah… Joonbug and Moonbeam,” you repeat; a smile curling onto your own face. Even as your heart aches to be more. Then, the two of you go back to staring at the sunrise.

For the rest of the trip, you and Namjoon don’t act any differently. In fact, both of you pretend as if you hadn’t kissed by the sunrise: that you didn’t know how the other tasted after a sleepless night filled with nothing but each other.

Yet, neither of you can deny that something about your relationship has changed. Though, as dread settles in your stomach, you can’t figure out whether it’s a good or bad change.

Four months after your kiss, you find yourself on the sofa with Namjoon. Not much has changed about your relationship with him; in fact, there are only two things that have changed. One is the fact that your feelings for your best friend have grown exponentially, and more often than not, you find yourself lost in him: desperately wishing to feel his lips on yours or to confess the weight of the emotions you feel for him: the words at the tip of your tongue.

Nevertheless, you don’t. You can’t. Not after the way he’d reacted to your first kiss in the first place. Though, there are times you wish he’d reacted differently - wish that your relationship was more than it is. Like right now.

You and Namjoon are currently on the sofa, his head resting on your chest and arms loosely thrown around your waist as you hold him; the two of you watching Shark Tale together. Why he’d suddenly wanted to watch Shark Tale, you have no idea. Nonetheless, there’s very little you can deny your best friend - so when he’d wanted to watch the film, you’d easily given in.

Namjoon’s gaze is glued to the screen, his eyes focused as he lazily watches the TV screen. Your focus, however, is fixated wholly onto him. With the way he’s laid on you, his body practically smothering yours, you can feel the way his chest rises and falls above yours, and the faint thudding of his heartbeat. Instinctively, your hands find themselves in his hair - loosely twirling the thick, silken locks between your fingertips.

It’s at moments like these, that you wish you were more: wish that you could call out his name softly and press your lips to him. But you can’t; because the second reason your relationship with Namjoon has changed, is that he’s now dating someone. And you mean dating - because he has yet to introduce her to you as his girlfriend - and until he does, you refuse to call her that. Mainly because it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

More than halfway through the film, and during the scene where Angie finally confesses her love to Oscar - really, you have to scoff - there’s an aggressive rapping at your front door. Before the two of you can even move, the door twists and slams open, revealing Oh Jihee. Why Namjoon had told her where the spare key to your apartment was hidden, you have no idea.

Indolently, Namjoon turns to the door, however, before he can even open his mouth to say anything, she’s already speaking. “What is happening here?” she asks, her eyes suspiciously roving over the two of you.

“Oh, ____ and I were just watching Shark Tale. Why are you here?” Namjoon asks as he slowly pulls away from you. The moment he’s off of you, the weight on top of your chest growing light, your stomach sinks in dejection.

Raising her eyebrow, she places her hands on her hips, “Because we had a date. That you’ve clearly forgotten about,” Jihee replies snarkily, throwing a scathing look towards you. You simply cock your eyebrow and scoff - it’s not your fault Namjoon forgot about his alleged date. Though, you can’t help the streak of happiness that flitters through you: he’d unknowingly chosen to spend time with you and not Jihee.

Namjoon pulls himself off of the couch and walks over to her. Then, pulling her into his arms, he presses a soft kiss against her temple. The tender gesture has you looking away, your features falling as despair settles deep within the pits of your abdomen. “Oh. Was that today? I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind. Let me go shower and get dressed quickly,” Namjoon softly apologises. Jihee’s eyes soften, and with an exasperated sigh, she nods.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” she replies before kissing the corner of his mouth. Then, she beckons him away - leaving the two of you alone. As soon as he disappears into his bedroom, Jihee turns to you, her eyes narrowed into slits.

“What’s your problem?” she hisses. Cocking your eyebrow, you slip off of the couch and begin clearing the snacks from the coffee table.

“I have no idea what you mean,” you reply back coolly.

“Yes, you do. Why do you both always act like you’re a couple, when you’re not? I don’t like how comfortable you are touching my boyfriend,” Jihee seethes back. Your stomach sinks at the term, but you suppress your own sadness. It’s not like it mattered anyway - Namjoon was free to date whoever he wanted. He was your best friend. Just your best friend. Something you reiterate to her.

“We’ve been friends since we were children - it’s just how we’ve always been,” you shrug back simply.

“Yeah, well I’d like you to stop, I don’t like it. In fact, I don’t like your relationship with him at all,” she responds, her lips pursing into a sour expression.

Snorting lightly, “yeah, well, I don’t really care. He’s my best friend, he’s not going to stop being my best friend because you don’t like our relationship. And if you have a problem with it - you can take it to Namjoon. But you and I both know he won’t like that, which is why you’re saying this to me when he’s not here,” you retort easily.

Jihee splutters for a moment, “that’s not why I’m doing it,” she protests weakly. Though, neither of you believe that for a single moment, “besides- what do you know about what he likes. I’m his girlfriend,” she snaps.

A look of incredulity paints your face at that, and with a disbelieving chuckle, “you did not just imply that you know more about him than me, just because you’re in a relationship with him,” you say.

“And what if I did? We’re together, he would have told me more. Things he can’t tellyou,” Jihee replies - although, from her own uncertain tone, you both know she’s just grasping at straws. You’ve known Namjoon for two decades - that’s a long time. The onlyperson who knows more about him than you, is his own mother. And even then, you know probably just as much as she does.

“That’s a joke right. You literally cannot be serious. You know nothing about him. Nothing,” you spit back, your anger finally getting to you. Of course, your words are said in the heat of the moment, but you mean them - because they’re true. She knows next to nothing about him - especially since you know she forces her own opinions and personality onto him. Another reason you do not like her.

“I know things!” Jihee seethes back. Her voice is slightly shrill, and loud enough that you send a quick glance at the two spare rooms. Namjoon is in the shower - so hopefully- he won’t be able to hear this argument. Hoseok’s room is shut, and you can hear the soft tempo of his music coming from behind - so you’re not too worried about him listening in either.

Turning back to Jihee, you fold your hands across your chest and regard her cooly. “What’s his favourite breakfast?” you ask, all of a sudden.

“W-what?” Jihee stutters, a look of confusion colouring her features.

“You heard me, if you know so much about him, what’s his favourite breakfast?” you repeat.

“That’s easy. Poached eggs and toast - we go to brunch all the time, you know,” she replies haughtily.

“No. It’s any sugary cereal. In particular, he likes Lucky Marshmallows with extramarshmallows. Sometimes he literally saves all the marshmallows for last just so he can eat an entire bowl of them,” you reply easily.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Jihee tries to cut in but you shake your head.

“For your one month anniversary,” you begin, internally cringing - really, they’ve only been together three months, so why she had wanted to celebrate a month, you do not understand, “you booked a seafood restaurant,” you continue.

“He likes seafood!” Jihee cuts in.

“Not as food, he likes them as pets - or to collect them - but he doesn’t like eating them. You constantly want to join him on his walks - but sometimes he needs to be alone,” you begin. You don’t know why you do it, but all of a sudden, you find yourself laying into her.

Sucking in a deep breath, you continue, “I know you met him at an art exhibition, and Iknow that he loves music, and art and philosophy and I know you share those together. But those aren’t the only aspects of his personality.” Briefly, you pause, your eyes slightly tearing up. However, rather than letting it get to you, you blink them away.

“Namjoon- he’s a huge dork. He’s more than those selective interests that you’ve singled out. He grows bonsai in his spare time and names all of them and speaks to them. He easily gets distracted by different animals - like frogs, or squirrels or chipmunks - and he always needs to stop and try to pick them up. He eats spoonfuls of sugar when he thinks no one is around. He loves cute things and buys more Kaws and Ryan or Brown plushies than a grown man needs. He can be whiny, and petty, and sometimes borderline childish but it’s who he is.”

Again, you stop, your chest heaving in the slightest from your sudden rant. You have no idea what overcame you, but the moment you’d started speaking, it had felt like a dam had burst. Jihee simply stands stock still, looking at you in disbelief. Letting out a deep breath, you run your fingers through your hair. “That is who he will always be and you cannot change who he is - or pick and choose aspects that you like. If you honestly want to be with him, if you have any feelings for him - you will understand that he is perfect the way he is. You should love him for who he is,” you finally finish. Desperately, you want to throw the words ‘Like I do’ but you can’t. Instead, you left them unsaid.

With your little spiel well and truly done, silence falls over the room. Jihee regards you coldly, her eyes glazed with passiveness, and her face an expression of stoic calmness. But then, she grits her teeth, and with a low voice, “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. Because he’s dating me not you,” she hisses out. Her words are low, barely above a whisper, and yet the heavy scorn tears through you. Her words cut you like a knife, leaving your chest numb and your heart aching with hurt.

Unable to say anything, you simply bite your lips. Fists clenched to the side of your body, your knuckles turn white and you simply stare at each other. Repeatedly, you open your mouth to argue - to say something - but you know she’s right. It doesn’t matter if you know Namjoon, or that you’ve been his best friend for over two years. All that matters is that he still chose her - that she’s his girlfriend.

Nonetheless, before you can say anything, Namjoon pops out of his bedroom - hair slightly damp and dressed for the day. Smiling gently at Jihee, he walks over to her before beckoning her towards the door. Jihee returns his smile, her eyes briefly flashing with smugness as she looks at you. Throat tight, you attempt to turn away. However, just as you do, Namjoon smiles tightly at you.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” he says, before guiding Jihee out of the apartment - leaving you alone.

That night, you sit on the couch - a fluffy blanket thrown over your lap - and Hoseok beside you, as you both idly flick through your phones. The two of you sit in complete silence, Hoseok laughing quietly and showing you a funny picture on his timeline, before turning back to his own phone. Time moves past slowly, and every now and then, your gaze flicks to the entrance of your flat, and you silently wonder when Namjoon will come home. Or if he was even coming home tonight.

Nonetheless, you don’t have to wait any longer - because, all of a sudden, the doorknob is twisting and Namjoon walks through. Eyebrows scrunching in befuddlement, you watch as he drags his feet into your apartment. Shrugging off his jacket, he stays quiet, his shoulders slumped as he kicks off his shoes.

“Joon? You okay?” you ask, worry evident in your voice as you sit up. Namjoon only hums casually, but other than that he doesn’t say anything. Dread flits through you, your stomach dropping at his lacklustre posture.

Then, “I’m going to go to bed, yeah?” he says, before shuffling into his room. His door slams shut softly, and you feel your heart sink into your chest. You simply can’t shake off the feeling that your argument with Jihee has something to do with Namjoon’s upset. Once he’s safely behind his closed door, you blink owlishly and turn to Hoseok, the two of you looking at each other in worry.

Gaze flicking to his shut bedroom door, “Do you think something happened?” you whisper lowly as you bite your lip in nervousness.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s about your fight with Jihee,” Hoseok casually replies with a shrug. Taken aback, you look at him in a mix of trepidation and confusion. His words had only confirmed your suspicion that it was something to do with your earlier argument.

“Do you think he heard?”

Hoseok sighs at your question. “Honestly, if I heard it over my music, he definitely heard it in the shower. But- I can’t say for sure. You’re going to have to ask him yourself,” he replies - almost diplomatically.

“If he heard then I don’t think he’s going to want to speak to me right now,” you point out. However, your words only cause Hoseok to scoff.

“Please, the day Joon doesn’t want to talk to you, is the day hell literally freezes over. When have either of you ever had an argument that has lasted more than a couple of hours?” Hoseok questions, his perfectly sculpted eyebrow rising slightly.

You open your mouth to respond, before pausing. Eyebrows furrowed, you struggle to try and remember a time the two of you hadn’t spoken for longer than a few hours. You and Namjoon fight, of course you do, however, they’ve never really been serious - and you’ve always made up eventually. The two of you just couldn’t bear to be apart. Seeing the dawning look of realisation on your face, Hoseok lets out a soft chuckle.

“Exactly. Just go speak to him - I’m sure you’re overthinking it anyway,” Hoseok encourages. Smiling gently at him, you nod and throw the blanket off of you.

Padding over to Namjoon’s room, you knock on the door tentatively. From behind the wooden frame, Namjoon grunts, and taking it as a sign of entry, you walk into his bedroom. The moment you see him, you bite your lip, your heart clinching in anguish. He’s sat up in bed, dressed in his pyjamas, and casually scrolling through his phone. His speakers blear music softly, faint acoustic beats thrumming through the quiet bedroom. Stepping further into his room, you call out to him softly.

“Namjoon… is everything okay?” you ask, shuffling nervously in place.

With a sigh, “Jihee and I decided it was best to stop seeing each other,” Namjoon replies. Blood running cold, you look at him in a mixture of shock and barely concealed hope. However, swiftly, you suppress them - you need to be there for your best friend right now.

Tentatively, “You broke up? Why?” you ask.

“We weren’t really together to break up, we were just dating,” Namjoon replies. Then, eyeing your apprehensive state in amusement, “you can join me you know,” Namjoon says as he pats the spot next to him.

Breathing out in relief, you quickly cross his room and join him on the bed. You shuffle in next to him, Namjoon automatically throwing the covers over you. Once you’re settled down, you curl your hands in your lap and turn to look at him. “Do you want to talk about it? You never answered why you broke up,” you point out, your voice low.

Namjoon hums before lolling his head back to rest against the wall. He stares at the ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing for a couple of moments. Then, “I heard your argument with her,” he confesses.

A sad smile curls on your face, and with downcast eyes, you stare at your hands. “I feared as much. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep or anything… I just- she didn’t seem right for you, I guess,” you admit. Because I’m the right one for you. The words echo in your mind, but again, you push them far back into your head. You do not need to dwell on that right now.

“Hmm. Well, you’re right. There was too much about us that clashed… which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But at the same time, I didn’t feel comfortable being myself around her either,” he says. “I’m not upset at you or anything by the way. If anything, I’m grateful. If you hadn’t said what you had, I probably wouldn’t have realised how unhappy I was with her,” Namjoon admits with a tender smile.

“I still feel bad…” you begin.

However, Namjoon cuts you off. “I didn’t have feelings for her. She’d seen me at the museum a couple of times and asked me out. I didn’t really notice until she came up to me,” he chuckles lightly. Your eyes soften at that. Namjoon is beautiful, and if anyone were to ask you, you’d tell them that he was the ideal man. With his soft, devastatingly handsome looks, and his tender heart and enigmatic brain, Namjoon is yourideal man. But he’d never really appreciated his own charm - he never really understood why women were so attracted to him. More than anything, he barely even recognised when women flirted with him. It was endearing, really.

“Why did you say yes, then?” you ask curiously.

Namjoon pauses at that. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes before turning back to the ceiling. He’d never admit it out loud, but the reason he’d said yes was because of your kiss, all those months ago. The moment he’d felt your lips on his, he’d been electrified and dazed - and for the first time in a while - his brain had completely shut down and he hadn’t been able to act. But by the time he’d processed it, ready to press his lips harder into yours and really taste you, you were already pulling away and apologising.

The very second your mouth had brushed his, Namjoon knew you were the one for him. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could feel the tingle over his lips, and your warm breath wafting over his chin. Contrary to your beliefs, Namjoon did, in fact, notice the attention girls paid him. He just didn’t care. Mainly because his heart already belonged to you. Admittedly, falling in love with your best friend was the world’s most cliche move - but he just couldn’t help it. No one compared to you.

So when you’d pulled away like that, he couldn’t help the way his heart had yearned for you, and he knew he had to at least try to move on. Which is where Jihee had come in. Nevertheless, no matter how much Jihee loved art, or philosophy, it didn’t matter - because she wasn’t you. She’s not you and he never really could stop comparing the two of you to each other. It wasn’t fair on either of you - particularly because he knew he’d never love anyone the way he loves you. And your argument with Jihee had only cemented that.

When he’d overheard your exchange, he’d been shocked. Of course, he knew that you’d known a lot about him, but having you admit so clearly and so boldly that she should love him for him - for every aspect that made him: the good and the bad. Well, it only had him falling deeper for you. So, when Jihee had bought up your less than conventional friendship, and how the tactility between the two of you made her uncomfortable - well, he’d known he had to end it with her there.

Not only because she’d been uncomfortable with his friendship with you - really, why had she ever thought he’d give you up for her? You’ve been in his life twenty years, he’d only known her around three months - but she’d also wanted him to stop being so physical with you. Thus, Namjoon had decided it was best for the two of them to part ways. Also because, well, he’s in love with you. But that’s neither here nor there - especially since you don’t feel the same way.

At one point, he thought you had. Nonetheless, after your kiss, he’s not so sure. And he’s not willing to risk your friendship either. You mean far too much to him to risk anything without any certainty that you felt the same way.

“Joon?” you softly call out, dragging him from his own musings. “You never responded,” you continue.

Biting his lips, “Just because,” he responds. No. He could not admit his feelings for you. At the very least, not now.

It’s the middle of August, when you find yourself in Namjoon’s family’s log cabin on Jeju Island. As usual, the family had decided to take their yearly trip to the island, and like every other year, you had been extended an invite by Namjoon’s parents. His family and you are currently gathered around the garden while Namjoon’s dad barbeques some meat. Your best friend stands beside you, the two of you idly chatting with his parents.

“So, ____, are you seeing anyone?” Namjoon’s dad asks all of a sudden. The question surprises you, causing you to choke on the piece of meat you’d just been swallowing. Namjoon’s mom looks pointedly at her husband before lightly patting your back. However, she can’t help but notice the way her son stiffens beside you, his gaze narrowed onto his own plate.

Managing to swallow the piece of meat, you turn to Namjoon’s dad, “No, I’m not Mr. Kim, why?” you ask. Namjoon’s dad simply smiles, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

“I was just wondering. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, after all. I know Namjoon was seeing someone a little while ago, but Yunmi mentioned they broke up,” Namjoon’s dad answers casually. Both you and Namjoon stiffen at that. Momentarily, you look at each other before looking away.

“Dad,” Namjoon begins, but swiftly, you cut him off.

“Ah, well, I’m not. I just… haven’t met the right guy yet, you know?” you reply awkwardly. You have met the right guy, he just doesn’t reciprocate your feelings. At your words, once again the two of you glance at each other before turning away. Your ears burn slightly, and picking up your chopsticks, you place another piece of meat into your mouth. From beside you, Namjoon’s gaze shifts to you briefly, a flicker of yearning flitting through his eyes.

