#also he paid for my ice cream without me knowing which was so sweet

[arcadefloorvibes]

I don't have a title that I do for this anymore so uhhh

Hiya this is the text post, I am about to give a full rundown on how my partner and I have started dating because

my blog my house

I haven't been able to talk about this in depth with anyone except my siblings who do not care for the amount I am about to type and

my partner follows me on tumblr so kinda can't without it being blantantly obvious its about them (hi)

So this is going to be fun for me because i get to talk about this and this is going to be fun for my partner who pretty much got the summary of this

Quick thing: Partner will be referred to as Partner due to the fact I'm pretty sure his name isn't on here but I assume I will be told after this and Partner goes by He/they so I will be swapping

And now the readmore :D this is like a week and a half of chaos with additional 8 or so weeks before so we're back at it again with the long relationship posts nothing has changed

So to start this all off, you're going to need a bit more context on the mess that was us getting together.

We met through our dnd group, so immediately we're nerds off the bat and then became closer friends after we found out we both catch the same train from the same stop to go to dnd

We're also both very physically affectionate, which did make it difficult to work out whether we liked each other platonically or not later, but we'd hug and talk for an hour each way on the train

My partner is also an affectionate drunk and so within the first week or so of playing dnd, there were sweet messages in the group chat.

Somewhere along the line, more personalised messages go into my dms and eventually my email because I just thought "yea that makes sense"

About two or three weeks into dnd, we both decide to meet up in the city and go shopping because he knew manga stores and I didnt.

The shopping trip was fun! We got manga, I showed them the underground bookstore, we got ice cream (that i paid for, this will become important later) and at this point we'd been out for about 4 hours.

I, normally go shopping with my 3 younger brothers and therefore use "We" a lot. This does not work when you are no longer with your siblings

So being the genius that I am the checkout conversation goes as usual

"Do you need a bag?" "Oh no thanks, we've got one" (gestures to Partner)

And the SECOND we are out of the store, they just go "she probably thinks we're together" and 'Im already internally screaming at my social blunder so i just say "Yea we seem to get that a lot"

Then on the bus home the conversation turns to "if you ever need a fake boyfriend let me know because I'd do a great job at that"

And so it becomes a running joke that when we're out together, we look like a couple, because we kinda did, the hugs, they'd hold my hands when they were cold (highly unromantically mind you) and then the looks we'd get kept the bit running

Then during other conversations throughout the 2 months we knew each other, we had literally said we don't know if these feelings are platonic or romantic because we weren't used to it, but then the other would neither confirm nor deny, there was also a pickup line bit he did for a while and also pointing out that "its like the universe wants us to be together" with the amount of coincidences

Then came the second Monday of August, Partner had just gotten SIGNIFICANTLY fucked up on drinks and was not doing great, i don't remember much of the day but i do remember being very worried so i wrote at like 12 am a really long email about how important they were to me, it took me about half hour to write it

And then i open discord, and there's a message from him at 12:03 that basically read

Hey, i love you but like yknow in a friend way (idk discuss with sober me)

...yknow. after i just sent a massive email about how much I love them.

So i figured we're going to talk about this at some point, so i should just think about it! Yknow! Imagine a universe where we're together!

And i did

And I really liked it

And alllllllllll the denial I'd had over that past few months just for a little bit disappeared

So i did not sleep well that night, understandably, and i wake up the next morning to read what was basically:

Haha drunk me is fun to read, no need to discuss lol

...once again. Not confirming or denying.

And I'm just like okay I'll go back to thinking about you platonically and it just didn't work it just straight up didn't work because it just felt like the same denial I'd had previously

It is Tuesday now, I have early morning classes, so i went to class, i overthought, i denied and i tried so hard to get myself to like another guy in my class that i thought was cute but all i could find was more reasons to like Partner

So i get home after having what is essentially a 17 hour day and I get on call with my friends and we're just doing the usual of watching Doctor Who while screaming at our 3d program and I don't remember a lot of how we got to the point we did but we had cameras on, I had mine on but turned off so I couldn't see myself.

This part is fun because apparently Partner doesn't remember this but!

It was just a small thing of looking at everyone and one of our friends points out that you could see me in Partner's monitor but just like in the corner because of how the camera was angled and i reacted with "Ack!" Which prompted:

Partner: Whats wrong with you being on screen?

Me: I dont like looking at myself

Partner: Why? Youre beautiful

Me: ...Thank you...

And so they just tilt the camera away so i can't see myself and good news, my camera cant pick up my blushing but im just kind of losing it a little

I dont use "beautiful" for myself, its not a word that I think applies to me. Theres "cool" and "handsome" and "cute" and occasionally "pretty" but I've never liked when I was called beautiful growing up

And in that small moment, i really really liked the word, i still like hearing the word from them honestly, still don't think it really applies but sometimes i see it

At the time, this was NOT HELPING, especially paired with the coincidence of that day's wordle being "Lover" i was maybe going insane

Wednesday the ASMR bit starts.

Me and the asmr bit had a complicated relationship, on one hand its very nice, on the other hand i was trying to deny and this was also NOT HELPING. The asmr was basically compliments and the occasional ara ara

Thursday i make a playlist to try and focus on literally anything and i write down all my feelings out of hope that on the train the next day i would be fine

I get my hugs on the train, i get my random headscritches, we go shopping, i buy us cream puffs, they mention this is like a date, i dont confirm or deny, there's a small moment on the tram with a hug and a "haha wouldn't it be funny if you did the anime thing of falling on me?", and then because we have time we go op shopping

I got to learn a lot more about Partner's fashion tastes (alt) and i get to talk about mine (punk) and I'm talking about how i want a suit jacket but none ever fit me and as i say that they pull out one that looks my size

And like the fucking genius that i am im like "okay hold these for a sec" and i give them my bags while i try on the jacket

"I'm doing the boyfriend hold thing right now lol"

And I looked at them and just for a second I considered confirming and then i didnt and just did a neutral "yea my bad..."

And then I said "we" at the register again and I did acknowledge that to which the response was "At this point, it's probably easier if we just started dating, there's so many signs the universe keeps giving"

My response was "yea..." but in a way that didn't confirm or deny

Friday was my birthday, my body decided to just keep filling with adrenaline every time I thought about them, I had a few shots of vodka and accidentally told my siblings what happened

Saturday and Sunday I kept thinking about it at work and overthinking and rethinking

Monday I was on call talking the whole time, the asmr bit continues, the feelings don't go away, a conversation doesn't happen, its like everything is the same as always. There's talk of black lipstick and eyeshadow, the nerves get stronger

Tuesday was when I thought maybe they actually liked me back, there were "I love you"s, I was kind of flirting back maybe idk, and I decided that these feelings weren't going to go away and I should at least ask to work out if this is platonic or romantic or otherwise I will go insane

Wednesday I'm just thinking about what to say and nothing is working because even writing this now i still cant predict anything they say so i made up about 20 or so different ways of asking, the black lipstick couldn't be found and so i was a little more safe

Thursday. Thursday was planned to meet up early since their bus arrives earlier than i do so i walk up to the train station, playlist on loop, rehearsing and rehearsing and i get there to watch them arrive on the bus.

I like that image in my head, the fact that we both saw each other and waved, the massive smiles and oh my god the eyeshadow was giving me a heartattack. I have like 4 selfies of the eyeshadow now and it still gets me

We talk like always, I'm trying not to stare, I'm trying to form the words but every time i think I've got them the silence stops. We get on the train, the hug occurs and the week before I'd initiated a handhold so i was just there talking and thinking and terrified of fucking this up but it would've been worse if i left it.

4 stops until we get off and a silence stays long enough for me to at least try

Me: Okay so I told myself i was going to say something because otherwise it would get worse and this is really embarrassing but I'm going to try Partner: Okay...? A sigh and a breath Me: so you remember the message you sent on Monday? Partner: oh... yeah i do... Me: well i figured... we should talk about that...

And i explain a much shorter rendition of that Monday and veryyyy slowly his ears go red and it starts to spread:

Me: so like I'm fine with either, i just need to know what we're doing Partner: I wish i could give you an answer but I don't know either

That was not in the script so we just kind of sat and thought, doing the kind of shocked laugh thing and I'm just observing reactions while trying to think of what to say, I'm watching them fight their own denial in real-time

So i just said "I'm going to explain my past week and a half and if see if that helps"

And i explain pretty much all of that above and extra things, giving them a bit of time to process after each thing, noticing the denial again and kept going because all I could think was if I was going to get an answer I wanted one where we were being honest.

After explaining all that, and telling him to stop apologising and me apologising for dropping this all at once since they'd gone totally red and were shaking a bit, I let the silence sit for a while, 2 stops to go, before i said "Fuck it, I'm going to hold your hand properly and you can tell me how that goes"

And we both really liked it, and we held hands the rest of the trip and i initiated more hand holding as we walked around the train station. I then had to go to class but we planned to take the train home together, normally we didn't do that

So we got donuts and held hands again, I got the asmr bit irl so I did lose a lot of the control I'd had earlier in the day as now I was the red one

And that's it! that's how we started dating!

As of publishing this, our first date and week together is tomorrow and it's been incredible so far and they already know how much they mean to me because I keep saying it and I'm going to talk as much about my partner as possible because why not and also I know for an absolute fact they'll read this so

I love you, you're amazing, we're so bad at this, I hope we can keep trying until we get it right and I will keep writing until I can't write anymore

And that concludes the post! ah! I have a partner! the progress of the past few years is insane and I'm learning so much about myself while I'm at uni and if I've grown this much in one trimester I'm so excited to see what the next 3 years bring

And final note: this post is 2.4k words :D

#arcade speaks #chaos tag

[astrxlfinale]

"Is it illegal to eat ice cream now? Geese. You nameless really know how to be a bunch of party poopers." And March 6th put the spoon back in her mouth, letting out an all too pleased hum…before getting another spoonful. It was so tasty.

Afterwards she stood up from her seat and letting out a small 'hmph'. Arms crossed while glaring at him, as it was clear that the girl was going to remain here. Despite that it was clear that everyone else in the ice cream parlor was either hurriedly leaving or just had uneasy eyes on the Stellaron Hunter and Caelus (who hadn't even paid for her ice cream).

"You shouldn't be mean to cute girls, you know? I'm trying to enjoy a well-deserved break." Never mind that she had also literally moved in front of him in the line when ordering earlier.

Being wrenched into this entire fiasco has been anything but mean. All that swelled within the back of his mind was an ill feeling, that scratching thought of the instincts that knew they were practically sitting on a landmine in this now abandoned parlor. His expression is initially speechless, only for that clench of the teeth and the turbulence of disbelief to prompt him to shove up from his seat. "I'm the issue here?! Say that to the people who wound up packing up like we're space invaders here!"

..And that very well may be the truth for both cases, depending on which side and faction you ask about their infamy.

"Don't say that like I've been the one spoiling a vacation we planned together! The hell kinda idea you're tryin' to give folks here!? They are horrified." He enunciates, drifting a finger towards that door still shivering shut behind them.

This all had to be some elaborate prank, did it? The more the Trailblazer angles the pieces within his mind, from March 6th's demands for an impromptu ice cream outing, too ensuring that the world know he sucks at dating. (Which they're not!) All in the name of desiring more of that lofty sweetness nearly made him want to pull his hair out. "And that goes without saying what'cha scraped up from my eager hands! That ultimate vanillocolate swirl! I had built at least half my day around finally seizing that! But lo and behold!" He notes, taking another new spoon as a portion of that cup was snagged.

There's a devilish precision in his timing as he'd await for those pretty lips to part, only to ensure the newest morsel of her sins was immediately slotted between them. "This is what you took from me! Practically prancing to your seat.. the one by me, mind you, as if to go and rub this in my face!"

Moments after he'd lean in, to ensure that Ms.March 6th could feel that very glare that damned every moment she got to savor this. For despite his misgivings, it felt.. hard, hard to go and relinquish what was something so godly. Between the two of them, it felt as if it befell Caelus's shoulders in order to harbor better morals.

"There. Ain't my mean card incinerated now? I made sure you got a sweet ol' spoonful I was just dying to have myself."

@the-lytenye-realms

#the-lytenye-realms #| Shuttle Mail #>:( #Bet she's going all 'TEE HEE' at the idea of them #Mere moments away from getting in trouble

[milkiane]

broken promises

pairings: fred weasley x reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of war, death eaters, mentions of death, mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, mentions of an angry padfoot, tiny fluff, and most importantly: angst angst angst

word count: 7498 ;-)

note: i hope you have the box of kleenex and a tub of ice cream i asked you to bring, because shit’s about to get real !!

how does one narrate a well-structured story when your life has been an absolute mess? well, i guess you could start from the night you met him.

take me back to the night we met.

it was rather unusual to see an upcoming sixth year amongst the flock of first years. you were studying at hogwarts for the first time, and you were quite glad that your dad, also known as the infamous sirius black, finally let you move in with him in 12 grimmauld place, as he claimed to finally have his life together.

you were formerly from the states. moving in with your aunt (a cousin of your father’s), and studying in ilvermorny as soon as you turned 11, explaining the prominent american accent amongst the british ones.

as soon as the sorting hat decided which house you would be in, professor mcgonagall, an elderly witch in long green robes and a pointed hat, told you to meet her at the deputy headmistress’s office after the feast.

you wished that you'd asked where the office was because now you were getting lost within the numerous hallways, stairs, and rooms of hogwarts. you knew how huge this school was, but you didn’t expect it to be too enormous to get lost in.

you were currently passing by a hallway full of paintings who were having an animated chat with one another. you let yourself smile softly, admiring the magic between the hallways. some of them greeted you, which you gladly returned.

you were about to take a turn in the hallway to your left when someone suddenly yelled, “hey, wait, no!”

“wha-?” but you were too late, as soon as you stepped foot in that corridor, you were immediately drenched in orange and purple slime.

too shocked to move, you stood there frozen. the guy who yelled, stood frozen as well, grimacing as you carefully wiped the slime off your face.

fred closed his eyes in mortification, expecting you to be mad. he anticipated yelling or scolding, and maybe even if you considered beating him to the pulp. when it didn’t come, he peeked an eye out open to see you levitating the slime off your body, and before he even knew it, he, too, was drenched in slime.

you laughed, and he swore he never heard anything so angelic until he got a fleeting speck of it. he didn’t even mind the slime dripping off him when he finally got to see a proper look at you. if he was going to be honest, he never really paid attention to the sorting ceremony. he and george have been talking about all the pranks they’re planning to pull, so this was the first time he caught the sight of you, and oh sweet baby merlin, he thought, you were stunning.

he snapped out of his trance when you decided to speak up, “so, is this some sort of welcoming tradition for the new-comers?”

“oh, only for the ravishing ones,” he smirked, giving himself a mental pat on the back for immediately coming up with the witty one-liner.

you rolled your eyes, fixing your brand new y/h robes. fred looked at you with curiosity, “what are you doing here, anyway? students don’t normally roam around here, most especially newbies. that’s why i waited for good ol’ filch whereas george was grabbing the dung bombs,” realizing that you probably had no idea who filch or george was, he stopped talking, giving you some room to talk.

“ah, well-”

“miss black! there you are, i had to question a few students and paintings about your whereabouts. th—“ she stopped speaking, glancing at the redhead behind me, “mr. weasley! what- what is the meaning of this? why are you drenched in goop?”

fred grinned, sending a wink your way, “that’s my cue! see ya ‘round, gorgeous. oh, and you, too, minnie!”

you and the deputy headmistress stared at his retreating figure with amusement. professor mcgonagall led you to her office and let you choose from the various optional classes and introduced you to a student who’ll give you a tour around the obsolete castle.

our friendship will never die, you're gonna see it's our destiny.

it has been two days since that fateful night when you met a certain redhead. you were trying to recall the directions towards the charms classroom when someone ran past you, harshly bumping your shoulder, and consequently making you drop your things. a distant yelp from behind you was heard, “oi! george, you prat!”

“godric, ’m sorry, didn’t notice you,” he said, picking up your fallen books and pouch of quills and ink. you looked up and recognized the fiery red hair and deep brown eyes.

“y’know, i should really anticipate the day when we’ll run into each other without you dousing me in slime or bumping into me when you're running away from someone,” you laughed, taking the books from him as you stood up with your pouch in hand.

“what d'you mean?” he tilted his head, evident confusion occupying his face.

you observed him, seeing if this is some kind of joke that he was playing. when you’ve seen no mischief swimming in his eyes or a smirk, you knew he was serious.

“oh, come on, weasley. i don’t reckon getting drenched in slime would be effortlessly forgettable,” you asked.

“i remember you, just not when you were, erm, drenched in slime. i saw you at the sorting ceremony. padfoot's daughter, yeah?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. he rummaged through his head for where he could’ve possibly seen you. he felt bad that he didn’t know what you were talking about.

you sort of thought you left an impression. well, seeing as you were a victim in one of his pranks. “well, yeah, that, too, but i was talking about when i was in a hallway you claimed was deserted? then professor mcgonagall found us? no?”

he frowned, but just as his lips turned downwards, he started chuckling. weird.

“what’s so funny?”

“we haven’t particularly met.”

“what d’you mean? i’m rather sure that i wasn’t dreaming when that happened,”

he laughed, running a hand through his hair, “don’t worry, you weren’t,”

you were confused, to say the least, but then another voice from behind you spoke up, “that’s because it was me who you met that crucial night, goop,”

you looked up at him just in time as he swung an arm around your shoulder. you looked back between the guy who bumped into you and the guy who drenched you in slime.

back and forth.

forth and back.

red hair. red hair.

twin. twin.

“oh. OH!” you exclaimed, “twins! oh, merlin, this is embarrassing,” you laughed sheepishly. of course, that just had to happen.

they both laughed along with you. fred removed his hold on you and stood beside his twin, “yes, twins.”

george chuckled, offering you his hand to shake, “‘m george weasley, the bloke who drenched you in slime’s twin, and i sure won’t be forgetting about you now.”

i chuckled, shaking your head, “would you two be so nice and show me the way to charms? ‘ve got a few more minutes before classes start,”

“‘course, we’ve got nothing better to do than escort a pretty girl to her class, anyway,” fred, at least you thought it was fred, winked at you, making you huff amusingly.

the three of you walked together towards the desired destination as they, too, had charms, when curiosity got the best of you and asked, “hey george?”

he looked down at you, blame the evident height differences. “yeah?”

“why were you even running away a while ago?”

his eyes widened and fred smirked, taking his frozen state as an opportunity to smack his head, “tosspot left me with snape when he caught us, he got to run away whilst i got a weeks worth of detention,”

you snorted, “first rule of pranking is you don’t get caught, and here i thought you two were experts,”

“oh we are, darling! snape’s just timed well-- greasy prat’s been waiting for the chance to punish us.”

“well, if you’d let me, i’d be willing to be an apprentice for this little mischievous escapade of yours,” you offered, smiling as they both looked at each other with compelled looks.

“alright, freddie? reckon this is a start of a revolutionary friendship,”

“a start of a revolutionary friendship, indeed, georgie.”

“well, now that we’ve established our apprenticeship, ‘tis lovely to meet you both, i’m y/n black.” you smiled, taking each of their hands. they grinned mischievously, “glad to have you with us, miss black,” and before you knew it, they dragged you to the classroom by your arms.

each night i ask the stars up above, why must i be a teenager in love?

“you fancy him, don’t you?” you shifted your gaze away from fred and glanced at george, who was looking at you with a pointed look.

you knew that you could trust george, he’s your best friend, and you are his. you knew that he wouldn’t tell a soul, even fred, despite him being his twin.

you sighed, “yeah, yeah, i do,”

he nodded, a thoughtful look on his face, “do you ever plan on telling him?”

“no. it’s obvious that he doesn’t like me back. he sees me as his best friend and i certainly don’t want to ruin our dynamics, george.” you whispered as you saw fred making his way towards the both of you.

“what’re the two of you whispering about?” fred whispered, moving his head in between you and george.

you smiled, “fred. but don’t tell him that! we don’t want to feed his egotistical attitude if he ever finds out,”

“oh? well, why’re you talking about,” he looks at his surroundings as if he didn’t want anyone to hear, “fred?”

“we were debating whether he’s the most handsome twin, or if it’s george.”

“and who’d you say?”

“george, of course,”

fred gasped dramatically, earning a harsh glare from madam pince, “you wound me, woman! how could i possibly live with the betrayal?”

you giggled silently, scared that madam pince might consider giving you her wrath, “sit down, you wanker, madam pince might kick us out again.”

“are you actually scared of the librarian?” george chuckled.

you look at him with wide eyes, “how’re you not? if looks could kill, she’d give he who must not be named a run for his money!”

“SHHH!” speak of the devil. you cowered away in between the twins as they made fun of you.

“it isn’t funny!” you whispered, tilting your head so your hair curtained your face.

“i don’t know, goop, it’s quite hilarious,” george continued snickering. ‘goop’ has been their nickname for you ever since your first encounter with fred, it was supposed to be a one-time thing, the nickname, but they sort of just stuck with it.

fred cooed, “aww, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours, i’ll— georgie and i will protect you from pince’s frenzy,”

you rolled your eyes trying to express irritation, but the smile on your lips have betrayed you. you were about to respond when you’ve been interrupted by a couple of giggling second-year girls.

the three of you snapped your heads towards them, confused.

“s’there anything you’d like to share, ladies?” fred asked, wiggling his eyebrows, making them giggle more. you and george shared a glance and smiled.

the three of them looked at you, making you dumbfounded, “is he your boyfriend?”

your eyes widened in surprise, but you decided to play along and joke, “which one?”

they giggled, pointing at fred.

you both looked at each other with raised eyebrows and small smiles.

“yes.”

“no.”

you looked at each other once more, you with a mix of stun and disbelief, fred had a huge grin on his face. and george? george just rolled his eyes, displeased with the obliviousness of his best friend and twin who clearly got the hots for each other.

“we’d make such a cute couple, no?” fred asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

you looked at the girls and gave them a wink, “hmm, i don’t know… i’m not particularly fond of having ginger babies.” they giggled. gee, what was wrong with them and giggling?

he rolled his eyes and leaned forward, gesturing for the second years to come closer. fred smiled at them and whispered, “i’m not her boyfriend, i’m her husband,” they gasped, grabbing your attention, you tried to make out what he was saying but to no avail.

“yeah, we’re married, and now you better start calling her mrs. weasley whenever you see her, yeah?” fred grinned mischievously before leaning back to his chair. you looked at him in suspicion, but he paid you no mind as he opened up a book that you both know he won’t read.

you shook your head, checking your watch for the time, “i better get going, i promised to help hermione with differentiating runes,” you kissed the cheek of both boys, but lingering a bit with fred. when you pulled back, you waved at the girls.

they giddily waved back and said, “goodbye! see you around, mrs. weasley!”

you stopped in your tracks, slowly turning around to glare at the sniggering twins. you scoffed, turning back around and leaving the library, avoiding the gaze of the frightening librarian. as soon as you were out of sight, you let out a chuckle, feeling your cheeks heat up.

fred watched you gradually get smaller as you left the library. he would be lying if he said that he didn’t wish to be in a relationship with you, but he didn’t want to make a move— afraid that you’ll reject him and your friendship would be broken. he adores your friendship too much to risk it.

george watched as his brother stared at your retreating figure with love and longing. he shooed away the girls so that he could talk to him without any disturbances.

he repeated the question he asked you moments before fred arrived, “you fancy her, don’t you?”

he snapped his gaze to his brother, eyes wide and brows raised, “huh?”

“y/n. d’you fancy her?” he repeated, this time facing his parchment to continue writing the order forms.

“why? do you?”

“no. now, answer my question.”

fred sighed, “i’m head over heels for her, georgie,”

george just smiled at his brother, mentally counting all the galleons he’ll be able to receive within the month— he knew you’d get together sooner or later, but george definitely wished it‘d be sooner because he doesn’t really fancy losing tons of galleons.

we used to steal your parents' liquor, and climb to the roof. talk about our future, like we had a clue.

after weeks of pining after each other, and a very satisfied (and a few galleons richer) george later, you can finally say that fredrick gideon weasley was now your boyfriend. all you had to do now is to tell your father.

the weasleys were staying over at 12 grimmauld place for the holidays, much to yours and fred’s pleasure.

the ‘adults’ (they still didn’t want you and the twins to join despite your age legality) were still having the meeting and it was quite late. you just had to wait till everyone was sound asleep before sneaking out of your room and wait for fred in the lounge.

once you’ve heard the satisfying shut of each door, you quietly tiptoed around your room with your fluffy socks on, determined not to wake ginny and hermione up.

once you opened the door, you were met with the sound of another door opening. you froze, hastily thinking of some sort of excuse as to why you were still awake.

you didn’t see nor hear any signs of movement so you peeked your head a bit, and saw fred doing the same. you quietly giggled, carefully shutting the door as you made your way to fred.

“hi goop, missed you,” fred mumbled, fuzzing his head in the crook of your neck.

you laughed silently, “fred, we just saw each other three hours ago.”

“i know, but that was too long. it felt like forever,” he smiled, “now, c’mon, we need to celebrate,”

“celebrate? for what?”

“for successfully sneaking out, of course,” he said, steering you around the house, hand in hand. “now, d’you reckon your dad has a stash of fire whiskey somewhere?”

you hummed, removing the hold of his hand and rummaged through the kitchen's cupboards, “aha! there y’are,”

fred turned his gaze towards you as you shook the whiskey in his face, “let’s go,”

he grabbed the shot glasses and a blanket that was laying around in the couch before letting you drag him away.

“c’mon, freddie,” you whispered, slowly opening the attic ladder, hoping that kreacher was nowhere to be seen.

you both went in, careful not to step on any creaking floorboards. when you reached the window you opened it and handed the whiskey to fred, “give me a minute,”

“be careful!” he exclaimed, nervously watching you climb over the ledge.

“always am,” you winked before raising yourself and onto the roof, “give me that and climb,”

fred did so, and as soon as the both of you were up there, he threw the thick blanket over the both of you, and cuddled with each other.

a couple of shots later, the both of you were giggling, talking about all the pranks you’ve managed to pull through the years you’ve been in hogwarts. the laughter soon died down and the sounds of breathing, the wind, and the engines of the muggle vehicles were the only things that were heard.

“do… do you ever think about the future?” fred asked. you stared at him, he wasn’t looking at you though, he was gazing at the twinkling stars up above.

“yeah… they mostly contain you, though,” you whispered, placing your head on his chest as he pulled you closer.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“me, too,” he smiled, kissing your forehead.

you sat up and kissed his nose, “c’mon, red, reckon we’ve had too much to drink,”

the both of you packed up everything you’ve used, carefully made your way down, kept the firewhiskey, and washed the glasses. too tired and drunk to go to bed, the both of you retired on the couch, sleeping in each other’s arms.

as soon as the sun crept up through the window blinds, you groaned, rubbing your eyes to get rid of the sleep. once you’ve gotten used to the blinding light, you looked up and smiled at your sleeping redhead.

you slowly slipped out of his grasp, kissed his forehead, and walked towards the drawers to look for painkillers. you haven’t even drunk that much.

fred woke up a little while later after feeling the warmth of your body heat disappear, he yawned quietly, taking in his surroundings and remembered what happened last night. he was quite giddy, to say the least. he has been after hearing that you thought of having a future with him.

he stood up and saw you at the kitchens, drinking a glass of water. he made his way towards you and slipped his arms around you, hugging from behind.

“g’morning, love,” his morning voice still never fails to make you flustered.

“morning, freddie,” you smiled. he moved around you and grabbed a cup of water for himself. as soon as he made sure his morning breath was out of the way, he smiled at you, “it’s nice that your voice was the first thing i heard today.”

he leaned against the counter as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

fred gladly complied, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. you slowly bit his bottom lip, emitting a low groan from him.

sirius just woke up and was desperately in need of a cup of black coffee, no pun intended, he chuckled. he grabbed his hair brush from his vanity, brushing his tousled hair as he silently went down, careful not to wake anyone up.

as soon as he entered the kitchen, he was met with the sight of the weasley boy groping his daughter’s arse. his hand stopped mid-brush.

“get your hands off my daughter, weasley!” he growled, making his way towards the poor bloke.

the both of you immediately jumped away from each other, eyes wide. this isn’t how he’s supposed to find out!

fred was scared shitless, if he might say, so he carefully backed away as sirius approached him like a predator.

fred ran. yes, ran. and sirius? he chased him around the kitchen with his hair brush in hand.

“‘m sorry, sirius, don’t kill me,”

“how dare you come into my house and snog my daughter!”

“no, sirius, ‘m sorry!”

“then you strut around and grope her arse like that,”

“sirius! said ‘m sorry, put the hair brush down!”

“didn’t molly teach you any manners?!”

“she did, she did, she’s a wonderful mother. sirius, no!”

in other times, you would’ve stopped the chaos whilst sirius, who was still in his dog-printed pajamas, chased a very pale fred around the kitchen with a hair brush.

but you didn’t, so you were laughing your arse off. you wouldn’t want to miss the chance to laugh your arse out with what’s happening. you knew your dad was a sweetheart, he wouldn’t actually kill fred, right? … right?

soon, every member of the order and the children, frantically went down with their wands drawn out, looking around for trouble, but they, instead of seeing any death-eater related attacks, saw a very angry padfoot manhunting a 6’3 ginger twin with a harmless hair brush, and a wheezing y/n.

“mum, hide me! he’s gonna murder me with a brush!” fred immediately took cover behind his mother. she and the other adults sighed exasperatedly but smiling nonetheless.

“thought someone was getting tortured with how freddie was screaming bloody murder,” george snickered.

“get out here and face me like a man, fredrick!” sirius growled, but stopped a bit and asked, “or is it george?”

fred cowered away behind his mum, “george, george! ‘tis definitely ‘im!”

george’s eyes widened and yelped, “‘m george! he’s fred!”

“dad! stop that, fred and i are dating,” you said, wiping your tears away.

sirius was taken aback, lowering his weapon, “what?”

“we were supposed to tell you today, but i guess you were just too eager,” you teased him, making your way towards fred and intertwining your hands together. fred looked slightly hesitant but smiled sheepishly at your father.

sirius just squinted his eyes at fred, racking over the tall redhead, “you better watch your behavior, boy, or you might as well just sleep with an eye open.”

you knew your dad loved fred, he’s been asking about him the moment you’ve told him about your blooming friendship and the pranking adventures you have had. he admires the bloke, fred reminds him of his younger self, minus the playboy endeavors and the family issues. he approves of the boy, but that doesn’t mean he fancies waking up to him snogging his daughter.

sirius slowly approached fred, opening his arms for a hug, but fred flinched, making everyone laugh. when he realized what sirius was trying to do, he laughed nervously, hugging him back and awkwardly patting his back. he was about to pull away when sirius tugged him back in and whispered, “i’m serious, fred. one wrong move, and i’ll be damned to be back in azkaban,”

fred shuddered slightly, but nodded nonetheless, “i’ll never hurt her, sirius, she means the world to me.” he smiled, both of them looking at you as you laughed with george and remus, retelling them what happened.

i don't promise a lot, but i'm keeping my word.

it has been at least a year and a few months since your father has passed, and fred has been with you through it all. you were spending your holidays at the burrow with the rest of the weasleys (plus harry, remus, and tonks).

you were currently in the living room, gossiping about boys (well, you were talking about fred) and the latest scandals in hogwarts with ginny.

“gin, i mean, have you seen the way harry’s been looking at you during dinner?” you asked, watching as her face grew red.

“he has not! ‘m convinced that you inhaled too much of fred’s perfume to be talking ‘bout something as poxy as that, y/n.” she laughed, fiddling with her sleeping robes.

“can you blame me? he smells so good. now, don’t tell me you haven’t had a sniff of thou chosen one’s essence?” you giggled, “c’mon gin! the both of you are meant to be, you’re soulmates, a stubborn one, at that.”

“we’re not, y/n! you and fred’re the proper definition of soulmates,”

you smiled softly, “it’ll take time, ginny. i can see the way he looks at you, it’s the same way i look at your brother,”

she sighed, “let’s just hope you’re right,”

“i’m always right,” you joked, waving at fred as he made his way towards the both of you.

“what’re my lovely girlfriend and sister talking about?” he smiled, kissing your cheek.

“soulmates,” ginny shrugged, looking away from harry.

“soulmates? what a load of bollocks,” fred’s face twisted in disgust, before whispering in your ear, “we’re definitely soulmates though,”

your face started to heat up and you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face, “yeah?”

“yeah,” he pecked your lips, throwing an arm around your shoulder and turning to ginny, “yeah!”

“i reckon he’ll marry you on the spot if he can,” she rolled her eyes, smiling as well since she heard what fred said.

“oh i would’ve done it the moment she drenched me in slime, but it has to be special, y’know?” he said, peppering your face with kisses, “flowers, confetti, diamond ring, grand gestures, all that sort.”

“freddie, i’ll marry you even if you propose with a toy ring,” you beamed up at him, kissing his nose, “because i’ll love you forever and always.”

“i’ll love you forever and always, too, goop,” he said, looking at you with pure love and adoration, “and that’s a promise.”

i'll say, "will you marry me?", i swear that i will mean it.

and fred did mean it as you’ve been together for four years now and counting.

“we’re in this together, goop,” he said, which leads to where you are now, fighting off the death eaters and co, side-by-side.

“stupefy!” you shouted, knocking off the death eater charging towards percy.

“thanks,” he breathed out, you nodded, “no problem.”

“incendio!”

“ascendio!”

“incarcerous!”

“stupefy!”

“petrificus totalus!”

you saw fred and percy handling a group of death eaters beside you as you finished off one, but what edged you off was one of them raised their wand, but it wasn’t pointing at any one of you. it was pointing at something behind you, you looked back just in time as he yelled the spell.

“fred!” you pushed him, mustering up all your strength to bring you along as the wall from behind you collapsed.

you coughed, “stupefy!” successfully throwing back the man.

you detach yourself from fred, “fred, fred?” you patted his cheeks, he was still breathing.

“c’mon darling, you have to wake up,” you cried, looking up for a bit as percy kept the remaining death eaters distracted.

“marry me,” fred whispered

you let out a breath of relief as you looked down, “w-what?” you wiped off the dust in his face.

“marry me,” he said more clearly, slowly sitting up to cup your face.

you slapped his arm, “you could’ve gotten yourself killed, you numpty!”

“but… i didn’t?” he yelped, rubbing his arm to soothe the pain, “not the answer that i was expecting but, alright,”

“marry me, y/n,” he kneeled down on one knee, grasping your hands, “i know that this isn’t exactly the proposal i’ve had in mind, hell, i don’t even have the ring, but i love you ‘till the ends of the earth and i’m asking you once again, y/n black. will you do the honors of being my future wife?”

you cried, nodding your head as you didn’t trust yourself to speak up. you pulled him in a hug as you sobbed against your shoulder, “i love you, too, fred, forever and always,”

he kissed you, he kissed you like it was the last thing he’ll ever get to do.

