#you can actually see the burgundy in hes' hair here

[pawnguild]

😠🗡️

[becomingmina]

thanks for the clarification ♡

so here is the thought I had

hyunjin and reader being each other's crush but absolutely idiotic about it so they don't know the other's feelings

they have common friends that are sick of the tension between the two. one decides to tell hyunjin, the other suggests the reader to do something to make hyunjin jealous so she can find out if he likes her. (boring I know)

one time when everyone's around, she flirts with jisung or something idk and she gets too touchy so hyunjin is annoyed af. pulls her away to somewhere private and voila, they've confessed in the best way possible 😌🌸

CRUSH. anon request w/ HYUNJIN.

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: hyunjin x female reader genre + warnings: friends to lovers, smut mdni!, oral (both f & m receiving), hyunjin calls reader kitten, semi-public wc: 5.4k mina's note: Anon also wanted to throw ‘kitten’ in it (my fav pet name 👀) Also I really enjoyed writing this & love how much details you put on the request!! My box is open for feedback 💓

other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

You don’t know how you got in this situation but here you are; staring at your friend who is currently playing basketball, topless. Well, you’re more like drooling over him.

He just looked so good, so hot. His tall, lean, milky body just running around on the court covered in a thin layer of sweat. Normally you hate the thought of sweat, but it works for him. It works well for Hwang Hyunjin, actually. He even looks like he smells nice too. You watch as he laughs at the other players, hogging the ball like the main character in some high school drama. Your eyes waver from his pretty smile to his muscular arms to his piercing, which is sitting so perfectly under his eyebrow, then to his burgundy hair.

You pay attention the beads of sweat that trickles from his hair to his chest, dripping down his body. You gulped when you see them land on the area just underneath his belly button. You completely loss your sanity as your eyes covered that area. His treasure trail? Happy trail? Whatever people called it. Why was it so sexy on Hyunjin?

You quickly look away before anyone catches you; you shouldn’t be looking at him like that. Hyunjin is your friend.

When you meet him two years ago in your first year of college, he was just some guy in class you become friends with. He is good looking, but you didn’t find him attractive. There was no chemistry, no tension, no feelings. You don’t know how it started but you find yourself thinking about him every other hour of the day now. You would freeze when someone else mentions his name, blush when he was in close proximity of you and even stutter when he speaks to you.

“Hey.. Hey Y/N,” a voice snapping you out of your thoughts, followed by a nudge on your shoulder.

“Hm?” You answered, unaware of who was even calling out to you. You turn your head and there he was, your crush Hwang Hyunjin crouching down next to you, smiling at your blank reaction. You’re used to him towering over you since he was way taller than you but to have him crouched down like this looking at you makes you feel a bit.. timid.

“I’m going to borrow this,” he says dangling your fresh hand towel in-front of you. Oh yeah, the hand towel you carry around in your bag just in case your physical education professor makes you participate in class. The one you won’t let anyone use or even touch.

When they say having a crush makes you do crazy stuff, they do mean it. You were quick to lean him it.

“Huh.. uhh yeah, sure,” you answered, eyes travelling from your towel to his face again.

When you realised you’ve been staring at him longer than you should have, you cough and drop eye contact, making Hyunjin gulped a little bit too loud. “I don’t need it anyways you can keep—”

“—I’ll return it,” he says with a smile. “I’ll wash it first of-course.” You nod your head quietly as you gather up your belongings, getting ready to go to your next class.

“Come on Hyunjin, we are going to be late for class!” Chan, the oldest out of the friend group, calls out to him.

“So.. I’ll see you at lunch then?” Hyunjin says after noticing your quietness.

“Yeah, I’ll see you at lunch,” you mumbled, shooting him a quick glance.

“Bye bro,” Hyunjin says to Minho, giving him a handshake before collecting his bag and going off with Chan.

Minho chuckles at the scene that just unfolded in-front of him; two of his best friends obviously crushing on one another but no one is making a move. Well, it’s not really you and Hyunjin’s fault since you guys don’t know about the other person’s feelings.

“You know he likes you right?” Minho blurted out and you turn your head to his direction.

“Who?” You answered nervously. Did Minho just witness everything?

“Hyunjin,” Minho replies with raised eyebrows, his smug a little bit too cocky for your liking today. You rolled your eyes at him but underneath your skin, you are hot, flustered, embarrassed.

“No way!” you denied. Hyunjin could never like you, he only saw you as a friend.

“He does—”

You scoffed a little bit too fast.

“Do you not see the way he looks at you Y/N?” You can’t tell if Minho was being serious or not.

Minho does have a history of being a joker which makes you think he’s just pranking you. But he also is a very honest friend, he would never joke around with stuff that could potentially hurt you.

“Uhhhh—” you hesitantly reply.

Minho takes in a loud breath, “—I don’t know if you’re genuinely dense or you just don’t want to admit it.”

“He doesn’t like me,” you answered.

“He does,” Minho turns his head behind to look at Hyunjin and you followed. You watch as the two made their way across the field, Chan wrapping his arms around Hyunjin’s shoulder trying to snatch your towel away from him.

“Oh, you don’t want to give it to me because that’s your girl’s towel?” Chan laughs, basically choking Hyunjin at this point.

“She’s.. she’s not.. my girl..” Hyunjin softly replies in a cough, not sure if he was actually being choked by Chan’s big arms or by choking up at you being called his girl.

“She’s not your girl.. yet?” The older boy teased.

“What do you mean?” Hyunjin questioned, hoping Chan didn’t see through him.

Chan looked back at you and Minho who was still sitting by the basketball court. You swiftly turn back to Minho, hoping Chan didn’t catch you starring at Hyunjin.

“Trust me,” Minho said with his smug face, raising his brow to the older boy across the field. “You know how to tell if he likes you?”

You stay quiet. You were curious but didn’t want to seem like it, so you just raised your eyebrow. Tell me, tell me Lee Minho!

“Make him jealous,” Minho says lifting his chin to Jisung who was currently surrounded by a group of girls shoving their gym towel into his face.

You know what Minho was referring to; that’s how Felix ended up with Nayeon. Minho suggested to Nayeon to make Felix jealous by sitting next to Jisung at some dinner since he was such a girl magnet. Next thing you know she was pulled away from the table by Felix and they have been together ever since.

You scoffed. It sure worked for them, but you weren’t going to use Jisung like that; he was your friend.

“I’m not going to use Han-Ji like that,” you replied.

“Okay look..” he blinks a little too hard at you. “Just use Han-Ji.. He is also as tired as we all are of you and Hyunjin’s….” He pauses. “..tension..”

“Who is we?” You asked confused.

Who else has been noticing your little crush on Hyunjin? Is what you really wanted to ask your best friend, but you don’t.

“..And there’s no tension between me and Hyunjin.. I don’t know what you talking about,” deny deny deny.

“Everyone in the friend group can feel the tension, you idiot,” the nickname causing you to pout. “Felix, Bin, Min, Lia—”

“—Hyunjin doesn’t like me.”

“Bet?” He was too quick with this. “I’ll let you have bragging rights if he doesn’t like you. But I get the bragging rights if he does,” he suggested.

“Huh, what?” Both of them sound bad to you. Why would you be happy with bragging rights if Hyunjin doesn’t like you back? It would sting you! And if by chance Hyunjin likes you back, you would hate to deal with Minho’s telling the whole campus he was cupid. What the hell was Minho on?

“What?” He laughed after noticing your face, full of displeasure. “I mean, the worst that could happen is he doesn’t like you back.. But then that means you get bragging rights?” Minho laughs tilting his head to the side. He can read you well.

“Dude you’re insufferable!” You rolled your eyes. He was still looking at you with his smirk.. Oh wait. “What do you mean like me back? I don’t like him,” you denied, it but wasn’t fast enough, he had caught you.

“Sure.. I know everything. Come on, trust me. I’m your best friend,” Minho nudges your shoulders. “Remember the party this weekend? How you rather sit at home and do nothing. Well maybe you should just come. We haven’t seen you out in a while.. Come, and be prettier than this..” he says looking down at your gym wear. You were in baggy sweat shorts and an even baggier t-shirt. “And I’ll help you get with him-”

“—Hey!” you shove his shoulder back. “What’s wrong with me now?!” You look down at your attire. It was gym class anyways of course you would be in this, even if you don’t participate.

“What? Nothing,” he answers playfully. “Come on, we going to be late to our next class!” Minho gets up before opening up his hand to help you up.  “Han-ji, we’re late!”

It was lunch time and you and Han-Ji ditched Minho to go down to the college’s local bakery to get some lunch.

“You’re totally not coming to the party?” Minho asked Hyunjin who was sat at the lunch table, eating his huge burrito. Seungmin, Felix and Chan were also there chiming into the conversation.

“Who’s going?” Hyunjin asked, a mouth full.

“Just the usual.. us. So, Chris, Bin, Jeongin, Yeji.. and then half of the third years are invited,” Hyunjin doesn’t look too interested. Don’t get the wrong idea, he loves his friends and parties, but he had also seen them every single day on campus, so he had no fear of missing out.

“…oh and Y/N says she’s going to come too,” Minho blurted, playing full attention to his friends reaction.

Hyunjin’s ears perks up at your name, his cheeks suddenly growing pink as he looks back at Minho.

“Actually.. I’ll come. Haven’t been had fun in a while,” Hyunjin drops the eye contact when he notices Minho’s sneer. “You want me to bring anything?” Hyunjin continues a little twitchy, playing with his food.

Minho just laughs. This was getting too exciting for him. “Bring your courage!” The rest of the boys laughed.

“What?” Hyunjin asked, narrowing his eyes at the crowd.

“You like Y/N, don’t you?” Seungmin exclaimed catching Hyunjin by surprised.

“Umm...” Hyunjin freezes. He doesn’t know how to answer. Of course, he likes you, but he didn’t want to admit knowing the boys were definitely going to tease him even more for it. But he didn’t want to say no just in case they spin it around to say he doesn’t like you at all as a friend.  

“Don’t worry bro, she likes you too,” Minho break the silence. Hyunjin’s heart stop at his best friend’s words. He didn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t that.

“Really? She likes me back?” Hyunjin replies promptly, a sheer smile pulling on his face. He was definitely blushing.  

“Back.. So you do like her?” Chan torments Hyunjin again and Hyunjin’s smile slowly faded form his face. They had caught him too.   

“Hey Y/N!” Felix calls out and the rest of the boys look over Hyunjin’s shoulder. He wanted to spin back to check but he didn’t want the boys to play more into his eagerness, so he just freezes looking straight at them.

“Hi Lix!” Your voice calls from behind him.

“Come here! Hurry!” Felix continues to make conversation with you.

“Bro just ask her out already, we’re all tired of the tension,” Chan quickly expresses.

“What tension?” Hyunjin was desperate to see what they had to say before you got to the table.

“Sexual tension,” Seungmin whispers and everyone goes silence, pressing their lips trying to hold back their smile.

“There’s no tension between me and—”

“—Okay you say there’s so tension? I guess Han-Ji can make his move then,” Minho interrupted, surprising Hyunjin again.

“Does Han-Ji likes Y/N—"

“—Shh she’s behind you,” Chan shushes the younger boy up before he could finish his sentence.

“Hey..” Hyunjin says timidly before you could even sit down.

“Hey..” you replied back, climbing over the bench so you can sit next to him. The whole group watches as Hyunjin blushed at your proximity. “Sit here,” you pat the area on the other side of you for Jisung to sit.

“Coffee and pastries for lunch? That place is like a 10 minute walk,” Chan askes from across the table.

“It’s okay, Han-ji keeps me company,” you say as you nudge Jisung a little bit and you both open up your pastry bag.

Hyunjin glances at you from aside, he stays quiet.

Hyunjin doesn’t know how to feel. He didn’t expect his boys to catch on about his feelings for you and he didn’t expect Minho to blurt out that you like him back. Hyunjin is also confused after seeing how close Han-Ji is to you too, he never really questions your close relationship until now. Does Han-Ji actually like you? Thoughts flood his brain as he continues to eat his burrito.  

You rushed home from your last Friday class to get ready for the party. You threw on one of your mini sun dress, pairing it up with some sandals and a cross body bag before collecting your black cardigan and rushing out to Yeji who was ready in the living room waiting to do some pre-party shots with you.

You and Yeji tipsy-ly made it to the loudest house on the street. Lee Minho’s residency. It was only 8pm and it was already crowded. She held your hand and clumsy pulls you through dim-lit hallways packed with people before reaching the living room. There they were, all of your friends in the living room with a drink in their hand, conversing with one another.  

“There they are!” Seungmin yells as he sees you and his girlfriend. He quickly makes his way to rip Yeji off you, pulling her into the kitchen to get a drink.

“Wow, my best friend finally came to one of my parties!” Minho appears out of no where handing you a beer.

“I was here two months ago Min..” You playfully rolled your eyes. “When you and Nayeon vomited everywhere and me and Felix had to bathe you guys.. naked,” you refreshed his memory.

“I remember.. Crazy night..” Minho laughs. He stops to look you up and down before grabbing your shoulders. “Very pretty Y/N. You planning to make someone jealous?” He complimented before getting back to his little mischiefs.

“Maybe,” you answered looking around the room. You hadn’t seen Hyunjin yet and Minho notices.

“Your boy is hella tipsy by the way, he keeps telling me he’s nervous but won’t tell me why,” Minho informs you.

“He’s not my boy.”

“Sure.. okay, anyways so not your boy is currently staring at you from behind,” Minho also announced as he stares at Hyunjin from over your shoulder.

Hyunjin’s heart stops at your presence. He has always found you pretty but tonight, he found you extremely gorgeous. Maybe because tonight was the night, he was going to let you know about his feelings. He takes another sip of his drink, pondering how he’s going to pull you away. He wanted to find the perfect timing, he didn’t want to do it too early just in case you reject him, and he has to go home early.

He watches you as you make your way to Jisung who was currently sat on the tiniest fucking armchair he had ever seen.

“Han-Ji!” You were going to follow Minho’s instructions; you either leave tonight with Hyunjin or rejected by Hyunjin but with bragging rights.

“Hey Y/N, you look like you had a couple of drinks already,” Jisung says as he touches his owns cheeks to indicate where your pink complexion was. You nodded bashfully to your friend before getting up on the arm of the chair to sit.

“It’s wet there, I just spilled my drink there. Come here,” Jisung stops you before you could sit. He pulled your arm so you can squeeze next to him on the tiny fucking armchair. You hope Hyunjin was watching.

“You okay?” Jisung asks cupping your face to lean your head against his shoulder - he knows how tired you get when you drink.

“Mhmm,” you closed your eyes as you continue to converse with your friend.

Hyunjin was still watching everything from the other side of the room. His hand was wrapped around his drink tightly, expressing his annoyance at the skin-ship and at himself for not pulling you away the second you got here, like he wasn’t waiting all night just for you to arrive. He starts to feel a little jealous now that your attention is on Han-Ji. And maybe Minho was right, and Han-Ji does have feelings for you.

He had to do it. He had to pull you away and ask why you hadn’t noticed his feelings for you all this time. He feels himself grow hot, he was feeling tense.

Hyunjin takes in a deep breath before downing the drink, squeezing his cup on the process. The plastic from the red cup causes disturbance making the boys turn their head at their friend.

“You good, pretty boy?” Changbin asks noticing the change in Hyunjin’s demeanour, taking the red cup out of his hand.

“Yeah, just need some air,” Hyunjin says running a hand through his fluffy red hair as he makes his way to you.

“Can we talk?” Someone askes from above you and you instantly open your eyes, locking eyes with them.

You feel your heart skip a beat as you finally see him. He had on some baggy jeans with a black t-shirt, one sleeved rolled up complementing his muscular arm. God, he looked so hot; you feel yourself drooling over him again.

“Okay.” You answered softly.

“Come,” he says, grabbing a hold of your hand making you get up from the chair. You heart start to flutter at his brace. Was it happening now? Is Hyunjin jealous?

