#of course he comes back eventually. but still. most of the fic in mind is the Gothamites being pissed off and sad about their prince | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mournings-stars · 3 months

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adam's wings

this is the adam smut i was talking about... it was originally gonna come after a mini fic but i couldn't figure out how to end the fic so yall can have this smut

all you need to know is adam's had a massive crush on the reader (fem!reader) for like 5+ years and in the last extermination her wings get got (poor you)

I'll publish the fic eventually but enjoy this man being pathetic and a switch (also i hardly write male smut so i hope it's good :))

Life without your wings was something you were just going to have to get used to. It was awful, for the most part, and when it wasn’t it was tolerable. Instead of flying, you and Lute walked in the mornings… you had to use stairs, and you had to ask for help getting things that were too high — of course, Adam liked when you asked him to get things. It boosted his already massive ego now that you were spending more time together.

Instead of a yearly lunch and dinner after extermination with casual work conversation in between, you had lunch once a week and found yourselves talking often.

Like today; you weren’t expecting anyone, but Adam brought it upon himself to come to your apartment. He appeared on your balcony, knocking on the glass doors impatiently until you opened them, confused.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“You could sound a little happier, dude,” he scoffed as he held out a bag. “I brought you food.”

“Sorry knocking at my window freaked me out, dude.” You rolled your eyes as you took the bag. “Are we having lunch together?”

Your excited face made him frown and you quickly understood that no, you were not having lunch because he was always busy doing the job you used to help with.

“Hey, don’t look so down, angel.” He leaned down to kiss your cheek. “If you’re still up, I’ll stop by for dinner.”

“Just wake me up—“

“No can do, sugar tits,” you rolled your eyes at the nickname. “Doc says you still need rest.”

“Ugh! Fuck the doctor!” You tossed the food on your coffee table, making him yell “hey!” “Sorry.”

“I used my piss break to get you that!”

“I said sorry! I’m sorry. Thank you for the food.” He huffed, looking at the discarded bag. “Don’t be a baby.”

“You’ve been in such a fucking mood, babe.” He brought his hands to your hips, pulling you up against him. “What happened? You were doing fine without…” His hands traveled to your lower back, then further up, making you wince. “Have you been resting?”

“Don’t baby me. I don’t need rest — I need my fucking wings back—“

“Sh, sh, sh,” he cooed, head lowering to your neck. “Watch your fucking mouth.” The cool mouth of his mask grazed your skin as his fingers traced down the line of your spine, making you inhale sharply and arch toward him. He took that opportunity to hold you tighter. “I can make you feel better, angel… Do you want me to?” His lips pressed against your neck, much more tender than he would’ve liked, but he didn’t mind having to ease in.

“How much longer is your break?”

“Ended five minutes ago, but who gives a shit?” He laughed as his kisses on your neck became more forceful. “I’ll tell them you needed my help… that you begged me to stay… I’ll say I couldn’t fucking resist you…” He licked a stripe up your neck, making you shudder. “I just had to help… It’s the angelic thing to do—“

“Adam.”

“Yeah, baby?” He was biting down on your neck.

“Bedroom,” was all you had to say for him to suck the darkest fucking hickey onto your skin.

“Fuck yeah, baby!” Before you could turn away from him, he lifted you up and took you to your room, setting you on the bed before you pulled him on top of you. You got his mask off as quickly as possible, accidentally leaving the horns, but you didn't care.

“You look kinda sexy with horns,” you said as you pulled him down and pressed your lips to his.

“Kinda?” He laughed into the kiss.

“Mmm… Really sexy.” He groaned when your hands caressed the horns, gripping them and forcing his head at the angle you wanted. “Yeah. I could get used to this.”

“Don’t get cocky,” he warned, eagerly pushing his hips up against yours and shoving his tongue in your mouth with so much haste you had to pull back.

“I don’t want a quickie today—” you started, speaking against his forceful lips.

“Yeah, sure, angel, whatever you want,” he impatiently got his mouth back on yours, hands pulling you against him harshly.

“Stay with me today… You can work from home, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll come up with something. Just shut up.” But then he paused. “Home?” He asked. “With you?”

It was times like these where you remembered he’d been crushing on you for at least five years. You laughed. “Figure of speech, darling—“

“Oh, right, right.” He was quick to get his mouth back on yours.

“But…” You tried to speak between kisses. “I wouldn’t mind — you — coming home — to me every night — like this—“

“You’re making me hard as fuck. Stop talking.” You did as he asked, but reached your hand down to grope him. Before you could, he grabbed your hand and shook his head. “Not yet,” he said quickly before bringing his mouth back to your neck to suck bruises on to.

But you wanted to touch him, and as your half-lidded eyes looked at what you could touch, your hands reached for his golden wings. Your fingertips stroked the tops of them, feeling just how delicate they were. They were soft, fragile, and utterly beautiful. Your hands traveled down to the base of them, fingers tracing around the feathers with gentle pressure.

Adam froze on top of you, cutting off his kisses with a strained moan as he shuddered, hips jerking and eyes fluttering. “F-ah-fuck, oh my… fuck,” he whined as you continued your gentle touches to his wings. His hands gripped you harder, hard enough to bruise, but you didn’t care when you had his head buried in the crook of your neck as he whined in your ear, hips thrusting up against nothing to try and get some kind of relief. “Baby… your gonna — fuck — you gotta stop — it’s — ah, fuck.” He was trying to push your hips down so he could at least grind against you as you tortured him like this, but he couldn’t pull himself together enough to get it right.

“Shh, baby, I got you… You like that?” He sunk his teeth into your shoulder when you spoke, moaning against you. “Let me help,” you laughed, stopping momentarily to get his and your robes off.

He couldn’t even give you foreplay if he wanted to right now. He just needed to be inside you.

That’s exactly what you let him do. You got both your undergarments off as he lazily kissed your shoulder and reached down, guiding him between your legs. You inhaled, moaning when he pushed his cock inside of you, filling you up and making his hips twitch with how wet and ready you were for him. Your legs went around his waist as he rocked his hips and your hands went back to his back.

As soon as you touched his wings again, his hips were snapping against yours and he was muttering incoherently, “fuck, baby.” “Needa be inside you.” “So good.” “Want you even more.” “Don’t stop.”

When you started whining in his ear as he buried himself inside you just to grind against you, massaging that soft spot just above your cervix and making your cunt tighten around him, he completely lost it. He didn’t hold back on his loud moaning, desperate licking, or harsh biting for anything. He left your neck, shoulders, and collarbones a discolored mess as his hands found your breasts and groped. He pinched your nipples, rolling and twisting harsh enough to get you arching into him, but gentle enough to make sure he didn’t hurt you.

“You’re all mine,” he panted into your neck, kissing up to your cheek in an effort to find your lips. “No one else can have you… You can’t — ah — you can’t let anyone else touch you. I’d have to fucking kill them,” that, he said clear as day, making you moan his name. “No one’s ever gonna hurt my angel again… Never.” Finally, his mouth found yours and his rough kisses had you gasping for breath as if he’d just threatened you and not the entire world outside of this room.

His hips didn’t stop, but the more you felt up his wings, the sloppier he got. “Fuck,” he groaned, voice hoarse. “Need more of you.” He brought one hand by your head, pushing himself up and getting your dangerously pleasuring hands away from his wings as his other hand went between you and pulled your hips up. He pulled his hips back before thrusting into you, making your eyes roll back as you turned to the side to bury your face in your pillow. “There it is.” He held you in place, hitting that same spot with each thrust and making you tighten around him. “That's it… That's my girl.”

You fisted the sheets, moaning loudly into your pillow. Adam grabbed you by the neck, using his fingers to turn your head toward him. “Let me hear you,” he said, voice still whiny from the way you were touching him and making your stomach flutter. “You’ve been feeling me up this whole fucking time, it’s time for my reward, yeah?” You nodded, never breaking eye contact, and he smiled. “Good fucking girl.”

His hand went down to your hips, resting on your lower stomach and pressing down to make you groan. His thumb moved to your clit, pressing down to feel you pulse against him. He laughed. “I knew you fucking needed me. Little attitude’s all fucking gone now, huh?” He circled his thumb, thrusting into you at the same excruciatingly slow pace. “Thought you’d have me like this, didn’t you, angel? All fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck you—“ You whined, trying to sound mad and failing — how he’d completely flipped the situation was beyond you, but you didn’t care when you felt like this. Of course, that wouldn’t stop you from running your mouth. (Or getting him back later).

“Shut up and take it, bitch— oh! Shit, that was kinda mean. Fuck, sorry babe.” He leaned down, kissing you quick and making you laugh as your hands reached up to his face to keep kissing him. “I didn’t mean that.” But when you kept laughing, he quickly told you to, “shut up,” again, then, “you sound really fucking pretty, so don’t actually.”

“Adam,” you warned, hand reaching down toward his wings. “You’re the one that needs to shut up—“

“No fucking way.” He grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, picking his pace back up and making the bed knock against the wall with how rough he was being. “You and your pretty little hands are dangerous, angel… Gotta put you back in your place.” He brought his hand to the back of your thigh, pushing it up by your side to get even deeper.

That and so he could watch your cunt taking him. His gaze alone made your legs shake, your moaning picking back up. He got the hint, pushing himself deeper and grinding against you until you were so tight around him that he could hardly move.

But he did anyway, fucking into you harder and faster as his hands held your squirming hips still. He moaned at the way you tightened around him, your hands pushing at his hips to get him to stop overstimulating you as you came, but that did nothing but turn him on as you moaned his name like a fucking prayer, back arching and hips writhing on the sheets as your hands settled to grip his wrists and your eyes shut in pure bliss.

“Shh, baby, I got you,” he mocked your words from earlier, making your eyes screw shut as you tightened around him again. That made him shudder, his hips twitching as he thrusted sharply, his orgasm filling you up and dripping out of you as his eyes shut and hands moved to grip yours, pinning them to the bed.

He pulled out slowly, watching his cum spill out of you with a cocky smile. “Fuck, you look good like this,” he said, hands squeezing yours. “How’s it feel having the—“

“If you say anything about your ‘first dick,’ I’ll kill you,” you said breathlessly, cutting him off before he could start and making him roll his eyes. “But… it feels really fucking good—“ “That’s my fucking girl!”

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cheolhub · 10 months

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EVENING GLOW — KIM MINGYU ࿐

summary. you’re having a horrible, no good, very bad day and mingyu wants to do everything he can to make it better.

wc. 4.5k+

warnings. hurt/comfort, overthinking, reader goes through it and cries a lot, allusions to having anxiety, smut! soft bf!mingyu, so much praise (it’s insane), pet names (angel, baby, sweet/pretty girl), reader is v needy and sensitive, a lot of reassurance, hand holding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, slight dumbification, creampie, V SOFT, unprotected sex — MINORS DNI 18+

note. because i love keir ( @jeonghantis ) and bc they deserve the world and all of the stars. also it’s really for anyone who’s had way too many bad days in a row <3 u are very loved (by me and ur fave). also, i lost sight of the plot half way thru this (very common reoccurrence in all of my mingyu fics) so i apologize for that hehsh. i appreciate ur feedback! <3 and yes, this is loosely based off evening glow by wave to earth <33333333 + @toruro i also hope u like this hehehe

bad days aren’t uncommon for you, but you’ve had significantly less since kim mingyu waltzed into your life like the klutz he is. he manages to make every day brighter by simply existing. every smile, every laugh, every touch makes bad days seem like a distant memory.

that’s not to say you don’t still have them because you do.

you still have days– like today– where it seems like nothing is right. days where you overthink every single thing in your life, ‘am i doing this right?’ ‘does he still love me?’ ‘does any of this even fucking matter?’ days where you want the earth to crack all the way open and swallow you whole.

those days are beyond harsh. they have you trudging back home with wet lash lines, cloudy vision, and a loud voice in your head that’s begging– pleading– don’t cry, don’t cry, please don’t cry.

and today… today felt like you went to hell and back. the second your eyes opened, you knew it was going to be one of those days and it truly was a series of rather unfortunate events. you woke up late and alone, you were reprimanded by your boss, you spilled your much-needed coffee during your break, your coworkers were much more hostile than usual, you got yelled at by clients over the phone, your personal phone died halfway through the day because, of course, you forgot to charge it last night, and then, the intrusive thoughts came. the ones that had you overthinking like crazy.

and it’s not like you could talk to anyone about it (read: talk to mingyu about it). your phone was dead and you hated all of your coworkers, so you were stuck. stuck in limbo, it seemed, mind plagued with horrid thoughts. everything good in your life didn’t feel so good anymore.

which is why you were practically in tears when you got back home, letting them roll down your face shamelessly as your hand fumbled the keys. you eventually got it into the lock– after steadying your shaky hand– turning the metal and letting yourself in. the second you shut the door, you press your back against it, head in your hands as you let out the soft sobs you've been holding in all day.

on most of your bad days, you can keep your tears at bay till you make it into the shower. but, on days like today, you just can’t and your sobs echo through the empty apartment, reminding you that you’ll be alone till your boyfriend arrives. it’s not the prettiest sight, though, so you’re partially glad that mingyu misses it since he gets home after you.

he usually does, at least.

what you don’t realize is mingyu is home and he’s wandering around the apartment with his brows furrowed, confused as to where the sound of crying is coming from.

and when he sees you at the main entrance with your hands covering your face, he feels the air leave his lungs and his heart almost literally cracks in half.

he treads carefully, slowly making his way to you. “...baby?”

you’re startled, choking on one of your sobs at the sound of his voice. out of mere embarrassment, you quickly wipe your tears with your sleeve though it does nothing to hide the fact that you actually have been crying.

“gyu…” you say with a wavering voice, doing your absolute best to keep up your shitty facade. you quickly feel your resolve crumbling as you both stand in awkward silence, so you put your head down to avoid eye contact. “i-i thought you were working?”

he ignores your question and counters with his own, “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

you bite your trembling lip and shake your head, eyes still trained on the floor.

he walks a few steps closer, now towering over your trembling body, “c’mon, angel. tell me what happened.”

you take a shuddered breath, slowly raising your head to look up at him. he frowns at your bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks and at the fact that all you can say is “hi…” in a nearly-inaudible, yet dulcet voice.

“hi, baby,” he whispers back, hands coming to cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping at your stray tears. “tell me what happened.” he repeats, a bit more demanding this time.

you deflate, “i just had a bad day… it was nothing.”

he shakes his head at how you invalidate yourself, “it’s not nothing if it’s making you cry, Y/N…” he gently reminds. “please tell me? i wanna help… if you’ll let me.”

you sigh, leaning into his touch. your eyes flutter close and the words escape you before your brain can process them. you tell him everything trying your hardest to not let your emotions get the best of you. it’s not like mingyu would care if you were crying and blubbering out your words, but you knew he hated seeing you so upset, so you refrain from shedding more tears.

you try to refrain, at least. you can’t stop the way they helplessly fall when you open your eyes again. “nothing was going right, gyu… my day was so bad that it had me overthinking every little thing.”

“i’m sorry, baby.” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. “i’m so sorry i wasn’t there for you.”

you shake your head profusely, swallowing the lump you feel in your throat, “n-no! no, please, it’s not your fault, gyu, i swear. my phone died, so it’s not like you could’ve known anyway.”

he pulls away from you, hands coming down to hold yours. “what did you think about?”

you squeeze his hands, “a lot of things…”

“like?” he frowns, pressing further.

you look away, mumbling out a lie, “i dunno. it was a lot… i can’t really remember right now. ”

truth be told, you didn’t want to admit the anxiety-induced thoughts you had earlier knowing he’d worry. if he heard half the ones you had about your relationship, you know he’d probably break down himself. you’re well aware mingyu loves you more than anything on earth because he never fails to remind you.

but sometimes, the tiny voice in the back of your head– the one that says he’s too good to be true– gets a bit too loud and you tend to forget all his little reminders– all the ‘i love you’s’ he whispers into your ear right before bed, all the kisses he peppers onto your face, all the hugs where he squeezes the life out of you.

“you don’t have to tell me what you thought about, but i do want to tell you something,” he starts, a small smile making its way onto his pretty lips. he leans into you, with a voice so small as he says, “i love you. and i know i suffocate you with it sometimes, but it’s true. i love you so much. please don’t ever doubt that.”

you nod, sniffling, “i know.”

his smile grows, “and?...”

your lips curve up a bit and you whisper, “and i love you, too.”

“you better not forget it,” he playfully jokes, forehead resting on yours again. “you know i love you the most, though.”

you giggle softly, shaking your head. “you always turn it into a competition. you know it isn’t right?”

“i know it isn’t, but i do.” he confirms, voice tender and a bit hushed. “i want you to remember that the next time you think too hard. i love my pretty girl the most… more than anything. i’d do anything to keep you happy. wanna see that pretty smile everyday.”

the genuinity– the love– that drips from his words has you weak. the words replay in your head over and over almost as if it’s on a constant loop.

i love my pretty girl.

my pretty girl.

your breath hitches at the unanticipated pet name, remembering the sweet, innocent way it rolled off his tongue. you know you probably shouldn’t feel this way, but it doesn’t stop the way you squeeze your thighs together, pussy pulsing at the mere term of endearment. you’re almost sure mingyu can feel the heat radiating off your skin, yet he does nothing. he stands still, warm, brown eyes staring at your tear-stained face.

so you take matters into your own hands.

you stand tall and lean into him. your nose brushes against his and the proximity between the two of you closes quickly. i want to be kissed, your face reads– begs– and he finally sees that, obliging reluctantly.

his eyes flutter and his lips graze against yours before you take the lead and close the gap for him. as his mouth collides with yours, you feel warmth erupt in your body and you relish it.

the kiss is soft. gentle. it nearly has you melting under him.

but the longer his lips mold against yours, the longer his tongue roams the inside of your mouth, the needier you get. it’s like all your worries wash away. all the bad thoughts evaporate into thin air. all you can think about is the everlasting love you have for the man before you and the incessant love he has for you, too.

you untangle your hands from his in favor of pawing at his chest, nails digging into the cotton fabric of his shit and slightly biting into his skin.

you’re slowly, yet surely losing your mind. the kiss deepens and all the coherent thoughts you had minutes prior are being pushed to the back as mingyu is on the forefront of your mind. you’re overcome with need for him. need for him to make you forget everything. need for him to fuck you till all you can think about him and the way his cock makes you feel.

and mingyu knows this, of course. he knows with the way you claw at him and how you whimper desperately as if you’ve been deprived from his touch for far too long.

it’s why he doesn’t make you beg for it. instead he’s pulling away, watching you chase his lips while he breathlessly asks, “you sure you wanna do this, baby?” he looks so enamored with you. there’s no doubt you look like a complete mess right now, but it’s like he sees past it. past the tears, past the red eyes, past all the sadness.

“please,” you whisper, sniffling again.

he murmurs okay against your lips before grabbing your hand and guiding you to your shared room.

he diligently strips you of your clothing, first your pants then your shirt. his fingers skillfully popping the buttons on your blouse and slipping it off your body, letting it fall into a pool on the ground.

“so beautiful,” he whispers, massive hands immediately moving to grope your tits through your bra. “you’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N.”

his words linger in the air and you feel them. you feel beautiful when he stares at you half naked in your cotton panties and mismatched bra. you feel beautiful with your puffy eyes and snotty nose. mingyu makes you feel so beautiful even in your most unfavorable moments.

you whimper at his heavy hands, your own tugging at the ends of his shirt, wordlessly begging for the fabric to join the other clothes on the ground. he obliges immediately, practically ripping it off of himself before his hands are back on you.

he pulls your bra down, letting your tits spill out, kneading at the flesh with hearts in his eyes. a breathy version of his name comes out of your mouth–

and the sound makes his cock ache. his body yearns and begs to be inside of you. so much so that it has him swiftly unclasping your bra before gently pushing you onto the bed. he thinks it’s gentle, at least. mingyu tends to forget his strength so his gentle can be your rough.

it doesn’t matter, it never has. every single act mingyu performs for you is one that comes from a place of love. he’s a benevolent man, not a single malicious bone lives in his hand-crafted body.

“gyu,” you whisper, hand slipping in between your thighs to work on your clothed clit as he towers over you. at your own contact, you feel a shock run through your body and your back just slightly arches off the bed. “need you.”

he curses under his breath, suddenly unable to breathe in his loose house shorts. he hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and presenting his leaky, hard cock to you.

and the sight has your entire body going hot. you throw your head back against the plush pillows and moan out his name, louder this time, fingers moving faster against your clit– though it would feel so much better if he finally put his hands on you. or better yet, his cock inside of you.

“gyu,” you drag out his name in a cry and you finally feel the bed dip under his weight.