“erm, guys, i’m terribly happy for the both of you, and i hate to say this but we’re in the middle of a war!” percy warned.

“c’mon, goop, we’ve got a war to win,” fred kissed you one last time before the both of you ran off to help percy.

and i realized, no, we're not promised tomorrow.

they said that a couple’s wedding day is bound to be the best day of their lives. a new chapter to write. a new door to open. a new voyage to venture. tons of possibilities.

you were standing in front of a length-view mirror, admiring yourself in the reflection. you were wearing the wedding dress of your dreams, your hair was styled into a sophisticated up-do, and your makeup was elegant.

“hey, sis-in-law, you ready?” george peeked his head through the door, “wow, i-”

“hi george,” you smiled, wiping off the tears gathering in your eyes, “oh, merlin,”

“freddie’s gonna go bonkers,” he hugged you, pulling back to admire you once again, “c’mon.”

you and fred granted george to be his best man and the one who’ll walk you across the aisle, and for the first time in your six years of friendship, you swore you never saw him hug you so tight with tears in his eyes.

as soon as you arrived in front of the closed archway, george stopped to look at you, “you sure you don’t want to back out, goop? fred farts in his sleep sometimes. ‘ve got the keys of the flying ford anglia in case you ever need an escape plan,” he joked.

you giggled, “i think i can handle a farting fred, georgie. i’ve been your best friend for too long, you’ll never know how much i’ve been through,”

he chuckled, “if that’s the case, then let’s go get you and loverboy officially married,”

as soon as the door’s been opened, you suck in a breath, awestruck with how the decorations were perfect— all thanks to molly’s orders and hermione’s organizing, guests in their assigned seats, and most especially, your husband-to-be clad in a black and white tuxedo, tears gathering in his eyes. everything was so magical.

you were expecting that today would be the happiest day of your life, you were expecting to exchange your detailed vows with fred, you were expecting for the long-awaited “i do’s”, you were expecting to seal the deal with a kiss, you were expecting to have a wedding ring as an eternal promise displayed on your left ring finger, you were expecting to listen to george’s embarrassing stories of you newlyweds, you were expecting to start your future with fred.

what you didn’t expect though? was that as soon as george gave you away, as soon as you were standing in front of him, fred apologized and ran away, tugging at his tie.

your smile disappeared.

the guests gasped, turning their attention to you as ron and arthur chased after him. tears started to pool in your eyes, releasing a shaky breath. you hardly noticed that the guests were anticipating your reaction or that the weasleys were ushering them into the venue where the reception was supposed to be. you were just staring at the place where fred once stood, expecting him to come back and say that it was all a prank.

but he didn’t, and that’s what broke you the most.

you collapsed on the floor, sobbing on george’s shoulder as he whispered some comforting words.

you’ve waited, and waited, and waited.

you sat on the step board, still in your wedding dress, tear-stained face, and messy hair. george offered some company, just sitting beside you as you stayed silent, rubbing your back soothingly as the guests bid you goodbye with sad smiles.

george was mad. no, that was an understatement, he was fuming. he knew how much fred loved you. he knew all the plans he had in store for the both of you. he knew all the words fred will say in his vows. what changed?

as soon as everyone had cleared out, you refused to leave from where you were. you refused the food they gave you, or the clothes to change into. you were positive that fred would come back. he promised.

“c’mon, y/n, please, let’s just get you home,” george said, offering you his hand.

“no, i-i’ll stay, george,” you said, your voice cracking, “i’ll wait for him, he’ll come back. he can never do this to me, he wouldn’t.”

but you were wrong. he never came back. he broke his promise.

by the time the clock struck 7, george have had enough of your stubbornness. he understood how you felt, of course, but he didn’t want his best friend to wait all night for someone he knew wouldn’t come back.

so the both of you walked, he shrugged off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. you didn’t want to come back to the burrow, but you had to pick up your godson and be on your way. you didn’t see fred there either. you ignored everyone and all their pitying stares. you didn’t even hug molly back when she wanted to comfort you.

you just carefully detached yourself from her, grabbed your godson, and went out. you and george were walking in silence as he carried the boy, walking the both of you towards the apparition point.

george sighed, he knew he wouldn’t be seeing you for a while, and he wanted to give you some space, so brought the sleeping kid to your hold and kissed your forehead, “owl me whenever you need me, yeah?”

you forced a sad smile, “thanks georgie, i’ll see you around,” and apparated away to 12 grimmauld place.

you said you'll grow old with me.

“uncle georgie!!” teddy, your godson, immediately abandoned his coloring book and leaped in the arms of george.

“hey, little man!” he laughed, watching as teddy’s hair turned into the same shade of red as his. it always happens ever since he decided that george was his favorite uncle (don’t tell harry!), and he’ll never change it to his original hair color until the next day.

you smiled, placing your cup of coffee down to greet your best friend, “hey, george,” you kissed his cheek.

“‘m just checkin’ in, how’re the both of you?” he asked, ruffling teddy’s red hair.

“good! mum—“ he stopped, “erm, i mean, auntie y/n will finally bring me to di-gonley later!”

your heart stopped for a moment when he called you ‘mum’. this hasn’t been the first time that it happened, he usually gets too preoccupied to notice, but you never mentioned it nor talked to him about it as he still missed his biological mother. “it’s diagon alley, lovey, and yes, we’ll be leaving in a few,”

you walked away from them and grabbed your purse, “go ask uncle georgie if he wants to come join.”

he beamed, grabbing george’s hands, “can you please come with us, uncle georgie? please, please, please?”

george sent him a faux look of contemplation, “hmm, i don’t know, teddy. d’you think auntie y/n will buy us some ice cream?”

teddy gasped, and wobbled his way to you, “auntie y/n! will you buy us some ice cream? uncle georgie said he’ll join if you do!”

you playfully glared at george, making him chuckle, before returning your gaze to teddy lupin, whose face was now in what you’ll describe as his, ‘i’m-a-very-adorable-boy-please-give-in’.

“oh, alright, let uncle georgie help you wear your shoes,”

as soon as the three of you were good to go, you floo’ed your way to diagon alley. you never apparated when you were with teddy, he usually gets sick when you do, so you had to fixate a floo network in your muggle flat. it was an incredible hassle, especially with muggle neighbors. you had to use multiple silencing spells while the wizards in charge were doing it.

it’s been a while since you’ve been to diagon alley, you’ve avoided it at all costs, especially after… that … anyways, teddy has been seriously adamant on going ever since george told him all about it and his shop.

you knew that you couldn’t fend it (and him) off forever, so after mustering up every courage you had, you agreed. you reckon that it was worth it, seeing your godson, the boy who made your life full of hope and happiness again, incredibly bubbly and cheerful, it eased your nerves a bit.

fred knew that his twin was off to go somewhere. george always tells him, but he never mentions where he’s going or who he’s meeting, just that he had places to be. so to busy himself, he went to florean fortescue’s ice cream parlor to cool off.

while waiting for your order of three cones of ice cream, george offered to bring teddy to flourish and bott’s since he knew how much teddy loves coloring books and bedtime storybooks.

once fred passed by the street, he opened the entrance with a satisfying ring of the welcoming bell. he breathed in the sweet smell of the countless flavors of ice cream. he scanned through the shop for a place to sit when it suddenly stopped at the sight of a familiar h/c. he froze, no, it couldn’t be, right?

“three servings of ice cream supreme for y/n!” the man hollered.

no…

you stood up and made your way towards the front, and fred had gotten a glimpse of you. you looked gorgeous, you always were, fred thought. you were using a hairband, something you used to despise as it always hurt the back of your ears, doing its job to keep your hair away from your face.

you took your order just in time to see your companions for the day, oblivious to the stare of another certain ginger.

“mum! uncle georgie bought me a new book! ‘tis about dragons!” a tiny redhead exclaimed with glee.

fred felt his heart drop, ‘mum’? ‘uncle georgie’? red hair…? again, it couldn’t be, right?

“edward remus! lower your voice, darling,” you chuckled, setting your ice creams down on your table.

“oops, sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, covering his mouth.

before you could even reply, a voice from behind you has spoken up, “erm, y/n?”

your breath hitched in your throat. “no,” you whispered.

george grimaced, grabbing your ice creams and a very confused teddy’s hand, “we’ll be at the shop if you want to leave,” he whispered to you before leaving the both of you alone (minus the parlor’s customers and employees).

you frowned, following them out, and steered away from your ex-fiancé.

“y/n, wait!” fred followed you out and grabbed your hand.

you whipped around to face him, pulling your hand away from his hold, tears pooling in your eyes, “what do you want, fred?”

“was that your kid?” he asked casually, trying to hide his nervousness.

“no- he’s teddy, lupin and tonks’ kid, i’m his godmother. he forgets that i’m not his biological mum sometimes, and if you were wondering why his hair was red, it’s because he loves george.” you said, “now, ‘m gonna ask you again, fred, what. do. you. want?”

“i- i just wanted to talk,” he mumbled, looking down at his shiny shoes to refrain from looking at your crestfallen expression.

“seriously, fred? you want to talk?” you scoffed in disbelief, “alright, let’s talk, let’s talk about how you left me, let’s talk about how you broke your promise, let’s talk about how you broke me,”

fred winced at your wavering voice, “‘m sorry, darling,”

“are you really, fred? because- because it’s been almost two years and you—“ you sighed, wiping away your tears to no avail, it’s still falling. instead, you asked him the question that’s been on your mind ever since, “why did you leave me?”

“i was scared,” he started, cracking his knuckles. a mannerism of his when he’s feeling anxious.

“scared of what exactly?” you urged, determined to know what he was so afraid of that he had to run away on your wedding day.

“of you…” he mumbled, looking up at you. he wished he hadn’t because he didn’t know it was possible for you to look even broken than before.

“me?” your voice cracked, “so it’s my fault, now?”

fred shook his head, getting frustrated at himself, “no, no. i was scared that, if you married me, you’d get hurt because i might not live up to your expectations.”

“bullshit, fred!” you cried, earning a few looks from the bystanders, you didn’t care, and nor did fred, “why? don’t you think i’m getting hurt right now?”

fred felt his tears in his eyes, “i’ve had so many doubts, so many questions, y/n,” you were about to reply when he raised hand, “and no, it wasn’t about you, just please, listen,”

he sucked in a breath, “y/n, what if i said yes?”

“we would’ve been happy, we wouldn’t be here in the first place,” you whimpered, feeling the heartbreak you’ve once experienced over and over again, “did you even really love me?”

“i did, i still do, but you deserve so much better than me, y/n” fred whispered, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you again.

you shook your head, “stop lying, fred."

“no, y/n! what if i said yes and i wouldn’t be able to keep my vows?”

“well, fred, you didn’t even get to marry me and you already broke the promise! now, tell me, did that answer your questions?” you asked, “did it, fred?”

fred let a tear fall, “no, no it didn’t. it just made me realize how hard it was to lose you,”

you sniffled, staring up at the sky to keep the tears in bay, “i loved you, fred! i loved you and you left me. i loved you… and i still do, and i hate myself for it because no matter how hard i try to convince myself that i’ve moved on, i haven’t. fred, i still look for you in everyone in hopes that i could somehow get some closure… and it doesn’t help that i see you in everything as well; i remember you when i see a plate of pancakes, knowing how you love them with chocolate, i remember you when it rains because we used to dance around in it like there’s no one around. it hurts, freddie. it hurts because i see you everywhere because we used to do everything together.”

“and i regret it, alright? i regret letting you go. it has been eating me alive ever since. i couldn’t function well without you,” he whispered, “and all i’m asking is for forgiveness, y/n.”

you just stared at him, hiccuping as you continued to cry. you wanted to leap into his warm embrace and forgive him. you wanted to take him back. you wanted to kiss him. you just wanted to be in his arms again. you just wanted to be with him again.

but he hurt you. he hurt you in many ways you’ve never expected. he broke you. the same guy who swore to your father that he’ll never hurt you. the same guy who promised to marry you and spend the rest of your life with.

fred saw the hesitation and hurt in your eyes so he sighed, “i’m sorry, goop. i’m sorry for being such a coward. i was never ready to say goodbye… i never was,” he took one last glance at you before leaving you once again.

you sobbed as you watched his figure retreat slowly. you didn’t care if there were people looking at you with concern and pity. you didn’t care if someone had accidentally bumped into you. your mind was too busy with the thoughts of fred, so you apparated back into your flat, trusting george to take care of teddy for a while.

fred’s heart broke even more as he heard your distant sob. he let the tears gathered in his eyes fall. all he wanted to do was to bring you in his arms and shower you with his love, make up for all the lost time, but he knew that he deserved the pain. he deserved it because he hurt you, he broke you, and he can never forgive himself for that.

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#kleenex and ice cream time #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred #weasley #fredrick gideon weasley #fred x you #fred x y/n #fred x reader #fred weasley angst #fred weasley one shot #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfiction #brb crying #angst #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader angst #fred weasley x reader fluff #useramourtentiaa

[0littlestwolf0]

We Could Be

Yandere! Isaac Lahey

Ship: Yan!Isaac Lahey x Reader

Warnings: Slight obsessive behavior, mentioned domestic abuse.

Requested by: @flower-slut00

Notes: You can expect a Yan!Tom Riddle and Yan!Newt post soon!

It was already eight and you were sure you’d freeze to death before he arrived. For all you knew he wasn’t coming, the mere idea made you bite your inner cheek.

He’d said 5:30 but he was nowhere to be seen and at this rate you would finish the English project all by yourself. But you knew Isaac was a good guy, he should be somewhere near, right?

Well, in all truth you didn’t really had an idea of how this Isaac boy was, you could barely remember a mass of blonde curls that would only stay in a corner, never calling much attention to himself, but you knew he got good grades, at least good enough, even if he’d get mad when they weren’t excelling.

You felt in heaven with as much as a B- but if he ever got a similar grade he’d beg the corresponding teacher to grade it again, you never understood him, but you never paid much mind to his actions either, at least not until the teacher had looked you dead in the eye and paired you with him.

You had at least thought that he’d have the decency to appear on time. You started mentally preparing yourself to start the project on your own, maybe you’d make a pretty diagram and draw the images Isaac was meant to bring.

A sigh of relief left you as soon as you heard a knock on the door, at least the pizza had arrived on time. You jumped to your feet and started walking to the desk near the door where you kept the money.

Opening the door mixed feelings filled you, at first glance you saw the blonde curls and thought about reprimanding him for being so late when he’d been tha one to choose the best hour for both of your schedules.

And then you saw his black eye and bloody cheekbone.

“Get in” you made space through the door for him to come in. You thought he’d gotten in a fight. You were wrong.

Without asking questions you signaled for him to sit on the couch you were previously occupying as you went to the kitchen, hoping that there would be some frozen stuff for him to put on his eye.

But there wasn’t much to use, only some ice cream and ice cubes. You could hear him getting his stuff ready to work, and you make the decision to get a small towel, fill it with ice and close it with a blue hair tie you had in your arm.

“What’s that for?” The voice behind you made you jump, he was creepily quiet for being so tall. He chuckled softly at your big eyes and covered it with a cough, going back to his quiet facade “Sorry”

“It’s for your eye” you wasted no time on handing it to him, he seemed to consider it though “It will help” at least it did when you had accidentally bumped your head with the floor “Do you want an aspirin?”

He tilted his head to the right, his good eye scrunching a bit, almost as if he tried to see you better, it reminded you of something that you couldn’t quite pinpoint “Why do you care?” He asked abruptly.

For a second you thought that you’d crossed some sort of line and he’d be mad about it, but his voice wasn’t harsh, nor was it sweet, it was actually confused.

You opened your mouth to answer, but you didn’t know why you cared, for all you knew he was a stranger that came all bloody to your house to make a project with you. He was about to give it back and you knew it so you said the first thing that came to your mind “Friends help each other” so much for binging that corny high school drama.

He almost laughed “We aren’t friends” was his only response, he knew you weren’t friends, he barely even knew you for that sake, the implication alone was ridiculous. You decided to stubbornly stick to that argument “But we could be” you shrugged and realized he still didn’t look too convinced “Okay, let’s at least be friends tonight, if you don’t want to be friends after that you’re free to never talk to me again” you added the last part with a smile and winked. He blushed and looked the other way muttering a quick “Whatever”

But he didn’t let go of the ice-towel.

Soon after starting the project the pizza arrived, and before you noticed it you were setting it on the table as Isaac brought the soda, you bit your lip slightly, you’d been working for almost an hour and still you hadn’t talked about anything other than the project.

“Okay, let’s put it all aside and watch some TV while we eat” you two had just finished setting everything up before you spoke he did a double take when he noticed you staring straight into him “But we still haven’t finished it” he seemed actually concerned about it “We still have two more days, we can continue it here or at the library or your house-“ he stopped you there “Not my house” it was almost too quick and closing off himself again.

Oh. It clicked in your mind seconds before you actually understood it. But you wouldn’t let him close off again.

“Okay, not your house, but the offer remains, we have time to finish it and it’s not really that long” you were already turning the TV on, muted for him to actually make up his mind but on for him to know that you did want to watch something “Listen, I said I wanted us to be friends, and I mean it, how are we going to be friends if we don’t talk?”

He appeared to be taken back and only nodded, you were quick to select Netflix and gave him the remote “You’re the guest, you choose” he gave you a half smile and started looking through the titles as you started eating.

The rest of the days you had set up for the project went in a blink of pizza, laughter and meaningless talk. He seemed to start opening up by the end of it, still not completely but he was opening up.

Suddenly it wasn’t about you being stubborn, you actually wanted to know more about him. But the time you two had designated was almost over, and you realize you didn’t really want it to end.

“You better not ditch me tomorrow Lahey” you said suddenly with a smile “I’m actually invested on us being friends” he started to smile too, his whole face getting more of a pink color.

As soon as the words left your mouth he wanted to scream, to grab you by the shoulders and shake you so hard that you’d tell him the truth, he was never one to have much friends, if any at all, and he’d actually grown to like you on the little time you had actually talked to each other.

It would hurt him badly if you were lying. Thankfully for him you weren’t.

As for you, that may as well have been your only exit, he wasn’t obsessed nor in love yet, you could have left easily, but you lost your chance.

The next morning as you arrived five minutes early for the first class you noticed an empty seat by his side, you gave him your nicest smile as you walked to him, you asked if the seat by his side was taken and he was quick to shake his head and offer it to you, he felt hysterical butterflies on his stomach at the fact that you hadn’t been lying only to finish the project.

And you spent the rest of the week with him, he was nice and real, more real than any of your other friends had been never leaving you by your own during school which your anxiety really appreciated.

As for him his heart was melting but his stomach ached, what if you got bored of him? That feared almost ate him, you had been the nicest person he’d known, and also his only friend.

Soon he started feeling angry when anyone else talked to you, he was afraid that they’d whisk you away and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

After some days of him arriving with new bruises you tried to talk with him about it, but he’d always stop you, wanting his time with you to be more pleasing. So you did what you could and started bringing numbing creams and aspirins.

The first time you treated him he saw that they were new “Did you got hurt on P.E?” Was his only question as you applied some cream on his upper arm, “No, why?” You gave him a short answer as you bit your cheek, you didn’t like him getting hurt.

“Then why did you bring these?” He asked, you were quick with an already rehearsed answer “The aspirins are for my migraines and I had the cream laying around, I thought to bring it in case anything happened” but something inside him clicked in place, you cared about him, you’d brought the cream just for him, and then he made a promise to himself, to never let you go.

After that he started blushing more frequently around you, quickly noticing little things, the way the left corner of your mouth turned upwards when he made a joke during class and you tried not to laugh and keep a staright face, how you’d grab his sleeve and tug on it when you wanted to go somewhere else but were too lost on your own thoughts to say anything, and finally, how easy it was to make you blush or laugh, both things he really liked causing.

He realized he had a crush on you when during class the Stilinski boy had given the teacher one of his usually weird and vague responses and you laughed, unable to stifle it for long enough, at first Isaac himself had thought the response was funny, but when Stiles turned to awkwardly smile at you he wanted to punch him repeatedly in the face.

It only got worse after the bite, you were everything that anchored him to himself, everything he’d ever want, and he felt this urge to torn every guy who dared smile or even look at you. Soon you couldn’t remember the last person you’d talked to that wasn’t him or Derek or Erika, the only people he trusted with you. It had taken long for him to get rid of everyone else, but he’d enjoyed making a show of it, using some of his newly gained strength to frighten possible competition, until they couldn’t even look at you anymore.

One night he’d brought you some fast food, his heart hammering, he had made two choices for that evening, if you decided to stay with him he would be the happiest person alive, but in case you said no he’d made a deal with Derek to take you away.

Not too far, he’d take you to a place Derek owned, that was the deal for him to stay as his beta, a deal he wouldn’t have been happier to take.

You opened the door and he noticed that you were quick to smile, a point on his favor. “What’s today?” You asked staring at the food with a smile “Nothing yet” he answere muttering the last part with a nervous smile “Then what’s the food for?”

He had rehearsed an answer for every possible question but here, looking at you, he forgot everything and then a memory took over him “It’s what couples do” his smile was growing wider and you looked confused “We aren’t a couple” you were trying to make sense of his words.

“We could be”

#isaac lahey #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x you #yandere #yandere Isaac Lahey #yandere x reader #yandere teen wolf

[realcube]

waking up the hq boys at midnight to get ice-cream hcs🍦

characters: tsukishima, tanaka, nishinoya, ushijima, sugawara,  oikawa,  kageyama 

note: yes, this was very much inspired by that one tiktok sound where the girl wakes up her bf to get ice-cream- 

also, i use midnight as like..the middle of the night- not actaully 12AM lol

tw// fluff, sangwoo- 

Tsukishima Kei

you did not need to wake him up at 1AM to get ice-cream

man was already up, having just came off his phone and laying like this 😐 in bed as he either waited for himself to fall asleep or was thinking about an awkward interaction he had earlier that day 

anyway, as soon as you turned to him like ‘tsukki, do you wanna come with me to get ice-cream?’

he was suddenly 😴 fast asleep, fake snores and all

you were stubborn though, so you hopped out of bed up to go get ice-cream by yourself if he was just going to ignore you 

although, once you threw your coat on, tsukishima decided to start questioning your unusual behaviour, ‘why do you want ice-cream? it’s night; can’t you just sleep like a normal person and have ice-cream in the morning?’ 

honestly, tsukishima probably finds your nightly antics more endearing and cute rather than annoying 

he’d never admit it though- 

if you talk to him after midnight, on the outside he always looks displeased but really, he loves talking to you period

whether it is at 5PM or 1AM

you shrugged, without an explanation for your craving, ‘i don’t need to reason my midnight urges to you.’

with that, you turned on your heels to head out the door with the full intention of going to get ice-cream - this wasn’t a game 

tsukishima groaned as he finally deduced that you were being dead serious and not just doing this to irritate him

‘ugh, wait.’ he scoffed, forcing himself out of bed to follow you, ‘we have ice-cream downstairs, dumb-ass. don’t bother going out.’ 

you didn’t spare him a glance, continuing to venture to the front door, ‘yeah, but we don’t have strawberry.’ 

tsukishima glared at you, realising that persuasion would not work in this situation so he’d have to resort to brute force and trickery

‘ah, alright.’ he let out a sigh of defeat, ‘at least give us a hug before you go then.’

you paid no mind to how he referred to himself as plural, which is something he only does when he is lying or guilty as he is talking on behalf of his two faces 

also, you should’ve realised something was up when he actually asked for a hug instead of just expecting you to give him one

obliging, you wrapped him in a hug; allowing him to scoop you up into his arms, throw you over his shoulder and carry you to the kitchen

‘let me go, you whore!’  you squealed, lightly slapping his back as if that’d make him let you go 

tsukishima snickered at how childish you were being, ‘you can’t go out in the middle of the night to get ice-cream. you’ll die.’ 

‘i won’t die!’

‘you definitely will.’

anyway, he ends up making you both a bowl of ice-cream and eating it with you at the kitchen table while watching Spirited Away

and despite the fact he had some too, he’ll tease you about this for..the rest of your life 

like sometimes he’ll just wake you up in the middle of the night (during holidays ofc - he respects your sleep schedule) and whisper in your ear, ‘(y/n), do you wanna come get ice-cream with me?’

Tanaka Ryūnosuke

IORFHIEBGEGBO THIS MAN

ik most ppl would think he’d just go with you without a second thought or that he’d be the one asking you to go out for ice-cream but- no- 

well, yes; he wants to 

but when you wake him at 1AM 

(which he doesn’t mind btw bc  sometimes he accidentally wakes you up at like 3AM bc he’s ragin’ on Battlefield oop-)

and you’re all like ‘ryū, wanna go get ice-cream?’ *puppy eyes*

he’s like ‘sure!- but i ain’t got money so- no ❤’ 

then he goes back to sleep 

however, if you say that you’ll pay..he’s already standing with your bags by the door

so you’re definitely gonna have to fork up some cash for that good quality pistachio gelato for him if you want his presence 😌

but tbh, if you said that you were just gonna pay for yourself, he’d come anyway-

Nishinoya Yū

y’all go out at midnight for ice-cream at least once a week-

and it literally began bc you were watching ASMRs and Mukbangs together at 1AM during a sleepover 

and one person was having some lemon gelato and it looked 👌✨ immaculate

in that moment, you both looked at each other and neither of you had to utter a single word for you both to know that there was a mutual goal in mind; to get ice-cream, ASAP

so yeah ig you didn’t have to wake him up but you did need to awake the desire for ice-cream inside him

needless to say, y’all ran to the nearest ice-cream place 

and you made a race out of it 

(you won, ofc)

AND YOU BOTH SHARED A CUP OF GELATO AND IT WAS SO CUTE ! q(≧▽≦q)

and y’know the trope where you have food on the corner of your lip/chin etc and the person kisses you to get rid of it? 

yeah he tried to do that with the trope in mind but he deadass LICKED you IWFBVBBFRI

he was like ‘omg (y/n), lemme get that for you’ 😋👅

honestly, ig it depends if you are into that kinda stuff but ik some ppl would leave fast af ( ﾟдﾟ)つ Bye

Ushijima Wakatoshi

sorry i might have a bit of favouritism going on but i feel like ushijima would be a bigger bitch about it than tsukishima (at first)

but it’s like- solely bc you woke him up y’know?

‘ushijima, wanna go get ice-cream?’

he’s just laying there with his bed-head like :/

silently livid bc you messed up his potential 9 hours of sleep

‘no.’

pester all you want but that is the best you’re getting out of him that night

HOWEVER, the following afternoon (after practise ofc), he took you out for ice-cream 😊

and unlike some would believe (by ‘some’, i mean myself 2 secs ago.) i don’t think he’d be all ‘ice-cream is horrible for your health, (y/n)’ or ‘i can’t believe you’re eating that filth. your body is a temple.’

but that rather he’d just happily eat gelato with you; everything in moderation ig :)

OH AND HE’D PURPOSELLY BUY A DIFFERENT FLAVOUR FROM YOU SO HE COULD BE LIKE

‘(y/n), do you want a bite of mine?’ and give you a spoonful to try like the romance king he is  

Oikawa Tōru

you wouldn’t wake him up bc mf needs his beauty sleep

plus, it was during a sleepover at your house so ofc you didn’t want to wake up your guest 

but he’s a light sleeper so when you’re shuffling through your stuff at 1AM, sneaking around the house to find a jacket (trying to be as quiet as possible so you don’t wake him up); his eyes are open and he’s speculating that sangwoo is near

until he turns around to notice that you’re not laying next to him and he is in fact being spooned by a large pillow (probably a sangwoo body pillow smh)

after that, he hops to his feet and storms through the house in search of you so he can yell at you for ruining his sleep grr

however, once he finds you and realises that you look ready to head out, he feels inclined to firstly ask, ‘where are you going? you know it’s 2AM, right?’ 

you replied by explaining your plan to sneak out for ice-cream and he just stared at you, absolutely bewildered for a few moments

he stood like a statue with that stupid expression on his face for ages so you asked him if he was alright, to which he responded, ‘that’s such a stupid idea.’

‘so, you’re not coming with?’

‘of course i am.’

so you both ended up sitting with your ice-cream cones, in your pyjamas, on a park bench somewhere, admiring the moonlit sky along with the stars adorning it

oh, and that was actually the first time he said ‘i love you.’

Sugawara Kōshi

if feel like suga would be exactly like the guy in the sound/video: confused, tired and extremely reluctant but ofc inevitably he ends up standing outside of a dessert place, hand-in-hand with you

he’d wake up, weary from fatigue and he barely has the strength to argue with you during the day - so how exactly was he supposed to do it in the middle of the night? 

thus, he lugged himself out of bed and threw on a coat but as soon as the cold winter air bit at his nose, he was flooded with the energy and will-power to try convince you stay in with him

(It’s his parental senses) 

‘you’ll catch a cold, darling!’ (yes, he does call you that.) ‘and it’s night too, there’s probably a bunch of creeps out and around!’

at that point, it was just a battle of will

bc you both had each other’s wishes at heart

you wanted him to have peace of mind and he wanted you to have ice-cream

(and he was kinda craving some himself tbh)

so you both decided to stay in, tucking into the half-eaten tubs of Ben & Jerry’s in the fridge 

and after that, neither of you got any sleep bc you both stayed up watching movies and cuddling 🥺

Kageyama Tobio

he was wide awake at 2AM, laying beside you on the bed, practising sets 

so ofc the time wasn’t an issue

but kageyama wasn’t big on sweet treats so when you suggested that y’all should go out for ice-cream, you were shocked - to say the least - when he simply replied 

‘sure’

like why would he oppose? he was already awake. plus, he was kinda craving something sweet tbh

also, he could tell it’d make you happy and he’s whipped tbh

so you took advantage of this indifferency by immediately jolting up and dragging him to your favourite dessert place

the whole time, he acted as usual - it was as if he was just on a regular walk to school

when you got there, you both shared a sundae and he paid; what a king (❤´艸｀❤)

(it was bc you had forgotten your wallet/purse at home- but still a kind gesture 💕)

you both just sat in a booth, pecking away at the sundae while talking about anything and everything that came to mind as the low, distant R&B music from the shop’s speakers played in the background

 ‘it is flat. have you ever been on a plane before, (y/n)? did you see a single curve? no.’

you rolled your eyes, finding it physically painful how stupid kagyeama could be sometimes, ‘it’s science, kags. the earth is round! the curves are just very subtle.’

‘no.’

‘YOU CAN’T SAY NO! IT’S SCIENCE!’ 

#haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyū!! #tsukishima x y/n #hq tsukishima #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima hcs #tsukishima headcanons #ryunosuke x reader #ryunosuke tanaka #tanaka ryuunosuke #tanaka ryunosuke x reader #tanaka headcanons #hq tanaka #yuu nishinoya #nishinoya x y/n #yū nishinoya #tanaka fluff #tanaka ryunosuke x you #tanaka ryuu x reader #nishinoya yuu #hq nishinoya #nishinoya fluff #haikyuu nishinoya #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya x you #ushijima x y/n

[fandomfindings]

Pick Up

Pairings: (Kuroo Tetsurou x Fem!Reader)

Word Count: 2.0K

Warning(s): Cursing, Audacity

Summary: The first time you pick up your daughter from daycare leads to a misunderstanding between you and the staff.

A/N: (DN) = Daughter's Name

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"Can we go get ice cream when you pick me up, daddy?" Your daughter asked, kicking her little legs against the booster seat that kept her small body in place in the car.

Kuroo chuckled. Of course, the child was already looking forward to a sweet treat after school. "You're going to have to ask mommy princess; she's picking you up today."

"Mommy's picking me up?" (DN) perked up at the thought, removing her gaze from the window and to the back of her father's head.

"Mhm," Kuroo mumbled lightly. "I have to go on another business trip, so mommy's bringing you to daycare and back home all week," your husband explained thoroughly.

"Yes!" (DN) exclaimed, obviously excited for the change of events. Kuroo was usually the one to take her to and from school, for it fit better with his work schedule than your own.

"You're not going to miss me?" asked Kuroo, feigning hurt, as he looked between his daughter in the car's rear-view mirror and the road.

"I'll miss you, daddy, but mommy never picked me up from school before! I want her to meet all my friends and teachers, and she can see where we play," Your daughter began to ramble about all the things she was excited to show you, all the way until the two had reached her daycare.

Kuroo helped the child from her booster seat and then the car, taking her small hand into his significantly larger one.

"Alright, sweetheart. I'll call you for bed, okay," Your husband said once inside the building, down on one knee to be eye level with his child.

"Okay, daddy. Bye, I love you," (DN) said, grabbing her father's face with her small hands and placing a kiss on his forehead, an action she picked up from exchanges between you and your husband.

Kuroo smiled, reciprocating the action, his big hands taking up almost all of her face. "I love you too, kiddo."

As a worker took the girl to her class, Kuroo called out to her one last time, "Be good!"

"Yes, sir!" your daughter yelled back, turning around to wave her father goodbye.

Kuroo stood, ridding his suit of any dirt that may have stuck to him while he was on his knee. He was about to leave when someone spoke up to catch his attention.

"You're very good with her," said one of the workers. Kuroo often saw her when dropping off or picking up your daughter. They made small talk now and then, but he couldn't even remember the poor lady's name.

"I would hope so," Kuroo chuckled awkwardly, not sure how to respond to the supposed compliment.

The worker laughed back, almost too much in Kuroo's opinion considering the remark wasn't very funny.

"Yeah, I respect you for taking such good care of her, especially since," The woman began but was interrupted by the ringing of Kuroo's phone, a unique ringtone he had in place just for you.

As soon as he heard the tone, Kuroo didn't hear the rest of what the employee had to say. Unbeknownst to him, it was about him being a single father, which wasn't true by any means.

"Yeah, babe?" Kuroo answered, turning to leave the building, completely forgetting the previous conversation, too excited about hearing your voice.

"Bye, Mr.Kuroo!" shouted the lady, trying one last desperate attempt to get his attention.

He gave a simple wave of his hand back before leaving the building entirely.

"Who was that?" You questioned, hearing the voice even through the phone.

"One of the workers at (DN)'s school," Kuroo explained, uninterested. "How are you this morning, my love?" he asked, changing the subject to something he was actually interested in, you.

"Babe, let me tell you!" You exclaimed, getting ready to rant about your morning thus far, causing Kuroo to chuckle.

The rest of your day went off without too many more hiccups. You met Kuroo for lunch just before he left for his business trip. There you gave final goodbyes to your dismay, but you knew you would see him soon.

After work, you headed to your daughter's daycare, excited to see her cute little face again. Once there, you parked and headed inside to a front desk as Kuroo instructed.