He guides you through the crowd of people in the living room before dragging you up the stairs and towards Minho’s bedroom. He lets you enter first before locking the door behind him.

Your eyes wonder around Minho’s bedroom - his room was dark, quite clean, quite quiet for such a loud guy. You scoff to yourself quietly at the contrast. As you spin around the room, Hyunjin watches you and smiles at your cuteness before getting back to his senses of why he pulled you here in the first place.

“Are you drunk?” He asked suddenly.

“Hmm? Not quite yet,” you answered, making your way into Minho’s ensuite. “Why?” You asked so he can follow you, just testing the waters.

You placed your bag on the counter before digging through it trying to find your lipstick.

“What are you doing then?” Hyunjin asked towering behind you looking at you through the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You glance up at him to ask before going through your bag again, acting like you had no idea what was going on, even though your heart was beating just as fast as his.

“What were you doing up on Han-Ji like that?” Yep, he saw everything.

“I wasn’t on him?” You lied.

“Y/N.” He was getting a little be frustrated at your replies, you were obviously up to something.

“Why does it matter to you anyways—”

“—It’s making me jealous.” Hyunjin interrupted you making you glance up at him again. Minho’s plan was working. Minho was right.

You spin around to face him and finally, you can feel the tension everyone was talking about. He likes you. You feel your heart beating rapidly as he stares into your eyes. Your breathing becomes heavier as he takes another step towards you. You try to keep eye contact just to see if he drops it first, but he doesn’t. Your eyes drop first, to his lips then up to his eyes then back to his lips. They looked so full, so soft. Wouldn’t be crazy if you guys just kissed?

“Hyunjin?” You say above a whisper, lips forming into a pout right after. Hyunjin found you so precious looking up at him like this.

His resting face rapidly turns into a smirks now as he watches your eyes flicker to his lips. He knew what you wanted; he knows how you feel now. “Hmm?” He questioned, just to tease you a little bit.

“Can you just kiss me already?” You say, not begging but with a hint of desperation. You like him and you just confirmed he likes you, what were you guys waiting for?

He chuckles before his hand comes up to your face, cupping it for a second then he leans and kisses you. His lips felt so soft, so warm just like how you imagined them felt. You couldn’t explain the feeling, it was like you were in dream, it’s incredible.

Soon Hyunjin deepens the kiss, letting his tongue enter your mouth as one of his hand keeps your face in place, the other snaked down your body to your waist. Your tongue swiped against his lips, and you tasted a bit of lemonade and tequila. If this was a way to drink tequila, then you were all for it.

“Up,” he pulls away to say and you listen jumping onto the counter with the help of his grip. You spread your legs so he can stand in between them. He looks at you in awe, he couldn’t control his smile.

“You didn’t answer me..” he says as his hands find their way under your dress just resting on your thighs.

“Hm?” You whimpered, wanting his lips back on yours.

“What were you doing up on Han-Ji like that?” Hyunjin asked again, a little lower, a little more raspier now that he’s more confident to dominate you.

“To make you jealous,” you whisper back to him, admitting to all your little shenanigans.

“Why?” He couldn’t hold back his smile.

“To see if you like me back.” You say, and his ears perked up at your words.

“You got your answer?”

“Mhmm..” you admit.

“Good.”

“But.. want to hear you say it,” you reply cheekily, your arms coming to wrap around his shoulders to pull him close to you so your lips are barely touching.

He lets out an airy breath before pressing a kiss to your lips, letting it linger on for a little bit just to make your heart flutter once more for him. “I like you,” he says, and you try to conceal the smile pulling up on your face. “Happy?”

“Yes.”

“Where were we?” Hyunjin says and you pull him back onto you.

Maybe it was the pent up sexual tension you both had been holding in as, as soon as your lips were connected again, it became again heated. His hands are fondling with your thighs, and his tongue is slipped back down your mouth. You feel a hot sensation making its way to your core, a moan slipping from your lips. He smirked in between the kisses, his hands inching up higher now hiking you dress up.

Hyunjin continues his kisses down your neck, and you tilt your head back, letting him cover more area with his lips.

As he harshly sucks on your neck, your hands start to explore his body, caressing up and down his chest, down his covered stomach. You slowly creep them lower to his hard on that was pressing against the counter, begging to be touch. He lets out a groan at the contact.

“Hyunjin?” you whimpered at how stiff he was. You both wanted more but not on this cold bathroom counter. “Are we actually doing this here?” You ask.

“Where else would you do it?” Hyunjin looks down at you his a raised eyebrow, his hands stopping at your hips.

You look around before cheekily suggesting, “Minho’s bed,” and he cracks up.

“Come,” he takes a step back to hold your hand as you jump off the counter.

Hyunjin pulls you back onto him as he sat back on Minho’s bed - it was comfier than he expected, it was actually quite comfy to fuck on actually.

“You’re such a good kisser, it making me so horny,” He says, gripping your thighs so you’re straddling him. You feel his hard-on abusing your core and you become like jelly, draping yourself onto him. God, it was also making you so horny.

Are you both really gonna fuck in your best friend’s bed? Probably.

“Hyunjin?” You start to suck on his neck, returning the marks he gave you. “Wanna blow you… can I?” You asked, rolling your hips onto his.

He sucks in a sharp breath at the pleasure, halting your hips. “Fuck— kitten..” The pet name slipping from his lips, making you stop whatever you were doing to look him in the eyes. Did he just call you kitten? And did you like it?

“Yeah? Wanna be a good kitten? And suck me off right here in your best-friend room?” He teased after seeing your eyes lit up at the name.

“Yes.. wanna be a good kitten,” you replied, lifting his shirt to slowly to expose his abs, your hand lazily runs across his milky body.

You shuffled back, kneeling down by the bed before peeking at his happy trail. You finally got to see it up close, and you didn’t waste anytime before attaching your lips to it. Hyunjin’s hand flung to hold onto your hair and he lets out a groan as you suck the skin around his navel.

“You’re just like a kitten, nipping into me like that,” he moans.

“You love it,” you teased him.

“Yeah I do..” he confesses breathlessly. “Couldn’t stop thinking back to gym class yesterday.. how you eyed it all lesson..” Oh, so he caught you staring but didn’t say anything?

“Was it driving you insane?” He torments and you murmured nodding your head.

“God, kitten… need your mouth now, I’m might cum untouched,” he begs and you chuckle, blowing hot air from your mouth at his skin causing him to flinch.

You give him what he wants. You undo his jeans, shimmering it down his thighs before palming him through his boxer.

“Y/N, please..” he begs again, closing his eyes to hold in his release.

“You’re so big,” you say the second you pull down his boxer letting his red rock solid dick slap across his stomach. You didn’t expect him to be him to be this big, this thick. You gulp at it before wrapping your hands around him. “Wanna taste..” you blabbered as you brought his tip to your lips.

Hyunjin’s head kick back as you wrap your lips around his head. His hands gripped your hair tightly as he starts to set the pace, and you let him. He pushes you down taking half his length into your mouth before guiding you back up. You moan as he slides down your mouth, unable to control the pleasure you were having from just giving him head. Once you go match his pace, Hyunjin lets go of his grip and runs his through your hair, endlessly praising you as he tries to keeps himself together.

“You’re so good—” he sucks in another breath.

You take him fully into your mouth and gagged once he hits the back of your throat. “Ahh, cuming- cuming—” he lets out a low grunt as he paints your throat white. You swallow the warm thick liquid before letting go of him with a pop.

“Kitten, you’re so perfect. Such a good mouth,” he says finding your arm and pulling up to sit on his lap.

“Can I return the favour?” His hand wrapped around your hips, his finger carefully gathering the fabric of your skirt so he can expose your panties.

“I don’t know if I can keep quiet Hyunjin,” you admitted. You can still hear the loud music outside, even if it was muffled by the walls but a part of you’re still afraid someone might hear you. You couldn’t even keep it in while making out, nor sucking him off, you don’t know how you’ll be if you guys actually have sex.

“But I can’t leave you high like this,” Hyunjin replies, his two fingers just touching the fabric of your panties that was getting soaked by your wetness. You kick your head back at the pleasures “I just know you’re wet from sucking me off.. Let me, let me just eat you out..” he begged, his eyes turned dark full of lust.

“Please,” you gave in, out of breath.

Hyunjin plants a kiss to your neck before laying you down on the bed.

“Fuck, you are soaked,” Hyunjin says the second he lifts up your dress and sees the huge wet patch on your underwear. He kneels down and peels it off, watching a thin line of your wetness pulls off with it. Hyunjin spreads your legs wider and his eyes rolls to the back of his head as exposes you. You were wet, glistening, it was so hot to him.

You let out a moan as the cold from Minho’s room brushed against your core. “Please, need your mouth,” it was your turn to beg.

Hyunjin complies and attached his lips to your pussy. “Ahh! Mhmm.. More..” you weren’t kidding when you said you don’t know if you can keep quiet.

Hyunjin buries his face deeper as he contents to lick all over you, his nose rubbing against your clit. He was basically pussy drunk at his stage, gripping and pulling your hip closer to his faces. Your head falls back as you feel the pleasure building up in your core, your thighs volunteering closing around his head to add more pressure.

“I’m going cum, please.. Hyunjin— gonna cum..” you whine as he harshly sucks on your clit now, it was basically the cheat code in making you cum and he was able to get it the first time.

You moaned as you feel a glush of wetness explode from your core, you had cum. Hyunjin can tell you’re orgasming but he didn’t want to stop, you were too addicting.

You had to rip him off of you before you were overstimulated. “Hyunjin, too much,” you whined and he finally lifts his head.

“You taste too good kitten, sorry couldn’t stop,” he says and he wipes your wetness around his mouth with the back of his hand before licking it.

“Come here,” he jumps on the bed, pulling you into his arms. He runs his finger through your hair as you recover. You both stare at each other for a while before falling into a fit of giggles. How crazy is it that you were each other’s crush and not realising it.

“Should we go back out?” He asked smoothing down your hair.

“I have to touch up my lipstick first,” you say, pecking his nose.

“Let me help you,” he pulls you up from the bed before back hugging you to the bathroom where your bag was.

“Back to mine tonight, okay?” He reminded you softly as he wipes your lipstick in your lips - a hint of innocence radiating from him like he didn’t just lap up all your juices like a greedy animal.

“Of course, I have no where else I rather be tonight,” you answered, grinning from ear to ear at your pretty boy.

“Can’t believe it took you to squeeze into that tiny chair with Han-Ji for me to tell you,” Hyunjin beats himself up.

“It’s okay Hyunjin, I reckon the timing was perfect,” you reassured.

The house was packed now than before, it took you and Hyunjin a while to squeeze through all the people. Minho watch as you both hold hands, happily, making your way down the stairs, his smug pulling back on his face.

“Who got the bragging rights?” Minho asks cheekily as you both walk past him.

“You.” You answered rolling your eyes and Hyunjin laughs.

“You also got a messy bed too, bro,” Hyunjin taps Minho by the shoulders before following you.

Minho was left mouth agape as he stares up at the stairs. “Did they just…”

[catssluvr]

Hello I’m not sure where you wanted requests at so I’m Just going to do it here! Can you write a fic where reader is secretly in love w Emily and one day decides to wear a more revealing outfit (maybe like tighter to show off curves?) and notices that Emily is looking at her more often and when Emily confesses her feelings to reader, reader feels like she only did it for her body because r has been used for her body before and then Emily like states all the cute things r does and why she fell in love with her. Sorry it’s not very detailed or doesn’t make sense😓

tysm for requesting luv 💌 i added a few things, hope that's okay!! sorry for taking a bit <3

𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, emily prentiss

emily prentiss x fem!reader

emily confesses to you on a night out and what you believe to be the reason behind it makes you insecure.

warnings: insecurities, jealously, derek being flirty asf (platonically <3)

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

You take one last glance at yourself on the reflection of the car window. A black mini skirt that feels like it barely covers your thighs, tight burgundy cap sleeved top with a low cut and a bit more of makeup than usual. It's a bit more extra than what you're used to. After all, you work at the bau so the usual is either a suit or jeans and a sweater.

You can't help but feel a bit reluctant now that you're standing right outside the bar. You feel pretty, it's definitely nice to dress up once in a while. But in the back of your mind, you know you also want Emily to think you look pretty. The choice of color of your top might have been because you know it's one of her favorites.

You've had a little crush on her ever since she joined the team. Which was a good while ago so you don't think you can really consider it just a little crush anymore. You catch yourself looking at her way more than you'd like to admit. It's really hard not to look when she always looks so good.

But it's just a night out after all, everyone is going to be dressed up. You don't expect anything to happen, just to have enough drinks to make you tipsy but not too drunk because unfortunately work calls for you in the morning.

With a breathy sigh, you push the door open. Your gaze catches them immediately, sitting in a table in the middle of the bar with drinks in hand. Emily sees you first, waving you over to them.

"Hi! Oh- you look amazing, angel!" Penelope is the first one to throw a compliment that comes with a bright smile.

"Yeah, i really love your shirt. Nice color." JJ adds teasingly. She's known about your feelings for Emily for as long as they exist. And she obviously doesn't miss one single opportunity to tease you about it.

"Thank you, guys." You take the empty seat between Pen and Emily, your cheeks turning pink once you feel the raven haired eyeing you.

"You should wear that color more often, JJ is right." Emily states, only loud enough for you to hear while the other two girls start chattering about something you can't quite focus on. Not when she's leaning slightly towards you so you can hear properly over the music, the only thing you can actually focus on is her lips that are covered in pink lipstick.

"Oh- Thank you, Em-" Before you can say anything else, or better, stutter out something else, you're interrupted by Derek.

"Well hello, hot stuff." He hands you on of the two drinks on his hands, playfully checking you out. "Looking good today, uh?" He chuckles, pulling a nearby chair and squeezing between you and Emily. You almost scowl at him for interrupting whatever was happening before.

"Yeah, don't get too excited." You play along, not the slightest bit surprised by his flirty antics. You fail to notice the way Emily's shoulders slump at the interaction.

"Can't help it, pretty girls are like magnets to me." You roll your eyes but chuckle once again, he does have quite a way to cheer people up.

Conversation and laughter fill the table soon after, all of you enjoying the rare night out. After all, it's not all the time you get to all be together to talk about something that isn't work.

You notice Emily seems awfully quiet today, barely exchanging words with anyone after your conversation was interrupted by Derek, keeping herself busy with the drink in her hands. You try to gather the courage to small talk with her, but everytime you glance at her, she's in fact already looking at you. And you can't help but feel too embarrassed to actually say anything. Besides, with Morgan sitting between you two you can't really talk to her without getting teased in a not so merciful way. He's also very aware of your pining over eachother. You're pretty sure everyone's aware of it by now. Only making it worse for your embarrassment.

"So, does the pretty girl dance?" Derek asks once he notices you're done with your drink

"Don't you have like loads of other girls in this bar for that?" You retort. You don't exactly feel nice for wanting to dismiss him somewhere so you can talk to Emily, but you really are starting to get worried.

"Sure, but i have the prettiest one of them right here." He insists, not resisting to laugh at his own horrible attempt to fake flirt. You sense he's got something up his sleeve but decide not to question it.

You look at her once more, frowning at the way she looks at the glass in front her, not acknowledging your gaze this time.

"Sure." You sigh, giving in rather quickly. You just didn't want to have the face the awkward silence that would settle between you and Emily if he left. Worst part is you don't have a clue to why she would be upset.

Derek drags you away from the table as soon as the answer leaves your lips. He twirls you once you reach where there's other people dancing, a surprised gasp leaving you before you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

Meanwhile Emily sits at the table with an almost sad frown on her face. This was supposed to be the day she was going to confess her feelings to you, but Derek was rather quick to ruin it. She doesn't remember how long she's been waiting to do it. And now she's pretty sure she's closer to losing her chance with you. You're perfect, it's just a matter of time until someone else realizes it and steals away her chance.

