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#It's a really beautiful book and I hope everyone considers reading it
solbaby7 · 3 months
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Wanting You, Wanting Me
pairing: azriel x reader
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based off an anonymous request- got carried away but I tried to stay within the guidelines; this was actually a really cute concept
warnings: angst at first but it gets fluffy towards the end, swearing, jealousy, mutual pining, mentions of nightmares, sleep deprivation, probably some typos
summary: Silent yearning only remains silent for so long when you suspect your crush likes your best friend instead
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Elaine was like flowers budding in the Spring; new and fresh, full of promise and beauty. She was kind and caring, compassionate and soft-spoken, dainty and slender—all the pretty things that males loved in women.
Or maybe it was just her.
Because you were fairly new and fresh too; just barely in your twenties and full on the idea of life and love and everything in between. Maybe you weren’t as kind, not as nice or welcoming; you didn’t always have the right words and in lou of sounding stupid or making a fool of yourself, you stayed quiet.
Watching; observing, learning the family around you as you navigated your place in it. Everyone already had their role; playing their parts as if they’d been trained their whole lives for it and even Feyre and her sisters had fallen into a steady rhythm after the Cauldron. But with all the new additions, couples pairing up and friendships pre-established a hundred years before you were even a thought—your place there seemed less clear.
Especially since Azriel had started paying such special attention to Elaine and her annoyingly beautiful garden and the plants that seemed to thrive tenfold at the mere sight of her.
You didn't mind at first; the three of you falling into a steady rhythm of hanging out together, taking walks and sharing stories but somewhere along the lines he stopped looking at you when he'd laugh. Envy builds for a woman too kind to deserve it and it makes you feel even worse--masking your distaste with soft smiles that you hoped looked as welcoming as hers.
You can’t even help the turn your thoughts take but no matter how much envy fills you; there’s not one con that presents itself when regarding her.
It becomes subconscious, the way you mimic her; fixing your posture, hands reaching to push back strands of hair and smoothen out the fabric that the soft curve of your stomach. Silently nitpicking parts of you that you’d never considered wrong before but that had to be when everything Elaine had got was so right.
He walks in like you’ve summoned him, steps silent and sure. “You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” You mutter a beat too late, only realizing he was regarding you when you’d finally glanced up over the book in your hands.
You’re acutely aware of his every move, the radiating warmth of his body contrasted by the cool kiss of his shadows sifting through your hair when he leans over the back of the couch. The smell of his soap reaches your nose when he leans in, hazel eyes skimming over the pages you're reading and you thank the good Mother above that you’d gotten past the naughty scene three pages ago; where the good guy who pretends to be bad slides his fingers between the maidens thighs, urging her to be silent as he worked her over through her clothes while being surrounded by a whole camp full of males and a looming threat lingering somewhere in the trees. “Bad dreams again?”
You pray he doesn’t catch the slight uptick of your heart rate, the closeness forcing your body to react without permission and it takes great effort not to tear the delicate pages under the pressure of your fingers alone. “Something like that,” You grit out, reminded of the nightmares that assaulted your slumber; the sight of Elaine and Azriel—kissing. Enough to rip you awake and force you to empty all of your stomach contents; you’d just barely made it to the bathing chambers, hairs sticking to your cheeks and nightgown damp with sweat as you leaned into the toilet.
You still hadn’t been able to keep anything down; stomach too unsettled and brain spiraling enough to distract away any signs of hunger.
“She’s been getting them all week,” Elaine softly adds, fingers busy with her knitting needles and yarn; a new blanket for you to add to the giant collection neatly folded your closet. “—won’t drink the tea I made for it though.”
“Because the tea makes them worse and then I wake up from them with my body still paralyzed,” You’re quick to say, familiar with your best friends tactics in divulging important information to the shadowsinger to ensure you actually did something about it—that you took care of yourself. “I’ll happily keep just the bad dreams.”
Azriel's not even looking at you anymore though, already rounding the couch to sit beside Elaine, ball of yarn rolling between them and you can’t help but stare. “Tell me more about this tea?”
“I make it from the plants in the garden,” She points at the window behind them, pale green yarn still wrapped around her finger. “Camomile and ginseng and usually it helps but she just reacts to it differently.”
Azriel hums and you hate the way the words make you feel; like there was another thing setting you apart from the others and this perfect life that didn’t seem capable enough to hold room for all of your imperfections. You don’t wait to hear anymore, steps light and hands quick to stick your bookmark in place and collect your tea cup before you’re gone and down the hall; tears burning in your waterline.
Because, you were sure that if you had to sit there and watch them a second longer you were going to scream.
Scream at Elaine for being so sweet and gentle; so knowledgeable and helpful and certain that it was you that was the issue and not her stupid herbs grown in her stupid garden. You wanted to scream at Azriel until you were blue in the face, listing off every single thing you've ever done to show that the thing between you was way more than just friends. How he was everything and you know that maybe you weren't perfectly skinny like Elaine was but you'd always found great beauty in things that were different.
You can’t tell if you’re happy or not that no one comes to check on you the whole four hours it takes for you to relax; binging the entirety of a book until you were too focused on someone else's life to focus on your own and only once you'd finished the book in it's entirety were you forced to leave the room in search for the one that followed.
The library is empty when you enter, only a few lights still burned and you’re already murmuring soft words to yourself while you search around for what your looking for, fingers bumping over the slides of books; their engraved titles all unique and beautiful and probably interesting but still not quite right. It takes some time but you’re certain you’ve found it, a few rows higher than you can reach but it’s easy to drag over a chair for assistance. "Come on," You mutter, nose scrunching with strain as the tips of two fingers graze the burgundy spine. You’re prepared to jump and pray the chair doesn’t collapse beneath you when the book simply slides out and floats down to you, cool shadows twirling up the length of your arm as if to stabilize you as you step down. “I didn’t need help,” You grumble without looking at your savior, the weight of the book now in your palm and excitement swirls at the thought of more.
“You never do.”
You don’t mean to be so snappy but the sleep deprivation takes a toll and it was becoming harder to distinguish truth from dream; your brain always stuck on his mouth leaning in for Elaine’s and the anger that ensues is all consuming. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Azriel shrugs, sighing as if he knows how this conversation will end and in no way will he ever come out on top. “I don’t know—just don’t get why you wouldn’t have told me you haven’t been sleeping.”
“Because, Az, what would you have done? Help Elaine make me tea’s? No, thanks.”
Confusion spreads on handsome features, hazel eyes fierce even with his lids lowered. “What does Elaine have to do with any of this? Because she told me?”
The breath you let out is heavy, defeat settling in once you realize the hole you’d been digging yourself and it’s a struggle to heave yourself out and drag the chair back to its original spot but Azriel’s there in seconds. He’s quiet; waiting for an answer as he takes it from your hands. “No,” You concede, all fight leaving when it was a one-sided battle. “She doesn’t have anything to do with it. It’s fine—I’m just tired.”
“Then sleep,” He urges softly. “I’ll stay with you.”
“I can’t.”
You can’t even focus on the words of your page under his stare. You’ve read the first line six times over and you still haven’t fully processed it. The thought of him being nearby as you slept, the thought of his eyes on your body in nothing but a nightgown and your hair free from all its carefully done braids. “Can you tell me what you’ve been dreaming about?”
His brows raise when you suck in a sharp breath, cheeks flinching at the suggestion and you shut the book altogether. “I’d really rather not.”
“What’s so bad you can’t tell me about it?" Azriel's hand covers your own, voice so soft it hurt. "You tell me everything.”
Your heart thumps so hard in your chest you can hear it in your ears, your free fingers fumbling against the other under the table and you can't refrain from the nervous chuckle that pulls free. There's a second where you want to just tell him; to confess your feelings and how much you loved the way he was looking at you but fucking hated how you knew that look wouldn't stay if Elaine walked in. The reminder of her alone makes your body deflate, gaze going far off and Azriel's concern only grows when you stay quiet too long to be normal.
The cool touch of a shadow grazing your cheek pulls you out of it. "I suppose this just isn't worth telling."
It's not the answer he wanted, that much is clear by the frown that tugs on full lips, the wings that tuck in tighter and you want nothing more than to give him everything he'd wanted and more to get his face to stop looking at you like that but before you can say another word, another person enters. "Sorry to interrupt, I was just looking for you.
His eyes instantly go to her, hand pulling away from your own and attitude seeps out when you regard her. "Well, you found me."
Elaine's eyes bounce between you and Azriel as if she could feel the tension in the room that held so thick you could cut it with a knife. Her voice is hesitant when she begins, a steaming pot held in hands covered by thick oven mitts. "I made a new recipe for the tea," You don't even hear the carefully curated list of herbs she rattles off, informing their uses and how well they work together but you can't stop shaking; chest tightening at the way Azriel watches Elaine gracefully flit about the room and you can't stop thinking about how quickly he pulled away his hand. "It's really strong so you can't have too much but the madja said that it would help with the sleeping and the paralysis."
You couldn't of cared less, snatching the kettle from her grasp and in your anger you can’t even hear her gasp, can’t feel the burn of the boiling handle against your palm as you pour a mug so thick it nearly spills over the top. “Thanks, Elaine. Really, I hope it knocks me out for a week.” You don’t stay to take in the worry on Azriel's face or the hurt that laced your friends features. Your book is tight in your grasp and you’re halfway down the hallway when you feel your palm begin to throb.
Your bedroom door shuts with a slam, pure frustration pulsing through your whole being and you can feel it ebbing from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. A sigh pulls when you take an angry sip, it burns your tongue, slightly bitter but it was eased with a little sugar and a teaspoon of honey.
Guilt swells at the kind gesture and your misguided anger; Elaine had only been trying to help, making things to quell the dreams she didn’t even know were centered around her and man you loved but didn't love you back. It weighs on you as you change into your night clothes, smoothening ointment and wrapping thick gauze around your burn; there was no blistering but the angry red mark was sure to remain there for quite some time.
You try to distract yourself, silently sipping as you read your book.
It’s alarming how quickly you relax, the giant mug nearly empty when your book slips between your fingers and thuds to the floor, body slumping into the sitting chair and you don’t even have enough time to drag a blanket over yourself before your eyes flutter shut and sleep takes over.
And this time, you didn’t dream.
There was only peaceful silence and maybe an uncomfortable pressure in your chest that it came and went in waves; too grateful for the relief that settled in your bones to care. It was like you were sinking, body slowly falling into a sea of cushion and comfort and you’d have been willing to stay there forever.
Your brows furrow when a noise pierces through the silence; eyes squinting in the darkness to find the source but the harder you try to make it out, the darker the rooms gets. A hand rubs against your chest, the pressure coming back and this time it’s so hard it makes you cough, eyes clenching shut and it’s like that was the switch to wake you up.
Azriel is leaning over you, hands on your chest and cheeks red with exertion when you cough and cough, soul aching to return to the peace—that silence where there were no dreams. “Why’d you wake me up?”
“Wake you up?” His voice holds no more room for placating to your wants; hands shaking at his sides and it’s then you see the fear. “You didn’t have a pulse. I came to check on you and you were—“ Azriel clears his throat, voice cracking with his clothes disheveled and full lips firm in a straight line as he stood before you, crouching down to meet your eye level. “Tell me right now, what were you dreaming about that was so bad that you were willing to die to stop them.”
Your chest heaves as you take in air, a ringing begins in your ears and you back away; avoiding the words, the conversation—the sight of his mouth on hers. “I can’t.”
“You can and you will."
"Azriel—"
Az groans at your tone, turning his entire body away as if he physically couldn't bear hearing another aversion; another lame excuse as to why you couldn't tell him what was going on when you always did. "Do you not trust me? Is that it?"
“What?”
You'd never seen him so upset, eyes blazing and wings rustling in his frustration as he stood. "I'm just listing shit at this point because all I've done is try to be there for you—me and Elaine, and you just keep pushing us away."
"Oh, please," You snap back, gaining the strength to stand and the ache in your chest only gets worse and you begin to wonder just how long he was on top of you breathing air into your lungs and willing breath to stick with the push of his hands. "If Elaine's around, I might as well just walk right out of the room because that means you'll be otherwise occupied shoving your head up her ass."
"You sound ridiculous." He lets out a gruff laugh, arms crossed over his chest. "Are you jealous or something?"
"It's clear you have feelings for her. I get it—she's perfect and pretty and skinny and obviously you like that sort of thing but don't stand here and pretend you even notice I exist with her there." There's no taking back the words and you don't even care to look into the way his brows furrow at you, words punching at him a mile a minute as a dam breaks and days and weeks and months worth of emotions rage forward with no signs of stopping. "How couldn't I be jealous? When it’s so obvious that you love her and not me.” It feels pathetic to say out loud, hands crossing over yourself as you did your best to remain strong; to get through the feelings even though your skin was on fire and you couldn't stop fidgeting. "That's what my dreams have been about. Why I've been missing sleep and hiding things from you because every time I close my eyes all I can fucking see is you and her."
You don't even realize how much distance you'd been putting between you two, subconsciously searching for a way out when Azriel inevitability let you down easy. "You love me?" Words die on your tongue, feelings laid bare and vulnerabilities left out for his viewing pleasure; eyes like drops of gold boring into you as you gently nod. He sinks onto the edge of your bed, a breathless laugh emitting as scarring fingers traced over the soft fabric of your duvet. "The only reason I started talking to Elaine in the first place is because you and her had gotten so close and I wanted an excuse to be around you."
Your brows furrow, lips parting in confusion and the nerves begin to fade. "No."
Azriel's head nods once, settling into the fell of your room and the little trinkets you'd kept close on the nightstand; pictures neatly framed and resting on books you favored a little more than the others on the shelves. Hand sculpted vases made from blown glass that scattered rainbows across the room when the sun shone through the curtains to feed the bright flowers inside of them. "Yes, but you kept leaving and I thought it was because you weren't interested."
"But, I thought—"
"I think it's safe to say we both were off in our assumptions."
It feels like a dream and not the kind you'd been running away from but the one you'd been sinking and falling into earlier before Azriel had pulled you back. The one that felt like peace and comfort and something like hope begins to brew in your belly when you dare you look him in the eyes. "You like me?"
Azriel's features soften, the fear and worry from before a thing of the past when he stood and walked towards you, shadows kissing at your legs when warm knuckles grazed your cheek. "I love you," He corrects gently, his touch like home and its instinct the way you close the proximity. You can feel his heartbeat on your chest, the strong muscles of his arms itching to be traced and a smile forms at the blush that forms on the tops of his ears under your attention. "—and those smutty little books you've been reading."
His chest is hard when you jokingly smack it, cheeks going hot and eyes darting to the book laid forgotten on the floor. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
The lie doesn't deter him and neither does the little gasp that pulls free when he gently forces you to look up at him, hazel eyes trained on your mouth and the tongue that darts out to wet plush lips. "I'll pretend I believe that if you just shut up and let me kiss you."
Maybe reality was better than dreaming.
Because this time, when he leaned down with intent to press his mouth against another’s for a kiss—it was with you.
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bedoballoons · 4 months
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Could I request Kaveh, Alhaitham, Kaeya, and Neuvilette with an s/o who gushes about them 24/7? She'll talk about them in any conversation.
This is such a sweet idea, my brother does this with his girlfriend and I find it so cute! I hope you enjoy and thank you for your request!
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂
{༻~All about you~༺}
CW: Super sweet and fluffy!
(Includes: Kaveh, Alhaitham, Neuvillette, and Kaeya!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Kaveh:
"Speaking of art, you should see Kavehs sketches of the buildings he's designing. He has so much talent!"
"Kaveh is the best boyfriend I could ever ask for."
By now everyone had heard about him, had listened to you gush over him and talk him up, some had even started to roll their eyes, but you couldn't care less. He was all you could think about and every time he walked in on you complimenting him, you'd see him get all flustered and smiley and you just had to continue.
𑁍༄Alhaitham:
"He's so smart, so handsome. You should see the amount of books he reads and he always lets me snuggle up to him while he's reading."
You could go on for hours, chatting with everyone about him, about your perfect boyfriend who everyone always assumed was only a man with a poor attitude. If only they could see who he really was...the man who would hear your words and find himself longing to be with you in the comfort of your shared home, holding you against his chest and whispering his own words of kindness into your ear.
𑁍༄Neuvillette:
"He's the chief of justice...and one of the most incredible men I have ever met in my entire life."
"There's no one else like him, he's wonderful. Ah sorry I've started talking about him yet again...I just can't help it."
Your heart was just overflowing, everyday was a breeze...every moment a calm loved filled scene right out of the story books, how could you not talk about him every chance you got? You'd even started talking about him to random people you met during your busy day...unaware that so many of your kind words would reach his ears through the Melusines. He'd of course give you all his adoration in return, making sure to tell you just how much he loved you everyday.
𑁍༄Kaeya:
"He's the best thing that's ever happened to me. The way he loves me in unlike anything I could have ever imagined."
"Oh my, what a beautiful conversation to walk into~"
"Kaeya?!"
You'd turn to face him, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment as he yet again found you gushing over him...it couldn't be helped really. He'd find it adorable, catching you daydreaming about him to everyone...and he'd wrap his arms around you, place kisses on your cheeks to make you flustered. It was only fair considering how you made his heart race with your kindness
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧
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astermath · 11 months
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“So? Whatever.”
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pairing: dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader 
summary: The preppy girl that just about everyone admires has more in common with Dave than he expects. He doesn’t quite know how to handle this information, but it excites him nonetheless.
word count: 2K
♡ LANDING PAGE♡
notes: I haven’t written something like this in a good while, so please bear with me if I’m rusty or there are some mistakes here and there. Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, I tried to be as non descriptive as possible about her appearance. I do love writing a bit of a mean reader like this, but don’t worry, she’ll warm up to him. This fic takes place in senior year for age purposes, I’m pretty much fully ignoring the timeline of the film. Comments and/or requests are super welcome btw!! Hope you enjoy!! <3
(ps this will get a part two don’t worry xx)
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To Dave, girls like you were unreachable. You could hear about them, you could listen to them talk in the hallways, sneak a glance their way… But talk to them? Any single one of their group would consider that social suicide. The only reason any of them even looked in his direction was to ask him to do their homework. So why in god’s name were you at his locker? Why were you acknowledging his existence at all?
“What’s that?” You leaned against the locker next to his, pointing at the piece of a comic book panel he’d taped to the door. It pictured Spider-man putting on his mask for the first time, something Dave looked to when he needed some motivation for the day. 
He struggled to get basically any words out, still not fully registering that you’re within such close range. He could smell you… God that was really weird to think about, he felt like a creep already, but you just… Smelled really nice. Like vanilla, mixed with something sweet. He realized he hadn’t answered your question yet and was just staring in front of him like a weirdo. “O-Oh, yeah, that’s uh… That’s Spider-man. It��s this… This superhero I like.” He adjusted the strap of his backpack to keep his hands busy.
You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Duh, I know who Spider-man is, please.” You couldn’t help but think he was doing anything to avoid looking into your eyes, as if you’d turn him to stone if he dared to do so. Which, yes, was exactly how he felt.
“I wanted to know which comic that was from. The art style looks a lot different than the ones I’ve seen.” Now this part was pretty much making his teenage brain short circuit. He probably didn’t hear that right, there’s no way a popular girl like you read comics, right? This had to be some kind of elaborate joke, like you were trying to pull a prank on him by making him ramble about his favorite superheroes. However, he wasn’t close minded. Even if this was a prank, at least you were talking to him, right?
“Yeah, sorry, I uh… Forget he’s a pretty popular character sometimes. This one’s from a collector’s edition. One of the pages was kinda falling apart so I just… Taped my favorite panel to my locker.” Again, he tried to look anywhere else, but it felt rude not to be making eye contact with the person who’s trying to give you a chance at a conversation. His eyes met yours and he realised he hadn’t ever actually seen you up close like this. You were really pretty, he knew that, but he never noticed these particular things about you before. The way your hair framed your features so nicely, the little beauty mark that seemed to be somehow perfectly placed, or the way a dimple appeared on your right cheek when you smiled.
“Hopefully you didn’t pay too much for it, those things cost like, a fortune.” You followed, snapping him out of his haze as you twirled a piece of hair between your index and middle finger. Dave was much taller than you, so you had to look up to match his gaze, which was already hard since he kept avoiding your eyes. You never realized how much he’d matured since freshman year. He looked pretty cute… Really cute, actually. 
“S-So, uhm, I really don‘t wanna be rude, but…” He closed his locker before looking at you with a rather awkward expression. “Why are you here? Why are you… talking to me?” Honestly, not an unjustified question. Dave was often the subject of bullying, and the popular girls clique made no exception to that rule. He doesn’t remember you specifically doing anything, although... He has a vague memory of you being in the car with those jocks when they threw spoiled milk at him.
“What? A girl can’t talk to her fellow classmate? This is a free country, you know.” You pretended to be a little hurt by his assumption that you were probably just here to make fun of him. In all honesty he was still a little dumbfounded by this whole ordeal, and the fact that half the people that passed you were giving you two weird looks really wasn’t helping. “You know I sit behind you in English, right?” He responds by nodding. He is painfully aware of this fact, as your friends had expressed their empathy for you when your seat was assigned behind him, though you honestly didn’t mind. And also the fact that he got a fair share of gossip from you and your best friend always whispering to each other. “Well,” you flipped a bit of hair over your shoulder. “I saw you had a copy of Birth of Venom in your backpack, and I... Wanted to ask if I could borrow it...” You looked to the side, muttering the last part. As much as you tried not to care what people thought, you did have a bit of a reputation that you were stuck to. Liking comics wasn’t for you, you were a cheerleader, you went to parties, you liked shopping. Okay, you secretly liked comics.
Dave looked at you with a puzzled expression. “I-I’m sorry, can you repeat tha--”
“Can I borrow your stupid comic or what?” You interrupted him, clearly looking a bit embarrassed. 
“Oh!” His face was getting hot, this conversation was lasting way longer than he imagined it would. Usually he’d have his face shoved into his locker by now. “U-Uhm, sure! It’s a bit expensive, but... Well, just don’t damage it, please.” He took his backpack off his shoulder and was about to pull it out before you grabbed his arm. 
“Not here you dumbass! Just, like... Ugh, meet me at my car after school’s over, you can hand it to me then.” You were acting like this was some kind of illegal drug deal, but this truly was something important to you. Your dad had already made it very clear that he didn’t want his little girl becoming some kind of tomboy and have her mind run rampant with superhero stories. Especially with this Kickass guy running around...
The bell rang and you silently thanked it for doing so. “Look, I gotta go. White Corvette, by the vending machines.” You walked past him, and a waft of that lovely vanilla scent hit his nose. He damn near melted into the floor when your arm brushed against his. “Later, Lizewksi.”
You leaned against the hood of your car, scrolling on your phone as you waited for the brunette to show up. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that you were just meeting him in secret like this. It’s not like you were embarrassed to be seen with him, or that you didn’t like him, it’s just that liking comics and superheroes was just about the dorkiest thing anyone could be into. Especially with Kickass running around, and, well, kicking ass, people would probably be thinking you’d be into this whole vigilante business yourself. Sure, you thought it was cool that people were doing something about all the crime, but you’d rather die than mess up your hair beating some thug’s ass. 
You noticed someone approaching and noticed that Dave wasn’t alone. With a bit of a disgusted expression, you gestured to his two sidekicks. “I don’t remember inviting the entire geek entourage to come see me. This isn’t some kinda meet and greet, you know.” Todd and Marty seemed, just like Dave before, a little shocked that you were talking to them. 
“S-Sorry, they just uh...” Dave began.
“We didn’t believe him.” Todd followed.
“...believe what?” You questioned, crossing your arms.
“That a chick like you was into comics.” Marty said, before Todd smacked him on the back of the head. “Dude! Don’t say it like that!”
You got a bit flustered, and looked at Dave. “You told them!? What the fuck, Lizewski?”
“I-I’m sorry!” He held up his hands. “They were asking me what we were talking about, and... I panicked.” They were more so insinuating that he was flirting with her, and he didn’t want that rumor going around, in case your jock brother caught wind of that and beat his ass for flirting with his sister.
You sighed, looking down and pinching the bridge of your nose before waving your hand out in a dismissive manner. “It’s... whatever, just leave. Before I change my mind and throw a bitch fit.” His two friends gave him a suggestive look before heading out. “Those two better not snitch or I’ll cut off their shrimps.” He nodded, just a little intimidated by the threat.
He got out his backpack and handed you the comic. “I’m still surprised I uh... I never knew you were into this stuff.” His breath hitched in his throat when your finger brushed over his as you took it from him. You flipped through it, keeping your eyes on the pages.
“Yeah, well... There’s a lot you don’t know about me, as much as I’m sure you guys love to assume.” You realized you hadn’t even told him your name, so you looked up at him and held out your hand, introducing yourself. You know, out of courtesy. 
“I-I know your name, but uhm... I’m Dave.” Your hand felt so soft, your beautifully manicured fingers being a real juxtaposition to his. His hand was much bigger and rougher than yours. You wondered why his hand was so calloused anyways... He didn’t look like he did many sports.
“Wait... Your name isn’t Lizewski?” You chuckled. “Christ, my bad... I always thought that was just your first name.” Your feeling of guilt for the boy before you flared up a bit again. He was being really nice to you, offering you something personal of his that he probably spent a pretty penny on. And you didn’t even know his actual name before. No wonder some people thought you were a bit of a bitch, you thought to yourself. 
“Hey, uhm... I know you got a bunch of these, and my dad would kill me if he knew I was reading them. He hates vigilantes, and he thinks reading comics will get me into the whole thing. Stupid, I know, but... He takes it surprisingly seriously.” You put the comic away carefully. “So I have a proposition for you.”
His eyebrows rose a little. A proposition, alright. No big deal. Could be literally anything though. 
“Come to my house this Saturday, bring a bunch of these, and I’ll tell my dad you’re coming to tutor me for physics or something.” You tilted your head a little, your locks falling gently over your shoulders. “I’ll pay you. Money’s not a problem. It’ll be like I’m renting them from you.”
He thought for a second, but in all honesty... How was this not a total win/win situation? He got to be in a pretty girl’s room, read comics with her, talk about them and make money. What kind of idiot would say no to that? “Yeah! Sounds good to me, uh... What do you want me to...” His words trailed off as you pulled out a pen and reached for his hand, writing a string of numbers on the back of it. 
“I’ll text you the address, and which series I like. I’ll let you do the picking. Oh, and Dave?”
“Y-Yeah?” He felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. This is the closest you’ve ever stood to him. 
Your grip on his hand tightens, and you look up at him with a death stare. “Not a word to anyone about this.” You followed with a cutesy smile. “Alrighty?” You let go of his hand and put your stuff away before pulling out your car keys. 
Dave stands frozen in place, a faint blush already spread across his cheeks. He swore you were going to be the death of him. He looked down for a second and realized that what you wrote down wasn’t just some random numbers. It was your phone number. It all just suddenly felt very real to him, he’d never gotten a girl’s number before. And you were just about the last person he’d expect it from too.
You got in your car and turned on your engine. “See ya on Saturday, Lizewski! Don’t be late or I’ll kill you!” You smile, before driving off at a totally normal and acceptable speed. 
He gave a nervous wave before he looked back down at his hand. There was a little heart scribbled behind the phone number. It probably meant nothing.
But boy did it make his heart flutter. 
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1d1195 · 7 months
Text
Right Here
Hi, idk if you all know this about me, but I love tropes. ALL of them. All. of. them. So here they all are: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc. (Don't look too close this is Zipper but reveresed)
Other warnings: angst
9.2k+ words
“Business or pleasure?” The driver asked.
She stated “business,” immediately. Whereas Harry said, “a bit of both,” with that devilish smirk of his and looked at her with delight in his eyes. He seemed to get more enjoyment out of his comment as she glared at him.
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In Year 2, Harry was playing with a few of his friends by the slide. He wasn’t really aware of what was happening but there was a girl in his class playing with a couple of her friends when the screaming started. There was a huge to-do; parents were called, the principal was involved, and the girl that seemed to be at the center of all the drama would not stop glaring at Harry.
But Harry didn’t like girls. He was six. He wanted to hang out with his friends at recess and maybe learn about the shapes and the planets if he had time. So, he didn’t really care that she glared at him. Or that he had to write an apology letter (that his mum told him how to write in his six-year-old scrawl). It was just another day in the life of a Year 2 student. He didn’t even know why he was writing the little note to her. He didn’t know what happened or why he did something wrong.
Year 2 turned to Year 3 and soon Harry was kissing and hugging his mum and sister goodbye as he went off to university. He was studying English Literature and Communications. He wanted to be a book publisher—mainly because he wanted an excuse to read all kinds of books. Moreover, he could read really good books before everyone else did. Eventually, he hoped to open his own publishing company, but he would need a business partner for that.
That was still a long way down the road. For the time being, he would enjoy university: friends, girlfriends, classes, his part time job, and everything in between. His only downfall was listening to his professor who suggested he get a minor in business—especially if he planned on own his own company. Even if he didn’t fully run the business side of things, it was good to have a general idea. Some key words and concepts would be helpful. More so, if the business partner wasn’t someone he trusted.
But Harry was awful with his business classes. The very first one he took was the bane of his existence. He strongly considered never opening his own company, he would just get the other person to handle it. Needless to say, he was recommended for tutoring two weeks into the class.
That’s where he found the glaring girl. Obviously, no longer seven. She was twenty, like Harry. And she was lovely looking. Except for the scowl on her face directed at Harry. Surely, she hadn’t harbored a grudge toward Harry since she was seven?
Oh, but she was. She was curt while she tutored. Everything Harry did was wrong. She managed to correct his mistakes kindly, but he could tell it pained her. There was a lot of sighing and eye-rolling involved. But she was good, he’d give her that.
Harry tried to be friendly, but she clearly wanted no part of it. “I am not here for small talk with you, Harry,” her voice was flat. She didn’t want to talk about the weather, or parties, or anything that wasn’t part of Harry’s class. When she came to help him at the designated time in the library with tears in her eyes, she sat down, took a deep breath, sniffled, and started her help with his homework.
“Hey, we don’t have t’do this now, beautiful. You’re obviously upset—”
“What do you care?” She interrupted.
“Jesus,” Harry shook his head in disbelief. “What is your problem?” She rolled her eyes, tearfully. “Y’can’t seriously still be mad about Year 2.”
She shook her head. “Just...shut it,” she snapped and turned her attention to Harry’s assignment. He sighed, looking at her like she was on the verge of a breakdown but did as she wished. Listening intently to her lesson, Harry felt this pull of how sad he was by her anguish, and he didn’t even know what it was. He kept watching her expressions, judging her tone, in between her explanations. He was worried there was something seriously wrong.
Despite her anger towards him, he didn’t want her to be upset. He worried someone had hurt her or upset her in some way—in a way that he could fix. It didn’t occur to him why he wanted to help her until well after three other classes she tutored him in for his minor over the last two years of university.
He got very little information out of her about anything that didn’t pertain to his classes. He knew she was grumpy in the afternoon and much preferred to tutor in the morning when her mind was fresh. That was when he got a glimpse of her gentler side—for only a second. She liked coffee a lot, she smelled fresh of her shampoo, and her eyes were brighter. She would ask if he had a good weekend or if he had any fun plans. It was the only time she offered up anything to him.
If it was any time past two in the afternoon, she wanted nothing to do with pleasantries or Harry, it seemed. But she was paid to tutor him, and she did it well. Harry never would have made it through his business classes without her. He was forever thankful for her help, even if she didn’t want to be thanked.