"Hi, how are you?" asked an employee as soon as you reached the desk.

"I'm alright, and you?"

"I'm well. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Yes, I'm here to pick up (DN)," You stated using the sign-out sheet Kuroo had also instructed you to do.

"Kuroo (DN)?" The worker clarified, verifying your name after you completed the sheet.

"That's her," you smiled at the mention of her name.

"Of course, I'll get her right away."

"Thank you," you said politely to the retreating employee. As you waited, you pulled out your phone, seeing a picture from Kuroo looking bored in a meeting. Grinning to yourself, you replied with some words of encouragement.

"Are you her nanny?" asked a sudden voice. You looked up to see it was the other worker who was at the desk. You hadn't paid much attention to her since she didn't address you when you first arrived.

"I'm sorry?"

The woman asked again, "Are you (DN)'s nanny?"

"Ha no, I'm her mother," You replied, thinking it was funny that she thought so. Looking back to your phone, you were about to send a joking text to Kuroo about being the 'nanny', not finding a reason to continue the conversation.

Unfortunately for you, the woman continued it anyway, "You're her mother?" questioned the worker skeptically.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I sure I'm her mother?" You asked, voice rising in volume slightly, almost appalled she would ask such a thing. The employee nodded, not daring to ask you again. "I'm pretty sure, considering I've raised her since she was born. Would you like to see her birth certificate?" You challenged.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm going to have to call Mr.Kuroo just to verify," said the woman picking up the phone before you could even say anything.

"Mr.Kuroo? You mean my husband."

"Your husband?"

"Yes, my husband. (DN)'s father," You simplified, hoping the words would sink into her seemingly thick skull.

"Yes, hello?" Kuroo answered the phone, confused. He had (DN)'s school saved in his phone, but they never called him before.

"Hi, Mr.Kurro, I'm sorry to bother you. I know you're a busy man," the woman said apologetically, her tone and demeanor changing as soon as Kuroo answered the phone. She even had the gall to twirl the phone cord like a lovesick teenager. It made your blood boil. "I just wanted to let you know there is a woman here claiming to be (DN)'s mother."

"That's my wife," Kuroo answered easily, knowing you were heading to the daycare straight after work. "Is there a problem?"

The worker was a bit stunned, her view of the man changing instantly, she didn't know he was married, how embarrassing. "No sir, not at all," She replied, stuttering out a bit towards the beginning.

"Good. Please refer any further calls or concerns to my wife, please," Kuroo said before immediately hanging up the phone, needing to get back to his meeting.

"Yes, sir," the employee responded despite the lack of your husband on the call.

The woman looked up to you, mouth slightly ajar as if she was about to say something, but nothing passed her lips. Before she could say anything, hopefully, apologize for her behavior (DN) made her appearance.

"Mommy!" exclaimed your daughter's voice as soon as she saw you. Leaving the grasp of the other, more likable employee, she ran towards you, wrapping her small arms around both your legs.

"Hi, sweetheart!" You exclaimed, matching the child's energy, sinking to her level to wrap her in your arms. "How was your day?" You questioned, taking the time to glare at the lady who dared to question your role in your daughter's life.

"It was great! I went outside with my friends, and we read that book that you and daddy read me at bedtime." said the girl. "I even got to point at the pictures for the rest of the class."

"That sounds lovely, baby." You said, standing up and taking your daughter's hand. "Why don't you tell me the rest on the way home?"

"Can we stop for ice cream?"

"Did you get a green sticker today?" You asked, walking towards the exit of the building.

"I got gold!" Your daughter corrected the pride evident in her voice.

"Whoa, a gold! I think that calls for extra toppings."

"Yes!"

In a sickly sweet tone, you turned back to the unkind worker and said, "You have a good day."

You spent the rest of your day spending time with your daughter. After getting ice cream, you two went to the park for a bit and then home to get her cleaned up and ready for dinner. You cooked a meal both of you enjoyed to cheer you up and keep (DN)'s spirits high, though that was rarely a problem.

At bedtime, Kuroo called as promised and listened to your daughter rave about her day. You two read her to sleep, per usual.

Now it was just you and your husband, and now you were ready to talk about the altercation at the daycare. You had filled your husband in a bit via text, but it was nothing like a good old rant.

"It was fucking ridiculous! She's my daughter!" You yelled, pacing the large room you and Kuroo shared."I shouldn't have to explain myself to her. Who does she think she is?"

"I know, darling I think she was just trying to make sure you weren't trying to abduct a child," Kuroo tried to reason to calm you down.

"Bullshit. The other worker verified me. I'm on the emergency contacts list. They have my picture!" You explained, listing off the reasons why what the worker did was disrespectful and honestly unprofessional.

"Do you know what I think it is?" You rhetorically asked.

"What's that, love?"

"I think she likes you. She was obviously flirting during that call earlier."

Kuroo, genuinely not knowing this information asked, "Was she?"

"Yes! Blatantly so. She wasn't even trying to hide it, and I was right in front of her. Me! Your wife!" You shouted, trying to piece together what the woman was thinking, but it was honestly giving you a slight headache. "Did she not see the ring on my finger? The ring on your finger? The audacity of that bit-"

"Alright, alright, hey, calm down."

"Uh, it's just so upsetting," You said, mood going from anger to dejected. "Am I not in (DN)'s life enough? Do I need to do more?"

Kuroo sat up in his chair, staring at the phone as if he could see you. He should've video called you instead. "Hey, don't talk like that; you do plenty," Kuroo said firmly. "I just so happen to be the one who drops her off and picks her up. That's just how our schedules work. We're both busy, love."

"I know. You're right," You agreed, not being able to deny how busy you two are. "Maybe I should start doing drop off or pick up," You suggested. "I'm her mother, and they need to know that."

"I'm sure they do by now," Kuroo teased. "We'll talk more about this when I get home, okay."

You groaned, realizing he wouldn't be home until the end of the week."Can't you come home now?" I need you after such a rough day."

"I wish I could. I do," Kuroo said sadly. He really did wish he could be there for you right now. He'd prefer being in bed with you over some hotel room any day. "You know I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Yeah, I know."

You two sat in silence for a bit, both of you too tired to carry out much of a conversation. However, just the knowledge that both of you were on the phone was enough.

After a while, Kuroo spoke up."Go get you some beauty sleep," he said, knowing you would need the rest. "I'll call you in the morning."

"Fine," You sighed. "I love you."

"I love you too."

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A/N: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed reading this imagine as much as I enjoyed writing it. This was so much longer than I originally intended but I won’t complain because I love how it turned out in the end. And honestly there’s no such thing as too much Kuroo. Feel free to let me know what you guys think!

Lots of Love <3

#kuroo #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo x reader #kuroo x reader imagine #kuroo x reader fanfiction #kuroo x reader one shot #kuroo x reader ff #kuroo x reader fanfic #kuroo x female reader #kuroo imagine #kuroo one shot #kuroo fanfiction #kuroo fanfic #kuroo ff #hq #haikyuu!! #kuroo haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu ff #dad!kuroo #dad!kuroo imagine #dad!kuroo x reader #dad!kuroo fanfiction #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n

[curly-bangtan]

Heatwave Drabble #9: sweet night (M)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- must read first!

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: After a series of miscommunications and immaturity that lead to a rip through both your friendship and ambiguous relationship, this last turn of events could be the deciding factor of whether or not you’ve lost each other from your lives forever.

Genre: angst, smut, fwb au, roommate au, f2l

Warnings: SO much angst and feels, slight slow burner and a lot of build up, unprotected sex, hot tub, oral (m&f), food play, crying, i don’t want to give too much away eeee

Word count: 23.8k a monster i know ;-;

A/N: The end is finally here!! It’s late but trust me when I say I worked all day on this and did not do an ounce of revision today because I wanted to get this done. I’ve been writing this series, and this ending in particular, for so long and have been so nervous about getting this perfect. So please enjoy~

(quite a few ppl also couldn’t be tagged from the taglist and it’s 3am so i honestly dk how to fix it ;-;)

.

You used to think heartbreak was for the weak, after all you can only hurt as much as you let yourself be hurt. So... maybe you are weak. Because that ever-constricting ache in your chest has not diminished even a bit since that day you left him.

Four weeks. Not a word to each other.

It’s a hollowing feeling - someone you’ve had in your life every day for the past few years, a constant companion, suddenly completely absent in a blink of an eye. You don’t think you could put it into words even if you tried how this affected you. Life feels so foreign, your personality dulls.

The anger you felt for him dissipated quicker than you’d anticipated, but the anger at yourself only grew. No matter how you look at it now, you can only see it as being your fault.

But the decision to part ways was for the best, you have to keep reminding yourself. You shouldn’t be around each other anymore.

Whenever you see him around campus, you spin around and speed off the other way, hoping that he doesn’t see you too. Okay, you are weak, okay. But your heart twists at the sign of him, not just squeezes but twists into thorned knots. It’s the sort of pain that takes from you, makes you a different person unrecognisable to yourself.

You had moved in with Lotta. When she asked you what happened, all you had said was that you two had a massive fight and fell out. She knew better than to prod further from the telltale signs that you were close to tears from a simple question: the trembling throat, pursed lips, uncharacteristically quiet voice. And you were grateful because you knew you couldn’t afford to be asked about him without breaking.

The bed feels awfully cold in the nights of early February. And every night, you stare at his name on the screen of your phone, contemplating. One tap and you can hear his voice. One tap and your longing could be absolved. You always almost give in to this overpowering urge itching within your fingers. But you wouldn’t even know what to say to him.

Hi. How are you. I miss you like crazy and I think about you everyday but I know we should keep our distance but I’m just so sorry for everything.

You liked to think that maybe this break is just temporary, you both need space from each other because the toxicity built up so quickly that neither of you could think or breathe. But the longer time is spent away from him, the more you convince yourself that it wasn’t meant to be. It was never going to work; you knew this from the start but had been too optimistic.

And the mistakes you both made… You can’t forget them and the scars you’ve left on each other; you don’t think he’d be able to forgive you, not any time soon anyway.

You wonder if he’s doing the same, if he too is agonising over every wrong step he took to lead you two to this state, or if he’s cursing you for destroying everything. For his sake, you hope he’s moving on. Because that, for some reason, feels so much better than knowing that he’s crying over you.

The strange thing is that you had been the one to break things off. The look of lostness in his red-rimmed eyes laced with an unmissable reluctance will always be an enigma to you. Because he was furious, distraught. So why was he shocked by your ending? How was he not done with you?

That day you left, he wordlessly stood next to you as you packed your things. When you handed him his grey hoodie, the one you had gradually claimed as your own under mutual tacit agreement over your months together, it had truly felt like the end.

“Are... Are you sure? I don’t mind if you keep it.” He had said, voice raw from the arguing but also the tears he was fighting back.

You couldn’t look at him, you knew you would fall apart if you did. “I think it’s best if you take it back.” Why did he want you to keep it anyway?

Something was missing in both your voices when you spoke to each other, reflective of the heart-shaped void you had carved into the other. Everytime you think back to that moment, you want to kick yourself. You could have at least kept the hoodie - that way you could at least have a piece of him to cling onto in your lonely desperate nights.

Because now you have nothing. Nothing of his in your life, no reminder at all that he ever existed with you except the memories embedded so deeply in your heart that it hurts.

No one ever mentions him to you; you think they got the hint from Lotta not to. He’s a ghost.

Haunting you with his heartbroken eyes that shattered at the sight of Jimin. You’ll never forget that.

Sometimes, you’ll just be having dinner with her, and you’ll be crushed with this suffocating wave of missing him. It knocks the breath out of you. Because you can momentarily forget that it’s over, and mistaken Lotta as him. So when you look up and realise that it isn’t him, he’s not here, it’s as if someone is digging their nails into your scabbing wound and releasing the blood of your heartache once more.

And Lotta would look up and ask you, “What? Is the rice overcooked?” And you would want to cry because he would always overcook the rice.

And sometimes, you would just want to blurt it all out to her, right then and there. Tell her everything that had happened with you and him, because - god - keeping it inside is exhausting. But the words get trapped at your throat, unable to be enunciated. Which is just your forte, isn’t it? Not being able to say how you feel...

You are a competitive person, that has never been a secret. You are used to winning at everything you wish to win at, it is in your nature.

So losing Taehyung has been the biggest loss of your life. It had been a gamble from the start, whether it would work or not. There were so many signs pointing in the direction of yes, this is going to work, you love each other so much. Because still to this day, you believe that you are soulmates, and you were one step, three words, away from a happy ending. But then, caught up in this game you played, you hadn’t realised that he had been yours from the very start if you had only just accepted him. And that was your downfall: your failure to see his love for you in the form of his actions, rather than the words of validation you were seeking.

And thus, you had lost your lover, your best friend, your other half, completely of your own doing.

The realisation haunts you every night.

.

It’s Galentine’s Day. In this household, you don’t say the V word.

Lotta has booked a weekend trip to celebrate your mutual [forever alone] relationship status. Some strawberry farm in the countryside for friends to pick berries and make jam and bond over their mutual loneliness. Apparently that’s a thing nowadays.

It would have excited you before, a trip like this. The idea sounds much like a sweet attempt from her to cheer you up, (you haven’t been trying to hide how down you’ve been), so as much as you wanted to just wallow on this shitty holiday, you agreed to go with her.

And to be honest, this might be exactly what you need. A weekend away with your best friend away from the city could heal you. Best friend? Should you call her that? You’re not sure because that title has always referred to someone else previously, someone you shouldn’t be thinking about.

To your credit, you’ve been doing better. You think about him less and less each day; you stopped crying after the first week. You’ve always been a progressor with astounding growth. It’s not to say that you’re doing fine - that would be a reach - because small things such as a cup of hot chocolate would still remind you of him and the string of memories that come with it. But you think your heart is finally slowly starting to stitch itself back together.

Galentine’s weekend just so happened to fall on the weekend of Lotta’s Geophysics trip to Barcelona, as inconvenient as it is. But, rather than letting this disrupt her plans, Lotta had been adamant about going.

“My flight lands at 7am. That’s two hours before we are supposed to meet and depart from the coach station. That’s plenty of time.” She had waved away your concern when this topic of discussion came up last week.

“You never know with flight timings. We could just blow it off and have just as nice of a weekend at home watching movies.” Strawberry picking sounds great for the soul, but so does Netflix and ice cream. “We could have a Saw marathon like we’ve been wanting to.”

“Saw marathon on Valentine’s day?” Lotta scoffed at your suggestion

You blinked. “What’s wrong with that? We love scary films, it’s our thing.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’ve already paid for the trip and it’s non-refundable.”

“I’ll subsidise the cost, there’s no point forcing this trip if it won’t work with your schedule. You haven’t even let me pay you back for my half of the trip yet.” Lotta is like that with money, overly generous when completely unasked for. If you don’t mention paying her back, she would never have asked you to.

“It’s my treat to you, shut up. Just trust me, Y/N, I’ll make it to the coach on time, I always make it on time.” She shook you by the shoulders. “We’ll make our separate ways to the meeting point Saturday morning and everything else will go smoothly. There’s no reason to cancel the trip. Plus, V day is on Sunday, so do you really want to see all those shitty ass rom-com Netflix suggestions or would you rather be enjoying the great outdoors? Trust, we need a break in the countryside. It’s going to be an amazing weekend, you’ll thank me later.”

Right now, as you make a final check through your lightly-packed bag before you leave the house, you find yourself agreeing. You do need the fresh naturally strawberry-scented air to expel all these negativity from you. You want to feel yourself again, be happy and loud and excitable.

Collecting for your trip ticket that Lotta had left on your desk before she went to Barcelona, you decide right now that: yes, this will be an amazing weekend. Law of attraction and power of manifestation. Lotta’s flight will be punctual and you will make some fond memories together.

You’ll be okay.

You arrive at the meeting spot twenty minutes early because you are known to be prone to tardiness. The tour guide welcomes you keenly. He is a young, twenty-something you reckon, tall man, graced with dimples and honey skin. You think you would find him attractive in different circumstances, but you haven’t gotten to the stage of feeling attraction for anyone else yet.

“Your ticket with the barcode, miss?” His smile is charming, you guess. It’s more an observation than an enticing quality. You hand it over to him wordlessly and watch him scan the creased piece of paper. “Great, that’s perfect. And your partner?”

“Partner?” You frown, but realise what he means. This is a Galentine’s programme, of course he expects you not to be alone. “Oh, she should be coming, we came separately because she’s just getting off a flight right now.”

“Oh! That’s very sweet of her to rush back to spend this weekend with you.” The endearment in his smile heightens.

“Yeah… She’s the best.” There’s no particular reason for your awkwardness. You’ve always been a social butterfly, yet lately, you’re keeping more to yourself, avoiding unnecessary conversations because your mind is always too preoccupied.

“I am Jae, by the way, and I’ll be your guide for the weekend. I hope you have a wonderful time with us this Valentine's day. Hop on board.” Giving him a polite nod, you climb onto the empty bus, noting the swirly hearts beside the large red words ‘STRAWBERRY LOVE’ on the side of the big white vehicle. Kind of tacky, but the idea of this programme is kind of cute so you guess it’s suiting. After assessing row after row, you plop down at a window seat you deem worthy and settle your bag on the seat beside you, head leaning on the glass as you await your partner.

Dear partner, please don’t be late, you text her.

Soon, other participants of this trip start arriving, filing a crooked queue in front of the tour guide to register. You don’t pay much attention to them except to examine for Lotta’s face. The coach is set to leave at 9:00 on the dot in order to arrive at the farm at noon, it is now 8:56 and Lotta is still not here. You don’t want to lose faith in manifestation magic, but worry is settling in. If it comes down to it, you will beg Jae to wait for you. With your texts unread, you decide to phone her.

Come on… Just let this one weekend go smoothly for you.

Nervously playing with the ends of your hair, you exhale in relief when she picks up. “Oh thank god, Lotta. Where are you? The coach is leaving in like two minutes. You’ve landed right? I’m not sure if I can convince the people to wait for you that long but worse comes to worse, I could ask for the address of the farm and you can commute there yourself. ” A silence replies after your slur of panicked words. “Hello? Dude, hurry.”

“Wait, so he’s not there yet?” She asks hesitantly.

“Who? The tour guide? No, he’s here. Where are you?” Just then you hear a thunder of running footsteps. Expectantly, you look out the bus window for your friend’s arrival, only to find…

“Wait, Lotta… What the fuck did you do?” Something drops in your stomach.

“Look Y/N, don’t be mad. This is for your own good, you need this.” You can practically hear her stealthy smile through the phone.

An icy chill strikes down your spine. You simply cannot believe what you are seeing out the window. She-

“Lotta…”

“Trust me, okay? You have been so fucking depressed the past month. You need to fix this problem, please. I hate seeing you like this, so if not for yourself, then do it for me.” There’s some guilt in her tone, you’ll give her that. But you are in a state of utter disbelief, borderline shell-shocked, the groves of your brain tangled in itself.

“Lotta, where are you? Are you even fucking coming?” Absolute mortification fills your chest to the brim at your gradual realisation of her ploy.

This can’t be happening.

“I promise, this is all for your own good. Please have a great weekend. I love you. Bye!” And with that she hangs up, leaving you wide-eyed, jaw-dropped, staring out the window...

At a panting, slightly sweat-beaded Taehyung handing his crumpled ticket to Jae.

“Made it just in time, mate.” You can just about make out Jae’s words from the shape of his mouth as he greets Taehyung and proceeds to recite his ‘I’m your tour guide for the trip’ speech. Taehyung nods interestedly, reciprocating with that sheepish smile of his as he scratches the back of his bedhead.

What did your best friend do? Did she just… set you up…? As you hear his loud unmissable steps stomping up onto the coach, you know you’re doomed. It’s over for you. You might as well fling yourself off a cliff.

Looking around the bus, you realise that it of course is completely full except for the seat beside you.

The power of manifestation is fucking bullshit. You’re stuck with this bad luck for the rest of your life.

And this weekend, you’re going to die.

You see him as a blur at the start of the aisleway, a mere figure in swatches of peach and brown and black. You hear pounding, a booming pulse in your ear.

It’s Taehyung. Taehyung. Your, but also not your, Taehyung.

Each step he takes approaching the only available seat he sees, you shrink lower in yours and keep your eyes pressed shut, but for what reason you’re not entirely sure. There’s no hiding now.

Your confrontation is inevitable, a few steps away. Then he finally sees you.

“Y-Y/N?”

Your heart soars to your throat at the sound of his voice as everything around you vanishes. This can’t be real.

Slowly, you turn up to face him. When your eyes meet, it’s like someone has driven a sharp object into your chest and twisted. His face is exactly how you remember, but also not quite. His big brown eyes are wide with surprise in a pitiful expression of bewilderment. His sleep rumpled hair, grown out to almost cover his eyes, yet still very much permed in the style you loved. His lips are jutting out, slightly parted in confusion at your unexpected presence that reminds you of how it felt to kiss him.

And the look of disgust that you had expected - absent.

You want to throw your arms around him. There is always a warmth emitting from Taehyung - the kind of warmth you feel when you enter your house on a snow ridden day and the gust of heat accompanied by the smell of home simply swallows you like a wave. But there is also something different, unfamiliar almost, about him. He is rougher round the edges, hints of facial hair dotted below his nose, dressed in slacks that he only usually wore strictly as pyjamas and never to go outside in.

As your eyes fall to the rest of him, you notice his fists tighten around the straps of his backpack, the balls of his knuckles whitening.

“Taehyung-” Saying his name feels like a release. A rush of satisfaction at the way the syllables roll off your tongue so naturally, then a flood of emotion that comes with all the memories his name invokes.

Then you’re at a loss for words again. You are so utterly unprepared for this situation because you didn’t think you would meet him again so soon, not until you’ve moved on. You’re not ready to face him.

What do you say? How are you meant to act around him?

He looks equally as lost, though you read him easily. There’s a flash of hurt in his eyes, the same that you’re sure you had. But it dissolves much quicker with him, almost into relief and content as if he’s glad to see you.

You know from the slight downward angle his brows are pointing that he has definitely missed you. Perhaps in a completely different way from you missing him, but he’s missed you.

“If I could just have everybody's attention!” Jae’s voice booms from the speaker, startling every passenger. “Young man over there, please be seated.” You quickly snatch your bag into your lap to let Taehyung sit next to you. The seats aren’t the most spacious; despite pressing your side against the window as much as you can, Taehyung’s shoulder comes brushing past yours as he settles into his own seat. Your heart flutters. “As all our participants are now present, our ride will begin immediately. The duration of the ride will be three hours, but a pitstop will be made at around halfway for a quick snack or toilet break. Please ensure all seatbelts are fastened during the entirety of our journey...” He drones on.

Three hours, you bristle. Everything is happening all at once and your mind can’t catch up. You’re going to be stuck on this coach for three hours next to Taehyung. No, worse. You’re stuck with Taehyung for this whole weekend in a strawberry farm.

Glancing over, his lips are pressed into a thin line, no doubt with the same chaotic thoughts racing through his mind. There isn’t much leg room, and though his thighs are purposely clamped together to avoid touching you, you know he can’t keep them clamped this tightly for three hours without cramping. Your legs are going to touch at some point.

God, why are you even losing your mind over something so juvenile? You’ve been reduced to a pre-teen girl so easily flustered by the thought of touching thighs amidst this turn of events.

Everything is gonna be okay, you tell yourself. This is gonna be fine. You don’t have to speak to each other. Just put in your earphones and fall asleep against the window.

But you have so many questions, for Lotta, for Taehyung. Did she plan this? How did she know that he’d be here? Hell, did he know you’d be here? No, there’s no way. The shock on his face was genuine.

He stares ahead, though visibly extremely puzzled. You suppress the urge to glance over at him every second to check that it’s really him.

“Thank you everyone for joining us so promptly. As you already know, I am Jae and I will be the guide to your trip to our beautiful strawberry farm over this Valentine’s weekend.” You pause. Right, this is a Valentine’s weekend trip, you had momentarily forgotten. And you’re stuck with Taehyung here. Two days, two nights. You’re not sure if you could withstand his presence for that long. Will you ignore each other for the entirety of this trip? You would be fine with that, and in all honesty, you think you might prefer it over speaking to him because that would only sprinkle salt on your wound.

A sharp pain in your palm reminds you that you’ve been gripping onto the programme leaflet that was handed to you. You smooth out the creases of the paper and flip it open to skim through what you have to tackle ahead of you.

Day 1: Go strawberry picking with your partner at our scenic farm in the lovely spring weather while the sun is out. A heavenly spa awaits you afterwards to wind down and indulge together. For an amorous evening, go stargazing under our cloudless skies...

Alarm bells start ringing immediately, from the cursive font of the strangely-worded phrases, to the shades of reds and pinks of the background. You skim further down the page, the kernel of anxiety growing exponentially at your throat.

Day 2: Make delicious strawberry jam and learn our signature recipe for a splendid strawberry tart. When dusk falls, enjoy a romantic candlelit dinner with your partner amidst the symphonies of our string quartet.

Fuck. Wait, what the fuck.

You flip back to the front page.

Strawberry Love: The Perfect Couple’s Romantic Getaway Valentine’s Weekend

Strawberry… Love…

“What the fucking shit?” You can’t help but cry out loud. Lotta- She-

The passengers of the bus all turn to shoot you at look of concern at your outburst, Taehyung included. His eyes dart around the features of your face to search for an answer. “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong… What’s wrong…? What isn’t wrong at this point?

You feel defeated, absolutely fucking defeated that you don’t even have it in your to be shocked or angry. There is no way you can ignore him for the whole weekend when the programme of your trip - a couple’s Valentine’s trip - obligates you to spend time with him. The thought of making stupid little strawberry tarts with Taehyung… Your blood can’t even boil, you’re just fucking speechless.

Lotta, that conniving genius that is your best friend. How did she manage to pull this all off? Galentine’s trip your fucking ass. She tricked you into a romantic holiday with Taehyung, fucking hell...

But that means - she knows. The mortification hammers into your stomach. There’s no reason for her to do this other than for the purpose of getting you two to make up. Lotta fucking knew about you and Taehyung.

How? For how long? And why does she think that this will benefit you in any way? You and Taehyung are over and you were slowly (fine, excruciatingly slowly) moving on. Until now.

Letting out a huff of your frustration, you turn to look at Taehyung, properly look him in the eye for the first time. You can’t stop your chest from constricting. He regards you with that confused expression of his, eyes holding your glare but barely just, bashful from your sudden undivided attention channeled towards him. “I need to know what you’re doing here first.” It comes out harsher than you mean for it to, but it stems from your desperation to stay inert while your emotional sanity is precariously threatened right now.

“Me? I… Well, Lotta told me that she had a ticket for this weekend-trip to a strawberry farm type thing that she couldn’t go to anymore, so she asked if I wanted to go in her place because she knows that I like strawberries.” He furrows his brows. “Okay, that sounds really stupid out loud but I swear I didn’t know that you were gonna be here.” He throws his hands up, nothing but honesty flooding his chocolate eyes.

But of course, Taehyung doesn’t lie, you are sure from the times you’ve witnessed him not being able to muster up an excuse to get rid of an annoying relative on the phone. What’s more convincing of his truth is that he would not be the most difficult person to fall victim to Lotta’s scheme - drizzle in mentions of food and he is completely your pawn. You almost feel bad for this unsuspecting fool; he still has no idea.

But Lotta, that sly bitch… You are going to wrangle her when you get back.

“Taehyung… She lied to you.” You sigh, watching his features slowly contort in deeper confusion.

“Wait what? So we’re not going to a strawberry farm?” He sits up in alarm, looking around the bus as if that would grant him any insight whatsoever. You almost laugh at his naivety because as much as you want to uphold your cold exterior, something about him, his ever present innocent boyishness maybe, never fails to penetrate through to you.

“No, that’s not what I meant. She lied to me too; she told me that this would be a girl’s trip because we’re both single and bitter for Valentine’s. Get it? It was just a setup. For you and me.”  As the clockwork finally turns as he processes your words, a visibly distressed grimace forms. “Look at the programme, Taehyung, it freaking says: Strawberry Love: The Perfect Couple’s Romantic Getaway Valentine’s Weekend!”

As those words resonate from your mouth and the realisation finally dawns on him, dread settles itself in the pit of your stomach, cold, dry and coarse. Saying it aloud somehow finalises it - this is actually happening, you’re going to have to spend this weekend with the one person you’d least like to be stranded with right now.

“Lotta… But why would she…?” Deep red roses effloresce across the apples of his cheeks, and you feel yourself unconsciously mirroring his reaction as your mind flashes back to the planned activities of this tour. You’ll be made to pick berries and bake pastries together. And the romantic candlelit dinner… You can’t even finish that thought. Because even now, you find your eyes roaming every inch of his face, trying to memorise his details because it’s been so long.

This isn’t healthy for your heart. You were on a path of recovery, a path of forgetting him and forgiving yourself, and now you’ve been flung back to square one.

The bus jolts. His leg lightly knocks into yours and both your attentions momentarily divert to the touch, glaring at where the thick grey material of his joggers meets the thin cotton of your trousers. A long second passes before Taehyung lifts it away from you.

“I don’t know why she’d do this. All I told her was that we had a massive falling out.” You mutter. Except you do know, you know her very well. This was no mistake, but the result of careful planning. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“So maybe she’s trying to get us to reconcile?”

As soon as those words come out, you both seem to freeze in your spots, blinking in bewilderment at the slightest mention of the elephant in the room. It might be wishful thinking but you hear a sliver of hope in his question, and you think he hears how it came out too.

Reconcile.

Could the two of you reconcile after everything you put each other through in your last few days together? The thought tears you apart emotionally. Of course you want to reconcile, of course you want to be with him. But haven’t you proven enough that what you had didn’t work? Afterall, everything you had together came crumbling down at the smallest hitch in your path. What is there to reconcile but a dysfunctional relationship?

And how could either of you forget the torment you endured? The noises of Taehyung with another woman through the thin walls, your betrayal of his heart when you mistakenly slept with Jimin.

Reconciliation doesn’t seem possible in the foreseeable future.

“N-not reconcile in that way, I mean, like, for us to make up.” Taehyung stammers, hand waving about in his nervous state. “I mean- no, not make up, but like… make… peace. Yeah, make peace. Sorry.” He winces timorously at his spectacular fumble of words. It’s surprising how nervous and timid he is acting. He should be brutish to you, savage and hostile. But he isn’t.

“Yeah, I got what you mean… Don’t worry.” You can’t stop the corners of your lips from turning up, just a fraction. “But yeah, I think she wants us to make peace.” You conveniently do not bring up how you’re certain that she knows about your history and that this holiday she booked for you and Taehyung is most definitely for the purpose of reconciliation in that way.

“Right.” His bottom lip pinched between his teeth in a manner that makes it feel as though it’s a sight you shouldn’t be looking at, Taehyung’s attention shifts down to avoid your eye. Though, there’s a clear glimmer of expectation as he asks, “So… do you want to talk it out?”

The bus bounces, violently this time, as it drives over what must be a pebble. It rattles your thoughts so physically that you have to grip onto your trousers for support.

This is the deciding moment. Now is when you can choose how you go about this which will determine the rest of your weekend together.

Do you want to talk it out?

The painful memory of the last time you had tried to “talk it out” rakes its claws down your back. All the yelling, the hurtful accusations hurled both ways, the reluctance to accept blame… It haunts you so much so that your voices still ring in your mind, echoes embedding the misery you had both felt and inflicted deep in your bones.

The three stages of your fight painted clairvoyantly in your mind.

One: The Hurting Each Other.

You fuck guys without learning their names.

Two: The Guilt-Tripping.

I didn’t sleep with her. I couldn’t even kiss her for more than a minute on her bed because it felt so wrong it made me fucking sick. I stayed on her couch and thought about you all fucking night. Happy?

Three: The Falling Apart

I… I thought it was clear how I felt…

Always replaying in a loop.

“I’m not sure what there is to talk out.” You say, hating how callous you sound but knowing that it’s a necessary evil to convey your intent. That was in the past. Taehyung is your past. Talking about it would only drag you back into that perpetual cycle and there’s not much left in you to afford that. You look out the window at the open plains of grassland to avoid the hurt you know he can’t hide on his face. “I think it’s better if we keep our distance as much as possible and not make it difficult for ourselves.”

“Okay.” You hear him reply, but only a quiet mumble. From the faint reflection of the window, you see him tighten his jaw and fit his Airpods into his ears. The monster that is your guilt and bitterness sinking its fangs into your throat.

It’s better this way.

And so the bus continues to speed off to the countryside, driving you further and further from civilization and your chance of escape from this doomed weekend with the boy you’re trying to stop loving.

.

You wake up to someone gently shaking your shoulders. “Miss…” You jolt upright.

The first thing that elucidates in your sleep-fogged vision is your tour guide’s kind face smiling down at you. The second, when you come to your senses, is that you are leaning against Taehyung’s frame, his shoulders much harder than you remember them to be. The boy himself is fast asleep beside you, arm loosely linked with yours because you know he has a habit of holding things in his sleep. You hastily pull away.

“We’ve arrived, Miss.” Jae says politely, that humoured glow in his pupils eliciting a bashful blush from you.

“Oh right.” You look around to find the coach empty except for the three of you. “That’s embarrassing, I’m sorry.” The last thing you remember was the angry texts you spammed Lotta with before the songs in your playlist all blurred into one.

“No worries. Forgive me, I’m still learning names.” The heat of the sun is seeping through the glass of the windowpane, licking tenderly at your skin to rouse you awake. “I’ve tried to wake your partner, but it seems...”

“I’m Y/N. And don’t worry, he’s impossible to wake up.” You pause. There is a chance for you to rectify his misconception that you and Taehyung are a couple, except it would probably require some explaining or white-lying and now is not a great time if you’re holding up the whole group. “I’ll do it.”

Despite the conversation being had right over him, Taehyung shows no sign of his slumber being disturbed. His head is tipped back, mouth hanging open with a small dribble of drool beading at the corner of his mouth. Still the same deep-sleeping idiot.

“Oi.” You nudge his ribcage, scaring Jae with your coarseness. “Wake up, Taehyung.”

Nothing but heavy breathing.

“Dude, we’re here.” You grab his face between your harsh fingers and begin shaking vigorously.

Not even a stir. You remember how you used to like to joke that Taehyung could sleep through a burglary, and just to prove your point, you woke up in the middle of the night one time and screamed at the top of your lungs. He did not even move a toe.

“Uh-” There is a hint of worry in Jae’s face; perhaps he thinks that Taehyung has a health condition.

“It’s okay, I’ve got the trick.” This time, you pinch his nose with considerable force and clamp your palm over his mouth, ignoring the smoothness of his skin under your touch and the feeling of his lips skimming your palm. You glance up to find Jae’s eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, swaying uneasily at your method to wake him. “Don’t worry, it works every time.”