Namjoon’s mother stares at the two of you knowingly, a soft smile gracing her face. Really, for as long as she’s known you, she’s been hoping that you and Namjoon would end up together. Yet, for years now, both her and her husband have watched the two of you dance around each other; your relationship clearly more than platonic, and yet neither of you doing anything about it. However, she knows that somehow, eventually, the two of you would end up together. She knew the day Namjoon had come home - back when he was merely sixteen - complaining about the boy you had a crush on.

“Are you sure? There’s this nice boy I know, I can introduce you to-” Namjoon’s dad begins. Instantly, Namjoon’s head snaps up and he looks at his father in a mix of despair and betrayal. Next to him, you stand rigid, your ears burning with embarrassment.

Sensing your awkwardness, “That’s enough, Hongjoon. I’m sure Namjoon and ____ don’t want to spend their time speaking about relationships. Just grill the meat,” Namjoon’s mother chastises, her husband only sending her a knowing grin in response.

“Very well, very well. Do you want some grilled shrimp, Namjoon?” Hongjoon asks, holding out a skewer of prawns towards his son. Namjoon looks at his father in horror, and quickly, you’re taking the skewer from his dad.

“Mr Kim, Namjoon doesn’t eat seafood, remember? However, I’d be happy to have them. Here, Joon, you can have this beef- I won’t be able to eat the shrimp too,” you easily say, passing over your meat towards him. Yunmi looks at her husband, knowing full well he’d done it purposely, however, Hongjoon just sends her an innocent smile before turning back to his grill. When a giggle resounds through the air, she turns her attention back to the two of you.

“Joon, how do you manage to get the sauce all over you? Honestly. Here,” you chide. Then, picking up a tissue, you gently dab the corner of his mouth. Yunmi watches the way you lean into each other, Namjoon standing completely still as he lets you wipe the sauce from his lips. Her eyes flicking over her son, she can’t help but smile at the way he softly watches you - nothing but tender love and affection present in his eyes.

Really, with how often you both act like a couple, she has no idea how you aren’t together yet. Unable to stop herself, “isn’t that adorable,” she coos. Both of you still, your hand midway in the air while Namjoon looks at his mother in annoyance. “Sorry, sorry. It just reminds me of when you both were younger, and the two of you would play house,” Namjoon’s mother reminisces.

“Mom- why would you bring that up?” Namjoon whines, his usually deep voice slightly higher than usual. You don’t say anything, instead, just biting your lip fondly. You remember those days - when you and Namjoon would run around pretending to be husband and wife, with your stuffed teddy bear playing your son. Briefly, you send him a side glance, your heart constricting within your chest. For the longest time, you’ve imagined your future with Namjoon. Though, you know it will never come to fruition.

“Because, Namjoon, you used to always run around saying that you would eventually marry ____. It’s nice to see that your friendship hasn’t changed though, and you’re still close - even if ____ has to look after you all the time,” Namjoon’s mum says, smiling playfully at her son.

Ignoring her first statement, “Hey! I look after her too, you know,” Namjoon splutters in indignation.

That has you scoffing and playfully rolling your eyes. “Oh please, let’s not forget that I almost had to take you to the ER because you got your fingers stuck in one of those Chinese finger puzzles,” you snort back.

Namjoon’s mother blinks in surprise, and a smirk curling on her face, “did he now? ____, you have to tell me all about it,” Yunmi says. The two of you let out twin - borderline terrifying - giggles, Namjoon simply groaning and throwing his head back.

He’d forgotten how close you and his mother were - and that frequently, you’d gang up against him. Though, watching the two of you easily speak to each other, he knows he wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if it came at his own expense.

Jogging down the stairs from your room, you look for Namjoon. The two of you had plans to go on a walk along the beach, however, he had yet to come and find you. Thus, growing tired of waiting for your best friend, you decide to find him yourself. Softly padding to the kitchen, you briefly pause when you realise he’s in there with his mother. She’s currently chopping carrots, Namjoon sitting at the island with a cup of tea in his hands.

“I don’t see why you don’t just do it. Your father and I have said we support you multiple times,” his mother sighs. Your eyebrows furrow slightly, and you find yourself hiding behind the wall. You know you shouldn’t be eavesdropping on their conversation, but you simply can’t help yourself. Besides, Namjoon’s mother’s words have you growing curious about their topic of conversation.

“I’ve already told you-” Namjoon tries arguing, but his mother cuts him off mid-sentence,

“Namjoon, you keep denying it, but your father and I have watched the two of you dance around each other for years. You cannot tell me that you are just friends. Friends don’t act the way the two of you do, you know,” Yunmi says pointedly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Namjoon asks, his head cocking to the side. Your stomach flips as you realise that they’re talking about the two of you. Shuffling further behind the wall, you press your back towards it as you continue listening in.

“It means that friends don’t hold hands because it feels comfortable, or they don’t wipe sauce from the other’s lips, and they certainly don’t cuddle together while sharing the same bed. Which,” Yunmi begins, emphasising her word when Namjoon opens his mouth to argue, “is not something your father and I have a problem with, by the way. We both like ____, we’ve known her for a long time. We know you’ll look after each other and you’ll be happy together. So why haven’t you done anything about it? We just want you to be happy, Namjoon,” Yunmi finishes.

You bite your lips at her words, your stomach flipping in a mixture of hope and nervousness. Fingers shaking slightly, you hold your breath as you await Namjoon’s response. Then, you hear him sigh and you feel your world crumble around you.

“Yeah, but mom, it’s not like that. We’re not like that. We’re just friends,” Namjoon replies. Harshly, you press your teeth down onto your lip, chewing it so intensely you fear you’ll draw blood. However, it’s the only thing keeping you from letting out a sob. Namjoon’s words replay over and over in your mind. Of course, you always knew he’d felt that way - but having it confirming it so casually, has your heart breaking.

Not wanting to listen in any longer, you silently turn around and rush back up the stairs - being as quiet as you possibly can. Once you’re up the stairs, you enter the room you’re currently sharing with Namjoon before softly shutting the door. Taking a deep breath, you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat - your breath laboured as you try to stop yourself from breaking out into sobs.

Walking further into the room, you take a seat onto the bed before whipping out your phone. In times like these, you’d usually call Namjoon to comfort you - but considering he’s the reason you’re hurt - you know you can’t do that. So, instead, you quickly open your contacts and call the next best thing - Jung Hoseok. Pressing the call button by his contact name, you lift the phone to your ear. With the phone ringing in your eardrum, you quietly will him to pick up, urgently needing someone to speak to.

“Hello?” Hoseok’s sweet voice comes across the phone.

“Hoseok,” you breathe out.

“____? Are you okay? What’s wrong? Where’s Namjoon?” Hoseok asks, alarm evident in his voice as he hears the heavy emotion in yours.

“I’m fine… Somewhat. I just- I needed someone to speak to, and it can’t be Namjoon,” you reply breathily. Realising there’s no reason to panic, Hoseok calms down.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” he asks gently. His sweet voice echoes through your ears, calming you down. Other than Namjoon - Hoseok was really the only one who could soothe you when you’re upset. “Just breathe in deeply, ____. It’ll be fine,” he continues calmly. Nodding, you take in a deep breath, the lump in your throat relaxing a little.

“I just heard Namjoon tell his mother that we’re just friends… and I don’t know what to do anymore. I- I thought I’d be fine just being his friend, but after that kiss, and then Jihee-” you begin, however, Hoseok cuts you off with a yelp.

“Kiss?! What kiss?” he practically shrieks, his shrill voice causing you to wince. Though, despite the situation, you find yourself laughing.

“Ah- I forgot you didn’t know. When we were at Seoraksan, when Joon and I disappeared, we kissed. It wasn’t anything major but-” you begin.

“Nothing major?! Dude, you kissed the guy you’ve been in love with for years. That’s pretty fucking major. What happened? Why aren’t you together?” he quickly fires off, curiosity clear in his voice.

“Can we not do this now? It just happened and then I pulled away and apologised-” you try explaining.

“You apologised? Why would you do that?” Hoseok bursts out.

Sighing in annoyance, “Hoseok! That’s not the problem!” you seethe. Your voice breaks through the phone with a hiss, causing Hoseok to quieten down on the other side.

“Oh- yes. You’re right. But I will be asking for all the details later. Anyway, why did you call? What happened?” he questions once again.

“I just overheard Namjoon telling his mother we’re just friends… and I don’t know if I can be here anymore. I- it’s so hard. Pretending that I don’t want to be more and that I’m not in love with him. I just- I don’t want to be just friends anymore and it sucks,” you reply, your voice heavy with emotion.

“Well, why don’t you just tell him that? Like, I’m pretty sure Joon’s in love with you too, you know?” Hoseok says softly.

Unable to help yourself, you let out a snort. “That’s really rich, Hobi. What the fuck am I supposed to say? Hey, Namjoon! I’ve been in love with you for years now and I want to be more than friends? Even though I just heard him tell his mother-” you begin ranting.

However, you stop when you hear Namjoon's deep voice tear through the bedroom: “You what?”

Blood freezing, your entire body goes rigid. The moment his voice registers in your eardrums, you whip around, your eyes wide as you spot your best friend. “Namjoon,” you breathe out heavily. Despair floods through you, your ears burning as you feel your stomach sink.

“Hoseok, I’ll call you back… I have to go,” you quickly say before hanging up. Then, turning around, you hop off of the bed, “Namjoon, it’s not-” you begin, your mind running a mile a minute as you try to think of something to say. Would you even be able to say anything? To salvage your friendship with him? Or had you just unknowingly ruined it all?

“Did you mean it? Do you love me?” Namjoon asks. Repetitively, like a broken record, the words play over and over in his mind - filling him with a mix of confusion, elation and relief.

“I- Namjoon,” you try, but Namjoon simply shakes his head. In an instant, he crosses the room - until he’s right in front of you. You jerk at the sudden movement, your neck straining as you look up at him.

“Did you mean it? Please, ____, I need to know,” Namjoon exhales deeply. Left reeling by the sheer emotion in his voice, the desperation, the yearning, the tenderness - you can’t help but blink, unable to figure out what any of it means. He looks down at you intensely, his warm brown eyes leaving you captivated.

Breathing heavily, you bite your lip. Then, gathering every ounce of courage you have, you throw caution to the wind. He’d already heard you anyway. “Yes. I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember,” you confess - nothing but sincere earnestness present in your voice.

The minute the words leave your lips, Namjoon’s lips crash down onto yours. For a sliver of a moment, your eyes widen in shock, however, as quickly as it comes, it goes, and soon, your eyes are slipping shut.

Loosely, his hand moves to grip your neck, as you lift your chin higher - so you can press your lips harder into his - while your hands fist into his shirt. His free hand drops to wind around your waist, and in one swift movement, he pulls your body flush against his. Gasping at the motion, Namjoon uses the opportunity to slip his tongue between your teeth, your lips parting further in response. Indolently, his silky appendage swipes across yours, curling around your tongue and gently massaging it.

Electrified by his kiss, you moan into his mouth, your chin lifting higher as you press your lips harder against his. Mouths moving in tandem, you lose yourself into the intoxicating feel of his lips against yours. The soft petals of his mouth are soft, and as pillowy as you remember; albeit a little chapped, but you don’t mind so much. No - because the slight abrasion only adds to the feel of your kiss.

When you feel his tongue flick against yours, your hands uncurl from his shirt - only to wind up his chest, along his throat, towards the nape of his neck. Further and further, you sink into Namjoon: his body pressed flat against yours, his saccharine taste coating your tastebuds, and his warm breath wafting over your face. You can’t help but find yourself drowning into him - his entire presence encasing your senses as you lose yourself deep into his entire being.

Both of you lose track of time, your tongues gliding and sliding against each other, both of you consumed wholly by the other. Lost in your own selves, you feel nothing but each other - want to feel nothing but each other - and soon, the rest of the world fades into the background. There’s a soft ache in your lungs - your chest aching from the lack of oxygen, but you don’t care. No - right now, breathing is the last thing on your mind. In fact, the only thing you can think of is Namjoon, and the intoxicating sensation of his tongue against yours.

Nonetheless, eventually, your lungs begin to burn - the lack of oxygen searing through your chest. When the sweltering ache grows too much to be ignored, the two of you pull away - breathing harshly against each other. Your eyes stay closed as you gasp for air, both your breaths mingling together and circulating the air. Your lips are slightly swollen, and as you flick out your tongue to soothe them, you can’t help but whimper at the aftertaste of his essence on your mouth: the flavour only deepened by his breath fanning your face.

With your eyes closed, you still feel him linger around you - his calming presence washing over you and soothing your earlier hurt. Swallowing thickly, the two of you gradually open your eyes - coming face to face with each other. You’re still only a hairsbreadth away, his mouth ghosting against yours in tender brushes. Gaze meeting his, you search his eyes for something - anything - even just an inkling of the emotions you feel for him. And as usual, Namjoon doesn’t disappoint.

He smiles gently at you, the soft tip of his nose brushing yours as he repetitively presses affectionate kisses to your lips. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that?” he breathes out.

“W-What…? I thought- you told your mother-” you stammer out, confused by the entire situation.

“You’re an idiot you know,” Namjoon chuckles. Instantly, your face falls, ire rising in your chest. But before you can say anything, Namjoon shakes his head and presses his lips to yours, “I’m an idiot too. This entire time, I thought you didn’t feel the same - so I kept telling myself that we were just friends,” Namjoon admits. Then, he pauses, “but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to be more either,” he confesses.

Your heart swells with happiness, a bright grin gracing your face. Then, you still. A sliver of confusion enters your eyes, and your features knit in the slightest, “but… that day in Seoraksan… you didn’t reciprocate,” you point out. Namjoon lets out a low, mirthless laugh.

“Is that why you pulled away and apologised?” he asks. When you nod, he just sighs and shakes his head, “I wasn’t expecting it ____, and by the time I realised what was happening, you were already pulling away and apologising. But- I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to pull you closer and kiss you harder. I wanted you that day, more than you’ll know,” he admits. Face crumpling with emotion, realisation dawns over you - the epiphany crashing over you like a pile of bricks.

Laughing, “we’re idiots, aren’t we? Have we been in love this entire time?” you ask, biting your lip to try and swallow down the smile. Namjoon matches your laugh, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through your entire being. You close your eyes and let it wash over you, the sound bringing peace to your very soul.

“Yeah, we have. But- better late than never, right?” Namjoon chuckles.

Nodding eagerly, you let out the laugh that bubbles up in your chest, “I love you,” you confess once again.

Unhesitantly, “I love you too. So fucking much,” Namjoon responds. Then, the hand gripping your neck curls tighter, and he’s dipping his head down again.

Pressing his lips to yours again, you can’t help but sigh. It’s a little different than before - slow, with a lower undercurrent of urgency. Moaning into his kiss, you press yourself harder against him, your fingers carding into the hair as the base of his neck. Gripping the roots of his locks, you attempt to deepen the kiss, Namjoon lightly chuckling into your mouth when you whine in protest. Slowly, Namjoon pulls you backwards, stopping when the backs of his knees hit the bed.

Indolently, his large hands trace along your spine, his palms trailing along your covered flesh. Every single one of his touches sets your skin aflame with desire, heat settling deep within the pits of your abdomen. Taking a step closer, you moan into his mouth when you feel his hardening shaft against the soft of your belly - involuntarily grinding against it. Your movements cause him to let out a strained grunt, and breaking away from your kiss, he groans out your name.

Lust coursing through your bloodstream, you begin peppering kisses along the sharp outline of his jaw - your lips tracing the edge. Responsively, Namjoon’s hands drop to your hips, his hands splaying across your ass before pulling you flush against him. The two of you writhe together - your lower abdomen squirming against the outline of his growing bulge. Fists moving to curl around his shirt, your eyelids flutter as you feel him lightly palm at your ass - his fingers flexing and gripping the supple cheeks.

Your mouth parts open, and you let out a slew of breathy moans - heat pooling deep within your loins as you find yourself growing wetter. Dipping his head down, Namjoon buries his face into the crook of your neck - his pillowy lips tenderly roving over the skin. “J-Joon,” you stutteringly whimper, your eyes rolling back when he playfully nips your skin. Puckering his lips, he presses them to the sensitive spot just below your ear before sucking harshly. Responsively, a low mew resounds from your lips. In the wake of his kisses and light nips, you have no doubt he’s leaving hickeys over your flesh: mauve and rose marks blooming over your skin.

Sighing under him, “I want you,” you mumble quietly.

Namjoon runs his nose down the column of your throat before outlining the shape of your collarbone. When he reaches just below your chin - where your two clavicles meet, he bites down softly - making you whimper out his name. Lazily, he flicks out his tongue, the wet appendage gliding soothingly over your stinging flesh. Then, pulling away, “I want you too,” he mutters back. His cool breath fans against your flushed skin, the wet spot on your flesh evaporating, causing you to shudder.

“Then take me,” you groan back - nothing but want and earnestness in your voice.

The moment the words slip out, Namjoon’s fingers firmly dig into your ass, and then, he’s lifting you up. Yelping at the sudden movement, you quickly brace yourself onto his shoulders, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. You feel him manoeuvre the two of you onto the bed - until you’re both in the middle. Letting you go, he gently puts you onto the bed - and when your knees are firmly against the mattress he lets you go.

The two of you kneel on the bed; your hands tracing up his toned chest - feeling every defined muscle under his shirt - and towards his face. Cupping his chin, you pull him in for another kiss - desperately needing to feel his lips against yours once again. Automatically, Namjoon dips his head down, his mouth chasing yours as both your tongues begin gliding against each other.

Feverishly, your hands begin roaming over each other - hot lust clouding your minds as your kiss grows fervent with desire. Urgently, your hands roam over each other - Namjoon’s large palms pushing under the hem of your dress and over your bare thigh under he reaches the junction between your thighs. Boldly, he presses his hand to your panty-clad folds, and the sudden touch has you breaking your kiss with a surprised cry.

Soft whine spilling from your lip, you grind into his hand, your walls clenching as you feel him softly stroke your folds. The heat between your thighs is uncomfortable, and radiates so strongly that Namjoon can’t help but hiss - the knuckle of his thumb imperceptibly caressing your throbbing clit. Skin flashing with heat, you pull away from him briefly, and before he can even comprehend what’s happening, you’re gripping the hem of your dress and taking it off of you.