“i know, baby,” he whispers, hand moving yours away from your soaked panties in favor of replacing it. when his bigger fingers begin to rub circles into the covered bud, you gasp and let yours grasp at the sheets under you. “i know you need me. i’ve got you.” he reassures you, voice shaky as he notices just how wet you are. “gonna make you feel so good, don’t worry.”

but you don’t realize how sensitive you are because the second his hand slips inside your panties, his warm hand finding your heated cunt, fresh tears spring to your eyes. “oh, fuck,” you shudder, shaking underneath him.

“you’re so wet,” he mutters the obvious, fingers dipping in between your folds to collect your slick before pulling his hand out.

“don’t tease me,” you plead weakly.

he frowns, shaking his head, “i’m not– i won’t,” he tells you softly, rolling your panties off your body and down your legs. he tosses the cotton material over to join the other articles of clothing on the ground before his hands spread your legs open, displaying you for himself. “i told you that i got you, pretty girl, i promise.”

you give him a broken nod, squirming in discomfort.

his hand is back on your pussy in no time, tapping at your drooling hole with two of his fingers. “this still okay?”

you nod again, “yes, gyu.”

he leans down, lips meeting yours as he presses into you with his index and middle fingers. he’s quick to swallow your moan as he stretches you open, feeling the way your gummy walls invite and welcome him in.

your kiss is more fervent this time around. you can feel his need, the way he shoves his tongue into your mouth, messy and uncoordinated. it has you trapping his fingers between your wet walls, grinding with all your might against his hand.

you have no clue how he manages to multi-task, both finger-fucking and kissing you into oblivion, but he does both without fail. you whine desperately against his lips, one of your hands coming to wrap around his wrist in hopes to support yourself.

the wet squelching of your cunt fills the room and it has him pulling away from you for a second to groan out, “you hear that, angel? pretty pussy takin’ my fingers so fuckin’ well.”

you clench around him again, enveloping him as if your life depended on it– you feel so fucking good–

and yet you crave more. it feels good, yes, mingyu always has you seeing stars, but you need more. more of his fingers, more of him. and mingyu is probably well aware of the fact with the way your pussy swallows his fingers, but you know he’s reluctant about giving you too much because of… prior events.

you want that– you want too much. you want to forget about your shitty day. the only thing you want to think about, the only thing you want to be all-consumed by in this very moment, is mingyu.

“m-more–” you whine against his lips as he wildly pushes in and out of your messy cunt.

fingers unfaltering in speed, he pulls away from you breathlessly, lips wet and swollen. “more, baby?”

“mhm,” you give him pleading eyes as you whisper, “wanna cum.”

“fuck,” he mumbles, nodding his head mindlessly as if your words put him into a daze. his fingers pull out and his ring finger joins the two that are already covered in your slick. they push into you slowly, effectively opening you up. “how’s this, beautiful? this enough?”

you pant, clamping around the digits, squeezing them like a vice. “m-min-” you muffle your moan with your hand, more tears stinging in your eyes.

“no?” he asks, an endearing grin on his face. he maneuvers till he’s in between your legs, he moves further down the bed and your heart thumps erratically in your chest.

it’s when his lips wrap around your clit while he concurrently thrusts his fingers into your sopping heat that you let out an ear-splitting moan. you lace your fingers into his silky hair and tug at his roots without a care.

he winces and moans against you at the feeling, the pain making his cock throb against the bed.

your mind escapes you, melting at the pleasure. his tongue flicks at the sensitive, swollen bud while his fingers curl against your sweet spot, pushing you closer and closer to the edge and you’re on the brink of pure ecstasy.

“s-so close, fuck, i’m close, gyu.” you babble breathlessly.

he moans again, tirelessly continuing his brutal attack on your pussy, but the sound waves of said moans shock your entirety and teeter right over the edge. your vision goes black for a solid minute, only a few specks of white in sight, your blinding orgasm taking your entire body over.

you jerk under him, back arching as you release all over his fingers, the tightrope in your tummy completely unraveling and allowing you to soak his fingers in your syrupy arousal. his mouth moves down as he pulls out and slurps you up obnoxiously, eating you out as you cum.

and you can’t stop shaking, not even after he’s pulled his mouth and fingers away from you. your body twitches and writhes like he’s been working you for hours and mingyu, astounded, has never seen you like this– well, he definitely has– not after a single orgasm, at least.

he shudders, body burning with need. the taste of you alone has his brain a bit fuzzy. “are… you okay? was it too much?” he manages to ask, voice strained.

mingyu thinks his question falls on deaf ears when all he hears is your heaving and tiny whimpers. he moves to clean you up, partially worried he overstimulated you, but then you make grabby hands at the large, flushed man.

he leans into your touch, allowing you to grab on to him, “what’s wrong?”

when he looks into your eyes, glassy and glazed over, he notices the hint of need. the pinch of pure desperation. he sees the way you wordlessly ask for more of him, how you wordlessly ask for him to just fuck you already– he can’t deny you. not with the year-long day you’ve had or with the way his cock is basically begging to stuff you full.

he pecks your lips and sits up again. a soft chuckle escapes him as you chase him for another kiss, but it quickly turns into a sharp breath when he looks down at your puffy, pulsing pussy. you’re crying for him, that much is obvious, but your pussy is just weeping.

an endless trail of arousal continues to drool out of you and it’s so enticing… yet it feels so tantalizing…

he feels a bit guilty for being this hard, for wanting to fuck you so bad. it’s in his good nature. you’ve told him countless times that it’s okay, that you need him, but he just wants to make sure.

“are you sure?” he whispers, so soft that you could almost miss it. “we can just go to bed if you’re not up for this, Y/N.”

you can tell that mingyu is fighting inner turmoil. you know he always feels guilty for fucking you stupid. today, though, you’re sure he feels guilty for the other things.

you don’t want him to. he shouldn’t feel guilty for something beyond his control, so you muster up all your strength and, in a wavered voice, tell him, “i want you… always want you.”

you hear his breath of relief and see the wobbly smile on his face and you mirror it. he’s quickly ridding his mind of the guilt and shame at your reassurance and lining himself up with your hole. he slides the tip of his cock between your lips and revels in the way you jolt gently.

“deep breath f’me,” he mutters, knowing you’ll need it. when he hears your shaky inhale, he takes one of his own right as he pushes into you. “fuck,” he says breathlessly. you’re still so fucking tight around him.

a broken whine bubbles up in the back of your throat and mingyu watches the way your eyes screw shut and your jaw goes slack. beautiful, he thinks to himself. even when you’re fucked out of your mind.

he finds the strength to push past the resistance, slowly shoving himself inside of you till his pelvis meets yours.

when he bottoms out, your face contorts and you’re spluttering over your words, “s-so big,”

he nods his head like he knows. “i know, baby,” he murmurs, sliding one of his hands into yours. “but you’re so good for me, always take me so well.” he whispers this time as he’s leaning down, moving your intertwined hands next to your head on the pillow. his free hand cups your heated cheek and he studies you for a few minutes, cock fully sheathed inside of you.

he watches your face change as you become accustomed to the size of him, how your contorted, pained face relaxes as the minutes pass. when your eyes flutter open and you whimper his name, “gyu…” he pulls out a tiny bit before pushing back in– something of an experimental thrust– and discerns your positive reaction.

he repeats his actions, inching out a bit more and sliding back in with ease. his eyes observe you intently, noticing every reaction you make as he drives his cock in and out of you, each one going deeper than the last.

his hand squeezes yours and his lips graze against yours, “feel good?” he asks, breath fanning over your face.

“uh-huh, so good,” you respond in a pant. “th-thank you.”

he falters a bit, but continues to deliver his deep and calculated thrusts. “why are you thanking me, angel?”

“for taking care of me.”

mingyu’s heart swells and nearly bursts right then and there. his smile practically reaches his ears because mingyu, admittedly, loves being the cause of your pleasure. he’s a giver. he always has been.

it makes his hips move faster, his hips flushing to yours with every stroke. the bed squeaks under you, loud and annoyingly high-pitched. neither of you are bothered by the sound as you’re wrapped up within each other– you’re moaning and whining for more and more against his lips and he’s promising to deliver through deep groans and grunts against yours.

and he does deliver. the tip of his cock kisses your cervix and it knocks the wind out of your lungs. you squeeze the hand in yours and your other comes to claw at his body. you dig your nails into the flesh of his arm, biting into him in favor of leaving crescent shapes on his smooth skin.

he hisses, but the subtle sting just spurs him on. that and the way your pussy contracts around him.

“oh fuck,” you whisper, a high-pitched whine following the words. you’re so sensitive from your previous orgasm that it’s making all too much. your body is buzzing and the familiar knot is forming quicker than usual. “mingyu– mingyu, i-i’m so close.”

he nods, breathing out, “it’s okay, baby– cum for me. you deserve it.” you deserve everything you want, he fails to add.

you don’t hold back, completely unraveling under him. you’re easily reduced to a mess, gushing all over his cock while you mewl a mantra of his name. your brain leaves you for a solid minute as you mindlessly babble out thank you’s and i love you’s.

he pulls away from your lips as he watches you come undone. he’s truly so enraptured by you. with your tear-stained cheeks and the drool that trails past your bruised lips. when you tell him you love him– almost incoherently– his dick twitches in your spasming cunt.

“i love you.” he groans, swiftly rocking into you. you’re sobbing in overstimulation, but he eases you with more praise. “you’re so good, fuck, so perfect. i love you so bad.”

his hand leaves your cheek, instead grabbing your free hand and intertwining your fingers. he pins your hands next to your head, just like the other, and continues fucking you.

“my pretty girl,” he murmurs, holding your contrastingly smaller hands tightly. “i’m gonna cum inside… you want that right?”

the question triggers your mind back to life. “please,” you moan weakly. “n-need it.”

he twitches again, a throaty groan coming out of him before he gasps. his entire body stiffens before he presses himself all the way inside of you. his groans and grunts distort to needy moans as ropes of his seed paint the velvet walls of your convulsing heat.

he attempts to control his breathing. after a minute straight of panting and whining, his heaving chest slows and falls into a steady rhythm.

“are you okay?” he pants, pulling out of you, body still hovering over yours. “was it too much…”

your lips turn up into a tiny, sweet smile and nod your head, “‘m okay, baby.”

“good,” he whispers, leaning in and kissing your lips.

he releases you from his grasp and falls next to you, trying to recover more before cleaning you up. he sighs, soothing a hand over your skin and you scoot into him.

“i wanna help you,” mingyu starts with the softest voice you’ve ever heard after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “you can always tell me when you’re having one of these days, baby… you know that right?”

“i know,” you nod, mindlessly tracing shapes onto his bare chest.

“i’m always gonna be here for you… as long as you’ll have me.”

“i know.” you repeat, words whispered this time. “you always make the days better– make them shine– you literally have a heart of gold, mingyu.”

he chuckles, “i don’t,”

“no, you do. just trust me. if we cut you open right now for open heart surgery, there’d be 24 karat gold in the shape of a human heart inside of you.” you tell him.

mingyu smiles widely. happily.

“just remember that this heart is all yours, angel.”

taglist 🏷️: svt : 🔖 @roe-sinning @hyuk4ngel @bowmonde @5xiang @ttyunz @lunaofthelake @girls4cheol @miriamxsworld @enhacolor @jihoontea

#mingyu smut #svt smut #seventeen smut

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i-love-ptv · 5 months

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High By the Beach

Felix Catton x reader

Smut <3

An: AHHH SECOND FIC BBS!! ENJOY! Also, if I was Oliver, the drain wouldn’t be the only thing i’m sucking on…

(ik Felix smokes cigs but i feel like he’ll get high every once n a while :3)

Felix loves to get high. But he loves fucking you even more. Adding the two together makes him feel like he just might have made it to heaven early.

The sight of you, his angel, wrapping your pouty, bitten lips around a blunt makes his cock twitch inside of you. Although, he makes a mental note of not biting your lips as hard. He couldn’t be rough with his sweet baby. After all, he is a gentle, and passionate lover. For now, anyways.

He always became so soft when high; wanting nothing more than to please you, and show you how much he loves you.

His strokes are sloppy, as he messily pumps in and out of you. Even so, you can still feel and see the passion and love he has for you.

Neither of you ever pay attention to how long the both of you remain intertwined. The two of you could go for hours and not think twice about it; but there are zero complaints from either side.

But sometimes, after he’s had one too many puffs, his mind gets hazy. That’s a given of course, but this makes him zone out. Makes him forget where exactly he is. Leading to him accidentally sliding out of your soaked cunt.

He comes down from the clouds in his head and realizes his mistake.

“s-shit. oh m’so sorry lovie, s’alright..lemme make it all better baby.” He slurs out in a whisper.

Nothing makes him happier than when he blows the smoke into your face; watching your eyes droop as you inhale softly.

The noises that can be heard in the room are his soft, needy groans; the slight bang of the headboard bumping against the wall; his big, heavy balls slapping against your skin. And most importantly, the sound of your high-pitch moans.

That’s his favorite noise in the whole world. It sounds like a heavenly gospel to him; the sweet melody of his angel. He swears it’s the best song he’s ever heard.

“tha’s right m’sweet angel, sing t’me.”

He doesn’t care who hears, in fact, that’s the last thing on his mind. All he can think about is how he’s pressing on your tummy as your pussy clenches around him. How your whines and cries become more rapid and abrupt; how your back arches while he continues to press you down into the mattress.

“c’mon baby, do it f’me. I know y’can”

His eyes shine as you cum around his cock; your pussy sucking him in. His brows furrow as he feels your delicious cum start to drip onto his cock. He looks down and watches the smoke crowd the bed as the base of his dick and his balls turns milky white from your drenched cunt. His thrusts slowly come to an end.

“ohhhh m’sweet angel, y’did soo good f’me.” He coos as he lays on top of you.

As you go to ask him about what he wants to do when it comes to him finishing, you hear soft snores exit his body.

You finish off the blunt and eventually drift off to sleep, the thought of Felix leaving himself unfinished roaming through your mind.

Felix didn’t think about coming, his goal was to give you the pleasure that you need; the pleasure that you deserve.

After all, he is a passionate lover.

#felix catton #jacob elordi #saltburn #felix catton x reader #felix catton imagine #oliver quick #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi imagine #felix catton x you #Lee’s Ted Talks #x reader #farleigh start #farleigh start x reader

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beomiracles · 2 months

Text

sex with a ghost ft yeonjun

─ dark lustful eyes pierce yours, "still think I'm not real, angel?", he taunts as he moves in and out of you slowly.

A/N ─ heh, hey :3 I've been working on this all evening but I sorta gave up on the proofreading part... it's 1am ok. My longest one part fic yet, coming in at 7.3k words exactly >_< I am DESPERATE to know your thoughts on it !!!!

pairings: ghost!taehyun x psychic!afab!reader warnings: major character death, slight descriptions of character death, ANGST, cheating???, eventual smut, fingering, oral (f rec), vaginal penetration, slight degradation but also praise, multiple love interests if you close your eyes squint and believe.

A screeching sound can be heard echoing through the quiet neighbourhood as your car comes to a stop. You really needed to invest in a new one soon.

Gathering your supplies, you step out to be faced with a large apartment complex. The neighbourhood was foreign to you, though the houses looked to be well maintained.

Climbing the stairs to the entrance you curse yourself for choosing heels today. The doorbell rings, once, twice, you're greeted by an elderly woman's voice through the small speaker. "Hello ma'am, it's y/l/n, from-"

"Oh! Yes of course I know where you're from, come on in!", the doors swing open and you make your way through the entrance. The elevator makes a noise as the doors open on the seventh floor and you walk out.

The elderly lady whose voice you'd heard on the speaker is already standing in the doorway, waving you over. As you reach her you bow, "miss, y/l/n y/n, ma'am". The woman smiles as she introduces herself as Mrs Kang.

Mrs Kang leads you through the small hallway into a spacious living room with a marvellous view of the city. "Tea, coffee?", she asks as she takes place behind the counter in the joint kitchen space. "Just water will do fine, anything else tends to mess with my work", you say as you sit down by the dining table.

Taking out a wax candle you place it in the centre of the table. Around it you lay various dried herbs, the whole thing is finished off with a ring of salt around it. Mrs Kang returns with two glasses of water as she places one in front of you. You thank her and take a sip.

As Mrs Kang takes a seat in front of you she eyes the candle. You bring out a box of matches, "before I start, would you mind telling me about your son?".

The woman nods as she clears her throat, "I...well he passed just two months ago", she says, fingers picking at her cuticles in an anxious manner. "May I ask how?", your voice is soft as you keep your gaze on her.

Mrs Kang swallows, "it was a car accident, he...it was his friend who was behind the wheel", she shakes her head, "my Taehyunnie, he wasn't...he wasn't irresponsible like that he...", tears fill her eyes as she continuously shakes her head.

You offer her a tissue to which she silently thanks you. Wiping her eyes with shaking hands before she finally meets your gaze again. "It's wrong", she states, "I should not have to bury my child...". She holds back a sob as she continues, "I should witness him fall in love, g-get married and...", a sob escapes her throat, "a-and start a family of his own".

"He was so young", she cries, burrowing her face in the tissue. You extend your hand to caress hers. "I know, and I am so incredibly sorry for your loss".

Despite doing this for a living you still felt rather stale in situations like these. It felt as if you were invading a very private and personal part of her life.

As Mrs Kang's breathing slowly returns to normal you try and shift the direction of the conversation. "Why don't you tell me about how Taehyun was?" you give your most kindhearted smile. "What did he enjoy, was he afraid of something, did he have any dreams?"

Mrs Kang smiles, "he wanted to become a singer". She scoffs as she leans back in her chair, "I always told him he would do good as a model, he was very beautiful you know", she says and you nod, "I'm sure he was".

Mrs Kang shakes her head, "but there was no changing his mind, music was his sole passion". "The hours he would spend cooped up in his room, writing his heart away".

So he liked music? "And what about friends? A girlfriend?" Mrs Kang is silent for a moment, "he didn't have many friends growing up", she admits, "he wasn't very social...", a troubled look presents itself on her face, "perhaps I could've done more I.."

"You did an amazing job raising him, I'm sure", you say as your hand gives hers a squeeze. Mrs Kang gives you a thankful smile, "he did find a few friends through music", she frowns, "but he never brought a girl home".

She shakes her head, "but what do I know? he moved out years ago... I just, could never bring myself to do anything with his room...he's my only baby". Her bottom lip quivers slightly as her voice cracks, "and now...now it's all I have left of him.."

"I completely understand, and I appreciate you sharing all of this with me, I know it isn't easy for you". Mrs Kang nods as she blows her nose with the tissue before discarding it. "Whatever helps you maybe get in contact with him, I'm willing to do anything", she says, a hopeful look on her face.

"Then shall we get started?" you bring out a match, lighting it as you place it next to the wax candle. As the flame takes to life you blow out the match and place it down on the table.

You close your eyes as you take both of Mrs Kang's hands in your own. It doesn't take long before a familiar feeling fills your chest. It's sharp, pushing at your ribs, it feels as if they're about to crack, but it doesn't hurt.

That's how you know that there's something else present, someone else. "Kang Taehyun?" you ask and the surge in your chest grows tighter, you smile. "My name is y/n, I'm here with your mother", you can feel Mrs. Kang's grip on your hands tighten.

"He's here", you say as you open your eyes, "do you have any questions for him? anything you want him to know?". Mrs Kang nods, "I want to tell him that I love him..", she whispers, almost pleadingly. You nod.

"Your mother tells you that she loves you, Taehyun", you await his answer. The spirits never spoke verbally, but would send off different auras, they each held different emotions.

The surge in your chest suddenly felt warm, you smile, "he loves you too". Tears once again fill Mrs. Kang's eyes as she lets out a small sob, "ask him if he's happy, please, I need to know that my baby is alright".

You refocus your attention to the surge in your chest, "your mother asks if you're happy, Taehyun". You're unable to hide the surprise on your face as the pull on your chest immediately darkens, it's almost painful, you've never felt something quite like it before.

Mrs Kang is quick to notice the change in your expression, "what? what's wrong?", she asks worriedly. You shake your head as you close your eyes. The intensity of the surge grows with each second, "he's not happy", you admit and Mrs Kang lets out a small cry.

A soul lingers between the living and the dead for one of two reasons, it can stay behind to watch over loved ones, or it is unable to move on. Judging by the dark pull on your chest you would assume the latter. "Taehyun, why do you linger?", you ask, eyes closed.

The pull on your chest starts thumping rhythmically, almost like a heartbeat. It's quick, harsh, angry. Your eyes snap open, and your hand grips the collar of your shirt.