But true to your word, in a few seconds, Taehyung is sputtering for breath, eyes flying open in befuddlement, scrambling to sit up. You let go of his nose and smile at your tour guide only to find him petrified.

“What?” In disarray, Taehyung wipes at the corner of his mouth and pats his hair back down from its messy temperment. His heavy body no longer slumped against yours, you feel a weight lifted off your chest, though the fact that you had fallen asleep on each other plays at your mind, lingering to taunt you.

“We’ve arrived.” Jae winces.

You stare at the patterned seats of the coach, trying not to pay attention to Taehyung’s embarrassed apology and explanation on what a deep sleeper he is. You’re not going to think about Taehyung and sleeping. Mindlessly, you trail behind the banter men off the vehicle. You’re not going to think about how good it feels to sleep beside him.

The sun greeting you when you step foot onto ground instantly refreshes your mood, banishing away those thoughts that were slipping through the cracks. There’s something so healing about the air of the countryside, fresh and unpolluted and full of the pleasant crisp scent that one would associate with green and yellow. Staring back at you is a seemingly endless field of bushes dotted with red, the sweet berry smell already perfusing into your nose.

You ignore the crunch of gravel sounding from Taehyung’s steps not far from you and proceed to join the waiting crowd, their phones out to capture the stunning scenery.

As everyone gathers, it’s difficult to concentrate on Jae’s briefing of the weekend planned ahead, starting with an introduction to the farm which you frankly do not care to learn about. You try not to glance over at Taehyung at the corner of your eye, at how his hair is still sticking out awkwardly in the back, his eyes slightly swollen from sleep. You try not to notice his hesitancy, standing a distance from you despite everyone else standing in their couples.

It’s like a buzzing in the back of your mind, a constant tug at your consciousness, not allowing you to relax as much as you want to in this serene environment. You want to stop thinking about him but you can’t.

“In February, the weather is set to be nice and warm during the day and slightly chilly in the evenings, so I do hope that you have packed sufficiently as stated in the email. Now, if you look to your left...” Jae’s monologue drones on like white noise, because all you can focus on is not focusing on Taehyung.

Lotta has not replied to your hounding messages with anything of use, no answers to your plethora of questions. Just relax. Stop making such a big deal out of it, grow up and make up with him because you clearly aren’t over him. You wanted to tell her that things are not that simple, she doesn’t know how badly you both fucked up. Yet, you know her response would only be some pretentiously worded reply full of the condescending wisdom it always contains when she’s telling you off.

You’ll admit it, as stubborn as you are, Lotta’s advice is right 9 times out of 10. She was right when she said you shouldn’t have gone with Taehyung to Mykonos within two weeks of knowing him because he could have been a killer or psychopath. She was right when she pointed out that you act like Taehyung annoys the living shit out of you but you secretly care deeply for him.

But she’s definitely not right this time, you are adamant about it. It would be a miracle if you and Taehyung could even be friends within the next six months, let alone… And if anything were to happen, setting you two up on a romantic holiday together is certainly the wrong way to go about it. It feels so inorganic, like you’re forced to spend time with each other.

Out of habit, you steal a glance at him. It’s not a surprise to find him not paying an ounce of attention to Jae either. Taehyung is staring off into the strawberry field, face angled away from you such that the sunlight is hitting his skin in all the right places to glaze a golden aura over him.

It’s strange to see such a permanent sadness in his eyes, a melancholic nostalgia. You hate yourself - you did this to him, you broke him. Does he hate you? Resent you? You think you’d rather he did.

Soon, the group of you are whisked away down a pebbly path to a rustic looking hotel beside the farm where you will all stay in. It’s not the old run-down type of rustic, but more the luxurious kind that very evidently serves an aesthetic purpose. And that’s when you begin to notice, this “farm” is not really a farm at all, but more a boujee farm-themed resort. This trip could certainly not have been cheap. As much as you are here against your will, you can’t help but feel immense gratitude to Lotta for her willingness to spend such money on you.

You are stopped at a grand lobby, the style of which resembling a small piazza of Southern Italy - warm neutral-toned Roman concrete walls with a green flourish of vines and bushes. It’s absolutely stunning, a surreal setting that you only see in movies. It’s impossible not to feel the air of romance circulating this architecture. You glance over to find him, stood an awkwardly respectful distance away from you, gaping around at the interior of the building in awe. He is a sucker for art, especially architecture. You almost wish you were friends again only to hear him gush about the beauty of this place.

When Jae begins to hand out room keys, it suddenly occurs to you, perhaps the worst aspect of your predicament this weekend - you are sharing a room with Taehyung.

You are sharing a…

Heart sinking, you look over again to see if the same thought has dawned on him. It has. His eyes are fixed on Jae in an eerily blank way, his jaw tense, a single bead of sweat trickling down the side of his forehead which you will excuse as the heat.

When Jae approaches you, Taehyung automatically joins your side in a dazed worry. Eye contact made was brief, not enough for you two to communicate whether or not you tell Jae that this was all a mistake and you would much rather be apart.

“Here you go, Y/N.” Your guide flashes you that charming grin of his as he waves your keycards before you. Instinctively, you receive it in your palm. “You guys have got the deluxe suite - wonderful choice.”

“We-” You begin, but he doesn’t seem to take notice. You’re starting to notice that he perhaps likes the sound of his own voice a bit too much.

“As I said, strawberry-picking will start at half past so that gives you a bit of time to drop off your luggage and freshen up after the long ride.” He continues. This will probably be the only chance you get to tell him that you and Taehyung aren’t a couple before it becomes too late, and you’re going to miss this opportunity because of another one of his monologues. The desperate itch in your chest grows an uncomfortable size. “Please meet here at the reception on time. And as for your luggage - oh, I see you two are lightly-packed. Low maintenance, my favourite type of people. In that case, your room is on the ground floor, if you follow that lovely couple down that corridor over there.”

And just like that, he smiles, retracts his extended arm pointing towards the direction of your room and turns to guide another couple.

“Wai-” You call after him weakly, but he has once again launched into the same speech he’d recited to you to a new audience.

And there goes your chance of rectifying this weekend.

You stand there for a good minute, mind trying to piece together how, just how, you will manage to survive this weekend. Taehyung is quiet beside you, equally as baffled at what to do.

“Should we head to our room then…” He mutters after too long a moment of unmoving stature. “I kinda want to change into some lighter clothes and we don’t have that long.”

You nod without looking at him. Because you can’t stand looking at his face right now, the face that you’ll be stuck with for these two days, the face that you love.

Silence between you now grows more familiar as you walk wordlessly to your room, the round corner of the plastic keycard digging hard into your palm. It’s painfully awkward. Your echoing steps provide the only stable rhythm against the storm between you.

Beep. The door opens at your will with a swipe of the card.

You weren’t prepared for what exactly the deluxe room entails. Its size could easily be a tiny studio apartment: a small seating area consisting of a pearly white sofa and a glass coffee table so delicately built that you would not trust yourself near; a mini-kitchen on the left side of the room accompanied by a generously stocked beverage bar; a king-sized bed in the far right wine-red in colour and excessively buried in frivolous cushions. But the belle of the ball is really the glass panelled-wall at the back of the room that you face as you enter, spanning from ceiling to floor, opening up to the patio hand-plucked out of your dreams. Rose bushes, circular beige woven garden daybed, and not to mention the hot tub.

You are completely in awe. Your mind instantly flashes to Mykonos. This luxury is the furthest from a farm experience whatsoever. It really explains how every couple on this trip looks like the child of a wealthy politician with their finely manicured hands and sickly cologne.

“Woah.” An octave deeper than usual, Taehyung expresses his wonder as he surveys the extravagance that is your room. “This… How much must this have cost?”

“I have no idea.” You whisper, still in your state of near speechlessness while your feet take you to the glass wall.

This is a place of romantic films, a place for honeymoons. Everything is in a rose-gold tint, glistening almost mockingly under the soft February sun. Why are you here? You almost hear the slabs of sandstone ask.

Behind you, you hear him huff out the marvel that he is submerged in. His backpack slides off his shoulder, swung carelessly towards the loveseat. And plop he goes, starfished onto the bed.

Then the fear returns, reclaims its usual residence in your throat. As you pry your eyes away from the opulence of the veranda to look at Taehyung, his head lifts up at the same moment. The short-lived mist that clouded over your reality finally disperses.

You blink again at his sprawled out limbs. He blinks back.

It is as if a switch has flipped, the speed at which he jumps back onto his two feet, fright jarring his mouth agape. “I’llsleeponthesofa.” The slur of his words are unintelligible to your ears, but his display of alarm is almost comical, threatening a smile from the corners of your lips at the hysteria of your situation despite the same alarm you are experiencing.

“What?”

“I’ll sleep on the sofa.” His voice is firmer the second time he says it, tilting his chin up as if to reassure you of his confidence.

“It’s okay, I’ll sleep on the sofa.” You sigh because you know how much Taehyung is bursting to sleep in a king-sized bed. It was his first time in Mykonos, and you had not heard the end of how it was the best sleep he’s had in his lifetime. So imagine him now.

He bristles, a genuine look of offence fleets. “Of course not, I can’t allow that.”

“Why not?” Your tone with him is foreign, lacking the playfulness it once had - just an aloof callousness.

“‘Coz! I’m not gonna let you take the couch while I sleep on this massive bed.” He gestures at the couch for emphasis, letting his arm dangle afterwards. He is less different with you than you are with him, you note.

“You just answered my question with the very statement I was questioning you on.” You cross your arms and lean against the glass, allowing the warmth to bask through your shirt.

Taehyung frowns and mirrors your action, the muscle of his bicep flexing more than usual from the agitation in his motion. “‘Coz you’re a light sleeper. Just stop being stubborn and take the bed.”

You’re not quite sure why, of all things, ‘you’re a light sleeper’ is what moves you. The consideration he still holds for you inhibits any protest you wish to sound.

He cares about you, he clearly still does. Just like how you would willingly give up the bed for him.

God, you don’t want to fucking be here. You wish it didn’t have to be so painful, every single little interaction between you just reminding you again and again of how much you loved and hurt each other.

Taehyung takes your silence as compliance and begins to unpack, ruffling through his bag for a change of cooler clothes with his shoulders tense in discomfort. You know what the mature person in you should say: we can just share the bed. But you can’t think of a single reason why that would be a good idea.

With this Valentine’s trip completely planned for you two, it feels like the universe presenting you with an undeniable temptation. Everything around you is telling you to just get back with him, to give in to your inhibitions and fall back into him. You’ve got the champagne in the cooler, hot tub in the patio, rose petalled bed all laid out in front of you at your disposal. An inner voice chanting make up, make up, make up. Because what’s stopping you?

What’s stopping you is that look on his face when he saw Jimin fixing the back of his shoe beside you as you were walking him out. What’s stopping you is the sound of another girl moaning his name right down the hall from you.

So maybe some could see it as strength for resisting the yearning, for being able to put up a front and speak to him so indifferently. But you see it as weakness, because you still cannot move on.

.

Despite the sun blazing down your back, the cool gust of spring weather eases what otherwise would have been scorching heat. Never would you anticipate that you would be spending this weekend sifting through strawberry bushes to find large red ripe summer fruit, yet here you are. You don’t even think it’s strawberry season.

You’ve never been a country girl, but the dirt feels strangely comforting under your nails. Well, comforting is perhaps not the best word to describe your state of mind right now. As much tranquility as this farm is bringing you, with Taehyung always no more than two metres away from you, you don’t think you could ever relax.

In black sports shorts, plucking his own berries on the other side of the same very row of bushes, sweat trickling along the veins of his neck… Of course your attention is scattered.

Not to mention, you keep catching his shifting eyes. You thought you ought to say something, but what exactly? The awkwardness is prominent as it is.

A heavy exhale. You find a particularly large berry, leaves curling upwards to indicate its ripeness as the strawberry expert (yes, strawberry expert) had taught you. Pluck. And off it goes into your basket.

This is definitely therapeutic. You imagine every strawberry to be your feelings for Taehyung. This one over here shall symbolise his musky scent that you fall asleep to. Pluck. This one, his stupidly attractive perm, so long that even you would tell him to trim it because it’s covering his eyes. Pluck. His eyes… Especially when he’s confused as he makes that wide-eyed puppy dog face, which is very often. Pluck.

You glance up, you can’t help it.

And he’s already looking at you. Caught red-handed, literally red-handed because his hands are somehow stained with strawberry juice. Instantly he whips his head back down at his basket that is rested by his crouching knees, though there is not much in there for him to look at.

“Stop making this weirder than it already is.” He almost jumps when you speak, clearly not expecting any sort of interaction from your end.

Slowly, he glances back up at you, dark wavy fringe swaying from the slow tilt of his head. “I- Sorry, I wasn’t- Um, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

There’s something quite breathtaking about Taehyung under the sun, the way the rays reflect off his honey-tan skin to give an effulgent finish like a marble statue of some Ancient Roman God worshipped by priests and maidens. The coat of sweat gathered at his cupid’s bow could possibly be your undoing.

You love him, despite all the strawberries symbolic of his traits that you were picking.

And you hate yourself for that. You don’t want to feel like this anymore. You’re so sick of this heavily-hearted feeling of being dragged down by your emotions all the fucking time. You want to be able to look at him and feel nothing, look at him and not be intruded by the echoes of that night.

It makes you sick, the thought of him inside someone else. Physically sick to the core.

“Well, you are. So stop looking at me.” You state coldly. You just want to forget everything and let go of him, but his presence is not letting you do so. If being a bitch is what it takes, you’ll gladly be a bitch

“No, you have dirt on your face.”

Embarrassment slams into you like a wave, wielding you to shut your eyes and take a deep breath of humiliation. It’s instant karma for being a bitch. “Oh.” You say, carelessly wiping all over your cheeks with the back of your wrist, more with the intention of hiding the rush of blood to your face than to actually clean. You keep your eyes trained on a tiny pale berry in the bush, hoping that he’ll look away from you.

But he doesn’t. “You’re smearing it.” You look up to find his lips drawn in a tight line in attempt to hide his amusement. Everything is just working out wonderfully for you, isn’t it? Yet before your mind can process it, he rises from his crouch and leans over the short bushes.

When his thumb meets your cheek, it almost sears you. As his eyes are focused on the dirt on your face he’s brushing away, yours are locked on his gaze - gentle, warm, familiar. The collar of his shirt droops low, exposing his chiseled collar bones, protruding so enticingly as if for the sole purpose to catch your attention and remind you that it was one of your favourite places to bury your nose in.

Taehyung’s touch is heartbreakingly gentle; the rest of his fingers come under the side of your jaw for support, though only fleetingly. The whole exchange is brief, the dirt brushed away as swiftly as your relationship had crumpled.

You feel it in your nose first, that overwhelming wave of sadness, and then behind your eyes. You want to cry. You want to cry as he pulls away, as he realises that he has unconsciously acted out of familiarity, as a shyness reaches his eyes when he meets your glare.

It was only a mindless sweep of his thumb on your face, yet its impact is explosive under your skin, reminiscent of a time when such a touch had different implications, elicited a different response.

You quickly blink it away - the tears, but not the heartache. That wretched feeling in your throat does not permit you to thank him, so you just stare at each other, the world around you a mere blur of blues and greens. You watch his chest rise as he sucks in for air, wondering if the same memories are now visiting, no, haunting, him.

You can’t do this because you’re not strong enough. For you whole act of indifference in front of him, your constant resisting against the urge to fall back into him, you’re still not strong enough.

But to your surprise, or perhaps even gratitude, he’s the one who picks up his basket and paces away without another word. You watch the back of his calves, the slosh of his overgrown hair, as he walks away.

.

You stare out the glass door at the patio. It’s dark, you can scarcely see a thing with the lights outside switched off. It acts as a perfect canvas for your imagination, for scenes of your past together to materialise before you.

It’s not been a full day yet, and you already feel so drained. This is impossible. You want to call Lotta to pick you up, but upon deeper consideration, you don’t think you have the heart to. This must have cost her a considerable amount of money to book. She had the full intention that this will bring you and Taehyung back together, yet it is doing everything but. You don’t want to imagine her disappointment when you return in streams of tears.

After the session of strawberry-picking, your baskets were handed over for your fruits to be washed and prepared for your baking class tomorrow. Following that is your free time, when you are left to your own devices, at liberty to roam around the farm, dine at their organic restaurant by the hotel. Taehyung had taken Jae’s recommendation of visiting the spa; you opted to stroll (sulk) about, as far away from him as possible.

It’s unhealthy, this continuous bombardment of thoughts of him. Your month’s worth of progress has reduced to ashes.

Maybe you don’t even actually have feelings for him anymore. It could purely be a deception of the closeness you’ve developed for each other that you mistaken for love. You had spent almost every single day of the past two and a half years together, under the same roof, sharing a bed towards the last few months. It’s the safety and intimacy that your brain associates him with that forbids you from moving on.

Maybe you’re actually over him romantically. But the wanting, the missing him as your best friend still lingers.

The door to your room opens abruptly. Hair damp, Taehyung strolls inside in a white bathrobe and slippers, his clothes bunched up under his arm. Tiny beads of moisture dot the sparse view of his chest you have.

“Oh, you’re here.” He says, his step faltering at your clearly unanticipated presence. Or perhaps the sight of you, staring out into the dark, completely alone in this room is just awfully strange. “I thought you’d be eating at this time.” Eyes dropping to the ground as the door shuts behind him, his movements are clearly timid and weary, an rare expression on Taehyung.

“Not that hungry.” You mutter. “How was…” You ask out of habit, but immediately catch yourself. Quick eye contact before you both look away like docile animals. It’s too late for you to take back the question now anyway. “How was the spa?” And to make it appear that you don’t really care and was just asking out of courtesy, you turn back around to face out to the patio.

Completely unnecessary and petty move, whatever.

Except you see his reflection on the glass from the illuminated room all too well. Visibly easing that you’ve looked away, he plops his clothes down at the end of the bed and trails into the bathroom to fetch a towel for his hair. “Was really nice, they give good massages. You should give it a go at some point.”

“Okay.” He gives his head a good shake before drying with the towel. It feels creepy that he doesn’t know you are watching his reflection, so your eyes drop to your feet. You wonder if his masseuse was female. Not that it matters at all.

“What time are we meant to meet them for stargazing again?” He is speaking a lot - well, relatively. It saddens you that his usual tone of endearment when he would speak to you is now missing. It’s like speaking to a stranger, but worse, a stranger who takes a stab at your heart after every word.

“At 9, so that’s in…” You raise your wrist to find your watch absent from where it usually sits on your wrist. Right, you had removed it before strawberry-picking so it doesn’t get dirty and left it on the coffee table. Just as you turn around to retrieve it, you are met with Taehyung slipping his robe off. Your eyes widen.

The fluffy material glides down his shoulders like he’s made of gold, revealing the sculpture of his upper body that you scarcely recognise because he never used to be this toned. You thank any higher power there is that he is wearing his boxers, but they do nothing to conceal the faintest V at his hips and the bulk of his thighs. He isn’t bursting with muscle, but body definitely more well-defined than you remember.

“Have you been working out?” It just slips out. You wish, as the heat floods to dizzy your mind, that you had the capability of holding your tongue for once in your life.

Taehyung hesitates, Adam’s apple bobbing at his jugular. That shy awkwardness returns when your eyes meet. “Yeah. I mean a little, here and there…” Self-consciously, he brings his arm across his chest to rub at his bicep, but the gesture only flexes the muscle he has gained.

Your knees feel slightly weak. It’s the lack of dinner, you tell yourself. It’s not just your knees that feel weak though, your heart is thumping haphazardly into arrhythmia.

“But you hate exercise.” The stability in your voice surprises you.

“Yeah I did, but Seojoon said it’d help me take my mind off… things.” Lip between his teeth, Taehyung searches around for a top. Sheepishness in the form of a soft pink tint on his round cheeks turns you soft.

‘Things’, meaning you.

When you realise you’ve been staring, you immediately look down, fingers fiddling with each other like you’re some virgin freshly exposed to the spectacle of the male body. You’re anything but yourself, and so is he. Taehyung exercising? You almost scoff.

“You don’t have to… You’ve seen me naked, you know.” Taehyung mumbles, finally locating the sweatshirt he intends to wear. When you hear him pull it over himself, you sag in relief, the immense weight that his starkness strangely bestowed on you finally alleviated.

“Yeah, but it’s different now.” Now that we’re not together anymore. Not that we were ever together.

You know he feels it too, the sting of those words. The hurt in his eyes fill you with a sort of bitter self-resentment that you cannot wrap your head around. Stop looking at me like that. Stop making me feel like a bitch. Just stop hurting me.

“Yeah, it is.” But for some reason, it stings even more when he says it. His agreement should be a triumph, yet it feels more like the acknowledgement of the broken bridges between you.

When it comes from your mouth, it’s you convincing yourself more than anything. When it comes from his, it sounds like the truth.

.

Of the many things that are slowly killing Taehyung this weekend, the painfully awkward silence is among the most unbearable. It’s the loud kind of silence that he hates where there is clearly so much to say to each other yet none of it is coming out. There’s a vast ocean between you, roaring waves engulfing any sort of message he wishes to communicate.

This has to be one of the strangest experiences of his life - being set up by your friend on a couple’s trip to a resort disguised as a strawberry farm for Valentine’s day with you - and he has experienced a lot of weird shit in his life.

To be honest, he hasn’t been doing so great the past few weeks.

All the anger and bitterness had taken two days to melt away into miserable wretchedness. Two days, that’s all it took for him to not be angry with you anymore because there was one person he was angrier at - himself.

Because Taehyung was quick to realise that losing you is miles, miles, worse than what you had done to him. It was a sudden sort of realisation, the kind that hits you in the middle of doing something. What had he done?

The way he yelled at you, the things he said. His chest always sinks at the rememberance.

You didn’t know it was Jimin, you truly didn’t. But he exploded on you nonetheless, impermeable to your explanation. That wasn’t him. That raging bellowing man wasn’t him. If only he had just calmed down and talked it through with you, maybe he wouldn’t have been sleeping alone in your bed that your scent still clung on to.

And when he thinks about how you had heard him with that girl from the club, the bar, wherever his inebriated state took him that he doesn’t even remember…

Taehyung regrets everything.

How you got to this point was so extremely stupid. He should have just confessed to you, simple and easy, no complications needed. You are a commitment-phobe, he always knew he’d have to be the one to say it first. So why didn’t he? What the fuck was holding him back?

All he had to say was to not go on that date with Junho. That’s all you wanted. Why why why didn’t he just say how he felt?

Taehyung never knew himself to be a crier before this. He had shed a tear or two when he found out about Ryujin’s cheating and his friends’ betrayal; that was a stab in the back that left him gutted from the inside. Yet still, he got by, he survived because he found you. And he had naively thought, I managed to bear through this so nothing can really be worse than this now can it?

It can, and it did.

Once it starts, it won’t stop. The tears. A great tempest swallowing him whole and dragging him under until all he could hear was his own pounding heart. It is always before bed, when he would have the time to himself to truly think and reflect. But sometimes it comes during the day as well. He will be doing something as mundane as washing his hair in the shower, and he would suddenly break down because you had left him your shampoo that you would always get annoyed at him for using.

The house just feels empty. The absence of your voice, your warmth, your lips pressed on his neck every morning before his eyes even fully opened. Gone.

Yet, every corner is etched with the memories you share, your ghost lingering by the sofa that you adore whenever he’s watching TV, or curled up beside him every night in bed. It’s impossible to forget you.

Even as Seojoon moved in to fill your vacated room and help with the rent, the place was cold. It will never be the same because nothing could ever replace you. Everything he had and cherished - swept away just like that by none other than his own mistakes.

Yes, you had hurt him a lot. At the time, that pain felt insurmountable, like the worst thing you could ever do to him. But ultimately, upon the endless nights of thinking, he has realised that what hurt him the most was not you, but losing you. Not Jimin, not Junho, but how what could have been between you two fell apart so quickly by the poor choices you both made.

“Now if you look up to your left, you might be able to see one of our February constellations, the Pictor.” Jae announces, voice full of an enthusiasm that Taehyung could only envy as he guides the tour group towards the centre of a large plain field behind the hotel where you will all be stargazing. It is a lovely, breezy, cloudless night. You are several paces ahead of Taehyung, keenly reading the constellation manual leaflet lit up by your phone; he knows just how much of an astronomy geek you are. “It consists of four stars, as shown on your Star Guide, that are actually very dim and usually not easily spotted. The name Pictor means the Painter’s easel.”

Taehyung stops. Despite the darkness, he sees your shoulders tense too.

The easel you had gifted him on his birthday sits in his closet, stowed away from being a constant reminder of how much you loved him and how much he should have held on. It just sits there, collecting dust, untouched since the day you left.

The halt in Jae’s walking indicates your arrival to the intended location. “Here we are. Let’s settle down, love birds. I’ll set up this gorgeous telescope for anyone who wants to explore the sky in greater focus which I highly recommend.”

Spreading across the field, the group unrolls the picnic blankets you’ve all been given, dropping down to rest atop the covered grass.

No time is wasted from everyone else to snuggle up to their boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives. The atmosphere is sickly, even for Taehyung. The couples around him have done little to hide their affection for each other since the beginning of the trip. It is a romantic vacation after all, but is it really so necessary to display your love so publicly?

You stand static and poker-faced on the other side of the mat, clear signs of reluctance to participate plastered all over you.

Taehyung has never stargazed before, let alone in this context. The stiffness in your movement as you sink down onto your knees and lie down in discomfort makes him wince. He realises now that neither of you have a choice but to put away any ill feelings and lay beside each other.

As he gets down next to you, his head nearly tumbles out his chest at the sudden proximity that he has grown so unused to. In the dark, your scent washes up to him like a timid tide lapping at the shore, hair swaying off your shoulders as you get onto your back. The size of the mat does not permit him elsewhere other than immediately beside you, no more than five inches from touching shoulders. Five inches from touching.

Truthbetold, Taehyung feels himself going insane. It started from the moment he saw you on the bus, your wide eyes, parted lips, so pretty despite the look of terror you wore. He didn’t think he would have the chance to see you any time soon. He hadn’t truly comprehended the magnitude at which he missed you until he saw you again.

And he has been spiralling since. Every gesture making his senses scream in agony, the desire to just talk to you mangling at him. He misses you like crazy. Not necessarily in that way, but just your presence, your funny comments, your feign annoyance when he annoys you. He misses the companionship.

You are both on your back now, the blanket feeling either slightly damp or too cold for comfort. The star-speckled sky hanging above you both is endless, a panoramic painting from east to west. You stare at the sky like it’s your lover, so Taehyung does the same. Astronomy doesn’t interest him as much as the meaning and purpose behind the act of stargazing. The people he’s with and the memories he makes.

Wordless, you stare at the sky, ignorant to his presence. The soft hum of everyone else’s whispers accentuates that frustrating silence between you. Taehyung is so fucking tired of the silence because he’s bursting with things to say to you, to ask you.

“Are we just not going to speak?”

His question startles you for you almost, almost, turn to look at him. The slight angling of your head before you catch yourself does not go unmissed by him.

“What do you want to speak about?” Taehyung hates the coldness in your voice. The unfeeling sounds so real. Why are you being this way? Do you seriously want nothing to do with him? That possibility scares him above all else.

Someone giggles a few yards from you two. On this large grassland, the couples are dispersed in their own little bubble of sweet affection, but not enough for his ears to not pick up these little sounds that send courses of envy through his vessel.

“What do you think?” The four weeks you spent apart were four weeks of lamenting over all the things he should have said, and all that he shouldn’t. And Taehyung’s is done with regretting unspoken words. He just wants to get everything out in the open, out of his system, so he can move on.

“I mean-”

“Look, Y/N. This is stupid, the whole ignoring each other thing. Don’t you just want to say your piece and get that weight off your chest?” In the distance, crickets chirp faintly. The discomfort shuddering in the five-inch area between your shoulders is screaming volumes. Taehyung doesn’t turn away from the sky for the fear of the expression he would see you wear.

He expects a note of irritation in your voice, for you to start arguing with him which he truthfully doesn’t mind because that is at least progress. But instead he gets a quiet defeat. “I don’t want to reopen wounds that are already ripping open, Taehyung.”

It wrenches his soul, truly. He doesn’t recognise you when you speak anymore, both with the things you say, and the way you say it. “Talking will help it heal.” Because that’s both your final goals here - to heal, to be cured of the ailment that is heartbreak.

“How exactly is it going to change anything?”

“I don’t know. We’ve had time to calm down and think and I think we should have some closure so we end on a good note.”

It’s funny now, how Taehyung is the one pleading to speak to you when he should be the one who’s angry at you because you were the one to commit the last and biggest fault. He doesn’t see it like that though, that’s all in the past. To be friends with you again, that’s all he wishes for, he doesn’t care about anything else at this point.

“So this is about amicability to you? You want to end on good terms.” Neither of you still dare to look at the other, eyes locked on the stars but somewhere distant.

“Well, yeah. Do you not?” He asks. He hadn’t expected you to be this uneasy, he thought you would have liked the idea of peace amongst you. “Everything towards the end happened so quickly, wouldn’t you like some closure?

“I would rather take my time and heal in my own way. To be honest, I don’t have anything to say to you about that topic except that I’m sorry, but I’m sure you’re sick of hearing that. It’s pointless.”

You’re coping with this differently, Taehyung understands. But it doesn’t take much effort to be pleasant towards each other, to smile and greet each other like normal people instead of scrambling away from every eye contact. How do you suppose you’d be able to move on like that?

“So not even friends right now?” He tries one last time. A soft breeze washes over you, wafting your scent towards him.

“No, I don’t want to be friends right now.”

Your bluntness stings. Taehyung finally gives in and turns to face you. Your striking profile greets him, your eyes still stubbornly glued to the sky. Your unwillingness to budge or compromise even a little bit is frustrating.

“We were best friends for the past two and a half years. More than best friends, we were literally two peas in a pod; we lived together, ate together, studied together, slept together. And now we don’t even talk. You’re okay with losing that? You’re telling me that I’m the only one who misses it more than anything else?” His angry whisper sounds ridiculous as he tries to keep his volume down, conscious of the setting he’s in.

But then he sees you blink, hard. Then blink again. Your pursed lip trembles. Another two consecutive blinks. When you look at him, your eyes are so glassy that they reflect the entirety of the galaxy above. “How am I supposed to be your friend right now when I can’t even look at you without feeling this great pang of sadness every time?” Taehyung immediately wishes he hadn’t pushed you.

“I… just would rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you at all.” His voice softens to a tone more apologetic. He is the reason for the tears you’re holding back right now and he despises it.

“I would rather not have you in my life at all while I slowly get over you than have you as just a friend because my heart can’t take this constant torture. I just want to be over you but I can’t do that if I have to pretend to be okay around you. And I just don’t get it Taehyung. How are you so willing to be friends again? After what I did, how could you look at me and not hate me?”

Taehyung frowns at you because he doesn’t see how you can’t understand it’s not about that anymore. It’s not about the blame, the who did what to who. He doesn’t care anymore but the fact that you do is alarming. You still can’t let it go.

“Okay, so is this about you not forgiving yourself?” He prods, and watches the brief flash of confusion on your face.

“I-” You’re quick to dispute but stop. Because it’s the truth.

A long silence ensures. You stare at the collar of his sweatshirt, zoned out. Taehyung knows you’re in deep contemplation, you know his points have strong grounds. There is no reason for hostility or callousness between you because it would only hurt each other more.

“Look,” He takes a deep breath. “I just think that it’s unhealthy for you to act like this. You’re burying and burying what you’re feeling without actually facing it. Trying to be friends is a good first step in accepting that we’re not together anymore; being cold to each other isn’t. Think about it.”

Another long pause. He watches you blink, watches your chest rise and fall at every breath.

“I understand your point, I know my coping mechanism isn’t healthy but it’s all that I know right now. We’re different, we’re hurting differently and healing differently. I’m sorry for acting out on you when it’s myself who I want to punish. But I seriously don’t have the strength to be your friend right now, I wish I did but I really don’t. Just give me time.” The fact that you’re not arguing with him says a lot; you have both matured from this experience. It’s sad that this is what it took for you to do so.

“Okay. I respect that.” Taehyung says. “I’m sorry for pushing this onto you, it’s selfish of me, sorry. I just… I don’t know, I guess I’m pathetic. You were my best friend and I want to salvage it as much as I can. I just miss you, that’s all.”

You don’t say anything, but Taehyung is okay with that. Because he knows you miss him too, you miss the friendship, the having each other to lean on.

The difference between you and him is that you can’t compartmentalise your lingering feelings for him and put that aside right now, whereas he can. You need to rid those feelings before you can be his friend, and he’s okay with that.

He stares at Pictor, it’s four weak stars that dim beside much brighter constellations yet somehow call to him. And he almost smiles.

.

You stare at your own reflection in the mirror.

That conversation with Taehyung resonates with you more than you’d care to let on. You let every single word he said sink in, your inner turmoil contemplating the points he made. Because he definitely has a point.

What resonates with you most is the word closure.

He’s right, everything between you ended so quickly that there was no time to process and accept it until it was already over. Maybe that’s why you’re finding it so hard to let go. If you were to be friends again, you could at least normalise his presence and gradually move past this.

Twisting the faucet on, you splash some water on your face to clear this dilemma from your head. And after wiping yourself dry, you exit the bathroom into your room with a great sigh.

Taehyung is wearing the grey hoodie - that’s the first thing you notice. As in the grey hoodie you would always claim as your own because of how soft its material is. The grey hoodie that you regret giving back to him. The grey hoodie that he would always wear when you guys gamed at midnight and it would always end with you on his lap, his locks tangled in your fingers while his mouth explored yours.

You take it back, fuck being friends, you’re back to square one.

He glances up in the dark, eyes surveying your silhouette from head to toe as he places a pillow on one end of the couch. Ever since that conversation, there’s the most subtle difference in his permanent expression - his lips look inclined to smile, his eyes hold an understanding for you that makes you feel vulnerable.

And, god, it makes you want to try. He deserves it, to have his best friend back in his life even if that best friend is you, the person he trusted the most in the world only to turn around and impale him in the chest with those stupid decisions of yours.

The omnipresence of your awkwardness hasn’t faltered though. “Taehyung, I said I would take the couch.” You protest, though you’re starting to see that it’s futile. You may be the more stubborn one between the pair, but there are certain things that Taehyung would never back down from.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, Y/N.” The corner of his lip turns up properly now, like he’s silently snickering at a joke he thought of. “That’s just - not gonna happen.”

