#and its been really hot out so shes wearing all kinds of tiny shorts and skirts

[lavenderedhoney]

Speaking of my baby's hips, she's definitely starting to develop a little bit of an hourglass figure and I love it so fucking much. The other day she wore a tight bodycon dress and I could not stop staring 👀

#shes SO gorgeous #and its been really hot out so shes wearing all kinds of tiny shorts and skirts #makes my fingers itch to be inside her #text #baby 💖

[theshyspy]

(𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭) 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 - 𝐡.𝐬

summary: in which yn is heartbroken and has a panic attack and Harry comforts her

a/n: i had a really clear plan for this from the beginning. it this that plan? no because I can't stick to plans either way I think it turned out kinda good so you should probably read.

(please like and reblog and send in some feedback. it honestly helps and means so much more than you think even if its a little tag or an emoji <3)

check out my masterlist✨

You didn’t think it would be much of a problem when your best friend, Hannah,  moved in with her boyfriend and his roommate. But, of course, back then you had no plan on falling for the hot roommate, nor ending up as his girlfriend. It wouldn’t have been much of a…situation, hadn’t life pulled you in different directions and left you with a broken heart. 

  The cosy apartment had been like a second home, most of your nights spent safe in his arms as he gently played with your hair and lulled you to sleep. The softness of his voice and gentle words engraved in your memory. 

It was just so easy giving him your everything. You had never felt so safe in love - casually wearing your heart on your sleeve everyday. 

But now? You found the qhostlyness of the whole situation unbearable, always figuring that if you ever were to break up, you’d at least remain acquaintances. Never did you imagine how he’d make sure to be out whenever you visited or refuse to show up at events if you were there. 

However, today was too big of a deal for your presence to matter. Your best friends engagement was being celebrated and you swore that you’d be civil. For the first time in what felt like forever, you’d be in the same, old apartment together.  It was only a couple of hours, and part of your being was convinced you could deal with it.

  It was only seconds, but it felt like minutes as you stood hesitantly outside the apartment complex. The nerves crippled through you, almost swallowing the bittersweet excitement you’d nourished the past weeks. Two of your best friends were celebrating their engagement, and you refused to let anything ruin the festive evening.

Taking in a sharp breath, you relaxed your tensed shoulders as you pressed the doorbell. It didn't take long until Hannah's voice erupted from the tiny speaker, welcoming you as the door opened. 

Getting up the all too short flight of stairs, their front door came into view. You dried away the sweat forming in your palms before knocking, in a matter of seconds it swung open and revealed your best friend. Grinning, she ushered you inside and engulfed you in a side hug. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, letting you go as you took off and hung the small coat you brought with you. 

Smiling sympathetically, her voice softened before she continued. “But, just know you don’t need to stay, okay? Mark and I understand if it gets too hard or if you need to get out.”

Your eyes stayed glued at your coat as you offered a halfhearted smile. The gentleness in her tone tugged at your heartstrings, and having no faith in your voice, you kept quiet. 

She knew you well enough to let it be as she quickly changed the topic again. “That dress looks amazing on you by the way. I'm glad I talked you into buying it.”

Snorting, you let her wrap an arm around your shoulders and lead you into the kitchen.

You grasped that you should’ve been thankful for the kindness and loving consideration. Knowing the soft spoken proposition came from nothing but pureness. But it was useless fighting the feeling as you found the compassion rather belittling. Embarrassed you were considered in need of reassurance while he so obviously were over you. 

You’d been without him for so long, and not a day went by without you beating yourself up over how you let the memories of him keep holding in a chokehold. Why let him continue to break your heart - desperately hoping he’ll regret it - when he so clearly wouldn’t? 

Theoretically, you knew she was the last person to ever judge you or your grieving process. But the fact that he had moved on, and you still found it hard not to break down as his voice played over the radio, was nothing but embarrassing.  

  Moving into the crowd, the humid air quickly embraced your bare arms. A distinct scent of alcohol travelled through the room, and your throat itched as it hit you. Partly in need for something to cool you down and for something to ease your throbbing heart.

Dancing queen blared through the speakers, and the “small gathering” Hannah had gone on and on about turned out to be anything but small. The optimistic side of you figured it was a good thing though, seeing how it lowered your chance of running into him. 

You could just picture him, looking so effortlessly cool and completely unbothered by your presence.  His body moving in that ridiculous way he insisted was dancing, but you both knew wasn't. Just knocking the air out of your chest as he cruelly reminded you of the times you missed.

“Here.” 

Hannah’s loud voice was barely audible over the bass as she pulled you out of your thoughts. Waving a beer in front of your face, she grinned as you took it and gulped it down.

You normally wouldn’t, but you had no intentions on dealing with nerves keeping you on high alert. The night would be impossible to enjoy if you were to spend every second staring at the door, waiting for him to waltz in. 

As the effect of your second and third bottle slowly oozed in, the night passed in a blur. You hadn’t felt that relaxed for weeks as his new songs had played over and over at the radio, (making the task of shutting him out impossible). You could block him on every platform and permanently remove his number from your phone, but what good did it do when the world seemed content reminding you he was out there, and thriving.

But now the alcohol was cursing through your veins, and you enjoyed the feeling. Swinging to the music and having your mind rest on anything other than him. It was nice, really nice.

Until he graced the corners of your eyes, demanding your attention and sobering you up.  

He moved in the corner, away from the crowd with a girl by his side as they swayed to the music. Your heart dropped, every little piece of your body tensing up as you watched the scene. His hands were wrapped around her waist, the gentle grip he’d held you with a million times before. You could still feel his touch, the softness engraved in your mind. 

As much as you wanted to, it was impossible to tear away your gaze. The scene burned itself into your brain and there wasn't a doubt in your mind it would haunt you for months. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as his wild eyes met yours. With a burning sensation in your lungs you forced in a sharp breath as the room suddenly seemed too small for the both of you. 

Automatically, your hand flew to the necklace resting on your collarbones and rubbed the hard material. The simple motion grounding you as your stomach twisted in the awfully familiar way.

It almost hurt, the way your heart slammed against your chest and your pulse rang in your ears. You must’ve been quite a sight, standing wide-eyed and tense.

Yet his expression felt gentle and familiar and you couldn’t help but long for the times he calmed the unease in your chest with a similar look. 

Overwhelmed, you forced your eyes away and turned to Hannah. With a tight smile plastered on your lips, you mouthed how you needed some air as you tried to keep your cool. She must’ve been a little drunk, because she only sent you a thumbs up and grinned. You didn’t think much of it as you pushed through the flock surrounding you within a second of her response.  

A few concerned glances were sent your way, and hadn’t it been for the high-pitched ring echoing through your ears, you would’ve minded. But you were too occupied dealing with tightened airways as you shut the apartment door behind you. 

You rushed down a flight of stairs and lunged yourself down at the last step. 

The breaths escaping your lips turned hyper and ragged as you rested your elbows on top of your knees. Your fingertips numb as they continued to fidget with the necklace.

Disappointment lingered in your stomach, almost feeling embarrassed over how little control you had over your own reaction. Just seeing him pushed you over the edge, bringing an overwhelming mixture of emotions to your chest and heart.

You couldn’t even tell what you felt, but something resembling a mixture of anger towards yourself for still being so caught up on him. And heartbroken at the sight of his body clinging to someone else, of how it reminded you of the early mornings spent dancing in the kitchen as the coffee brewed. 

The amount of sleepless nights you’d spent fantasising about seeing him again in the familiar apartment were countless. You had rehearsed the reunion a million times over in your head, picturing how you’d play so nonchalant as you swept past him. 

But as he actually stood there, right in front of you with the same gentle eyes and warm smile, you lost every sense of control and felt yourself spiral. It triggered some weird emotion and broke your heart all over again.

    The air stung in your lungs as you pushed yourself upright. You couldn’t keep sitting, leg tapping as thoughts flooded your head. Pacing back and forth in the small space, you tried to calm the restlessness crippling through you. 

Instinctively, your arms crossed over your chest as your head flung backwards. With parted lips, you let fast breaths move through you in hope one of them would leave you satisfied. 

It didn’t take long before the room started spinning and you had to stretch out for the wall. With all your weight resting on your arm, the other hand pressed against your forehead. 

“y/n?” 

The careful tone caught your attention, but you didn’t turn your head. You were more familiar with the deep voice than you were with your own.

“Hey,” he cooed, jogging down the stairs until he placed himself right beside you. His arm found its usual spot around your lower back, steadying your unbalanced frame.

Every part of you reacted to his hand on your body, how his warm palm laid awfully close to your hips and the way his body fit perfectly against yours. 

You had convinced yourself that the breakup and the following distance that had grown between you changed everything, but something about him had this undeniable effect on you. As much as you thought you would  hate it, in this moment you were thankful. 

   “Hey, it's okay, you hear me? It’s okay, I just need you to take some deep breaths for me, can you do that?”

Nodding your head, you looked up at him as he offered a warm smile in return.  “Good.”

He led your arm over his shoulder and brought you back to the stairs. His hand holding you in a firm grip as he guided you down. “Here.”

Kneeling down, he faced you with a careful smile. You couldn’t tell if calmness was real or not, but either way you appreciated it as he let his hand rub against your forearm. 

“Can you take some deep breaths for me,” he asked, carefully addressing your still hyper breathing. 

You just nodded again, not trusting your voice to actually carry your words. Gaze moving away from him, you tried to keep your focus on a dot engraved in the wall before you, knowing distracting your thoughts was the best way to go about it.  

Having him so close to you again felt so odd. At one hand every fibre in your being had longed for it, for his fingers to send sparks up your spine and his loving smiles to be sent your way. But on the other, you knew it would pass and you would have to start the process of getting over him all over. This moment was already burning into your mind and the idea of the pain that would follow was enough for the world to crumble underneath your feet. 

Before you knew it, the few calm breaths that had fallen off your lips turned hyper again. 

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay.” His voice sounded muffled as the words met your ears. Black dots were clouding up your vision and the room felt like it was spinning. 

“Woah.” 

Within a second, his grip around your arm was tight as the other flew up to your shoulder. All your weight resting against him as your ears rang.

“I know that it hurts, sweetie, but I need you to open your eyes.” He rubbed his thumb against the bare skin on your arm, his action barely grounding you as he continued. “You’re okay, you hear me? I’m here and not going anywhere.”

Your heart felt tight in your chest as your eyes shot open. His gaze bore into yours, and you felt so exposed. Normally you would have turned away, but the gentle expression on his face almost forced your eyes to stay on him.

“It’s okay, I promise.”

You could only detect the sincerity in his eyes as the words fell off his lips. As if this moment was only a fraction of what he meant, like the whole ordeal that had gone down between you was swept under the rug for now. 

Your mind had played tricks on you before, but right now you seemed to need the statement, and you were willing to cling onto it for what it was worth. 

He offered you a proud smile as your breaths slowed down once again.

He shifted, and in no time your body was cooped up between his legs. Your back resting against his torso.

You couldn’t even comprehend what was happening, and never in your wildest dreams did the night involve this. Whatever it was. Your mind found it odd, trying to picture what the scene must’ve looked like if someone walked down the stairs and saw you. But no matter how weird it seemed in your mind, your body found the setting all too comforting. 

He felt exactly how you remembered, the smell still tempting you to just lean against him and bask in his scent. Hearing your name fall off his lips was like music to your ears, and as he started gently caressing your arms, your muscles relaxed. 

Apparently he wasn’t satisfied with your respiration yet as he spoke up. “I need you to take some deep breaths for me, love.”

Your back stiffened for a millisecond as the old pet name fell off his lips so effortlessly. Every part of you had longed for the sweet names he always gave you, but as he said it and it registered in your mind, you weren’t really sure what to feel. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, picking up on the small cue as your body tensed. “Old habit.”

It took a second before you recognised how pleasant it had played through your ears.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” The ends of your lips tugged up as you let your body lean into his touch and relax against him.

“Good,” he mustered. 

Hadn’t it been for the obvious lack of oxygen in your brain, you would’ve sworn he sighed contently.

“Take a deep breath,” he said as his fingers softly climbed up your arm, inhaling with you.

“Good. You’re doing so good, now exhale.” 

His fingertips gently traced a line down to your elbow as you let out a shaky breath. Letting your eyes close once again, you rested your head underneath his chin as you kept following his deep breaths. 

You weren’t really sure how long you stayed like that, but you could finally feel yourself calmed down. The only thing on your mind was how you needed to get home and just rest. Of course, the way his body was pressed up against you made an appearance through your thoughts, but you could freak out about that later.

The bass from the party drummed through the walls, and the way it echoed through the hall did nothing to help the headache brewing in the back of your head. Preferably you’d just lay down right there and sleep it off. 

“I think I should head home,” you uttered, breaking the silence and pushing yourself to an upright position. The heat provided by his frame ceased, and you had to stop yourself from shivering as you took in a deep breath. 

“You’re feeling better?” He asked, scooting himself forward on the stair. 

You turned around, a grateful smile resting on your face as you spoke. “Yeah, thank you. I’m just tired.” As if on cue, you placed the back of your hand in front or your lips and let out a big yawn. 

“Do you want me to give you a lift?”

Hesitating, you bit your lip and looked away from him. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Harry.” 

You’d already been reminded of so many of the reasons you still loved him, and you weren’t really sure you could take more of them. 

“Are you sure?-” he asked, getting up from the stairs, “-I know how exhausted you get after these. I mean, you’re still shaking. We don’t even have to talk, I just want you to be safe.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you hated it. You knew how much he still affected you, but no part of him needed to know that. 

Just the idea of being in the car with him for 10 minutes made you nervous, but you refused to let it show. He even said you didn’t need to talk.

“Okay.” Your eyes found their way back to his, a small smile on your lips. “If you promise to not charge me for gas.”

He snorted. “I’ll just get my keys.”

-

“Nope,” he said, changing the station again as one of his songs played through the speakers. 

The interview about his new album apparently was no better as he changed the station again. Snickering, you looked over at him and watched his tensed shoulders. 

