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svchengss · 3 years ago

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two halves | l.mh

PAIRING. mark lee x reader

GENRE. fluff, heavy angst

WARNINGS. major character death, grief

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

SUMMARY. right after his death, mark watches how you cope with the loss

A/N. i saw this one tiktok and it kinda inspired me to write this

// just to let you guys know, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !! thank you for reading :D

white walls, white room.

mark scrunched his face, his eyelashes slowly fluttering open, the dark brown iris adjusting the size of the pupils due to the brightness of the walls reflected upon it. a soft groan vibrating from his throat, he assessed his surroundings where nobody or nothing else is present. he looked down to inspect his clothing, hoping that it would give him any clue of this room or space he’s in - an all white outfit. this scene looks exactly like the one in the movies where the characters realize they are dead. except this time, he really is.

THE REALIZATION.

the muffled sounds of cries and sobs rang through his eardrums, triggering a reflex to wake up from the state that he thought was a slumber. he is lying on the hospital bed with the light blue clothing piece, faint light illuminating the space where people are huddled up around him. he waved his right hand in the air to let them - who he later remembered as his family members and friends, know that his eyes are already open. nobody moved even the slightest, the atmosphere being very much dead, scent of medicine intoxicating his mind.

then he saw someone who he holds very dear to his heart - you, enter the hospital room, dropping onto her knees as soon as she saw his state of condition. in an instant, he shot up from his lying position and ran over towards the crying you, shoulders shaking and all. bringing his hands to hold you in his embrace, not even a glance spared by you brought a hundred and one questions to him. why didn’t anybody acknowledge him when he woke up? why can’t you feel his touch?

“mark lee. time of death, 10:23 pm,” the tall doctor with glasses rested on the bridge of his nose announced before leaving the room, holding the clipboard close to his chest. mark gauged the monitor screen next to the bed, the line indicating his heartbeat is no longer showing spikes going up and down - instead becoming a flat line, deafening beep present with it. then he sees himself still laying on the white sheets, eyes still closed and no signs of breathing evident. a surge of panic rushed through his veins.

this can’t be real.

mark rushed into the bathroom, a surprised gasp leaving his lips. his body is semi-transparent, the shape of the toilet bowl can be seen through his left shoulder. his body shakes with terror, slapping himself in the cheeks multiple times just to make sure that this whole fiasco is just a nightmare.

oh my god. no, this is real.

mark stood in the back of the crowd, witnessing the funeral of someone and that someone being him. of course, he’s never expected to get the sight of his own service. his mother is standing beside you, her hands rubbing circles onto your back in an attempt to calm your mourning state. you’re still looking ever so pretty, a black chiffon dress on your body with white pearl necklace on your collarbones and your wavy black hair hanging down your shoulders. not that anybody else would notice, it’s someone’s death after all.

“stay strong, y/n. he will always be in our hearts,” the same rhythm of sentence in tones full of pity being directed towards you. mark’s sister enveloped you into a warm hug despite the chilly atmosphere, whispering comforting words into your ears before getting into the family’s car. you’re not going back home, not yet when you still feel reluctant to let him go.

“why did you leave me?” the only coherent words from your hoarse voice can be heard. mark, who is crouching next to you, is holding his tears back. instead, he sends a sorrowful smile - not that you can see him anyway. is there any way to let you know of his presence?

“goodbye, love. i’ll see you tomorrow. i promise,” you dusted the back of your dress from any dirt or debris, leaving a rose on his tombstone. the thing is, he doesn’t want to part from you. and that’s why his figure is seated beside you in the cab. he grazed his thumb on your knuckles, making you feel tingles rushing through. you pushed the slight thought away, you must be tired to be feeling things.

you slowly opened the door to your apartment, you and mark’s to be exact. the whole house is making those memories make their presence in the back of your head again. the kitchen where you two baked cookies for christmas last year. the bedroom where you snuggled upon his chest, not wanting to start your day just yet. the piano where he sang those cheesy songs for you. the living room where you slow danced at 3 in the morning. his favourite mug resting on the countertop, probably will not be used again. this whole situation is too overwhelming for you. you feel weak.

with each day passing by, you didn’t even miss one without a visit to his resting lot. you would tell him stories of how your day went or something that you read which would made him ponder. the words carved on it are already etched onto your brain.

mark lee. a son, a brother and a loving partner.

the clock hanging on the grey wall has it’s arms stretched out to display the time - two in the morning. you can’t sleep just yet, not having any for the past few days even. dark circles are appearing around your eyes, not yet recovered from the puffiness from all the crying. mark’s heart aches everytime he takes upon your state. he feels very guilty, not that death was his choice after all. it’s simply fate, a cycle of life, a destiny that every single creature on this planet will end up with.

you’ve taken the whole month off work, still feeling ever so helpless. in fact, you can’t even remember the last time you’ve stepped out of the apartment, the night before his passing perhaps? you’ve completely shut yourself out from any interactions - deactivating your social media, not accepting any calls. you just need time to heal.

as if you’re being controlled by some type of mastermind, you shoot up on the balls of your feet, pulling away from the couch. those images of you slow dancing with mark, hands in each other’s holds, your chin rested in the crook of his neck and being ever so engrossed in love are coming back more often now. you trudged to the vinyls arranged neatly on the shelf, picking one before placing it on the turntable - frank sinatra, one of his all time favourites.

holding your hands up at about his usual height, you start twirling around. you can almost see the outline of his smile, his features right in front of you. except, he is. he’s been observing your moves the whole night. mirroring your current position, as if you can really see him, it’s a miracle for him. overjoyed actually, he doesn’t realize the salty tears streaming down his cheekbones and so are yours.

“thank you for coming, dear. it’s a pleasure seeing you in what, weeks?” a laugh escaped the woman’s lips. you reciprocated her hug before stepping into the living room. it’s been a long time since you’ve been here, was it in january? mrs. lee had invited you over for a simple dinner, checking up on how you’ve been. you can see that the family is still struggling over his passing, the way his sister’s eyes are not twinkling as usual makes it hard to cover up the lie.

“you see, this was on his high school graduation day. he was very happy that day, doing all sorts of dances and stuff. finally escaping from hell as he said,” she giggled. she’s been displaying all sorts of memoirs to you, photo albums and photographs scattered on the wooden floor. to be honest, you’ve never seen these before. all smiles mark lee, easy to notice among the crowd. not that he’s changed, he’s still that boy now. mark just sat on the couch - his favourite spot, observing the throwback session going on. if he’s still here, his sister for sure is going to tease the hell out of him.

“he told us so much about you, you know? as if everything reminds him of you, that boy is lovestruck. really,” that sudden confession made your tongue dry, unable to find a perfect response. you were really that special to him.

“drive safe honey, you can come over whenever you want. you know you’re always welcome here, right?” mrs. lee handed you the small box filled with some things you’re going to keep. she kissed both of your cheeks, mr. lee standing behind her giving you a small wave. a small smile crept up onto your face before igniting the engine, turning your wheels out of the housing area.

the netflix show is playing on the television, the faint voices of the characters playing in the background. you’re sitting on the floor, flipping through the photo journal you two decorated throughout your one year of relationship. you can see his little scribbles and doodles, often a little dinosaur symbolising your always grumpy personality.

in one photo, a golden birthday hat is nicely placed on your head with him kissing your right cheek. you remember clearly, a surprise party for you last year. in the following ones, they are mostly candid shots - you blowing out the candles while he looks at you full of love, him eating a portion of your dish while you pout your lips. you would say it was the night of your life, spending it with the guy who stole your heart.

the next page of the journal is a shot of mark taking a photo of you in the park. you suppose it was taken by donghyuck? that one picture of you was stuck as his lock screen wallpaper for a while, you remembered getting so embarrassed over it. mark would give you the same excuse every time you questioned him about it, implying that the sight of you would light up his whole day. cheesy really, but that was what remained as memories of the past, tied neatly in your heart.

the rain trickling against your window eventually made you doze off to wonderland, creating the perfect chance for mark to browse through the journal in your hands. carefully lifting it from yours so that you won’t be stirred from your sleep, he settled down in the space beside your sleeping figure. slowly turning the pages, he smiled fondly at each photo holding a thousand moments that can’t be recreated ever again. some of them would make him giggle. he kneeled down slightly to place a soft kiss on your forehead, making you squirm a little due to the faint touch.

“give him a chance. i’m not saying that you should forget mark but it’s been months, you should live up a little,” yerim’s voice sounding concerned from the other end of the line. perhaps she’s right but you just need more time. but how much longer? you’re afraid you yourself have no specific answer for that enquiry.

you’ve been feeling better by now, welcoming people back into your life and carrying out the same daily routine of yours. going to work, buying groceries, going to the drive-thru and whatnot. of course, the void is still obvious - coming back home to an empty atmosphere instead of him waiting for you on the couch, sometimes dozing off, no more weekend cafe runs. but at least you’re trying your best. you bid your goodbyes before tapping the red button, ending the call. plopping the device onto the mattress, you stared at the white ceiling, deep in your own thoughts.

you should give him a chance. live up a little.

yes, you should.

getting hold of the phone and immediately opening the messages app, you searched for jungwoo’s number. he’s been trying to take you out for dinner for a while now. you still remember his exact words, whenever you’re ready he’s always there, waiting for you. you’re not really sure about that particular question but it wouldn't hurt to give it a try, right?

typing in the words ‘okay, sure’ is already a pressure for you but you still proceeded to press the send button. glancing at the clock showing the time, the notification ping redirected your focus onto the screen.

jungwoo: cool, is tomorrow night okay with you? i’ll drive, of course :)

tomorrow night. okay, tomorrow night.

an elegant red gown is wrapping your curves perfectly, a thin necklace with the seashell charm around your neck while your lips is decorated with the dark red tone, highlighting your poise appearance. hearing the doorbell ring, you tidied up the dresser as your eyes landed onto the picture frame holding a photo of you and mark. a sad feeling crept into your heart but you pushed it away, opening the door to reveal jungwoo in a black and white tuxedo.

you would say that the dinner went well, none of his questions or chatters crossing any borderline. he’s just so polite, even you are amused. feeling comfortable with his presence, the small gap in between is eventually closing down since you’ve learned so much about each other during the other few dates. one night completely changed it for you, him offering you a dance at some event he’s bringing you with.

you observed that his moves are slightly similar to mark’s - not completely of course, mark’s is very unique and very…mark-ish. for the first time ever in the recent turn of events, you flashed a genuine smile. one that is not just for show, one that only comes out when you’re truly elated, one that you only manage to give to certain. mark just observed the scene from a distance, admiring how you’ve managed to find the spark of happiness you once lost.

alas, mark saw his other half become full again with another, her eyes twinkling with the same joy but this time, it’s not him in the reflection.

154 notes · View notes

wwilloww · 5 years ago

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tell me what you want | myg

pairings: Yoongi/Reader, (mentions of Yoongi/Namjoon and Namjoon/OC)

genre: 18+. nonidol!au. friends to lovers.

word count: 5.7k

warnings: alcohol use. pining. some minor angst. smut. pwp. penetrative sex. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!). creampie. fluff.

summary: Yoongi teaches you how to ask for what you want.

a/n: This is my very first attempt at writing fanfiction and smut! Thanks so much to my friends Carl and A for supporting me through the writing process and for encouraging me. If you enjoy this, leave a comment: I am so excited to hear what you think!

do not copy, repost, or translate without explicit permission from the author.

The pounding in your head matches the pounding in your chest.

You thought you would be fine, surrounded by your friends. And you are, in a way. After a couple of drinks the tension in your chest has eased and it’s easier to fall into conversation with strangers and friends alike.

After years of hard work and careful saving, you’ve purchased your first apartment. Tonight, you’re hosting a housewarming party that has quickly turned into a full-on house party. There’s nothing like a little spilled beer to baptize a new home.

With the music blasting, and good friends at your side, you almost forget why you’re feeling uncomfortable in the first place: Yoongi.

He’s been a good friend of yours for a long time. You had met back in college, having been paired up for a group project. But when the assignment was completed and turned in, you never stopped hanging out. He kept showing up at your door, beer and pizza in hand and a gummy smile spreading across his face until he was a steady constant in your life. But recently things have started to take a turn. It was a gradual process. Like water slipping underneath the door, your feelings snuck in quietly and devastatingly. And like a slow flood, there was no stopping their gradual rise.