“What’s so funny?” Switching the bathroom lights off behind you, you ask. You hadn’t packed well for this trip, you are only in a flimsy camisole and a pair of sweats, the cold air coaxes goosebumps on your skin. His gaze follows you as you draw the curtains shut over the glass wall, leaving only a strip of moonlight streaming in.

“Nothing.” Taehyung places both hands on the top of his head, an action that causes his hoodie to slightly ride up his torso. You fix your eyes on the floor as you approach him and the sofa. “It’s just funny how you think I’d ever let you sleep on the couch while I sleep on the bed.”

There is a dead end down this path you’re going, neither of you would let the other win. So you simply ignore him and situate yourself on the couch, stretching your legs to span it wholly. “Good night.” Fixing the pillow he had placed, you shut your eyes.

“What, no.” You can hear the smile wipe off his face, almost making you chuckle out loud. “Y/N, get up.” Hastily he hovers over you. But when you show no sign of acknowledgement, he shuffles away. A moment later, you feel a great gust of air, then the softest silkiest duvet landing over you.

Your eyes fly open. And there Taehyung stands with his arms crossed smugly. “If you take the couch, you also take the covers.”

“No! You’ll be cold.”

“You’ll be cold. You’re not wearing enough.”

You give up. “Oh, for god’s sake, Taehyung. Fine. Let’s both sleep on the bed, okay?” His entire expression dilates. He doesn’t even blink as you get off the couch and cross your arms back at him. “Problem solved.”

Taking his wrist in one hand, dragging the plush duvet in the other, you walk to the bed and sit him down. No noise of protest emits from him, so you go back to retrieve the pillow from the couch in a huff.

“Are you sure?” His voice is suddenly timid, unsure. And he’s right to be so, because you’re quaking on the inside as well at the prospect of sleeping beside him.

It’s not going to be good for your heart, you know that definitely. But like he said, you need to face this. If you touch a paper cut enough times, it stops hurting. “It’s just sleeping, it’s no big deal.” You lie. “You want to be friends right? Well let’s start with this. Let’s stop being stupid and childish.” You can’t look him in the eye as you rearrange the bedding back to its original state before Taehyung messed it up.

His reply merely a quiet yeah… before you both hesitantly crawl under the covers and tuck in. Heat flushes to your face as you do so because the action feels so familiar, yet everything about it is different.

Absolute silence. Backs facing each other. An arm's length or two between you but it feels like more. You don’t even shut your eyes because why pretend that you’ll fall asleep?

Your own palpitation is so vigorous that it’s audible. The thoughts whizzing around in your head are unstoppable, a persistent prodding at your skull. His scent is strong, that sweet honey musk that used to seduce you to sleep now the very thing that’s keeping you up.

It must be, what, ten? twenty minutes? of just laying there as you ponder your future with Taehyung, if you want a future at all. He’s right, you miss his friendship above all else. As much as you love Lotta, there is an intangible quality missing between you, that extra spark that existed between Taehyung which boosted your dynamic up to an incomparable level. You understood each other without having to speak, care about each other more than yourselves - that love was almost familial. Losing that has been too much.

Then you hear Taehyung shift onto his back. “Y/N?” Your heart skips a beat.

“Yeah?” You answer after a pause, mind racing through all the possibilities of what he could say. You hate this permanent uncertainty of what he’s thinking.

Silence follows for a short while, the endless possibility of what he’s going to say flooding your mind. Then, “You know how I can’t sleep without holding something?”

You stop breathing.

Because you see very clearly where this is going, and it’s down a road that you don’t know if you can withstand.

He can’t sleep without holding you. Holding you.

You take a deep breath and clamp down on your lip, grateful that your back is facing him so he can’t see the pathetic weakness on your face. Can you do this?

Can you do this without wanting to cry? Can you do this without succumbing to your momentary desire to just turn around and kiss him because you won’t be able to think straight with his arms around you? You’re really not sure.

“Yes…?”

“Can I…” Something rustles the covers, perhaps his arm, or maybe he’s inching closer. In the pitch black night, every movement feels amplified, more impactful. “You know…”

“Can you what?” You’re not being difficult, you’re giving him the chance to take back on this request. To just say nevermind and turn back around. Because you’re not equipped for his touch; you don’t want it, you don’t want the pain that comes with it.

Another pause. Take the chance, please. But his deep hesitant voice sounds in the dark, “Can I hold you please?”

You shut your eyes. That feeling in your nose again, that rush. Hold it in, don’t cry, stupid emotional bitch, don’t cry. What’s there to cry about? You wonder if this torment will end, and you wonder if you could ever stop feeling this much for him.

“I swear I’m not trying anything, I genuinely can’t sleep.” His voice has a way of penetrating deep into your bones, begging you even if it’s not his intention to.

You could say no, right? Just say no.

But that isn’t facing it, that isn’t overcoming your heartbreak. If your goal of this trip is to come out of this weekend completely devoid of feelings for him, then you need to let him stop affecting you.

“Okay. Please don’t make it weird.” You whisper, not daring to move a muscle.

Taehyung sags in relief, the bed dipping with his weight. “I won’t, I promise.” The sound of him shuffling closer to you constricts your throat. You close your eyes, awaiting the warmth of his front to meet your back, counting down in your head for that dreaded moment to come. “Come closer.” He murmurs.

When his hand fits around your waist, you know it’s an act of unconscious habit rather than intent. Slowly, he drags you into the enclosure of his chest, his scent and heat enshrouding you until you are completely engulfed by him.

He exhales, the fingertips of his breath caressing your hair ever so gently.

Every fibre in your body is tensing, eyes firmly shut and toes curled inwards. His hand feels enormous on your waist, holding you the only way he has ever known how to. With a unique type of affection that is so pure and devoted, yet also with a hint of protectiveness and possession.

Taehyung lets go of your waist only to encircle his arms around you entirely, his legs curling up under yours until you’re both cocooned together.

“You okay?” The back of your neck feels tender, sensual even, from the tickling heat of his breath. You’re too keenly aware of how close your heads are positioned, of the searing sensations that his hands are causing.

No, you’re not okay. Your skin has been lit on fire. Memories that you’ve long since tried to bury are surging back at full force, slamming into you one after the other. He’s too close, he’s everywhere. There is no distance separating you right now, yet you still feel miles away from him; you can’t comprehend his intentions nor decipher his thoughts. The fit of the crook of your back into his chest is perfect, a heartbreaking kind of perfect. This feels so so familiar. This is exactly what you had yearned and dreamt for every night for the past month - to be in his arms again. So why does it hurt even more than being alone?

Instead, you nod, “Mmm, yeah.”

A compulsion is yanking at you to lean back into him.

Taehyung exhales again and rests his cheek on the back of your shoulder where he always used to perch. If you were naked right now, he would be speckling this shoulder with soft dainty petal kisses. You hate that there is still a part of you, and mind you a very significant part, that wants it.

Your hands are inches away from touching each other; just one lift of your wrist and your fingers can clasp. The urge indunates you.

It would be so easy right now to just succumb - let your hand crawl into his because you know he would hold it, turn around and start kissing up his jaw until your tongues are tangled. You think it’s purely physical, these impulses, at least that’s what you want them to be. You just miss the intimacy, that’s all. But then why does it feel like you’ve swallowed a kaleidoscope of butterflies? Except their wings are made of glass, and everytime they flutter, you feel the shards scratch along your insides. There is desire laced in the pain. You don’t know which one is worse.

What baffles you the most is how he is alright with this, how he initiated this. He said he wants to at least be your friend, but this surely feels like a breach of friendship to anyone. Holding each other in bed is not being friends. But then again, you both have always had a warped perception of what friends should be doing.

You don’t understand how it’s so different for him. How the areas where you are touching, even if separated by layers of clothes, doesn’t tear through his sanity. If he doesn’t feel the same crack in his heart, then what does he feel?

With every heavy breath he takes, you take a silent one, eyes shut and praying to be swept away by the sleep that you don’t believe will reach you. You haven’t slept well since that night. Taehyung, on the other hand, you know is instantly sound asleep. It never used to take him more than five minutes as long as you were in his clutch.

But then, maybe there is a soothing essence in his presence with his overwhelming pleasant scent and rhythmic breathing, or maybe you’ve just exhausted your body with constant overthinking, a hazy fog drifts over your consciousness. You’re so tired, physically and mentally drained... And Taehyung feels so warm and snug around you...

The last thought you have before you drift off into reverie is that you feel his fingers slide between yours, holding not firmly but with intent. And you don’t know if it was you or him who moved it so.

You wake up from the damp heat gathered in all your crevices, the thin coat of sweat mildly irritating your skin. You are facing the glass door to the patio, and though the curtains conceal much of the windows, strips of sunlight topple past the cracks and unfurl into your room.

Taehyung’s arm is around you. Still.

After these years of living together, you know everything about Taehyung like that back of your hand. You can tell whether he’s awake or not from his breathing. And he’s most definitely asleep, though only lightly.

You look down and examine your position. In the course of the night, his forearm has travelled progressively higher until it is just about cradling your breasts. One of his legs is thrown over yours, entrapping you in his embrace. In his tangle of limbs, you slowly try to twist onto your back while prying him off.

He stirs, pulls you in tighter.

Which lands your rear in the unfortunate position of right atop his crotch. His crotch that is very much awake and way too excited.

Lethargy immediately expelled, your eyes open wide.

Morning wood is a usual occurrence for Taehyung, especially after a night of merciless teasing, but randomly a lot of the times. You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, nor aroused. He has mentioned before how uncomfortable it can be, a blaring hard presence, a sore tension waking him up in an unforgiving manner. Which means that he can precariously wake any second n-

“Mmmm.” Voice an octave deeper than its norm, he hums, announcing his returning consciousness.

Taehyung’s morning wood and morning voice. You are being tested right now.

Your concupiscence has been gradually building up in the last few weeks from the lack of any sexual activity save for your own fingers and toys. It’s human nature, and completely goes against your will - but you feel the old friend that goes by the name lust stirring at the pit of your stomach.

At your proximity, the tip of his member digs deep between your cheeks, prodding at your entrance incontestably. Your whole body stiffens as the slowly waking Taehyung nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck habitually, arm tensing around you. Ever so slowly, you look back to steal a glance. His wildly curly hair falls over his forehead gracefully, lashes fanned out from his closed lids. He’s too beautiful for his own good.

Your core dampens and you quickly turn back around.

Fuck, please, no. You can’t be thinking about him like that. It’s so wrong. But his erection burrowed between your ass is banishing any clarity or sense from your head.

But God, you fucking miss this.

You’re going mad from deprivation. The dry spell of the past month had been voluntary, on the basis that you knew it wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism because you would only picture Taehyung over the faces of those nameless men. And because you knew no one knows you as well as he does, thus no one will succeed in satisfying you as well as him. Your sex drive was non-existent right after the break-up; sex simply didn’t cross your mind once while you were nursing your broken heart. And then it came ebbing back, though faintly and infrequently, you regained your libido and would find yourself fantasising on some lonesome nights.

But now, the situation at hand is that: you’ve allowed Taehyung to cuddle you in his sleep and you’ve consequently woken up to his undeniably hard cock poking between your legs. And he is seconds away from fully waking up as well.

So what now?

“Taehyung.” You say firmly, pushing his arm away from your breasts. It’s best if you call him out for it now rather than let it hang awkwardly in the air unsaid.

“Hmmmm..?” He rumbles sleepily. You don’t have to turn around to be able to envision his face, eyes slowly blinking open but reluctant as ever, true to his deep sleeper title.

“Taehyung.” This time you nudge back gently for emphasis. What it achieves is additional friction. Your whole lower half achse to grind back onto him, to slide over his hardened cock, to reach back and pump it in your hands.

Fuck.

You can’t.

You could, so easily, but you shouldn’t. You and Taehyung are completely over in every sense of your relationship. You can’t let this moment of weakness strip away all your efforts in moving on.

“Wha…” He mumbles, finally peeling his arm off you to stretch out. A loud yawn ensues. You take the opportunity of his loosened hold around you to twist back and pin him with a glare, hoping that your thirst is masked.

“You’re hard.”

Eyes still puffy, he stops mid-stretch at those two words. And looks down.

Did he… not notice? Or did he, in his morning hazy, momentarily get the situation confused and forget that you weren’t together?

Taehyung scrambles away from you so abruptly that he almost falls off the bed. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t- It just- I can’t control it, Y/N, you know I can’t.” His stammering is followed by his jerky movements to readjust his bulge as discreetly as one can allow in such situation. The detonation of terror on his face exacerbates your embarrassment. Because you simply don’t know what to do with yourself - with your core tingling in arousal simultaneously as your brow twitches in annoyance. When your vexed eyes meet his, you see another wave of panic crash onto him.

How did you get in this situation in the first place? If only you had just slept on the couch last night…

“Yeah, I know, stop reacting like that. Don’t make it weirder than it already is.” You berate, yanking the covers with all your strength over your shoulder and roll away from him. The distance is more for your own good. You can’t be near him right now, you can’t think about his fucking cock slipping into you.

You want to fuck. You want to fuck Taehy-

Stop that fucking thought.

“I’m sorry.” His morning voice, oh god. Burying your face into the pillow does little against the fluid pooling in your panties.

“Can you go to the toilet and… fix yourself.” When the words leave your mouth, the imagery of him fixing himself flashes before your eyes. And something pulses violently down there. Fucking fuck.

“Um, okay, sorry.” You try to not peek at him as he gets up from the bed, slightly limping as he makes his way to the toilet. But you succumb nonetheless.

His cheeks are scarlet, veins bulging on the side of his forehead, and you’re not sure if it’s from his embarrassment or the discomfort of the boner. Your eyes drop from his profile because his morning face has always been one of your weaknesses, except unfortunately for you, your eyes land on his bulge.

Another pulse down there.

You hate yourself. You feel dirty for even thinking about him like that because it’s so wrong. But then again, he’s probably thinking about you like that as well, hence the raging erection.

When the bathroom door shuts behind him, you let out a sigh. You don’t know how long you can keep hold of your sanity for like this. You’re swimming in a sea of confusing emotions: the constant melancholy you have of missing him and missing the way things were before you had fucked it up; the desperation to move on and understand that he was only a chapter of your life that is now closed; the bitter resentment that you have for yourself as a consequence of not being able to do so; and now the inescapable desire aching between your thighs because of how inherent these memories are of how he would fuck you until you cry like nobody else could.

What doesn’t help is the hint of a slow pumping rhythm from the toilet, and Taehyung’s ragged breathing.

Fuck.

You don’t want to think about how he’s jerking off on the other side of the wall right now, gripping his cock as he leans against the sink, head thrown back. But that’s exactly what you’re thinking about.

Is he thinking of you as he’s doing it? You’re not sure if you want him to, because while you wish he wouldn’t, you also hope that this lust you feel is reciprocated still, that you’re not the only one going crazy with arousal.

Your hand almost trails down to your core when his pace quickens, but his sharp inhale strikes at your inner righteousness. You stop, sit up and rush out to the patio for some fresh air.

Happy Valentine’s Sunday indeed.

.

The dough feels sticky in your hand despite the layers of flour you’ve doused your fingertips in. Baking has never been your forte, you simply don’t have the patience or precision for such a crafty hobby. You glance over to check on Taehyung’s progress at the other half of the counter.

He has the easy job. Of course, when it came to allocating roles between the pair of you in this baking session, the jam-making landed on him because there’s no way he would succeed in making the strawberry tart.

You can’t help but smile at the way his lips are puckered and brows drawn in concentration as he chops the berries as finely as he could. But the way the top half of his hair is pulled back into a little sprout of a ponytail… You gulp.

Neither of you have spoken a word of this morning’s awkward event; it had been a tacit agreement not to as soon as you made eye contact when he stepped out of the bathroom. It has set a lewd tone for the rest of your day. At every blank moment where your mind isn’t preoccupied, especially when you’re doing something as frivolous and kneading dough, your thoughts would wander to the memories of his warm rigid-

You stop yourself. You’re in public and he’s chopping strawberries right next to you.

You’ve noticed how, every time you’d have those sinful thoughts, your mood would lighten a little. The pang in your heart that used to always plague you would profoundly diminish. Of all things, of course sex is what eases your sadness the most, that’s just so characterisitic of you isn’t it?

“Is everything going well?” One of the baking assistants comes over to your counter for the seventh time now (yes you’re counting). She is a petite, rather pretty, pleasant looking girl. And you have not failed to notice how every time she checks up on you two, her attention is always solely on Taehyung. Here you are struggling with your asscheek of dough yet she only cares to ask how Taehyung, the strawberry chopper, fares?

“Yup.” Taehyung spares her a brief glance before dumping the diced pieces of fruit into the saucepan.

“Would you like some more flour?” You almost scoff out loud. You’re the one working with flour over here! Why is she asking him?

“No, thanks.” He doesn’t look up this time.

The assistant smiles to herself as if he’d said something particularly sweet to her. Until her eyes land on you. “Uh- What about you, ma’am?”

“All.” You land a punch on the buttery dough, death glare and all. “Good.” Another punch. Eyes not once wavering. She has the brains to scramble away.

You don’t have the right to assert this sort of possessiveness over Taehyung. But it’s the principle. This is a couple’s romantic holiday; she must be under the presumption that you and Taehyung are together, so how does she still dare to ogle over him like that?

“She’s flirting with you.” You rumble when she’s out of earshot.

Taehyung looks up at you from stirring his jam mixture, his lips still slightly pouted from his focus. “What? Who?”

“That baking assistant who came over just now.” You grit, trying to suppress this irrational vexation.

“Oh. Really?” Clueless, he scans across the room. “Was that the blonde or the brunette one?”

It’s a relief how truly oblivious he is that you don’t bother answering his question. It’s also completely unlike him. Since when did Kim Taehyung not notice when a girl takes interest in him? How fascinating must those strawberries be to capture his undivided attention like that?

“Would you like some flour?” You mimic, batting your lashes at him.

A wide grin spreads across his cheeks. To be honest, you don’t know what prompted you to display such friendliness to him all of a sudden. Perhaps what happened this morning, or even the fact that you slept on the same bed last night, breached one of the walls towering between you. It’s progress.

“You’ve got flour on your face.”

Fuck, again? You need to stop handling stuff like dirt and flour because they keep ending up on your face. “Ugh.” You huff, trying to let the embarrassment brush off. “Where?”

From the mischievous smirk that his grin morphed into, you should’ve known. Before you could suspect, Taehyung dabs one of his fingers into a small pile of flour and smears it down your cheek. “There.”

“You-!” You gasp, your own finger already caked in flour flying for a counter attack at his face.

But his reflexes are fast as he catches your wrist in lightning speed and tugs you towards him, his other hand simultaneously slathering another streak of white down the bridge of your nose. You tumble into him, foolish grin on your face as you twist your wrist out of his grip and manage to smear your floury thumb onto his chin.

Taehyung catches you before you could trip over your feet, smiling so wide for the first time this weekend that you can’t help but giggle. His grip on your waist feels warm. You’re close enough that you have to crane your neck to see him, close enough to see the individual hairs of his brows.

Yes, something has definitely shifted since last night.

The desire is a flame, devouring all your other senses until all you can focus on is his touch, his molten chocolate eyes, his tongue swiping out to wet his lips. You just want to…

Kiss him.

You admit it, you want to kiss him so fucking badly.

Ignition in his eyes, he stares at your lips too, smile slowly faltering. The hammering of your spastic heart cancels out all other noise in the room; you don’t see anything else except him. He doesn’t move, and neither do you. That lustful monster in your mind screams, Damn the consequences. Just kiss. Fuck being friends and fuck being strangers. Kiss him.

“Alright, lovebirds over there. These pastries won’t make themselves. Let’s get cracking!” Both of you jump and the sound of the head chef calling.

A bucket of ice cold water showers over you, extinguishing that prosperous flame. And reality materialises once again around you.

Not just the physical reality, but the reality of your situation as well - you can’t, you shouldn’t be acting like this around each other. There’s being friends, and then there’s this. The line is fine, it has always been.

It’s difficult to separate the weeds of these conglomerated emotions. You miss each other, want to kiss each other. You want the hurting to end, he wants to be friends. Your break up had been too messy for either of you to have a clear vision of what you need to do to overcome this.

Except maybe there is a cure-all solution to this.

You return to your ball of dough as Taehyung goes back to stirring his boiling jam. Yet your attention is now scattered, because a seed of an idea, most probably a very bad one, has been sown in your head.

.

It is most definitely a reckless idea, one that has the potential of going very south.

You bring it up during dinner, the supposed “romantic candlelit dinner with a string quartet” which neither of you are remotely dressed well enough for. “Taehyung, you know how you talked about closure and all that yesterday?”

Taehyung pauses, forkful of tenderloin steak stopped in midair. “Yeah..?” The hope in his voice is infused with an uncertain hesitation.

“I think we should have sex. One last time. For closure.”

The violin strikes a particularly high pitch in the background. Taehyung doesn’t move a hair for at least a good ten seconds before he blinks at you. This was definitely not what he’d anticipated from you, you can tell. But well, of course it isn’t. The idea surprised yourself.

“What? I think I heard something else, say that again?”

Oh boy. “No, you heard it right. I said I think we should sleep together for closure.” You sound unsteady to your own ears. “Release all this pent up sexual frustration we have for each other one last time and then be done with this. You said you want to be friends, right? I actually think it’s going to work for me, I’ll be able to move on afterwards, I’m almost certain.”

Frowning, Taehyung puts his fork down. “Really…? You want to have sex?”

“Yes.” You’re not even going to be shy about it at this point. You weren’t sure how this scene was going to play out but you’d envisioned it to go much smoother than this. “Do you want to?”

“I mean…” Colour of wine stains his cheeks. “Yeah… But are you sure? You were just saying last night how you can’t look at me without hurting. Do you understand why this is confusing for me?”

“I know it sounds contradictory and counterproductive, but-” You halt when you realise that there is no but. You don’t know how to verbalise the explanation that convinced you in your head. “Look at it as break up sex. It’s a common thing because it works. Like you said, we ended so quickly, in a blink of an eye. Just see this as the closing chapter of our relationship. If you don’t want to do it, just say it. I just had to throw it out there.”

Worry drips down your throat when his blank expression remains unchanged - worry that you’ve made a fatally wrong move to make things irreparably awkward now, if he so wishes not to follow through with your suggestion.

But then he nods, ponderously and maybe not entirely convinced, but you’ll take it. “I think you have a point… The thing about closure and ending this better than we did the first time round.”

“So… You’re down.”

“Down.”

So, the rest of dinner flies by with the two of you wolfing down your meal as hastily as you can. The entire time, your mind is buzzing with a strange sort of excitement for you are confident that this is necessary in accelerating your process of recovery.

You and Taehyung started with sex, so naturally, you should end with sex.

If you are eating cookies from a jar and that jar is suddenly taken away from you, you would be overcome with a surge of anger and unjust. You will always remember that awful person who took it from you. But if you are told that the jar will be taken away and the cookie in your hand is the last one you can ever have, you will cherish this last cookie and take your time eating it. It would taste different from all the other cookies you’ve had in the past - better, sweeter, because you know that it’s the last one.

Taehyung is quiet, indecipherable as you stroll back to the room. You understand his doubt, you really do. Because a night ago, if he’d have offered you the same suggestion, you would’ve thought he’s insane. But after the incident this morning, and the sparse flirtation throughout the day, there is a clear indication of unresolved sexual tension on both ends.

End this once and for all with a bang.

“Are you really up for it, Taehyung?” You check one last time, swiping the keycard at the door. “If you’re not comfortable, then we shouldn’t.”

When you look back as you push open the door, you catch his eyes, filled with purpose and trust. “No, you’re right. We need the closure.”

As the door closes behind you after you enter, it feels final - your fate is sealed, this is happening. You both stop in the middle of the room, facing each other. Shoulders tense and fists clenched. The bed has been made from this morning, a strawberry gift basket sitting on the coffee table in the corner of your eye.

Your breath feels shaky.

“So…”

“So…”

His throat is trembling too.

You break into a smile at how pathetic you’ve both become around each other, and once you do, Taehyung observably loosens up. “What are we being so nervous for?”

He smiles too, and takes a step towards you. “I don’t know.”

Bittersweet. It’s the best way to describe how you feel right now. Because this is it.

“Do you want to get in the hot tub? It feels like a waste if we don’t use it before we go. It’s our last night here.” The buzzing beneath your skin grows as you ask, and a spark lights up in his eyes at your idea.

“Say no more.” He presses a kiss on your forehead. It’s utterly out of the blue and fleeting, but enough to make your heart leap, both from the bewilderment and the knowledge that this will be one of your last acts of affection.

Taehyung walks past you towards the glass door, peeling off his shirt in the meantime to reveal the new tone of muscle on his back that he’s acquired in the past month. “I’m going to get some alcohol.” You maunder.

Your fingers are shaking as you rummage through the wine cooled for the drink you best see suitable. A strawberry champagne catches your eye. How fitting.

You can’t explain how jittery you feel as you completely strip off your clothes. This is the last time with Taehyung. The profound significance, the pressure, the emotions, tide after tide hitting you.

Two glasses of champagne in your hand, you inhale sharply, and let it all out.

This is it. This is the conclusive ending you asked for.

Warm water bubbling up to his chest, you find him seated in the hot tub awaiting you. The boxers discarded by the side implies that it was a last minute decision of his to go completely naked. And when he notices your nude form strutting out to the patio to join him, he sucks in. The way his eyes rake down your body then back up to your face sends flutters to you core, but also a nostalgic pang.

Eye contact does not break for a second as you climb into the hot tub and sit yourself adjacent to him. The chilly evening breeze with the heated effervescing water provides the perfect ambient temperature. Taehyung accepts the champagne you hand him, finger brushing over yours in a way that could only be intentional. He’s savouring every touch.

“To Mykonos, to the heatwave, to us and our last time.” You toast. The lump in your throat almost doesn’t permit the words to be said.

“To Mykonos, to the heatwave, to us and our last time.” He repeats after you. Clink. And down the drink goes.

A sigh, from both of you. The champagne is bittersweet, too. And you feel that surge behind your nose again, the sting behind your eyes.

“Isn’t it funny how the universe plays out?” Taehyung says, gaze falling to your lips, then your neck, then collar. He slides closer to you. “The first time we kissed was in water, the Mediterranean Sea. And now, the last time will be in water too.”

You don’t say anything for you need a moment to collect the tears. Then you place your glass on the edge of the tub and waddle through the water until you are perched on his lap. He receives you like you’re made of glass, gentle hands coming around your bare back to pull you down onto him. You brush away his dark untamed curls from his face, appreciating the thickness of his hair between your fingers because you don’t think you’ll get to touch it again. His hands trail low to the small of your back; you feel yourself brush up against his member, already hard and poised.

You want to tell him that you love him, that you will always always love him. But you know you would break if you say it.

So you just lean down to kiss him.

People like to describe their kisses like electricity, fire, a bolt of lightning striking down their spine. But for you, it really isn’t like that at all. When your lips meet, it feels like your first sip of cocoa on the first day of winter warm but not hot enough to burn, feels as though you’re interlocking fingers in a crowd of busy bodies and his thumb brushes over yours to tell you it’s okay, I’m right here and I won’t let go.

And you both pull away at the same time, a string of saliva between your mouths.

Because you both feel it, and it’s too much.

But this is the last time, you remind yourselves. Last time.

So your lips fall back onto him, fuelled by a passion you’ve never felt before. His mouth is velvet, fitting over yours so perfectly that it hurts. His hand finds your face, wet from being submerged, and he holds you more tenderly than he would an infant. Your chest is imploding from every ragged breath you take between hot kisses and you just let it.

Arousal pulling at your strings, your hand snakes down his front, dips into the water and wraps around his cock. “Ah…” Taehyung groans into your mouth. Your touch swipes across his tip. “Fuck, baby.”

Baby.

That is your undoing.

His teeth find your breasts, taking your nipple and teasing it until you’re whimpering in need. The roughness of his tongue tingles your sensitive bud so much that your eyes roll back and your vision is black and dotted with stars. The water providing you with a newfound ease, you pump him relentlessly, sitting up so you can slide his tip over your clit and along your folds. Because neither of you can wait, you’re cutting to the chase. Anything else can wait until subsequent rounds.

Every time his head brushes past your clit, a convulsion shoots up you. Your thighs quiver around him as he digs his fingers into the flesh of your ass. And when you inch by inch sink down onto his cock, the euphoric stretch in your walls numbs all other sensation.

You have missed this so much. It’s been so long.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” Taehyung’s voice is shaky, breath hitched.

“It’s ‘coz I haven’t…”

You don’t have to finish the sentence for him to understand and reply, “Me neither.”

The boost of reassurance and confidence that it grants you makes you roll your hips over his. From the absence of sex the past month, your cunt has grown unaccustomed to his size. Your entire core aches, but in the best way you could ask for. The water sloshes as you gain a steady rhythm. You have to bite down onto his ear to stop the volume at which you want to cry out because you remember that you are outdoors.

Taehyung’s face burrows into your neck, panting hard, but thrusting harder. You think back to every single one of your times together, from beginning to now. Your arms encircle tighter around him as you kiss the shell of his ear.

The initial pain in your walls is beginning to trickle away, leaving in its wake the claws of pleasure running up and down your body. Taehyung’s cock performs wonders on you that no one else can - it’s just a fact that you have to accept now. Nothing will compare.

Yet you can come to terms with it. You can gladly accept that Taehyung will be the best thing you’ll ever have.

But then you feel the dampness. At first, you mistaken it as droplets of water splattering onto you so you ignore it. And amidst you bouncing onto him, you don’t notice how Taehyung’s shoulders are shuddering.

You stop.

And feel the streaks of his tears running down your neck from where his face is pressed onto.

You can’t describe the shattering in your heart when you look down to find him crying into you. You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t even cry back at him.

It leaves you in wreckages, how he’s holding you close to him still, clinging on despite your how you’ve stopped, muffled sobs cracking out of this throat.

It takes a while for you to regain your voice, but his tears are still ceaseless. “Taehyung…”

When he looks up, you’re struck with another ammunition of distraught. The redness of his eyes, the sad distortion of his beautiful features, the endless endless tears...

“Y/N, I can’t. I really can’t.” His voice is hoarse, as if he’s been screaming silently.

“I-I’m sorry, you should’ve said. I’m so sorry I didn’t realise.” You’re stupefied from the horrendous sight of a completely broken Taehyung underneath you. You immediately climb off him.

“I-” He sniffs. “I love you so fucking much. I love you more than I love myself and I can only ever love you more each day.” You feel it again, the surge in your nose, the sting behind your eyes. You’re choked up, speechless, resenting yourself for putting him through this. You want to bury your head in the water and cry until you pass out. 

“Y/N, I didn’t ever want to lose you because I know I would lose myself. But then I lost you. And I lost myself.” His sobs strangle you by the throat.

“Taehyung, I’m sorry. About everything I’ve done. It’s all my fault and I will always hate myself for hurting you so much.” A single tear rolls down your face, you can’t hold it in anymore. Then a second, third. At the unstoppable oceans pouring from his eyes, you feel destroyed.

“I don’t even care about that! I’m not hurt by Junho or Jimin, I don’t care. Having to wake up every day knowing that you’re not beside me has been the most painful thing I’ve had to deal with. You are my home, Y/N. I don’t want to live in a life that you’re not a part of. I just can’t live without you and I can’t stand it. I can’t- I can’t...”

“Then don’t.”

Confusion draws his browns into a frown. “What?” His face is still warped in pain. You can’t stand it anymore either.

“Then don’t live without me.”

Your teeth dig into your lip to stop your own bawling.

All this conflict back and forth has taken such a toll on you and what for? At the end of the day, one unwavering fact stands true and untested: you love each other no matte what. So why should you let mistakes of the past keep you apart?

“What?” He says again, though understanding starts to seep through.

“I love you, Taehyung. I can’t not love you. I’m not myself if I don’t. So let’s stop this bullshit. I can’t live without you and you can’t live without me. So then let’s not leave each other again.”

You stare at each other, on this cool February night, warm water gurgling up to your collars, the cloudless night sky flaunting it’s collection of stars. And you promise to stay by each other for as long as you live.

“Okay.” That’s all Taehyung can muster.

“I’m yours, Taehyung. My heart is completely yours forever.” His violent flow of tears subside into gentle trickles.

“Okay.” He stands up in the tub, and you mirror his action. Water weeps off your skin, inviting the cold to infiltrate.

Nothing more needs to be said. Your mouths find each other the way they always do, the crashing of your lips, scraping of your teeth. A new tear rolls off Taehyung’s face and onto your fused lips, but it’s different this time. They’re tears of insuppressable joy, knowing that the taste of your tongue is entirely his, the porcelain of your skin is entirely his. You’re shivering from the temperature of the night, but you don’t feel the cold.

His hands come behind your thighs and lift you up to his face level, wrapping your legs around your torso the way he did in Mykonos. With careful steps, he carries you back into the room, past the bed, that poor couch that was collateral damage to your mutual pining, and sets you down onto the bathroom countertop.

When he finally breaks away from the kiss and takes in your beauty under the bright light of the room, there is no less than absolute adoration in his eyes. Never anything less. “I love you and I’m yours.”

Taehyung wraps the only massive white towel he can find around your wet naked body, disregarding the cold attacking his own. You frown at him, hooking him between your legs so you can fling the towel over his shoulders as well.

“I love you and I’m yours.” You say back, blotting his body dry. It’s such a simple statement, yet the meaning it holds for the two of you is so heavy. They’re the very words that you have never found the strength to say to each other, until now.

“Say that again.” You melt under his smile, not a single trace of worry to be found in your brain.

“I love you. And I’m yours.”

You twist your neck back to follow his glare at reflection in the mirror of your huddled bodies under the towel. Cheeks pushed up from glee, heads leaning against each other, and just like that - all your heartache vanishes without a trace.

“Mine?” Taehyung pecks your brow, still smiling.

“Yours.” Legs clamping around him tighter, you turn to face him. “And how are you this hard again already?” His cock’s ability to stay erect is astounding, truly.

“Don’t you know? You could breathe and my cock would be hard.” Laughter erupts both your chests and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

Allowing the towel to drop around you, your hand slips between your bodies to clutch onto his length. Responsiveness ripples through his toned abdomen. “I want to suck…” You nuzzle your nose to his, your breaths amalgamating.

Taehyung sighs into your mouth. “But I want to-” Your grip tightens around him as you drag out a pump, eyes wide with feign innocence. “Okay, what the fuck, that’s not fair.”

“You’ll get to do whatever you want to me after.” You trail your mouth along his jaw.

“F-Fine.”

He lets you slide off the marble counter with the skin of his neck pinched between your teeth. When he realises that you’re marking him in clouds of purple, his head falls back and gives himself up as your canvas. You understand the appeal of hickeys now. For you two, it’s an agreement, a promise, an exchange of trust. You continue down his front, teeth grazing his nipples, lower and lower, kissing along the protrusion of his pelvic bone. Until you arrive at his cock.

