#and it took me to a weird page and told me to swipe to see more???

[causeimanartist]

What the hell is Tumblr TV and how do I turn it off

#I clicked on an image to zoom in on the pretty art #and it took me to a weird page and told me to swipe to see more??? #Tumblr what the fuck #who asked for this #because I sure didn't #stop trying to be tiktok

[subwaysurf45]

Winter Makes Ice (Ep.3)

Summary:  you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title.

Words: 2799

Episode: Three

Warning: not much, flashbacks, talks of violence

Masterlist! Winter Makes Ice Episode: Two

Time: 1:00pm 

Date: October 2nd 2024

It didn’t take long for everyone to board the helicopter and for it to take off, no one was lounging around this morning so they assembled quickly. Bucky sat by himself on the heli, the file was still open in his hands with the page turned to Dr. Wright. Bucky looked over the information that was given; he double and triple checked. There was a car waiting for them when they were going to arrive, Bucky would get dropped off and then Steve, Nat, and Wanda would drive around Halifax but would keep watch for a distress signal. Bucky made it clear it would only be him talking to the doctor, he was practicing his script in his head. 

“Five minutes ‘till landing,” the pilot spoke into his headset, the sound went to their ears sounding like a 1940s radio show. 

“Copy,” everyone replied without unison. 

The plane got lower and lower until it touched the ground; it was a private tarmac for primarily military forces and other important people; SHIELD was always allowed to use it. Everyone got off the plane after the propellers began to slow down, Bucky had jumped off once while they were still at top speed and got flung forward but the air. The all black car stood a ways in front of them, they all took their bags and headed over. 

“What a ride…” Steve muttered as he ran his hand against the perfect hood, this car was brand new and probably had never been in the sun before. It wasn’t a low sport car but rather an everyday car that was bullet proof and decked out with an AI on the inside, no one would take a second glance at it but the four of them marveled at how this car could fit in amongst others. The black rims matched the black tires and the black paint, this was Bucky’s dream car. 

They all got in and the ride began, Steve drove while Wanda sat in the back with Bucky, Nat was in the passenger seat playing her music. Every so often Wanda would look over to Bucky, he could see her out of the corner of his eye, she’d give a sympathetic glance and maybe open her mouth as if she was about to say something but chose against it. Bucky had Dr. Wright’s address on the file sheet; he was giving directions to Steve as they drove through the colourful houses. 

They had never seen houses like this, around four to five houses lined up next to each other, each of them were painted a different colour but they looked the same. Flowers grew in little holders under the two window sills at the front of the house, tulips were the most popular, vines would grow on the side where the sun didn’t shine too much and pain would chip around the bottom of the houses. Some houses still had Halloween decorations up, red leaves scattered on the ground and blew everywhere. There was a brown hue to the world around them, pumpkins were scattered on some door steps while other people still had Christmas lights up from last year. 

Bucky tapped Steve’s head rest and the car slowed to a stop, they looked out to their left to see a house that looked like it belonged to the community. It wasn’t modern and square with sleek grey tiles on the outside, it was old and run down. A ghost hung from the single garage light, one pumpkin was sitting on the doorstep. This house didn’t look like one of a nazi group member, nevermind just a person with their doctorate.

Tons of leaves crunched under Bucky’s combat boots, the road was littered with them, it made it seem like it was a red and yellow road. He looked both ways as he crossed even though no cars were on the road except for the military grade undercover car, Bucky looked over his shoulder to see Wanda waving. They were going to head to a farmers market in this town to pass the time, and Bucky would walk over there when he was done. He gave a thumbs up and the car drove away and down the street, he didn’t watch to see it disappear, Bucky only had one thing on his mind and it wasn’t some apple pies Wanda was looking for. 

The driveway looked new as well as the cobblestone walkway, one car was in the driveway and it looked to match the house, no crazy sports car. There was a screen door before an actual green wooden door, Bucky pulled back the screen and didn’t bother with the doorbell, he banged on the door. When he pulled his fist away there was a flake of green paint on his middle finger’s knuckle, a quick swipe and it was gone. Bucky stood back because he saw that in the movies, his back turned to the door as he looked out to the town. It was a lovely day, most people were probably at this farmer’s market, Bucky had never been to one even though you had offered to take him. 

His head whipped back at the door opening, the same man, but only older, opened the door. He looked tired and worn out, this was probably his last Halloween. The cane he was holding was shaking in his grip, the other hand gripped the side of the door extremely tight. You could see the white through the speckled skin. 

“What can I help you with, son?” the old man spoke with a smile, he licked his gums. A Canadian accent seemed almost cartoon-ish. 

Bucky froze as he looked at this man, the sight of him brought him back to his nightmares and everything he’d been through. The name ‘son’ rolled off this man’s tongue and down Bucky’s spine and sent a shiver running all through him, it was obvious this man didn’t know who Bucky was. Bucky almost felt bad that he was bothering him, it was obvious he wasn’t a walker and standing seemed to be his exercise for the day, but at the same time Bucky couldn’t help but think about all the ways he could rip this doctor apart. 

“Son?” the name came again. 

Bucky looked up with a shake of his head, “hello, are you Dr. Wright?” he asked quietly. 

“Yes it is, what do you need?” he didn’t seem freaked out that Bucky knew his name, it was a small town. 

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes,” Bucky started but the man didn’t seem to figure it out, “I am the Winter Soldier- used to be actually…” Bucky added. 

“Are you here to kill me?” the man’s voice shook, “because if you really are him then you have every right to do so,” he stepped back and opened the door for Bucky to walk in. 

“I’m here to talk, you’re not going to die.” Bucky walked in and kicked off his combat boots, he’d heard it’s a thing in Canada to take your shoes off in the house. He also heard there was bagged milk which didn’t make any sense to him, but he wasn’t about to argue. 

“That’s always good to hear, eh?” the accent slipped out again, it was weird for Bucky to see this man who haunted him just laughing. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” Dr. Wright asked as he made his way into the kitchen. 

His house was small, not many walls as one room just faded into another. Knick-knacks littered shelves and tables, everything brought a homey feel to it all, the house was very lived in. “No thanks,” Bucky waved up a hand to signal no. 

The doctor came and sat across from him, Bucky was sitting on a chair while Dr. Wright took the sofa, they both were wrapped in plastic. It made a squeaky sound when either of them moved but it didn’t seem to bother the doctor at all, Bucky one final time before swearing he wasn’t going to move again and hear that annoying sound. Both of Bucky’s hands were clasped in front of him, he felt too large and bulky for this petite chair, his fingers fiddled with each other. He’d pick and poke at the massive gloves he wore, his long sleeve was covering everything he needed. 

“So, Dr. Wright-”

“Jacob, son,” he corrected, “though I am a doctor,” Jacob hesitated, “I go by Jacob.”

“Is that your real first name?” Bucky asked, he was met with a smile and nod, “then call me Bucky, please.” Bucky smiled back, there was a growing tension between the both of them but they chose to ignore it. 

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.” Jacob seemed to relax at the name, he was scared of Bucky and Bucky could tell. This man had seen Bucky train for years on end, and Jacob knew what the Winter Soldier was capable of. “What do you need to talk to me about?” his cane rested beside him, his hand found its way there and just held it. 

“I need to talk to you about Hydra, any information you have on the Iceland base- or any base in Halifax, Iceland, Greenland, and there’s one more…” Bucky brought a gloved hand to his stubbled chin, the leather making a rough noise when it brushed against the facial hair. “Oh! It was Newfoundland, anything you knew about those four places.” 

Jacob thought for a moment, he didn’t have stubble to rub. Though he was old it was obvious he still thought that it was the old days, hair slicked back and a very fresh shave, facial hair wasn’t allowed unless you had grown it out in private. Bucky had always remembered Howard Stark’s mustache; he couldn’t picture him without it. 

“I mean, I was just a scientist, I ran labs and tested things on animals. I didn’t come up with the world ending plans, I was never told the reason for what I was doing, I was just told to do it.” Jacob sounded worried, “when I used to work for Hydra I was worried for my life everyday, they were so paranoid all the time that someone could be a rat. If you said ‘hail Hydra’ a little too quietly then you’d have a bullet between your eyes, I just kept my head down and did what I was told.” Jacob’s hand got increasingly tighter on the handle of his cane. 

“Was there something new they were working on?” Bucky asked, and he pulled out a little flip book to keep track. 

“I quit a total of ten years ago, when I was seventy-one, the only thing they were thinking of was keeping you in their grasp, there was no other plan.” Jacob shrugged, “Hydra couldn’t see a life source without you, they never intended on losing you the way they did.” 

“So you have no idea what they could possibly be working on, at all?” the hope Bucky had was falling, this was the only lead they knew and if all he could say was there was never a plan B, you were screwed.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I really want to help, but I just don’t know.” Jacob stood and walked back to the kitchen. He filled a glass of water and grabbed three pills from a container before heading back over to his seat. 

“Out of the four places I mentioned, Iceland, Greenland, Halifax, and Newfoundland,” Bucky paused and watched Jacob mutter them to himself and then take the pills, “which one is the strongest?”

Jacob swallowed his pills with water, “Iceland.” without any hesitation, no second guess, nothing giving away he was lying for didn’t know. “Iceland was hell for me, it has the best of the best for agents, scientists, and…” he glanced out the window, “cells and tourture.” 

Bucky shot up right away, he headed to the door. Jacob followed him, glass still in his hand. When Bucky was about to leave Jacob placed a hand on his shoulder. When Bucky turned back around the hand traveled along the center of his chest, “I'm not wired, Jacob.” Bucky eased. 

“Some things just come second nature, son.” Jacob kept his head down, “y’know, I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was making my old man proud, but I never stopped to realize what I was doing was actually wrong.” Jacob looked up with glossy eyes, “I actually wanted to find you at some point because I know I was the one who woke you up last, I remember clearly the way you looked, right then, I knew I needed to leave that place.” Jacob shuffled over and stood completely square to Bucky, Bucky just looked down at Jacob with a face of horror. The man Bucky saw every night was crying and apologizing to him, he didn’t know anyone who worked with Hydra had a heart. “I’m sorry for everything I did to you,” Jacob reached in his back pocket, he had placed the glass of water on a side table. “Here, take some money-”

“No, none of that, Jacob, really,” Bucky held his hands out, “you’re forgiven, don’t worry about all that, I just need to find someone.” Bucky reached for the door. 

“What do you mean?” Jacob fished in his wallet. 

“Hydra stole my girlfriend, I think she's in Iceland.” Bucky’s eyebrows knitted together at Jacob who was given him a coin. 

“I think you’re right,” Jacob dropped the coin in Bucky’s palm before closing the door, the screen door creaked as it shut quickly with the wind. 

Time: 2:33pm

Date: October 2nd 2024

Steve, Nat, and Wanda were walking around on the closed road, stands of every fruit and pastry lined the streets. Wanda was on top of the moon, she had a tote bag with some apple turnovers in them, that was really all she wanted. Nat had actually bought something too, Steve was genuinely surprised when Nat bought some earrings from a vendor, they were very small and dainty moons that would go in her ear lobes. Steve didn’t buy anything but just liked walking around, there was a lot to see but in a good way, no screens or jumbotrons, just people being people. 

As Bucky made eye contact with Steve, Steve’s phone rang. Nat and Wanda rushed up to Bucky and were asking how it went, but the unknown caller was what Steve was focusing on. 

“Steve Rogers,” Steve lowered his voice. 

“Captain Rogers,” an all too familiar voice hit his ear. 

“King T’Challa?” Steve turned his back to the group. 

“We have three Hydra agents in custody, they tried to take out my sister,” his accent flowed and bounced as he talked.

“Keep them in the cells, we’re on our way.” 

“Will there be more of them?” T’Challa asked before he could hang up. 

“I don’t know, but hold them and don’t kill them, they might be our only hope.” Steve said his goodbyes and hung up. 

When he turned back to Bucky and the rest of them, they seemed scared, Bucky had overheard Steve’s call, super hearing, and was looking at him weird. 

“What was that?” Bucky asked. 

“King T’Challa, says there was an attempted hit on Shuri, doesn’t know where they came from but they want her.” Steve shoved his phone in his back pocket, “what did you find?” 

Bucky just held up a silver coin, “we’re going to Iceland.” 

“We need to go to Wakanda,” Steve stepped forward. 

“Not all four of us,” Nat pulled everyone aside from the farmer’s market, “I’ll go with Steve to Wakadna, you go with Wanda to Iceland. We’ll be talking and before you ambush the Hydra base in Iceland we’ll confirm y/n is in there, deal?” She looked to the other three. 

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

Winter Makes Ice tag list: @small-death-and-codeine​ @commonintrest​ @buckyys-doll​  @lil-baby-nor

let me know if you want a tag!

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky angst #bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky barnes series #bucky #bucky x yn #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #winter #winter soldier #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier angst #winter soldier series #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan angst

[giogiohcs]

Can I request a Victoria Secret or underwear model MC? Like how will the characters react if they accidentally read a magazine with MC as the cover? I don't know if this request should add NSFW but do as you like ❤️. Thank you!

A/N: Sorry for this taking so long! Also you didn’t put what fandom or characters you wanted so I just did the brothers from Obey Me!

Lucifer

-When Mammon was bombarding him and trying to convince him to look at his newest modeling shoot, he was annoyed.

-But since Mammon wouldn’t stop until he looked he finally took the magazine from his younger brother’s hand and flipped through it.

-Then he froze, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. Maybe he denied his true feelings for you for so long that he was now seeing you everywhere? But when Mammon’s jaw dropped comically at the photos, he knew that they were real. The vein on his forehead came out prominently and he yelled for Mammon to leave immediately.

-In the pictures you were barely clothed in nothing but your underwear while staring at the camera like you were tempting him. He darkly chuckled thinking about what to do about this... situation..

-In your normal routine, you went to Lucifer’s office to see him holding the magazine and the same lingerie that you modeled in the shoot.

-You were sore all over when he was done with you.

-How he feels about it is a mix of pride and betrayal and a tad bit jealousy.

-Pride because of course you’re one of the most beautiful creatures in all the realms and jealousy because you’re *his* and betrayal because you didn’t tell him before doing the shoot.

-Once sexy time is over, you two talk it out and reach an understanding with each other. He doesn’t mind what your job is as long as you’re happy <3.

Mammon

-During a modeling gig that he was doing, he was trying to find the bathroom and went into the wrong room, he was immediately gonna leave until he heard your voice.

-His head snapped to you and immediately flushed red seeing you in sexy lingerie. Then his eyes snapped to the cameras and flushed even redder in anger.

-Like an action hero sacrificing himself , he immediately dove in front of the camera to protect your modesty✨ which made for some hilarious pictures.

-He dragged you home and when the door closed, he started to fuss about how he should be the only one seeing you like that.

-You explained that it’s your job and it’s hypocritical that he was complaining about it as he was a model too.

-In frustration, he asked how much you were being paid to take your clothes off, real cute.

-When you answered, you saw him light up and you could see the dollar signs in his eyes.

-Suddenly you both are underwear models...

Leviathan

-BIG NO

-HE should be the only one seeing you like that!

-When he accidentally learns about you already being an underwear model and you didn’t tell him, he feels very betrayed.

-How could his best friend, his Henry, have a secret like that and NOT tell him.

-The worst part, millions of people saw you like that MONTHS before Levi did.

-His envy mixed with his jealousy is a dangerous combination.

-You had to calm him down from releasing his sea monsters on everyone.

-But after you did, he shut you out of his room and his life.

-He didn’t come out for weeks until you and his brothers convinced him for the newest gaming console.

-After, you began talking again, you weren’t together anymore but you also weren’t strangers like you were before.

-It only takes awhile of talking before he starts inviting you to his room again for anime marathons and cuddles.

Satan

-Oh? Now this is interesting...

-When he flipped through a magazine and saw you, he smiled, you looked divine, more beautiful than any angel. But an angel would never wear that, especially in front of a camera~

-He smirked, looks like his little kitten has some secrets they kept from him.

-He begins to scheme for revenge for not telling him sooner.

-You come to his room and he corners you and asks why you didn’t tell him.

-You say that it simply slipped your mind and you didn’t mean to not tell him, you swear it!

-He smiles at you with the fakest smile you’ve ever seen.

-He tells you that there’s a way to make up for your betrayal, he hands you a cat themed lingerie set with a pair of fuzzy hand cuffs.

-You were very sore afterwards...

Asmodeus

-Flipping through all of his magazines for the latest fashion and makeup trends, he accidentally came upon you, laying on a velvet bed with barely anything covering you as you seductively looked at the camera.

-Asmo felt his heart beat rise to his ears and a tune whistle through his lips, he never expected his sweet bunny to be a fox in disguise~

-He shook those thoughts away when he remembered the fact that you didn’t tell him!!

-MC YOU KNOW I LOVE BEING ON CAMERA! WE COULD’VE DONE IT TOGETHER!!

-What is the “it” referring to? He wasn’t even sure himself.

-But the dramatic betrayal left him feeling blue... Did you not trust him enough? Did you not feel as serious as he was in your guys relationship that you didn’t feel the need to tell him?

-He comes to you and asks why you didn’t tell him earlier.

-When you explained that it merely slipped your mind and you always had such fun with him that you didn’t even think about work. He sadly smiles. He pretends to immediately forget about everything and goes back to the normal routine but he feels anything but normal.

-Was he just fun to you? If you felt that way, he wouldn’t blame you. Many demons and humans used him to have a good time. Used and to be discarded... that’s his life.

-He amount of trust he had in you and your relationship dwindles.

-It isn’t until you sit down with him and have an open and honest discussion about your guy’s relationship that things begin bounce back.

-Yes, sometimes he can be a *little* dramatic...

Beelzebub

-Why was there a lingerie ad in a food magazine? Was his first question.

-Why were you in the lingerie ad? Was his second question.

-He suddenly didn’t feel hungry for food, it was weird, was he upset? Turned on? He didn’t know.

-He looked at the ad long and hard before calling you.

-When you picked up the phone there was a long silence before he asked if he could come to your room.

-It was strange? You almost laughed at how weird he was being.

-But when he came to your room, you knew something was up, he simply handed you the magazine and let you explain.

-You explained that it just never came up and it slipped your mind, he was happy, of course you’d tell him earlier if you could. You trust him as much as he trusts you.

-He then invites you to an all you can eat buffet for dinner, he finally starts feeling normal and hungry again.

-He trusts and loves you❤️

Belphegor

-Belphie like any other day was sleeping in a place he shouldn’t, one of the many couches of the House of Lamentation, until he kept feeling something uncomfortable underneath him.

-He tried to ignore the thing but even he, the avatar of sloth, couldn’t ignore it.

-He reached under the cushions and found a magazine stuffed in between them.

-He was gonna throw it across the room until a page flipped to a picture of you, in sexy lingerie.

-His chest felt tight and his head felt like it was steaming hot.

-He needed to leave.

-Belphie hadn’t come down for dinner, lunch or breakfast and wasn’t answering your texts and calls, it worried you.

-You went to the twin’s room and only saw Beel, you went up to the attic and saw a snoozing lump of blankets on the bed. You smiled.

-You went up to cuddle your demon but ended up being kicked off the bed immediately and Belphie growling at you from under the covers.

-You were confused and questioned him, his tail came from under the covers and swiped the magazine at your face.

-Oh...

-You explained that it’s just a job and you would’ve told him earlier but it just never came up. You apologized to him and gave him the cutest sorry face you could muster.

-Belphie hid under the covers again but after a few seconds invited you under too.

-You cuddled and he apologized for kicking you off the bed <3

#my post #tsas speaks #obey me #obey me! #obey me hc #obey me! hc #obey me! headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me satan #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub

[celestialrry]

bunny

6.3k

summary: Harry's shy and you need a tutor.

warnings: like none, cursing?, severe fluff

You rushed into class, and scrambled over to sit in your chair, huffing as the clock struck 9:00 a.m. the moment you touched the seat. Why you signed up for a morning class you knew you would never want to wake up for is beyond you. Why the class you were taking was about English literature, a genre you had only read less than 3 books in was also beyond you. Being undecided in your major didn’t have many perks, you had come to find.

“Alright class, first things first, you’ll be having a test in this class next week about what we studied this past month.”

As your professor droned on, your heartbeat started to pick up. A month into your second year of university and you already had a test? This was absolute torture. You were psyching yourself out at this point, almost positive you would fail, until you zoned back into class to hear a deep voice speaking.

The boy with the curls almost reaching his shoulders in the back of the class, Harry, you thought. He was terrifying and intimidating, but he raised his hand almost every other question and got it right. Always. He was the answer to all of your problems. The one who always wore those tattered brown Chelsea boots and long coats. You had even seen a peek of tattoos on his hand once.

The rest of class was spent thinking of ways to ask him to tutor you. So far, you would suggest to pay him for his time, do it only when he’s available (you would switch your schedule around for him, you were already going to ask a lot of him), and just try to be really nice. You always tried not to judge on looks, but Harry seemed quite scary, and you were afraid he’d turn you down immediately.

Soon class was dismissed and you grabbed your trusty bag (it had survived multiple sleepovers at Niall’s and that boy could destroy anything by just touching it) and slung it over your shoulder, looking to see Harry walking out of the classroom. You hurried over to him out of the doors and caught up to him. “Hi, um, Harry?” You asked, and he stopped in his tracks.

He looked back at you and his eyes widened. He had to look back down for a moment so you couldn’t see him flush out of surprise. He looked back up at you and smiled softly. “Hello.” Harry mumbled, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. No one really ever spoke to Harry all that much. People just never approached him and he had no idea why (his friends had tried to clue him in that he did seem a bit intimidating with his brows furrowed almost all the time, his body littered with tattoos, and the fact that he’s quite a buff guy, but you couldn’t really tell from his oversized sweaters that he seems to wear every single day, but that’s besides the point) and it confused him a bit. It also made him a bit shy around anyone he didn’t already know, because he didn't want to come off too strong at first and scare anyone away.

You smiled at him and introduced yourself before you continued to ask him what you had been dreading out of pure nerves. “Um, I know this is weird, but we’re in the same English lit class and I notice you know like, all the answers to what Mr. Reeves asks, n’I just really wanna pass this test so I was maybe wondering if you could tutor me or something? I would pay you of course-”

“You don’t-you don’t have to pay me.” He interrupted you from rambling on for too long because you tended to do that a lot, and Harry had no idea but he had just saved himself about ten minutes of time. If you were his chance at a new friend, he wouldn’t want it to start off on money, because helping a friend wouldn't be a job. “Oh!” Your mouth formed an “o” shape and your eyebrows raised at him. “Are you sure? I mean that's fucking awesome if you really don’t want money, but I would just feel so bad taking up your time without giving you anything in return.”

You prayed that he would say that you really didn’t need to pay him anything. If he meant it, it means this boy was a godsend and you would be happy spending time with this bloke if he is really that sweet all the time. You wouldn’t expect it just because he rarely ever speaks to other people. The most words you had ever heard him speak was when he was answering a question from Mr. Reeves-

“S’fine, really. If I tutor you, um, it's basically like studying m’self so...” He trailed off scratching the back of his neck, and bringing you back to Earth. You broke out into a grin and bounced a bit on your toes, because he was going to help you pass the final and you didn’t have to pay him. “Perfect! Wow, Harry, you’re an angel. Thank you so much,” You complimented him as you grabbed your phone from your back pocket and as your eyes darted away from his face for a few moments, he attempted to bite back his smile, because you were talking to him, and calling him an angel.

You pulled your pink-case covered cell and unlocked it, handing it to Harry and saying, “Here, put your contact in so I can text you about meeting up, s’that cool?” To which he nodded and took your phone gently and began typing his name and number in, and biting back his tongue when he was about to tell you he had the same phone case as you, because you probably wouldn’t care (you actually would care a very great deal, but Harry had been so used to being ignored he figured he wouldn’t muck up his one chance at a new friend). he handed your phone back to you and you just shoved it back in your pocket, the smile never leaving your face.

“Thanks again Harry, it really means a lot. I’ll text you later, yeah?” You said, slowly beginning to walk to your next class. He just offered you a small smile before continuing the way he was before you had asked him to tutor you. Why he didn’t want money was still itching at the back of your brain, mostly because when you told your best friend, Niall, about it later that night he had said “What kinda college student turns down money?” before going off into a rant about how he wished he actually knew what he was learning so he could tutor someone and get some extra cash. You reminded him he already had a job, but it seemed tutoring was “so much easier than dealing with kids whose parents didn’t give a rats-ass if they yell in the restaurant.”

｡:°ஐ

You and Harry had arranged to meet on Wednesday, because you only had one morning class as did he, and would meet in the library at 12 p.m. You don’t think you had ever been so anxious walking into a library before, but here you were, opening the double doors and swiping your student I.D. (which had a horrid picture on it, they really never tell you when they take the photo) before your eyes scanned the front part of the library you could see. It was safe to say you weren’t in the library very often, if seeing your frazzled face as you zig-zagged through the rows of bookshelves was enough to go by.

You made your way to the back, where you assumed the tables for studying and reading would be, and as you turned the corner of one of the oddly tall bookshelves, you thanked your instincts for the first time, and scanned the area until you found a certain flop of messy brown curls hunched over at a table.

“Hi Harry,” You chittered, flopping down in the seat across from him and immediately pulling out your notes and the book you had been reading for class, Pride and Prejudice. “How are you?”

For the first time, you noticed he wore glasses, when he looked up at you and pushed the clear tan frames up the bridge of his nose, a bit startled by your arrival. “M’good, you?” He asked, no emotion or tone behind his voice really. It sounded like he just wanted you to stop talking almost, but you settled on the fact that it was your nerves telling you he hated you.

“’Bout as good as I can be with teachers up my ass all week.” You said, and a small smile struck his face. You wondered what it would be like to make him laugh. Shaking your head from your thoughts, you cleared your throat and looked at your notes before back up at him. “Alright, so m’a bit confused on why Charlotte marries Collins? I mean, ignoring the fact that they’re all related, I’ve re-read it so many times but the old English they use is so confusing.”

After your question, Harry delves into the answer, not going on an extraordinarily long tangent, but a decently long one, explaining the relationship between them, and why they married when he wanted Elizabeth first, and so on. What was even better was that he explained it all so easily you understood it all (and his voice was sweeter than honey), you just kept wanting to ask more questions, so you did.

Harry was talkative when you kept asking him questions, and it seemed like he was enjoying himself, but whenever the conversation swerved into personal life, Harry shut off and became more quiet. It wasn’t like you were asking him about his family drama, the conversation had smoothly sailed into something about high school.

“I wish I read this book in high school when they gave us the chance.” You sighed, flipping through the pages to where you had put a sticky note to write down your confusion. You truly regretted not being one of those reading types, but you preferred to hear things more (like Harry’s voice), and listening to music became your ‘hobby’ instead.

“Yeah, reading it earlier makes it pretty easy now.” He shrugged, going through his own notes. “I just wasn’t much of a reader, did you read a lot in high school?” It's an innocent enough question, and after spending about 2 hours with Harry, you already knew you would want to get to know him more, but it seemed he didn’t feel the same. “A bit.” He said, tensing up. While you were mildly confused by his body language, Harry just didn’t want to talk about highschool. He read a lot, and was so in his own world he found it hard to really have many friends. He had a few loyal ones, but books would always be there, as cheesy as that was. High school wasn’t fun for anyone, he was sure of it.

“You seem like you’d read a lot, you just give off that vibe, y’know?” You said, looking at him. He lifted his gaze from his notes and you truly could not tell what he was thinking. He gave a small “hmph” in response to your question that wasn’t really a question and looked back down at his notes, gathering them all quite fast. “I think we’re good for the day, just text me if you want anymore help.” He mumbled, slinging his bag over his shoulder and rushing out of the library. You sat there with your mouth slightly open in shock at the way he left so abruptly. After a few moments you packed up your own things and practically ran after him, bursting through the double doors and trying to find him, to-you actually didn’t know what to do. You didn’t even know what happened. That’s why you found yourself on your couch with Niall as he ate all your snack food, deep in a long-winded advice session from him.

“He just ran out Niall, I don’t even know what happened, like did I say something?” You asked, picking your nails in distress, your eyes following the chip that disappeared in his mouth seconds later. “What’s this bloke’s name, again?” He asked, after chewing (Niall could be vulgar, but he wasn’t an animal). “Um, Harry. Longish brown curls, pretty green eyes, y’know? I-I don’t even know his last name.”

The blonde’s icy blue eyes widened in recognition after a moment of thinking, and he slapped your bicep gently. “Harry Styles! I’ve heard o’him. Apparently he has like two friends and never speaks, s’not hard to believe you have a thing for him, bug.” Your brow raised incredulously, and you were quick to defend yourself, and Harry. “I do not have a thing for him, and just because he doesn’t have many friends doesn’t mean he’s a-wait what do you mean it's not hard to believe?”

Niall rolled his eyes and sat up a bit more, turning to actually face you. “You like the quiet types, s’why we aren’t dating, obviously, n’I never said he was a dud, love, just tellin’ you what I heard.” You just nodded, deciding to not worry about it so much. “There’s many reasons we aren’t dating Ni.” You gave him a compassionate smile and pat his knee. The two of you then burst out into laughter and your worries about Harry faded away.

Until the next morning that is.

You had been going over the study guide Mr. Reeves had emailed everyone that morning and realized you weren’t sure about quite a few of the things you were supposed to know. Sighing, you opened your phone and clicked on Harry’s contact typing out a text.

Hey Harry! Wondering if you could meet up sometime again this weekend just to go over the study guide?

You hit send and prayed that he wouldn’t just ignore it, especially after running out last time. After looking back at the email, you heard your notification bell go off just a few minutes later.

I can do Friday at 8pm, and Sunday around 3.

A smile of relief graced your face at his quick response, no matter how short his texts were, he was still willing to help you, and you were extremely grateful. After texting him back and agreeing to meet back at the library, you went back to working on another assignment, happy that you were able to get more studying in, not about the fact that you got to see the quiet and unusually attractive Harry Styles again. That was not the reason.

｡:°ஐ

Eventually it was Friday night. Your friday nights usually consisted of Niall dragging you somewhere you did not want to be, like a frat party (he always made sure you got home safe though), or you sitting at home, watching a movie and binging on cookies that you had baked just 30 minutes prior. Tonight was different however, and you were attempting to open the doors of the library, because it was locked, but you were positive the library wasn’t closed.