The moment your scantily covered body greets his eyes, Namjoon lets out a strained groan - his eyes roaming over your flesh. Your body is not new to him - no, in fact, he’s seen you in various states of undress at different points in your friendship. Nonetheless, it’s different now; your chest heaves as you gasp for air, and your heavily lidded eyes: gaze turbulent with lust. Intense eyes rove over your body, Namjoon practically drinking you in.

Growing wetter under his heavy stare, you feel your inner walls clench - your nipples twisting to hardness under the lace cups of your bra. “Namjoon,” you breathe out heavily. Wantonness thick in your voice, Namjoon quickly sheds off his own clothing - your mouth drying when you see the muscles of his biceps bugle as he removes his t-shirt. Cool air wafts over your heated skin and goosebumps prickle over your flesh, causing you to shudder. However, it only lasts a moment because Namjoon is swiftly pulling you flush against him,

Warm skin melding together, you cry out in pleasure when your hard nipples brush against his chest through the rough material of your bra. The friction sends spikes of lust straight to your core, a gush of wetness seeping through your pussy before soaking into the material of your underwear. Dropping his head to your shoulder, Namjoon runs his soft lips over your flesh; peppering kisses onto your skin. Meanwhile, his hands move back to grasp your ass - caressing and kneading the flesh in his large palms.

Your own shaky hands push between your bodies: trembling digits falling to the waistband of Namjoon’s jeans as you attempt to undo the button. Finally managing to pop the button, you desperately push the rough material of his trousers down his hips. When you struggle to remove them from you, Namjoon pushes you away. Flopping bonelessly onto the bed as you watch him rid himself of his trousers. When he’s left in nothing but his boxers, your mouth practically salivates.

As if magnetically drawn, your eyes instinctively fall to his hips, and you suck in a sharp breath at the sight. The defined ‘v’ of his hips leads to his boxer-clad shorts - his cock pressed to the side of his thigh by his tight underwear. Throat constricting, your eyes widen slightly at the shape of it - even through his underwear, he looks huge: the thick girth pressed against his toned left thigh. As you continue practically leering at him, Namjoon crawls over you. Instinctively, your thighs part, allowing him to crawl between them.

His hands brace on either side of you, the strong muscles of his arms twitch as he bears the entirety of his body weight on them. Arms shooting up, you run them over his naked shoulders before carding into his hair as you tug him further over you. A soft gasp slips from your mouth when his weight presses over you: his defined chest over yours and his hips pressing into yours in the most enticing way. Hands entwined into his hair, you watch the way the ambient light encases him in an amber halo, your eyes softening at the sight.

Straining your neck, you attach your lips to his once again, pouring all the love you feel for him into your kiss. Languidly, Namjoon’s tongue slides over your lips, the motion causing you to sigh. He’s sweet on your tongue; his honeyed essence bathing your tastebuds until he’s all you can feel. This time, your lips move slowly - mouths moving softly in tandem with each other as your tongues slide against the other leisurely.

Namjoon shifts above you - the movement causes his heated erection to brush against the thin, soaked material of your underwear. Reflexively, you buck into him - causing Namjoon to hiss. Shifting above you, Namjoon’s hands trail over your thighs. Then, hooking your legs around his waist, he’s suddenly flipping you over. Yelping in surprise at the abrupt movement, you fall into him; Namjoon’s arm loosely wrapping around your naked waist.

In your new position, he sits with his back against the headboard; your thighs straddling his hips. Namjoon’s warm hand indolently drifts down your waist, until it rests comfortably in the curve of your spine. Shifting into a more comfortable position, you sit on his lap - both of you groaning when your cores press together. Responsively, Namjoon bucks up into you, the action causing you to shudder.

“Namjoon,” you whine, your hips squirming over his.

“What do you want, baby?” Namjoon asks, his neck straining up to brush his lips against yours.

“I want you,” you reply easily. A smile curls on his lips, and playfully, he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth. Sucking the soft flesh, he rakes his teeth over the swollen petal, making you sough into his mouth.

Simultaneously, Namjoon’s hands drop to your hips, and gripping them, he pushes your pelvis down - so that your wet, covered folds are flat against his cock. The movement causes you both to cry: you - at the intoxicating feel of his throbbing cock around your weeping sex, and Namjoon - at the wet heat pressing into his hardness.

“F-Fuck, Joon,” you mewl. Hips moving of their own accord, you begin grinding your heated cunt against his hard shaft. The skimpy material of your panties hinders nothing, and easily, you feel his cock - hot and pulsing, through the material of both your underwear. Namjoon’s hands trail to your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh as he begins moving you over him. Instinctively, the two of you fall into a synchronous rhythm, your hips writhing together in frantic movement as you lose yourself into your pleasure.

“God, baby, you’re so fucking hot… and wet. How are you this wet?” Namjoon groans - the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through the air. Fingers digging harder into your ass, he gyrates harder into you, soft grunts and pants escaping his lips as he feels your wet heat against his cock. “Fuck- that’s it, baby. Grind all over my cock - you feel so good,” Namjoon moans, his head falling back. The soft murmurs of his voice rip through the silent room, the sounds of his own pleasure intermingling with yours.

Your hands fall to his shoulders, and using them as leverage, you begin pushing your hips harder into his. With every brush of his cock between your folds, you can’t help but grow wetter - your toes curling in pleasure. Namjoon watches you practically bounce on his cock - the top swells of your breast rippling with each movement. Unable to help himself, he moves his hands to unclasp your bra. When you feel the elasticated band loosen, the strap falling down your shoulder, you move your hands from his shoulders - divesting the brassier off of you.

Breasts free, and swaying with every one of your movements, Namjoon finds himself entranced by the sight. From his position under you, he leans forward and wraps his lips against the right peak, pulling the hardened bud into his mouth and gently sucking. The moment you feel his plush lips around your nipple, you cry out his name. Pussy clenching around nothing, you whimper at the ache between your thighs.

“Fuck, Namjoooon,” you whine - drawing out the syllables of his name. Indolently, his tongue swirls around your nipple - tracing its outline over and over again, while he simultaneously suckles at it. His hands are back on your ass - holding the plump flesh in his large hands while squeezing and spreading them apart.

Pleasure seeps into your veins, and you begin grinding more feverishly against him. Short gasps of pleasure slip from your lips, the friction of your sodden lace panties and his cotton boxers slowly driving you wild. You have no doubt that you’re dripping now - the material of his boxers soaked enough to leave damp trails of your wetness onto the fabric. Your stomach twists - the heat inside causing your stomach to flip and turn with every one of your movements.

Hands braced on his shoulders, you dig your fingernails into the thick muscle - Namjoon grunting at the slight pain. When he unexpectedly bites down on your nipple, rolling the peak between his teeth - your cunt clenches painfully and you sob out his name. “M-More, please. I-I need more,” you whimper. Hearing the desperation in your voice, Namjoon takes pity on your form.

Hand slipping down between your thighs, you feel him push your hips off of his cock. A whine of protest slips through your lips, your walls clenching as they ache for the feel of his cock - however, your displeasure only lasts a few moments. Pressing his fingers against your folds, Namjoon lazily begins stroking his fingers through your covered slit - causing you to whimper out his name.

“Fuck- you’ve soaked through your panties, baby. Do you want my cock this much?” Namjoon asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. It’s all you can do to nod eagerly, you hips pressing harder into his hand.

“J-Joonie- more,” you helplessly mewl, squirming into his fingers.

Namjoon chuckles from under you, but gives into you. Pushing the gusset of your underwear to the side, his fingers stroke through your naked folds, causing you to hiss and drop your head onto his shoulder. Tenderly, Namjoon traces the outline of your folds - completely in awe of how absolutely sodden they are. He’s barely even touched your entrance, yet thick, filmy strings of your wetness coat the pads of his digits.

“God- I’ve dreamt of what your pussy would feel like - but I never thought it’d be this good,” Namjoon admits - his thumb moving to stroke your hardened clit. The sensation of the pad of his thumb swiping against your swollen, needy bud causing you to buck into him, you cunt contracting around nothing.

Twisting your hand between your bodies, you push his boxers down all of a sudden. Abruptly, his cock springs out before the heavy length falls onto his lower abdomen. In an instant, your palm is stroking the thick length, your mouth watering as you admire his shaft. The velvet length is long, and incredibly girthy, and you have no doubt that he’s going to stretch you out deliciously. Experimentally, you wrap your fingers around before gently squeezing.

Namjoon rolls his eyes at your ministration - the action eliciting a short gasp from his lips as he bucks into your hand. Dropping his head to your chest, you feel him nuzzle the top swells of your breast, while he lightly presses tender kisses into your flesh. Between your thighs, his fingers rove further down your slit, until his digits are teasing your entrance. A low mewl falls from your lips, your hips writhing into his hand as you try to get him to push his fingers into you. God, you desperately need something to fill the ache.

“Joonie- want your fingers,” you murmur, not even bothering to hide the pout in your voice. Namjoon laughs lowly under you, and with an apologetic kiss to your sternum, his digits lightly push against the tight ring of your entrance. Fingernail circling your entrance - almost tauntingly - Namjoon relishes in the way it twitches for him: the tight rings clenching and unclenching involuntarily. Growing tired of his teasing motions, “Joonie, please,” you practically beg.

The ache between your thighs throbs with a vengeance, causing you to squeeze his cock. Hand stroking up to his tip, you take a moment to admire the bulbous mushroom tip. The head is sticky with precum, your thumb swiping over the slit, wetting the tip in his own translucent precum. Rhythmically, your hand begins pumping around the rest of his shaft - your fingers tightening around his girth intermittently.

“Sh-shit. Fuck, that feels good. God, your hand feels so fucking good,” Namjoon praises. He rewards your actions by deliberately pushing two fingers into you - your wetness allowing them to slide in with ease. Drawing sharp raspy breaths from you, Namjoon shallowly begins pumping them into you - never delving deeper than the first knuckle. With each movement, you feel your entrance open and close, your eyes rolling back at the sensation. Indolently, he pumps them - matching the pace of your hand stroking his cock.

Nuzzling into your chest, Namjoon breathes in your scent deeply, relishing in the comforting smell. It’s heavier this time - the smell of your arousal and sweat mixing in with your natural one. Yet, he doesn’t mind. Not when it smells wholly inebriating. “What do you want, baby?” Namjoon murmurs. His voice is low, dropping a couple of octaves, and the baritone sound thrums against your skin: causing goosebumps to flit over your arms.

Unhesitantly, “you,” you whisper back. Letting out an appreciative groan, Namjoon slides his fingers deeper into you. With a keening whine, you begin pumping his length harder - groaning in pleasure when his fingers inside you also pick up the pace.

“You’re so fucking - shit - tight. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock,” Namjoon breathily whispers. His words cause you to clench involuntarily - your hand tightening around his shaft. God, you don’t think you can wait any longer. You need to feel him inside you. Right now. Something you express to Namjoon.

“Want your cock- Joonie, please,” you implore, pressing your lips harshly against his.

Drawing away, “fuck, okay. Let’s get these off,” Namjoon says as hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. Shuffling away from him for a moment - the both of you quickly remove your last articles of clothing: leaving you completely naked.

With not a moment to spare, Namjoon wraps his hands around your thighs, before pulling you back onto his lap. Hastily, you throw your leg over his hip, straddling him once again. One hand on your ass, and other gripping his shaft, Namjoon strokes the velvet head of his cock through your folds: the tip dragging over your clit before catching on your entrance. You hiss at the heated sensation of his cock, your eyelids fluttering when you feel it press against your entrance.

When he’s firmly positioned at your dripping hole, you slowly begin lowering yourself onto him. The moment his head breaches your walls, however, you let out a deep, guttural groan. Completely doused in your wetness, his cock should slide easily into you - however, his girth is so thick that you can’t help but mewl in pain. Squirming over him, your breath turns laboured as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock - the ache of the stretch burning your walls, the pain mingling with pleasure.

“Fucking hell- how are you this- fuck- big?” you keen, your eyes screwing shut. Namjoon leans forward - the movement causing him to sink another inch into you and making you gasp. Dropping his head to your neck, he peppers comforting kisses into your skin while his hand soothingly rubs over your lower back.

Nonetheless, there’s pleasure mixed in the pain and you continue lowering yourself onto his cock. Inch by inch, you take him into you - his cock slowly opening up your walls around his unrelenting length. With every second that passes, you feel his cock drag deliberately against your inner walls - your cunt clenching rhythmically - and forcing you to feel every ridge and vein of his thick girth. Eventually, you sink completely down - your hips pressed against his - and his cockhead kissing the soft walls of your cervix.

There’s an intense pressure deep within your stomach - Namjoon’s cock throbbing erratically inside you. The feel of him nestled so deep within you has you sighing in pleasure. There’s still a dull ache - from how wide he stretches you out; your walls pulled apart to their limits - but pleasure soon replaces the stinging ache. Gradually, you adjust to Namjoon’s size and with an experimental swivel of your hips, you cry out in pleasure.

“God, your pussy is so fucking tight - and wet - shit,” Namjoon slurs - euphoric elation dripping in his words. Breath laboured, you begin lifting yourself over his cock, your back arching - pushing your chest into you - as you ride his tremendous length. With every flex of your thighs, you can’t help but cry out in pleasure. Not only is Namjoon’s cock thick, but he’s incredibly long too, his length just slightly curved: allowing his head to drag against that sweet spot inside you.

Large hands falling to your hips, Namjoon grips them tightly as he helps you move on top of him. Every movement has hot spikes of pleasure jolting across your skin, your toes curling in elation while your stomach twists and knots violently. The rapturous bliss of your impending orgasm calling to you, you begin bouncing your ass over him. Namjoon groans at the feeling, and unable to help himself, one of his hand moves to splay across the curve of your back - pulling you flush into his chest.

Skin melding together, your sweat acting as a glue, you lose yourself into the feel of Namjoon. Abruptly, your arms shoot out and you wrap them around his chest, your fingernails digging into his flesh as you hold him close to you. With his cock buried deep into you, and his head buried in the crook of your neck - Namjoon is all you can feel. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, your nose burrowing into the side of his head as you breathe in his calming scent deeply.

From under you, Namjoon fucks his cock upward - his thrusts pushing him deeper into you. The additional sensation causes you to whimper, your ass twitching as sheer, unadulterated bliss begins flitting through your bloodstream. You’re close - so close you can practically taste your orgasm; even if your mouth is completely dry from gasping his name over and over again.

Feeling your walls begin to pulsate erratically - the rhythm of their contracting falling out of sync - Namjoon knows you’re close. All of a sudden, he pulls you even closer to him - a feat you had considered wholly impossible, considering you’re clinging to each other - and then, he’s flipping you over. Squealing in surprise, you feel your body bounce on the bed, before Namjoon falls over you.

The entire time he moves your bodies, his cock stays buried deep inside your pussy - your walls involuntarily clenching around his shaft. In your new position, Namjoon’s entire weight is braced on one hand beside you, his other hand resting on your back - under your body - as he pulls your chest into his. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he grinds his cock into you. With your new positioning, every time Namjoon thrusts into you, his pelvic bone drags along your clit: making you cry out his name in pleasure.

“J-J-Joon, I-I-I’m c-close,” you stutter out, your back arching as you push your hips into his.

Nodding above you, Namjoon gasps and pants for air. “Fuck baby, me too,” he replies. Legs shooting out, you wrap them around his hips, and heels digging into the fleshy globes of Namjoon’s ass, you pull him deeper into you.

Slowly, yet fervently, the two of your rock into each other - chasing your own highs. You cling desperately to him, your arms still holding onto his shoulders as you writhe together. Then, needing to feel his lips on yours, you strain your neck and press your mouth to his. Instantly, his mouth opens, and your tongues begin lashing against each other leisurely - Namjoon’s intoxicating essence coating your tastebuds.

One of his hands twist between your body before you feel him stroke your clit. Breaking from the kiss, you cry out against his lips: your breaths heavily intermingling together. “Cum for me, baby,” Namjoon urges. His command, paired with the way his fingers dance across your clit, and how his cock drags against your sweet spot, has you careening off of the brink of pleasure.

Mouth falling open, your muscles strain as you choke out a cry of euphoria. Head lolling back, your back arches violently as you twist and contort in pleasure under Namjoon. Rapturous ecstasy ricochets through your entire body, your muscles trembling violently as you cum around his cock. Feeling your pussy tighten in a vice-like grip, your inner walls gushing with wetness as you milk his shaft, Namjoon lets out a deep roar. His own head falls onto your chest, and with a few more thrusts, he buries his cock as deep inside you as he can before he cums.

Through the haze of your pleasure, you feel Namjoon’s cock swell inside you. All of a sudden, his cock begins throbbing - and then you feel it. Rope after rope of thick cum shoots inside you, his seed filling up your inner walls and painting them white. His warm cum fills you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Once he’s done, you feel him soften inside you - and slowly, Namjoon pulls out.

You whine in protest, your walls a little raw from his thick girth - and when he retreats completely, you can’t help but jerk: his head popping out of you. Instantly, his cum begins leaking out, causing you to mewl in pleasure - your entrance throbbing and only forcing more of his cum out. Namjoon sits back on his heels, both your chests heaving as you attempt to catch your breath.

From his position, his eyes drop to your pussy - a low groan of appreciation resounding from deep within his throat. Your legs are spread wide, and your pussy slightly gaping from where he’d fucked you open. But he’s more focused on how his cum leaks out of you, his seed dripping down your ass. Chest swelling with pride, he can’t help but let out a lazy smile.

Leaning forward, he presses one hand onto your inner thigh, while the other swipes two fingers between your slit, gathering up his cum, and pushing it back into you. You wince at the sensation, a low groan slipping from your throat at the sensitivity. Pressing a kiss to your knee, “We’ll have to clean you up,” Namjoon mumbles, even as he continues pushing his fingers inside you.

“Later, I’m tired,” you murmur back whinily. When the ache of oversensitivity gets too much, you bat Namjoon’s hand away before closing your legs. With a low laugh, Namjoon presses an apologetic kiss to your knee.

Then, he flops down next to you. Feeling your best friend settle next to you, you automatically shift in bed - turning and curling into his body. Instinctively, Namjoon’s strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer into him. Hazily, your head still swimming in its post-orgasmic bliss, you feel Namjoon push your hair out of your face. You smile softly at the tender gesture, your smile widening when you feel him brush his lips against your temple affectionately.

“I love you,” Namjoon whispers.