“You can talk if you want to,” you told him, fighting a smile over his nervous antics.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I think I’d actually prefer it if you did.” It’d make the breakup more distant, seem like we hadn’t cut all contact and left me unsure as to what was okay to say. But you didn’t tell him that.

“I always imagined we’d stay friends or something, after you know. Everything.” You confessed, letting your gaze follow the buildings outside. 

You could feel how his gaze bore into you as soon as the sentence fell off your lips. You weren’t really sure where you got the confidence from, but you told yourself how you would keep avoiding each other after tonight. What did you have to lose?

You glanced at him, watching as he bit his eyes shifted from the rear mirror.

“I don’t think I could've done that.” He said, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips as one of his hands brushed the back of his neck.

“Really? … To be completely honest,” you started, shifting your gaze away from him again. Your eyes followed a raindrop racing down the window, trying to form the words spinning in your head. 

“I think I would have prefered to see you with someone else if that's what it took for me to still be in your life.”

He stayed quiet, the hum of the car the only thing playing through your ears as you tried to ignore the nerves running wild in your chest over the fact that the words actually had slipped off your tongue.

One of the first things that drew you to him was the way he made you feel completely at ease. You could ramble or have your nerves spew out the weirdest sentences, yet he never made you feel stupid or small. It was so refreshing and you just enjoyed being around him. When he’d later told you how he loved talking to you because ‘you always speak your mind’, you just slowly grew inseparable. 

Now, after everything had changed, you found some comfort in knowing at least that hadn’t.

“I mean at one point I would’ve had to get used to seeing you moved on.”

Your hand travelled back to your necklace, fidgeting with the small heart, not really knowing if you wanted to know the thoughts rushing through his head.

“I don’t think I ever could be around you and not just show you how much I love you.” 

He broke the silence, and you couldn’t stop your head from turning towards him. His lips formed a thin line as his brows knitted together. You could have recognised the nerves crippling through anywhere as his gaze stayed fixed at the road in front of you.

“What do you mean?” You asked as his silence told you he wouldn’t continue on his own.

“I don’t know… I just see you and wish I could go back and change everything.” 

He let out a heavy breath, and you could see how his grip around the steering wheel tightened.

“And it’s so… weird? I mean I haven’t seen you in forever, yet I see you everywhere. I mean, I know you’ve been over by the way you folded the blankets and how you put the honey on the counter instead of  the cupboard. I can’t even avoid you in my own home.”

You couldn’t tell whether your heart clenched or fluttered at his words, but your eyes narrowed trying to comprehend the words. 

“Everything reminds me of what I don’t have, and I don’t even know how I would begin to process you with someone else.” The words sounded strangled as they crawled up his throat. 

He lifted a hand, letting it rub against his temple as he let out a quiet sigh. You turned your gaze away from his pained expression, trying to figure out how to let the words sink in. 

Seeing his career blossom and flourish had you convinced you were alone in the mess. He had seemed so happy as you cried at his interviews. 

Now he seemed just as hurt as you were and you had no clue as to how to even begin to let that progress. 

You hesitated, voice low as you confessed. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“If it helps, I don’t know what I want you to say.”

“It helps a little,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck as you looked down at your lap.

He snickered and glanced over at you before parking the car. You hadn’t noticed you were back at your apartment, but as you saw the complex, your heart sank a little. 

You were glad you finally had gotten the chance to talk to him again and it hurt more than you thought now that it ended. Talking with him always eased you, and tonight had only reminded you of the power he held over your wellbeing. Like he always made you feel better no matter what.

As if reading your mind, he opened his mouth. “I totally get it if you don’t want to, but would you maybe like to grab a coffee or something next week?”

“I’m sorry, I can't.” You cursed your schedule as you saw his shoulders slump. You had dreamed of this and now you actually blew it.

“Of course,” he said, plastering on a smile. 

“But, it's only, what? Nine thirty? Do you maybe wanna come up?” You gestured to the apartment he’d been in a million times before

A genuine smile crept onto his lips, his eyes staying fixed at you. Watching as you nervously fidgeted with your fingers.

“Really? Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.” 

“You don’t,” you told him, voice soft and gentle as you smiled at him.

“Okay, yeah. I would really like that.”

taglist:

(I feel like I have forgotten someone please let me know if you wanna be added or removed <3)

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @japanchrry @5-seconds-of-bucky @hoodhoran @suchalonelysunflower @notanacousticsetcal @lukeshemmo

#Harry Styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fics #harry styles fanfic #Harry’s house #harry styles au #fanfic #fan fiction #harry styles x reader #Harry styles x you #Harry styles x y/n #fic recs #hs recs #harry recs #Harry styles blurb #Harry styles writings #Harry styles masterlist #reader insert #Harry styles enemies to lovers #Harry styles ex’s to lovers #harry styles friends to lovers

[entropywritez]

An Unwanted Inheritance CHAPTER ONE: A Visit and a Blessing

~ 1600 words. In summary, Armani thinks about how his mom has gone missing, has lunch with a vampire, and helps out a faerie he passes on the street.

The cicadas, faeries, and the crunch of gravel under my shoes all came together to make a perfect rhythm of summer. I had my headphones on, playing absolutely nothing. My hands were in the pockets of the same cargo shorts I’d been wearing for the past Star Block. In one of the pockets was a miniature doll I’d gotten at the Ten Cent thrift store across the street from my dad’s shop. Her tiny limbs moved along with my thumb, providing me comfortable stimulation. My hair was half tied up to allow the breeze to blow the sweat on my neck dry, the other half down to preserve my luck. 

I was anxious. 

Every few steps, the thought resurfaced, and the step after that I buried it again. 

How many weeks are there in a year?

Sixty-and-one, she made clear.

Sixty-and-one weeks. Mom.

The gravel crunched under my sneakers to the beat that the faeries and the cicadas sang in an overwhelming hot cacophony, I buried the thought again. 

Uncle Jack’s house was much closer to town than ours, just a half kilometer past the start of the gravel roads. I didn’t like the asphalt as much as I liked gravel. 

His house was a huge mess of glass, wood, and brick, all positioned at weird angles, the windows much too big to be private. When I was little, I’d get in trouble for peeling chunks of red and brown from the face of the brick that ran along the bottom half of the first floor walls. 

I knocked on the door and waited, pulling the iron chains of my necklace back and forth across my neck, imagining the chains rolling up the skin on the back of my neck into neat rows like dough and that there wouldn’t be a texture on the back of my neck any more. 

My uncle opened the door just enough for me to step inside. “Saav’est, Armani!” He greeted, risking a hand in the sun to wave me in. 

Uncle Jack was a heretic, as my dad would put it. His house was not protected by any paper charms, even the basic kind you could buy at the general store for a tile for ten peel-n’-stick ones. He kept his hair all tied in a braid, instead of sensibly down to cover his neck. That’s how it is for vampires, though. When you’re considered neither faerie nor human, it’s hard to consider the holy powers that divided the two to be worth your worship.

If you live in the city, you might think of a vampire as a guy in white face paint, hair slicked back, blood dripping from plastic fangs. Those vampires are sick as hell, don’t get me wrong, but medical vampires are an entirely different phenomenon. 

Uncle Jack ruffled my hair as I came in, grinning down at me. “Y’must’ve grown three feet since I last saw you, kid,” he said. 

I laughed, already on my way to the kitchen. I sat on a stool at the island. 

“What’ll it be for lunch today, kid?” He asked, both hands on the counter like a bartender. 

I shrugged. “What do you have left over?”

Uncle Jack laughed. “A whole lotta blood, mostly. Fried rice, then?”

“Sure,” I said, internally sighing in relief. Safe food. 

He straightened, muscles flexing under too-little flesh. 

Human medical vampires are only really called vampires through old superstition. After enough exposure to raw Faren over a long period of time, humans will begin to look and behave like faeries, including pointed teeth and ears, wanting little-to-no sleep, and only being able to process Faren as real sustenance. However, as you might have figured out explosively as a kid, Faren is so unstable that keeping it around in its purest form is obnoxious. Most vampires have a permit with their local blood bank to pick up a few bags a week, because blood works as the next best thing, and is much less likely to pop like a firecracker if you jostle it too much. A starving vampire is neither faerie nor human, though. That’s where the folklore came in. 

Uncle Jack was able to keep himself well-fed and healthy, thanks to a significant salary from his employment with the Empire. I wasn’t entirely sure what he did. Probably the same everyman job most Imperial employees have. Nothing with law enforcement, despite my hopes. 

Sixty-and-one-weeks. 

From the back, it was difficult to tell my dad and Uncle Jack apart. They both kept their fiery red hair respectably long and groomed. Both were the same height, had the same pale-covered-in-freckles skin, even the same build. After a while, the older vampire brother and the younger human brother would meet. 

You could usually identify Uncle Jack through attire, though. He wore long white fabric from top to bottom to protect his skin from the sun, complete with practical leather boots he kept well oiled and a Four Points necklace he only wore because my dad made him wound around his waist. He usually took off the top layer of fabric when he was inside, though. 

Over the summer when I wasn’t at school all day, Dad sent me to Uncle Jack’s every workday for lunch to give me at least some human grown-up interaction. I didn’t necessarily mind, aside from the hot and dusty trek to and from our houses. 

I watched Uncle Jack cook absentmindedly. 

“A year ago today,” I said. 

Uncle Jack paused, but didn’t respond. I didn’t really want him to say anything back. I just felt like acknowledging it somehow. 

Vegetables flew under Uncle Jack’s knife, as if they were never one piece at all, and into the pan. 

I immersed myself in the sound of vegetables sizzling in bubbling oil. 

Uncle Jack asked, “What are the rest of your plans for the day?”

I shrugged. “I think I’ll go to the library with Alex and Liz if they aren’t working.”

He nodded. “We spend good tax dollars on that library.” Of course he’d think so.

“They sure pay off.” 

Now the rice went in the pan. “If you pass by the shop, can you take your dad a thing of this fried rice?”

“Yeah, I will. Men need to eat.”

Not that I’d want to eat in a shop that smelled strongly of herbs and chemicals, but my dad wasn’t me. 

Uncle Jack broke the eggs on the edge of the pan and dropped their contents in, breaking the yolks with the corner of his spatula. I used to yell at him for that, because it wasn’t the correct way to go about things. 

The Kelly family lived on paved roads, right across from the old monotheist church. It took about half as long to walk from Uncle Jack’s to the Kelly household at night, and the same amount of time during the day, considering traffic. 

I was standing at the first traffic light approaching town from the south, Dad’s lunch in hand, waiting for the pedestrian sign to switch from yellow to blue. There weren’t any cars to wait for, it just seemed wiser to wait. A faerie was across the street from me, a few paper bags in faer arms, doing the exact same thing I was.

If you’re a city kid, or an asshole, you’d probably think something like, “Isn’t that illegal?” or, “Wow, you’re so brave to step out of the house like you… are.” When you live out in the rural areas of the Hel’est’fenn empire, no one worth caring about enforces curfew laws. 

This faerie presented to be about my age, maybe a year or two older, but one can never be sure of the age of faeries. Fae was furk’, with crimson skin, simple horns carved respectably smooth, breasts, and completely straight dark hair. Fae was in faer chore clothes, meaning only two or three worn skirts and bead chains worn about the waist, and a visibly bulging ves’kel’en, generally sold to humans as “pocket skirts.” Proper faerie ves’kel’en are made of several different fabric tubes sewn together, each tied off with a tight knot to keep their contents inside, and a needle stuck through if it’s particularly heavy.

As fae and I passed each other on the street, one tube’s knot came untied, releasing a long stream of soap coins tumbling to the ground. 

The faerie swore, and bent to pick up the chips. 

I set down Dad’s lunch box next to me and did the same, offering handfuls of square bits of soap in various colors and scents. 

The both of us squatted in the street, wordlessly picking up soap coins and dropping them into the tube they were previously in. 

The faerie stood, tying off the tube. 

So did I, waiting for fae to send me off. One never leaves a faerie unless fae tells you to leave. 

Fae nodded and smiled, exposing teeth visibly shapeshifted for hunting. “Ben’tis’niir, yul’forr’qul’est.” 

For once, I recognized the line. Live well, human. A common fae parting blessing.

I nodded back. “Ten’est. Saav’est.”

The faerie laughed, visibly amused. “Bul’gen saav’gav’niir?”

I froze. My knowledge of Fae’liis’en was rudimentary, especially considering my proximity to the Fae and my dad’s profession. In other words, I had no idea what in the name of the Void the faerie just said. 

The faerie tilted faer head. “Know Fae’liis’en?”

I grimaced, and held up two pinched fingers, shaking my head. 

Fae nodded understandingly, and finally started on faer way toward the edge of town, waving a parting greeting. 

I waved back, continuing along the sidewalk toward my dad’s shop. 

When I put my hand into the pocket containing my tiny doll, I found a miniature string of beads and a green slip of paper, with the symbol for language, learning, and eagerness or speed. Thanks, mystery faerie. Pretty funny.