Mrs Kang immediately stops crying as she looks at you with a horrified expression, "what's wrong dear?" she exclaims. You shake your head, "I've never felt anything like this before", you admit as you take a deep breath.

The thumping is so loud that you fear your eardrums might burst. Quickly leaning forward you blow out the candle and everything comes to an abrupt stop.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself as your breathing returns to normal. When it finally does you look up at Mrs Kang, "may I see his room?".

Taehyun's room is neat, it feels almost melancholic, frozen in time. Your hands graze along the the shelves filled with albums of different artists. His closet was empty, to be expected. Your gaze lingers on a piece of paper discarded on his desk.

Picking it up you study the words scribbled on it, the handwriting is neat but most of the words have been erased or drawn over. It looks to be lyrics, was it a song he worked on?

"That one was no good", a voice speaks. You shriek, immediately dropping the paper. As you turn around you're met with a young man, possibly in his early twenties. His short black hair lay messily atop his head, his eyes are dark as they study you. Hands digging deep into the pockets of his denim jeans.

"What the fu...who are you?", you ask as you take a step back, your legs hitting the desk behind you. The man raises an eyebrow, "thought we met already".

It takes a moment for you to piece together his words and his comment about the paper in your hand. The way he was standing so causally... as if it were his own room.

"Kang Taehyun?"

He smirks, "in the flesh, well not really". Your jaw goes slack as you stare at the man in front of you. "But...that's not possible, you're...you're",─"dead?", he asks to which you nod.

He shrugs as he takes a step toward you, "your black magic seems to have done a lot more than you expected it to". His dark eyes pierce yours as his brow twitches slightly, "I'll give you that though, I never really believed in the supernatural".

Your mind is still in shambles as you try and make sense of the situation, "how are you here? it makes no sense..". You blink, once, twice, but he remains. You close your eyes for a solid thirty seconds before peeking them open. "You're strange", Taehyun comments and you feel as if your legs are about to give out.

"This can't be happening", your hands claps around your head, "I must be going crazy, yeah that's it, I'm hallucinating". You let out a short laugh, "I really need to get more sleep, I'll take a nap as soon as I come home, yes, that'll solve it".

"Do all psychics talk to themselves?", he asks as he tilts his head. You breathe in, then out, "you're not real", it's a statement not a question. And just like that Taehyun vanishes, the tension in the room slowly lifts and you feel yourself relax as you blink a few times.

Then he suddenly appears again, closer, so close that you could touch him. "Then what am I?" he inquires. His pale hand reaches out to graze yours and you jump, knocking the decorations on his desk.

"Is that not real?", he asks to which you shake your head. Taehyun frowns, he looks almost as if he's about to say something but stops himself. He vanishes, but in less than a second he reappears, now sitting on his bed.

You're about to speak again but the sound of the bedroom door opening has you snapping your head in said direction. Mrs Kang enters, "is everything alright? I heard a noise..."

"I'm fine but I...", you begin as you turn toward the bed, it's empty. Taehyun was gone again.

Mrs. Kang thanks you over and over as she promises to treat you to dinner whenever you wished. You too, thanked her immensely for her hospitality and made sure that you would let her know should anything happen.

You didn't tell her about Taehyun, you were sure it had all been a hallucination. It was true, you were sleeping a lot less these days. You didn't know why, you had never had a problem with insomnia before but you suppose that surrounding yourself with the dead had a certain effect on people.

Still, it didn't explain the fact that you had felt his touch. His hand had been cold, hard as if made out of steel. It was like his whole body was frozen in time. Lucid hallucinations were not something you'd heard of so how...

Thinking that all you needed was a good nights sleep, you made your way home. The keys jingle in the lock as you twist them around in your hand. Kicking your damned heels off, you stumble into the kitchen.

Your hands still had a slight tremble to them as you poured yourself a glass of wine. Drinking on weekdays, alone, wasn't usually your forte but you figured that you needed it if you wanted to get any sleep tonight.

Bringing the glass to your lips you take a sip. "Didn't take you for a drinker", Taehyun's voice is loud, it feels as if its coming from within you. It startles you and the glass slips out of your hands and shatters onto the floor. Red liquor coating the wooden planks.

"Fuck", you look up to be met with Taehyun's figure on the other side of the countertop. "You followed me?". Taehyun shrugs, "if that's what you can call it".

You frown, this was way out of your level of knowledge. You had never heard of a spirit taking a physical form, even less clinging to a host. Were you the only one that could see him? Was that why he vanished when Mrs Kang entered the room?

"I don't understand...", you study his face, unable to read it. "I wish I did but it seems I am as clueless as you are", he says as he leans his forearms on the counter.

"I...I did nothing different today", you mumble as your mind retraces the events of the day. "Then how are you able to take on a physical form? granted I'm not going crazy of course".

"I couldn't, not before at least", he drawls, "then you came along", he smirks, "and suddenly I could". You thought you might've officially lost it now.

You cross your arms, "it doesn't explain why you're following me of all". He frowns, "you're the only one who will listen", he leans closer over the countertop, "I thought you knew that already".

I'm the only one who will listen? He had to imply that others did not see nor hear him. You chew on your bottom lip nervously, "you have to excuse my manners earlier", he grins, "it's been ages since I last had human interaction".

His words make your eyes snap back to him. That's right, he wasn't human, not anymore. He was a ghost, and the only reason he was still here was because he's either watching over someone, or he's unable to move on.

"Why don't you let your soul continue? Why do you still cling to this world?" you ask. Taehyun's expression visibly darkens to the point where he almost looks demonic. "I've got unfinished business here", his words are almost inaudible.

"Unfinished business? what kind?" you press for answers but Taehyun remains quiet. "Does it have anything to do with your mom? your friends? your music?". Every question has his muscles tensing further until he slams his fist down on the countertop, "quiet, please".

You gulp, his knuckles leave a small dent in the marble stone but his hand remains untainted. Despite his harsh outburst another question bubbles at the surface that is your mind. You can't help but ask it.

"Was...was your death not an accident?"

Taehyun's dark eyes find yours as he locks them in place. It feels as if the room temperature dropped at least ten degrees and a shiver creeps up your spine. Yet you stand your ground as you refuse to break eye contact with the ghost.

It's quiet for what feels like forever until the soft rattling of keys from somewhere in the hallway grabs your attention. "Babe, 'm home", a voice calls out and soon Yeonjun comes into vision.

He's carrying two bags of groceries as he sets them down on the countertop. "Hey, you okay? you look like you've seen a ghost", he says as he makes his way around the counter to you.

"I...", you eyes flicker between your boyfriend and the now empty spot where Taehyun had previously been. "Shit, what happened here?", he asks as he bends down to pick up the remains of the wine glass. You had completely forgot about that.

"Oh, right I...I'm just tired I, I was going to clean it up", you rush to help him but a hand on your wrist stops you. "Go rest, babe", Yeonjun smiles as he gives your forehead a kiss, "I'll make us dinner, yeah?".

After the two of you have eaten you offer to do the dishes since Yeonjun had been nice enough to cook for the two of you. Yet you felt your hands trembling as you turned the plates over in your hands.

The whole day had put your body in a state of constant unease and you felt watched at all times. Lean arms wrap around your waist causing you to jump in surprise, the plate falls out of your hands and down in the sink again. Luckily it doesn't break.

"What's wrong, babe?" Yeonjun asks against your neck as he presses a soft kiss to it. You shake your head, "it's just been a long day", you say, and it's partly the truth. Your boyfriend hums as he turns the sink off, "I'll finish it up, do you want me to stay the night?".

Not even thirty minutes later you're laid in bed, your boyfriend's arm draped across your waist as the comforting sounds of his snores fill the room.

Though you hadn't seen Taehyun since earlier that evening you still felt that he was there. You didn't know why but it put you on edge and it wasn't until the early morning hours when you finally fell asleep.

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, as you make your way into the kitchen the dishes are done for you. A small note is placed on the fridge, "leftovers packed in the fridge for lunch, don't forget to eat, ─ love Yeonjun".

You smile as your fingers trace the outline of the small note. Glancing over at the oven clock confirms the fact that you had indeed slept in. Though your next client wasn't until this afternoon, it gave you plenty of time to get ready.

You don't see Taehyun, not when you shower, blow dry your hair, eat your breakfast or do your makeup. Leaving your supplies in the car the day before meant that it was only for you to get going. One last look in the mirror and you're off.

The google maps on your car glitches a couple times making your way to the client's house a huge detour. Nonetheless you still manage to make it in time.

When you arrive you're greeted by the younger man who'd called. He looked your age, perhaps even younger. He led you through the small hallway and kitchen into a cute living room.

The house spoke to you in many ways and you found yourself admiring the paintings on the walls as you waited whilst he brought the two of you some water.

He sits on the sofa across from you, wiping his hands nervously on his pants. You smile, "I understand that you have called me regarding your late grandfather, correct?", he nods.

"He passed almost four years ago...", he says as he looks down at his hands. "May I ask how?", your voice is soft as you place your hands on your lap. "Cancer", he says and you nod, "I am incredibly sorry for your loss", you reach a hand out to grab his.

His eyes widen as they travel between yours and the way your hands interlinked. "If you trust me, I will be happy to reach out to him for you", you say and the man nods.

"I will require both of your hands", you say as you extend your other hand, he quickly takes it. His hands feel sweaty against your own, probably nerves you thought.

Closing your eyes you search for that familiar pull on your chest. When you find it you instantly smile, the pull is soft and gentle, like that of an old person.

"Mr Park, my name is y/n, I'm here with your grandson", you say. The pull on your chest instantly blooms into warmth. "He's here", you smile.

As you blow out the small candle the pull on your chest seizes. The man is quick to thank you over and over. You notice how his hands still haven't let go of yours.

"He likes you".

Taehyun's voice is a stark contrast to that of the man in front of you as he sits on the sofa next to him. If you were surprised by his appearance the man in front of you hadn't seemed to notice.

You frown toward Taehyun, but his gaze is fixated on the man next to him. "I uhm, I wanted to say that I really admire the work you do.." he says shyly and you smile.

"What an ass kisser", Taehyun comments in a disgusted tone, "he just wants to get you in bed, it's written all over him", he grimaces. You ignore him as you offer the man a smile. "Thank you", you say as you squeeze his hands in an attempt to make him let go.

He lets go as he nervously begins to fiddle with his fingers, "I was hoping...no, wanting to ask if...", he clears his throat nervously, "if maybe I could see you again?" You nod, "if you would like to request my services again that's completely fine just-"

"No I...I was wondering if I could see you...", he says as his face flushes with color. Oh. Taehyun scoffs and averts his gaze, arms folding over his chest.

"I'm uh, I'm afraid that's not possible", you say as you rub your wrist awkwardly. He quickly nods and clears his throat, "right, of course, it's quite alright", he reassures as he stands up. "I'll see you out?", you give him an awkward smile as you nod. "That would be nice".

Despite having had a shower that same morning your body yearned for a second one. The sweat of that man felt as if It clung to you and the whole situation had been so awkward that you just wanted to get in the shower and wash it all off.

The warm water cascaded down your body and your ran your fingers through your hair. For some reason you found your mind wandering to Taehyun and you didn't like it. He made you feel an unexplainable way.

He had pestered you all way home, dodging all your questions about him and somehow always managing to turn the conversation around on you. Only for him to disappear once the car parked outside your apartment.

"He was practically fucking you with his eyes the whole time", he said as he leaned back against the leather of the passenger seat. You roll your eyes, "he wasn't".

Taehyun snorts, "how would you know, you kept your eyes shut the majority of it". Your hands grip the steering wheel tighter, "what's it to you anyway?".

He looks you up and down as he grins, "nothing really". You sigh, "then why bring it up in the first place", you mumble as you keep your eyes on the road ahead. Taehyun doesn't answer.

The warm water did little to ease the tension in your muscles and you turned the shower off and got out. Wrapping a towel around your body you begin running your hands through your wet hair.

A cool sensation against your neck has you spinning around only to be met with nothing but air. You frown as you turn back to the mirror, grabbing the blow dryer as you plug it in.

A cold hand on your shoulder makes you jump and you turn around to come face to face with Taehyun. "What the fuck!" you shriek as you pull the towel closer around yourself.

"Just because you can appear at your own will doesn't give you the right to invade my privacy", you retort as you cross your arms over your chest tightly.

A smirk creeps its way up on his face, "this is the least I've invaded your privacy so far", he says as he takes a step toward you. "You think?" you snap back.

Taehyun tilts his head to the side before vanishing. His voice echoes through your mind, "would you rather I stay up here?". The sensation has your head pounding and you press a palm against your forehead. "No, get out", you order and to your surprise he complies.

A fragment of a second later he's in front of you again, a smirk on his face. He reaches a pale hand up to trace your jawline and neck. His fingers are cold as they leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"What are you.."

"I like you".

His words have your eyes widening but Taehyun's expression is indifferent. "What?" Your tone does little to hide your disbelief.

Taehyun's thumb grazes your bottom lip, and you let him. Why? you didn't have an answer. "I said I like you", he repeats as his hand falls back to his side.

You shake your head, "you don't, you're confused, it's normal your soul is in a transitional state". He chuckles, "you think you got me all figured out huh?". You frown, "what are you implying?".

He takes a step closer, cold chest almost touching your warm one. "I'm...drawn to you", he speaks slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. You sigh, "because I'm the first person you've interacted with since your death, it'll pass", you assure.

"Really?" he asks, a playful grin on his face. "What am I to do until then?" his lips form into a slight pout. You were sure he could hear your heart literally pounding out of your chest.

The sharp ring of your doorbell has him gone in a second. You breathe out a heavy sigh of relief. Remembering that you had ordered takeout before your shower quickly has your mind shifting. Pulling on a robe you make your way to the door as you retrieve your food. Sitting down on the sofa, you pull out your phone to text Yeonjun.

"Come over tonight."

The bed squeaks in rhythm to the deep thrusts of your boyfriend as he pounds you into the mattress. Bare legs wrapped around his waist your long nails claw at his back.

His hand grips onto the headboard as the other gently caresses your cheek. "Look so fuckin' gorgeous tonight, babe", he groans as his face contorts into one of pleasure.

Your lips part in a soft moan as your back arches off the bed. Sex with Yeonjun was bliss. It always seemed to get your mind off things and relax you.

His head dips down to kiss and suck at your neck and your eyes flutter closed in pleasure. When they open again your heart almost stops as you find Taehyun's eyes staring right back at your own.

Hands in his pockets he leans against the wall as he looks at you. Only you, it's as if he's not even registering that Yeonjun is present. His gaze moves from your fucked out face, down your naked body. It stops at your core, as Yeonjun's cock slides in and out of your throbbing cunt. He stares shamelessly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

Your grip on your boyfriends hair grow painfully harsh earning a soft groan from Yeonjun, "need more?", he asks. You nod, your eyes locked with Taehyun's as you speak, "yes, need it so bad".

The night Taehyun had watched you get fucked out by your boyfriend had been the last time you saw him. Four days had passed without as much as a peep from him.

You were relieved, ready to put it all behind you. Writing it off as a weird hallucination of sort. It must've all been in your head. Though a part of you, a very small part, felt weird.

It wasn't that you missed him, you thought. But something was gnawing away at you every moment spent without even feeling the presence of his soul, tugging at your chest.

You had even for a split moment considered to bring out your supplies and summon him yourself. Thought you quickly discarded the idea again.

Your days were slow, uneventful and almost boring. Yeonjun was away on a business trip and you had spent the past nights alone in your dark bedroom. He wouldn't be home for another three days, you groaned at the thought.

Scrolling mindlessly on your phone as the late evening turns into early night. You didn't have any clients tomorrow so you didn't see an issue with staying up.

By 2am your eyes finally began to feel heavy. Putting your phone away you pulled the blanket over yourself as you got comfortable. You had almost drifted off into a deep sleep when the light squeak of the floorboards made your eyes snap open.

Sitting up, you pulled the covers closer to your chest as you squinted in the darkness. It was quiet, but you knew that you weren't alone. The tugging sensation in your chest had returned, he had returned.

"Taehyun..?" your voice is barely above a whisper but a soft hum coming from somewhere in the room confirms your suspicions. Carefully reaching over, you flick on the lamp on the bedside table.

The room is immediately cast in a dim light as Taehyun's figure comes into vision. He's standing exactly where he had been, four days ago.

Was it bad that you were relieved to see him? Probably. Yet you couldn't hide the smile etching its way to your face.

Something was different about him, you couldn't pin point it until your gaze met his. Dark eyes were piercing yours much like they had the first time you met, but this time they held something else, lust.

You barely have time to blink and he's by your side. Standing next to the bed he towers over you from where you're sitting. Cold fingers slide under your chin as he turns your face up.

Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen, "T-Taehyun..?". His thumb pulls at your bottom lip before he lets it go. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he takes a few steps back.

Left confused you shift awkwardly on the bed. "What's going on...?", you whisper, he doesn't reply. It's strange, you hadn't seen or heard from him for four days and now, he just shows up acting all strange without even speaking to you.

"Listen Taehyun, I..", your words get stuck in your throat as he suddenly appears in front of you. Your back is pushed against the headboard as Taehyun cages you against it. Arms on either side of your head, his hands grip the headboard tightly. His knees hit the soft mattress as he straddles you.

"You what?", he asks, his voice is low, rumbling from deep in his chest. You swallow, "I...uhm...I...", your eyes shift from his own to his lips. Your tongue subconsciously darts out to wet your lips as your gaze travels back up to his eyes.

Taehyun lets out a frustrated groan as he mumbles something under his breath. You can't make the words out and before you know it his lips are on yours.

Your eyes widen but only for a moment before they flutter closed. His lips are cool against yours, but it's not unpleasant. The kiss is tender but it's full of desire. A sense of longing and yearning emits from him as his lips move softly against yours.

Though Taehyun is quick to pull back, he studies your face for a reaction. You bite your bottom lip softly as your gaze falls on his lips. "One more", he breathes out before crashing his lips against yours once again.

This time he doesn't hold back as his tongue forces its way inside your mouth. You happily comply as your lips part, your hands find their way to his hair, tugging softly at the ends.

Teeth clash together as Taehyun presses himself impossibly closer to you. His hands move from the headboard to gently cup your cheeks. His touch is electrifying.

But is it right? Your mind goes to Yeonjun, your boyfriend. You had a boyfriend for christ's sake, yet here you are making out with...with a ghost.

Could it count as cheating if he wasn't even a real person? You didn't know, and in that moment you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Taehyun is first to pull away as you chase after his lips, a soft whine emitting at the loss of him. He smirks, "so eager", he coos as his thumb massages your saliva coated lips.

His other hand finds the end of your blanket as he pulls it down. You're wearing nothing but your satin nightgown, it barely reaches your upper thighs. Perked nipples prominent through the thin fabric.

"Don't tell me you've been getting this dolled up every night", he mumbles as cold fingers trail along your collarbone, down the centre of your chest.

You shiver as you squirm under him, "you wear this for him too?", he glances up toward you. You bite your lip as you shake your head no. You usually wore something more comfortable to bed, but the past four days had been affecting you greatly. Perhaps it was the absence of your boyfriend, or maybe it was the absence of the soul you had grown so accustomed to in such a short time.

Taehyun hums in approval as he pushes the thin gown over your hips, revealing the white lace concealing your aching core from him. Index finger finds the hem of your panties as he pulls it up, "and these?".

Your face flushes all shades of red as your eyes meet his, "they're new..", you whisper. Taehyun lets go of the fabric wrapped around his finger, it snaps back against your skin.

"A shame for them to get ruined on their first wear", he says as he presses his thumb against your clothed clit. A soft gasp escapes your lips as your thighs twitch slightly. "But you don't mind do you, angel?"

The nickname catches you off guard, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. His other hand rubs small circles on your hip as his fingers on your clit move your panties to the side.

"Knew you'd be fucking perfect", he slides two fingers inside of you without much struggle and you arch off the bed with a whimper. The hand on your hip holds you back down against the mattress as Taehyun watches his fingers slide in and out of your dripping pussy.

"That boyfriend of yours aint enough?" he tilts his head as he looks at you, your lips parted as soft moans spill from your mouth. "Greedy fucking bitch", his fingers curl inside of you making you cry out in pleasure, "one guy aint enough for you?"

You shake your head, "n...need you", you whimper. Taehyun hums softly, "you will". He retracts his fingers making you whine at the loss of contact, "let me taste you first, dollface".

His fingers are quickly replaced by his soft breath as he inhales the scent of you. "Smell like fucking heaven, angel", he groans, "bet you taste like it too".