At first you admired him. How caring he was. How intelligent he was. The way his signature no-funny-business attitude took over when he was deep in the process of his passions. How he always seemed to know exactly what to say, while it always took you an extra second to come up with that snappy comeback. How, when he took a second to put his thoughts together, his words spilled like poetry from his lips.

Before you knew it, there was something strange and fluttery pooling in your stomach everytime his name popped up on the screen of your phone or when your friends mentioned he would be stopping by.

You didn’t expect Yoongi to return the feelings. He was always kind to you, helping you with the move, showing up for you at a drop of a hat. But that’s all you thought it was: kindness.

Still, knowing he didn’t feel the same way about you didn’t change the fact that it felt like you had been punched in the gut when you walked into the kitchen and found a very tall and wildly handsome man draped all over Yoongi.

It seemed effortless, the way the strange man so casually ran his fingers through Yoongi’s hair as they chatted with some of your friends. What was this sinking feeling in your gut?

It wasn’t jealousy. At least not over Yoongi’s redirected attention. Instead, you envied the ease with which the beautiful man held onto Yoongi. The way his desire pooled openly in his eyes and settled comfortably throughout his entire body.

Even if you had enough courage to make a move��and enough validation to know it wouldn’t be squandered—you had no idea how to. Every time your interest rose, it became trapped in your throat, leaving you frozen and confused.

With the pit in your stomach still open and yawning, you proceed into the kitchen, slipping your hand into one of your friend’s and tugging her to the counter where you uncap a bottle of vodka out of the cabinet and pull two shot glasses towards you.

“Hana, who—,” you begin to whisper-ask, but you’re interrupted.

“Shots!” a familiar baritone sings into your ear. Yoongi was standing wildly close, his arm already reaching around you to grab a shot glass and then to press you into his side. You stiffen, feeling your heart jump out of your chest at the sudden proximity. “You want one?” he asks the beautiful stranger.

“Only if you’re having one,” the man winks at Yoongi.

“Of course,” Yoongi replies with a coy smile. You feel oddly trapped between the intensity of the two men, the chemistry between them burning. Still, Yoongi winds his arm tight around your waist and, as if its second nature, your hand comes to rest on his stomach. You two could look like a couple like this. You’re not sure if it’s just you, but you think he pulls you closer and when you instinctively grab onto the thin fabric of his shirt, the smooth planes of his stomach tense under your touch.

“Oh,” Yoongi breaks his gaze from the man to look down at you. “By the way, this is Namjoon.”

Your eyes widen for a moment. So this is the infamous Namjoon. Yoongi’s ex. You had been hearing about the complicated ins and outs of their relationship for the past year, usually only after Yoongi had a couple of beers. But Yoongi had never brought Namjoon around to meet his friends, because, quote, “It’s just not that serious.” But here Namjoon was, standing in front of you. While Namjoon had ended things in their most recent breakup, it seemed as if tonight he was doing his best to mend his relationship with Yoongi. Either way, you wipe the surprise off of your face and smile at the man.

“And Namjoon, this is one of my closest friends in the world. She’s the best.”

The f-word hits a little harder than you’d like it to, but you grin up at Yoongi anyways, giving him a playfully light shove.

“Ah, stop, you flatter me,” you tease, but the words seem to fall flat.

The four of you take the shots of vodka with hisses and groans as the burning liquid slides down your throats. Slamming his glass down on the counter, first, Yoongi watches you finish your shot straightfaced.

“Never seen someone make taking a shot look so attractive,” he teases you, laughing.

Still, you blush from his comment. It’s too much. You pull away from Yoongi’s unwavering hold on your waist and tug Hana towards the living room where dancers have congregated.

“I want to dance!” You say, a little too cheerfully.

Hana throws you a sideways glance but ultimately understands. She wraps her arm around your shoulder as you join the group of bopping dancers.

“Let’s distract you,” she says, dramatically spinning you into a dip and you can’t help but giggle at your friend’s absurdity. She holds you tight against her for a song or two, before you break away to dance sporadically as one of your favorite songs comes on.

Here, away from Yoongi, it’s easier to lose yourself, surrounded by your favorite people, the vodka paving a liquid ease through your body. It’s easier to close your eyes and let the bass carry your thoughts.

When you open your eyes, you see Namjoon twirling Hana in a clumsy rendition of a jive, and Yoongi is nowhere to be seen.

The lights go out and a cheer rises up from the living room. The music pauses for a moment before switching to a more sensual groove. You let out a whoop, throw your head back, and start to roll your hips. The only thing lighting the room is a lava lamp that is precariously passed around.

It’s not long before you feel a gentle hand on your back and you find yourself leaning into it, not a single question in your mind. Without looking to see who it is, you reach behind you and pull them flush against your back. It feels good to lean into someone, to have someone wrapped around you--not to mention the hand sliding up your side to rest on your waist does wonders for your bruised ego.

Namjoon is smirking at you as he sways against Hana.

You push your hips back. They meet your movements with their own grinding hips and you can feel strong hands tracing up your sides to guide you into them. Closer. Tracing circles against one another, following, as if with one mind, a shared rhythm.

You know the heat building in you is part this, part the worn-out out tension you feel whenever you’re around Yoongi. But you want to let go. You want to lean into this stranger and just let them take it all away. They press you against them, and you can feel their breath brush against your neck--hot and light and so delightful. You let your neck roll to the side, giving them better access to your warm skin. Fingers trace down the slope of your neck, skate down your side, and press into you. But the pleasure of their heavy touch only lasts for a second because then those same hands are turning you around and you’re face to face with Yoongi’s blooming red cheeks and warm, indecipherable eyes.

You falter through your next movement and Yoongi takes the opportunity to maneuver you through a graceful twirl out onto the dance floor and then back into his arms. It only takes you a moment before you catch up and soon the two of you are dancing, too close for your own good.

If you could just fall into this. Into his hands, into his touch—without explanation, without expectation and let the sinful pleasure of the moment cradle you. Yet, you know that it will never be enough. To answer this desire, even for a moment, is to split yourself open for him.

He meets your movements with his own hips, and this small moment of synergy is enough to send a wave of warmth shooting up your spine.

He leans down, and tucks your hair behind your ear.

His lips brush against you as he whispers, “I want to talk.”

“Not now.”

You try to pull him back into the music, but he steps away.

“We can continue when we can talk,” he says sternly, but his eyes betray something kind as he pinches your chin.

Namjoon leans over to you, as if he had heard the entire exchange. “His bisexual ass is so hard to pin down, you know, metaphorically—but also physically,” he winks at you.

“Let her be,” Yoongi chuckles, but there’s an edge to his voice. Still, he takes Namjoon’s arm and pulls him to the kitchen, reaching up to his ear to say something to him that you don’t quite catch. The pair step into the adjoining room, where Namjoon proceeds to wrap Yoongi in a hug that feels almost too intimate to watch.

You do your best to distract yourself in the blaring music and your friends, but you can’t help but keep Yoongi in the corner of your eye. Within you, a new and uncomfortable tension rises—and you don’t understand it. You already knew he wasn’t interested. Nothing tonight has proven you otherwise.

By the time the party begins to wind down, you’re left stunningly sober and with glasses and half-eaten food all over the apartement.

You wave goodbye to your friends as the crowd trickles out of your new home. Yoongi helps you find misplaced jackets, and as Hana and Namjoon collect their things and head towards the door, Yoongi leans up to Namjoon and presses a kiss against his cheek.

“Get home safe, okay?” he says, chuckling at his ex’s inebriated stumble towards the door.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he does,” Hana sings as the door closes behind the pair.

Yoongi immediately turns to start picking up glasses and brings them to the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you go back with him?” you ask.

“Hana seemed like she was perfectly capable of taking care of him tonight.”

You shot him a confused glance, which he caught. He sets down the glasses he was holding in the sink and turned to you.

“You know me and Namjoon are over right?”

“I don’t know if he knows that.”

Yoongi laughs. “You know—He and Hana—they’re hooking up. He was here for her, not for me.” He chuckles, leaning back with such composure against the kitchen sink. “Sure, we’re still close, but that’s over.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well, you know you don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

“I know,” he says gently, coming over to where you’re drying some dishes to lean his head on your shoulder. “But I want you to know these things, I—,” he takes a deep breath as if he’s steeling himself. “I want to talk about what happened earlier.”

You push away from him and head to the kitchen. “I don’t think there’s really anything to talk about,” you gulp. He follows you anyway.

“I want to talk,” he says again. His voice is level and dry.

“I don’t.”

Your eyes widen as he steps closer and leans over you.

He’s got one hand pressed firmly against the wall by your head. With the other hand, he pulls a streamer out of your hair. But that’s not what you’re focused on. He’s caged you in, towering over you, something dark and unknowable in his gaze.

“Then why make eyes at me all night?” he asks, slowly. “It seems like you want to talk.”

You don’t have an answer, but still you manage to stutter, “I...I just...I have nothing to say.”

“Ah. So this has nothing to say to me?” His hand comes up to cup your face, a calloused thumb running over your burning cheek. As if on instinct, you lean into his touch. It’s been so long since someone touched you like this, like you were something delicate.

He watches your expression carefully, a glimmer of a smirk playing on his lips. “Or this?” He reaches down to grab your hand before drawing it up to brush your palm against your ribcage. Beneath your hand your breath is fluttering—heavy and inconsistent. “Or this?” He draws the pair of your hands upwards to cup the swell of your breast. He spreads his palm over yours, fingers pressing into you. Despite the audacity of his current moves, his touch is gentle and feather-light.

He can feel your heart pounding beneath his touch, pounding like it wants to escape.

“I affect you...” he said, as if the notion surprised him too.

“No. You don’t,” you stutter, your face flushing with the lie.

“...just like you affect me,” he finishes.

“What?” You’re shocked to hear those words fall from his lips.

He smirks down at you.

“Mhmm.”

He leans down to press a kiss against the corner of your mouth.

You stiffen and he pulls back slightly, searching your eyes, waiting for you, waiting for permission. Some very loud voice tells you that to give in is to give yourself up. But then, if his lips on yours isn’t a sign, you’re just not sure what will be.

You barely give it a moment before you pull his taller frame fully to you and press your lips against his. He falters, shocked by the crack in you that he’s finally seeing through. And then he comes to his senses and kisses you back, wrapping his hand behind your head where his fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck. His other hand comes to the gentle valley of your lower back, pressing your torso to his. This kiss is a gentle and nervous search and you find your insides fluttering against his touch.

And then he’s pulling away, taking a half step back and the fear that you thought you had put out of your mind is rushing back in like the tide.

As Yoongi pulls away from your lips, he can feel the crack closing. He can feel you slipping away again. Your eyes shift downward, and you use one arm to wrap around your torso.

“Does that give you anything to say?”

If you didn’t before, you definitely don’t now. It’s as if his touch has stilled every thought in you. Has quieted the voices—all of them—the nagging voice, the one that tells you he’s too good to be true.

“I don’t know how to say it,” you finally murmur.

The silence draws out between the two of you.

“You have to tell me what you want,” he says, shaking his head. “I can’t keep guessing.”

He’s waiting. Waiting for you to say something.

There is this gnawing ache in you, a dull throb in your chest that wants so badly to reach out to him and pull him back into your arms and never let him go. From this place comes a desperate need for him to know just how you deeply feel about him. And yet, as the words rise to your throat, they stop on your tongue. As if by uttering your own desire you will shatter into a thousand pieces.

Fear. That’s what this is.

Your name falls off his lips and you bring yourself to look him in the eyes, your hands still gripping the front of his shirt.

Looking down at you—your eyes wide, your flushed chest, your lips blooming red from his attentions—his heart breaks as he says these next words, “I can’t do this if you can’t talk to me.” His words hit like a boulder dropped on your chest. Your eyebrows shoot up in shock but still, you say nothing.

He nods. Your silence is enough of an answer for him. He turns away from you and swings his jacket over his shoulder, his heart shattering. His hand is on the doorknob.

“Yoongi,” you call. He stops in the doorway. He thinks his name sounds like a song when you say it. “I’m sorry.”