#Entropy's scribbles #an unwanted inheritance #webnovel #fantasy novel #fiction writing #writing update #fantasy writing #urban fantasy #queer writing

[yettiman84]

Best friends dad

It was late June and just approaching summer, and I had recently turned 19. I was chilling in my best friend, Angela’s garden. I was wearing a tiny white bikini, the bottoms a thong style. Let me describe myself: I am short and curvy'', with a spankable bum and naturally tan skin. I have black hair with natural curls. "I gotta go, my mums picking me up for the weekend," Angela said. (Her parents are divorced) "Ok", I replied, "is it cool if I shower here then head home?" Angela told me it was fine, and she ran upstairs to grab her stuff. She came back down, said goodbye, then ran out the door for the rest of the weekend. I walked upstairs and turned on the shower. Once the water was hot, I stripped down and got in. Second's after I got in, the door opened and I jumped. Angela’s dad stood in the doorway, wearing nothing but tight fitting boxers. I had always fantasized about Angela’s dad. His name was Lee, and he is in his mid 30's and is about 6ft with a sexy hairy dad bod. He had short shaven brown hair and blue eyes. "Oh, sorry I didn't know you were home. I- uh-..." I trailed off, but didn't make an effort to cover up. It oddly kind of turned me on to have him see me naked here through the glass shower door. Lee replied, "Oh, im sorry I didn't know anyone was in here." I could tell he was lying. He continued, "Wow, you've got a nice body." I knew this was part of a plan for him to fuck me. I had always fantasized about him, so I just went along with it.  "Mmmmm you like it?" I teased. I saw his cock was hard through his boxers. I pressed my round tits to the glass so they pressed up against it.  "Ohhhh you wanna tease me like this do you? We'll see about that," he said and pulled down his boxers so he was naked. He climbed in the shower with me and pressed his wet naked body to mine. Our lips met and I seductively slid my tongue into his mouth. He reached around me and squeezed my curvy ass. We broke apart and he demanded me to suck his cock. His cock was big and very wide. I took it in my hand and started going to work on it. I tried to fit all its length in my mouth but there was simply too much of it. I gagged and choked on it, and he pushed my head further down onto it forcefully. " Let me see that pussy princess," he demanded. I looked up at him and my face lit up. He couldn’t have known that I liked to be called princess could he?? Had he managed to read my diary when I stayed over previously? If he did then he knew I’d written about my fantasies which were about him. Oh my god this is going to happen. My pussy really started to get wet instantly as all my fantasies began rushing through my head. I sat down on the little seat that was built into the shower and spread my legs. My shaved, tight, pink pussy displayed for him. After spreading it and inspecting it, he told me, "nice tight pussy you have there." He went to work eating me out. I moaned softly as his tongue circled my clit. I pushed his head down harder onto my pussy as i reached my first orgasm. "Oh Lee I want you in me!" I cried.  "Call me Daddy you naughty slut," he replied. He definitely had read my diary, I was dripping wet at the thought of him reading all my dirty secrets. He turned off the steaming water, picked me up, and carried me to his bedroom. He threw me on the bed, turned me so my legs were off the bed, and spread my legs. As he put two fingers in my pussy, he suddenly stopped as he realised my cherry had not been popped. I was scared he wouldn't want me but he smiled and looked at me. He removed his fingers, put his mouth on my tight pussy and began to suck my clit. A sensation I had never felt before began to over take my body; my legs had become weak. Then I orgasmed like never before and had to move away from his face as the sensation was too great.

He pulled me close and put me on his lap, guiding my pussy onto his cock. The pain was too much and he began to realise so he put me on my back and slowly kissed my lips, making me want so much more. His kisses got more firm as he guided his cock into my wet pussy and he pushed slowly until he could push no more. I thought I was going to split in two but the pain soon became pleasure. He stopped and pulled me into his lap again; this time I was just about able to get his solid hard cock in me. I began to bounce up and down as he rubbed and bit my sensitive nipples. I felt amazing. Then it happened; I came again but this time whilst I was being fucked and my dripping messy little pussy felt amazing. I was so out of breath and could not believe what had just happened. He kissed me passionately and moved me to the side. He looked straight into my eyes and kissed my forehead.... “If you think that’s it then you’re mistaken princess”. I was giggling and smiling, this was all I expected and much much more. He stood in between my legs and shoved his rock hard cock in. I let out a little scream. He started off slowly, then got a rhythm going faster. I was quickly starting to climax again. Before I knew it, I started shaking, and he pulled out just before I squirted out of my pussy all over his thighs. I screamed in pure ecstasy. He flipped me over, climbed on the bed, and shoved his cock in my ass. I screamed in pain and protest. I had never had sex before let alone anal. My diary said I was scared of it and he knew that. "Shut the fuck up bitch, I'm taking your tight little ass," he shouted. He slapped my arse many times. I slowly started to enjoy it more and more. Soon, I had reached another screaming orgasm but I did not squirt this time.  Lee layed down on his back and told me to climb on top of his dick. I squatted on top of it, and lowered myself onto it slowly, teasing him as I glided it in inch by inch. I started bouncing up and down, riding him. I reached two orgasms in this position before he told me he was gonna cum. "Open your mouth princess." He said. I opened my mouth and stroked his cock before he shot his huge load into my mouth. I played with it for a little bit before I gargled it and swallowed it like a good little girl. He kissed me on the forehead and pulled me in close as we lay together in bed cuddling as he stroked my hair and body all over as I fell asleep in his arms.

#KST

[deeeelightfuldee]

What did you do last night? had a very, very small family celebration with family for my birthday. then i came upstairs and took a call while i used a foot bath thing. then i got into a spat with K and then i cleaned my room. 

What was the first thing you thought about in the morning? my eyes burn from allergies.

What are you wearing right now? shorts and a tank.

When was the last time you got drunk? friday

Partying or watching a movie? either.

What pisses you off the most? lying.

Last thing you questioned yourself on? if im crazy

Bars or clubs? bars

Where do you want to be at a year from now? im working on that plan.

How many kids would you like to have? 4-6

What is your favorite trait about yourself? i dont make my day ruin others.

Anything bothering you right now? yeah. 

Do you like pickles? no, not particularly.

When was the last time you got a phone call? today.

Who is your favorite football team? bears

Have you ever bobbed for apples? when I was a kid

Have you ever thought you could do a better job at being president? i dont think most people could do even a decent job tbh. 

If you could only drink one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be? ice water

What’s one food you could eat everyday for the rest of your life? moms pot roast dinner.

You’re in line at Taco Bell, what’s your order? nachos

How many months are there until your birthday? 12

Have you gotten gum stuck in your hair? as a kid

Where is your sister right now? shes in florida

Is your handwriting large, tiny, or pretty normal? normal

Are you currently listening to a song? theres background music on greys

If yes, what song is it its just like instrumental currently.

Do you have a digital camera? i might still have my broken one.

Do you own any kind of yellow clothing? yea

What time is it? 3:28pm

What color are your eyes? blue

How long does it take you to shower? like 10 mins

What jewelry do you wear all the time? it used to be my necklace from K but it broke. 

Any siblings? three. 2 bros 1 sis

What are you doing tomorrow? going out on a date.

What color are your socks? i dont have any on right now.

When’s the last time you went to the zoo? its been a pretty hot moment. 

What color do you wish your eyes were? im ok with them the way they are. 

How long is your hair? just hitting a tiny bit below the boobs.

Can others make you cry easily? no. not at all.

Whose house did you last go to? my uncles.

Where did you get the shirt you are wearing? thrifting.

Do you know what you are going to wear tomorrow? no, but im goin to work hard to look cute.

How has the past week been? some days it was exceptionally good. some were exceptionally sucky.

Do you like thunderstorms? obsessively so.

Do you have a bad attitude? no, 99.9% of the time im friendly and kind and happy. 

Are you the first born? i’m the baby.

Are you a vegetarian? no. i really love chicken.

Are you eating? nope. havent eaten a meal today yet.

[sagendipity]

the law of attraction: de minimis

a quackity x reader law school au

part one, chapter one

[PREV] | [NEXT]

.

The first myth about law school is that everyone is the same.

In movies, in TV shows, in books- everyone in law school is a certain type of person. Dangerously smart, hardworking to a fault, and absolutely cutthroat.

Now, that is true. To get this far, to get into a competitive law school and make it to your final year, you have to be all of the above. Smart, hardworking, and just a little cunning. It’s impossible to get a leg up unless you’re standing on someone else’s knee.

Or neck.

However, the fact that everyone here has to have a certain few traits in order to survive does not mean that they cannot have other traits.

Some are louder, exuberant, and competitive- the type to yell out the answer to a question before raising their hand, the type to go back and forth with the professor when they’re sure they’re right (and they’re not). There’s the introverts, the sly ones you never see coming, who you barely notice next to you all year until you glance over at the grade on their final and it’s a 110%, somehow.

Of course, there’s also the in-between. The respectable ones, the students that are just there to get through the classes they need and get a respectable job at a respectable law firm and make something nice out of their lives.

Or the hero type, the ones that are convinced they can fix any injustice they perceive in the world- the environmental lawyers, the criminal defense lawyers, the civil rights lawyers. They might be right, too, which is why it seems like a never-ending flow of them are pouring into the school at each orientation.

It’s not always as simple as that, of course. You, like many students, are a mix of a few types. You lie somewhere between the exuberant and introverted sides, not shy about answering questions in lectures, but not jumping the gun to cause discourse, either. A bit of a hero type, you must admit, but you do pride yourself on being reasonable when it comes to your life’s expectations. You don’t expect to become some William Kunstler. You work hard, you get shit done, and like law school has a tendency to do, it seems to become your whole entire life.

The type of person you never quite got a read on is Alex.

He’s been sitting next to you in your upper level criminal procedure class for the entire semester. A whole semester’s worth of lectures means you have plenty of time to observe and analyze the people in your classes- its not like there’s anything else to do when the professor is going over voir dire for the third hour that week.

You pegged the kid in the third row as a die-hard businessman. He’s not going into law to help people, he’s going into law to make the most profit off of the most vulnerable clients he can find. The girl in row six, however, is definitely the hero type, judging by her “save the oceans” stickers on her giant re-usable coffee cups.

Alex, though, you can’t read. He dresses down compared to the other students. They dress up to hide their shortcomings, like their fancy coats can stop them from feeling bad about their less-than-adequate qualifications for the internship they just applied for. Others just like to lean into the New York City aesthetic and dress like they’re already lawyers, even despite failing their last midterm. You fall into that category- you can’t help it, it’s a fun look- but hey, you definitely didn’t fail your midterm, and you’ve lived in New York your whole life, so you think you have the right to dress like that.

Alex dresses like he has nothing to hide. He dresses like the young, high-level professor who is always cracked out on Redbull and hasn’t graded a paper in his life; like the cute, fascinating barista at the local hipster coffee shop you can barely afford. He dresses like that one guy you’d see on the subway one day and never manage to forget because of how his eyes met yours for a split second.

To be fair, that is kind of how it’s gone. It’s not exactly like the two of you met on the subway, and you’ve definitely interacted more than just a passing glance, but goddammit is Alex stuck in your head.

You convince yourself it’s just because he’s such a mystery. It’s not because he has really sweet brown eyes, or the most charming, unruly hair you’ve seen this side of the Midwest. It’s not because he whispers a joke under his breath whenever your professor says something stupid, or because he bumps your ankles together and shares an amused glance with you when that one really annoying kid pipes up with an opinion no one wanted.

It’s just because you don’t know why he’s here, and you don’t know what he wants, and you don’t know how to read him.

It bugs you. It gets under your skin- not like an itch, more like a hum. He’s on the back of your mind constantly, like you’re trying to subconsciously figure out what’s up with him, but to this day you’ve had no success.

It’s not like you think about anything substantial in regards to him- every time your traitorous brain brings him up, you put it down quicker than it came up. Getting attached to people is dangerous in the best of circumstances, but getting attached to the absolute enigma of a guy in your criminal procedure class who you can’t even confidently say is named Alex would be equivalent to signing up for heartbreak.

“Don’t date law boys,” your roommate had lamented after she had done just that, laid across her rose-pink bedspread with a sleeve of crackers clutched in one hand and a tissue in the other. She had then blown her nose unattractively. “Lawyers have a reputation for being soulless for a reason. They’re only here for themselves. Fuck them.”

Despite that, you find yourself friends with Alex. As if you’d be able to resist the self-satisfied grins he flashes at you when the professor praises him for a particularly poignant answer, or the way he holds his hand out under the table for a high-five after you nail the answer to a cold call. You barely know anything about him, and yet, you know enough to decide he’s a good person.

“Alex”, whose name you’re only about 80% sure of- maybe it’s short for Alexander, but you thought you’d heard someone he was on the phone with call him Q, so maybe he’s a Quinn or a Quentin?

“Alex”, who shows up looking more comfortable than you’ve been in your entire life, and still manages to hold an air of confidence around him that you’d not be able to master even in your finest long coat and shirt.

“Alex”, who seems determined to wiggle his way into your heart in any way he can.

“Alex”, who you seem to be powerless to resist.

.

This growing attachment to Alex of yours is only strengthened with each lecture. You share this class three times a week, two hours each on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It’s a focus class, meaning that anyone who wants to go into criminal work should take this course. It’s challenging, it’s competitive, and it’s cutthroat.

And it’s only February.

A cold Monday morning in February, in fact, with the clock above your professor’s desk ticking obnoxiously as the big hand nears the 8. Outside, it’s downright miserable: windy and foggy. The outside of the paneled windows of the classroom are glazed in a sticky frost, reducing the figures of passing students to dull blobs as they hurry through the whipping wind to get to their classes.

The big doors at the back of the classroom close with a bang that reverberates throughout the lecture hall, cutting through the murmuring chatter of the students who are already here. Out of the corner of your eye you catch a flash of green- as you suspect, it’s Alex. He always takes the seat on the very end of the row, and you the one immediately to his right. You look up at him with what you hope is a casual smile, but the one he returns is so bright it could probably melt the frost off of the windows.

“Hey!” he says, too awake for 8 in the morning, and sets his binder down on the desk with a clatter. The whoosh of air rustles the paper of your notebook, which you smooth back down habitually. You watch Alex longer than you should, only tearing your gaze away after you notice the smattering of tiny snowflakes that have gathered atop the beanie he’s wearing.

You stifle a little laugh. This guy wears a beanie to law school.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he settles into his seat. He shrugs off his hunter green jacket, leaving him in just a gray hoodie, dotted with darker spots from melting snowflakes that’d been blown into him. He drops his outer jacket across his lap just as the room goes silent, your professor walking up to his desk.

As the last tails of conversations die off, you turn to Alex, unable to help yourself, “You have… snowflakes, on your head.”

He glances at you, a little huff of laughter escaping him as he brings up a hand to smooth over the beanie. The snowflakes are swiped off, melting on the heat of his hand- you wonder how it would feel held in yours, probably warm, he looks like he runs hot- and you pry your eyes away as he straightens out his beanie and tucks his hair up into the brim of it. He misses a strand, and the black swoop stands out sharply against the frost-paled skin of his face.

“Happy February,” your professor begins, his microphone crackling to life. “The month of love, is it not? Just two weeks until Valentines day.”