Your thighs clench around his head as he presses his tongue flat against your clit. Hands in his hair, you force his face closer to your throbbing cunt. Soft whines and moans leave your lips and when he inserts his tongue you swear you see stars.

Air wasn't a necessity for Taehyun and he used it to his advantage as he devoures your cunt like it was his last meal, ironically enough it could've been.

Cold hands caresses your plush thighs as they tremble under his ministrations. A familiar feeling fills your stomach as your climax approaches. Taehyun looks up from between your legs and you swear that the way he looked at you almost made you orgasm on the spot.

"Gonna give me a taste of your heaven, angel?"

You whimper as your orgasm cruises through you, Taehyun is quick to greedily lick and feast on your high, his nose stimulating your clit as he does in an almost taunting way.

Once your legs stop trembling he finally sits up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. You're left a panting mess as you lock eyes with him. "Can you give me one more, dollface?" he asks as one of his hands palms himself through his jeans. You eagerly nod.

His smirk is the last thing you see before he grabs you by your thighs, pulling you down so that you lay flat on your back. Propping himself up on one arm Taehyun leans over you, fingers brushing a strand of hair out of your face as the tip of his cock prods at your cunt.

He leans down to connect your lips with his as he slides himself inside. Thick cock stretching you out in a blissful way, you moan against his lips.

"Greedy fucking pussy sucking me in like it's been starved", he says as his lips move down your neck and collarbone. He moves slowly, filling you out with each thrust. "Bet it has", he says as he teeth graze the flesh of your breast.

"Your boyfriend is sloppy", he grunts as he thrusts back inside of you, "doesn't know that he's got heaven right in front of him". His mouth finds your nipple through the thin material of your nightgown, twisting and pulling it between his teeth.

You whimper and feel yourself clench around him, pulling a groan from Taehyun as he sucks marks onto your chest and neck. One of his hands travels down your thighs, pushing it up, allowing him to sink deeper into you as you both moan in union.

"Shit angel, you were made for me", he breathes out as your lips find each other in a messy exchange of kisses. Pulling away for a short moment, his dark lustful eyes pierce yours, "still think I'm not real, angel?", he taunts as he moves in and out of you slowly.

"Just shut up and kiss me", you moan as you pull his lips back down on yours again. You can feel his smirk against your lips as he snaps his hips against yours, earning a loud cry from you.

Your breath grows short and ragged as you feel your second orgasm of the night approach. Taehyun's thumb finds your abused clit as he rubs it teasingly. "Gonna cum for me a second time, angel?"

Your cunt throbs around him as you release all over his cock, hands pulling at his hair as a soft whimper escapes your lips. Taehyun's teeth graze your skin as he buries his face in your neck, a low groan leaving his lips as he finishes deep inside of you.

The sensation is unlike anything you've felt with anyone before, not even with Yeonjun. Taehyun rests his forehead against your as he waits for you to catch your breath, the perks of being dead you suppose.

His gaze remains lustful as he studies your face but there's something else too. The back of his hand gently caresses your cheek as he speaks, "my room, on the desk, top drawer to the right, there's a blue USB stick, take it".

His words confuse you, but he doesn't let you overthink it as he reconnects your lips in a soft kiss.

When you wake up the next morning Taehyun is gone. At first you think that the previous night might've just been a feverish dream, but the mess that were your bedsheets and your missing panties told you otherwise.

A warm shower later you're sat by the TV. Taehyun's words from the night before still ringing in your ears. "USB stick, desk, top right drawer", what did significance did the small device hold? There was only one way to find out.

You still knew the way to Mrs. Kang's apartment, she greeted you with a smile. After a rather long moment of small talk you find yourself in Taehyun's room.

Heading straight for his desk you pull out the top drawer to the right. And just like he said there it was, a small blue USB stick, you take it.

When you arrive back home you rush to your computer, as you plug it in a small set of files pop up. Curious you click the first one, at first it's dark, you frown, was it broken?

Then an image floods the screen, no a video, your eyes widen, it's a dash cam. More specifically it's the dash cam of the car that had taken Taehyun's life.

Anxiously you skip ahead, it's not until a few days later when the event actually takes place. Taehyun passes by the front of the car as he makes his way to the passenger seat.

While in the car you can only make out their voices, the engine roars to life as the car starts moving. They drive for a good thirty minutes, their conversation shifting between ordinary subjects.

It's not until they make it out on the highway that things start going wrong.

"Hey, slow down", Taehyun says. The car is visibly moving faster than the ones surrounding them. "I'm trying!" his friend then exclaims, his voice slightly panicked.

"What the fuck do you mean? Just slow down!", Taehyun's voice rises, and his friend curses under his breath. "I fucking told you I'm trying, it's not working the brakes..."

You close your laptop. You don't want to see what you already know is bound to happen. Though it's clear that someone messed with the car beforehand.

Taking a deep breath you reopen your laptop, clicking off the file you go back in time. It takes you a couple of hours to go through all the footage but then you find it.

Almost five days earlier, a man you don't recognise comes into frame. He walks around the car a few times, slowly, cautiously as he scans the area.

Then he gets inside, so he had a key? You don't exactly know what he's doing but you know enough to be certain that he's not fixing the oil. After a mere five minutes he exits the car and leaves.

That's what Taehyun wanted you to see. It wasn't a car accident, it was murder. And the person guilty was yet to be caught. It would explain why he wasn't able to move on.

You had to get this USB stick in the right hands. And that's exactly what you did.

The footage proved to be crucial evidence directly linking the man to the crime. He had turned out to be a direct family member of Taehyun's friend.

When Mrs Kang found out she was heartbroken. Though she thanked you immensely for finding out the truth behind her son's passing. You continued to visit her regularly after that.

You never saw Taehyun again, but every now and then a warm pull at your chest would remind you of his gratitude toward you and that he was forever indebted to you.

#txt #txt fanfic #kang taehyun #txt post #taehyun fanfic #taehyun #taehyun x reader #taehyun smut #txt taehyun #beomiracles ₊˚⊹ ᰔ #beomiracles hard thoughts ✧˖#tyunnie's dreams

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avawritesthings · 3 months

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sleepy | jh86

✦ word count - 709

✦ summary - in which jack is a horndog, even when asleep.

✦ warnings - smut

✦ ava’s notes - first time posting my writing! i’m super nervous but super excited! i have other fics in the works but i’ve decided to post this first :) … i hope you guys enjoy!

nhl masterlist

MOST PEOPLE DREAM when sleeping.

Some even have nightmares.

Jack? No…no…he fucks in his sleep.

Ever since you moved in together into a new apartment, and shared the same bed every night, like clockwork, Jack would start to stir and press his semi-hard length into your sleeping body.

You, of course, wake up because you’re used to it by now. And usually you wouldn’t mind, but he had invited you to join him and his family to spend the summer at the lake house.

Who were you to say no?

You and his brothers were simply separated by thin walls that didn’t keep in any sounds. One day, you had heard Quinn and Luke arguing in Quinn’s bedroom, and you could make out every word that was said.

But Jack? He wasn’t affected by the change in circumstances. No, he, yet again, subconsciously pulled you into his warm embrace and rutted his dick into your ass.

His hot breath was heavy on the back of your neck as he held you from behind. Hands started to wander underneath your shirt - his shirt - until he felt the swell of your breasts.

You could feel his cock slightly twitch from under his shorts. His hand eventually made its way lower…and lower until he reached the hem of your panties.

Ditching your underwear, at least for sleeping, sounded like a great idea from now on. From how often he does this, they’re just an obstacle.

You bit down on your lip and he shoved your panties to the side and started to rub on your clit. Without warning, Jack slipped a finger into your wet cunt and you lightly gasped. He smirked, and you could somehow feel it.

You weren’t even sure if he was still asleep or awake at this point. His finger curled and he added another finger. It felt too good to stop, but you knew that if he continued, you’d end up caught and the relentless teasing would ensue.

As one hand fondled your breasts, the other one was occupied with your pussy.

“Shhhh,” he whispered. He had to have been awake by now. You tried to wiggle away, but with how strong he was, you only managed to somehow get his fingers even deeper.

Jack rutted his hips against your ass yet again, and you could feel him thrusting into you. “Fuck,” he lowly whispered.

“Jack,” you whispered out, but he ignored you. Repeating his name again, which seemed to turn him on even more, had him trying to get his boxers off. Once they were on the floor, Jack gently pulled his fingers out of you, and used your arousal as lube.

You gasped when you felt the head of his cock line up with your entrance. As he stretched you out, you whimpered and covered your slack mouth with your hand. He just felt so good.

“Shh baby, this house has thin walls. You gotta be quiet,” he purred out. His lips were sloppily kissing your neck and cheek while lazily thrusting into you.

He kept hitting the right spot every time. You knew he was awake.

“You need to keep quiet,” he moaned. His fingers left your breasts and dropped down to circle your tight bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, Jack. Feels so good,” you mewled out, blubbering about how he felt so good and don’t stop.

He could feel your climax approaching rapidly, and his thrusts suddenly started to get more of a reaction out of you.

You bowed your head down and started to let out a moan, but Jack covered your mouth with his extra hand and muffled your noises.

“You wanna come?” Nod. “Come with me, baby. Come on my cock like the good girl you are.” And with that, you clenched around his cock. He followed shortly after, emptying himself before slowly pulling out.

You turned to face him, and his eyes were droopy with a lazy, fucked out smile on his lips. Pecking his lips, you embraced him and he wrapped his arms around your back, nestling his head into your neck.

Your eyes caught the time. 2:48. Rolling your eyes, you smiled softly and went back to sleep.

(No one caught you two, you naughty little horndogs.)

(like/reblog/comment/follow, if you want! if ur a little ghost reader, i appreciate u xo)

#jack hughes #smut #hockey #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #x reader #nhl imagine #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes oneshot #nhl x reader #my writing!

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sinkingnotsoslowly · 3 months

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Menace

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader (pronouns not mentioned)

Non-idol au, fluff, very little angst

technically is a part 2 of this fic but could be read as a standalone

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED

“Why aren’t you dating anyone Minho?”

Minho stops devouring his pudding to gawk at you. “I’m not questioning your decision to stay single but why are you really not dating?”, you ask.

“Because you haven’t said yes yet”, he goes back to eating his pudding as if he didn’t just say the most outlandish thing.

“Yes to what?”

Minho rolls his eyes in feigned annoyance, “Yes to me asking you to date me, duh”

“Ugh be serious Minho”, you huff.

“What makes you think I’m not serious (yn)?” he looks at you with something in his eyes that you can’t decipher. “I think I should head back now, my break ended ten minutes ago”, with that gets up and walks out of the café.

This was two weeks ago and it still hasn’t left your mind. It is not unlike Minho to randomly ask you out on a date but you never take him seriously. He always jokes about how you two should just marry each other if you were still single at thirty. But that day at the café he did not seem like he was joking about you dating him. Did you hit a nerve by asking him that? But if he was indeed upset, he would tell you about it, you guys always talked things out if either of you were upset. He has been behaving perfectly normally since then.

“I ate pudding today”, you waited for him to continue but only silence followed. “Minho you called me in the middle of the day to say that you ate pudding?”, you asked. “Yeah, and it was so delicious. Buy me more when you come over. Anyways I got to go, bye”, the call ended. Yep, very Minho-like.

You met Minho at a college party and then proceeded to make out with him only stopping when you accidentally moaned your best friend’s name instead. But he never held it against you. You eventually opened up to him enough to tell him that you were in love with your best friend. The said best friend was getting married in a month. And you would be there, as a guest of course. To your surprise you weren’t exactly heartbroken when Seungmin called you, gasping for breath like he had run a marathon. You could almost hear him grinning his puppy grin, “She said yes”.

Just because you were not heartbroken did not mean you were not sad. After all, there were years of pining, wishing that one day he would finally realise that the love of his life was always in front of him. That did not happen. You guys graduated, you got a job, he went for higher studies and found someone there. That night Minho came over with beer and let you ugly sob on his shoulder. Since college, he has always been there with you, your graduation, your first job, bad dates, going out for drinks on Friday nights and talking shit about your bosses. You thought he was good for you; a great friend.

“I’m going on a date tomorrow”, Minho said while setting up his laptop for the movie. It was your weekly movie night at his place, “Thought I should try getting out there”. He was still looking at the laptop avoiding your eyes. For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest. “Is this because of what I said? Minho I didn’t mean to upset you-”

“You didn’t upset me (yn). I’ve just been thinking of settling down”, he started the movie without further explanation. You wanted to press him on but you thought better of it.

You couldn’t concentrate on the movie. Throughout it, you kept thinking about what Minho said. You couldn’t blame him for wanting to settle down but you kept feeling uncomfortable with the image of Minho dating someone and then marrying her.

Minho has always been a menace but he became a little more annoying the next week. He always has this look on his face like he knows something you don’t and it has been eating at your brain. Midweek your composure breaks and you snap, “Ok what is it? Why do you look like you are up to no good?” At that Minho looks at you like you just sprouted two heads, “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Oh you know what I’m talking about Minho”

Minho keeps looking at you like a cat who did not just knock off the flower vase, and then he blinked like a lightbulb went off in his head, “Ah right! Come over on Saturday I need help to pick out what I’ll wear for the date.”

The date. Right. He was just excited for the date. You felt your spirits dropping. Maybe in no time, you’ll be attending Minho’s wedding too, as a guest. Wait what? Why would you think that? How else would you want to attend a friend’s wedding if not as a guest?

Oh.

OH.

Oh no.

You stood up abruptly almost knocking over your half-drunk coffee on the table, “I-I have to go, I haven’t even started the new project yet”. Without sparing Minho another glance you grabbed your bag to just get away from him as fast as possible.

“Huh? That was sudden. Well don’t forget about Saturday.”

You faked a smile towards him, “Yes, yes, Saturday, I’ll be there.”

Saturday came faster than you could blink. And it seemed like the universe had a personal vendetta against you this week. Missed deadlines, unnecessary hourlong meetings, spilt coffee, missing the bus- you name it. At this point, only a year-long vacation could give some mental peace. And on top of that, you couldn’t stop thinking about Minho. You didn’t see each other again after that one day when you barely escaped humiliating yourself.

“Should I wear the blue button-down or the black one?”

“Black”

“Hmm, ok blue it is” menace.

“Why am I here Minho? Not like you are listening to me”, you were sitting on his bed munching on the last of honey butter chips Minho had stocked up. You spent the whole day buried in the blanket, wallowing in self-pity, and almost didn’t show up today. You even contemplated going back home while standing in front of Minho’s house. God knows what you were still doing there sitting in Minho’s bedroom while he dressed up for his date.

Minho looked at you through the mirror, scoffing, “For moral support of course”. He went back to styling his hair without another word.

“Well then if am done providing moral support to your honour, I’ll be taking my leave”, it was time for you to go back to the safety of your blankets and cry yourself to sleep since you did not seem fated to have requited love in this life. The only option left was arranged marriage.

Before you could leave Minho’s room you were stopped. “W-wait, don’t you have anything to tell me?” Minho asked. You turned around, brain going into overdrive. Why would he say that? Does he know about my feelings? Is he teasing me? Oh God please no. But what if-

“Like- are you okay with this? Me going on a date?” Ah, so he was just worried. How sweet. “Of course, I’m okay Minho. Why wouldn’t I be? This is completely your decision; you deserve to be happy-”

“Oh my god, you’re so dumb (yn). Why can’t you just say it? Why can’t you just ask me not to go? Why can’t you tell me that you like me?” Minho paused, taking a breath to calm down, “I like you (yn). And I know you like me. There is no other girl. But I do have a reservation for dinner if you’re up for it”.

It would be an understatement to say that you were dumfounded. You had thought of many scenarios while laying awake in bed but not this. “Why didn’t you just confront me if you knew that I liked you?”, you asked, fiddling with the hem of your shirt which looked very interesting suddenly. Minho sighed, “I wasn’t sure at first. So I wanted to see your reaction by saying that I have a date. And it seemed like you weren’t sure about your feelings either. So are you up for it?”

“Huh?”

“The date. Do want to go on this date? Look I understand if you are pissed, and it’s fine if you say no-”

“Just drive me to my place so I can dress up atleast. You’re such a menace Lee Minho”

Minho grinned like a cat, “Yeah but now it’s too late to get rid off me. So this menace is now your responsibility”.

So you were fated to have requited love it seems.

masterlist

Autumn's sighs- little soft thoughts about our favourite boys

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jinkookspencil · 6 months

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a way to wake | ksj

you're fast asleep and seokjin has to wake you up... an old method he used on his friend eventually comes to mind

description/tags/note: seokijn drabble / fluff + suggestive / established relationship / i had this idea in my head for a while, ever since i found out how jin used to wake up jungkook when they were younger... and i ended up writing the whole thing while stuck in traffic on a random afternoon / i am actively working on til you make it 2 whenever i have the time! i'm glad i took my time with it, i improved it in all this time and am still thinking of ways to improve it little by little / also, i often get ideas or scenarios in my head that could be mini pieces, not even a drabble - some are barely even 500 words. would you guys be interested in stuff like that? lmk!! / anyways, enjoy!! / edit: i edited this fic to make it even more suggestive. they both hint at yn wanting jin to wake her up by touching her.

wc: ~1.3k words

Seokjin didn’t have it in him. You were sleeping so peacefully beside him, as you had through all seven of your alarms, likely finally getting in a good rest after many sleepless nights… and he had to disturb it?

He knew he didn’t really have a choice - you were already running late. It wasn’t going to be a problem for Seokjin really, after you both showered, it’d only take him a couple more minutes at most to change into his suit. You, on the other hand, always needed some extra time to get ready, and that ‘extra’ time was getting shorter and shorter the more he let you sleep.

You’d want him to wake you up, he knew that for certain, as well as the fact that you would probably scold him as well as yourself for your sleeping in. That reminder is what finally got him to nudge and rub your shoulder.

“Jagiya?”

He repeats the action numerous times, raising the volume of his voice every time, but still, you slept.

“Honey,” he calls with a laugh, tickling your side, belly, and thigh. Your elbow twitches once, but never again despite him repeating the action over and over again. “We need to leave soon. You need to wake up now, darling.”

Nothing.

He gets up to pull open a bit of the curtains, letting sunlight stream in and disrupt the darkness of your bedroom.

Still, nothing.

Frustrated now, Seokjin pulls out his phone and quickly takes a photo of you sleeping - just for himself - before opening up the music app. He plays clips of several songs, and all you do is wince, sleeping through them as you did your alarms.

“Are you faking it?” he asks aloud to your sleeping body. “Jagi… if you’re faking sleep, I swear I won’t eat you out tonight. I’m serious.”

Nothing.

That definitely would’ve done it if you were faking sleep. Really, you had no reason to fake it - you'd panic at the mere thought of running late - but Seokjin couldn’t eliminate the possibility entirely. You could be a bit of a brat at times.

He half considers physically pulling you out of bed, throwing a plushie at you, or emptying a water bottle on you, until he remembers a failsafe. A way that couldn’t hurt you like manhandling could, nor anger you with wet pajamas and sheets.

Jungkook’s way.

Seokjin giggles to himself at the thought. He had never tried it on any of his exes in the past, just Jungkook, really. It wasn't uncommon for boys to do such a thing at that age, especially when they were playfully roughhousing, which, with Jungkook, happened every day and at any time of day. Seokjin always had the edge by starting off Jungkook's days just like that - it always did the trick... And considering the other similarities you shared with Seokjin's younger friend, it wasn’t something to dismiss entirely.

Slowly, he turns you until you’re lying entirely on your back against the mattress, facing the ceiling with shut eyes. He moves from his position next to you until he’s over you, straddling your body with a knee planted on either side of your hips. He never took on this position with Jungkook of course, and almost started regretting it already - you felt too good.

“Jagi,” he whispers, pulling away the blanket from your body and letting his hand graze the skin at your collarbone and your stomach by the hem of your pajama top. He kisses your neck once, calling your name. It was the final chance he'd give you before he’d pull the trigger.

And you didn’t budge.

He sighs in defeat, not holding back his smile any longer when he sees your hardened nipples peak through the thin fabric of your top. Ready. Just for him.

With his index finger and thumb on both hands, Seokjin pinches and fiddles with your raised buds for mere seconds before you shoot up, finally awake.

“Wh?! W..what the fuck?! Jin!” you yell, wriggling underneath your fiancé’s body as he laughs, tumbling over you.

“I can’t believe that worked,” he says between his giggles, stopping only when you lazily reach towards his chest. “YA! I only did that to wake you up. You slept through your alarms, bub. We’re running late.”

“WHAT?!” you yell, pushing him off of you and hurriedly searching for your phone. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?