He turns back to you just enough that you see a sad smile tugging at his lips.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hating everything you’ve done up to this point. Hating your cowardice. Hating the part of yourself that stops in fear at every chance of getting close to someone. Of opening up and allowing someone to see that you want, that you crave.

With every ounce of strength you can muster, you push past the doubt, you push past the fear. At last the words are tumbling from your mouth:

“Yoongi, I want you.” Your eyes are still squeezed shut, as if by keeping them closed there’s a chance you can reel your words back in. “I want to let go.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

He strides back from the doorway to you, his eyes burning, a real smile spreading across his face. He presses himself against you again, but this time his movements aren’t searching and hesitant. You’ve both waited so long, there’s nothing to hold back. He lowers his lips to yours before letting his mouth travel over your chin and down your neck. Goosebumps spread like a tide across your skin.

“I need to know you want me too,” you gulp, your fingers tangled in his hair.

“Good girl,” he mumbles against your neck, working his teeth and his tongue against the sensitive skin. “Telling me what you want.” You flush at the praise. “I want you, not just this, but you.”

He bites down on your lip, loving the way your grasp tightens around him and a small oh slips out of you. “I want to wake up with you and fall asleep with you,” his eyes meet yours, “and see you like this, all fucked out and needy for me, every night.” He runs a thumb across your lower lip, loving the way the swollen flesh parts for him. “Do you want that?” You gasp against him, barely getting an mhmm out as he sucks a bruise into your neck.

“Use your words.”

“I do. I want it, too.”

He pulls away from you, holding your head in his large hands. The soft smile spreading across his face is the most delightful thing you’ve seen. It gives you courage.

He’s not lying. He wants you.

Before you can unravel and doubt the thought, you take his hand, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of it as you lead him to your bedroom. He follows without a second’s hesitation, and this moment—you leading without a single question fluttering in your mind—brings something singing and happy to the surface. All that is left is clear and clean and throbbing.

Gently, he guides you onto your back and crawls on top of you, lifting your shirt to kiss and nip up your belly. When he gets to your chest, he pushes your shirt and bra up and latches onto one of your nipples. Your back arches and the buds raise and pucker as his tongue swirls around one before he bites down.

“Oh,” is all you manage to get out. It comes out breathy and Yoongi thinks it’s the most divine sound he’s ever heard.

“All good?” he asks.

“Good—good, keep going.”

Yoongi pays each breast due attention, sucking and biting in the perfect mix of pain and pleasure, before sitting back on his heels. Beneath him, you couldn’t be more gorgeous, hair spread against the pillow, face and chest flushed. In this moment, your guard is down and he’s never seen you this stunning, your body relaxed and preened with desire. Desire for him.

His bulge strains painfully against his jeans. He wants nothing more but to rip off your pants and take you right now, but first he wants to draw more of those beautiful sounds out of you.

Yoongi smirks, an idea crossing his mind, as he continues to play with your nipples. Just enough to keep your eyes fluttering in pleasure, but not nearly enough to bring you the sense of fulfillment you’re desperately searching for.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he says.

Your eyes snap open, searching his. All you find is mischief.

“I want you to touch me.”

“I am touching you.” He slows his ministrations to mere palming.

“No,” you whine, “I want you to touch me.”

“Don’t make me pull it out of you. Tell me exactly what you want.”

He wants to see you beg.

“I want you to touch my pussy. I want your fingers in me. I need you closer,” you all but gush.

“Good girl,” Yoongi coos at you. “Get undressed.”

Hastily, you move to slip your shirt and bra over your head and shimmy your jeans down your legs. Once you’re left in nothing but your underwear, he leans down to kiss you gently, like all of the tenderness in the world could be captured between your lips.

“Turn over.”

You roll over, onto your belly, twisting back in time to see him pull off his shirt. He moves towards you, straddling the backs of your legs and spreading his palms across your ass. “So pretty,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. He slides his finger underneath the band of your underwear before roughly tugging them down, but not all the way off.

Before you know it, the pads of his fingers are brushing against your dripping cunt, exploring the part of you that he only imagined ever getting to see, let alone touch.

“So wet already. Is this all for me?” he asks. You nod into the pillow. With one hand still drawing lazily through your folds, he grabs your hand and guides it to the prominent bulge in his pants. You gasp when you feel how hard he is.

“Do you see what you do to me? I’ve been this way since you thought it would be a good idea to grind your pretty little ass on me in front of all of those people.”

You moan at the words dropping freely and easily from his mouth—a moan cut short by Yoongi thrusting two fingers into your cunt and starting on a nearly punishing pace. Your hands come back up to grab onto the sheets beside your head.

“I want to get you nice and ready for me. Can I stretch you out so you can take me?” It’s more of a statement than a question, but still, you nod, desperately wanting him to, desperately wanting to please him. With two fingers in you, his thumb begins to press at and circle around your swollen clit.

You moan incoherently into the pillow and push your hips back towards him.

He’s watching your every move, lapping up every delicious sound that falls from your lips. He wants to know exactly what will make you tick, what will bring that gorgeous flush to your face—and he’ll do anything to earn it.

All of a sudden, he’s hitting someplace soft and spongy within you, over and over, and it’s like you’ve been shoved off a cliff, tumbling forward in your pleasure. Your orgasm washes over you before you can even say anything. It comes fast and hard and breathlessly. You clench helplessly around his fingers and he outwardly groans at the sight.

“Did you just come?” he asks, incredulously. He pulls his fingers from you and wipes them on his pants.

“I think so,” you gasp, trying to catch your breath, rolling over and propping yourself up on your elbows.

He chuckles.

“That was the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your already rosy cheeks somehow manage to flush even more. He reaches forward to brush your hair out of your face.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks. “We don’t have—”

“No, I want to,” you sit up to reach towards his lips and hook your fingers into the belt loops on his pants. “I want you.”

“Yeah?”

“I want your cock. I want to make you feel good.” You slide your hand to cup his growing erection through his pants and he trembles under your touch.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Take your pants off,” you order, not sure where this boldness is coming from, but relishing in the way it courses through you. The clarity of it, like a rain-bloated river flowing after months of drought.

He does as you say, standing up from the bed to roll his pants down his legs. When he rejoins you on the comforter, he’s just in his boxers.

“Off,” you say as you kiss him. “Take them off.”

He peels them off.

You lock gazes with him and reach down to wrap your hand around his cock. You don’t look away: You want to see every moment of pleasure unravel on his face. You want to know you are the source of his pleasure.

You are rewarded with a moan as you begin to stroke him, rolling your thumb over the head to collect the precum that’s gathered there. He thrusts up into your grasp as you tighten your grip and begin to move a little bit faster. But then just as you begin to lean down to take him in your mouth, his hand comes to rest on yours and he pulls you back up, stopping your movements.

His hand soon comes down to rest on yours, stopping your movements.

“God,” he gasps. “I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

You pout. “But I want to make you feel good.”

“Don’t worry, you are,” he chuckles. But you’re still frowning. He presses a kiss to your lips, pulling your torso against his. “There’s no rush to do everything tonight. We have all the time in the world.” His words make your heart swell.

He guides you onto your back as he comes to straddle you again, hand slowly stroking up and down his length.

“And you want to do this?” he asks. “Like I said, there’s no rush.”

You nod eagerly, biting your lip.

“Good. Spread yourself for me.”

You reach down and spread your lips apart. Despite the simplicity of the action, you can’t help blushing at the sudden and explicit exposure. But it quickly morphs into pleasure as he grasps himself and slides his length along your slick folds, teasing your clit and your entrance.

“Please…” you whimper, your need building to a desperate ache in your abdomen.

“Please, what?”

The words come tumbling without hesitation.

“Please. I need your cock in me now.” He pushes his cock against your clit just to see you gasp. “Please, Yoongi. Please fuck me.”

If he had any resolve to continue teasing you, it is completely dissolved by your begging. He leans forward, placing one hand for support next to your head, and with the other hand, guides his cock to your entrance and slowly begins to slide in.

“Oh god, it’s like you’re fucking made for me,” he groans, pressed in to the hilt. He stills when he’s all the way in, loving the fit of your tight cunt around him.

Finally wrapped around him, you’re entirely blissed out. If only he would goddamn move.

“Yoongi,” you moan, “I need you to move.”

“Alright, baby girl,” he says cooly—but it takes every ounce of strength he has to keep from pounding into you like an animal. He starts moving, slowly, relishing in the drag of his cock against your snug, wet walls. As he begins to set a pace, these warm, wonderful sounds begin to slip out of you. Each one twists something deep in his gut and he groans out your name. “You’re so good for me, making these pretty sounds, taking my cock so well. Making me feel so good.”

You clench around him at the praise and he moans.

The room fills with the sweet sound of skin meeting skin, your breath tangled in a game of push-and-pull.

His hair has fallen onto his forehead, and with the sweat, stuck there, divinely dark. You reach up to push the strands out of his eyes, hooking your thumb in his mouth. He bites down lightly on the digit, his breath coming heavy, his eyes boring into yours. Just the sight of his own pleasure makes you tremble.

You can feel a second orgasm building.

“I-I’m close,” you tell him.

“Come for me,” he pants in your ear. “Be a good girl and come for me again.” You close your eyes and allow the sound of his voice to roll through your body. You can almost trace the pleasure through your veins. It’s building, like a spring in your abdomen, reaching out into your limbs, your throat, your mind—and then it hits something hard and solid. A block in your chest. A place where you want to keep things tight and close and unseen. Let go, you repeat in your mind as you begin to lose acceleration. Just let go!

But it’s gone, that breaking point seems so far away now.

“Baby, come back to me,” he’s saying, and your eyes shoot open. He reaches up to the hand you’ve tangled in your own hair and guides it around him so that it presses against his back. “Just hold onto me. You don’t need to do anything. Just sit in the space in your body where it feels good. Let it feel good.”

He starts rocking against you again. You take a deep breath and wrap your arms fully around his torso. This slight adjustment allows his pelvic bone to rub up against your clit and you arch your back to push as much of yourself towards him as possible.

“Take it slow,” he says, kissing along your collarbone.

You take a deep breath in. On the exhale, you imagine unwinding the wall within your chest. As you continue to breathe, to just feel the way your chest rises, other sensations begin to rise to the surface. Like the sinful sound of Yoongi’s ragged breath edged with the smallest groan every time he exhales. Or the way his consistent pace seems to press deeper into you with each thrust, building a sensation split between pressure and pleasure. And finally, the way there’s an unending heat simmering in your belly, just waiting for you. Just waiting for you to dive in.

Is this what it meant to let go? To give yourself—your pleasure—your control—up? Finding a space to ebb and flow with sensation instead of trying to track pleasure down? As his hands run over your body, you shudder, allowing the sensation of his rhythm, his warmth, and his affection to rip through you.

“Let go, baby. Let go just for me. Let go,” he pants.

That’s all you need. The pool of pleasure growing in your abdomen explodes, ripping through your entire body. You throw your head back, mouth gaping in a silent scream.

Yoongi hisses at the tight sensation of your warm walls are clenching around him. Looking down at you, spine so delicately arched, sweat pasting your baby hairs to your forehead, your nails leaving small half moons in his lower back, it seemed impossible to hold on any longer. With a grunt, he pounds into you, chasing his own high and loving the way you too are unraveling beneath him. With a final thrust, he comes, thick ropes shooting into you.

He collapses on top of you, making sure to roll to his weight slightly to the side so as not to crush you.

For several minutes the only sound in the room is the sound of your panting. Yoongi props his head up so he’s looking up at you from between your breasts.

“You good?”

“More than good,” you smile.

He looks sleepy, eyelids heavy and pleasure-filled. You made a mental note to get up and wash off and pee in a couple minutes, but for now you just want to stay here, your hands tangled in his dark hair, bathing in the comfort of his weight and rhythmic breath against your skin.

There was no denying the pleasure he had led you through in the past hour. But this, his arms wrapped securely around you, with no doubt that he wanted them there, that he wanted you here, was the kind of pleasure that coursed slowly and gently through your entire body.

“Will you stay?” you mumble into his chest.

“I’m staying,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “For a while.”

masterlist

wwilloww on AO3

#yoongi smut #ksmutclub #btsgoldnet #suga smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts #btsff #bts smut

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samwinchestersgf · 4 years ago

Text

sam winchester - jealous

summary: based off “jealous” by labrinth.

warnings: angst. sad. horrible decisons. drunk!y/n. arguing. fluff. a little bit of smut if you squint.