He swings his bag up onto the stool next to him, the sound echoing through the microphone. He turns to face the lecture hall, arms spread as if welcoming you all to a talk show.

“I’m about to ruin all of your Valentines Day plans. Welcome to the start of your final project: the mock trial.”

.

#quackity #alex quackity #quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #quackity imagine #quackity fanfiction #quackity headcanon #quackity fluff #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #sage vs the law of attraction #sage vs the law of attraction qxr #sage vs quackity #law school #lawyer #law school au #quackity au

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 4)

i hope yall enjoyed the last part, we took a sudden and quite dirty turn ther,e but we are heading down romantic street and its all sweet and cute with a little hotness. let me know what you thought about the part!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 4.7k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Harry Styles managed to leave quite the impression in you following his late night visit after the Emmys. He surely surprised you with not only the unbelievable orgasm he gave you with his talented fingers, but also with how big of a gentleman he really was, so keen on taking you out on a date first before he would kiss you. The timeline got a little messed up and he did apologize before he left at two in the morning for getting too carried away, but you assured him he didn’t do anything you didn’t want him to. To be honest, you wouldn’t have had a word against him kissing you right away, but you liked the respect he had for you, not something you’ve had plenty of lately. The men you dealt with in the past year were eager to get into your pants without the respect part, only hungry to earn fame through you, trying to blind you with sex so you wouldn’t realize their ugly motives.

This was not a threat when it came to Harry, he was just as famous as you, maybe even more. He had his own career, his own money, his own life apart from yours and he clearly wasn’t trying to use you and it was quite a refreshing change for you.

He stayed and the two of you talked so much, just sharing crazy stories from your life before and after fame, enjoying that you had someone who shared more or less the same background as you. Apart from Florence, you pretty much kept your old friends when your career took off, afraid to make new ones, always feeling a little paranoid that new people would have unholy motives when they try to befriend you.

Though you truly love your friends, they don’t really see behind the life you are living, while Harry completely does. His company is the best you’ve had in a long time, he is able to make you completely forget about everything outside the room you two are in.

You tried your best to hide your disappointment when he left that night. After offering him to stay in one of your guest bedrooms, he politely turned it down, and even though you could tell he wanted to stay, the urge to be a gentleman was greater in him, something you admire him for.

He left with the promise to see you soon on a real date and he got you as excited as a little school girl on the day of a fieldtrip.

However, given the lifestyles you two were living, finding a suitable evening for the both of you turns out to be a bigger struggle than you expected. Harry reaches out right the next day after his little visit. A good morning text waits for you by the time you open your eyes in the noon and by the evening he asks you out, however you have to realize the date has to wait a little.

You have two trip outside the city upcoming in the next two weeks and he is also planning to fly back to London for a while, the trips totally crashing in the timeline, not even having just the smallest window that would fit the both of you.

Accepting the fact that it would have to wait a little longer, you keep in close touch, eager to find the date that would finally be suitable for you and him as well. Endless texts, sweet calls and sneaky FaceTimes scatter through the days you spend apart and you find it hard to think of a time when he wasn’t hitting you up all the time.

On a Thursday evening, after a long day of fittings for upcoming events, you find yourself sitting on your couch with a sweet glass of wine, scrolling through your social media feeds when something catches your eyes.

Harry has been away in Los Angeles in the past few days and he mentioned having an interview the other day, but you didn’t think it would be out so soon, but here it was, a short video clip cut out by some random page that had a rather interesting title.

“Harry Styles talks about next album and mystery girl in his life.”

Your curiosity is way too strong not to click on it and have a look at it, so taking a sip from your wine you tap on the link and let the video load.

“It’s been some time since your last album came out, have you been working on new music lately?” the interviewer asked from behind the camera as Harry sat on a lilac sofa, wearing black high-waisted pants with a pink and white floral printed shirt tugged into it, his suspenders topping the look perfectly. His green eyes are fixed on the person asking him as he nods.

“Yeah, I think I never really stop making new music. I do have sessions when I’m trying to put a new album together, but I also write in the meantime as well, whenever I have an idea or inspiration. I don’t hold back,” he adds with a cheeky smile.

“Have you found any inspiration lately?” the question is heard and Harry nods once again.

“I have, actually,” he answers shortly, but his smirk gives it away that there’s a lot more behind his words and you feel your heart flutter in your chest. Is he talking about you?

“Has it been a person?” the reporter inquires, making Harry’s smile grow wider.

“A lot of things and people inspire me.”

“Alright, and is your latest inspiration something or someone new in your life?” the guy tries again, even though it’s well known that Harry likes to give vague answers instead of straight yeses and nos.

“Kind of new,” he simply answers and the reporter realizes he won’t be sharing more about the topic so he moves on with the next question and the video cuts out right there.

Though it wasn’t mentioned that he was talking about someone in particular, his fans drew the assumption that he is definitely seeing someone who has been his inspiration behind his new music. Feeling bold and a little flirty, you open up your messages and send him a quick text.

“A kind of new inspiration, huh?”

His reply comes almost right away, as always.

“Have you been stalking fanpages about me?”

“Would it be weird?”

“From you? It’s flattering. Little scary, but in a good way.”

You can’t help but chuckle reading his words. He never fails to make you laugh, you find his humor your favorite kind, never hurtful, but a little spicy, if you could say that, a lot of irony laced into it.

“Back to the topic: what’s your inspiration? Or should I ask… who is your inspiration?”

“Not gonna beat around the bush and just admit it…”

You wait and wait… and wait, but nothing comes afterwards and you are dying to have him admit that it’s been you, but not even the three dots appear at the bottom, so you take the lead again.

“Well, do it. Admit it, Styles!”

The fucker likes your message right away, meaning he has been in the thread all along, waiting for you to write something.

“Alright, but don’t tell anyone, because she is kinda famous and I don’t want the media to find out about it.”

“You have my silence.”

You watch the three dots dance at the bottom, holding your breath while you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to contain your wide grin that’s been plastered across your face this whole time.

When the text finally arrives you snort loudly, almost spilling your wine, laughing so hard you are happy you don’t like in a tiny apartment anymore with paper walls, because your neighbor would have definitely heard your laughter all the way down the hallway.

“It’s Betty White. Fuck, she is all I can think about.”

You need a minute to stop the laughter and type your reply.

“She is hot, gotta give you that.”

“Right?? I hope she is not afraid to date younger guys though.”

“I’m sure she would make an exception for you.”

“I hope so too.”

There’s a short pause, where you just read back his lines, chuckling to yourself some more. He always has a witty comment or comeback, no matter what you’re talking about and not once has he made you laugh madly on a set, at a meeting or just lying in bed before going to sleep.

“Joke aside, would it scare you away if I said I have definitely written about you?”

“Is this another theoretical question? Like the one you asked me on Ellen?”

You smile to yourself thinking back at the conversation the two of you had on the show when he was trying to figure out if you’d be up to give him your number.

“Maybe. So theoretically, would that be weird to you?”

“No,” you write, but quickly send another text. “But you know, it’s just theory. You’d have to tell me for real to find out.”

“Should have saw that coming…”

“Yeah, you really should have,” you muse to yourself, finishing up your glass and you carefully put it to your coffee table before sliding further down on the couch to get back to the conversation with Harry. You see that he hasn’t sent anything after his last one, so you decide to actually answer his question.

“Joke aside from my part, I wouldn’t find it weird. I think it’s flattering.”

“Okay, because I was ready to burn all my notes if you said it would be too much.”

“What if you’d be burning a Grammy worthy song though?”

“Would be a shame. But I would still burn it for you.”

“You are such a flirt…”

“Can’t help it! Or should I not be?”

“I like it. So don’t change.”

“Noted.”

Your little conversation has to come to an end since he is about to go into a meeting, but when you say your goodbyes and decide it’s time to head to bed, you already know a text will be waiting for you when you wake up in the morning.

Days and even weeks go by and you start to have a little too much on your plate. No matter how much you love your job and that it has always been your dream, sometimes you just need a breather. In the past week you’ve been in and out of auditions for a movie they keep top secret, you didn’t even get a script, just a few pages you had to memorize and they’ve been asking for more and more tapes from you with kind of absurd requests, but your agent told you it’s something major, that’s why they are so secretive. However, when they ask you to come in for another reading for the fifth time in seven days and you still don’t know what you are really auditioning for, you are kind of starting to have enough with all your other projects running at the same time. Your days start at six in the morning and rarely end before eleven in the night.

An entire month after the night Harry came over to your place, you kind of lose patience. The frustration that’s been building up inside you just simply bursts when your agent texts you on your way home that you’d have to go in for another casting in the morning for the same mystery movie.

“Have they not seen my face enough?” you snap, hands meeting the wheel as you keep your eyes on the road ahead of you.

“I’m sorry, Hun. I know it’s annoying, but they requested you, that means you are still an option for them.” Mona’s voice comes through the speakers of the car since your phone is connected to it.

“Do they need me to read the whole fucking Bible in front of a camera or what?” you growl.

“I have a good feeling about this last one, alright? And if they still can’t decide after that, we can always just say that we want out.”

“Then I would be labelled as the problematic little princess,” you sigh, knowing well how this industry works. Just one mistake and you can easily end up in a theoretical ditch.

“Just hold on a little longer, okay? I’ll send you the details in email and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Bye, girl.”

Mona is an angel. She’s been your agent for about five years now, she is the one who gets you into castings, well, at least that’s what she was doing before you managed to reach your breakthrough. She got your name on lists you couldn’t even dare to dream of and she is the reason why you are here today. Now she mostly handles requests for you to go in for castings, creators started to reach out to you a while ago, though Mona still works her magic sometimes to get you into castings that are still out of your league.

By the time you get home, you are desperate to do something. Anything. You’ve been nonstop working these past weeks and you just need to get out of this loop that sucked you in. Before you could even think through what you’re doing, you dial Harry’s number.

He is back in the city, that you know of because he texted even before he got home. You both ditched the idea of having your date today, because you just knew it would be a long day for you, and it’s the truth, it’s past ten, so not quite ideal for a date, but you ran out of fucks to give.

“Y/N? Everything alright?” he asks, noticing that you called, which is not what you usually do, or at least not without checking in if he is free to talk.

“Yeah, sorry I called so randomly. Are you busy?” you ask, feeling a little out of breath, even though you definitely didn’t do anything physically hard. You just can’t help but feel anxious since you are about to ask him out on a spontaneous date.

“No, just… packing and all that. What’s up?”

“So you don’t have anything to do right now?” you clear up.

“No,” he chuckles.

“Alright, so then… what do you say we have that date now?”

Even with him always being so blunt and open about how interested he is in you, it still makes you perfect to ask him out. The silence that comes from his side doesn’t necessarily help either and you are already preparing yourself to get rejected.

“You know it’s ten pm, right?” he then asks, a little unsure if you really thought it through.

“I am aware, yes.”

“Don’t you have work in the morning? I know you always start your days so early, I don’t want to be the reason why yo—“

“Harry,” you stop him midsentence. “I do not give a fuck about what I’m doing in the morning,” you bluntly tell him and you can tell he is smiling on the other end of the call. “So the question is still the same. Do you want to have that date now?”

He doesn’t ask anything else, just simply say the following: “I’ll pick you up in thirty.”

“Make it twenty,” you tell him and end the call before he could protest.

Ignoring the adrenaline rush you that just washed over your body you quickly make your way to the bathroom to take the quickest cold shower before putting on some clean clothes. You really don’t want to overdo it, knowing well since it’s so abrupt he wouldn’t be taking you anywhere that would require you look spotless. You choose not to put on any makeup, not just because you don’t have the time, but also because you feel a weird urge to just be bare, be yourself around him. The same goes for your outfit. You put aside all designer clothes and opt for a simple pair of jeans, a black tank top and a bright yellow knitted jumper over it, looking awfully casual, but feeling rather comfortable.

It takes Harry 22 minutes to get to your place, but you choose not to comment on those two extra minutes when you get into his car. Luckily, he isn’t dressed to impress either, wearing a simple pair of jeans with some kind of washed out, vintage printed tee shirt with his Bode Jacket he has worn in his famous SNL episode. His hair looks a little mess and even wet, making you wonder if your call caught him in the middle of a shower or he showered after you agreed to meet up.

“Long time no see,” he smiles at you, his boyish smirk making your heart flutter so easily as he eyes you while you buckle yourself up.

“You had plenty of paparazzi photos to look at in the meantime, Mr. Styles,” you smirk at him teasingly as he starts the car and leaves from in front of your complex.

“My favorite was the ones of you where you were walking out of a restaurant wearing that silk dress and the coat.”

“So you did see pap pictures?” you ask chuckling, you didn’t mean it entirely, but you find it funny that he actually saw pictures of you.

“You know, it’s been hard to avoid you online, especially because I keep liking all your posts so my phone thinks I’m interested in you. Which is true, and I’m not complaining about the content I’ve been seeing about you lately,” he admits chuckling and your eyes wander down to his ring clad fingers on the wheel. Your thoughts take you back to when they were touching you at places you haven’t been touched in a while. How they felt inside you and how desperate he could make you with just his hands.

You force yourself to look away from his hands and focus on the present time before your arousal becomes way too evident.

“Sorry I’m everywhere,” you smirk at him, enjoying the situation maybe a little too much.

“Don’t be,” he chuckles, glancing in your way for a moment, his green eyes meeting your gaze. “I don’t mind it,” he adds and those damn butterflies as quick to act up again in your stomach.

You don’t try to get him to tell where you are headed, wanting it to be a surprise yourself, so you just stare out at the night city as it runs past you, still quite a lot of people walking on the streets even though it’s now nearing eleven.

What you know is that you’re still in Manhattan and it seems like you won’t leave it either. Harry navigates his way through the city easily, he is not even using GPS, something you could never do. No matter how long you’ve been living here, you’ll always get lost in this jungle some call New York City. About fifteen minutes after leaving your complex, Harry parks the car down in a spot he found along the road, and looking out the window you’re trying to figure out where you are, but it doesn’t ring a bell. Seems just like a usual part of the Upper West Side, so now he has you curious about his plans.