“Do you remember the whole ice cube thing during the heatwave?” You run your finger up his length, over his oozing slit. The heatwave feels like an eon ago, but also like just yesterday.

Stiffening, Taehyung looks down. “Yes…”

“How about I pay you back for that one?” You take his shut eyes and sparse nod as compliance because you know he’s not capable of words right now.

You dash away to collect a glass of ice from the drink cooler, but on your way find something even better. Something you’ve always wanted to try.

Taehyung is slowly touching himself when you return, mildly surprised by the second item you brought back with you. “Whipped cream? Isn’t that from the gift basket?”

“You up for it?” A smirk stretches.

“Very up and very hard.” He lets go of his member and watches you drop to your knees.

To moisten him first, you slowly lap circles around his head, applying considerable pressure and letting the tip of your tongue tease at his sensitive opening. You look up when he moans, and takes his girth into your mouth, sliding his cock further and further down your throat until he pokes the back. Then you pull up with a pop, echoing within the walls of the bathroom.

You take two ice cubes from the glass, one placed between your lips, and the other to massage over your clit. The icy sensation strikes a numbing sensation into your core when it touches your bud of nerves. The cube in your mouth, you begin to trace slowly from the base of his shaft all the way up.

A string of profanities leaves Taehyung at the temperature, and seeds a satisfaction between your legs.

The ice is melting quickly from the heat of your mouth so you waste no time to guide it down to his scrotum resting on your palm. “Fuck.” He whines, his whole length twitching.

When this cube dissolves into nothing but a puddle of your tongue, you take another, ruthlessly educing those curses from him. His tip is the most sensitive part of him, so that’s where you focus on, smearing the edges of the cube around the curve of his head. His thighs tense in euphoric spasms.

The whipped cream comes next. With a few shakes of the canister, you hold his cock pointed towards yourself and view the spiral of white untainted cream unfold onto his head.

“Ah!” Taehyung yelps.

“You good?” You glance up to check that he still has a rein on his sanity.

“It just scared me.” You chuckle and place a kiss on his shaft.

“You should be scared.”

Eyes lock on his, you watch him watch you vulgarly smear the cream all over his cock with your lips. Its sweetness oozes into your mouth and sinks into your tongue. “Mmm.” You hum at the pleasant taste. Then you start to suck, the cream providing you with a lubrication that your spit has never been able to replicate. His cock glides into your mouth with such little resistance that you gag around him.

“Oh fuck, that feels so good.” He can’t look away from you, your hollowed out cheeks and large eyes as you bob your head deeper and deeper. Ribald wet sloppy noises squeaking from your mouth. “Uh fuck.”

Taehyung’s fingers entangle in your hair, guiding your motion in and out. The cream swirls in your mouth, the taste prompting you to suck harder until your mouth adheres like a second skin to his cock. He’s soon panting, even as you come up for air and to spray more cream on him.

“Yeah, keep going. Can I come in your mouth?” His eyes are almost screwed shut, but still open to keep watching. The rise and fall of his chest, and the bulging vein down the side of his cock - he’s close.

You keep sucking, relishing in the taste of the cream, the ease at which his tip glides along your throat, your own fluid dripping from your cunt.

“Fuc- Ah!” Gripping your hair tight, he thrusts hard into you as he cums, ribbons of his own cream mixing in your mouth. Taehyung’s dick pulses violently at the shaft. You watch his jaw fall open, brows pinch together, as the liquid dribbles down your throat.

You pull his length out of you with a great gasp and swallow all the remnants. “Shit. How was that?” Out of breath, you wipe the mess around your mouth with the dropped towel.

“Give me a second to recover from that, baby.” Arms on the countertop to support him, Taehyung lets his head droop back so far that his hair touches his elbows. You wet the towel at the sink and clean his slowly limping member. “Fuck that was…”

When his eyes open again, there is a fury that you know to be afraid of. He hauls you up onto your two feet and latch onto your lips, not caring about the filthy things they’ve just done to him.

“I need to be inside you.” He grumbles. “Give me five, ten minutes and I'll be ready again.”

“Hmm.” Arms sliding around his neck, you let him walk you onto the bed, hovering over you while his hands fondle your breasts that have become lonely. The insides of your thighs are slick with your arousal - that doesn’t go unnoticed.

Scissoring your folds open with his long digits, this thumb finds your clit, bulging and throbbing with desire. The vibrations coursing into you as he starts to rub compels you to arch back. You are really just a plaything when under his touch, as malleable as dough.

“Taehyung!” And for some reason, you calling out his name flips an animalistic switch in him.

With your neck fully exposed, he ceases the opportunity to nibble all over your unmarred skin, leaving angry blotches in return of your marks on him. This thumb is working quickly, the pressure at your clit superimposing second by second.

“Wait.” He lifts his head up abruptly, though fingers still going. “Do you want to sit on my face?”

Your heart jolts in excitement at the mere mention of it. “Didn’t even have to ask.” It has always been something you’ve wanted to try but never gotten around to.

Swapping positions, Taehyung reclines onto his back while you situate your knees on either side of his face. His hands grip onto your waist, guiding your descent onto his thrill-teeming face.

An incredible shock of pleasure fires up your spine when he takes your clit between his lips and sucks. This position grants him an unobstructed access to your pussy, no awkward angle, no cramping neck. So the assail he commences is totally, and unfortunately for your lucidity, merciless. His hands grapple onto your freely hanging breasts, rolling your nipples between fingertips.

Crying aloud from the ecstatic twisting sensation, you feel your eyes water. It’s almost too much, the mind warping accumulation of tension in your cunt. “Like that, Taehyung.”

One of his hands leaves your breast only to insert his digits into your dripping slit. Your thighs are aching, close to giving way; you don’t think you can withstand this tremendous stimulation.

His tongue doesn’t stop and neither do his fingers. Breathing through his nose heavily, he continues to coil your core into loops and loops of hypertension

You’re so close, so close.

And you’re there.

The pulsing waves of your orgasm sweep you away. You don’t even hear your own moans, just the roaring of your blood in your ears. Your whole body writhes above Taehyung, but your muscles don’t permit you to move off him while so ransacked by this high.

It last long, nearing half a minute before your senses come back to you.

And finally, you sag and topple over, trusting Taehyung to catch you and roll you onto your back.

“What the fuck.” You pant, low frequency pulsations still resonating down your legs, in awe of how he never fails to tip you over the edge. And the striking difference between the male and female orgasm is that, unlike Taehyung, you immediately want more when you’re done. “Taehyung, please, I need you to fuck me.”

His reply startles you. “No.” You open your eyes and find him regarding you with such reverence that only confuses you more.

“No?”

Cupping your face in his palm as he props himself on his elbow over you, Taehyung leans down and kisses your nose. Then your mouth. “Y/N.” Your temple. “I want to.” Your ear. “Make love to you.”

He paints a constellation of wet kisses all over you.

“How does that sound, baby?”

You immediately pull him back onto your own lips, a desperate craving as you kiss him back hard. “I love you.” You really do. It’s the one thing you’re the most certain about in this world.

“Ahhh.” Readjusting over you yet still keeping the close distance between your faces, he takes his cock in his hand and pumps. “You know you do to me when you say those words?” He kisses you again, so softly that his lips feel like rose petals. As he lines his tips along your entrance, you shut your eyes and prepare for it.

“I love you.” You repeat. And he sinks in.

It feels different, so entirely different from the previous time tonight. There is not an ounce of concern, of doubt, of hesitancy. You feel safe underneath him, secure.

His tender moans unravelling into songs of vulnerability. “I love you, too.” He whispers into your ear, and you understand what he means by how much these three words have an effect because them alone are almost enough to capsize you again.

His thrust, though lacking its usual roughness, does not lack in anything else. Every time he plummets into you, his mouth finds yours. Your hands are interlocked, pinned down onto the pillow. The surprising intimacy of that act overflowing to the brim. And you swear you could see heaven right then and there.

You feel nothing but love and devotion throughout.

He makes love to you over and over again this night, Valentine’s night. And despite your usual preferences, the sensations between your legs, in your chest, in your mind, are unrivaled.

Transcendental.

When it’s all over, when you’re nothing more than sweaty skin, damp hair, and hearts full of love for each other, you spend your time taking in each other’s details. His unblemished complexion. The beauty mark under the lashes of his right eye. The perfect shape of his cupid's bow that doesn’t seem humanly possible. Everything.

“What we had didn’t work, but we’re not going to repeat those mistakes again, I won’t hurt you again, I promise.” You whisper softly as you caress his cheek. “It’s all or nothing. And you have all of me.”

The glaze over his sincere eyes hasn’t left yet, though you don’t suppose your eyes are completely dry either.

You continue, “Seeing you break down like that today was… the hardest thing for me to witness. So much worse that our stupid pointless fights, and the nights where I would cry myself to sleep. And I can’t apologise enough for causing you that much pain.”

Taehyung’s eyes trailing down bashfully, and you almost worry that he’d cry again.. “I… I can’t believe the day finally came where I cried during sex…” You let out a round of laughter at what he chooses to dwell on.

“I love you so much that it makes me sick. I’m honestly disgusted and mortified by myself.” You snicker in his hair.

“Look, what about me? I love you so much that I cried during sex. Not even just a tear either. Full on sobs. I think I’m the bigger loser here.” The fact that he can joke about the situation reassures you that he’s over it. The mood once again lightens.

“All this just because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants during a heatwave.”

He pulls you closer into his rumbling chest, laughing to himself as he toys with your earlobe between his teeth.

You fall asleep in each other’s arms, for the first time as each other’s lovers. And for the rest of the nights that come after.

.

A/N: Alexa, play ‘Fuck it I love you’ by Lana Del Rey.

Thank you everyone for the incredible love and support you’ve unfailingly shown Heatwave. As my first fic, I am of course so very attached to these characters and ending this series is such a bittersweet feeling. It’s been such a lovely journey to write this couple and although I don’t plan on writing anything for them in the next few months, I won’t close off that possibility completely.

Love you!

- Kristy

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27/04/20

© Copyright 2020

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#heatwave #heatwave drabble #bts #bts smut #bts taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung #bts v #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung oneshot #taehyung drabble #taehyung scenarios #taehyung reactions #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts oneshot #bts reactions #bts fanart #bts angst #namjoon #namjoon smut #jin #jin smut #yoongi #yoongi smut #hoseok

[awhitehead17]

100 ways to say I love you - TimKon edition:

Number 43: “I picked these for you.” 

Enjoy! :D

Kon bops his head along to the music playing in his earphones, completely absorbed in his own world as he browses the shelves of different isles in the store. It’s his turn to do the snack run for the team’s fortnightly movie night. What usually happens is that everyone chips in some money then one person is selected to go out and make the run to the store while the others set everything else up. This time it happens to be Kon.

In all honestly he doesn’t mind doing it. Going to the store means he has control on what snacks he gets for the team and in what quantities. He travels through the shop slowly adding items that appeal to him into the basket he’s carrying as he goes.

He grabs a variety of things, making sure there’s enough for everyone to have something of each thing. Crisps, dips, chocolate, sweets, ice cream, biscuits and even bottles of drink. Whatever doesn’t get eaten can be used another day unless Bart decides to devour it all anyway.

When the basket is practically overflowing Kon decides that he has more than enough and goes to  the checkout to pay. The lady at the till gives him a curious look for all of the food he’s buying but doesn’t comment on it, in response Kon gives her a tight smile and awkwardly packs away everything into a few different plastic bags.

When everything is paid for he heads out of the shop and makes his way back to the Tower. It doesn’t take him long and once he’s there he makes his way to the media room where his friends are now all set up for the night.

The main lights are off, making the only light in the room coming from the TV which is showing a movie title screen. Across two sofas are a variety of blankets and pillows and finally the coffee table between them has many bowls and cups awaiting to be filled with the snacks Kon’s just brought.

His friends are currently sprawled out on the two sofas. Bart and Cassie on one and Tim on the other. Kon isn’t surprised to find it like this, after all this is their usual set up, he and Tim would cuddle together on one while the other two bicker about having their own space on the other sofa. Occasionally they would change it up, or even at times all piles onto one sofa, that only happens after rough times though.

Kon walks into the room and places two of the three bags he’s got down on the coffee table. Instantly the three of them lunge towards the bags and start rummaging through the contents. They grab different snacks and empty them into different bowls and set aside other bags for later.

Amidst the sorting out Cassie cheers when she pulls out a bag of Twizzlers which Kon had especially picked up for her. She chucks them behind her to her space on the couch and carries on rummaging through the bags. Not long after that Bart voices his excitement when he pulls out a couple bags of Doritos.

Kon smirks to himself as he watches Tim look more closely at the rest of the contents, clearly looking for something. He has to bite his lips to keep himself from laughing out loud when a look of disappointment crosses his boyfriend’s face when he doesn’t find what he clearly wants.

For the moment Kon ignores it, he moves over to his and Tim’s sofa and sits down glances at the others. “So what are we watching first?”

“We are watching Ace Ventura.”

Kon hums in thought. He doesn’t think he’s seen this one, so at least it’s something different for a change. He keeps his focus on Cassie and questions her about the film, simply asking for a basic outline so he gets some idea on what it’s about.

As Cassie roughly describes the plot to him Kon could feel eyes on him and he stops himself from reacting to it. Teasing Tim is too much fun sometimes. Once she’s finished talking Kon finally turns to Tim and acknowledges him. “You okay Tim?” He continues to act oblivious much to Tim’s disappointment.

Tim pouts at him, even going as far as to stick his bottom lip out for extra effect, and proceeds to stare at him with a puppy dog look without saying anything. Tim doesn’t drop the look for some time and eventually Kon gives in with a roll of his eyes. He’s never been able to withstand that look. Kon reaches for the third plastic bag he had brought back with him, which he hid behind his legs when he sat down, and grabs Tim’s favoured snack.

“Don’t worry, I picked these for you,” Kon says laughing as he presents to Tim a large bag of marshmallows, “I promise I didn’t forget.”

The pout on Tim’s face instantly disappears and is replaced with a gleeful smile. His boyfriend reaches out and grabs the bag before leaning over to place a kiss onto Kon’s lips. “Thank you.”

Amused, Kon snorts. “Anyone would think you’re a spoilt brat with the way you acted after not immediately finding what you wanted.” He means it as a joke of course, if anything Tim is one of the most selfless people he’s ever met.

Tim raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Well I am rich. Why wouldn’t I get what I want?”

Kon opens his mouth to respond but he’s stopped short by Tim’s lips pressing against his own. They kiss slowly but deeply for several moments, long enough for Kon to forget where they even are before Tim is pulling away again.

He sends Kon a soft appreciative smile. “Seriously, thanks though. I’ve been craving marshmallows all week. These will do nicely!”

“You always crave marshmallows. I honestly don’t understand why you like them so much.”

“Because I do, that’s why. I don’t judge your food choices so don’t judge mine.”

“Um excuse me? You always judge what I eat! Just last week you made a comment about my burger when we went out for lunch.”

“Yes I did because no one puts that kind of sauce on a burger! It’s weird and is virtually disgusting.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it Tim. You never know what kinds of flavours go together.”

The two of them are brought out of their bickering by Cassie clearing her throat and getting their attention. “If you two are quite done, we have a film to watch.”

They each send her sheepish smile and Kon waves for her to start the film. From next to her Bart snickers, his hand already buried deep in one of the bags of Doritos. “They bicker like an old married couple.”

Cassie rolls her eyes as she settles into the back of the couch, wrapping a blanket around herself. “That’s because they already are.”

“We’re not that bad.” Tim defends weakly, also slouching into the corner of the sofa to get comfy. Kon makes a face, not fully agreeing with Tim’s comment but otherwise stays silent.

“I beg to differ.” Cassie retorts with a roll of her eyes and Kon knows there’s no heat behind the action.

Shaking his head, Kon dismisses the whole thing. He turns his focus onto the TV as the film finally begins to play. He shifts over on the sofa so he’s tucked up against Tim and takes his boyfriend into his arms and together they settle in a cuddling position. That’s how they stay for the rest of the evening as different films are put on, as the snacks all get devoured and as the evening turns into night.

#100 ways to say i love you #timkon #Tim Drake #Kon-El #cassie sandsmark #bart allen #idiots in love #adorable idiots #movie night #snacks #bickering #tim and kon are an old married couple #teasing #humour #fluff #fanfiction

[nestable]

BRING IT ON HOME NESSIAN ONESHOT

Bring it on Home to me by Sam Cooke is on of my favorite songs in the word and I highly recommend you go have a listen if you havent heard it, I promise you wont regret it. I was listening to it the other day and instantly thought of how these lyrics resonated with nessian, cassian more especially and couldn't resist writing this fic. Just a little soft, SFW, domestic Nessian. 🥺😭

"Nes." Cassian groaned as he rolled closer to her side of the bed. "Nesta?"

After being met with stark silence, Cassian outstretched his hand only for it to collapse onto cold sheets.

No Nesta, he realized with a start.

Though he and his Nesta have been mated for some months now, all of which have been without an incident, he can't help but worry.

Each night he reassures himself with the knowledge of their bond, the heat of her body pressed against his own, the words of love and loyalty she ensures he hears everyday, that she is safe and finally happy.

Not miserable and balancing on the cusp of oblivion where he found her last year. Juggling between drowning her sorrows and indulging in sub-par sex just to feel something, just to deny the connection they share because she felt that she wasnt worthy of him. No, that was all over now, but he can't help when the memories resurface.

The memory of Nesta writhing and arched in her bed as silver flames wreathed her body like a shroud. The screams of pain and anguish that left her lips only to be swallowed by starless night and Deaths flames. How the very mountain trembled beneath their feet, bracing itself for the potential explotion that Cassian could sense building up. Somehow he knew that Velaris would've been crumpled to dust that night and become a fond memory. He felt it in his gut. Just the same way he felt her night terrors take hold of her for her powers to bask in centre stage. And in the same breath, he also felt that he could stop it. Whether that was pure male arrogance or the suspicion of the bond that lay between them, that was yet to be found. And it was...the moment her powers seized in intensity when he said her name. Once, twice, just enough for Rhys to gain control and save them all.

No, he would never forget that and he'd be damned if it were to happen again and catch him in a helpless position as the first time he witnessed the extent of her power. A power that mostly returned back to the Cauldron, only to be replaced by 3 Dread troves and the Mothers favour. A different sort of threat perhaps. One sweeter, kinder, even benign from what he's witnessed.

Nesta barely speaks about the power the same way she did with her Cauldron gifts. She reassures him that these were different, these she understands and smiled every time he enquired about her connection with the Mother. He wishes to know more, his body yearns for it, but his mate has always loved surprises.

Cassian threw on a pair of his undershorts before leaving his and Nestas new room. Though the House of Wind has become their shared abode, its ill advised to walk around naked with the possibility of Azriel becoming an unwilling spectator with his prowling around the halls in the dead of night like he's been doing for the past year.

Cassian loves his brother, sometimes more than kin normally do, he believes sometimes, but he'll never forgive him for that night he ruined his birthday night when he walked in on Nesta modelling her new negligee in the library. He's never jumped from one intense emotion to another so quickly. Blinded by the red lace of her silk garments only to see red of a different kind when the blue of Azriels siphon opened the door.

The territorial male part of him nearly took over that night and he was inclined to let it ride him had Nesta not winnowed them to their room and pushed him onto the bed. The anger, the curiosity he had as to how Nesta was able to winnow around the House when no one else could were obscured then turned insignificant by the view of Nesta sitting astride on his thighs.

Cassian followed the music swimming through the hall which brought him to a new lounge area that didn't present itself in the centuries that he's been living here until Nesta inherited the place.

Many new things have made their presence known and sprung to life since Nestas made the House her home. Hidden rooms have materialized, troves have opened and a gorgeous garden has flourished on the top of the mountain. As if in preparation of someone, or little someone's who might need it.

Cassian isn't blind to the fact that the House makes things available according to Nestas hopes, dreams and wishes. All of which make Cassian excited for the future and a forever with his mate even more.

Nesta was leaning against the cream white wall that she and Cassian painted just last night, holding an A2 canvas painting in both hands. He couldn't decipher her facial expression or read some of the wild thoughts that were evidently bouncing around her head as Nesta was inclined to raising her mental walls to him when she was stressed. He'd once asked why and she told him that she didnt want to plague him with her problems. Didnt want to bother him. Little did she know that Cassian was built for her, problems and all. Nothing about Nesta could bother him. Not even the parts that bothered her.

"Hi." He whispered which startled Nesta before she composed herself. For her to be so drawn into her thoughts that she didnt notice him approaching, instantly put him on edge him.

"Hi." She said, plastering a lazy smile onto her face.

Cassian took that as an invitation to enter. His eyes swept across the room, taking in the organized clutter. From the closed boxes filling the lounge, the half hung snow white gossamer curtains blowing in from the open balcony, to the slightly dusty white marble tiles that were installed just last week.

Cassian was a bit skeptical when Nesta told him of her plans to decorate this room in all white. White cushions, white couches, white walls, white flower arrangements, white chandeliers and white fur carpets felt like a fever dream to Cassian, but now that it's all coming to life, he can see the vision of beauty that Nesta had in mind. A vision not only limited to this lounge but the entire House of Wind that Nesta will decorate herself with the input of the House itself to revitalize the place. All of which will be paid for by Rhys.

How the Cauldron matched him to such a female, not mere female but god, he'll never know. All he can do is be grateful and work to be worthy and deserve the gift to draw breath in her presence.

Now that Nestas accepted her Human emissary role and is the courts newly appointed courtier, she's recieving the same fat salary like the rest of the IC, but Cassian doubts that Rhysand will ever let Nesta access her funds because he insists on paying for everything for her. Which goes to show that Rhys' gratitude for Nesta runs very far. Or guilt, or both.

What Nesta did for Feyre, Nyx and Rhys was something that couldnt be described with words. She saved their lives and in doing so the entire court. Rhys failed to tell his family about him and Feyres decision and never left a plan of action to follow after his death. Had he died, the role of High Lord could've fallen to anyone. Probably Keir or one of Mors detestable brothers because they are Rhys closest male blood relatives. What they would've done to Velaris, done to the entire court....Cassian seldom contemplates that. Nestas sacrifice and mercy saved them all and in doing so, opened herself to a higher form of being that is yet to be seen.

"What are you doing up so late?"

"I had a lot on my mind. I couldn't sleep so I decided to come and get this room in order." She explained, flipping her golden brown hair over her shoulder.

"What's been on your mind?" Cassian asked casually, taking a step closer.

He'd have embraced her and held her against his chest if it weren't for the massive painting in her hands. A painting that he can feel is the source of all her trepidation.

Nesta bit her lip before turning the canvas toward him and placing it in his hands. "Feyre finally finished that and it was delivered yesterday afternoon. I was too afraid to open it then- but I figured that I wouldn't be able to sleep until I saw it."

At first glance, anyone would assume that the muse was Nesta. From the steel eyes to the clear skin and poise in the pose. But upon further inspection, the age of the woman, the beauty spot beneath her right eye and slight darker tresses reveals the truth.

"This is your mother..." Cassian said lowly. The weight of the image, not the canvas itself but the obvious memories, pain and loss the painting held settled on him.

"Was." She uttered a bit sharply. Her throat bobbing up and down.

Cassians eyes darted between Nesta and the painting. Surprise and admiration pouring into him in droves. Her sisters did mention more than once that Nesta is their mothers spitting image, but this...it was as though the same person had been born twice.

"You stole her whole face." He chuckled, bringing a sweet curve to Nestas lip.

"I know...I know." She shrugged.

Cassian lay the painting carefully against the wall then wrapped his arms around his mates shoulders. Her own found their home around his waist as she rested her chin atop his chest so that their eyes could meet.

If it were a few months ago, a year, she would've furiously blinked away the tears that have settled in her eyes, or rejected their proximity entirely. Only to retain a semblance of control that shes strived so hard to maintain. But now shes opened herself to him entirely. Made him a part of both her happiness and pain, loss and gain, victories and failure. Just as their mating vows ordered.

"Talk to me." He whispered, dragging his fingers through her hair.

"I- I just...I know that my mother was not the best of mothers, nor did she love us in the ways that a mother should but....but that doesn't make me love her any less. She might've trained me instead of raised me, saw me as a ticket to wealth and leisure or lived vicariously through me but she was still my mother." Her tears fell down her cheeks as if a damn had been broken. "There were good moments as well as bad and I'm not going to pretend that she was never loving or good to me. Elain and Feyre might've forgotten her, but I can't... I wont."

Cassian lowered his head to press soft kisses to her cheeks where her tears left stains. "I know." He murmured. "You dont share the same memories as Elain and Feyre, it's only natural that you saw her much differently and remember her in a better light than they do." He rubbed feather light circles on the back of her neck in an attempt to assuage her from her pain.

"It broke my heart when I walked through Feyres house that day and didn't see a piece of myself or her. It felt like I was being erased, forgotten. Now I've found my place in that hall but she hasn't. I couldn't allow that to happen. I couldn't let her be erased just like that."

"And she wont be, not if you will it. I'll remember her with you." Cassians lips found Nestas and before they knew it, the couple found themselves descending into a deep kiss that only a mating bond could conjure.

"You know that's one of the reasons I love you?" He stated, to which Nesta replied with a raised brow. "Your compassion, your massive heart, your loyalty... these are all qualities that you motivate me to pursue everyday. You've kept your soft side hidden for a long time and now we're starting to see it." She smiled. By far the most beautiful sight he's ever seen. "That sweet love. Just bring it on home to me."

A giggle was shared between them as soon as the words left his mouth. The lyrics of a song, their song, that came on the day of their mating ceremony that they had on repeat for 2 hours straight. Cassian had never heard a song that spoke to him and his experience with love the way that one did. One that Nesta knew would speak to his very marrow and chose not to warn him in advance, only to see his reaction.

"You're insufferable." She said, only to hug him tighter and lay her head on his chest.

"Well then you're going to have to get used to it, Nes. We only have forever left together."

Just when Cassian expected Nesta to respond, the soft melody of a piano begun in the corner of the room from Nesta symphoniam, followed by the ever true lyrics that might've been written for them, that might as well have been their wedding and mating vows.

If you ever change your mind

About leaving, leaving me behind

Baby, bring it to me

Bring your sweet loving

Bring it on home to me

Yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah)

Nesta begun the dance. Cassian followed with no hesitation. Though it was a far cry from the pulsating waltz they'd done in Hewn city or other court events thereafter. It was far more intimate, passionate. Just a sway of the hips and foot movements that reforged and strengthened the golden bond that surged through them on Winter Solstice and polished it to a shimmer. Their bond was not a mere tether, not a chain. It was a rainbow. Shimmering through storms and sunny days. It didnt only make its presence known or surge when they were in the throes of passion, it became more sentient when they were upset with each other. It was the musical and colourful road that led mate back to mate. Self back to self.

I know I laughed when you left

But now I know I only hurt myself

Baby, bring it to me

Bring your sweet loving

Bring it on home to me

Yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah)

His heart cracked at the words and the truth they carry. The memories when they were so at odds with each other that they could barely be in the same room longer than necessary. The nights when he thought the immense sadness and grief at the prospect of losing her entirely would drown him and suffocate him. When he wished that he could rip his heart out of his chest only to get a reprieve from his anguish. Anguish he attempted to expunge with throwing himself into work and training only to realize that the further they moved from one another, the further they moved from themselves.

As if Nesta could hear and feel those memories, she held onto him tighter. This female, his tether to reality, his anchor, the tree that was able to weather a thunderstorm that left the land decimated only to come back and continue to grow with fruits and flowers on display for all to see.

I'll give you jewellery and money, too

That ain't all, that ain't all I'll do for you

Oh, if you bring it to me

Bring your sweet loving

Bring it on home to me

Yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah)

Cassian knew that from the moment he met Nesta, there was nothing in the world that he wouldn't do for her. Nothing too out of reach that if she should request, he would give. He was already hers in mind, body and soul. Their bond might've snapped into being after she emerged from the cauldeon, but the draw he felt toward her was infinite. Like their souls were made from the same essence but placed on earth in different time periods so that they know life without the other, to appreciate being together more.

You know I'll always be your slave

'Til I'm buried, buried in my grave

Oh honey, bring it to me

Bring your sweet loving

Bring it on home to me

Yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah)

Cassian held up Nestas hand so that he may look upon the wedding and mating band. She requested that she have both and went to the best jeweler in Velaris to fuse both choices so that they sit as one on her finger. Both were made of rose gold, the slimmer wedding ring was imbued with three tanzanite diamonds and the larger mating band sports just one giant diamond that would need it's own security team. Cassian knew his mate loved nice things and made him pay a pretty penny to get it. He'd do again if only to see the stars that twinkled in her eyes when they chose the bands at the jeweler.

He looked at his own jeweled finger. A simple silver band that stood out more than he expected it to. He wanted to get black carbon fiber but Nesta threatened not to speak to him again if he had. Now he can't stop looking at it. He loves how it makes an appearance even though he's bedecked in full illyrian armour. He'll never forget the swell of pride he felt when his soldiers eyes zoned in on the piece of metal that could've easily been obscured by the red siphon that rests atop his hand, but chose to stand out and make its presence known. A symbol of his immature bachelorhood dead and gone, giving life to a new stage in his life. A stage he's waited for longer than he cares to admit.

He remembers using the word 'shackled' when describing his mating bond with Nesta when he was upset with her, but now that word seems appropriate. If the pieces of metal sitting on their matching fingers are the shackles of which he spoke, then he'd wear his shackles with pride.

One more thing

I tried to treat you right

But you stayed out, stayed out at night

But I forgive you, bring it to me

Bring your sweet loving

Bring it on home to me

Yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah)

Cassian rarely thinks about the time they spent apart. When resentment, self punishment and grief pulled them apart only because those memories are nothing in comparison to the centuries he spent without her.

Living life believing the words of the ignorant and seeing oneself as a inferior and undeserving of the love that he relishes in now. The love that has somehow wiped away centuries of self hate and lack of self awareness. He figures that the reason why he used to be the first to throw himself into deadly missions were all desperate plea to prove himself, to put it into stone that he isn't a mere worthless bastard but is someone worthy of respect. But now his outlook has completely shifted. He is no longer living only for himself, but for another. He remembers the blind terror he felt when he thought that Nesta was swallowed by the black water in the Bog, or how she screamed when she thought that she lost him on Mount Ramiel.

He doesnt want either of them to go through that again. To be without the other. To feel that their very heart was ripped out of their chest, when both had taken permanent residence in the other.

He saw how Feyre reacted when Rhys died, and heard when Rhys screamed when Feyre was on deaths doorstop. The mere thought of Nesta experiencing that pain or him has softened his daring heart.

He will live, he will love and he will do it with Nesta in his arms.

As the song drew to a close, Nesta shifted from her position on his chest, too look upon him again. She brought her slim fingers to his cheeks and smiled. "Forever."

He could offer nothing but the same. A truth that had been both a promise and a prayer from the moment they met, "Forever."

Tag: @bakingandbooks3 @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @arinbelle @silvernesta @darklobe @haepaw @carlieg20 @illyrianshadowhunter

#acsf spoiler #nessian oneshot #nessian #bring it on home to me

[starlight-vixen-emiko]

Kagami’s Lucky Black Cat Chapter 2

ff.net ao3

Hey everyone! I am sorry it took me so long to get chapter 2 out...Granted I guess with that recent episode that came out my timing is perfect.

So do all of you want to see Chat Noir happy with Kagami? I know you do!

So without further ado...

~~~~~

It was noon when Chat Noir jumped around Paris to make sure everything was safe. He checked every corner of the city and everything seemed as peaceful and mundane as usual, which made today a wonderful day of exploring.

At the same time, Kagami was waiting in a long line to be seated at a restaurant. She tried her hardest not to bump into anyone, but everyone was eager and excited.

Just then, Chat Noir flew above him, and the people in the crowded line gasped. Everyone called out Chat Noir's name and said hello. And Kagami turned to see her cat hero friend and gave him a soft smile while waving.

Chat felt time slow down as his eyes locked on to the beautiful girl who waved to him. He almost flew into a street lamp, but he managed to grab hold and slid down the street light like a fire pole.

The crowd started cheering, and Chat Noir walked over to greet everyone.

"Hey fans! I hope everyone is doing well today," Chat said.

The people in the crowd gave their enthusiastic replies, and Kagami gave Chat a pleased grin.

"Hello Miss Kagami," Chat said before taking her hand and planting a kiss on it. His peridot green eyes looked so lovely to her. "It's great to see you again."

"Likewise," Kagami said as she took her hand and kissed the area that Chat kissed.

Just then, the owner of the restaurant showed up to greet Chat.

"Chat Noir," the restaurant owner started. "I am so grateful for all you do for our city. If you want, I can give you a reserved seat."

Chat Noir was pleased by the offer, but then he turned to Kagami.

"Could Miss Kagami join me as well?" Chat asked.

The restaurant owner gave his approval, and Chat held out his hand for Kagami.

Kagami smiled and took his gloved hand, and the crowd members were in awe. A few girls were a mix of starstruck and jealous.

"I want to date Chat Noir too!!!"

"You are so lucky!"

Chat Noir and Kagami took a moment to giggle to themselves.

~~~~~

They were seated at a lovely balcony seat where the two of them relaxed while waiting for food.

Adrien never had a date with someone while being a superhero, but there was a first time for everything. And Kagami was so charming.

Chat sat back in his seat to soak in the sun just like an actual cat, but he sat back up when Kagami's hazelnut eyes looked at him.

"See? You really are a lucky black cat," Kagami said before sipping some iced tea.

Chat tried to shake off his blushing face. "You give me too much credit. I nearly slammed into a billboard while on patrol. He laughed a bit under his breath. "It was kind of funny."

Kagami smiled and rested her face on her hand while stirring her drink with her other hand.

"I would've waited an hour for a table. And it's been lovely so far."

It mentally clicked for Adrien that everything was going well. Thank goodness! He was feeling so good being around Kagami he almost forgot not to ruin the date.

"I am glad I am good company," Chat said as he brought his ice tea to his lips. "Keep it up Chat! You wouldn't want to disappoint her!" He thought.

Kagami gave a pleased hum, and Chat realized he drank all his ice tea in one sitting. Kagami pushed her iced tea to him, and Chat Noir gave a silent thank you for offering the rest of her ice tea.

They were peaceful at their table until a few fangirls from earlier were a bit loud and excited to be seated at a table finally. They were certainly delighted to be sitting at a table near Chat Noir.

"Hey Chat Noir!" One of the girls cried while waving.

Another girl ran from that table ran to Chat and held a notebook in front of him.

"Chat, may I please have an autograph?"