———————————————————————

sam winchester’s point of view.

you’re soaked.

you’re soaked and you’re twirling around in the middle of the wet field. the heavy raindrops dance across your skin and drip down your face. they trace every crevice of your face. they brush against your cheeks. your clothes cling to you in the most inprobable places.

i’m jealous of the rain.

it’s closer than my hands have been. the only part of you i think i’ve ever touched is your hair. it was soft, and smelled good. as i sit here watching you, i wish i could trickle through your hair like the raindrops do.

i'm jealous of the rain

you rakes your hands through your hair with one hand, while using the other to run the blow dryer up and down your locks. your faced turns into one of mischief and determination within a split second, and you turn toward me. the dryer is pointed at me, blowing hot air in my face.

“put your hands up,” you giggle.

i snort, “you caught me.”

“that’s what you get for watching me, creep.” you joke.

i want to tell you that i just can’t help it. you’re so intoxicating. just the sight of you makes me feel high. you pull me toward you, like gravity pulls bricks down to the ground. even your small, mundane tasks make me estatic.

“you just look pretty.” i tell you.

i can tell by your face that you don’t believe me. you think i’m being nice. i’m not just being nice. you’re stunning. “yeah. okay.”

the frigid air blows at you so fiercely that i think you might float away. you thinks it’s funny. i think it’s adorable how you can laugh at the smallest things. you find joy in nature trying to, quite literally, ambush you. thats one of my favorite things about you. you can make light of even the worst situations.

i’m jealous of the wind.

it ripples through your clothes. it makes yoj laugh without fail every time a big gust of it comes hurdling toward you. you force your eyes shut when they start to sting from the pressure. i take the moment to take a real good glance at you and mentally capture the moment. the wind is pressing up against you, and it’s closer than your shadow.

oh, i'm jealous of the wind.

everytime we go out to random bars, i wish you the best of luck finding a man who’s worth your time. i really mean it. you deserve the best of all this world can give.

“i’m so sorry to bail on you. it’s just... he’s really cute.” you smile awkwardly. “please forgive me.”

“there's nothing to forgive.” i smile back, waving you off.

the next morning, you walk in and gently closes the door. your face is bright pink, and you’re smiling. i look up at you, pretending that i havent been watching the door all night in anticipation.

“so..?”

i know what i want you to say. i want you to be torn up over how sleezy and horrible and rude he was. i want this to make you realize that the only one who could treat you right is me.

“i’m not one to kiss and tell, but...” you bite your lip.

i sigh, and put on a fake smile. “oh, i see.”

“yeah. he was really nice.” you shrug.

“did you get his number?” i ask, internally cursing at myself for letting jealousy slip into my tone. it’s hard for me to admit, but i’m jealous of the way you’re happy without me.

“no.” you shake your head. “we both agreed for it to be a one night thing.”

my heart swells a little bit. “oh, okay.”

another day, another town, another case, another bar, and another empty backseat of the impala on our drive home. i lean my head against the window.

“sam, you really need to get laid or something.” dean teases.

i respond with a grunt.

he scoffs, “i’m serious! what’s stopping you?”

i have to lie. it’s not like i can just outright tell him that i’m too consumed by my own jealousy to do anything. especially if i’m jealous of that random man in the bar that y/n went home with. i only saw him for a second.

“nothing, i guess.”

i stare up at the ceiling while i lay in bed. i’m jealous of every night that i don’t spend with you. i let my mind wonder. where are you; what are you doing?

who are you laying next to?

you walk through the door, and like always, you’re in too good of a mood for me to assume that nothing happened. we make small talk, and you sit across from me as we research the case.

you shut your laptop and clear your throat. “sam?”

“yeah?” i look up, startled by your voice.

“what do you think about hunters dating each other?” you swallow.

i shrug. “hunters dating in general is... not always the smartest idea, i guess.”

“yeah, but, that doesn’t mean it couldn’t work.” you reach.

“i mean, i guess it could but, it’s never really been a good idea in the past, so there’s no reason to start now, you know?” i answer.

“yeah, right...” you go quiet.

another night, another bar, another- you know the drill. i’m starting to get bitter. being jealous is never fun, especially when it’s this intense, and goes on for this long.

another morning, you’re smiling. you dont talk as much, or maybe you do, i’m not sure. i’m distracted by your pretty smile.

at the bar that night, you drink a lot. you’re not normally a heavy drinker. you’ll have one or two, just for a small buzz, but i’ve never really seen you drunk. now, you’re getting there.

“sammmmmmmm.”

“hm?” i ask.

“i wanna go homeeeeee.” you draw out your words.

“wow, are you breaking your streak of never sleeping in the same bed twice in a row?” i tease. “or are you going home with someone else?”

“i’m drunk.” you admit.

“you are.” i nod.

“but i’m not drunk enough to lose all common sense.” you continue.

“okay, and?” i tilt my head.

“i know i don’t wanna go home with a stranger.” you tell me.

“okay then.” i nod.

you finish, “i wanna go home with you.”

i laugh, and tell myself you mean it literally. you literally want me to take you home, not sleep with you. “okay, let’s go.”

once we’re at the motel, you sit next to me on the bed. i raise my eyebrows, but brush it off. you’re drunk. you stare at me for a while, and i try to ignore it, but it eventually gets to me.

“y/n, are you okay? you look like you’re about to-“

your lips smash into mine. they taste like beer and cherries and i don’t think i’ll ever want to pull away. having you pressed up against me is more addicting than i ever couldn’t imagined.

“we shouldn’t be doing this.” i mutter when i pull away.

“sam, i’m in love with you.” you argue.

“you’re drunk out of your mind.” i respond. “this... this is wrong.”

your face turns red from embarrassment as you stand up. “you’re right. i should go.”

“y/n, no-“

you’re already up and out the door. i punch the bed. god, im so stupid. i should’ve made it more clear that i wanted to do it as much as you did. now you’re gone, and you think i hate you.

i call you. i call you 10 times and text you twice as much. you don’t answer. they all go straight to voicemail.

i can’t sleep. i can’t sleep because i’m worried about you. your location’s off on your phone. i, once again, don’t know where you are or who you’re with. it’s all my fault.

when the sun finally peeks about the horizon, my phone rings. i pick it up instantly. i doesn’t even finish ringing once.

“y/n, where are you?!” i ask frantically.

“it doesn’t matter. look, i’m sorry about last night.” you deflect.

“no, no. we need to talk about last night. i-“

“we really don’t. i get it, sam. i shouldn’t have tried to make a move on you. you said that hunters shouldn’t ever date because it’s stupid, and i should’ve listened.” you apologize.

“y/n, thats not what i meant.” i deny.

“seriously, you dont have to lie to spare my feelings. i understand.” you swallow. “i have to go.”

you hang up the phone. i run my hands through my hair. i have to fix this. this is going worse than i ever thought it could. sadly, i can’t do anything until you come back.

and, oh, you come back.

the door opens. you don’t look at me, and i respect your embarrassment. i watch you as you talk to dean about the case and ignore me. i know you know i’m looking at you.

dean leaves to get food. you beg to go with him, but he makes you stay. we sit on opposite sides of the room. you stare at your phone, but i know you’re not doing anything on it because there’s a window behind you, and i can see the reflection of your black screen.

“y/n, i know it’s embarrassing, but we need to talk.” i sigh.

“can you please stop?” you snap.

“huh?”

“i get it, you don’t like me. i’m not your type; i’m like your sister; hunters shouldn’t date. rubbing salt in the wound isn’t making it better, okay?” you raise your voice.

“y/n, i never said that.” i explain.

you don’t let me finish. “you know what, we should forget it. i was drunk and horny and i didn’t mean it.”

“what, so that meant nothing to you?” i feel the shame and anger rise inside me.

you hesitate, “no.”

“of course it didn’t.” i let slip.

“excuse me?” you raise your eyebrows.

“of course it didn’t matter to you, y/n! you’re out every night with a different guy, and i was just one of them, wasn’t i?” i yell.

“are you calling me a slut?!” you accuse.

“did i say that?” i groan.

“you’re insinuating it, sam. i’m not dumb. if you have suchna problem with me going out and having fun, then maybe you should say something about it instead of just letting me do it.” you argue.

“why should i? i don’t care.” i rebuttal.

“i know you don’t, that’s the problem. you don’t care about anybody but yourself.” she spits.

“that’s not true, and we both know it.” i shake my head.

“maybe it wasn’t, but now it is. everything’s all about mister sam winchester.” you declare.

“at least i don’t try to sleep with every guy who gives me an ounce of attention. i thought you were smarter than that, y/n.” i shout.

“i wouldn’t have to if my best friend pulled his head out of his ass and give a damn about anyone but himself.” you respond.

i narrow my eyes. “don’t blame me for your problems.”

“why shouldn’t i? you’re the reason i even started doing that.” your voice cracks the tiniest bit.

“what?”

“i started sleeping with all those guys because you don’t like me, and i’m in love with you, and i needed something to get my mind off of you.” you get quieter.

“you’re in love with me?” i ask quietly.

your eyes tear up. “yeah. its a dumb decision, i know. thats why im leaving.”

“no, don’t-“

“i have to, okay? i cant just... be around you like this anymore. it’s killing me.” i can tell you’re not lying. its tearing you up instead.

i watch as you slip through my hands and try to keep it together. i don’t want to cry. i don’t know what to do. taking a leap of faith, i walk across the room and lay my hand on your shoulder. i turn you around and cup your face, pushing our faces together.

you lean up into the kiss and i’m tasked with keeping you up on your toes. that gets exhausting, so i direct you over to the bed and lay you down. things get more and more intense, and close is never close enough.

“stay.” i breathe against your skin.

“i will.” you respond quietly.

#sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester preference #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fluff #sam x reader #sam winchester one shot #sam winchester #sam and dean #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural imagine #dean winchester

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parkeraul · 5 years ago

Note

Tom accidentally exposing your relationship would be hella cute and fluffy

do you also notice? — t.h.

author’s note — hi, my dudes. this is my 1st tom imagine. please, feel free to request me more tholland things.

warnings — fluff.

“i am, actually,” tom says as he reads the questions popping up crazily. “i am going to new york soon and then i’m flying to atlanta before i go back to london.”

it’s been ten minutes since he decided to set up his ipad for an instagram live to chat with his fans, making an improvised tripod with the cushions of the caramel sofa he’s sitting on right now. y/n says nothing, knowing that she’s gotta let tom be sometimes because he somehow trusts his improvising skills blindly. instead, she scrolls through her own phone to keep up with their food delivery status.

“how is it, darlin’?” he asks y/n unworriedly, because the fans are already aware that tom’s taken. as she needs to be silent — because her identity hasn’t been revealed yet — she grimaces and gestures, silently warning that it’s not that close to arrive yet. “what have i ordered?” he reads a question out loud, running his fingers through his messy damp curls. “i ordered good fish n’ chips and she’s gettin’ burger with fries,” looking at y/n, tom answers and takes a sip of his beer before returning to the questions. “i know, i gotta bring her to the english side of the force.” he chuckles, puppy brown eyes squinting as his smile grows.

in between questions and answers, he’s taken by the way y/n’s frame walks throughout the living room. her feet dance around with her favourite pair of fluffy socks, ending up at the end of her shins and beginning of her knees. her thighs are bare, getting slightly covered by her red gym shorts and her torso wears proudly the old jersey of his football team — that she doesn’t really is a fan of, but wears it anyways just to see him weakening at the sight. her hair flies from side to side softly as she quietly performs the songs playing on her (his) airpods, making him laugh randomly and go divided between paying attention to the live or get up and twirl her body all around.

“which holland does she like the most? harry, sam, paddy or me?” tom reads as he frowns. “what kind of question is this? ‘course it’s me,” rolling his eyes, he feels practically attacked. “it’s me, right?” he asks looking at y/n through his lashes, worried smirk adorning his features. when y/n retreats a little, tom’s jaw falls dramatically and his nervous grin grows more. “come on! i’m the one who gets you heart–shaped chocolates!”

y/n can’t help but cover her mouth to hold her laughs. tom watches her with a poker face, smile frozen and he can’t believe his eyes. how ridiculous, he thinks. after breakfast in bed today with her favourite stuff while watching her favourite series, she dares not to agree right at first just to tease him.