*
“Harry, would you like to go to this conference?”
He looked up from his desk where he was reading a riveting historical fiction novel that was passed up the chain to him. Harry thought it would be a NYT bestseller for sure. “Me?” He asked, clearing his throat and putting his pencil down. One thing he hated was marking up people’s hard work in any color pen—but especially red. It felt very secondary school of his coworkers to do it that way. Someone pored over this writing and of course no one expected it to be perfect, not even the author. But there was something so ugly about red ink marking up something that your blood, sweat, and tears went into.
Harry would quit writing if he saw even one smidge of red ink on his work.
Which is why he edited and didn’t publish his own work.
Harry had been a senior editor for four years, now. He loved his job. It was everything he hoped for: he read so many good stories and felt he was still learning so much. He was promoted from junior editor to senior editor after two years. He still hoped to own his own company one day.
“Yeah,” his boss rolled his eyes. “Who else would I send? Someone from the business administration team will attend as well,” he explained.
Harry smiled; he knew the second the title left his mouth exactly who would be attending the conference with him. She was going to hate it. “I would love to go,” Harry nodded excitedly. “But between you and me, I don’t want anyone t’get jealous that m’going. D’you think y’can keep it a secret?”
“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged. Harry loved this office. It was so carefree. When he had his own company, he would want it to be exactly like this. If he could own this one, he would. He liked all of his coworkers and would want to keep them alongside him.
Including the girl from the admin team that constantly glared at him during work parties, meetings, and office breakroom run ins. If she wasn’t there, then it wouldn’t be worth it.
When Harry saw her interact with their coworkers, he couldn’t help but fall more in love with her. She was so utterly beautiful, funny, and of course, absolutely brilliant. There wasn’t a question she didn’t know how to answer. There wasn’t any advice she couldn’t give. She was never condescending and was extremely helpful. Even when Harry needed her help—which was so rare he only recalled it three times in the entire seven years they worked together. She didn’t sigh, didn’t roll her eyes although he was sure she wanted to.
So, nothing made him happier than annoying her to pieces.
He told everyone he had known her since Year 2. Left notes for her on her cute little lunch box in the fridge, would constantly send random items to her office (his favorite was the look on her face when he sent her a bouquet of balloons. It didn’t do anything, but people said Happy Birthday to her all day, and she had to say it wasn’t). He would tell people they were best friends and watch her blush bright red trying to get out of it. There were so many fake secrets he told the person he was near making direct eye contact with her, just to piss her off.
It worked every time.
He worshipped her, honestly. How could he not? She was brilliant and beautiful. The whole package. Even when she was a bit crabby, he thought she was simply the cutest and went on adoring her from afar.
Harry couldn’t imagine how fun a work trip would be with her.
*
She hated flying. It was necessary but she hated it. The space was almost too small. It was stuffy and gross in a lot of ways. The seats were cramped, and it was just awful. She had her headphones in place, a relaxing, quiet playlist, a good book, and her travel pillow around her neck. She was more than ready to begin the flight. The conference was a treat, it was shorter hours than her regular workday and then she could meander the town as much as she pleased. It was going to be a great trip and she had been looking forward to it for the last two weeks.
But then Harry sat right beside her. “Hey beautiful,” he smiled sweetly. She stared at him. This had to be a joke.
“You’re kidding?”
“What?” He smirked impishly stowing his bag beneath the seat in front of him. “Excited t’see me?” She flushed that beautiful shade of red that he loved so much on her cheeks. “Ready for our vacation?” He asked. “Bring a good book?”
The plane was suddenly even smaller. She thought she was going to be sick. A whole five days with Harry. Five. She was going to lose her mind. She closed her eyes as the plane jolted forward. Harry was doing all the things he wasn’t supposed to be doing. Fidgeting with the tray table and the like. She wanted to scream.
How could she possibly get stuck with him?
*
Harry didn’t say much to her throughout the flight. At least not after asking if she was comfortable, which was objectively nice if she couldn’t stand him so much. He grabbed her bag from the bin overhead, made sure she didn’t get lost on her way to baggage claim, and held the door open for her when they reached their Uber. “Business or pleasure?” The driver asked.
She stated “business,” immediately. Whereas Harry said, “a bit of both,” with that devilish smirk of his and looked at her with delight in his eyes. He seemed to get more enjoyment out of his comment as she glared at him.
She really wished Harry wasn’t so goddamn hot. It should have been a sin to make someone so alarmingly attractive. Soft brown curls that looked like they were made to slip between her fingers. He had green eyes—how was that even fair? Those dimples made her stomach flip. He was incredibly tall and so fit; she thought about falling at his feet every day she saw him at work and just ending her silly grudge.
But she never forgave him for that day in Year 2. Call her stubborn, call her stupid. She didn’t care. It ruined a huge chunk of her young life and made her miserable.
Four days and twenty-two hours. She could survive.
“Me and the missus need a place t’eat, do y’have any suggestions?” he asked, reaching for her hand like they really were a couple. She yanked it out of his grip. She wanted to kill him. More so because she hated the way her heart took off when he touched her and the idea of being “the missus” was...ugh.
She was worried Harry wouldn’t survive the next four days, twenty-one hours, and fifty-eight minutes.
*
They arrived at the hotel and Harry was once more a gentleman, even though she didn’t want him to be. He grabbed her suitcase and sweetly pushed it through the lobby to the front desk. “Hi,” Harry said cheerfully. She wanted to shower, get out of her plane clothes, and get away from Harry. His chipper attitude was making her grumpier than normal. “I have a reservation under Styles,” he explained. “Here for the convention,” he added.
The man behind the desk nodded, smiling pleasantly as he tapped away on his computer. “It says two guests for your name,” he informed him. Her heart dropped to her feet.
“No, it doesn’t,” she murmured, but she knew it was right.
Harry was smiling like an idiot. This was too good to be true for him and his endless bouts of annoying her. “That’s correct,” Harry nodded.
“Are there any other rooms?” She asked. She already knew the answer, but she would kick herself if she didn’t at least check.
“No, I’m afraid we’re really booked with the convention.”
She didn’t dare ask if there were two beds because she already knew that answer too.
“It’ll be fine, lovie, don’t worry,” he promised. Part of her thought he really meant it too, sensing how upset she was. She was so overcome with frustration; she almost didn’t notice the new name he gave her. That it wouldn’t be torture for her to be in the same little space as Harry for the entire five days. Her heart started erratically beating at the thought. It felt like the sides of her brain were caving in like the walls surely would be when they got to the room.
She would lay ground rules. She would go buy a roll of tape and cut the room in half. Harry wasn’t going to ruin her little reprieve from work. He continued to be kind and pulled her bag to their room. “I would like to shower,” she told him as she eyed the single, king-sized bed in the middle of the room, mocking her. He settled the bags on opposite sides of the room. He chose the side closer to the window for her.
“I’ll be right in,” he winked at her.
She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, which she knew was exactly what he wanted. “What if I don’t want the window side?” She asked instead.
“Well, that I don’t really care, lovie. M’taking closer t’the door in case someone breaks in. Wouldn’t want you t’get hurt.”
She just wanted to annoy him the way he always annoyed her. Maybe make him move the bags around and then move them again which she informed him she did want the window side. But she didn’t expect him to be so nice. Didn’t think he would give a reason that was kind enough to care about her well-being. Even when she was grumpy toward him.
If her cheeks were going to be red the whole week, she was going to lose it. “Don’t come in the bathroom or I’ll murder you,” she rolled her eyes.
“I would never do that,” he rolled his eyes right back at her. “I was jus’ kidding.”
Unfortunately, she believed him. He seemed genuine, as much as she wanted to kill him.
*
The shower helped her relax marginally. At the very least she got the feeling of the plane off her. “I ordered some pizza. Y’like peppers and onions on yours, right?” Harry, knowing exactly what she liked, furthered her agitation.
“Yeah,” she mumbled.
“I’d like t’shower too. D’you think y’can get the pizza when it arrives and actually get mine too?” He smiled at her knowingly; like he thought she might not take his pizza from the delivery guy in protest of the whole situation.
She rolled her eyes but had to hand it to him because it did sound like her. “Yes, Harry.”
“Hey beautiful?” he said softly. She hated that she looked up, answering to his pretty pink lips calling her ‘beautiful.’ She shouldn’t have. First and foremost, she thought he was wrong. Maybe it was because of all the drama of Year 2 but she never had boys of any age fawning over her after the slide-incident. Not the way they ogled and adored her friends. It did a number on her self-esteem. While she tried to put up this front that she didn’t care about whether she was beautiful or not, it was hard to believe someone like Harry would recognize her as even pretty.
Secondly, it made her stomach flip when he said it and she hated that. It was unfair he was pretty and unfair he could make her crazy with just a word. “M’not so bad,” his face looked apologetic—like he felt bad for existing. “I promise, it won’t be that bad this week with me.” She nodded sullenly, ran her brush through her hair. “’Ve left some notes on the table there for the pizza,” he tilted his chin toward it.
“You don’t need to pay for me.”
He smiled. “Course I do, lovie. S’my treat.”
She hated the way she answered to ‘lovie’too.
*
She sat in comfortable silence while she ate her pizza. While eating, she looked at the itinerary on her phone. Made plans in her mind and thought about some of the things she wanted to do during her free time.
“Oh good, m’starving. Smelled it while I was showering.”
She did a double take, her jaw falling open instinctively. She nearly dropped her pizza on her lap and then her phone right after it. Harry was hurrying across the room to get to his pizza. A towel low on his hips showing off glistening, taut muscles. Her heart hammered against her chest. “Jesus,” she whispered to herself looking away.
“Did y’say something, beautiful?” He asked, taking a bite of his pizza. She shook her head. Once more, angry she answered with the word ‘beautiful’.  His hair was dripping, and she followed the little droplets as they slid down his broad shoulders and across his defined pectorals. It wasn’t fair. She wanted to hate him easily. But his pretty tattoos and his gorgeous body were making it so difficult.
“I’m think I’m going to sleep on the floor,” she told him. He frowned around a bite of his pizza. When he finished chewing, he had a bit of grease on each corner of his mouth. She wanted to reach out with a napkin and wipe it away.
Or lick it away, along with the rest of his body.
“I’ll be the perfect gentleman,” he promised. “M’not gonna let y’sleep on the floor, lovie,” he rolled his eyes. “If you’re that uncomfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
She couldn’t help but feel bad that her awkwardness, her annoyance for Harry, would have him sleep on the floor. He didn’t truly deserve that. This was a work trip for him as well, after all.
Maybe if he was fully clothed, she would have taken him up on his offer. Accepted him sleeping on the floor in her place. But her modern-woman, intelligent brain that she had spent years cultivating so she was independent, and worked so hard to make sure she didn’t go ga-ga over a man was malfunctioning from travel...and knowing she was stuck with Harry in such close quarters for almost a week.
Plus, Harry had the prettiest stomach she had ever seen on a man.
Her primal brain, the one that seemed to be screaming from between her legs, couldn’t help but feel bad for him.
“It’s…fine,” she mumbled focusing on her pizza and phone again.
“Are y’sure, beautiful? I don’t want t’make y’uncomfortable.”
She believed him. He seemed so eager to please her and ease her worries. She nodded. “It’ll be fine,” she was telling herself in hopes it would be true. “But I’m making a pillow wall.”
He smiled around his pizza.
*
“Would y’prefer I sleep with or without a shirt?” He asked. Harry went to use the hotel gym and then took another shower. She used the time to read her book and sit on the balcony while the sun was setting. It wasn’t a picturesque view or anything, but the sky was a bunch of beautiful hues of pink, blue, and orange.
When Harry exited the shower, it was awkwardly silent for a bit. Harry tended to his after shower-care. She was looking at her book but not reading. She yawned, and that was when Harry asked his question. The inquiry felt like a double-edged sword. If she said with a shirt, it might imply she wanted to hide him from her view because she couldn’t help but look at him. If she said no, it would make it seem like she wanted to see him. “Whatever makes you comfortable,” she decided on.
He smirked and pulled his T-shirt off. “‘Fraid you’re not privy t’that sleeping habit, lovie.” She wondered if anyone had ever been murdered with a hotel phone cord. She felt extremely self-conscious about her t-shirt and leggings combo. “Feel free t’do the same, beautiful,” he grinned wickedly at her as he slipped into his side of the bed. She had two pillows under the blankets and two on top. She was certain that even if she had her own room, it wouldn’t be enough distance between them. “What if I want another pillow?” He asked mischievously.
“Go fuck yourself, Harry,” she grumbled.
He frowned. “C’mon, lovie. S’not so bad.” She didn’t say anything in response and turned to her side facing away from him. She scrolled mindlessly on her phone. “D’you want t’watch something together?” He asked.
“No, thank you,” she murmured quietly. “You can though,” she shrugged. “I’ll sleep through most anything.”
He nodded. “Okay...well...good night, beautiful. Sleep well,” he said sweetly.
She didn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, she imagined the nice museum she saw online. The picturesque street about a mile away with cute little shops. There was the coffee shop she wanted to go to. All the things that Harry couldn’t ruin with his annoying little remarks.
Or his stupid hot body.
Other than some gentle laughter, she didn’t hear or worry about Harry sleeping less than six inches from her own body. The pillows provided the perfect barrier between them so that she could sleep easily knowing that he wouldn’t bug her.
Only four days until it was over. She could do this.
*
Harry heard her phone drop from her hands to the floor about an hour later. He hurried to her side of the room and made sure her alarm was set, locked her phone, and placed it on her nightstand. He saw the way she seemed to shiver in her sleep. Probably because she was right under the vent. The space between her brows puckered due to her discomfort. He draped the blanket that was at the end of the bed over her. Almost immediately, the skin between her eyebrows smoothed back out. He wanted to kiss her in the very same spot but of course would never do that without her permission.
The movie Harry was playing was funny and he enjoyed it immensely. True to her word, she slept through his laughter and the sound of the movie itself. She was wiggly when she slept. The pillows and blankets balled all around her and Harry wondered how she slept like that each night. It looked nearly painful at times.
Of course, the movie came to an end, and she was still sound asleep when Harry finally turned the TV off and hunkered down into his side of the mattress. He tried not to disturb her pillow wall, but she had managed to throw all of them every which way. He smirked to himself, shaking his head at her.
Harry must have gotten only an hour of sleep under his belt when he woke up to her kicking and mumbling under her breath. The light coming through the window allowed for his eyes to adjust a bit to the darkness against her figure sprawled in the sheets. He shook his head glancing over at her in complete disarray.  Her body was still twisted around the pillows and blankets. Harry was left with just the sheet. He smirked at her.
He threw his arm over his eyes and ignored her fitful movements. But they kept going and going. The mumbling too. He felt bad about whatever she was dreaming about, but he didn’t dare touch her. If she woke up to him touching her, even if it was for comfort, he was certain she would kill him.
Harry was a pretty heavy sleeper himself, so her fussy movements didn’t bother him in the slightest. Whatever she was dreaming about had to be a kick for sure and for that he felt bad.
But then Harry heard small whimpers coming from her and he felt his stomach knot. It felt like he was dying at the mere sound of her discomfort. The anguish he felt coming from her was brutal and he wanted nothing more than to hold her and fix it. “Oh, hey,” he hummed, sitting up against the headboard. He looked her over and thought incurring her wrath would be well worth it if he could stop her from whimpering miserably. “Lovie? Y’okay?” He gently shook her by the shoulder. She seemed to be fighting whatever she was dreaming about, and the blankets were keeping her trapped. Harry grabbed the pillows that were on top of her. Her arms were nearly swaddled against her body with the blanket wrapped around her and pulled up to her neck tightly.
Harry flicked the light on his nightstand so he could get a better look at her.
The poor thing was glistening with sweat around her hairline, tears were leaking from her closed eyes, and that space between her brows was cinched together like she was in pain. “Oh, no,” he murmured and crawled out of his side and came around to her side. “Hey,” he cooed. He crouched in front of her and began tossing the pillows to the floor. He unraveled the blankets from around her. “Lovie,” he murmured. He called her lovie at the start of the evening and he couldn’t stop. He loved to call her beautiful and enjoyed how readily she answer to it. But something about her sweet face just made the word ‘lovie’ roll right off his tongue. It was effortless; like it was the only thing he should call her. Once she was without the swaddle of blankets, and the pillows attacking her, she was practically gasping for air in her sleep. “Lovie, you’re having a bad dream,” he gave her a good shake causing her eyes to flash open. Harry gazed at her in alarm. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to hide from Harry. But it was far too late for that. “Are y’okay, beautiful?”
She ignored him. Her breathing evening out. She turned away from him. “Lovie...”
“Would you stop calling me cute names?” She asked, the exasperation thick in her voice. But she was still distraught. He could tell. He was quiet for a minute letting her work through whatever just happened. “Please don’t tell anyone about this,” she whispered.
He blinked. He felt so sad she believed so little of him. “I would never tell anyone anything ‘bout you—”
“You whisper about me all the time,” she snipped.
His mouth fell open in disbelief. “Lovie, you have t’know I don’t whisper anything ‘bout you. M’telling them how pretty I think y’are and how you’ll get all flustered that m’whispering nothing ‘bout you. They know I adore you and think nothing short of wonderful things ‘bout you. Y’seriously don’t get it do you?” He felt so utterly annoyed by her, himself. He thought she was lovely and yes; she was fun to annoy but he would never say anything about her that hurt her reputation. He was sad she thought he would. It never made sense for her to dislike him so intently. He never really cared and turned it into a joke. But knowing she truly didn’t like him made his heart heavy.
She refused to look at him. It was silent for several beats. Harry stared at the back of her t-shirt, her shoulders trying to find an easy rhythm. He wanted her to explain it. Right now. In the middle of the night when they were stuck in a small hotel room together. “Why did you trap me in the slide?” She whispered.
Of all the things he expected her to say, that was not one of them. “What?” He shook his head.
“In Year 2? You and your friends trapped me in the slide, now I’m embarrassingly claustrophobic. If I have anything covering my face, I have a meltdown. It feels like I can’t breathe. If someone...holds me the wrong way for too long, I get overwhelmed. It’s ruined so many relationships and it’s...” she sniffled, her shoulders staggering a bit at the effort.
He frowned. “Is that why you hate me?” He whispered. She didn’t answer him. “Lovie, I had nothing to do with that.”
“Well, they blamed you.”
He sighed. “So, all this time you’ve hated me, and it wasn’t even my doing?” He asked.
It seemed to appeal to the logical part of her brain. She was still for a moment longer, her breathing evening out. But then she rolled to her other side and stared at Harry. He hated the tears that stained her cheeks. That little crease between her eyebrows. He reached out and pressed his fingers there to smooth it out and she let him. It didn’t even bother him that she hadn’t liked him for so long.
Her lips rolled into her mouth as she thought over the last twenty-something years of their lives. It may not have bothered Harry but now it bothered her. “Why have you liked me even though I’m so...crabby toward you?”
He smiled excitedly. Like he was getting a Christmas present or told he won a raffle. “What isn’t there t’like ‘bout you, beautiful?” His hand cupped her cheek and his thumb gently rubbed at the stain of salt on her cheek. The back of her head was warm with sweat and if it wasn’t so late at night, she would feel more self-conscious.
“You’re a glutton for punishment.”
It was progress though because she didn’t push his hand away from her face. “Can I get back on the bed? I won’t touch you, but I don’t want you t’have the pillows and blankets attack you.”
“You can touch me,” she mumbled.
He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Oh yeah?” He rose from the floor to head back to his side of the bed.
She rolled her eyes at him. “I hate you.”
“I don’t think y’do, actually,” he said smugly.
“Are you going to annoy me the entire time?”
Harry turned off his bedside lamp and crawled under the sheet. “Probably.”
She sighed; he imagined her pretty eye roll the way she always did. Harry put his arm behind his head, closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. “You really didn’t trap me in there?” She asked.
Harry turned to his side and looked at the shadow outline of her staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to reach out and trace the shape of her profile, follow it down her arm and hold her hand. “Even as a six-year-old, lovie, I couldn’t hurt you. If...I knew...I would have gotten y’out of there so fast,” he promised. “Poor baby,” he murmured and bravely reached out and grabbed her hand. She didn’t pull from him. She let his fingers fit between the spaces of hers, gave her a gentle squeeze.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t know why you were mad,” he shrugged.
“You were really just going to let me hate you for the rest of our life?”
“Hate and love are very close together in the brain,” he said knowingly. “Given y’said the rest of our life,” he smiled excitedly, “I had a feeling y’couldn’t keep it up forever. And I’d wait forever for you, beautiful.” He sounded so arrogant she wanted to hate him just to spite him. But she couldn’t argue with him. It was exhausting hating him. Being in the hotel room with him—especially when he was in a towel—was ruining her grumpy front. Even with sleep still on her brain, she couldn’t help but think about how gentle he was with her and her anxious mind. He was so utterly accommodating and kind to her. He would have slept on the floor if she asked. But she rather enjoyed the feel of his fingers holding hers. “Do you have nightmares a lot?” He asked, interrupting her thoughts.
She shook her head. “Not anymore...Only when I get all twisted like that. I usually sleep better with a weighted blanket to help my anxiety about it. It also keeps me in place, mostly. I’ve had a lot of therapy to help cope with it and the blanket usually helps but obviously y’can’t really travel with a fifteen-pound blanket.”
“Can you snuggle?” He asked.
She blinked at the darkness in front of her. “Can I what?”
“Can you snuggle with someone?” He repeated.
She bit the inside of her lip. “As long as my face isn’t covered,” she muttered. “But it’s definitely been a problem in past relationships if that’s what you’re asking me ab—”
Harry had his arms looping around her and he pulled her toward him so quickly, she barely had time to process. His body spooned behind her, one arm snug beneath her neck and the other draped around the front of her hips. Her heart rate had to be approaching a hundred and fifty. “Is this alright, beautiful?” He murmured into the back of her hair. She was speechless, truly. Harry holding her like...like she didn’t just have a major meltdown. Like he adored her still. “Lovie?” He said, nearly releasing her when she didn’t answer. Worried that her heart rate was too high—he could practically feel it through her back pressed to him. Maybe this was too much.
But right as he started to pull away, her arm pressed against Harry’s. She sighed softly. “No...m’fine,” her voice was quiet.
“Are y’sure? I don’t want t’upset you,” he promised. “Been dreaming ‘bout snuggling with you... but not at the expense of your comfort or anxiety,” he assured her.
“You dream about cuddling with me?”
“Among other things,” he spoke to the back of her hair, his lips smiling against her head.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
“I really didn’t think y’could hate me forever, lovie.”
She was quiet for a few moments. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. It was the first time she ever apologized to him. His heart skipped a beat.
“I know, beautiful. How would y’have known, though? I wish y’told me, but I know why y’didn’t.”
More silence. Harry’s bare stomach was touching her t-shirt, his legs were crooked up against the back of hers. They fit like puzzle pieces. She bit the inside of her lip feeling exhaustion pull over her mind. How was she supposed to sleep knowing Harry was sleeping right next to her?
“Good night, lovie,” he murmured.
She sighed, relaxing, and drifting to sleep almost immediately.
*
The first day of the conference went by quickly with not much to really show for it. Harry enjoyed it immensely and had a thousand new ideas that he suggested to her over their lunch together. She enjoyed it as well but after her night snuggled up to Harry nothing else seemed remotely important.
“Hey, lovie?” Harry said, trying to retrieve her attention. “Did y’have plans this afternoon? M’gonna catch up with a friend,” he nodded toward another table. The idea of Harry leaving her alone actually saddened her, but of course...they’d have the night.
Unless the friend was a girl. In which case he very well could not come back to their shared room. She nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Have fun,” she encouraged.
He smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Keep the bed warm for me, yeah?” He winked at her as he pulled away.
She thought maybe killing him would still be an option.
She perused the little picturesque street taking a whole bunch of pictures and stopping in nearly every shop on the street and making a purchase in almost every single one. It was actually really nice. Not too hot, not too cold. She even sort of wished Harry had gone with her on her little adventure. She thought he would have liked some of the shops as much as she did.
It was precisely when she wished Harry had gone with her that she realized she really liked him. All this time.
Maybe he was right, and her brain mistook her affection for him as hatred. She wasn’t ready to say love yet. Even if her subconscious was screaming about how lovely he was.
Even last night when Harry was comforting and gentle about her phobia. He didn’t make her feel bad...in fact he made her feel normal and wonderful. The new information about the slide was a revelation. She had spent so many years with ill-harbored feelings toward Harry. It seemed wasteful after last night. He was kind, understanding, attractive—
She was not in love with him.
She couldn’t be, right?
He was annoying. Even if he wasn’t whispering about her, he was still making her feel grumpy. The constant gag gifts and deliveries were vexing beyond compare.
But those dimples when he smiled? They could undo all those negative emotions she felt. She was certain that there was some pheromone or chemical released in the air when he smiled. One that made her mind momentarily forget that he had been the cause of the slide thing.
However, that wasn’t true anymore.
So...
No. It’s like meeting someone for the first time. You don’t love him.
Not when he called her beautiful or lovie. Not when he openly flirted with her or held her against his warm body in the middle of the night and kept the nightmares away. She did not love him.
But maybe she just really, really, really, really, liked him and wanted to spend all her extra time with him now and show him the little shop she found because she smelled three different kinds of soap that she thought he would enjoy.
Obviously, that wasn’t love.
She looked more like some shopping bag monster than girl, when she made her way into the hotel elevator. Harry was already in the room when she got back. “Have fun?” He asked, putting the new file he brought with him and his pencil aside. His smile was so bright she really wondered how she could have ignored him for so long.
“Did…you catch up with your friend?” She asked. She was gone for almost three hours, she worried that she would come back to find Harry with someone, or someone in the shower...
Or in our bed. One part of her mind was grumpy at the thought. Not our bed. The one brain cell left on the rational side of her mind shouted back.
Harry began untangling her wrists and fingers from the bags she held while her brain had its own conversation. The bags left angry red marks on her skin. He nodded, placing the bags on the floor. “Yeah, jus’ had a quick stop at the pub for a drink,” he gently massaged the inside of her wrists. “I missed you,” he said cutely. She stared at him almost suspiciously. Like maybe all of this was a trick. Her distrust seemed palpable because he frowned. “I did, beautiful. Really missed you,” he brought her wrist to his lips and pressed a kiss on the soft inside skin. She missed him too. Even before she went to the shops, she was dreading leaving his side, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Her face must have softened a bit because the left side of his face turned up in a gorgeous half smile. It made her wonder how Harry had decided on editing and publishing and not modeling. “Would y’like t’get dinner with me?” He asked.
“Like a date?” She blurted out before she could stop herself.
“Yes, lovie. Like a date,” he rolled his eyes.
She frowned. “I don’t really have anything...date-worthy to wear.”
“Well, y’could go naked, but they might throw y’out.”
“Shut. Up.”
“Y’look beautiful now. I’d take y’out in the sexy pajamas y’wore last night.”
She wondered briefly if Harry had ever been hit in the head over the years and suffered irrevocable brain damage. “Sexy?”
“Your leggings?” He smiled mischievously. “M’almost jealous of ‘em touching all of your legs.”
Definitely hit in the head.
“Can I just...have a few minutes to touch up?” She asked, ignoring his comment.
“Course, beautiful. Not that y’need it.” He was good. She would give him that. He was very good at making her feel gooey and pretty. Harry said all the right flirty things. Dinner would be fun, and she was quite hungry.
She exited the bathroom after touching up her makeup and switching out her casual business blouse for a tank top with a cardigan. She swapped her slacks for a pair of jeans. The flats she wore stayed to complete her outfit.
“Will you marry me?” He sighed dreamily as she exited the bathroom.
He was going to give her an aneurysm.
“Shut up, Harry.”
“Ve’been waiting for this date for...” he smiled. “Oh, I don’t know, lovie. Least since university.”
Harry had to have a death wish. “You’ve...liked me? Even though I was mean to you?”
“A glutton for punishment, as it were,” he winked bringing her words back.
She grabbed her little cross body bag and Harry followed her out their hotel room door. Since the slide incident, she had been to at least four different therapists to help alleviate the worry and fear she had. In all honesty, she was much better than she used to be. The airplane was a little daunting during takeoff but that could have been due to a fear of flying, not claustrophobia. Her small attic or the cramped closet in the hall of her place didn’t bother her any longer. Being on a train in public transport rush hour—even when the train came to a standstill in the middle of the dark tunnel—didn’t really bother her anymore. It was only when her face was covered for too long without her ability to get out quickly, sleeping, plagued with nightmares, or swaddled in her blankets too tightly that she felt the waves of anxiety suffocating her like that day on the slide.
Or when the elevator clanged to a stop and jolted her so hard, she nearly fell into Harry.
It was three seconds of pure silence before she realized what happened. Before Harry realized.
“Shit.” Harry whispered.
“Oh no,” her pulse quickened. Her head started to ache, and it felt like the elevator was suddenly the size of an Amazon box and she was crammed inside. It took her a moment to realize the wheezing was coming from her.
“Hey, hey,” Harry quickly grabbed her shoulders. Her eyes welled with tears, and she was heaving on her breath. One of his hands reached for the emergency button causing a monotone ring to take over all sounds in the small space; the volume was louder than her heavy breathing. “Lovie, tell me what t’do,” he begged. “M’sorry,” he whispered. She felt lightheaded and scared. So scared she obviously was having trouble breathing. She worried that she would pass out right into Harry’s arms.
“M’scared,” she croaked.
“I know, beautiful,” he squeezed her shoulders. He held her away at arm’s length afraid to bring her closer in case it would make matters worse. All he wanted to do was wrap her close and console her. “But...s’okay,” he promised. “Really, s’okay.” It wasn’t; he wasn’t trying to make light of her fear either. He knew how bad it was because he had spent the last twenty years waiting for this moment. For her to say she didn’t hate him. For the last ten, he longed for a date. One measly dinner to change her mind. But the broken elevator was going to ruin it all. Honestly, that didn’t even matter to him. All of it didn’t matter. He had to try something to ease her worry. Something to help her scared mind. “I would never let anything happen t’you. Would never let anything hurt you,” he was gazing right into her eyes. He definitely didn’t cure her, but she could feel how devastated Harry felt. He meant it; he wouldn’t let anything harm her as much as he could possibly control. “Deep breaths? Does that help?” He asked. She nodded. She tried but it was hard, the air she sucked in and released was shaky and not very deep. It was hard to think about breathing deeply when all she could think about was dying in this tin box. “Easy, lovie. S’okay,” he squeezed her shoulders again.
The alarm was plain on his face, and she wondered if he wanted to hold her. She wanted to be held but wasn’t sure it would work. Her stomach felt so knotted. Thought maybe she would throw up and she couldn’t imagine a worse first date with Harry than throwing up in an enclosed space. She sank to the floor, her legs scrunched up so she could rest her forehead against her knees. Harry crouched in front of her, clearly still nervous and unsure of what to do. The one part of her brain that still had some rational thought left thought it was a travesty that she would lose Harry from this. She thought if she made it out, she would have to just go home. She couldn’t share a bed with him.
“They’re probably getting someone t’help right now, beautiful. S’okay,” he placed his hands on her ankles. It seemed like the safest option. He was so mortified this happened. To her of all people. The ringing of the elevator seemed to die down with the ringing in her ears. “Lovie?” He asked; he felt anxious that she was breathing so hard. She looked at him, her vision blurred by the tears. “Tell me what t’do,” he begged. He felt so useless. So worried that she was going to pass out or have a meltdown that she would inextricably link to him and never forgive him. After he just made some progress.