Before Chat could say yes or no, a fangirl on the other side of him grabbed his arm and stroked his chin with her other hand.

"Chat Noir, please spend time with me."

"Wait!" Chat cried as he tried to free himself.

Kagami had a bit of a hurt expression on her face. Chat was at a loss for words as he looked at her with an apologetic expression on his face. The fangirls still had him in their clutches, and it was undoubtedly killing the date.

Suddenly a man started playing the accordion and Chat jumped high in the air. Everyone dining gasped in shock. Chat Noir did a flip before landing right beside Kagami. Kagami was a bit stunned, and her chair rattled a bit on impact.

Chat Noir sighed and fixed his hair before holding on his hand for Kagami.

"Would you like to dance?"

Kagami smiled softly. "I would love to."

They walked hand and hand to an area free of tables, and Kagami hooked her hands to Chat's, even if there were claws on his gloves. Her deep brown eyes were enough to soften any feral expression he had.

Kagami gently took the lead as they swayed back and forth, and their feet met every beat to the sounds of the accordion. They started to giggle as they felt each other matching their rhythm, and the accordion music became more energetic. Chat Noir lifted Kagami in the air a few times as they spun around. Kagami felt her heart rush and her smile grow as the handsome cat boy gracefully lifted her as if she were flying. When they finished spinning, they found themselves back at their table, where the waiter placed small skillets with steaks on them. Chat and Kagami were pleased to eat finally.

As they ate their delicious steaks cooked in garlic butter, Chat Noir told his most hilarious stories of him and Ladybug saving the day, and Kagami was so amused.

"And then the Akuma that reigned misfortune on every person she saw faced her own misfortune when me and Ladybug showed up!" Chat Noir said triumphantly. "Only this time, I had a sword with me to fight against the misfortune magic, and it was awesome!"

Chat Noir quickly waved his fork around like it was a sword. "En garde Misfortune!"

Kagami giggled and waved her fork around as well.

"This time, Chat Noir will become the MVP!" Chat cried. "I will prove myself to be as big of a hero as Ladybug."

The two of them continued sword fighting with their forks until they heard a crash in the distance. Up ahead, it did look like smoke from a destroyed building. Chat instinctively guarded Kagami.

"I gotta go!" Chat said sternly. He was about to throw some money on the table, but Kagami took his hand.

"I will take care of it. Just go save the day," she said.

The two of them looked into each other's eyes for a moment before Chat smiled at her. He got up from his seat and twirled his tail in his hand.

"This Akuma will certainly pay for interrupting my date with you," Chat said. He looked at Kagami one last time. "Stay safe Princess."

"I will," Kagami said as Chat jumped off the balcony and onto the rooftops.

Kagami and many others ran to the edge of the balcony to watch Chat Noir go, but the dining staff encouraged everyone to get inside where it was safer. Kagami turned back once more, hoping Chat Noir would be ok.

~~~~~

When everything was safe again, Kagami walked the streets of Paris alone, hoping to find Chat Noir again. But to no avail, he must've been busy with other things. Without realizing she saw Andre's ice cream cart at a distance where many people were eagerly getting ice cream.

When Chat Noir left, she didn't feel like finishing the steak since the Akuma interrupted their lunch date. So she waited in the messy line of people to get some ice cream of her own. It was a bit of a wait, but Andre smiled at her when it was finally her turn.

"Good afternoon Miss! I see there are some mixed feelings inside of you. Affection. Infatuation. Joy."

Kagami smiled to herself. "Yes, today has been a fun day."

Andre opened the lid on the ice cream cart. "I have two flavors you might be interested in."

Andre pulled out two cones with two flavors, and Kagami stared in bewilderment.

"One cone has dragon fruit and charcoal, a sweet treat that is very unique! Represents a girl with the heart of a dragon and a boy dark and mysterious."

Kagami never tasted charcoal-flavored ice cream before.

"The other is dragon fruit and lemon sorbet. The dragon girl is complimenting a boy who is like lemons on a sunny day."

Kagami felt herself salivating. She wasn't sure which ice cream to choose. On the one hand, she loved lemon sorbet that reminded her of the beautiful sun in summer, but she also wanted to be bold and try charcoal.

She didn't want to keep Andre waiting though, so she took the charcoal cone from him.

"Whichever flavor combination you choose, you are sure to enjoy. Both represent the feelings in your heart for a boy." Andre said with a sly smile.

"A boy?" Kagami thought. There were two amazing boys in her life, and this was a dilemma.

Kagami didn't know what to say, so she just paid Andre and sat on a bench so she could taste the mysterious ebony black ice cream.

Kagami took a small spoonful and ate it, and that small spoonful exploded in her mouth with the flavor of charcoal. She couldn't help but take a few more bites. Kagami licked her lips and wondered if the ice cream made her tongue dark.

Kagami turned on her phone's camera and looked to see her lips, and her tongue had a bit of ebony black, but it was, and she smiled at herself as she took a photo.

Everyone could see the beautiful ice cream cone she was eating and the new flavor on her lips.

~~~~~

Chat Noir stretched and sighed after another day of saving Paris from Akumas. He complained to himself that he didn't even get to finish lunch or eat dessert with Kagami. And maybe take her on an extended date. But he had to admit right now that dating her as Chat Noir when he was Adrien Agreste would lead to life getting weird.

But before he could think more on the subject, he heard a familiar ice cream cart tune. It was enough to make his kitty sense perk up. Andre was busy humming happy tunes until he finally noticed Chat Noir.

"Oh Chat Noir, hello!" Andre cried as he eagerly rolled his ice cream cart closer.

Chat Noir waved. "Hello, sir!"

Andre smiled. "You look like you could use some ice cream."

Chat Noir took a moment to scratch his head. "Yeah, I could use some ice cream. And I could use another date." He muttered.

Andre opened the lid to his cart, and Chat Noir was in awe of the triple-decker ice cream Andre pulled out. The colors of the flavors looked lovely.

"I think this dragonfruit, blackberry, and hazelnut cone will suit a hero like you just fine," Andre said.

Chat Noir took the ice cream and eagerly licked his lips. "Thank you, sir!"

"Thank nothing of it!" Andre cried. "It represents beautiful hazel eyes, lovely dark hair, and the heart of a dragon."

Chat gratefully paid for the ice cream, and he and the ice cream vendor fist-bumped before Chat could finally taste the new flavor combination.

He was beginning to enjoy the taste of dragonfruit, a fruit he could only remember eating once or twice. Blackberry was also a welcome taste since he was getting tired of blueberry desserts. And he adored hazelnut chocolate, but it was the smallest scoop, and he just wanted to go to the store for more hazelnut chocolate ice cream after he finished his cone.

But when he finished eating, he thought about Kagami. Gentle but strong, sweet, and fun, the ice cream reminded him of her.

He thought the heart of a dragon as he remembered how strong and graceful she was with fencing and archery: precious hazel eyes and beautiful dark hair.

He wondered if Kagami liked hazelnut ice cream as he left to find the nearest store.

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading! For a sneak peak, next chapter will feature Adrien and Adrigami! I will see all of you then!

This is Emiko Gale signing out! Sleep tight everyone!

#adrigami #chatgami #endgame adrigami #my writing #my fanfiction

[bikerjongho]

the convenience of the ocean | ateez ot8

genre: fluff, humor

characters: college student!ateez ot8

description: ATEEZ is free from school stress and can now enjoy themselves at the beach as a vacation. Naturally, their mischievousness and playfulness shines through while they’re there as tourists.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: N/A

author’s note: the second addition to the ateez music video series! masterlist (which lists the rest of them) here. also, hakuna matata ya @itsapapisongo​ >:)

The small convenience store nestled between the beach and a wave of hotels normally had about only ten people in it at one time. It was a small and cute little thing, and the eight boys on their razor scooters took note of it. Once they arrived at the store, they threw their scooters down onto the ground with a clatter before entering the store and doubling the people with their presence.

The band of friends had finally booked a fun vacation together at a local beach, ready to relax and unwind from college, work, and other activities. They traded their lived-in hoodies that smelled of stress and ramen for brightly colored Hawaiian shirts, sunglasses, and flip flops. Their hair was now unkept and messy from the wind and not from the lack of sleep. The sun was finally able to grace them after being stuck inside for school, and they all were beginning to sprout a lovely tan.

Wooyoung, an immediately friendly presence in the store, was the only one that waved at the cashier as greeting before hooking an arm around San's elbow and venturing off to the frozen section to look at ice cream and other sweet treats. Yeosang and Yunho murmured to each other about snacks in the snack section, while Mingi sat and stared at a sunglasses rack that was parked near the front of the store. Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and Jongho headed off to look at the soda, the only item in the store they intended to leave the store with.

And there was no intention of buying the soda. "That's a really small shop," San had commented as they rode down the boardwalk on their wheeled chariots. "We could probably steal soda from there." He had said it as a joke, but the more the group talked about it as they rode, the more they all were infected with the rush of stealing something.

The stealing wasn't for malicious purposes - they all had money, and they all didn't regularly steal from businesses. But the thought of being sneaky, dastardly, and just a little bit annoying after putting up with strict rules, homework, and constant vigilance that came with school taunted them like a devil with sin. And soda was not something that would be missed from a store, and they all agreed that it was delicious. "Let's never do this again," Hongjoong said seriously as they rode on their scooters, but he was smiling.

So it was set that the boys would steal a few cans of soda from a small beach convenience store. Everyone was put perfectly into place so the plan could be executed without a hitch. San and Wooyoung were meant to be a loud distraction, and it worked like a charm. Wooyoung made loud commentary about how mint chocolate ice cream was delicious, and San, who liked mint chocolate, argued that it was disgusting. Everyone's attention was focused on their chitter as Hongjoong, Jongho, and Seonghwa reached the soda aisle.

Jongho reached the soda first and, without preamble, began taking cans and unloading them into his bottomless swim trunks. Seonghwa strutted up to the aisle and shoved a few into a backpack he was wearing. Hongjoong threw the remaining soda into a floppy and summery bag that rested in the crook of his elbow. Wooyoung and San's bickering carried through the store, hiding attention from the three soda stealers.

Yunho and Yeosang continued to chat about snacks as the shelf of assorted snacks stared back at them. While they were all for the soda stealing, Yunho had pointed out that there needed to be a few normal people in the group since they were a large crowd. "Yeosang, you didn't just tell me you don't like animal crackers," Yunho sighed, the true expert of snacks and did not discriminate when eating them. "That's sacrilegious." He said this casually, easily, coolly, as Yunho usually was, which only stirred up Yeosang.

"What can I say, I just prefer things with a bit of tart," he replied, his soothing voice audible underneath San's emotional and loud damnation of mint chocolate ice cream.

Meanwhile, Mingi's job of staring at sunglasses and keeping the attention of the cashier was working a little too well. The cashier, a girl with short black hair and an ocean blue shirt, was staring at Mingi like she had never seen a man before. He pretended to not notice but still felt his knees turn into mush. She was pretty, after all. He turned his attention back to the sunglasses and found a few pairs that he really liked, though he knew they wouldn't be buying them anyway, considering that they were stealing soda.

Yunho and Yeosang appeared behind Mingi. "We're done," Yeosang said, which was code that their soda stealing had been a success. He tugged on Mingi's shirt.

"I genuinely like these, though," Mingi argued, picking up a dark and round pair of sunglasses. "And we're at the beach. It would make sense to have a pair."

"You know we can't get it," Yunho said sternly, which sounded like they didn't have enough money for the sunglasses. That wasn't the case, but they all agreed before that it would be weird to steal soda but buy anything else from the store. "Maybe later in the vacation."

The three main soda stealers were flocked together, now at the front of the store. The only one out of the three of them that seemed remotely suspicious was Jongho, with conspicuous lumps in the pockets of his red swim trunks, but they were only noticeable if a passerby really stared at his legs. And still, the cashier could not stop looking at Mingi. Wooyoung and San were trailing behind them, their mint chocolate debate prolonged and not just an act anymore. Hongjoong nudged them so they could be quiet. All they had to do was leave the store.

"Nothing caught your eye? That's too unfortunate," the cashier said as they all headed to the door to leave. Jongho looked like a deer caught in headlights, and he put his hands at his sides to cover up his pockets. Hongjoong nudged him.

"No, just looking," Hongjoong laughed. He slung his bag full of soda from the store closer to his body and gave a genuine smile to the cashier, who returned it. A few of them were staring adamantly at the floor like they had never seen floor before.

"Your sunglasses are really nice," Mingi commented, pointing over to the rack where he was at, giving a small grin to the cashier.

"But we don't need any," Seonghwa said, looking a little too firm. He nudged his head to the door.

"We don't want to spend too much money while we're here," Yunho added, nodding so genuinely to the cashier that the rest were convinced that he was telling the truth.

The cashier looked back and forth between Mingi and the sunglasses rack, caught in between two thoughts. Then, putting a finger over her mouth for them to be quiet, she pulled out a twenty dollar bill of her pants pocket and slid it into the cash register. "It's twenty dollars, right?" She asked, while Mingi's mouth hung open as the gears inside his head clicked. "Go ahead and take one, it's fine. I paid for it."

"Thank you!" A few of them cried immediately. Hongjoong's bag on his shoulder was now significantly heavier. Mingi carefully took the pair of sunglasses that he liked off of the rack and immediately put them on.

"Thanks so much!" He said, nodding gratefully to the cashier. The rest of them looked like they wanted to strangle him for leaving them in the store any longer. If only the cashier knew what they were doing with the soda.

"Well, have a nice day!" San sang to the cashier. They hauled themselves out of the store, Mingi, decked out in his new pair of shades, and the rest of them embarrassed by the cashier's blind kindness.

"Mint chocolate is the superior ice cream flavor," Wooyoung said to San, the first words spoken now that they were outside.

"It's really not," Hongjoong sighed. "My God, let's never do this again."

"We should do this again," Jongho said gleefully and pulled out a can of Coke from his swim trunks. Mingi and Yeosang also went directly for Jongho's swim trunks and pulled out their own cans from his pockets.

"You all act like you've never had soda before," Seonghwa judged, pulling out a can of his own from his backpack.

"Am I the only one that feels bad about this?" Hongjoong said. They all nodded at him, and Hongjoong sighed in defeat.

"Have a soda, Joong," San said cheerfully and pulled out a soda from Jongho's bottomless soda pockets and held it out for him. "Isn't their slogan 'you aren't you when you're thirsty?'"

"Snickers," Yunho and Wooyoung said in sync, looking at each other and sighing. Hongjoong looked at the Coke in San's hands before shaking his head and taking it.

"I guess what's done is done," he sighed before cracking it open and taking a sip. A few of them grinned as they watched him drink it.

"Well, that raised my adrenaline, I say we go to the beach," Yunho said cheerfully. "I'd like to get pummeled by a wave."

"Me too," Jongho sang, bouncing on the heels of his feet, already moving onto the next part of their day.

The boys began traversing towards their hotel to change, a bright yellow building that faced towards the ocean. "So," Mingi said as they walked into the hotel's main floor, "we can all agree that the cashier was into me?"

"Yes," they all chorused to him.

"If you didn't see it, you're as blind as a bat," Seonghwa grinned. Mingi adjusted his sunglasses, now carrying a new meaning, and smiled.

Through some miracle, they all fit in the elevator on the way up, but separate trips had to be made on the way down for beach supplies. They traded their Hawaiian shirts and loose t-shirts for tank tops, and their cargo pants for swim trunks.

Jongho took the pleasure of carrying all of the boogie boards down the elevator and out to the beach. Coupled with his overflowing red swim trunks and flip flops that slapped the ground every time he took a step, he looked like an excited little kid ready to be knocked out by a wave. Hongjoong brought a cooler filled with water bottles and a book for himself to read, and Seonghwa was sure to remember the sunscreen.

"Remember when I got that sick tan last summer?" Wooyoung grinned, watching Seonghwa fill his bag with a can of sunscreen.

"I remember, you looked like a Cheeto," Seonghwa said sweetly. He held out the sunscreen for him. "You should put this on."

Yeosang and Mingi were eager to carry all of the buckets and shovels for sandcastle making. How Yunho had acquired this absurd amount of buckets and shovels, they didn't know, but none of them were complaining. San had proposed a sandcastle making contest, so they were all eager to put his tools to good use.

For one last activity, Wooyoung made sure to grab a kite and a volleyball before exiting the hotel room. Soon enough, they were all on the beach.

San, eager to be soaking wet as soon as possible, ripped off his t-shirt and dove into the water, Wooyoung following in tow. Since there was a volleyball net nearby, Hongjoong, Yeosang, Jongho, and Yunho set themselves up for a match: Hongjoong and Yeosang versus Jongho and Yunho.

"Two-ho for the win," Yunho danced while Jongho nodded cheekily and picked up the volleyball. Hongjoong looked at Yeosang and shook his head. Yeosang reciprocated.

Decked out in a sleeveless tank top, there were more than a few girls that glanced at Jongho as he raised his muscled arms and served the ball over to the other side of the net. On the same leaf, San was looking too much like a model as he pushed his hair back every time came up from the water, chest fully exposed. However, the imagery of a swimsuit model was frequently ruined by Wooyoung, who was eager to tackle and splash him down into the waves.

Mingi had taken it upon himself to use the sandcastle equipment first, and was now digging a hole in the sand. "Can you cover me in sand when I'm finished?" He yelled to San and Wooyoung, who were more than happy to oblige. But from the way Mingi was digging, it was less of a trench and more of a completely vertical hole. Seonghwa had taken Hongjoong's book and was relaxing in a beach chair, his dark hair blowing in the salt-filled wind, making him look relaxed and regal.

And they did this for a while. Each time the volleyball teams scored, a stressful thought from the previous semester was swept away in the waves. Seonghwa became engrossed in Hongjoong's book and forgot all about grades he wasn't too proud of. San and Wooyoung washed away their worries in the waves. Mingi was shrieking too much while sand filled up his lower half in the hole to think about being stressed.

There was always something about the ocean, despite it being a sticky and hot summer day, despite the sand that was filling up in their pants, despite the screaming infants on blankets around them, that made it able to cradle and wash away any negative emotions from seasons past. The boys soaked in the sun and let the cold waves take them away.

In a few hours, the sun had lowered and painted a stunning pink and orange display across the sky. After a quick dinner break, the boys were back on the beach for their long-awaited sandcastle contest.

Wooyoung had rounded up a small boy to be the judge of their sandcastles. "I didn't round him up," Wooyoung groaned to Hongjoong while Hongjoong eyed him suspiciously. "He started playing with me and San in the water, now we're friends. And he said he'd judge our sandcastles! It'll be fine."

Sebastian, the boy, sat in the sand building his own sandcastle, making him the perfect judge. He couldn't have been more than six years old and had wild and curly black hair.

A few of the boys squatted down and waved to him, while Wooyoung ruffled his hair and gave him a squeeze. "Make sure to give me first place, okay?" He said and winked to Sebastian.

"If your sandcastle is good," Sebastian said wisely.

Ultimately, everyone decided that four teams of two would be best. The groups of two sat evenly spaced from each other: Yunho and Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Jongho, Mingi and Seonghwa, San and Yeosang.

"You have until Mommy says I need to go," Sebastian said, and they all looked to see his mother reading a book intensely a few feet away in a chair. They'd have unlimited time.

So the sandcastle match began: Yunho and Wooyoung opted for an old-time stone castle, complete with a drawbridge and moat for water. Wooyoung put little balls of sand at the bottom of the trench that he was digging for the moat. "They're alligators," he said, and Yunho rolled his eyes.

Hongjoong and Jongho chose a towering and thin castle that was remniscent of the one from Sleeping Beauty. Jongho suggested a dragon snaking around one of the towers, and Hongjoong tried his best to make one, but it ended up looking like a dog rather than a fierce winged creature. "Just tell Sebastian it's a flying dog, he'll think it's neat," Jongho murmured as he side-eyed Hongjoong's work.

Mingi and Seonghwa decided to make a mansion rather than a castle. With Seonghwa's attention to detail, the windows and ceilings of the mansion were pristine and perfect, while Mingi created the most structurally sound foundation for the house.

"Doesn't Bowser have a castle?" San asked Yeosang. The two of them ended up creating a rendition of Bowser's Castle, complete with fire jutting out of the sides and a moat filled with molten lava. San didn't have molten lava on hand to make it realistic, so they took Jongho's red beach towel and stuffed it into the moat.

They had all been watching Sebastian's mom carefully, and when the amount of pages she had left grew shorter and shorter, they rushed to finish up their castles.

"We totally won," Wooyoung grinned to everyone. He gestured to his and Yunho's classic stone sandcastle. It was impressive, but it was up to Sebastian to decide who would win.

Hongjoong's winged-dog looked menacing on his and Jongho's sandcastle, and the sole mansion made by Mingi and Seonghwa was a dream home.

"But does your castle have Bowser?" Yeosang asked, and gestured to his, San's, and Bowser's castle, where a mini Bowser stood at the front, claws out and mouth open in a roar.

"What do you think?" Yeosang continued, directing his question at Sebastian, who looked thoughtfully at them all. Sebastian had eight sets of eyes on him.

"Don't you want to live in a mansion?" Mingi whispered.

"Dog with wings, Sebastian," Jongho implored.

"Lava moat," San said.

"There's alligators in our moat," Wooyoung countered.

Sebastian looked back and forth at the four sandcastles. He stood up and walked around them, inspecting every inch of each. The boys held their breath when Sebastian walked by them like they were inexperienced chefs being judged by the master chef.

Finally, Sebastian stopped. He pointed to Jongho and Hongjoong's dragon-dog castle. "That one."

Jongho and Hongjoong erupted into victorious roars. Jongho picked up Hongjoong and spun him around while shouting while the rest of them shook their heads in defeat.

"But I liked all of them," Sebastian clarified, dragging his foot in the sand shyly. "I just liked the dog with wings."

"My terrible dragon won," Hongjoong sobbed.

Wooyoung dramatically slumped his shoulders. "Sebastian, I believed in you," he sighed, but went over and gave a pat on the head to the boy. "Thank you for being an excellent judge." The others murmured in agreement, and Sebastian gave a toothless and happy smile.

After Sebastian left with his mom, the eight boys agreed that it would be best to sit and watch the sun set while they admired each other's sandcastles. Hongjoong passed around their stolen sodas as they watched the last of the sun's rays wink over the horizon.

"If today went like this, tomorrow will be crazy, I'm sure," Yeosang said, content.

"We could upgrade and steal a table from a restaurant," Mingi suggested. "Or just Jongho could, since he's strong."

All of them laughed at that. "But today really was a great day," Seonghwa smiled. "Something about the ocean."

"Something about the ocean," a few of them agreed. The last of the sun vanished from view, turning the ocean water to a dark and deep blue. As they all settled together and turned their attention to the dark water, the eight of them casted a willowy silhouette against the sand as the moon peaked out and signaled the end of their day.

#ateezlovenet #kdiner #prism.nw #destinyverse #ateez #ot8 #ateez drabble #ateez imagine #ateez fic #ateez blurb #humor #fluff #ateez fluff #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #choi san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #f: ateez #f: ateez music video series #anne's writing

[sanieee]

ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖

Au: Non-idol au

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Summery: Are you lovers or strangers when you look eye to eye? You knew the answer when you asked him if you could call him yours.

Warnings: It may be longer than I expected it to be. Also, it was [again] inspired by The Chainsmokers. And it’s unedited so, if you see any mistakes, I will re-read it [for the 15th time] again. I’m making individual ones based on several songs.

Words: 2k 

“ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᶠᵃᵈᵉ“

                       ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛

Hongjoong ︳Seonghwa  ︳Yunho  ︳Yeosang ︳San ︳Mingi ︳Wooyoung ︳Jongho

༛༛ ༛༛ ༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛ ༛༛  ༛༛

Meeting Wooyoung was unexpected. Ending up being his significant other was also out of the blue. Your whole relationship was unlooked for, but amazing nevertheless. But when it started to go down hill, you couldn’t help but think of the happier days. 

You walked in the bar, there were hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing with the loud  music that resonated through the speakers. The crowd is young, students from university for the most part, and you were no exception. Your friends had been asking you to go out one night to the bar downtown with them, to have some fun and discuss some gossip if there was any. 

As you were looking for your friends, a pair of eyes were fixed on you since you stepped inside. He ran his fingers through his long dark locks, just to push away his bangs out of his eyesight the next second. He turned to his best friend, who was drinking away his problems. 

Taking away the glass from his hands, he nudged his shoulder.  A loud, “Who is she?” was heard by all the people at their table. Seven heads turned in different directions, but were quickly to turn back to him as they were not given any description of the girl he was looking for.  The oldest of the bunch took his glass up to his lips and after a sip asked “What does she look like?”

The younger boy laughed, and then described what you were wearing. After eight pairs of eyes were roaming through the whole bar, the youngest pointed at you with his head. “Her? She goes to my university.” He was not the type to go after someone for a long period of time, and his reputation of breaking hearts was well known, but he didn’t care as he saw your smile. 

He asked Jongho about you, and when he felt confident enough,  he got up his seat to go after you. He came up to you, tapped your shoulder and winked, you laughed as he told you:  “The name is Jung Wooyoung.” 

His presence was anticipated for you at first, but as the night progressed, you liked how easy going and funny he was, needless to say you had no intentions to push him away. You remember how much you laughed as he danced with you and tried to get you interested in him. But you were not the type of girl to go with the first guy that gives you attention. 

You thought he just liked you that night to have some fun, but it was a surprise to you when you saw him again in your campus. He claimed to pick up Jongho, but the boy was already an adult, so his lies were kind of messy. He brushed everything aside  and stuck to you for a few hours before leaving, and it happened for a few months. 

You were sure he was just playing with you, he would find another girl to trail after. His friends on the other hand, had never seen him so dedicated to anyone before. You claimed he was just a friend, and  he claimed you were going to be in his arms sooner or later. But did you feel anything for him? You weren’t sure. 

You weren’t sure until you saw him in a party hosted by one of your friends at the same bar you’ve met. He came up to you, asked you why you were there. “It’s Chan’s party, he’s my childhood friend so of course I came.” He handed you a glass with a smile, his arm around your shoulders as you looked for Chan. 

A few hours after, you were both sitting on the porch stairs. You took some pictures with both your phones, uploading some stories that you wouldn’t remember you posted in the morning. When the night was deep, when the lights had been on for a few hours, when you were drunk enough to forget you came with someone, you told him you were going home. 

But he didn’t want you to leave you yet. He wanted to spend more time with you. Taking you by the arm he asked you “Hey, what you doing for the rest of your life?" You knew what he wanted, and with a sly smirk you told him "Well, I don't even know what I'm doing tonight." 

He extended his hand to you, which you took softly, and the next thing you knew, you were running in the street towards the subway station. If people saw you, they would be worried while giving you weird glances, but you were having the time of your life. Later on, you were in front of the ticket machine, trying to get a ten trip pass. The reason why you didn't buy a ticket for each was because combining both your cash was at least  20$. 

You laughed as you took little steps to go up the station stairs after getting to your destination. He was pulling your arm with little to no strength, and you were leaning on the railing as your hair got in front of your face. 

When you finally climbed the stairs, Wooyoung pointed to a street stall. You both ran to get in line, and took out some of the left over cash you had in your pockets. He paid your order without landing his face on the floor and handed you a water bottle when he turned around. 

You sat on a bench as you leaned on him, sobering up as you ate French fries. When he asked you if you wanted an ice cream, you said yes as you got up and skipped over to a convenience store. 

And maybe it sounds so cliché, but he found you adorable when you picked your dessert. And he couldn’t stop looking at you as you smiled at him with the city lights behind. Maybe that’s why when he saw you had ice-cream at the corner of your lips, he bent down to give you a kiss.

It was sweet. It was soft. It was needy and it was all you would remember for the next few days. That night you felt free and totally forgot about all your problems. When you asked what it was for, he  claimed it was to wipe off the ice cream you had on your lips, since you didn’t have napkins. 

But let me tell you, it wasn’t the last time your lips collided. A few months had passed and it was clear you were more than friends, but nothing was official. Until he showed up at your university once again, and took you away from your friends, with their permission. 

While walking by the river, he had an urge to kiss you, and he did. Not surprised at all, you kissed him back, but as he pulled away he softly asked you a question you were surely not expecting. 

“Can I call you mine?”

You laughed shyly, taking him by his jacket while you nodded. 

But now he was busy, he didn’t have time for you. His college assignments were taking him away from you, and you couldn’t do much since you were also in your senior year. He got mad whenever you brought up how you were neglecting your relationship. And you stopped trying because the only thing it did was hurt you more. 

You talked about it with your friends, they told you to keep trying to talk to him because a relationship goes nowhere if there’s no communication. When you visited his dorm the next day, you went to his room to try again. 

But he was sleep deprived, he couldn’t think straight and he was absolutely not keeping up with you. When you had enough, you started screaming at each other. San and Jongho were in the living room, very aware that your relationship was not in its’ best moment. They were silent as they looked at their frozen phone screens, more interest in your… yelling. 

“Do you regret calling me yours?!” 

The boys knew it was over when they heard no response, and got surprised when you left with a loud bang while closing the door. When they went to Wooyoung, he was still in shock from your question. Of course he didn’t regret it, but he didn’t feel like you were in such bad terms for you to question his loyalty. San told him to man up and fix it, because if he didn’t, Jongho was going to slap some sense into him.

However, his actions weren’t done immediately. It took him several days to compose himself and imagine himself in your place. He did notice that you barely had time to see eye to eye. That sometimes he was in a rush and brushed past you as if you didn’t know each other. It felt like you were someone he knew, that you were slowly becoming strangers. 

However, with all the rage inside you, you decided to go out one night, tired of braking your head and thinking about him all day long. Dolling yourself up in front of your mirror and going to the bar downtown after calling some friends. And while you were drinking your third glass that night, Wooyoung passed through the door looking for you all alone. 

When he spotted you, he came and sat besides you on the bar stools, to try to get you to look at him. You did take a glace at him but looked the other way the second after. He sighed, he had to fix it but he didn’t know how so he went outside to clear his mind.  He left , which irked you a bit because you were convinced he was being a coward and letting all these years go to waste. 

As you hit the dance floor, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around and saw Wooyoung who was looking down with a sad smile. When you asked him what was wrong, because something inside of you just couldn’t help but to feel worried, he winked at you. You had a confused expression on, but it quickly turned into a smirk when he finger gunned you and told you “The name is Jung Wooyoung.” 

You couldn’t stay mad at him when he was trying to act like you were meeting for the first time. But unlike your first meeting, he took you by the hand and guided you outside. You leaned on the wall, as silence came upon both. But he inhaled deeply and looked at you.

“I will make it up to you.”

“How? Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He took both your hands, and brought you closer. His cologne smelled like home, he felt like home, you had the urge to hug him, but controlled yourself as you were still ‘mad’ at him. He brought your lips together, and closed the gap once your eyes weren’t looking at him anymore, but at his lips. 

When you separated, he laughed and you just rolled your eyes. You felt like that, that was the end of the night, you were going to go home, sleep and talk with him tomorrow. But he had other plans, as you walked away, he grabbed your arm.

“Hey, what you doing for the rest of your life?" 

You laughed wholeheartedly as you held onto him. 

 "Well, I don't even know what I'm doing tonight." 

Then just like before, you ran to catch the subway. Just like before, you barely had cash to pay individually. Just like before, you laughed your ass off as you tried to go up the stairs at the same station. But unlike before, neither of you were drunk, and you enjoyed your recreation even more than the original. 

You sat at the same bench you ate your French fries as he told you how sorry he was for neglecting your relationship, neglecting you. It wasn’t the best apology ever, I know, you know it, but it was sincere. Both of you promised to never let this happen again, and went to get the ice cream you bought at the same store previously.

As you finished, you were expecting a kiss afterwards, but you weren’t as sure because you had your messy eating habits out of your way. However, when he looked down at you, as he had his arm around your shoulders, he leaned to give you a gentle kiss. 

You smiled. He hugged you and snuggled up to you. All the anger banished away from you, and you weren’t mad at him anymore, you knew you could sort your chaotic schedules together. 

You went back home after feeling tired. He took you back to your apartment and laid in bed with you, he had clothes at your place for improvised occasions like this, so he wasn’t going to go to sleep with some jeans on. As he played with your hair, you were falling asleep. But before you could go to dreamland, he whispered everything you wanted to hear. 

"I never regretted the day that I called you mine, so I call you mine."

Both of you went to sleep with a smile on your faces, and woke up like nothing ever happened.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez wooyoung #ateez fluff #ateez au #ateez reactions #ateez reader insert #ateez angst #ateez drabbles #ateez oneshot

[transsergio]

154 ("Are you sure you two aren't married?") with Moreid !

this is an ask i asked myself (ashdsd) a month ago and i’ve had the draft sitting in my docs for that long it’s driving me nuts just t a k e  i t (ROUGH EDITING WARNING)

1.5k words, Moreid, rated G for God Why Can’t I Finish Anything

The case was over. At least, in terms of the unsub. In terms of their trip home, they were yet to leave LA. The rest of the team were on their way to the airport, but Morgan demanded a detour.

“We’re going to make everyone wait,” Spencer complained.

Morgan shrugged, casually parallel parking their hulking SUV. He leaned over the center console and pointed at the coffee shop wedged into the street corner. “The team will be fine. I need whatever they’re selling if you want to make it to the jet in one piece.”

Spencer sighed but gathered his shoulder bag in his lap. If nothing else, he really didn’t want to spend any more time in the California heat. How many cases did they really need in the dead of summer? Spencer knew the statistic, but it didn’t make the temperature bearable.

Before Spencer could reach for his door handle, Morgan had yanked it aside for him. He beamed down at Reid like this was some kind of victory.

“I can open my own doors,” Spencer grumbled as he scrambled from the car. Morgan scoffed behind him.

“I would also accept a ‘thank you’,” he teased.

Spencer didn’t return the favor. Instead, he strode into the coffee shop by himself and let the glass door shut behind him. He only looked over his shoulder once he’d claimed a place in line. Waiting in the Los Angeles sunshine, Morgan stood with his hands on his hips and an eyebrow raised. Spencer was sure he was glaring behind the sunglasses as he stood, statuesque, a full ten to twenty seconds before breaking down and opening the door himself. Spencer didn’t try to hide his smirk.

The line was only six or so customers long, but the room was tight. There were no tables inside, only staggered chairs to discourage patrons from sitting around and having a bite. Nonetheless, the glass case beside the register was stuffed with pastries – most of which were loaded with some kind of cream cheese. While Spencer debated going back to the car and grabbing his Lactaid, Morgan scanned for the options with the most protein.

They shuffled forward bit by bit and tried to settle their order, knowing Derek would be the one to do the talking.

“I’ve got a tall black coffee and a breakfast sandwich. You?”