“then who it is?” in disbelief, buying her scene 100%, he gets his phone from his pocket. “no, now you tell me who. it. is!” tom laughs, unlocking his screen. “send me on our chat, let’s fuckin’ see!”

she types, eyes watering from how much she’s been giggling and promptly presses the ‘send’ button.

“oh, really?” he reacts, reading the notification on his screen. “look!”

tom shoves the phone in front of the ipad’s camera, the contact name saying my luv 💘 & text saying “tomharrysampaddy” as the label stands right below the time.

“it’s late, tom, go to sleeeeeep! sleepy emoji, sleepy emoji, sleepy emoji,” he reads while he brings his phone back. “i’ll go after the food arrives. i really am starvin’,“ he sighs and y/n wears her slippers, going to the door. “is it here already? it’s here!” tom informs when y/n confirms, cheering like a 5–year–old as she makes her way to the elevator, leaving him alone with the fans.

tom holds the bottle with his right hand and drinks his beer once more, keeping his phone on his left hand as he eyes the new questions coming up on his ipad.

“what’s your wallpaper?” he reads, inching closer and then back to look at the phone. “this is my wallpaper. can y’all see?” tom cleans his notifications and stretches his arm, showing the screen one more time while he tilts his head to the side to get the view of the tablet’s screen.

a picture of him and y/n scrunching their rosy noses to the camera, winter cascading on them and their cheeks are strongly clinging together. their eyes are screaming happiness with a shiny glow, his curls escaping his grey cap and her head is covered by a spider–man cap, thick scarfs swallowing their cheeks and nearly hiding their smiles. looking closely, it’s slightly perceptible that they’re sharing the airpods: he keeps one and she keeps another one. that was y/n’s first day touring london with tom and the scrunchy noses are actually an internal joke — because he said randomly in the middle of the date ‘do you also notice that, if you scrunch your nose on a cold day, it takes a while for it to return to the normal state? watch!’ and spent good 3 minutes scrunching and relaxing his nose muscles to her, as if it was even clear to see. although she shares the feeling, she chose to use it as an eternal teasing. everytime y/n’s got an observation, she lifts her forefinger up in the air and scrunches her nose, starting her phrases with ‘do you also notice that…?’.

“that day was sick, never felt my buttcheeks so cold,” he emphasizes, caressing his own chin as per usual as he remembers about that day and lifting his eyebrows, looking at the picture before locking the phone. “maybe because i was nervous as fuck! i had these reservations at—”

the door opens, y/n walking in with the bags filled with their dinner.

“shit!” tom hisses, hiding his lips with his palm. “damn!”

“what?” she mouths, confused and placing the food on the counter.

“i think i might’ve done something… wrong…” his voice is muffled by his hand and his glance at her is dripping worry.

“what?” she repeats, tone raising just a bit.

tom uncovers his lips, keeping the tip of his forefinger on top of them. it’s too late though, because people know y/n and instantly the messages appearing grow from ‘tom, go to sleep’ to ‘OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S Y/N!’. he lifts his finger, clearing his throat and scrunching his damn nose.

“do you also notice how bad i am at keeping secrets?”

#tomconcepts #ann: the sleepover saga #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfics #tom holland concept #tom holland concepts #tom holland blurb #tom holland blurbs #tom holland x reader #mine #ficsofmine

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kellyxo1 · 6 years ago

Text

The best thing - Rami Malek Imagine

Requested: No

Warnings: Fluff and cute Rami!