She watched the way he holds your waist and can't help but feel jealous, wishing it was her in his place. Emily knows you're merely friends but she envies the way he can flirt with you so easily without turning into an absolute mess. The most she got herself to do was compliment the color of your shirt. It's not usual to see you dressed up and she wish she could have the courage to tell you how pretty she thinks you look. Not just today, but every other day.

"You're drooling." JJ chuckles but only receives a cold glare in return. Emily can't actually focus on how pretty you look when there's someone else touching your waist and dancing with you. She is looking, nevertheless.

"You know he's doing it on purpose, right?" JJ asks with raised eyebrows.

"What?" Emily finally looks at the blonde girl beside her.

"He's just flirting with her to get on your nerves. Thought you were a good profiler, Em."

"Why would he do that?" The raven haired asks with furrowed brows.

"Maybe cause you're both idiots who don't realize you're in love with eachother. Jesus, everyone else knows but you at the point." JJ answers easily, as if she'd been wanting to say it for a while.

"I know i do, it's not a secret. But i'm pretty sure she's not interested, she would've say something if she was. If anything, she thinks i'm creep for looking so much tonight." Emily gulps down her drink, trying to act the least bothered possible. She is in fact very bothered, it's eating her up that she hasn't had the courage to approach you the whole night.

"It's not like you say anything either." She retorts before adding, "Besides, it wouldn't hurt to try asking her out."

Emily hums in response, not really sure what to think of JJ's suggestion. It is true that she can't be sure about your feelings towards you, but she doesn't think she can be more obvious with her own feelings.

Then again, she could at least try for once before it gets too late. Just maybe not tonight, she thinks as she sees you now sitting by the stools drowning down the second shot with Penelope.

She gives you and Garcia a ride home later that night. Occasionally looking over at you in the passenger seat, deciding what would be the best way to ask you out. It can't get past tomorrow, that's the only thing she's sure about.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

You let out a frustrated sigh as you reach for some paper towel, cleaning the spilled coffee on the counter. Everything seems to be going incredibly bad today. You woke up with a bigger hungover than you had intended to, resulting in a bad mood that worsened once you started thinking about the previous night.

You don't mind Emily looking at you. In fact, you wish she would look only at you forever. The biggest highlight of the whole night was probably when she told you about how good you look in red. You had flushed red quite a few times once you realized she had her eyes on you for most of the night.

But overthinking got the best of you, as usual. It started to feel weird that she would look at you specifically yesterday, the day you decided to dress up. You know it's bad to jump into conclusions, but it's the only thing you can think about. Your stomach turns at the thought of it, disappointment creeping over you. Why wouldn't she want to look at you in any other day?

"Hey, everything okay?" Emily walks into the kitchenet with a small smile on her.

"Yeah. Just spilled some coffee, Em." You murmur, avoiding her gaze at any cost. You move to leave but she's quicker to speak up.

"Do you- i was hoping to ask you something." She says, fingers nervously fidgeting with her blazer.

"Sure, what is it?" You turn back to her, trying to hold yourself together.

"Would you like go grab some food after work?" She asks tentatively.

Your stomach drops, a million of thoughts running through your head. You want to say yes, desperately. But you don't want to end up getting hurt either.

"As a date." She adds quickly. It doesn't help at all that she's looking at you so hopefully.

"I like you, i really do. But maybe it's not a great idea. I mean, i know i usually don't wear clothes like that but i wasn't expecting you to be interested in me just because of it and-" You stop yourself from rambling on.

"What? That's not why i'm asking you out." Emily looks more confused than ever, mouth open in surprise.

"You don't have to say that." You mumble, growing nervous under her gaze.

"It's the truth. I'm asking you out because i've been in love with you pretty much since the day i started working at the bau." She admits, way more straight forward than intended. But it hurt her to know you'd think that of her. "And i do think you're pretty, the prettiest actually. But i could list out a hundred other reason to why i love you that are way more important than that."

"Em..." You cam feeling yourself starting to grow hot. It was indeed a bad idea to just into conclusions, you know she isn't like that.

"No, wait. In fact, i will list it out." She adds while reaching for your already clammy hand. "I love the way you were the only one to support me since day one, i love it when you fall asleep on my shoulder after a case because you feel safe enough to do it, i love how you bring me coffee in the morning almost everyday without expecting anything in return and i love how you're the most caring person i've ever met. I love you for you, not your body. And i was trying to find the courage to ask you out yesterday, i'm sorry if i made you feel that way." She lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding, an incredibly heavy weight being lifted off her shoulders.

"Is that date offer still up?" You ask with a breathy laugh, feeling stupid for it the second after. You expected anything but a love confession today. It was the first question that came to mind.

"Of course." She answers gently with a chuckle, thumb rubbing against your hand just as gently.

"Em?" You say slightly above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"I love you too." You can't hide the smile (neither does she) that forms on your lips, pressing a smiley kiss on the corner of her lips.

·˚ ༘₊·꒰➳: ̗̀➛

love you,

cat 🤍

[senualothbrok]

Love and beauty

Summary: A few days after Astarion has taken you to his grave, you are lying in bed together. You decide it's time to make a confession.

Musings on beauty, love and death.

Word count: 1.3k

Non-18+. Astarion x female Tav. Non-ascended Astarion. References to bereavement.

AO3 link

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are lying on your side, looking at Astarion.  Here at the Elfsong Tavern, morning is rousing from its slumber. You are cocooned in the bed you have shared with him since the night he took you to his grave. The sheets are warm and soft beneath you, and in their burgundy shadows, his skin glows like porcelain. He lies on his back, his silver eyelashes fanning out below his closed eyes like silk. His crown is a white maze of waves. Just recently you have noticed the faint threads which form around his mouth and eyes when he laughs, slight indents where his eyebrows meet his nose when he is focused. And sometimes, barely perceptible dimples dance on his cheeks.

You never tire of looking at him. There is always something new to see, and you never know how long you have left to see it.

“I can feel you staring at me.” A lazy eye opens and fixes on you. “Has no one ever told you that it’s rude to stare?”

There is mischief in his smile, and you return it. You run your fingers over his collarbone. He shifts his chin closer to your hand.

“I can’t help it.”

He stretches, long and languid, a fang peeking out on his lower lip.

“I know, darling.” He turns onto his side to face you. “It’s why you’re here. You can’t get enough of my devastating beauty.”

The words carry no edge. He is still himself, not the masked imitation. He twirls his fingers around a strand of your hair as it caresses your shoulder.

“You are devastatingly beautiful, it’s true.” You play with a curl at his temple, tracing the edge of his ear. You consider for a moment. “But you know, all of that… it only goes so far.”

“Oh?” He regards you quizzically.

“Well…” You turn the thoughts over in your mind. “I’m human, Astarion. Even humans blessed with devasting, soul-crushing beauty, like yours – most of us don’t live that long. We get old and grey. We get wrinkles.”

He scrunches his nose. You laugh.

“I know, disgusting, those wrinkles. But when you have to contend with ageing, and with death… it’s different.”

You are not sure he understands what you are saying. You yourself are not entirely sure.

You nuzzle your nose into his. He slides his arm under your head, circling it around your shoulder. You curl into his chest. There is a silence, but it is so light, like being bathed in morning sun.

Maybe it is because every day draws you closer to the Netherbrain. Or maybe it is because he has shown you where he died, and has shared with you his rebirth. Now, you feel the last bastion inside you can come down. This last pearl you have hidden from him, you can now give, trusting he will not cast it away.

“I had a husband once,” you say.

You have not spoken about him for a long time. It surprises you that it does not hurt anymore to mention him. To remember.

“It was a lifetime ago now. He was beautiful too, when we met. Though nowhere near as beautiful as you.” You brush your lips across Astarion’s skin. “He was smart. He had a way with words. And he was kind.”

You are relieved that Astarion does not say anything. He does not tense in shock or anger. There is no judgment. He only listens, holding you.

“He actually looked a lot like Gale. Sometimes when he speaks, Gale even sounds like him.”

Astarion bristles at this. “So you’re telling me that one of our travelling companions, one of our closest allies and friends, is the spitting image of the love of your life? And you’re telling me this, why?”

You are not entirely surprised by his reaction. And maybe you find it endearing that Astarion could feel even a prickling of jealousy about a man you loved and lost so long ago. You chuckle, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the curve of his jaw. He eases with a huff.

“This isn’t the point of my story.”

“Well, you best get to it soon,” he shoots back, but he does not pull back his embrace.

There is a softness, a playfulness, to his irritation. You nibble his ear lobe gently and he sighs. He waits. You go on.

“He was a lot older than me. When he got sick, I took care of him. He died in his sleep. I laid him to rest. By that point, he was an old man. And he’d lived a good life.”

You remember your husband’s face through a haze. His papery skin, so thin you could tear it by mere touch. Frosted hazel eyes, and snaking veins on hands that you clasped so tightly against your wet face after he had breathed his last. The years of love that had filled the hole he left, buoying you through the grief.

“There’s something about that kind of love. Through age, and sickness, and everything in between. The long and boring days. The petty arguments. The stupid things we joked about. Everything we shared together.”

You heart fills as you speak of him. There is no more sorrow when you think of him now, only gratitude.

“I loved him till the end. That kind of love - it went well beyond his beauty.”

Astarion is quiet and still for a long time. When he moves back to look at you, you cannot read his gaze.

“But I won’t age,” he says. “I won’t die.”

You nod.

“I’ll be like this forever.”

“Forever beautiful, forever young.” You glance at the scars and ripples of your flesh, and you cannot help but feel a pang of envy.

He frowns. In the pause that follows, you wonder where he has gone. You wish he could take you with him.

“How will I know, then?” he asks suddenly.

“Know what?”

“How will I know…” He struggles, as though each word is a heavy load. He clears his throat. “How will I know what kind of love it is?”

There is an emptiness in his eyes now, like a kind of sadness. A loss. You reach out and press your palm to his heart.

“Are you asking me whether I would still love you-“

“If I wasn’t beautiful.” He grimaces. “If I was old and grey, or sick, or…” He trails off briefly. “If I had wrinkles. Like Gale.”

You laugh, and you see that it gives him comfort. Because Astarion still cannot help but mask a plea with a jibe.

“What do you think?” you ask.

He hesitates. His eyes caress your face, drinking in every detail, every line and curve, every shadow and blemish. A balm spreads through you as he sees you, just as you see him, since the very first time you promised to be his mirror. You know he can see your answer.

But he is uncertain, and he is still afraid.

“Without a doubt, Astarion,” you breathe.

He turns away. You wait. It no longer weighs on you when he withdraws. You know now that he will always return. You will give him time, now. You will give him space. He will come back when he is ready.

But then, so abruptly, he clasps you against him. You are enveloped in the coolness of his skin, the warm wetness of his mouth, the blanket of his body around you. The moment is a world in itself, swirling and gathering and expanding, holding you fast.

It ends as it began. You lie there, tracing circles in each other’s souls. Morning has broken, and muffled voices are bustling through the bedroom walls. Slowly, you edge to the side of the bed, and he rises to join you.

“I don’t think he was the love of my life, by the way.” You say it like an afterthought, but it is not.

“I damn well hope not,” he counters, sharp and fast.

But the gentleness in his gaze tells you all you need to know.

---

Liked this fic? You can find more of my work here.

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 3 - C’est Un Gars

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none... just some instant attraction and flirting ;)

Word Count: 2.6k

Author's Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is when reader and Benedict finally meet. Yep, that's the whole chapter. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy! <3

Paris, September 1939

Benedict doesn't turn up the next day. Or the day after that. Some snag with travel arrangements that Eloise doesn't explain, and you don't pry. You suspect she championed any excuse for him to delay his trip. But it does mean his arrival is not particularly front of your mind as the days slip by.

It's a week later - after an exhausting workday in uncomfortable shoes - when you get home and notice the door is unlocked. Assuming it's Eloise, you enter the apartment distractedly, reading a flyer you picked up on your journey home.

“El, did you see this?” you call out without looking up, dropping your bag as you unbuckle your T-strap heel, the relief to your foot palpable, flinging the first aside. “There is a new jazz night in Montmartre… I think we should go, seeing as your troublesome brother is never turning up…”

“He is actually…” a refined, resonant voice calls out from across the room with a wry tone. There, silhouetted by the bright window, is the outline of a tall man.

You stumble in shock, twisting your ankle quite heavily as you remove the last shoe, and he rushes forward to your aid, large hands grasping your waist, stopping you from falling down and righting your stance. His hold is gone as soon as you are stable. 

Discombobulated and embarrassed, you find yourself staring up into the most handsome face you have ever seen in your twenty-two years on earth, tongue-tied and awkwardly holding your right shoe. Not the introduction you would want with anyone.

“Benedict?” you squeak, mouth rapidly running dry.

“The very same,” his acknowledging smile is crooked, and something gallops hard through your chest. “Y/n, I presume?”

All you can do is nod. You can see the family resemblance - chestnut hair, blue eyes, a proud jaw - but damn if this is not the most fetching male version of Eloise’s prettiness. Tall and broad-shouldered, he looks very dashing in a royal blue three-piece suit with a crisp white shirt and burgundy and gold striped tie. 

“Are you alright?” his forehead creases in concern as he nods to your ankle.

“I… I think so?” you stutter. There is a slight throb there, but it's almost background to the riot in the rest of your body at the very sight of this man. 

Oh god, Eloise is going to disown me…  

Her warning from last week is ringing in your ears as you attempt a step but can't hide the wince at the bloom of pain as your weight transfers.

“Hmmm, I think that's a no,” he hums. “Come, take my arm, let's get you seated and this foot raised…..”

And so you find yourself clinging to the arm he offers, feeling the latent power under the layers of fabric as he provides a solid brace to lean on. Still a touch mortified, you drop onto the sofa as elegantly as you can, raising your ankle onto the coffee table and sighing with relief. You don't miss how his eyes linger briefly on your stockinged leg before he bustles over to your refrigerator and grabs a chilled bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. 

“Here, this should help,” he explains as he walks back. 

“Drink until it doesn’t hurt anymore?” you guess drolly. 

His responding laugh is warm and crinkles his eyes so beguilingly. “Stop the swelling,” he explains as he slides to sit on the coffee table next to your leg and presses the bottle against your ankle. 

You hiss gently behind your teeth, the coolness seeping through your stocking. Your eyes meet, and you swear his dilate a fraction, the hand not holding the bottle wrapping around the inside of your ankle to align your foot better, long elegant fingers cupping your arch. Just that simple touch is enough to make your pulse race. Something about this man feels electric. Like standing beside a humming pylon, an energy coursing through you.

“It’s nice to finally meet the artist,” you murmur, gesturing to the artwork you know so well now.

His eyes track to the painting, and his face lights up. “You like it?” his tone so hopeful.

“It's beautiful,” you confess, a tingle where you can feel the warmth of his fingers flexing around your foot, contrasting to the cold of the bottle.

“Thank you,” he demures, bowing his head and looking up at you through his lashes, a dot of colour high on his cheekbones.

“What the….”

You both twist to see Eloise standing in the doorway, mouth agape. Benedict’s hand flinches away from your foot, and you realise it must look more incriminating from her angle, unable to see the cold compress. All she sees is him sitting on the coffee table, grasping your leg as you talk softly to each other….

“El! Hi!” you call, attempting a breezy tone, “I tripped on my way in, and Benedict here was just helping me. I’m okay,” you add preemptively.

He jumps up from the coffee table and indeed indicates your injury. Eloise nods to acknowledge it, then narrows her eyes at him before walking over and giving him a quick embrace, kissing his cheek.

“Hello, brother. I was hoping you would never show up,” she greets sardonically.

“Hello, little sister, always such a warm welcome…” he drawls.

You can’t help but giggle at their exchange, and both seem pleased to have entertained you, twinkles in their similar eyes.