“Do you think they do Frappuccinos?”

“I would say, yeah. This is LA, Reid.”

“Fair point. Alright, then an iced caramel Frappuccino and… a chocolate croissant.”

Morgan folded his arms over his chest. “Really? You’re going to put away all that dairy?”

Another customer cleared the counter and they inched closer.

“Yes, Morgan, really. I know what I’m doing.” Reid rolled his eyes.

“I know you do. But I’m the one sitting next to you in a metal tube for five hours.”

“So?” The more Morgan tried to parent him, the more defensive Spencer became. “Parent” wasn’t even the right word, but Spencer was never sure what Morgan was doing – it felt protective, but verged on condescending. And it was different when they were out in the field. Reid didn’t mind being tackled to the ground when they were suddenly under gunfire, even if he whined about grass stains later. Morgan never hit him too hard anyway. What he did mind was being thought of as a child, even if he was one comparatively.

Morgan shrugged. “Don’t come crawling to me when you’re gassy for half the flight.”

This conversation was now bordering on paternal.

Spencer kept his mouth shut as they scooted over the sticky tile floors. God, he wanted to go home. When they finally reached the register, he cringed as Derek laid his palms on the cashier’s counter. He watched Morgan mask his disgust as he slowly drew his hands back and wiped them on his pants. At least they had that much in common.

The cashier took Derek’s order and asked, “Anything else?”

Derek looked to Reid expectantly. Spencer furrowed his brown and nodded. Morgan didn’t need to double-check with him. He was an adult who’d made up his own mind, for the love of God.

Derek returned to the barista as if they were throwing caution to the wind. “And I guess, a grande caramel Frappucino with a chocolate croissant, please.”

“Iced,” Spencer mumbled, nudging Derek’s elbow.

“Sorry, an iced grande caramel Frappucino.”

The barista’s eyes flitted between the two of them, though she said nothing. She handed Derek his change and they moved to wait at the end of the counter.

“Was that so hard?” Spencer asked under his breath. He didn’t need to glance up to know Derek heard him; Derek always did, even when the team was working too fast and their voices piled on top of each other. Spencer’d have his eyes trained on some mark in the table, a wrinkle in their documents, or the only non-bloodied piece of evidence as he spoke. When he eventually made eye contact, Derek would be set on him and him only. Reid wasn’t sure if he felt like he was being watched, or paid attention.

And since Derek made no comment, he must’ve ignored him. Like he was a petulant child.

Or, he was still trying to wipe the mess from his hands.

When Spencer realized it was the latter, he dug into the outside pocket of his bag.

“Here,” he offered, taking Derek’s hand in his own. He squirted a hefty helping of hand sanitizer into Morgan’s palm and without thinking, rubbed it in himself. It was an economic decision, Spencer decided, considering he only had so much hand sanitizer. Sharing is caring, right?

Morgan kept quiet until the little bottle was tucked into Reid’s satchel again. He murmured, “Thanks.”

Spencer nodded. It was Derek’s turn to avoid eye contact. Maybe he just didn’t like the reverse; that Spencer could take care of him for a change.

“Reid? Spencer Reid, your order’s ready,” a barista called.

Spencer rolled his eyes. Of course Morgan used his name. It was a turn-taking system that allowed Spencer to speak as little as possible, but made Morgan feel like coffee was a two-person job.

At least they each carried their own drinks. As they were heading out, Morgan ahead of Spencer just to hold the door for him, the barista yelled after them.

“Mr. Reid, wait! Your husband’s food!”

Spencer whirled on his heels to see one of the staff dangling a paper bag over the edge of the counter. He stumbled towards them with intermittent glances behind to make sure Morgan didn’t follow him. God, he hoped Derek didn’t hear that. The whole jet would be in on the joke in under an hour.

Reid thanked them and took Morgan’s sandwich, all while trying to correct the mistake. “Actually, we’re just co-workers.”

The barista looked him up and down. “You sure you two aren’t married?”

“Pretty sure,” his voice cracked, “But, thanks again.”

Reid’s cheeks heated. They had to be bright red. He could hope he was as pasty as always, but he’d also need Morgan to be so hungry he didn’t notice… whatever this was. Spencer had been humiliated plenty of times in his life, and this didn’t feel like that. It wasn’t his mistake, after all. But something inside him burned.

Sure, there were indicators that they were closer than your average peers. Those same indicators popped up with everyone in the unit. It was bound to happen when you spent the majority of your time around the same six people, more-so when four of those six people were highly trained behavior analysts. But had anyone ever thought he was dating Prentiss, or engaged to Rossi? If they did, they’d never be confident enough to say it out loud.

Spencer flashed through the last twenty minutes of his life. He had never shared hand sanitizer with Prentiss, had never had Rossi care enough about his dairy intake to say something. Had never felt so over-protected and playful and embarrassed at the same time. Was that how Morgan flirted? It couldn’t be. He saw how Morgan and Penelope treated each other. It was blatant, grossly sweet, or plainly gross. But they were kidding (on some level). If Morgan was genuinely flirting, would he hide it?

He was at the car before he could come to a conclusion. Morgan swung into the driver’s seat and took his sandwich from Spencer’s limp hands.

“Reid. Kid. What’s going on?”

“What?” Spencer asked. He turned to Morgan. Derek’s sunglasses sat lower on his nose now. His brow was creased and he held Spencer at eye contact-gun point.

“What’d the barista say in there? Looked like you were talking.”

“Oh,” Spencer shook his head. He tried to focus on situating his bag under his seat. “Nothing. Just making sure it was the right order.”

“You sure?”

Spencer sighed. “Yes, Mom. I’m sure.”

Derek backed onto the street and the tangled web of LA highways in silence. The radio filled in some of the gaps as Reid fiddled with the stations and LA drivers were liberal with their car horns. As they slowed into stop and start traffic, Derek relaxed his grip on the wheel. He cocked his head to the side.

“Kid?”

“Yeah?”

“Never call me ‘Mom’ again.”

Oh. So maybe this wasn’t paternal after all. Reid blushed.

#criminal minds #moreid #derek morgan #spencer reid #cm #mine #Anonymous

[jojoboisimagines]

Josuke x Reader :: Promposal :: Ch. 5

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summary: A strange new transfer student has enrolled in Budogaoka High School. Josuke falls head over heels for her, but has a limited time to win her over before the school prom.

.::.

The accusations thrown at Josuke by his baffled mother were hard to listen to, especially with your face practically burning from it and hearing only ringing in your ears from the shock alone and having to sit in the midst of the two arguing. You decided your best bet was to hurry, pack your stuff and leave. You’d maybe call him later to let him know why you left and tell him that your time together was great, lest he get the wrong idea.

It was easy to sneak past them. They did seem like the types to block everything else out when stubborn. Perhaps that's why some considered him and his friends delinquents.

.::.

About an hour later, you found yourself dialing Josuke’s number (or well, his house number) while lazily lying on the bed of your temporary apartment. He had written it at the bottom of his love letter, which you actually bothered to keep amongst all the other ones. 

“Yeah, I see. Thanks for calling me instead of just leaving me hangin’.”

“No problem...I’ll see you tomorrow at school. Sorry for any trouble I’ve caused.”

“No no”, he was quick to disagree, “It’s fine, my mom just gets fussy like that sometimes, its not your fault at all. To be fair I should’ve been paying more attention.”

You frowned. He shouldn’t have blamed himself. You weren’t being entirely courteous as a guest either to fall asleep on him like that. He spoke up before you could say anything about it.

“Did you have fun though---er, get a good study in? I know I did. Cleared up a lot of stuff I was missin’ during class. Thanks a lot for that!” You could hear the grin in his voice. Admittedly, he had a nice voice to listen to. But you convinced yourself that was just a supplementary compliment rather than you starting to have a school girl crush on him like the rest of his groupies.

You wondered what drew them to him in the first place. Was it his hair? It would seem like he’d take pride in having groupies if it was for that reason, being so uptight about his hairstyle and all. Yet he would always look so annoyed whenever they came up to him, so that probably wasn’t the reason. His personality? No, they hardly let him get a word in whenever they bombard him. His height?

...Fair assumption.

“Hey, (Y/N), you there?”

Crap, had you been spacing out?

“Yeah, I’m here.” You replied, rubbing your eyes.

“Do you have time tomorrow for ice cream after school? Its totally cool if you’re not, I understand.”

You did have a bit of studying to do to keep your grades up (and to keep up appearances, but that was less important) but keeping Josuke happy in your friendship did also mean something to you. Skipping one study session wouldn’t be that much of a deal, you could skim through it once you get home anyway.

“Oh no no, I’m down for it.”

Josuke’s tone noticeably turned up an octave after hearing that. “Cool! You wanna come by my house or I’ll come by yours?”

After saying he could pick you up from your own house (especially thinking about how Tomoko would react) he joyfully lets out a ‘sweet!’ and you exchange your goodbyes before hanging up.

One thing you could safely say about Josuke at this point is that he was certainly...interesting. If you had to weigh your options between giving everyone that sent you a letter an opportunity to court you and just only giving Josuke a chance for the time being, the latter set well with you far more.

.::.

Classes had passed by rather quickly. It almost seemed like a blur but you didn’t mind it. At first the thought of instantly going home and looking over the notes you took to refresh your memory came into your head, before Josuke and Okuyasu voices behind you made you realize what you had planned already. You had recognized the other two, but hadn’t bothered to hold a single conversation with either of them. 

As far as you knew, they were just ‘the guy who looks like he’s still in elementary’ and ‘the guy that looks like he’s committed a crime before’.

However you would withhold your assumptions for the time being and attempt to get to know them truthfully. They seemed excited to see you, anyway.

“Glad to see you waited for us (y/n!)” Josuke happily said.

You didn’t really. But you forced a smile as if you did anyway.

Josuke stopped behind you and contemplated putting an arm around you like he would his other buddies, but decided against it, thinking maybe the two of you weren’t at that point yet. You didn’t exactly seem like the touchy type either. Instead his hand firmly rested on your shoulder, his face offering a kind, genuine smile towards you. 

Gesturing toward his friends, he began to introduce them. “(Y/n), this is Okuyasu Nijimura and Koichi Hirose. They’ve kinda been excited to meet ya ever since we started hanging out.” Josuke lets out quite the cute chuckle as his free hand finds itself sheepishly behind his neck now.

“Yo!” Okuyasu was quick to greet you with quite possibly the biggest grin you’ve seen anyone sport since you’ve gotten to this country. Koichi on the other hand seemed a little more calm and reserved, saying a simple ‘hello!’ with a wave.

They didn’t seem too bad now as you had thought before, but you’d keep your eye on them. After the introduction Josuke had mentioned that itd be wise to get to the ice cream truck as soon as possible, seeing that it might leave the neighborhood soon. You still were a bit unfamiliar with the area, so you followed behind the other three and let them lead the way.

.::.

When the four of you finally arrived to the spot of the parked vehicle, you had just noticed that you’d tuned out the conversation that was had on the way here. Now that you think about it, Okuyasu was pretty swift to wrap an arm around his taller friend’s shoulder and immediately start talking about something else. Maybe it was just your imagination, but you had thought Josuke would’ve been inclined to talk to you during the brief walk. That’s what you were invited for, right? Or is this just what he does with all his friends?

The lack of attention didn’t bother you that badly, as you’re generally used to it, but you still couldn’t help but wonder.

You had walked up to the window to get your own ice cream, before Koichi promptly stopped you, pulling out his own wallet.

“Hey, I can pay for your ice cream for you!”

You blinked, not exactly sure how you were supposed to respond to that. “It’s alright, you don’t have to.”

“No I insist! Don’t worry about it okay?” The small boy smiled at you, a face that was pretty hard for you to resist. Giving a slight nod, he proceeded to pay for it. You did get the biggest size they offered though, who’s to say you couldn’t after he graciously agreed to pay?

You and Koichi walked back to the others, already sitting down in the park with the ice creams and chatting. As you were making your way over there, Josuke looked back at the two of you, his happy grin melding into a guilty wide-eyed frown.

He turned back around when you and his other friend walked past the bench he and Okuyasu sat on to go to another one across from them. Without even glancing at him, you started to eat your ice cream. From the corner of your eye you could see the pompadoured teen lightly tap his clueless friend, motioning them to move to the same bench you and Koichi were.

Trying to prevent things from becoming awkward, Josuke immediately started talking to you as he sat down. “So, (Y/n), is that your favorite flavor?”

You nodded, not trying to get distracted from your melting ice cream.

“Cool, I like that flavor too. I really really like strawberry though, especially the kind they have at the truck.”

“Strawberry’s a good flavor.” Okuyasu chimed in. “But Koichi likes nasty shit, like pistachio. Bleh!” He stuck his tongue out to emphasize his disgust. The shorter teen was slightly offended.

“Hey, its good with the right toppings! At least I don’t bombard my ice cream with everything, if you’re careless like that, you’ll get a cavity!”

Oku dismissively waved his hand. “Whatever. I’ll just go to Tonio’s again and it’ll be good as new, so there’s no problem!” He grinned.

Koichi sighed, and you were left wondering what kind of place “Tonio’s” was.

“Oh right, we need to take (Y/n)-chan there someday!” Josuke added. “Maybe we should do a little tour thing of Morioh for you, would you like that?”

You happily nodded, almost at the end of your ice cream. The three of them had gotten along so naturally

Eventually everyone else got done with theirs and began to throw everything away. Koichi had started on his way home, saying that he was going to start on his studying before his goodbye. Thinking you should do the same, Josuke walked in front of you.

“Hey me and Okuyasu are gonna hang at my house, so we can walk you home first okay?” 

“Okay.” Probably the first time you said something in about an hour. You saw Okuyasu about to walk up with Josuke again, but was stopped immediately and whispered something by Josuke. After which, he hung behind the two of you for the remainder of the walk.

When your apartment was reached, The boys asked if you enjoyed yourself and you happily responded with yes and that you’d love to hang out again, before going up the stairs and waving goodbye.

The two of them stood there for a while, making sure you were safe up until you got inside the house. As you closed the door, Josuke let out a groan and his head sunk into his hands. Okuyasu, obviously concerned by this, put a hand on his shoulder.

“Bro? You okay?”

Jojo shook his head. “Ughh..I can’t believe I let that happen. She must’ve felt so left out. I didn’t even pay enough attention that Koichi paid for her stuff..god..That didn’t look good at all.”

“Hey, you’re not obligated to treat her like a queen or anythin’. You’re still just friends right now right?” He tried to reassure his downtrodden friend.

“Yeah but...I still feel like a dick. I invited her there..Plus there’s also the fact that she’s got a limited time here in Morioh..” His blue eyes widened after saying that statement, the realization just now hitting him. It was so silent all the boys could hear was the slight breeze ruffling the trees.

“Huh, now that I think about it, why are you tryin’ to woo someone who’s a transfer student? Seems kinda rough to get someone to fall for you in a few weeks...unless you’re Yukako.”

“Goddammit Okuyasu, I don’t get to choose who I fall in love with!” 

His fist balled up again, lips going dry as he resented saying things before thinking about them first. 

“Woah...Josuke..”

Before he could say anything else, the teens noticed a slight shift in the window blinds where a light was on in your apartment. 

‘Holy crap, i hope thats not her, i’d shit myself if it is!’

“C-C’mon Okuyasu, lets get out of here, I-I’ll race you!” He bolted down the sidewalk in the direction of his house, with his best friend in tow. 

It was you who had peeked out the window from your living room, but only because you were startled by the sound of someone shouting. You didn’t see anyone when you fully pulled the blinds back, must’ve been your imagination. Putting the window back as it was, you returned to your studying.

#josuke x reader #Josuke Higashikata #josuke imagine #josuke higashikata x reader #jjba x reader #jjba imagine #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken

[bombshellbois]

Bait

@harringroveweekoflove

Harringrove Week of Love Day 2: Mythological Creature AU

Rating: T

Words: 1641

Summary: Steve is barely paid enough to scoop ice cream under the hot sun at the Hawkins Aquarium. He's definitely not paid enough to deal with their asshole of a science project.

Steve is used to Dr. Owens showing up at his job by now. The Scoops Ahoy stand at the Hawkins Aquarium sees most of the science staff at some point because Indiana summers are fucking hot and a 15% employee discount is a 15% employee discount. Dr. Owens doesn’t come for the ice cream, though. He comes to ruin Steve’s day, usually carrying a bucket of raw fish for the... secondary duties Steve has now. 

There is no bucket today. There’s a black eye, a busted lip, and a ruined wetsuit under a Hawkins Aquarium windbreaker, but no bucket. The signs of carnage are not uncommon either. 

“Harrington.”

“Still think having a mermaid in an aquarium is a good idea?” Steve asks, glancing at him briefly before he goes back to wiping down the stand’s serving counter. 

“I didn’t ask your opinion,” Owens says shortly. Talking splits his lip back open.

“But you want something from me.”

“You’re on the clock, aren’t you?”

Steve could argue, and sometimes he has, that he’s on Scoops Ahoy’s clock, not Owens’. Not even the aquarium’s, technically. And he’s being paid 3 bucks an hour to sling ice cream, not deal with the world’s first known mermaid. But Owens seems to be having a tough day, so he lets it go. 

“Fine. Robin will be back from her break in 5 minutes. What do you need?”

***

Once Robin is firmly in charge of the ice cream scoop, Steve heads to the giant laboratory at the back of the aquarium. The heavy door buzzes open as soon as whoever watches the cameras sees him coming. Yeah, they all know him here, the asshole in the sailor uniform who’s Owens’ bitch.

‘We need to clean the tank,’ Owens had said. Which meant they needed to empty the tank first. 

Billy wasn’t having any of that, apparently. 

Steve sighs as he climbs the industrial staircase up to the top of the massive 2-story tank. There’s a lot of humming in his ears from the giant industrial filter and all the equipment in the room. He can’t hear shit inside the tank, but he doesn’t need to. A cursory glance over his shoulder confirms that, yep, as per usual, he’s got a mermaid following behind him. Probably staring at his ass. 

Billy pops up at the top of the tank, folding his arms on the rim of it as Steve reaches the top of the stairs. He shakes his head of wet, blond curls out, and grins when water splatters all over Steve’s blue work uniform. Steve has no idea where a mermaid learned to be such an asshole. 

“Hey, pretty boy,” he says, running his tongue over his sharp teeth. Steve doesn’t know where he learned that either. 

“Why are you roughing up Owens?” Steve asks, crouching on the platform along the lip of the tank, bringing himself down to Billy’s height. “You always bitch that your tank isn’t clean enough.”

“It’s not. Because it’s a fucking tank and not an ocean.” Billy flashes him a grin that shows off his teeth, like rows of pins. “What can I say? They don’t handle the merchandise correctly.”

Steve gives Billy a critical once-over. He’s all muscle, from the sturdy human trunk to the thick red tail that Steve has seen him use to break ribs. “Too delicate for Owens’ handling? That’s what you’re sticking with?”

Billy scrunches his nose, and that’s all the warning Steve gets. The giant fan of his tail fin pops out of the water and slaps down on the surface, hard. It sprays Steve with more cold water that definitely, definitely needs that cleaning. He coughs and splutters, fumbling for his hat when it falls. Billy makes a grab for it, but Steve manages to slap his hand away. This time. Billy already has two of these stashed somewhere in his tank, and Steve’s boss is going to start charging him if he keeps losing them. Even if it’s aquarium property that’s stealing them.

“Were you saying something there, princess?”

“Asshole.” Steve drops his weight back and sits on his butt. “What’s got your mer-panties in a wad? Seriously.”

Billy’s tail fin slides back under the water and he shrugs. “Where’ve you been? You haven’t come to see me.”

Ah. That’s probably it. “Missed me?” 

That earns him a dramatic rolling of eyes as if Billy has ever heard of anything so absurd. As if he hasn’t just roughed up a man in his fifties to get Steve to come to his tank. As if Steve is somehow the unreasonable one here.

“It’s okay if you did.” 

“We don’t feel shit like that. Merfolk aren’t pussies.”

Steve is pretty sure that’s a lie. According to Owens, mermaids might have a very complex system of interpersonal relationships, which may or may not include bonding the way humans do, blah blah blah. From what Steve can tell, Billy’s pretty human in respect to how his emotions work. He’s just a typical guy about them, meaning he doesn’t want to talk about them or acknowledge that they exist. 

He really hates that he’s the emotionally mature one here. That is not a thing that should be happening in Steve’s life right now. Robin has already confirmed for him that if emotions were a car, he wouldn’t even have a learner’s permit. He’d still be on roller skates. It’s a sound analogy, and it’s comforting because it confirms what Steve pretty much already knew. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you,” he says because it’s just faster. Pointing out that he’s not allowed inside this place unless Owens has requested his help won’t end well. Steve is pretty sure that’ll make Billy  just dig in his proverbial heels every time he wants to see Steve. That’s kind of sweet, in a Billy sort of way, but Steve doesn’t want to suddenly find himself working six days a week and on-call for Sundays even though the aquarium is closed. Easier to just take the blame. 

Billy huffs a breath out through his nose. “You’re just being nice so I’ll let them clean the tank.”

“And you were only an asshole to Owens so I’d show up and be nice to you,” Steve points out. He’s learned not to let Billy’s bullshit slide. He might be some majestic legend of the sea, but he’s also an asshole. And an opportunist. 

Billy breaks out into a grin, doing that Thing with his tongue again. “You got me.”

“So. Will you let them clean the tank?” Steve asks. “I’ll bring you your lunch in the holding tank and tell you about the bullshit new ice cream flavor they’re making us push.”

Billy looks up and off to one side as if he’s considering it. “Hm... sure.”

That was relatively easy. Small mercies. “Awesome,” Steve says, getting to his feet, sneakers squeaking on the wet platform. “I’ll tell Owens to get that hammock thing th—“

“But only if you carry me.”

Steve stares down at him. Billy just gives him a shit-eating grin, popping his tail fin back up and swaying it in what Steve swears is a taunt. Not that he knows anything about mermaid body language but that... that’s taunting right there. 

“No.”

“Then I’m not leaving my tank.”

“Billy.”

“Steve.”

Steve flails helplessly, gesturing to include all of Billy. “Dude. You’re over 200 lbs.”

Billy fakes an affronted look and pats his sculpted abdomen. “Hey. I’ve been watching my figure.”

“Your tail is the size of a person.”

“Only a small-to-medium size person.”

“I am not hauling your slimy ass down two flights of stairs.” Steve is not paid enough for this bullshit to begin with, but this is a whole new level of paid that he’s not getting. 

“Excuse you, I am not slimy!” Billy strikes the water again with his tail on a hard angle, sending a small wave of water crashing over Steve. Then he shoves back from the side of the tank and starts to submerge. 

“No, no, no!” Steve coughs and wipes the water from his face, crouching back down. “Okay. Okay, you win, I’ll carry you.”

Billy pauses and raises an eyebrow. “...And?”

“And... you’re not slimy.” Steve has no idea if that’s true or not because he doesn’t usually have to haul Billy’s entire ass around. But apparently, he’s about to find out. 

***

Getting down two flights of industrial stairs with a mermaid whose tail is the size of Steve when the whole thing is out of the water is... interesting. In a lot of bad ways. Steve’s arms feel like they might rip out of his sockets after the first  five steps because Billy is well over 200 lbs of muscle and fucking fish scales and maybe he’s not slimy but he’s definitely slippery. And then he has to get up a half flight of stairs to get Billy to the smaller holding tank. 

Billy thinks the whole thing is hilarious, and also steals his hat in the process. 

The only satisfaction Steve gets is dropping Billy’s heavy mer-ass into the holding tank completely without ceremony. Which, as he should have remembered, does the same thing as dropping any other large, heavy object into the water. Steve gets soaked for a third time today when the wave it creates crashes over him, but at least this one doesn’t reek. And maybe it even gets some of the fish smell out of his uniform. 

Billy pops back up from the water, laughing his ass off. “Good thing you look good wet, pretty boy,” he says, leaning on the side of his tank. “Now I believe you said something about lunch?” He snaps his fingers twice. “Chop, chop, I’m starving.”

Mermaids are assholes and Steve is absolutely not paid enough to deal with them.

#my writing #harringrove week of love #harringrove #billy/steve #the repeating theme here is that Steve is tired and underpaid #so it's pretty much canon-compliant #except Billy has a tail

[kurinoot]

[day 1] one box of chocolates | tendou satori

-> you’ve been wanting to surprise your boyfriend with your own batch of chocolates and better yet, grace him with your presence this coming valentines. to your shock, you got more than what you thought it would be.

pairing: tendou x reader

themes: fluff, post-timeskip

word count: 2125 words

author’s note: I can’t believe I’m writing again! hahaha, and tendou being my first haikyuu character to create a fic uwu anyways, he was kinda hard to write on as he only got shots from seasons 3 and 4, so this may somehow seem ooc but please, I do accept constructive criticisms :) enjoy!

btw, I added a music in specific parts of the story so you can play them if you want so as to add some touches while you’re reading :)

"Ah, I hope the chocolates haven't melted yet!", you sigh tiredly with worry as you scramble your hand inside your carry-on bag, carefully checking your box of handmade chocolates as you make your way through the bustling Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport. The almost 14-hour non-stop flight has definitely taken a toll on you and the jet lag is definitely not helping you either.

You finally feel the cold air kissing your skin as you drag your way out of the airport, gingerly carrying your baggage all the while ensuring that your handmade gift is in good hands. Apparently, you weren't informed that Paris in February would require you more layers of clothing than what the thin sweater you’re wearing could offer. With a rush, you immediately went to the nearest vacant taxi. You rattled your brain for some basic French, muttering a soft “Bonjour” as you pinpoint the driver to your phone, showing him your destination. After a while, you finally feel the weight of the jet lag in your body. You deeply sigh as you finally let yourself sink in the back seat of the taxi. The driver seemed to know something, if you fumbling with your words and the way you slumped on the back seat was a sign.

"Rough day, mademoiselle?", the driver asks you in English (to, at least, your surprise) with a rough French accent, smiling. You brighten up a bit despite the stress, "Uh yes, monsieur. Am I right? It's probably the jet lag, but yeah.".

"Don't worry, your basic French is good! So, what is a young mademoiselle doing here alone? And on Valentines’ Day?”

“Ah merci! I’m actually here to visit this chocolate shop.”, you reply with a bright smile as you pinpoint your phone to the said location once again. He grins, to your surprise.

“Ah yes! That shop is actually famous around these parts, especially this Valentines’ season. Although, the owner is quite weird and even creepy for most people from what I heard around here.”, he mentions, and despite getting accustomed to how most people see Satori, you felt your hand cusp into a fist as you gritted your teeth, seething in annoyance and preparing to fight back or even to get off the taxi.

“Yet despite the rumors, he’s a kind young man. Eccentric one, I admit, but he knows the chocolate fit for the customer. Hell, he even helped me pick for my wife!” The driver continues, chuckling at the memory.

You feel all the anger in you disappear, proud of your boyfriend, as it was somewhat kind of rare for you to hear good compliments about him, “That’s just probably how other people see him. I would say, he’s a tad too eccentric for most people. He’s kind and soft-hearted and cute if you get to know him beyond the surface.”, you reply languidly with proud eyes.

You saw his eyes glance at you, before looking back at the road.

Unknowingly, your smile didn’t falter at the memory of Satori. “In fact, the owner is my boyfriend! And I’m actually here to visit — or rather, surprise him today!”

The driver chuckled softly, “Figures. You were talking about the owner like he’s your lover, and,” He paused, his eyes gazed towards the photograph of a woman that you took notice of earlier. “I can say the same.” His voice became tender as he continued driving.

You have finally arrived at your boyfriend’s little happy place, much to your joy and excitement. You immediately paid the driver and thanked him for the ride (and for the conversation). As soon as you get out of the cab, the driver calls you out, rummages something from a compartment in his cab, and surprises you with a lush red rose, thankfully free of its prickly thorns.

"You somehow remind me of me and my wife when we were younger, and it's Valentines' Season and better yet, you're in the City of Love! So please, take this as a Valentines' souvenir, mademoiselle".

"Oh you didn't have to, monsieur!"

“Good luck with that boyfriend of yours, mademoiselle! Yer both lucky to have each other.”, he says, somehow inspired by how you defended Satori as he mutters an ‘ah, young love’ to himself afterwards as he waves before driving to his next destination. Despite the jet lag creeping in your system, you grasp the remaining energy you have to at least surprise your boyfriend with your presence in the spirit of Valentines' Day in the City of Love.

I can't believe I'm in Paris, and I'm seeing Satori's shop for the first time!, you thought as you giddily reached for the eccentric gold-gilded handle of the door, slowly opening the door to the shop. The instant scent of the cocoa hit right through your senses as your eyes ran across the various chocolates on display. Walking further, you were graced with the view of your beloved with his back on you, occupied with washing his tools to finish the day as he sways his hips to the rhythm of the song he’s humming so softly.

He stops humming as soon as he hears the chime of the door bell, "Je suis désolée, on est fermé. (I’m sorry, we’re closed)", you hear Satori with bits of his Japanese accent as he continued humming afterwards, clueless of who had entered his shop.

"Well, I was thinking of grabbing a Valentines' special with my boyfriend.", you replied teasingly, emphasizing the word boyfriend, which left the budding chocolatier a bit frozen in shock as he turned to your direction with wide eyes before shifting to a smirk as he leans on the countertop, narrowing his eyes towards you as an “Oh, what do we have here?” leaves his mouth.

“My Sugar!”, he nearly screamed, seeing you as he dropped everything he’s doing and rushed to hug you tightly, not caring about his wet hands.

You lovingly welcome his arms as you hug him back tightly, soaking in his presence after being separated for so long.

“I missed you so much, Satori!”, you pout as you felt him tightening his embrace, as you savored his warmth after a long flight, his breath tickling the nape of your neck. You gasp a little bit as he gently caresses your hair, maximizing his hug with you to finally see, touch, and feel you in person.

You felt Satori loosen his arms, as you immediately replaced with the warmth of the Parisian cold, much to your disappointment. Without you knowing, Satori sees even the slightest of your body trembling from the current weather and rushes back in the kitchen to grab his Shiratorizawa jacket, much to your surprise. He then returns to you, gracefully sliding the jacket over your shoulders.

You pout at him with a prominent blush on your plump cheeks, “Thank you, Satori”, to which he replies with another hug much tighter compared to the one a few minutes ago.

“I love, love, LOVE you so much, my chocolate ice cream!”, he exclaimes as you were suddenly smothered with a couple of pecks — light kisses on your head. You snuggled closer to his chest, eagerly smelling his sweet scent of chocolate that suddenly reminded you of your handmade chocolate that you’ve left unattended for hours. You quickly scramble away from the contact, much to your endearing boyfriend’s curiosity, to see if the chocolate has withstood not only the long flight, but also Satori’s warm, tight hugs. Luckily, the red cardboard box was sturdy enough and only had a couple dents — making you sigh in relief. As soon as you pull out the box, you see your boyfriend narrowing his eyes to the direction of the box with peaked curiosity.

“Ah, what do we have here?” Satori teases, pulling off a smirk, eyes still on the box as he receives it. He gave it a little shake, that made you giggle as he playfully tried to guess what was inside. Although you could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment with each second passing. You look away in embarrassment as you watch him. He looks at you with piqued interest, wondering what has gotten you a bit tad embarrassed, if the pink in your cheeks were even a telltale sign.

You anxiously mumbled, “W-Well, I mean, my boyfriend probably makes the best chocolate in the world, so it k-kinda sucks that the only Valentines’ gift I can give you is a box of chocolates that I have made—”, you got cut off as you see and hear your boyfriend already popping one of the chocolates in his mouth, much to your chagrin. To your surprise, he kept popping more and more of the chocolates, savoring each delight.

“Waif, lemme geth sum hot milk.” he says, with his mouth full of your handmade chocolates as he scrambles back to the kitchen, heating up some milk. As you wait for him, you notice a gramophone on the countertop with a vinyl record already in place, with Edith Piaf written on on the center portion in black marker, which you found cute as you imagined Satori listening to Edith Piaf while doing his daily chocolate-making routine. You try to play the music and much to your delight, your head gently swayed to the song, and eventually your body. Immediately after the song has started, your body has already succumbed to the rhythm of the music that you didn’t notice Satori returning with two mugs of hot milk. He grins, enjoying the view of you dancing to French music as he places the mugs down on the counter. He slowly sways as he walks up to you, his hands snaking around your waist from your back as your bodies swing leisurely to the rhythm, much to your surprise yet you quickly relax as you lean back on him, holding his hands around your waist.

Never in your wildest dreams have you imagined that the Satori Tendou, your boyfriend, the oddball, would be dancing with you like this, alone in his chocolate shop under the moonlight on Valentines’ Day in the City of Love. It was too much for your heart to handle, and probably for his heart, too.

You dance for a couple more minutes until the song slowly fades. He then relishes the way he holds you, albeit the music has already finished. You both savor each other’s presence a few more, before Satori then gets the mugs of hot milk, not wanting to waste the good heat on a cold Parisian night. You gladly accept the milk with one hand, as you grasp his jacket with the other, not wanting to feel even the slightest cold breeze. Your boyfriend then leads you to a seat on the counter, sitting next to you as he prepares his mug and your box of chocolates, now with only a few pieces.

“I never thought you would actually go here in Paris”, he starts, as he pops another one of your chocolate in his mouth, followed by gulping down his warm milk.

“I never thought I would actually go here, but I’m grateful that I did, because this is the best Valentines’ Day I’ve ever had!”, you beam as you hold your mug with both hands, relishing the warmth as you drink down your milk.

Tendou then takes note of your chocolates, “You know, I was thinking of adding your chocolates to the menu, and credit you also. Probably name it Le Chocolat Y/N Au Lait Special or something!” You smiled and held a hand on your chest, feeling how warm it suddenly felt.

“Satori, I’d love to.”, you replied, to which his smile grew bright that could burst your heart to how cute he is.

Your beloved continues to chew and drink, looking around when he notices the fresh red rose from earlier sitting atop of your luggage. You follow his line of sight, immediately seeing the lone rose. You finish drinking your milk before you tell him enthusiastically, “Ah! That was given by the taxi driver that drove me earlier. Said that we somehow reminded him of him and his wife on Valentine's Day in the City of Love in this same shop, so he gave me one.”, imitating the way your driver said City of Love. Much to your shock, Satori sardonically laughs, saying it was a tad bit too French, at least for his taste.

While finishing the last remnants of your warm milk, he then goes to the nearby gramophone and plays another Edith Piaf classic. You glance at him with curiosity as he looks at you smugly, stretching out his hand as he invites you to another  dance.

“So, where were we?”

back to valentines masterlist

#tina.writes #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #tendō satori #tendou x reader #valentines #haikyuu valentines #haikyuu fics #haikyuu imagines #14 days of valentine