“Where did you bring me, Mr. Styles?” you ask him as the two of you meet on the sidewalk and he glances at your with a sly smirk.

“Since you gave me such a short notice about our date, I thought I would show you one of my favorite places in the city and I hope you haven’t it.” “Well, I can assure you I don’t know it, because I have no idea what could be here,” you admit.

Harry nods at you to follow him and you walk side by side until the next corner.

“I think you already know that I’m English,” he starts off, making you chuckle.

“Yeah, it’s pretty evident,” you nod.

“So, in the past decade I haven’t spent as much time in the UK as I wanted, and a few years ago I discovered a little piece of my home in the city.”

Trying to figure out what he meant by that you don’t even realize where you just took a turn to. Harry stops and you snap out of your thoughts, looking up and seeing a charming little street ahead you, looking totally out of place in the city’s fashion. The townhouses all the way down look like they’ve been placed here straight from England, the Tudor style complex is a refreshing change in the fast paced, busy streets of Manhattan.

You can’t help but gasp at the sight in front of you, taking in every tiny detail with your eager eyes as the feeling of being in a fairytale takes over your mind. If only it weren’t for the busy noises of the streets around the micro-neighborhood, you would completely believe that you’ve been magically teleported to England.

“It’s called the Pomander Walk. Always makes me feel like I’m home away from home whenever I miss my family and my hometown.”

Harry starts walking down the narrow pavement that runs between the houses, lined with quite some greenery, something you noticed right away. There are just so many plants and flowers down the street, it’s pretty clear the residents keep them in good care.

You catch up with Harry, eyes still taking in the pleasant contrast Pomander Walk has to offer for any visitors.

“I feel like we are invaders,” you tell him. It looks so secluded, makes you feel like you weren’t even supposed to be here.

“Don’t worry, it’s totally public. The people who live here are pretty nice too. Love it when someone comes around.”

“How did you find this place?”

“A friend told me about it and just came to see it for myself one day,” he tells you as the two of you slowly make your way down the street, slow enough so you could see everything. “There are 61 units and they were built in 1921 by Thomas J. Healy. He originally wanted to build a hotel here, but didn’t have the money to just yet, so he built these instead to make some cash for the hotel. He never got to do that though, died a few years later, so Pomander Walk stayed.” You listen to him, soaking in every word that leaves his lips, finding his oddly specific knowledge about this place quite exciting and… kinda hot. You could listen to him talk about historical facts for days without getting bored.

“The whole complex was renovated in 2009, they restored a bunch of architectural details that lost through the years.”

“Looks fantastic. I wonder what they look like on the inside,” you muse, your eyes wandering over the colorfully painted old school window blinds on most of the townhouses.

Walking down the pavement you realize there’s not a single soul around here, something you don’t get to experience too often in the city.

“It’s not too well-known, right? I don’t see any tourists and all that.”

Harry shakes his head, eyes ahead of him as he hides his hands in his pockets.

“No, ‘s quite hidden, not often listed in sights to be seen in the city. That’s why I like to come here so much.”

“Easy to stay unnoticed,” you add with a smile as your eyes meet his gaze and he nods, returning the smile.

You walk back and forth on the street at least five times, just talking and sharing and laughing, finally falling out of the misery of your everydays. He still amazes you with how good of a company he is, with his broad view of life and many experiences, you can truly connect with him on a level you haven’t been able to reach with anyone in a long time.

It’s way over midnight when you head back to his car, holding hands that happened at a point earlier, but you can’t tell who reached for who. It was kind of mutual, but now you didn’t want to let go of him… ever. You let your fingers play with his S ring on his pinky while he keeps running his thumb over the back of your hand whenever he has the chance. It’s a little disappointing when you have to let go of each other when you climb back into his car and head back home.

“I know this date wasn’t much, but I hope you liked it,” he smiles at you shyly before his eyes snap back at the road ahead of him.

“Shut up, this was literally the best date I’ve had,” you tell him making him chuckle. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

“Now it’s your secret place too. Maybe we’ll run into each other here one day.”

“I’ll definitely come back,” you admit smirking.

The city lights pass by you faster than you want them to, and you arrive to your complex way too early. Well, not according to the time, because it’s way past half past midnight now, but you just don’t want the night to end. However, you know Harry would not come up if you asked. He is way too big of a gentleman and he wouldn’t want to make you miss your appointment in the morning, but you are definitely collecting that kiss he promised a month or so ago.

“Walk me up, will you?” you ask him softly when he parks down in front of your building. He nods and follows you inside without a second thought.

You both know it’s about to happen, the air thickens between you two in the elevator and neither of you can hold back the small smiles on your lips. Harry walks next to you until you reach your front door and you turn to face him, his green eyes already examining your every move.

“I’m happy we finally got to do this,” you tell him, feeling a blush warming your cheeks from the way he looks at you now.

“I’m glad you called. Was starting to think we would never meet again,” he chuckles making you laugh as well. It really did feel like the universe was plotting against you, but you bet it didn’t expect your sudden move tonight.

There’s a longer pause where neither of you knows what to say or do next and your patience is running low, especially when you see him run his tongue over his pink lips. You just can’t wait any longer to taste them.

“Harry,” you breathe out, the frustration and desire at an all-time high now in your system. Never in your life did it take this long for you to get to a kiss with a guy you were clearly interested in and who returned the feeling as well.

“Yeah?”

“Swear to my lost Emmy Award if you don’t kiss me right now I’ll—“

You don’t get to finish, you don’t even know what you’d have said, but it’s all forgotten when Harry kisses you hard, hands cupping your jaw on both sides, angling your head to grant him the best access to your lips. You return the kiss without a second thought, hungrily tugging and pulling on his lips, your tongues meeting in the middle and fuck! He really knows how to make your toes curl with just a kiss. You grab a fistful of his t-shirt at his stomach, pulling him close and the cold touch of his rings on your skin makes you shudder. Everything about him makes your legs turn into jelly and you are willingly offering yourself to him without a doubt.

He pushes you against your front door, one of his hands wanders down to your waist and he gives it a gentle squeeze that makes you open your mouth more for him. You are a mess and so is he. You have no idea how long you make out, but when you eventually pull back, your chest is heaving and your lips feel swollen. Harry pecks your lips two more times before forcing himself to let go of you.

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmurs in a low voice as he starts to back towards the elevator.

“Good night, Harry,” you say a little out of breath. He smirks at you one last time before walking into the elevator and the doors close, officially ending your first date.

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[1kook]

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

Copyright © August 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

[wondernimbus]

everything you didn’t say — draco malfoy

pairing: draco malfoy x female!reader

summary: reader has secrets of her own. a party at the malfoy manor reveals them.

a/n: i had to rewrite this bc im dumb n my first draft didn't save which was Very upsetting but anyways i hope you like it :'') 

“Well, don’t you look dashing.”

Draco’s eyes snap up in the mirror.

[Y/N] is standing in his doorway, having somehow opened the door without him noticing. She has one shoulder leaning on the doorframe, arms folded over her chest, eyebrows raised. There is a glint in her eye that Draco knows all too well; that of playfulness, of fondness. One he has long since associated with safety.

He breathes out a short laugh. “How long have you been standing there?” Draco asks, ringed fingers deftly resuming to work on his tie, but he isn’t having much success. He feels far too jittery, and as a result he keeps accidentally knotting it, only to unwind the silk and try again, over and over like some messed up routine.

Watching her through the mirror’s reflection, he sees [Y/N] step into the room. She’s wearing a plain black dress; lace sleeves, collarbones in display, the silver necklace he’d given her hanging around her neck.

“Long enough to find out that you’re a grown seventeen year old who doesn’t know how to tie his own tie.”

Draco still has it in him to roll his eyes, to let out a short-lived laugh. “I do,” he mutters, yanking a little at the fabric in frustration. “It’s just..”

[Y/N] swiftly pads across his room to join him at the dresser, a tiny grin playing across her lips. Standing in front of him, she gently knocks his hands away so as to work on his tie herself.

“Nerves?” she says quietly. The grin on her lips falls slightly as she fixes her gaze on his tie, hands quickly working to loop the loose ends together.

Draco inhales sharply. His palms are clammy, his heart is beating too fast inside of his chest—to say that he’s dealing with nerves would be an understatement.

”You could say that,” he decides, curling and uncurling his fists at his sides. When she looks up to meet his gaze, he tries for a weak smile, if only to quell the storm inside his heart.

”It’ll be fine,” [Y/N] tells him with a pursed smile. She’s done tying his tie. Her hands move to rest on his shoulders, which are covered with his suit jacket. His mother had insisted he wear it, just as her own mother had no doubt insisted [Y/N] wear her dress; it is somewhat of a special occasion, after all, although what they are celebrating is hardly something that neither draco nor [Y/N] feel too ecstatic about it.

”There’ll be drinks,” continues [Y/N] with a lilting tone, thumbs smoothing over the creases of his suit. “And..”

She trails off. There isn’t really much to say.

”Dancing?” Draco suggests half-heartedly.

There is one brief second in which their eyes meet, and both of their lips are already beginning to quirk up at the corners, and then the next they are both breaking out into laughter. And it’s not the kind that hurts your stomach or has you pounding your fists on the ground, but it’s laughter nonetheless—a little rigid, a little heavy-hearted, but it’s just as relieving.

[Y/N]’s shoulders wrack with subtle giggles. “Yeah,” she agrees, nodding. “And I suspect Greyback will be giving a motivational speech.”

Draco feels his lips tug up into a crooked grin. “Hear my aunt might skip out on the party. She’s got knitting to do, you see.”

Both of them let themselves paint a picture inside their head: the infamous, untamed Bellatrix, sitting in a quiet corner with a quilt in her lap, humming a little tune to herself.

[Y/N] throws her head back in a loud laugh, and this time it’s not quite as tense. Draco watches her, laughing quietly on his own, and suddenly his heart doesn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.

He watches as the last of her giggles dissipate, and she is smiling down at her shoes again, and then back up at him.

“We’ll be okay,” she tells him softly, once more reaching out, but not to tie his tie or to smoothen out the creased fabric of his suit, but to card her fingers through his hair the way she knows relaxes him.

Staring down at her—holding her gaze, which is warm and comforting and reminiscent of simpler times, like when she would sneak into his bed at Hogwarts and they would whisper and laugh quietly into the night, taking care not to wake up any of his roommates—Draco allows himself to breathe. To feel like himself again; a boy in love and nothing more.

”Yeah,” he says, closing his eyes, leaning forward to lean his forehead on hers. “Yeah, we will.”

—

Gatherings at the Malfoy Manor were usually a grand event; peacocks would mill about the lawn, some wandering past the large castle doors and into the drawing room, where the guests would stroke their feathers in admiration with one hand and hold a glass of the finest mulled wine in the other as they spoke among themselves, laughing and boasting offhandedly about the ancient living room set they'd imported from France or their children's future careers. Sometimes one would have enough courage to bring up the notion of arranged marriages, only for Narcissa Malfoy to turn them down and say that Draco would choose for himself when the time came, veering the conversation away towards things like ministry connections.

Parties happened often back then—not as much to celebrate as to fill up the overly large halls of the manor with pointless chatter—but things have changed. It’s been a while since the Malfoys last opened their doors to guests.

Does this count as a party? Draco wonders to himself, watching Death Eaters filter into the drawing room, some wearing sickening grins and others looking dead inside.

There are no more wandering peacocks. No more music, no more friendly guests eager to wed their children into the Malfoy family. There are only murderers. Death Eaters. There is laughter, but the kind that has Draco feeling uneasy.

Things have changed. Draco wonders if it's for the better.

He knows he and [Y/N] can't hide here forever—at the edge of the shadowed banister overlooking the entrance hall—but they stay there for as long as they can, until his grim-looking mother comes up the staircase and beckons for them to join the party.

Party. Ha.

So Draco and [Y/N] trail after Narcissa, who leads them into the drawing room, where most of the Death Eaters have gathered. No peacocks, no music, but there is wine, and almost everyone is clutching a glass of it.

He feels [Y/N]'s fingers graze against his. Looking over at her, she sees him staring placidly in front of her, meeting no one's gaze, but she seems to feel his eyes on her—so she turns her head to the side, and Draco sees her facade slip away for the smallest of split seconds as the look on her face softens and she gives him this small, reassuring smile.

He can almost hear her voice inside his head: we'll be okay.

Draco swallows. Nods just a fraction of an inch.

People clap him on the back as he passes, congratulating him and [Y/N] for a job well done at fixing the Vanishing Cabinet. Draco nods mutely and lets [Y/N] do the talking—she has always been better at keeping her composure, masking her true thoughts.

"Could never have imagined it," cackles Alecto Carrow, marching up to them in the middle of the large room. Her cheeks are already tinged pink with intoxication, voice a higher pitch than usual. "Most I expected from you lot was.. well, nothing, really. Doubted you could even fix a dresser, much less a whole bloody cabinet!" she shrieks with laughter, some of the wine from her glass spilling onto the floor.

[Y/N]'s gaze is stony. "Thank you."

Alecto’s nose wrinkles, her chortles dying down. "Thank you?" she repeats. "S'that all you have to say?"

For a brief, horrifying moment, Draco almost thinks [Y/N] is going to bite back with a sarcastic remark—but things have changed and there is a mark on her arm now, so instead she says, flatly, "It wasn’t an easy feat." A slight pause. "We’re just as surprised as you."

Alecto grins. She seems satisfied. "Well, 'course it wasn't an easy feat, or at least for you." She takes a big swig out of her glass. "Could’ve done it myself in ten minutes, isn't that right, Amycus?"

Her brother Amycus snickers but doesn't reply. Draco knows it's because he doubts Alecto's claims just as much as they do; she doesn't seem capable of writing even a bloody paragraph on her own.

"Well," says [Y/N]. "We appreciate your.. praise."

Draco almost snorts. It’s uncharacteristic of her to be so formal, and most of all to take the high road when being insulted. He knows that if things were different, if their lives weren't on the line, she wouldn't be standing here at Draco's side—no, her wand would be at Alecto's throat.