“I TRIED!” he protests, getting off the bed. “You slept like a rock. Who knew squeezing your nipples would finally do it? It’s what I used to do to Jungkook when we shared a dorm. Though, of course, I used to twist his nipples to the point where he was certain I detached them from his body somehow. I tried handling you with care, princess.”

“Couldn’t you have used your fingers somewhere else, Seokjin? A bit lower perhaps? You know, something Jungkook doesn’t have? Something you could only possibly do with your girlfriend?”

Seokjin stares at you. Despite the fact that you’d looked delectable asleep and under him already, the thought never occurred to him. Of course the thought wouldn’t occur to him. This wasn’t a conversation you had had together and he hadn’t gotten your consent or any hint that it’d be something you would want. Unless of course, he had been the reason you refused to wake up… Seokjin’s mind wanders with a desperate need within him to have the conversation then and there, knowingly unprepared if you’d admitted to it all. Wanting to be woken up that way. A dream, perhaps. They might have just forget the event altogether…

He begins following you around the room with pleas for a moment to talk, but you don’t turn back for a second until it is to do the exact opposite of handling him with care - dragging and pushing him into the bathroom.

Seokjin watches as you undress, doing the same and half hoping for a quickie, considering your eagerness. He almost felt his length begin to harden, but soon you’re pushing him once more, into the tepid shower with a loofah in hand. He tries to put his thought away for now, caring for your body in another way he felt so privileged to do. To maximize efficiency, you wash yourselves and one another before going about your routines at double the pace. Seokjin’s entirely dressed in minutes, save for his suit jacket, while you were still getting ready, wearing a lingerie set underneath a robe. Extra time for you, and extra time for him to admire you.

“Help me with my dress,” you command him, stepping into a dress he promptly zips up, but not before he drinks up the sight of you in brown silk and lace underneath. Stood behind you, he watches as you adorn yourself with jewelry but can’t stop his hand from snaking over your waist, softly cupping your breasts over the fabric of your dress. You don’t react save for a sharp inhale, continuing to adorn your look. You’re so stunning it almost brings him to his knees. He’d happily allow his body to get there, too, kneeling to tease you at the very least and at most, sneaking his head underneath your dress and pulling down your underwear - just for a taste. But instead, he nudges his head in the crook of your neck - softly kissing along the chain of your necklace. “Tell me, honey… were you dreaming of me? Is that why you didn’t want to wake up?”

You roll your eyes, playfully swatting Seokjin’s hand on your waist, his fake arrogance replaced with a wide smile in seconds. “We need to leave.”

“I made a promise,” Seokjin says, wearing his jacket. “While you were asleep. I made a promise.”

“Oh?” you question, spraying perfume on the two of you. The final touch.

“I said that if you were faking sleeping through your alarms, I wouldn’t eat you out tonight.”

The promise makes you stop in your tracks towards the front door, Seokjin getting there first with an intrigued expression on his face when he looks back. “Since you weren’t faking it, that means I have to do it. And since you slept through the many different ways I tried waking you up… I guess it seems I gotta get you to do something else.... gotta get you somewhere.... many different ways tonight…. Oh, and of course, you won't be faking it this time around as well.”

He’s unsure if the redness in your cheeks is heat flooding your system or makeup he simply hadn’t noticed a minute prior. As you make your way towards your fiancee, you see smugness only slightly present on his face, overshadowed by sincerity - that of a genuine promise. Your hands fiddle with Seokjin’s tie before resting on his chest.

“I didn’t realize dreams could manifest into reality that quickly.”

“I knew it,” Seokjin smiles, kissing your hand as his ears go red. The idea of you actually having a wet dream about him this long into your relationship… the fact that you’d dream of him and his body pleasuring yours, after only hours apart in sleep… it sent him into a frenzy.

“I mean, I know I’ll hear it tonight, but I kind of wish you’d been moaning my name in your sleep…”

“Well, you didn’t see my pajama shorts, did you?,” you whisper, flicking Seokjin’s nipple over his shirt. He winces but is quick to disregard the pain - his face flushed, and he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands, trying to reach for your waist, thigh, or ass - you push him away.

“It was a very vivid dream, honey. Don’t you worry… I’ll tell you all the many different ways I want it. The ways you did it… And tomorrow, wake me up like it never ended.”

There it was.

“Can we stay in? We’re late already,” Seokjin whines. “We can get a head start. Morning to morning…” He feeling his knees buckling at the thought, slowly trying to pull you closer to him in persuasion. You don’t budge and open the door instead.

“You know we can’t…. Now’s your time to dream of me.”

The hunger within him only grew, already fantasising of the of the night to come. Now, he was in competition with himself and he’d make sure your reality is far better than anything you could dream of.

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ifyoucandaniel · 24 days

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exactly one person asked and i’ve been DYING to make this, so here are all of my favorite long batman fanfics in general and for new readers @twisted-tales-told :)

cards on the table by @wesslan ! 69k, completed. this is one of my all time favorite fanfictions, it’s so funny and tim is a mastermind genius and a little liar <3 he basically pretends to be a fortune teller and gives scarily good predictions and advice by stalking the upper class and eventually gets involved with the batfam and has to maintain his lies while dealing with his issues :) 10/10, very found family, good angst, so much lying

Dark Matter by @mysterycyclone , 221k, ongoing. this is a batman fanfic rec, of course my bbg dark matter is going to be here <3 this is a MCUxDCU crossover where after infinity war (spoilers for that if you haven’t seen it!) peter parker gets sent to the DCU dimension with part of the soul stone and basically is haunted by the ghosts of the avengers while trying to survive in gotham and get back to his dimension. this is so well written i’ve read it at least three times, it’s still ongoing but trust me it is SO GOOD. i can’t properly describe it, but if you like spider-man and you are interested in batman, you’ll love.

Red is the Color of Sinners by @bluelotuswrites , series, 120k, ongoing, M. i want you to look me in my eyes when i tell you this is my favorite series on ao3. it is set after under the red hood and daredevil 3 where jason and matt meet in a church after jason loses his ability to speak following the events of UTRH. they keep running into each other both as matt and daredevil and eventually jason begins helping matt out with injuries and tech. it’s not finished yet, but there is something so compelling about their dynamic in this series as well as jason’s overall character and how he is portrayed. i’m a sucker for mute jason after UTRH and this series does so well giving him a fresh start and a place away from gotham to heal and build relationships. i cannot recommend enough.

buy back the secrets by @vinelark , 71k, ongoing, T. THIS!!! oh my god, so this is a timkon fic where kon still doesn’t know tim’s civilian identity, but whenever he’s in trouble tim calls for superboy which leads to them meeting without kon knowing. shenanigans ensure when kon starts spending more time with tim! it’s still ongoing but the author is currently working on the next part and it is so so worth the wait. chapter 4 ends on a cliffhanger though so be warned :))

Sales People Know (listening is the most important part) by Mayhem10, 77k, completed, T. this has the coolest urban magical realism ever. tim basically runs this magic shop that shows up places and people who need something find it in his shop :) it’s kinda a slow burn found family fic with magic themes and a smidge of angst!

Retrograde Motion by Lysical, 112k, completed, T. this is best de-aged kid fic ever. jason gets turned into a 7 year old and basically the outlaws, artemis and biz, join forces with the batfam to take care of him. but trust me when i say this is worth your time, it might sound tropey but in the best way possible!! and jason’s relationship with artemis is sooo important to me in this!

Hand in Unloveable Hand (a chokehold) by britishparty, 54k, completed, M. this is one of the best psychological torture/grooming fics i’ve ever read. pretty much what if while our taking photos of batman and robin, little tim gets kidnapped and black mask gets his hands on him and decides he’s the perfect size for a protege. years of psychological abuse and insane mind games ensue. also tim is a Badass™️

If He Had Come by bronwe_iris, 45k, completed, T. so i’m a little freak and i love the angst of arkham knight jason, but more specifically the aus where bruce saves jason before he becomes the arkham knight! this is an au where bruce finds jason and saves him from the joker after 9 months of torture and brings him home. focuses on his healing mentally and physically and rebuilding his relationship with his family

Banshee in a Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee), 43k, completed, T. veeeery good angst. basically what if tim couldn’t die? 43k of tim drake whump where he just dies a bajillion times and eventually his family notices <3

The Birds: Hatching a Family by Oceanera12, 81k, completed, T. this is like “what if the batkids weren’t adopted by bruce, but instead they were all foster siblings who can’t seem to stay out of gotham at night and batman happens to find them and decides obviously he can’t leave these kids to their own business, he has to stick his nose in it” and there’s some angst and heaps of found family

The Hellblazer’s Apprentice by @bluelotuswrites, 29k, ongoing, M. what can i say, im a simple woman, i love to see jason with literally any older male mentor :) basically in UTRH what if he took up an apprenticeship under constantine to learn magic to piss off batman! so good, i really love constantine so seeing him and jason interact in a long fic is so good. also ALL BLADES JASON TODD SAVE ME… ALL BLADES JASON TODD-

something in the static by bonerot19, 101k, ongoing series with three main completed works, T. this is a jason centric series where jason still lives in crime alley with his mom and dad and never stole the batmobile tires. it follows his life in crime alley with an addict mom and an abusive dad and one night when his dad is whaling on him nightwing finds him and the bats just can’t seem to leave him alone after that. steph is his neighbor and best friend also and their relationship is so good. this is a “what if jason took a different way home to the wayne’s” fic series and i love it so much <3

catch the asteroids that come your way by ThePackWantsTheD, 54k, completed, T. i don’t read a lot of ships in the batman fandom i’m sorry, but this kyle/jason one is sooo lovely. basically the two of them growing up together and falling in love and then dealing with the aftermath of A Death in the Family and finding each other again :) really sweet and nice!

hope you find something you like! i realized the majority of these are tim or jason centric, and i love them all dearly, but if anyone has any recs for long fics focusing on any of the other batkids lmk! and any other recs in general, i am a fiend for new fics

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hannieehaee · 4 months

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What are your thoughts on svt regency au?😳👁👁

content: regency au (more like pride and prejudice au tho oops), duke!joshua, darcy!joshua, a very short telling of the p&p plot, etc.

wc: 394

a/n: when i think regency au i imagine pride and prejudice and the first thing that comes to mind is joshua as darcy ☝️🤓

(this is not proofread btw)

duke!joshua who all the other girls have been talking about for months, except none have actually had the chance of meeting.

there's talks that he's rich and handsome and the most eligible bachelor around, so of course all the girls in search of a husband are interested in him.

and turns out the talk of the town was correct, because the moment he walks into the ball, all movement stops and all eyes are on him.

except he seems a bit ... cold? maybe proud? he has his nose raised high and a perpetual frown on his face, but somehow still manages to be the most handsome guy around.

somehow throughout the night, you manage to catch his eye, offering him a slight bow as he gives you one in return.

thanks to his best friend dokyeom's interest in your sister, you are forced to be in their vicinity (not that you're complaining), listening in to them converse about both your sister and you.

it was all very light-hearted in nature, which allowed you to relish in knowing your beloved sister was receiving praise from one of the most eligible bachelors around (which was dokyeom, who had also been one of the most renowned bachelors of the season).

dokyeom had been gushing about your sister nonstop, eventually coming to ask joshua if he'd be interested in his beloved's sister (meaning you, of course).

unfortunately for you, you were also in earshot when joshua delivered his cold-hearted response, claiming you to not be handsome enough to tempt him in the slightest.

this immediately causing you to lose all interest in the man, now condemning him to be too proud a man for you to ever consider him worth your affections.

however, you'd end up being forced into the same societies as him time and time again after that due to dokyeom actively courting your sister.

unbeknownst to joshua, upon having heard his low opinion of you, you'd now become determined in challenging him as much as you could any time you were forced in his presence.

you'd both begin to develop a dislike for one another, not realizing the feelings arising between the two of you.

you growing too prejudiced to ever give him a second glance, and him too proud to back down from his pompous attitude, but somehow still falling for each other.

a/n: this kay this was very short and rushed and wont make sense at all unless u like pride and prejudice so yea ... anyways i love the concept of one day making a full on pride and prejudice fic :0

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen #svt #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen au #svt au #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #joshua scenarios #joshua fanfic #joshua oneshot #joshua x reader #joshua fluff

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amourlyns · 3 months

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hey. I already made a request, but if you have a limit you can scrap that one.

My cat has been gone for 3 days (shes never been gone this long, shes an in door cat). We just got a ton of snow and I just overheard my parents saying they think the neighbor did something to her. I've had her since I was 11 and she means so much to me. I've been having a hard time having any sort of fun with my family for the holiday season and if you could I could really use any windbreaker characters of your choice comforting reader about that scenario?

❛ HEY VENGEANCE. ❜ ➜ ⁽ masterlist ⁾

✧ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕: a jealous owen, reminding you that you’re his forever and always. after hearing a fan compliment you after one of his races.

✧ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: none

✧ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: owen uses a lot of praise, but he’s also getting his ego fed bc he’s a brat. insane by summer walker was on repeat ngl + imagine that one video of asap hearing riri’s laugh. 😭i’m sorry to hear about your cat!! i hope yall found her in the end. hopefully this fic helps.

⟡ ⠀ | Owen Knight is not insane, you know that and he knows that. So, why is he hearing your voice ? And why does it ring out so clearly in the stadium ? You’re supposed to be in the UK.

Korea wasn’t going to work with you schedule, he knew that and begrudgingly accepted it. So who the fuck is making you laugh and giggle like that? Yeah, he won the race but at what cost ? Where is his baby at—

There you are.

Now you don’t see him, but you could definitely feel his gaze on you, he knows you can. So why aren’t you looking at him? The race was over— and you came to Korea just for him.

So why was another man hogging your attention ? You didn’t even seem remotely interested. Your eyes eventually meet with Owen’s, a smile graces your lips. You’re already making hasty strides in his direction.

Even though all of your attention is on Owen now, his stare still lingers on the man you were talking to moments ago. Owen was always transparent about his feelings, you could read him like a book. He was vocal, and if he was thrown off by something? He would make it known.

He starts it off slow, discussing your appearance in Korea and what a lovely surprise it is, it really was of course. So there was no lie there, but he does mention the man you were talking to before.

❛ Why did you sit closer, baby? ❜ Owen pouts, jutting out his lower lip. You place a quick peck on his lips, cupping his cheeks and chuckling at his own behavior. He’s such a drama king, you’re not quite sure how you manage, especially with him.

❛ Owen, sweetheart I’m only here for you. And you only, so why are you worried? Hm? ❜ He flushes at this, maintaining eye contact. A hand reached out towards your wrist, sending soft kisses around your finger tips. ❛ I deserve all your attention, you know it. ❜

Your practically beats out of your chest, it takes you a moment to remember you two are in a very public space. And he didn’t mind the PDA at all? ❛ Owen, slow down. ❜ It comes out much more softer than intended, he stops. Looking at you with wide expecting eyes. What’s next?

❛ Did he say anything? ❜ Owen huffs, pushing further into your personal space. A smiles graced your lips at his intensity, he is so in love. Isn’t he? ❛ The guy complimented my shirt, he knew I was supporting you. ❜ You’ve obviously struck a nerve.

Owen scowls, pursing his lips at the thought of some stranger complimenting you. Despite the shirt and all. ❛ And that was seriously it? But he was staring at you for so long— ❜ Lips find purchase on his. Quickly silencing Owen in the most effective way.

He’s already asking for another by the time you’re backing up. Trailing you like a lost puppy dog. You let him, of course. Telling him to pack up so you can cuddle at home and enjoy each others company. He’s already agreeing—

#𝐼 . ⁽ 𝐕 ⁾ 𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎’𝚜 : writings.#༄ ✮ ⁽ 𝐕 ⁾ 𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎’𝚜 ⸻ requests.#reader x owen knight #spirithub #windbreaker #windbreaker webtoon #oneshots #oneshot #wind breaker #windbreaker x reader

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xiaowhore · 2 years

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lights, camera, action!

premise. in which you get yourself involved in a lot of unscripted drama. (genshin celebrity au.)

includes. xiao, childe, albedo, ayato, scaramouche, thoma & kazuha.

previous episode. watch here.

note. the long-awaited sequel nobody actually waited for lmao. please read part 1 if you still haven't! this entire fic would be incomprehensible otherwise :'D

四 ; ayato, the cannon fodder

although xiao is, with absolute certainty, regarded as your definite favorite celebrity in your heart, ayato comes a close second.

he's a modern day prince; if anyone were asked to say which male lead they liked best, you can guarantee their answer would be among one of his roles.

he played a lot of characters—a school heartthrob, a ceo, a bar owner, and even an actual prince for a snow white retelling. each one with stellar execution, as you'd expect from an actor of his caliber.

so it is to your absolute horror to find him casted in this production as a minor villain. the one that happens to (futilely) seduce the journalist to bed, no less!

is he asking to get his image destroyed?! which... actually does make sense. he's already been typecasted as the “prince” type of male lead, and you can guess how frustrating that can be. it must suck to play one persona over and over, mindlessly spouting recycled lines; not much room for creativity there.

but he's had different roles too, of course. one that stuck to your mind is another murder mystery, a film focusing on the death of a family head. the power struggle for the place of successor isn't a secret even to the public, and the prime suspects are primarily composed of the victim's relatives who stand to benefit from the family head's death.

ayato played the role of the first son, believed to be the one most likely to inherit the riches. which means the sooner the family head dies, he gets to have all the assets. he's suspicious due to his probable motive, but overly so that it's too obvious; ironically enough, this leads the audience to think he definitely couldn't be the killer.

except he is exactly that, but for a reason nobody would expect. rather than greed, the first son murdered his father for driving his biological mother to madness due to abuse and then sent her to a psychiatric ward, where she eventually died. he took in a second wife, a woman only after his money, who kept on pressuring her husband to make her daughter his successor.

contrary to popular belief, ayato's character didn't loathe his step-sister. in fact, he cared about her quite a bit, and his hate for his father grew whenever he scorned her for being “lacking” or “good for nothing.” his scummy personality led to his demise.

in the end, the step-mother was wrongly arrested, and the true murderer wasn't revealed until after the credits, where ayato was shown sitting at his father's desk and laughing to himself, followed by a scene detailing how the actual murder took place and how he tricked the investigators successfully.

the contrast between his acting as a shallow young master and a cunning mastermind had been praised by many. to tell the truth, you don't know how he was typecasted as a prince when he's clearly more suited for “villain” roles.

...even so, his current role isn't anything like the previous one! a cannon fodder and a genius murderer are nowhere near alike! he's only there to make the protagonist jealous and his character is fated to die one week after the scene with the journalist!

you suppose your disbelief must've shown on your face when each actor's respective role was announced because he couldn't help but chuckle when he looked at you.

“...by any chance, did you audition for the murderer role? because- it's hard to believe that-” you struggle to piece together words, rambling while ayato is busy signing his autograph on your phone case. (as luck would have it, you don't have paper on you. you said he could sign the back of your shirt but he politely declined, insisting the shirt would get dirty like you aren't planning to get it framed on your bedroom wall and declare it your heirloom.)

you don't even feel shy talking to him from the sheer incredulity of the situation. ayato only laughs as he hands you your phone case. “i did. but it turned out getting a minor role is a good thing since i'm planning to be on vacation soon.”

“oh. that's understandable, then...” barely. you still have complaints about it. as an actor, you respect the director's decisions, but as a loyal fan, you oughta give him a talking to and demand to give your idol the role he deserves.

“do you dislike it?”

your brows knit together, eyes momentarily leaving your now prized phone case to glance at him. “dislike what?” dislike that you're treated like this? that you have to act as a brainless villain? that you don't get much screentime? then fuck yeah.

“dislike that you're going to do that scene with me.” almost bashful, he leans closer to whisper to your ear. “you know. the one in the hotel.”

all the blood in your body rushes to your cheeks. impishly, ayato's lips curl into a smile of mischievous nature, a far cry from the elegant simper he usually holds. “i... that isn't what i... no, i mean it's not that i don't like you as my partner, but- but-!”

sufficiently entertained by your fumbling, he stops being mean and lightly pats the top of your head. “let's both do our best. truthfully, i'm not the most adept with bedroom scenes, but if you need help, you can always rely on me.”

rely how exactly?!

...

“is it too tight?”

“um... a little.”

“okay. is this better?”

“yes. am i too stiff?”