A soft voice said your name, and you turned around to see Harry standing a few feet behind you, his hands in his pockets and his bag on his shoulder. “Harry,” you exhaled in relief. “I was about to text you, but it’s locked and I know for a fact it shouldn’t be closed because the hours say 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. every weekday.” You stated matter of factly, pointing to the hours painted on the door. He walked a bit closer to the door and adjusted his glasses a bit, pursing his pink lips as he read the hours. “You’re right.” he said simply, his sage eyes darting to the handle. You wordlessly stepped back and he went to the handle, pulling the door a bit, and pushing it. It moved a bit for him, but it was obvious it was locked.

Your mind raced for solutions, the only ones you were able to find was going to your flat, or wherever he lived, and you were almost positive he wouldn't want you in his house. You heard a little sigh leave his lips as he let go of the handle, and stuck his hands back in his pockets, rolling on the balls of his feet adorned with black boots today. “We could go to my place? If you’re comfortable with that of course, I won’t force you, but it’s like the only place I can think of and my roommate won’t be home tonight to distract us, something about staying the weekend at her boyfriends, but-”

“Sure.”

Your eyes fell back onto his face at his words and you gave a small smile, happy that he had agreed. “Alright, c’mon then.” You said, walking towards the direction of your flat. Only a few moments after you began taking steps he stopped you with his voice. “Wait, you walked here?” He asked, his face twisted up with something you couldn’t tell. “Yeah, m’only fifteen minutes away.” You shrugged. “It’s pitch black-um, come with me, I drove here and you can just direct me to yours.”

You just agreed and followed him to his car, which was an awfully nice black one, you weren’t sure of the brand, but as you got in, you could tell he took really good care of it (not that that was attractive to you or anything). Your words during the drive consisted of you telling him the four turns to take before directing him the best place to park in your lot. You ignored his gaze on you as you led him up the two flights of stairs to your hall, because “The elevator has been down for ages, and I’ve sent about four letters to the landlord, but all I’ve gotten in return is just unnecessary exercise for two months.”

He chuckled a bit at that and you swore your heart grew two sizes as you led him down the hall to your door. You unlocked it, and let him in, quickly walking in front to scan and make sure it wasn’t messy. You were never one to leave the house while it was dirty, but Niall had come over earlier to convince you to come to a party, and you were scared you hadn’t picked up his mess. He truly was like your child in a sense. Taking a sigh of relief at your clean flat, you turned around to see Harry closing your door and you brushed against him to lock it, you never kept your door unlocked at night.

You led him to the living room and dropped your bag on the floor next to the couch, and he did the same, pulling out your books and notes, as well as your laptop. Harry followed your actions and you could tell he was a bit uncomfortable in your flat, or at least that’s what it seemed like. “Do y’want some water or anything? I’m not sure what other drinks I have because I’m pretty sure Niall drank everything in here, and ate it probably as well.”

He looked up at your words and hesitated, bringing his bottom lip between his fingers. “Erm, I’ll have a water, please.” Now was not the time to ask about Niall or who he was to you, he told himself, because it didn’t matter. You nodded and stood up, hurrying over to your kitchen and grabbing two glasses of water for the both of you before handing one to Harry and sitting down on the couch again.

It was a bit weird at first, but soon enough the two of you slid into an easy conversation about the study guide, it was mostly you asking and Harry answering, but occasionally he would ask you something (that you were sure he already knew), and you would answer. It was a good back and forth, and you found yourself thinking about how it would be nice to talk to Harry like this about himself. You wanted to know everything, his favorite color down to the weird little quirks he has (you’ve already picked up on one, like when he itches the bottom of his nose with a curled index finger and slides it to the button of his nose before scrunching it).

“We’ve been studying for about two hours,” You noticed, looking at the time on your computer screen reading 10:03 PM. “I’ve just about filled my brain with enough information about fictional characters for today.”

You looked over at Harry to see him grinning a bit at your joke, and for the first time you noticed he had dimples. You were positive there was nothing wrong with him, other than the fact that he didn’t seem to want to be your friend (it wasn’t his fault, you could be a bit too much for people sometimes). “Okay, I should probably get back home to Luna anyways.” He said, his offhand comment filling your brain. Luna? You prayed you haven’t been taking his time away from a girlfriend, and before your brain could catch up your mouth was already moving. “Oh, who’s Luna?”

Harry looked at you like he forgot he mentioned her and his eyes widened a bit. “Oh, um, she’s m’kitten.” A wave of relief rushed over you, as well as another reason to want to get to know him more. A man so intimidating people didn’t approach him, had a kitten? Harry was flushing out of embarrassment of telling you this little fact, and looking down as he put his things in his bag to avoid eye contact with you, you did not care about his kitten, and you were indirectly telling him to leave, he didn't think he ever hated speaking more.

“That’s such a cute name!”You exclaimed. “Do you have any photos of her? It’s okay if you don’t want to show but I love cats, always wanted t’get my own.”

Nevermind.

30 minutes later, and he was sitting next to you awfully close on the couch, showing you his photo album of Luna. Some of the photos had Harry in them, one in particular, a mirror picture, where he was wearing sweats and had chosen to go without a shirt, holding Luna in one hand by his side. He swiped off of that one with lighting speed, and although you were telling yourself he obviously was embarrassed by you seeing his bare torso, which he shouldn’t be because wow, you couldn’t help your curiosity. “How many tattoos do y’have?”

He moved his head to face you, and only then did he realize how close the two of you were sitting. “Uh, I don’t know, fifty-something? I lost count a while ago.” Your eyes lit up at his words and a grin spread across your face. “Wow, that's so cool. Did it hurt a lot? I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo but I have no idea what, and where. I thought a small little butterfly on my ribs or something would be cute for a good year, but I don’t have much connection to butterflies really, and I feel like if I get something tattooed on your body for forever I would want something that really sticks with me.”

He couldn’t help it.

As you watched Harry while you were rambling on about tattoos you could see him smile. Truly smile, one where his teeth showed and everything. You tried not to get too giddy about it, but it was just so beautiful. “It started hurting less the more I got, and tattoos don’t have t’be something y’really connect with, I have a bunch jus’ because I thought they looked cool and had a decent meaning,” He said, and you were positive that’s the most he’s ever spoken to you. “I actually have a butterfly on m’tummy.”

“What other one’s do you have?” You asked, attempting to get him to talk as much as he could.

It worked, because soon the 30 minutes became an hour, and the hour became two, and he was in your flat at midnight. It seemed the two of you had no idea how much time had passed, because when you checked your phone it said it was five past midnight, and you reluctantly told Harry.

“Shit!” He muttered, and that was the first time you’ve heard him curse before. He looked at you, concern taking over his features. “M’so sorry for staying so long, I didn’t want to impose, I-”

“Harry, it’s okay, I promise. If I didn’t want you here, I would've told you to leave.” You said, and that seemed to calm him down a bit. “I’ll walk you down.”

You slipped on your coat and grabbed your keys, while Harry grabbed his tote and the two of you made your way down the stairs, this time a comfortable silence overtaking the stairwell. You reached his car and smiled at him as he unlocked it. “Thank you Harry, for everything, m’sure after Sunday I’ll be aces at analyzing characters.”

He smiled at you and fiddled with his sleeve before stepping closer and wrapping his arms around you. You were surprised to say the least, but your arms found their way around him as well and you reveled in his warmth. He stepped back after a moment and let his hands slide down your arms before bringing them back to his sides. “M’sorry, I should’ve-I just-you’re so nice n’I just-thank you.”

You couldn’t help but watch him try to stay afloat as he struggled to explain the hug. He really felt like he did though, because you were just so sweet, possibly the sweetest person he’s ever met, and you wanted to know about him, and his tattoos, and his kitten, and he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to be with anyone for a hours on end, but he’s already decided that he’d want to be trapped in a room with you for days.

“No need to thank me, get home safe okay?” You smiled at him, reaching out and squeezing his arm and holy shit he’s fit. He looked down at your hand for a moment before smiling big and nodding, parting with a “G’night, I’ll see you Sunday.” before hopping into his car and insisting you walk up first. Rolling your eyes you smirked a bit and started walking up your stairs, turning around and waving at him before he sped off. That was quite possibly the best Friday night you’ve ever had.

｡:°ஐ

Harry was reeling, in the best way possible, but still reeling. After you got together to study on Sunday (and after you both aced the test, which you had given him the largest hug and a kiss on the cheek for), the two of you had hung out almost everyday after.

You met Luna during that following week, and he was expecting her to stay in his bedroom, because Luna didn’t really like new guests all that much, but she had immediately scurried up to you and walked in figure-eights around your feet. Your giggle of excitement was the best thing Harry had ever heard, and he had to take a moment not to squeal out of adoration.

He had opened up to you about, well, a lot. Told you how people just didn’t approach him, which was why he was so off-put when you did, and that he just didn’t want to scare anyone away. You shook your head and sat closer to him on the couch, lifting your hands to pinch his cheeks and pout as you said that he was “the sweetest person” you knew and you had “no idea how anyone could be scared of such a softie.” It was safe to say his face was flushed the entire conversation.

You had also commented on his sweater collection once, and everytime you would shiver, he’d pull off his own sweater and give it to you to wear, even in the courtyard when the weather was reaching 30 degrees. You had refused due to the fact that he would be cold, and eventually he just gave you a sweater you had expressed your liking for. He had handed it to you and you frowned in confusion and said, “Did you bring that just for me?”, because he was already wearing his own, and he had nodded and once you put it on he mumbled, “Keep it.” You did.

It got to the point where the two of you had spent so much time together you introduced him to Niall, to which Niall had commented, “So this is the Harry bloke you’ve been talking about all the time. Nice to meet ya, mate. So, how did you grow your hair out so long?” You had hit his shoulder for embarrassing you, but it seemed Harry didn’t even skip a beat when he started talking about how he had decided to grow his hair out. It was a story you’d heard before, but with Harry speaking, you would listen to the same words over and over again.

When you each went home for winter break, Harry had hugged you tightly and kissed your cheek, telling you that it was only 2 weeks, and the both of you would be back before you knew it. When the two of you weren’t texting, you were calling each other, and he was right, because you had both gotten back yesterday, a day full of hugs of goodbye’s from families, and full of cheek and forehead kisses, along with hugs and cuddles from Harry. You teased him about the gift, a book you had told him was the only one you wanted to read, he mailed you, and he teased you about his gift, a sweater with  a hand-stitched (by you) small little moon where the left breast was, for Luna, and posters of his favorite artists, because he didn’t have anything on his walls.

Today was a day of “movies and cookies, it rhymes” as Harry had put it, and you had just knocked on his door, adorned with the sweater he gave you and some sweats. He opened the door almost immediately, a large smile on his face as he brought you in and gave you a large hug, to which you returned. “Missed you.” He mumbled into your shoulder. “I saw you yesterday, dimples.” You said, squeezing him before letting go and poking the indent in his cheek that just got deeper. “I told you I hate that nickname, bunny.” He smirked. “Oh, shove off.” You smiled, making your way to his living room where Luna was curled up on the couch on the right side, close enough to the end that no one could sit there, but close enough to the middle that practically half of his couch was taken.

“Don’t move her,” He said, walking up beside you. “She’s been crazy all day and she's finally relaxing, little devil.” You just shrugged and looked at the cookies he had already set out. “As long as I get these, I don’t mind where she is.”

The two of you settled next to each other on the couch as he chose an old horror movie that you begged not to watch but according to Harry, “S’not even scary, pet. Nothing is realistic, swear.” You just grumbled in defeat as he started to play it and just stuffed cookies into your mouth as you fell against the back of the couch.

Half an hour later, and your head was tucked in Harry’s chest, while your legs fell over his own. His hand was splayed across your back, rubbing up and down gently and mumbled “It’s okay”’s and “I’ve got you”’s while you peeked out to see the giant ant’s taking over. He really couldn’t believe it, you of all people were in his arms at night. He wished it could be every night, and when he heard your breathing slow down he suddenly took it back.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

You hadn’t planned on sleeping over, but just the other day were you complaining about not getting enough sleep because of your “stupid Philosophy professor”, and there was no way in hell Harry was going to wake you up. He hesitated for a moment, before turning off the T.V. because in the time he was deciding on what to do the movie had long stopped playing, and wrapped his other arm under your knees, gently picking you up and taking you to his bed.

He laid you down and tucked you under the covers, grabbing a pillow for himself before making his way to the couch for the night. He made sure to set an alarm to wake up before you did, and make you breakfast.

When you opened your eyes, the last thing you were expected to be met with was a white ceiling with a sleek silver fan nailed in. You sat up groggily, looking around the room to recognize it as Harry’s room. You had only been in here a few times, mostly to scavenge his closet, but you knew his room when you saw it. You swung your legs out of bed, and slowly made your way to the living room, where you were met with a sleeping Harry, spread out on the couch in his sweats, without a shirt. You tried not to linger your gaze on all his tattoos and abs as you walked by him to check the time on your phone. Almost 9 a.m., and by the vibrating phone next to yours, with the same case, you could tell he meant to set an alarm but forgot to turn his ringer on.

He had an alarm set for something, and he never told you what he was doing this morning, so you decided you would wake him up, just in case. You grabbed his shoulder gently, and tried not to think about how warm he was, shaking him gently and calling his name. “Harry…” You said in a sing-songy voice a few times. He pouted in his sleep and grunted a bit, before scrunching his eyes open. He practically jumped back when he saw you and his head fell back against the arm of the couch. Of course he wouldn’t wake up before you. “Morning.” You grinned. “G’morning. M’sorry if you were confused when y’woke up. I just brought y’to my bed cause you fell asleep, n’I was gonna wake up before you but obviously that didn’t work out.”

You just shook your head and smiled, trying not to think about his morning voice. There were a lot of things you had to try not to think about with Harry. “No worries, wanna go grab breakfast at the diner down the street? Heard they have killer hashbrowns.”

And all thanks to you, Harry wonders what he had to worry about in the first place.

After breakfast, you went back to your place, Harry in your living room while you got dressed for the day, changing your sweats to jeans and slipping back out of your room. “Alright, what’s the plan?” You asked, tugging the sleeves of his sweater down to make paws. It wasn’t like Harry hadn’t seen you with his sweater on, but it seemed to make him more flustered everytime you did wear it. He shrugged and looked you up and down quickly. “I like your sweater, where’d y’get it?” He joked, in an attempt to mask his blush.

“From this really cute guy, he just gave it to me one day.” You shrugged, and watched as he bit his bottom lip in an attempt not to smile too much. “Really cute?” He asked as you stepped closer to him. “Mhm, his name is Harry.”

“Please stop.” He said, and you stepped back, confused by his sudden change in emotion. “I’m just joking, Harry.” You said, attempting to save the moment. His bottom lip trembled and he sat down on your couch, his head falling in his hands. “I know, n’I don’t want you t’be.” He mumbled as you sat next to him. He pulled his head out of his hands and looked at you, his heart beating faster than it ever has.

“I really like you, bunny. And I don’t wanna ruin our friendship because you’re the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time, but I cant- I can’t listen to you joke about how you think I’m cute if y’don’t feel the same.”

You swear your heart bursted at his confession. A smile overtook your face and you moved so you were right next to him. You placed your hands on the sides on his face and kissed his nose. “You think I don’t feel the same? For someone so smart, m’surprised you haven’t realized it before,” you said softly, as he looked at you in wonder and shock. “I really like you too.” You leaned in and placed your lips on his, about to pull back when he didn’t respond. He then began to kiss you back and his hands found a home on your hips. When the two of you pulled away, he smiled like a fool and pecked your lips once more.

There was never anything to worry about with you, he was sure of it.

#would you believe me if I told you this took 4 days to write #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot

[sohin-ace]

Jotaro - Kakyoin's Notebook

I'm sorry, I clickbaited y'all. The pairing in this story is not official.

...unless?

As you were all about to check out of the hotel, You decided to go back to everyone's respective rooms to make sure none of you forgot anything.

The crusaders were downstairs and you came up, checking every room. Everything seemed okay, you only needed to check Kakyoin and Jotaro's room last and then go back down.

You entered their room and looked everywhere. You stumbled onto a little notebook that was halfway underneath one of the pillows right as you were about to leave.

"Huh? Oops, I nearly didn't see that!" You bent down and took the notebook in your hands. It was just about pocket-sized. "Oh I do remember Jotaro having something like that, better get it back to him!"

Out of fateful clumsiness, the notebook slipped out of your hands and fell on the ground, opening on a random page. You crouched to pick it up, but then, your gaze fell upon what was on the page.

Your breath hitched in speechless confusion at what you saw, written at the top, in big font.

'Y/NxJotaro'

Why was your name and Jotaro's on that page? Was that some kind of memo? You knew Jotaro had the habit of taking notes to remember things, but why was your name in there?

Your curiosity got the best of you and you continued to look down the page, swiping through the others. You knew it was terribly wrong and you were invading his privacy but you were just so lost. It concerned you, there was your name on it.

" 'One-shot Draft... WIP', What does that even mean? J-... Jotaro did this?" You mumbled out loud, face scrunching up in confusion and slight fear as you looked through words you couldn't understand.

" 'Soulmate AU', 'Drabble', 'NSFW'? Are those some kind of codes?"

Pages long of stories decorated the sheets, so many you couldn't read everything. There were even some sketches and drawings that you didn't have the heart to look at. You managed to read some pieces of stories that left you even more confused. You read to yourself.

' "W-wait!" Y/N said as tears prickled in her eyes, her face flushed with innocent shyness. "I-It's my first time..."

"Don't worry," Jotaro spoke, hovering above her, his voice deep and soothing. "I'll be gentle." '

...What? You don't remember ever saying anything of the sort? You couldn't comprehend what you were reading. Whatever was written in there never happened and was fictional or somesuch to you.

When it was just too much for you to handle, you closed the notebook, your face still strained with mixed feelings.

Only then did you notice that there was a cherry sticker on the back of the notebook. After looking at the first page, you saw the name of the owner.

Noriaki Kakyoin.

"K-kakyo-... Oh my gosh..."

You were shocked, but somehow relieved. It made more sense than the author being Jotaro, but it still blew you away, the fact that Kakyoin would write such things on your and Jotaro's behalf.

Suddenly, Polnareff walked by and noticed you through the open door. You flinched when he called out to you and entered the room.

"Ah there you are Y/N! We started to worry!" He approached you and he noticed what you were holding. "Oh that's Kakyoin's notebook! He can't live without it, good thing you found it! Okay, let's go now, the others are waiting. Allez, on y va!"

He guided you out of the room and you followed, clutching the notebook. Polnareff didn't have to know the weird things written on it about you and Jotaro. You had to discover what it all meant.

"That's bullshit. You don't make any sense, Y/N." Jotaro scoffed at you, a few hours after the little hotel room occurence.

"I swear on my future husband's life! I'll prove it to you, look." You turned around and looked for your red haired friend. "Kakyoin! Can I doodle something on your notebook please~?"

"Huh?" He looked at you questioningly. "Why all of a sudden?"

"Well, Mr. Joestar will take a while to come back, so might as well kill some time. I'll write a cute message for you to read on the last train home!"

The red head smiled at your goofiness and thought 'why not?'. He took out his notebook along with a pen, but instead of giving it to you, he opened it on a specific empty page.

"Here," He handed you the items. "Only draw on this page. Don't draw on the other pages."

You nodded. "Got it! Thank you Kakyoin~!"

You smiled innocently and as soon as the male turned his back to you, your expression turned dark and you instantly looked for Jotaro who was sitting nearby.

"Jojo! Here, I have it, let's do this!" You stood in front of him with the notebook in your hands and he sighed.

"Yare yare daze, I'm not betraying his trust because of your shadiness."

"It's not like that! There's-..." You cut yourself off to look behind you and check if Kakyoin was looking.

You leaned down, inching towards Jotaro's face and whispered quietly. "There are things about us in here. Last time I saw it on accident, but if Kakyoin writes stuff about us, it's our legitimate right to know!"

"Says who? Are you a lawyer or something?"

"Jojo please!!" You pleaded while gripping on the collar of his gakuran, moving the chains on it and making them clang loudly.

The sudden noise alerted the cherry-haired fellow who turned his head to look at you both from afar. His eyes instantly widened and sparkled with vicious yet happy stars.

He loved to see his two best friends interract and, he knew damn well he took half of your interractions out of context, but that's what made them so good. His imagination started running wild at the scene before him.

The way you desperately held onto Jotaro, your faces, so close to each other, your begging eyes looking at him, yearning for his lips, waiting for one thing only.

'Jojo, please!' Kakyoin muttered what he imagined you would say. 'Say yes... I've been dying to kiss you!'

Back to you two, Jotaro clicked his tongue and looked away, closing his eyes in frustration. He hated the fact that he just couldn't refuse you anything.

"Tch! You're so fucking annoying. Fine, I get it, give it to me." Jotaro grumbled and moved your hands away from him, snatching the notebook from your hand.

'Tch! You know I can't resist you. Fine, don't beg for me to stop when I start messing you up.' Kakyoin continued, imitating his friend's deep voice under his breath and being surprisingly in character, for the inappropriate things he was imagining.

Kakyoin tensed up with anticipation when Jotaro suddenly grabbed your wrists, his big strong hands overpowering your fragile ones easily. You may have made the first move, but he would take the lead.

If it wasn't for the public surrounding you, Kakyoin was sure his friend would have gotten up and slammed you against the wall, pinning your hands at your side while you whimpered his name cutely. But he had to hold back, at least for now, or so Kakyoin daydreamed.

"Hey Kakyoin, what're you looking at? Come here for a bit!"

Before Kakyoin could even see the rest of the scene, which happened to be the most interesting part, he was interrupted by Polnareff who was in dire need for help with a nearby vending machine that seemed to have eaten his money.

Kakyoin sighed a bit annoyed, but joined his French comrade, not even glancing back at you. He'd have to remember to write everything down as soon as you gave him back his notebook.

Kakyoin Noriaki was an average boy that loved action and adventures, but he secretely wasn't immune to a good sweet romance story.

When you joined the crusaders, your interactions with Jotaro seemed as platonic as with the rest of the men. But for some reason, the boy started to feel some kind of connection between you two.

He didn't know when or how it started, but he felt like something was different at a certain point.

Why was it so cute when, one day, you removed Jotaro's hat to fix the pins that were moved out of place after a fight, and he let you put it back on him, even though he never lets anybody touch it?

Or maybe it was that other time in a restaurant where, after Jotaro eyed your dessert for a while, you exchanged your cakes to let him have a taste, stealing a bite from his own in the process.

Or that day when you struggled put your earrings back on and he had to help you out, only to struggle even more, his fingers too big and clumsy to be accurate. He had to call out Star Platinum to do it while he held your hair out of the way.

Even the simplest of gestures seemed romantic and adorable to him. He was sure something was going on between you two, and yet, you were too dense to realize it. All of this fueled his inner fanboy and it prevented him from sleeping at night.

He shipped you two so goddamn much.

He was guilty, but he loved every single bit of it. Of course, no one could know. If someone knew, especially you two, that'd be the end of him.

You were all waiting for the next train to arrive, which was a big 40 minutes. Joseph and Abdul went to buy something to snack on while you waited and Polnareff went to the restroom.

Kakyoin was sitting next to you, his back resting against the wall and his eyes were closed. As you thought he had fallen asleep, you took this moment to turn the other way to talk to your nonchalant friend.

"You see?" You spoke softly, careful to not wake Kakyoin up. "I told you there were stuff about us in that notebook!"

"Shut up, there were only messages on that page, I'm sure the others were the same." He grumbled with the same low intensity as you. "And you know damn well he can be a weirdo sometimes."

"But still, I want to understand... And also, what does 'smut' even mean?"

He pretended to be asleep, but his mind was racing.

Kakyoin who wasn't quite sleeping and very much listening to whatever he could hear through the background noise of the station, flinched and started blushing.

Just, when and where did you heard that term?

" 'Smut'?" Jotaro looked at you with confused furrowed eyebrows. "Hell if I know. You speak better english than I do, shouldn't you know?"

"Well I..."

Before the conversation could go down even further, Kakyoin feigned waking up and got up from his slouched position.

You noticed and turned around, staring at him, scared that he would ask what you were talking about, as you didn't want to confront him about the weird things you saw in his notes. If he ever knew, he would finish you. But something worse happened.

Jotaro nudged you and tilted his head towards Kakyoin, but you quite didn't get the message.

"Oi Kakyoin, do you know what 'smut' means? You know a lot of languages, right?" Jotaro asked like it was nothing and you gasped, secretly wanting to slap Jotaro for his indiscretion.

Kakyoin looked over at him, unfazed as ever. "Smut? Hmmm I guess I can look it up later. Where did you hear that?"

Jotaro innocently signed your death warrant. "Y/N just told me."

"JOTARO!!!" You shot up from your seat and stared at him in pure disbelief and betrayal. "OH MY- ARE YOU SERIOUS?! YOU TRAITOR!!!"

"Oh really?" Kakyoin teased, sending you a knowing look. "What's going on with you two? Are you keeping secrets from me?"

You blushed and flinched as Kakyoin's amethyst eyes stared through your soul. Before Jotaro could say anything else, you slapped a hand over his big mouth and Kakyoin's eye glinted.

"I-I mean... No! Wait. There's something I need to tell Jojo, excuse us for a sec."

You then leaned in and cupped Jotaro's ear as you whispered. Kakyoin looked at you in pure satisfaction, trying his best to not start smiling and giggling like a goofy schoolgirl.

Oh no, he didn't need to hear the sweet nothings you were deliciously breathing on Jotaro's now tingling skin. Imagining it was more than enough.

You leaned back and softly spoke to him. "Don't ruin this for us. I'm trusting you."

"Yare Yare daze. You put me into this in the first place. Don't complain."

Kakyoin's eyes widened and he turned his head around, trying to hide his expression and pretended he totally didn't hear that. Oh how sweet the lack of context was for his little fanboy mind. He wouldn't ask too many questions since you were offering him such a good show.

On the train, you waited until Kakyoin was completely out and asleep to subdue his notebook. That would make a good reading on the 4 hours long travel.

"Yes that's it! Right on the left pocket, yeah that one!"

You guided Jotaro who was hiding not too far from Kakyoin's seat as your delinquent friend used Star Platinum to steal your cherry loving friend's notebook.

When he finally had it, Star Platinum brought it back and both you and Jotaro proceeded to read through the many drafts and stories about you two.

Getting ready for one hell of a joy ride.

Bonus:

Kakyoin stretched and took a deep breath of fresh air as he got off the train.

"Aah~! I slept like a log. Huh? What's wrong, why are you two so red? Did you get motion sick, maybe?"

Kakyoin commented upon seeing your and Jotaro's flushed face as you got off. Your shoulders were slumped in shame and Jotaro was hiding behind his hat like a wanted criminal.

"Uh yeah... Here Kakyoin, you dropped this..." you groaned and handed him his notebook.

He thanked you and took his due. When he was gone, you glanced at Jotaro and you both shared intense empathy and regret.

Don't steal Kakyoin's notebook.

Oh man, wouldn't it be fun and also a bit sad if after Dio was defeated, Y/N and Jotaro became a couple?

You walked by the river, holding hands with Jotaro after a long week of finals. You suddenly stopped in your tracks and looked at the water reflecting the orange sunset.

Jotaro looked at you confused, but followed your gaze, until both of you laid eyes on a young girl painting the scenery on a canvas.

"You know... He would have loved this..." You started softly, a melancholic look cast on the girl as her Stand posed on the grass like a model, thinking herself only could see it. "To see us together, I mean..."

Jotaro inspected the girl, her red curls and green uniform moving messily in the wind. "Did he ever write something about us watching him paint?"

You chuckled sadly. "Why didn't he think of that? His stories were great, but he was in none of them..."

Jotaro noticed you biting your lip as your voice wavered slightly and he squeezed your hand in reassurance. You laid your head on his arm and he responded by bringing you closer to him.

"But now he is."

OKAY AUTHOR OUT

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo #jjba #jojo no kimyou na bouken #writing #x reader #reader insert #jojo part 3 #part 3 #part 3 spoilers #spoiler in the last note #jotaro kujo #jotaro #jotaro kujo x reader #stardust crusaders

[heartbreakgrill]

Love Song; Corbyn Besson

description: yeah just some good ol’ friends to lovers 😋

Your face clenched up as the nurse swabbed your nose. The urge to sneeze came over when she tugged it out, and you quickly pulled up your mask. After a round of watery eyes and the oddest facial expression, the sneeze subsided.

“Thank you,” you told her, a laugh dancing at the edge of you tone.

Her eyes crinkled, showing the smile beneath her mask. “You’re welcome. It’ll just be a minute.”

You stood from the chair, plopping down beside Zach on the couch. He was playing on his phone, but looked up when he noticed your presence.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” He watched your hand rub at your nose over the mask.

“Uh, yeah,” you chuckled.

Zach went back to his phone and you unlocked your own, crossing a leg over the other. Soon, his name was called and he snapped off his mask. Negative.

Daniel replaced Zach in the seat beside you. You bid him hello and he said, “Hey. How are you today?”

“Was doing fine before I had to have a stick in my nose,” you giggled.

Daniel laughed as well. “Yeah, but whatever we have to do to get to celebrate.”

“New normal,” you nodded.

“Y/N!” The other nurse called out from her clipboard.

You flashed your eyebrows at Daniel and stood from the couch. Slipping your phone into your butt pocket, you walked over to the table.

“You are negative, my dear. We’re having everyone who has already been tested to stay in the kitchen.”

You took the packet of your information from the nurse, thanked them again, and joined Zach, Corbyn, and Christian in the kitchen. You slipped the pink mask in your jean jacket pocket as you took the empty bar stool next to Christian.

“Hey, guys,” you greeted.

Corbyn perked up at the sound of your voice, peaking up from his phone. He was directly across from you, leaning his chin against the ball of his palm. You glanced around at the boys, meeting his eyes over the top of his phone.

“Hey, Y/N, when did you get here?” Christian spoke, drawing your eyes away from Corbyn.

You cleared your throat and folded your hands in your lap. They were clammy now, budding heat throughout your face. His eyes.

“Like ten minutes ago. I said I was here in the group chat,” you reminded Christian.

He shrugged, “I don’t really pay attention.”

“Rip,” you laughed.

Zach and Christian went back to their conversation about the album, the only valid topic of interest for the night ahead.

You glanced back over at Corbyn, who had shifted so he could pretend like he hadn’t blushed at your presence. You sat there for a moment, contemplating saying anything at all. Ultimately you settled on tugging out your phone again.

You leaned on the counter, scrolling through people’s Instagram stories. You swiped past Why Don’t We’s shared page and fell on Corbyn’s. It was a selfie, one he took mere moments before you sat down. You flushed red, eyes gently lifting to take in how he looked right now.

His eyes.

You forced an awkward smile at the awkward eye contact, feeling...awkward.