“Well, this rather scuppers tonight’s dancing plans…” Eloise motions at your ankle.

“You and Solene go without me. Why not take Benedict, too?!”

“I’ve had a full day of travel. I’d rather not…” he confesses when Eloise looks at him expectantly.

“Spoilsport,” she rolls her eyes. “Where are you staying?” 

“I haven’t booked anywhere...” he confesses, looking a touch sheepish. as you clock a suitcase against the wall. 

“Well then, your choices are to find a hotel now or sleep on our sofa,” she shrugs. 

“If it means it will get you packed quicker, I’ll stay right here,” he answered pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

“Brother, have you ever been to Paris before?” You can tell Eloise is winding up for one of her persuasions with that opening gambit, so you chuckle and relax back into the sofa, crossing your arms, about to enjoy the show.

“Is this going to be a two-minute or a ten-minute Eloise soliloquy?” he misdirects dryly, catching your eye and winking, which makes your heart skip.

Undeterred by both of your reactions, Eloise launches into her argument. “I know for a fact you haven’t, so let me say this. You are an artist. This is the art capital of the world. It would literally be irresponsible for you not to stay a while. Enjoy the galleries. Soak up the atmosphere. Get inspired. Hell, y/n here works in a gallery and has quite the encyclopedic knowledge of all the artists on display in the city - a literal font of knowledge…” As she extols your virtues, his eyes cut to you, an admiration and curiosity in them that makes your lungs feel tight, “…I would personally judge you for not staying. At least a week? Maybe two…”

“Delay tactics, El,” he sighs, but even you can see him wavering.

“Paris may not always be here, at least not as it is now,” you append, unwilling to look at him as you say it, looking out across the rooftops wistfully. “The art truly is spectacular, and if war comes to its doorstep in the next few months, who knows what could happen? You may regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t experience at least some of it.” Your focus back in the room as you look upon his art again. “Someone who paints something that beautiful deserves to see the old European masters up close…” you end on a shrug.

His gaze feels heavy like a cloak as Eloise waves her hands towards you. “Yeah… THAT,” she adds with finality.

Benedict sighs and tips his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows heavily.

“Fine. Three days,” he capitulates. “But, Eloise, you must be packed and ready to leave by then. I mean it. I don’t need Mother’s wrath about this…” his warning avuncular.

“Promise,” she smirks, before grinning and whooping in victory, doing a little jig as he shakes his head with exasperated affection.

“Prêt à partir?”  Solene's face appears around the doorframe, her face made up for a night out.

“Not for me,” you pout as she opens the door fully. “ I twisted my ankle. But I’m pretty sure Eloise wants a bit more victory dance time,” you smile as Eloise nods furiously, still swaying. 

They all offer to help you to your room, but you steadfastly refuse, confident you can hobble to bed when the time comes. Wishing them all well, you’re looking forward to some quiet alone time after an eventful day. 

—

Half an hour later, you are reading a book and feasting on brie and crackers when there is a soft knock at the door.

“Come in?” your call is tentative, unsure who might be knocking this late.

You frown as a key jangles in the door, then a warm flush down your spine as Benedict appears in the doorway, suitcase in hand.

“Eloise gave me a spare key. The hotel is fully booked for tonight,” he grimaces apologetically. 

“Sofa it is?”

“Appears so…”

“So there’s only one hotel in the whole of Paris, then?” you tease softly as he removes his hat and drops his case.

“Only one in close enough proximity to ensure Eloise doesn’t have time to pack and up and abscond to god know where before I can intervene, yes…” that crooked grin reappearing.

“I’d never let her do that!” you gasp in mock outrage. “At least not without taking me too….”

He laughs heartily and moves to the counter to grab two wine glasses and a bottle opener, asking silently with an eyebrow raise if you want to join in, which you enthusiastically agree to.

“What will you do? When we leave?” He asks over the glugging sound of the glasses being filled. 

“My family has told me to move up my return sailing to as soon as possible…” you can’t hide the disappointment in your tone. “I know I should do it… I just…”

“…Don’t want to give up on something before you even know how much you need it?” He guesses as he hands you a glass.

You are momentarily floored by how accurately he has pinpointed your feelings.

“Yes,” your reply is quiet but emphatic, a jolt to your being as your fingers brush while taking the drink, “that’s exactly it!”

“I understand…” and there is a world of empathy in his tone, raising his glass in silent toast, which you mirror. “But time isn’t on your side…” he reminds after a sip, “a few weeks, months if we are lucky, and Paris may well be invaded.”

“England too…” 

“Perhaps, indeed. So you should go. Be safe. Back home to America…”

“What if that’s the very last thing I want?” your whisper is more fervent than you intended.

“That sounds more like a reason you don’t want to go than a reason you want to stay,” he surmises, again frighteningly on target with his assessment of your feelings, almost as if he’s in tune with them somehow. “But yet… Eloise said you’re engaged?” he aims for nonchalant, but you could swear there is dejection too.

“Sort of…” a wave of guilt crashing into you as your thoughts slide to Stanley. Good, reliable, comfortable, safe Stanley.

“How does one become ‘sort of’ engaged?” he frowns bemused, using air quotes. 

“Growing up down the street from someone your age whose father happens to be your own father's best friend and business partner?”

“Oh…” there’s a pause, “you’re not being pressured, are you?” his query filled with concern. It makes your ribs glow that he might even care.

“No… just… a life plotted out,” you echo the words Eloise threw at you on your first night here.

“And it’s not the life you want…?”

“I used to think so…,” you sigh, eyes cutting to the side as you feel a swell of a tear forming.

“You have the right to change your mind,” Benedict attests softly as you twirl your glass between your fingers. “You don’t owe anyone else your happiness.”

You want to climb into his lap, grab his jaw and kiss him senseless. The impulse so strong you can feel a tingle where his stubble would abrade your lips if you did so. Suddenly worried you'll act recklessly if you stay any longer, you rise to your feet, make your excuses and limp mildly to your room… laying in bed staring at the ceiling for a long time before sleep claims you.

–

It's the middle of the night when you awaken thirsty and decide to get a glass of water, your ankle much better from the laydown. Half-asleep, you wander out of your room, fumbling towards the kitchen area, when you almost trip for an entirely different reason. Well, perhaps the same reason you tripped in the first place.

There on the sofa, in a shaft of moonlight, is Benedict, fast asleep; his face is so peaceful in repose. But that is not where your eye lingers. He is topless, a blanket pooled around his waist, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. And you cannot look away. He is all smooth planes of skin peppered with occasional moles that your fingertips itch to trace patterns between. His shoulders are indeed broad without a suit, and it's obvious he is somewhat of an athlete; the play of muscle and ribcage as he breathes deep utterly entrancing. It's so completely different to how Stanley looks - hairy and stout - that you drift closer without realising it, drawn to the sight. It's the closest you’ve seen to a breathing Statue of David, a shape you didn't think real humans came in…. until now. 

So much so you don't even realise when his eyes flutter open, just transfixed by how his breathing pattern appears to change the flex of his abdominals.

“Are you alright?” his voice is a rough whisper and you startle. His eyes seem to focus, and you notice they flit down your body before he seems to stop himself.

“Sorry,” you stumble in apology, feeling your face flushing violently as your eyes fly to his face, then look away, embarrassed to be caught ogling so obviously.

“Do you need anything?” 

Yes, to run my tongue over that divot right there… your mind screams.

“No, no... I just came out to get some water and worried you might be cold uncovered,” you bluster. “I was going to cover you up, but you awoke before I could….” 

You are mildly impressed you can come up with an excuse as your heart pounds in your ears. Benedict’s face morphs into an intriguing mix of knowing, lopsided smile and bashfulness, pointedly pulling up the covers until they are tucked under his chin.

“Better?” he rumbles, and you could swear it is with a teasing lilt.

“Much…” you nod before awkwardly turning away.

“Y/n…” he calls softly, and you look at him over your shoulder, a flutter in your belly as you catch him glancing at your bottom.

“What…?”

“I'm glad your ankle seems better,” he offers softly.

“It is, thanks to you…”

“De rien…” his response, low and deep, in a flawless French accent, makes goosebumps break out over your arms.

Damn you, Benedict Bridgerton.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

[l0vegl0wsinthedark]

Zoom In.

Muggle AU, professor of 18C literature and poetry Draco, celebrity Harry ✨️

~

Violet was the first to log in - again. In the minutes before class began - in the "waiting room" - while she stared at her blank screen, it felt like the only real few moments she truly had to herself.

She spent all those moments, like so many others, thinking about Professor Malfoy.

To every single straight girl, and the singular gay guy, in class, Professor Malfoy was prime wank material. Violet hadn't known her classmates to be as desperate for a good word on their assignments from any other professor. To think homework would feature so high on the to-do lists of some of the biggest lunkheads she knew...there was definitely something about him, that Professor Malfoy.

She could see the appeal. The eerily pale eyes, hair, and skin made to appear warmer by the fluffy jumpers - all in elegant shades of scarlet, burgundy, emerald, wine, golden yellow - he wore over crisply ironed button-downs and tailored trousers; the way he used his hands when he talked, long fingers like a pianist's; the slim golden spectacles he was constantly misplacing on his own head, the rich precision with which he pronounced the olde names and subjects that he spoke of - it was very difficult not to admire Professor Malfoy.

All of that, but nobody really knew much about him outside of uni.

They'd switched to virtual classes a week ago; hurrah for the new pandemic. The idea that she didn't have to sit in class with her tittering classmates, a stray cough sounding now and again, made Violet automatically sit up straighter and smile, just as the little boxes on her screen began popping into life.

"Aaaayyyy!"

"Tell me we don't need to have our faces on display."

"So, yes, before anyone asks: this is a real lip ring. An actual piercing. Yeah, I'm not blowing you, Greg, sod off."

"Is Professor Malfoy on?"

"No, I don't see him here yet. Did he grade your essay?"

"Yo, can someone please tell me how to turn this camera off, I am smashed out my--"

"Click on the camera icon, Bryan--"

"It's not even noon, what d'you mean "smashed"?

"No, you've turned off your mic. No, we cannot hear you screaming."

"First icon on the bottom left," Violet said, rolling her eyes.

And then Professor Malfoy was in class.

There was a beat of silence before everyone called out greetings, a chaotic round of cheerful hello's that nobody could quite make sense of. Least of all Professor Malfoy.

He was peering into his screen, his slim nose scrunched.

"All right, so I can see me. Can you?"

Cacophonic confirmations.

"Okay, so nobody can see or hear me. Right."

More shrill reassurances. One loud beer-belch.

"Damn it all to hell, I knew this would happen, I told him that I'll need--"

"We can see you!" shrieked Preiti.

"We can hear you!" Nora bellowed.

But Professor Malfoy was already twisting around in his chair, scowling heavily, and screaming, "OY! COME IN HERE, YOU MISERABLE WANKER!"

Violet, along with her classmates, just stared in mystified silence. The professor never spoke like that. He ticked them off if they did.

A tall figure in a too big hoodie appeared suddenly, hissing back at Professor Malfoy. There was a golden lion printed on the maroon jacket. The hood was drawn in close, and Violet could just barely make out the light from the computer screen glinting off a pair of round glasses, on which a shaggy fringe of dark hair fell.

"You need to turn the volume up. Git," said the stranger. "Your camera's already on."

"I hate technology," Professor Malfoy seethed.

"You hate so much else. I'm getting fish and chips." The man was already walking off.

"I want mushy peas too, with mine."

"What kind of sick bastard." The room door was shut with a thud.

"Sorry about all that. We are now officially in session," Professor Malfoy said, smiling and restoring his glasses upon his nose. "Do you all have--?"

There was a muffled shout from somewhere behind the professor. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Professor Malfoy called back, "No. No, I don't want a curry dipping sauce."

There was more muffled yelling.

"Harry, get out right now!" shrieked Professor Malfoy, and Violet, along with the others, just ogled.

Malfoy sighed. "Sorry 'bout that. Just my idiot husband."

"You're married?!" Violet had asked before she could stop herself.

Professor Malfoy sighed, flipping open a thick, spiral bound folder. "Yes. You've heard of Harry Potter, I'm sure. He's the poor idiot I married."

[amaiaqt]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤミㅤthe cold has never been so niceㅤ⋆ ｡˚ㅤ♡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤspending cold evenings with them ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤventi, xiao, kazuha, heizou, wanderer !

"anonymous order; ...could i have lovey dovey + 5wirl + warm milk vs. hot chocolate ? — message cut."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthese guys are in high demand esp for lovey dovey LMAO ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthank you and please enjoy, xoxo ♡

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤventi !ㅤ

sometimes the wind can be cold, and those are the times that venti uses to his advantage as an excuse to coddle - or to be coddled by - you.

and in his defense, it's not much. since it's not everyday and night that he has your undivided attention after all. so he wants to make the most of this evening with you, even if it means refusing to let you get out of bed.

"windblume don't leave the bed ~" he pleaded, hand tugging on your clothes to hold you back, though it wasn't really effective. you stood up from the bed despite your boyfriend's protests, slightly dragging him with you by the arm that still refused to let go.

"i'll be right back, promise ! i'm just gonna go make us hot chocolate." you took the hand that tugged on your shirt in yours, chuckling at the childish huffs your boyfriend let out. he begrudgingly got up, rubbing his eyes and choosing to follow you instead. "i'll just . . go with you." "i said i'll be right back ?" "it'll be cold without you either way !"

"alright, alright, if you say so."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤalatus xiao !

he believes he's adapted to the cold, both figuratively and literally. but even a yaksha can't deny the comforting warmth that shields against the harsh breeze.

here he is, sitting by his now favored spot on the balcony of the inn, across from you. the makeshift coffee table you had borrowed from downstairs sat between the two of you, with the tea set you had oh so excitedly showed him the other day set out.

as you poured the newly boiled water into the cups, xiao sighed as the steam warmed him up. "i think it's strange how instead of making tea with this set, you're brewing up milk instead." he commented, bringing the cup closer to his face to further warm himself up with the steam. "well we don't have tea now do we ?" "couldn't you have asked smiley yanxiao ?" "i did, he didn't have any." "i see,"

the wind on the balcony brought a sudden breeze, and xiao reached over to tuck some stray strands away from your face for you.

"do you like the cold, xiao ?" "i like it better with you."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤkaedehara kazuha !ㅤ

the winds were feeling generous today, he hummed to himself as he chose to redo his low ponytail, brushing back most of his bangs as he tied it back up, slowly growing inconvenience by how the wind blew his hair into his line of sight.

kazuha took a deep breathe as he admired the moon, illuminating the water in a way you'd see in a painting.

"kazu, come down would you ?" he whipped his head around to see you below, taking note of the two cups in your hands. he smiled softly as he used the ropes to glide down to the deck. "sorry darling, did you get cold without me ?" he asked, taking the cup you offered him and breathing in the scent of the cocoa. "i did actually, but i figured to make some hot chocolate before coming out for you." he chuckled, pulling you in as you two now sat on a nearby bench, his hand resting on your waist as he blew softly on his cup.

"the moon is beautiful, isn't it ?" he leaned his head on your shoulder, while yours leaned on his. "it is, but that's no excuse for you to be staying up so late." you flicked his forehead lightly, laughing along with him.

"i know, i know. besides," he looked up at you, "i have my own moon already."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤshikanoin heizou !ㅤ

soft lips trailed kisses all over your collarbone as heizou laid on your chest, the pitter patter of the rain on the windows fading into somewhat of a melody.

he sighed whenever your fingertips would massage his scalp lightly before brushing through his burgundy locks. "mhmm, if only we could be like this more often." he huffed, nuzzling his face further into your chest as his arms comfortably wrapped around you.

you chuckled, "yeah, but a great detective is always needed, otherwise, cases aren't going to solve themselves are they ?" this earned a scoff from the detective. "but you need a great boyfriend too, am i right ?" he smiled up at you, now leaning up on his elbows.

you shook your head with an ear to ear smile on your face, reaching over for the cup of hot chocolate left on the table, with heizou mimicking you and reaching for his own.