But that little bit of humor quickly fades when Draco finds Amycus staring at [Y/N], uncouth eyes roaming from her lips to her exposed collarbones, the skin hiding just underneath the lace of her sleeves, the dress hugging her figure—

Draco feels anger flare up, hot and heavy inside of his chest. Unconsciously, he finds himself stepping forward, urged on by that unpleasant feeling worming its way into his stomach, curling his hands into fists, tinging the tips of his ears red as his fingers edge closer to the wand inside his pocket.

¨What are you looking at, boy?¨ Amycus sneers, meeting his gaze.

Draco thinks, at that moment, that magic would hardly be fit to put this ugly brute of a man in his place—no, he´d much rather use his fists, pummel them into that crooked nose of his until he kneels at [Y/N]’s feet and begs for her forgiveness, because no one should look at her like that—

[Y/N] is whispering something, but he can´t hear it through the blood rushing in his ears.

But all of a sudden, Amycus’s gaze changes. He is no longer looking at Draco; rather, at something over his shoulder, and then he is bowing his head, eyes downcast.

All it takes Draco is a brief glance behind him to realize why.

He hears [Y/N] now: he’s here. He’s here.

An odd hush has fallen over the large room. The cause is easy to pinpoint; the Dark Lord has appeared at the entrance of the large drawing room, bringing with him a familiar sense of foreboding as everyone’s breath seems to hitch. It’s funny, in a sick way, how easily the atmosphere has shifted from something like ease to suffocating tension. How Alecto, who had been cackling into her glass of wine just moments before, now looks like a dog called to heel. How Amycus has torn his hungry gaze away from [Y/N] to instead stare down obediently at his feet. How Draco’s own parents, who stand a few feet away from the Dark Lord at the entrance, have their lips pursed and their hands clasped in front of them in submission.

Draco would laugh, but he is one of them now, and his head is hung just like the rest of them.

¨My, my,¨ says the Dark Lord, tone soft. ¨What a lovely party.¨

It had been he, the Dark Lord, who had suggested the idea of a celebration to revere in Draco´s and [Y/N]´s success. Not out of fondness, of course, but out of sheer spite for the Malfoys, caused by Lucius’s failure at the Department of Mysteries. This party was just another part of his little mind games; not only had he forced their son, Draco, to let Death Eaters loose inside Hogwarts, but he was now forcing them to celebrate it.

But why is he here?

It had been he who proposed the party, but no one had expected the Dark Lord to actually come. He had other things of actual importance to attend to: things that involved torture and kidnap and blackmail. He was on the brink of taking over the Ministry of Magic, and thus was a busy man—the Dark Lord only goes where he is needed, and not to pointless parties.

Draco swallows.

So why is he here?

¨It is only right, of course,¨ Voldemort continues, his voice still so oddly soft, like he´s addressing children, ¨That we celebrate the success of our young Death Eaters. The task I gave them was not an easy one, I’m afraid, and yet they prevailed, in the end, and proved themselves to us.¨

He wonders if Voldemort has spotted him and [Y/N], and feels bile rise at the back of his throat. Draco doesn´t want him anywhere near her.

Just leave, Draco thinks to himself, his teeth gritted so tight he hears how they scrape inside his skull. Just leave.

“I must admit, a few months ago I had my doubts.. but now here we are, applauding them, congratulating them for a job well done, treating them as one of our own.. welcoming them.”

“Draco.”

[Y/N] has inched closer to him. A moment later she feels her fingers weaving through his, squeezing his palm so tight Draco knows without having to look that her knuckles have turned a ghostly white.

He squeezes back, thinking that she might just be as surprised as him. Just as nervous.

It’ll be okay, he tries to tell her without saying it out loud. He´s too scared to speak. It’ll be okay.

¨And yet even as we toast to their names..¨

Draco keeps his head down. He can hear the sound of Voldemort´s robes rasping against the floor as he moves about the room.

But that is not the only thing he hears. Cold sweat trickles down the side of his temple, because in the Dark Lord’s voice he hears an edge. He senses danger.

A thought bounces around Draco’s skull as he fixes his gaze intently on his shoes: why is he here?

"Even as we welcome them with open arms.. as we let them walk among us unharmed, revered, almost, for their bravery..¨

¨Draco,¨ [Y/N] repeats, a little louder this time but only for his ears, and if the room wasn´t so quiet he wouldn´t have heard her ragged, almost panicked breathing, but it was and he did. 

He senses uneasy movement from behind him. One of the other Death Eaters.

¨Despite our kindness, one of them dares to turn away from us. One of them dares—¨ The Dark Lord´s voice grows colder, angrier, losing control and then all of a sudden softening again after a pregnant pause; ¨One of them dared.. dares to feed information to the fools that call themselves the Order of the Phoenix.¨

Draco hears the collective murmur of surprise that ripples through the room.

“Draco.” [Y/N]’s grip on his hand, if possible, tightens.

¨One of them dares betray us.¨

There is a brief moment of confusion on Draco´s part. He turns his head to look at [Y/N], brows furrowed as he struggles to make sense of the Dark Lord´s words.

But then Draco meets her eyes. Sees the look on her face.

¨I´m sorry,¨ she whispers, and realization hits him like a burst of icy cold water.

¨Seize her,¨ Voldemort says coldly. When Draco looks up, he sees that he is halfway across the room but his gaze is fixed on them—on [Y/N].

Amycus and Alecto are the first to move. They drop their glasses with no hesitation, sending them to the floor where they break into a hundred tiny pieces, and grab [Y/N] by the arms. She resists, wrestling in their arms, but the string of words that leave her mouth aren´t curses, nor are they pleas to let her go; no, they are apologies, repeated over and over again like a mantra as she desperately holds Draco´s gaze—”I’m sorry, Draco. I’m sorry.”

He watches as they yank [Y/N] across the floor, towards the Dark Lord, away from him. His lungs have stopped working, his heart is pounding wildly somewhere inside his throat, and [Y/N] is being roughly thrown at the Dark Lord´s feet—

Draco can´t breathe. His mind is buzzing, blanking out to a field of white, noise and heat colliding and melting until he can´t think through the blood rushing in his ears.

“Pity,” the Dark Lord whispers, gripping her chin harshly, jerking it up so that she would look at him. 

“I thought you'd proved yourself to be worthy of my praise, but instead it seems you've proved yourself to be rather the opposite—“

She snaps her head away. “Fuck you.”

“You, my child, have proved yourself to be a fool.”

“You´re never going to win.”

The Dark Lord seems unfazed. A grin splits wide on his face, stretching his lips into an uncannily amused grin as he stares down at the girl at his feet for a few seconds before nodding—and then turning around, twirling his wand in his hands—when had he pulled it out?

“And now, my brothers and sisters.”

Draco doesn’t feel his feet move underneath him, but they do.

“Lo and behold what happens to ungrateful fools who turn us away believing that they are saving the world, when in fact they are ruining themselves.”

Everything happens so quickly that Draco barely has any time to react; Voldemort raises his wand, and it seems to almost shine in the light as he points it directly towards [Y/N]—the Dark Lord´s mouth opens, the spell resting on the tip of his tongue, [Y/N] at the opposite end of his wand—

“No!”

It’s as though something inside of Draco has snapped, like he is being jarred awake. He doesn´t think—just darts forward with no real goal in mind other than to put himself in between Voldemort and [Y/N], but then there are hands grabbing at his arms, holding him back—

“Let go of me!” his tone is feral. He jabs his elbow into someone´s stomach, trying desperately to wrestle himself free, but the more Death Eaters he rips off of him, the more take their place. “[Y/N]!” he is breathless. “[Y/N]—”

The Dark Lord is going to kill her. He´s going to bloody kill her.

“Draco,” he hears his mother´s voice but doesn’t see her—he´s too busy thrashing wildly in the arms of whoever has hold of him, yelling out profanities and curses and [Y/N]´s name; “Draco, come. You don´t want to see this.”

“Let fucking go of me!”

But then the Dark Lord´s voice cuts through the havoc—¨Let him stay.¨

“[Y/N]!” Draco shouts, gritting his teeth. There are tears in his eyes; he doesn´t realize they´re there until they´ve fallen and he tastes them on his tongue. “Don´t touch her! Don´t fucking touch her!”

But the Dark Lord is, once again, unfazed. He turns his gaze to Draco but doesn´t lower his wand. “Watch, my child,” he says, voice ringing throughout the room, cold and unforgiving. “And pay close attention. This is what happens to cowards. To fools. To ungrateful scum.”

[Y/N]´s back is turned to Draco, and maybe it is better that way, because when the Dark Lord raises his wand, he doesn´t have to see the light leave her eyes.

Draco feels the entire world slow down. A single thought appears inside the ruined mess that is his mind, almost as if it’s mocking him—[Y/N] has always been better at masking her true thoughts. At hiding things; even from him. 

We’ll be okay, [Y/N] had told him.

She had lied.

¨Avada Kedavra!¨

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[delaber]

Coming Home

Note: The fic no one asked for but I still wrote because I had to. Pretty sure this will be my last Rafa fic. It’s been a ride. Thank you!

Words: 7.7K

It was one of those blisteringly hot days where all you wanted to do was to laze about in front of a fan with your feet up and eat popsicles in the hopes of cooling just a tiny bit down. The sun was scorching and there was little to no wind at all, making it close to unbearable to be out of the shade for more than two minutes at a time - but unfortunately, you found yourself stuck in the middle of a very sunny lawn at Nat's garden-themed birthday party. Several times during the day, you had caught yourself looking jealously towards the enticing pool area at the end of the lawn but unfortunately had to settle for self-administered time-outs in the shade under various palm trees that were lining the garden.

At one of said time-outs, the birthday girl Nat approached you with a huge smile and two drinks in hand, "oh, there you are!" She exclaimed happily as she reached the same tree as you and handed you one of the piña coladas she was holding, "I've been looking all over!"

"Sorry," you smiled at your best friend and accepted the cocktail she was offering you, "I needed to cool down for a bit," you said while fanning your hand in front of your face

"Ooh, great idea - make room for me," Nat too stepped under the shade of the palm tree and immediately started fanning her top, "Jesus Christ, it's hot today!"

"Well, you were the one to insist on not having gazebos for your party," you shot your best friend a small smile, "it ruins the aesthetic," you mimicked her words from a few days ago with a laugh.

"Oh, shut up!" Nat let out a chortle, "I clearly made a terrible decision."

"Yeah, you should always listen to me and Diggs," you chuckled while having a sip of your tropical drink, enjoying how it slowly seemed to lower your core temperature as soon as the cold liquid hit your oesophagus.

"Hey, speaking of; have you seen him?" Nat squinted her eyes while shooting her phone a glance, "he's not answering any of my texts."

"I talked to him over by the snacks a little over an hour ago," you pointed over your shoulder, "he said he had to take off for a bit."

"He had to take off?" Nat furrowed her eyebrows, looking directly at you with disbelief written all over her face. From her expression alone, you could tell what was going through her head; as Nat's long-term boyfriend, Diggs knew exactly how important her birthday was to her. "That's seems a bit out of character..." she mumbled sadly.

"Aww, don't worry - he'll be back in a bit."

"What was so important for him to do on today of all days?" Nat sounded crestfallen.

"Come on Nat, what kind of an errand could he possibly have to run on his girlfriend's birthday?" You rolled your eyes.

"...But he already got me a present," she fiddled with the shiny new bracelet around her wrist.

"Maybe he's getting you a surprise," you shrugged mysteriously.

"Really?" The sad look on Nat's face was quickly replaced by wide eyes accompanied by a broad smile, "A surprise?"

"Don't tell him I said anything!" you laughed.

"Well, did he tell you what it was?"

"Nope... He probably knew we'd end up having this conversation," you chuckled.

"Slick bastard," Nat muttered under her breath before her voice returned to normal, "well, I hope he gets back soon. Of course I'm excited about the surprise but I don't want him missing out on the party."

As if on cue, a loud clanking noise coming from the shrub-embedded gate at the other end of the lawn had both you and Nat whip your heads around; Diggs had stepped inside the closed-off garden with a huge smile plastered on his face, stopping as soon as his feet hit the soft grass. He scanned the area for the birthday girl, and when his gaze finally landed on Nat, you watched how his face immediately turned soft as their eyes met across the lawn.

"Ah, there he is," Nat sighed happily as she took in her handsome boyfriend.

"...yeah, but he's empty handed," you added with a sigh after a quick scan for a birthday present in his open palms.

"Oh, you're right. Must be something he can stow away in a pocket..."

"Or something that's too heavy for him to carry alone," you added.

"Either way I'm just glad he's back," Nat said dreamily and send Diggs a small wave to which he replied with a sappy smile and a wink.

"Ah, I'm third-wheeling so hard right now," you gagged and with a grin turned your back towards Diggs in the hopes of making it less awkward for yourself.

"Yeah, sorry babe," Nat was biting her lower lip, trying to contain herself as she gazed at her handsome boyfriend over your shoulder.

"You look terribly confused all of a sudden," you laughed as you took in Nat's furrowed eyebrows.

"Yeah, he's just... standing there - why is he not moving?"

"What? He's standing completely still?" you arched an eyebrow, looking at Nat who still wasn't sparing you a glance.

"No, he's... looking for something on the other side of the hedges. And he's talking to someone - I think?"

"On the phone?"

"No... - oh wait, looks like he brought someone along."

"He brought someone?" you repeated curiously, "who?"

"I don't know. I don't recognise him..." Nat looked confused as she squinted her eyes, trying to focus on what was happening at the other end of the lawn. Then suddenly, her face changed, "- hey, is that...? No - wait... - Oh my god! It is!" She finally whipped her head around, looking directly at you with huge eyes, "he's here."

"...Who is?" you looked at her confused.

Nat didn't have time to answer your question before a male voice that you didn't immediately recognise rang from behind you, "Ey yo, Nat!"

"I'm sorry..." Nat whispered, "- but I have to..." she shot you a pained look before she moved past you with a squeal as she briskly walked away from the shade under the palm tree.