Word Count: 2172

~~~~~

''There's is your baby'' The doctor said as she pointed to the tiny human on the screen. I smiled and I felt Rami squeeze my hand. We've been ogether for 3 years now, but a baby wasn't exactly planned. I was 29 and Rami is 37, but still we haven't planned it. Still, we couldn't be more happier. I looked at Rami, and I swear I saw tears glinstering in his eyes.

''Would you like to know the gender?'' She smiled and we nodded. She moved again, and stopped, turning to look at us.

''You two are having a beautiful baby girl, congratulations!'' She beamed and wiped my 22 weeks old belly off. A girl! Rami and I always wanted a girl, but a boy is also welcome The most important thing is that the baby is healthy.

''A girl'' Rami whispered. I looked at him, and saw he had his eyes glued to the screen. I smiled and cupped his cheek, stroking it. He looked at me, and bend down to press a kiss on my lips. He pulled away, and pressed his forehead on mine.

''I love you'' He whispered. I smiled and pecked his lips.

''I love you too'' I said and he kissed my bump, before sitting back down. The doctor came back, and she handed me the ultrasound. I looked at it, as Rami got a text, probaly from one of the boys. Rami had to go shoot a couple of scenes today at Bohemian Rhapsody, and I decided to tag along, to tell the great news. The boys and lucy didn't know we were pregnant. Everytime I went to visit, I managed to cover my growing bump with an oversized sweater, or loose shirt. Rami and I also had an idea for the gender reveal party for our friends and family, so they would find out the gender.

''Love, we have to get going'' Rami snapped me out of my daze. I nodded, and he helped me get up. I put my jacket on, and we headed off to the studio.

When we arrived, everyone was probaly on a break, the perfect moment to announce it.

''Hey guys'' we said as we stood infront of them. they looked up, and saw us, but they also saw that Rami held the ultrasound picture infront of my belly. They all gasped, and Ben was the first who wrapped me in a hug. Ben and I have known eachother since pre school, and sticked together. Both went to acting school, did a couple of movies together, and now we are here.

''Congratulations you guys'' He said and went over to hug Rami. Joe, Gwilym and Lucy pulled us all in a group hug.

''Thanks guys'' I said and Rami wrapped his arms around my waist.

''What's the gender?'' Lucy asked, with a big smile on her face. She also became a very good best friend of mine, as well as the other members. Rami and I smirked at eachother, and turned back to them.

''We know, but we are throwing a gender reveal party tomorrow for you and our family, then you will know the gender'' Rami explained and they all smiled. The producer called them, and Rami was called in for make up and hair.

''I have to go babe, I'll see you tonight'' Rami said and I nodded. He kissed my lips, and stroked my belly, before heading off.

It was the next day, and everything was set in the garden for the gender reveal party. And ou family, friends, and the guys and Lucy were here. Rami and I decided to reveal the gender by popping balloons, and behind the balloons there was the gender reveal on. Ben, Gwilym, Joe and Sami, my dad, and my brother were in a line, and Lucy, my mother, Rami's mother and sister stood in line, to pop the balloons.

''Everyone ready?'' Rami shouted as everyone cheered. I held my brother's son, as I watched Sami throw the first arrow, the first one popped, but there was nothing to be seen yet. Then Rami's mother threw the second, but she missed. Third, was Joe, who also missed. Fourth was Lucy, who popped the middel one. It showed an A. We cheered and next was Gwilym, who also shot good. Then was Jasmine, who got it good again. Then Ben popped one, and it. Now we all saw a G, a S, and an L. and I think they started to guess it. For the next few arrows, the sign of IRl, was shown, and Ben threw the last one, to reveal the G.

''It's a girl!'' He shouted and everyone cheered as my mom hugged me. I felt hands creep around me, and I turned aroundto see Ben. He hugged me, and twirled me around as I giggled. After receving alot of hugs and kisses, we all went for a groups photo. Afer a couple of hours, everyone left and I was laying in bed with Rami. I had my back against the headboard, as Rami stroked my belly.

''I love her already'' He said as I smiled again, stroking my hand through his hair. ''I know we didn't plan her for now, but I do not regret it. There is no one else I would have kids with then you. I love you'' He finished. I felt the tears in my eyes, and kissed his lips.

''I love you too''

These past few months flew by. Rami finished Bohemian Rhapsody, and we were now watching it. We were not further then the beginning, until I felt a really bad cramp going through my belly. I didn't think much of it, until I heard a gasp from beside me.

''Baby. Yo-you-re water broke!'' Rami stuttered. With a confused look, I looked down to my legs, and saw indeed that my water broke! I gasped and clutched my 9 month belly as I felt a heavier cramp go through my belly again.

''Can you stand up?'' Rami asked in a panicked voice, which I think he didn't want to show. I nodded, and he helped me get up. I breathed in and out as he instructed me, before helping me to the car, and dropping the bag in the backseat. He put my seatbelt on for me, and kissed me quickly, before sitting in the driver's seat.

''Ready to have this baby?'' He asked and I nodded, giggling through the pain.

After being in labour for 3 hours, and having to push for only 5 minutes, our beautiful baby girl Shani, Grace, Jones, Said Malek was born. She was the most beautiful baby I've ever seen. She looked so much like Rami. She only had my eyes and nose.

''She's beautiful'' Rami whispered as he layed down beside me in the hospital bed, stroking her head of curls. She moved her tiny head, to the feeling of Rami's hand. I smiled and felt my heart swell with love. I watched as Rai interracted with his daughter, and the smile never fanished from his face.

''You wanna hold her babe?'' I asked as he nodded. He carefully grabbed her from my arms, and he adjusted himself to the cushions of the hospital bed. He held his finger out, and she immidiatly grabbed on it.

''I love you so much'' He whispered to her, and kissed her forehead. I felt tears in my eyes, and I layed my head on his shoulder. He looked at me, with the same smile on his face he had minutes ago.

''And I love you too. So so much'' I kissed his lips, whispered the words back and watched as he interract with our daughter.

There was a knock on the door, and a nurse came in.

''There are some friends for you'' She smiled and we nodded. The door opened, and Lucy, Ben, Joe and Gwilym came in.

''Oh my god she's beautiful'' Lucy said as she kissed my cheek, hugging Rami, and looking at Shani. All the other's congratulated us, and everyone had their turn holding her, and now it was Ben's turn. Lucy handed her to him, and he carefully cradled her to his chest. Rami tightened his grip on my shoulder, and I saw him smile, as he saw his friends connect with his baby girl.

''Her middle name is Jones. Shani, Grace, Jones, Said Malek'' Rami said as Ben perked up, smiling like a maniac. I saw tears form in his eyes, and he slowly walked over to us. He handed her over to me, and carefully pulled me in a hug. He kissed my cheek, before hugging Rami as well.

Shani is now 1 week old, and Rami and I had an interview for our movie we shot months ago, before I got pregnant, but we decided to wait until the baby was born, to start interviews. Rami suggested to bring Shani with us, to finally show her to the world. Rami was strapping her in her little cute pink elephant carseat, which he got from his mother. I rubbed our dog Bailey goodbye, and headed to the car. When I approached the car, I saw Rami lightly stroking Shani's little head, and I smiled. He was so happy to be the father of this beautiful child, and so was I as a mother.

''Are you ready?'' I asked, resting a hand in his shoulder, he turned around, and put a finger to his lips. I giggled and smiled at Shani, as she twitched, before settling down, and continueing sleeping. She looked so cute in her Daddy's Princes outfit. Rami looked a me, and smiled, kissing my lips.

''I love you'' He whispered. I smiled and said it back, before we climbed in the car, and headed to the Graham Norton Show.

''It's wonderful to see you two, after almost 9 months'' Graham began as Rami, me, James Mcavoy sat on the bright red couch.

''Yeah, it's been too long, but we've had these past 9 months something really great happened in our lives'' I said as Rami squeezed my hand, knowing he felt the same.

''I saw that you just had a baby. I must say she's absoultely beautiful'' Graham noted as a picture of Shani, me and Rami was put onthe big screen, an half hour after she was born. The audiance awwed, and James congratulated me. I know him for years, and we've worked on a couple of movies together.

''Thank you so much'' Rami said with the same smile on his face when Shani was born.

''We actually took her with us, she's backstage'' I said as one of the producer's carried the pink carseat to us. I thanked her, and I took the car seat, setting it with the back to the audience. Rami carefully took her out of her carseat, and cuddled her close to his chest. The audience once again awwed, and I smiled as Shani opened her little beautiful blue eyes.

''She looks so much like Rami it's quite unbelievable'' Graham smiled as he cooed the baby. Shani smiled and I giggled as she tried to grab his hands.

''You can hold her if you like'' Rami suggested. He handed her to Graham, and he sat back down on his stool with Shani on his lap.

''How did you actually tell Rami you were pregnant, (Y/N)?'' Graham asked.

''Well I found out when I was almost 2 months pregnant, because I felt sick and I thought I was getting a fever, so I suggested to also buy a pregnancy test, which I thought it would be false alarm, so when I got home I took 3 tests and they came out positive. I was completely over the moon, and I couldn't wait to tell him until he came home earlier that everning so I decided to visit him on the set. I quickly bought a cute little box where the tests could fit in, so I hurried to the set, and saw he was shooting Live Aid. So the first thing when he was on a break, I decided to hand him the box and he panicked cause he thought he forgot our anniversary'' I giggled, and so did everyone else. He playfully nudged me, and we laughed. Graham first handed Shani to us, but I gave her to James as he happily took her. ''But I assured him it was not that so he opened the box and found the tests and he was shocked. I thought oh my god. He dropped the box and I saw tears appear in his eyes, and he shot up and pulled me in a tight hug. He kissed me and ran to the set, and I heard him scream that he was gonna be a dad'' I finished and the audience clapped. He kissed me cheek, and James handed Shani to me.

''That is something definitly would do'' Graham joked as I laughed.

Sorry for the crappy ending, but it came to mind

Requests are open!

#rami malek x reader #rami malek #bohemian rhapsody #mr robot

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taste-of-dean · 8 years ago

Text

Warm Welcome

Summary: Y/N deals with Jared being away and Jared tries to help

Pairing: Jared x Reader

Word Count: 947

Warnings: Daddy!Jared, Le Fluff

A/N: 1k Drabble Shenanigans! Prompt is bolded and requested by @sea040561 (who it wont let me tag). Thanks a bunch to my betas @impala-dreamer and @jpadjackles !!

MASTERLIST

Holding your sleeping daughter in your arms, you pulled up FaceTime and clicked your husband’s name. It was 8 am in Vancouver and you knew he would be on his way to the airport right now. The call barely had any time to ring before it started connecting to the video chat. You saw Jared’s face pop up and next to his was Jensen’s doing his weird cross-eyed thing.

A big smile grew on your face as you chuckled, seeing your family on the screen. “Hi babe, hi Jensen, and Cliff who I’m sure is driving the car,” you tried to say as loud as you could without waking your daughter.

Jensen shoved his face further into the picture, pushing Jared out of the way, “Show me that cute baby of yours, I can’t get enough of her.”

You turned the phone to Leighton’s face as Jared turned to Jensen saying, “You can’t get enough of her?! I think that’s suppose to be my line dude.”

“Well you may not be able to see her as much right now but at least you get to keep her. Danneel and I always have to give her back,” Jensen said with a pout.

“Well why don’t you and D start having your own babies?” you deadpanned.

Jensen grew quiet, growing a blush in his cheeks, trying to hide his smile, as Jared looked anywhere but the phone. “Jensen Ross! Is there something you need to tell me?!”

Jensen had a grin ear to ear, “I wasn't supposed to tell you! Danneel wanted to be the one to tell you, but yeah, we’re pregnant.”

Your heart swelled for your best friends, “I’m so happy for you guys!”

“If Danneel wasn’t up here right now she would have already told you,” Jensen said, rubbing the back of his neck, “OK after dropping that bomb I’m gonna give you two a minute alone since we’re a few minutes away from the airport.”

Jared quickly stuck his earbuds in so you two could have some sort of privacy. You took a deep breath in and smiled softly at your husband, “Hi.”

“Hi baby,” Jared said as his eyebrows scrunched together, “What’s wrong?”

You pursed your lips together, “Nothing, why would you think something’s wrong?

“You’re sad, don’t lie to me. You’re doing that pouty thing you do when you’re upset.”

“I just miss you and I wish you could come home.”

“I know baby, I’ll be home next weekend. There’s no con and I can spend as much time as I want with you and Leighton.”

“Yeah, it’s just hard to not be up there with you all the time.”

“I know, but I didn’t want you to have to keep traveling with Leighton and be alone when I go away to cons for the weekend. I’ll be home before you know it.”

The boys were pulling up to the airport so you quickly said your goodbyes to all of them and Jared promised to call you when they landed.

---

You were sitting on the sofa, waiting for Jared’s call before you put Leighton down for a nap. She was playing on her mat, rubbing her eyes and yawning. You wanted her to stay awake so Jared could see her this time, but it was getting late and you didn’t want her to be overtired, lord knows no one like an overtired baby. You carried her up to her room and rocked her and sang to her for a bit before you placed her in her crib and headed back down stairs.

You plopped yourself back on the sofa, still waiting for Jared’s call that should have come by now. You turned the tv on to help keep yourself awake; getting up at 5am with a hungry baby called for taking a nap, but not until you talked to Jared. To no avail you fell asleep, waiting for a call that never came.

You woke up to a dip in the sofa, assuming your dog and jumped up to take a nap with you. But then you felt large hands brushing the hair out of your face and a pair of soft lips on your forehead. You turned to see your husband and a bouquet of flowers in his other hand.

You were at a loss for words, you just wrapped your hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

When the kiss broke, Jared cleared his throat, “Wow if you're going to kiss me like that everytime I surprise you, I have to do this more often.”

You giggled, “I won’t say no to that! What are you doing home?”

“I just thought I’d stop by to see my two favorite girls.”

“Well one of your girls is due to wake up soon, we can get her up early if you want?”

“Nah, let her sleep. I want to spend some quality time with my wife,” Jared said as he leaned down to kiss you, pulling at the hem of your shirt.

It seems as though all kids have the perfect timing. Leightons cries started sounding through the monitor. Jared and you broke the kiss laughing, “You get the kid, I’ll go find some water for these bad boys,” you said, grabbing the flowers

“Ok,” you said as you turned toward the kitchen, when Jared grabbed your arm and twirled you into his chest, whispering in your ear, “We’ll finish this later.”

Those four words sent chills down your spine and all over your body as Jared bounced up the stairs with the world’s biggest smirk on his face, knowing exactly what he just did to you.

Forever Tags: @impala-dreamer @babypieandwhiskey @idreamofhazel @megansescape @pearlparty @atc74 @frenchybell @lucy-xoxoo @sing-me-hey-jude @kikiamr @frickin-bats @teepartyy @rosep16 @darkperfectionuniverse @wiinchesters-blog @youre-alive-and-thats-your-job @toxicobscenity @itsallintheeyeofthebeholder @tom-is-in-my-tardis @gemini75eeyore @youtubehelpsmesurvive @clemsonstatemom @assbutt-fan @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @jayankles @padackles2010 @highonpastries @jensen-gal @alcpegasus22 @thehunterismine @petrovadixon @ourfaterestswithyou @joanne-thefangirl @likesiriusly @ourfaterestswithyou @jpadjackles @amanda-teaches @aubreyreadsstuff @captainemwinchester