"but seriously, i do wish we could do this more often too." you whispered, leaning back on his shoulder as heizou nodded. "and i promise you, we'll do this as much as we want soon enough." he smiled, both for you and himself.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤwanderer !ㅤ

he's never felt the cold before, nor has he ever felt the warmth. he can't, really.

but he can at least imagine what it feels like. and this, the way your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck with your arms around his shoulders, breathes tickling his skin. this is what he imagines warmth to feel like.

he felt everytime you blew the cup of warm milk in your hands before taking a sip, while he instead would drink straight up while it was steaming. as a matter of fact, this is what he hopes warmth feels like.

"kuni, you seem lost in thought again." you shifted back, looking at him with a concerned hint in your eyes. he shook his head, mustering the most genuine smile he can. "i am, but don't worry, they're not bad thoughts." you nodded, "if you say so."

his gaze shifts around the room, then back to you. "can i . . can i ask you something ?" he hesitated, but relaxed when you hummed so patiently. "this, like this," he set his cup down on the table next to the two of you and pulled you closer by the waist, "is this what warmth should feel like ?" he looks up at you, looking for every hint he may find, the way your face heated up, is that warmth too ?

"well, warmth can be felt in many ways," you tried to explain, with kuni nodding on, listening. "but this is one of my favorite ways to feel it." he blinked, "so, yes ?" "yeah, yes." . . .

"then, this is my favorite warmth too."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ© amaiaqt, 2023 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤdo not plagiarize !

[harrystylesfan2686]

Pieces Part 4

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Meeting new people

A/N: hehehe. (Unedited again sorry!)

Pieces Masterlist

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"Boo! Next!" Mor boos on my yellow dress and Feyre's face screams 'not good'. I groan out and go back to my stall, closing the certain and taking off the dress.

My friends forcefully brought me to a boutique to buy something new, stating that at the occasion on me surviving a whole month alone and not getting fired from the library is an occasion to be celebrated. They're taking me out to Rita's tonight and want me to wear something 'nice'. Despite my whines of not needing a new outfit, they picked out a bunch of dresses for me to try and show them for they're approval.

I wear the pink princess cut dress next and get out to show them. They make a face and Feyre comments,"too formal." I sigh and get back in.

"You know I feel like Rhys has been too tired lately." Mor says, probably to Feyre from outside the stall as I try to tie the threads on the back of my next dress. "Yes, he has been. He also stays in his office so much lately because he's trying to do all the work alone." Feyre responds.

"Oh why is that?" Mor again asks. "You know because he's given Azriel a leave." My ears perk up at the name. "Oh yes! I met with Az earlier this week actually, to coax him into coming to eat with us but he only opened the door for one minute and slamed it again after saying no to my face. Gods he looked so thin." I freeze. "And the bags under his eyes! I am so worried about him. I fear he'll rot himself in that very room."

They probably didn't wanted me to hear but I did. I imagine him with dark circles around his eyes, sucked in body and covered in shadows. With his head, stting on the floor, silently as his shadows hide him from the world. I can imagine the scene perfectly, having found him like that in our house many times. I frown at the though of my husband being depressed.

I shake the thought out of my mind and focus on properly wearing my dress.

I smooth out the creases of my dress and stand still in the mirror. Looking at myself, trying out a burgundy flowy dress, a heart neckline with line stapes, that's tighten around my middle and then let lose until the end. I look beautiful. I smile to myself and turn a bit to see the back, it's perfect.

I yank the certain aside and show my outfit to my apparent judges. They're conversation abrutly stops as they look at me and smile. "Perfect." Mor's grin widens and Feyre nods while giving a thumbs up.

"I think so too." I giggle and look down at myself swaying a little to see my dress move with me. I get into the stall and close the certain again to get out of the dress and buy it.

But I can't stop thinking about what Feyre said though. My imagine of him stays in my mind the whole day, making a sad, knowing how much he's suffering. It's not that he doesn't deserve it but, I mean, he's still my mate. I still love him. How can I not be sad for him?

Maybe it's time I give azriel a chance.

-☆-

"Y/N!" I startle hearing a sudden yell of my name, droping the books I was holding from my hands. I curse under my breath and crouch down to pick it up, someone kneels down in front of me, helping me by collecting the rest of the books.

We both stand up together and as I look up to thank the person, my words die in my mouth seeing a gorgeous male in front of me with emerald green eyes. His chocolate brown hair, wavy shoulder cut length seem a little greasy which juat adds to the handsome look.

"Here you go." My eyes widen listening to his deep voice and focusing on his dashing smile. My hands blinding taking the books from his and our fingers graze each other. My eyes snap to his hands, taking in the large fingers, following up to the veiny arms and big muscles.

I breath out.

"Thank you." I finally manage to say. His smile widens. He nods and steps back, turning around and disappearing behind the aisle. I find myself hoping to see him again when a tap to my shoulder brings me back to earth.

I turn around and let out a small shriek, stepping back when seeing Layla's face too close to mine. "What are you doing?!" I manage not to let the books fall again.

"What are you doing? We have to get back to work, there are a lot of customers today and I do not want to mess up when Hilda left me in charge. Now get back to work!" She turns around and goes back to the counter. I pout at her yelling, I can't blame her though, there truly are a lot of customers today. I should probably listen to her and try not to add on her stress.

I sigh and get back to work.

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Tag list: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @crazylokonugget @going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @wallacewillow0773638 @cat-or-kitten @pricklepearbloom @peachcontour-blog @bxm-1012 @fxckmiup @ohthemisssery

[dellalalakang]

yjw: up first

masterlist | main masterlist

jungwon slowly discovers the pleasures that come with having a partner

contains: what they're doing is sfw! but it contains some spicy talk and some racy action. i guess it's 15+ 

oh hey guys.. what's up?

yjw

For the whole two years I (well, we) spent with Della, I have never once had any sexual thoughts about her. Not even when I heard the hyungs and her go at it like animals in heat.

I know Sunoo did, which is why he went ahead and did stuff after he turned twenty. We made a pact to not lose our virginity before everyone's an adult, and he took full advantage of the loopholes.

Though I don't blame him anymore, because I get it now.

I don't know what it is but a switch turned on. Everything seems different when you're twenty. Especially everything Della does.

"Kiss here?" Della pointed at the side of my neck. This is our first comeback since I turned into an adult, and they want kiss marks on our necks (excluding Niki). Incredibly suggestive and sexy. 

We were initially really against this, but turns out Della would be the one to leave the print, so I guess it's totally fine in the end.

But I'm up first and I've never had my neck kissed. I don't know why I'm so nervous. It's probably similar to a normal kiss, right? 

Right?

"Yup, just there," the creative director nodded. "Maybe have it slightly askew."

"Okay, understood," Della nodded, putting on a burgundy lipstick as the cameraman for our photoshoot sketch recorded her. The rest of the members were all watching from afar, trying to be subtle with how excited they are for their turn. "Ready, Wonie?"

"Mm," I stretched out my neck for easier access. "Della is gonna make a kiss print on my neck," I explained to the camera.

"We're all friends here," Della clarified. "This is just bros being bros," she said in English.

Yeah right, like Engenes (or anyone) is gonna believe that.

"It's just a print," I added, immediately holding my breath when Della's head moved close.

When it happened...

Yeah the kiss itself barely felt like much, probably because it was so short. 

Though as someone who doesn't understand what being ticklish is like, her breath on my neck left a weird sensation. I couldn't decide if I actually enjoyed it since it ended so quick. 

But I wanted more, I needed more.

"Like this?" Della asked the creative director.

"Uhh..." he stepped back and thought of it for a second. "It might be too sexy actually. It's a little too... suggestive– too grown up" he tilted his head. "Will buttoning up his shirt help? Jungwon, can you button your shirt?" from the corner of my eye, I could see the hyungs now openly staring at us.

"I think we have to discard the kiss idea and just switch to vampire bites," the creative director said. "Unbutton them to how it was before and I'll inform the makeup team of the change," damn, I hope the hyungs can control their expressions when the news gets delivered. "Please scrap this from the video," he informed the cameraman before walking away.

"I'll get going now," Della bowed her head and left to join the others.

"What happened?" I caught Sunghoon asking the girl. 

"The kiss thing is scrapped. We're getting vampire bites instead," immediately after, a chorus of 'ahh...'s were heard.

I barely managed to hold in a scoff. It's just one tiny neck kiss, what's the big deal?

If it's just one tiny neck kiss, then why are you wanting more?

Maybe it's good that I was up first.

"Hyung," I approached Jay as he was cooking. Deja vu. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?" I looked around to make sure no one was hearing.

"Is sex... that good?" what the actual heck, Yang Jungwon. That was not the question I wanted to ask. "I mean! Not sex! But like– l-like.. is there a reason why the hyuppas are so... horny..?" he let out a laugh and ruffled my hair before answering.

"What's got you thinking about this? Are you having dirty thoughts of Della?" I started to play with the sleeves of my shirt.

"The photoshoot yesterday was just... I don't know... Her breath on my neck like that... It just got me thinking," I shook my head. What is up with me. "Like you were all really looking forward to it and I wondered exactly why and figured it had something to do with... sex I guess?"

For God's sake, Jungwon. Do you know how ridiculous you sound? Your girlfriend left a PECK on your neck and now you're seeking advice from your experienced hyung.. again.

"Ahh, well I think that the intimacy of sex is like no other. The pleasure's great and all, it's basically like jerking off but better," he explained everything without halting his cooking. "The intimacy is what's amazing really. You know how good you feel when you make out Della? It's just that but tenfold."

That's... it? I expected him to go on and on about how life changing it is.

"Honestly I'm the wrong person to ask because I'm not as horny as the other three, but!" he stopped a bit to look at me. "I can tell you that you should start off slow. Based on your question, it seems like you've never even experienced neck kisses, and that is almost entirely innocent. You can just start off with that."

"I know that! I'm not gonna get into it and immediately ask for a..." I didn't know what the word was so I just mimed myself pumping an imaginary penis.

"A handjob?" ahh, that's what it's called.

"Mm! Anyway, I was just mostly curious as to why you guys are always getting at it," he raised his hands in defense after my point.

"Eyy, you should ask Della why her libido's so high too! It takes two to tango, you know– well... at least two in our case," ...gross. "–and for the record, the reason why we were bummed about the photoshoot's kiss cancellation was entirely out of possessive reasons like we just wanted to show off how we're Della's."

Well in that case, I'm glad that I went up first for the shoot.

'Just take things slow, Wonie,' Jay's advise was in mind as I approached Della's room. 'Start with neck kisses.'

Should I approach Della and be blunt about this? Should I just pretend like I'm going with the flow and vibe of everything? I usually go with the former but it's also usually never something racy.

I have to admit that I'm a bit envious of how her relationship with the other members have progressed. Our first kiss took place five months into our relationship, and it was only about a year later that we began to include tongue. We're progressing so slowly that even Niki is moving faster. Way faster.

I think I had this preconceived notion that things like french and neck kisses were sexual acts, and I learned very late that it isn't (always) true. Jay said that it doesn't have to be if they're gentle and doesn't contain any provocative intentions.

Well... what should I do? Do I have provocative intentions?

Am I thinking about this too much? Should I just ask her like normal? Is it too weird though? What if she thinks I'm lame? Does she already think that way becau–

My anxious thoughts were cut short when the door suddenly opened to reveal the devil herself.

"Jesus! 깜짝이야!" Della jumped and placed a hand on her heart. [kkamjjakiya = i'm sure you all know what it means because of jake]

"Sorry! Sorry!" I held my hands up in front of me. "I didn't mean to surprise you, I was gonna knock!"

"No, no, it's fine," she leaned against the door and let out a breath. "What's up?"

"Were you planning on doing something?" please say no, please say no.

"Just wanted to get some strawberry milk, but that's it," oh thank God.

"Can I come in and just chill? I miss you," she let out a smile before coming close to give me a peck.

"Of course, Wonie. I'll be quick," is it just me or does she want me in a different way? Her eyes are looking a little different.

Damn, I guess Sunoo wasn't kidding when he said that everyone has a bit of delusion mixed in them.

As I was left alone for two minutes, I came to a quick conclusion that I should.. start it off? Maybe I should kiss her neck first.

"You're in the mood to cuddle, darling?" Della took a long sip from her drink and joined me on the bed.

"Mmm," I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around her.

"Do you wanna watch something?" I can feel her gaze on my face as her fingers played with the hair by my nape.

"No," I opened my eyes to stare into hers. "I wanna kiss you though," was that too blunt?

"Eh? Do you wanna try something?" darn... she knows me too well.

Your cover's blown, Wonie. Just come clean.

...nah, I'm just gonna kiss her.

I didn't answer her question and just connected our lips together. Her mouth tasted of the strawberry milk she just drank, and her lips were a bit slick from her lip oil. 

But yet again, the kiss is going slow like it always is. It's usually how I like it but I'm over it now. I want more.

So I decided to take charge.

I gently pushed her on her back and got on top of her, deepening the kiss and adding tongue. I could feel Della hold her breath for a bit, possibly taken aback from the shift.

This is also a first for us. The only time we've ever hovered the other was for performances.

My hands went from her waist to the sides of her face, really getting into the kiss. She hummed and brought one of her hands to my cheek while the other kept their grip on my hair.

Here goes nothing.

I slowly pulled away and immediately started pressing kisses down to her neck.

From what I've observed (mostly from Heeseung), I'm pretty sure that her 'sweet spot' is located under her right jaw. Otherwise why else would they constantly target the same spot over and over again.

I'm not really sure what makes this spot so sweet and I'm also unsure why everyone's is different. I'm guessing it means the person's ultimate pleasure point.

When I reached it, I started to just gave out small pecks which eventually turned to normal kisses.

I could feel that the vibe was a bit awkward based on how tense Della was. It was as if she didn't want me to kiss her neck.

"Wonie– darling," she pat my shoulder. "Give me a second," but before I could fully pull away, Della had already used her strength to flip us over so she was on top. "Lemme try first," and then she attached her lips to my neck, just like that.

She started leaving open kisses from my Adam's apple and slowly travelling towards the right side of my neck. I didn't realise that I was holding my breath until I breathed out when she reached a certain spot.

Again, I'm not a ticklish person by any means but I'm guessing that this is what it feels like.

But it feels amazing. It's what I imagined having your neck scratched as a cat would be like.

It's really, really nice.

Without even realising it, my throat let out a small moan while my body just stayed frozen in place, unable to fully comprehend what was happening.

She relaxed her posture and focused on that one spot, tilting her head to kiss deeper.

I began to let out soft moans after moans as her tongue swirled around the skin. 

"A–ah!" I hissed when she started sucking lightly. "Lala," I start to notice my stiff hands and brought one up to her hair.

"Do you like that, Wonie?" she whispered against my skin. Fuck me.

"Yeah," I breathed out, caressing her hair gently.

"Was this what you wanted to try out?" she giggled in between her kisses. I felt her mouth and tongue circling their way around the area. She wasn't in the exact same spot as earlier but the ticklish feeling was still there.

"Mm," I held my breath as she began to suck some more. I heard her let out a low chuckle.

"Cute," no fucking way.

I immediately placed my hands on her back to turn us over again. Her lips automatically detached themselves from my neck and the surprise was clear in her eyes. Especially when I pinned her hands beside her head like they do in the dramas.

"I'm not cute," I pretty much mumbled. 

I caught a glimpse of myself on Della's mirror and quickly did a double take at the sight.

"Oh my God," I whispered in English, stretching my neck to get a clearer look at the marks she left. This actually happened and is actually happening.

"They'll fade away in half an hour or something. I didn't suck too hard," Della bit her lip.

"Thirty minutes, huh?" I looked to the mirror again. "Now that you've taught me, I guess I can suck a bit harder," I turned back and stared into her eyes.