He thought about her six-year-old self. Trapped in that slide, her little brain all terrified. He wondered if that little version of herself still existed inside her. It hurt him to think about that poor little girl scared to pieces. He leaned forward and pressed his lips on her forehead and kept pressed there for a moment. That moment in time seemed to stretch on for eternity. But, as he kept his lips on her skin, he noticed her breathing slowly calmed. Her muscles seemed to relax.
“That feels nice,” she murmured almost serenely. He smirked against her skin. Slowly, he pulled away. Her eyes watched Harry with worry, but he slid beside her before he moved too far away. The shaky breathing picked up just a little. Her heart still fluttered with anxiety. She rested her cheek on her knee facing him.
“I...I could...do it again if y’want. If y’think it would help,” he suggested, turning toward her a little more head on. She lifted her head, it felt so achy and heavy. Harry cupped her face and pressed his lips on her skin again. She sighed softly. The ache seemed to ease at his touch.
Ugh. Harry was medicine that she didn’t know she needed. He dragged his lips across her skin, peppering her hairline with soft little presses. She wondered if he would always be this gentle with her.
She still wasn’t sure how she felt about her mind thinking about things like always with Harry. She was fairly certain she would die of humiliation the moment her brain returned to normal once they got off the elevator. There wouldn’t be an always after this. Harry would think she was nuts or ridiculous. There wouldn’t even be a sometimes.
 “Are y’okay, lovie?” He hummed against her skin. “As y’can be right now?”
She nodded, feeling utterly safe with Harry beside her. She enjoyed the way his hands felt on her skin. His lips on her face. It was too bad she didn’t know all these years he had nothing to do with her childhood trauma. She thought she really could be in love with him.
*
It took an hour, but they were finally freed of the metal tin. The moment she had fresh air, she felt infinitely better. Harry could see it on her face and in her body language. She was entirely at ease. Back to normal. After a flurry of questions and the hotel offering a few extra nights, they left for a nearby restaurant. Harry held her hand, fingers twisted together. He didn’t say much, because he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say after that. He knew she had to have felt so exposed and vulnerable.
“We...don’t have to go out, if you don’t want,” she mumbled.
Harry frowned and stopped the pair of them in the middle of the sidewalk. “Do y’want t’go back?” He asked.
She bit the inside of her lip. “I’m sorry.”
He blinked in surprise. “For what, beautiful?”
“For being crazy?” Did he forget what just happened?
“Crazy?” He repeated in surprise. “Lovie, s’not your fault. M’glad you’re okay.”
“You’re not...you don’t think I’m...weird?”
His heart felt such sadness for her. “No, lovie. Course not. Think you’re lovely. I was so scared y’were going to hurt yourself in all the worry. M’so glad you’re okay. M’sorry y’had to—why are y’crying, beautiful? Are you alright?” He asked, her eyes spilling with tears. He thought he might cry right with her. Harry had a good six or seven inches on her and he bent his knees a bit so he could be eyelevel with her teary gaze. His hands cupped her face just like on the elevator and he looked pained that she was crying.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t know why she was apologizing. But he let her and pulled her toward him, careful not to cover her face with his embrace. She sobbed into his chest. Harry kissed the top of her head. “S’okay, beautiful. Don’t know why you’re apologizing. But s’okay.”
It felt so embarrassingly awful that she and Harry would never be.
*
They ordered takeout, had a drink while they waited—barely speaking as they did, and headed back to the hotel. Of course, they took the stairs. She didn’t even feel like eating as she sat across from Harry on the balcony. He ate his veggie stir fry quietly while she poked at the pasta in her takeout box. “That’s pasta, you remember?” He smirked at her. “You’re supposed t’eat it,” he encouraged. Trying to joke so she would feel a little better.
She couldn’t even muster an eye roll for him. Ending before they started...after a whirlwind of one night and day of the convention seemed utterly unfair.
“Lovie?” He asked quietly. She didn’t respond. She was worried she would cry. “Beautiful,” he murmured setting his food aside, crouched beside her seat and pushed her food to the side as well.
“I...I think I really like you,” she whispered.
He smiled. “Well finally, lovie. But y’don’t have t’cry ‘bout it, m’right here,” he gave her knee a gentle squeeze. Like he was consoling her.
She shook her head. “S’not fair to you or all that time I wasted. And I’m so weird.”
“You’re not weird, lovie,” he promised.
“Yes, I am, Harry.”
He shook his head. “Y’seriously going t’continue pushing me away when m’literally on my knees in front of you, beautiful? I don’t care if y’weird or not. I don’t care if y’cry on elevators or if y’sing in the shower. You’re m’favorite person t’annoy and I want t’do it, knowing I can kiss you after every joke,” he looked up at her eyes from his crouched position. “Y’don’t have t’waste any more time, lovie. M’right here.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, worried she was going to say no or something just because she was so nervous about all of it. It was twenty years of disliking Harry (well, not really, but yes really). That was twenty years of hating small spaces of getting nervous in crowds and explaining to boyfriends that she couldn’t attend some events even when she wanted to.
But Harry didn’t care.
And she believed him.
She should have begged him to leave her alone because it wasn’t fair to him, and she truly believed that. Harry was so much kinder than she ever, ever imagined. Now he was right, of course. He was right here. Right in front of her. Literally on his knees telling her he wanted her. Despite everything. So instead of opening her mouth where she might say no, she nodded slowly.
He sighed with relief and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her toward him. He carefully squeezed her rubbing his hand up and down her back so soothingly she wanted to cry some more. Harry had the gentlest touch, and it was melting her—inside and out. She sighed into his chest, arms wrapping back around him. She even pressed her face right into his T-shirt and didn’t feel the creeping sensation of doom surrounding her. Instead, all she could smell was the scent of Harry’s laundry detergent and the very essence of Harry.
“Thank you, beautiful,” he sighed into the top of her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. He pushed her away from his body but kept her in between his arms. He really loved touching her face. “Can’t wait t’join you in the shower, now,” he winked.
She rolled her eyes. He wasn’t going to quit, that much was certain. “You should be better than that detachable shower head,” she murmured.
He stared at her fully for at least half a minute, unable to speak. He cleared his throat after what seemed like a lifetime and then kissed the center of her forehead followed by the tip of her nose. Right before he kissed her lips for the first time in their lives, he whispered, “that I have t’see, lovie.”
--
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persphonesorchid · 1 year
Text
Auburn Skies - MYG
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Summary:  Everyone knows that if your best friend has a little sister, she's off limits. That, and the fact that your best friend will probably kill you if you even think about going near his sister. Yoongi knows this. There's no way he could tell Namjoon that once upon a time you kissed him, drunk in his living room after a break up. So much time's passed since then, too much time to bring it up now, but Yoongi still thinks about it, he's still a little hopeful. Now you're here at the lake house because Namjoon brought you and you clearly have something you want to say to Yoongi. 
Namjoon's gonna kill him.
Genre: 18+, fluff, angst, humor.
Word count: 12k
Warning(s): 18+, smut, oral (m+f receiving) unprotected sex, porn is mentioned. Yoongi and Y/n are BOTH stupid and they need help. Taehyung's trying his best, Seokjin is also trying his best but subtler. Yoongi's convinced that Namjoon's out to get him at every turn. Slight jealousy. Y/n and Yoongi have no idea how to actually hold a conversation like adults, until they do.
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Notes: My addition to the Autumn Leaves Collab, hosted by the beautiful @bangtansmauyeondan !! I had so much fun working on this, and I met so many beautiful people that I'm so grateful for, so happy to call my friends 🥺 I love y'all! Please check out the other authors' fics on the Collab Masterlist! Everyone worked so hard, give my girls some love! Shout out to @blog-name-idk and @xpeachesncream for being absolute aNGELS, beta reading and helping me out when I panicked over this lol, and @madbutgloriouspond for helping me brainstorm. I hope you guys enjoy!! Please leave feedback, I'm nothing but a poor soul seeking validation (and motivation!) to keep going.
If you like my content, please, consider donating if you're able - Here
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"You're staring." Seokjin nudges Yoongi's arm with his, snapping him out of his daze. He catches Seokjin's smirk, and there's a twinkle in his eye that promises nothing good. Yoongi pulls his eyes away from your form, sitting in a chair on the dock away from everyone else with a book in your hand. You're bundled up in a thick sweater and cozy sweatpants, completely lost in your book.
"Was not." Yoongi feels the need to deny it, distracting himself with cutting up onions, focusing on the way the blade of the knife cuts through the vegetable and definitely not the way Seokjin was wiggling his eyebrows at him.
"Sure. I believe you."
Somewhere inside, there is music playing. A Lo-Fi beat that plays softly under the sound of rain. It's kind of sad, if Yoongi is being honest, but he supposes that autumn is a sad season. Nothing but changes all around. The leaves change colours, mixing like paint on an easel in the hands of a melancholy artist drowning in his own solitude. They shift and the vibrancy of summer fades until they die, falling off their homes to go drifting in the wind, or land on the ground to become everyone's problem.
He doesn't really like autumn, when winter is right around the corner and he can feel the cold seeping into his bones no matter how many layers he wears. Always leaving his cheeks and his nose red, and his fingers hurting when the chill gets to them.
You enjoy it though, even reminded him when he picked up you and Namjoon this morning. You were kicking at the pile of leaves in front of Namjoon's apartment complex like a kid, laughing like you didn't have a worry in the world. You greeted him like you hadn't seen him in years, running up to him with Namjoon's scarf wrapped awkwardly around your neck like you were in a rush.
Namjoon is currently skipping stones with Jungkook near the lake's edge, and Yoongi can see he's halfway to giving up because Jungkook is on his competitive streak again.
Namjoon is one of his closest friends. He met him in college when they were both fresh out of highschool and riding on shotgun dreams of being more than what they are. He remembers meeting you during spring break of his junior year, and you were blabbering about getting accepted into the same college as Namjoon; determined to follow your brother to the end of time.
The only word to describe your first meeting was awkward, to say the least. He'd only ever heard of you, with Namjoon going off about you whenever Yoongi lent his ear. His baby sister who was doing so well in school, his baby sister, who to Namjoon, practically hung the moon in the sky. Now, Yoongi thinks he's naturally awkward when meeting new people, he can't help it. Getting to know someone is hard no matter how much you hear about them, even though you've got a pretty good impression just by word of mouth. There were shy 'hi's' and the most soul crushing 'See you later's' when there's little to no chance of ever seeing that person again. Sweaty, nervous hands meeting in shakes and straight lipped smiles.
Now, Yoongi was sure he wasn't too bad at it. And you were good, smiling brightly, not looking as awkward as he felt. What was awkward was the way Namjoon had excused himself to his parent's kitchen, pretending to get a glass of water. Yoongi had followed him with his eyes, because why was he leaving him standing in front of his sister alone?
Yoongi still remembers the chill that went down his spine that morning, as Namjoon watched him dead in the eyes over your head. A look Yoongi had never once received from him before, one that simply said: "If you think anything about my sister that isn't innocent; you will die."
As a best friend, Yoongi respected that. As a man, Yoongi valued his life. He wouldn't dare. It's the code, do not, under any circumstances, think about your best friend's sister romantically or less. You were off limits from the day Namjoon showed Yoongi that picture of you.
Off limits.
Yoongi heard that loud and clear and Namjoon hadn't said a word that day.
You were off limits, still, when you'd called him at ass o'clock in the morning - not Namjoon, your brother who trusted with everything - about some smarmy asshole who thought it was funny to break your heart. When he picked you up outside a bar where you were supposed to meet your boyfriend of a year, standing in the rain, soaked to the bone, crying and slightly drunk.
Looking beautiful even when you had stumbled your way to his car, asking what did you do to deserve getting cheated on. He didn't answer you then, he had too much to say and it wasn't the time, not when you were drunk and wouldn't remember a thing when the sun came up. So he cranked up the heat in his car, and white knuckled the steering wheel the whole drive to his apartment, because yours was too far and it was late.
Off the whole damn table, when you'd kissed him on the mouth, still drunk, still crying and clinging onto him in his living room. He pushed you gently away, even as he licked his lips to chase the taste of you. Keeping the distance between you both wide as he watched you shatter like glass in his hold. You apologized through your sobs, and Yoongi's own heart broke as he tried and failed to pick up the pieces of yours scattered at your feet.
You asked him not to tell Namjoon, and Yoongi never said a damn word. You slept in his bed that night, in his clothes that were way too big for you, and left the next day like nothing happened.
You're still off limits now, even as you've grown up and are going into your senior year. Now that Yoongi finished college and had a job like a responsible adult, now his biggest worry is the price of bread climbing up and whatever the hell was on the news.
"Namjoon, we agreed that you weren't gonna come within 10ft of this space."
Yoongi looks up to find Namjoon wandering aimlessly towards them, holding a bowl of something in his hand. He stops dead in his tracks though, frowning, "I'm not that clumsy."
Yoongi and Seokjin share a look, before raising an eyebrow each at Namjoon. He sighs, lifting the bowl in his hand, "Hobi told me to tell you that Jungkook told him..."
"For Christ's sake..." Seokjin sighs, "Just get over here."
Namjoon grins like a kid, hobbling over to place the bowl next to Yoongi's busy hands. The bowl filled with slices of pork belly that Yoongi forgot he told Namjoon to fetch for him a long while ago. Too distracted to ask about it when he was skipping stones with Jungkook, he didn't even notice when he'd moved to get it.
He wonders what else he missed, lost in his own thoughts, and his eyes dart around to catch sight of you. Of course, you were no longer in the spot you'd claimed, now standing next to Jungkook. Both of you are laughing at Jimin, who was struggling to reach a branch of a tree that Jungkook could easily reach without stretching. You attempt it, jumping to reach, but you just don't make it and it's Jimin's turn to laugh, all crescent eyes and round cheeks.
At least someone's having fun.
Seokjin was mumbling something as he pokes at the coals in the grill, and Yoongi avoids looking at Namjoon because he realised he's staring again. He's awfully quiet, and Yoongi isn't sure if it's because of him, and he really doesn't want to risk his life here.
"'Autumn is the season that teaches us that change can be beautiful.'" Namjoon says, and Yoongi finds that he wasn't even looking his way. Instead, he was watching the lake with an odd look in his eyes, distant, like if he was thinking about something too hard and struggling to grasp it. At the same time though, he looked like he knew exactly what he was talking about; smiling to himself. He pats Yoongi cryptically on the back - a little forcefully - catching him off guard, and says nothing more as he walks away.
"We all know what it means when Joon starts quoting." Seokjin snickers, "You're so screwed."
Yoongi hums, and Seokjin gives him a knowing look, a look that says way more than what Yoongi is comfortable with, and he wonders, briefly, if he was being obvious, or if Seokjin was more observant than he gave him credit for.
"I hope the weather holds up." Seokjin mumbles, head tilted up and leaning slightly forward over the table to see past the awning above, he watches the sky with a small frown, "Said it was gonna rain sometime today."
Yoongi is grateful for the subject change, dumping the seasoning he chopped up into a bowl. He glances at the lake, at the reflection of the clouds on the water, they look a little gray with the promise of rain. He doesn't mind the rain, though, if it does, Taehyung's plan of sitting around the fire with marshmallows on a wire would be completely dashed.
Yoongi's not sure he could deal with the kid pouting all night because of it, and he hoped that the weather held up, too.
When lunch was ready, it was a little after two pm. The picnic table was clear of leaves that were raked to the side and into piles to deal with later. Hoseok finally crawled out of the bunk room, hair sticking up in odd angles and eyes sleepy still as he helped set the table with you and Jimin.
Yoongi walks over to the table with the small cooler he'd brought with him, packed full with ice and cans of beer, because what's lunch without it?
Seokjin walks behind, still prattling on about the weather, hoping for a little sunshine later on so he could get in the rowboat and swing his fishing rod around. He may have asked Yoongi if he wanted to come with him, but Yoongi was once again distracted; your soft laugh tunnelling his focus.
He sighs, internally, because God forbid anyone hears and starts asking invasive questions. Taehyung, of course, was clinging to you, not letting you move two spaces out of his orbit. Which of course, wasn't strange, Taehyung was just clingy that way; always stuck to someone like a kitten that hasn't yet learned to regulate its temperature.
The sight of it though, makes Yoongi's chest ache in a way that wasn't unfamiliar to him. The kind of ache that squeezes tight and knocks the air out of him, the ache he felt that night in his apartment living room when you kissed him. Thinking about it now makes the ache worse, because Yoongi knows what that kiss was, he knows what it meant and exactly where it came from. You were reeling that night, fresh out of a relationship that ended in a way you never saw coming, and that's where it came from. You were drunk, hurting, and attached yourself emotionally to the first person to treat you nicely.
It just happened to be Yoongi at the time.
He hates to think about it that way, as though it meant nothing when he wanted it to mean something. Yoongi likes to take things the way they came, there's nothing more than what it was, nothing to decipher or to sit and mull over. Not like he did that night, sitting up late on his couch, long after you'd passed out, then beating himself up about the whole thing because he was this close to laying his heart out at that moment.
He's glad he didn't. When you left the morning after, he wasn't even awake, woke up to his empty bed and quiet apartment. No note, no text - not that you owed him anything - so he left it as it was; unspoken.
He passes everyone a beer, avoiding your gaze when your hand brushes his, ignoring the soft smile on your lips that brightens your eyes and makes his chest hurt. He moves around the table and takes his seat in between Seokjin and Hoseok. He's sitting directly across from you, and to his rotten luck, Namjoon sits to your left, which puts Yoongi within his direct line of sight. He wonders if he'll be able to keep his eyes to himself, not get caught staring at you, even if your brother wasn't even paying him mind. Yoongi is cautious, still.
The chatter that fills the air is gentle, with laughs and catching up with each other. It was hard to find the time to do things like this, everyone was busy with their own schedules; the younger ones had school, the rest of them had work. Shit always get in the way.
Yoongi eyes Taehyung, who sits to your right and was poking at your arm more than he was eating. He had half a mind to tell Taehyung to quit it, the little devil on his shoulder telling him that he should; poking at his cheek and pointing. It isn't his place, though.
There's a twinkle in Taehyung's eye when their eyes meet, something mischievous that Yoongi would normally see from him when he was up to something. He turns slightly to you, whispering something to you with a hand covering the movement of his lips.
Yoongi's curious, he wonders what he's saying that makes your cheeks flush a pretty shade. Wonders what it is, when your eyes meet his for a second and you swat at Taehyung's hand. The younger man was clearly pleased with himself, smiling eyes meeting Yoongi's for a second too long, and Yoongi busies himself with stuffing his mouth with food.
"Think the water's cold?" Jungkook was looking out at the lake, doe eyes curious, his tongue absently fiddling with the ring in his lip.
"It's still early in the season..." Jimin answers, piling a spoonful of rice onto his plate, following Jungkook's gaze a moment after. "Wouldn't risk it though."
"I mean, you can if you want." Yoongi shrugs, "Just don't complain when you catch a cold."
Jungkook pouts, leaning his weight against Hoseok with a groan. Everyone knows Jungkook well enough to know that's exactly what he'd do, and then abuse his position as the youngest for the rest of their stay at the lake house.
The table was silent for a while, everyone occupied with stuffing their faces with the food, interrupted when Namjoon laughed at something Jimin said and choked on the rice in his mouth and is now nursing a bottle of water.
Yoongi missed this, just hanging out with his friends like they were back in college sneaking beer into the dorms and laughing over their drunken rambles. Just being.
Once lunch was over, they cleared the table of the bowls and plates, carrying everything inside to be washed up.
"I'll do the dishes," Hoseok says, balancing the large pot with plates and eating utensils in his hands.
"I'll do them, Hobi." Yoongi takes the pot from Hoseok's lax fingers, not giving him room to complain before he takes everything to the kitchen.
Yoongi misses the way Taehyung pokes your side, he did hear the smack of you hitting the offending limb, though. "I'll help you."
Yoongi feels his shoulders tense, and he tries to ignore it, setting the pot into the sink, while the boys place the other dirty dishes. He watches you for a moment, as you busy yourself packing away the seasoning and packets of spices back into their rightful places. He starts on the dishes, hyper aware of your presence somewhere behind him, but tries his best to keep it as far from the front of his mind as he could.
At some point, you switch places, and Yoongi takes up the task of drying the bowls and plates, packing them where they're supposed to be. He doesn't question it, just grateful to have something to do with his hands, mindful, to keep his head empty, because if his mind strays just a bit, he'll be thinking of things he really shouldn't. Off limit things. Like how he wished he'd just suck it up and kissed you back that night instead of pushing you away like he did. But, that would've been wrong of him, no? It wasn't the time and you weren't in the right frame of mind.
Yoongi skirts by you, packing the bowls back into the cupboard. This is awkward, maybe he should have let Hoseok do it when he said he would.
"Can I ask you something?" You suddenly ask, and Yoongi almost drops the bowl he's holding, not expecting you to speak because you've been so quiet. He glances over to the living room, where Namjoon and Jin are starting up a game of Mario Kart before he turns to look at you. Why does he always do that? It feels as though he's sneaking around for no reason whatsoever, always looking to make sure that Namjoon isn't looking at him.
"Uh, sure?" God, is it just him that's awkward? You look perfectly fine, elbow deep in soap water, scrubbing away at something in the sink, a small smile on your lips. Yoongi wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans, bringing them back up to stuff them into the pockets of his sweater. Play it cool, Min. "What's up?"
You turn your head, looking at him, and he swallows. The sink slowly drains, making that odd sucking noise as the water goes down and you look like you're struggling to grasp your words. There's a cute furrow between your brows, and Yoongi doesn't miss the way you bite your lip and look everywhere but at him.
Jin swears at Namjoon in rapid fire, in that way he does when he's got too much to say and not enough breath. Yoongi could see his arms flying up and swatting at Namjoon's shoulder, yelling about the blue shell he threw.
You take a breath, eyes settling somewhere above his head, clearly trying to block out Jin's racket, "Well...um..." You glance at him and look away, and Yoongi's just a little hopeful.
You look nervous, for once, wringing the life out of the dish towel in your hand as you press your lips together. There's a crease at your brow and Yoongi wonders what's bugging you. There were times when you'd freely spill your thoughts, up with him all ungodly hours just talking because that's what brother's best friends do, right? Offer comfort and a space to vent that isn't in the viewpoint of your sibling? He wonders what changed.
He knows though. It was that night, after that, things have been tense between you both, Yoongi just wishes it'd stop. He misses you texting him to tell him how your day went, or you constantly reminding him that he's way cooler than your older brother. He watches you now, if just to see you get even more flustered, even though he didn't know why.
Hope is an evil, never necessarily a good thing, if all it does is make you believe that something would work even though there's a slim chance that it actually would. Yoongi hates that he's hopeful right now. Hates that he's hoping that the flush of your cheeks and your nervous fidgeting has something to do with him, he hates that he wished you'd just spit it out already and stop his mind from coming up with all these things.
"Okay." You sigh, nodding more to yourself in a self-assured kind of way. Your eyes find his, briefly, before darting away, "Okay, so, I wanted to-"
"Hey, Y/n. Wanna play a round of Mario Kart with me?" Taehyung asks, walking into the kitchen with a smile, eyes filtering between you and Yoongi before they settle on you again. He pauses when you snap your mouth shut, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and slowly look at him. You and Taehyung share a look that Yoongi's not too certain he wants to know what's about; the silence between you three is too loud.
"What?" the younger man asks, "Did I interrupt something?"
"No."
"Yes."
Yoongi stares at Taehyung, trying his hardest not to glare at him, because what you wanted to say was clearly important. You were staring at him, Yoongi could feel it, but he's giving you an opening to say what you need to.
"No, Tae, you didn't. I'll play." You smile a little forcefully, finally giving the dishcloth a break and laying it down on the island counter. "I'll tell you later?" You tilt your head at Yoongi and he can only nod, hopeful again, that you really would and not find an easy out.
"Okay."
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"Tae, can't we do this later or something?" You frown, speaking lowly as he wraps his arm with yours and drags you away, "I was actually really close this time."
"Yeah, no. You looked like you needed saving. So you're welcome." Taehyung shakes his head, curls swaying, "One day, little butterfly, you'll be free to spill your feelings." He sits you down on the couch next to Namjoon, who thankfully, has his earphones in his ears. Jin had already wandered off to do God knows after his defeat, leaving your brother to fiddle mindlessly with his phone.
You can hear Yoongi moving around in the kitchen, probably still packing away the dishes. Taehyung plops next to you, throwing his legs over yours and almost knocking Namjoon's phone out his hands. He starts up the game after passing you a remote, smiling at you, "He'll probably come over here to watch the game, so I'll lose and he could play against you, yeah?"
"Tae..." You groan, tilting your head back, and he pats your arm in a friendly manner, though a little firm in his delivery.
"If you don't tell him now that's fine..." He points at Namjoon with a tilt of his chin, trying to remind you of your brother's presence without being obvious. "But at least you could spend time with him. Never know what could happen." He wiggles his eyebrows.
Evidently, Taehyung's the only person who knows about that night with Yoongi. He was the one who picked you up from his apartment after all, firing question after question and not giving you room to breathe. Though he was a tad upset that he wasn't your first call when you were stranded, he understood why you'd called Yoongi. At the same time, he gave you an earful about just leaving the man hanging after you kissed him. Something you shouldn't have done in that moment, lord knows what Yoongi thinks of you now.
You've tried and failed so many times to tell Yoongi that you weren't as drunk as you seemed that night three months ago, you knew what you were doing. You were hurt, yes, but it was more out of realisation. Your relationship with your ex had been rocky at best, you'd given into his advances to hopefully put your crush on Yoongi behind you. It was easy at first, to have someone to put your focus on and give yourself to rather than to waste it on someone who didn't see you the way you saw him.
Yoongi has always seen you as his best friend's sister, nothing more. And you'd kissed him that night hoping that even for a second he'd realise, but he pushed you away and you knew there was no use hoping.
Even now, embarrassment still burns at your chest when you think about it, because what were you thinking? You'd left without saying anything to him because you were positively mortified. There were hundreds of unfinished texts that started and ended the same, with you contemplating if you should tell him or not.
More often than not, a tipsy night would find you huddled under your sheets with your finger hovering over Yoongi's contact.
It was more likely that he still saw you as the fresh out of highschool kid who followed him and your brother everywhere.
You groan loudly at your own thoughts, and Taehyung turns his head, looking between you and the TV screen, "Uh....You can play Toad if you want.."
"Huh?" The choose your character screen is up, idle, waiting for you to move your joystick around. Taehyung's already picked, "No, it's not that. I don't even like Toad, you can play him."
"That's the rudest thing that's ever come out of your mouth." Taehyung pokes your side with a finger, "What's on your mind?"
"Everything." You sigh, scrolling around to pick a random character. Don't get it wrong, you love Mario Kart as much as the next guy, but right now your mind was far, far away from this moment and the game.
Taehyung pats your thigh, "Maybe losing will help." He snickers, just as the game starts up.
"Oh, you're on." You're not gonna lose, no matter how confident Taehyung is, no one could beat you at Mario Kart.
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"Cheater! TaehYUNG. Joon tell Tae to stop do- You're cheating!"
"It's literally impossible to cheat at this game!"
Yoongi leans back against the island counter, content to watch you crash and burn as Taehyung wins yet another race. His victory laugh is deep, almost unheard under the sound of your indignant screeching. The rest of the boys gathered to see what you were yelling about, finding the sight of your losing streak more than entertaining.
Yoongi had paused only for a moment, making a light snack that everyone could enjoy if they wanted to, though, it was only an excuse to make your favourite. He watches as you scoot to the edge of the couch, he can't see your expression, but he doesn't doubt that you're pouting with the cute furrow of your brows that comes with your concentration.
"Namjoon." You whine to your brother, though Namjoon's hands fly up into the air, phone and all.
"Nope, leave me out of this."
"But he's cheating!"
"I'm not! You just suck."
Yoongi picks up the tray of Hotteok as soon as everyone calms down, carrying it over to the group. He rests the tray down on the coffee table, careful to move quickly so he doesn't block the screen for too long.
"Oh! Sweet! Thanks Yoongi." Namjoon is the first to move, leaning forward to grab one.
"Wait, Joon. They're ho-" Yoongi snaps his mouth shut as Namjoon has already picked it up. He promptly drops it, pulling air through his teeth before blowing on his fingertips.
"Ow." Namjoon pouts at his fingers, rubbing them against the material of his grey sweats.
Yoongi sighs, "Be careful, would you?" He focuses on the TV screen, you're directly behind Taehyung, throwing a blue shell that sends him skidding off the road just in time for you to cross the finish line.
"Ha!" You push at Taehyung's shoulder in your excitement, sending him against Namjoon, who drops his Hotteok on the floor.
Namjoon stares forlornly at the pancake for a quiet moment, while you do a victory wiggle in your place, his misfortune ignored.
"Well there you go, who wants to play?" Taehyung asks, glancing around the room. Jungkook waves his arm, getting up from his space on the floor by Hoseok's legs to totter over. "Yoongi! Nice of you to volunteer."
"What? I didn't...?" Yoongi stares at Taehyung like he's sprouted a second head.
Taehyung ignores him.
"Hey I wanted to play..." Jungkook whines, Taehyung ignores him, too.
"Guys, let's go take a nap in the bunk room." He stretches his long legs over Namjoon's, pulling him up by the arms and shares a look with Jungkook who was likely, as confused as everyone else.
"I'm not tired, though. I napped when I got here." Hoseok pipes up, pressing his lips together when Jimin not so subtly nudges his side with an elbow.
"Let's go take a nap." Taehyung repeats, eyes narrowing slightly at Hoseok. He relents under Taehyung's gaze, sighing as he stands and drags Jimin and a complaining Jungkook.
Taehyung smiles brightly, dropping his hands heavily on Yoongi's shoulders. Yoongi doesn't know what the kid's playing at, but allows him to direct him to sit next to you.
Yoongi shares a look with Seokjin, who shrugs and stands to leave too, linking his arm with Namjoon, "I found a book I think you'd like Joon. But we have to look for it, it's lost in my bedroom somewhere..."
"Oh...Kay? Sure."
Their voices trail off as they head up the stairs, and Taehyung waves as he backs out of the living room, with a sweet - suspicious - boxy smile."Have fun you two!"
"Okay what the hell." Yoongi mutters, turning his head to look at you. You didn't look his way, staring dead ahead at the TV, fingers tapping lightly at the control.
He hears you take a breath, "Wanna play Toad?"
"Uh...sure."
A few minutes go by before Yoongi could finally relax, getting comfortable on the couch focusing on the game and not the fact that you're less than a metre away from him. You're nibbling on a piece of hotteok, a little too quiet for Yoongi's liking. He was expecting you to be yelling because he's way ahead of you.
"So...can I ask you a question?" Yoongi keeps his eyes on the screen as he asks, afraid to look at you because he might slip up or stop all together. He could already hear the little voice in his head screaming at him to shut up. "I just wanna ask about...what you wanted to tell me in the kitchen?"
Yoongi doesn't normally pry, people's business are theirs and not his. But curiosity is driving him up a wall and he just needs to know. Maybe he was being foolishly hopeful again, thinking that whatever it was had something to do with him. That's why you hadn't said anything when Taehyung interrupted, right?
Yoongi wonders what Taehyung's deal was, first he was being too clingy with you - not that it's any of his business - and now he's acting so painfully obvious; trying to get you both in a room alone. It didn't go over Yoongi's head, as not a lot of things do.
He purposely lets you win the race, though, your victory was unsounded as you set the controller aside. "Right... kitchen..."