“mhm, a bit. you don't have to be nervous. it's just me.”

ah yes. it's just THE kamisato ayato pinning you down your bed, breathing down your neck, moments away from stealing your lips. nothing to worry about, clearly.

he adjusts his grip on your wrists, loosening it to your liking. his character is meant to push you down forcibly, but of course he doesn't want to actually harm you during filming—to prepare before the shoot, practice is of utmost importance. you have to give the illusion of an aggressive assault when in reality he's handling you like a piece of glass.

but you're doing this right after a day's work, and you have to blame your stupid mouth for running off without command and casually asking him if he could visit your apartment to go over the scene. in late hours of the night. in what can be interpreted as a much more scandalous suggestion.

thankfully, you're not dealing with childe so you're spared from wiggling eyebrows or phrases with flirty implications.

but him being ayato doesn't make it any easier.

“don't you feel embarrassed making out on screen...?” you laugh awkwardly in an attempt to ignore the weird tension in the air, slightly overwhelmed by his intense gaze. “i know you've done this several times, but i imagine the awkwardness never wears off.”

“not quite,” he agrees. “but a job is a job... i say that, but i'd like to make it comfortable for you, if possible. how are you faring? do you need a break?” he sits up, allowing more distance in the space between you. you shake your head.

“i'm fine. just... nervous. it's my first time doing a bedroom scene...” you look off to the side, staring at the lights beyond your window. though you're in the comfort of your own room, having an unfamiliar man on your bed makes it all feel so strange.

...as you thought, it really was weird to invite a co-actor to your bed! eh? would booking a hotel be better? but isn't it overboard to go to a hotel for practice? inviting him to your apartment is equally as bad, though?!

“all the cameramen watching can be pressuring,” he adds in afterthought, releasing one of your wrists only to pin them with a single hand. you flinch a little when his fingers skim over your cheek, but you slowly relax into the heat. “it's best if you try to forget about them.”

“i'm afraid that's easier said than done,” you murmur, voice growing weaker as he leans down once more.

“really? i consider myself a decent kisser.” he grins, sly and confident. “i'm certain i can keep other things off your mind for a while.”

“wh- i'm not supposed to enjoy it, remember?!” you squawk indignantly with flushed cheeks.

“oh? my bad.” he relishes in your reaction, chuckling lowly. “you'll have to work hard acting like you don't like it, then.”

his lips hover above yours, breaths mingling with each other. the proximity catches you off guard but his hand is a steady weight holding you in place, urging you to look at him.

“don't think about anyone else. just focus on me.”

五 ; scaramouche, the best friend

“fantastic. i was also looking forward to a drama adaption but you've already ruined it for me.”

“that's not nice! you're supposed to congratulate me for passing the audition!”

“my courtesy towards you has already expired 5 years ago.”

“yes. you've made that very apparent.”

“have i also made my ire apparent? it's like the universe is telling me seeing you everyday isn't enough, i have to see you on television too. frankly, we see too much of each other.”

“you say that but you're the one coming over my apartment uninvited.”

“this is where i store my beer.”

scaramouche has a perfectly functional fridge so you know he's only doing that as an excuse. he's been this way for 8 years. (of course, he'd only been storing milk at your house when you were both still underage.)

(the milk didn't do any favors for his height, unfortunately.)

his words are as harsh as ever but believe it or not, he's your closest friend. not that he'd ever admit it, even at gunpoint. it's a feat you should add to your resume, honestly, because as far as you know, you're one of the few people he doesn't hate.

he tolerates you enough that he can practice your lines with you (with enough pressure), though he delivers his part of the script with such dispassion it makes it difficult for you to get into the mood. but in his own brand of patience, he lets you reiterate your lines an endless amount of times until you feel like you get it right.

he helps you with expressions too, albeit in a manner you find hard to appreciate.

“you look like you're constipated, not about to cry.”

“your jaw is hanging open. want to catch a fly with your tongue? act like you caught your husband cheating, not like you're about to eat half my burger when you said you'd only take a bite.”

(personal grudges were involved.)

he's not interested in the film industry at all, but he was the one who pushed you to pursue your dreams when everyone else was discouraging you from taking an unstable career. he's your pillar of support; even if he's glaring at you scathingly or giving cutting words matter-of-factly, he's all bark and no bite. the moment you shed tears, he's already pulling you to his chest, remaining silent as he rubs comforting circles on your back. he doesn't even complain when you bury your face to hide in his neck, soaking his shirt with tears.

underneath all that layers, he's pretty nice.

(admittedly, you have to dig real deep.)

when you're smiling and happy, however, he takes the chance to complain. sneering, he blurts, “what's up with you taking roles in romance dramas all the time? besides, you're way too old to be in high school.”

“i still look fresh.” you batted your eyelashes at him, celebrating inwardly when he made a scandalized noise. “but i'm auditioning for a different role soon. if i get it, you'll see me as a murder victim instead of a high schooler.”

two weeks later, you get the e-mail confirming the love interest role. scaramouche goes so pale you consider taking him to the hospital.

“i know the journalist is your favorite character, but aren't you overreacting? do you hate me acting as them that much?”

he rolls his eyes so hard you almost think they're going to be permanently pointed heavenward. “are you stupid? that's not what i'm worried about. wouldn't you have to- you know- do that scene-”

“which one?”

“...the hotel scene...”

ah. well that certainly is a cause for concern. it's steamier than what you're used to; so far, you've only done light pecks or kisses that don't last too long. bedroom scenes are definitely foreign territory.

“i can only hope my partner is good-looking, then. i wouldn't mind it, if that's the case.” you laugh sheepishly, missing the way his eyes narrow in disapproval.

“...whatever. suit yourself.”

“don't tell me you still feel weird about kissing scenes?”

“i don't have issues with kissing scenes. i just don't want to see you sucking face on tv.”

“don't use that word! it's too vulgar!”

as part of work, it's inevitable you have to do a kissing scene here and there. scaramouche has never been fond of seeing them, turning away from the television or excusing himself to the bathroom whenever they come up. it's a reaction you can sympathize with; it is rather awkward to see your friend making out with someone on screen.

but he especially detests the old recording of your high school play.

long, long ago, you were part of the drama club. by association, scaramouche became a member as well—the pair of you were considered as a package deal. he was your practice partner so often that he got forced into joining.

he'd die before he ever tells anyone, but he had a knack for playing villains back then, specialized in wicked cackling and bone-chilling monologues reeking of depravity.

but in your final year, he got roped into playing the prince when the original actor sprained his ankle. incidentally, you happened to be playing the damsel in distress in your (pretty much unrecognizable) rendition of sleeping beauty.

“why is the prince shorter than-” before you could end your statement, he already slammed your face with the script.

the play was a hot mess. scaramouche couldn't play a decent prince for the life of him, so your club made the play a comedy and reworked the entire script to fit him better. the valiant and heroic character became satirical, forced into saving you not for love but to fulfill a prophecy that definitely wasn't in the original sleeping beauty.

the audience was taking the change well, intrigued by the bizarre twists and turns. the huffing-puffing prince was hilarious to watch, too.

it wasn't long before you laid in the casket, blinded by stage lights even with your eyes closed. the cardboard dragon had already been defeated, and the prince was fast approaching.

to your utter distaste, it was decided the prince would slap you awake. so you prepared for it when the last lines were being said, bracing for the stinging pain.

but then there was a rise in pitch, nearing to a yelp, then a loud thud, then the weight of two hands pressing on either side of your head, and-

your lips were touching something soft and warm.

the squeals and yells reverberated in the whole theater, the narrator stammering awkwardly and improvising ad libs last minute. your eyes snapped open and you'd gotten a front row seat to see scaramouche's blushing face, an explosion of pink dancing across his features.

after the play wrapped up and he peeled off the ridiculously frilly prince costume, he'd been set on destroying every record—alas, your friends weren't so keen on deleting such good footage. to this day, he still bristled at the thought of it; his and your first kiss showcased to hundreds of people.

it's harder to endure when he sees you kissing someone else, however. he never gets used to it, no matter how many times he tells himself to.

“oh, finally. it took so long for them to get together,” his co-worker groans as he watches the tv at the break room, airing the latest episode of the drama you star in. scaramouche glances at the screen, turning away when the camera flits to the boy with ashy brown hair. he's touching your face for the millionth time, bright teal eyes staring into yours so deeply scaramouche almost thinks he's actually besotted with you.

“you're not watching? i thought you liked this series?”

“i don't.”

for his own sake, he doesn't give the tv another glance, stepping out of the room.

this is fine. it's not the first time he's felt like this.

(it doesn't feel any less terrible.)

六 ; thoma, the former male lead

there are as many aspiring actors as there are stars in the sky; it's unfortunate only some of them shine brightly enough to be noticeable, and the rest twinkling weakly in miniscule dots.

for your case, and for your friend thoma's, you belong to the latter.

thoma is handsome, that much you can see with your own eyes, but a pretty face can be found anywhere in the industry—he lacks that special something that makes him stand out. that being said, you don't have it either, so you're on the same boat.

you're best pals, comrades in arms, partners in crime.

actual partners. once. for a romance drama.

(but not the main characters. just an obligatory side pairing, of course. you're the rebound for the second male lead.)

it was your first work, and you'd rather delete your existence than watch it again. hopefully, that also erases your dark history.

your... amateurish acting had been unsightly. the innocence you portrayed wasn't lovely, just a ghastly display of incoherent mumbling and lack of comedic timing. you wanted to tear apart each clip and toss it in some imaginary ditch where nobody can find it again.

thoma's performance wasn't as severe as yours. it wasn't half-bad, almost decent if not for the scant instances of awkwardness in scenes that required more emotional acting.

alas, the end product was just about what you expected; a series no one paid attention to. both a relief and a disappointment, because even if you hated it with every inch of your being, the effort you poured into practice and filming was real.

but after the drama ended, you kept in close contact with thoma, chugging down beer at dinners as you complained to each other about work. failed auditions, mistakes in filming, inability to get roles—you shared everything, and he did the same. each moment of embarrassment and each moment of breakthrough that called for a celebration, you told each other. through thick and thin, you had the other's back.

naturally, he was one of the first few people you called (second only to your manager) when you received the e-mail confirming your role as the love interest for arguably one of the most anticipated series to date.

he'd been overjoyed, above all, his elation overruling his surprise; it was a far cry from other violent reactions. (“are you sure it's not a prank?” scaramouche had said in disbelief.)

“you're finally going to be acknowledged!” gleefully, thoma chattered on, “that's the best news i've heard all year!”

and that was good. it was nice having his support. he'd been the one to give you a pep talk before you had to start rehearsals, soothing your fretful worries.

when you don't understand the essence of a particular scene, he's more than happy to help—“i'm just one call away!”

when you fumble your lines on camera, he laughs but not with mockery (a stark contrast to that little gremlin scaramouche)—“it's no big deal. you only have to do your best tomorrow.”

when you recount your experiences working with famous actors, he listens attentively—“you're starting to get along, huh?”

and then you would hesitate. it sounds like you're... bragging.

he says he's only one call away, but he's busy with his own work; still, he makes time for you. he listens whenever you complain, but he has bigger problems, ones that he doesn't say because he knows it'll dampen your mood. he has to hear about you acquainting with celebrities he can't even dream of meeting, like you're showing him the things he can't have.

you got lucky. what about him?

slowly, your face bleeds to commercials, advertisement banners, even huge outdoor LED displays on shopping malls featuring the drama cast—yet he remains as a blurry, nameless figure in the sea of aspiring actors.

he doesn't show it, doesn't even hint at it, but he must be... envious, right?

it's not hard to be. you've been in the industry for the same amount of time, began at the same starting line, yet only one of you found success, the other one left behind in the dust.

still. still. he never shows it. never stops being your biggest fan. never lets you think otherwise. he watches every episode, every interview. babbles how amazing your performance was in this scene. rambles how you did so well in this drama and he's so proud of you. smiles at how you have to wear a disguise now whenever you go out together so nobody can recognize you.

“it must be hard,” he comments as you hide in a secluded park, nearly getting found out by someone you noticed following you around. “you can't get around as freely anymore. are you okay? nobody follows you home or anything?”

always the worrier, you think. “of course not. my manager drives me around everywhere these days. you don't have to worry.”

thoma grins, plopping down at a bench. “that's a relief.”

for a moment, you just sit in silence, basking in the slight chilly air. the orange and pinks of sunset darken to streaks of blue, streetlights flickering to life.

“...did you know there are rumors of you dating xiao?”

you choke on air, coughing to your fist. “what?!” not that you feel flattered. not at all. (you've badgered xiao to come with you to the carnival last week, and then the waterpark a week before that with the rest of the cast, and- well. you suppose there's reason for people to speculate. you also wore matching animal headbands—how on earth you got xiao to do that, you're not sure either.)“why did that- how did it come to that?!”

“it's surprising for me, too,” thoma says. “if anything, i'd expect dating rumors with the actual male lead. or childe. he seems... particularly clingy.”

“albedo? there's no way he'd like someone like me.” you furrow your brows. if anything, it's only gotten awkward between the two of you ever since the confession scene. “ajax... well. i never know with him.” you honestly can't tell if he's flirting or not.

thoma laughs, eyes crinkling with mirth. “you look close with all of them. if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were acting a romance film outside of the project.”

you shudder. “if, and only if, i end up dating one of them, i'll attract all kinds of bad attention. it's not even good PR. i'd hate to think of all the fan girls who'll start cursing me, stealing their man and all that. hell, i'm not even dating anybody and i'm already being cursed.”

“i'll reply to every single mean comment and defend your honor.”

you snort. “do you even have the time for that?”

“...unfortunately, yes. i'm not receiving much work at the moment.”

oh.

fuck.

“i can... i can recommend you to the director. i heard he's starting a new project soon, so maybe-”

thoma frowns and you ground to a halt. “it's fine. i don't want you to do that for me.”

it sounds like you're pitying him. like you don't trust him to rise on his own.

but you want to help.

“is this why you look sad around me every so often?” he realizes, astonished.

“i... can't help but feel guilty,” you admit, unable to maintain eye contact. “every time i say a silly story about xiao, or ajax, or albedo, i feel like i'm showing off. every time i complain, you never try to compare, you only comfort me and never tell me about your problems. i want to do something for you, but i don't know what. i care about you, and i want you to do well because i know how talented you are. except everyone else doesn't, and i want them to see you.”

it's not fair. he's putting in the effort. the same as you are. but it's still not working out for him, and it's not fair.

“you... want to help me?”

you manage a weak nod. you hear an intake of breath, feel him shuffling closer. then he places his hand on top of your clenched fist.

“[name]. can you look at me?”

slowly, you raise your head. his green eyes are shining so brilliantly, bright emeralds gleaming in the moonlight.

yet they also seem... resigned.

“you're really nice, [name]. but you don't have to feel guilty. it's not your fault i'm still like this, and i'm already thankful you're worrying about me. i can't say that i was entirely... not jealous of what you have now, but that's just my problem. so you don't have to make that face, okay?”

he smiles, just like always. you open your mouth to respond, but then you feel that sensation again—that prickle at the back of your neck, the feeling that makes your hair stand on end.

“you're kind.” his hand cradles your cheek ever so softly, tenderly. your lashes tremble, like the flutter of a butterfly's wings. “that's why... i hope you can forgive me.”

this position is familiar. you know this, because you've experienced this before.

long long ago, just when you started your career, you'd practiced this scene with him in the dressing room—hearts pounding, hands awkwardly finding their places;

your lips brushing together in a shy kiss.

now, his fingers are carding through your hair, the closest he's ever been to you in years. you flinch, gripping his shirt, uncomprehending, and-

you hear it.

the shutter of a camera.

七 ; kazuha, the murderer

the first time you heard a complete newbie would act the murderer role, you were in disbelief.

alright, you were an unremarkable actor before your current role, but at the very least, you had experience. not only is this person entirely new to the industry, having nothing to show for himself, he's an amateur. it sounds like a recipe for disaster.

it's even more baffling when you discover ayato, THE kamisato ayato, tried for the role and didn't get it. who the hell is this newbie? someone who got in through nepotism? preposterous! the murderer is an incredibly important character to the plot, the whole series would be ruined if he turned out to be awful!

and then you see who he actually is, and oh boy, he does not look like a murderer.

he's more like a harmless bunny. fluffy white hair, round red eyes, a polite disposition—did you arrive at the wrong set, kid? maybe you were aiming for the high school romance drama and came here by mistake?

the webtoon murderer was no pretty boy. just an average-looking dude working at a convenience store nobody suspected to be the killer because of his unassuming looks, and that was the point. yet this eye-catching hottie is the complete opposite.

but everyone else in the cast is hot as hell, so maybe the murderer needs to be hot too so he can blend in??? director, what exactly did you have in mind?

“[name]!” just as you were staring at him, he turns and notices your gaze, expression immediately brightening. like an innocent baby chick, he walks up to you. “good morning.”

it's another day of rehearsals for the upcoming episode. so far, you haven't gotten to see his true skills yet—the most he's done is act like an ordinary extra part of the background and out of the limelight. it's understandable, since his character doesn't appear much until halfway through the series.

“kazuha,” you acknowledge him, still a little unused to his... general stickiness. you don't know what he found so appealing about you but he's taken to sticking by your side most of the time. childe has teased you more than once that perhaps the little chick has a crush on you.

“do you want to eat lunch together? i know a good fried chicken place.” so it's cannibalism now?

you agree to go anyway because fried chicken sounds great. plus, as much as you came to find that even celebrities are just regular people and you managed to befriend a lot of them, there's a sense of comfort in kazuha—he's the one you felt least intimidated by.

even if you text xiao for hours now, or come over to childe's house frequently, or go on food trips with albedo, or go clothes shopping with ayato and his sister, they're still people you can't get close to without boundaries. there's still a sense of distance separating you, one that you can't cross, but can happily do so with kazuha.

being with kazuha is just comfortable. there's never a need for formalities, and rather than co-workers, you feel closer to being friends.

sometimes, you feel as if you're babysitting though. he just... screams youth. holds the freshness of an amateur, clutching to naive hopes and wishes in the path of stardom. it's endearing to see, and it's like seeing a younger version of yourself.

it's a shame you've buried those naive wishes long ago, but you hope kazuha's career goes well for him. this drama will undoubtedly be a big boost for his popularity, but will also backlash on him if he performs horribly.

“this is my treat.” kazuha pushes the plate of chicken fingers to your side of the table, eyes shaped in smiling crescents.

you shake your head but take one nonetheless. “what kind of senior would i be to make you pay? order all you want, it's on me.”

kazuha doesn't pout but comes close to it, sulking as he bites on a piece of korean bburinkle chicken. “i can't tell if you're doing this on purpose.”

“doing what?”

“letting me off easy.”

...? this kid says some pretty strange things sometimes.

“i'll order some drinks. what do you want?” he offers, standing up.

“iced tea is fine.”

“got it.”

as he moves, his wallet drops on the floor. you're about to tell him so but you think better of it, already considering the possibility of kazuha sneakily paying for your meal on the counter and ordering drinks as an excuse.

you sigh, bending down to pick it up from the ground, but the wallet faces up, revealing the contents.

the first thing you see is your face.

you nearly jolt and hit your head on the table in shock, but you manage to suppress your surprise in a garbled mess of choking. this photo is... from that modeling gig you did a year ago. but why is it in kazuha's wallet-?!

you quickly put it back on the table, just in time for kazuha to arrive. he raises an eyebrow at your flustered expression but doesn't mention anything.

he makes a face seeing the wallet he forgot on the table. you were right after all.

later, as you return to set and practice ends after a few more hours, you recount the order of events to xiao, who could not be anymore uninterested at your entire spiel. perhaps childe would've made a more engaging conversation partner, but you'd rather not deal with his teasing right now.

“-and my face was right there! as his wallet photo! what the hell does that mean?!” years ago, you never could've guessed you'd ever be able to rant to xiao's face like this. yet here you are, unashamed in front of your idol.

“isn't it obvious?” xiao isn't even pretending like he's giving you his full attention anymore, preoccupied with the game console in his hands. “he likes you.”

“???”

xiao sighs, dead fish eyes looking straight at your clueless expression. “don't you have a photo of me in your wallet? that's the same thing.”

“that is certainly not the same thing! you're- xiao, and i'm just me. you're popular.”

xiao almost rolls his eyes. you're way too humble for someone who gets recognized by people on the street daily. “congrats, then. you met one of your rare fans.”

that was an unbelievable thought, before. you? having a fan? whenever you searched up your name, you couldn't find anyone talking about you. your character is different; you're looking for people who's interested in you as a person, not just your role.

now, though. you've accumulated enough fame for a fan club. several maybe, even.

... but even then. that modeling gig hadn't been successful. only someone who knew about it a year ago would know about it now, since it faded from the internet pretty fast.

as far as you know, you didn't have fans a year ago.

xiao makes a realization. “...isn't this the fourth time he invited you to lunch this week?”