Shuffling closer into him, you press your naked body into his. Easily, your legs tangle together, and closing your eyes, you let his words and the comfort of his presence wash over you.

Sleep already fogging your mind, “I love you too,” you mumble back. Then, after a short pause, “we’re together right…?” you murmur. Namjoon laughs at the slight slur to your voice.

Lazily, he picks up your hand, and entwining your fingers together, he brings them to his lips. Pressing his lips to each of your knuckles in a soft kiss, he nods, “we’re together, baby,” he replies. Sighing in pleasure, you nod happily before snuggling into him. Breathing in his scent, you let the mix of fabric softener, lotion and sweat waft over you - the cacophony of fragrances slowly lulling you to sleep.

Hours later, you and Namjoon wake up from your nap - just in time for dinner. With little giggles, you and Namjoon begin cleaning yourselves up - your face scrunching when you wipe the dried up cum between your legs with the damp washcloth Namjoon had given you. Walking over to your suitcase, you pull out a change of underwear, before slipping on your dress from earlier; Namjoon’s face falling when your body is hidden from his view.

“Why are you pouting?” you ask, throwing your hair into a ponytail as you turn around to face him.

“I miss looking at you, already,” Namjoon replies, an exaggerated pout on his face. Rolling your eyes playfully, you walk over to him and press a kiss to his lower jaw.

Then wrapping your arms around his neck, “Well, I miss looking at you too… but, we have all the time later tonight,” you say. Then, you grow quiet. Sensing the nervousness exuding from your being, Namjoon gently places his hands on your hips, before lightly caressing them in comfort. “And… for the rest of our lives,” you continue, the words leaving you in a single breath. There’s uncertainty in your eyes, because really, neither of you had spoken about what you are - you’d just fallen into bed after your confession.

Gaze softening, Namjoon drops his lips to your forehead. “For the rest of our lives,” he repeats - confident resolve heavy in his tone. His words cause a smile to grace your face. Beaming up at him, you draw onto your tiptoes and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Then, pulling away, you take one of his hands into yours, and entwining your fingers together, you tug at him, “alright, come on. We need to go down for dinner before your parents come looking for us,” you say.

Namjoon nods, and the two of you slip out of your bedroom and back downstairs. With each passing moment, you feel dread pool heavily into your stomach. Nervousness grips your entire being, and desperately, you cling tighter to Namjoon - soaking in all the comfort your boyfriend - boyfriend! - offers you. Finally, the two of you step into the kitchen. Immediately, both of Namjoon’s parents turn to him - however, before they can greet you, they halt.

Instantly, their gaze drops to your entwined hands. Time moves past slowly - the seconds passing excruciatingly. The longer they’re silent, the more nervous you grow. Then, after what feels like aeons, Namjoon’s parents both smile.

Eyes twinkling with mirth, “well… finally,” Namjoon’s mother says, a knowing smile on her face.

a/n: thank you i love my man

⇥ Kofi | Masterlist

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

Nickèd Names

Yuu finally learns who her funny Horned Boy is. This one takes place just after the ghost wedding. Content warning for coarse language and frank talk of bodily functions.

As always, check my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag for more, and don’t be afeared to send me a message if you enjoyed something!

~*~*~*~

"You're finally back in class?"

You nodded at Deuce. "Stopped pissing blood every time I sneezed, so I'm back."

There's much to be said for kissing pretty ghost girls, but the main drawback is that when you do, you immediately, catastrophically hemorrhage from every pore as all your organs fail, and even with magical healing, you're still bedridden for a week. You wouldn't be doing that again. Maybe. Eliza was very cute.

"You're back. Excellent." Trein dropped a stack of papers in front of you. "Here's the work you missed."

You blinked up at him in horror. "Professor, I nearly died."

He stared back, face impassive. "You nearly did. And I'm fond of your work ethic. That's why you get this instead of a fail."

"... I'll take that."

~*~*~*~

It's after dark, so he should be along any time now. You set your phone down and wait.

True to form, your funny horned boy is soon sitting on the railing of your balcony, smiling at you. "You're all better now?"

"Better-ish." You might never get to stop taking those pills and supplements. "Why didn't you come by the room?"

"You don't know that I didn't. You slept a fair deal."

"Rude. Let's walk."

~*~*~*~

You're too tired to try the woods, so you're both slowly picking your way around the dorm grounds, your pretty horned boy keeping an eye that you don't trip. You could count the times he's touched you on one hand; when you asked, he said he didn't want to be rude. Perhaps he wasn't as fond of you as he seemed.

A buzz from your phone, Ortho wanted a symptoms check-in. You tapped back that you're fine, and your boy peered over your shoulder, leaning this way and that. Curiosity took the better of you.

"... You do know what a phone is, right?"

He chuckled. "Of course I do, my child of man. Not all technology is unknown in my homeland."

"Do you have one? I can give you my number."

He shook his head. "After I broke my last one, we decided it really wasn't necessary."

"You can replace them, you know."

"It was my... fifth?" He started counting on his hands. "No, sixth. They're delicate. After going through that many in as many weeks, we simply canceled the contract."

Your eyebrows went up through no effort of your own. "Jesus, you have the dropsies that bad?"

"The what?"

"Dropsies.” You mimed opening your hand, dropping something. “You dropped them."

"The first one went that way. Most simply shattered when I pressed the screen too hard, and one Lilia threw against a wall."

You decided to ask Lilia how he know your boy later. "Why'd he do that?"

"I tried to download a game and got, in his words, 'so many viruses.' " He seemed rather proud of himself. "They clearly weren't bad ones, I did not cough once."

"No, honey, that's not how that-" Even in the gloom, you saw he'd turned an alarming shade of red, and you backtracked. "Uh, you want to see anything on mine? I have pictures."

"Only if you don't hand me it."

~*~*~*~

"So there is a camera on this?"

"Yeah, most phones have them. Watch." You opened the camera, and hit the button so that the front camera was on, reflecting your spotty face and a wide-eyed faerie boy behind you. "This one's for selfies."

He made a face of pure confusion, and you hit the button to capture it, and showed him.

"Could you... not do that again? It's not proper." 

"You know it doesn't steal your soul, right?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but again, sheer confusion stopped him until he gathered himself. "You always surprise me. But no, it's that... portraits are a formal thing. You shouldn't share that."

You blinked up at him with your best, sweetest face. "Is this just because you don't want me to ask around for your proper name with it?"

he stopped, blinked, inclined his head. "That didn't occur to me until now, but yes."

"I'll keep it to myself, I promise," you lied, and he believed you, and therefore did not hex your phone when he returned you to your room.

~*~*~*~

It was only partially a lie; you didn't actually show it to anyone. You simply set the picture of you both as your lockscreen, so you could enjoy it anytime. And this was what got Ace staring at your phone like it started sprouting feathers and clucking.

"Why do you have a picture of yourself with Malleus Draconia?"

Ah, so that’s it, you thought to yourself. "Who? That's my Horny Boy."

"what"

"Yeah, he said I could call him whatever I wanted because names are special and he's kind of a dumbass and let me."

Ace put an arm around your shoulder. "Yuu, I need to tell you why that is the second stupidest thing you've done in your life."

~*~*~*~

"He's not scary. You're clearly mistaken."

Ace flailed, halfway between exasperation and disbelief. "He's the strongest magic user in the school! Fifth strongest in the world! He is the Prince of Thorns and a big scary dragon and could kill you in the blink of an eye."

You frowned at him. "He is a great big loser who likes gargoyles and has zero clue about anything, ever. Have you ever actually talked to him?"

Ace gave you his best are-you-fucking-stupid-or-something face. "Of course not. He's also a third year, on top of everything else. I don't want to get turned into a rose bush or something."

"He's actually very easy to talk to. Probably because everyone's too scared to talk to him."You paused. "I'm gonna go talk to him."

"Nope!" Ace pulled you back in to your seat. "What if you curses you because you know his real name?"

"I highly doubt that. Let me go, Ace."

He smirked at you. "If you wanna go so bad then pull away." 

"You know I can't do that, Ace." You're still too weak from your sickroom stay. "If you want me to stay, fine."

So you sat on his lap with a heavy flop, and watched him wince in pain. Even with all the weight lost from your illness, you're still too heavy for him. But he, stubborn brat, still gripped your arm and glared at you.

A battle of wills, one overweight brat and one stubborn weakling, rapidly losing sensation in his legs. "You're not going. I can stay here all day. You'll get bored before I do."

He's not wrong, but you have a secret weapon. "Keep me here and I'll fart on you."

He narrowed his eyes at you. "You can not fart on command."

You leaned over. "You don't know that. For all you know I had cabbage rolls for lunch and it's been brewing all day. You really wanna try me, Trappola?"

He did not want to try you, and, let you go with a grunt of disgust. "If you die, it's not my fault!"

"I'm not gonna die!"

"You said that about the ghost princess!"

"Is everyone going to hold that against me now?"

"YES!"

~*~*~*~

You found your horned boy in a pissing match with Kingscholar, and you decided to be as petty and obnoxious as possible. Walking up behind him - Malleus, what a pretty, pretty name for a witch boy - You simply wrapped your arms around his middle and squeezed, while he froze in place posed like a cowboy about to draw.

Leona started snickering. "Really? You get that few hugs in your life?"

"Shush." You peered under Malleus's arm, while he looked down at you. "Malleus? Can we talk a moment?"

Interesting. He could turn even paler than what he was.

~*~*~*~

"So the entire reason you didn't share who you were is that you thought I wouldn't want to hang out any more."

He nodded. "Most people are afraid of who I am. And you have generally unkind things to say about monarchies, as it is. I did not think you would take the prince thing kindly."

"Well." You shrugged. "Now I know why you kept taking notes whenever I started on that."

"You have many interesting things to say about it!" He brightened considerably. "I couldn't have a shift to elections within my lifetime, obviously, but much of it would be great to try implementing."

"Wouldn't your big scary grandma have anything to say about that?"

His smile was thin, but genuine. "She has much to say on most topics. But, if she did not want me to be exposed to new ideas, she could have simply kept me at home and continued with my private tutors."

You couldn't argue with that. "One last thing, Malleus."

He tilted his head slightly, face faintly pink. How could anyone be scared of him? He's so adorable it's enough to make you sick.

"I don't think I'll call you Horned Boy anymore, now that I know your more proper name."

He looked... disappointed, and you continued. "Mal's a little better for a nickname, yeah? Less of a mouthful."

He made a small noise, considering, before brightening. "Anything that you call me is perfection, my friend."

[funtimebunnyblog]

How do you think the pillar men would react to a s/o who’s pretty innocent and a loveable ray of sunshine? Just the sweetest soul ever. Never having any ill intentions towards anyone ever, even if they’re mean to her. S/o has a lot of empathy and is just Disney princess level of kindness and nurturing. Sorry if that’s specific. I just always love the trope for couple that are opposites attract.

Did you mean: H O L L Y K U J O ???

Holly: Jotaro, make sure you eat all your vegetables 🥰 Jotaro: *is about to tell her to F*** off* All 4 of his new Pillarmen step-dads: 😡😡😡😡 Jotaro: *sweating* Yes Mom... 😰

I agree, dear Anon, I'm a bit of a sucker for big intimidating Pillarmen with a sweet little mate ❤❤❤ I'm even more of a sucker for writing it! 🥰😇😘 Please enjoy!

The Pillarmen (separate) with a sweet and nurturing s/o...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• From the moment he first met you, your kindness was baffling to Kars.

• Even before you two had begun a proper relationship, he took notice that you were always dotting on him.

• Sometimes when he was up in his study, spending hours at his desk as he worked away at piles of paperwork, you would pop in to check up on him every so often with a mug of tea for him in hand; brewed hot and black with no sugar, just the way he liked it.

• Somehow you just always knew what he liked and how he liked it.

• You often brung along a comfortable blanket to drape over his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as you asked him if he needed anything else and encouraged him to take a break if and when he needed it.

• Nothing prompted you do do these things, he never once asked you for anything really, but it seemed as if you went out of your way to show a little kindness every time.

• Kars knew himself to be a cold creature but you were a person who made his frosty heart thaw with the warmth you radiated.

• As a man who considered nature precious life, he found himself admiring how unbelievably good you were with Animals.

• In fact, they just seemed to flock to you!

• Once, when you both went to an Animal shelter to look for a pet to adopt, Kars turned his back for only a minute and came back to find that you had somehow coaxed the meanest and mangiest old cat there into your lap.

• The shelter workers stood there absolutely gobsmacked as they watched the animal, that had scratched and hissed at and bitten anyone and everyone who had even dared to come near it, cuddling in your arms and purring like a kitten.

• "Aren't you just the sweetest thing?~" You giggled, lovingly running a hand on the cats bristly old fur as it rumbled contently, its purr was like a running motor. "What a pretty kitty you are!"

• Kars could only smile softly to himself as you both left the shelter that day with the mean old cat you were still lovingly cradling in your arms.

• He had to admit, even though he was thousands of years old and an Ultimate lifeform; you somehow felt like you were much higher above him, like a benevolent and virtuous Queen.

Esidisi:

• Your sweet and motherly nature was the very first thing to make Esidisi absolutely head over heals for you.

• There were times you made his heart swell to the point of it hurting when he watched you waltz around the house, singing a happy tune as you did chores or cooked.

• Even though you knew he didn't necessarily need to eat, you always questioned if he was hungry and offered to make him food.

• And it was always delicious homemade food at that!

• You absolutely brought life to every room you passed through and it pulsed through everything you made.

• It was as if everything you touched left behind a little magic in his eyes.

• Once, when you two were still in the stages of getting to know one another, you happened to witness him have one of his crying fits for the first time.

• Esidisi had been very stressed that day and of course, it all overwhelmed him and came out in a flood of tears.

• Immediately, you dropped the laundry you were folding the second you heard him start to sob from the other room and ran to see what was going on.

• "Oh my goodness, what happened?" You questioned, coming towards him quickly.

• Even through his barrage of tears, he didn't miss the genuine concern in your voice and the worry etched into your face as you lowered yourself on your knees in front of him, taking his tearstreaked face gently into your hands.

• "Do you need a hug? We can hug!" You told him, opening your arms to him with no hesitation whatsoever as he struggled to get an explanation out through his bawling.

• The way you rubbed his back, crooning for him to take deep breaths, was something that would stay with him forever as usually people tended to just stand back and gawk at him when he was having a meltdown.

• You hardly even knew him and there you were, comforting him and letting him cry all over you as if you had known him your whole life!

• Each time he spent his evenings with his arms wrapped around you as you cooked supper, both of you singing, he was honestly starting to think he had fallen in love with a Goddess in disguise.

Wamuu:

• You were the only person in the world who could make Wamuu, the greatest and fiercest warrior who ever lived, turn into a shy and blushing mess.

• The way you gently touched his arm and smiled up into his face as you spoke to him, asking him if he was hungry or tired after a long day of training, never failed to make this hardened Pillarman turn to mush.

• Your voice was like music to his ears, as if your words always held a secret song.

• When you did things for him, no matter how small on your part, he could always tell it was done purely out of love.

• "I thought you would get cold going out this time of year, so I made you a scarf and mittens!" You said with a smile, presenting him with the hand-knitted treasures one cold winters day when he was getting ready to leave the house.

• Wamuu was never a person to wear clothes at all. In fact, he would never be cold or hot or uncomfortable in any climate in the slightest being an Ultimate lifeform.

• But still, he stared at the folded scarf and mitts with wide eyes, holding them in his hands like one would a baby bird.

• He had seen you knitting on the couch these past few nights, smiling softly to yourself as you hummed and put love in every stitch. He had honestly thought nothing of it at the time but now it all made sense.

• You had spent all your free time making these... just for him?

• From that moment on, whenever he and the other Pillarmen went outside in the snow (doing God-knows-what), you can bet that he was wearing that scarf and mittens.

• With nothing else but his loincloth, of course.

• When the others questioned him as to why he was wearing such ridiculous attire when he had no need for them, he simply stood there with his head held high; his scarf swaying in the wind as he clenched his mittened hands into fists at his sides.

• "With all due respect my Masters; my beloved bride made these for me." He said calmly, the corners of his lips quirking into a soft smile as their expressions morphed into ones of disbelief. "And believe me when I say that I cherish them as much as I cherish her."

• The warrior actually felt a little boost in his pride seeing the little gleam of jealousy in his companions' eyes at his words.

• It only fed his little ego more when he showed up one day with a new knitted hat with a fuzzy pom-pom on top and Esidisi actually cried and asked if you could make one for him too.

Santana:

• Santana had always rightfully believed that all Humans were the same; loud, annoying, primitive, cruel, dangerous...

• That was until he fell in love with you of course.

• You were a kind of Human he wasn't aware existed, a very soft and loving kind.

• You just seemed to radiate feelings that touched his very soul; like a bouncy ball of sunshine.

• If anyone had ever done something even borderline disrespectful to Santana, he wouldn't put hesitate them in their rightful place (in his stomach that was) but you on the other hand; you always brushed any rude behavior from another off with a smile.

• Always curious, Santana often found himself hanging around in the background, watching you carry out your housework routine.

• You didn't mind this of course, you always assured him that you liked his company.

• Sometimes you even lovingly referred to him as your shadow.

• "Would you like to help, Santana sweetie?" You asked him with a smile as you peered over your shoulder; you were rolling out and cutting homemade cookie dough to bake.

• He noticed you were always so patient, praising him for the littlest things; guiding his hands with the rolling pin, showing him how to flour the cutter and carefully peel away the outline of the shapes.

• "A star for my star," you beamed, holding up a warm star shaped sugar cookie for him to take when you had pulled them from the oven.

• He blinked as you waved the freshly baked cookie in his face, taking it carefully.

• A little smile curled around the pastry when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, thanking him for his help.

• You and only you could make him feel tingles from the insides out.

• One of his most favourite routines with you was when you sat on the couch on your phone or watching T.V at night; where you'd invite him to lay his head in your lap.

• Your melodic voice could only be compared to a Princess', your little fingers combing out the tangles of his thick red hair as you hummed to him or talked to him about his day before he was lulled to sleep by it all.

• Your sweetness, your warmth, your empathy; it gave him a hope for Humanity he never had before he met you...