"You know you could tell me anything, right?" Yoongi says softly, fingers just wanting to reach for yours, if just to offer comfort. He tucks them against his palm though, and into the pouch of his sweater for an extra precaution.
"Yeah I know," You smile faintly, "like old times right?"
"Yeah exactly, and I won't judge, you know that. So whatever it is, just say it."
Maybe his words were a bit harsh? You stiffen a bit in place, sighing through your nose before you turn to look at him. The determination from earlier is back in your eyes again, and Yoongi finds it impossible to hold your gaze, and he's the first to look away this time. Keep it together, will you?
He feels heat climbing his neck, racing to each of his cheeks and he hopes to god you just think he's going pink because it's cold in here. Seokjin really needs to get that crappy heater fixed so Yoongi can blame something if you ask about it.
"Okay so remember the time when you-"
"You two are being awfully quiet." Seokjin pokes his head into the room, staring at you both, but not too long, before his eyes find the tv screen. "Oh, Yoongi, did you win?"
"No..." Yoongi sighs, watching as you shut him out once more.
"Really? It was so quiet..."
You make an offended sound in the back of your throat, straightening a bit to glare at Seokjin.
"Yoongi, can you help me with the firepit?"
Yoongi follows Seokjin outside along the wrap-around porch, the sun was halfway in its descent, painting the sky in a flurry of soft colours. The lake glistens with amber crystals, catching the sun's sleepy gaze as it drifts slowly off behind the hills; almost out of sight.
The sunken fire pit was in the backyard, something Yoongi helped Seokjin install last year. He's quite proud of it really, he did most of the heavy lifting while Seokjin stood around telling him how and where he wanted things like a glorified dictator.
As Seokjin gathers the firewood and steps down the three steps to throw the logs into the firepit, Yoongi realises that he didn't actually need any help.
"Watching you try to talk to Y/n is so painful. Like that time I broke my arm but worse."
"I actually wasn't doing the talking." Yoongi grumbles, enjoying the satisfying crunch of gravel under his sandals as he walks over to the cushioned semi circle bench and sits to watch Seokjin do all the work. "You have terrible timing."
Seokjin scoffs, shaking his head, "It's a wonder Namjoon hasn't figured it out yet...you're so obvious."
Yoongi feels like Seokjin just isn't listening to him, continuing his mission of getting the fire going; his words completely ignored.
"Joon is oblivious sometimes."
"You are too."
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"Here, this one's longer."
Yoongi watches as Seokjin trades wires with Jungkook, patting him on the shoulder as the younger man happily sticks his marshmallow on the end of his wire. As usual when they're all together, there's laughter in the air, and the lightness Yoongi feels in his chest is something he misses when he's alone.
He watches the moon rise behind the trees, full and glowing brightly in the cloudless sky. The fire was warm, the burning wood crackling softly, sending little glowing sparks up into the air. Everyone had their own bag of marshmallows for toasting, with chocolate and biscuits for s'mores.
"This is nice," Hoseok comments, smacking Jimin's hand away from the smores he was setting up, tucking them into the corner of a small bowl he brought. Jimin gets one anyway; sneaking it away while Hoseok wasn't looking.
"Yeah, we haven't done this in forever." Namjoon sticks the wire with his marshmallow a little too close to the fire.
"It's gonna burn if you do it like that." Yoongi reaches over and raises Namjoon's hand higher.
"When it's burnt it's the best, though."
"Are you a sadist?" Taehyung frowns at Jungkook, "it's better when it's just a little toasty."
"It won't melt inside if you play kiss and tell with the fire. You gotta burn it." Jungkook's marshmallow was just on the edge of charred and Yoongi watches with mild disgust as he smushes the thing between pieces of chocolate and unsweetened biscuits. He shoves the entire thing in his mouth and closes his eyes, moaning around the treat like it's the best thing he's ever tasted.
"Um? There's no way you're enjoying that." Hoseok didn't try to hide how he felt about it, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook. "Stop moaning like that!"
"I wasn't moaning!"
"Yes you were!"
Yoongi shakes his head, turning to look at you, who sat next to him, eating out of your own bag of marshmallows. The wire Seokjin had given you is still in your lap, untouched.
"Want me to make one for you?" He asks softly, already sticking a marshmallow on his wire. He hangs it over the fire and twirls it so it gets nice and brown, "Do you want it with the cookies?"
"Yeah, thanks." You smile sweetly at him, and Yoongi feels his heart stutter in his chest.
Once he's finished assembling the s'more, he hands it over to you. You take a bite out of it, and Yoongi struggles to breathe the very next second at the sound you make, turning his head swiftly to stare into the fire as though it would save him.
"Dude, Y/n. That's gotta be the best s'more ever created." Taehyung says, snickering from across the firepit, "Yoongi make me one, too!"
"You can make it yourself." Yoongi's cheeks flush, passing you a bottle of water when you choke.
"I wanna make happy noises, too."
When the fire in the pit smolders and the embers of the wood burn orange, everyone is ready to call it a night. The younger ones escape to the second floor bunk room first, Seokjin and Hoseok right behind them.
Hoseok is trying to convince Seokjin to flip a coin for the master bedroom while they go up the stairs.
"Owner's rights, Hobi."
"You have any idea what it's like to share a bathroom with those three? Have a heart!"
Their voices fade, and Yoongi is left standing in the entryway with you and Namjoon, feeling awkward and not quite sure what he should do with his hands. So he shoves them in the pockets of his sweatpants, and drags his feet towards the kitchen, suddenly thirsty.
You and Namjoon are talking in hushed tones, too quiet for him to hear, but he pays it no mind, it isn't his business, really.
You come in a second later, moving to the fridge just as Yoongi moves past you, and he's a little curious, a little worried, because you look a bit upset. There's a frown tugging at the corner of your mouth as you crack open a bottle of water.
"Everything okay?" Yoongi asks softly, fingers just itching to reach out for you, but he holds his own bottled water a little tighter instead.
"Yeah...Joon is just..." You shake your head, "Are you staying up to watch the movie with us?"
Your change of subject didn't surprise Yoongi, you've been doing that a lot today. He lifts his shoulder in a shrug, "I might...do you want me to?"
Yoongi would give you anything you ask for right now, hell, he'd find a way to pull the moon from the sky if you asked it of him.
"Huh?" Your eyes seems panicked for a second as they dart away to stare off elsewhere. "If you want to, it's up to you really."
"Then I'll watch." He gives an easy smile, "Are you sure you're okay?" He steps closer, a hand meeting your cheek gently, unintentionally and without Yoongi's consent. Simply out of his need to offer you comfort when he can, and maybe it's his wishful thinking, maybe it's that stupid thing called hope again; Yoongi swears you lean into his touch. Your skin is warm, like cooling tea on a winter's morning.
"I'm fine," You're staring at his lips as you say this, and Yoongi's heart skips before it gallops, threatening to burst from his chest. Maybe he's imagining it, but you move a step closer, and he does too, leaning down a bit to meet your height, "I just wanted to.."
Just another inch, if he moves just an inch closer. You're so close now that your exhales mingles with his in the space between you both, he could feel the chill seeping off the bottled water you hold, pressed against his stomach where your hands linger.
Yoongi decides he's not going to be awkward right now, he's going to be brave and just do this. He's going to kiss you and pour everything he feels into it, and hope - prays - that you feel it too.
"Ahem."
You and Yoongi both spring apart like teenagers caught doing something they shouldn't. Yoongi's cheeks are heating up too quickly for him to stop it, and yours are too, and he doesn't want to turn around because he knows who's behind him.
Think fast, Yoongi. Think.
"I hope your eye feels better. You should kiss - rinse! Rinse with warm water. 'Cause you know...germs...could uh.... get in there.... "
Really? Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, already anticipating his death when he turns to face the grim reaper behind him.
Namjoon stands in the kitchen doorway, eyebrow raised, doing that thing he does with his jaw. Yoongi feels a little faint, looking at the ugly painting Taehyung convinced Seokjin to buy and hang up in the living room over his head.
"Y/n had something in her eye and I was just checking." He looks back at you and you look just as confused as he's feeling, smiling though, as if his misery is funny to you. "R-remember. Warm water, okay?"
With that he leaves, not looking at Namjoon, who's gaze he could feel at the back of his head.
"Joon, are you serious?" Your voice was a harsh whisper, a little loud in the silence of the kitchen.
Yoongi walks away, hands in his pockets, not catching Namjoon's reply as he makes his escape. What the fuck was that?
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"Let's watch The Conjuring."
"Fuck that." Hoseok puts his palms up, "Unless you're willing to cuddle me to sleep, we're not watching that movie."
A chorus of groans fills the room, "For the love of God, just pick something already. Not you, Jungkook."
"It's not my fault Hobi's a coward."
Hoseok's reaches over Seokjin to smack the back of Jungkook's head, who immediately retaliates by hitting Seokjin instead. The three of them trade playful smacks for a moment, while Taehyung and Jimin argue about which movie would be best to watch.
"Okay let's just all pick something." You say, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers, "Rock, paper, scissors, whoever wins; we'll watch."
Terrible idea really, everyone knows Jungkook is going to win.
Yoongi opts out, not really caring what goes up on the screen. He's sitting with his hands under his thighs, trying to keep them warm but at the same time, keeping them from doing something stupid. You're right next to him on the couch, he's once again hyper aware of your closeness, the way your arm would brush his every time you moved, the scent of your shampoo, soft and fruit scented.
He focuses on the way a single tear slips from Hoseok's eye, the way he tries to make himself as small as possible on the other couch next to Seokjin with a white knuckled grip on the latter's sweater. Jungkook triumphs in his endeavour of beating everyone who played against him, laughing, carefree and malicious as he pulls up The Conjuring.
Hoseok keeps his head tucked behind Seokjin's shoulder for most of the movie, clinging to him and jumping at every loud sound from the TV; poor guy's going through it.
Yoongi is just barely watching, staring at the screen, but not really following along - he has no idea what's going on. Mind too distracted with the fact that you chose to sit next to him and not next to anyone else. He's still reeling from the incident in the kitchen, glancing at Namjoon who was stuffing his face with popcorn, form outlined in the glow of the tv.
He could feel the warmth of your thigh through his sweatpants, and every little movement you'd make at the jumpscares and the loud sounds.
Hoseok dips halfway through, going up the darkened upstairs hallway with his phone torch on. Jungkook had the audacity to fall asleep, drooling on Seokjin's shoulder and mumbling unintelligible words; unbothered.
"I'm going to bed." Yoongi says to you, not really sleepy, but not interested in the movie enough to stay and watch. You grab at his hand and he pauses, "What?"
"You're leaving me here to suffer?"
"You're a big girl, you can take it." He shrugs, patting your hand before getting up. "Night guys."
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Yoongi lays quietly in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown, unable to sleep. He turns his head, looking at the clock that blinks sleepily back at him and sighs, it's getting later into the night and sleep continues to evade him.
The house seemed to have quieted, the sound of Jimin and Taehyung arguing about who gets to use the upstairs bathroom first stopped a while ago, though, the stillness only allowed Yoongi's mind to wander off. He wonders if you're sleeping yet, he knows you have trouble sometimes, a common curse you both share.
He wonders about what you and Namjoon argued about, if it had anything to do with him. God he hopes not. The last thing he wants is for you and your brother to fall out because of him.
There's a soft knock on his door, quiet enough that he almost misses it. Just almost.
Yoongi gets out of bed, dragging his feet to the door. He isn't completely shocked to find you on the other side, looking like you're two seconds from walking away. Your hand still hovers, eyes impossibly big when they meet his in the soft light of the downstairs hallway.
"Hi." You say, softly, hand falling and gripping at the hem of a tee shirt he's sure belongs to Namjoon.
"...Hi?" Yoongi's brows furrow, not quite sure what you're doing knocking on his door at one in the morning, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just wanted to talk to you..." He lets you shuffle into his room, and you walk over to the bed while he closes the door.
"What I wanted to tell you earlier..." You sit on his bed, a good distance away, enough to leave the space between you both cold and Yoongi longing for you to come closer. You seem to be struggling, staying quiet for a little too long.
"Hey." Yoongi calls, "Whatever it is, you can tell me, okay? You know I'd never judge you." He feels the need to repeat himself, just in case you need to hear it again.
"You will." You glance at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth, and you shake your head, "This was stupid..."
"Hey, hey." Yoongi grabs your wrist, stopping you from getting up. "How about I look over there?" He points at a random spot beside him with a thumb, "I won't look at you and you can just say it." He turns for good measure, staring at the wall on the far side of the room.
You're silent for a moment, a long moment that has Yoongi wondering. Maybe he should stop pestering you about it, bury his curiosity - his concern - in a box somewhere to forget about. He's been on your back about it for most of the day, granted, the universe apparently didn't want you to say anything, not with the way you were constantly interrupted every time you tried to talk about it. He should take that as a sign and drop it all together.
"You okay back there?" Yoongi asks softly, turning his head slightly, but not facing you.
"I wasn't really drunk." You say
Confused, Yoongi's brows furrow, "Huh?" He turns to face you, "What are you talking about?"
"The night you picked me up outside that bar." You're not looking at him, instead, you're looking down at your hands in your lap. The events of that night comes rushing to the front of Yoongi's mind, the way you kissed him, how soft your lips were.
"Wait, so..." Something in Yoongi's ears was buzzing, loud and distracting, as realization dawned, he feels a heat rising from his toes. "You-" he stands quickly from the bed, now that he knows exactly why you've been trying to say all day, he thinks he just might lose it.
"Why'd you leave without saying anything?" It's the first thing out of his mouth and Yoongi wishes he'd just shut up.
"I was embarrassed that I just kissed you out of nowhere like that. And you pushed me away, what else was I supposed to do?" You say in a rush, "I know you only see me as Namjoon's little sister."
"I don't." Yoongi says, and at your pause, his palms start to sweat, heart kicking against his ribcage. "Why did you kiss me that night?"
"You probably think it was because I was drunk. That wasn't it." You look him in the eye, "I wanted to."
Yoongi takes a breath and a moment to think carefully about what he's about to say, "Y/n." He runs his palms against his thighs, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "You were drunk. Just out of a relationship and you only kissed me because you were hurting, that's it."
"That's not-" You sigh loudly, pursing your lips and staring at the ceiling, "Do you even know why I dated that idiot? It's because you..." You trail off, picking at a loose thread on your t shirt.
Yoongi waits, giving you the moment you need to gather your words.
"I dated him so that I could forget you." You say softly, not looking at him, and Yoongi feels like he's buffering, like a frozen computer screen. Just standing there as he processes your words, it's taking a while to sink in, or they have, Yoongi is only trying to understand them. "I thought that dating him you would..."
Yoongi sighs, "Tell me something, yeah?"
You nod quietly, waiting. Yoongi watches you for a moment, he's more curious now, "How long?"
He watches as you fluster, eyes darting around to look at anywhere that isn't him. The way your fingers pinch at the dark sheets on the bed, you draw your bottom lip between your teeth and Yoongi just wants to kiss you. But as he's been doing all day, he gives you a moment; Yoongi is nothing but patient.
"Since we met?"
Is that a question? There Yoongi goes buffering again. He blinks a couple of times, mind going through the motions of his forced epiphany. The moments when you used to follow him and Namjoon around, all the staying up late texting as though you both were more than you were at the time.
"I really really like you and I tried to show you that night, but well..."
You get up from his bed with a sigh and step towards him and Yoongi tries his best not to take a step back, he allows you to reach him, to stand close enough for him to touch. He's panicking, on the inside, a voice in the back of his mind telling him that this is a terrible idea and that he should probably stop you.
He can't bring himself to, words stuck in his throat.
You're closer now, Yoongi could feel the warmth of you, and he swears this time that he'll be brave. So he kisses you first, fingers tangling in your hair, a hand gripping your waist to pull you even closer. He feels your hands against his chest as his eyes close, your lips are warm and as soft as he remembers, and he groans at the taste of you. His tongue finds yours, slowly, sliding against yours and he wants to savour this, commit your every sound to memory. Yoongi groans when your hands slide into his hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck.
He pulls back for air, lungs trying to take in as much air as possible, too quickly, he feels lightheaded. But that could just be because of you. He presses a fleeting kiss at the corner of your mouth, nose brushing against yours lightly. He's pretty sure this is what being high feels like, the rushing of his blood in his ears and the tingling at the tips of his fingers.
"You're gonna end me." Namjoon will too. The thought alone was enough to make Yoongi pause, realise the grip he had on your hips. One of his hands is just shy of the exposed skin under your tee shirt, hyper aware of the way your chest is pressed to his, your lips on his neck.
Namjoon is going to kill him.
He feels your teeth nip at the skin of his neck and he hisses between his teeth, your tongue follows. He pulls away, pushing you from him gently to take a couple steps back. He sees the question in your eyes, the soft furrow of your brows. He sighs through his nose, thinking about how much of a terrible idea this was, and how Namjoon would very likely drown him in the lake.
"Y/n...we can't." This was the reason he pushed you away the first time. Yoongi likes to think ahead, think about all the outcomes of a situation before he walks into it. This could go two ways, and Yoongi's mind can only focus on the worst scenario. What if this goes wrong? What if doing this now ruins everything, he'd not only lose you, but Namjoon as well.
He sees your pout and he looks away, wondering why he can't just let it happen and deal with the consequences later. But Yoongi isn't like that. He likes to sit and over think things.
"Is this about Namjoon?"
Yoongi startles at your question, jolting a bit as he drops his hands from your waist, fingers curling against his palm. He's not as good at hiding his thoughts as he presumed, or you just knew him too well for his own good. He answers your question with a silent nod, not meeting your eyes in the darkness of his room.
"Yoongi. He wouldn't care. Namjoon can't do anything, what I do isn't his business."
Yoongi goes to argue that that's not the point. You were so off the mark that he almost laughed, Namjoon wouldn't care what you thought. He wouldn't be able to look past Yoongi even thinking about touching you. So much for being brave.
You sigh, and Yoongi catches the hurt in the sound.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't push me away again, please." You reach for him and Yoongi doesn't stop you, because he can; he doesn't want to. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to."
"Are you sure?" He asks seriously, catching your wrist, ducking his head so that he could meet your eyes properly, "Tell me now that this is okay because when I start I won't stop."
You barely got to nod before Yoongi was kissing you again, pouring everything he had into it, hands moving down to grip at your ass in your cotton shorts. He takes careful steps, walking you backwards towards the bed.
"Just let me take care of you, yeah?" Yoongi gently pushes you back onto the bed, taking his time to strip you out of your clothes. Not letting his worries and doubts stop him from telling you how beautiful you are, or from kissing every inch of skin revealed to his eyes.
He kisses his way down your thighs once your shorts and panties are out of the way, stopping every now and then to nibble at the soft flesh. Your little sighs and moans are something he wants to record and keep with him forever, even though he wouldn't need them to remember.
He touches you lightly, just to tease, sliding his hands down your thighs, eyes locked on your glistening pussy. He wants to draw this out, ignoring your impatient whine and the rise of your hips at his touch. He's waited so long for this, wanting to taste you beyond the kiss you shared so long ago, Yoongi wants to make you beg. Reduce you to a mumbling mess of incoherent words, but at the same time, he too is impatient.
He shushes you gently at your call of his name, fingers parting your folds and watching the way your pussy clenches around nothing at his gaze. "So pretty, baby."
It was your only warning before he dove in, licking a board stripe from your engerance to your clit, focusing the tip of his tongue at the bundle of nerves. You suck in a sharp breath, hand tugging at his hair and it only spurs Yoongi on. He sucks gently in your clit, tongue moving in slow figures and dips a finger into your wet heat. He groans at the way your cunt just sucks him in, arousal dripping down his hand and he adds another, curling them against the soft spot within you.
He looks up at you, past your heaving chest to your fucked out face. Your parted lips, furrowed brows, glazed eyes looking back at him.
"Yoon--fuck."
Yoongi groans lowly in his throat, pressing his tongue flat against your clit, mouth flooding with your taste. He'd stay there forever if you gave him the chance, listening to the way your breath hitches and the sound of your moans and the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks harshly. He drives his tongue inside you, and the whine that leaves you has him rutting his hips against the bed. He can't get enough of your taste, the way your pussy clenches he's around his fingers.
"You taste so good, baby." Yoongi loves the way you grip at his hair, the way you tug sends tingles down his spine. He thrusts two fingers inside you, crooking them right, hitting the spot that sends your moans into a higher octave. He can't be bothered with how loud you're being, or if anyone's awake right now and would know exactly what you're both up to. You don't seem to care either, too lost in the pleasure; moaning his name.
"F-fuck, right there," you whimper, thighs tensing around his head. Yoongi groans as he obeys, crooking his fingers and rubbing at the spot that makes you sing so sweetly. His lips never leave your clit, tongue swirling around the swollen nub in figure eights. Dragging his fingers within the tightness of your dripping heat, he could tell you're close, feeling the way your thighs tremble. "Fu-"
Your back arches off the sheets, and Yoongi moans when your release gushes out of you and into his mouth. He stays there and takes it all, until you push at him instead of pull and Yoongi lets up, running his hands up your sides in an attempt to soothe as you tremble in the after wave. "You doing okay?"
"Yeah," you squeak out and Yoongi chuckles, getting up to sit back on his thighs. He watches you for a moment, watching the way your chest heaves with your every breath, your hair a tangled mess against his pillows. His eyes trail your form, down to the mess between your thighs that twitched at his attention.
"Sure? You good to go on?" He asks to be sure, squeezing your hip gently. You nod, reaching for him and he goes without complaint, caging you within his arms and kisses you slowly. His tongue tangles with yours, and he grinds his hips down against yours, seeking friction for his aching cock, dampening the front of his sweatpants.
"Fuck that feels so good." He groans, sucking bruises into the soft skin of your neck. He angles his hips so that the length of his cock rubs directly against your clit, shuddering, it feels so good and Yoongi can't stop. He slows down though, because he could feel his release racing down his spine. "Fuck, baby."
"Wanna..." You push at his shoulders, "Wanna suck your cock." Your hands are at the drawstrings of his sweatpants already, tugging, "Wanna taste you, too."
"Fuck, okay."
Yoongi gets off the bed to shuck off his sweats, cock springing free, red and pulsing, precum beading at the tip. He chuckles at your facial expression, eyes surprised even though your bottom lip is caught between your teeth. He notes the way your eyes follow the movement of his hand, he grips his cock and squeezes, thumb catching the translucent drop and dragging it down his shaft.
"You're big."
"Good for you, then?" He pumps his shaft slowly, whispering curses under his breath.
You roll your eyes, "It wouldn't have mattered if-"
"Shh." Yoongi shushes and crooks the fingers of his free hand at you, "Come here."
He leans down to grab a pillow behind you, pausing, "Where's comfortable for you?"
"Wherever you want me," you say sweetly, and it would've been cute with the way you smile, if it wasn't for the look in your eyes. For a moment Yoongi feels like he's in for way more than he bargained for, with you looking so pretty, alluring, like a succubus ready to siphon his soul. Such a far contrast from the you of earlier, fumbling with your words and flushing under his gaze.
"This isn't about me." Yoongi swallows, "Are you kneeling or do you wanna stay on the bed?"
"I'll stay here." You make yourself comfortable, propping up on your elbows, and Yoongi passes you the pillow to help you reach his hips in your position. You slide the pillow under your chest, already reaching for him before he steps closer and Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath when your smaller hand wraps around his cock.
You mirror his motions from before, pumping slowly and Yoongi's not sure if you're teasing him or not. Tongue snaking out to kitten lick at the head, you swirl it around before taking it into your mouth.
"Ah fuck." Yoongi throws his head back, a hand finding your hair as you take him slowly to the back of your throat. He feels your exhales against his tummy, just barely, his mind too muddled to focus on anything but the warmth of your throat and the wiggling of your tongue under his shaft. "You're doing so good, baby."
You hum a gurgle of a word Yoongi would probably never decipher, the vibrations around the head of his cock has him tugging lightly on your hair and pulling out and away from your mouth, breathing hard. He'd be damned if he comes so quickly, that shit will probably haunt him for the rest of his life.
There's a string of spit connecting your lips to his cock, and you smile like the minx you are, not letting him get far enough away before you're taking his cock into your mouth again, bobbing your head at a quick pace. Yoongi could cry, he's trying so hard, there's sweat dripping from his hair, you're pulling him closer, taking him deeper and his eyes roll back.
"Shit. Slow down." His words trail off in a moan, and he's unable to help the rolling of his hips, thrusting his cock into the warmth of your throat, gently, mindful of your breathing. You swallow and he swears, thighs tensing and he stops, pulling away again to release a stuttered exhale. Leaning down, he kisses you, licking into your mouth with haste, tasting himself on your tongue. "Wanna fuck you." He breathes against your lips, releasing your hair for you to scoot back up the bed.
He's quick to follow, slotting his hips between your thighs, stopping to map bruises against the skin of your chest. He laves his tongue over a nipple, fingers toying with the other, he takes the pebbled bud into his mouth just to hear you make a pretty sound.
"Yoongi." You whine his name, and Yoongi doesn't waste another second, hooking one of your knees over his elbow, other hand guiding his cock to your wet cunt. He stays there for a moment, tapping his cock against your clit just to watch you squirm. You raise your hips to meet his teasing thrusts and Yoongi chuckles, easing back to slowly drag his cock down your slit until it prods at your entrance.
He slowly presses into you, watching the way your pussy sucks him in, arousal coating his cock. "You're so fucking tight." Yoongi stills, gripping your hips, watching you through a lust filled haze. He thrusts shallowly into you until he bottoms out and stills, free hand squeezing your hip gently. He swipes his tongue over his thumb, pressing the digit against your clit to rub in slow circles, "Relax for me, baby."
When he feels your body relax around him, he moves, setting a slow pace to start, leaning down to slot his lips over yours, swallowing the sounds you made. You arms wrap around his neck, nails scraping red, angry lines at his shoulder blades. The pain only heightens the pleasure he feels, crossing his eyes and curling his toes.
"Fuck." Yoongi bites gently on your earlobe, "You're so good for me baby. So fucking good. Taking my cock so well."
He knows you're getting tired of his pace. You're lifting your hips to meet his thrust, moaning helplessly into his ears. "Want more, baby?" He leans back in time to catch your nod, kiss swollen bottom lip caught between your teeth. He grips your hips again, keeping you from moving, and slows down just to watch you squirm and beg for him.
"Ple-fuck. Jus-" your words cut off with a gasp, hands gripping Yoongi's wrists where he holds you. He sets a punishing pace, the sound of his thighs hitting your ass loud in the quiet of the room. "Oh F-fuck, Yoongi."
"This what you wanted, hmm?" He tilts his head at you, one eyebrow raised, sliding a hand up your sweat slicked skin to cup your jaw, you take his thumb into your mouth and Yoongi's cock pulses with the need for his release. He smirks, pressing his thumb down on your tongue, pace never faltering, his nerves are on the edge of frying, orgasm tingling at the end of his spine. Pulling his hand away from your mouth and presses his thumb against your clit, looking down at the way his ccok, covered in your arousal, disappears inside you.
Yoongi groans, the sound rumbling in his chest, feeling your pussy clenching around his cock, squeezing tight as your breath hitches. "Ah--fuck I'm gonna-"
"Yeah? Come for me, baby." As your body tenses and tremble, Yoongi chases his end, hips stuttering and he gasps, cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat as his release spills into you. "Oh fuck."
Head light and ears ringing, Yoongi kisses you, it's more tongue than anything else, but he doesn't care. He does his best to keep the full weight of him off you, peppering kisses along your jaw. He feels your every breath and his sweat cools on his skin, "You okay?"
There's sweat burning his eyes and he squints at you as you push his hair back and away from his face, you're smiling and giggling shyly. Like if he told you a joke and didn't just fuck you nine ways to hell. "I'm perfect."
He presses a kiss to your cheek, leaning back up again to carefully slip his softening cock out of your still pulsing walls. His release comes flowing out not two seconds after, he watches with his bottom lip between his teeth, cock giving an interested twitch.
Yoongi gets up before he starts something again, because he just might die trying to go through a second round so quickly. "Don't move, I'll be right back."
He looks around on the floor for where he left his sweatpants, he puts them on and shuffles quickly to the door. He only realises just how quiet it is now that it's quiet, he realises how loud the two of you were being.
He goes back to you with a warm, damp washrag, finding you close to falling asleep. He cleans you up anyway, mindful of your sensitivity.
When he's done he watches you for a moment, fingers finding yours first. Mindlessly he fiddles with them and reaches for his discarded shirt and passes it to you, releases your hand only for you to put it on. "We probably could've done this sooner." You say softly, smiling.
Yoongi tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, "What? The sex or...?"
You lightly swat his arm, "You know what I mean."
"I do." Yoongi presses a kiss to your wrist, sighing when you gently lay that palm against his cheek. He believes that action speaks volumes and there's no need for words, but he realises that he hadn't said it back to you earlier. Though, he was very much distracted and his thoughts were absent. "I like you too...alot...just in case that wasn't clear."
He shifts on the bed to be closer to you and leans his head on your shoulder, "I'm sorry it took me so long. It takes me a while to come to terms with things. I overthink and make things harder for myself, I wasn't sure if this was the right way to go."
You hum softly, breath tickling his ears, "It's okay. I suck too. We could've avoided the run around if I'd just told you."
"Yeah, you're terrible. I had no idea what to do with your smoke signals." Yoongi raises his head, chuckling. Leaning over, he presses a kiss to your forehead and tilts your chin to kiss you softly. "Can I take you out? When we get back."
"Yeah, I'd like that."
Yoongi smiles, feeling like a kid and nudges you softly, "Go pee. I'll strip the sheets, go on."
He watches as you walk on wobbly legs till you reach the door and pause, turning your head to watch him with wide eyes, "you don't think they heard us, do you?"
"Nah, they're asleep."
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"Dude, whoever was watching their porn so loudly last night, fuck you. Honestly, the lack of respect in this household."
It's the first thing Jimin says when he comes downstairs the next morning, looking like he'd slept on the wrong side of the bed. Eyes swollen as he takes the coffee Seokjin offers and the sympathetic pat to his shoulder.
Yoongi ignores the conversation, even though you looked like you were about to combust next to him. Seokjin was giving him a look from his spot by the stove, looking ridiculous in the pink apron he favoured.
"Yeah the walls are so thin in here it's wild." Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows at Yoongi and you choose that moment to choke on your sip of orange juice.
Taehyung pauses, fork halfway to his mouth with a strip of bacon hanging for dear life at the end of it. He looks between the both of you for a quiet moment, strong brows furrowed until something lights in his eyes. "Oh my god."
Jimin, who's slumping in his seat, looking like he wanted nothing more than to crawl his way back upstairs perks up at Taehyung's words, "What?"
Yoongi stares silently at Taehyung, daring him to open his big mouth and say exactly what he definitely wants to say.
"Nothing. Nothing...." Taehyung waves his hand with the fork, sending the piece of bacon flying off it and into his glass of orange juice. Jimin watches on with disgust as Taehyung fishes the piece out of the cup and tosses it into his mouth.
"The bin is right there."
"Are you drinking the juice?"
Yoongi runs circles into the skin of your knee, as Taehyung and Jimin bicker.
"Oh, Joon. Come eat." Seokjin wanders over to the entrance and Yoongi just barely catches the sight of Namjoon passing by, saying that he was going for a walk first. Hoseok and Jungkook enter just then, finding their spots at the table as Seokjin sets plates for them.