You looked back down at your phone. It seems everyone of the boy’s friends and family members had posted about the album. Except you. You felt slightly guilty, voicing your concerns to the boys before you. Jonah and Daniel had since joined you guys in the kitchen, talking with Christian and Zach.

“No worries, Y/N. I mean, you’re here,” Jonah shrugged it off.

Zach added, “Yeah, but if you wanna post something go ahead.

“Why don’t we just take a selfie or something?” Daniel suggested, tipping his water bottle towards the phone in your hand.

“Oh, yeah. That’s good. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really want you guys to get number 1 on the charts,” you grinned sheepishly.

Jack appeared beside you, slinging on arm around your shoulder. You noticed Corbyn shift again, gulping and eyeing Jack’s arm.

“Oh, we will, Y/N, we will,” he winked at you.

You laughed loudly at his expression. “I believe in you, Jack Avery.”

He squeezed your shoulder. Everybody moved to stand around you, Corbyn ending up too far away. You tried to see where it was he was standing, just because you felt comfortable being able to see him, seeing you. But you couldn’t.

You were attempting to hold the phone out far enough to get everyone in frame, but your arm wasn’t long enough. Everybody laughed at your struggle. Jonah took the phone from you and angled it at the group. He snapped the photo and everyone dispersed.

Jonah ended up in the seat across from you, Zach next to him where he had been. Daniel, Jack, and Christian decided to start pouring drinks, since it was nearing 11 pm. Corbyn stood there for a minute, contemplating running off the edge of the world.

He settled in the seat beside you which drew your attention from your phone. You had been captioning the Instagram post, struggling to come up with something interesting.

“Hey, Corbyn,” you weakly smiled.

He smiled. “Hey.” His voice made your knees weak.

You flashed the screen at him, pushing down the red blush willing itself to paint your face. “What do you think I should caption it?”

“I don’t know,” he let out a breathy laugh, “uh, maybe a joke. Like, track 4 was written about me.”

You shared a laugh with him, happy nothing felt stuffed of weird energy for even a mere few minutes of conversation.

“That would be really funny, but probably cause some drama. How about, like, ‘dibs on Love Song?’ Because I genuinely feel like that ones gonna be so good.”

Corbyn gulped, “I wrote that one with Daniel.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “Then, I call it.”

Red cheeks all around.

You quickly posted it. Soon, the room was engulfed with music, the 3 singles the boys had released filling the air. There was a single camera on the band, standing around the kitchen island you had once been sitting at.

You stood to the side with Anna and Kay, a glass of champagne in your hand. You had since abandoned your Jean jacket, revealing the flowery, thin strapped corset that left your midrif out in the open. You felt really hot, be it because of the outfit, your sparse interactions with Corbyn, or the alcohol beginning to take hold of your bones.

See, there was something there with Corbyn, something nobody really even knew about. In fact, you didn’t even know if Corbyn himself remembered.

You had been good friends with the entire band since they moved to LA, attending concerts when you weren’t in school and hanging out constantly. Of course, as any pathetic pining story went, you’d been in love with Corbyn since you’d met him, but his heart had always belonged to Christina.

When you discovered they broke up, you felt elated for half a second. Then, he called you in tears.

“I know we’re not expectionally close, but I need somebody. The guys, they just don’t understand.l

Since that moment, you guys had been attached at the hip. Quarantine had been boring at first, terrifying, even. But, then you’d begun to spend every waking moment with Corbyn. You were the one who suggested he dye his hair black, had helped him do it. you’d gone with him when the tattoo shops opened again and helped him pick which one looked best. You’d helped them move into their new house, helped Corbyn decorate his new space. Hell, you’d even suggested a song lyric or two when laying on Corbyn’s bed, listening to him across the room on his guitar.

And then, on your birthday a few months ago, you had gotten exceptionally drunk to drown the sorrows of lusting after your best friend. When the clock struck midnight, Corbyn had already hauled down a taxi from the bar, slung your arm around his neck, cradling your waist as he tried to get you inside.

Out of nowhere, the sky began pouring buckets of rain. You fell against his chest, laughing hysterically at the ironically cliche moment. Corbyn somehow nuzzled his nose into your neck, giggling along with your drunken haze.

You pulled back gently, the closeness emitting a fierce confidence in your gut which enabled you to lean up and kiss him. He kissed you back, but when he remembered how drunk you were, he tugged away.

“I can’t do this,” he urged, but you mistook his respect for consent as rejection.

You mumbled, “But I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t remember for a few days after, what had happened that night. All you knew was you had woken up in Corbyn’s bed, his clothes on you, a headache in your head, and your dress soaking wet over the bathtub.

Then, a few days later, when you were perched on Corbyn’s bed, watching an episode of Big Mouth, he made a joke about how, “in love you are with,” him. Your eyes widened, breath hitched, and a memory pulled itself from your brain. You suddenly stood up, his arm dropping to the comforter since it had been around your shoulders.

You made some excuse about homework, though you both knew you had finished your finals the night prior. Since then, neither of you had really spoken at all.

You clenched the champagne glass between your fingers, turning them white from frustration. You felt a hand on your shoulder, turning towards Anna.

“Everything okay?” She glanced between your eyes, noticing the tears welled up there.

You sniffled and blinked the tears away. One dribbled down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. Anna’s bottom lip jutted out in a pitiful expression and she pulled you into a hug. You wanted to collapse into her, sobbing your way through the album’s release. But, you squeezed your face shut and grabbed the composure that was running away from you.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tugged back and set your glass on the table beside you. You quickly strode to the bathroom, shutting it behind you.

You wiped under your eyes with a wet cloth, salvaging your eye makeup. Your eyes were still red, though, red and pupils blown up in a sad countenance.

There was a knock on the door and you tensed up. Daniel’s voice came from the other side of the door, soft and sweet.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

You already knew he had seen you crying on Anna, and probably watched you storm away as quietly as one could when they were this upset. You were taking him away from his night and that made you feel just horrible.

“Yeah,” your voice was weak.

Daniel gently opened the door. He didn’t try to hug you or tell it was going to be okay. Instead, he cradled your face in his head, pushing the hair back from your cheeks.

“I know. You don’t have to explain or try to push me away. I just know. All I can give is the fact that we wrote these songs about our lives. These songs are personal.”

You met his eyes, swimming in the undemanding answers he was laying in front of you. “What do you mean?”

He gave a warm smile, “Corbyn got really good at songwriting. Just listen.”

You hugged Daniel quickly before shutting off the light. He slung his arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to the kitchen. Everyone counted down for midnight and soon enough, the new songs were blasting through the kitchen.

You anticipated Love Song through the entirety of Be Myself, barely paying any attention to the song that you knew Daniel wrote exclusively by himself. Soon, Daniel’s voice was dancing through the speakers in an upbeat rhythm, singing the literal love song.

Right after, Corbyn’s voice came again.

“You came out of nowhere like a hurricane.”

You perked up, holding yourself together with your arms. Daniel caught your eyes and nodded firmly. Your eyes flickered across the room and met Corbyn‘s. He’d been watching you for a while, you settled. Though his band mates and friends were dancing around the kitchen, he was solemnly drinking his own champagne. His hair was damp from the bottle Jonah had cracked open at midnight.

“Pulled me in and kissed me in the rain. And I fell for you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You found his eyes again, your face bright red. An overwhelming grin came over you. Corbyn smiled in response, a dry chuckle shaking his shoulders. He shook his head, finally relieved.

You set down your glass again, tapping Anna on the shoulder. “I’ll be back, k?”

She squeezed your shoulder again, still feeling sympathetic. You looked to Corbyn and nodded towards the back door.

You slipped outside, taking a seat on one of the pool chairs. It was dark outside, only the light from the kitchen washing through the glass sliding doors.

You heard the doors open and close again, looking up from your shoes. You stood up, breathing in deeply. Corbyn stopped in front of you, fingers squeezing each other.

You nervously smiled up at him. “So...” you ached, “so, um, I guess I really did call track 4.”

Corbyn laughed, his hands coming around to your back. He pushed you into his chest, yours going up around his neck.

“Yeah,” his face drew back, “and it was about you.”

You grinned, pursing your lips to try and push it down. But, you were tired of pushing it all down, so you let your lips widen before landing themselves on Corbyn’s.

“You could be the one, girl you’re driving me crazy.”

#corbyn besson #corbyn besson x reader #corbyn besson imagine #Corbyn besson x y/n #Corbyn Besson imagines #why don’t we fluff #why don’t we x reader #why don’t we imagine #why don’t we #why don’t we x y/n

[donghyuckcuyhgnod]

Would u be willing to have a follow up or pt 2 to guilt flavored cupcakes? If not, could i request a jisung angst that ends with fluff? Hehe 💚💚💚

i tried to fit both of your requests into one :) the beginning is realllyyyy angsty, but i promise it gets better! it’s a bit long, i got a little carried away haha,, but i hope you enjoy <3

(part one is located here.)

“this is all your fault!” jisung yelled, slamming the door he had just walked through, his eyes shining with tears and his voice shaky. out of surprise and shock, all twenty-two of his fellow members had their eyes blown wide. “if you assholes just kept your mouths shut, this wouldn’t be happening right now!”

“jisung, what are you talking about?” taeyong gently asked. even the choreographer had stopped in his tracks upon the youngest’s unexpected entrance.

“them!” he pointed to the dreamies, sitting on the floor in front of the mirror. confused, all of the boys rose their eyebrows. “the one thing that makes me happy—the one person that truly makes me happy isn’t mine anymore because of you,” he spit out harshly, pointing to the five boys who he had initially put the blame on. his phone was clutched tightly in his hands, still lit up and on the page of his call log; your name being at the top of the list. 

“jisung, what the hell are you talking about?” renjun asked, confusion laced in his voice. it wasn’t long before jisung’s bottom lip began quivering, tears streaming freely down his face as he let out an characteristically loud sob. “y/n broke up with me,” he choked out, shutting his eyes so tight as if he couldn’t bare to say those words. he dropped his phone on the ground, pulling at his hair in distress. 

jaemin rolled his eyes, “of course she did. we already warned you, jisung. she was using you for your idol status. think of this as a good thing.” the dreamies shook their heads in agreement. 

johnny spoke up, “guys, i don’t think now is a good time-”

“fuck you.”

silence. complete, utter, silence. jaemin—as well as the rest of nct—was speechless. never, in all their years of knowing jisung, had his members heard him cuss in such a bitter, hateful, and sincere way. shocked wasn’t even the word. 

“what did you just say to me?” jaemin’s eyes were wide, his jaw open in surprise. did he just say what i think he said? 

“you heard me loud and clear, jaemin. fuck you. fuck all five of you. you never gave her a fucking chance! all of you are always so mean to her, and for what? what did she ever do to you? you never even tried to like her. you would push her aside, say mean things straight to her face. you treated her like a goddamned criminal!” his tears were nonstop, cheeks a bright red and eyelids swollen from the constant tears. he sniffled, biting his lip in an attempt to control his sobs. 

“what did she say during the call?” doyoung asked cautiously, laying a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. jisung sniffled again, gaining enough composure to speak.

“sh-she called because her dress was ruined. the dress for the awards, y’know. i paid for it to be altered to her size, and she came by the dorm yesterday when i wasn’t there to pick it up. and she went to take it out of the bag today, and there was paint all over it! and it was ripped in a bunch of places, and when i asked her how she ruined it, she told me that it wasn’t her. but i know exactly who it was,” jisung deadpanned, his eyes growing dark as he looked at the five guilty boys sitting on the floor. their lack of response made the answer very clear to everyone in the room. 

kun sighed in disappointment, “what the hell is wrong with you guys?”

“it was her grandma’s dress.” jisung looked down at his feet, his eyes shining with tears again; and not because of the breakup. but rather, his mind went to the hurt in your voice when crying to him over the phone. “jisung, this dress is the only thing i had left of her. and now it’s completely ruined.”

“what?” chenle said. 

“it was her grandma’s dress. the woman who raised her, who died last year. it was her dress and it was the only thing y/n had left of her. and you fucking ruined it, and tore it to shreds! how fucked up are you guys!? she broke up with me because she can’t do it anymore. she can’t handle the way you treat her. she dealt with it for two years now, and this was the final straw. are you fucking happy now?”

the immediate guilt suddenly had everyone’s heart skipping a beat—and not in a good way. a series of flashbacks had appeared in their minds; all of the times when you were at the dorm, making jisung laugh until he couldn’t breathe. the countless times you brought him soup and cuddles when he wasn’t feeling good, or the small pep-talks you would give him before a performance that always seemed to calm him. the way you always cooked and cleaned around the dorm because you knew how hard jisung and his members worked. all the times he had gushed—and gushed some more—about how amazing you were and how much he loved you with the most joyful smile he had ever shown. 

“jisung, we-”

“save it.”

shit. we really fucked up.

—

a whole four-and-a-half weeks had passed when jeno called you. you weren’t expecting to see his name pop up on your phone, thus the reason you gasped out loud. you assumed he was calling to tell you how bad of a person you are for breaking up with jisung—so you didn’t answer. it’s not like you wanted to break up with him; the dreamies gave you no other choice. when haechan called not minutes later, however, you started to grow confused. surely they would give up, right? but then renjun called. and then, jaemin. and then, chenle. eventually, your curiosity got the best of you.

“hello?” you answered nervously, trying your absolute best to stabilize your voice. due to all the crying and frustration, however, your voice came out more hoarse and broken than intended. the other line was silent. 

“. . . chenle?” 

“meet me at the coffee shop next to the dorms in twenty minutes.”

“what? why?” you began, but the line had already gone dead. confused, you dragged yourself out of your bed and made yourself look presentable. well, as presentable as you could, considering the fact that you’d been hibernating in your room out of sadness for the past four weeks.

you arrived to the cafe with a heavy heart. you were sure your heart was going to burst out of your chest at the sight of the five boys who seemingly hated you, sitting around a table with one empty chair. you hesitantly walked in, the bell on the door gaining their attention. you smiled lightly at them out of habit. you sat down in silence, hugging your sweater a little tighter on instinct, feeling small under their gazes. they were surely going to scold you, right? i mean, you did just break their best friend’s heart. but yours was broken, too. 

the boys took in your appearance, and with one glance, they knew you were just as heartbroken as jisung. their younger friend had barely spoken since that day; he would perform and practice like always, but the minute the cameras were off, he was cold and distant. he locked himself in his room every night, forcing jaemin to sleep on the couch. he had barely eaten, his energy and passion dropping drastically due to a lack of motivation. even the fans had started suspecting the changes. he wasn’t acting himself.

haechan was the first to break the silence. “we’re sorry, y/n. . .” he spoke quietly, avoiding your eyes in shame and guilt. your eyes widened in surprise, a shocked huh? coming from your mouth. is this a joke? as if renjun read your mind, he answered your question.

“we’re serious. we never gave you a chance. we were so mean to you and we’re sorry for everything. truly sorry,” renjun said, a glint of sincerity in his eyes. the apology, in all honesty, pricked at a certain part of your heart. like a bandaid being ripped from a wound, and all it took was a gentle smile from jaemin before your eyes were watering. “especially about your grandma’s dress,” renjun added on in a guilty mutter, training his eyes downward. you flinched at his words, remembering the mess they made of your precious grandmother’s dress.

you sniffled, your tears flowing freely now as you cleared your throat. “you guys were just worried about jisung, it’s understandable-“ you began, before chenle cut you off.

“why are you so nice to us, y/n? we treated you like shit from day one for absolutely no reason, and you’re still being nice to us and making excuses for our behavior. we know we’re in the wrong, y/n. you don’t need to say anything.”

you gaped at him, before slowly nodding your head as you cried. you were surprised to feel a comforting hand on your shoulder, looking up and seeing a kind-smiled haechan through your tears. “seriously, why? you’re too kind, y/n.” you could only look at him, muttering a small, “because jisung loves you guys so much.”

your own words made you cry harder, lightly laughing at yourself out of nerves. “i’m sorry for crying like this,” you said, swiping at your red and puffy cheeks, trying to keep up with the vigorous tears.

jaemin lightly chuckled, “it’s no big deal. it’s no different than jisung, nowadays.” at this, your heart nearly ripped in half, and you felt a pain in your chest that you could only describe as excruciating. you looked up at him wide-eyed, stuttering over yourself, struggling to find the words.

“he’s a mess, y/n,” jeno spoke truthfully, his own eyes watering a bit at the thought of jisung cooped up in his room, crying himself to sleep every night. “don’t blame it on yourself. it’s not your fault. it’s ours,” he said.

your cries hadn’t stopped, the people around giving you weird looks and questioning eyes. “please talk to him, y/n,” chenle pleaded, eyeing you carefully. you quickly regained your composure, hiccups now replacing your cries. you thought for a moment, “what if he’s too upset with me? what if he wants nothing to do with me anymore?”

“trust us, y/n. he wants everything to do with you. he needs you.”

—

your hand shook as you lifted it up to the doorknob of the familiar practice room. you let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes in an attempt to gain back your composure. jisung and his members were leaving for tour in a few days, and you refused to let him leave without talking to him. you were planning to wait until nighttime, but as you sat in your room with your mind swirling, you couldn’t wait any longer.

you had finally gained the courage to open the door, but before you could, someone else beat you to it. mark looked at you with surprise, an unreadable expression on his face. you quietly greeted him, nervously picking at your nails as you shuffled on your feet.

“y/n? what are you doing here?” he spoke, his eyes softening at the clear distress on your face. you lightly peaked inside the practice room, and mark instantly got the hint. he quickly moved aside to make room for you, an encouraging smile on his face.

the world seemed to stop, then. the moment you walked into the room, jisung had caught your eyes in the mirror. his hair was disheveled, his eyes puffy, red, and tired. the bags under his eyes sadly matched yours, his face looking slimmer than normal and his figure hunched over in a sulk. his skin was red and uneven, a few stress pimples coating his forehead and his chin.

“y/n?” he spoke suddenly, his voice broken, and your eyes instantly teared up at the sound of his voice cracking. nearly everyone was staring at you wide-eyed, and you gulped nervously.

“i know this probably isn’t the best time, but i-i just. . . “ you trailed, losing your voice as you looked at the ground. you looked up again, jisung now facing you with a sad look in his eyes. you sighed, “can we talk?”

—

the door was closed and the boys couldn’t hear anything, but that didn’t stop them from looking through the small glass window. even their choreographer was trying to get a better view, all of them hoping and praying that you were here to get their maknae back. they could only see your face, jisung’s back to the door. you held his hands tightly in yours, your lips moving and tears flying freely down your face.

they couldn’t see jisung, but the way his shoulders shook vigorously was a clear indication that he, too, was sobbing. your regretful words and pleas of i love you more than anything, i’m such an idiot for breaking up with you sent daggers through jisung’s heart. your eyes screamed the words forgive me, please. and how was he to say no to you?

he nodded his head with intent, “i could never be mad at you for this, y/n. i’m such a coward for not sticking up for you-“

“don’t say that, park jisung. you did stick up for me. it’s all in the past now, okay? they. . . they apologized to me. they’re the reason i’m here right now,” you confessed, jisung’s eyes widening at your words.

“none of it matters now, i promise. please, can we forget this ever happened? i can’t be without you, baby,” you cried, the affectionate name sounding so familiar yet so foreign to jisung. it tugged at his heart strings, all strumming for you in every way possible. without hesitation, he nodded his head, a relieved smile taking over his features. 

you practically wailed in relief, taking his face in your hands and planting your lips on his in a passionate kiss; all of the emotions that the two of you had felt over the past weeks were being poured out, your pain matching each other’s in the most intimate and vulnerable way possible. the taste of your simultaneous tears didn’t matter in that moment; all that mattered was that you were his again, and he was yours.

“they’re kissing! i repeat, they’re kissing!” taeyong exclaimed, a series of happy and excited shouts filling the room as the members cheered for the both of you. jisung pulled away, only to look back and see a bunch of prying eyes through the window, all smiling and high-fiving each other at the scene before them. and the best part? the dreamies were the happiest of them all. you chuckled at them, causing jisung to look back at you in amazement.

“i love you so much, y/n. please never leave me again,” he whispered, burying his face in your neck and pulling you as close as he possibly could. your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, closing your eyes in bliss and letting out a sigh of relief. “never again,” you assured both him, and yourself. you basked in his embrace. finally. you were home. he held you as if you were to disappear the second he let go, and in that moment, jisung concluded that losing you was his biggest fear.

#nct scenarios #nct dream #nct dream blurbs #nct dream boyfriend #nct dream imagines #nct fluff #nct imagines #kpop fluff #nct dream fluff #nct angst #nct dream jisung #nct jisung #nct park jisung #nct dream park jisung #park jisung #park jisung drabbles #park jisung fluff #park jisung imagines #park jisung scenarios #park jisung angst

[jikseud]

[17:26]

pairings: felix x gender neutral reader

wc: 2147

genre: fluff with a bit of angst if u squint hard.

warnings: mentions of cheating (?), y/n being an ass idk what else, pls lmk if there are things to include hehe

a/n: I don’t really write that often soooo...

“I don't get why characters in horror movies are this dumb,” I whispered to Felix as we were watching this horror movie that we randomly found on Netflix. I heard him chuckle softly at my statement.

“That just adds to the thrill and interest, I guess,” he replied. He kissed my temple before pulling me closer to him.

My phone suddenly rang on the first half of the movie. I quickly went to see who it was and my heartbeat immediately picked up its pace after seeing the caller ID being “My love💖”.

Okay, now we're starting...

I am turning into a such a nervous wreck right now. My hands are starting to shake and my heart is starting to beat so loud that I could basically hear it in my ears. I stood up, looking at Felix silently excusing myself. I walked a little towards our room's window -which is not too far from where he is- before picking up the call.

"Hello? Sorry, I'm with him right now. I'll call you later," I ‘said’ quietly to the 'person on the other line' before ‘hanging up’. I looked up at Felix to see his reaction and saw that he's looking at me so seriously I felt my knees buckle. I tried to smile at him but failed nonetheless.

“Who was that?” he asked. I opened my mouth to answer him but nothing came out as my throat went dry. He raised his eyebrows at me. I lowered my head.

Okay, here we go.

"I-," I tried to speak but I just couldn't find the words. I sighed before looking back up at him. "It's no one," I told him, still trying to calm myself. He then rolled his eyes at me.

“If you're going to fucking fool me like this, then do better. I'm not stupid, Y/N. I clearly saw the caller ID,” he replied harshly. “And "I'm with him"? Really Y/n? If you're going to do this to me, give a little respect at least.” he added and my legs shook at his tone.

“Then why'd you still ask if you knew already?” I talked back quietly, too weakly for my own liking. He snickered.

“Because I wanted you to explain yourself at least,” he said and I swallowed hard.

“What's there to explain, though. You've already seen it, it's all that there is,” I told him and he scoffed.

“You could've at least told me where I went wrong... where everything went wrong? Y/n, you can't do this and expect me to not ask you for any explanation, I'm not as stupid as you think I am," he paused a little before continuing, "On what aspect of this fucking relationship was I lacking, huh? Are you getting too bored with me that's why you did this? Am I not enough for you anymore that's why you decided to find another one? Am I not loving you enough for you do this to me huh, Y/n? I thought we were having something special? I thought you said I was and will always be the one for you? What happened, baby? When did everything change? When did things go wrong between us? What did they do to get you sway that easily?” he questioned, his voice shaking from hurt. I sighed, every word was like a stab in my chest. He looked at me, his eyes searching mine for some explanation… any reaction. When they didn't give him anything, he spoke once again.

“When did this start?” he asked. My breath hitched. 

Well now, it’s working. 

It took me a while to answer but I did when I saw that he was getting impatient. “Just today,” I answered, stifling my laugh. He looked at me confusedly and I looked back at him trying to hide my smile.

“What do you mean ‘just today’?” he asked again.

I can't take this anymore...

“It's a prank, you dumbo!” I told him as he sat there, his confusion clouding him even more. I sat back down beside him as I tried to hug him but I was shocked when he moved away from me. “Why?” I asked. He stared at me with such hatred now and I couldn't help but feel nervous once again with the look he's giving me.

“What do you mean ‘Why?’ Y/n?” he asked. “You talk as if I didn't just caught you cheating on me,” he said. I gasped.

“Baby, I told you, it was a prank,” I replied with hurt in my voice. He looked at me, still not trusting my words. “I'm serious, Lix. It's just a prank. Do you not trust me enough? Go on and check if you want. I could never do something like that to you, you know that,” I told him with shaking eyes as I handed him my phone. He gave me daggers while he took my phone in his hand. When he finally held my phone, I felt my hand start to shake a little harder as I retreat it back and I think he noticed it with the way he glared at me.

“If you're being honest then what are you so nervous for?” he asked me skeptically. My eyes shot up at him, looking at him with wide eyes.

“H-huh, who said something about being nervous, h-hah-ah. Pffft I'm not nervous, shut up,” I told him. He glared at me once again before going back to checking my phone. I saw him swipe from left to right, probably looking for something that would prove my innocence.

It took him a few minutes -because he practically opened every single app in it just to be sure- before finally getting to the last page where he saw the widget labeled "To the man I love the most.💖" that I had prepared for him. I looked at his face just to check his reaction and then I saw him looking at it confusedly. He stared at it for a solid five seconds while his thumb was hovering over it.

The widget looked like it was excitedly shaking from my point of view, just waiting to be finally pressed and when the thumb above finally clicked on it, that's when all hell broke loose.

My mind had gone crazy by the time he started reading it. Tons of thoughts clouding my head and spilling continuously out of it like a water inside a broken dam, just like how every feeling I had has been spilling on Felix at the moment...

The widget leads to my notes app wherein a letter is written in a pink background. A color I know he really loves.

“To my baby,

Hello, my love! It's weird talking to you like this because I wasn't really fond of letters and all these sweet things but for you, I'm alright being cheesy and all that. First of all, I'm so sorry if I ever hurt you in the process of this thing... whatever this is... whatever it is that I did before you finally get to read this poorly written letter of mine which contains everything that I wanted to say to you but couldn't because I'm too shy hngg *insert cute face right here*. Anyways, I hope that you finally believe me that what happened before this was all a prank (the proof is literally beside this widget which is the Fake Call app, so don't fuck with me). Felix Lee, aka my sunshine, my happiness, my everything... I wanted to thank you for being the best man ever for me. Thank you for making me happy everyday, for taking care of me and or loving me every single moment that you have. You are seriously the best guy I have ever met (next to Harry Styles, of course... kidding) and I love you for that. I am so thankful that the Gods have given you to me (yes, bitch I own you... lol kidding again... but I'm not sure if this'll still be a joke after this though) and I am so thankful that you decided to stay with me even though I'm just... me. Felix, I don't know what else to say but just know that I love you and every single thing about you. I love how you scrunch your nose up whenever I make an awful joke but still try to laugh just to satisfy me (you're evil btw). I love how you cook for me when I don't wanna just because I'm too lazy (yes chef, go off!!!). I love how your eyes lights up when you're talking about something you love and something that you reaaally love doing (a.k.a ME). I love how your hair looks in the morning and even when you always say that you hate it, you still look so beautiful nonetheless. I love your freckles as well because it feels like I am looking at a sky full of stars and you're the sun wtf does that makes sense though? There are many things that I would like to say to you but I don't know how so... Anyways, what I'm trying to say here is that, you are so amazing that I don't know how to put your amazingness into words and that I appreciate everything that you are. I love you, Felix and thank you for making me the happiest person in the world. But do you mind making me happier by marrying me?”

By the time he was finished reading my shitass letter, he was shedding tears with a smile on his face. Weird combination, I know. But it is so unfairly unfair how he still looks beautiful looking like this.

He stared up at me with tears still flowing out of his eyes as I slowly took the ring off from my own finger.

“I don't know what else to say to you, to be honest. I am so bad with words and you know that. I love you, though. I could go on telling you this everyday just to show you how much but I'm afraid I'd have to go on forever so will you finally answer my question and marry me? I promise I'd try and learn how to cook so you won't have to anymore… oh and I will try not to complain as much when you leave too much mess in the house,” I tried to joke just to lighten up the mood but I was confused when he started bawling out. I felt my eyes burn from tears as well and I let a few escape from them. "Why are you crying, stupid?" I asked wiping his tears off. He glared at me before pulling me into a hug and crying loudly on my shoulders. “Baby, stop crying, please. I don't know what's happening but I'm going to bawl out as well if you continue,” I told him. He sniffled before pulling away slightly.

"You... you bitch, I hate you so much for doing this to me," he said in between hiccups. "I hate you so much," he told me before bawling and hugging me again. I laugh at his cuteness even though I felt my hands shake once again. His possible answer finally clouding my mind.

I rubbed his back before kissing his neck lightly. "So are you gonna answer my question or what?" I asked him, getting a little impatient now because of nervousness. He pulled away from me.

"I hate you so much. I was supposed to be the one doing this and not you. I hate you," he said despite his eyes showing the exact opposite and still crying them out. "But just because we're here already, I have no choice but to say yes, I guess? Because I'd probably feel so bad if I rejected your goodass offer," He joked. I glared at him. "Kidding. I'd say yes anytime, you know that. I'd say yes a billion... trillion times," he told me and I smiled before putting the ring on his finger. He smiled so wide seeing the piece of jewelry on his finger before taking my face on his hand and kissing me hard.

"I love you so much, y/n," he told me after pulling away. I closed my eyes, feeling the moment. I leaned my face more to his touch.

"I love you more, baby. More than you could even imagine," I replied.

"Your prank is shit by the way," he stated after a while in silence as I hit him on the chest.

“Shut up, I still got you with my acting skills and you don't know how nervous I am while doing that thing when I didn’t have a solid plan,” I told him and he scoffed.

"Sucks for you then," he replied.

"Yeah? Well, sucks for you I'm not sucking you."

#I don't know what this is but here #lee felix #skz imagines #felix lee #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #lee felix x reader #stray kids #skz oneshots #lee felix fluff #lee felix scenario #felix scenarios #felix fluff #felix au #skz felix #stray kids felix #felix drabble #im so sorry if this is a shitass fic but #shit work #stray kids smut #skz smuts #skz smut #felix imagines #lee felix imagines #ORIGS

[jaskierswolf]

Flaming Desires

Summary: In a world where soulmates are connected through their kinks and sexual desires, Geralt and Jaskier decide to try out something new in the bedroom. Luckily for both of them, Geralt is a firefighter.

Rating: E

CW: No sex but lots of sexual content, wax play, dom/sub vibes, general hoey vibes, mentions of sex work.