[renjuseyo]

I guess i will try requesting then~

Chan

No one ever give male reader chocolate before on valentine day so he's surprised when reader find a chocolate with a note on his desk. It turns out to be chan, who is also jihoon younger brother and reader underclassmen. Reader ask for a time because he never date before and don't know how to do about it. So maybe story about their relationship after the confession? I will leave how it's gonna be turn out to you because i think you're better at this ☺️ 💞

sweetest thing ; dino

group: seventeen

pairing: lee chan / reader (male)

synopsis: you’ve never quite stood out at school, being more of a wallflower. so on valentines’s day, you’re a little more than surprised to see a box of chocolates and a note addressed to you.

genre: fluff, crack if you squint

ahhh my first request!! this prompt is very cute, but i’m not sure if i did a good job with it and i kind of wrote the last part in a rush if you couldn’t tell ^^” i hope this satisfies you, and as always, feedback is much appreciated~

- reader is a part of the ‘96 line. order goes as junhui > hoshi > wonwoo > reader > woozi

title inspiration: sweetest thing by seventeen

“...and of course, like the confident leo that i am-”

“-confident? you dropped, ducked and rolled in the convenient store the other day because i mentioned their names. look at me, i’m choi seungcheol who’s head-over-heels in love with yoon jeonghan and joshua hong, but i’m a coward who watches from afar!” wonwoo mocks.

seungcheol sends him his most threatening glare, but wonwoo nonchalantly blinks back. “that’s a thing of the past! i’m a changed man now, wonwoo.”

you walk up the stairs to the third floor laughing. “hyung. i barely know the two of them, but they made more progress establishing a friendship- well, relationship now- than you ever had. you are literally a coward.” seungcheol makes an offended noise as wonwoo cackles behind you, and you spin around to fist bump him. having known the two of them since childhood, you and wonwoo have made it your sole duty to shoot seungcheol down when the opportunity presents itself. the perks of being friends for so long, you suppose.

seungcheol jogs up beside you two, glaring at your smug smirks. “you two are just jealous you’re single! at least i gained the courage to confess to them!” he exclaims, exasperated.

you and wonwoo exchange incredulous looks, and he knows he’s only digging a deeper grave for himself. “firstly, we were the ones that pushed you to even meet up with them,” wonwoo begins.

“and secondly, they were the ones that confessed, because you kept on getting tongue-tied!” you finish. you turn to fist bump each other once again.

the older of you three visibly deflates, throwing his hands up in defeat. “i actually hate you two. can i not have my moment of glory?” he whines.

you roll your eyes as you approach your classroom, sliding the door open. seungcheol’s lingering at the wall, since his class is a few doors down from your’s and wonwoo’s. “you’re getting a little too cocky there, my boy. maybe in five years you can try boasting again.”

“i’m older than you?!”

you stick your tongue out at him, who storms away from you and wonwoo in a huff. your jabs at him have always been made in lighthearted fun, and you know he’d tell you and wonwoo to stop if he truly felt uncomfortable. but making fun of his love life is always amusing, especially since it provides you something new to look forward to amidst the mundane hours of school. it’s not like you and wonwoo have anything going on in your usual life, much less your love life.

but apparently the fates has something in store for you today, because the moment you step into the classroom, you notice two of your classmates lingering by your desk. you recognize them as jeongyeon, your friend and the class president, and soonyoung, a mutual friend of you and wonwoo. “what are you two doing?” you ask, approaching the duo.

“oh, hey (name). we were just passing out papers for ms. park when we noticed this on your desk!” soonyoung explains, pointing towards your desk. your eyes trail towards the small box neatly wrapped with a note tucked in between the ribbon. it’s not surprising to see gifts popping up on people’s desks, especially since today is valentines’ day. but you’re a wallflower, and you’ve never actually received a gift aside from the candy that kids in elementary school passed out to the whole class. if it weren’t for your name written in thick letters, you would’ve mistaken it for someone else’s.

jeongyeon gives you an apologetic look. “sorry (name), i tried dragging soonyoung away, but you know how curious he can be.”

apparently wonwoo knows you’ve never received a gift before either, nudging you with that unmistakable grin on his face. it’s the one he has whenever he makes fun of seungcheol, but this time, it’s directed towards you. “it seems our little (name) here has gotten a valentines’s gift~!” he teases.

you seat yourself at your desk, curiously staring at the present. you have five minutes before class starts, so what harm is there in opening it up? your fingers make quick work of the ribbon, unfurling its shiny restraints off the box. you’re about to unfold the note before you notice three pairs of curious eyes staring at you. “do you mind?” you ask. soonyoung and jeongyeon quickly apologize and straighten up, but wonwoo merely smirks. you make a mental note to apologize to seungcheol for your relentless teasing. reluctantly, you unfold the note and read its contents.

happy valentine’s’ day hyung! i hope this letter reaches you safely :)

~ your secret admirer

ps. i know you don’t like nuts, so i advise you don’t eat the ones on the bottom row! they all have nuts in them. on the other hand, if you don’t like chocolate or are allergic, feel free to give these to someone else! i wouldn’t want to poison you!

you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips, because even if you don’t know who said admirer is, you think that he’s incredibly endearing, if his note is anything to go by. you refold the note and place it on top of your desk. when you remove the lid of the box, you’re surprised to see an assortment of chocolates all with different designs.

jeongyeon gasps in awe. “those are the pricey chocolates from carat, that patisserie! they sell pastries, but i hear their chocolates are wicked good.”

like the best friend that he is, wonwoo leans towards you, wiggling his eyebrows. “expensive chocolates, eh? this admirer of yours must mean serious business if they spent money on you~” he teases.

“he,” you correct, plucking a piece out. “he used hyung.”

wonwoo sighs, wiping away a fake tear. “our son is all grown up now. i feel like a proud dad,” he whistles.

you don’t have time to smack him because the bell rings, signalling the beginning of first period.

when wonwoo approaches you during lunch, you know he has something to share, if the mischievous glint in his eyes is anything to go by. “(name), have you eaten your chocolates yet?” he asks.

you’re already wincing, feeling seungcheol’s piercing eyes at your back. “chocolates? what chocolates?”

wonwoo gives you a knowing smirk, the corners of his lips lifting up like the cheshire cat’s. “he didn’t tell you? our dear boy here-” he pauses to smack your back, though it comes out a little too hard than anticipated. he seems to notice this too, hiding behind seungcheol’s back as you send him a withering glare. “-received a box of chocolates and a confession during first period today,” he explains.

seungcheol gasps with wide eyes. “what! and you didn’t think to tell me?”

you shrug, looking away. “i didn’t think it was-”

“-do not tell me it isn’t that important, because it is! now i get to tease you about your love life,” he cuts off, cackling. you lean forward to steal a kimbap from his lunchbox, eliciting a scream from him. nearby students shoot you three weirded out looks, though you could care less, shoving the kimbap into your mouth.

you roll your eyes at seungcheol’s sullen expression. “to answer your question, wonwoo, no, i have not finished the chocolates. soonyoung helped me eat a few though.”

wonwoo gives you an offended look. “why would you give that leech anything? he’ll just come back for more. plus, they’re a gift from someone else! why would you just give them away?” he asks.

you shrug, pulling a piece out from the box. “eating that many chocolates isn’t good for me. and i don’t really like the nutty ones, so i gave them to soonyoung. it’s not like i’m dumping them away altogether.”

wonwoo shakes his head. “you have no soul. it’s no wonder you’ve been single for so long.”

“i’m sorry for not swooning over a confession, mr. i-know-everything-about-romance,” you retort. you pluck out a diamond-shaped chocolate decorated with hazelnuts and pass it to seungcheol, who devours it the moment he sees it. “plus, that’s not the only gift i’ve gotten.” dragging your backpack towards you, you unzip it to find it overflowing with more boxes. “it seems that at the end of every period, a new box just presents itself on my desk. so far, i’ve gotten chocolates, peach-flavored gummies, a can of iced coffee, and a stuffed dinosaur. they all have cute notes attached to them, too.” the duo coo at the gifts, though you can see them specifically eyeing the consumables.

he seats himself beside you, stealing a piece of chocolate from you. “well, you know jihoon, your neighbor? he said he found another box on your desk and wanted me to give it to you.” he rummages through his backpack and slides out another box with a note attached to it. you and seungcheol curiously eye it before you grab it from wonwoo’s backpack.

“open it!” seungcheol whispers, eyes gleaming with curiosity. you roll your eyes; why are your friends more invested than you are? reluctantly you untie the ribbon and remove the note, but this time you open the box first. you’re surprised to see a slice of strawberry cake nestled inside a plastic container. judging from seungcheol’s dramatic gasp, you guess it’s from the same patisserie. you pay no mind to him though, moving onto the note.

i hope this letter reaches you safely! i got you this cake because i know you like strawberries. do you like them because they’re as sweet as you?

~ your secret admirer, lee

“wow, he’s getting bold! putting out a last name now,” wonwoo chortles.

you turn back to the slice of cake. so far, you know that your secret admirer is younger than you with a last name of lee, and he knows you well enough to know you dislike nuts and like strawberries. before you can narrow down potential admirers, you can hear someone yell out. you barely have time to register a basketball slamming down beside you, startling you so much you nearly fall over.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry!” you look up after recovering from your near-death experience to see chan. he lives right across from you, yet you only know he’s your underclassman and is jihoon’s younger brother. he looks awfully concerned, though you suppose that’s natural, considering how he nearly crushed you with a basketball.

you send him a reassuring smile. “it’s okay.” it may just be your imagination, but you swear you see a blush creeping up his cheeks. perhaps it’s just the heat from the sun, you guess. he bends forward to pick up the ball, apologizing once again, but you catch his eyes lingering on the slice of cake on your lap. you don’t have time to question it though, because he’s already jogging towards his other friends.

wait a minute. your secret admirer is someone younger than you, has the last name of lee, and knows you well enough to discern your likes and dislikes...

“i think i know who my admirer is,” you blurt, staring at chan’s retreating silhouette. seungcheol and wonwoo look surprised; you’ve always been quick at solving problems, but having done so before the end of the school day is an impressive feat, even for you.

“well? out with it!” seungcheol exclaims, eyes wide with anticipation.

you don’t have time to tell him or contemplate your next move, because then the bell rings, signalling the end of lunch.

you’ve laid out a solid plan: confront your secret admirer, turn him down because you have no dating experience whatsoever, and continue your last year smoothly. there should be no hitches in your plan, because having no experience and not wanting to hinder them should be excuse enough. plus, you doubt you’re worthy of being someone’s object of affections for a long time.

it seems your secret admirer isn’t done with his gifts, because even after lunch the gifts have been reappearing. they’re all very sweet, though you wonder why he chose you of all people, especially if the feeling may not be reciprocated. however, there aren’t any more hints that could lead you to him other then the cheesy compliments he writes you.

the school day has officially ended, and everyone is bustling around, desperate to leave. you’re sipping on a bottle of strawberry milk your admirer had gotten you while listening to a heated debate between soonyoung and wonwoo about the superiority of mint chocolate chip ice cream. “you actually have no taste buds, wonu,” soonyoung retorts.

“it tastes like toothpaste. of course you would like it,” wonwoo snaps.

“it tastes like toothpaste,” he mocks. “you haters use the same excuse every time. come back to me when you have a valid reason.”

 “it tasting like toothpaste is reason enough!”

you chuckle at wonwoo’s exasperation. personally you’re on soonyoung’s side in this new debate. wonwoo just doesn’t have taste buds. you’re about to support soonyoung’s side when, from the corner of your eyes, you see jihoon lingering by his desk, as if he’s waiting for something. “hey guys, i’ll be right back.” you excuse yourself from their conversation, eyes never leaving jihoon’s frame.

“wait! (name), mint chocolate chip, yay or nay?” soonyoung hollers.

“yay,” you answer. you can hear soonyoung cheering behind you, probably breaking out into his little victory dance. wonwoo’s muttering something about having tasteless friends, but you’re only half paying attention. you push through clusters of students before stopping in front of jihoon’s desk. “hey, can i talk to you for a moment?”

jihoon looks startled to see you, which only furthers your assumptions. “me?” you nod. “...sure.”

the two of you step out of the classroom and into an empty part of the hallway. a trio of girls passes you two, chatting about their plans for valentines’s day. one girl is talking about taking her girlfriend out to hotpot, while another is talking about binge-watching romance dramas with her boyfriend. you wonder how people can just jump into a relationship with no experience whatsoever. there isn’t a manual to it, so how do people know they’re doing it right?

you’re pulled out of your thoughts when jihoon clears his throat. “listen, correct me if i’m wrong, but i have an idea on why you brought me out here. but my answer is no. i’m sorry, i have a boyfriend, but i have a younger brother who-”

you turn to face him with wide eyes. “wait, what? what did you think i came out here for?”

jihoon gives you an incredulous look. “well, it’s valentines’s day, meaning everyone’s confessing to people they’ve liked. is that not what you’re doing? i’m flattered, but-”

“-i thought you were going to confess to me!” you exclaim. he gives you a blank stare, and suddenly you feel like you’ve been transported to some corny romance comedy. this is obviously the big comedy part. sighing, you pull out the most recent note, waving it around. “you’re younger than me by two months, your last name is lee, and we’re neighbors and classmates. you’ve probably heard me express my disdain for nuts and love for strawberries before. plus, you were the one who gave wonwoo the cake! who else could my secret admirer be?”

all of a sudden, a loud laugh rips out from jihoon’s chest, and you feel like you’re missing something very obvious and very crucial right now. “i admit that you’re handsome, but i have a boyfriend, and i’m very loyal to him.” he pauses to give you a mysterious smile. “but i do know who your secret admirer is.”

you widen your eyes in surprise. “really? who is it?”

he approaches you, pulling out a slip of paper out of his pocket. “i have been the one putting gifts on your desk, but only because i was told to do so.” he hands you the note, and you unfold it and read its contents.

the final note of the day! can you guess who i am? if you so desire, meet me at the basketball court beside the cafeteria after school today :)

~ your secret admirer, lee

“he’s waiting for you.” you look up at jihoon, who’s folding his arms. “now if you’ll excuse me, i’m off to get some boba. oh, and can you tell him he owes me twelve-thousand won? and no skimping this time!”

you’re standing by the cafeteria entrance leading to the basketball court, heart beating at a fast pace. you aren’t sure why you feel so nervous, especially with a solid plan in mind. as you lean against the door, trying to calm your heart rate, you catch chan at the court, shooting hoops. with wobbly legs, you start making your way down the stairs. at the sound of a newcomer, chan stops dribbling the basketball and turns to face you. “oh, hi hyung.” he pauses, watching you nervously look around. “are you waiting for someone, perhaps?”

you nod, eyes wandering the horizon. “you could say that, yeah. what about you?”

“yeah, i’ve been waiting for you.”

today has just been filled with surprises, you note, turning to face chan. he’s giving you an innocent smile, ball tucked between his arm. “i beg your pardon?”

he shrugs, shyly fiddling with the hem of his school uniform. “um... surprise?”

seeing how bashful chan is has you piecing the puzzle pieces together. your secret admirer is younger than you... chan’s your underclassman. his last name is lee... chan’s full name is lee chan. he knows you don’t like nuts but like strawberries... your parents are friends, and his mother always brings over fresh strawberries for you to eat. he’s jihoon’s little brother, so it’s no wonder you came so close. now that you think about it, it makes perfect sense.

...but it doesn’t. because aside from the times you drop food over at their place, you never talk to him. how can he like someone he barely knows?

chan inhales, straightening the wrinkles of his shirt. “um... hi hyung. i’m your secret admirer, and i’ve liked you since i was a first year. it would be really cool if you accepted my confession?” he frames it as a question, probably to make you feel less nervous, but it does nothing to ease your nerves. from the way you’re standing before him, frozen in place, his smile falls. “or not...?”

“i’m flattered, chan, i really am...” you glance up at him, and the sad smile he has on his face, the one bracing for rejection, breaks your heart a little. “but... there’s a few things we have to take in account. first of all, i barely know you. i don’t know about you, but i’m not quite ready to jump into a relationship, much less with someone i barely know, even if we’re neighbors. i also don’t have any experience in dating. and there’s also the age difference. i’m graduating this year. chan, you’re a cool guy, but do you really want to date someone who you barely know, who has no experience, and will be away before you know it?” you ask, listing out the different factors.

if seungcheol or wonwoo were here, they would reprimand you for coming up with excuses. but what else can you do? you’re being realistic, even if it may sound harsh. you look up at chan, who’s sad expression is replaced with one of determination. “all of your reasons do make sense. but hyung, i don’t think you should make judgments on who i am. like you said, we barely know each other, but i would love to get to know you more. you’re really nice, and you’re someone i look up to.” he approaches you with such confidence that you feel yours knees getting weak. “i don’t have any experience, either. and about the age difference... i can always wait. because i really like you, hyung. i understand if you can’t accept this confession, but i just wanted to tell you before you graduate. and truthfully, i’d appreciate it more if you just told me you didn’t like me instead of listing excuses.”

well, your whole plan is thrown out the window now. you gulp at the bitterness seeping through his voice. “the thing is, i don’t know you well enough to make any conclusions.” you pause. “this may sound selfish, but... could you give me some time to figure things out? i wouldn’t be opposed to learning more about you, but i don’t want to make it sound like i’m leading you on. that being said, just because i’m figuring things out doesn’t mean i won’t be upset if you decide to move on. you deserve someone who’s made up their mind, anyways.”

there isn’t an immediate response from chan, which makes you feel anxious. but then he approaches you with a wide grin, his whole face alight with hope. “i can give you all of the time in the world!” he chirps. you aren’t quite sure why he’s so happy... does he really like you enough to behave this way? “i promise you won’t regret being friends with me.”

you smile at his giddiness. “thank you for understanding. i’m really sorry about not being conclusive.”

he shakes his head with such fervor you’re reminded of a golden retriever with his blonde hair and all. “it’s okay. i’ve long accepted that not everyone can be a hundred percent sure about everything like i am. that being said...” he pauses to extend a hand towards you. “hi there, my name is lee chan, a second year. what about you?”

you chuckle. might as well start this friendship on a new foot, you suppose. extending your hand to shake his, you smile. “hi, my name is (first name) (last name), a third year. pleased to meet you.”

and that was two years ago, when you and chan were in your late teens, still navigating the hardships of high school and paving a path towards the future. truthfully, you had forgotten how your relationship with chan began in the first place, considering how you two are close-knit best friends now (though not as close as you are with seungcheol and wonwoo. they wouldn’t allow it, anyways). now, you’re a second year in university, still trying to navigate the trying hardships life throws at you. chan attends the same school as you, majoring in dance.

you’re sitting inside a booth in mcdonald’s with seungcheol and wonwoo, along with the new addition of jihoon. ironically enough, you two had gotten close after that event, and he had quickly assimilated himself into your little group. to seungcheol’s dismay, he’s a carbon copy of you and wonwoo, and now his tormentors have increased by one.