"I'll be right back." Yoongi says softly, pressing a kiss to your temple, leaving Jimin sputtering into his coffee. He pushes his chair back and stands, catching the way Hoseok squints at you.
He points, not saying anything before he leans around Taehyung to smack at Jimin's arm, "I told you so! You owe me fifty."
"Bold of you to assume I came here with money."
"You guys made a bet?" You ask, incredulous.
"Yeah. It's either someone was watching porn, or someone was getting it. You and Yoongi are the only ones not sharing a room..."
Hoseok voice fades as Yoongi shuts the front door behind him. It's cold, mist and dew clinging to the world and Yoongi regrets leaving his sweater in his room. He rubs his hands over his arms, the long sleeves of his t shirt barely keeping him warm.
Namjoon's already walking, a good distance from the house near the lake's edge. Yoongi takes his time walking over, gravel crunching under his feet, he slots his hands into his pockets to keep them warm.
When he reaches Namjoon, the younger man is crouched down, cooing at something on the ground. There's a little crab scurrying around trying to get away from Namjoon's curious fingers.
"Just let the little guy be." Yoongi announces himself, "Thing's probably scared shitless."
"I just wanna pick him up, though," Namjoon continues to try, sighing when the little crab escapes into the lake. "Oh well.." He dusts his hands and stands up, finally looking over at Yoongi.
"Aren't you cold?" He asks, and remembering he's standing out in a tshirt and sweats, Yoongi shivers. Namjoon looks all cozy in his beige sweater and matching beanie.
"I wanted to run something by you." Yoongi says, looking out at the lake and the way the light of the morning sun glitters against the still waters. He shoves his cold hands into the pockets of his pants, rubbing his thumb over his curled fingers. He realised that this is going to be as hard as trying to talk to you, and Namjoon waits patiently, watching Yoongi with eyes that seemed to know too much.
"Uh.." Yoongi chances a look, glancing at Namjoon who's just as quiet as him, waiting. "Look man, Y/n and I had a talk last night."
"Right?" Namjoon gives him a look, a confused one, head tilting and all.
Yoongi takes a breath and decides to go headfirst, though he takes a step back from Namjoon to be sure. "I really like your sister and we talked about it and I just wanted you to know that."
The uncomfortable look that morphs Namjoon's features wasn't what Yoongi was expecting, especially since the look stays there for a while as Namjoon just stares at him. He raises a hand to scratch at his cheek, "Dude."
"What?"
"Are you saying that I owe Hoseok fifty dollars?"
"...Eh?" Yoongi's confused, and it feels as though he's spent this whole weekend running on pure confused energy. Namjoon shakes his head, laughing in a way that makes Yoongi take another step back.
"I know. You two are terrible at hiding shit." Namjoon points his thumb over his shoulder, back at the house where he glances. From where he stands, he could see Seokjin, Taehyung and Jimin peering out through the window. "I know my sister, and I know my best friend. You guys are adults, so, really, there's nothing I can do but watch it happen."
Namjoon shrugs, and Yoongi flushes, cheeks heating. "But when I met her...you...you gave me a look."
"I was trying to ask if you wanted water!"
"That was not a 'do you want water' look, Joon."
Namjoon reaches over and pats his shoulder softly, hand lingering, "You have my blessing, if that's what you came to ask for." He smiles, eyes disappearing, but Yoongi's relief is cut short when he tries to shift away, Namjoon's grip tightening. "Though, she's still my little sister. I know where you live."
Yoongi chuckles, a little scared.
"Good talk." Namjoon nods to himself, "I'm going inside. Get out of the cold!"
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Tagging: @madbutgloriouspond @blog-name-idk @taestefully-in-luv @btsstan12 @hamsterclaw @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @doneimnida @here2bbtstrash
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queerponcho · 2 months
Text
Transfixed | part 1
moonknight!system x female!reader
a/n: been writing this fic for about a year now so it's nerve-wrecking to finally post the first chapter. I hope you'll like it!! (pls be gentle...)
thanks to the lovely @nexusnyx for motivating me a few weeks ago, would've never considered posting without having our convo the other day!! Thank you so much<33
Warnings: fluff, NOT beta read, gushing about the moonboys, flustered awkward dorks, plot-twists, (eventual smut, the chapters will be marked individually), inaccurate depictions of DID, egyptian mythology and religion (although I did extensive research I took liberty in changing some things to adhere to my plot...), if I missed anything or made any spelling mistakes pls don't hesitate to tell me!
Summary: You're a woman who as been visiting the same library for all your life. One day a handsome new face comes walking in. That's the moment when the ball starts rolling and your entire life changes. Will you accept the new challanges coming your way...?
2,200 words
You have been visiting the same library all your life. While you were in school you  would go there to have a quiet place to study. Since at home you always had a lot of family and busy energy around, you needed the library as sort of an...escape from all the noise. Later when you got into university, the library had become kind of a safe space for you. So you would rather sit in the bus for half an hour to and back to study there instead of the grimy and packed library on campus.
Even now that you work and have enough books at home to basically open your own library, you still can't part from your little paradise. Everyone knows you here and a few months ago the owners of the library even adopted a cat that seemed to really like you. So chances of moving on from here had definitely been ruined.
You loved reading all kinds of story based books, but spending so much time here made you curious, so you also picked up a few skill based ones. you had read a few gardening and science books but the ones you would actually start applying were the books that had to-do with art. Autobiographies of different artists and painters, different studies and research on colour and brushes. You became almost a bit obsessed at some point. So you started sketching and drawing things around you based on the knowledge you'd gathered from your extensive research. you would draw people around the library after work or before meeting friends in the nearby café. You'd never claim to be an artist but you were proud of your drawings nonetheless. for the past few weeks you had started to draw one very specific person. You saw them for the first time a bit over a month ago…
It was a rainy day and you'd just finished lunch with a friend. You said goodbye and you decided to head to the library to continue on with your sketches of the cute ginger kitten. After saying hello to the owners and giving the kitten a treat, you made your way to your usual corner in the back. Since the library wasn't very big you had a good view of the entrance and a few tables. you'd been sitting and drawing for about ten minutes when you noticed the kitten smelling your coat pocket in search of more treats. You smiled down at her 'hiiii kitty!' you picked her up and placed her on your little round table. 'you want another treat huh?' She looked back with big shiny eyes 'alright alright...there you go'. She happily chewed on the fish-shaped cookie while you continued drawing her. 
The familiar noise of the door opening caught your attention....a man came in, he was wearing a brown flat-cap which was obscuring your vision of his face. He reached to take it off with a gloved hand and pushed his black curls back to reveal the face, of what you could only describe, a Greek god. He had strong and angular features, a sharp jawline and a beautiful slightly crooked nose which you felt the need to trace over with your finger. He had crows feet decorating his eyes, you'd assume he had them from laughing but seeing his resting facial expression, smiling almost seemed to be a foreign task to him. He brushed the remaining rain off his shoulders and made his way to the history section. When he disappeared behind a shelf you were brought back from your trance and took the first breath in what seemed like minutes. 
You wondered what he would be looking for in the history section of this old library. You were in London, a place with alot of people, then again this library was old and in a secluded part of town so it was usually the same people walking in and out. You would definitely remember his face if you had seen it before. Whatever it was that he was looking for he had apparently found since he was making his way to the register with a thick leather bound book in his glove covered hand. You had a bit of a thing for hands and you knew you'd be sketching hands for the next few hours because of this stranger. He hastily left the library and was gone as fast and suddenly as he appeared. After that day you couldn't stop drawing that pretty stranger, you'd given him multiple names during this time. His name had been Jack, Edward, Steve, Malcom and many more. you'd started just drawing his gloved hands and his forearms but quickly you would switch to drawing his intense gaze and soft curls. The amount of times you fantasised about running your fingers through them and tugging slightly had you embarrassed. It had been weeks since you'd seen him and you wouldn't stop imagining him in your apartment just sitting next to you, sometimes you would also imagine him a bit closer and wearing a little less clothing…
——————————————————————
A month had passed since you'd seen him and you finally managed to stop drawing him and went back to drawing people around the library. Though you still looked up when the door opened and a new customer came in hoping for your handsome stranger to come in and maybe stay a little this time so you could find out more about him and his movements, for drawing references of course...nothing else. It seemed the universe wanted to help you out, because the next time the bell chimed and a customer walked in, the familiar brown flat-cap wearing stranger entered. This time it was warm and sunny outside so he wasn't wearing any gloves and wore a white fitted polo. His muscles were visibly moving underneath the fabric of his sleeves when he reached up to take off his hat and ruffle through his hair with the same intention as last time. He was also holding the same thick leather bound book from his last visit to the library.
 According to the owners he couldn't buy that one since it was rare literature, so he got to borrow it for a month...you knew this because you may have asked about him and his purchase after he left. This was also when you found out that the book he borrowed was about an Egyptian god. During your time in this library you have read books on Egyptian history and it did peak your interest. All this time you’d never even noticed that book before? Recently, you’d been spending a lot more time studying in that part of the library, so overseeing such a unique looking book was very strange of you.
You see him talking to the owners, it was quiet enough to make out parts of the conversation. It was 10am on a Tuesday so you were pretty much the only customer here. He had a pretty strong Latin accent and you were pretty sure he was from mexico. part of your family is from south America so you grew up learning Spanish and you remember hearing them speak English with that exact same accent. 
He was thanking them for the book and asking if he could take a look around the library again. The owners kindly told him to go ahead and that he didn't even need to ask. He briefly nodded his head mumbling a quick 'gracias' and went over to the history section. You watched intently and spontaneously decided to head in the same direction. You felt a bit creepy lurking on this man but you were sure you wouldn't get caught since you were rarely a very visible person. it's not that you didn't have a strong presence but you know how to blend in really well and when to use that to your advantage. You hid behind the shelf of the history section facing his profile. He really was a pretty man, his eyes were squinting and his bold eyebrows furrowed. There was a stray curl hanging over them and you badly wanted to brush it back and feel his thick hair between your fingers...you couldn't of course, since you were too preoccupied drawing him at the moment. The window was creating beautiful shadows beneath his hooded eyes and high cheekbones. His jaw looked sharper than ever and his neck extremely kissable. His lips needed an honourable mention, they were like two squishy pillows that were begging to be bitten. You've been paying special interest to them and trying to get the details just right, so you didn't notice that he had moved from his previous spot. 
You couldn't see him anywhere and were actually kind of disappointed to think he probably left. you were about to turn around and go back to your discarded belongings when you accidentally bumped into someone while moving backwards. 'ohssshit! i- i am so so sorry um- i didn't mean to wal-'
you had managed to pick up your pencil, sketchbook, and hopefully all of the scattered pages- when you finally looked up just to be faced with the god-like looking man you had been fawning over for a month now. he was practically towering over you and… was that a smirk? If you weren't already kneeling on the floor right now you would've probably lost your balance. 'hola~ I don't mind this view but do you need help standing up, muñeca?' This is when you realised that you were on your knees in front of the most attractive man you have ever seen and you quickly scrambled to your feet 'nono um thank you-' 
'Jake, my name's Jake' he stuck out his hand and you introduced yourself after thanking him again. So his name was jake...huh pretty basic for a man like him. You were kind of joking when you temporarily gave him very basic names but you guess his parents weren't much more creative than you are. 
You realised you were staring when he raised his left eyebrow and started grinning.
 'So...why were you spying on me?' He asked cockily and it had you word-vomiting all over the place 'what? i wasn't-? I-I was just…drawing-?' pretty hard to sound convincing when finishing every statement with a question mark... 'yeah I know-' he looked you up and down and coming a bit closer 'I saw you get lost in your notebook and I just had to come see what you are drawing that garnered all of your precious attention, hermosa' 
The nicknames were really starting to get to you, making you feel all sweaty and nervous. you were clenching the book to your chest accidentally pushing up your breasts and making your cleavage much more noticeable. you saw him glancing down, taking his time in bringing his eyes back up your neck and finally to your face. This entire time you were basically pressed into his chest, you were leaning on the shelf and he didn't seem like he wanted to move anytime soon 'h-how long were you looking over my shoulder exactly?'
 'Long enough to see what had you so...como se dice...transfixed' Your breath hitched and he answered with a toothy grin. 
'I am flattered, preciosa. I really am, didn't think someone as pretty as you would follow me around the library just to draw my hands and ass' 
You push him back- 'I did NOT draw your ass! I-' You were interrupted by his chuckle and him moving closer again and grabbing your chin between his fingers and caging you in with his other arm. 'I know muñeca , I just like seeing you flustered...toda nerviosilla...it's cute.' At this point you’ve decided it's best if you just don't speak. '...maybe next time you can draw me shirtless? I would love to see you solely focused on my abs for half an hour.' He flashes you a toothy grin. Oh he’s getting too cocky…somehow you manage to move away from the bookshelf, momentarily getting even closer to him. After seeing his eyes flicker with surprise you move to the side, backing away from him. Turn around finally being able to take a breath of normal air that wasn't deliciously tinted with his aftershave. 
'Sure, next time you can waltz into the library without a shirt on and we will see how far you get before being kicked out' you say while looking over your shoulder. 
 'Seeing your reaction would be worth it, nena' he called after you, not even registering your feet carrying you back to your corner. you took a deep breath replaying what just happened. He should not have this effect on you, it's almost embarrassing how easily he got so close to you. You are a grown woman, damnit! How did you not shove him away and get mad at his advances? You should be creeped out but you notice how you’re wishing to bump into him again soon...you hear the doorbell ring and see him walk out. He takes one look back and holds up a piece of paper. ‘Oh fuck me’ you feel your feet glued to the floor when you see what it is…its a drawing you made of him. It was a closeup of his torso upwards. You had drawn him from above and he was laying in your bed with heavy lidded eyes and parted lips. you were absolutely mortified- he was grinning like an idiot and winked at you before storing the drawing in his back pocket, crossing the street and vanishing from your eye-line. leaving you in the library, plagued by his stupid masculine scent and his dumb pretty face.
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a/n: I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter, I've got a few already locked and loaded sooo the next one should be posted soon. Pls like and reblog if you liked it<3 it would mean the world!
part two
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buckychristwrites · 9 months
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Could This Be | Chap. Eleven | j.t.
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Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader
Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about.
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating
A/N: And that's a wrap! Thank you so much for reading! I hope you all enjoy!!! Also YES i changed Beard's wedding to fit my needs SUE ME
Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog
The only thing you could hear was Keeley’s sobs as she leaned on your shoulder. 
“Keeley, please!” You whispered, trying hard not to laugh through your own tears. “You’re being so loud!”
“I just love weddin’s so much,” She choked out as she tried to wipe her face without smearing her makeup. 
The backdrop of the wedding was stunning, in the beautiful garden of a Scottish castle with the sunset painting the world from behind. Standing between Jamie and Keeley, you found yourself choking up during their hand written vows. Although, the sentimentality of it wore off after the eighth page of Beard’s. And that was only the halfway mark.
With the ceremony over, and the bride and groom off to take a quick set of pictures, everyone was filing inside to get to the reception. 
Hand in hand, you walked through the grass with Jamie, as Keeley was linked to Roy on the other side.
“Can we have a wedding here?” Keeley asked Roy, looking at him with a pout in her lip. His expression didn’t falter. 
“No.”
Her lip poked out further.
“Why not?”
“Fuckin’ stupid to have a weddin’ outside in England. The risk of rain is too high,” He explained, in a logical way that made a lot of sense. Keeley considered this, although she still had the pout on her face. 
“Where would you get married?” She asked, turning to you. You were taken aback by the question, the heat filling your cheeks and burning them from the inside out. Although you refused to look at him, you felt Jamie give your hand a squeeze. 
“I don’t think I’d want a big wedding,” You admitted. “I’d be fine with the courthouse.” 
“Really?” The shock in her voice was evident, her staring at you like you had said you’d like to get married in the mouth of a shark. She looked to Jamie. “What about you?”
His gaze fell to the grass, shaking his head before pointing at you with his free hand. “Whatever the lady says.”
It had been an awkward morning.
The hotel room that had been booked for you was the same hotel room that was booked for Jamie, as it was assumed that you two would’ve done that anyway. And, obviously, that meant that the room only had one bed. It was a regal room, decorated as if it were plucked out of Buckingham Palace and placed inside this castle for you to stay in. After a hearty debate on what to do. as there was no couch in the room that could properly accommodate a person, the two of you decided to just share the bed. Jamie on the left side, you on the right side. The two of you mumbled good night to each other before switching off the lights and turning to face the opposite walls. Which was fine and dandy.
Until you woke up pressed into Jamie’s bare chest, his arms wrapped around you. You had no recollection of moving, having definitely been on your own side when you went to bed the night prior. Was he shirtless when he went to bed? He must’ve been. It was like waking up from a dream to another one, your face against his skin and his chest rising and falling against yours. And for a long time, you allowed yourself to stay like that. It wasn’t scary. It wasn’t weird. It felt normal. Like you had been waking up this way for years and years. 
It made you think of when you and him slept together. When he spent the night and left the following morning. He had woken up before you, and was out of bed by the time you awoke. Had this happened then, too?
Your eyes had snapped shut when he shifted, and for a brief moment, he seemed just as content as you. Then, suddenly, he was out of the bed so fast that you almost rolled off the mattress in stunned confusion. The exchange was brilliantly painful, as he apologised and rushed to the bathroom while you got yourself together and dressed before fleeing the room entirely.
The incident had completely shattered the groove the two of you had. Ever since, you had no idea how to act, and neither did he. All morning, you two stumbled around each other, as if you hadn’t been kissing and holding each other in public for about a month at this point. Maybe it was the fact that it was a moment in private, a thoughtless act in a place where there was no fear or rationale to fight through. Just two fake yet somehow real lovers, entwined.
“I can’t see you settlin’ for a courthouse,” Roy said, eyes narrowed at Jamie. “Jamie Tartt’s weddin’? In a fuckin’ courthouse?”
Jamie shrugged before saying, “I don’t think anything I do with her is settling.” 
The butterflies in your stomach made you nauseous.
The interior of the castle was decorated so beautifully for the wedding. Fresh flowers were everywhere, filling the room with a lovely scent. Candles were everywhere, a stunning flicker against the setting sun that was shining through the windows. Against the wall were rows and rows of tables, filled to the brim with food. Your mouth began to water. The morning had been so hectic that you had forgotten to eat. 
“I will die if I don’t get food soon,” You mumbled to Jamie as the two of you followed Keely and Roy to the assigned table. 
“I think we have to wait,” Jamie responded, looking around. No one else even approached the buffet tables. It made your heart want to cry. 
Jamie pulled out the chair for you at the table, allowing you to sit before taking the seat to your right. In the middle of the table were appetisers, a feature you weren’t expecting. Both Jamie and yourself immediately reached forward to grab a random assortment.
“Do you think we’re supposed to eat yet?” Keeley asked, looking around nervously to see if others were eating off the plates on their tables.
“I don’t fucking care,” You said before shoving a mini sandwich into your mouth. 
“Oh fine,” She said, reaching for the plate of what looked like stuffed mushrooms. Jamie, at the same time, also reached for one.
“It’s got a weird smell to it,” Keeley remarked as she examined it.
“You could still like it,” You pointed out to her. “Maybe plug your nose before you eat it.” She stared at the stuffed mushroom sceptically before popping the whole thing in her mouth. Instantly, she shut her eyes.
“Oh, it’s fucking wonderful,” She exhaled. “You have to try one.” 
Your fingers were on the cusp of grabbing one when Jamie grabbed your hand.
“Oi. Those have lobster in them.”
“Does it?” Keeley asked loudly before grabbing another one to examine it. Slowly lowering your arm back down to the table, Jamie still had a soft grasp on your wrist. 
“Oh my god, it does!” She exclaimed, leaning forward. “I almost killed ya. I’m so sorry.” 
Jamie rose from his seat, leaning towards you before saying, “I’m running to the toilet.” As he walked away, you watched him until he disappeared down a hallway. 
“I’m so glad you two found each other,” Keeley said, and it was then that you noticed she had moved into his seat when you weren’t paying attention. As you turned your head towards her, your gaze lingered on the hallway he disappeared down for another moment before jumping back to her. 
“I spent months during our relationship wishing he would look at me the way he looks at you.” 
You smiled down at your lap. 
“It’s not real,” You said without thinking. “None of it is real.” Keeley looked surprised at your sentiment briefly. She leaned forward, placing her hand over yours.
“Of course it’s real, babe,” She said softly. “Anyone can see how much he loves you, and how much you love him. And you should hear how he talks about ya when you’re not around.” 
This made you look up. Opening your mouth to speak, you were interrupted by the music getting louder. It was time for the bride and groom to make their entrance. Just before they made their entrance, Jamie rushed in with his head down. Keeley spotted him just in time to switch back to her own seat. 
You leaned towards Roy. “Aren’t you supposed to be up there too?”
“Fuck no. I hate this shit, and told Beard I wouldn’t do it.” 
The room erupted in applause as Coach Beard and Jane made their entrance, dancing down the pathway in the middle of the room towards the table set just for them. It took you a second to realise that everyone around you had stood up, and you quickly shot out of your seat to join them. You heard a laugh from behind you, and you had to resist the urge to shoot Jamie a dirty look. 
An announcement was made that the buffet was now open, and before you knew it, you were rushing over to join the line. 
The options felt endless and chaotic, which, in fairness, really encapsulated Beard and Jane’s entire relationship quite nicely. There was pizza, pasta, chicken tenders, burgers, fries, a salad bar. If you thought of any sort of American cuisine, it was probably somewhere on that table. 
“What’re ya grabbin’?” Jamie asked, leaning over your shoulder as you used a pair of tongs to pick up some fries.
“Probably everything,” You admitted, your stomach picking that exact moment to let out a loud rumble. As you set a few chicken tenders on the plate, Jamie reached over and grabbed a fry off your dish, plopping it in his mouth as yours fell agape.
“That was mine!” You whined. “Get your own!” 
“Why would I do that when you’re doin’ it for me?” He asked, grabbing a tender from your dish and taking a bite. It was hard to feel genuinely offended when he was smiling at you the way he was. 
“I’m gonna starve to death because of you,” You said, feigning the offence as best as you could. “Then you’ll feel really bad, won’t you?”
His laugh could be heard over the music, a symphony filling your ears that drowned out every other sound. 
“Fine,” He said, putting some fries on his own plate. “I won’t deprive ya anymore, darlin’.”
“Thank fuck,” Roy said from behind him. “If I had to keep watchin’ this, I’d have to throw up on the bride.” A crinkle formed between your eyebrows.
“I don’t think you’d have to throw up right on the bride,” You pointed out. He shook his head.
“I would,” He declared. “You two would force me to.” 
“Plenty of other places to vomit, I think,” Jamie added. 
“And yet, it would be right on the bride. And after, I’d tell her it was because of the both of you.”
Once back at the table, you dug into your food without much conversation. You mainly spent the time looking around. For the most part, the wedding was smaller than you had imagined it to be. It was just the team, Jane’s family, and then a random assortment of people who they both knew. 
The maid of honour rose from her seat, clearing her throat before bringing her mouth to the microphone.
“Here we go,” Jamie muttered, continuing to eat. 
“Is it bad that I hate these speeches?” You whispered to him. “Like I’m here for the bride and groom… why do I care about what some other random person has to say about it?” 
“It’s like, I don’t need their full story of how they know the couple, ‘cos I don’t care ‘bout them at all. They ain’t who I’m here for,” He mumbled in agreement. 
“And then they’re trying so hard to say something thought provoking and profound…”
“Okay, sweetheart, you’re not the next Hemingway or some shit.”
“Exactly! I won’t be using your speech in my instagram captions anytime soon.” 
Roy grunted from across the table and the both of you stopped talking. You continued to eat your food and didn’t listen to the speech that was given. The applause of the small crowd alerted you to the end, and you kindly set down your plate and joined in. 
“Your turn?” Jamie asked, gesturing his fork towards Roy. To the surprise of both of you, Roy shook his head.
“No speech from me,” He said simply. Jamie and you exchanged a look before turning back to him.
“Not entering with everyone else is one thing,” You said, face scrunched in annoyance and confusion towards your friend. “But not doing the best man's speech? Roy, please.” But he simply shook his head, in lieu of words, before nodding behind you as the sound of the doors clicking open echoed through the hall. Everyone in the room turned in their seats, curious by the new entrance being made.
“Sorry I’m late.” The familiarity of the voice made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
Your head snapped in Roy’s direction, who, in rare form, was smiling. 
You turned back towards the door in time to see the former AFC Richmond Coach, Ted Lasso himself enter the room. 
“Airport lost my luggage. Had to find a store that could get me a tux faster than lickity split.”
Coach Beard shrieked.
Half of the room was flying out of their seats, Jamie and Keeley included.
The entire AFC Richmond team surrounded Ted, loud cheers and shouts coming from their direction. He was laughing, giving each member a hand shake or- most commonly- a big hug. The excitement was contagious, the smile never waning from your face. Though you knew Ted as well, you stayed in your seat and watched the purifying scene in front of you. There would be chances to say hello later. 
“You big fucking softie,” You said to Roy, turning back to face him. “You arranged this for them, didn’t you?” 
“I would arrange anything to get out of givin’ a speech.” Despite what he said, the smile tugging at his lips gave the answer you were looking for. 
Jamie was the last to hug Ted before the team all excitedly went back to their seats. As Jamie sat down, you noted him wiping tears from his eyes. Coach Beard was standing, but he never left the spot next to his new bride. Ted cleared his throat before turning back to his friend. 
“Wrote a little somethin’ on the plane,” He continued, taking out a couple of pieces of paper out of his jacket pocket and unfolding them. “There are many perfect pairs in our world’s history. Peanut butter and jelly. McCartney and Lennon. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. And, at least in my world, these two have joined those ranks.” he looked around at the crowd wistfully. Everyone was on the edge of their seats, waiting to hear what he was going to say. “What a powerful love we’ve all gotten to witness, and now see come together.” He smiled, shaking his head. “It’s the kind of love we all wish we had.”
Subconsciously, you looked over at Jamie, only to find he was already looking at you. 
“When I met our friend Coach Beard here, he was a lost vessel of a man, tryin’ to find his place in a broken society. Watchin’ his transformation into the loving, quiet, passionate man he is today is a privilege, and so is calling him my best friend.” Tears were streaming down Coach Beard’s face in bucketfuls. Ted gave another small head shake. If you looked close enough, you could see the tears forming in his eyes, as well. “He found Jane exactly when he was meant to, when he was ready to.”
Jamie took your hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze.
“I know that these two will be making each other happy for the rest of their lives. Playing chess without a board. Being silly and loud and weird in a way only they understand. And I hope we can all agree when I say I can’t wait to be there to see it.”
Your heart in your chest was thumping a million times a minute as you looked at Jamie, electricity shooting down your spine. His attention was back on Ted, eyes and cheeks wet. 
“To end this out, I have a quote from one of the best romantic dramas to grace this Earth.” Ted took a deep breath before continuing. “‘I don't want to sound foolish, but remember love is what brought you here. And if you've trusted love this far, don't panic now. Trust it all the way.’” Ted gave a smile. “Congratulations to my friends, Beard and Jane.” A waiter walked up with a glass of champagne, handing it to him. “Thanks, bud.” He raised the glass in the air. “To a lifetime of being weird together.” 
Everyone began cheering and applauding as they raised their glasses to Beard and Jane. Beard basically jumped over the table and ran into the arms of his friend. Seeing them together again made tears spring into your eyes. 
“Fuck you, Roy,” You said as you dabbed at your eyes with a napkin.
“The fuck did I do?” 
“If you had given the speech, I wouldn’t be crying right now.” He grunted.
“Actually, you should’ve heard what he had prepared before asking Ted,” Keeley said, shaking her head. “‘Bout bawled my eyes out.” 
“Yeah,” Roy added. “You should be thankin’ me.”
“I’ll stick with telling you to fuck yourself.”
Ted returned the microphone to the DJ before making his way over. Roy stood and gave him a hug, the both of them giving the other a loving clap on the back. He leaned down and hugged Keeley, mumbling a greeting into her ear that you couldn’t hear over the start of the first dance. 
“And here’s my favourite medic,” Ted said excitedly as he leaned down to hug you.
“My favourite former AFC Richmond coach,” You said as you hugged him back. He kissed your cheek before letting you go, a glowing smile on his face.
“I heard you’re finally making my man here settle down,” He said, clapping a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. A warmth filled your cheeks as you glanced at Jamie, the realisation hitting you that his hand was still holding yours.
“I think it’s him settling me down, honestly,” You told him. Ted chuckled.
“That doesn’t sound like something I’d hear about the old Jamie,” He said, shaking his head before turning towards the footballer. “I’m still so proud of the man you’ve become.” 
Jamie’s eyes were welling up again as he looked up at his former coach. 
“Couldn’t have gotten here without ya, Coach.” Ted shook his head.
“You were always destined for better. Can’t give me all the credit,” He said simply, giving Jamie’s shoulder one last squeeze and wandering off. When Jamie turned to face the table again, his hand was against his chest, and it stayed there for a long time before dropping down to his lap once more. 
Once the first dance ended, the music switched to another slow song, the dance floor filling up with couples sharing a dance. 
“Wanna dance with me?” Jamie asked, raising his eyebrows at you as he stood from his seat. You smiled, not speaking as you stood up with him.
Finding an empty corner on the dance floor, Jamie turned and took a step closer to you. Your lungs forced a deep exhale before you draped your arms over his shoulders, his hands on your hips as you and him began to sway to the music.
“Sorry ‘bout this mornin’,” He said sheepishly as he took a look around. “Just caught me off guard, is all.” 
“It’s fine. Caught me off guard too,” You admitted. Nodding his head, he turned back to face you. The light was hitting his eyes in just the right way, adding a twinkle as he stared directly into yours.
“Dunno why it felt so weird,” He said, a furrow forming in his eyebrow. “Like, we’ve actually slept together, and yet wakin’ up like that tossed us, d’ya know what I mean?” You nodded, not saying anything for a while. You knew exactly why it felt weird. The dynamic was largely different before that night spent together. Feelings hadn’t been put on the table yet. There was one thing he was wrong about though.
“It rocked me,” You said in a distant tone as you stared off into the dancing crowd. “Us sleeping together.” A beat passed. “In more ways than one, I should say.” He laughed at your joke, despite continuing to look confused. 
“How?”
Your eyes trailed back to look into his.
“It made this real,” You said, biting your cheek tersely before going on. “And it made me afraid… so afraid. That’s why… That’s why I said what I said before the last match.”
You were very aware in this moment of his hands on your hips, and his eyes searching your face.
“What are ya afraid of?” He asked, as if the question had been lingering in his mind for too long. You swallowed down the lump in your throat.
“That you’ll see right through me,” You said quietly. “And that’ll cause you to leave, eventually.” He leaned in slightly closer.
“Do ya wanna hear a secret?” 
Confused, you nodded.
“I already see right through you,” He said so quietly that no one could overhear. “And that’s what’s been makin’ me stay.”
It felt like your brain was short circuiting. All you could do was stare at him, trying and failing to process what he said. The music stopped and the bride was getting ready to throw the bouquet, not that you noticed. Keeley ran over to grab your hand and drag you away from Jamie, who was smiling softly as you were pulled away. The two of you joined the group of women already lined up to fight for the bundle of flowers, and their supposed chance at marriage.
“Get ready!” Keeley said in a voice that suggested that she would spill blood in order to catch this bouquet. Taking a slight step away from her, you turned to the front just as the bride threw the bouquet. Without moving a muscle, in true romantic comedy fashion, the bouquet landed easily into your hands. If it hadn’t been so easy, maybe you wouldn’t have been so surprised. But Keeley still yelled out in excitement for you. 