Pond/Mrs Who Tag List (there are probably doubles so my bad): @manawhaat @samsgoddess @plaidstiel-wormstache @teamfreewill-imagine @writingbeautifulmen @supernatural-jackles @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @hexparker @drarina1737 @ruined-by-destiel @chelsea-winchester @deals-with-demons @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @waywardjoy @for-the-love-of-dean @for-the-love-of-dean @deandoesthingstome @curliesallovertheplace @captain-princess-rose @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @notnaturalanahi @theficlibrarium @ellen-reincarnated1967 @gryffindorable713 @growleytria @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @fandommaniacx @meganwinchester1999 @samanddeanwinchester67 @myfand0msandm0re @fangirling-instead-of-working @for-the-love-of-dean @sleep-silent-angel @curliesallovertheplace @skybinx-blog @feelmyroarrrr @beachy2014 @fandom-book-nerd @katnharper @sams-little-toy @castiels-forbidden-angel @sunriserose1023 @jotink78 @lucifer-in-leather @i-dont-know-how-to-write @everyday-supernatural-af @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @supernatural-jackles @chelsea-winchester @spn-fan-girl-173 @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish

#Jared x Reader #Daddy!Jared #le fluff #Jared drabble

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ghostlywritten · 8 years ago

Text

No Point I.

“Jagiya!” Taehyung yelled as soon as the door to your practice room opened up, loud enough to be heard over the beat coming out of the stereo. You glanced over at him through the mirror whilst he waved enthusiastically, but proceeded to finish the choreo. He pouted as you ignored him until the song ended and held his arms up for you when you were done.

“I expect a hug that will heal the wound in my heart for ignoring me,” he whined and you sighed with a small smile, hugging him to get the puppy look off his face. And because it felt too good to resist him. He snuggled you into him, swaying you from side to side like a child would with a stuff toy and you could only imagine the big toothless smile on his face.

“What has my jagi been doing all day? I didn’t get to see you at all,” he complained, tightening his grip when you tried to let go. “Practicing, Tae. You know our comeback is coming up soon,” I said into his white shirt, inhaling his smell that always seemed to lift my mood for some reason.

“I do, but I should still be able to see you everyday, shouldn’t I?” he continued, childishly and I chuckled at his behaviour. Looking up at him you noticed the notoriously playful glint in his eyes, but also a small amount of frustration. Well, don’t blame me, blame the work. “Yeah, you should, but I guess we can’t help it,” You said, shrugging. Taehyung bit his lip before he smiled brightly again, trying to hide his disappointment. You furrowed your eyebrows. Did I say something wrong?

“Well, are you free tonight? We could go and eat ice cream or stroll around the Han River, it’s your favorite place, right? Or OH! We could cuddle.” You laughed at his excitement, he was just too cute. “I will take the cuddle, I will be too tired to do anything else,” you chose, sighing as you rested your head against his chest. Even though you loved dancing and that you got the opportunity to do it professionally you more and more had the feeling that your passion turned into some kind of duty, a very tiring duty.

Taehyung hummed in sympathy, rubbing your back. “Cuddling it is.” You sighed in contentment that night as you cuddled in the sofa after he requested your version of hot chocolate, glaring at his other members when they asked for one as well and stating that those hot chocolates were to only be made for him. Zipping through the TV shows he stopped at some movie to keep his and your members quiet and hold your attention, making sure the movie was lame enough for you to not get entranced by it like you usually would with movies, even going as far as to completely forgetting his presence from time to time. That’s how much you loved them sometimes.

“(Y/N),” he whispered and you looked up at him, surprised that he called you by your name and not ‘jagi’, ‘turd’ or 'yeobo’. “Yes?”

“I love you,” he smiled softly and you felt the words seep into you, lifting every weight and worry off your body.

You smiled back wholeheartedly, “I love you too, Taehyung.” He pressed his lips against yours for a moment, molding them together and you enjoyed every second of it. Who knew it would be one of the three last kisses you would share.

Yunah. A pretty name for a pretty person with short brown wavy hair, a cute face with delicate features and a rather comfortable fashion style. Together with her kind and funny personality the perfect combination. That’s how you could describe the new trainee girl the best. “Annyeonhaseyeo, I’m Yunah and I’m a new trainee. Please take care of me,” she introduced herself to you and your group. You observed her indifferently, not really caring who she was but rather why she would interrupt your dance practice so close before your comeback stage. Your latest single mv was released already, so it was about time you went to perform it. You smiled as you thought of Taehyung’s proud smile as he watched the video for the first time, yelling 'That’s my girl right there!’. Shaking your head you zoned back into the conversation your other members held with the new trainee girl, not yet realising the significant amount of impact she was going to have in your life.

“….and she is from Daegu. And she likes japchae, too!” Taehyung rambled as he sat, leaning against the mirror wall whilst you practiced the moves you were not confident with yet. “We should ask her to go eat japchae with us one day. So she can get comfortable. I remember how uncomfortable I was when I came here with my accent and all.”

“Yeah I remember, too,” you remarked and his eyes snapped to you with a playful glare. He suddenly stood up, walking up to you. “Come on jagiya, you’ve trained enough for today.”

“But I’m not good with the moves, yet,” You objected, twirling out of his reach. He chuckled, his eyesmile causing you to stop and let him get to you, “You are more than ready for the comeback stage, don’t worry,” he reassured, cupping your cheeks, his thumb grazing your skin lovingly. You nearly melted into puddle, but shook yourself out of it.

“One last round and then I’m done,” you offered and he groaned, “But I’m tired, jagi~,” he whined, throwing a little tantrum that you couldn’t help but giggle. “I won’t take long, I promise.” ….

“Won’t take long, my ass,” Taehyung grumbled after one hour when you finally decided to call it a day.

“Aww come on, jagi,” you chimed, in a way better mood than before now that you had managed the moves skillfully, “It was only an hour.”

“An hour that you could have spent cuddling with your precious boyfriend,” Taehyung complained as he looked down on his phone that blinked up. You casually looked down as the name 'Yunah’ flashed on his screen.

“Well, we can spent time together now,” you reasoned and hugged him from behind. He placed his free hand on yours, hesitating. “I have to go now, though.”

“Hm?” You perked up, stopping yourself from snuggling more into his back.

“I have to go, yeobo,” Taehyung repeated and freed himself gently from your arms.

“But why?” you asked, pouting slightly without realising it and he stared at your lips for a second.

“Ehh, manager-hyung messaged us to meet up now. Some urgent matter.” I briefly thought back to the name that flashed on his screen a few minutes ago. 'Since when is manager-hyung called Yunah.’ You wondered dryly, but shook it off as you smiled at him, sadly.

“Alright, I will see you later then?” He nodded cheerfully, pecking your lips quickly before rushing out. The second last kiss and it was way too short. That night you would wait for him, but end up falling asleep on the couch in vain, not a single response from the endless calls you made.

The next day you woke up with one message from him, apologizing and stating that he had to stay back with the others to do some music. You replied with a simple 'okay’, not being able to think of anymore as you had to get ready for the comeback stage. You would have to travel throughout the country and perform on different stages, not to mention the fanmeetings. 'Damn I should have spent time with him instead of practicing,’ you thought mournfully but soon left it behind you. Quite different from Taehyung.

Unfortunately he knew from past experiences that a simple 'okay’ from you meant that absolutely nothing was 'okay’. And even though you really meant the 'okay’ this time he didn’t know. And so - whilst you were too busy to check on your phone for the week - he bombarded you with messages filled with endless apologies like he usually would even if he wasn’t always entirely sure why he had to after you 'okay-ed’ him. And after the week of you unintentionally ignoring him he quite frankly got sick of it.

“She never talks to me,” Taehyung said through a mouthful of japchae. He could never get enough of it. “And I always have to apologize. And I sometimes don’t even know why!”

“I’m sure she has her reasons.”

“Yeah, well it would be nice if she could share her reasons with me then,” Taehyung huffed. “I mean, communication is the key to a good relationship, right?”

“Wow,” Yunah chuckled, who was sat in front of him in the restaurant. “You seem to know more about relationships than her,” she mused jokingly, causing him to laugh as well.

“I mean, everytime we fight it’s me who has to give in because she is so damn stubborn! Is it really possible that it’s always my fault?”

“No of course not,” Yunah tried to reassure him and placed her hand on his. Taehyung halted in his movements and glanced down at her hand. When was the last time you took his hand. Wasn’t it always him taking your hand? The young boy growled in frustration, startling Yunah.

She slowly retracted her hand from his, “S-Sorry, I thought-”

“No! No, it’s fine,” Taehyung exclaimed, grasping her hand instinctively. “Don’t be sorry. I was just thinking about (Y/N).”

“And that causes you to growl like you want to kill someone?” Yunah laughed and Taehyung smiled at her, suddenly noticing how melodious her laughter sounded. Maybe because she never held back her laughter or hid her face in her hands like you would. You would always say you looked ugly when you laughed even though he begged to differ.

“No, it’s just that…I feel like I’m the only one who puts effort in this relationship.” Yunah felt her heart go out to him. She, herself, had been in a relationship like that where the boy didn’t appreciate her like he should, causing her to break it off while breaking her heart at the same time.

“I know how you feel,” she said, squeezing his hand and he smiled in relief.

“Thank you!” They sat there, staring at each other and again - out of nowhere - Taehyung noticed something he hadn’t before. Her eyes. Her beautiful, twinkling eyes that reminded him of yours a little.

A phone rang and they broke out of their reverie. “Oh sorry. That’s mine,” Taehyung said, fumbling for his phone. Yunah cleared her throat, feeling a blush creep up her cheek. What was she thinking? He had a girlfriend.

“It’s the hyungs,” he declared and she turned her attention back to him. “They found a new place to 'party hard’,” he quoted and they both chuckled, “I should probably go and watch over them.”

“Oh? You watch over them?” Yunah asked, amused.

“Yes, I do,” he agreed.

“So you are the moralizer of the party?”

“Nah, but I’m the only one with the clear mind at the end,” he said, tapping her forehead. Yunah furrowed her eyebrows before understanding, “You don’t drink?”

“Not anymore, nope.”

She nodded her head, but asked why to keep the conversation going as they waited for the bill. Taehyung shrugged, “(Y/N) doesn’t like drinking. She wouldn’t want a drunk guy as a boyfriend.”

Yunah kept quiet for a while, reminiscing the memories of her last relationship, how she twisted and bended herself out of shape to fit his standards. For the second time on that night she took his hand in hers, “Tae, (Y/N) is not here tonight. So just for tonight, be yourself and 'party hard’.”

Taehyung looked at her, pondering before he slapped his free hand on the table. “You know what? You are right. Tonight I’m gonna be free and myself.”

“There you go!” she exclaimed cheerfully and he grinned, gleefully. He didn’t know when the last time was that he could breathe so easily. Every weight on his shoulders - practice, perform, act cheerful when he wasn’t, you - seemed lifted off his shoulders. The young idol looked down at their joined hands before he looked back at her.

“Do you want to come, too?”

She looked into his eyes in surprise. “Eh, I don’t know, Tae.”

“Come on, Yunah. It’s gonna be fun. Plus, you already know the others and they like you,” he listed off the reasons why she should go and she couldn’t help but think how adorable he was. 'He deserves better than (Y/N).’

“Alright, I guess I can come for an hour,” she agreed.

“Great! Let’s go!” And off they went, not knowing what would happen that night. ————————— Scandal: V from BTS spotted with a trainee at a party

Namjoon aka Rapmonster stared at the tabloid in shock. “Taehyung!” he yelled out, enraged. Stalking up to his room he pushed the door open with a bang, causing the occupants to flinch in their beds and groan with pounded heads. The leader went up to the sleepy boy and shoved the tabloid in his face. “When did this happen?”

“What is it?” Taehyung mumbled, picking himself up lazily.

“What that is? It’s an article writing about how you were spotted making out with a girl, Taehyung!”

“Bwoh?!” the boy bolted up upon hearing the news and scanned the tabloid thoroughly. He felt the blood drain from his face when he saw a picture, but sighed in relief. “Hyung, you can’t see anything in that picture. There is no proof, so we can just deny it.”

“Deny it? So it is true? You made out with a girl. A girl that is not (Y/N), your girlfriend?” Namjoon remarked, disbelievingly. How could he stay so calm about this. Taehyung scratched his head, closing his eyes at the pounding hangover and sighed, “Of course not, hyung. I don’t remember anything, but you know I would never do that.”

“Good, because she is not going to like this. And neither will manager-hyung.”

“Calm down, hyung. He won’t be mad.” …..

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND, TAEHYUNG?!” the manager yelled in their meeting room.

Taehyung cowered in his seat. “Or maybe he will,” he muttered to Namjoon, who vigorously nodded his head next to him.

“How could this happen? When did this happen? And when did I allow you guys to go out anyway?!”

“Hyung,” Jungkook spoke up, weakly, “We were free that night and you said we could do whatever we wanted.”

“Do whatever you wanted, yes, but not something that would cause a freaking scandal! Do you even know what we will have to go through from now on?!” the manager continued to yell at the seven boys, who seemed to get smaller and smaller with each word. “Bang Si-Hyuk will not be happy about this. Especially because it’s true!”

Taehyung snapped his head up, astonished. “Hyung, that rumour is false. That never happened!”

“Oh, it didn’t, you say?” the manager almost laughed at the innocent puppy look on their faces. “Were you not at that party? Did you not get drunk? Did Yunah not confess and apologize to me countless times about what happened?!”

“What?” Taehyung said, confused, “What did she say?”

“She came up to me this morning, apologizing about getting drunk with you guys and kissing you in public. Taehyung, I do not care about your personal relationships, but I thought I made it clear that you were to hide it from the publici…” Taehyung didn’t hear the rest of it, he couldn’t. All that he thought about was the fact that he kissed a girl other than you. He…cheated on you.

Feeling the panic built up inside him slowly, he clenched his fists, trying to keep his calm. What if you found out? What if you read that article? What if you had already read it?! Flinching and startling his members in the process he began to frantically search for his phone.

No messages. His heart started to pump like he just ran a marathon as he pressed the number he knew inside out, holding it up to his ear.

“Yah, Taehyung! Are you even listening?” Manager-hyung grumbled, put off by the unusual rude behaviour of the young boy.

“(Y/N)…,” he whispered as the call went to voicemail, his eyes so wide and looking at him with a desperation it started to worry the older man, “She is not picking up.”

“Maybe she is busy right now,” Jin reasoned, trying to comfort his dongsaeng.

Taehyung suddenly jerked up. “I need to see her!” And with that exclamation he went to run out of the room, however he was held back by his members.

“Where do you think you are going?”

“She is on her comeback stage tour.”

“You can’t see her now.” Taehyung closed his eyes tightly, banging his fist against the wall in frustration. What if you knew and broke up with him? He couldn’t let that happen. The others gathered around him, trying to help out but he was inconsolable. 'I will never ever drink again…’ ———————————— “Ughh, I will never wear these shoes again,” you huffed as you were finally set in the car that would take you back to Seoul, now that you had wrapped up your last comeback stage. Taking off the heels you gave your feet a generous and very much needed massage. Whoever came up with the concept of wearing heels whilst dancing such complex choreos was crazy.

“Eww, (Y/N)-ah, put your shoes back on, your feet stink,” one of your Royalty members playfully complained and you lightly threw one heel at her. She yelped in exaggerated pain, falling on top of the member next to her.