Part three in this AU, part two written by @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde. Your turn babe 😘

Also shout out to @kuripon for beta-ing

________

Dreams; they were going to be Geralt’s downfall. On the menu this week was wax play, something that hadn’t even realised he was into, but he just couldn’t stop dreaming about it. Jaskier had taken the week off filming for his OnlyFans page, so it wasn’t a video, and yet Geralt couldn’t see an ordinary tea light without getting hard. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem but Jaskier had arranged a date that evening so the two of them were sat in Jaskier’s kitchen with the lights down low, and a tacky christmas candle holder sat in the middle of the table.

And Geralt couldn’t stop watching the flame, the tiny pool of molten wax at the base of the wick. It was ridiculous but he had to sit on his hand to stop himself from reaching for the candle and dipping his fingers into the wax. He’d never had this problem before. He was a firefighter for god’s sake, fire wasn’t sexy.

“Jask?”

“Yes, darling?” Jaskier cocked his head, a coy smile playing on his lips.

“Are the candles a you thing?” Geralt asked, groaning as he tried to ignore his erection and eat his food but it was persistent and he was feeling particularly horny.

His soulmate just chuckled, never breaking eye contact as his lips wrapped around his fork. The bastard then had the audacity to moan softly, licking his lips in a way that was unfairly seductive, and Geralt was about two seconds from clearing the table and having his way with Jaskier right then and there.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jaskier purred in a low voice. “I have plans tonight, and I will not have you ruin them by being a brute.”

“Fuck you.”

“Spoilers,” the musician trilled, winking as he sipped his wine. The liquid stained his lips red which only made him look even more irresistible.

“I regret introducing you to Doctor Who,” Geralt groaned.

“No you don’t, you love me,” Jaskier giggled.

“You never answered the question,” Geralt reminded him gently, “Candles?”

His soulmate hummed, tongue swiping across his lips, as he tilted his head. Long fingers danced along the rim of his wine glass, and his blue eyes twinkled in the candlelight. All in all, Jaskier looked ethereal, something out of a painting, a fairytale. He even had the name to match, Jaskier, Buttercup, Dandelion. Geralt’s beautiful flower; gorgeous and deadly.

And completely insatiable.

“I thought they were a you thing?” Jaskier asked slowly.

Maybe they were, or maybe they’d ended up in some weird kinky loop through the soulbond… which Geralt had finally admitted existed. There was just no way it was some kind of coincidence. When he was feeling intolerably horny, there was Jaskier lying on his bed at the end of work, dressed in the prettiest stockings and Dandelion’s make-up. When he was feeling in the mood for just a good nature documentary and cuddles, Jaskier would turn up at his door with two onesies and a bag of takeout. They were just in sync, almost every day.

Geralt had never had someone in his life that had understood him like this before and it was completely exhilarating-- terrifying, but exhilarating. His brothers teased him about it relentlessly, and they were both careful about telling people how they really met, but Geralt had never been happier.

Even if he was discovering kinks he never knew he had.

Wax play… really?

“Well, fuck.”

Jaskier frowned, scratching absentmindedly at the scruff that was beginning to grow. He preferred to stay clean shaven for Dandelion, but in between videos he got lazy, and Geralt would be the first to admit it was a good look on his boyfriend. “Did you want to?”

“Yes,” Geralt said, probably far too quickly. “Yes,” he repeated more slowly as he felt his cheeks heat up, “but I don’t know how.”

Jaskier’s hand cupped his cheek, fingers caressing his jaw as they fell away. “I’ve done research. Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Well, that’s a lie. You wouldn’t even let me chop the vegetables,” Jaskier teased.

The memory of Jaskier’s cack-handed attempts at prepping the veg made Geralt shudder. The knives had been blunt and Jaskier had narrowly avoided a trip to A&E. “I trust you,” Geralt said again, grinning at his boyfriend, “just not with things that could kill you.”

“Fire kills,” Jaskier reminded him, “or didn’t my insanely pretty firefighter boyfriend forget?”

“I won’t let the house burn down, Jask.”

His soulmate giggled. “Can you imagine that phone call? ‘Hey, Eskel, It’s Geralt. We almost burnt Jaskier’s flat down playing with candles in the bedroom.’” Jaskier’s tone took on a gruff growl as he mimicked Geralt’s voice.

And that was it. Geralt stood up and pulled his soulmate into a kiss before he could protest, the taste of shitty red wine still on his lips. Jaskier moaned into the kiss, his fingers digging into Geralt’s hips and they both stumbled to the bedroom, dinner promptly forgotten.

In Jaskier’s bedroom were a few candles, plain looking, and yet Geralt felt a whole new wave of arousal. They were actually doing this, and Jaskier had apparently prepared. He was pleased to see a small bucket of water in the corner of the room and the fire blanket from the kitchen. There were times that he forgot that Jaskier and Dandelion the sex worker were the same person. Jaskier was a professional, and he took everything they did very seriously… and Geralt fucking loved him for it. He felt safe when they played like this, and it even gave him the confidence to submit to his soulmate. That hadn’t happened very often before Jaskier.

Geralt squeezed Jaskier’s hand as he pulled him over to the bed, cupping his cheeks as they kissed lazily, neither in any real rush, until Jaskier pulled away. He was smiling softly at Geralt in a way that made his heart flutter, as if there was any doubt how much Geralt loved him.

“Take off your shirt, love,” Jaskier told him, pressing a final kiss to Geralt’s cheek before getting up to fetch the candles. “I ordered a soy candle, it’s meant to be good for beginners. Cooler burn rate, but you will let me know if it hurts too much? We can stop at any time, just say your word,” Jaskier started to ramble, a nervous habit that Geralt found so endearing.

He pulled off his shirt before crossing the room to press his lips to the nape of Jaskier’s neck and his arms wrapped around his boyfriend’s middle. “Stop worrying, Julek.”

“Oh,” Jaskier hummed.

“I trust you,” Geralt reminded him.

“Hmm, I love you,” Jaskier murmured, spinning in Geralt’s arms and capturing his lips in a kiss. “Okay, right, on the bed.”

“Back or front?” Geralt asked, but he already knew the answer. He always seemed to know, but Jaskier liked to verbalise it so Geralt let him, especially as this was a new kind of play for them.

“Front please. Thank you, darling,” Jaskier smiled warmly as he struck a match, the soft golden glow from the flame lighting up his face beautiful, before he lit one of the candles.

Geralt did as he was told, propping himself up on his arms whilst he waited for his soulmate. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift, focusing on the soft melody that Jaskier was humming under his breath. There was a tingle of heat itching under his skin, and he was pretty sure his boxers were a mess in his trousers from the way his cock was aching. He had no doubt he was already leaking, but he did his best to stay still, resisting the urge to rut against the mattress. Jaskier would tell him if he were allowed to do so.

“Oh look at you, absolutely perfect, pretty as a picture,” Jaskier cooed.

His cheeks burnt, and he had to bury his face in his arms. Geralt loved the praise, but he was easily overwhelmed by it, in a good way, mostly. He still struggled to believe that Dandelion, his crush for so long, was now his boyfriend - no - his soulmate, that the videos were and always had been practically made for before either of them knew.

Jaskier pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and he hummed, letting his boyfriend know he was okay, and then Jaskier’s fingers were in his hair, scraping against his scalp. The sensation was nearly too much and he moaned, the sound muffled by his arms. Jaskier chuckled as he pulled Geralt’s hair into what felt like a ribbon, and then Geralt felt his boyfriend’s hands run down the length of his spine.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

They’d barely started and already he felt like his entire body was on fire. He felt heady with arousal and his cock was aching to be touched.

“Ready?” Jaskier asked, his voice sounding as wrecked as Geralt felt.

Geralt just grunted, and then, at Jaskier’s stern silence, mumbled a ‘yes’. He shivered as he felt Jaskier’s breath against his skin, gasping as Jaskier swatted his arse. The room was silent apart from the soft singing of his soulmate, and Geralt could do nothing but wait patiently, or rather impatiently.

Until…

“Cock!” Jaskier spluttered, his words swiftly followed by a resounding thud.

“What the fuck?”

He bolted upright, still feeling a little spaced, but he recognised the smell of carpet burning and it was enough to cut through the fog in his mind. Jaskier was sitting on the floor, legs sprawled and the candle had fallen onto the rug, catching on the synthetic fibres.

“Jaskier!” he growled, snapping his boyfriend from his shock.

“Oh- oh fuck!” Jaskier scrambled for the water bucket.

The fire didn’t last long but the mood was killed. They both just stared at each other across the singed rug, until Jaskier cracked a smile and they burst into laughter. Jaskier couldn’t stop apologising in between fits of giggles, pressing his face into Geralt’s neck to hide his embarrassment. Despite the almost torturous week of wet dreams prior, Geralt could only chuckle as he held his boyfriend close.

They would just have to try again another day.

#the witcher #geraskier #jaskier pankratz #geralt of rivia #geralt/jaskier #wolfie’s witcher writing

[machinegunbun]

Did we ever get the freaky colson fic? Asking for a friend

Yenno what? I’ve been practically starving yall so i think you earned it. Ask (for a friend) and you shall receive. Buckle up kiddos, this ones a doozy.

TW?: Like? everything. everything is a problem here lmao. Just weird. H/A stands for haunted attraction, i had one in mind but it felt disrespectful to mention.

I present to you... The Freaky Fic ™

                                                           ~*~*~

You knew this interviewer had a history of asking personal questions, which meant when you came on you were completely expecting to be asked something or other in regards to you and Colsons sex life, but asking about the freakiest sex you’ve ever had still felt a little forward. You weren’t thirty minutes into what would be an hour-and-forty-three-minute podcast and he was already pulling out what you originally thought to the big guns. Your eyes met Colsons as you silently tried to decide whether or not you should avoid the question.

“I already know what it would be, I'm just not sure we should say.”

“It’s that bad?” The interviewer asks

“Well, it’s more that everyone is gonna say its white people shit. Cause it is.” You took a moment to think about the statement “It wasn’t incest though! Obviously. Just a little weird.”

“What was it?” Colson asked, mind reeling through your personal kama sutra for anything that would stand out as the freakiest. Colson and you were definitely not vanilla, but that was the problem, wasn’t it? When you’ve done so much weird stuff, it’s hard to rank which would be the weirdest.

“The [H/a].” You say, watching as a flash of recognition falls over his face

“Seriously? That’s the worst thing you could think of? Cause I can think of, like, five worse than that, just off the top of my head.”

 “I mean, it’s definitely not the freakiest, but it’s a good story without it being super embarrassing or personal.” Colson nods in agreement, mumbling a small “Right”

“Yeah, go ahead. You can tell it.” He says, turning to face you in his spinny chair.

“Okay, so, I’m very superstitious and, like, paranoid right? I mean, I literally will not sleep in a room that has a mirror facing me. It doesn’t even have to be facing me, it could be facing the wall opposite me, but it has to be covered. I don’t even really trust it when it’s covered, honestly, I prefer it to be face down to the floor. Because mirrors are supposed to be portals to the after life, or whatever, and I remember hearing that if one is facing you while you sleep it’s easier for ghosts to manipulate you. It’s not that I necessarily believe that, or that I think if I slept with a mirror facing me that I’d die or something, but that I respect it. However, I think when places are advertised as haunted they usually aren’t. I mean you see these youtubers go to these places and film all these videos and it’s just- That’s not how hauntings usually are. Ghosts have an ability, to an extent, to manipulate your emotion. Have you ever heard of someone suddenly being overwhelmed by an emotion because they believe a loved one is near? It’s more like that, it’s very spiritual. Being haunted, coming from someone who ghosts seem to love, is nine times out of ten nothing like what Hollywood portrays it to be. It’s not to say that I think every one of these youtubers is lying, I think some of them definitely are, or that they were scared and when you’re scared it’s easy to blow little noises out of the water, but mostly I think it has to do with the places themself.”

Your story was cut off by the interviewer asking a question, 

“Hold on, you aren’t about to make a joke about freaky also meaning spooky, right?”  The interviewer asks

“I mean, you could totally make that joke, but it’s definitely a little kinky. I’m just giving some background.”

“Okay, continue.”

“Where was I? Oh, yes. I think when you go somewhere that is advertised as haunted they are selling you an experience. If you went to the [H/a] and nothing happened, some people would be disappointed by that and would want their money back, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“I think some of these places have audio recordings and mechanised doors, things that they can use to manipulate every room and give you a good scare. This is all theory, by the way, so don’t sue us.”

“You really think it's more plausible that they have a whole control room to scare people and that none of the workers have ever squealed than believe that these places are just… haunted?” The interviewer asked

“I don’t know. Maybe, if they only allowed people with a certain seniority and made them sign an NDA? And if the ones who control it get to give their coworkers a little scare so they come online and say they’ve had their own experiences? Yeah, I think it makes sense, and it's making them money, so why would they stop?”

“Okay, I guess.” He nodded along, entertaining the idea

“But, I also believe that if you talk to ghosts or call on them they will show up, so it’s kinda” you made a scale motion with your hands before continuing.

“Anyway, I went on board with this in mind. We were in our room, cuddled up on the bed and-” you took a moment to recall that night “I don’t remember if we were waiting for something to happen, or if it already had and we were waiting for something else. Anyway, we must’ve gotten bored, because we started making out.”

The crappy old hotel sheets shifted under you as your lips met Colsons, his warm hand reaching over to rest on your lower back. The kiss quickly became heated, your mouths smashing into one another, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip while his hand pulled you closer, your own reaching down to rub his growing bulge.

A short, fast knock came from the wall, breaking both the kiss and the silence.

“Oh, do you like that?” You ask, continuing to massage him through his loose sweatpants. Colson originally thought you had been referring to him, but quickly caught onto the fact that you were addressing the ‘ghost’. 

“Hm, what about this?” You continued, kissing your way down his body, pulling his pants down when you got to them and sliding his tip between your lips. A barely audible creak erupted from the room beside you, the bathroom sink had turned on, a small stream of water pouring aimlessly down into the sink. 

“Does that make you wet?” You ask, sucking one of his balls into your mouth as you stroke him. Colson found the whole act to be a bit odd, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself, so he let you continue. As fucked up as it was, the idea of a third party watching as the two of you were doing your thing was really getting you going. It wouldn’t have been a big deal to some, other than the fact that the supposed third party was a ghost.

“Do you like watching us fuck?” You slid your mouth down the length of his prick, hollowing out your cheeks before coming back up to continue “Tell me what you want me to do to him next.” You offer up, glancing up at Colson who looked equal parts freaked out and turned on.

“You’re crazy. God that’s hot.” He said, throwing his head back while you let out a small laugh. A book slides from the coffee table across the room, falling to the floor and landing on its spine, flipping open to a random page. You weren’t entirely sure what that implied, but the only thing that came to mind was him fucking you on that table. You took a moment to ponder it before deciding if you tried it would break and that you didn’t wanna bother paying the place for a new one.

You began kissing your way back up his body instead, admiring his tattoos as you go. Your lips landed back on his, reaching down to slide the tip of his prick through your folds, gathering your arousal. Stopping the kiss for a moment, you opened your mouth to take a breath. Colson took this opportunity to spit in your mouth, connecting your lips again soon after.

“Think the ghost liked that?” He said, reaching down to grab his hard dick from your hand, teasing your hole. You shrugged, leaning back into the kiss, moving your hips along with his movements. 

After a minute or two of teasing, you swore you felt the bed begin to shake. It started off slow and small, almost as if Colson was shaking under you and it was transferring to the bed, before slowly building to a much more noticeable rumble.

“Oh, I think it wants us to shake the bed.” You say, a smirk playing on your lips, a gasp falling past them as you felt colson slip inside you. You happily obliged, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. You didn’t realise how badly you needed this, you couldn’t help the moans slipping past your lips as you fucked each other as hard as you could manage, trying your best to make sure the bed shook. You were looking down at Colson when suddenly his face disappeared, replaced by impenetrable darkness.

“What the fuck.” The interviewer mentioned, more amused than judgemental “I can't believe you’re telling me this. I can’t believe this isn’t the freakiest shit you’ve ever done.”

“Well, the ghost thing was kind of a joke. I mean, it happened, but it was more about the fact that someone was obviously watching us, or the concept of that.”

“Right, right. You guys like an audience, I see.”

“While it was dark though, I swear I felt a hand slide up the side of my thigh, I know it wasn’t Colsons cause I could-” You cut yourself off “I’m not gonna say how, but I felt both of his hands on me.” 

“Oh shit, forreal? You never told me that part.” Colson said, you gave a small nod in his direction before continuing.

 “But then the lights came back on.”

The lights had only been off for about a minute, small sounds of things moving barely audible over the sounds you two had been making, Colson flipping you over in the dark, pounding away at your hips. When they flicked back on, the room was messy, your eyes scanned the room, falling on the complimentary ouija that sat on the table first. It had fallen out of its box, the lid on the floor next to it. Next, you realized the closet had slid open, it had one of those bendy doors that made it so when you slid it open it bent out towards you, they were called bifold closet doors, if you remembered correctly. 

It was slid halfway open to reveal the empty closet behind it, the only thing adorning the shelf being a couple lone close hangers. As you watched, one looked as if it were smacked off and fell to the floor.

“It wasn’t hot anymore at that point. I didn’t see anything, I think it was my paranoia-- remember when you were a little kid laying in bed and you were like, there is a person crouching beside my bed right now and if I look over the edge at them they will have no more incentive not to kill me?” A silent understanding “It was like that, I don't know how but I know what they look like and I was fully convinced that person was crouching next to us on the bed and if I looked over there I would see him. Because the bed was on the wall, and it’s a big bed, a queen I believe, and colson and I are laying with our head at the foot of it, there was plenty of room to the side of us cause we weren’t exactly in the middle. “Wait, you said that you believed the hauntings were mechanical, so do you think this was a ghost, or a worker?”

“I think it may have been the lady at the front desk, because when we came out she asked us if we were having a good day. I don't know. I don’t think I’ve ever been turned off so fast, I mean at first the idea of a ghost or a worker watching us have sex was hot, but the thought of that… thing being there with us-- That wasn’t hot. We just, kinda, silently put our clothes on and walked out to the lobby. We went back later and got our stuff and checked out early. All I know is it was a dumb fucking idea.”

The day after the interview was released twitter was filled with variations of “If Mgk and his girlfriend wanted an audience they could’ve just asked me.” 

Guess you should’ve expected that one.

#machinegunkelly #machinegunkelly smut #machinegunkelly fic #mgk #mgk smut #mgk fic #machinegunkelly fanfic #machinegunkelly fanfiction #mgk fanfic #mgk fanfiction #colson baker #colson baker smut #colson baker fic #colson baker fanfiction #colson baker fanfic #colson baker x reader #mgk x reader #machinegunkelly x reader

[roger-that-cap]

gold rush

everyone wanted steve rogers. as much as you liked to pretend that “everyone” didn’t include you, it did. but even thinking about being with a person that everyone wanted was more dangerous than everyone else thought, and you seemed to be the only one worrying about it. 

steve rogers x fem!reader

word count: 5k!

warnings(not warnings at all): college!au, blink and you miss him charming!steve, very sweet!steve, meddling!wanda, dumbass!reader, this is a fluff show! have fun because i did! this is probably my last song fic for right now lol

all mistakes are 100% mine!

There was nothing about Steve Rogers that was a turn off, or anything about him that was a red flag. He was helpful and considerate. He took himself and others seriously and had a sense of responsibility. He had a great face and an even greater mind. He had the perfect group of friends and the perfect smile. He was a genuinely kind man. Nothing about him was unappealing.

Besides the fact, of course, that there was nothing about him that was unappealing.

The man was perfect. He was a perfect person who had no visible faults, so that naturally brought everyone to his feet, even if he didn’t want them there. There was no shortage of shameless suitors that wanted Steve, and that was the problem.

You didn’t like that, at all. You were never the type to run after someone just because other people wanted them, and you certainly weren’t the type that wanted to chase someone just for the thrill of it, and to maybe be picked by them. You weren’t someone who wanted to be picked, and you weren’t one who would think that you were special for being the one to be chosen over the absurd amount of people chasing him. And, his perfection frightened you a bit. 

You and Steve hardly knew each other. You had seen him in passing, just as everyone else had seen him. Your absolute best friend and also roommate, Wanda, was close with some really pretty girl named Natasha, who was from Russia. Natasha happened to be close to Steve’s best friend, James—Bucky—Barnes. Which, by extension, meant that Wanda hung out with Steve all the time.

Wanda just so happened to really want to go to a small get together that Steve was having at the bar down the street. She invited you like she did all the time, and like you did all the time in return, you opted out.

“I’m starting to think that the reason you say no all the time is because you’re avoiding someone,” Wanda sang your way, brushing her hair as she stood in her towel and looked at the vanity. “And I’m usually right.”

“Well, not this time. I don’t avoid anyone.” That was a total lie. You avoided Steve Rogers and his little group like they were the plague, and you weren’t planning on stopping any time soon.

“Did one of them say something to you?” Wanda asked, her brow quirked upward. It was unlikely for any of her friends to be anything less than mild mannered and kind, especially to strangers. Wanda was the company she kept, and Wanda was probably the kindest person you knew.

“No, no, that’s not it.” Damn. You cringed at the indirect admittance of there actually being a problem.

“So…?”

She wasn’t going to leave without an answer. You bit your lip before answering, debating on telling the truth or not. Evidently it didn’t matter, because the word vomit did the work for you. “The people that flock around Steve make me sick.”

Wanda didn’t even wait a moment for courtesy. She bent over at the waist, cackling at the words that escaped your mouth. “Y/N, huh? Flock?”

“They literally surround him like he’s some wizard or something, it’s weird!” You defended yourself, not wanting to back down. “He’s nice, but it’s like he’s a flame and they’re all moths. He’s the sheep herder, and they are loyal sheep. Why does everyone want him?” You knew why.

“I don’t.”

You rolled your eyes at her. Of course she wasn’t a t Steve, not when she had her oddly robotic and smart boyfriend that insisted on being called Vision. He was nerdy and sweet, just Wanda’s type. “Yeah, of course not, but I don’t trust something that everyone wants. It’s weird.”

Wanda made a face at you, looking you up and down twice. You almost grimaced when you realized that she was seeing through you. “I’m starting to think that you’re one of them.”

You made a face that told her that she was way off, even though she was far too close for comfort. “Wanda, no. Don’t suggest that ever again, yuck.”

She cocked a brow at you. “So you think Steve is unattractive?”

No. Of course you didn’t. You found Steve very attractive, actually. Everyone knew Steve was attractive, but that was the damn problem! You couldn’t let yourself be drawn into that, not when you had so much work to do. You had been avoiding being stuck to him like a fly to a web since you first saw him, and you weren’t stopping now. It was almost like a game after doing it for so long, and you weren’t going to lose.

“I know you think he’s hot.”

“So?” Wrong thing to say, totally the wrong thing!

You were worried that you were about to get teased until Wanda just looked at you with a look of minimal pity. “Why don’t you talk to him?” You shook your head hastily. “You might have a chance.”

“A chance,” you rolled your eyes. “Why would I want to be chosen to be with someone? Ever thought about the way people fight over his attention like we’re on The Bachelor? Why the hell would I want to be in line behind people for the attention of one person?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Wanda said teasingly, pulling out her blow dryer and politely waiting for your response before starting it.

“I just don’t see why I need to meet him and be enamored by him.” You knew that you would be. Even from afar, you couldn’t help but look at him and his hair, his eyes, his back muscles. Being close to him would be asking for the one thing you had been avoiding for so long.

Wanda gave you a long look, one that reminded you of one that a knowing mother would give her children when she knew how something would play out. You expected to get a lecture from her about judging people, but then she was turning her back to you, looking at you via the mirror. “Hm.” When she realized that you were still looking at her, she gave you a glance and playfully jumped at you. “Finish your newspaper column, nerd.”

§§§

You were in the café, looking like you had just came out of your dorm and like you didn’t want to be seen. You had your arms crossed because the vents were kicking in there like always, and you were shifting from left to right as you daydreamed.

You moved up in the line and looked behind you when you heard the squeaky door opening, not at all expecting to lock eyes with Steve Rogers. He was next to his best friend directly behind you in line. Bucky was whispering right in his ear. Steve’s blue eyes widened once you turned around and saw him already watching you, and then you gave him a sharp nod before turning away and facing forward again.

How did you not hear Bucky Barnes’ loud ass mouth anyway? He was always the first thing you heard when they were coming, and where he was, Steve was. If Bucky was doing things off campus, Steve was sure to be not even ten paces away. If Steve was doing something four states over, Bucky was probably there, too. They both followed each other like they weren’t allowed to be more than a mile apart before combusting. It reminded you of the way you were with your best friend back at home before you left.

You swiped your card when it was your turn, flashed the cashier a thankful smile, and then walked over to an empty table, opening your laptop and clicking away at the keys once you got into the right mindset to start. This week, you were charged with writing a piece about the swim team and their win, and it would be on the front page of the paper if it was good enough. You were going to make it good enough.

Ten minutes in, you noticed someone’s stare right on your face, burning red hot. You stopped typing and looked up, brows already raised at whoever was looking at you. You connected with Steve’s line of sight again, and he fumbled with his drink at the table he was at and looked away quickly, cheeks starting to glow pink. You saw Bucky laugh before rolling your eyes and mumbling under your breath, cracking your fingers and getting back to work.

You felt his gaze a few other times, well aware of it coming and going, and you were handling it just fine until you finally groaned and shut your laptop, putting it in your bag and rolling up your trash. You stomped towards the trash can than happened to be near Steve and Bucky, threw your trash away, and then went out of the double doors of the café.

The second you saw Wanda, you wanted to ask her what Steve’s problem was with you, but she was actually studying when you walked in. Wanda didn’t study unless she was in deep shit, so you just made a nervous face and sat down, quiet as a mouse out of respect your friend.

An hour passed with you just on your phone before Wanda’s textbook shut. She looked up at you, her face slightly exasperated. She blew a piece of hair out of her face and gave you a tight smile. “You wanted to say something when you came in, I can tell.”

“Yeah,” You said, leaning off of your bed a bit. “What’s Steve’s deal?”

She looked confused. “What about him?”

“He won’t stop looking at me,” You said with disdain, hating the way that your voice was bordering on being a whine. “I couldn’t even write anything good because he was staring holes in me.”

“Well, did you talk to him?”

You made a face. “Why the hell would I have done that?”

“So you wouldn’t have to rely on me telling you the answer to something I don’t know,” She pointed out, and you had to stop yourself from nodding. “Steve’s a really sweet guy. Just talk to him the next time you see him.”

“That would be the opposite of avoiding.” When Wanda made a face that said duh, you rolled your eyes. “And that’s what I do. Avoid.”

“Well, don’t avoid him. It’s mean, and… he thinks you’re… cool.” You couldn’t deny the way that your heart skipped a beat at him thinking about you positively, even if it was a lame adjective like cool.

But, you still hoped that you didn’t see him any time soon. You were certain that he was staring because you weren’t all dressed up and because you looked like trash in a common area, not because he thought you were cool. It wasn’t even that you thought that you weren’t cool, it was just that you definitely weren’t his type of cool.

“He thinks I’m cool?” You repeated slowly, and Wanda blushed a bit as you subtly mocked her. “Did he tell you this?”

She made a noise that meant exactly what she said next. “Not exactly.”

“Hm.” You turned your back to her, gathering papers from a binder and trying to forget about everything that had Steve involved.

“Look. You should just talk to him, it’ll be fun. You might even make a new friend around here.”

“Who needs another friend when I’ve got you?” You asked somewhat sarcastically, but both of you knew that you meant it. Wanda was the best friend anyone could ever ask for. She was protective, kind, understanding, and she could match anyone’s energy.

“Fine. The next time I see him, I’ll talk to him.” You knew that this was most likely a lie, but you had to say something to get Wanda off your back.

§§§

You were reading at the library intently, heavily immersed in the world of fantasy instead of the world of old authors who were already long gone. You had gone for an English assignment, but the Young Adult isle called your name, and it called it loudly. Your book was on the table as you leaned over it and scanned with your eyes, your mind long gone from reality.

“Is the book good?”

You nearly jumped out of your chair at the male voice behind you, and you sighed before turning around to see who it was. “It’s phenomenal,” you drawled, annoyed by the interruption.

Steve Rogers was standing right there in front of you, with his stupid, gorgeous smile and his naturally kind and inquiring yet never pushing eyes. He was standing in front of your sitting form, arms crossed but looking quite the opposite of hostile or standoffish. His hair was perfectly styled despite the way that he was dressed down, the way a college student typically dressed to go read a book at the library that was filled with peers that didn’t give a damn about anything but passing.

“What’s it about?”

Why were you talking to him? Why was he talking to you? It made no sense. He had no reason to approach you with all of his faultlessness, especially not while you were doing something that he no doubt found boring. Why was he even in the library?

You refused to be dumbstruck by him so many times, but there you were. “I- Yep.”

It was his turn to be confused. “It’s called “yep”?”

“Nope.” When you realized that he was actually asking a question that had an open ended answer, you shook her head from the cobwebs of nervousness. “It’s about two girls that fall in love during an apocalypse.”

You applauded yourself for getting out more than ten words in your stupor, and then frowned when you saw him walk around the table that was empty save for you and your things.

“Nice,” He said, and to your complete displeasure, he sat down at the chair right across from you, his kind smile never leaving his face. “Can we talk?” So that meant that he wanted to actually talk to you, not just small talk. Which meant that he had most likely looked for you.

“How’d you find me?” You cursed yourself for your lack of tact.

“You’re usually in the same three places.” It was true. You were either in the library, the café, or in your dorm. “I picked the lucky guess my first time.”

“Uh,” you couldn’t form a correct sentence. “Yeah. What’s up?” You were about to kick yourself.

“I just wanted to make sure that I haven’t done anything to you.” When you furrowed your brows, he dropped the smile and sent you a sincere look that melted your heart. “Wanda told me that you didn’t like me much, but I don’t remember formally meeting you. Have I done something that I don’t remember?”

Was he really asking that? Did he truly care about what a girl he had never had a full conversation with thought about him? And why did you feel like it was more than him just caring about the image that everyone in the small school had assigned to him?

How were you even supposed to answer him? He looked genuinely troubled by the way you had been avoiding him and what you said to Wanda. His concern almost made you go wild. “No. You didn’t do anything. It’s not you.” You scrambled with your book as you stood up fast enough to startle him. “Sorry. Gotta go.” You ran to the check out and checked out the book that you were reading, regretting leaving Steve there with every step you took.

He was too perfect.

§§§

“So don’t be mad, but I got you a date.”

Your head jumped up from your laptop. “What?”

“Yeah, I totally got you a date.” Wanda looked genuinely proud of herself, completely ignoring your horrified expression. “You get to pick the place and time.”