“YES BABE!” She shrieked, throwing your hand up in the air and spinning around towards Jamie. “Tartt! You’re next!” 
Jamie’s face was beet red as he was being congratulated by the members of the team, who had all gathered to watch the bouquet toss. They grabbed him and shook his shoulders, or smacked his back playfully. His eyes landed on you, his smile wide, as your brain went right back to stalling out. 
You stared at the flowers in your hand. It felt like something had just changed in your head. Something clicked. You took a look around, trying to see if anyone else was also feeling this way. But no. Why would they? It was just you. When your eyes found the flowers once more, you let out a staggered breath. A drip of sweat was running down your spine. When did it get so hot in here?
As the men gathered to do whatever Coach’s equivalent to the garter toss was, as Jane insisted that there would be no taking pieces of clothing off her body and throwing it into a crowd of men, you snuck out of the dance hall and made your way outside. Your lungs felt like you were stuck in a building on fire, desperate for oxygen. 
The back garden felt like a maze as you walked along the pathways, surrounded by shrubbery and flowers. A set of steps lead down to more of the same. The whole area was well lit with lanterns, which you were grateful for. 
A second set of steps lead to a field of grass, which ended with a large lake. In the middle was an island that had a giant tree, almost like a fairytale. Slipping out of your shoes and leaving them on the steps, you walked through the grass and towards the water. The grass felt amazing against your feet paired with the cool breeze kissing your skin. The flowers were still in your hands, held against your chest as if you were walking down the aisle yourself. 
Overwhelmed was an understatement.
He found Jane exactly when he was meant to, when he was ready to.
‘I don't want to sound foolish, but remember love is what brought you here. And if you've trusted love this far, don't panic now. Trust it all the way.’
Was that why it happened the way it did? Was that why that one summer evening, at a house party in Keeley’s backyard, you were catapulted into the whirlwind fake romance that you didn’t ask for? Because you were ready to move on from the arsehole who broke you in more ways than one? You certainly didn’t feel ready at that time.
But you were now. 
It hit you like a tsunami making contact with land.
It couldn’t wait another minute. There was no sense. A perfectly good man, who was kind, loving, and not a hurtful bone in his body was right there, waiting for you to decide that you were willing to put aside your hurt and pain to be with him. It felt so senseless. There was never going to be a perfect time. A time where you were perfectly mentally healthy and over your trauma. He knew of the ghosts of your past and the damage you had been dealt, and still loved you anyway.
Maybe you didn’t have to be completely over the mountain in order to let him in. Maybe that was the point. He wasn’t waiting for you at the peak. He wanted to help you get there. 
“Oi! You alright?”
When you turned, Jamie was making his way through the grass towards you. Tangling from his hands were the shoes you had just taken off. “Not goin’ for a swim, are ya?”
You shook your head, breathing out a shaky laugh.
“Too cold for swimming, I think,” You replied. He stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
You swallowed hard.
“I’m ready.”
The moon shined off his face, so you could just make out the confusion filling his expression.
“To leave?” He asked. “We just got here-”
“No, Jamie,” You said firmly, taking a small step forward. His arms seemed to fall closer to his sides as he waited. You took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
Realisation fell over him, his eyebrows raising to his hairline as his mouth formed into an O shape. He took a step forward, appearing as if it was involuntary. 
“What changed?” He set your shoes down onto the grass.
You glanced down at the flowers before looking back at him.
“Nothing.” Pause. “Everything.”
Carefully, he began to walk towards you, as if your mind would be changed by his speed. With every step, your heart beat faster, almost taking off out of your chest by the time he stopped directly in front of you. 
“You better mean it, if you say it,” He said in a low voice, slightly quaking. “Don’t do me any favours-”
“I mean it,” You interrupted, shaking your head. “It wasn’t the wedding. Or me feeling lonely or some other dumb shit. It was me being tired of wasting time pretending like this isn’t real. Like I’m not stupid in love with you.” A tear fell down your cheek in a way that was annoying, but you kept going anyway. “I’m sorry for taking so long. I’m so sorry.”
His lips were crashing into yours before you had the chance to realise he was even leaning in. The bouquet fell to the ground. His left hand was holding your face tightly, as if he feared you would pull away, his right arm tight around your waist. While you had one hand tangled in his hair, the other had the collar of his shirt wrapped in a fist. 
“I love ya,” He mumbled against your lips as he continued to kiss you.
“Say it again.” 
He pulled away from you, giving you a look before bringing a kiss to your forehead.
“I love ya.”
A kiss to your temple.
“I love ya.” 
A kiss to your other temple.
“I love ya.” 
A kiss to your cheek.
“I love ya.” 
A kiss to your other cheek.
“I love ya.”
A kiss to your nose.
He leaned in close to your face, his breath hot against your cheeks
“I love ya.” 
Then he was kissing you again. The wind blew passed, but you already had a shiver shooting up your spine, making it hard to feel the cold in the air. He ran his hands up and down your arms, from the tops of your shoulders to the ends of your fingertips.
“Fuckin’ hell.”
He shrugged off his jacket, and was throwing it over your shoulders before the kiss had even ended. 
“Fuckin’ freezin’, you are. Why didn’t you say somethin’?” He asked before pulling away. Laughing as he adjusted the jacket on you, he leaned back to admire how it looked. You shrugged, looking brightly at him.
“I didn’t notice,” You admitted. Because you hadn’t noticed. You were too wrapped up in his warmth. 
“Alright, goofy, let’s go back inside.” 
He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he lead you back towards the garden. 
“Only if you dance with me again,” You told him, bumping your hip into yours. 
He looked over at you, smile full and eyes wide, before saying, “For you, love, we can do whatever you want.” 
And for the first time in your life, you knew without a doubt  that as long as he was by your side, you would never have a want or beg for anything again.
~
TAGS
@daffieapple, @my-left-sock, @buckybarnex, @jelleeyfish, @ricciardhoe3, @picked-off-by-barzal, @lilweirdgal, @hotdoglamp, @loveslide, @rosea-h, @13-7-19-67-71. @wickedheartz, @xxenia14, @zazima, @alainabooks143, @geek-and-proud, @imagines-reblogged, @fuckifuckedup, @booklovingduck, @loveforaugust, @f1maverick, @jamieroyjamieroy, @meisterdani, @hanybunch, @batsy-bats1, @brianandthemays, @heletsmelovehim, @breepboopbap, @jellycolors, @taytaylala12, @crownofdecitreadingrespectfully, @danika1994
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jisungsdaydreamer · 9 months
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Dress
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«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»
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SYNOPSIS When Minho buys a really ugly dress for you, but you don't want to hurt his feelings.
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Pairing: Lee Know x fem!reader Genre: established relationship, fluff Warnings: none :) Word Count: 1.4k
P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡
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“Honey, I got you a surprise!”
You immediately toss aside the book you were reading and practically leap off the couch at the sound of Minho’s voice. You love surprises. Your husband enters the room with a tired look on his face, but nevertheless, he smiles lovingly at you, holding out a cute beige-colored shopping bag to you.
“I stopped by the store after work,” Minho explains, sitting down next to you as he loosens his tie.
You pause while pulling out the sparkly tissue paper at the top of the bag, touched. You know how busy Minho is these days, and the fact that he took time out of his day to get you something made you melt. “Aw, Min. You’re so sweet.”
The tips of Minho’s ears turn pink, like they always did whenever you praise him. “Look inside the bag!”
You tear through the wrapping paper, your fingertips meeting something soft. Intrigued, you pull the mystery item out excitedly, only to realize that it is the absolutely ugliest dress that you have ever set eyes on. For a moment, you just stare at it, surprised in the worst possible way.
“So? What do you think?” 
Minho’s eager voice snaps you out of your mini reverie. You gulp, racking your head for something to say. “Oh! Urm…”
His face falls. “Do you not like it?”
You shake your head vigorously. “No! I’m just so… amazed! You normally never buy clothes for me.”
Minho grins. “I know. But hey, maybe there can be two fashionistas in the family now.”
“Yeah, definitely!” You swallow, hoping he doesn’t see right through you.
Satisfied, he tilts his head towards your bedroom. “You should try it on!”
Defeated, you turn and trudge to your bedroom. Once you’re inside, you quickly pull off your favorite pajamas and change into the dress. Minho enters the room as you step into the mirror, and you truly have to clench your jaw to keep the horrified gasp that nearly escapes you.
The dress is an insult to fashion, if you’re being honest. The geometric pattern sporting an unflattering shade of orange makes you feel like a pumpkin. It looks like a shapeless blob on you, the swaths of fabric pooling unflatteringly at your waist. The knitted design is scratchy on your skin, making it incredibly uncomfortable. And to make everything worse, you catch the number on the price tag, and you want to faint.
Clearing your throat, you glance to your side over at Minho, who gazes wordlessly into the mirror at your reflection. “How do I look?”
He shakes his head softly, genuinely awestruck. “Beautiful. Just beautiful.”
You have an idea or two of what you really think you look like, but you plaster on a fake smile, hoping you’re selling it. “You’re the best husband ever.”
“I saw it in the store, and thought it would look so pretty on you.” Minho beams proudly, and he looks so innocent that you feel your heart break a little in guilt.
“Minho, baby.” You place a hand on his shoulder. “You really didn’t have to.”
He pouts. “But Changbin is hosting dinner tomorrow, and I wanted you to have something nice to wear.”
So what other option do you have than to thank him and give him a little kiss? You would wear that god-awful dress to Chanbin’s party for everyone to see, rather than hurt Minho’s feelings, right? Definitely.
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“Y/N, Minho! Come on in!” Changbin opens the door, welcoming you into his home.
You don’t miss his expression of shock as he lets you in, but ever the gracious host, Changbin smoothly covers it up with a smile and hugs you both. As you and Minho walk into the living room, where all of the guests are mingling over cocktails. You get similar looks from the others, but you glance over at Minho worriedly, hoping he doesn’t notice. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to, joining in on the conversation and laughing at someone’s joke.
You inhale and let yourself relax, searching the crowd for Hyunjin and Jisung, your two good friends. You spy Jisung loitering by the dessert table, discreetly piling brownies into napkins and tucking them into his pockets for later.
“Sneaking extra brownies, are we?” You creep up behind him, making him yelp and nearly drop his brownie. 
“Seriously—” Jisung looks over at you, prepared to shoot a comeback at you when he halts. “What in the world are you wearing?”
You roll your eyes. “A dress, okay? Minho got it for me.”
“Oh.” 
“Is there something you want to say, Jisung?”
He stuffs the brownie into his mouth to obviously conceal his laughter, but you don’t miss the faint smirk on his face. “Nothing.”
You give up. “Where’s Hyunjin?”
“Late, as usual.” Jisung swallows his brownie before eyeing the mini pizza bagels at the end of the table. “I’ll be right back.”
You turn and look for Minho, finding him chatting with Seungmin. Seungmin finishes refilling his wine glass and exits the kitchen, and Minho takes the chance to slip his arms around your waist, pulling you close.
“Enjoying the party?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
You nod, taking a sip of Minho’s drink. “Mhm.”
Minho looks down at you. “I’ll bet you’re getting a lot of compliments on your dress.”
“So many.” You flick an imaginary piece of lint off of said dress. You hate lying to him. 
Minho frowns, noticing how you’re avoiding his eyes, and opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, Hyunjin waltzes in, two hours after the party began.
You take the opportunity to change the subject. “Fashionably late, Hyunjin?”
“Yes, but I can’t say the same for you, Y/N.” Hyunjin bursts into laughter. “Where did you get that dress? It’s actually hideous.”
Usually, you wouldn’t mind such a comment coming from Hyunjin, because this kind of teasing banter was a normal exchange between you both. However, this time, Minho is the one who is responsible for your outfit.
And from the way the smile fades from Minho’s face, he is also listening. “What?”
You glare at Hyunjin. “No, it’s not.”
Hyunjin snickers, still not getting the hint. “You know damn well—”
“Y/N said she loved it.” Minho steps in, looking equal parts confused and upset. “I bought it for her yesterday.”
Hyunjin shuts up at last, finally realizing why you are shooting daggers at him with your eyes. “Ohhh. I was just kidding, Minho. Please don’t murder me.”
With that, Hyunjin quickly bolts out of the kitchen, leaving you and Minho alone. You peek over at Minho, only to see him sadly looking down at the floor. 
“Min…”
“I knew you hated it.” Minho puts his glass in the sink and walks out. With a frustrated groan, you follow after him, only to catch him in a very deep one-way conversation with Jisung, who just chews on his food while watching Minho rapidly ramble about cars. You understand that Minho is mortified and doesn’t want to talk to you, so you go back to Hyunjin, who has wandered into Changbin’s home gym and is messing with the weights. 
For the rest of the evening, there’s this tension you can’t name between you and Minho, and you both don’t exchange any words. When it’s time to leave, you both say goodbye to everyone before getting into your car. For a few minutes, there’s an awkward silence as Minho drives and stares straight ahead, not looking at you even once. Once you arrive at home, Minho parks, and you prepare to get down out of the car, but Minho speaks up. 
“I wish you just told me that you didn’t like the dress. Then I wouldn’t have been so embarrassed,” Minho says softly.
You sigh. “I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings, and you were so excited.”
“You should have been honest.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” 
Minho stays quiet for a moment, and you think he’s still disappointed, but then he looks over at you, a small grin on his face. “I’m sorry too. When you opened it I realized it really was so ugly, but I was too stubborn to admit it.”
You chuckle, relieved. “Maybe leave clothes shopping to me. You’re good at so many other things.”
“I agree. I can’t be too perfect, after all.” Minho winks at you playfully.
With an amused smile, you lean over and kiss your husband. His fashion sense may not be incredible, but you love him just the way he is.
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«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»
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TAGLIST @hamburgers101 @chansburgah @ajxreads @hash2013 @pixigreen @ana-marais98 @ohish @chizumiyoshi @lilydaisyyy @jetblackbelle @143hyunes
Network: @kflixnet
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©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.
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amourdivine · 6 months
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𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 🦢 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐒?
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Hello! Since I wanted to cross this to Instagram, I wrote a sweet and short reading on how you'll be able to recognize your FS. I really hope this resonates! Feedback is always appreciated; If you liked this reading, please consider booking a paid reading or tipping me at @ [email protected]! xo. ♡
follow me on my socials. youtube ✨ instagram
none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise.
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how to choose your pile.  take deep breaths for a few minutes & look at each and every one of the piles separately. which pile sparks a feeling inside you? which pile gives you a strong memory or calls out to you the most? take your time and feel free to come back to it later.
♡ ♡ ♡     pick a card masterlist & information.
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disclaimer. this is a general reading for entertainment purposes. tarot is a divination tool & is not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings.
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amourdivine. 2021 - 2023 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.
PILE 001.
three of wands • three of cups • eight of pentacles
Before being a good anything, this person is a good friend. You'll recognize them by their hardworking nature, their cooperation and team working skills. It's likely you'll meet them during a work travel or another kind of formal situation - perhaps on a group travel for a college project or some other kind of professional setting. Your FS will be extremely skilled and knowledgeable, but humble about it. You may end up collaborating with this person on something significant here, perhaps a business or a project together. I feel like they're very prim & proper, they'll never cross boundaries and will always be respectful of everyone's beliefs, religion and backgrounds. You'll recognize them by their patience, their independent, wise and practical nature.
Planets and signs: Earth energy, mainly Capricorn and Taurus.
♡ ♡ ♡ if you enjoyed this reading, please consider tipping me via paypal @ [email protected]!
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PILE 002.
two of swords • the empress • the hermit.
So much Venus and Libra here. This person is a people pleaser, not in a terrible way, but they want to be discerning, okay. They want to be fair and diplomatic. Your FS is thoughtful - you'll recognize them by how much they always want to do the right thing, to the point where it becomes borderline unhealthy and perfectionist. They want to make sure they make the best decisions for everyone in their lives. Your FS takes everyone's feelings into account because they care deeply about their family and loved ones. You'll recognize them for their big heart, their sensitive, introspective and gentle nature. They may be an overthinker as well, because your FS is terrified of hurting someone or doing the wrong thing by themselves or someone else. They're beautiful in all aspects.
Planets and signs: Earth and Air, mainly Libra and Virgo.
♡ ♡ ♡ if you enjoyed this reading, please consider tipping me via paypal @ [email protected]!
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PILE 003.
the star • three of swords • seven of swords.
Your FS is resilient, hopeful and cunning. You'll recognize them by their ability to outsmart the people who don't mean well, by their silver tongue and sharp wit. They have an uncanny ability to get past the heartbreaks and difficult moments in their life. This person has been through it, they've seen many things and they did not let the world get to them. While they may seem smug, your FS is confident in themselves to get through anything in life. They're hopeful, but they're not passive about their hope. They don't sit around and wait for things to improve - no, this person improves their own life and crafts their own destiny. Magician card energy. You'll recognize them by their stubbornness, their desire to fight for better things and their unique sense of humor.
Planets and signs: All air signs, mainly Aquarius and Gemini.
♡ ♡ ♡ if you enjoyed this reading, please consider tipping me via paypal @ [email protected]!
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PILE 004.
page of swords • eight of pentacles • justice.
Your FS is a curious, busy and hardworking person. You'll recognize them by how many questions about life they have - they're a truth seeker. They could work in the legal or justice system. This person may be a bookworm and likes asking the hard, philosophical questions. They're not afraid of harsh truths and confronting the people who have done something wrong. Your FS may strongly believe in karma, or perhaps they have a very strong ethic and moral code. You'll recognize them by how passionate, eager and restless they seem for something greater than what the world can offer. A larger-than-life personality. Someone honest, curious, non-judgmental and principled.
Planets and signs: mainly Libra and Gemini, with a feel of Sagittarius.
♡ ♡ ♡ if you enjoyed this reading, please consider tipping me via paypal @ [email protected]!
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amourdivine. © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.
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aphroditelovesu · 6 months
Note
I have another TLQ request for you, but only if you want to do it!
I want to request a oneshot or reaction blurb where Reader meets Bucephalus. I used to do some horseback riding, and all my horse books always mentioned him. I always loved the story about how he was frightened of his own shadow and how a young Alexander helped him overcome it by directing him towards the sun😭. Honestly, I would be freaking out just as much (if not more) about meeting Bucephalus as I would be about meeting Alexander.
As a bonus, maybe he (Bucephalus) actually likes our girl and even let's her sit on him and maybe ride him a little? Some sources claim that he only let alexander ride him. The fact that he lets reader do it too could encourage Alexander's infatuation with her. It would also be an interesting story for historians. However, I'll leave the details up to you.
Thanks again! 💞😊
--O-
❝ 📜— lady l: I'm not sure if it turned out good, but... It's what I managed to do with the little time I have, I hope you like it anyway and feel free to give me your opinion! Good reading and sorry for any mistakes! ❤️
❝tw: none, just fluffly and soft yan!Alexander.
❝📜 word count: 1,185.
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The place where they kept the horses was, to say the least, disgusting. You couldn't judge, not much, considering where you were, but still they could have been a little more careful with the poor horses.
This irritated you and it wasn't a small matter. You should have a serious talk with Alexander later.
You looked around, making sure no one was around. Knowing that all the servants and slaves, by god how you hated this part, were busy as the camp would soon move again, you decided to try your luck and take a horse for a ride.
You felt like a criminal, and in a way, you were.
Although all you wished was to be able to ride a little. There wasn't much to do in the camp at the moment, Alexander and the others were busy in war councils and you found yourself bored. Wanting a little action and no bloodshed, preferably.
Sighing loudly, you looked at the available horses. There weren't many, just those mounted by the cavalry and the generals and the King.
Okay, maybe there were several.
You weren't picky, anyone would do. Your goal was simple; take a horse, sneak it out of camp, that was the hard part, ride it for a bit and then give it back. It couldn't be that difficult, could it?
You looked at the horses who ignored you. Everyone was interested in their food.
All but one.
You smirked when you saw that a black horse, a stallion, you noticed, was the only one who didn't ignore you. Instead, he looked back at you as if challenging you.
He was daring you to get closer to him, to ride him.
Your heart skipped a beat, you knew who that horse was.
Bucephalus.
The legendary horse of Alexander the Great.
''Hey...'' You whispered the words, not sure what to do.
You always liked animals and you couldn't deny that you had an affection for horses and look where you were. Head-on with one of the most famous horses in history. How should you react? No, doing so was beyond your comprehension, but then again, everything that had happened in your life in the last few weeks was beyond comprehension. So finding Bucephalus was normal, even.
At least it wasn't Incitatus, you were grateful for it.
Bucephalus whinnied at you, still looking at you with those deep black eyes. They reminded you of someone.
''Eh... Mister Bucephalus?'' As soon as the words left your mouth you scoffed at yourself. Really? By god, (Y/N), what is wrong with you? It's just a horse.
Except it wasn't just a horse. It was the horse.
You looked at her in wonder. He was magnificent, his fine black fur, his physical size and intense black eyes were beautiful. You dare say he was the most beautiful stallion you had ever seen in your entire life.
Absolutely wonderful.
''You're amazing, aren't you?'' You approached unconsciously and brought your right hand to his snout, stroking it slowly and gently. Bucephalus didn't back away but he didn't make a sound, he just stared at you.
With courage drawn from God only knows where, you decided on a more direct approach. ''Do you mind if I... Ride you?''
It probably wasn't what you should have done but there were no witnesses at the time, right?
Bucephalus whinnied in response, although you didn't understand if it was a yes or a no. You bit your lower lip and guided him out of the place where he was being kept.
You were either very brave or very stupid. Or maybe you were both.
You saw that he was still wearing a saddle, which meant that Alexander had ridden him earlier and hadn't had it removed. You almost cursed him for it out loud, almost.
''Where do you think you're going with my horse?'' You jumped up and your spine froze when you heard the voice that had been disturbing you for weeks.
Fuck.
You turned to look at Alexander. You gave a humorless laugh, ''I... Well, you see...''
He crossed his arms and glared at you.
''Alright. You see, I was bored and wanted to ride a little.''
''With Bucephalus?''
You decided to play dumb, ''Bucephalus? Oh, I didn't know it was him...''
''You didn't know?'' He said very slowly and you knew you had been caught. But to your confusion and relief, he started laughing.
You looked at him confused and he stopped laughing but kept smiling.
''You lie better than that.''
He was right. Even a child would lie better than you had lied now.
''Sorry.'' You mumbled softly. Alexander approached you and touched your face gently, you looked at him and blushed when you saw the way he looked at you.
With adoration and love. Just like he had looked at you at the wedding and on your wedding night. You blushed a little as you remembered the last part.
He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, ''There's nothing to be sorry for.'' He whispered and you felt your body heat up a little. By the gods, what had this man done to you?
Alexander pulled away a little, ''Did you say you wanted to ride for a bit?'' You nodded. He smiled, ''Ride with me.''
You blinked in surprise.
''Are you sure?''
Alexander nodded.
''Alright then.'' You took a deep breath and watched Alexander guide Bucephalus out. You can't help but notice the bond they had, Alexander's affectionate and even protective way with Bucephalus. The whispers that Alexander whispered to his horse and the caresses.
You followed them and stopped in front of Bucephalus.
''Mount him first, let's see if Bucephalus will let you mount him.'' Alexander said, still stroking his stallion's head.
You nodded and tried to mount Bucephalus. To your surprise, he didn't try to move or run away, he just stayed still while you climbed onto his back.
''Try to guide him a little.''
You took the reins and kicked it very lightly in the side and Bucephalus began to move forward. You smiled and didn't notice Alexander's smile as he walked behind you and Bucephalus.
This was truly incredible, he thought, the fact that Bucephalus let you ride him proved that you were indeed perfect for him.
Alexander watched with satisfaction as you rode Bucephalus, looking quite pleased with yourself. It made him happy, seeing you so happy. He had gotten the feeling that you were sad these past few weeks and that didn't sit well with him.
You should be happy.
He would deal with it later. There was nothing he wouldn't do for you, he realized that very quickly. Alexander loved you so much that he would be willing to give up on conquering the Persian Empire if you asked him to.
You were his greatest weakness and his greatest strength.
You truly were his perfect Queen. And Alexander will be damned if he lets you go. You would never leave him, he will make sure of that.
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coralinnii · 2 years
Text
being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy pt.2
feat. Azul, Kalim
note: this is kinda a long post, can be interpreted as gn!reader, reader is different for each character, I might write blurbs cuz I like the villain/ess genre
part 1 part 2 part 3
series masterlist
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Did the universe hate you? You pondered your past life choices that may have condemned you into this hopeless situation. You didn’t even like this webtoon you unceremoniously got sent to because the main characters were nothing but self-centered idiots. Worse, you got reincarnated as the lovesick betrothed of the male lead, who was going to have their engagement annulled then be abandoned by your greedy family.
Really, the only reason you even kept reading was for the cool if somewhat dorky count who rose from a nobody to one of the successful business figures in the kingdom…Hey now…
So now you were sitting across from the one and only Azul Ashengrotto as he sized you up with a business smile as his servants prepared refreshments. For as confident as you try to be, the ball in his court and your future cushioned life is dependent on him. At least the twin brothers from that marquis family weren't here.
“So, what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”
“I’m going to let you use me”
“Urk—!”
Ah, you should’ve waited until after he finished his tea.
Aside from your love life, you were winning in every other department. You were a high ranking noble as well as a beautiful social butterfly of high society. You weren’t ahead of the trends, you were the trend and since you knew the story of this world, you knew what were hits and misses in the market.
“I can give you want to know in the high social circle, whatever you have me wear or eat with my appraisal, I can make it the biggest trend of the season. All I want is a cut”
As skeptical as Azul was, he couldn’t disagree with your points and he was sure he could spin this partnership in his favor considering you were thought to be a lovesick puppy (hah, he thought). With a lengthy discussion on the contract (a meager 10% cut on your side? Really, Azul?), the two of you shook on it.
With a smile too innocent to be real, you offered “Should we go on a date?”
Oh, you were going to be the death of this man.
Your “dates” were just spending the day in the village disguised, surveying promising businesses, cuisines, and artisans (though a flustered count is also a win in your books). With your insights and Azul’s careful research, high society was eating out of your hands, waiting to see which business would receive his Midas’ touch.
You kept your contributions hidden as you didn’t want your family to monopolize your share and secretly hoped that your family and fiancé would still care for you even without these merits. Perhaps you were more hopeless than you realized.
While your soon-to-be husband was off somewhere without informing you (though you already knew where he was going, and who he was going to), you paid a visit to your favourite restaurant which happens to be owned by your favourite associates. The more you spend time with Azul and inevitably the Leech twins, the more you yearn for a life with this much joy.
“Hey Mandarin fishy” oh, Floyd is lucky he’s so adorable. “Your future hubby is awfully chummy with that little remora” he noted as he casually slung his legs over your own, sounding nonchalant but you could see the flicker of curiosity in his mismatched eyes. “You ain’t scared the love of your life’s gonna run away?”
You knew the story’s coming to its climax as the “love of your life” is messing around with that baron’s daughter. Soon, he will announce the annulment in front of everyone and you will be “abandoned” for his true love.
Your eyes then glanced over to your business partner discussing the logistics of the shipment of jewelry materials with the other marquis heir. Despite your casual nagging, you did admire the genuine effort the bespectacled businessman puts in. However, you could see the twitch towards your direction, curious of your thoughts as well.
“Cute” you hid your smile as you took a sip of your favourite blend of tea (how considerate of Azul), “If a little remora was enough to convince that idiot to make a fool of himself in front of our families, then I’d count it a blessing to be rid of him”
Floyd laughs at your heartless dismissal while even Jade let out a chuckle under his breath. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene before you, at the people you hope to call friends (and maybe more in the future with a certain someone). You saved enough to buy a quaint home in the capital (Azul recommended a home conveniently close to his own) and there were pre-orders of delectable tea that became a hit when a wealthy traveler from a foreign country offered a sample at the restaurant, being well handled by the fair-haired count in front of you, guaranteed to be ready for your next social tea party.
As you notice the subtle quirk of a genuine smile on your diligent business partner, you feel content with confirmation.
You definitely prefer smart men.
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No, no, no, no! This can’t be real!
It’s one thing to reincarnate as a servant of a wealthy family, must you be reincarnated as the servant that gets executed for poisoning the oldest son?!
This was the start of the dramatic novel you just finished where you, a new servant of the Asim family, were in love with a greedy relative, who persuaded you to poison the heir to cause turmoil in the mansion. Your younger sibling was sick and your “lover” promised to give you and your sibling a good life if you succeed. Sadly, you knew you were just a scapegoat in their plan.
It hurts even more that the intended recipient of the poison was your bias, the lovable Kalim Al-Asim who doesn’t have a single bad bone in his body. But what could you do? The poison was in your hand and your execution was practically cemented, whether by the hands of the Asim family or by your “beloved”.
Feeling hopeless, you submit yourself in front of Kalim, his father, and his attendants with the vial in hand. You confessed the plan to poison the heir, how that traitor promised to save your sibling if you followed them. You pray that maybe they would banish you and you could run away with your sibling, for however long you could before that relative would eventually eliminate you.
You didn’t even realize you were crying until the fair-headed heir cradled your face in his hands and wiped your tears from your glassy eyes, his own scarlet eyes watery.
“I’ll save you and your family!”
Unable to change Kalim’s decision, your attempt of treason was overlooked, and Kalim even sent the best doctors to see your sibling.
Shoot, this man sure knew how to capture your heart.
Of course, your testament isn’t enough to prosecute the greedy relative so you offered yourself as a poison tester should they attempt the second time. If the story stays on path, that traitor isn’t going to stop anytime soon.
Since then, you worked to prove yourself a devoted servant to the Asim family, especially to Kalim who brings you around to try every cuisine and street food that tickles his fancy. Even Jamil, who was very skeptical of your motives, deemed you harmless (apparently, he decided he could easily disarm you if you do attempt anything).
What made you and Kalim really close (though Kalim was a fairly affectionate man to begin with) was when you offered to help with his studies. You were familiar with certain subjects as they were similar in your old world and having someone around helps the energetic heir to focus. Every time Kalim would call your name with that bright grin of his never fails to bring out a smile of your own.
Your closeness with the oldest son did not go unnoticed. Soon, the traitorous relative came up to you as you were on your way to see Kalim. They gave you a second chance, to kill Kalim then they would forgive you after your failed poisoning attempt. Obviously, you told them to f*ck off stop their plans and leave before you call the guards.
Suddenly, your vision and body became disorientated as you fall to the floor with a sting on your cheek.
“You insolent commoner! You think anyone would care if you get hurt or even die? Don’t make me laugh!”
They slapped you. Your body is shaking from the shock of such sudden violence. You looked up and saw the traitor standing over you with rage as they raised their hand again. You were too slow to stand so you had no choice but close your eyes and grit your teeth as you anticipated the next hit.
Except it never happened.
Instead you were gently lifted to your feet. You turned to see Jamil assisting you to your feet as guards surrounded you and the traitor, with Kalim standing between the two of you.
You have never seen the usually jolly heir like this. His laid-back demeanor was almost non-existent as he kept his weapon pointed at his relative with a glare that seemed deadlier and sharper.
“You…” you've never imagined such an icy tone from your master, even at his worst until now. “You may be family, but I will never forgive you for hurting my precious treasure”
With his command, you saw the traitor pulled away to his awaited fate. Kalim then turned to you and he worriedly rushed to you, cradling your face in his hands to inspect your injury. It’s funny. It’s just like when you first met him.