Confused, you spun around and scanned the lawn for Diggs and his mystery companion. Diggs had put on one of his more colourful outfits, and your eyes were immediately drawn to him and the smug smile he was wearing as he took in Nat who was now running at full-speed towards a sharp-dressed man to his right.

"Rafa!" Nat exclaimed loudly as she fell into the well-dressed man's arms, "you're here! I can't believe it!" she squealed.

The mere sound of his name made the hairs on the back of your neck stand while the blood quickly drained from your face. You instantly felt your throat go dry and your head dizzying as Nat's words rang in your ears. Rafa was here? Rafa as in Rafael? No, it couldn't be...

You adjusted your gaze slightly but sure enough; there he was. In the middle of the lawn in a tight embrace with your best friend. None other than Rafael Casal.

That. Fucking. Prick.

"You're kidding me..." you mumbled under your breath.

What the fuck was he doing here?!

You immediately felt your heart rate increasing and your palms getting sweaty as you took him in. He had grown a beard and cut his hair short, making the area above his forehead strangely lonely without its familiar swoop of hair that he had been so fond of back when you had known him. Your eyes travelled across his face that was plastered with the toothy grin you had once loved, and down to the strong arms that you had once known every vein of. There weren't any tattoos on his arms that you didn't recognise but he had definitely built more muscle mass since the last time you'd seen him.

You had to admit that even though you were more than regularly annoyed with him, he looked good - he just didn't look like Rafa. Not your Rafa at least. He looked more man than jokester, a ghost of the boy you'd once called yours.

When the tight embrace in front of you finally ended, Rafa straightened up and looked over Nat's shoulder, his green eyes immediately piercing through you. He did a quick scan of you from the tip of your sneakers to the top of your head, and if it hadn't been for the fact that you knew that you looked good in your new dress, you might have grown flustered under his intense stare - but you didn't. He could stare all he wanted and meanwhile use the opportunity to think about what he had let go of - what he was missing out on!

He looked you up and down a few times and when his eyes reached yours, he sent you a tentative look and a careful smile that you didn't reciprocate. After all, pretending that Rafael Casal meant absolutely nothing to you was something you had perfected over the years.

When he finally realised that your face would remain stone cold and without the smallest trace of friendliness, he quickly looked back at Nat and sent her a broad smile as she began mumbling something to him about how he was the last person she'd expected to see today.

Meanwhile, you used the opportunity to march over to Diggs and pull him aside; "what the hell do you think you're doing?!" You hissed at him, your voice so low that only he could hear.

"Oh, I'm just watching my best friend and my girl reconcile after years apart," he smirked, his eyes still locked on the two friends talking excitedly in the middle of the lawn.

"Don't get smart with me, Diggs!" You said through gritted teeth, "why the fuck didn't you tell me that he was coming? You know how I feel about him! He's a snake!"

"Jesus Christ," Diggs rolled his eyes, "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you. If you'd known that I was picking him up at the airport, you would've ended up faking an excuse to leave before I'd returned."

"And with good reason! You know what he did! I don't want to talk to him!"

"You need to resolve this shit between the two of you," he shrugged, "You need to learn to be in the same room as him. It's been way too long already, and it cannot go on like this forever."

"Oh, watch me!" You huffed childishly, looking over at Rafa's dumb smile as he said something incoherent to Nat.

"Bruh..." Daveed cocked his head and sent you an unimpressed look, "He didn't come to mess with you. He came for Nat... He misses her."

"- but," you tried to interject but Diggs immediately cut you off: "- And before you say anything -" he continued, "- look at how happy she is!" he gestured to Nat who had now gone back to hugging Rafa tightly, "I know that her loyalty to you dictates that she has to hate him or whatever, but she has clearly missed him too. So if you can't do it for yourself, please just behave yourself for Nat."

A guilty pang hit your chest when you looked at Nat's happy smile, and you realised that she had cut off all contact with Rafa for your sake. "For the record; I never told her she couldn't talk to him," you mumbled.

"I know," Diggs nodded, "that's just how good of a friend she is."

"Alright... I'll behave for Nat," you sighed with a slight scowl before you quickly continued, "- but I'm not going to talk to him! No way!"

Diggs shot his hands in the air in a surrendering manner, "hey: normal, regular behaviour is all I'm asking for! You can ignore him for all I care - just be civil."

You didn't answer Diggs but instead continued to scowl as you watched Rafa and Nat having a giggle about something. The sound of Rafa's obnoxiously loud laugh swimming in your ear canals made your stomach go annoyingly warm, and for a millisecond you actually wished that he was laughing at something dumb alongside you instead of Nat - or at least you wished for it until you reminded yourself of what he had done, and the familiar anger towards him soon returned.

"Aw, come on," Diggs let out a laugh when he saw your angry face. He gave your shoulder a playful shove before he put his arm around you, "let's get you a drink - you look like you need it."

"Yes, I need it!" you groaned as he led you away from Nat and Rafa, "- and a big one too 'cause my dumb friends had my nemesis fly in from New York behind my back."

Diggs laughed a little at your miserable tone of voice, "cheer up," he chuckled, pulling you a little closer, "...and to be fair, I did the inviting. Nat had nothing to do with this."

"God, you're the worst," you mumbled as you reached the self-service bar, "I cannot believe you'd spring this on me after what he did!"

"Come on. It's been three years," Daveed shrugged and smiled down at you before he pulled out two clean glasses.

"That's easy for you to say when you weren't implicated in it," you mumbled sourly without looking directly at him.

"I may not have been directly involved, but you know I still got caught up in the middle," Diggs sent you a short look before he poured both of you a drink, "- and I still am."

"How?" You said incredulously, "I literally never talk about him."

"Exactly," Diggs shot you a sideways glance as he screwed off the cap of a tonic water, "you never talk about him. It's forced."

"It's forced? Since when is not talking about your asshole of an ex-boyfriend forced?"

"I know you miss him," Diggs said softly and sent you a careful look.

You forced yourself to scoff as you accepted the gin tonic from him, "I have no idea what you're talking about! I literally could not care less about Rafael at all," you looked across the lawn and immediately caught Rafa's gaze that was aimed directly at you. His eyes were huge, his gaze soft and longing. You thought to yourself that he looked as if he was the one who'd been wronged all those years ago. As if you were the one who had disappeared off to New York before royally fucking everything up. Which you absolutely weren't!

-

Rafa had been annoying as hell all night! Whenever you were no more than a few milliseconds away from letting down your hair and forget about the fact that your nemesis was attending the same party as you, you could hear his annoying foghorn of a laugh in the group of people next to you. And although you were trying your absolute best to avoid him completely, he still seemed to be all over, somehow always within a ten-foot radius from you, his cutting-torch-like voice constantly poking at your eardrums.

You were successful in avoiding him up until around midnight when you unfortunately were careless enough to lay down your guard for a few seconds too long, not realising that he had approached you at the self-service bar while you had been looking around for a lime for your drink. "Hey," you heard a low growl behind you as you were cutting the citrus into wedges.

You didn't have to look up from the table to know who the voice belonged to. "Rafael," you said neutrally while screwing off the cap of the tequila bottle you were holding, pouring up a couple of ounces of liquid without sparing him a glance.

"Hmm... Ra-fa-el," he repeated slowly, dragging out the name and smacking his lips as if savouring how it rolled off his tongue, "you know what? I don't think I've ever heard you call me Ra-fa-el before."

With your gaze still firmly placed on the tequila-filled glass in front of you, you arched an eyebrow but didn't say anything as you continued working on the cocktail, desperate to not give in to his antics.

You could feel his gaze burning on your skin, his eyes following your every move as you poured Cointreau into the cocktail glass and quietly waited for him to leave you alone again. He didn't budge, however, and when he realised that you intended to keep your silence, he quietly asked, "...How are you doing?"

"Great," you said and pressed your lips firmly together.

"Good..." Out the corner of your eye, you could see his head bopping up and down as he took you in, "I - uhm - I always liked you in green, you know," he grinned cockily. You knew he was just acting this way to get your attention but annoyingly enough; it was working for him. His comment made you dart your eyes towards him, shooting him an unimpressed sigh that he reciprocated with a careful smile, anxious to see if his compliment had tugged at your heartstrings. But even though his words had made your head dizzy and your diaphragm contract considerably, you still managed to keep a straight face as you took him in. His gaze was soft and satisfied, and a strange feeling hit your guts when you looked into his green eyes for the first time in over three years. Seeing the familiarity of his overly confident gaze made you realise that he hadn't exactly turned into the destructive villain that you had made him out to be after he had moved to New York three years ago. Behind the masculine beard and the buzzcut, the jokester with the soft chin and the long quiff was still in there. Your Rafa was still in there, and for a tenth of a second it made your heart ache as you wished for a time that he had long ago ruined.

He had clearly realised that you were checking him out because slowly, yet surely, his smirk grew considerably while he maintained eye-contact. It made you furious! He. Did. Not. Have. The. Upper. Hand. Taking in your angry expression, he shifted the weight on his feet while giving out a low chuckle, "I guess what I mean to tell you is that you look good. Like really good! - even when you're fuming."

"You look old," you stated flatly to make him stop feeling so overly confident.

To your dismay, however, he wasn't the least bit hurt by your comment but instead spluttered happily and let out a loud laugh, making the crow's feet around his green irises dance around as his eyes squinted tightly together in amusement. He looked irritatingly handsome, and it made you even more annoyed with him; he wasn't supposed to be amused by your low blow, he was supposed to be devastated!

You chewed your bottom lip as he annoyingly confident ran a hand through his beard and took you in with his forever playful smile. The fairy lights surrounding the self-service bar caught something shiny around his wrist as he caressed his chin, and you recognised the piece of metal immediately. It made you scoff, "you really still have that?" You nodded towards the golden band around his arm that you had given him for his 25th birthday some years ago. Even though it had been quite expensive, you'd figured that he had thrown it out long ago.

"You're kidding me?" He said incredulously, furrowing his brows and fiddling with the shiny links around his arm, "of course I still have this! It means a lot to me, I wear it every day!" He sent you a tentative smile, once again checking to see if he was so lucky that his words had defrosted you.

He wasn't.

"What?" He asked with an amused twinkle in his eyes when he took in your unimpressed face, "I swear; It's one of my most treasured possessions."

"Rafael... Just..." You let out a small sigh and folded your arms across your chest, "- just drop the pleasantries and tell me why you're really here," you demanded, "I highly doubt you're here to small talk."

"Aw come on - I'm just here for Nat's party. I didn't come to stir shit up. I promise!" He looked at you with honest eyes, still with a trace of a smile on his lips.

"Then why are you attacking me at the drinks table?" You were surprised to hear how steady you managed to keep your voice when it felt as if your entire body was shaking.

"I just wanted to say hi," he shot you a careful look, taking in every movement of your facial muscles, "You've been avoiding me all day."

"Wonder why," you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, looking away from him.

"I know it seems like an unnecessary question but are you still angry with me?" He asked, his smile still in place but suddenly a bit stiff.

"I was angry at first. Now I don't really care about you anymore," you smiled overly-sweetly.

"Yeah okay," Rafa's stiff smile faltered a bit and it looked as if you'd finally managed to knock him slightly off his course. This probably wasn't how he had imagined the conversation to go. It was a nice feeling to see him slightly panicked. "Ehm..." he smacked his lips, "would you like me to leave?"

"Yes," you breathed, but even you could hear the thickness of the lie in your throat. Even though you were keen on keeping your distance to him, you were still terribly curious as to why he had passed you up three years after your horrible break-up. After all, it had ended in lies and angry tears.

His smirk turned amused, and he could barely hold back a triumphant chuckle when he spoke, "I can tell you're not being serious," he tilted his head to the side.

"My God, you are insufferable!" you said through gritted teeth, "just tell me why you're here!"

"Well..." he licked his lips before he slowly stated, "Sofía's pregnant."

He had barely finished pronouncing the word pregnant before you felt the blood immediately drain from your face. "You're... having a baby?" You breathed and blinked a few times, bracing yourself for his answer. After everything that had happened, you couldn't believe that the mental image of Rafa with someone else was still able to make your stomach ache horribly, and you were immediately reminded of the fact that you hadn't left him because you had fallen out of love with him.

"Am I having a...-? Oh God no!" He laughed when he understood, "Sofía as in my sister! My sister is pregnant! I'm about to be an uncle. Tio Rafa."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you when his words finally settled, and the blood quickly returned to your cheeks making them unbearably hot. "Well, congratulations then, I guess," you mumbled, trying to conceal your flustered face.

"Thanks!" He smiled proudly and put on a goofy expression.

"I still fail to see what your sister's pregnancy has to do with me."

"Well, you see..." he licked his lips, "Sofía and her boyfriend are constantly talking about baby-stuff, and who in their lives are important to them, and insurances, and dying wills, and things like that - and I guess it kinda made me think about stuff in my life too," he gave out an awkward shrug, shooting you a careful look, "you know... Unresolved matters and so on..."

"...and then you thought about me?" You scoffed.

"Yeah," he nodded carefully, "I miss you."

"Rafael..." you closed your eyes and sighed in disbelief.

"Oof," he winced and it made you open your eyes and look at him. "- could you stop calling me that?" He looked pained, "It's - it's weird!"

"Well it is your name, isn't it?"

"I know, I know... Hearing it from you is just - it's just weird..." he mumbled while rubbing his neck, "only strangers call me by my first name."

"We're practically strangers."

"We are?" He looked taken aback.

You shot him a sideways glance, "yes, we are Rafael," you sighed and watched how his nostrils did an involuntary twitch at the sound of his given name.

He merely grunted while shooting you a weird look.

"What?" You asked incredulously, "you don't agree?"

"No. No, not at all," he shook his head, "I know you."

"Not anymore you don't," you turned back to your drink, stirring it a little just to give your shaking hands something to do.

"I know every freckle of your body..." he said quietly, his voice so full of emotion that it made your heart ache. "I know why you have a scar on your left knee," he continued, "I know all your guilty pleasures. What makes you tick. Your likes. Your dislikes. Of course I realise that we didn't end optimally but you can't pretend that we don't know each other," he ran a hand through his beard.