You sat back in your seat as the car started and headed back home, staring out of the tinted window. Thinking of what would await you there you smiled at the thought of Taehyung and decided to check up on him after days of neglecting him. Pulling out your phone you found it dead as it had no battery left. You looked at your seat neighbour, who clung to her phone like her life depended on it.

“Unnie, can I borrow your phone for a seco-?”

“No! I haven’t seen my baby for a week! I’m not giving this away.”

“What? Baby? Unnie~ I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t. I’m talking about my phone.” You sighed/chuckled at her response. She truly loved technology. Aish, you would have to wait until you got back to hear from him.

After five hours of a seemingly endless drive you finally arrived back in your dorms, only to be surprised by the whole BTS gang in your living room.

“WELCOME BACK!” they yelled from the top of their lungs, causing your leader to shut the door close in shock without getting in. You girls stood there for a minute, staring at the door before you burst out laughing, opening it again.

“You pabos scared us so bad!” one of your members exclaimed as soon as you opened the door the second time only to see them rolling on the floor with tears of laughter in their eyes. You chuckled at this until some kind of whirlwind rushed through the girls and crashed into you, knocking the breath out of you. You immediately recognized the scent surrounding you and laughed as you hugged him back. “Hey Tae,” you whispered.

“Hey (Y/N),” he whispered back, tightening his grip as you tried to back away to see him. You giggled at his sudden need for closure. “Missed me that much?”

He nuzzled your neck affectionally. “You have no idea.”

“Aww, you lovebirds,” the Royalty members cooed, before they simultaneously went, “Eww, I’m gonna barf.”

You laughed at their reaction, yet again failing to get out of Taehyung’s arms. “Jagiya,” you laughed and he finally loosened his grip around you.

The rest of the night he wouldn’t move from your side, when you went into your room to put your bags inside, when you went into the kitchen for a glass of water, he had even tried to follow you into the bathroom until you shut the door on his face, laughing.

“Seriously Tae,” I started as he snuggled closer to you on the couch while you tried focusing on the movie. You leaned into him when he squeezed you tightly, “You’ve been so touchy all day. What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” he snapped, startled, “Nothing is going on. Why, is something supposed to be going on?”

“No…I was just wondering if something happened,” you remarked, confused by his behaviour.

“Yeah, hehehe no nothing happened,” he repeated, fumbling around uncomfortably. You stared at him for a while, watching his eyes shift around but never look at you. Placing a kiss on his cheek you hoped to ease his uneasiness. Whatever it was, he would surely tell you at some point.

Well, he didn’t but at least his weird behaviour stopped after a while. Instead of being awfully clingy he got awfully distant. And even though you were glad about the space because you had to keep up with members during your comeback time you were also quite disappointed to not see him waiting for you or watching your dance practices like he normally would.

Like today. Today was a Thursday and he would have practice at the same time as you so you expected him to come over during a break. But you waited in vain, even during your break he didn’t come. Puffing out a breath in frustration you laid down in a starfish position, staring at the ceiling. What was going on? Lately he didn’t seem to have any time for you. Sure, he was preparing for his comeback but that wasn’t due to three months so he wasn’t that busy, yet.

You looked over at your members, who looked just as exhausted as you felt. “Big break?” you suggested and they nodded, mumbling in agreement. Though you had also other intentions in mind

“Hey the Bangtan Boys haven’t come over for sometime now,” you tried to bring up casually. They pondered for a second before coming to the same conclusion.

“Why don’t we go and watch them for a change then?” our leader spoke and you immediately jumped up.

“That’s a great idea!” you exclaimed, enthusiastically. Noticing how the others looked at you in amusement, you coughed awkwardly. “I mean, sure. Let’s go,” you said, acting nonchalantly.

“Oh don’t give me that,” your eldest laughed, pushing you as you all made your way to the door, “We know you can’t wait to see your Taehyungie.” You felt your heart flutter at him being called yours and smiled unconsciously.

Peeking into the window at their door you saw them doing the ending pose of their song and you girls quickly opened the door, clapping obnoxiously for them with cheers like “That was great” and “Fighting!” and “Wooooo”. They laughed loudly, the tension that previously dominated their expressions fading when they started to relax.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin asked. You silently admired how friendly he seemed saying that whilst it always came off as cold when you said it. Shaking your head slightly at the distraction you walked up to Taehyung with a small smile, “Hey.”

“Hey,” he greeted back, hugging you half-heartedly and you wondered where his bear hugs went off to. It was silent for a moment as he was usually the one to open up a conversation you would continue for hours but this time it seemed like he was intent on avoiding your eyes for some reason.

“We were just going to have break, too,” Hoseok mentioned and that was the cue for everyone to sit down in a circle and chat around mindlessly. You kept glancing at your boyfriend, who was oddly quiet for his 4D alien nature.

“Is everything alright?” you asked, placing a hand on his. He mumbled a distracted 'yes’ and slowly pulled away, leaving your hand hanging. Retracting it you tried not to feel hurt about it.

Suddenly the door opened and in came Yunah with a bag of take out’s, “Hey guys- Oh,” she halted in her movements as she noticed us, her eyes widening when they landed on you. You gave her a quizzical look and she quickly looked behind you before composing herself. You glanced back to see Taehyung with a slightly panicked expression and his hands tightened into fist that you could see his knuckles straining against his skin. 'What on earth is going on?’

Turning back to the newcomer you saw her bow politely to everyone. “Annyeong sunbae-nims. I’m Yunah, a trainee here.” Your members smiled warmly at her and you gave her a nod of acknowledgement like you usually would, though with narrowed eyes. “I bought chinese take outs,” she said to the guys, holding the plastic bag up and they cheered, Hoseok and Jimin scrambling to help her with it.

Spreading the goods around, you noticed how Taehyung’s lightened up as she gave him his food, smiling his rectangular grin and your heart tightened. She turned to us with an apologetic look, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you would be here,” she said, looking down guiltily at the now empty plastic bag.

“It’s fine,” one of your members reassured with a smile, “Our break is over now, so we have to go anyway.”

With that you girls stood up and said your goodbyes, you deliberately ignoring Taehyung’s outstretched hand as he expected a hug. Well, he expected in vain, causing him to frown at your back in confusion, his rejected hand still hanging mid-air. 'Why are you being like that?’ he wondered, before sighing to himself. It wasn’t like he had any right to reprimand her for this cold behaviour, which he was actually used to from previous fights. His heart stopped in realisation. She couldn’t have known, could she?

A hand on his shook him off of his thoughts and he looked up to see Yunah sitting down and smiling at him with worry, “Taehyung oppa,” she said and he felt warm at the 'oppa’. You would never call him that, before you got together it was always a formal 'sunbae’. Yet again he sighed at the negative thoughts he had about you. 'Am I really supposed to think about you - my girlfriend - like that?’ This relationship gradually didn’t make sense to him anymore. Maybe that was why he got so distant with you. Maybe that was why he didn’t push Yunah’s hand away like he did with yours earlier. And maybe…that was why things turned out like they turned out.

“Taehyung oppa,” a voice called out to him as soon as he stepped out of the room with his members and the manager staring at him, judging him, silently scolding him for his drunken mistake. Taehyung closed his eyes tightly before he turned to the person he wanted to see the least. No, it was actually he didn’t want to see, fearing you would see what he had done in his eyes, the guilt eating him away.

“Yunah,” he nodded at her, before pushing past her, slightly resenting her for snitching to the manager what he had done.

“Please oppa, wait!” she called out to him and he didn’t have the heart to ignore. After all she had to bear the consequences, too. He stopped and waited for her to catch up.

“I’m really sorry for what happened last night,” she breathed out quickly.

“Yunah I-.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a slight headache building. “What even happened?”

“Wha- you don’t remember?” she asked, surprised and he thought he even saw hurt flash across her face.

“No. I’m not a really good drinker. I never remember.”

“Well,” she shuffled nervously and he watched her intensely when she blushed, “we went to the party your hyungs had told you about and I had told you to let loose for tonight because you were so stressed about (Y/N) not answering you. And so we got really, really drunk and…we danced…and started k-kissing at some point,” she stuttered, turning as red as a tomato. If it hadn’t been such a serious matter he would have laughed at how shy she was being.

“That’s it? Nothing else happened?” he probed and she quickly nodded her head, watching him sigh in relief. “Don’t worry, Yunah. It’s going to be fine. We will just declare this rumour as false. It won’t affect your or my career,” he said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She bit her lip, heart beat picking up at his touch.

“I’m really sorry for what happened last night,” she repeated and he nodded his head with a slight smile though it slipped at her next words, “but I don’t regret it.”

“What?” he asked, shocked and she blushed again yet refusing to back down as she looked up in determination.

“I don’t regret it, Taehyung oppa. I know I’m the worst person for kissing you when you have a girlfriend, but I can’t deny my feelings. I like you and I won’t ever regret liking you.”

He stood there shocked as she slowly moved away from him. “I know there is no way we will be together since you have your (Y/N). I just wanted to get this off my chest,” she said, feeling relief coursing through her at finally confessing even if the inevitable heartbreak would follow. She was proud of herself for confessing and standing up to her feelings after her emotional break up with her last boyfriend.

Days passed with sleepless nights for Taehyung as he waited for you to come back and yet hoping you wouldn’t because he had no idea how to face you. What if you knew already and didn’t want to see him ever again? He growled in frustration, tossing around in bed until he got hit by a pillow from his roommates, telling him to keep it down.

The day you came he couldn’t have been more relieved that you had no idea about anything. Wanting to make sure you wouldn’t find out in anyway he stuck by you throughout that day and the days after until he was sure the scandal had died down and the tabloids wouldn’t mention it anymore. Afterwards he distanced himself from you, the guilt that had been hidden by the panic of losing you coming to the surface and he couldn’t let you see it.

“Just tell her already,” Jin advised him, “She will be glad that you told her.”

“No, she will leave me, hyung,” he said, the dark bags evident under his eyes, “She will leave me for good.”

The eldest sighed, concerned about his dongsaeng’s health and relationship with you. “I’m afraid she will find out at some point. Such things never stay hidden for too long. It’s not like you guys are happy either right now. You keeping a secret from her is putting a wall between you two. It’s not healthy.”

“Better a sick relationship than no relationship with (Y/N),” Taehyung responded, stubbornly. Feeling the urge of escape he walked off the dorm, musing how depressing it was that he couldn’t even forget and be himself in his own dorm with his brothers anymore.

Deciding to catch some fresh air he walked to the Han River close by, letting the breeze freshen him up. He felt slightly better as if the wind picked up all the worries that weighed down on his shoulders, lifting them up and carrying them away for at least a small amount of time. Letting his eyes wander he spotted a small figure a few metres away. Squinting his eyes he recognized her to be none other than Yunah.

Watching her silently, he felt his breath come to a slight stop at the way her short wavy brown hair swirled around in the wind. How was it that he always felt good seeing and thinking about her but the feelings he had around you lately were such a burden. Why did he feel like you grew more and more apart and he got closer to her instead? When did his feelings for you transferred over to her? He saw her look up at the feeling of someone watching her, her eyes widening. They lightened up when he slowly walked over to her, stopping a metre away.

“Hey Taehyung oppa,” she greeted him sweetly and he closed his eyes at the battle that occured in him.

“That confession…,” he began slowly, feeling one side of him gain the upper hand, “is it still- do you still like me?”

She looked at him in surprise before nodding slightly. He nodded as well, his eyes flickering down to her lips momentarily. “Why do you ask all of a sudden?” she breathed, noticing him come closer.

“I don’t know,” he said so quielty she almost thought she imagined it.

“What are you doing?” she whispered as he leaned down, their foreheads touching. She held onto his bicep for support when her knees nearly gave up on her.

“I don’t know.”

“What about (Y/N)?”

“I don’t know.” And with that he crashed his lips down on her, silencing all the other unanswered questions she had for him.

That was how their little affair had started. It wasn’t much that they did, but it was more than he did with you for weeks. Meeting up secretly he made the effort to take her to as many different places as he could, feeling on cloud nine whenever she squealed in delight or kissed him, demanding.

“Who is she?” you asked the day he asked to break up with you, void of any emotion.

“What?” he flinched at her tone.

“Who is she, Taehyung?”

“I- Yunah,” he said, defeated. There was no point in lying anymore. You narrowed your eyes a little with your back turned to him. Wasn’t that the trainee girl with the chinese food a few weeks ago?

“And why?” you asked the question he had dreaded. “Why do you want to be with her so much that you forgot about me?” your voice broke and you heard his breath hitch.

“(Y/N)…”

“Why do you love her and not me?”

“(Y/N)-.” You whirled around.

“What happened to us?” he looked at her, sadly.

“There wasn’t much left of 'us’ anymore, (Y/N),” he said and your heart broke.

“We grew apart slowly without realising it.”

“That wasn’t growing apart. That was you distancing yourself from me. Because you fell in love with another,” you saying it out loud made it even more real an tears gradually filled your eyes though you refused to let them out.

“Maybe…”

“When?”

“When what?”

“When did you start falling for her?”

“(Y/N)-”

“When?!” you raised your voice, giving him a stare that struck him to the core. It was obvious that he started falling for her during your relationship - which really stung - and you just wanted to know at what point you two went wrong.

“I-It just happened, (Y/N), I can’t really tell you. I guess when I kissed her-,” he immediately clamped his mouth shut, biting on his lip with a grimace at his mistake as your eyes widened.

“You kissed her?” you choked out and he looked down to the side, away from your pained expression, “You kissed her while you were with me? My boyfriend?”

“Please (Y/N)-”

“That’s cheating, Taehyung!” you cried out and he flinched yet again at the harsh word.

“N-No, it wasn’t. I was drunk during the first kiss.”

“You kissed her more than once!” you yelled and felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore and he closed his eyes, cursing himself, “Taehyung, how could you?” you whispered, all the energy drained from you and your shoulders slumped in defeat, “I-I need to go.”

“(Y/N), please. Let’s not end it like this,” he tried, but you immediately cut off all his hopes of settling this peacefully, “There is no other way to end this.”

He silently followed you to the door, his heart heavy seeing your back slumped like this. You normally walked with your head high, always making sure to not let people see your emotions as it was part of how you grew up. Emotions were a weakness, you would say. Knowing this it ate him alive all the more as you shuffled and stumbled, your hand shaking as you desperately fumbled with the door for a few seconds before finally managing to open it and flee from him.

He had no idea how long he stood there, staring at the spot you were last seen, “…Good bye.”

II.

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