“Master Kalim, thank you so much” you wanted to say more but honestly, you couldn’t find the words to truly express how much you love this man.
With his show of his signature grin, he replied “Of course, I’ll always save you”
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misspearly1 · 1 year
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115 and 116 with joel bear? <3
Oh my Gosh! Nonnie, forgive me for how long I have taken to complete this. I'm working through my requests slowly. These prompts though?? 🥹 Oh so good for our beloved Joel bear! Thank you so much for sending this into my blog and I hope you enjoy the read. 💜
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A Beautiful Thing
Pairing: Joel Miller x Y/N (F!Reader)
WC: 3.9K
Prompts: "You wrote me a song?" // "You weren't supposed to hear that!"
Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Strangers to lovers. Love at first sight. Soft Joel playing the gee-tar. Joel being a tease. Reader worrying that she had ruined a surprise, but Joel making her feel better about it. Light Smut. Ass Groping & Kissing. Lots of Fluff with a Happy Ending.
Song Choice: It's Your Love by Tim McGraw - inspired this story, the title, and the song that Joel sings in this story. It doesn't belong to me, of course, but I'm stating that all credit goes to the original singers/songwriters just in case I need to.
AN: Ok, I was deep in the fluffy feels with this one Nonnie. There isn't any smut really - which is strange because I'm always a horny ass bish for Joel lol - but let me know if you'd like a part two with some smut. I'd love to come back to this story. 💖
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You have a lot of good days and bad days here in Jackson. Everyone does. It’s just the way life goes, and although the scales sometimes tip too much on the bad side, it only makes you appreciate all the good that much more. 
Take today for example, you woke up bright and early, ate breakfast and felt energetic, then went out on patrol and came back to Jackson without a scratch before taking a shower for date night at your boyfriends house.
It doesn’t sound like much, but when the world went to shit and the chances of dying at any given second became higher than ever, then that is considered a really good day in your books. 
Besides, even if you did have a bad day, then what better way to turn it around than spending an evening with Joel Miller - your boyfriend - whom you deem to be the sexiest man alive?
You vividly remember how Joel took your breath away the first time you met him. Albeit, he was chopping wood under the summer sun with no shirt on in his backyard, but he was, and still is, the sexiest guy you’ve ever laid eyes on. 
This happened just over six months ago, and the only reason you were in his backyard in the first place was to ask for advice about carving a sculpture out of wood, but drooling over his half naked body is what you did instead for a few minutes before he noticed you were standing there.
The man caught you eyeing him up and down, and thankfully for your sake, he felt flattered rather than uncomfortable. You often think about that day and smile fondly at how he reacted to your mindless ogling. The way he blushed a little and softly chuckled never fades from your memory.
You apologised for the intrusion of course, and for staring at him too, then explained that you were there to seek his professional advice. He was a carpenter after all and you assumed he’d know how to help. The project you were working on at the time was a three foot wooden rabbit. You’ve always believed they brought good luck and wanted something decorative for your home.
Joel naturally took an interest in your project and instead of just giving you a short answer and a couple pointers, he offered you a seat on his back porch and gave some really helpful advice on what to do and what not to do. You sat with the man for twenty minutes and the conversation flowed like you were a friend to him, not a stranger. He really made you feel comfortable and welcome, even offered you a tall glass of lemonade with ice upon noticing you were burning up from the sun in the sky.
You accepted his offer, but later admitted that it was actually his voice causing you to burn up. Not only were you attracted to his looks, but you were attracted to that thick southern drawl of his too. He spoke with a pleasantly deep, yet equally soft and smooth tone, one that just captured your whole attention and drew you in.
Joel's company was captivating, and you hungrily wanted more of his attention, but even though he didn't give you any reason to end the conversation, you made an excuse to leave and let him get back to chopping wood. You didn’t want to leave so soon after meeting him, but you had already taken up too much of his time and thanked him before saying your goodbyes. His response however, was most surprising.
“Happy to help, darlin’,” is what he said to you, and the flirtatious wink he shot your way made you feel weak in the knees. It was a simple gesture, but he did it so smoothly and with a seductive smirk on his lips too that just made you all the more attracted to him. 
You left Joel that day, feeling giddy, turned on and a little lightheaded too, then planned to return three days later with a home baked cherry pie to say thanks for the help, but to your absolute surprise and delight, the man showed up at your door just as you had taken the pie out of your oven.
He wanted to see you again and had asked his brother where you live to show up at your door unannounced. You invited him into your home, shared that cherry pie over another captivating conversation and the rest was history. 
Six months later, here you are now; in a steady relationship with the man and your love for each other grows stronger everyday. You still drool over him and even consider it a hobby of yours to watch him work, especially when he’s in his workshop.
You like to be in his company and often just sit on the sofa with a book to read while he chips and chisels away at a block of wood, creating another masterpiece worthy of a place on display around his home. But more often than not, your book is abandoned as you choose to gaze upon him instead.
No matter how many times you’ve done it before, you never grow tired of admiring the way Joel looks while working. He has a little lamp in his desk, it’s dimly lit and casts a warm glow across his face which just highlights his rugged good looks in the very best way. 
The focus and patience he has with woodwork is quite impressive too. You love to see that look of concentration on his face. It’s the way his eyes glide across his sculpture and his brows furrow, or the way he sometimes presses the tip of his tongue against his lip. You don’t know why he does that, but it’s really cute and funny to see nonetheless. Suppose it’s just one of those things that some people do without realising it. 
While you often like to gaze at him in his workshop, he likes to gaze at you too, especially when dancing in the dark. It’s become something that you and Joel do almost every night. He waits till nightfall, when all the lights are off and you’re about to head upstairs to bed or say goodnight and head home. Spontaneously grabbing your hand, he’ll pull you toward his chest and sway to the sweet sound of silence, grinning brightly as you laugh with endearment.
Dancing in the dark. That was Joel’s thing. He started it, but it’s something you very quickly grew to love. Speaking of love, he often swears that your love does something to him while dancing in the dark with you. He’ll joke and say that he’s under a spell, but can’t get enough while looking into your eyes and brushing a piece of hair behind your ear to really drink in the sight of your face mere inches away from his. 
And you believe him. Believe every word of what he says. He certainly acts like he can’t get enough of your love as he finds any and all ways to adore you. “Darlin’, your love is a beautiful thing.” He’s said to you many times before in the past and you believe him, but you never forget to tell him that his love is also a beautiful thing as well. The man treasures you, thinks the world of you and keeps you close to his heart. Those feelings are mutual. You feel the same way as he does, and honestly, you can see yourself spending the rest of your days with Joel. 
Upon spending the last several minutes thinking about the man, the desire to be in his company was growing rapidly, thus making you pick up your pace to reach his house faster. He unfortunately lives on the other side of Jackson, therefore it takes a solid ten minutes to walk there depending on your speed. Usually, you just take a leisurely stroll, but tonight you’re feeling extra needy for his love and attention.
Approaching his front door with your own key in hand, a key that he gave you two weeks ago, you unlock the door and slip inside quietly without making any noise. Joel admitted that he would have given you a key to his home sooner, but he worried about how it would make you feel and assured you that the gesture doesn’t need to be reciprocated. He just didn’t want to rush you, or make you feel obligated in any way, but you wanted to. You wanted him to have access to your house like it was his second home, and so you took your spare key and gave it to him two weeks ago on that very same day. 
Truthfully, you like to spend most evenings over at Joel’s house compared to yours. You can’t describe it exactly, or pin-point the reason why, but his house just feels the right place to be. Despite that, he also has such great taste in decoration too. You admire the way he furnished his place. It looks better than yours and feels cosy, welcoming and relaxed. 
Since you could hear the familiar twang of his guitar upon entering his home, you guessed that he was out back on the porch. It’s one of two usual spots that he likes to sit and play till his heart's content. You love to listen to him, and considering you wanted to take him by surprise, you tip-toed your way into the kitchen and through the laundry room to listen at the back door. However, you didn’t recognise the tune. 
The song Joel was playing is something he hasn’t ever played before, but it started off with an acoustic that was warm and gentle. Just so soothing to the ears that you instantly relaxed as your face softened with a smile. You leaned against the doorframe and closed your eyes, listening to him harmonising with the melody that he had created. The sound of him humming was so peaceful that it could lull you to sleep right here, but then he started singing and your heart skipped a beat. 
“Dancing in the dark, middle of the night,” he says poetically, the lyrics of his song catching your attention right away, “Taking your heart, and holding it tight,” he continues and you continue to listen closely, “Emotional touch, touching my skin, and asking you to do what you’ve been doing all over again. Oh, it’s a beautiful thing,” you gasp, holding your hand over your mouth with tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. “Don’t think I can keep it all in. I just gotta let you know what it is that won’t let me go. It’s your love, it just does something to me.” 
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It was a complete shock to hear a song so moving and meaningful, and sung so beautifully by Joel that’s about you and your love. You had so much joy exploding inside of you that it was overwhelming, though he stopped abruptly and you peeped around the door to find him jotting words down on a little pocket pad - his song book. 
He looked so enthralled as he continued where he left off, his head bobbing along to the tune as he tapped his foot against the floor. You still couldn’t believe it and almost felt compelled to pinch your skin to check if this was all a dream. Joel rarely sings for you. He plays the guitar for you all the time, but to actually sing along to his music takes a lot of courage and just hearing him sing so passionately with confidence was sending shivers down your spine. 
His voice was transcendent and mesmerising, full of affection and romance. It made you feel like you were at the centre of his world, enveloped in the warmth of his love. Though, as much as you loved to hear the man sing, it didn’t feel right doing it this way. You were essentially eavesdropping on him at a time where he was most vulnerable, and it’s not fair.
He doesn’t know you’re standing just a few feet away, and what if that betrays his trust if he were to find out? Or worse, what if it destroys his confidence to ever sing in front of an audience? The worry of this possibility made up your mind. He can’t know you’re here. Not yet and not like this. 
Moving away from the door and quietly making your way towards the kitchen, your plan is to open the front door and shut it loud enough for him to hear. Then he will stop singing, hide his songbook and you can pretend that this never happened until he is ready to play his song for you. You could still hear him as you neared the front of the house, and the sound of his voice was as beautiful as ever. 
Upon reaching the front door, you opened it and shut it again before calling out for him like this was your first entry. “Hi baby!” You say excitedly, “I’m home.” 
The music stops instantly and it makes you stifle a laugh to hear him yell back like he wasn’t just singing his heart out. “Hey darlin’, I’m in the backyard,” I know that, you thought, “Come out here. I got somethin’ to show yer.” Oh shit… You panicked, wondering what he had to show you and if you have just spoiled your own surprise. What if he was going to play the song for me tonight anyway and I ruined it? You ask yourself with a pang of regret. 
You didn’t know what to think or what to expect when you approached the backdoor for a second time, but the smile on Joel’s face brought you some comfort and relief. After all, you were eager to see him tonight and are still very much hungry for his love and attention, but if you have ruined something special, then you at least hope some of the surprise can be salvaged. 
Hurrying towards him and taking a seat right on his lap, you held both your hands to each side of his face and leaned in to plant a kiss on his lips, displaying just how much you miss him. He kisses you back ravenously and smiles like he hadn’t seen you in days when it was only last night that you last saw each other. The fact that he missed you just as much made your heart swell. 
Naturally, he laid both hands to your ass with a groping squeeze, humming deeply into your mouth with satisfaction. You like when he holds onto your ass like this. It makes you feel adored and aroused. He breaks off to look at you, his smile slowly turning into a smirk as he whispers. “Hi, gorgeous” 
“Hey, stud,” you reply and mirror his smile, though your cheeks started to burn up under his wanton gaze. “How’s it going?” You ask upon recognising the playful mood he was in and return the gesture with your teasing tone of voice, “I see that you have your guitar out here. Playing for the stars again?" 
“Oh, you saw that, did you?” He chuckles with amusement, as if he were pleased with himself and you can tell that he’s up to something since he had that look in his eyes; it was just full of mischief. You looked at him suspiciously, your eyes narrowed as he continued to laugh. “Yeah, I have my guitar out here…” he slowly bit his lip, and he did it in such a sexually provocative manner that it made you clench around nothing. “I was singing a song.” 
“M-hm,” you roll your lips together and quickly gather that he’s onto you. That’s why he’s acting this way… He knows. “And um… What song were you singing?” You try to come across like you don’t have the slightest clue, as if you don’t already know he was singing. 
His chest swells with pride as he answers truthfully, “I was singing your song, babydoll.” 
“You wrote me a song?” You beam excitedly. Even though you already knew, it didn’t take away how incredibly special you feel upon hearing the man say those words himself. Perhaps some of his surprise for you was salvaged after all. You weren’t taken aback with shock, but you felt your stomach flutter and your heart begin to pick up speed once again. He still looked so happy too, and you could tell he was savouring the way you reacted.
“Yes darlin’. I wrote you a song and I was singing it just now, but-” he looks at you with accusatory eyes, “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” 
Now you were taken aback with shock, and he began to laugh at your reaction, the sound was sweet and authentic to your ears. It didn’t sound fake or full of mockery. He just sounded so amused and happy, really happy as a matter of fact, and he ran his hands up your back reassuringly. “You weren’t supposed to hear that yet,” he clarifies, and it gives you some comfort, “It’s ok that you did, and I appreciate that you tried to make it better by pretending you didn’t hear me.” 
“Fuck…” You sigh and shake your head, blaming yourself for ruining everything. “Did you know I was standing there the whole time?” You ask incredulously. 
“No, not quite, sweetheart.” He replies, thus causing you a great deal of confusion. If he didn’t know I was here, then how did he know I heard him singing? You wonder while he continues to smile and shake softly with a chuckling laughter escaping him. He’s too happy, and that look on his face spoke of pleasure. 
“Wanna take a wild guess as to how I knew?” He asks, then pauses briefly with one of his brows raised, as if giving you a chance to think about his question before answering. But you didn’t answer. You couldn't answer, so he did instead. “Since when do you come home and announce you're here?” 
“Oh my God, Joel,” you cry out with embarrassment. Burying your face into his neck and lamenting over your mistake, you could still feel him shaking ever so slightly as he continued to laugh at your failure. “Of course!” You moan into his shirt with a ghost of a smile on your lips. “How could I have been so stupid and forget about that. Of course you would know something was up.” 
“You’re not stupid at all. Don’t say that, babe,” he chides. Sliding his hand up your spine and cupping the back of your head, his embrace tightens a little as he plants a kiss in your hair, the action making you feel less disappointed with yourself. “I know you were thinking what’s best for me,” he says, hugging you closely, “And that’s something special right there, doll.” 
Tilting your head to rest your cheek against his neck, his words gave you even more relief and comfort, though the worry around fucking everything up still remained. You lift your head to look at him, expressing a look of regret in your eyes and ask: “When did you originally plan to play me the song?” You sigh, chewing on the inside of your lip with self-annoyance, “I just feel really bad, you know? Like I ruined something special you had planned to surprise me with.” 
“You didn’t ruin anything,” he promised. Shifting his position a little more to aid his comfort, he leans back and kicks his feet up onto the table before pulling you to sit directly over his crotch. The action was nothing out of the ordinary, he prefers you to sit like this as much as you do, but it made you gasp softly upon feeling his bulge press into your heat from below.
He heard the noise you made and recognised the way it made you feel, causing him to smirk before resting his hands to your ass once again. “I hadn’t decided when to play it for you,” he answers, shrugging. “I just couldn’t make up my mind… was overthinkin’ the how and when to do it, but I shoulda’ just played it for you a long time ago.” 
“Wait…” You tilt your head at him, confused, “What do you mean by a long time ago? How long have you been working on this?” 
He grins brightly, his cheeks starting to blush a little from your questions, but he had no problem in answering them truthfully. “Six months ago, right after I met you in our backyard,” he says, and it really takes your emotions on a rollercoaster ride as you don't know what to say or what to think. Though, your silence didn’t discourage him and he continued. “I knew you were different darlin’, and as soon as you left me, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about yer,” your face burns with flattery as you absorb his compliments. “Couldn’t even get back to chopping wood. I was that head over heels for yer… So, I grabbed my guitar and started playing something I never played before.” 
“Really?” You manage to break your silence to ask.
“Really babydoll.” He responds with an affirmative nod. “The tune came first, but the lyrics came later and…” he pauses momentarily to brush your hair behind your ear and gaze into your eyes. “...That day I showed up at your door and we shared the cherry pie in your kitchen? That’s when I knew for sure you were different. I knew in my heart that you were something special, Y/N.” 
“Joel,” you blurt his name with an elevated tone in your voice, your smile displaying nothing but delight and rejoice. “Did I really make you fall that hard for me?” You cry out and laugh sweetly, as if you couldn’t believe him even though he’s just said it himself. He fell just as hard as you did the moment you laid your eyes upon him. The feeling was mutual. It always has been. 
“Yes ma’am, I did indeed,” he drawls thickly, the crows feets around his eyes deepening, “And showing up at your door unannounced was the first best decision I ever made in our relationship.” He details, though it piqued your interest and you had to ask: “If that was the first, then what was the second best decision you ever made?” 
Joel pulls you in, placing his lips to your cheek with a tickling kiss as he whispers teasingly. “I’m sure you can figure that one out,” he chuckles softly before peering into your eyes and holding your line of sight. You hear the way his breath hitches in his throat, see the way he looks at your lips and smiles, his eyes expanding with love and devotion. It’s the way he looks at you every night, and sure, you could figure out what the second best decision he ever made was, but you wanted to hear him say it himself. You wanted to hear him ask you that question. 
And not a second later, he did ask you that question, and your answer was an immediate yes.
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Tagging:
Perma Taglist (Everything): @marydjarin @kirsteng42 @supernaturalgirl @supernaturalgirl20 @harriedandharassed @joelmillerscoffee @joelsrifle @swtaura @alexxavicry @boliv-jenta @dragonsondragons @practicalghost @janebby @faceache111 @sleepylunarwolf @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @munsonownsmyass
Joel Miller Taglist: @extraneous-trip @readsalot73 @luvmeijii @pale-gingerale @something-tofightfor @hb8301 @squidwell @spideysimpossiblegirl @mooraakath @michele131 @chxpsi @zeida @wordsfromshona @trickstersp8 @killergoddessmm  @kunakizen @scorpio-marionette @oogaboogasphincter 
Tags that did not work: @churchofrain @joelsflannel @dins-cyare @maggiehelene @joelsflannel @anismaria @ponyofmilfmom
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sweetriverdalewater · 5 months
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A somewhat meet cute
authors note: first time writing in a while and its def not the best, but i couldnt resist writing about him <3 also havent proof read lol
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You were waiting for you flight to New York from Chicago to visit your friend. Your friend was going to NYU, and it was your first time flying to New York.
You have been getting eye contact with an attractive passenger at your gate. He was really tall, and you liked his appearance. He was wearing dark sweats and a hoody. You have been trying to focus on your book, but you couldn’t focus at all as you felt eyes on you. You have been sitting and debating for the past fifteen minutes if you should talk to him considering the fact that you have smiled to each other multiple times because you keep meeting his eye.
You muster up confidence and slowly walk towards him. His eyes not leaving the screen of his phone. You walk closer to him, feeling eyes on you. you lock eyes with some of his friends.  When he noticed a pair of feet close to him, he looks up meeting your eyes. You melt and see his chocolate brown eyes. “Hi” you blush, “I just, uhm.. I noticed that we are going on the same plane and wanted to say you are really cute. I was wondering if I could buy you a coffee?” you smile nervously. “Hi, nice to meet you” he says smiling, pushing his hand towards you, and you mentally smack yourself on the head. You feel his friends laughing silently. “Hi, I'm y/n” you say as you reach for his handshake. You both shake hands while staring at each other, you hear his friend snicker, “his name is Nico”. He completely forgot to say his name because he was taken back by your sweet smile. “Right, I'm Nico! So, how about that coffee?” he beams. He stands up and you feel him towering your whole body. You smile brightly and walk towards Starbucks. You start talking, and you ask if those guys were his friends and he nodded while apologizing. You buy coffee and slices of lemon loaf cake for him and his friends, a total of 6. The conversation was very smooth, and everyone watching could tell there was an attraction between you. “How old are you?” I blurted out, reaching for the bag of cake slices, he chuckles, “I'm 26, and you?” thank God, you thought to yourself. “I'm 25. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t hitting on a minor. Not that you look like a minor, but I have been hit on by an 18-year-old before.” You blabber. He starts bursting out laughing, he could not believe how cute you were. “What?” you bite your lip nervously. He was stunned by your beauty and how you bit your lip. He could feel something flutter in his stomach, “I-, nothing, it was just very cute” he beams, and you blush. You arrive back to his friends; you tell them to enjoy, and they all look surprised and politely decline. You insisted and they happily started munching on their slices. You told them it was nice meeting them and you start walking back to your seat. “I’ll sit with you” Nico says, “oh, you don’t have to!” he doesn’t listen and follow you while he sits next to you. you spend the next thirty minutes talking and you found yourself enjoying his presence. He felt at peace while talking to you. “Boarding for first class and business class passengers! Boarding for first class and business class passengers.” The speaker distracted us from the conversation. “Nico, that’s us” you hear his friend yell for Nico. He tells you goodbye and hopes to see you again. By the time you were boarding the plane, you had completely forgotten to take his contact info, and mentally write to remember.
You try to scan your boarding card, but an alarm keeps beeping. You embarrassingly walk towards the counter, “ma’am, there has been a change to your ticket.” The staff says, she gives you a new ticket. It says first class, “there has been a mistake, I haven’t paid for a first-class ticket!” you say panicking, thinking you had bought the wrong ticket. She didn’t reply and ushered you to board quickly considering you were the only one there after everyone had boarded. You walk into the plane, and look to find your seat. As you look for you seat number you find Nico waving and smiling to you, you look confused. Your seat was right beside him, “I got upgraded” you say in disbelief. “I know, I upgraded you” he says causally. “You what? I- you-, I- no. what” you confusedly fluster your words. “It’s a little thank you for the coffee and cakes… from us” he beams and points to his friends smiling. You started arguing saying that a coffee was nothing compared to an upgrade. You were silenced by the flight attendant as the flight departed. You somehow managed to buy him a dinner one day when you arrived as a thank you and he couldn’t say no. You slept through most of the time, but kept talking to him when he wasn’t sleeping.
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pink-sparkly-witch · 4 months
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Spring in Fall
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Summary: Jensen Ackles has spent his whole adult life in front of the camera, but now he wants something more. Something he’s not been able to find yet: an omega to settle down with. When Y/N Y/L/N arrived on the set of Supernatural, the alpha may just find all he’s ever wanted – his true mate.
Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Female Omega!Reader
Rating: Teen
Bingo Square: Scent Bond for @jacklesversebingo
Warnings: Omegaverse, A/B/O dynamics (no smut or anatomy talk), fluff, scenting.
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: This WIP has sat unfinished for over a year. When I got the ‘Scent Bond’ bingo square for Jacklesverse, I just knew this would be the perfect fill and found my fluffy bone long enough to get this finished! I hope you love this absolute floof 😘
My Masterlist     AO3    Ko-Fi
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Jensen was irritable. That much was obvious from the Goddamn moon. In fact, irritable was too polite a word for what he was. His ruts were no joke since he hit forty, knowing that his biology dictated he should’ve settled with a mate long before now. The problem was work always got in the way.
If it wasn’t sixteen hour filming days, it was every other weekend at conventions. If it wasn’t conventions, it was catching up on sleep; if it wasn’t sleep, it was an awards show, corporate event, or some other function he was obligated by contract to attend.
Jared had been lucky in finding his true mate on set, and Jensen always hoped the same fate might come to him, but so far, twelve seasons into the show, it hadn’t happened and his hope was starting to wain.
He couldn’t deny that he wanted what all his family and friends had. He was lonely—not that he liked to admit that out loud to many people. All that would achieve is a sudden string of blind dates that always ended in disaster.
The alarm on his phone went off with the reminder to buy a present for his nephew’s birthday, and when he registered the date, he frowned. Quickly, Jensen ran through the math in his head, and his frown deepened. He wasn’t due a rut for another week.
Then why was he so on edge?
“Mr. Ackles? They need you on set in five.” One of the PAs, Riley, he thinks, shouts through his trailer door.
“Alright, thanks,” Jensen calls back, trying to put it to the back of his mind for now. He had a job to do, and if Jensen was anything, he was a professional. He would never let personal issues bleed into his professional life.
Plus, they had a very important guest star for the next couple of months. Y/N Y/L/N had signed on for an eight-episode story arc, and everyone was excited. She was the most popular actress the network had ever had on their books. She was making waves in the acting world, and everyone knew it was only a matter of time before she moved to a bigger network or the big screen and began cashing in on prestigious award wins.
Not only that, but Jensen had a massive crush on the beautiful omega, and Dean would be having a really good time with her sassy, sexy character for the duration of her time here. He knew it was unlikely that she’d be his true mate, but maybe, if he played his cards right, she’d at least go on a date with him, and things might work out for them. Plenty of couples he knew weren’t true mates and life was great for them.
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“Can you smell that?” Y/N asked no one in particular in the hair and makeup trailer.
“Smell what?” Jared asked from the hair chair.
“Leather, and…” she turned her head and sniffed again. “Sandalwood. Mmm, whiskey.” She felt her cheeks heat up and a tingle in her belly that wasn’t wholly unfamiliar to her; neither was the scent she was detecting. It smelled like home. “Spearmint, too?”
Jared smirked through the mirror at Frida, the hair lady, and Y/N caught the grin on the makeup lady, Tanya’s, face. “What?” she asked. Tanya just shook her head, her grin getting wider.
“Come on, Tanya! There’s something you’re not telling me! What is it?” she whined and pouted playfully.
“Jeez, don’t give me that look!” Tanya laughed. “Damn it! Or those eyes!” she stepped away, laughing harder, when Y/N pulled out the big guns. “You know, Jared, Y/N’s puppy eyes are better than yours!”
Jared laughed and mumbled something that sounded a lot like: “Jensen’s gonna be in so much trouble!” as he looked over at the confused omega, who was still subtly sniffing the air with an adorable frown on her face.
“Is it getting hotter in here?” Y/N suddenly exclaimed. “My God, it’s hot,” she fanned herself with her script, feeling the heat rise from her toes upwards as if she’d just sat in a tub filled with water that was too hot. “Can we open the door or something?”
“Sure, I got it,” Frida said as she left Jared in the hair chair and opened the door to the trailer. “Jensen!” she gasped as she opened the door and saw the green-eyed actor reaching for the handle. “You scared me!” she giggled and stepped back, allowing the tall alpha to enter the trailer.
As soon as Jensen stepped inside, he stopped short, his green eyes blown wide and pupils dilating at the sight of his famous crush sitting in what was usually his makeup chair. She looked beautiful with her big doe eyes as wide as his and her hands fidgeting in her lap.
“Omega,” Jensen purred, momentarily shocked at how pathetic he sounded. Certainly not like the big, strong alpha he wanted to be for her, that’s for sure.
“Alpha,” Y/N whimpered in response, bowing her head as a sign of her submission to him.
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Jensen stepped out of his trailer and took a deep breath of fresh air, frowning at the scent he caught on the wind. It smelled like home. Like The Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden in the springtime, to be exact. Cherry blossom, lilac and honeysuckle all mixed in with a hint of lavender, making his mouth water. But that was impossible. Except for the lavender, those flowers only appeared in the spring or early summer. It was October.
He didn’t think they’d have flowers on set for any reason, but he supposed that didn’t mean someone didn’t get sent a bouquet or something. The smell of lilac was unmistakable to him; his mom had a huge lilac bush in her backyard, and he’d grown up with it. He’d know that smell a mile off.
Shaking his head to rid himself of thoughts of home, he continued towards the set. He was really excited to work with Y/N, and he hoped she was as sweet and kind as he’d always heard she was. Nothing was worse than having professional respect for someone, meeting them, and finding their personality or attitude lacking.
Jensen spotted Rich across the lot and walked towards him to welcome him. The kind beta was directing again, and Jensen wanted to greet him properly and make sure he knew where to go if he needed anything. Not that Rich needed the reminder, but Jensen was nothing if he wasn’t a gentleman.
“Hey man, good to see you again,” Jensen said as he greeted Rich with a hug.
“Looking good, Jensen. How are you doing?” Rich asked.
“Ah, you know,” Jensen said simply. Rich was one of the few people who knew how desperate he was to find a mate, settle down and have a few pups of his own instead of always being the fun uncle.
“She’s out there, Jay. And I have a feeling she’s closer than you think!” he smirked.
“Ha!” Jensen scoffed. “You sound like Jared! He’s convinced Y/N’ll turn out to be my true mate!” he chuckled.
“Hey, I get why he thinks that! I remember all those nights in your trailer or apartment, and if you saw her on screen, you just froze and stared at her until she was off camera again!” Rich laughed heartily.
“Well, she’s incredibly beautiful. And I’m no worse with her than when you see Scarlett Johansson or Jared was with Nina Dobrev!” Jensen laughed.
“True, but your eyes glaze over, and you get this stupid smile, and…” Rich trailed off at his friend’s head tilt and look of sheer concentration.
“Can you smell that?” Jensen asked.
“Smell what?” Rich asked.
“It’s like a spring garden or something. I smelled it earlier and can’t get it out of–” Jensen whipped his head around and began stalking towards the hair and makeup trailer. Rich followed him, staying a safe distance behind the prowling alpha.
The alpha stopped in front of the trailer door and sniffed, purring low in his throat at finally finding its source. Just as he raised his hand to pull on the handle, the door whipped open, and his senses were assaulted with the most delicious and delicate scent he’d witnessed in his whole life.
Jensen stepped into the trailer, his gaze fixed on his celebrity crush, and felt the air being sucked from him as her Y/E/C eyes met his green ones, wide and submissive. “Omega,” Jensen purred, momentarily shocked at how pathetic he sounded. Certainly not like the big, strong alpha he wanted to be for her, that’s for sure.
“Alpha,” Y/N whimpered in response, bowing her head as a sign of her submission to him.
“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Jared grinned, raising his hands at the older alpha, showing he was no threat to them. The two women showed the same respect to Y/N, raising their hands as they left the trailer.
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“I think Jay just found his true mate!” Jared grinned, pulling Rich into a hug.
“He’s gonna absolutely hate that you were right. I hope you know that!” Rich smirked.
“Hell yeah! And I’m never gonna let him forget it!”
Rich chuckled as he pulled the walkie from his belt. “We got a code 143; I repeat, a code 143 is in progress. All filming is suspended until further notice. Ladies and gentlemen, Jensen Ackles has met his true mate in none other than Y/N Y/L/N. Over and out,” Rich spoke through the device and smiled, high-fiving Jared when they heard the cheers erupt from all over the lot.
“Alright, I’ll start with the phone calls. Have you got the numbers for Y/N’s family? I’ll let them know she’ll be off grid for a few days at least,” Jared asked Rich, who handed him a sheet of paper with her emergency contacts listed.
“I’ll get some betas to keep the parameter clear from here back to his trailer. The last thing we need is another alpha getting too close to Y/N. Or an omega to Jensen, for that matter. Then I better call the Network and let them know their golden boy and girl are officially off the market!” Rich chuckled.
“They’re gonna love that!” Jared laughed.
It’d been suggested to Jensen before by numerous executives that he and Y/N should meet and see if there was a spark, but Jensen was stubborn and said if they were meant to meet, it’d happen naturally. Apparently, so was Y/N. They’d heard a few times that it was the same response she gave them whenever they asked her about it.