“yeah?”

“.....isn't he just hitting on you then?”

now that's just not in the realm of possibility. xiao is so funny.

“he literally baked you cookies the other day.”

“friends give each other cookies, xiao. i can even make some for you if you want.”

“they were heart-shaped, [name].”

(you end up making him cookies to prove a point.)

days pass by, xiao giving you increasingly odd looks, and kazuha finally proves his worth in filming.

his performance rivals that of albedo's—the soft edges of his eyes sharpening into something menacing, gaze cold and apathetic, his lips downturned to an unfamiliar sneer. you're watching the birth of a star, and it's only a matter of time before his talent will be acknowledged.

he's different from ayato as a villain. ayato is cunning, the perfect example of a mastermind. malicious and dripping with spite. but kazuha looks innocent, a cute little bun you'd never guess can make those kind of facial expressions—twisted, vicious, malevolent.

it's part of the act, but you flinch when his character turns violent; kicking down doors, smashing glass windows with a bat. holding the extras acting as murder victims by grabbing them by the hair, throwing down cops like they weighed nothing.

and then right after that scene concludes with the director's “cut!”, with (fake) blood still splattered on his face, kazuha runs up to you grinning innocently, fishing for compliments. “did i do good?”

nevertheless, you give him headpats. “you're terrifying.”

he flushes, not too pleased giving that impression to you. the next day, he acts all sweet to you again, giving you a batch of cream puffs this time. xiao snorts somewhere in the background.

eventually, your manager notices the snacks you receive regularly. “oh, it's from that kid?”

“kazuha? mhm.” you nibble happily on the pastries.

your manager chuckles. “never thought i'd see him again here.”

“...what do you mean?” blinking owlishly, you pause from chowing down. “you know him?”

“he used to work at the bakery you went to often before, didn't he? the kid you kept telling to watch your first drama. you forced him to watch the episodes on your phone during his break.”

...............FUCK.

you do remember doing something that stupid. during the filming of your first drama, you frequently stopped by at a nearby bakery to buy snacks, and you remember there was a cute kid working there. you often pinched his cheeks and cajoled him into watching the series.

but when filming ended, you couldn't go to the bakery anymore. the filming location was far from your house, and the bakery was simply out of the way.

did that kid... kazuha... support you all this time? from that early on?

you curse your manager for telling you this right before filming. your mind is a mess, having trouble connecting that cute, precious child (why are you always calling him a kid, he's barely 2 years younger than you) to the smooth and flirty man today.

it's an important scene today too! the confrontation between the detective, his partner, and the murderer. it needs your complete concentration, and you just don't have it right now. you've never seen the director lose his temper, but you can probably manage to do it today.

albedo is performing well in front of the cameras as always, so much like a protagonist that you feel like you're watching from a television screen already. but you have a job to do too, so you do your best in the spotlight, pretending to be unaffected.

kazuha looks even scarier up close, so unhinged and unreadable. you know what his next move will be, written on the script, but that doesn't make you any less uneasy.

“you're bold,” kazuha drawls, playing with the knife in his hand, “coming to see me by yourselves.”

you can hear what he's saying, but it feels like your head is full of cotton. why are you so distracted? “so it really is you,” you speak, praising yourself for acting normally.

the other two exchange lines, and you thank the heavens you're mostly silent for the time being. for the meantime, you have a few moments to collect yourself; there's a chase right after this, and you'd rather not do something stupid like trip over yourself in the middle of something so serious.

...

sometimes, you're gifted with foresight.

but! to be fair! you did not trip over yourself! the staff forgot to fix the cables in one part of the set, and you tripped over those. so no. not entirely your fault.

albedo is too far away—he's on the side trying to unlock the doors with his brain powers somehow, and you're the bait distracting the murderer before he does. he can't catch you with his male lead in a romance drama reflexes now.

ordinarily, you would not trip over the cables. you have able eyes, and you could easily step over them. but you're at the stairs where darkness falls with each lower step, and wire cables don't exactly glow in the dark.

...you're at the flight of stairs. and you're about to fall over. FUCK. WHY DID THE DIRECTOR WANT A CHASE SCENE IN THE STAIRS.

you brace for the impact, hands outstretched, praying to at least save your face, but then in a complete break of character, kazuha reaches for you.

you're leaning too far to the edge now. there's no way to pull you back to even ground. kazuha grits his teeth, pulling you to his chest, and in an immense show of strength, twists around so he'd be beneath you.

you descend in a disgraceful tangle of limbs. you're enveloped in a warm embrace, cheek resting on a firm chest. a chin is tucked into the crook of your neck, heavy breaths tickling the skin of your shoulder.

heart pounding in adrenaline, you jolt back to action when the relief fades away and the panic settles back in. “your head-!” you scramble to touch kazuha's head, feeling for any bumps or even worse, blood. kazuha hisses, so you soften the touch, tracing over his body to check for other injuries. he became a literal mattress for you, and you crushed him under your weight. he looks so so frail, what if you permanently crippled him or somethi- what the hell is all this muscle?“what about your back? did you get sprained anywhere?”

“i'm fine,” kazuha wheezes under your caressing.

“you don't sound fine! who are you trying to fool? you didn't have to do that!” you grab his cheeks as you admonish him, frowning severely. they're as soft as ever, just as pinch-able as you remember—but you won't let that distract you now! that was very reckless of him!

bashfully, he averts his gaze, the cheeks beneath your palm growning warm and flushing with a pretty pink. “i'm not hurt. it's because you're... on top of me...”

you blink, glancing down at your position. at a proximity entirely inappropriate, you're hovering above him, straddling his hips and making no move to get away.

you scramble to scurry to the side, but his hands maintain their tight grip on your waist.

this kazuha is too different from two minutes ago! wasn't he just chasing you down the corridor in murderous intent?! now he's blushing underneath you, like a pure maiden you defiled!

what's with this soft, sugary atmosphere?! last time you remembered, this was a murder mystery drama!

(when the drama ends, you're casted for a romance college series with kazuha as the male lead. figures.)

5K notes · View notes

kinktae · 2 years

Text

most undesirable || (M)

Spring has sprung and engagement is on the forefront of all of Regency London's young ladies' minds. All except for yours, of course– the Queen's niece who a certain notorious author has named the Ton's most undesirable.

pairing: lord!jungkook x lady!reader

word count: 5k

genre: BRIDGERTON AU, regency era, angst, eventual smut

warnings: cocaine usage (not oc or jk), oc has dead parents

A/N: this fic was commissioned by the lovely Baby. As per her request, it features me and our beloved izzy! please do let me know if you would like a part two, i have big plans for whats to come next ;)

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PART ONE **UNEDITED**

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A word of profanity left your painted lips as the outsoles of your lace-up boots danced across the limestone floor of the palace, making haste but not in a manner that was unbecoming, your head held high despite your mood running low.

You reached the door of Her Majesty's room with purpose, hands fiddling with the satin of your dress to make sure it covered your shoes. It wasn't that you didn't appreciate the influx of garments your dear aunt had gifted you upon your arrival. Still, the heels Her Majesty had deemed in style this season were particularly uncomfortable. She would no doubt grow sour to see you parading in countryside shoes in her home.

"Your highness." One of the oldest guards snickered, his eyes flicking towards you knowingly as he and another guard moved to open the grand doors to their Queen's private quarters.

You crunched your nose, "Shh."

Of course, the guards had already read the paper… Rotten gossips.

Willing a smile onto your face, you were let into the room. Your aunt sat at her sofa, the furniture floral in design, its fabric dyed a luxurious red. Between her hands were the source of your dismay, the newest Lady Whistledown papers fresh off the press.

You hadn't had the pleasure of reading this week's issue personally, but word traveled outrageously fast in the palace; both maids and guards suckers for a good scandal. You knew quite intimately the matter of its content as you were the matter of its content.

"Ah. Niece. There you are.” The Queen called you over, setting the paper down beside her unceremoniously.

You walked closer stiffly, "Aunt Charlotte, you wished to speak to me?"

"You know I adore you, don't you? You're like a breath of fresh air in this miserably dull palace."

Your once tense shoulders relaxed instantly, taking comfort in knowing she hadn't called you in for a scolding.

"It is you that lights up every room you enter, your Majesty." You bowed your head slightly, knowing well that flattery was your best line of defense should the tides change against you.

"I do, don't I?" She agreed with a grin, before it fell off her face suddenly. "Sorry– whatever were we talking about?"

"Um–"

"Ah, yes! Well, there's no point mincing words. I'm sure you've seen it by now. I mean, can you believe it? That sorrowful sow Whistledown attempting to soil the reputation of my bloodline with such a frivolous title as… as…" She snapped her fingers, forgetting the word she was looking for.

The sound echoed throughout her enormous chambers, currently barren as your aunt was in the process of renovating.

"Ice Princess." You reminded her quietly. She tutted her tongue in recognition.

"How tactless, how tasteless! It is me who sets reputations. Not her. No, no, this simply won't do."

You watched in silence as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Remind me, darling. Why weren't you at the Danbury Ball?"

You shifted, thinking back on the excuse you had given her, "I was… ill."

It was a lie, of course. You had been feeling quite well actually when notice of the ball came 'round. But could anyone fault you? Ballrooms and gowns weren't exactly your area of expertise.

Growing up, your mother and your aunt couldn't be more different; you often heard stories of the two sisters butting heads from your grandfather. One sister went on to marry the king of England, the other a humble traveling merchant. One stood throne in England; the other lived simply in France's countryside. Despite their differences, it was no secret that your aunt loved her older sister dearly, writing to her often in hopes of convincing her to come move to England. When she learned that your mother was with child, she even went as far as to purchase land for her sister and soon to be niece.

But your mother was every bit as stubborn as she was kind. She loved her husband and the life she had built with him, staying by his side until she passed last year. Your poor father was grief-stricken; by eight months, the stress on his heart had become too much, dying nearly a year after your mother.

It was your aunt who had reached out first, offering her deepest condolences and, far more noticeably, all the money you could ever need and your very own suite in the palace.

You weren't exactly sure why you had agreed to such a lucrative proposal. You, much like your mother, adored the countryside and the small town you grew up in. And perhaps that was why you agreed, not to move in, but instead to visit. She was family, after all, something you didn't have very much of left, though you have since come to know of a cousin Friedrich, recently married to an Edwina Sharma that your aunt raved on and on about.

In the week you had been here, you had come to know far more about British aristocracy than you ever wished to know, entirely out of your element amidst the corsets and personal maids. Only recently had you managed to lower your number of attending maids to two, a far cry from the original seven you were greeted with.

You did your best to fit in, but you were no fool. You knew nothing of soireés– or how to dance for that matter, so the moment your aunt spoke of a ball, you knew you had to conjure up some excuse as to why you woefully must decline.

"Exactly! For heaven's sake, you were ill. How dare Whistledown suggest otherwise." She gestured at the staff in the room as though they were her audience.

The sound of the Queen's chamber doors being thrown stole the attention of everyone in the room. Unsurprising to you, two young maids barreling in, tripping on each other.

"S-Sorry, Your Majesty!" The blonde stuttered out.

The brunette nodded in agreement, "Our apologies, Your Majesty. We didn't know where her highness had gone–"

"–We came running as soon as we realized she had snuck off."

Isabella and Roselia. Of course. Your two personal maids. You had only just managed to shake them from your trail when you heard the news that the Queen had sent for you. You should have figured they'd inevitably catch up with you.

They were pleasant enough company, the duo were quite funny, actually, but the constant shadowing was something you learned you rather detested. You understood they were under strict orders by the Queen to ensure your every need was attended to but still… surely even nobility understood the concept of wanting to have a moment alone?

"Oh— Are we interrupting something?" Roselia's cheeks went pink, eyes running over the room as she took note of the Queen's pursed mouth. "We'll just… we can wait outside actually."

"Outside, right! We'll be just outside." Isabella chimed in, heading bowing as the brunette maid yanked her back and out of the room.

"Sorry for the intrusion!"

You stifled a snicker, watching as the young maids slipped back out of the Queen's chambers, shutting the grand doors as they went. Your aunt merely rolled her eyes at the bumbling maids.

Suddenly, her Majesty sniffed, and it was as if a switch had been flipped. All her maids ran towards her, offering handkerchiefs as if their life depended on it. You nearly laughed at such a ridiculous display of servitude, but seeing as you had spent well over a week in the palace, you had become accustomed to such theatrics.

"Whistledown is right about one thing, you know." Queen Charlotte said as her nose was blotted at. "Everyone needs to meet you. And meet you they shall."

In surprise, you pulled your eyes from the doting maids, "They shall?"

"Certainly. We shall have a ball. Here in the palace, of course."

You felt your stomach plummet into your leather-bound boots, your aunt's words echoing.

"All of London's marriage-minded ladies and lords are to be invited. We'll show Whistledown just how splendid you are. Oh! How glorious if you were to find a suitor! That certainly would put to rest that frozen title once and for all."

Just faintly, you could make out the sound of white noise buzzing, mixing with the words the Queen spoke. Anxiety flooded you, deafening your brain's attempts to self-soothe and rationalize that this wasn't the catastrophe you felt it was.

"Aunt Charlotte," you tried to swallow, but your mouth felt stripped of all moisture, "I… I'm not sure if that is wise–"

But it was as if she hadn't heard you, rambling on as if you hadn't objected, "I'll be arranging for etiquette and dance lessons since my beloved sister undoubtedly failed to do the same for you. Are you free this afternoon, darling?"

You stood for a moment, no doubt looking foolish as you struggled to get your words out, "I… I suppose I am…"

"Dear, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Are you feeling well?" The Queen cocked her head at you, eyes sizing you up with concern.

"I… I am not feeling my best." You admitted.

"That's the second time now. Growing up in the countryside— all that sun and dirt— it's made you weak of constitution. Hm. Very well. We'll wait until you're feeling better. In the meantime, I will begin planning!"

You averted your eyes politely as she bent over suddenly, inhaling a white powder off her tea tray through a nostril. She sat up with an exhale, eyes fluttering open with a smile.

"Oh, how I love having you come to stay in the palace for a change. I'm terribly bored these days, you know." She sighed. "Did you care to assist me with planning?"

Despite how you felt seconds from unearthing your already digested lunch, you managed an apologetic smile, "I'm not sure I'd be of much help. I'm afraid I've never hosted a party before."

"Yes, my dearly departed sister never cared much for such things, did she? Such a shame she raised you out of the aristocracy." She said.

A furrow found your brow.

"You're wrong, you know." You disagreed before you could think to hold your tongue. And just like that you had become a magnet, all eyes in the room snapping towards your frame.

"Oh? About?" The Queen offered you a pointed look.

"About the way I was raised. I wouldn't change a thing about it. My mother didn't fail me… she loved me. I had a mother and father who loved me. That was worth more to me than any new dress could ever." You said, gesturing to the gifted garment you adorned today, with perhaps a touch more spite than you should've.

Of two things those in the palace knew to be true. One— Her Majesty was not wrong. Ever. Her opinion was the first to seek and the only to matter. Anyone was someone because she said so, whether explicitly or subtly.

And two— her love for her niece ran deeper than even she anticipated, as watching you stand before her defiantly didn't fill her with rage as the staff in the room assumed, but rather with melancholy.

You looked like your mother just then. It seemed you reminded her of her sister more and more as the days rolled by.

"Your mother would be pleased to hear that." She merely replied, wondering if her sister might be looking down on you both at this moment. At her words, your entire demeanor softened.

"Very well. Off you go." Your Queen sniffed, a handkerchief at her nose within seconds.

Bowing, you moved to exit the room.

"And niece," she called one last time, causing you to turn around, "must you wear such unsightly footwear under your dress?"

You felt your face grow hot, muttering a quiet apology before exiting the room altogether.

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"Chin up, darling." Your aunt reminded you.

You followed her instructions coolly, hoping you didn't look nearly as nervous as you felt.

It was undoubtedly a soirée for the books; every square inch of the ballroom was gilded in gold, the chandeliers' gleam diffusing luxuriously as it bounced around the room.

Eligible men and women of all shapes and sizes had come from far and wide, donned in their absolute best; every possible hue of pink, blue and purple on display for Her Majesty. The ballroom looked akin to the royal grounds, you thought; the cool-toned dresses reminding you of upside-down bellflowers, floating across the marble floor in a synchronized dance.

Flocks of the most noticeable families and town figures had swarmed their way to the royal estate, drowning themselves in champagne as corseted woman fluttered their eyes at the Ton's lords.

But despite their poised smiles, neither woman nor man spared you more than a cautious glance and courteous bow. As the hours ticked by, you couldn't help but feel increasingly uneasy. Was it fear of Her Majesty sitting beside you that kept them away from you? Or was it the less than auspicious picture a certain faceless author had painted for them about you?

"It's rather hot in here, wouldn't you say?" The Queen spoke to you suddenly, looking larger than life from her magnificent throne.

"I suppose." You agreed absentmindedly, far too occupied with how a group of ladies' eyes flickered your way.

She continued, "Perhaps some champagne will cool you down. Why don't you fetch yourself a glass, dear?"

The meaning behind her words was clear. Go. Socialize.

"A splendid idea." You concurred.

Granting yourself one final shaky breath, you straightened up, walking towards the table where drinks were being freshly poured.

"What shall it be, my lady?" A servant greeted you politely as you reached it.

"A glass of champagne, please." You smiled, grateful for a friendly face, perhaps the first of the night.

The servant nodded, moving to open a new bottle.

"She doesn't even hold a title, you know. That Ice Princess."

You blinked, growing still as your ears caught wind of a conversation between party goers not far from you.

"But she's the Queen's niece?"

A sinking feeling washed over you, the kind that made all the other noise in the room disappear. You flirted briefly with abandoning your spot in the room altogether, but the bubbling pour of golden liquid into a glass kept you still. You thanked the servant with a halfhearted smile.

Bringing the glass to your mouth, you turned an ear to the three gossiping ladies, careful to avoid their gaze.

"Word has it her mother married out of the aristocracy." One of them babbled, pulling noises of disbelief from the others.

"Pity. Though, I suppose that explains the appalling way she walks in heels. You'd think she grew hooves from all that time she spent in the countryside." Another prattled. Stifled giggles rang around the group like they were all in some sort of secret, one that wasn't theirs to know. "Can you believe she thinks herself better than us?"

"One more glass, if you please." You asked the same servant, quickly making your way back to the Queen, now with a glass in either hand.

You approached her wordlessly, merely offering her a glass.

"Ah." She accepted the drink eagerly, and for a moment, there was silence, the two family members enjoying the cool velvety acidity of what was no doubt costly champagne.

"It appears the Ton thinks poorly of me." You blurted out.

You felt rather foolish telling this to your aunt. It wasn't as if you really cared what three cankerous aristocrats thought of you. But who else were you to tell? You knew no one.

Your Aunt Charlotte furrowed her delicately painted brow, "Darling, it'll do you well to realize that this Ton doesn't think. They merely reiterate what they've been told. They don't know you. Never mind what they think they know."

But her words went in one ear and out the other, merely background noise to the way you suddenly felt all eyes on you.

And suddenly, your dress was too tight, the ballroom too small. You felt your breath grow shallow, a sure sign of panic. How may others deemed you the subject of gossip tonight? What else were they saying about you?

"I think I should step out for a moment." You muttered.

"Take your maids with you!"

You were halfway across the room before you could even think to register your aunt's reply. Blinking away your tears, you pushed yourself through the crowd, muttering absentminded apologies as partygoers scoffed in protest.

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How small you felt sitting alone in the palace's rose gardens. You wept on a stone bench, wishing ever so badly that your mother was here, looking back with sorrow at how she used to pull you into her lap whenever you were upset. How she used to wrap her arms around you, and everything seemed better, if even for a moment.

How you missed her. How you missed your father. How you missed your life away from this shining, hollow palace.

But they were gone, and the simple life that awaited you back home was gone. Aunt Charlotte was all the family you had left. Without your parents, your home was gone.

"Oh! My lady… forgive me!"

A soft voice caused you to gasp, turning to face the man that had walked in on your self wallowing.

You were up on your feet in seconds, wiping away at your face.

"No… no, it is I who should apologize! I'm sorry you had to see me like that." Your cheeks burned.

"See you like what?" The mysterious raven-haired stranger pressed, a note of cheekiness to his tone. "Human? Heaven forbid."

You laughed gently, sniffling away your shame. You knew at once he was no threat to you.

The young lord wasn't exactly sure what had led him to the palace gardens; most of the event seemed to be taking place indoors as the night nipped and chilled unforgivingly. Still, a few stray bodies mingled underneath the string of lights that the palace servants had strung up. He had briefly greeted them, passing through the clouds of cigar smoke and small talk before bounding down limestone stairs.