"Gotta make sure the members know what happened."

I'm really glad I was up first for the shoot.

please i hope my creativity is back and is willing to stay

bonus scene in my first acc!

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @lalalalawon @clar-iii @deafeningballoonpeach

[squatch-and-stretch]

Reunion V1

Ford Pines & Stan Pines & Fiddleford McGucket | 829 words | Mystery Trio Through the Multiverse AU

A scrapped draft of Stanley and Stanford’s reunion with Fiddleford in the multiverse.

The first chapter of the actual fic available here!

“Ge’down!” a voice shouts, and the sound of a human other than him or his brother is so shocking that he can’t even try to recognize it.

It stuns him so badly that he doesn’t even register the command, not until Stanley is grabbing him by the back of the coat and pulling him down. On instinct, he rolls onto his back to face the threat, and his eyes land on the massive slithering beast just in time to see something— some sort of squat tube with loose wires and four sharp metal legs— latch onto it. It doesn’t flinch even as those legs dig in and hold on tight, its head twisting a full 180 degrees so its blind, gaping maw can shoot out towards them. Faintly, inexplicably, he hears a sharp series of beeps and then—

Stanley shouts out a curse, grabbing Ford by the shoulder and turning him back towards the cave floor, one arm thrown over the back of his head, hand covering his ear. Ford means to shake him off, but before he can—

BOOM.

Even with Stanley’s hand covering one ear and the other buried in his brother’s armpit— gross, he notes distantly— the sound is nearly deafening. Stanley pulls away with another series of curses, this time under his breath, too soft for Ford to catch.

“C’mon, this way, don’ wanna see what that did to the structure of that there cave!” the voice shouts, or, at least, they say something along those lines. It’s still hard to parse, both physically with his ringing ears and mentally with his mind racing with no known destination.

Stanley doesn’t seem to hear it at all, still kneeling on the cave floor. He lifts a hand to his ear and Ford watches as it comes away wet. As soon as Stanley himself seems to notice, he quickly wipes it on his jacket, letting the fluid blend into his stained burgundy jacket.

It’s up to Ford to grab him this time, pulling him to his feet and towards the entrance of the cave. There's a person— or person-shaped being, perhaps, Ford can’t take anything here for granted— silhouetted against the strange light of this unfamiliar dimension as it filters into the cave. They’re tall and wearing a long, tattered coat, and that’s all Ford can make out at this distance. As cautious as he is of the stranger, he can’t deny the logic of their words.

Once Stanley seems to get the point, he pulls away to stand on his own, wobbling slightly. He shakes his head and shoves his hand into his pocket, doubtlessly retrieving the pair of brass knuckles he has stored away there.

As they approach the stranger, a few more features come into relief; light brown hair pulled back into a messy bun, green-tinted goggles with one cracked lens, a scrap of brown cloth wrapped around their neck and brought up over their nose. The long coat, Ford realizes, is a tattered and stained lab coat.

With a jolt, Ford recognizes the hair color, the lanky build, the anxious hunch…

“Son of a gun,” the not-stranger groans, pulling his scarf down to reveal a familiar soft jawline and tight frown.

“Fiddleford,” Ford breathes, hardly believing his eyes. He wants to run up to his partner, pull him into a hug and celebrate the fact that he’s alive, it worked, Ford made it in time, but even Ford can read the way Fiddleford’s tense posture only tightens at the sight of him.

“Stanford,” Fiddleford says in response, “What in tarnation are you doin’ here? And who…”

Fiddleford’s eyes land on Stanley, brows furrowing for just a moment before his eyes widen.

“Stanley,” he concludes. “Hell of a way to mend bridges with your estranged twin brother.”

“I wouldn’t really say those bridges have been mended,” Ford mumbles, and surprisingly, Stanley doesn’t respond.

He hasn’t said anything, actually, in quite some time. He’s still staring at Fiddleford, posture defensive, eyes wary but distant, somehow. Some sort of cloudy liquid has gathered in the low notch of his ear, a few drops making their way down his jaw. As if noticing at the same time as Ford, Stan huffs and tilts his head, lifting a shoulder to wipe the liquid away. His breath hitches as if the movement pains him.

For all his staring, Stanley doesn’t seem to notice. He squeezes his eyes shut for a long moment before opening them again.

“Stanley?” Ford asks, completely distracted by his strange behavior. Stanley doesn’t respond, still watching Fiddleford warily.

“What do you want?” Stanley says, far more loudly than necessary, glaring at Fiddleford.

Fiddleford, for his part, just stares at Stanley in the same way he used to look over Ford’s less-than-legible notes and equations.

“Shoot,” Fiddleford mumbles, lifting a hand to his own ear. “Done ruptured his eardrum, I reckon.”

“I’m fine,” Stanley grumbles, moving to mirror the motion before just letting his arm drop.

[trashland-llamas]

Leakage

Written as a part of the @extremetimedchallengeexchange 2024; Prompt was - Jason Todd (transgender, closeted) at a gala, bleeding thru his pants: i. uh. got stabbed?

Can also be found on AO3

[. . .]

Jason had decided to attend another one of Bruce’s splendid galas. Dressed in a burgundy dress shirt paired with a white pantsuit. Aware that it was risky with how irregular his period had become once starting testosterone.

But Dick had convinced him to match with the other robins, all wearing their signature color. Which was then further accented by the white.

Plus Jason didn’t really have any excuse, having kept his transition a secret since his adoption. Easier said than done when you live with the world’s best detectives.

So Jason bit his tongue and hid his misery behind a well placed smirk. ‘You’re not actually enjoying yourself are you?’ A green cane hit his foot. Stopping himself from snapping at the cane’s owner.

‘Is that so bad Damian?’ Jason turned around, noting how he had slicked back his hair for the event. ‘Oh, sorry that seeing you so sour-pussed all the time makes it disconcerting to see you happy,’ Damian quipped. To spite him, Jason flashed him a disingenuous smile. Fully exposing his teeth to the younger.

A hand clutched his lower stomach as he felt a sudden cramp. Not thinking much, that there’d only be some slight spotting in his boxers.

The duo’s conversation interrupted by a dutiful benefactor. Reminding Jason of the whole purpose behind these galas. To maintain the front that is Bruce Wayne as a public persona but to also show their gratitude as a family to the charities’ donors.

Disembarking, they start to make the rounds. Jason relied on his memorized script, personalized with a little improv. ‘It was nice seeing you again.’ Jason says to the ninth person whose name he doesn’t remember but vaguely knows their face.

Everything’s going smoothly until a guest shrieks in horror, confusing Jason. Until he looks down and sees the sea of red staining his pants. He’s hyperventilating when a warm hand grabs his wrist.

Meeting the bloodshot blue eyes of Tim Drake. ‘Are you injured?’ Is the first thing Tim asks, undoing Jason’s collar. ‘Uh, I was…stabbed?’ The uncertainty tells Tim that he’s lying. Not that it was anywhere close to a successful lie.

The air tense as Jason was still shaking like a leaf. ‘Please, Jay. Please let me help you,’ Tim pleads. Unable to piece together enough information to figure it out himself. Not wanting to invade Jason’s personal space anymore than he already was.

‘I’m on my period,’ comes his uncharacteristically meek answer. ‘I’m trans, been transitioning since before we met.’ Hearing a soft ‘oh,’ Jason chances a glance at his younger brother. ‘I haven’t had a period in years except for some spotting here and there.’

‘Why did you come to the gala if you weren’t feeling well?’ Tim had seen Jason suffer through the pain as often as he had seen him ditch a gala. ‘I didn’t know until sometime during. Thought I could make it through the night.’

‘Got any safe houses nearby?’ Tim decides to get him out of here, texting Damian a bullshit excuse as to why they left. Trusting him and Dick to be handle it. ‘Yea,’ Jason taps the directions into Tim’s phone.

Tim awkwardly watches from the doorframe as Jason rummages around. Chucking the pants in the trash, too exhausted to soak them in cold water. Then grabbing a pad, pair of boxer and some comfy clothes. ‘You can come in if you want.’ He calls to Tim before running off to the adjacent bathroom.

‘Anything I can do, Jay?’ Tim pipes up. ‘Uh, can you grab the electric blanket? Should be in the dresser, bottom drawer.’ Following his instructions, Jason exited. Sat under the covers, he guided Tim in placing it on his lower stomach.

‘Do you want me to stay?’ Jason nods at his question, laying his head on Tim’s shoulder. The duo quickly fell asleep, oblivious of the Wayne driving his way over.

[strangersteddierthings]

Writing Prompt from this list requested by @tayloreever

#23. "Just pretend to be my date." and #60. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me." Set in a world where homophobia doesn't exist because that fits my vision better.

-

This is stupid. This is stupid and he shouldn’t have agreed. He looks stupid.

Eddie’s caught sight of himself in the tall, perfectly clean windows of the Chicago penthouse Steve lives in (fuckin’ trust fund kid that Steve is, having a fucking penthouse for himself). Eddie’s got his hair pulled back into a low ponytail and he’d used hairspray to try to tame his wild curls into something half presentable, but the cheap hairspray hadn’t held up on his way here (three separate buses he’d had to take and it was fuckin’ windy) and he could see it starting to look fuzzy again. The black suit he’s wearing has been perfectly tailored for him but he feels like a pretender in it He doesn’t even remember the last time he’s worn a shirt with buttons, much less the last him he’s had them all buttoned and a tie on. Stupid.

He feels like some chump playing dress up.

Eddie is good at forgetting that Steve comes from money. It helps that usually they’re hanging out at Eddie’s trailer, Robin’s apartment, roaming the Chicago streets, or cafes and bars. Plus, Steve doesn’t act like a spoiled trust fund kid (most of the time).

Doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t have agreed to this when Steve had asked him, weeks ago now, in Robin’s apartment kitchen.

“A date!” Steve had shouted. He looked a little manic. Eddie heard as Robin had cackled from the living room. “Oh. Sorry. Shouldn’t have just yelled that at you. I’m a little worked up.”

“Why do you need me to get you a date?” Eddie was confused.

“No, not get me a date. Be my date. To the charity event!”

“What,” Eddie said. Because since when does Steve want to go on a date with him? Eddie really shouldn’t be questioning it because it’s the only things he’s wanted for months now.

“Can you just pretend to be my date,” Steve said a little bitchily as he’d put his hands on his hips, “for one night?”

Oh. Pretend date. For one night. That… yeah, that checks out. Makes more sense in Eddie’s head than Steve actually wanting him the same way he wants Steve.

“Eddie, yes or no?” Steve said.

“Alright, alright,” Eddie had thrown his hands up in defense, “One night! Jesus.”

He should have said no. Steve’s going take one look at him and laugh up a storm at how stupid he looks.

“Eddie!” Steve’s voice startles him and he jumps a little, turning quickly from where he’d been staring at his own reflection to see Steve enter his living room. Steve looks downright sinful, all dressed to the nines in a burgundy suit. Even the fucking loafer’s Steve is wearing are the same shade of burgundy at the suit. His hair is styled perfectly, not a hair out of place. Makes Eddie want to reach out and ruffle it just to get a reaction, while simultaneously wanting to smooth down is own hair, which he knows looks pathetic. “I-thanks. I wasn’t sure if you’d actually, y’know, follow through.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I said I would and I’m a man of my word,” Eddie aims for sounding casual, like he’s not currently stressed and spiraling.

“Yeah, of course man. I know that,” Steve says, “guess you wouldn’t sit through three separating tailoring sessions to not wear the suit.”

“Exactly. Plus, like, now I got something to wear to weddings and shit, if our friends ever get their shit together and someone proposes,” Eddie spreads his arms, “so, how do I look?”

Steve looks him up and down, eyes moving slowly as he seems to be taking every detail of Eddie’s look. The longer it takes him to speak, the more Eddie’s certain that he does in fact look stupid. “You look fine, Eds. What’d you do to your hair?”

Eddie’s stomach drops. He fucking knew it. He looks like some idiot pretending to play at high class. Eddie knows better. He’ll never be anything more than trailer park trash and no shiny new suit could make him look any different. “Nothing. Don’t we have to be going?”

-

Eddie should have said no because this is goddman torture. Steve is a prefect date. He holds doors open, introduces Eddie (with enthusiasm) to everyone that comes up to them, gets him drinks and snacks, seems to keep one hand on the small of his back the whole night, grounding Eddie.

He talks up Corroded Coffin as if they’re a legitimate up and coming band and not some garage band that plays in sleezy bars every few months. Parades Eddie around like he’s a catch and everyone should be jealous that their date isn’t Eddie. Every twenty to thirty minutes he’s using that hand on his lower back to guide him outside, to the must more deserted courtyard, like he knows Eddie is overwhelmed and needs a break.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me,” Eddie says the next time they walk away from some random couple they’d gotten roped into talking too, because Steve had slid the hand on his back to be fully around his waist and his nuzzled the side of his face when the lady had said they made a cute couple and if Eddie doesn’t make a joke of this he will explode.

 “Is it working?”

Eddie has to laugh at him to keep from giving himself away.

So, all in all, it's fucking awful. If Steve could have at least been a bad date, flirted with the single ladies they talk to in front of Eddie or something, this might be bearable. Eddie doesn’t know if he can survive a night of having Steve dote on him, all lovingly and shit, and it not actually be because they’re in love.

Eddie’s trying his best to keep it together, really, but then Steve’s parents, the hosts of this event, finally get the time to get away from the other Elites and come talk to him and Steve.

“So, you must be Eddie!” Mrs. Harrington coos, immediately stepping into Eddie’s space and giving him a kiss on the cheek, the exact same she’d done with Steve when they approached. “We’ve heard so much about you!”

“Y-you have?” Eddie can’t keep the surprise off his face or out of his voice.

“Of course,” Mrs. Harrington laughs. “You’re all we hear about these days. Have been the main topic of Steve’s calls for years now.”

“Mom!” Steve hisses, embarrassed no doubt by the assumptions his mother is making.

“She’s right, Steve-o,” Mr. Harrington says, patting Steve on the back like he’s sympathetic to his wife’s antics. “We haven’t heard this much about a person since you dated that girl in high school. What was her name? Natalie?”

“Nancy, honey,” Mrs. Harrington helpful supplies, “Nancy Wheeler. Oh, I wonder how she’s doing these days. Do you keep in touch, Stevie-Bee?”

“Stevie-Bee?” Eddie is delighted to repeat because he is going to call Steve that forever now.

“Mom!” Steve hisses again, “I am twenty-six years old. I think you can stop calling me that. Especially in public!”

“Oh, but you’ll always be my little Stevie-Bee, buzzing around so fast.”

It takes all of Eddie’s willpower to not snort a laugh. Holy shit. Steve’s parents are embarrassing and this is the best thing that could have possibly happened to him.

“So, Eddie, Steve says you’re a musician,” Mr. Harrington seem to take pity on Steve, switching attention to Eddie, “in a rock band. Says your amazing but haven’t been signed yet.”

“Oh, uh, no. No, not signed… yet,” Eddie adds the yet as an afterthought, because he’s certain they’ll never get signed for real, but he’s not going to admit that to the Harringtons.

“Shame, shame,” Mr. Harrington frowns, “I tried to get Steve to send me a demo of your music but he refused. Said you wanted to make it on your own, not be ‘bought by the industry’. But if you ever want a leg in, I do know a few producers looking for new talent. I promise I won’t talk you up. Just hand them the tape and let them decide if they like you.”

Eddie feels a bit lightheaded. What is happening? Because it’s true. Eddie had said they wanted to make it on their own, had kind of yelled it at Steve when Steve had offered to use his semi-famous status to get them gigs in better places. Eddie hadn’t wanted his charity, because that’s what he felt like it would have been, when Steve offered that years ago. But Steve talks to his dad about his band. Steve knows how important it is for him to not just pay his way to the top. This is too much. This tie is too tight, and this shirt is buttoned too high for him to catch his breath.