“so, valentines’s’ plans anyone?” you ask, taking a sip from your soda.

seungcheol dreamily sighs. “hannie, shua and i are going to a drive-in theater. aren’t they the best?” you exchange looks with wonwoo and jihoon. even now that they’ve graduated, he’s still hopeless as ever.

“yes. very cool,” jihoon deadpans. seungcheol throws a fry at him, but he catches it in his mouth with scary accuracy. “i don’t understand why people glorify valentines’s day when it’s just a corporate holiday.”

wonwoo snorts, taking a bite from his chicken sandwich. “and yet you’re the one with the most extravagant plans. aren’t you the one who’s going to treat jun to a fancy restaurant and then take him shopping?”

jihoon shrugs. “i’d much rather go to a ramen shop or do something low key, but junhui likes to do fancy things for holidays.” he turns to face you. “what about you, lover boy?”

“who are you calling lover boy?” you ask, stealing one of seungcheol’s fries. “and no, i have no plans. yay for single people.” all of a sudden, the booth falls silent. when you look up, you’re startled to see three pairs of eyes intensely staring you down. “what?”

“you have no right to say that. that’s wonwoo’s phrase.”

“hey!” wonwoo splutters, glaring at jihoon.

“don’t listen to them. but dude, you’re still single?” seungcheol asks.

“why wouldn’t i be?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at them. they all look at one another, and you recognize that look. it’s the one you and wonwoo would give each other whenever seungcheol said something embarrassing in front of his crushes. well, boyfriends now.

seungcheol sighs. “it’s been two years already, (name). you’re telling me now that you and chan are just friends?”

before you can protest, wonwoo takes out his spoon out of his mcflurry, waving it in front of you. “and don’t give me the i’m still thinking crap, because i see the way you look at him. that’s the gayest look you could give someone, and i’m surrounded by gay people.”

if you’re being honest, your impression on chan has improved since becoming friends with him, and you’d be lying if you said you only saw him in a platonic light. but chan has been waiting for you for a while now, so even if you were to jump into a relationship, it would probably take forever to make any progress considering how neither of you have experience. chan deserves better than having to wait around. “he doesn’t-”

“-deserve to wait around for me and he deserves better. we get it, dude, we really do,” jihoon interrupts. “but i’m his older brother, so i know him better than he knows himself. and let me tell you that he’ll wait for you like a puppy until you give him a definitive answer.” he stares you down, and suddenly you realize he’s entered protective brother mode. “if you like him, just tell him. so what if he deserves better? if he thinks so, he’ll tell you. worst comes to worst, you have three other guys to comfort you.” he gestures at seungcheol and wonwoo, who nod.

really, you do understand that the worst that could happen is you feel heartbroken. you know chan isn’t the type to throw you away like trash, botched confession or not. and yet a small part of you is afraid of telling him, because then you’d have to tell him about your insecurities, too.

“i’ll think about it, okay?” you tell them. the trio all give each other another knowing look; the last time you told someone you’d think something out, two years had passed.

“just two guys, sitting five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay~” chan sings from the kitchen.

you roll your eyes, sitting on the couch. “i can’t believe you came here just to raid my fridge.”

he hums, reentering the living room with a bowl of strawberries in hand. he flops down beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulder. you think back to the vine he had been reciting moments ago, because they are definitely not five feet apart, and you’re very much gay. “come on, it’s valentines’s day. you won’t even spare some room for your favorite dongsaeng? what happened to singles for life?” he asks, throwing a strawberry in his mouth.

that’s the problem, you bitterly think to yourself. i kind of don’t want to be single for life. he’s oblivious to your turmoil though, grabbing your phone and scrolling through netflix. you decide to distract yourself by eating your bitterness away, but now your favorite fruit just reminds you of the botched confession from years ago.

you two had decided to binge-watch naruto again, and before you know it, the whole evening has passed by. you’re watching team seven make their way through the forest of death when you feel something on you. chan’s head, you discovered too late, is resting on your shoulder, and now you’re feeling bothered. the problem is, he isn’t even sleeping. “what are you doing?” you ask, nervously laughing.

chan doesn’t say anything, instead moving to lock your hands together. now you’re really bothered. “a little birdie told me that you had something to tell me,” he hums.

you clear your throat. “jihoon wouldn’t appreciate you calling him little,” you laugh. chan giggles at that, but his head or hand never leaves you. he must know about your not-so-platonic feelings now, because before establishing a friendship you two had clearly stated there were to be no hugs or hand holding until you had figured out your feelings. well, here goes nothing, you suppose.

“do-”

“-i think i like you but i’m not experienced and i don’t even know if i want a relationship and you deserve better than waiting around for me,” you blurt. the room suddenly falls silent, the sounds from the television more prominent than ever.

you’re already going through the several stages of regret until chan nuzzles into you, nosing your neck. at this point you might as well die from embarrassment. you’re supposed to be the cool, suave upperclassman chan looks up to, not the flustered puddle he’s reduced you to. his breath is fanning your skin, goosebumps dotting your body. “what did i tell you when i first confessed, hyung? don’t go making assumptions for me.”

you scoot away from him, releasing his hold on your hand. “i don’t even know if you like me still, and even if you did, jumping into a relationship is already going to take time. i’m just wasting your time.”

at this, chan furrows his eyebrows. “you are definitely not wasting my time, hyung. i told you before, didn’t i? i would wait for your answer. and,” he continues, gripping your shoulders. you’re shorter than chan by only a centimeter, yet you feel impossibly small in his hands. “i still like you. the way i feel about you hasn’t wavered once.”

you gulp, face a bright red. “so... what does this mean now? are we boyriends?”

he shrugs. “i’m just as clueless as you, hyung. are labels really a necessity?”

you laugh. “i suppose not, are they?”

“we can figure this out in five more business days,” he jokes, causing you to giggle. he leans forward to wrap his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder again, surprising you.

you grumble, digging your warm face in his shoulder. “when have you gotten so charismatic, chan?” you ask, voice muffled. “you’ve really grown up now.”

chan hums in satisfaction, tightening his grip on you. “learned from jun-hyung. how else do you think he and hyung started dating?”

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 12: café

Character A is stuck working in coffee shop on Christmas Day and Character B is the lonely soul spending their whole day there,, percabeth

Annabeth never thought she’d be the type of person to end up working on Christmas, thousands of miles away from home. She imagined herself at this point in her live with her friends and family, huddled near a fire on Christmas Day.

Instead, this is what she gets.

She gets an uncomfortable table in the corner of a coffee shop, stuck in the middle of a New York winter.

It’s the first time in her life that she didn’t get a warm Christmas, and it’s... different. Not bad, but she misses home. So she supposes this is her attempt to make herself feel better, sitting in a cafe by herself typing away at her computer.

Annabeth sighs, fingers pausing. She honestly doesn’t even know what she’s typing at this point. She’s too distracted by the absence of people around her and wishing that she were anywhere but here.

She doesn’t notice the person behind the counter staring at her until there’s a drink sliding in front of her face. Annabeth looks up in confusion, unaware that they had been so close to her, and is met with a kind smile.

“A drink,” he says, pushing it towards her a little bit more.

She still doesn’t say anything, instead looking back to the drink. It’s a pretty drink, almost too perfect to actually consume. It’s peppermint, no doubt, with the flawless white and red swirls inside the clear cup and steaming out the top.

“You don’t have to pay for it;” he assures her. She drags her eyes back to his, sees him leaning on the counter in patience, a subtle smile still on his face. His eyes surprise her, a vibrant green. “It’s on me.”

She lets herself break. “Thank you,” she says, pulling it towards her. She brings the cup to her lips and takes the runway sip. The second the taste hits her tongue, she is in love. A small, disbelieving laugh bubbles out of her throat in astonishment.

“Secret recipe,” he tells her, winking. She decides then that she really likes his smile that’s warm and welcoming. His eyes light up brighter than the lights strewn around the cafe, and his body language screams that he’s truly a beautiful soul. There’s a Christmas apron tied around his waist, and his name tag that reads Percy has a reindeer haphazardly drawn on it. It’s cute, and it doesn’t look like he’s the one that drew it.

“Thank you, Percy.”

“Aw, that’s a bit unfair, don’t you think?”

She pauses. “What is?”

“You’re calling me by my name, yet I don’t even know yours.”

She wouldn’t normally tell a stranger her name. She’s careful about those types of things as a girl living alone in a big city, so she doesn’t know what prompts her to answer.

“I’m Annabeth.”

“Annabeth. Huh. That’s a cute name.”

“So is Percy.”

“Please. Percy is the weirdest name you’ve ever heard.”

She laughs, lifting and pinching her fingers close together. “Only a little bit.”

“I blame my mom.” Percy moves to put a few of the things around him away. He’s not looking at her as he asks, “What are you doing here on Christmas, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“What are you doing working here on Christmas?” she counters, but not unkindly.

“You answer a question with a question?”

“You just did the same thing.”

Percy’s hand shoot playfully in surrender. “You got me there.”

Annabeth glances down to get away from his eyes that feel as though they bore down into her soul. “I didn’t have anywhere to go,” she says truthfully.

“No family?”

“California. Couldn’t afford to go this year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Nothing I can do now.”

He pauses in front of her again. “I’ll be your Christmas buddy then, so you’re not all alone.”

Annabeth looks around. Not a single other person is in the shop. She looks back at him, doubtful. “You’re obligated to do that. You work here.”

“I am being one-hundred percent honest when I say I would not care if I got fired from this job,” he says, making her choke slightly. “But you’re wrong. I would have talked to you anyways, even if I was another customer. You looked like you could use someone to talk to.”

“I look lonely,” she summarizes.

“Lonely isn’t a bad thing.”

“It’s getting me your pity points.”

“It really isn’t a bad thing,” he insists. “I want to be talking to you. If I didn’t want to talk, then I wouldn’t have. Besides, I’m in the same boat as you. Family’s a bit far, and I had to work.”

“I’m sorry for making you work then.”

“I’m talking to you at work, not for work. There’s a difference,” he says, eyes gleaming.

She leans forwards. She’s caught onto his game, and she chooses to play along. “So tell me then, Percy, why are you talking to me at work?”

“No one should be alone on Christmas.”

“You wanted to be my special person?”

“Something like that,” he agrees.

“So you made me a drink to win me over, yeah?”

“You got it.”

It’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for her. She wonders if she’s imaging it all. There’s no way someone like this exists. He’s too pure for the world, and she can see it from a mile away with the way he smiles, laughs, and pushes festive drinks in front of strangers because he thinks they deserve so much more than sitting in a lonely coffee shop.

“Do you think you have to work right now?” Annabeth asks, hoping he’ll sit beside her.

Percy looks around the shop. “I don’t know. It’s pretty busy in here.”

She rolls her eyes fondly, patting the stool next to her. “Come. If you’re going to be my Christmas buddy, you have to sit next to me while I work.”

“Not working and sitting next to a pretty girl? Sounds like a win to me.” He comes around the counter and sits next to her. He peers at her computer, and she can tell that he expects her to start typing away. Instead, she shuts the top and rests her hand on her curled-up fist, choosing to talk to him instead.

“Do you have a kid?” she asks, now focused on his nametag again, and the terribly drawn Rudolph.

Percy snorts. “I’m sorry?”

“Your nametag,” she says. “It looks like a toddler did it.”

“Oh. I don’t like you anymore. You insulted my art skills.”

“You actually drew that?”

“No, but what if I did? You could have just destroyed the aspiring artist in me.”

“If you had drawn that, it would’ve stayed as an aspiring artist.”

“That one was good,” he praises, humored. “But in my defense, a toddler did draw it. It just wasn’t my kid because I am twenty-one and have no interest in being a father.”

“No kids?”

“I mean, not now. In the future maybe, with the right person. But not now.”

Annabeth’s heart stutters. She feels like there’s static in the air, thrumming inside her body. “And you haven’t met that right person?”

Percy locks eyes with her and tilts his head earnestly. “I’m still trying to find out.”

And, oh, it makes her feel warm. This isn’t her, but she’s so far in that she doesn’t care. She doesn’t know him, but she is determined to change that because there is just something about him that she needs to figure out. She likes logic and clues, and he is littered with them. There is an equation, and she thinks that just maybe, together they are the solution.

“You’re trying to figure it out about who?” she asks.

Percy must catch her lie because he smirks at her, and she is compelled to kiss the smirk away. “It’s this girl. I haven’t known her long, but she really likes coffee. She’s also so determined, wanting to build a future. I mean, she works on Christmas alone in a café. A lot of people would find it weird, but she’s lucky I find it cute.”

“She sounds familiar. Do I know her?”

Percy hums. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Bummer.” A silence settles between them, but it’s not awkward. She uses the time to look over him shamelessly. He lets her, and returns the favor himself, making her feel beautiful with every agonizing trace of his eyes against her. “What would the girl need to do to get a chance with you?” “Here’s the thing. I like this girl very much. She’d probably think it was weird how much I liked her, but I’ve actually seen her in the shop a million times before, which is probably weirder now that I think about it. But I have her order memorized and have been trying to figure out how to ask her out for the past few weeks. I didn’t get to ask her out until recently though.”

“What did she say?”

Percy bites his bottom lip, a teasing smile, and hands the reigns to her. “You tell me.”

“But her answer would depend on where you want to take her!”

“I thought a cute first date would be on Christmas, actually. I have a small group of friends coming over, maybe two or three, and we’re going to watch movies all night and eat candy. Everyone will be in sweaters and sweatpants, and there will be lots of snuggles. There’s just one thing.”

Annabeth has to force her breathing to calm because this game is going to drive her insane. “And what is that?”

“Do you think she’ll think that’s coming on too strong?”

“Not at all,” she whispers. “She’ll probably say that sounds like the best date she could ever dream of.”

“Then I guess I have to take this girl on a date,” he says.

“I guess you do.”

“Do you think it would be okay if I kissed this girl too? Even if I’ve only known her for around half an hour?”

“That depends on if she believes in love at first sight.” “Does she?”

“She didn’t,” she answers honestly, “until now.”

“So she believes in love at first sight?”

“Let’s call it a Christmas miracle.”

“And she wants me to kiss her?”

“She’ll be upset if you don’t.”

Percy’s eyes are full of every emotion, gorgeous and loving. “Then I guess I have to fulfil.”

And when he pulls her closer to him, settling his lips on hers, she feels content. He’s warm and soft and beautiful and perfect, and she could linger in this moment forever. He pulls away but she follows, desperate to prolong the moment, and he complies.

By the time he pulls away, they’re both breathless. Percy’s breaths hit her lips with every inhale. His eyes are closed, his forehead against hers, and she can’t help the smile that spreads across her face.

“When can they go on that date?” she whispers.

“Why not now?”

Her heart flutters. “Now’s good.”

It takes a few minutes for him to close before they’re finally walking out of the store. She thinks he’s going to take her to his apartment but surprises her instead when they end up inside of a cheesy Christmas store. The shelves are lined with Christmas pajamas and socks, and he makes her pick some out.

“It’s not Christmas if you don’t look like a candy cane!”

“I don’t like candy canes.”

Percy frowns before spotting a matching pair of socks and pulling them up. “These are perfect! You’d look so cute!”

And yeah, Annabeth thinks she’s falling in love.

There’s something in the air that tells her she’s going to marry this man.

It’s not until three Christmases later that Annabeth is back inside that shop, and Percy is behind the counter. He slides the peppermint mocha in front of her face, and she looks up from her computer long enough to give him a quick kiss. When he comes around the counter, she expects him to sit on the stool next to her.

Instead, he gets down on one knee.

[omgrachwrites]

Our Souls Crave This Magic- Chapter Two

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Reader

Summary: All you want is a quiet year of university as you and your best friend, Edmund move to New York City. Though, that all changes when you meet the spoiled trust fund brat, Caspian. College au.

Warnings: fluff, slow burn romance, swearing, mentions of sex, enemies to lovers

Words: 2590

Disclaimer: This gif doesn’t belong to me and all characters are 18+

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this part! I forgot how bad I was at writing party scenes 🙃 I didn’t mean for this to be actual enemies to lovers but this is the way this is turning out! Please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

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Chapter Two - If Only For Tonight

Caspian grimaced as he walked through the cool streets of New York with Edmund; he always tried to never judge a book by its cover because he didn’t want to be like his parents. But, it was hard not to judge, this was a seedy part of town where muggings and drugs were rife. Caspian wouldn’t usually be caught dead in this part of town. Edmund had invited him to a college party, Caspian had thought about saying no but he didn’t want to alienate himself and he actually really liked Edmund.

Ed had even convinced Caspian to join him at Aslan’s – somewhere where Caspian had never set foot – for a couple of drinks beforehand. Caspian didn’t want to leave his friend alone, especially when Ed had ulterior motives for going to Aslan’s, the girl he fancied was going.

Ed looked back at Caspian and grinned, choking on a laugh, “oh, come on, don’t look so glum, mate, tonight is gonna be great!”

Caspian rolled his eyes at Ed as he raked his fingers through his hair, “I hope that you appreciate what I’m willing to go through for you,” Caspian grumbled as they walked into the bar.

Caspian wrinkled his nose and tried not to sneer at his surroundings, the air reeked of stale alcohol and cigarettes as the music pounded in his ears, “Ed, you’re here!” there was a loud giggle as a beautiful girl with golden blonde hair ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him.

Edmund chuckled and blushed, it was so obvious that this was the girl that he fancied, when the girl pulled back with a grin, Ed gestured over at Caspian, “Caspian, this is Lilly, Lilly, this is Caspian.”

Caspian lifted his hand in a small wave and Lilly smiled, “it’s nice to meet you,” her gaze hardly lingered on him before she gazed back up at Ed with a wistful look in her eyes. Caspian hid a smile; it was obvious that Lilly held a torch for Edmund.

Shaking his head in amusement, he looked towards the bar and what he saw there almost made him choke on nothing. There was a girl with her back towards him, leaning up over the bar, wearing a pair of black killer heels. Caspian really tried not to stare but her lace crimson dress had ridden up enough to show the garters of the suspenders she wore.