“Um, Neverland and at twenty- five o’clock,” you started, saving your work and closing your laptop. “Wanda, you can’t just get me a random date.”

“It’s not as random as you think.”

“You didn’t ask me,” you countered, giving her a pleading look. “Please cancel it.”

She winced. “About that. Uh, I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I said that you agreed. It took him a minute to believe me, but he said that he was excited.”

“I- why?” You stuttered, shaking your head. “I don’t like dates, Wands.”

“You’ll love this one. It’s basically like build your own date!”

“Yeah, I can choose everything but the person,” you scoffed, going to open your laptop again and sighing. “Please cancel it.”

“What if I told you that this person has had their eye on you for a long time?” Wanda’s words had your hand stopping right where they were. You hated that her words made you curious. She saw that you took the bait. “And has been trying to talk to you?”

You frowned at that. There was no one on the entire campus that was trying to talk to you, so now you knew it was horseshit. “No one tries to talk to me, I’m always in here. On purpose.”

“This guy has,” she insisted, her voice bearing desperate. “Please. He’s really nervous and he just wants to get it right this time.”

Nervous? You were making someone nervous? You were almost embarrassed with how flattered you got at that. “Wait, this time?”

“Yes,” Wanda breathed out. “He’s tried before.”

You went through your memories for a man on campus that tried to slide on you for a few seconds, and Wanda waited patiently. You couldn’t think of a damn one. “I don’t think so, Wanda. I don’t date people on campus. Or at all right now, honestly.”

“No,” Wanda dragged out dramatically, still not giving up. “Please, please, please! When have I ever steered you wrong?”

She was right, dammit. In every instance that Wanda forced you to do something extremely out of your comfort zone, you ended up loving whatever it was. She had you try food from a dirty gas station, something you’ve always been skeptical of, but damn, if that fried fish wasn’t amazing. She made you try a painting class where you drank wine at the same time, and you were afraid that you weren’t going to paint well enough. You ended up getting a membership at the place. She made you try salsa dancing. She made you try a Russian beer that nearly knocked you out of commission, but you still liked it.

There were many other things that Wanda made you try, but she was right. You never disliked what she had forced you to do, and she always forced your hand out of love. She had never steered you wrong once. That thought was made your scale of doubt tip.

“I- can I at least know his name before I go?”

She squealed.

§§§

You were not allowed to know his name, apparently. Not even on the day of the date. It was all a part of the mystery that Wanda set up for you, and she claimed that knowing who it was would spoil the entire thing. Because you were secretly so excited about going to find out who it was that had asked Wanda about you, you asked for the date to be sooner than later.

You were nervous, though. You hadn’t been on a date since high school, and that was just to the movies. You held the girl’s sweaty hand for two hours and kissed in her car until your mom told you that you had to come home. To make it even worse, you weren’t out yet, so you had to pretend that the girl who drove you home was just a friend.

You told Wanda that you wanted to meet the mystery man at a coffee shop. In your head, it was the perfect place. It was a place that you could leave early if the date was horrific, and a place where you could extend it if it—by the grace of God—went well. It also called for casual wear, and you believed that you could tell a lot about someone by their coffee order.

You didn’t even drink coffee. You drank hot chocolate.

It was the day of the date, and it was kind of cold outside. You grabbed a yellow sweater that was near the color gold and some jeans and cute boots, and made an outfit out of it. You were in the middle of leaving when Wanda was entering.

“Ah, you’re leaving!” She clapped her hands twice. “I can’t believe it. Thank you so much for agreeing to go.”

“You know, if this bombs, you’re gonna have a negative one on your record,” you teased, grabbing your small black purse and giving her a look.

“Negative one? Please. It’ll knock me down to like a fifty nine, if anything. But it won’t, because I know it’ll be great.”

“I hope so.” You were on your way out when Wanda called your name again, a hesitant look on her face.

“Just, give him a chance, alright?”

You stared at her for a few seconds. You knew she would never set you up with anyone bad, but that sentence made you hesitate. “Thirty minutes.”

A small smile grew on her face, like she knew that it was enough time. “Thirty minutes.”

It was a little colder than you thought outside, and it wasn’t even dark yet. You cursed yourself as you walked to the coffee shop, wishing you had brought the scarf that matched your sweater. You breathed out and watched your breath turn into smoke, a smile on your face as you pulled the door open and walked into the warmth of the coffee shop.

Everyone there was on their phones or laptops, working diligently. You assumed that he wasn’t there yet and sat down at a back table, so that whoever came close would be the one. You wouldn’t have to look up pathetically every time a person walked past you, and you grinned at the thought and tapped your temple, thinking in your head, smart bitch.

A few minutes passed in the quiet shop while you tapped away on your phone, playing a painting by numbers game that you were obsessed with, and that you had gotten Wanda obsessed with. You were thinking about hot chocolate while you finished coloring in the intricate flower. The chimes of the door went off, twinkling straight out of a fairy tale, and you looked up briefly.

Steve Rogers was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking around the shop nervously until he looked you right in the eyes. You held your breath. No way.

And then he took a step forward.

You kept your breathing as leveled as possible as he approached, walking past everyone else to stand near the table that you were at, eyeing the chair. When you said nothing, a pink flush worked up to his cheeks. “Can I sit?”

You were out of words. All the reading and writing you did was suddenly useless as you stared at him in complete and utter shock, finally closing your mouth again as you grappled for something to say that wouldn’t make you embarrass yourself.

“Yeah, of course.” The words left your mouth and he quietly pulled the chair out, sitting down rather sheepishly right in front of you. You swallowed at seeing him up close again. “Wow.”

“I know the whole one sided blind date thing was weird,” he blurted, some of his words a little rushed as he spoke. “But Wanda and I thought that you were most likely to show up if you didn’t know it was me.”

“Why?”

He took a second before answering. “I don’t think you like me very much,” he admitted quietly, a disheartened look on his face. “I don’t know what I did, but I want to fix it.”

So was this a date or an intervention for your own unstable feelings towards him? “I don’t dislike you.”

“You don’t?”

“No, you’re just…” you prayed that you wouldn’t use a word that was stupid when you stopped to think. “You’re very perfect.” You blurted, and when you saw the slightly startled look on his face, you tried to backpedal. “Not in a weird way. You’re just very um, the opposite of me, and everyone wants you. It’s kind of discouraging.”

“Discouraging?” He repeated, a confused look on his face as he tried to understand your babbling.

“There’s just-” you weren’t going to admit a thing until you heard what you needed to from him. “Wait did you ask me to come here because you wanted to clear the air, or…”

He cleared his throat. “I wanted you to come here because I think you’re cool.” You couldn’t help but laugh. So, he had said that. You smiled at him, a smart retort on the tip of your tongue, holding back the fact that you thought he was pretty cool, too.

But he kept going. “Yeah, I think you’re cool, and that your smile is gorgeous, but I also think that you’re incredibly smart. I like the articles that you write for the paper and that you’re really good with words. I think it’s nice that you tutor people for free around campus even though you could charge a lot. I think it’s cool that you didn’t rat Bucky out about the graffiti even though you saw him do it. I think you’re pretty awesome, and I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while now,” He admitted, talking even though your jaw dropped.

You couldn’t believe it. You physically could not believe it. Steve Rogers, the apple of everyone’s eye and honestly the one and only of yours (no matter how much you previously denied it) just gave you more compliments in thirty seconds than you gave yourself all year.

You supposed it was your turn to talk. “I thought you were looking at me because you didn’t like me,” was all you could say, forgetting all about your craving for hot chocolate.

He looked mildly appalled? “No, not at all. It’s just… I always wanted to talk to you, but you’re always so focused, and I didn’t want to ruin it. I felt wrong every time I came up to you.”

The golden boy of the university really liked you? It was too perfect. It was impossible. But apparently it wasn’t. Your heart was nearly beating out of your chest as you registered it all, and then one thought was in your head as you cracked a smile. Screw you, Maximoff.

“Steve I… honestly, you intimidate me.” He frowned. “You’re so- I guess I can admit this now that you said all of that, but you’re perfect. It scared me, and it kind of still does.”

“I have flaws,” he disagreed lightly, tapping his fingers on the table.

“What’s that?”

“I have really bad social anxiety-”

You gasped. “Liar,” when he looked at you like he was offended, you grimaced. “I’m not calling you a liar, I’m basically just saying no way, me too.” He brightened up.

“Really?”

“Why do you think I only go like three places on campus?”

He looked around the coffee shop with a small smile on his face and then looked back to you. “Make that four,”

“Make that four.” You repeated, smiling at him softly. You took a look at your surroundings and noticed that you still hadn’t gotten your drink yet. “Oh, yeah. What kind do you like?”

He grimaced a bit, looking at you from across the table with his pretty, blue eyes. “It’s um, it’s kind of embarrassing.”

You shrugged. “Don’t be embarrassed, I just get hot chocolate.” He leaned forward with a smile and lifted brows, sincerely excited about what she said.

“Me too.”

The rest of the date was nothing short of amazing. They drank two hot chocolates each, he paid for the first, and she the second (even after all of his insisting that he would rather pay). You talked about anything and everything, and you realized that Steve Rogers was actually really smart. He wasn’t as book smart as you were, but he knew a little about everything, and he was apparently a jack of all trades (but he didn't want to admit it, because he hated bragging).

He was nothing short of perfect. The good kind.

You extended the date to about three hours, and when you finally had to head home, it felt like three minutes in his warm presence. He opened the door for you, and you were slammed by the cold.

“Damn,” You breathed out, and he immediately shrugged out of his brown leather jacket and put it on your shoulders. You looked at him incredulously, trying to hide your surprise and the butterflies in your stomach with a question. “You’re not cold?”

He grinned at you. “I don’t really get cold much.” You slowly shrugged into it, and you melted at the warmth.

You walked together to your dorms, picking up conversation from the coffee shop. You couldn’t get over that it was all so natural. It felt so right and so easy to talk to him after that first awkward hump that you two had placed yourselves. It felt like you just, linked, all of a sudden. You adored it. You could see that Steve did, too.

He was standing in front of your door with you when you finally stopped talking, slight disappointment coming when you realized that this was it for the night. Maybe for forever. What if it hadn’t gone as well as you thought it had? Would he want to do this again? You sure did, after all that resistance.

You shrugged his jacket off, but only got halfway when he held his hand out, smiling down softly at you. “No, keep it.”

You felt the whole zoo come out and into your stomach. “A-are you sure?”

“Mhm,” He said, an innocent grin that you were coming to love way too fast on his face. “You look cute.”

Your head shot down as you felt yourself get flustered. “Thanks,” you murmured quietly, smiling again when you heard his hearty laugh. You looked back up at him. “Thank you, for tonight. Thank you for asking.”

“Thank you for agreeing,” he countered, soft voice somehow still echoing in the halls. “I don’t think I’ve ever been on a date like this.”

“I know I haven’t.” And then, he did what would have made your heart stop, if it would stop beating so fast in the first place.

He took your hand in his and brought it up to his mouth, kissing the back of your palm gently, a fleeting touch that was just enough to make your brain have a malfunction. You swore that you saw a smirk on his face for the smallest of moments, and then he was stepping back with his typical smile. You loved that smile, now.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“G-goodnight!” You replied a little too loudly, causing him to laugh again. You did too. “Goodnight,” You repeated, this time in an exaggerated whisper as you unlocked your door and let yourself in, casting a glance at him one more time before shutting the door behind you.

Wanda’s reaction was immediate, and expected. “Oh my god, you’re wearing his jacket!”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfic #steve rogers x you #my fics #marvel au #college!au #steve rogers fluff

[saltymiraculer]

Ceremonial Kisses (Part 1 of 3)

Part 2

So I decided to try my hand at the “Marinette, the princess of China” trope and see how I did! Tell me what you think?

Also, the first chapter is going to be fluffy, the second chapter’ll have a sprinkling of salt, and the third chapter will be a mix of piles and piles of salt and some fluff. Be warned!

.

“I’ve got a big, big, big announcement for you today, class!“ Bustier chirped, clapping her hands to get their attention. “China’s princess will be coronated in a week and a half, the day she turns 18, as many of you know, and one class from the school will be selected to travel to China and watch the ceremony. Guess which class it was?“

“Uhhh…Mme. Mendeleiev’s!“

“Ooh, M. D’Argencourt’s? They’ve wanted that trip for weeks!“

“No, class, it’s ours! In three days, we’ll board the plane to Asia and have a few days to sightsee and explore, then attend the coronation on the second-to-last day!“

“Wow! Why our class?“ Kim asked.

Marinette knew exactly why. Marc had told her that the entire school was sick of Lila’s lies and wanted to enjoy the coronation without her butting in in the middle of the assembly to tell a ‘story’ about herself.

But she couldn’t just say that.

“You know, I actually know the princess,“ Lila said, immediately drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “But her identity is being kept a secret for now. That’s how we landed the trip!“

“Wow, Lila!“

“That’s amazing!“

“So cool of you.“

“They know that’s stupid, right?“ Alya stage-whispered, earning a glare from Lila’s new puppy–more commonly known as Kim. She shrugged. “I’m just tellin’ the truth!“

Alya, who was now her only other supporter next to Nino (and technically Adrien, but she’d discuss that later–it was very complicated), had decided to Google Lila’s name during a sleepover and found…some rather incriminating Facebook posts.

After that, she was 100% team Marinette and an amazing friend, along with Nino, who had decided that he needed a theme song. No one knew why.

But they loved him anyways!

So while Bustier was rattling off facts about Chinese emperors and kings and queens, Nino was showing them his latest idea to expose Lila.

“Okay,“ he started. “First, we go to China. Then we do our sightseeing and shit, and then. I did some research, and we can ask the princess questions if we’re with a national news channel. Alya’s blog counts. For real, we can talk to the princess of China. And we ask her if she knows Lila.“

“Brilliant plan, Nino. I wonder how the princess will react to a few teenagers in the middle of a crowd of famous people.“

Nino frowned. “The princess is only, like, 17. She’ll probably notice us, Als.”

“Oh, that reminds me, your birthday’s on the same day as the coronation, Marinette! Weird, isn’t it? That you and the princess have the same birthday?“ Alya asked, pulling out her phone and swiping through something.

“Huh, yeah. You’re right. Maybe we can invite her to my birthday party?“

“Ooh, the wiki page says she likes custard buns, and I’m not sure how they know that,“ Nino chuckled. “but make sure to stock up on those.“

“Noted,“ Marinette said drily as Bustier turned to them with a condemning look on her face. “Alya! I hope what you’re doing on that phone relates to the lesson!“

“China’s princess’s identity is being kept a secret because the last two were sent death threats, dangerous items, highly innapropriate items, and several other things that prompted them to not reveal the princess until it was necessary.“

“C-correct, Alya. Good job.“

“Nice!“ Marinette mouthed, high-fiving Alya, who flipped her phone around to reveal a website about the princess.

                                                           -🌸-

The final bell rang as several of the students cheered. One school day until the trip over, three more to go. Alya swung her bag over her shoulder and bumped Marinette’s elbow. “We goin’ to your place to hang out?”

“Yeah, my dad’s out anyways and mom closed the bakery for the afternoon. let’s go!“ Alya took Nino’s hand and walked the short distance to Marinette’s house. They entered and immediately felt something off.

Ah, there it was.

Sabine was leaning over the counter with a cup of very strong-smelling peppermint tea beside her. She was rubbing her temples and muttering to herself in rapid Mandarin.

“Maman? Are you alright?“ Marinette asked worriedly. Alya and Nino stood by the door–they had only seen her like this once before, when her cousin had been run over and killed.

“Yes, dear, everything’s okay, it’s just–there’s something I need to tell you.“

“Oh, no, did something happen to someone?“

“No, no, everyone’s just fine. I can’t not tell you without there being serious problems.“

“So what is it? What’s so important you had to close the bakery?“

“You’re the princess. China’s princess. The one nobody knows about.“

“I’m what?!“ Marinette screeched, grabbing at her hair. “I’m the heir to the throne of the most populated country in the world, and you waited until a week before the coronation to tell me?!“

“Holy shit.“ Alya and Nino said simultaneously. Sabine stared at them, likely just realizing they were there.

“Oh. They know now, too. Perfect, that’s just what we need, a reporter knowing who–“

“Maman! Alya wouldn’t tell a soul, I know she wouldn’t.“

Sabine turned to Alya. “I’m sorry, dear, I’m just stressed. With that trip to China in a few days and all that, we’ll have to close down the bakery for about a week.”

“And we never close down the bakery.“ Marinette finished, putting a steady hand on her mom’s shoulder. “But I know just the person to run it while we’re gone.“

As she was about to say who exactly would run the bakery, Nino backed into the door, wide-eyed.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. My best friend…holy shit.“

“Nino, I know this is a lot, but we’ll have to stay calm,“ Alya said, grabbing his hand. “So we don’t spill her secret. That’s top priority, all right? Don’t–tell–anyone.“

Nino sighed. “Sorry, babe. This…“ he turned to Marinette. “Do you have any cookies?“

Marinette grinned and led them into the kitchen. “Of course! Chocolate chunk or raspberry frosted?“

“Raspberry, all the way!“

“There’s the Nino I know!“

After a quick cookie interval, Marinette pushed her plate away and sighed. “Anyone up for an impromptu sleepover? You all left a bunch of your clothes here the last few times.”

“Marinette. If you know us, you will know our answers.“ Alya said solemnly.

“Hell yeah. Wanna go choose which terrible rom-com to watch this time?“

They ended up settling on The Kissing Booth, one of Marinette’s personal favorites (”To lighten the tension, you know?” Alya had said. “Although the tension in here probably weighs the same as an obese hippopotamus at this point.”) and made a bowl of caramel popcorn, with a tiny bag of sea-salt Skinny Pop for Nino.

“Sugar on popcorn is a crime, man. I ain’t touching that.“

“You’ve tried it once, Nino.“

“Yes, and I hated it. Is there anything else to be said?“

So they spent the next two hours in a blanket fort that was made almost entirely of throw pillows laughing over Elle and Noah and Lee being idiots, with a few highlights such as the iconic “Ninth grade skirt, eleventh grade body” scene, where Alya snorted and said “You know, Lila’s skipped so much school, might as well be ninth grade brain, eleventh grade work.”

“Too true,“ Nino agreed. “The other day, she called Chloe’s mom Aurora Bourgeois. That was a pretty major mess-up.”

“Shhh! Let’s just watch the movie!“ Marinette said, effectively quieting them down.

They watched the rest in silence with the usual laughs., ending up falling asleep halfway through the second movie, snuggled up on their respective couches. Marinette mother shook them awake the next morning, telling them to take showers and eat breakfast and get dressed and for god’s sake, Marinette, finish your homework.

“Crap, crap, crapcrapcrap! Nino, we’re going to be late if we don’t get ready fast!“ Alya shouted as Marinette ran up the stairs to change. “Can I use your shower, M?“

“Sure!“ was the muffled reply.

After about 10 minutes of running around and shoving waffles in their mouths, they grabbed their bags and ran off to school.

They burst through the door in the nick of time, the bell ringing just as they plunked down their things.

Bustier wasn’t there five minutes into the class, so they started talking.

“Marinette, you have to listen to Nino’s latest track, it’s–“ Just as she was about to describe Nino’s latest track, a bouncy-ball the size of a walrus snashed through the wall, nearly taking off Kim’s head.

There was a cackle from outside. “I am Gradack! You will all feel the same sorrow that I did!“

                                                          -🌸-

The fight was over relatively fast, and everything was calmed down and restored before their next class. Turns out Chat Noir didn’t show, so Marinette had to ask Alya for assistance.

In hindsight, she probably should have picked a better place to transform.

“Tikki, spots on!“ After she transformed, she was about to go to Fu to get one of the Miraculous, when she heard a strangled gasp.

“…shit.“

“My best friend is the princess of goddamn China and Ladybug? What the fuck?! Who are you? How did I not know? When did–“

“Alya, I know the feeling, but you can’t tell anyone. Got it?“

“Nino?“

“Well,“ Marinette paused to think. “Yeah, I guess. I trust him enough. Now, take this and transform!“ she tossed Alya the hexagonal box, and after a quick transformation, they ran off to defeat the saddened graduate of an akuma.

As she said, it was an easy fight.

They comforted the victim with four minutes (each) to spare, then ran back to the locker rooms to transform back.

                                                   Time Skip!

It was the morning of the flight to China, and she was ecstatic. Of course, she had to get up at 3:45 in the morning, but it was worth it–the flight took off at six in the morning, of course.

She could see the logic of wanting to arrive at 12:00, but she would’ve much preferred a red-eye.

Then she wouldn’t have had to stay up all night reading, because no way in hell would she just wake up at 3:45 in the morning.

The alarm would’ve had to go off for hours.

But back to the morning, she poured herself a sasquatch-sized mug of coffee, with about a gallon of cream and enough sugar to put an entire city of diabetics into shock, she started getting dressed.

Trudging around and haphazardly pulling out shirts, she finally decided on a simple red-and-orange flannel, a white t-shirt, and a pair of cropped jeans.

The she downed the rest of her coffee with an apathetic “Bottoms up!” and slapped her cheeks.

She grapped her suitcase and walked outside to where her mother was typing away on a laptop in the pitch-black night.

“Mom, why are you up?“

“Because I have to drive you to the airport, that’s why. And no alarm would be able to wake me up at 3 in the morning.“

“Preach. I’m ready to go, so can we get in the car now?“

After driving to the airport and saying goodbye to her mom, she walked into the airport and immediately saw the group of sleepy teens (and a certain disheveled teacher) leaning on their suitcases, trying not to fall asleep.

Nino and Marinette were already there, their eyelids drooping. The only person who looked properly awake was Sabrina, who was–inevitably–holding a saucer out to Chloé, who was sipping from a teacup.

Alya rolled her eyes and walked over to Marinette and Nino. “Who’re we missing?”

“Kim and Rose. They’re carpooling, so they should be here any minute.“

Just as Marinette had said, a few seconds later, Rose and Kim walked into the airport. Kim was still wearing pajama pants.

                                           Another Time Skip!

“Marinette.“ Alya groaned, shaking Marinette’s shoulders. “Marinette, wake up, we’re here.“

Marinette’s eyes fluttered open. “No. Five more minutes.”

“Everyone else is already off the plane!“

“Shit. Let’s go!“ Marinette said, jumping up, grabbing her purse (which she had recently learned concealed a kwami) and scrambling out the door.

Alya picked up the mini-backpack she now carried (which held Trixx, cookies, and some grape jelly) and followed her out the door.

Almost as soon as they stepped off the plane, they heard a loud wail.

“Great. She’s back on her bullshit.“

“I just can’t believe she would steal that, Lila! It’s so unlike her!“

“M-maybe, but there’s p-proof! Look!“

“Oh, great, what did we do this time?“ Alya asked exasperatedly. They watched as Lila held out the remains of–from what they could see from a meter away–a sketch of an orange mermaid gown with a black lace collar, ripped into quarters and laid out on the ground.

Marinette gasped beside her.

“That’s your dress, isn’t it?“

A small tear made its way down Marinette’s face. “It was going to be for you,” she said softly.

Alya threw her arms around Marinette and rubbed her shoulders. “It’s okay, sweetie. Once you’re princess, we’ll sue her for all she’s worth.”

Marinette detached herself from Alya and wiped her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Alya.”

                                                         -🌸-

Nino stormed up to where Alya and Marinette were standing with a furious expression on his face.

“That fox,“ he seethed. “that bitchy little fox of a liar stole your drawing.“

Marinette chuckled wetly. “Yeah, we know.“

“Are you okay? I know how important they are to you.“

“I’m fine, Nino, and o–who the hell are you?“ A man in an oddly formal suit was standing next to her, holding out a small red envelope.

Marinette plucked the envelope from his fingers, opened it, and read the contents. She looked up and nodded at the suit-wearing guy.

“Good. In that case, Miss Dupain-Cheng, I’m going to need you to come with me.“ Alya and Nino immediately stepped in front of her in a protective shield.

“She’s not in trouble, is she?“

The strange man looked surprisingly amused. “Not at all–but you might want to come with us, too. You as well, headphone-boy.”

Nino put a hand on his chest and gasped in offense.

“Nino. He’s going to drive us to the palace. You’re coming, too, ya doof!“ Nino made a noise of realization and followed them out to where a black limousine was waiting.

They climbed in and drove off.

About five minutes into the drive, he moved his foot to the side, accidentally kicking a black box.

Just as he was preparing his final goodbyes, it sprung open, and inside was a junk food lover’s heaven.

“Dude.“

#ml #ml salt #ml salt fic #marinette dupain cheng #marinette deserves better #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #alya sugar #nino sugar #lila rossi #lila salt #lila bashing #adrien agreste #adrien salt #adrien bashing #marinette the princess of china #WHY ARE YOU READING THE TAGS

[whump-town]

Lie to Me

Chapter Two

Warnings:

Chapter One

It’s not as bad as it looks.

Derek Morgan stands in place, his right hand coated in a drying layer of the foaming pink blood Hotch had choked up. He’s staring ahead, eyes growing an unfocused haze as his body and mind struggle to keep pace with all that’s just happened. No nurse has stepped in to remove him, medical staff simply navigate around him. It’s violating, it feels like he’s being given a front-row seat to a trauma no one’s supposed to witness. Unmoving, he’s unable to look away. Tears start to cloud his vision but someone has to stay. Someone has to see.

The catheter that they use to suction his mouth is clear. The tubing long and spirally, the room’s occupants able to see the sea foam blood leaving Hotch’s lungs. He’s sat up on the stretcher, shirt cut-off in a long simple swipe. Left to be packed into a bag, the once white fabric speckled in pink. There’s a cloth against the upper section of his chest, catching drool and blood that the doctors miss with the tube hunting the corners of his mouth. Hotch heaves, producing nothing from his empty stomach than acid and thin, soft pink spit. He twists away from the catheter, sucking in wet wheezing breathes. Sounds like he’s breathing through a straw, waterlogged and thick.

A nurse directs Derek closer to the bed with a hand on his bicep, her kind words of encouragement going over his head as he pulls his shell-shocked body closer to Hotch’s. That whispered, useless comment bursting through the space between them. It’s not as bad as it looks. Derek finds that incredibly hard to believe, no matter how neatly they wipe Hotch’s mouth and rid the space of blood-tinged rags.

He’d sat in the ambulance for ten minutes listening to Hotch choke on blood. Heard the EMTs warning the hospital about a pulmonary aspiration, watched them debate intubating Hotch while he was still conscious enough to writhe on the stretcher. Trying to pull his body away from the steady hands placing an IV, to sit up and get away from them. Derek could do nothing, had been forced to

It’s not as bad as it looks. He’s assured, taking the thin, uncushioned chair at Hotch’s side. Close enough now to see the pink of Hotch’s dried blood on the side of his cheek. To hear the wheezing breathes he’s taking, quick and shallow. His eyes dart underneath his eyelids, fingers jerking as he struggles to find comfort trapped between awareness and the bliss of unconsciousness.

One week after his diagnosis he had a panic attack. Not the sort he could hide, as he’d hidden many, but suddenly just the full force of his life hitting him centerfold and buckling his knees from underneath him. Jessica had Jack in the kitchen, the two of them laughing as she made fun of his inability to cook. Jack eagerly agreeing, lacing light accommodations in their mix to make him the butt of their joke. Thoughtful and grounding. He listened to his son try and recount at least one meal he hadn’t ruined by burning it. He’s gotten way better at cooking but for a few months, they survived off of chicken nuggets, macaroni and cheese (that he could never get the shells to soften entirely), and frozen vegetables. Off of the kindness (and off fear) of Dave and Penelope bringing pre-cooked meals over. Things he could keep in the freezer and just stick in the over.

He’d tilted his head back against the wall, laced his fingers through the strands of the carpet, and held on. Tried to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. Listened to Jack sticking up for him, “it wasn’t that bad” Jack pouts. And he’d managed a shallow smile, still choking on punched breathes leaving his parted lips. He’s Haley’s son, through and through. The only people who have ever stuck up for him -- even in the face of his awful cooking. Jessica found him on the floor twenty minutes later. Old tears drying on his face and new ones still dripping down from his eyelashes. He told her the truth when she asked what was wrong, took his burden, and brought her down with him. He held her as she cried into his shoulder and then he cried when she asked him to stay, not to leave her. She’s so tired of losing her family and he cracks a smile, thinks an awful little stabbing joke about how he’s the reason she’s lost her family. Haley. Her mother to a heart attack three months after Haley died. Now him, his own body betraying him.

It’s not that bad, he promises but all he can think about is his father. Lung cancer at fifty-three and dead by fifty-four. He’s only fifty but he’s still repeating the story.

We’ll do it together, she assures him but he’s already made sure that’s not an option.

“He’s so cold,” JJ whispers. She’s the only person who can stand to get close enough, who can penetrate the heavy sickness in the room to take his hand. To hold his stiff, cold fingers between her own. She looks over her shoulder, expecting someone to say something but finds them all in the distance. Unable to fully enter the room. Pressed to the walls. Eyes counting the tiles on the floor and making up the ceiling. JJ frowns sadly at them, not surprised but disheartened. She warms his hand between her own, trying to rub warmth back into the cold digits.

Jessica comes into the room, a storm of movement and noise that throws the silent contemplation of the room off. She looks around herself, frowning at the collection of them before rolling her eyes. She knows of the team intimately. For years she’s been listening to Aaron come home and talk about them and she’s grown to know them by means of her own exchanges as Jack gets older. They’re Aaron’s family and Jack’s other aunts and uncles, naturally she’s interested in them. That isn’t to say she isn’t annoyed with them. For the willing ignorance in Aaron’s rapid health decline. In the ways that they chose to appease Aaron rather than help him, can’t they see how much it is to make him happy with their ignorance rather than annoyed with their care?

“Derek,” she’s moving things around the room. They’ll be here for a while. His oxygen saturation is too low and his breathing is causing some mild concern that he might develop aspiration pneumonia. With his temperature still low he might be safe but even then they’re things are not magically better. “Will you please get his heated blanket out of that--” she points to the bag and nods when he goes to the right one. “Thank you.”

She takes control of the room, of the movements they make. Who stays when and who goes where.

He’s sleeping, probably will be for a while.

Around the third week of chemo, he started to understand the doctor’s warnings about fatigue. That, yeah, he might feel okay now and maybe he will continue to feel good for several more weeks but it’s going to catch up, and when it does he needs to be ready to ask for help. His current workload is by no means healthy and hardly sustainable for a healthy person, he’s going to have to make adjustments.