Steve’s hand is on his lower back, leading him away, calling over his shoulder to his parents, “we’ve got to go over there now, thanks, bye!”

Eddie hears Mrs. Harrington laugh like Steve’s told a hilarious joke but it fades quickly as Steve basically runs him back through the gala and up the stairs, to the private bathroom that was reserved for, apparently, only the Harringtons.

Honestly, Eddie’s calmed down by the time they reach the stairs but he lets Steve lead him all the way to the bathroom. They stand in front of the counter, blocking access to the sinks. Not that it would matter, because no one else is in here.

“Sorry, for them,” Steve immediately apologizes for his parents, “they mean well, but they’re… a lot.”

Eddie doesn’t respond right away because his brain is still processing. Steve talks about him to his parents. “You told your dad about my band?”

Steve won’t meet his eyes. “Umm, yeah. He doesn’t look like it, but my dad’s a Black Sabbath fan. And you said that was like, one of your inspiration bands when starting Corroded Coffin so…”

That pulls a laugh from Eddie, high pitched and awkward because Mr. Harrington is a white collar worker, who wears three piece suits and has his hair cut close to his head, and the thought of him head banging in his car on his drive to work enters Eddie’s mind against his volition and he must laugh at the image it conjures. “Holy. Shit. Stevie-bee.”

“Do not-“

“Your parents are so embarrassing. No wonder you needed me to be your date. Holy shit. Just imagine if you’d brought a real date. They’d have run away so fast!”

“Yeah, well, thanks for not running.”

“I’m trying to blend in. Running would be too much of a spectacle.”

“Blend in? Is that why you did that?” Steve gestures to his hair and Eddie feels his face heat up. “and why you pick just a regular black suit?”

“You said black tie event. Of course, I picked black. And what’s wrong with my hair?” Eddie turns his head to look in the mirror before looking back to Steve.

“Nothing’s wrong with it, Eds. It’s just not… you.”

Of course, it’s not, Eddie thinks. He’d been thinking that the whole way to Steve’s penthouse. The double takes people on the bus had given him had told him he’d looked ridiculous. He’d thought that when he saw his reflection in Steve’s windows. “I know! This isn’t me.” He gestures to all of himself.

Steve tilts his head slightly, looking Eddie up and down again. Instead of speaking he steps into Eddie’s forward and starts yanking at his tie. Eddie’s frozen because Steve’s so close and he looks so determined suddenly and Eddie wants to see where this is going. Steve throws the tie on the ground before going for the buttons on Eddie’s shirt. He undoes the top three, then moves to his suit jacket and undoes all of them.

Then, Steve steps closer, into Eddie space, reaching up behind his head to remove his hair tie. Steve pulls his hair a few times during the attempt, but he doesn’t stop Steve. Once his hair is free, Steve flings the hair tie over his shoulder and runs his hands through Eddie’s hair, shaking it out and pulling it forward.

“There. Better.”

Eddie turns to the mirror and is disappointed. Steve said better and Eddie had been expecting better. But it’s just him. His hair looks like it does every day, wild and frizzy and everywhere. “Better? This is how I always look.”

“I like how you always look, Eds,” Steve says, quiet and serious. In the mirror, he watches Steve’s reflection stare at the side of his head. “I think you’re beautiful.”

Eddie gives himself whiplash turning to look at Steve. “What.”

Steve shakes his head, a self-deprecating laugh coming from his lips. “Come on, Eds, like you didn’t know.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie argues because it’s true. He’s got know clue.

“Look, if this is gonna make it harder for you to pretend to be my date, we can go. I don’t want this to be awkward. I just wanted…”

“Steve. Stevie,” Eddie feels a little bit like he’s on fire. “I am going to need us to talk right now because I’ve spent this whole night thinking I looked stupid and you tell me I’m beautiful and that’s-“

“Stupid!?” Steve says, indignant, “never! You just looked so uncomfortable and-“

“No, I was still talking!” Eddie shouts, “I’ve spent this whole night wishing you were a terrible date because then I could go home and forget about this but instead you’re a perfect date and you think I’m beautiful and you talk to your parents about me and I really, really want to kiss you.”

Steve takes his face in his hands and then Eddie is being kissed. Holy shit. It’s the best kiss of Eddie’s life. When they separate to catch their breath, Steve blurts out, “I told my parents we were dating. Months ago. They wouldn’t stop asking and mom can always tell when I have a crush and I just panicked and told her we were together and she said we had to come to this event so she could meet you because this was the soonest they could get to Chicago.”

Eddie’s lightheaded all over again. There is a lot to unpack in Steve’s word vomit but that can be a later problem. Instead, Eddie just pulls him in for another kiss.

Or five.

Who’s keeping track anyway?

[12boogaloo]

Okay, I cant take it anymore. The brain rot is REAL

Been on a writing hiatus since 2019 or 2020 (I honestly don’t remember so don’t @ me)

And what gets me to finally start writing again?

You guessed it ladies, gents, and serpents!

Fucking TROLLS 3

Let’s get this bread or die trying y’all 😈

~•~

So first things first: I didn’t come up with the AU’s I’m using here! They were created by TheMiraculousMat and Keebsification on here and AO3

The AU’s in question are The Eldest and The Youngest and Out The Train Wreck

I just love it when people see John Dory and think “hmmm yes this grown man can fit so much eldest daughter energy in him” cuz SAME

So I thought: what if I just… put em together? OTT! JD and E&Y! JD have a grip on my soul and I’m filling a formal complaint in the form of fanfiction for not just 1, but 2 other pieces of fanfiction!!! Cuz why not

I’m gonna post the notes I’ve had about this idea for the past 2 week, at least the first part.

Well… it’s half notes, half chapter really…

Maybe. MAYBE. I’ll clean it up and post it on AO3. Maybe… probably lets be real

Anyway. Y’all can call me Boog and this is Project: Hyperfixation Won

Actual story name pending…

~•~

Part 1: Author’s Actual Notes because they are a nerd

Got an idea

Gonna scratch the itch

Half brain rot dump and half story here

Combination of the Eldest and Youngest JD and the Train Wreck JD

I also head canon that trolls have tails and claws and fangs

They’re lil creatures

Basically the same stuff happens in TW with the manager and John being Branch’s father.

Branch grows up knowing JD is his dad while everyone else thinks they’re brothers.

He and Luka are dating. He’s basically Branch’s other dad.

Luka gets taken and John thinks he died. He keeps his glove to remember him.

The fight still happens. John still leaves but promises Branch that he’ll come back.

He goes to the Neverglades for the next four years.

When he gets a letter about Rosiepuff and Branch he immediately heads back to the tree to take care of him.

Pretty much all of E&Y happens but with the change of Branch knowing JD is his dad.

Makes the trauma of him leaving worse in a way which adds to the angst of the first parts delicious, but it also makes their bond really solid later on.

John forgot that everyone in the village knew them as brothers until Poppy asks him if John is Branch’s daddy out of the blue. He panics and says “no” on instinct and they both decide to just go with it. Easier than explaining it to everyone.

She still doesn’t know. Nobody does.

John still loses his arm trying to save Creek(nasty ass).

One morbid silver lining John felt was that at least it wasn’t the hand he wore Luka’s glove on. Small miracles. Lol I’m sorry

Branch doesn’t remember Luka anymore, at least not really. He sorta remembers a burgundy haired troll that he thought was important but couldn’t remember anything else about them so he didn’t think too much about it.

John doesn’t really like talking about him and Branch hasn’t ever asked so he doesn’t bring it up.

He starts dating Hickory and he does tell him about Luka. He admits that while he definitely is falling for Hickory, a part of him will always belong to Luka and their relationship will always be really important to him.

Hickory is more than okay with that and even tells him that he would’ve loved to have met the man that made his sweetheart so happy and kept him safe before it was his turn. (John just about cried when he said that same buddy and agreed that they’d probably get along pretty well.)(He shows Hickory pictures of him and Luka one day and they laugh over the fact that John clearly has a type.)(And, based on Hickory’s own light blush, same.)(He immediately said Luka was ‘real cute’ and John still laughs at him for it.)

He also tells him about Bold and how Branch came to be. (Hickory spent solid hours comforting him afterwards and spent an equal amount of time thinking of ways he could get Dickory to help him torture the bastard if he ever saw him.)(He decides in that moment that he’d do anything to protect his boyfriend and his son. Anything.) (He’s also even more grateful to Luka when he hears about how he protected his love the day they met. He really wishes he could thank him…)

Branch makes jokes about not calling Hickory his stepdad till they get married, which makes John flush bright blue. (Hickory just laughs and winks, the traitor.)(Hickory secretly really wants Branch to call him ‘Pops’ and he’s so obvious about it.)(Branch finds it hilarious and doesn’t on purpose. He’d actually love to call him that, he’s just being an ass.)(You’d think he wouldn’t ever want to but no. For some reason, it’s only thinking of Hickory as ‘Papa’ specifically that makes him feel wrong. Like that’s not available to him. I wonder why.)

After saving Floyd, the boys all start spending more time together as a family. Floyd and Clay move into the bunker with John and Branch. Bruce still lives on Vacay Island but he tries to visit at least once a week, even bringing his wife and kids with him if he can.

They still love doing shows together and will do a big one every two weeks at least.

A few months later, they’re getting ready to hangout together after a performance in PopVillage. Hickory isn’t with them, he was actually watching with Tiny in the crowd, so he can’t see them.(Lil dude is really attached to his “Uncle Cowboy” and “Uncle Johnny” it’s adorable.)(And yes Guy is close by, Tiny is still very very grounded.)

Poppy wants to introduce them to a former stage manager that she’s worked with before that had come to see the show from TrollCity. Branch has met him once before and thought the guy was weird and a little creepy but nothing else made him feel suspicious so he kinda just ignored it. He figured if Poppy trusted him, it was fine. (Obviously he still kept an eye on the old bastard, cause your boy isn’t paranoid for nothing. And you never know.)

They all agree to meet and when they get backstage… it’s him.

Bold.

The bros old manager. The man who hurt their eldest unimaginably.

JD basically shuts down as his younger brothers immediately shield him from view.

They need to get out of here without causing a scene. Fast.

“Poppy, I think we need to go…” Floyd mumbles, his usually soft features twisting in both anger and slight fear as he stared the old troll down.

Poppy looks at them in confusion, “Wha- but you guys said you wanted to see everything we set up!!” She looks between the brothers and the older manager, Branch joining her as his eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry, kids, I don’t think we can do that…” Bruce doesn’t take his eyes off of the old man as he steps back, closer to Clay and Floyd who were holding John Dory’s arms and hands to keep him steady in their safety bubble, their tails wrapped around his waist. “Not when he’s here.”

Poppy blinks in confusion. “What do you mean? Have you met Mr. Bold before?” She asks.

The old bastard chuckles. “Don’t worry, Miss Poppy.” Poppy huffs a bit at being called ‘miss’. (She’s Queen, dammit. Only Hickory calls her ‘miss’ and it’s always as a joke.) “I was the boys’ manager back in the day! It’s just been a while since we’ve seen each other.” He looks over each brother, clearly trying to get a look at John Dory and noticeably souring when he’s blocked. Then he smirks, taking a few steps closer, his wooden cane thunking against the floor. John flinches with each tap, tap, tap. “You’ve all grown up so much.”

Bruce holds his ground, crossing his arms and rolling his shoulders, his bigger body blocking most of JD from view. Clay was growling behind him, both him and Floyd curling closer to John and their ears pressed back in irritation. Bruce gives a humorless chuckle. “Heh. Yeah, we’ve grown up, Bold. We grew up and you’re fucking old now.”

Poppy gasps. “B-Bruce, that’s not nice!” She turns to Bold and smiles nervously. “I’m so sorry-“

The man waves her off. “Don’t fret. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it. He’s right after all.” He looks at them again all smugly, leaning on his cane. “Like I said, it’s been a long time.”

Floyd scoffs. “Not long enough.” He growls, baring his teeth. His claws start coming out and he’s thankful he’s holding John’s prosthetic arm as he feels them scratch the metal.

“Woah, okay, what the hell is up with you guys?” Branch finally steps in. That was so unlike Floyd to say something like that. He’s never seen the older troll that angry before, he’s never seen any of his uncles that angry before.

Bruce huffs. “What’s up is that we’re leaving. Now.” He goes to turn around to start steering his brothers out of the room when he hears Bold chuckle, making them all freeze.

“You all really have changed so much,” He says, his tail swaying side-to-side behind him. John looks up and they manage to lock eyes, Bold smiling sickly as John stares in horror. “Especially you, Johnny Baby.”

John feels sick. He feels like he’s gonna pass out. He feels his legs start giving out as Clay and Floyd rush to hold him up. He feels his body going completely limp and his vision blurs and his chest hurts and he can’t breATHE-

Bruce tackles the old troll, immediately landing brutal hits to the bastards face. He screams between punches, “DON’T TALK TO MY BROTHER!” Bold tries to hit him back, only managing to smack Bruce in the side once with his cane before continuing to get pummeled.

Branch and Poppy jump in frantically to pull him off of the man and the three of them stumble back. Bruce shoves them off and glares at Bold again. He was lying on the ground, groaning and clutching his nose, there were scratches and bruises on his face and he was covered in his own glittery copper blood. “Stay. The FUCK. Away. From John.” Bruce pants and shakes out his hands, flexing his exposed claws. He spits on the ground. “Bastard.” He turns back to his brothers. “Cmon, let’s get out of here.” He lifts JD up bridal style and Clay and Floyd follow him as he starts rushing to the door.

“Wait, hold on!” Branch runs after them, leaving Poppy standing in confused horror at what just happened.

~•~

That’s what I’ll give for now lol

I have like wayyy more written out but I’m mean so 😈

Anyway

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

Lmk what y’all think ig

Check out the folks that created these AU’s plz @matmiraculous and Keebsification (idk their tumblr so plz don’t yell at me) both on AO3 where I found them

Later yall

[waywardxwords]

Chapter 2 - Nothing to Lose (Taking Chances)

Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.

Chapter Warnings: None

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Read Chapter 1 - Rules Were Meant for Breaking here!

The wind whipped at the shutters on your two-bedroom home tucked in the suburbs of Richmond, Virginia. It was another quiet night for you. Quiet had become your norm, and you were perfectly content with that. One hand held your cell phone to your ear while the other poured yourself a glass of Merlot. 

“I’m heading to Kansas next week,” you said somewhat nonchalantly into the receiver, but your best friend knew better than that. 

“Oooh,” she cooed. “Are you seeing your flying buddy?” You rolled your eyes. After you had mentioned your encounter that had happened almost a month ago now, she had been relentless. 

“No…I don’t know,” you grumbled. “He has a name, you know.” 

“Oh, I know. The mysterious Dean. I still wish you had gotten a last name. You gotta Google guys nowadays. You tend to find some creepy ass people,” she muttered back. You slipped the cork back into the bottle and carried your glass to the living room. 

“Says the girl who dated a guy with an attempted battery charge,” you scoffed as you plopped down on your couch and pulled your legs up to the side. 

“Listen, Tinder is wild. It’s not my fault he used a fake name,” she tossed back. “And let’s just remember it was a charge and he was never actually convicted.”

“Yeah, let’s not try to justify that one, ‘kay?” You laughed. “I don’t know, I don’t think I’m going to call him. I don’t even know if he wants to hear from me.” You swirled the burgundy liquid around in your wine glass as your mind replayed the night you and Dean spent together. 

“You were pretty clear about what you wanted…or didn’t want, for that matter. At least, from what you told me.” 

Once you and Dean had gotten your room assignments, you agreed to meet in his room after you got settled. A quick glance in the mirror made you grimace—traveling for fifteen hours hadn’t done you any favors. You swiped your index finger under each eye to clean up the smudged mascara before you pulled at the fallen strands of hair to fix your bun. The idea of getting dressed up at this point seemed futile, so you settled on a long sleeve shirt and leggings with sneakers. 