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Once the door was closed, Jensen stepped towards her and kneeled at her feet. “Do you want this, Y/N? Want me?” he asked shyly. Yes, they were true mates, but he had a few years on her, and she might not want to settle with an older man. She might not want to settle at all. Being in the prime of her career might mean she wasn’t ready to start a family yet.
“Yes, Jensen. I want this… want you, Alpha,” she purred, placing her hand on his cheek and smiling softly. The gasp of pained relief from the big, strong alpha broke her heart, and she wondered if he’d been let down as many times as she had in the past or if it was more.
“Can I… uh… can I scent you, Omega, please?” Jensen asked quietly, and Y/N giggled at his cuteness. She’d always hoped she’d have an alpha with a softer side, and it seemed like she got one.
“Yes, Alpha. I’m yours now,” she said softly.
“Not quite,” his fingers rubbed softly over her mating gland. “But I intend for you to be mine very soon,” he smiled softly before slowly leaning forward and nuzzling his nose into her neck. His hot breath against her sensitive skin made Y/N shiver, and her body erupted in goosebumps. The intimacy of the gesture was overwhelming, and she felt tears sting in her eyes.
Jensen whined as he got in closer and breathed her in. “You smell so good, Omega. And so beautiful,” he whispered to her, gently placing his hand on the back of her neck and pulling her closer still. Y/N tilted her head and rested her cheek on his shoulder, nuzzling her nose into his mating gland, her neck still open, and began to scent him in return.
Within seconds, an overwhelming sense of tranquillity and contentment at being exactly where he needed to be rushed over him, and he had no idea if it was coming from him, her or both of them. And it was the most elating feeling in the world.
“Sweetheart, I could sit her for hours and do this,” Jensen whispered, placing the softest of kisses on her neck between each word he spoke. “But I wanna take you somewhere more private if you’ll let me.”
“Okay,” Y/N answered, a whine escaping her throat as soon as he pulled away from her. Jensen chuckled at her pout, stood, held his hand out for her to take, and pulled her protectively into his side when she was on her feet.
“What hotel are you staying in?” Jensen asked.
“I’m not. I’m staying with a friend. Her apartment is just outside the city,” Y/N responded.
“My place is closer. Is that okay with you? I’d rather we have complete privacy, but if it would make you feel better, we can go to my trailer or the place you’re staying,” Jensen spoke softly.
“Let’s go to your place, Alpha,” she beamed brightly, chuckling when Jensen purred in approval of her answer.
Stepping out of the trailer, Jensen pulled Y/N into his body and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. The omega responded instantly, winding her arm around his waist and moving as close to him as their bodies allowed. The alpha smirked and puffed his chest with pride at hearing the wolf whistles from the crew, who’d gathered to wish the new couple well.
Jensen noticed his driver standing next to an SUV and headed straight towards him, determined to get them out of there as quickly as possible. He’d waited long enough for her and didn’t want to wait any longer. 
Helping Y/N into the car, Jensen quickly moved to the other side and climbed in beside her. He’d barely sat down when the omega slid over to his side and cosied up to him, burying her nose in his neck and scenting him contentedly. He purred, happy to finally have his omega in his arms, scenting her hair, allowing her aroma to mingle and settle in with his own, binding them together in a bond that would become unbreakable the instant he claimed her, which Jensen had every intention of doing before the sun came up.
“Forever starts now, Omega. You ready for it?” Jensen murmured into Y/N’s hair.
“I’ve never been more ready, Alpha.”
Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720
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In the Dead of Solstice Night (Pre Coming Home Oneshot)
Azriel x Reader
Hiiii! Merry Christmas, to all who celebrate it <3 I really wanted to get something out in time for Christmas (and while I'm finishing up the next part of Fireleaf), and I've had this in my drafts for a while.
This is a oneshot set in the Coming Home universe, before reader ever went travelling - a sort of reimagining, where something happens between Az and Y/N on Solstice night one year. Hope you enjoy!
Warnings: SMUT.
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The silence was stifling, considering the noise that had filled the Town House only a matter of hours before. 
The sounds of laughter, of talking, of the roaring fire — all of it had been swept away by the late hour and replaced by a peaceful quiet. The day of wonderful chaos should have made it easy for you to drift off to sleep — but there you were, laying in your bed, your eyes pinned wide on the ceiling. 
Down the hall, in their own respective bedrooms, Rhys, Mor, Cassian and Amren were already sleeping soundly, their bellies full of food and drink — or blood, in Amren’s case. Your fae hearing easily picked up on the sounds of their heavy breathing, the occasional rustle of the sheets if they tossed or turned in bed. 
And it made you all too aware of the fact that Azriel hadn’t ventured up to his own room. 
Not that you weren’t already hyper aware of his movements, fae hearing or no. 
The two of you had been the last ones left in the sitting room after everyone else had retired, talking until the embers of the fire were dying and even the faelights had begun to dim. And when you’d decided to turn in yourself, you’d bid Azriel goodnight and left him to bury his nose in the book you had bought him, his wings draped over the armchair he was curled up in. 
The hours had passed, and sleep had evaded you. You’d waited to hear the sounds of his feet climbing the stairs, the creak of his door opening, but—nothing. Maybe he’d fallen asleep reading. Or maybe he’d gone flying, as you knew he often did when he was too wired for rest.
Curiosity got the better of you. 
Before you could reason with yourself, you were slipping out of bed and shucking on a loose silk robe. You tried to be as silent as possible as you padded from the room and headed for the stairs. 
The rational part of your brain questioned why it even mattered to you that Azriel hadn’t retired to bed. He was just…your friend. Your older brother’s best friend. One of the few people who had been a constant in your life. 
But you’d undoubtedly been growing closer, nearing your twentieth year of life. You enjoyed his company — perhaps a bit more than anyone else’s — and you found yourself thinking about him, wondering what he was doing, in idle moments of quiet. 
Gods, you probably annoyed the hell out of him. He probably merely tolerated your clear attraction to him because he did care for you, because you were Rhys’s sister. Maybe he hadn’t stayed at the Town House at all, and had, in fact, wandered off into the night to get up to the Mother knew what. Maybe he’d secretly met with a lover you knew nothing about—
You stepped off the bottom stair, the heat of the fire still breathing through the sitting room and snaking out into the hallway. Through the gap in the door, you could just make out the dim winking of the faelights. And the dark figure hunched in the armchair, the shadows around him just as still. 
The bite of relief you felt was shameful. So he hadn’t wandered off for a secret rendezvous
Not that it was any of your business.
You gently pushed the door open, taking in the sight of his sleeping figure. His dark hair fell about his perfect face with his head angled back, the book you’d gifted him still open and pressed against his chest. His chest rose and fell steadily, gently. 
He looked so…peaceful. So rare, to see him so at ease, so vulnerable. Beautiful. Your heart thudded in your chest at the mere sight of him. 
You were almost as stealthy and as silent as him as you walked with careful steps, grabbing a thick throw from the back of the sofa and turning to him. Gently — as gently as you could, so as not to wake him — you eased the book from his hands. 
You’d barely turned to place it on the coffee table when one of those hands grabbed your wrist, and Azriel was shooting upright, going ramrod straight in the armchair. His eyes were blown wide, seeming to search for any potential threat, before they landed on you. 
“Hey,” You breathed, trying not to wince at the tight grip on your wrist. “It’s just me…”
Azriel blinked at you, his heavy breaths audible. It took him a moment to recognise his surroundings, to realise there was no danger — only then did his shoulders relax, his hand letting go of your wrist. 
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” You studied him cautiously. “I was just grabbing you a blanket…and putting your book down…”
Az rubbed his eyes, shifting in the armchair. He glanced at the blanket still in your hand. “Thank you. I didn’t—” He sat forward, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You slipped your hand behind your back. “No.”
“Let me see,” He reached for it, scarred fingers brushing yours. 
“Az, it’s fine—”
But he was already pulling your hand towards him, his eyes checking the delicate skin of your wrist for any indication that he’d been too rough. When he found no such thing, he seemed to relax even more. 
“Thank you—for the blanket.” He inclined his head, letting go of your hand. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep down here.”
“I figured—I mean…I was awake…and I didn’t hear you come upstairs. I was worried you were…cold.”
Gods, you wanted to kick yourself, to go running out of there and hide. It didn’t seem to matter how long you’d known him; speaking to Azriel, gazing at that gorgeous, chiselled face, turned you into a stumbling, stammering mess every time. 
He glanced up at you, his hazel eyes sweeping your face and meeting your gaze. You could feel yourself blushing underneath the intensity of his stare. You cleared your throat. 
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” You murmured, stepping back.
But he grabbed your wrist again. Gentler, this time. The touch feather-like, as though he was doing everything to tamp down on his own strength and be delicate with you. 
“Stay.”
You stared at him. Swallowed. Never…never had it been like this — whatever this was. He usually politely ignored your blushing, the way you stumbled and rambled like an idiot. Usually spoke to you like your clear attraction to him wasn’t a giant elephant in the room. 
But this — now — was different. Not in a way you could place a finger on. A strange tension shrouded the two of you, and it seemed to bring his shadows alive. You watched as they coiled around him and slowly reached out towards you. 
You blinked out of your thoughts. Tried to remember how to speak. “What.” Was all you blurted.
“Stay.” Azriel repeated quietly. “If you can’t sleep. We can talk.”
Oh. Oh. That was all this was. The two of you talked all the time, and he was just…thoughtful. Not wanting you to be alone while sleep was evading you, even though he’d been slumbering happily himself, moments before. Your thoughts ran away with you for a second there—
“I had fun at Rita’s the other night.” The words fell from your mouth unprompted.
Az’s lips twitched. “I noticed.”
Your cheeks burned with what felt like the heat of a thousand suns. Rhys finally relenting and letting you join the others for nights out in Velaris was a relatively new thing, and maybe you’d let a little too loose. Had a few too many drinks. 
“Was I embarrassing?” You grimaced. “That faerie wine is something else—”
“You weren’t embarrassing.” Azriel cut you off. “I liked it — watching you enjoy yourself.”
Your eyes flicked up to meet his. And his were…smouldering…fierce, as they bore into yours. A soft smile tugged at your lips. “I was hoping you would dance with me.”
“You weren’t short of offers. You didn’t need me wading in.”
“…You were the only one I wanted to dance with, though.”
Silence. Your candid admission was met with utter silence. Never had you been so…so forward. 
Your feelings for Az were undoubtedly blatant, but…they’d always been an elephant in the room. Something you tiptoed around and never openly acknowledged. 
Until now, clearly.
You met his eyes again. Found him just…staring. Staring deeply at you. He licked his lips and glanced down. 
“It’s late.” He said quietly. “We should both get to sleep.”
You pursed your lips, the dismissal stinging. “What happened to talking?”
“I think it’s best that we call it a night.” He swallowed. “Before we get ourselves into trouble.”
You frowned down at your hands. Trouble. Was that how he saw you? A fine line teetering on the edge of danger, of poor choices?
“I don’t see how we can get ourselves into trouble by talking.” You said. 
“You know what I’m talking about, Y/N. Get to bed before we forget ourselves—”
“I’m not a child, Azriel. I’m a grown female and I’m perfectly in control—”
“It’s not your control I’m worried about.”
You felt yourself falter. Go still. Because never…never had Az been forward like this. Not that you knew what he was saying, exactly. Your mind was more muddled than it ever had been. But it sounded a hell of a lot like…like maybe he—
“Just go to bed. Please.” He gritted out, his voice gravelly. “Before you say anything else that puts everything at risk.”
He must have read the hurt that stung your eyes. Perhaps that was why he lowered his gaze, refused to meet yours. And why he still didn’t look up as you rose to your feet. 
“Fine.” You rasped, pulling your thin robe around you. Suddenly, you felt colder than ever. “I’ll go to bed. I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t.”
His response wasn’t a comfort. Nothing could stop the way your face burned and your eyes pricked with tears — tears of pure humiliation — as you strode to the door. 
But some slither of candour still remained inside you as you turned at the threshold, wanting — needing — to get rid of the truth in your mind. Your eyes landed on Azriel again. He hadn’t moved. 
“You know…” You said quietly. “One of those males I was dancing with asked me to go home with him tonight.”
The fact that you caught the slight shift of his body told you just how unguarded he currently was. He was usually impossible to get a read on, even after years and years of trying. But right then — in that moment — you glimpsed it. It was subtle, but…there. 
He seemed to correct himself as he bit out, “Well, perhaps you should have — gone home with him.”
A laugh void entirely of humour left your lips. And though the sensible thing would have been to leave the room and return to bed, before this — whatever this was — got out of hand…you shut the door, instead. Pressed your back against it as you faced him once more. 
“Is that what would make you feel so much better, Az? Is it what you want? For me to go around sleeping with any male who offers to buy me a dri—”
Your words died in your throat as he launched himself from his seat. With ridiculously big strides, he was in front of you in seconds, his hands slamming too loudly against the door, either side of your head.
“What I want,” he hissed, “is to strip you bare and fuck you until you’re hoarse.”
The slightest stagger of a breath escaped your lips, but that was about all you could manage. His body was so close to yours, so easy to reach out and touch—
“What I wanted,” he continued through gritted teeth, “was to march over to that male you were dancing with in Rita’s and rip his damn hands off. That is why I didn’t dance with you. Because I know what I fucking want, and it wouldn’t have stopped at just a dance.”
“No,” you breathed, “it wouldn’t have done.”
It was perhaps the boldest move you’d ever, ever made as you reached a hand up. You pulled Az’s head down towards yours, and pushing up on the tips of your toes, you pressed your lips together. 
The kiss you gave him was hungry — the kiss you’d thought about giving him for years and years. One that communicated everything you wanted him to know. That you saw him, wanted him, loved him. That you weren’t some fragile little thing for him to dance around. 
There was a split second before a growl was ripping from the depths of his chest. And then he was kissing you back, his hand coming up to tangle within the strands of your hair. He tipped your head back just slightly, his tongue teasing the seam of your mouth. 
“These fucking lips,” he groaned against you. “You have no idea how much I think about them.”
His words had you weak at the knees. “You like my lips?”
“Far more than is sensible.”
“Then why,” you kissed him quick, yanking him against you, “have you never kissed them before?”
He stopped. Held you still as he pulled back — not by much. Just enough to stare down at you. His eyes flickered down to your lips and then back up to meet yours. His tongue swiped over his mouth like he was lapping up the taste of you.
“You’re Rhys’s sister.” He said gruffly. “…But you’re also every single one of my fantasies.”
And fuck if those words didn’t set you on fire. You swallowed, staring up at him. You wanted to show him…to make him see just how much he was every one of your fantasies. 
How much you thought about this. Him. 
You maintained eye contact with him as you grabbed his hand, moving it to your breast. He swallowed hard, his eyes dipping down.
But you didn’t allow him to hover there. Still holding onto his hand, you dragged it down. Down your stomach. Down until it reached the hem of your nightdress. 
His fingers brushed the material, his eyes fluttering shut. It was the only barrier between him and your wetness. No underwear. Nothing to stop him brushing—
Those deft, brilliant fingers dipped beneath your nightgown, and you lifted your hips towards him. Until his hand was at the apex of your thighs. 
“Gods,” he whispered, “you’re soaked.”
“Yes.” You breathed. “This is what you do to me, Az. And I’d much prefer your hand to my own.”
Your words seemed to send a shudder through his body, and he hissed between his teeth as the pads of his fingers found your wetness. He cupped his hand over your sex, slicking himself with your juices. A gasp fell from your throat.
“Is this what you want?” Azriel asked you, his thumb inching up to rest on your clit. “There?”
You hissed, hips jerking, and Az smirked. But there was no chance for you to breathe another word — or another sound — as he dipped his head and lowered his mouth to yours once more.
His kiss was firm, bruising, as his thumb began slow, indolent circles on your clit, made all the more delicious by the scrape of his calluses. You heard yourself whimper against his lips, felt him smile at the sound. 
He broke the kiss, teeth grazing your lips. “And what else do you want?” 
The slight pressure he applied had your hips bucking again. “You,” you gasped. “Your fingers. You. Inside me.”
“Fuck, Y/N.”
His hazel eyes flared, and never had you seen them so burning, so vibrant, like your words awoke something in him. And his fingers…gods, his fingers were more skilled than you could ever have imagined. He’d done no more than rub at your clit, and already your legs were trembling. You grabbed his arm, steadying yourself.
“Please,” you pulled his head down to meet yours again. “I want you.”
With a growl, he was all over you, his lips clashing against yours as he slipped a finger inside you. The moan that escaped you was lost immediately in the huff of your heavy breathing, mingling and twining with his.
“If we do this,” Az breathed, pumping his finger, “there’s no going back.”
“Good.”
That was what you wanted. Him, in every which way possible. Against the door or the wall, or on the sofa or the floor, upstairs or downstairs—
Az seemed to read those very thoughts on your face, and with an animalistic noise that had you clenching around his fingers, he pulled his hand from between your legs and hoisted you up into his arms, locking you tightly around him.
He didn’t stumble with you far, tucking his wings in and perching you on the back of the sofa. He slotted himself between your thighs. And went still. Stared down at you.
“Y/N, I—” He cut himself off, swallowing. “I want — need — to know that you’re sure about this. This could change a lot….”
You’d spent so many years wanting him, craving him. Thinking about him and watching him. Knowing that he discreetly took lovers. Knowing that he was probably keenly aware of your feelings this whole time. The fact that he was even questioning your certainty seemed ludicrous…
And yet, it made your heart flip and thud. Because it was Az all over — caring and attentive. Loving. Always, always good.
You met his gaze. Raised one hand to cup his cheek. And used the other hand to reach for the buttons of his trousers. 
“I’ve never been more sure about anything.” You whispered, fingering the top button. “I’ve wanted you, Azriel, for a very, very long time.”
His eyes fell down to watch your fingers, and you could have sworn you heard his heart picking up and thudding. Heard a shuddered breath slip past his lips. 
And then he was kissing you once more. Soft. Slow. His hands gently rubbing your arms. He left enough space between you for you to undo every button. And you did.
And then you were shoving those trousers down to the floor. Watching his cock spring free. You found yourself gulping at the mere sight of him. 
All those jesting speculations you’d heard about wingspan correlating with the size of other body parts. It didn’t seem much like speculation to you. Az was thick…long…hard.
You wanted every inch of him inside you.
Slowly, you wrapped a hand around his cock — or tried to. Az hissed between his teeth, his eyes not once looking away. His hips jerked as you began to languidly pump his shaft, your thumb circling the head and mopping up the small pool of moisture that had gathered there.
“Gods,” Azriel choked. “No—no games.”
You hummed, trilling a soft laugh. “No?”
“No—I want to be inside you.”
You smirked, dipping your head. Your lips were inches from his cock as you flicked your eyes up to meet his. But he made no move to stop you. He merely watched, his chest heaving, as you poked your tongue out and swirled it around the head
He grunted, hips bucking. He seemed to be using every bit of his willpower not to thrust right into your mouth. No matter how much you wanted him to—
“No games,” he repeated, gently threading his fingers in your hair. “Wicked little thing.”
“You don’t want—”
“I want,” he pulled you up, kissing you quick, “you. I want you.”
Words you’d waited so, so long to hear, and they were as much of a song as you’d fantasised. For years. In the dead of night, with your hand between your legs. Or sometimes at sadder moments, when you’d cried and considered the possibility that Az would never, ever say such things to you. 
And yet here he was. Saying them. Sending a shiver coursing through you.
He cupped your face in both his hands, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. And he was so gentle, so tender. There was nothing but pure adoration in the delicate way he handled you.
Az took the reins from there, ruching your nightgown up around your waist. He kissed you again and again and again. As he hoisted your legs up around him. As he grabbed his cock in his hand and dragged it through your folds, slicking himself up with your wetness and giving a few slow strokes to your clit. 
As he aligned himself with your entrance and pushed in. 
Just the tip. Even that stretched you, had a bite of pain pinching you that was strangely pleasurable and had you gasping against Az’s mouth. His hips stilled, and he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. 
“Want me to stop?” He whispered.
“No.” You immediately shook your head. “No. Keep going.”
A soft smile tugged at his lips, and he cupped the back of your head, threading his fingers within your hair. His lips found yours again as he pushed in a little further.
Stilled. 
Pain and pleasure. Pleasure and pain. It was heady and wonderful, and you didn’t know whether you wanted to kiss him or cry his name or touch him all over, all at once. 
A little further. He pulled out to the tip, pushing in again. Again.
He took his time allowing you to adjust. Allowing that pinch of pain to shift into full-fledged pleasure. And when finally — finally — he was pushed in to the hilt, he tore his mouth from yours and gazed at you.
The gaze was…gentle. Loving. Open. And you were more grateful for that than he could ever imagine. That he was willing to be open with you. Willing to bare himself like you were baring yourself.
And then he pulled out to the tip once more. And truly began to thrust. 
“You don’t even know,” Azriel gasped, hips rolling, “how much I think about you. How much I try not to. You’re always there — on my mind.”
You did know. Gods, you did. Az had been consuming you since you’d been capable of harbouring such feelings. He was everything. Absolutely everything—
“Gods, you feel so good around me.” He groaned. His rough hands grabbed at your hips, hoisting you up. 
The two of you were frenzied and unstoppable as he pounded into you, and it took every bit of control you possessed to keep your voices down, to maintain your moans and noises in hushed tones. 
But Az inside of you was like nothing else you’d ever felt. And as his thrusts picked up, his hips moving faster, harder, you became him and he became you. One unit of nothing but unbridled elation and pleasure.
You pulled him flush against you, your nails grazing his wings, and you felt his hips falter, his face burying the crook of your neck. You heard him whimper, the chanted “gods, gods, gods” as he slammed into you and reached between you to rub at your clit. 
You lost it, then, release an unforgiving force barrelling through every single part of your body. Your head fell back, and a cry tore through your throat that Az smothered with a hand, cupping his palm over your mouth as his thrusts, somehow, picked up even more.
“I can’t—” He choked, slamming his other hand against the sofa to steady himself. “Oh gods.”
That was all the warning you got before he thrust three more times, hard, fast, his skin slapping yours, before his hips staggered. And then he was coming deep inside you, huffing breathless moans and noises into your neck. 
He collapsed against you, and you held him, utterly spent and utterly blissful. There was something soothing in the heavy rise and fall of his chest against you – like you and he were the only two people left in the world. All other sounds and images and smells had melted away, and it was just you. You and Azriel. The way you had dreamed it one day would be.
You were surprised to find a tear rolling down your cheek as you cradled Az’s head to your neck, your eyes screwed shut and your fingers stroking his hair. He was everything to you; a ray of light amongst so many horrors. A reminder that there was still beauty in the world.
And maybe – you hoped – you could be that for him.
“I love you, Az.” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I love you.”
Azriel’s body went still, rigid against you. His head jerked up, hazel eyes blown wide and meeting yours. He was undoubtedly a sight, with his tousled hair and flushed cheeks, his swollen lips.
He blinked at you, those swollen lips parting. “...What did you say?”
“I–”
But there was no chance for you to repeat the admission.
Not as the door flew open.
Az jerked away from you, yanking his trousers up. And you had the sense, somewhere in your roaring mind, to shimmy your nightgown back down.
It was all entirely pointless, though. If the sight of you both didn’t immediately give away what you’d just been doing, the smell of sex in the air certainly did.
And Cassian knew that, as he stood in the doorway, his hair mussed from sleep and just a low-waisted pair of lounge trousers hanging on his hips.
He stared between you and Az. Took in the sight of you both. Azriel cleared his throat, fastening the buttons on his trousers. Ran a hand through his hair for a good measure. You could practically feel the panic rolling off of him in waves.
But Cassian’s lips kicked into a smirk. He glanced between you once more.
“Well.” He snickered. “It would seem the two of you have had a happy Solstice, indeed.”
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charlewiss-writes · 1 year
Text
paper rings / mick schumacher
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day 28: rings (part of one-word november prompts!)
world count: 1.7k
summary: the four times mick jokes or talks about proposing, and the one time he finally does.
authors note: this took me awhile! had a lot going on between finals and I got too into the wc lmao but here it is! i think it's cute and it's the longest I've written! inspiration from certain dialogues comes from here, although I tried to make it special somehow. hope you like it! <3
loosely inspired by
I
being the new kid at school was never something good. after moving and changing schools too many times due to your dad's job, you had grown to notice that children were cruel when somebody new entered class. especially now, being 14 years old, it seemed like everyone had their close circle, and there wasn't a chance that they would let you into their small bubble. thankfully, for the first time ever, you weren't the only new kid in town. a tall, blonde boy with a thick german accent was called by the teacher to stand up and introduce himself to the class. that's how your learned that his name was mick. fast forward a few months, you two grew closer, drawn together because you were the new kids that didn't quite fit in.
one cold morning, while you two were sitting on a bench together, watching the other kids run around during recess, you noticed that your blue-eyed friend was quieter than normal, like he was thinking about something. "what is it, mick?" you asked, gently nudging his side to get his attention. "just thinking about things" he replied, straight to the point. he normally wasn't too talkative, but you two used to exchange a few words during the break, even if you were the one talking and he just answering to you. you decided that if he wanted to tell you, he would eventually, so you dropped it.
"ever thought of getting married to someone?" he said, seemingly out of nowhere, when the bell indicating that the recess was over ringed. you shrugged, never really giving the topic much thought, even though you were currently immersed in reading books that were all about love and happy endings. you never considered that's how life could go for you too. you asked mick, a bit confused this time "who would I get married to?". his cheeks went red in an instant after hearing your question, and his blue, beautiful eyes were fixated on the floor while you two walked back to the classroom, side by side, only connected by the shy touch of small hands brushing against eachother. "i don't know, maybe a friend?".
II
at sixteen, it seemed to you that everyone had already met the love of their life. at first, you didn't mind it, but when the girls you hanged on with at school started to forget about you, too wrapped up in their teenage flings, you were done with it. poor mick, always the listener, found himself the receiver of every complain you could have about boys and your failed love life. every boy you seemed to like always ended up being an asshole, and the blonde boy warned you everytime, but you wouldn't listen.
"i'm so sick of this, why is it so complicated? i won't ever marry, end of story. i'ill end up alone forever" you had concluded, after being too disappointed due to yearly school ball that was ocurring tonight but you refused to go, given that you didn't have anyone to ask you to go. "I wouldn't mind being married to you" mick, almost too soft for you to pick up, had said. you smirked and jokingly replied, always diminishing his efforts, telling yourself he didn't really meant it, but that he said it anyways to make you feel better. "obviously, I'm a catch."
he grunted, mad that you weren't taking his sayings as truthful. "i'm serious, y/n" he told you again, now looking into your eyes. "so am i, mick".
III
you never quite like big parties. and you never would have agreed to go to the one you were invited to now, if it was up to you. but mick, sweet boy mick, couldn't say no when corinna invited you to celebrate new years with them after some months without really staying in touch with your best friend. you thought that it was for the best: having recently discovered about your feelings towards the german boy, and being sure that it wasn't mutual, you decided that staying away would help the feelings disappear. but apparently, whatever "absence makes the heart grow fonder" shit they said was true, or so you learned to agree on, since you couldn't remember a day where you didn't want to talk to him and go back to the way things where before
"it's the sixth one you try on, y/n. everything looks great on you anyways" the boy said, seated on the sofa that the store provided for those who weren't trying on clothes. even if you didn't detect any frustrations in his voice, she apologized for how long the seemingly easy task was taking her. "that isn't true, mick. i'm sorry for being annoying, should have brought gina with me."you quipped. mick frowned as he heard you favouring his sister over him, and quickly replied "hey, no, you're not annoying. i didn't mean for it to sound like that." you smiled at his fast reaction, careful to not get into your bad side knowing how quick you could get mad. still, you were in a playful mode, and continued with the banter, even if there was a bit of truth in your statement. "i don't know how you put up with me, honestly." you sincerely hugged him, absorbing his heat and perfume.
"maybe it is because I've been hopelessly in love with you since we were kids."
you broke the hug when you heard what he said, trying to hide the goosebumps that appears in your skin, and the effect his grazing breath had on you. almost as if it was second nature to you, you put on the joking mask, again, afraid to let him see the hopeful look in your eyes that, maybe, just maybe, he felt the same for you. "ha! that was a good one, schumacher. almost had me going with that serious expression." you signaled to his face, jaw locked and confused eyes. "forgot i can read you like a book."
IV
after getting tired of seeing how every partner you had never lived up to what you deserved, your best friend -until then- had decided that he had to step up. that's how you two had end up together, just as your two families always talked about. at first, you were quite afraid that, after all these years as friends, becoming something more would damage the relationship you already had, but gladly it surprised you for the better: mick and you worked well together, easily passing from friends to partners. after finishing school you started to work in a garden center, and now aged twenty and with some help from your family, you were thinking about opening your own shop. the only thing stopping you was the fact that you still couldn't figure how you would name it.
"why not using your last name?" the blonde boy suggested, while walking through the rows of plants that almost engulfed him. you huffed, already considering that idea due to it being a family business, but not quite liking how it sounded. "not everybody has a cool last name like you, schumacher" you joked, and the blonde boy smiled at you, slowly making his way towards you to hug you from behind. "you could have it too if you wanted" he advised, whispering in your ear. it sent chills down your spine. "y/n schumacher, sounds cool, doesn't it?" mick said, with a confident smile painted in his lips. your cheeks reddened at the idea of sharing his last name. it wasn't the first time you two had talked about marriage, and even when you agreed it was still too soon, just thinking about sharing his last name left you feeling warm inside. so, you did what you always do best: deflect with humor. "can you just ask me to marry you like a normal person?".
V
it was another rainy day at home, and due to the boredness creeping in your bones since you had woken up far too early and couldn't go back to sleep, you had resolved to spend your time scrolling on tiktok. at least until it was an acceptable time to start making breakfast, or until mick woke up. whatever happens first, you thought. but after a few minutes laying still, only paying attention to the media displaying in your phone, you ran across a crafting video of some sort, that taught how to do paper rings. being the absolute biggest fan of taylor swift on planet earth, you couldn't contain the excitement of trying it out, so you slowly left your boyfriend's arms to go look for the required things.
"why did you woke up so early?" the croaky voice of your boyfriend due to the sleepiness still towering over him startled you, not expecting him to wake up so soon after your departure. "i'm sorry, love." you replied, pouting, and standing up from the table to hug him, hiding in his chest. "did i woke you up?"
his full, pink lips warmed your heart when you heard what he said. "no, i just missed you", followed by an eye rub to dissipate the sleep that remained. you grabbed his hand, and rushed him to join you at the counter where you were working at. "i just came across a video and wanted to try it out. look, i made you a paper ring" you said, grinning like a child who just got gifted what she asked for christmas. mick reciprocated your energy, seating beside you while asking "can you teach me how to do one?".
after teaching him how to fold the paper correctly and endure multiple paper cuts, you left him alone to continue the task while you went to make tea since the weather outside continued to be awful and grey. too focused on the task at hand, you didn't hear when mick stood up and got on one knee, until he reached for you waist, saying "liebling, can you turn around please?".
your breath got stuck instantly when you turned to face him, as the tears came crashing down your face. being together since you had turned twenty, now aged twenty-two, and having known him your whole life, it clicked instantly that this was how it was meant to be: you two, together, at home, without shiny things but filled with endless amount of love from both sides. "will you marry me?" he finally said, with tears brimming from his clear blue eyes.
"about time you'd ask, schumacher".
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