“You’re staring, Caspian,” Ed said and Caspian could hear the smirk in his friend’s voice.

“No, I’m not,” he jolted guiltily and turned back to look at Ed, feeling like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Lilly raised an eyebrow as she looked at the bar, “hey, Y/N!”

Caspian did a double take, his stomach performing somersaults when the girl in the crimson dress – with the amazing legs – turned around and Caspian realised who he’d just been checking out. Y/N grinned, she looked just as beautiful in the front as she did from behind, Caspian just wished that she wasn’t so irritating.

Y/N gave Ed a hug while she nodded at Caspian, with the hint of a smirk on her face as she took a sip of her cocktail, “Ed and Cas, sounds like a shitty superhero show.”

Edmund rolled his eyes as they walked towards the bar, narrowly missing getting splashed with beer, “I’ll pretend that you didn’t just say that, I thought that you were working tonight,” Ed raised an eyebrow.

Y/N had had to reject so many invitations to parties in the past month because she was working, Y/N shrugged, “I was, Aslan heard about the party so let me clock of early,” she grinned before turning back to Caspian with her eyebrows raised and he tried not to let his eyes linger away from her face, “I’m surprised to see you in a place like this, thought it was too good for you. Never thought you’d climb down from your ivory tower long enough to join us mere mortals in the real world,” her tone was teasing and it surprisingly seemed to lack the venom her voice usually held.

Nevertheless, Caspian still scoffed as a bottle of beer was placed in front of him, “trust me, this is the last time you’ll ever see me in here.”

Y/N laughed, biting her lip as Caspian watched her lips touch the sugared rim of her glass and she took a small sip, “I’m going to put a better song on,” she smirked, letting her hand linger on Caspian’s chest as she brushed up against him before eventually walking past him to get to the juke box in one corner of the room.

After a little while – and a few beers – Caspian relaxed enough to let his guard down and try to enjoy the new experience. Caspian cringed slightly as he watched Edmund trying to chat Lilly up, blissfully unaware that she was trying to do the same thing. Caspian smirked over at Y/N as Ed wrapped his arms around Lilly as he helped her line up her shot on the pool table.

“Do you think that they’re really that oblivious or is just because we’re here, cramping their style?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, “can’t say yet, but I’ll tell you one thing, Lilly is amazing at pool,” she giggled and for the first time, Caspian noticed the way her face lit up and her cheeks dimpled.

Caspian laughed out loud as he looked at the couple at the pool table before glancing back at Y/N who had a wistful sort of look on her face as she watched Ed and Lilly, “you look really pretty tonight, Y/N.”

Y/N stopped stirring her blue cocktail as she looked up at him with a surprised look on her face, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks, “wow, Caspian you’re sweet. Who would have thought it?” there was still that sharp tone in her voice.

Caspian knew that she didn’t like him, he just didn’t understand why, he sighed as he slouched back in his chair and frowned at her, “look, Y/N. I know that you don’t like me, I’m not expecting us to be best friends but please, for tonight can we just put our differences aside?”

Y/N smirked down at the contents of her drink before glancing back up at him from beneath her long lashes, “sure, if only for tonight, I can pretend that you’re someone else, someone likeable. As long as you let loose and take as many jello shots as humanly possible,” she laughed.

Caspian playfully sighed as he rolled his eyes, “alright, Miss Y/L/N, it’s a deal,” he laughed, clinking his glass against hers.

Half an hour later, Caspian was regretting the deal that he’d made with Y/N. He was standing in front of a huge frat house where drunken people were falling out of, left, right and centre. Was this really going to be his college experience? Caspian wanted to break away from his parents’ traditional views but did he really want to go this far?

Caspian jumped as he felt an elbow in his ribs and discovered that Y/N was grinning at him with her eyebrow raised and her teeth digging into her lip, “we have a deal, remember? Let loose, that means no judging,” she laughed a she walked in front of the group, “see you suckers later, use protection and all that jazz,” he laughed as she shot them finger guns before running into the frat house.

The party was just like Caspian thought it would be, undignified and rowdy with people practically having sex in public. Caspian tried to enjoy himself but it was hard when all he wanted to do was run out of here and never look back, he also had to reject the same sorority girl multiple times. Plus, he didn’t want to be a third wheel on Ed and Lilly for much longer.

Though, Caspian had to hand it to Y/N, the jello shots were amazing, at first they were disgustingly sweet, the flavour sticking to his tongue but they quickly grew on him. Caspian soon began to feel light headed, he wasn’t drunk, just light headed and the party was far too crowded. He pushed past an idiot who was doing a keg stand and he breathed out in relief when he got outside into the cold night air.

He sighed and leaned against the hard brick of the wall, momentarily closing his eyes. His dark eyes snapped open when he heard a whimper, he knew what happened at these types of parties, and it wasn’t good. What if someone was in trouble? He swallowed and took it upon himself to investigate.

Though, when he turned the corner, he had never wanted to turn back time so much in his life. Y/N was leaning against the wall, caught in a passionate make out session with some curly haired frat boy. She giggled and sighed when the frat boy dipped his hand beneath her skirt and she wrapped one leg around his waist, it didn’t look like she was in trouble.

The jello shots curdled in Caspian’s stomach and he felt like he was about to throw up, though he managed to hold off long enough to run back inside to look for Ed and Lilly.

-----------------------------

You were roused from your sleep in the sweetest way, with soft kisses that trailed from the base of your neck, ending on your shoulder. You snapped your eyes open with a racing heart before you pieced everything together and you relaxed, you had never felt so hungover in your life. Turning over in bed, you smiled at the cute curly haired frat boy who placed a kiss on your nose. He defied all expectations of what you expected a frat boy to be, he was surprisingly sweet, now if you could only remember his name.

The frat boy smiled, his eyes the colour of honey in the weak light of day, “good morning. How you feelin?”

You let out a weak little laugh as you stretched your arms above your head, “like shit,” you hummed and trailed your fingers against his stubbled cheek, “I’m getting in the shower, are you coming?”

Sam – you remembered his name was Sam – grinned as he all but leapt out of bed, pulling on some pants, “fuck, yeah.”

You slipped on Sam’s shirt and giggled as you walked to the bathroom with Sam’s arms wrapped around you from behind. You had barely touched the doorknob before the bathroom door was wrenched open. It was hard to conceal the gasp that threatened to spill from your mouth but you managed it somehow. Caspian was standing on the other side of the door, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His hair was damp, water droplets were sliding down his smooth chest, disappearing beneath his towel.

You swallowed as you quickly turned away from the handsome man, “jesus, Caspian! What the hell are you doing here?!” you yelled, covering your eyes.

“Ed let me crash here last night,” he mumbled, his voice was thick with sleep and when you chanced a glance at him from beneath your fingers you saw that his deep brown eyes were blood shot.

He nodded at you as he slipped past you and Sam with red cheeks, the look on his face made you wince, you knew exactly what that look meant. You bit your lip nervously and looked at Sam who was grinning at you sheepishly, “I think you should go.”

“That’s actually a really good idea,” he gulped, his adam’s apple bobbing as he did so, “I’ll call you or somethin’, doll.”

You let out a relieved breath, shaking your head as you walked into the bathroom and started the shower, your face burning with embarrassment. In the shower you scrubbed your skin beneath the scalding hot water until your skin was red raw and you slipped into some comfy loungewear before taking a deep breath and walking down the stairs.

Ed, Lucy and Caspian (who was thankfully dressed) were all sitting around the table, Caspian and Ed refused to look you in the eye, while Lucy was bright red, a little smile on her face as she pushed a plate of pancakes towards you. The silence was unbearable as you drizzled syrup over your breakfast, adding sprinkles to the top.

“Did your friend not want to stay for breakfast?” Lucy asked, her voice shaking with laughter while Edmund scowled at her.

You let out a sigh as you looked up at the boys, “look I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that I quite clearly kept you up for most of the night,” Ed looked up at you before flushing and looking back down at his breakfast while Caspian kept his eyes on you, narrowing them ever so slightly.

“I’m just sad that you guys didn’t invite me to the party,” Lucy pouted as she stabbed at her pancakes with her fork.

Edmund choked on his coffee as he looked at his sister, his eyes blown wide, “for one, you’re not old enough if you wanted to go to parties at 19, then you should have stayed in England. Two, if going to frat parties has that outcome, then you’re never going to one, ever.”

Caspian chuckled as he ran a hand through his still damp hair and you couldn’t help but watch his movements, you hated to admit it but he looked good in the morning, “you’re just mad that you didn’t get lucky with Lilly.”

The four of you laughed together before Lucy initiated a whole new conversation that broke the tension and for that, you were internally grateful. Everything was going well as everyone tucked into their pancakes, or at least you thought they were going well.

Caspian frowned as he looked up at you, “is that usual for you? Bringing back some guy you hardly know?”

The silence was deafening as you looked up from your breakfast and glared at the handsome man who was sitting opposite you and he didn’t look especially guilty, “what the hell is that supposed to mean? What are you implying?” you asked, getting defensive because you knew exactly what he was implying. You hardly knew Caspian; he was in no position to start judging you.

“Y/N,” Ed trailed off in a warning voice as he looked between you and Caspian with a worried expression on his face.

“No, Ed,” you glared at him before looking back at Caspian who was leaning back in his chair, his eyebrows raised at you, “he’s got something to say, so say it, Cas!” he was silent as he swallowed and he averted his eyes and you scoffed at him, “just as I thought,” you stood up, taking your plate of pancakes, “I’m not ashamed for enjoying sex, even if it is with a stranger. Just because you’re probably a sad virgin doesn’t mean we all have to be. You stay away from me.”

You knew that he was only trying to get underneath your skin, as payback for all the times you got under his skin. Also, you knew that there was no way in hell that someone as good looking as him was a virgin but it made you feel better to insinuate it.

“It would be my pleasure,” he mumbled.

You scowled back at him as you stormed into your room with your blood boiling, you hated him so much.

  -----------------------------

@smiithys​ @elayneblack​ @amelie-black​ @generalblizzarddreamer​ @blackbirddaredevil23​ @whiskeywinter89​

[dramaqueeenamby]

Waves: The Dinner

A/N: Not a single soul asked for this, but I couldn’t shake the idea, so here we are. Let me know if you like Waves content where the twins are older or naw.

Words: 3.5K

Warnings: None

TAGS: @babe-im-bi @notacamelthatsmywife @missyperle @queenoftheworldisdead @tashawar​ @valkryienymph​ @letsshamelessqueen-m​ @liquorlaughslove​ @lettytheletdown​ @hello-therree​ @missdforever​ @mani-lifes​ @toni9​ @koko-michelle

Waves

“You ask him.”

“Me?”

“No. Doggy. Yes, you, dummy.”

Elysha ignored the insult and settled for her initial follow-up question. “Why me?”

“Because he likes you better.”

“Bullshit,” she scoffed, reaching to steal one of Emmett’s pretzels. She scowled, however, when he snatched it from her and swallowed it whole. “Creep.”

“Lee, you know the rules.” The twins neglected to hide their surprise when Christopher sauntered into the kitchen, a faux stern expression on his face. “No bullying each other when the other person can hear it.” 

While Elysha smirked, Emmett rolled his eyes and muttered, “told you.”

Christopher chuckled and walked to the fridge, leaning over to pull out the pack of meat he’d pulled from the freezer the night before. “So, I take it you don’t want us to go to the dealership this weekend, eh?”

As Emmett’s eyes lit up with excitement, Elysha groaned and crossed her arms. “Papa, that’s not fair. Why is it he gets a new car and I don’t?”

“Because your brother held up his end of the bargain, while you, my beautiful little girl, did not,” Christopher reminded, handing the meat to Emmett who placed it on the counter and waited for his dad to reach him the rest of the ingredients. He checked the time on his Apple watch and mentally cursed. Damn, it was already time for dinner.

Elysha was seconds away from pouting and stomping. “Papa, I saved up money, too.”

“Yes, you did,” Christopher agreed, closing the fridge with a bottle of beer in one hand. “And you spent it all on a pair of boots.”

“But they were Gucci!”

“Good luck driving Gucci to school next week.”

“Shut up, Emmett!”

“What did I just say about bullying?” Christopher lectured as he instructed Emmett to hand him the stainless steel skillet. “Not when the other person can hear it.” A beat. “And you’ll be driving your sister to school, mate, so don’t be too smug.”

Elysha rolled her eyes and caught the way Emmett nodded his head in their father’s direction, eyes widening to convey the unspoken but urgent message.

Do it now!

Clearing her throat, she sauntered over to the counter where her father was starting to prep, hopping up, and earning a sideway glance.

“You’re lucky your mom’s not here,” he murmured, failing to tell her to get down. “Alright, what is it and how much is it gonna cost me?”

She shrugged casually. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Christopher wasn’t even trying to hide his disbelief. “Elysha, do I need to call our lawyer?”

“Papa,” she interjected with the sweetest smile that she could muster. “Emmett and I were wondering, if, well-” She took a deep breath while playing with her fingers. “We want to invite two people over for dinner.”

Christopher looked over at the meat. “How much do you think they’ll eat?”

“Not tonight,” Emmett interjected. “Maybe this Friday?” He took a deep breath, scratching the back of his neck. “And it’s not just any two people, dad. It’s….the two people we’re talking to.”

Deep down, Christopher knew what his kids were trying to tell, err, ask him. However, if he wasn’t anything else, he was stubborn and could play the hell out of the obtuse role. “Jesus, all the people you have in my house for parties and you mean to tell me you two only talk to two of them?”

“No, papa, he means talking to, as if, ya know, dating.” A beat. “And mama said this is her house, you’re just a renter.”

“What? When did she say--never mind.” He could come back to that. One problem at a time. “So, why invite them over for dinner? Why not just throw another party you think your mother and me won’t find out about?”

Emmett ignored the sly remark about the parties. His dad was right. “Because we actually want you guys to meet them.”

Christopher carried the bowl over to the sink, turning on the faucet. “Is that so?” He saw the kids nod out the corner of his eye and asked, “have you asked your mother about this?”

“Not yet,” Elysha answered. “We figured we’d ask you first since you actually do all the cooking.”

“And because we were also hoping you could ask her for us.

“See, push long enough, and the truth always comes out from you two.” As the twins exchanged nonverbal communication, Christopher pondered their question. In the long line of expensive and wild things his kids had requested over the years, this was relatively tame, and it would cost nothing. Nothing monetary, at least. “Fine. Friday at 5. I’ll talk to your mother.”

“Seriously?” Elysha didn’t want to give him time to rethink his answer. Hopping off the counter, she gave him a tight side hug. “Thank you, papa. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled dismissively, seconds before Elysha buzzed out of the kitchen to call Jason and tell him that they were on.

“Thank you, dad.” Emmett kept it brief, squeezing his dad’s shoulders while sliding his phone out his pocket to see if Madi could Facetime when Christopher called out.

“Where are you going, mate? It’s your night to help me fix dinner.”

“But--”

“Unless you want to switch shifts with your sister, so you clean and she helps.”

He could have put up a fight, but considering Christopher had already agreed to both the dinner and talking to Summer for them, Emmett realized he had to pick his battles.

“What do you need me to do?”

------

“What are they even doing dating in the first place? They should be focused on school.”

“Babe, they’re straight A Honor Roll students.”

“Well, then, their sports.”

Summer sighed, securing the silk scarf around her edges. “Both are captains.”

“Work with me here, Elsa.”

She looked at him through her vanity mirror, eyebrow raised. “You want my help?” Standing up, she sauntered over to her husband, placing her arms around his waist. “Let it go, Kristoff.”

“Summer, our children are in the middle of a teenlife crisis. This is no time for games.”

She rolled her eyes and pushed him away, going to remove the decorative pillows from their bed. “Most parents would kill to have their kids let them know who they’re dating--”

“They’re not dating them. They’re talking.”

“--Our kids are inviting them over just so they can meet us, and you’re upset?” Hearing it aloud made her laugh. “Baby, people are dying. Find something else to grow gray hairs over.”

Christopher paused, watching her peel back her side of the blankets and climb in. “That’s low, swimming pool. Even for you.” A beat. “Maybe they’re being blackmailed.”

Summer sighed as he finally joined her in bed. She moved her body across the mattress, pressing herself into his side as he wrapped his arms around her. “You need a hobby.”

“How can I enjoy life when my children are suffering?”

“Oh my god.” Summer sat up in the bed and forced him on his back, climbing on top of him, hands restricting his wrist. “Christopher, the kids are alright. You, however, I am starting to worry about.” Any trace of humor depleted as she frowned while caressing his cheek, fingers playing with the hair of his beard. Scruffy Christopher was always her favorite. “Our babies are growing up, babe. We can’t stop it, no matter how much we may want to. We just have to be there for them, be supportive of them, so long as they’re not hurting themselves or anybody.” She moved her index finger to his mouth to silence him. “You will be fine, sir.”

He sighed, gently moving her hands up and down her sides. “How can you be so calm about this?”

“Oh, I’m imploding on the inside,” she admitted casually, lowering herself so her lips grazed his. “But, I’m also an EGOT winner, baby.” She moved her mouth to his ear, giving a slight tug with her teeth. “I can fake anything.”

Summer yelped when he switched so that his body was over his. “Not anything.”

------

“This is a bad idea. A terrible idea.”

Emmett looked over at Madi who was currently looking into her compact mirror, applying another unnecessary layer of mascara. She caught him looking and motioned to the road. “Focus.”

Emmett rolled his eyes and reached over, placing a hand on her lap. “Would you relax? They’re going to love you.”

“That’s easy for you to say. They’re your parents.” She leaned her head against the car window, mindful of her bun. It wasn’t easy fighting box braids in a bun, and she surely did not have time to do a redo. “You don’t get it. Your parents are….you freaking mom is….she’s my idol. She’s every little black girl’s idol, and now I’m just supposed to walk up to her, extend my hand, and say, ‘Hi, Mrs. Hemsworth. I worship you. Also, I’m dating your son.”

Emmett shrugged. “Sounds good to me.” Madi reached over and shrugged him when Emmett grabbed her hand and brought it to her mouth. “I promise it’s going to be fine.”

She sighed, leaning back and looking at him while she gently asked. “How do you do that?”

He chuckled. “Do what?”

“Make me feel better so easily.”