He’d started to feel the fatigue but not creeping in as he’d thought. One Wednesday morning he woke up feeling like he’d gone out drinking the night before. The sort of night Emily’s in charge of, where he wakes up in weird clothes with a haircut Emily gave him in the bathroom. It’s Wednesday, though, and his hair is intact. An awful headache and no amount of sleep were able to bring him to life.

His hours at the office got smaller, falling asleep at the desk and on the couch. He leaned to the explanation that he was just getting older. One sly comment about the grey creeping into his hairline spread unevenly and no longer contained to his temples, and he knew they were using the same safe answer. Making the journey from his office for coffee became a mental battle. He needed twenty minutes to prepare himself. Standing too quickly makes him nauseous. The chemo seemed to make every moment of the day, every complex thought, and all foods cause his stomach to twist threateningly.

Saline dripping above his head, oxygen hissing around his ears, and the warmth of overlapped conversations around him. He feels vacantly removed, left out of a loop that he can’t even tell what’s happening. Prying his eyelids open his hard, resolve weak and body too heavy. Weighed down, rocks tied to his hands. He can feel himself being pulled down through the stretcher. He can’t make his mouth work properly, lips parted in a hoarse groan. “W’as wrong?”

Jessica hears him, sees him waking up. His fingers twitching on the bed and his head lifting up off the pillows, searching for something without opening his eyes. Jessica decides to let someone else handle it, looks over the top of her book, and makes it clear.

Dave moves first, pen sliding into the pages of his book as he sits it down. He squeezes Aaron’s hand, smiling at the groan that leaves his mouth. “Shh, now,” Dave encourages. “It’s alright. It’s nothing, go back to sleep. You’re okay.” His response is another groan, slivers of brown iris’ finding him. “Back to sleep, Aaron.”

Hotch turns his head, “don’.” He pulls his hand back, agitated. He rubs the back of his hand against his nose, “not tired.”

Dave rolls his eyes, Jessica scoffs.

“Aaron,” Jessica, mercifully, leans forward to take the situation into her own hands. “Sleep.”

He groans eyes weighed down, body betraying his rebellion. “Bossy,” he rasps and Jessica just hums. She stands, smirking, and pulls his blanket back up to his neck. He does fall back to sleep, lulled under by the fingers Jessica passes across his hairline. Comforted by how tightly Dave holds his hand.

The medical staff advises and predicts a stay of about a week. They need to closely monitor his breathing for a little longer, prevent another episode from occurring. He spikes a fever and that gets him a few more days, his combative behavior doesn’t help. He’s resistant to the idea that anyone helps him and as his fever spikes it’s hard to comply to his request.

Here Garcia and Reid step back. They’re not… as prepared.

Emily doesn’t even ask when she walks into the bathroom where he’s trying to shower, talking to him about Stephanie from the third floor who was totally hitting on her. He’s shaking by the time the shower’s done, exhausted from lifting his hands up and down and from standing so long. Emily keeps talking, towel drying his hair roughly until he grumbles and then they laugh at the oddness of the situation. His hair is untamable and she gets a kick out of standing the ends up, spiking his hair into a mohawk.

Derek falls into step with him when the nurses come in to remind him of the three daily walks he’s supposed to take up and down the hall. He’s a person to lean into when Hotch starts coughing, an arm around his hips so that he doesn’t fall over. And when they wrap a fall risk bracelet around his hand Derek winces and Dave supplies “yellow isn’t your color”. Some days Derek is met with intense distance and other days they walk close, Derek’s arm already around his back, and talk about nothing, anything.

Dave brings dinner, not that Hotch is eager to eat it, but also popsicles of whatever flavor he could possibly want. He’s partial to Outshine, especially the strawberry ones, and it might not be food but it feels nearly right again to see him eating at least something. It’s a sensitive barrier, a hard line to play with knowing when Hotch just needs a little encouragement and when he just really can’t.

JJ brings movies. Her speed is action movies and Hotch is more into anything but that. So they take turns picking and usually pull punches so that the movie is something they’ll both like but when he’s feeling particularly ill, she’ll pick something awful. Give him an excuse to fall asleep during the movie and she enjoys as much, if not more than he does. An excuse to invade his personal space, cut the lights off, and lay beside him on the bed. She’ll paperwork up there, so relaxed she can zone in and out of what she’s supposed to be doing. He’ll look over her shoulder, reading case reports until he falls asleep or until she shuts the file and tosses it to the side.

These habits, these formations, do not stop when he leaves the hospital. Early. He leaves the hospital, too. Reid comes to visit on Thursday when the others are simply too busy doing other things. Resolve weakened and still shaken, Reid doesn’t last even phase one of Hotch’s plan to bust himself out of the hospital.

Derek is already at Hotch’s house, fighting Jack in the kitchen as they search through the fridge that Garcia’s just packed full of food. She feels ill-equipped to deal with everything, despite having known the longest. She feels guilty. She should have said something long before he got this bad, to the other’s so that they’d know, or to Hotch so at least he could ask her for help.

“Daddy!” Jack jumps up from the floor, running straight to his father before anyone can advise against it but Hotch withstands the collision, beaming down at his son. “I missed you.” Jack wraps his arms around Hotch’s hips, face pressed into his stomach. “Do you wanna help me put my puzzle together?”

They’re livid that he left but they don’t take it out on Reid. Emily won’t speak to either of them but she’s just too mad to hold a conversation. Derek helps him back to his room, Jack hot on their heels. It actually makes Hotch feel worse, being home and still unable to do things the way he wants. They get out of his hair a little more, there isn’t the same guilt associated with his home as the hospital.

It gives him a lot of time to think.

And he finds himself thinking about his father.

No one but Jessica knows the full story of his childhood but they’ve seen him shirtless too many times, know him too well not to have pieced at least most of it together. It’s not his best-kept secret.

He had been the kid that sat in the back of the class. Who never raised his hand, eagerly dancing in his chair, jumping at the chance to prove himself by means of validation from his teachers praising his correct answers. If they were reading aloud, rest assured he’d never have his name spoken by another classmate -- no one ever called his name and giggled in glee at his shocked and annoyed face like they did with one another. He couldn’t be certain they even knew it.

Logged with secrets of his short life, managing only the barest glimpses of life behind his dark eyes, he’d lurched and crawled his way to graduation. No more than a lifeless corpse dragging its reanimated form up and down the halls in its familiar pattern. Showing no signs of spontaneity, neither pain nor joy. Grey and slow.

It hadn’t mattered the silent prayers Hotch sent by way of hushed whispers just under his breath, Haley’s head tucked just under his chin, and the soft wisps of her hair moving with each puff of his breath. No matter how Hotch worked at integrating Jack quickly into as many social situations as possible, he had raised his son to be just a little bit too much like him. There are glimpses of Haley in the things that Jack does. Befriending Paul was leaps out of Hotch’s introverted ways and, more surprisingly, Jack’s.

Jessica’s sage words of frequently repeated wisdom disagree -- “he’s exactly like you, Aaron. The messy hair, that look he makes when he’s doing his homework… that’s all you”.

The little cowlick at the back of Jack’s blonde hair hardly speaks of anything more than Hotch forgetting to run a comb through it in the morning. Perhaps some validity points in favor of his paternity, after all it’s nearly the same cowlick he has. Neither one has tameable hair once it gets longer than an inch. Which does not leave a lot of stylistic options.

“Do you like the dinosaurs with the -- with the spiney -- What are they called?” As carefully as Derek had instructed him to be, Jack sits up by his father’s head. He’d crawled into the bed without invitation, he gets by with a lot these days, and Hotch can’t find it within himself to put those boundaries up between them right now. Jack curls up on his side, head on his father’s chest and a Triceratops staring at Hotch.

It had taken a year for cancer to kill his father and he knows that they’re right, he’s not the same as his father. His father smoked, heavily. Drank frequently and always too much. Didn’t have any friends -- and he finds himself snagged on this difference. Even as Derek throws his son up in the air, hauling Jack over his shoulder and making him shriek with laughter. As Penelope tries new recipe after new recipe of his favorite foods in the hopes that he manages to eat at least one. Not angry, not once, when he picks at the food the others shovel into their mouths. Singing her praises. Emily dragging him around on walks, slowly her pace to accommodate him. She never asks if he needs to stop, just does.

He has friends but sometimes he forgets.

“Daddy,” Jack pulls him back into the conversation. “Can we go to the museum? Uncle Spencer said there are dinosaurs everywhere.”

Hotch nods, “I can ask Uncle Spencer to take you.”

Jack shakes his head, sitting up, “I want you to take me.” He would have never demanded a thing from his father. Never once considered asking for something. Sean was allowed these luxuries, begging to be taken to a game or to the park. Jack pouts, leaning forward and tucking himself up against his father. “We can go Saturday? I’ll take a shower the night before, I promise.”

He’s been hospitalized for four days and Saturday is only two days away, it’s not enough time to recuperate. Not enough time to feel like himself but he can do it. He’ll invite Reid, it’ll provide a great distraction for them both, and that way there’s someone else to focus on. It’s just the museum.

“Okay,” he caves. “On Saturday.”

He’s got a family, people who can trust and who need him just as much as he needs them. He’s going to be okay.

#tw cancer #lie to me #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #david rossi #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #penelope garcia #jessica brooks

[helenazbmrskai]

Not Alone

Title Not Alone

Pairing Yoongi x OC

Summary University is kicking your ass so you always make sure to dedicate a day for yourself and take time to pamper your body and soul. However, you’re cautious around Yoongi your roommate and double-check the d-day to prevent accidents. You're not a fan of revealing any skin because of your insecurities but it’s just happening to be the day when you are - not so alone.

Genre university au, roommate au, romance and fluff, smut

Warning(s) smut (body worshipping, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, messy sex, first time, virgin reader, dirty talk, vanilla sex, yoongi has a virgin kink but not explicitly mentioned) implication of insecure reader, shy and curvy reader

Word count: 9k

Masterlist

This universe is related to my other fic I wrote recently ’one time boy space friend’ you can read that one here.

Washing the excess shaving cream off of my hand I grab my phone I previously placed on the toilet’s folded lid lightly humming the outline of the song currently playing. The new playlist Yoongi recommended is full of bangers as always I have no doubt his fate was eventually to end up as a music major. I take a glance at my reflection when I was able to secure the new position for my phone on the laundry basket with the top slightly open reminding me that I need to do laundry if I want to have clothes to wear.

I take a glance at my reflection removing the fog that made the lines of my face blurry with a towel hanging next to the sink on a hook realising later that I used Yoongi’s looking back at the sheepish smile that greets me in the mirror I placed the fabric back hoping that Yoongi won’t mind.

An unknown rap song’s first beats suddenly interrupted by an incoming call that the familiar piano version of my favourite song signalled. I smile seeing the callers ID, placing the toner back to its dust-filled spot next to Yoongi’s shaving cream I make sure to use the right towel this time to dry my hands with before swiping right on the call.

”Hey, What’s the matter?” I answer it with a huge grin plastered on my face making my cheeks ride up into a chipmunk-like smile.

Our class was cancelled at the last minute so I wasn’t expecting a call from her she told me while we were waiting for the instructor to arrive that she has plans with his boyfriend Jimin. Only having calculus that day after an exchanged heated curses for our lazy professor for not e-mailing about the reschedule I happily took a sweet nap and made an easy breakfast I normally don’t have time to consume or even make in the morning I was able to get my relaxing time to start earlier so it meant more time for me since Yoongi supposedly took the afternoon shift.

This piece of information I remembered while chewing on my sandwich as I thanked the gods that I overheard his conversation about the shift change last night when I went to get my late-night snack but seeing the date expired on the comfort food I had to engage in a yoghurt instead.

”Y/N. Are you home?” She asked matching my good mood in the background I heard clinking noises of a pan she must be cooking. I insert my head through the large black t-shirt’s hole as I started to freeze standing here only in my undergarments the effect of the hot shower faded leaving me in the significantly colder bathroom.

”Of course. I started my pamper routine. I cannot tell you how good it feels to be hairless. If only my hair would grow this fast.” She chuckles hearing my banter the faint sounds of crepitation usually the hot oil makes overpowering her giggle for a few seconds. I remember the sandwich I ate this morning around ten-ish that did not prove to be enough. I get sidetracked with what should I make for lunch.

”Oh, so Yoongi is working?” Knowing about my only one rule regarding this d-day I like to call it is that no man should be around when I’m wearing this revealing clothing. He only saw me wearing jeans and yoga pants before these jelly-like legs cannot make a debut in front of eyes outside of mine.

”Yep.” I confirm. I take a look at the time I still have lots of time to relax before I should start that assignment I postponed.

I have everything planned out since Yoongi usually comes home from work in a grumpy state he likes to shower first and then he retreats into his room to do his assignments and sometimes he writes a song or the song even could be the assignment itself I honestly don’t know how’s everyday life as a music major. Yoongi is not exactly the talkative type.

My silent activity is helping his concentration and the best thing is that I have the apartment by myself to do what I please and leave the comfort of my room wearing what I please without worrying.

The best would be if I could rent out my own apartment but I know I wouldn’t be able to pay it by myself and the fact that Yoongi and I share the expenses of the bill makes things so much more easier.

”Why did you call though? I’m sure it’s not because you already miss me.” Tired of holding the phone up I place it back where it was before leaving the call on speakers so I can rub the cocoa scented lotion into the skin on my legs.

”Right. I almost forgot. Jin taught you that Mexican dish that I don’t know how to pronounce its name, right?” Her voice fades a little mid-sentence probably changed ears hearing the cooking noises seeping through the background she seemed very busy.

”What about it?” I question closing the lid of the lotion after I rub the remaining cream on my hand onto my neck so nothing goes to waste.

”I need the recipe.” She demands. I laugh how desperate she sounds through the phone. I make my way out of the bathroom I need my notebook since I didn’t memorise the dish I only made it once and as it was previously stated with the help of Jin.

”Hold on I don’t remember where I left the notes.” I arrive at the kitchen area placing the phone on the counter I begin rummaging through the drawers bending down to peek at the content of each. Spoons and forks. The second one where Yoongi placed the aprons and towels my notebook must be in the last one. ”So, what are the plans for today?” I ask while still searching for the black shiny cover of my notebook.

”Well, I wanted to cook something Italian since Jimin told me once he wanted to try it out but a crucial ingredient is missing so I thought about making that one you told me about a few weeks ago at Jin’s birthday party. After I’m finally done with this shit I’m going to sneak into his room to give him the blowjob of his life while he’s playing some shit games boys do and tell him lunch is ready.” The huge breath she took before starting the word vomiting makes me praise her lung capacity.

Finally. The book was under the aprons what a hassle. I straighten up turning the pages when I hear the front door opening and shut soon after. I turn to see the face of the intruder as I’m still standing in the middle of the kitchen with my hair evidently wet from the shower I took earlier only in my panties and a huge ass shirt to cover myself with.

Yoongi drops his coffee-stained shirt by the foot of the couch the angle is letting me see the living room area without a problem but he can’t clearly see the kitchen from there but my relief is not long-lasting as my friend decides to choose that moment to speak drawing Yoongi’s attention to where I’m standing.

”Y/N are you still there? Shit. I burnt my finger.” Grabbing the phone off the counter I switch off the speaker option and push the device against my ear.

”Yeah, um, I’ll send you the recipe via message. Good luck. Bye.” I aggressively push the red phone button at the bottom left side of the screen until the call ends. Hearing my voice Yoongi walks through the door separating the living room and the kitchen to halt his steps when he takes the image in.

It’s not one of those best times to ponder over how good looking he’s after finishing work and how he always smells like freshly brewed coffee which is not a surprise knowing the fact that he works at a coffee shop near our rented place.

He doesn’t wear the shirt uniform it must be the one he got rid of because of the stains today he wears a simple white t-shirt with washed-out blue jeans. Focusing on his face again I see that his eyes no longer studying my face instead his gaze dipped lower and I swear he's not so subtle about ogling at my exposed legs. My legs!

”You’re … early.” I talk first considering my options. A, I can still make a run for it but the damage is already done. He saw me. Or B, I can try to make small talk pretending that nothing is embarrassing at all just to later enter my room and dig a hole with all of my self-pity and scream into my pillow.

”Um, there was a shift change but I finished 2 hours early in return.” He explains this time his gaze was on my face the entire time no more strayed glimpses. Fuck. I should have paid attention to the whole conversation. ”Don’t you .. have class normally this time around?” He trails off a faint trace of blush appears on his porcelain skin. I use the notebook to hide my panty line that peeks out of the shirt.

”Class cancelled.” I’m horrified how my voice sounds so high pitched the embarrassment paints my cheeks bright red. ”Um, I have something to do in my room so I’ll be there.” I use the lame excuse to escape from Yoongi when I close the door behind me I close my eyes as well because of the extreme humiliation I had to go through.

My phone buzzes in hand I suddenly remember the recipe I promised. I write a quick message to her attaching the picture of the ingredients and notes to help her with the preparations. Now since I’m done with the responsibilities I can swim in my tears for the time being.

I can’t believe after months of caution fate decided to take away from me the deserved me time days. Yoongi is probably weirded out by me too I don’t know how to look him in the eye from now on and it’s a serious problem. For lords heaven, we live together! There’s no way I can avoid him without being obvious about it.

I mean maybe I’m just overreacting. It’s Yoongi we are talking about. He most of the time doesn’t give a flying fuck about anything he certainly won’t mention it and for obvious reasons I won’t either so I can just leave things like that. Just acting as usual like he didn’t saw my legs and my black underwear not to mention he is the very first one to see it I mean outside of my family of course. He’s a boy. No. A man. And he saw me underdressed like that.

It’s okay Y/N, let’s see the bright side at least he saw me when I was shaved. Well, that doesn’t help. Not at all.

”Shit. I’m hungry.”

I waited an hour and forty minutes to be exact despite the rumble of my stomach I sat down to start the book one of my friends lent me to read and I’m over a quarter of the pages when I decided enough is enough.

I waited long enough so he must be cooped up in his room slash studio for the rest of the day. But to be extra cautious I peeked out before fully leaving the safety of my room. I stop once I step into the corridor listening for any noises that might indicate Yoongi has indeed occupied his nest the soft sounds of the synthesizer helps me to relax I leisurely make my way then in the direction of the kitchen.

As I flip the switch the room is enveloped in light. My favourite mug is sitting on top of the counter even though I don’t remember leaving it there. I walk to take a closer look the mug is filled with coffee it’s in a light brown colour so it must a latte. It smells like latte indeed.

My favourite drink. There’s a note glued to the bottom of the mug it’s a messy handwriting and I don’t have to guess to know to whom this belongs to. How did he know my favourite coffee order?

”Sorry for startling you earlier. - myg”

The simple worded note even had his initials at the end. Realising that I never tried out his coffee made me curious about the taste. He works as a barista so It cannot be bad. I’m always late for class so I never had the chance before going into the shop when he’s on duty and order a drink from him.

Most of the time I’m saving on it and just use the shared coffee machine. Don’t blame me I’m just a broke university student.

But if I drink this I won’t be able to sleep it’s pretty late. Fuck it. I’m going to drink it. Not that the unholy time for coffee consumption deterred me before and picked up on some of Yoongi’s personal characteristics I think I can confidently say he doesn’t care either.

I bite into my lip while carefully straightening the lines out on the sticky note. After I was convinced the note won’t come off of his door I leave to go to bed.

”Thanks for the coffee. I liked it. – Y/N.”

***

”Can you guys stop shovelling food into your mouths for a millisecond. I’m serious!” Hitting the table for further emphasis.

Rori and F/N digging through a pile of food before our morning class is something I got used to first as I befriended them and it doesn’t bother me any other time but I wanted some serious advice for once and they don’t even stop digging to say well that’s was awkward. Or shit that sucks.

Not that I don’t know that without them telling me. I appreciated the note and the subtle apology he didn’t phrase it like hey dummy I’m sorry for seeing your sausage legs my bad. Also, it would be unlikely, too wordy for him he’s tight-lipped even in messages. I don’t remember he ever told me like a two full sentence in one go.

”Serious for what Y/N? He saw your underwear and legs. Tell us if you display your boobs or something. Now, I would be interested.” Rolling my eyes at the sarcastic remark I steal one of her favourite apple pie sticks for good measures.

”Hey! I was going to eat that.” She pouts but I take another big bite out of it. It’s too sweet for my liking but everything for the even sweeter revenge. If there’s one thing I learned about these two throughout the years of knowing them is that they take their food very seriously. ”Look. We love you, that’s why I’m going to tell you this. It’s not a big deal.” She pats my cheek before picking up her fork again.

”So what happened F/N. Did you gave Jimin the blowjob of his life?” I used a quote mark at the end of the sentence just how she phrased it yesterday. Rori is more interested in that, of course, there’s nothing more important than sex.

”Let me say the food was cold once we were finished.” She chuckled bashfully. Do I have the right set of friends? Maybe I should be pickier about who I call as a friend.

”So he’s big?” Rori asked with a smirk and I almost spitted out the diet coke onto the dining table. We are in a fucking coffee shop for god damn good. Thankfully not the one Yoongi works for but I think he has morning class so he won’t be working either way.

”Please don’t go into details.” I plea and Rori presents me with a devilish grin while picking the chicken breasts out of my salad.

”It’s fine Y/N. I was a virgin too before Jimin. Your time will come, not that it’s a choice.” F/N tries to console me.

”It’s a choice just not mine.” I murmur it under my nose stabbing my salad with the fork before chewing on it without the meat it’s quite sour.

”Yeah. It’s because you and F/N are both have big sticks up your asses.” Used to her blunt remarks I’m not even hurt or surprised for that matter. The busy cafe drowns out the voices of their inappropriate talk at least.

”It’s not our fault that you fuck every man with a pulse.” F/N retorts back with a giggle satisfied with the remark we exchange high fives.

”How do you know it’s a requirement?” Rori lifts one of her brows making us do gagging motions.

”Ugh, That’s disgusting.” I abandon the food on my plate that was a bit too much and we are in the middle of breakfast.

”A person cannot even joke here? I wasn’t serious. Duh.” I should really search for those new friends.

”That’s something I can believe.” The insult wasn’t even spoken out too loud but she heard me all the same and it earned a kick under the table from Rori with his high heels, I returned the glare she sent my way.

***

”Oh, hi.” I step aside to let Yoongi enter, he furrows his brows in concentration if I wasn’t running late I would ponder over the fact how he measures my body by centimetres. I fidget with my earrings but without a mirror, it’s a difficult task to carry out.

”I thought we’re going to meet with the guys at 8.” Realising the motive behind his stare I nod furiously.

”Yeah. But Rori accepted that guy’s offer to taste wines and she’s afraid she’s going to be abducted so me and F/N will accompany her.” I tell him and he doesn’t seem pleased I wasn’t either at first but I hope he won’t do anything with three girls there.

”Be careful. Anyone else knows about this?” He asks with evident worry lacing his voice he steps closer helping to finally get that chape snap into place.

”Jimin knows and I think Jungkook knows too.” Once he’s done he restores the distance between the two of us. ”Also you know F/N she’s apt to be violent.” Yoongi nods.

”Fuck. I’m late.” I swear as I look at the time. With hurried steps, I pick up my boots and size up my keys ready to leave.

”See you later.” Hearing his voice calling out to me I look back smiling a little managing to whisper back a ’see you later’ of my own. I think this was the longest conversation I held with him so far, what a shame I couldn’t stay to talk more.

The wine tasting went better than I expected. That guy is filthy rich he gave us a little tour around the house before letting us each pick out 5 wines of our liking. We learned that he’s a sports major he’s a swimmer and he told us stories about his practises with the swimming team and talked awfully long about his wins and trophies. To be honest he seemed like a bit eccentric and pompous for me but Rori liked him.

We were late because our taxi on its way to the bar got into a little traffic jam. I got a text from Yoongi at the same time F/N got one from Jimin they were curious about where we are and how we are. We wrote back a short text that we’re almost there.

”So? Whose’s the guy?” Jin asked once we are seated down. F/N took her place next to Jimin and Rori beside her leaving me with the only option of sitting down next to Yoongi at the other side of the table.

Once I’m comfortably seated I look around the table I catch in the corner of my eye Namjoon and Jungkook taking shots. Yoongi grabs his alcoholic beverage before him from the table our shoulders brush against each other due to the motion. I bite the inside of my cheeks don’t want to fidget in place.  

”He’s a sports major.” Rori told Jin she told him about our little tour but she conveniently left out the offer about a threesome that I politely declined.

”Oh Y/N you remember that guy who wanted to get your phone number?” Scrunching my nose as the scene flashed before my eyes, of course, I remember. That was one of my most awkward moments and believe me when I say there’s a lot of option to choose from on my list and it’s still the worst. As far as I know, that guy was a sports major too and he was very persistent.

”Yes, what about him?” I nod. I try to shoo the pictures out of head but a forming blush creeping up my neck quicker than I realise.

”Well he’s here. And he’s coming this way.” F/N tells without looking my way her eyes trained behind my form probably to report back his every move. I physically have to hold myself back from whimpering and its not the good kind.

”Shit.” I bite my lower lip don’t want to make things more obvious I don’t turn around to confirm it.

”Oh. I remember. You gave him Rori’s number, don’t you?” Jungkook, you traitor. He was with me when it happened I was flustered enough that he asked Jungkook is my boyfriend or not that I didn’t want to expand my suffering so I gave him my friend's number. She told me if someone I don’t want tries to get into my pants and bothers me I can use her number as a bait knowing her even though my pants were not on the line I still did that. Well, she did more than that after.

”Then what’s the problem?” Jin asks so invested in our conversation that I want to smack him on the neck.

”I was sexting with him and we fucked.” She shrugs. That was what I tried to say. I really don’t want to face that guy.

I stand up with so much vehemency that I almost knock down a glass from the table it’s Yoongi’s empty glass at the bottom of it there’s a thin line of whiskey left. Yoongi grabs my thighs to stabilise me. Looking over his shoulder I saw that said guy indeed walking into this direction.

”Uh, please dance with me?” I grab Yoongi’s hand surprising him for a moment or two but lets me pull him up.

”You have a habit of running away, huh?” I look back to get a grip at the situation. I led Yoongi into the dance floor even though I don’t even know how to dance. He sees the panic settling in my face so he starts guiding me with his hand flat against my lower back. There’s a lot of bodies to avoid so Yoongi is extremely close.

”I don’t like confrontation.” I subtly hide behind his broad shoulders I can see it on him how he tries to stop himself from laughing. I like the sound of his laugh.

”I’m aware.” He purrs into my ear pulling me closer by a hand wrapped around my waist the sweet scent of his cologne hits me like a tone of bricks. I’m painfully aware how his body touches mine my breast pushed against his flat ribcage I can feel him inhaling and exhaling the used oxygen.

”Y-your hand Yoongi.” His hand is dangerously low on my back I’m sure he feels the curve of my ass under his fingers. The bar is dimly lit so my blush remains subtle in a certain extent seeing me blush so many times I wouldn’t be surprised if he would recognise it before it fully blooms on my face.

”What about it?” He clearly wants me to say it but there’s no way I’m going to bluntly say that his hand touches my ass. Rather die.

”What are you doing? Are you drunk?” I defensively ask answering the question with my own questions. He openly finds my antics amusing because this time he laughs. That gummy smile makes my knees weak for him he strengthens his hold on my waist like he knows it.

”My car is here. I’m as sober as I can be.” The hand I placed on his chest when he suddenly pulled me closer itched. He’s touching me and he’s sober. Heaving a sigh he replaces them around his neck I can’t relish in the feeling as his hand on my ass beyond doubt gone since he places it back soon after even lower. The grin he shows me makes me want to give him my fist instead of my virginity.

”Then why are you touching me?” My confidence wavered significantly as he lowered his head his lips closer than ever but instead of kissing me, he blows air into my ear riling me up with the gesture.

”This makes you uncomfortable?” I wanted to say yes, but the full truth would be it’s undeniably uncomfortable and exciting it makes my blood boil under my skin and it scares me how much I want him to touch me tossing aside my insecurities just to feel him like this. At least he knows his boundaries. I don’t know what would I do if his hand suddenly moved.

”No. I’m just embarrassed.” I nervously twist a hair at the nape of his neck didn’t realise the act just when I did it.

”You ran away because you were embarrassed yesterday too?” I stop toying with his hair once the words register in my head. Is he talking about the kitchen incident? And here I thought that there’s nothing more that could make the situation more awkward.

”Y-yes.” The confidence I felt before left me I shy away from his eyes the way he sized me up that day still vivid in my head.

”Why?” A perfect arch of his eyebrows indicating that he wants his answer this time and I am about to give him.

”Because you were staring at me.” I tell him oh so matter of factly. He practically beams at the offered answer the glint in his eyes telling me that’s the answer he seeks in the first place and he has his own set of words in return.

”Wanna know what I thought about while staring at you?” His eyes pinning me to my spot I wouldn’t dare to move away even if I wanted to he seemed determined to get under my skin and maybe under my clothes too.

”No.” I challenge drunk by the boldness maybe the gin tonic I consumed earlier and the wines finally appearing be to be the liquid courage I needed. Reading between the lines Yoongi tells me despite the answer.

”I imagined how you would look like wearing my shirt. It would cover you below your knees since you are tiny. Tell me you’re wearing one of those black panties I saw before?” I don’t answer but I let him pat my knee I can feel his warm palm under the fabric of my jeans he continues with more words even bolder than the first.

”I imagined how you would look like under me on my bed wrapping those long legs around my waist.” Affected by his words I mirror his hungry expression. He’s normally not a man of so many words and hearing him talk this much makes me feel special that he’s talking to me because he feels the need to let me know what’s plaguing his mind. I entertain the idea that maybe he wasn’t sure how to convey the message since I’m so shy he didn’t have a lot of opportunity cornering me before the kitchen incident. Perhaps it was the undo he needed.

”Tell me Y/N. Do you find me attractive?” His fingers stroke the flesh of my jaw he’s getting confident as I don’t push him away.

”You are attractive.” I tell him honestly and he grins but not in a malice kind of way his grin more like a boyish grin that boys wear after hearing that their high school crush likes them back. The happy kind of grin.

”Have you thought about me too? Like I did.” The next question hits differently it’s not so innocent and I wasn’t in the illusion he is.

”Yes.” Holding onto the boldness I agree.

”Tell me.” He urges. He’s sober I remember. Avoiding his stare I let my shyness getting to the best of me he brushes a strand of hair behind my ears coaxing out the reply. It feels nice to be touched by him.

”It’s embarrassing.”

”I told you mine. You have to tell me your fantasies so I can make them come true.” He trails a finger following the line of my collarbone my outfit leaves literally everything to the imagination the only skin he can feel is on my arms.