He had tucked his hands into his pants pockets, sighing as the night's festivities grew quieter the further he slipped away, the crunch of wet grass kissing the underneath of his dress shoes. His mind was heavy with thoughts, hardly noticing where his legs had taken him.

It was the sound of your cries that pulled him from his thoughts and jerked him back to his senses.

He was in the Queen's rose garden; he immediately recognized the vibrant flowers and tall bushes. What he failed to recognize, however, was the weeping girl sitting on a stone bench, a look of embarrassment written plainly on her pretty face as she realized she was not alone.

He was quite handsome, you noticed despite your humiliation. He was younger than most of the lords inside, his face still featuring a certain softness despite his sharp features. His gaze was inherently kind, his warm brown eyes all but beckoning you to lower your guards.

"Lord Jeon.” He introduced himself with a bow, eyes never leaving yours. "Forgive me if I frightened you, my lady. I shall return at once and grant you your privacy."

You sank back down onto the bench, pulling the shawl wrapped around your shoulders closer. Your dress was beautiful— you were beautiful… puffy eyes, smeared makeup and all. He couldn't imagine why a lady like yourself would be weeping in the rose gardens unattended.

"It's alright. I supposed I'm not the only introvert at this party tonight. The garden is big enough for the two of us."

Lord Jeon shrugged, "A bit of fresh air is good for the soul."

You watched cautiously as he walked closer, sitting beside you on the opposite side of the bench.

"You know… I've been told I'm a decent listener." He said suddenly, brown eyes admiring the roses surrounding you.

You blinked, "Is that so?"

"Well… not explicitly. But I've got two ears, so I'd say I do alright." He teased.

You smiled softly, contemplating how much to reveal to this stranger.

"It's… I suppose I'm just a bit out of my element here."

"You?" He seemed surprised, a slight chuckle of disbelief accompanying his question.

"You laughed." You raised a brow.

He bit down on his lower lip as if contemplating his following words.

"Well, it's just… I can't imagine someone like you having trouble at these events." He confessed.

For a moment, you wondered what he could mean. Looking down at your lap, you realized he must be referring to your extraordinarily fanciful garments.

"Ah. These clothes were a gift, and this hair— well, none of this is me. Not really. Truly, I don't know why I came." You sighed.

He nodded, "Beginning to feel that way myself, actually. Most lose interest when they hear my name. I'm a bit of a nobody, it seems."

"Funny. It would appear you and I have the opposite problem." You nearly laughed.

"Uptown girl, are you?"

"I'm afraid I've got a bit of a reputation. And no one cares to know whether it's true or not." You said.

He let out a sigh.

"Terrible soirée full of terrible people. I can't say that doesn't happen here often."

You let his words hang in the night's cold air, your fingers intertwining themselves across your lap.

"Is that all?"

Your head turned to face him, growing warm to find him already looking at you.

"Forgive me, it's just," he continued, "your sadness… it feels heavier than you're letting on."

He watched as your body language changed, suddenly tense as if you had built your walls back up.

He was back up on his feet within seconds, his shoes coming into view by the bottom of your dress as he stood in front of you.

Swallowing down a sob, you allowed yourself to look up at him.

"May I?" He asked, extending a hand out as if wanting yours.

Hesitantly, you gave it to him, assuming you would be ushered back onto your feet. To your surprise, however, he merely flipped your hand over, your palm now facing the night sky.

Your eyes widened as he took a finger and traced a line onto your palm.

No. Not A line. A letter.

L-O-V-E-R-?

He wrote into your palm. You stared at your hand, skin still buzzing faintly from where his finger had run across.

His mother used to do such a thing when he was younger and much angrier, often struggling to say the words when something troubled him. He only hoped it would work for you the way he had for him.

Frowning, you shook your head. He wrote once again.

F-A-M-I-L-Y-?

A tear fell from you as if instinctively. You nodded your head, confirming his suspicions. Spurred on by his touch, you moved to grab his hand, flipping it upside down as he had done to yours.

L-O-N-E-L-Y you wrote.

"… I just wish I had a little bit longer with them." You found yourself saying once you had finished.

"No time is enough when it comes to the people you love." He spoke with heart as if referring to his own personal melancholy.

Another tear fell from your eyes as his thumb ran over your palm, not to spell anything but to offer his condolences.

"No. I suppose not." You sniffed, a shiver running over you as a crisp breeze passed the two of you.

He wrote into your palm again.

C-O-L-D-?

You let out a laugh, shrugging dismissively.

"Here." Lord Jeon suddenly peeled his suit jacket off his shoulders. You froze, stunned silent as he gently draped it over your shoulders, a gentle smile on his face.

Your chest tightened, moved by the gesture of kindness. But before you could think to thank him, his warm fingers were at your palm once more.

F-R-I-E-N-D-?

His smile tugged at your heartstrings. You wondered how anyone inside could possibly look down on him. You didn't need to know his name to see that he was kind, a worthy suitor for any marriage-minded aristocrat.

F-R-I-E-N-D. You wrote back.

Happy was the girl who sat on the cement bench of the palace's rose garden, wrapped up warm under the jacket of the first person to show you genuine, unconditional kindness since arriving weeks ago.

The two strangers sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the quiet of company. Neither of you knew the other, but there was comfort in the silhouettes of the adjacent shadows at your feet, knowing that neither had ill intent towards the other.

"Do you ever wonder what it might be like to live in a palace?"

You fell stiff, mute as you turned towards him, watching how he looked over at the illuminated estate.

"Lonely."

"You think?" He pondered.

"I'm not fond of big empty rooms. They tend to make me feel small." You explained quietly.

"Well, should I ever have a palace, there would be no empty rooms. Every room with music and the sound of children's laughter. I would decree it so."

"Children? And where do you figure you might obtain those?" You chuckled.

"Well, they'd be mine, of course." He grinned lopsidedly.

You grinned back at him. "Then the happiest of children they would be."

You suppose the young lord reminded you somewhat of a child. He was a man by every definition of the word, standing tall and proud, but there was something about the way his large eyes took in the palace that was decidedly childlike. Eyes wide and glimmering with awe.

You watched contently as he suddenly noticed the silver plated container that sat by the leg of the bench; an unopened bottle of champagne sat neatly in a bed of ice, several glasses along side it.

Your dear aunt thought of everything when it came to party planning, you were coming to find out.

"Shall we?" He smirked suggestively.

"I don't see why not." You laughed.

The two of you giggled as he attempted to open the bottle, champagne spilling everywhere. He tried to pour you a glass neatly, but your new friend had no future in bartending, champagne spilling over the glass' edge and onto your fingers.

Sticky but smiling, you brought your glass up, mirroring him.

"A toast." He decided, his own glass now only half full from his carelessness.

"To?" You questioned.

He contemplated for a moment, meeting your inquisitive eyes innocently. A boyish smile broke out across his face.

"To us, of course. Tonight's most undesirables." He declared, making you chuckle.

But before you could touch glasses…

"Your highness!"

Your eyes went wide, your stomach dropping as a certain blond maid came scrambling into the garden.

"Isabella! Please! Just 'my lady' will do." Heat rocketed up your neck, ears no doubt hot to the touch.

Her hands fell to her knees, clearly out of breath from running around the palace grounds, undoubtedly in search of you.

"My lady, I should advise you to return to the party. Her Majesty the Queen has someone she wants you to meet." She cautioned.

You cursed internally.

"Of course, she does. Give me just a moment then. I'll be over shortly."

The young maid's eyes flickered over to Lord Jeon, cheeks rosy.

"But your highness—"

"Thank you, Isabella." You cut her off curtly.

The young maid gave you two one more final look over before nodded, pardoning herself with a curtesy.

Hesitantly, you turned back towards Lord Jeon, unsure what to make of the look of disbelief clearly written across his face.

Awkwardly, you brought your glass to your mouth, taking a cautious sip.

"Your highness? You're a princess?" He gawked, eyes still wide.

"No!" You quipped. "Not… technically?"

The young lord merely blinked at you, his doe eyes telling you everything his mouth wasn't.

You were rambling before you could help yourself.

"M-My mother is the Queen's sister. Technically speaking, she held the title of 'Princess.' Though, I suppose if my mother were born a man then, yes, that would make me a princess— titles are patriarchal in nature, it's all… very complicated, really…"

You felt like you couldn't take in a deep enough breath, the chilly air now burning your lungs.

"So… not a princess. Just… daughter of a princess." He reiterated, clearly stunned.

You felt a frown form on your face, all your etiquette instructor's reminders of poise and manners slipping from your mind.

"I am the Queen's niece. We shall leave it at that."

The handsome lord had the most fascinated look on his face, eyes locked on the way your jaw twitched, mouth shut rigidly to hold back the slew of word vomit you instinctively felt compelled to let out.

The way he held your eyes – the intensity behind his dark orbs – made you uneasy yet engrossed you all the same.

You bit down on the side of your cheek, "Are you upset that I didn't tell you?"

He shook his head suddenly as if trying to shake off his shock.

"No. I'm not."

"Are you… disappointed?" You grimaced.

You hadn't the faintest clue as to what was running around in his handsome head.

"Disappointed?" He cocked his head.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what the hell you're thinking right now, and it's frankly unnerving." You frowned.

The raven-haired man let out a noise that toed the line between amusement and disbelief.

"I think you owe me a toast… your highness." He teased.

Rolling your eyes, you failed to fight back a smile, bringing your champagne glass up to meet his, his smirk assuring you that whoever your aunt wished you to meet could wait a moment or two.

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keerysfreckles · 3 months

Text

august — cam cameron

pairing: cam cameron x fem!reader

summary: y/n has a summer job at the cousins bakery. cam cameron likes to find excuses to buy muffins every day.

warnings: none? just a long fic (i got carried away oopsies)

a/n: already rewatching tsitp and i finished it this week I LOVE IT SO MUCH FJSHJDHSH

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

cousins beach was so surreal in the summertime. it was the busiest time of the year for the small town. the beaches were crowded and the boardwalk never slept.

everyone practically knew everyone. that's what y/n might have loved most about it. besides her close friend isabel conklin of course.

the girls met in the summer of 2017 when y/n's family started driving three hours to their newly bought beach house. it was in the same neighborhood as the beck house, meaning y/n and belly quickly became friends. belly always invited y/n over, and grew fondly of conrad and jeremiah fisher. she eventually learned to enjoy steven's presence as well.

the two girls have been inseparable since. every summer you'd find them attached at the hip, with conrad, jeremiah and steven following behind.

this summer however was different. not for belly though, she was still just as obsessed with the older fisher brother. the summer was already different for y/n. her father made the decision for the girl to get a summer job. her mother wasn't too thrilled with the idea, just wanting her daughter to have a memorable summer. but after officially getting hired at the local bakery, y/n didn't mind.

she's always loved going to the bakery. it was almost tradition for her mother to buy a pie to bring to susannah's fourth of july parties. y/n always begged for the double chocolate chip muffins before they left at the beginning of august. nine out of ten times she left with a smile on her face and a muffin in her hands.

the first week of work went smoothly for y/n. belly stopped by everyday to check on her. jeremiah went with her one morning for a muffin run, and conrad went with her once to buy chocolate chip cookies to cheer up a very upset steven.

two new faces came into the bakery with belly and the fisher brothers. conrad and jeremiah immediately went to the small stand with different flavors of cupcakes. belly walked up to the counter, with the two newcomers trailing behind her.

"hey bells," y/n smiles, leaning against the cold counter.

"hi," she smiles back, "i just had to bring everyone here for the best muffins in the whole wide world."

belly gestures to the two friends behind her. the girl to her right has dirty blonde hair, with thick mascara covering her eyelashes.

"this is taylor," taylor waves.

the boy to her left has brown curly hair, with darker skin than belly's, and y/n can't help but smile when be does.

"and this is cam," belly pushes him forward a bit.

"it's cam cameron actually!" jeremiah interrupts from the other side of the small store.

y/n can't help bit giggle, "cam cameron?"

"yeah, cam or uh- cameron works just as well."

y/n sends him one last smile before turning back towards belly, "so i'm guessing you didn't just come in here to chat?"

belly shakes her head and gives y/n the muffin order, including steven's request who was busy with his summer job at the pool as a server.

y/n was quick to pack the 7 muffins in a box before handing them to belly. she walked over to conrad after paying, with taylor following behind. cam sent a wave to y/n, which she happily reciprocated, before watching them walk out of the store.

—

the next day at the bakery was quite boring for y/n. an older couple came in and ordered a cake, and a family of four ordered a dozen muffins. y/n was in the middle of cleaning and rewriting on one of the chalkboards on the wall when the bell above the door rang.

"oh hey cam cameron!" y/n turned to see the curly headed boy from yesterday.

he smiled at the name, not hating it when it came out of her mouth.

"what can i do for you?" she sets down the chalk and walks behind the counter. cam follows as he stands on the opposite side.

he gives her his order, which was one blueberry muffin for himself to enjoy. she slides the small bag across the counter, but cam doesn't want to leave the store just yet.

"seeing as you're not busy," cam chuckles as he looks around the store, "do you mind if i keep you company?"

y/n instantly shakes her head, "no, no not at all. i'd actually love that today. it's been so slow."

cam nods, "yeah i saw the boardwalk was pretty busy on the way over here."

the pair talked for over an hour, when to both of them it only felt like ten minutes. y/n couldn't keep her smile off her face when he was around.

cam pauses in the middle of his story when his phone buzzes from his pocket. "shoot," he sighs, "my mom wants me home for lunch."

cam grabs his bag before walking towards the door, "i'll see you!"

y/n smiles and waves, "bye cam cameron."

for the rest of her shift y/n couldn't stop thinking about cam. their conversation earlier ranged from their favorite foods, to cam's love for marine biology, and even to y/n's hidden talent of being a boss at karaoke (belly's words, not hers.)

—

a week had passed and cam stopped by the bakery every day. his order varied from muffins, to cupcakes, to cookies. cam accidentally admitted to the girl he visited her to keep her company. it absolutely warmed her heart and a giggle fell from her lips.

y/n practically skipped out of the bakery and towards her yellow bike. she knew she'd call belly as soon as she got home to tell her what happened with cam today.

the phone rang once, then twice, then belly answered.

"hi y/n! what's up?"

"i may need some girl advice bells."

"i'm sorry?" belly's instantly confused by y/n's words.

y/n groans, not knowing how to word her feelings, "can you just come over? it'll be easier to explain."

not even five minutes after hanging up, belly's knocking on the pale blue door of y/n's parent's beach house.

"cam cameron asked me on a date," y/n was quick to the point once the two girls got to her room.

belly squealed, before asking a million questions. y/n happily answered them all, knowing belly was truly excited for her.

y/n explained to belly that cam asked her right before she left to go home after her shift at the bakery. the sun was setting, and cam was worried he'd miss her if he didn't jog the second half of the route from his house towards the bakery. she found it cute as he seemed more nervous around her today than any other day last week.

cam took a deep breath before asking y/n if she wanted to go to the boardwalk with him. with a bright smile the girl agreed.

which leads to her predicament, of not knowing weather or not cam cameron meant it as a date or not.

"he asked you personally, so obviously it's a date y/n," belly was looking through y/n's closet as the ladder layed on her unmade bed.

"but what if he just sees it as two friends hanging out?" y/n rebuttals.

belly doesn't answer, but instead she comes out with a navy blue corset type of tank top, and grabs the pair of shorts she found in y/n's dresser moments ago.

she holds the articles of clothing together, "because how can he see you as a friend if he sees you in this!"

both girls fall into a fit of giggles before you eventually get ready. y/n still had thirty minutes or so until cam was picking her up, so belly insisted on helping with the rest of the look.

she kept her hair natural, from it already being styled for work earlier in the day. she threw all her jewelry back on, considering she can't wear any at work. y/n always wore two necklaces, five rings (three on her left hand, two on the right), and a handful of bracelets adorned both her wrists.

belly helped with her mascara and lip gloss.

with one last look in her mirror, y/n and belly both giggled as a knock echoed through the whole house.

cam cameron was never speechless, but when he saw y/n standing in front of him words weren't even a thought.

"hi cam," she giggles.

"hey- hey y/n, you look great."

belly not-so-subtley squeezes her way between y/n and the door, greeting cam before she ran back to her own house.

cam and y/n started walking towards the boardwalk. the sun was still in the phase of setting. hues of orange, yellow and pink filled the sky with a couple of clouds.

the walk to the boardwalk wasn't the shortest, but y/n loved the amount of time she's able to spend with cam. they didn't stop talking the whole way there.

cam observed the girl, and noticed the small wrinkles around y/n's eyes when she laughed. he saw her fiddle with the ring on her thumb when she listened to him talk. he loved how excited she got talking about all her favorite rides at the boardwalk.

y/n wasn't the observant type, but cam was the only exception. her heart sped up when his smile got bigger as he talked about marine biology. he loved everything about whales. she noticed during the week, when he got nervous he runs his hand through his hair. he does the same motion as the two finally walk into the buzzing atmosphere of the boardwalk.

"so, what do you want to do first?" cam politely asks.

y/n can't help but giggle again, before grabbing onto his hand, "i have an idea." she simply grabs cam's hand and pulls him towards one of the many games.

—

y/n never thought her favorite night of summer would be with a boy she just met this year.

her and cam played almost every game on the boardwalk. y/n won most of them, but when cam beat her at ring toss, he gave her the purple stuffed giraffe, which she didn't dare loosen her grip on it for the rest of the night.

after games, the two sat down on a bench to eat. y/n had a massive plate of chilli cheese fries while cam had funnel cake. y/n wasn't one to question his choice, as he explained he ate an early dinner before he picked her up.

after eating they went into the arcade for a little over an hour. they walked out and the sky was now dark, with a million stars reflecting off the ocean.

now y/n and cam were walking side by side at the other end of the boardwalk. they were near the railing, away from all the games and bright lights, making it more quiet.

"i had a lot of fun tonight cam," y/n's smile hasn't left her face all day, and doesn't falter when she thanks him.

"me too, i'm glad you were able to come."

for a few moments it was quiet between the two. their hands kept brushing into each other's. y/n could feel the warmth radiating off of his hand, she couldn't help but slowly interlock her pinky with his.

"do you mind if we sit?" y/n points to a bench maybe ten feet away, "all the walking is finally catching up to me."

of course cam says yes. they sit beside each other on the cold bench, with the purple giraffe sitting lopsided by y/n's feet.

"are you not cold?" cam asks, suddenly remembering y/n was outside in only a tank top and shorts.

y/n shakes her head, "no uh- not really. i like the cold."

cam tilts his head towards her, "you sure? cause i could easily go to the gift shop for you."

y/n giggles at how sweet cam is, "really, i'm okay cam."

"do you know what you're gonna name it?" cam gestures to the giraffe he won for her earlier in the evening.

y/n shrugs, "i haven't really thought about it yet," she picks up the giraffe and studies it, "what about muffin?"

cam lets out a chuckle, "it's perfect."

a cool ocean breeze blows through the boardwalk. once it reaches y/n and cam, the girl shivers and subconsciously moves closer to cam. his cheeks flush slightly at the contact of her thigh pressing against his, and her shoulder bumping against his own.

"you sure about you not being cold?" cam laughs.

"okay, maybe it's a little cold now," y/n laughs with him.

silently, cam holds his hand open. y/n takes it, and a warm electric feeling flows through her body. cam's hand was shockingly warm, which was a great contrast to y/n's cold skin.

—

sadly, the fun night cam had planned for the pair had to come to an end. their hands never left each other's grip as cam walked y/n back to her house. once again, the two talked the whole way back.

y/n sighed once they reached the cobblestone driveway of her house. cam walked her up the steps of her porch, now turning to the girl once they reached the door.

"thank you for today cam," y/n thanked him again.

"i'm glad you had a good time," cam smiled down at the girl.

y/n smiled before leaning up to kiss the boy's cheek. her lips lingered there for a moment. just as she was about to unlock the front door, cam's voice stopped her.

"you missed."

y/n's eyesbrows furrowed.

"you missed," cam repeated.

before y/n can respond, cam grabs her hand again to pull her in front of him. he smiles before pushing his lips softly against y/n's. the kiss lasts for a few seconds before the girl pulls away. her cheeks are pink and her cold skin is suddenly warm.

"i really like you y/n," cam's voice is quiet, afraid to break the moment the two just shared.

to respond, y/n leans up to kiss cam again. this time one of her hands goes to his cheek to make the kiss become deeper. cam smiles against her lips, as his hold on her waist never falters.

this was the first of many dates for cam and y/n, and she loved every single one of them.

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