Emmett smiled and winked. “I got my daddy’s charm.”

Madi smirked and lowered the armrest. “You also have his car.”

Emmett sucked his teeth. “I’m getting mine soon.” She laughed. “I’m serious.”

“I’m sure you are, baby. I’m sure you are.”

------

“Are you insane, Elysha?”

She sighed, switching out her textbooks. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Jason’s eyes nearly doubled in size as he stared down at her. “Your dad is going to kill me. That’s the big deal.” Elysha laughed, checking the time on her watch. Being late for class was a pet peeve of hers. There was no excuse. “Oh, I’m glad you find my upcoming murder funny. Why don’t you just livestream it, too?”

“You are completely overreacting,” she sighed, shutting her locker and keeping her hand flat on the locker. “My dad isn’t like that. He’s super chill.”

“Chill?” He repeated her term while accepting the books she handed him so that she could adjust her uniform top. “I’m sorry, but have you seen your dad? He’s freaking huge.”

Sighing, she relieved him from the books after being satisfied with her tie. “Okay, and?”

As she began to walk, Jason kept the same pace with her, lowering his voice so that the other students couldn’t overhear. “Wait, are your uncles going to be there too? Fuck. I’m so screwed.”

While she understood his concern, she couldn’t help but find the whole thing humorous. Everyone seemed to believe her dad’s size meant he was a holy terror when it was the complete opposite. “Jason, my uncles are even more chill than my dad. Trust me.”

“On your mom’s side too?”

She laughed. “Oh no, they’re all crazy.” Elysha placed her arm around his waist when he moved his around her. “No, I promise my parents are going to love you, and that includes my dad.”

“I’m the first guy you’ve ever introduced to them, huh?” Her silence didn’t help. “Even better.”

She stopped walking, forcing him to do the same. Naturally, people walked around them, no one wanting to interrupt one of the “it” couples on campus. “Look, Jason, if you don’t want to do this, then you don’t have to. I just-I just wanted you to meet my parents, because I want them to know about you.”

“Stop,” he interrupted, shaking his head and cupping her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just, I really like you, and I just-I want to make the best first impression that I can.” He dropped his hands, taking hers in his. “I want them to know how crazy I am about their daughter.”

She smiled, looking down to hide her bashfulness, only for him to bring his finger under her chin. He matched her smile. “What time do you want me to be there?”

------

“They’re here!”

Summer and Christopher shared a look, his sigh of exasperation forcing her to walk over to him, placing her hands on his chest. “Be nice.”

“I’m letting them in my house, aren’t I?” Summer slapped his arm, forcing him to relent. “Fine. I’ll be fair. For now.”

“There will be no embarrassing stories or threats of violence issued, do I make myself clear?” Summer wagged her finger and turned away, purposely switching her hips, hiding her smirk when her husband slapped her ass and whistled.

“Mama! Papa!”

“Coming,” Summer called out, speeding up her pace as she made her way out the study and down the hall, allowing a kind smile to grace her face as she was met with her children and their friends.

Elysha was the first to speak, clearing her throat. “Mama, this is--”

“Jason,” she guessed, withholding her laugh when Elysha seemed surprised, while Summer pointed to the tall young man with striking green eyes and dark brown hair that grazed past his ears. Strangely enough, he reminded her of Christopher in some of the family albums she’d been shown during one of the many family dinners with her in-laws.

“I told you I have eyes in the back of my head.” Jason gave a nervous laugh that prompted her to take it easy on him. He seemed terrified.

Finally, he spoke, giving a weak clearing of his throat.. “Yes ma’am. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Elysha cleared her throat, reminding him about the flowers in his hands. “I’m sorry. These are for you.”

“Thank you.” Her smile widened as she sniffed them. “Gardenias. One of my favorites.”

He seemed relieved by that information, prompting her to turn to the young wide eyed girl who also looked as though she was close to passing out.

Emmett took advantage of the opportunity to introduce Madi. Summer smirked when she saw he had his hand on the small of the young lady’s back. “And mama, this is-”

“Madi.” Again, Summer was correct and almost offended by the surprise on their faces. “Do ya’ll not believe me when I tell you that I know everything?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s so nice to meet you as well--”

“--Madi.”

“--I love you.”

They spoke at the same time. Summer laughed and placed her hand on Madi’s shoulder who was clearly mortified by her unintentional confession.

“I mean--I don’t--I mean, I do, but….” Madi shut her eyes and quietly murmured, “I’ll just shut up now.”

Summer shook her head, never once dropping her friendly smile.

“You both need to relax. I promise you have nothing to be nervous about.” She nodded in the direction of the dining room. “Come on.” Summer guided the four to the room, stepping aside to allow them to enter while she turned around to direct them to their seats when Christopher finally decided to make his presence known.

“Sorry about that.” He rubbed his hands on the towel in his hands before tossing it over his shoulder. He approached Madi first. “Madison?”

She was clearly awestruck, eventually shaking her head to accept her handshake. “Please, call me Madi, Mr. Hemsworth. It’s so nice to meet you.”

He waved her off and smiled. “Chris is fine.” That smile dimmed when his eyes landed on Jason. “Hello.”

Elysha grabbed his hand, giving a light squeeze. “Papa, this is Jason.”

“Nice to meet you, Jason,” Christopher forced, squeezing Jason’s hand tighter than necessary but just enough to get his message across. “You play any sports, mate?”

“No. I mean, yes--basketball.” He swallowed deeply, remembering something else. “I also surf as well, Chris.”

“Mr. Hemsworth will be fine,” he corrected.

Summer rolled her eyes and shoved him. “Pay him no mind. Ya’ll sit down and make yourselves comfortable.”

“I’m sure you already have, though.” Christopher joked, earning a glare from Summer. “Come on, babe. No one throws a party like the twins.” A beat. “Speaking of, I’d say we could give you a tour, but I’m sure you both already know your way around.”

“Ignore him,” Summer interjected, shooting him a glare. “He’s still upset that you kids are able to throw a party better than we ever could when we were your age.”

That seemed to alleviate more of Jason’s nerves. “You used to party, Mrs. Hemsworth?”

“Boy,” she laughed. “If you don’t call me Summer.” Elysha smiled up at him, giving him a slight squeeze of his hand. “And what do you mean used to?”

Madi was also fully invested in the conversation, her fangirling almost impossible to contain. “You really are even nicer in person.”

“Don’t be fooled. It’s all an act.” Christopher interjected, walking over to pull the chair out for her. He noticed how Jason did the same for Elysha, and of course, Emmett with Madi.

“Ignore him. He’s actually hired help.”

Summer and Christopher shared a look as he rolled his eyes while murmuring. “Cute.” Sitting in his own seat, he jumped into the questions. “So, kids, tell us about yourselves.”

Madi and Jason shared a look when he told her to go first. Again, something else Christopher noticed.

“Well, I’m a junior, an only child, and my dad is in the Navy--”

“So, your family is stationed here?” Summer surmised.

“Yes ma’am.” Christopher and Summer exchanged a look, but unlike the previous ones, this was not a warning from wife to husband. This one was of silent concern. Madi wasn’t an Australian native. She would eventually return to the states. Both mother and father quietly wondered if that was something Emmett was taking into consideration.

After briefly discussing the shared commonalities of having active duty family members, Christopher turned the question back to Jason. “And what about you, young man?”

Summer contained her sigh at the way his eyes widened before he tentatively spoke. “Well, sir--”

“Chris is fine.”

Both Summer and Elysha looked over at that last statement, Summer with a smirk and Elysha with a small smile. Chris looked at his daughter and shot her a wink.

Jason, to Summer’s happiness, seemed thrilled by the stripping of the formal address.

“I, well, my family is originally from Melbourne--”

“Melbourne native, eh?”

“Yes, sir. My, uh, dad got a job up here when I was eight, and we’ve been here ever since.”

“Any siblings?”

Jason chuckled. “Believe it or not, two. I’m the middle child.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Christopher shrugged. “I’d say we’re the best.”

“Elysha and Madi.” Summer stood up and nodded to the kitchen. “Help me prepare the toss salad.”

“Yes ma’am.” Elysha also stood up and shot a reassuring look to Jason while Emmett gave one to Madi as well. As soon as the ladies were in the kitchen and the swinging doors shut, Summer released a sigh of relief. “Finally, that was too much testosterone.”

Madi laughed. “You and Mr--Chris are really nice, Summer.”

Elysha nodded and playfully bumped Madi with her hip. “Told you they were chill. Even my dad is being surprisingly nice to Jason.”

“Ladies, trust me, if Chris didn’t really like either of you, he would let you know. He’s just giving Jason a hard time because Elysha is his little girl. He’s always going to be protective.” She reached the bowl to Madi while speaking. “Just how I’m protective of my little boy.” Madi’s smile dimmed. “So you can imagine how proud I am to see his amazing taste in women.” She winked and laughed when Madi placed her hand over her chest.

She straightened up and spoke truthfully. “I really do like Emmett, Summer. He’s….he’s amazing.”

“He’s a jerk.”

“Shut it, Elysha,” Summer warned with a small head shake. “You know, Madi, you should join Lee and me on one of our spa days.”

Her jaw dropped. “A-are you serious?” She looked at Elysha who seemed just as thrilled by the idea of a spa day with her mom and good friend.

“Of course, and Emmett told me you’re in theater with Lee, so if you ever need any advice or have any questions, I’m always available.”

“I’m going to pass out.”

Summer laughed and gave Madi a side hug. “Welcome to the family, Ms. Madi.”

Just as Elysha and Madi shared excited squeals, Emmett stuck his head in the door.

“Mama, ya’ll almost done?”

“Boy, don’t rush us.”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Sorry, mama, it’s just that Uncle Liam is here--”

“What?” She interrupted, hand on her hip. “What the hell is he doing here?”

“I don’t know, but dad just asked Jason how he feels about weekly, random drug tests.”

“Christopher!”

[luciferist]

– how the obey me brothers apologize after a fight (pt.2)

> asmodeus

flirting’s in his nature, don’t you know?

and asmo doesn’t mean it! he’s been so good ever since you two become exclusive, he swears... :( and, well, he loves you the most, over anybody else... you should know that by now.

and you do, you really do. but you can’t help but be jealous. how could you not, seeing your EXTREMELY attractive boyfriend unconsciously make everyone he meets fall in love with him?

you decided enough was enough when he had received the sixth love letter of the week and skipped out on your after-school study session to respond to the sender personally. when he finally showed at the library, you were fuming.

“asmo, where have you been? i’ve been waiting for half an hour.” “oh, darling, remember the letter i showed you this morning? i know you told me not to go but i just HAD to personally thank my fan. plus, it’s not like i actually accepted their confession, so it’s fine, right?”

asmo dove in to kiss you on the cheek but you covered his lips and dragged him out of the library. “why don’t you just tell all of your ‘fans’ that we’re dating? they’ll stop and you don’t have to keep showing up to reject them.”

asmo looked perplexed. “what do you mean ‘why’? ‘cause their letters are SO cute! i just love getting them. they’re adorable when they come up to me with red little cheeks and run away all shy. and trust me, i have, but i guess i’m just that irresistible?” he said every word with a smile like nothing he said was wrong. you couldn’t believe him. how could he not get it?

you walked away without a word, when asmo soon followed, chirping “what’s wrong?”s like a little bird. you didn’t respond.

giving him the silent treatment all the way home, you slammed the door on him once you got to your room.

asmo didn’t understand at all, beginning to get irritated that you wouldn’t just TELL him. what did he do wrong? he was just telling the truth, it’s not like he said yes to the person :(

satan passed by and asmo grabbed him, explaining the situation and asking for advice

satan, who quite obviously wanted to leave and Not Listen, tossed out some generic advice: “hm. try imagining yourself in their shoes. how would you feel if _ continuously stood you up to hang out with one of us?”

now alone, he tried that very thing. hmm, well... if _ skipped out on a date to go see mammon or belphie... ugh! that’d make me so mad. i mean, what’s the big deal? they’re mine, not my brothers’, and they should let everyone know. everyone should know by now... i...

and asmo finally understood. it wasn’t a problem of you thinking he was cheating because in the end, you knew he was loyal, but it was a matter of everybody else knowing that he wasn’t available to anyone else, anyone but you. he belonged to you and that was that.

now how could he get mad at you for something so romantic?

knocking on your door, he began to whisper

“honey, i gave it some thought... i belong to you only. oh, well i guess i have a pact with solomon too, but i can break it off if you want me to... and tomorrow i’ll let everyone at school know really clearly that we’re together, so i’m off-limits. i’m sorry for making you feel insecure about our relationship. i’m yours and you’re mine, right? now let me in, i want to give you kisses and show you how much you mean to me.”

> beelzebub (tw: slight physical violence)

beel and you never fight. honest to diavolo, beel is the sweetest boy you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing and has never started a fight with you

if you have a problem or you’re irritated with him, he’ll immediately sit down with you and fix it. will never go to bed with you angry with him. he just can’t stand it :(

well, unless he gets into THAT mood, that is... usually he’s good at not letting it get to that point and staying away until it was resolved

but this time was just bad.

beel saw you waiting for him after fangol practice. you began walking towards him with a big smile but he swerved immediately. he didn’t want to risk anything, especially since he was already irritated

see, usually midway through practice, beel had a small snack (a meal about the size of two people’s lunches) to keep his energy up for the rest of the session. but when he went to go eat it, it wasn’t there... because of that, he fumbled the rest of practice

after this, he was fixated on finding the culprit and making sure they never did it again. little did he know that you secretly took it out during class so he’d be extra hungry. it was friday and you wanted to treat him to a big meal at hell’s kitchen. rookie mistake, really, but you only had him in mind.

you knew he why he seemed a little angry and, thinking you were immune to his food mood swings (IDIOT), caught up to him quickly despite being avoided. “beel! okay, i’ll admit, i was the one who took your food, but-”

you should not have said that before letting him see you.

beel immediately turned around and grabbed your wrist with his eyes blazing, easily shifting to his demon form. he didn’t seem to notice it was you even though he was staring straight into your eyes. “where is it? the food you took, no, stole from me, where is it?”

you tugged and tugged, trying to take your wrist back, but to no avail, until belphie ran up, most likely called by one of beel’s teammates

“BEEL! what are you doing?!” hearing his twin, beel’s trance of fury seemed to dissipate into thin air. “huh?”

finally being able to pull away in beel’s moment of weakness, you quickly drop to the ground in fear. your wrist was aching from being squeezed so hard. you were lucky it wasn’t broken, just beginning to bruise a bit.

beel saw your face and had never felt regret so deeply in his heart ever before this very moment. i... i’m a monster. i can’t believe myself. out of fear of what you might say, he fled the scene, running all the way home and shutting himself in his room.

after that were days of awkward encounters and no speaking at all. truth be told, neither of you were actually angry at each other, but you were frightened of what the other would say, thinking THEY were mad

and so beel’s days of going to sleep thinking you were angry began.

until one night during dinner, you dropped your fork because of your bandaged wrist. beel, being the first to notice, saw you wince in pain too. seeing you in pain was something he’d never been able to stand, so out of pure instinct, he got up and ran around the table to you, gently picking your wrist up in his large hand

with the possibility that you might be angry at him now tossed out of his mind, he picked you up bridal style, excusing you and him and bringing you to his and belphie’s room, placing you gently on the bed

“ah, beel, it’s not that serious...” “no, let me wrap it up again for you. it’s... it’s my fault, after all.” moments of silence passed between you two like air while he carefully wrapped your wrist

suddenly, simultaneously, the same words came out of both your mouths: “i’m sor-” “i’m really so-” you both shut up quickly.

you spoke again first. “beel, it’s not your fault, it’s mine. it was stupid of me to take your food when i should’ve known you’d get mad. it’s my fault i got hurt, so don’t worry. i won’t do it again, i promise.” you tried to smile so he wouldn’t worry

he started shaking his head immediately once you began to speak. kneeling in front of you, beel placed the gentlest kiss onto your padded wrist.

“no, i shouldn’t have reacted like that... i need to work on it but i couldn’t help it. i’m really sorry. i would never want to hurt you. i promise i’ll never hurt you ever again.”

> belphegor

belphie would vehemently deny it with all of his soul, but in many ways, he’s similar to his dear eldest brother lucifer

ESPECIALLY in the way that he’s stubborn as heaven

it got really annoying in the way that he still held onto old beliefs and made jokes about killing off the entire human race

like c’mon man. yeah humans aren’t GREAT but they’re still your people :/

one thing led to another and the next thing you knew, you were yelling “HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF I JUST KILLED EVERYONE IN THE DEVILDOM DIPSHIT??????” and he was yelling “WELL I WOULD LOVE TO SEE YOU TRY!!!!!”

out of utter frustration, you stormed out of the room. you though he changed, you really did, but maybe humans were still a joke to him. you thought that maybe, after falling in love with you, he would see that humans aren’t too bad

and you thought he was sorry for the... unfortunate things he did to you, but maybe that was nothing too.

and on belphie’s side, he didn’t understand either

laying on his bed, he huffed out a big sigh

what’s wrong with them? it was just a joke...

beel walked in munching on a granola bar, just coming back from a workout

“what’s up, belphie? are you okay? you’re in bed but you’re not sleeping.”

belphie sat up, looking very serious. “beel, hypothetically, if _ and i were fighting because i told them all humans except them should die... what would you say?”

beel frowned, shaking his head. “that’s so mean, belphie. why would you say that?”

“HYPOTHETICALLY.”

“okay, well... humans other than _ can’t be that bad. i mean, two of them literally CREATED _. and some of them kept _ company until they met us. humans kept them alive and there are probably a lot of humans that _ loves or admires. so you can’t blame them for being mad when you joked about eradicating them.”

belphie thought and thought about this.

hey... wait a minute. you’re onto something.

out of nowhere, without even responding, belphie rose and speed-walked (he doesn’t run, it’s not cool and it’s tiring) to your room immediately

after knocking on the door, you opened it with your hands on your hips

“what do YOU want?”

belphie cleared his throat, obviously not expecting you to have opened the door so quickly.

“ah, um... sorry for what i said earlier. i didn’t mean it and i won’t say it again. but hey, i was thinking... i don’t know a lot of humans besides you. so what if we took a trip to the human world together? i can meet your family and friends and get a better feel for humans so i know better. how about that?”

part 2 done!! sorry for the delay, anon, please enjoy!! and whoops, these got longer than pt.1 >____<