”You’re unfair.” I whine the words out Yoongi stops his movements to see the emotions behind my eyes. He seems confused by my conflicted expression. His eyes were always expressive and I loved staring at them. Those rare moments shared, eating together at the weekends letting me hear one of his song he proudly introduces.

”How so?”

I take a deep breath cupping his cheeks. ”You look good with dyed hair but I prefer it black. You look the best when you come home from work all sweaty because the air conditioner still not gotten repaired in your workplace so you always take a shower before doing anything else.” There’s glint catching the light in his orbs watching me closely while I tell him the things I locked away in my memories. He caresses my wrist with a raised hand the other directly resting upon mine as it's his face still trapped between the heels of my palms.

”I like your voice.” I let the words flow out like a river caught up in a thunderstorm. ”I always wanted to know how it would sound like moaning my name. I like your hands too.”

”What about them?” A big smile stretches his face knowing too well he won. I don’t feel the frustration of losing I’d gladly accept this fate again and again if it will give me the same results at the end of this.

”Yoongi.” I whine.

”Did you imagined this? Or this?” His hands leaving their position fondling the flesh on my hip hiding me behind his body he walks a hand up my decolletage.

”Stop, we are in public.” I hiss.

”No one pays attention Y/N. But I’ll gladly take this to the bedroom.” The offer temps me but I remember the boys.

”We can’t. You are the only sober one and the guys need their ride home.” I reason and Yoongi groans in frustration. He forgot about them already. He looks at the booth the others are drinking and laughing.

”If I tell Namjoon to stop drinking he would be sober enough to drive them back.”

I shake my head it would be too dangerous and considering he competed with Jungkook about who can take more shots I bet he’s drunk like a donkey alongside with the younger boy. ”I’m drunk too.” I tell him when he tries to come up with more solution.

”Fine.” Yoongi hugs me close probably to hide his displeased face doesn’t want to sound so desperate maybe he’s embarrassed.

”Don’t be like that. I promise if in the morning when I sobered up you still want to do it I’ll let you.”

He perks up gently pushing me away to look into my eyes. ”Let me do what?”

”Let you take me.”

 ***

I feel something warm tickling my sides a sudden wave of cold air hits my stomach but the cold soon replaced with a warm and wet feel against my skin. My eyes narrowly open I try to fidget away wrapping my fingers around the comforter when I feel that wet and warm feeling on my thighs.

Hands and tongue. The fog in front of my eyes clears I don’t remember when did I fell asleep or how did I end up here. Where am I? I spot the synthesizer in the corner Yoongi’s synthesizer. Yoongi’s room.

”Yoongi, what .. ah” My voice raspy from sleep the way he rubbed his nose into my neck just to deliver a long kiss to it after halted my question before I was able to voice it out.

”Did I wake you up. My bad.” He smiled into my skin loving the way my heart beats erratically with his every touch, his hand above my breast feeling the movements of it.

”You don’t sound so sorry about it.”

”Do you have a headache?” He caresses the side of my face helping to curl the locks behind my ear that interfered with my vision. The thoughtful gesture made me smile up at his face mirroring his expression of tenderness.

”No I’m good. I didn’t drink that much.” My fingers itch to touch his face maybe it’s because of the dreamy state I’m currently in that I have the confidence in doing so. I brush my hands through his bangs his eyes closing the caress urges a smile he grabs my hands once I’m about to pull away to move it against his mouth giving a small kiss onto my palm before intertwining them with his much larger ones.

I could get used to this. The image of him looking so raw and so vulnerable his eyes puffy with sleep lazy motions of his fingertip exploring my body under the duvet. My shirt is rolled up just below my breasts the shirt’s neck hangs around my shoulder in a loose coverage it smells like Yoongi just like the covers. Looking down I realise it’s not my shirt. It’s his.

”Glad to hear that. I want you to repeat your promise to me.” Yoongi burrows his face into my neck again his hair brushing against my bare skin the hand that’s not holding mine drops under the covers finding my hip guiding me to drape my right leg over his waist facing each other sideways.

”Promise? Can you be more specific?” I boldly move my hand caressing with feather-light touches his side I can feel his bare torso and hips under my fingers he shivers and not because of the cold. He’s shivering because I touched him and he’s not wearing a shirt. The thought crosses my mind that the shirt I’m wearing is the one he did wear the whole day but not now. Every other day I would be embarrassed but I quite liked the idea of wearing his clothes in his bed.

”A tease I see.” He recovered quicker than I would like he gave a quick peck onto my shoulder where his shirt didn’t cover that much skin. He cupped my breast above the fabric of my bra the sudden feel of him squeezing me there I whined a little bit too loudly. I pulled my hand away shielding my face due to embarrassment.

”Yoongi.” I shyly call his name. He let his hand stay there but he remained motionless giving my hands each a kiss just where my eyes would be if I didn’t hide behind my limbs. His hand felt warm against me where my bra wasn’t covering his two fingers rested directly on the skin of my breast.

”Do I have your consent baby?” I gulp my shy personality says no but my body says yes for me.

”You can have anything.” I place my palm against his that lays on my body my eyes still closed but I don’t shield my face anymore. The words came out as whispers even though I wanted him to hear me say it. I wanted him to go on.

”Love. Answer me.” I open my eyes again when I feel his hand leave my boobs to cup my face with it instead.

”You can have me. You can fuck me. Did it answer your question or should I be more specific?” I wet my lips poking my tongue against the inside of my cheeks trying to calm down the rapid movement of my heart my hands shook as I grip his hair moving my mouth against his to not just say but show my consent. I want this. I want him.

”No. I think it was explicit enough, I like seeing you blush.” Hearing him say that makes me blush harder and he gifts me with a gummy smile basking in the responsive reactions. I would be more embarrassed if I wouldn’t feel the sticky substance dampening my underwear.

”Do you have something in mind? A preference? Or can I surprise you.” The way he explicitly asks about my sexual preferences makes him appear hotter a new wave of arousal hits me making me grind my thighs together forgetting that Yoongi’s leg is between them. I know he felt the wetness but doesn’t comment on it he instead pushes his knees further up parting my legs.

”You d-decide.” I moan when his knee brushes against my crotch. He hummed delighted by my answer. Placing back his hand once more squeezing my breasts before undoing the clasps behind my back. He slowly lets the material fall he strictly looks into my eyes not wandering downwards seeking out my every reaction. I gave him a little nod he takes it as the permission he needed he moves the cover so he can take a look.

”So pretty.” He sighs into my skin he turns my body to be flat against the bed the cold sheets meeting with my back goosebumps travelling up my spine. ”So soft.” He mumbles the endless of praises dragging his fingers over a nipple before licking it with his tongue a choked moan leaves my parted lips his hair gently caressing the skin. He circles the nipple with his poked out tongue kneading the other neglected one with his free hand. Mewls and sighs, in turn, filling the room trying to keep my voice quiet but it’s hard since the only thing I can concentrate on is his mouth on me and his hands those long fingers as he drags them down on my body a finger slides under the waistband of my panty he stretches the material out before letting it snap back into place. The uncomfortable feeling of it sticking to my folds gets frustrating by every passing minute.

”You smell good.” His raspy voice helps me return from my sudden astonishment I scrape his scalp with my long nails as I weave my fingers through his hair he lets out a low growl my skin covering up the noise the vibration he sends up my body by it makes me tighten my legs around his waist my underwear covered cunt pressed against his firm chest forces a not so silent whine out.

”It’s m-my lotion.” I reply absentmindedly. He hums into my collarbone not sure my answer registered truly in his brain I feel him taking a big inhale before pulling away he pushes himself up with the help of his hands planted beside my head looking with heavily lidded eyes taking in my hazed eyes and swollen lips before connecting our mouths. I almost forgot how good of a kisser Yoongi is.  

The light touch against my inner thigh makes my hip jolt up in surprise Yoongi’s eager mouth swallows all the sounds and whimpers. ”Relax.” He purrs aiming for my hips soothing circles into my skin. I take a few deep breaths Yoongi waits patiently for me to calm down a little the way his eyes sizing me up like I’m some kind of goddess eases some of my nerves. Once he’s positive I’m not going to run away he lets his palm touch me the barrier that’s my underwear stays in place as he drags his fingers directly onto my heat. I feel it throb under his ministrations having confidence after a few moans I let out he gets bolder using more pressure to dip between my folds the underwear’s silky touch lets him move smoothly. ”Can I feel it? I want to make sure you’re wet enough before I do anything else.” Nodding even before the question was fully out I anticipate a laugh or something to tease me about my eagerness. I don’t think I wanted someone this bad before to touch me. But he doesn’t laugh he seems as eager as I feel. He slides a finger under the damp material but he retreats too soon. ”Please, can I take it off?” To persuade me further if his plea wasn’t enough he rubs his fingers where my clit is over my panty. The plea was enough but I’m not complaining. I manage to signal him with a breathy yes. Don’t have to tell him twice he slides the ruined material down my legs his big warm hands gripping my inner thighs preventing my legs from closing before he can take a look.

”Look at that. So pink and swollen for me.” Previously he was careful with every move waiting for approval before doing anything bold but like he’s lost all the continence in him Yoongi drags two fingers up my folds coating his fingers with my arousal letting just the tip of his fingers penetrating just to pull back. I let out the loudest moan blushing as I realise just how loud I sounded but Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind, not at all. He wanted to coax more of those sounds as he bent down parting the lips with his tongue letting out his own moans while tasting me and if it’s even possible at this point I feel more turned on than ever.

”Warm too. Sorry, my love, my hands are a little cold but I hope you don’t mind.” He finally slips a finger in my eyes slightly open he watches me with a grin loving the way I squirm wanting it chuckles deep and I don’t mind at all. The stretch his one digit means feels familiar reminding me when I was chasing relief on my own but his fingers are so so much better longer and thicker. I can’t wait to feel the second one.

”I want to make you cum on my tongue.” Delivering a kittenish lick sucking on my clit for the demonstration before he goes on. ”Just to bring you another orgasm with my fingers.” Yoongi curls the one finger in me rubbing it into my throbbing walls ”Lastly let you cum around my cock.” He throws his head back moaning sinfully just thinking he’s about to make everything he said come true. ”You deserve at least three orgasms but I shouldn’t be greedy your virgin cunt can’t handle three.” He eases another finger in this time the stretch is a bit more uncomfortable.

”Let’s start with two.” He says settled with the idea he places a wet kiss onto my hip before finding my abused clit again sucking and rolling it around his tongue my walls contacts around his two digits I feel the sticky substance coating my inner thighs and dripping onto the sheets the mess, the way Yoongi’s hair tickle my thighs, the way he moves his fingers inside me, the pleasure gets overwhelming something starts to build up promising a relief I never had the chance of feeling before.

”Yoongi fuck, Yoongi” His name spills from my mouth and it seems to encourage him to be faster.

”It’s fine.” He tells before sucking harshly on my clit. ”Cum for me.” The proud grin he forms still buried between my legs and the vibration of his hum makes my legs shake I let my head fall back into the pillows closing my eyes until I see literal stars.

He stops lapping my juices once I’m finished the proud smile still plastered on his face licking his lips capturing the remaining of my pleasure. He looks so hot. I never knew I’m capable of coming this hard.

”Good?” Placing a kiss onto my nose he caresses my arms I didn’t realise I was grabbing onto the sheets this tight I let Yoongi place my hands onto his shoulder blades he moves to get between my legs once more.

Instead of answering, I can’t help but impatiently point out. ”You’re still wearing clothes.” I grab his hips pulling on his sweatpants playfully.

”Wanna take it off?” He asks smirking. I roll my eyes at his cockiness not that he’s all talk when it comes to his skills but he has more ego than he can manage and I’m not going to increase it for him.

”So what? Don’t tell me you are not eager even more than me to bury your dick into my virgin pussy.” His eyes grow bigger for a split second before it regains its original state, so he can be startled too. I’m surprised by my boldness, but god, it’s worth it seeing him so fucked up by those words.

”You’re playing a dangerous game Y/N. I need my self-control right now.” Something shifted in his eyes he looks like he’s about to devour me. Yoongi shifts onto his knees to get rid of the final barriers between us. I close my eyes my shyness returns too soon but Yoongi doesn’t mind it I open my eyes again as he positions myself above me placing a firm kiss onto my lips he senses I’m anxious.

”Do you trust me?” Seeing the open vulnerability in his shiny orbs, not entirely clouded by lust makes my head swim with a lot of suppressed emotion. I feel the urge to smile lifting my head from the pillows beneath me I give him a peck.

”Of course I am.” I kinda like you. I bite into my lips before the next sentence could slip through we’ll talk about this another time. Right, the only thing I want to focus on is Yoongi. Only Yoongi. His tip brushes against my stomach, shit, I haven’t seen how big he is. His lip pressed to mine swallows the tiny moan leaving my lips as he pushes the first inch inside parting my walls in a painful stretch. Fuck. He’s big.

”Tight.” Yoongi moans, more in pleasure than I am currently in but it’s ok. He made me cum I want to see him cum too. ”Relax for me angel I won’t hurt you I promise.” Relishing in the way he caresses my side I try to relax my body he pushes another inch in slowly his tip must be fully buried by now.

”That’s right. You’re doing so well.” He praises his eyebrows knit together in concentration he’s holding himself back because of me. Touched by the gesture I move my hip to meet his advances he slips in deeper than he intended his groan significantly louder by the sudden pleasure.

”Does it hurt?” He pulls himself together to keep the eye contact he caresses the skin under my eye I nod before answering.

”A little.”

”Let’s try a few more thrusts if it still hurts after that I’ll stop and eat you out again. Shit. Maybe I should have made you cum again for the extra lubrication.” Yoongi regretfully gazes at my face.

”It’s fine. Just go slow.” I say the burning is bearable I’m getting used to the feeling slowly but not sure if I can cum again.

”My baby is so tight.” I’m definitely a sucker for those pet names. It helps me focus on his words instead of his slow thrusts. ”I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. Feeling you wrapped around me a dream come true.” I experimentally squeeze around him and he lets out a loud moan his head nestled into my neck groaning and moaning between filthy words his pace got quicker but I don’t stop him even though it’s not feeling as good as him eating me out. I want to please him though and by the sounds, he seems very pleased.

”Are you alright?” He stops after hearing a louder whiny moan on my part but I don’t let him I circle my hips in place dragging out moans from him but he forces himself to reset his previous slower pace. I’m not having any of it. I want him to cum and want it soon.

”Yoongi” I whine out his name an idea foggily forming at the back of my head. ”Yoongi, I wanna ride you.”

”Are y-you sure?” He stills inside of me waiting for the confirmation and I nod inviting him into a kiss that turns slopy by time. I feel his hands grabbing at my waist to change position this way he sinks in deeper.

Holy shit it feels so much better.

”Fuck. Do you like this?” He grips my hips dragging his cock touching every sensitive part in me as my walls swallow his shaft he pulls me up just to let me sink down with a needy moan I’m starting to feel the appeal.

”Yes. I-ah-think.” I can almost picture the way my eyes roll back behind my skull right now. What was I saying? ”Go faster.” I choke out and Yoongi with a following set of groans obligates I’m too far gone to pay attention to how Yoongi watches with hungry eyes that I ruin the bedsheets.

”I like that you are so messy.” He places a stray hair behind my ears our chests pressed together so he can thrust up faster and harder. Yoongi holds me in place taking control the way his eyes shuts involuntarily and his member twitching inside of me signals that he’s close.

He’s breathtakingly beautiful as he reaches his high he’s so lost in the pleasure my walls provide so tight around him that he doesn’t have the mind to kiss me back so I just press them together for a minute longer. My legs ache because of the exercise but I let him use me to ride out his high the pretty sounds and satisfied look he gives me once seated firmly inside me with our mixed cum spilling out he looks down where our body connects rubbing the skin of my hip lovingly while watching me ruin his sheets. He likes that I’m messy.

”I hope you like me back because I don’t think I could fuck anyone else from now on.” I end up in a pit of laughter leaning my head on his shoulder he feels my body shake with the motion Yoongi whines in overstimulation when I accidentally squeeze his spent member. I peck the skin where my head previously rested before searching for Yoongi’s eyes.

”I do like you back.” I admit it shyly even though there’s nothing to be shy about his dick is still inside for fuck’s sake.

”Glad to hear that.” His grin returns faster than the speed of light. ”I thought I fucked your brains out when you suddenly started laughing. I was concerned for a minute.” I try to hit his shoulder but he’s faster grabbing my hand by the wrist and gives the flesh an attentive kiss the gesture is sweet and melts my heart.

”How are you feeling?” It’s cute how he seeks my reassurance. He lets me move away careful when pulling out so I can finally take the previous position lying down.

”Hm, sore but good. I just need .. some time. I don’t think I can stand up just yet.” I offer my honest reply burying my nose into the duvet that got tossed aside. He leaves the room making me confused but once he’s back with a towel in hand I pierce two and two together. It’s his towel. The thought is enough to make me blush furiously.

”Spread your legs for me.” I take the request as an order shyly spreading my legs so he can clean me up. ”There. All cleaned up.” The bed squeaks under the weight of his one knee pushing me further into the sheets. Yoongi bows down to kiss me his tongue teases my lips as we kiss asking for permission that I eagerly permit.

#btsghostie #yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts university au #bts roommates au

[caiuscassiuss]

Birched⎮D. Sicheng (M) P.2

Description: There was something that lurked beneath that pretty boy smile of Dong Sicheng— something dark, something dangerous… something you knew you would get pulled into once you got too curious. (Or, your ill-tempered coworker turns out to be your dominant.)

Part One is HERE 

Genre: BDSM/ enemies to lovers winwin! smut | romance | angst WC: 11k+ Warnings: graphic smut (dom! sicheng + sub! reader, BDSM (Bondage, Dominance, Submission, and Masochism) choking, rough sex), taboo relationship, blatant sexism, TW: mentions of an abusive relationship

(A/N: Thank you to my amazing beta @won-markiepooh-woo​ for helping me. This wouldn’t have been possible without you!)

Saturday February 1st, 2020

Y/N’s Apartment

10 AM HKT

The little jingle of a FaceTime call echoed through your silent apartment, and you snuggled into the sheets of your bed.

“Hello? Kun huang?”

A flash black hair and a sweet smile appeared within the view of the camera.

“Huang Gua!” you exclaimed.

Instantly, the happy smile slipped off his face and transformed into an annoyed expression.

“Can you not? We’ve been over this,” he complained.

“Oh come on! It’s so funny,” you jibed.

“It’s not.”

“You only used to eat cucumbers for years. You earned that name yourself.”

“So?” he snorted. “You used to eat shrimp chips as a kid. I don’t call you shrimp, do I?” A devious expression flashed over his face.

“Kun Huang…” you warned.

“Maybe I should start now. Right, shrimp?”

“Oh my god, stop!”

“No, shrimp. I can keep going, you know.”

“Okay, fine, fine. I submit!” You laughed.

He chuckled. “That’s what I thought.”

“So how are you now, Hendery? How’s your mom and dad? Oh my gosh, Hengwai!”

“I’m doing fine, as are mom and dad. Hengwai misses her little sister. They all want you to call them more. Sometimes I think they miss you more than me.” He pouted.

“Awww, poor baby. But give them my well wishes too! I miss everyone so much,” you said. For some reason, tears welled in your eyes.

Obviously, Hendery could tell you were about to start crying and started to panic.

“Y/N? Talk to me. Oh, you know I can’t take it if you start crying!”

He never really could. Even after many years spent together in your childhood, he was still awkward as hell around your tears.

You waved him off, swiping the tears. “I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just so lonely around here.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m fine! I swear!”

“Literally, one word and I’m on a flight to Hong Kong. I’m not playing,” he said gravely.

“Hendery, no. Besides, don’t you have some farms to run? I would never expect you to do that.”

“One word, Y/N. Just one.” He looked you dead in the eye. 

You looked away. “Anyways, how are your farms going?”

A smile split his face and his eyes sparked. “Guess who just got their hundredth farm?”

Your jaw dropped. “No way, you’re fucking joking! One hundred?! I’m so proud of you! Kun Huang!” you squealed.

“Yeah, I know right? It’s so weird knowing so many people depend on me for their livelihoods now. I get sort of scared when I sit back and think about it…”

As Kun Huang went on about his day to day troubles in agriculture, a small, wistful smile played upon your lips. Why didn’t you just stay back and fall in love with Kun Huang? It would have been so easy. Being with Kun Huang was like breathing, and you could’ve spent the rest of your life like this. No Minghao, no BDSM, and most importantly, no… him.

Dolos.

Master?

Sicheng.

You hated how smoothly the puzzle pieces fit together. Sicheng always left early on Fridays, even though he always stayed late. At office parties, he lacked a significant other by his side, even when many would drop everything if he so much as winked at them.

It was hard not to think about him. You had started to feel an increase in your heartbeat whenever you thought of Dolos before Wednesday. You had originally wanted to know who was behind Dolos’ mask and if he returned those feelings. But, fuck, he would be so mad if he found out who you were.

Not to mention, how humiliating it would be if he knew. You had staked everything on being a cold-hearted bitch when Sicheng took particular pleasure in sneering at “the inherent submissiveness” of her gender. So if he found out Dove, who liked to be slapped during sex, and her, the la dame sans merci of the company, were the same person, it would destroy any chance of credibility you may have had in his eyes.

This was all one big mess. One big, gigantic and catastrophic mess. For so long you had rigorously kept your professional and personal lives apart, but the universe had conspired against you: to make the best dominant you ever had to also be your work nemesis.

Some higher being was laughing at you, you knew it.

Sunday February 2nd, 2020

The Dong Family Villa on the Shek O Peninsula, Hong Kong

1 PM HKT

A curl of disgust twisted his lips as he looked down on the lawn party going down below him. 

“Don’t you look happy, Sicheng.”

Sicheng acknowledged ChengCheng out of the corner of his eye and went back to glaring at the party in contempt.

“This is not how I wanted today to go.”

His childhood friend snorted and plopped himself down in a lawn chair, contemplating the blond haired man.

Sicheng spun around and picked up his glass of wine, downing the drink in one gulp. He settled himself next to ChengCheng with a frown.

“I just wanted to come here and fucking relax, but, no, my parents just had to use it for the fucking party. Fete. What-fucking-ever.” He exhaled loudly and ran his hands through his hair. 

Chengcheng looked over the balcony railing curiously. “Looks like a luncheon to me.”

“Fuck off.” 

“Christ, what’s up your ass?”

“Just some work stuff. It’s nothing.”

The brown-haired man frowned. “Then why aren’t you at Black’s then? Nothing can’t be resolved by a good fuck.”

At the mention of the club, a pained expression flashed over Sicheng’s face and his knuckles inadvertently tightened around the stem of his glass. The tension that had been in shoulders wounded itself up even more and this clued ChengCheng in.

Something other than work had Sicheng in knots. Very rarely did the blond man ever show he was angry—not even when his father lashed him as a child, nor when the family forced him to work for the company—so he was evidently very troubled by this ‘something’.

Sicheng’s phone rang and broke the silence. The man himself fished it out of his back pocket irritatedly.

“Excuse me for a moment, ChengCheng. I need to take this phone call.”

“Sicheng speaking,” he spoke as he stalked into the study.

“Hello sir, how are you—”

“Did you get the information or not?” Sicheng asked, cutting off the family’s retainer. His leg bounced, as he sat against the desk and he ran a weary hand through his hair.

“A-ah, unfortunately, Black’s doesn’t record pseudonyms digitally or on paper…”

“Fuck!” Sicheng yelled. Mr. Lau just had to be fucking careful, he thought irritably.

“... However, sir, I was able to obtain a membership list since the club was digitally updating their monthly list. I then compared it to the list from the previous month and found several missing names, indicative of them terminating their membership. I have compiled a dossier of several females that match your description of Dove and forwarded it to you.” 

Sicheng quickly logged into his laptop, his blood rushing through his ears. The identity of the most perfect submissive he’s ever had could literally be sitting in his inbox right now.

With trembling fingers, he opened the attachment.

Wang Fang, age 25—

“Sir?”

The blond man glared at his phone. “Thank you for your service, Liu Wei. Goodbye.”

Wang Fang was a tall, spindly woman with a face like a horse. The policy of privacy by masks was kind to her at Black’s. However, the jaw was all wrong and he knew in his gut she was not his Dove.

He scrolled to the next page. Leila Williams, age 27—British expat, was absolutely gorgeous. But, even through the screen, she exuded an unshakable aura of self-assurance. A dominatrix, probably, so that excluded her from his search.

He went through 2 or 3 more documents; each one too plain or too ordinary to be Dove.

Y/N L/N, age XX.

Sicheng blinked rapidly, sagging into his office chair.

Y/N is—was—a member at Black’s?

The picture provided was the one from her LinkedIn profile: a professional headshot with a grey background. She was smiling tightly, coldly—just as she was in the office. The other image provided instantly tented his pants.

It was her, clearly on a night out. She was in attire that flattered her body and he could easily see himself running his hands over her. Y/N looked fucking fantastic with her unbound hair, so unlike her tight updos at the office. However, what drew his eyes was the most vibrant shade of red painted on her lips, which was parted slightly as she was laughing.

He recognized that lipstick. The same shade of firetruck red had been smeared across Dove’s cheeks many, many times. YSL Rouge Satin Lipstick—the one he told her he liked and she, like a good girl, had religiously worn.

Could that mean…?

Glancing at the side bar, he noticed there was one more page left in the dossier. Please let the next one be Dove…

His hopes were instantly deflated. Kwon Myunghee was too old and too artificial to be his gorgeous submissive.

With his heart in his throat, he scrolled back to Y/N’s page. Enlarging the picture of her laughing, he put a hand over her eyes and leaned back to observe.

Sicheng would be an absolute fool if he did not recognize that mouth. Red fuck me! lipstick on an equally fuckable mouth parted in pleasure, or screaming his name while strung up on a cross. He would be an absolute fool if he did not recognize that neck, covered in purple and red hickies or his fingermarks. An absolute damn fool.

Yet, at this moment, he would’ve given anything to be one.

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Y/N was… Dove? And Dove… was Y/N?

So why did she leave? How did she end up at Black’s? Did she know? Did she end up there on purpose? Why—

Eventually, all the questions piled up in his head until he was left winded. Sicheng buried his head in his hands, pulling at his blond locks and breathing heavily. Something was bubbling in his chest and—

He started to laugh. He cackled, howled, at his shitstorm of misfortune, luck, and confusion until he was sprawled undignified on the Oriental carpet, staring up at the intricate wood carvings on the ceiling.

Monday February 3rd, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

6 PM HKT

Shutting the door to your office, you collapsed into your chair and massaged your temples.

Today was the day Mr. Lee had left the office, leaving his official resignation. The top sales officials (including an off-color, brooding Sicheng) gathered in his office to congratulate him and give him an official goodbye. What was supposed to be a quick meet-up turned into afternoon drinking when Mr. Lee pulled out the good liquor from a secret cabinet underneath his desk. You accepted a drink with a grimace, but Sicheng declined and remained uncharacteristically detached the entire time. Granted, you too were detached from the conversation, uncomfortable with the lewd retirement and mistress jeers spouted by the older sales officials as they steadily got drunker and less inhibited.

As the time ended and a consensus to leave had been reached, you thought you could escape and actually work... that was until Mr. Lee walked alongside you and stuck himself in the elevator with you.

The bastard had the audacity to grope your ass in the crowded elevator. You shivered, remembering the awful and grimy feeling as his hot breath whispered in your ear that he was available any time for a “catch-up”.

This day was a mess. You had a shit-ton of work to catch up due to that fucking meeting and you had been sexually harrassed; you were also anxious about the promotion and, on top of that, you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Sicheng.

Huffing, you ate some red-bean bread as you powered up your desktop. This was fucking ridiculous. You knew Sicheng had noticed your odd, reticent behavior around him and this skittishness was impeding your ability to work. Well, no better way to forget about your problems was to solve other ones at work.

For the next two hours, you slogged through work emails and analytics as the sun set over Kowloon Bay. Your hair had been unbound and your blazer had been messily thrown over the back of your chair as your work progressed. Since most of the office had left by now, you figured it was safe to relax in your office.

It was night time by the time you had finished your last project and you sat back in your chair, staring at the skyline. Was this how your life destined to be? At the top, surrounded by the comforts of life, but alone?

A knock sounded at the door, jolting you out of your thoughts.

Who the fuck would be at the office at 8 PM?

“Come in.”

You caught sight of a golden head of hair slipping inside of your office and you sighed. Of course, it was Sicheng.

He took a seat unbidden and stared at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. His eyes roamed the contours and curves of your features.

You arched an eyebrow. “Can I help you with anything, Sicheng? I’m about to leave the office.”

He fought with himself inwardly, his mouth opened and closed several times before he finally settled on what he wanted to say. “I’d like to ask a question.”

You adjusted yourself in the chair. “Feel free.”

From his blazer’s pocket, he pulled out an aged sheet of paper and slowly opened it, before setting it in front of you. Sicheng settled back in his chair and steepled his fingers over his lap, the lights of the Hong Kong skyline playing across his face and making his sharp features stand out.

“Do you recognize this?”

The blood literally froze in your veins as your eyes caught sight of your handwriting in the letter, along with the tear-stains that blotched the paper and the text. Your heartbeat rose to your throat and all you felt was the blood rushing in your ears.

“Y/N?” he prodded.

You gulped and straightened out your top, your fingers trembling as you did so.

“No, I don’t. W-who’s Dolos? Why does this concern me?” you lied, stumbling a bit.

He watched you, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed.

“Don’t lie to me, Dove.”

“I-Dove? My name is Y/N,” you replied shakily. Grabbing your purse, you hurriedly stuffed all your personal belongings in while avoiding catching his seething stare. “Excuse me, I’d really like to get home.”

His jaw clenched and his palm twitched as he saw you had no desire to come clean.

“Look at me.”

Unthinking, you ceased all movements, put your trembling hands in your lap and looked up at him. “Sir?”

Your eyes widened and you slapped a hand over your mouth; your eyes darted around the room in search for an escape. You felt akin to a caged animal as he grinned meanly, incongruous on his cherubic features.

“That’s what I thought.”

“No—”

“You thought you could get away with this? You thought you could fucking play me?!”

You were aghast at seeing Dolos and Sicheng finally merging together in front of your eyes, and the result was grotesquely beautiful. His grin slipped off his face and twisted into a malevolent sneer. The naked fire in Dolos' gaze was finally unveiled in Sicheng’s eyes and, for the first time, you could see who Sicheng really was.

“Answer me, Dove—Y/N! Fuck, I don’t even know who you are anymore!” Sicheng shouted, running his hands through his hair while he paced around your office.