After a quick breath, you grabbed your room key and cell phone and headed down the hall to Dean’s room. Your knuckles tapped against the wood. 

Within a moment, the door swung open revealing your new friend. He had changed into a gray undershirt and sweatpants. 

“Hey,” you breathed with a smile. 

“Hi,” he smiled back. He stepped back and held the door open for you. “Come on in.” 

“Are we passing on the bar adventure?” You raised your eyebrows as you eyed his choice of sweatpants. 

“Oh, you mean you don’t want to be seen with me wearing sweatpants in the bar?” He feigned offense. “And see, I didn’t think you cared about that kinda thing…” before you could say anything, he continued. “Nah, I’ll be honest. I’m pretty exhausted and thought we could just hang out and watch a movie or something.”

“That works, but seriously, if you’re tired I can absolutely entertain myself and get some sleep. We don’t have to hang out,” you were second-guessing everything, and that wasn’t like you. The confidence and self-assurance you had when it came to your work seemed to go out the window when it came to Dean. 

“No way,” he plopped down on the bed and put his feet up as he sat against the headboard. “It’s almost Halloween, how do you feel about some scary classics?” He wiggled his eyebrows, which made you laugh. 

“Sounds good to me,” you walked to the other side of the bed and sat down so you were against the headboard with your legs folded like a pretzel. 

The movie was fun, but you and Dean ended up talking throughout most of it. 

“Okay, so you don’t like planes…anything else you’re afraid of?” You popped a pretzel from the trail mix bag Southwest had provided on your earlier flight into your mouth and handed the bag to Dean. 

“Hm,” he hummed as he rummaged through for a Cheez-It. “Not really. My brother’s afraid of clowns.” 

“Clowns are pretty creepy,” you agreed. Dean rolled his eyes. 

“What about you? What are you afraid of?” The question was harmless, but the answer felt loaded to you. As you processed your thoughts, you hesitated but decided to just go for it. 

“Being alone,” your eyes fell to your lap where you played with a loose string on the comforter. “Sorry, that was deep.” You laughed lightly as you avoided eye contact and wondered if you had gone with something easier; something like snakes or needles. 

“Hey,” Dean’s voice caught your attention. “Don’t be sorry. That’s a valid fear.” You noticed his voice was lower than before. His words were kind, but you still felt like you had made a mistake by opening up that much to him. 

“I appreciate it,” you managed a small smile. 

There was a pause, but you were surprised it wasn’t uncomfortable. Then Dean spoke once more. “In, uh, in the spirit of ‘if you show me yours, I’ll show you mine’,” he cleared his throat. “I’m batshit terrified of being afraid…”

You blinked as you contemplated his words. “You’re…afraid of being afraid?” 

He chuckled and rubbed at the back of his neck as he dropped his gaze to his lap. “Yeah, I know it sounds weird. I guess for me, I always have to be strong and just have my shit together. Which I don’t, by the way.” You watched the side of his face as he spoke, illuminated by the movie playing on the TV on the dresser across from you. “It’s pretty much always been me and Sammy—my brother,” he reminded you. “I don’t really ever show anyone if I’m afraid of something.”

“Everybody gets scared, Dean,” you coaxed as he paused. “Your brother would understand that.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he pondered, his eyebrows knitted together. “I guess so, I just don’t show it.”

Even though it was a simple confession, you felt like you learned a lot about Dean in that moment. 

“You were afraid on the plane, I could tell,” you smirked and pushed your elbow gently into his ribs playfully. 

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and for the first time since he started speaking, his head turned to look at you. His eyes practically studied you but all you felt was his vulnerability. “I know,” he said softly. “That’s the thing, I was able to drop the act in front of you. I just can’t figure out why…”

“Ah,” you smiled. “You broke your own rule. You took your mask off.”

He chuckled again. “I guess I did.” 

You turned back after a moment to look at whatever was happening on the TV in front of you, and that’s when you felt Dean’s palm graze the top of your hand at your side. It wasn’t forceful or pushy, it just felt comforting. You glanced down at your hands and took a breath. 

“Dean, I need to be honest with you,” your words were so soft, you weren’t sure if he heard you. His eyes watched you and he nodded for you to continue. “I’m really, really bad at…this whole thing.” You mumbled. 

“At what, exactly?” He asked for clarification. 

“Men? Affection? I’ve been so focused on my career for so long, I kinda just settled on the fact I’d be alone for the rest of my life. And even though it terrifies me, I’m also kind of content with that? Let’s be honest, you live in Kansas and I live in Virginia. We don’t even know each other, we’re strangers,” you were rambling at this point. 

“I’m not askin’ you to marry me, sweetheart,'' he laughed gently, but also removed his hand from yours.

“No, I know,” you breathed. “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you, seriously. I just don’t see how…” you trailed off as you tried to find your words. 

“I get it, wrong place, wrong time,” he repeated the words from earlier. 

“Something like that,” you sighed. You stared into his green gaze for another moment before you found your voice again. “I should go.” 

Dean nodded once, but you saw the disappointment flash across his features. “I understand.” He swung his legs off of the bed and waited for you to walk you to the door. “Just so you know, I really liked talking with you tonight.” 

“Me too, Dean,” you managed a smile and wondered why you felt sad. You wouldn’t let your feelings deter you. 

“And hey, if you’re ever in Kansas and wanna break any more of those rules…” he reached for a notepad on the table by the door. He scribbled out a number. “Gimme a call.” 

You took the paper willingly and gave him one more gentle smile. “Thanks, Dean.” And against your better judgment, you leaned forward on your tip toes and kissed his stubble covered cheek. “Goodnight.”

You saw Dean on the plane the next morning, but couldn’t be sure if he had seen you. He picked a seat rows ahead of you, and by the time you had gotten off of the plane—he was gone. 

“Can you blame the guy?” Your best friend’s voice interrupted your thoughts. “He bared his soul to you and you bolted.”

“I didn’t bolt because of the conversation! I got scared,” you mumbled. 

“I know, but I also know it’s been a month and you haven’t shut up about him,” she reminded you. “Call. The. Man. Please, if for nothing else, for my sake. I’m sick of hearing you whine.” 

“Ugh, fine,” you grumbled. “I’ll call him.” 

“You better,” she bit back. “If you don’t call him, you’re not allowed to talk about him anymore. Got it?”

A sigh fell from your lips, but you knew she was right. “Deal.” 

“Good, I gotta run. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” and with that, you both hung up. You stared at your phone for a minute. With a quick scroll in your contacts, you found the number you had added after Dean wrote it down on the notepad. Your finger hovered for a moment before you took a leap of faith and pressed his name. 

You pushed the phone to your ear and took a very large sip of your wine with your eyes squeezed shut tightly. Your breath got caught in your throat when you thought he had answered, only to realize it was his voicemail. 

“This is Dean’s other, other cell…so you must know what to do.” And then there was a beep. You quickly hung up the phone. How many cell phones does this guy have? And why…? Maybe your best friend was right—maybe you needed to fully vet this dude before you considered coordinating a meet-up. But before you could think on it any longer, your phone started vibrating against the couch cushion. 

“Hi,” you sighed into the phone as you pinched the bridge of your nose. 

“Uh, hi. Who is this?” His voice sounded gruffer than you remembered. 

“Dean, sorry, I uh, I—this is—” he cut you off before you could say anything else. 

“Oh…uh, everything okay?” He sounded…worried, or concerned, maybe? But you weren’t sure why. And he recognized your voice? There was so much you were confused about but it was overshadowed by the giddiness you felt that he recognized your voice from just a few words. 

“Oh, everything’s fine,” you quickly answered. “I’m sorry to bother you, I just wanted to call to let you know I’m going to be in Kansas next week…” you second-guessed, again, why you had called to begin with. You knew you were sending the man mixed signals, and you didn’t mean to. It was a battle from within that you couldn’t tell if you were losing or winning, at this point. He didn’t speak during your pause, so you continued. “I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have called.”

“No, it’s alright,” he spoke softly. “I just didn’t think I’d hear from you again.” You wanted to kick yourself, but instead you stood to your feet and paced a bit in front of your couch as you gripped the phone to your ear.

“I know,” you sighed. “Moment of honesty without any judgment?” You asked hesitantly.

“Shoot,” by the sound of his voice, you could tell he still wasn’t sure what you wanted or why you had dialed his number. To be fair, you still weren’t sure, either. There was this strange sense of connection you felt with him after only spending a few hours with him. It was something you couldn't shake.

“When I left your hotel room that night,” your feet slowed and you brought your fingers up to fidget with the charm on your necklace. “I kind of panicked. But…” But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, is what you wanted to say. However, you weren’t feeling very brave, so you swerved. “…I just knew you had said if I were ever in Kansas again, to give you a call.” Per usual when the nerves crept up and made you feel like you had made a mistake, your teeth found the inside of your bottom lip and nibbled there self consciously. 

There was a pause that made you question yourself even more than before, if that were possible. “No, I’m glad you called. When are you planning to be in town?” 

Your heart fluttered. Maybe he did want to see you, after all. “Next week, actually. I fly in on Monday afternoon but I don’t have any meetings until Tuesday.” 

“Alright,” there was something to his voice that sounded different than before—there was a hardness there you hadn’t noticed on the plane, or when you spent the evening talking about what you were afraid of and watching classic horror flicks. This Dean felt guarded. “Well, how ‘bout drinks? There’s not much out here, but there’s a dive bar. The Blind Pig, it’s in Salina near the airport.”

“Is that too far for you? Aren’t you in Lebanon?” This version of Dean made you realize you really didn’t know him at all—this was just a man you had met by pure happenstance. You wondered if you should Google him, after all. 

“Ah, it’s alright. I spend ninety percent of my time in my car and I love it,” he answered truthfully. 

Even though your brain was telling you to think twice, something within you urged your mouth to speak anyway. “Alright, then. Is 7 o’clock okay?”

“Seven it is,” he answered, and this time you could tell he had a smile on his face. 

“Okay, great,” you gnawed at your bottom lip as you processed. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you then,” he repeated back. Simple ‘byes’ ended your conversation and you couldn’t help but cringe from the awkwardness as you pulled the phone from your ear. All you could think about was that you hoped you hadn’t made a mistake. 

A/N: I'm so excited to be back! I've spent a lot of time planning this series out, so I hope you enjoy! Thanks so much for reading, please feel free to let me know if you enjoyed it ♥️

Chapters will be posted on Wednesdays and Saturdays!

Preview of the next chapter:

The Blind Pig was a small hole-in-the-wall sports bar, but it sure did have a lot of patrons. Thankfully, your flight had gotten in when it was supposed to without any delays, but that had gotten you settled in your hotel by five o’clock and ready to meet Dean by six. You had pulled out your laptop to try and get some work done, but your eyes kept pulling to the numbers on the nightstand. 

6:02. And then again at 6:04. By 6:07, you couldn’t take it anymore. So you headed the short distance from your hotel to The Blind Pig and settled on a barstool at the bar. 

“What can I get you?” The bartender interrupted your thoughts as he dried his hands on a small dish rag. 

“A Jack and Coke, please,” you answered in an effort to calm your nerves. “And a glass of water,” so hopefully you wouldn’t get too ahead of yourself. 

The bartender nodded and grabbed a glass. Every time the front door opened, you couldn’t help but turn to see if it was Dean walking through the door. But it was still only 6:45, and you knew he had a long drive. 

Just as your drink was set in front of you, you heard him clear his throat behind you. “Hey, Atlanta,” the nickname brought a smile to your lips and a shiver down your spine as you turned towards him.

Read Chapter 3 here!

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[bunkoos-mole-enthusiast]

Weekly Jungkook Fanfic Recs

Some fine JK fics for your reading pleasure. 🔞 Please show your appreciation to all the wonderful authors :)

Sweet Lullabies: You’re crazy in love and for once, so is he. Idol au. https://yeojaa.tumblr.com/post/623051372729925632/masterlist-sweet

Angels & Airwaves: Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he’s never met. Idol au. https://yeojaa.tumblr.com/post/622960748607537154/masterlist-angels

Finders Keep Hers: A drabble about idiots in love. https://yeojaa.tumblr.com/post/622638579073646592/finders-keep-hers

Velveteen Rabbit: What do you get when you mix Thumper and Bambi? Answer: Jeon Jungkook. Hybrid au. https://yeojaa.tumblr.com/post/631595211270848512/velveteen-rabbit

Ode To The Nature Of Romance: As a classical violinist, you understand passion and romance better than most. So why does Poetry professor Jeon Jungkook seem to have such a difficult time getting you to understand? https://yeoldontknow.tumblr.com/post/164102450918/ode-to-the-nature-of-romance

Vaunt: Every weekend Beta Tau throws a ‘little’ party to help students relax and let loose and frat resident Jungkook has a big mouth that talks a lot of big game. You finally get sick of the lack of relaxation on your end and set out to see if he’s all talk. https://archiveofourown.org/works/16120811

In Motion: The rule is simple; you can look but you can't touch. https://yoonia.tumblr.com/post/187973590833/in-motion-index

Darkroom: When you somehow end up in an advanced photography class that you definitely shouldn’t be in, you seek the help of shy nerdy boy Jeon Jungkook to preserve your 4.15 GPA. It isn’t until after you stumble upon him in the darkroom that you realize your cute little nerd is actually a super hot vampire with an icy cold stare and beautiful burgundy eyes. https://yoon-kooks.tumblr.com/post/694245428209893376/darkroom-jjk

Paired And Pierced: When your professor assigns a collaborative midterm project, you’re paired up with Jeon Jungkook, the quiet grumpy smartass who keeps to himself. If you can win him over, he might give you a taste of the tatted and pierced body he’s carefully tucked away beneath those oversized hoodies. https://yoon-kooks.tumblr.com/post/706978132809367552/pp-jjk-masterlist

How Many: To Jeon Jungkook, you’re just the cutie who sits across from him in art class. He doesn’t have a clue that you’re also the hidden face of his favorite tattoo artist on social media. When the bad boy notices you’ve taken a surprising interest in his ink, he dares you to explore every inch of his body until all of his tattoos are accounted for. https://yoon-kooks.tumblr.com/post/675948622879293440/ how-many-jjk

Explorer: Jungkook does not want to impress the frankly tyrannical ways of his planet on you. He just wants to stay here and keep your couch warm for you, hold your hair back when you wash your face in the morning.  https://1kook.tumblr.com/post/630561456866377728/explorer

[yandere-thingss]

yandere tanjiro!

a c.ai for you guys!

He snapped

you've known tanjiro for a while now. However you've never realised until now just how scary he could be

Right now your hiding from him. You just barely escaped. He was sick of it, Sick of people taking you away from him. So he killed them. He killed them all.

You can hear his slow calm footsteps as he walks,bloody katana sheathed

"Oh.. zero I didn't mean to scar you.. please come out. I won't hurt you, I would never do that.. I know your here, please. I can smell you."

a gentle yandere <3

you found him while travelling to your next mission, and you became friends quickly. deciding to travel with each other to do your missions for the demon slayer corps.

you guys are walking and its getting pretty late, your tired but tanjiro seems fine. his endurance is insane.

as you walk he glances over at you and smiles gently

"tired zero?"

"we can rest a bit if you want."

your a demon

you are a demon, you just wander around most of the time. its actually pretty lonely.

since you cant go in the sun your always in the dense forest, the trees block out the sun. but when you where just hanging from a tree because you where bored you herd footsteps, a demon slayer? what are they doing here?

they had burgundy and black hair combed back to expose the scar on their forehead. hes fair skinned with an average build but he looks strong. you should hide. if he sees you he'll probably kill you

but thats too late for you when you step on a stick and it snaps loudly. fuck.

he looks over and sees you, how you dont seem like your going to hurt him.

"hey.. its alright. as long as you dont hurt me i wont try anything" he says gently, as if talking a crying child out of a hiding place