You stared unblinkingly at the bookshelf at the corner of the room. Fuck, this was all your nightmares coming true. You were going to be ruined and he was going to laugh on and on now that he knew you and Dove were the same.

“It was never supposed to end up like this,” you whispered hoarsely, tears welling up underneath your lashes.

“How was it supposed to end, huh? Fuck, you strung me along for six months—half a fucking year—”

“I didn’t fucking know, you ass! I wouldn’t have touched you with a ten foot pole if I knew who you were!” you hissed.

He laughed harshly. “You did a hell of a lot more than touch me, Dove. But after you got your fix, you pretended that this never happened.”

“You would’ve done the same, so this never did happen. Walk out right now and this will have never happened and we can go back to our normal, spiteful dynamic—”

“You’re out of your fucking mind, if you think—”

“You don’t understand, Sicheng! Can’t you see I’ll be ruined by this? That we’ll both be ruined by this? I can’t afford that!”

“So you thought to just leave me? With just a fucking letter and nothing else?”

“I didn’t know, okay! I didn’t know what to do!”

“You lied to me, Y/N. Fucking lied to my face!”

“I had to! Because you and I were never supposed to find out!”

Sicheng moved to yell, but clamped his jaw shut. “You lying, cheating, slut,” he seethed.

Your mouth trembled for a moment at the sheer vitriol that sprouted from his lips, but you stood tall. “You know what? Maybe I am. But I can live with that if you’d just fucking let it go!”

“You think I’d be able to let go of this?!” He cupped your jaw roughly and pulled you into a hungry kiss.

It wasn’t a smooth kiss—not one with even a hint of finesse. Lips smashed into lips, with tongue and teeth grappling against each other as his hands bruised your wrists.

Your back hit your desk and he swept your belongings off the desk haphazardly, letting go of your chin to lift you onto the desk with no effort.

“Forget my tongue on your skin? Forget my hands in between your thighs?” he murmured between hungry dips of his tongue. “I’ll fucking show you.”

He kissed down your neck, stopping to nip at your collarbone, and left a trail of stinging lovebites all over your shoulders. Sicheng’s hips pinned you into the desk as he popped each button of your blouse, hurriedly ripping it to the side to leave more hickies upon your chest and breasts.

You moaned as he pushed the cups of your bra down, using his wicked tone to swipe complicated patterns but never once touching your tips. Finally, he nipped at them hard causing you to squeal embarrassingly.

“S-sicheng,” you whimpered, gripping his hair as he pushed up your skirt.

The blond man carelessly pulled your underwear aside and thrusted two fingers in.

“Fuck!” you gasped, as you buried your red face in the crook of his neck.

You couldn’t see it, but you knew he was smirking smugly so your hands drifted down to his tented trousers and gripped his erection hard.

“You wanna fucking play? Let’s play, baby,” he grunted and hastily unbuckled his belt. His glorious cock sprung up in the space between your thighs.

Sicheng pushed your back down onto the desk, leaving him to tower over you. Without warning, he roughly pushed his cock into your slit.

You both groaned at the pleasurable friction. Fuck, how could you forget this? His length stretching you out deliciously? His broad shoulders heaving in exertion?

He bottomed out slowly, stilling as his hips pressed into yours. A sly smile glanced over his face as his hand drifted over your neck.

“Sicheng! You asshole, fucking move!” you said to him, thrusting your own hips weakly for effect.

His devilish smile split his angelic features, and he shook his head. “Wrong name, Dove.”

His hips pushed into yours roughly and you whined, scratching at the edges of your desk. Sicheng withdrew just as quickly and thrusted in again, watching the lust ripple upon your expression. He had missed the way your left eyebrow ticked when he brushed against your G-Spot, your nose scrunching as you clasped his shoulders. Finally seeing your full expressions fulfilled something in him that he didn’t care to reflect upon.

After deep, staccato thrusts that had you gasping for breath, he settled into a smooth rhythm. You slapped a hand over your mouth as your back bowed, thrusting your breasts up to his hungry perusal. Unable to resist temptation—the godless Tantalus he was—he settled his plump lips over your nipples, raised his eyes to yours, and sucked.

Even with your palm practically stuffed in your lips, your keen echoed around the room loudly and slick dripped down your thighs, making the desk underneath your bottom sticky and wet.

He tsked, lifting his head up and looked deeply into your eyes. A slight grin settled over his lips and Sicheng tilted his head mockingly. “Oh sweet girl, haven’t you forgotten we’re in an office?” His eyes darkened even more. “I’ll have to keep you quiet, then, whore.”

His featherlight touches on your rib cage was replaced with a bruising grasp to your throat, stealing the air out of you. His wrist settled into your collar bone and his slender fingers mimicked playing the piano, placing pressure on different parts on your throat to an unheard rhythm. The blood rushed to your ears, the dizzying sensation of it blurring your sight and distorting your thoughts. The veins on his forehand, twisting and rippling in the light, caught your vision and he moved—ever so roughly—into you.

Sicheng set a new pace, stretching your legs even wider and your head fell back onto the desk with a thunk. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe; you just felt the numbing sort of pleasure that radiated from your pussy.

“Fucking slut,” he gasped. “You’ve bewitched me, haven’t you? Wrapped yourself around my brain and haven’t let me so much as breathe without thinking about you.” His grip tightened around your neck. “I’ll show you.”

Suddenly, your phone on the floor rang and you both froze. He released the grip on your neck and bent down.

His back was like one of those old sketches the masters of the age practiced with, the light played upon his back and his muscles rippled under his skin—belying the power hidden within him.

“Who the fuck is Kunhuang,” he said flatly, wrath bubbling in his words.

You sat up. “H-he’s a friend. Nobody. No one.” 

“See you soon, love,” he read mockingly. “Call me when you have time.”

Sicheng crowded into your space, your eyes jumping around to avoid looking at his incensed face.

“Kunhuang.” He spat like it was filth upon his lips. “You left me for him?”

Feeling his constrained fierceness and his frantic gaze, you pushed harshly at his chest and bared your teeth at him. “It’s not like that. He’s my childhood friend!”

His rage bubbled to the surface and his nostrils flared. It was all the warning you had before he suddenly took your hips and flipped, forcing a scream out of you.

Your chest and breasts now pressed against your desk. Sicheng tugged you down to his hips, lifting one of your legs to rest on your desk and exposed your core to him shamefully. 

“I’ll take you from behind like the whore you are,” he stated. His rough tenor the grating upon your ears and scraping upon your skin.

He lined up and thrusted hard and you bit your lip, cheek against your deck and tears streaming down your face. It felt so good to be in his embrace, feeling every vein and ridge of his cock rub against your muscles.

Soon, you felt that feeling rising in your stomach, burning behind his eyelids as your orgasm began to build. His hands grasped your throat and he pulled, bowing your back to his chest and forcing his mouth to yours.

Teeth and tongue clashed and his cock hit this spot in you and you screamed into his mouth, tensing up beneath him as you shuddered painfully.

A grunt left him as he felt your muscles nearly strangle his cock and he only lasted a few, staccato thrusts until his vision went white.

Wednesday, February 13th, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

7 AM HKT

You purposely did not look into Sicheng’s office window as you strode briskly down the hall with a coffee in your hand. 

A few days ago felt like a watershed moment, but after you two had caught your breaths, the sheer amount of emotions in the room—frustration, satiation, anger, hunger—weighed upon your lips and forced them shut. He had quickly dressed himself, not saying a word, but he casted a glance in your direction that was undecipherable and left.

You, at the moment, did not know how to feel. Hurt? Angry? Sad? But you settled upon your usual solution: ignoring that anything had happened and resuming the normal.

Alas, the fates were unkind. They neatly disposed of your plans to avoid the man when the two of you were scheduled to meet with other sales heads in the afternoon. Unfortunately, when the time came to be, you and Sicheng were the first ones there.

He studiously avoided looking at you, busying himself by opening up his laptop and flipping to a new page on his legal pad. You ignored him as well, scrolling through the latest news on your webpage. However, as the seconds ticked by, you could not resist resting your eyes upon him. It felt like a damn magnet was pulling your gaze to him.

He looked good today, from the brief glances you stole at him. Freshly shaven, his hair was styled neatly and he was in a dark green, cashmere sweater. Was this your fate? To be shamefully attracted to a man that equally repelled you?

“Interesting.”

The both of you shot a look at the door, where an unrecognizable, lanky man with a proud, straight nose was peering down upon you and swinging a plastic bag in his hand.

“Chengcheng? What the hell are you doing here?”

Completely ignoring Sicheng, he settled his lidded gaze upon you before his eyes lit up in recognition.

“So you’re the one that has shaken him, then.”

Dead silence permeated the room. He looked at the two shocked faces, both ashen. “What? Are you going to tell me I’m wrong? Please. I’d have to be deaf, blind, and dumb to ignore the way you two gravitate to each other.”

Your two quick glances that were meant to be unnoticed clashed, resulting in your eyes meeting. You both turned your eyes away.

Chengcheng snorted, as if that moment confirmed everything for him, and he chucked a bag at Sicheng.

“You forgot your lunch, remember?”

Sicheng’s jaw tightened. “Thank you.”

Once again, awkward silence reigned and ChengCheng’s eyes switched back and forth between you like a particularly exciting tennis match.

“You two need to talk. You’ll both age prematurely at this rate, with the angst you two are producing. Talk.”

He left with a wave, striding down the hall casually and stealing many of your female coworkers’ gazes.

“... He’s right, you know.”

Sicheng’s eyes flicked up to yours and he focused his full attention on you. Intensely, he contemplated you, tongue poking at the sides of his mouth.

“I agree. We can meet—” he cut himself off, looking around surreptitiously. “—at Black’s.”

You sucked your lip in between your teeth. “Fine. Neutral ground.”

He took a good, long look at you, like a man seeing water after seeing nothing but sand. 

“Tonight. At 8.”

Thursday, February 13th, 2020

Black’s

7:50 PM HKT

Strangely enough, you felt comfortable despite the jittery nerves under your skin as you walked into Black’s. 

The receptionist had given you a knowing look as you repeated the guest password, letting you in without question. You strapped on the standard, white lace mask and steeled yourself, opening the mahogany doors.

The club was abnormally busy; the guests and members crowded the couches and loitered on the floor. The quiet string music that could usually be heard was masked by the loud chattering of the people in the room.

“Is that you, Dove?”

You spun around to see the smiling, wizened face of Mr. Liu.

A grin broke out on your face and you took his hands. “Mister Liu! It is wonderful to see you.”

“I am happy to see you as well.” He chuckled with his eyes gleaming fondly at you. “Have you decided to visit this old man?”

Playfully, you lightly smacked his shoulder.

Mr. Liu was an important figure to you. All those months ago, when you arrived at Black’s to be screened, as a potential member and straight out of a relationship with Minghao—broken, shattered, hollow—he took one look at you and said no.

Why? You remembered asking tearfully. Am I not pretty enough? Rich enough?

He searched your pale, wan face, as if seeing the emotional scars Minghao had lashed into you, before sighing.

You shouldn’t be asking me that. Are you enough for yourself?

Confused, you had asked him to elaborate. He sympathetically replied that he could see you were entering the club for the wrong reasons. You were different, he’d said. You looked so innocent that he could not morally allow you into the club, despite the depraved patrons that gained membership. He knew, at the time, entering the club would cripple you.

So, what now? You asked, confused. He said he would keep your file open until you came back ‘at the right time.’

The ‘right time?’

You will know it when it comes.

And somehow, you did. After a few months of picking the pieces of yourself together and stabilizing your life, you had grown into a physically and emotionally healthy person. The “right moment” came and you sat in his quaint little office again, opposite of a smiling Mr. Liu as he stamped his approval.

After chatting a few moments, the volume in the room increased slightly and you frowned.

“Why is it so busy today?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you know what today is?”

“No?”

“Today is the evening before Valentine’s day, dear girl.”

“... Oh.”

New information in hand, you looked at the scene more closely. You could see that some couples in the crowd seemed to curl into each other, the affectionate brushes and knowing glances giving you a sick, sick feeling.

And that’s when you saw Sicheng.

Even masked, he drew attention from the members—attached and non-attached. His lean, fit form struck a figure and you couldn’t turn away from him.

He looked directly into your eyes and only a few seconds passed by as you two observed each other.

“Sicheng somehow found out, hm? Clever, devious boy.” Mr. Liu observed the dynamic much like ChengCheng earlier. His gaze was enraptured how the two of you clashed yet sunk into each other, the way two tidal waves—in a rare moment of offbeat rhythm—struck each other and subsequently merged. Push, pull, push, pull.

“Listen to him and he will listen to you. You two match more than you think,” he advised, bowed, and sunk off into the backrooms.

“Sicheng.”

“Y/N.”

Frustratingly, his face was unreadable. Nevertheless, he offered you his arm (a surprising show of manners) and he led you to a place you had never seen before.

This place was much less pristine than the rest of the club. The wallpaper was older, much more faded, and the wood looked much more worn.

This was one of Mr. Liu’s apartments.

The pair of you entered a comfortable sitting room with the lights low, to which only large candles had been lit.

He made sure you were properly ensconced into an armchair before he turned his back towards you and made his way to the drink carts.

“Would you like something to drink?” Sicheng asked, voice measured.

“A gin tonic would be wonderful.”

After carefully making your drink and pouring himself a healthy 4 fingers of bourbon, he handed your glass to you and sat down in the chair opposite of you.

Silence permeated awkwardly and you turned your eyes towards the tapestry in the middle of the room, giving yourself something to do.

“Were those feelings true?” he asked, not looking at you.

“Elaborate, please.”

“The last night…” He looked quickly at you, before turning his eyes away and clenching his jaw. “The last night we were together.”

“Ah.”

Absolutely, unequivocally. Dolos was everything you had searched for in Minghao and, while your relationship was unusual, you could not deny the string between you two.

Something burned at your eyes and you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Yes. Then and now,” you stated, opening yourself up for an attack.

His eyes widened and the twitching in his fingers stopped.

“And you, Sicheng?” you enquired boldly.

“Always,” he stated without hesitation. “It was never something as trivial as pillow talk.”

Seeing as he was on the brink of closing off, due to his rare moment of vulnerableness, you wrapped your hand around his.

His eyes shot to yours, then to your linked hands, before tightening his grip.

“I don’t know where to start,” you confessed. “I… One thing that has always been on my mind—why did you dislike me so much?”

He smiled bitterly. “Sometimes, I forget that you don’t see the way I see you. You are a smart, dauntless woman, who’s pushed all my buttons. It all just built and built upon each other until I found you—Dove—here.” He pauses. “I projected my frustrations onto Dove—you—here. But never, for a moment, doubt my feelings aren’t genuine.”

You pursed your lips. “Forgive me, but I cannot accept your accusations of me being the office slut—very rude, by the way—were without malice. You constantly pushed me down, clashed with me in the workplace and you were just plain classist.”

Sicheng’s eyes were casted down, but his grip was steady. “I will not lie. Those words I spat at you were with malice. But now, in retrospect, they were nothing more but words of immature frustration that I channeled towards you. I know that I cannot take them back and they will forever linger in the air between us, but I can apologize and recognize those words were completely unacceptable.”

He angled his body fully towards you and clasped your hand in both of his. “I am sorry for my actions. My anger was misplaced and the sentiments do not represent me anymore. I am sorry and I hope you can forgive me.”

“And then what? What do you want now, Sicheng?” An edge of desperation tinged your voice.

He smiled bitterly at you. “Everyday, the smell of you lingers and I, like Pavlov’s dog, cannot help but feel an ache in the marrow of my bones when I see your crimson red lips. Every night, when I go to bed, you are seared across the back of my eyelids and I cannot escape you, even in my dreams.” He paused. “I want you, or whatever scraps you’re willing to toss me.”

A sharp exhale left you nose and you blinked rapidly. “I don’t want to get hurt. You get off on hurting people.”

“With your consent.”

“Say I want a completely vanilla relationship,” you challenged. He didn’t flinch. “What about then?”

Sicheng clenched his jaw and held your gaze fiercely. “Anything.”

“I hate that you are all I’ve wanted in a man,” you admitted unwillingly. He hummed. “Will we be each other’s destruction? Or will we be each other’s maker?” you pondered nonsensically.

“Aren’t we already both?” he retorted.

Slowly, without releasing his hand, you rose from your chair and lowered yourself into his lap. His eyes traced your every movement. For a few, brief moments, you looked into each other’s eyes without the obsurance of a mask or the encumbrance of a workplace rivalry. Your left hand cupped his cheekbone and stroked the skin underneath his eye.

“This will be interesting,” you said.

He gave no sign of reaction, but tilted his head into your palm and closed his eyes. “After us, the flood,” he recited.

Monday, March 2nd, 2020

Sinochen Enterprises, Chater House, Central, Hong Kong

7:50 PM HKT

A secret grin tugged at your lips as you looked across the table at Sicheng, who was intensely focused on the presentation your coworker was giving. Perhaps he’d felt the weight of your gaze on him as he chanced a glance at you and gave you a small smirk.

The past month in your relationship with Sicheng was equally fulfilling and frustrating. There were times where both of you deliberately looked for a fight or misinterpreted each other, but there were also times you could shed your layers and just be yourselves with the other.

Even each fight, where you or Sicheng stormed out, or broke things, you came back to each other at the end. Pushing, pulling, pushing, pulling relentlessly. The flood, indeed.

You focused back in on the meeting and contributed to the smatter of clapter for the end of your coworker’s presentation. As he turned off the projector and people stood up to leave,  Xiao Daiyu—the interim head of the Sales department—stopped you and Sicheng.

“Y/N, Sicheng, please stay back for a moment. I’d like to talk to you about Mr. Lee’s replacement.”

You and Sicheng glanced at each other and you sat back down. A while ago, you had both agreed the decision wasn’t going to break the quiet relationship you had built. It was going to be sour. You knew, when someone was chosen, things could get messy and awkward. But this… this was too good.

Daiyu sat down and put her hands together. “After much decision and going through your interviews, the CEO has stepped in and we are sorry to say neither of you are getting the position.”

You jerked your head around to Sicheng and he did the same—wild confusion and anger in both of your eyes. Both your years of loyalty and dedication are being passed over?

“Instead, we have decided to hire outside the company for some fresh intake. He may be young, but it comes to us that he’s highly recommended and would fit in with our culture well.”

A sour feeling came to your stomach and you narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to frown. They had decided to hire outside the company? This is how they decide to reward their workers? This was betrayal.

Glancing over, you could see Sicheng felt the same. His right hand grasped the arm of the chair tightly and you could see his knuckles turning white.

“I’d like to meet him and he’s coming—” She took a glance at her watch. “—right about now.”

A knock came from the door and a head of messy black hair peaked into the room.

“Daiyu laoban, great to see you.”

No. This could not be happening to you.

The wire glasses. The tall, lanky frame that filled the doorway. The almond shaped eyes hiding behind pitch-black hair, as black his shriveled little heart.

Daiyu, like the little bitch she was, giggled. “Y/N, Sicheng, please meet your new Sales Head: Xu Minghao.”

His eyes focused on you and your world suddenly felt tilted, careening sideways while the nausea hit you all at once.

“Nice to meet you,” he said cheerfully.

You could feel Sicheng’s concern radiating from him at your ashen face and look of shock, but you couldn't even think as flashes of blood and tears and pain shuddered throughout your body.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m pleased to be working with you!”

(”After us, the flood” or “Aprés nous, le deluge” is an expression from Madame Pompadour, King Louis XV’s lover.)

And it’s finished. Thank you. Please don’t forget to read, comment, and reblog. I love you all and goodbye.

#sicheng #winwin #nct smut #nct x reader #winwin smut #nct fanfic #sicheng x reader #winwin x reader #sicheng smut #wayv #wayv smut #nct 127 #taeil #johnny #yuta #taeyong #jaehyun #ten #lucas #hendery #doyoung

[chubbyreaderwriter]

Bite Me Pt3

ask and you shall receive 

Elizabeth/The Countess x Plus Size/Chubby Reader x James March

Imagine: Elizabeth and James are both attracted to you and each of them want to have you for themselves.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: swearing, attempted drug use, assault 

Masterlist 

Part 1 Part 2 

You’d tried to stay away from the Cortez after your moment with Elizabeth, but you kept finding yourself heading towards it. No matter how much you wished you could leave, fate pulled you back in through those doors, into that familiar lobby. You gave up pretending that you kept coming back to see Will. You’d returned quite a few times and had yet to see your friend. You weren’t overly eager to see Elizabeth or James just yet either, you just felt like you belonged within the walls of the Cortez, like it had claimed you as one of their own. 

You were currently sat at the bar, sipping away at a vodka and coke, staring down at your nearly empty glass with a bored expression on your face. A look that attracted the attention of a woman sat at the end of the bar. You heard movement and turned your head slightly to be able to see her moving into the seat right next to you. You’d seen her briefly around the hotel a couple of times but never long enough to ask for her name. Your voice slurred ever so slightly as you said, “Don’t tell me, you’re a ghost too.” She scoffed, taking a drink of her own, “No shit, how’d you figure that one out?” You shrugged your shoulders, “Just a hunch.” You leaned back a little too far in your stool and had to quickly grip onto the bar to stop yourself from falling over, feeling your heart race from nearly falling. 

She put her hand on yours, “You’ve got to be more careful baby.” She grinned at you and you smiled back. She moved closer, so close you could smell the smoke on your breath and you had to hold back a cough. Her hand found its way onto the top of your thigh, “You wanna come back with me to my room, don’t you baby.” You reached for your glass and downed the rest of your drink, taking a deep breath to get rid of the weird feeling at the back of your throat, “Why not? If you tell me your name first.” She leaned in close, her lips against your ear, “Sally.” She gently tugged your earlobe between her teeth and swiped her tongue over your neck before pulling away. 

Your drunken mind took a little longer to process what just happened, remaining still and silent in your seat for a few seconds before you gave Sally a grin, “Hello Sally, I’m (Y/N).” She smirked, “Oh I know who you are, the whole hotel knows your name sweetpea.” You didn’t think to question what she meant by that, only focusing on hopping off your stool without falling over. You felt a hand grab your wrist and you turned to see Liz holding you, “Are you sure you want to go through with that, you’re too drunk to see how pathetic she is.” Sally glared at her and you shook you arm free, “Stop it Liz, that’s not nice. I’m sure Sally is a lot more fun than sitting at a bar by myself like a loser.” 

Sally wrapped her arm around your shoulder as she lead you over to the elevator, “Exactly, I’m gonna show you a real fun time tonight baby, you’re gonna love me.” You only giggled as she spun you away from Liz and into the elevator to take you up to her room. In the elevator, you managed to trip over your own feet and would have hit your head against the elevator door had Sally not caught you in time, pulling you against her, “You need to be more careful, can’t have you hurting yourself before we have any fun.” 

You didn’t say anything in response, only watching her lips as they got closer and closer to yours. You felt your heart beating so fast, it felt like it was going to shoot out of your chest. It didn’t feel the same as when Elizabeth kissed you, it felt wrong. You turned your head to the side to get away but she easily grabbed your face to turn you back, kissing you roughly, pushing you back against the wall, “Don’t change your mind now baby, we haven’t gotten to the fun part yet. Don’t you wanna have fun with Sally? Don’t you love me?” Your drunken mind wasn’t able to think of a response, but you felt your eyes start to well up, regretting this decision. Why didn’t you listen to Liz? 

The elevator opened and Sally grabbed a hold of your arm, dragging you along the corridor to her room where she wasted no time pulling you inside. You stumbled in and she took you over to the bed where she lightly pushed your shoulder, the pressure enough to confuse your reflexes to prevent you from saving yourself as you fell onto the soft cover of the bed. You closed your eyes briefly but opened them as you felt Sally crawling on top of you, straddling your waist. She gripped your left arm in her hand and held up a syringe with the other, “Don’t worry baby, a few hits of this and you’ll love me in no time.” You saw tears streaming down her face and almost felt sorry for her, if she wasn’t currently trying to inject drugs into you. 

Finally, you had the common sense to scream, “HELP! I-” Sally covered your mouth, glaring down at you, “Shut up! You promised, you’re gonna thank me for this, it’s gonna be the best fucking thing you’ve ever experienced.” She moved up to kneel on your arms, making you cry out more from the pain, it being muffled by her hand. You tried to struggle more as you watched the needle get closer and closer, kicking but you weren’t strong enough to kick your legs up to knock Sally off you. Your own tears streamed down your face as you gave up fighting and waited for the inevitable, but it didn’t happen. You looked up to see Sally being strangled by two hands but you weren’t in a position to see who those hands belonged to. 

She was thrown to the side of the room, away from you where she glared at James in the corner, “Asshole, she was mine!” You shook with each breath you took, closing your eyes as you saw Elizabeth approach into your line of sight from behind James. You didn’t want them to see you like this, you were so embarrassed. You felt two soft hands hold your cheeks and thumbs wiping away your tears, “Come on darling, lets go.” Her voice was as soft as her touch as she spoke to you, leading you out of Sally’s room and taking you up to her own apartment. You awkwardly stood in the doorway, holding your left arm and looking down at the ground, sobered up and feeling lower than low. You were angry that you let yourself be taken advantage of like that, there were so many ways you could have stopped it from happening. 

Elizabeth walked you over to the couch where she sat you down and made you lie down with your head in her lap. She stroked your hair slowly, lightly scraping your nails along your scalp in such a relaxing way you felt as though she was compelling you to sleep. You forced yourself to stay away though, straining your ears to hear what she was saying, “You’re safe now, my sweet. You’ll always be safe with us.” You briefly heard a set of footsteps approach but it was clear who it was by the voice that filled the silence, “The fiend is being punished as we speak, she will never dare to think about touching (Y/N) again.” Elizabeth hummed in almost disinterest, not really caring about anything now that she had you with her now. There was only a second of silence before she spoke, “Leave us James.” You suspected there was an exchanging of looks in place of a conversation but your eyes felt too heavy to open to see. You only heard the retreating footsteps of James walking away. 

You weren’t exactly sure when you fell asleep but you were alone when you woke up. It looked dark outside but there were a few lights around the room so you could see. You rubbed your eyes and blinked a couple times to focus your eyes before you got up and left the room, being as quiet as possible not to attract anymore attention. You headed downstairs, prepared to walk outside and back to your small apartment but as you approached the stairs, you felt anxious almost, like there was something dangerous on the other side. You stepped closer to the door and felt a pain in your head, making your press your palms against your forehead. Dizziness crept up out of nowhere, making you sit down on one of the lobby chairs but no soon as it started, the pain stopped. You looked around but only saw Iris at the front desk flicking through the pages of some kind of magazine or catalogue.

She gave you a brief look, “It’ll be all that drinking you were doing last night. You kids never learn.” You groaned and felt another wave of tiredness come over you. Without really thinking about it, you moved to curl yourself up into the chair, your legs hanging over the edge and your arms wrapped around yourself. Your eyes closed by themselves, too heavy to keep open any longer. To you, it felt as though a second had passed but in reality, it was about four in the morning, a few hours after you had fallen asleep. You were being shaken gently at first but it got rougher as you didn’t wake up. You let out a disgruntled whine as you moved to sit up, opening your eyes to see a little boy in front of you. You hadn’t seen him before, you’d remember a little boy with long white hair like the one standing in front of you. He stared at you and you stared back at him, until he finally tilted his head to the side and said, “Are you Mommy’s friend?” “Uh, that depends. Who’s your Mommy?” He looked down, “My Mommy has white hair like mine and dresses real nice but my other Mommy has blonde hair and her name is Alex.” 

Alex? You recognised that name, wasn’t she- “Oh, you must be Holden. It’s nice to meet you.” Liz had told you about John and his wife as well as their kid who stayed here with Elizabeth. You were a little weary of the way this kid kept looking at your bare wrists so you pulled your sleeves down to hide them from his view. He didn’t say anything else before he ran away and you thought that was the end of the conversation when he stopped at the top of the stairs and waved you over to follow him. You got up and walked after him, seeing that he was waiting for you. You didn’t really want to go on some kind of adventure right now, you were still exhausted, but you didn’t want to disappoint this kid. 

You’d been lead down a number of hallways, corridors and passageways that you were getting sick of it, “Where are we going?” Holden finally slowed down and stopped in front of a wall that looked the same as all the others in the hotel. You were confused as he pushed on it and it opened, revealing a bright light behind it that showed a whole new room. Your curiosity got the better of you as you slowly stepped inside, taking it all in. The walls were the whitest shade you’ve ever seen and there was lots of video games, candy and toys all over the place. You were standing in one place until Holden came along and grabbed your hand, leading you over to a large white couch where he sat you down in between him and a little girl who also had long white hair. 

You didn’t question it, just accepting whatever this was, smiling as you were handed a controller. At first, you had enough energy to pretend that you were interested in the game but your body slowly began to grow tired again and it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep again, your head rolling back into a position you would regret in the morning. The two children next to you continued to play their game. They knew they weren’t allowed to feed from ‘Mommy’s’ friends so they had to ignore the sleeping woman next to them. 

When Elizabeth found you asleep in the play room for her children, one still either side of you, she knew she wasn’t going to let you go. You had accepted her children, a part of her that not many had the heart to acknowledge but you did. She smiled as she woke you up, telling her children to go play elsewhere for a while. They left and Elizabeth took the opportunity to sit on your lap, holding your head in her hands. You slowly woke up and immediately groaned from pain, your neck sore and aching. You were startled to say the least to see Elizabeth on top of you, placing your hands by your sides and trying to sit up straight to make more room between the two of you. Her gloved hand gently stroked your cheek, making you blush and clear your throat, “I’m sorry, did you need something?” Elizabeth stared at you with a thoughtful expression, “Why do you avoid me? I know you can feel the connection between us.” 

Her words left you speechless. Truth be told, you didn’t really have an answer for her. This whole experience just felt like a dream, as though any second now you were going to wake up and it would all be over as if nothing happened. You opened your mouth, wanting to say something, then closed it again, looking down into your lap. Elizabeth grabbed your cheeks and turned your head up to look at her, a silent demand to answer her question. You sighed, “I don’t deserve it.” If Elizabeth was shocked or upset, her face didn’t show it, she was as stoic as a marble statue and just as beautiful. After a few moments of carefully studying your face, she leaned down, “Oh darling, but you do.” You looked into each other’s eyes as the distance between you two got shorter and shorter. Your breath hitched just as she placed her lips on yours and your hands balled up into tight fists. As if she could sense your nervousness, her hands covered your own and placed them onto her hips, her hands returning to your cheek and the back of your neck, holding you in place as she kissed you. This time, you didn’t stop her, feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. 

To be continued...

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