As soon as the words had escaped his mouth, you shot him an angry look, "we didn't end optimally?!" You hissed at him, "well, it was your fucking choice to end it that way, wasn't it?"

"Ah, so you are still mad at me," He stated flatly, taking in your expression.

You managed to turn off some of the fire you felt in your eyes before you spoke, "No I'm not, Rafael. As I said, I don't care about you at all," you said coldly, "Is that all? Can I go back to my best friend's birthday party now, or are you in the mood to ruin yet another one of my nights?" You shot him a deadpan look.

"I can't force you to talk to me," he said quietly, his eyes huge with disappointment.

"What do you even want to talk about?" Your voice was laced with frustration, "it's been three years! I've moved on - I don't need this, Rafa!" You wanted to smack yourself when you realised that you had let his pet name slip.

"I just want to apologise. Properly..." he said quietly while awkwardly rubbing his elbow, decent enough to let the use of his nickname slide.

"Apologising is not going to change what happened."

"I know... but you still deserve a proper apology from the guy who hurt you."

You gave out a scoff but didn't say anything.

"Look," Rafa continued, "can you please just give me ten minutes alone with you? Some place quiet. Ten minutes and I swear, I'll never talk to you again if you don't want me to. I just want to tell you how sorry I am. I think we both need it."

You weighed the pros and cons. Maybe it would actually be good for you to get some closure so you could finally forget about him? You decided that you might as well try. It'd be nice to stop thinking about him for good. "Fine! You have ten minutes and not a second more!" you said sternly, "but let me be very clear about one thing: I am not doing this for you!"

"I know," he nodded slowly, and followed you to a deserted bench a little away from the rest of the party.

He sat down next to you with a content sound, "Cig?" he asked while holding out a crumbled package.

"I quit," you pushed the package away, your fingers briefly brushing over his. It made him smile slightly but he quickly concealed it by clearing his throat.

"Good for you," Rafa nodded while lighting a cigarette for himself, taking a long drag while looking at you. "So..." he said quietly, "I hear that you finally landed that job you used to work so hard for."

"If you just wanted to smoke cigarettes and small talk, we didn't have to go all the way back here," you crossed your arms.

"Tough crowd," he laughed, "come on. Just humour me for a bit... I miss talking to you."

You scoffed, "you have nine minutes and fourty-five seconds left, Casal."

"Nine minutes and fourty-five seconds," he nodded in agreement, "so... that job of yours - congratulations! Your hard work finally paid off, huh?" He tried again.

"Have you been stalking my linked-in?" You said sourly.

"Nah, Diggs gives me little updates," Rafa chuckled awkwardly, "-or he did for a while at least. Up until about a year ago when he got real angry with me," Rafa clenched his teeth tightly together, looking uncomfortable.

"Diggs got angry?" You said in disbelief. Out of the two, Rafa was definitely the hot-headed one.

"Oh shit, yeah!" He nodded with a laugh, "I know it's hard to believe because it's such a rare occurrence but that just made it so much scarier! For a second, I thought he would punch me in the face!"

"Well, that should teach you to keep your abnormally large nose out of my business," you scoffed slightly.

"That's what he said too," Rafa chuckled, "-and that if I wanted to know how you were doing, I should give you a call myself," he sent you a small smile, "- but I knew you would have my balls in a wrench if I suddenly called you up out of the blue."

"Correct."

He smiled, "yet here we are. Talking quietly without screaming at each other. My balls free as ever."

"You're lucky I left my wrench at home today, Casal."

He let out an amused snort and took another drag of the cigarette, "yeah, I can't believe my luck this evening," he smiled without looking at you, "hey, while we're on the subject of updates; I - uhm - I also want to let you know that I heard about your dad. I was very sad to learn about his passing."

You felt a sharp pain in your chest, and you held your arms a little closer to your chest, "Diggs told you about that too, huh?" You mumbled, unable to look Rafa in the eye. Even though little over two years had passed since your dad had died, thinking about him still hurt.

You felt Rafa nod beside you, "Yeah. He called me right after it happened... I know your dad meant a great deal to you. Meant a great deal to me too to be honest..." he sighed.

"I know..." you thought of the special bond the two men had always shared. Even long before you and Rafa had fallen in love, your dad had hoped that you would end up together.

"I was seconds away from flying home to see him off at the funeral, you know - but given how you and I ended things, I didn't think you should deal with me on top of losing your dad..." he shot you a sideways glance.

You decided not to tell Rafa about how you had woken up on the morning of the funeral, wishing that he had been there. Wishing that everything had magically gone back to normal overnight. Instead, you merely mumbled, "you should've come. My dad would've loved that... He always liked you."

"Yeah, I liked him too," Rafa nodded, "I still think about him every time I hear a terrible joke or see someone in a Laker's shirt."

"Oh god, all those fucking shirts," you groaned and thought of the hundreds of basketball shirts that your dad had had stacked neatly away in his closet. You couldn't believe that you had completely forgotten about them.

Rafa chuckled, "what did you end up doing with them? I imagine that you donated them in your dad's spirit."

"Naturally," you nodded and felt yourself uncross your arms for the first time since you'd sat down. "My mom kept one, and the orphanage got most but we auctioned off the rarest ones and gave the money to charity. That was what he wanted, you know."

"Ah, what an icon," Rafa sighed, "well, you should be proud of him and the work he did for the community. He was a great man. A proper role model for the bay."

You nodded in agreement while scanning Rafa. It was nice to talk about your dad with someone who knew him but who hadn't seen him fragile and sick. Someone who didn't think of him as his diagnosis, and you realised that for the first time since his passing, things actually seemed fairly back to normal. Sitting side by side with Rafa actually felt welcome and normal. Maybe you'd grant him a couple of minutes more of your time.

Rafa's eyes skirted away from you, and he nervously cleared his throat before he continued, "Uhm... not that it matters but did you - did you ever tell him about what happened between us?"

"My dad? No..." you shook your head with a sad sigh, "he loved you like his own son, and I didn't want to break his heart. So I just told him that we couldn't make the whole long distance-thing work."

"Oh, right... Thanks," Rafa nodded.

"I didn't do it for you."

"Still... I'm glad he didn't get to know that side of me. I'm not so sure he would've liked me if he'd known the truth about how I broke his daughter's heart."

"I'm not so sure either..."

"I - I hated myself after, you know," He looked over at you with a pained expression after a couple of seconds of silence, "I have never regretted anything more in my entire life."

"What? Not going to the funeral?"

"No. You know... What I did..." he said sheepishly.

"Oh..."

"The minute I woke up I - I wanted to undo everything," he looked at you pleadingly, "I felt so fucking terrible. Still do. I can't even think about it without wanting to stab myself. It is without a doubt the worst thing I have ever done, and I am so sorry for the pain it caused you," he said softly, "please understand that I didn't do it because I didn't love you. It wasn't because you weren't enough or something like that. You were perfect to me. I take full responsibility for the fuck-up, and I am so, so horribly fucking sorry!"

"Rafa, it's..." you gulped, the words somehow stuck in your throat. You were having a hard time acting as if his words meant nothing to you.

He carefully put his hand on top of yours before he continued, "do you think we would've been able to work around the long distance if I hadn't...?"

"Please don't..." you whispered and sent him a soft yet warning look, "I don't want to talk about what might've been."

"No, no of course not..." he nodded quietly, "I just - I can't believe it's been three years... Fuck baby I've missed you so bad," he carefully moved his thumb over the back of your hand and searched your face with furrowed eyebrows, "You have no idea of the relief I felt when I finally saw you today," he said quietly.

"Don't do this..." you closed your eyes and whispered.

Rafa continued as if he hadn't heard you, "I know we didn't work out the way neither of us pictured it but that doesn't mean you weren't the best thing that's ever happened to me..." he sounded desperate, and you couldn't look at him. The words he was saying was making you want to fall into his arms, "...I never should've let you go."

"Rafa," you sighed and summoned all your strength and looked into his glossy eyes, "you didn't let me go," your voice barely a whisper, "I broke up with you."

"I know, I know," his voice was oozing with pain, "but I hope you realise that I would've done everything to win you back. I would've come back to California if you'd only asked me to. Fuck the record deal."

"There was a reason why I didn't ask you to come back," you shot him a glance in warning, "you know that."

"Still, I should have done... something."

"You did exactly what I asked of you."

"Yeah... I stayed the fuck away from you," he mumbled. You could tell that he was replaying your last tearful conversation in his mind before he heaved a big gulp of air and glanced over at you with a valiant look in his eyes, "but I've come back to remind you who I really am."

"You don't have to remind me of anything... I remember who you were. What we had."

"Then let me be that guy for you again," he looked at you pleadingly.

"What's the point when you're still 3,000 miles away?" You sighed, "It's not as if we'll happen upon each other at the supermarket and go out for spontaneous coffees."

"Could be," he said with a small shrug, "I - uh - I'm moving back," he nervously ran his fingers through his short hair, "I want to be close to Sofía and the baby - and you."

"You're coming home?" You gulped. You couldn't believe him. Was this a good thing?

"Yes," he breathed, "And I want to try things out with you again. Please give me another chance..." his fingers moved from your hand to your knee. You briefly considered his words while you felt his thumb caress you through the green fabric of your dress. Right now, you were fighting hard to not give in to his embrace and the familiar set of lips in front of you, but you weren't sure how you'd feel about it come morning, so you remained poised.

He sensed your hesitation, however, and carefully put his forehead to yours "come on, baby," he said quietly and softly kissed your cheek, his lips warm against your skin.

"I don't know," you gulped as you involuntarily closed your eyes and breathed him in.

"It's okay," he said with whispered words, the stubble on his chin rough against your cheekbone, "you don't have to give me an answer right away," he gently kissed your jawline while his hand travelled from your kneecap to your fingertips, clearly desperate to remind you of what you could have back if you only agreed to let him in again.

"Rafa, I don't know," you said quietly although it was becoming harder and harder to remain steadfast and ignore his burning lips on your skin.

"Just consider it," he kissed the corner of your mouth, "I'll crawl. I'll beg," he whispered and pursed his lips against yours, "I'll do anything," he moved his body closer to yours, "just consider it," he whispered and placed a particularly gentle kiss to your already buzzing lips, "please baby."

You couldn't help yourself any longer and you involuntarily twitched your lips against his before you felt yourself being completely engulfed by him. The passionate kiss you shared was soft and bittersweet, reminding both of you of what had been.

His hands were caressing your neck and hairline and he hummed into your mouth as he savoured the feeling of finally having you kiss him back. "Fuck I've missed this," he gulped when he broke away and put his forehead to yours, his hand still on your cheek, "does this mean you'll at least consider it?"

"I'm still angry with you," you whispered without really answering his question.

"I know, love..." he caressed your cheek, "I was stupid," he searched your face, "it was a stupid mistake."

"Don't reduce it to a stupid mistake, Rafa," you whispered.

"Poor choice of words," he mumbled, "what I mean to say is that I hope you can forgive it," he placed a soft kiss to your jawline, "- forgive me."

"Even if I did forgive you, how do you expect me to ever trust you again?" You said quietly, and you knew that you couldn't dance around the elephant in the room any longer. "Rafa you had another girl's lips wrapped around your dick not even twenty-four hours after crying in my arms at the airport," you said with a heavy heart and watched him cringe his face at the harsh truth, "twenty-four after you'd sworn you'd do anything to make our relationship work despite the distance."

Rafa was still wincing when he spoke, "not that it's any excuse at all but I was exhausted and drunk and heartbroken," he croaked, "I had just left the love of my life behind in California... and this other girl was suddenly there and she got me high as balls and she-" he sighed without finishing his own sentence, "trust me when I say that it was the worst night of my life," he closed his eyes in a sad attempt at holding the tears at bay.

"Well at least you got a nice blowjob out of it." You smiled humourlessly, "I just wound up with all the lies you threw in my face."

"I never lied to you..." he mumbled, "I came clean as soon as you confronted me."

"How big of you!" you scoffed.

"Baby... I didn't tell you because I was so embarrassed," he gulped, the tears now evident under his green irises, "I wanted to throw myself off a cliff! I knew that if I told you, it would be the definite end of us," he looked at you with huge, bloodshot eyes, "I couldn't do that."

"I need you to understand that the worst part of it wasn't that you cheated on me. The worst part was that you pretended that nothing had happened at all," you couldn't tell whether the tears you felt in the corners of your eyes were from being angry or sad, "Imagine how dumb I felt when Diggs finally broke down and told me what you'd done," you said and Rafa suddenly couldn't hold back the tears any longer either.

"I wanted to tell you. Trust me, I wanted to," he sobbed.

"You had three weeks to say something to me for fuck's sake!"

"I'm so sorry," he whimpered.

"We facetimed every night for three weeks and you didn't say anything! You made a complete fool of me!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" his eyes fixed at his own feet.

"Rafa, look at me!" you said in a harsh tone of voice.

Immediately, his red eyes found yours. He looked as ashamed of himself as he possibly could, "I was a coward," he whimpered, "-and I knew didn't deserve you."

"Then what makes you think you deserve me now?" You said coldly.

"I have spent the last three years trying to forget about you and what happened but no matter what I do, you still linger in the back of my mind. Even after all this time you're the only one I can ever see myself with. I always return to you. On sleepless nights, you're dancing on the back of my eyelids. I see you in other girls when I pass them by on the street. You're in all my poetry. All my songs. I think about you constantly. Maybe I don't deserve you but I at least had to try."

"Rafa you broke my heart," you looked him dead in the eye and he visibly gulped, "you betrayed my trust and you did it in the most despicable way I could ever imagine. It's been three years and I still cannot believe that you of all people would do that to me. You were my ride or die."

"I can still be that," he said desperately, clinging on to the last bit of hope he had in him, "I'm still that guy! The guy who cheated on you that wasn't me! I wasn't myself! I'm aware of the agony it caused, and trust me: I've learned from my mistakes," he looked at you resolutely before he whispered, "I'm still your ride or die."

His words made your stomach hurt and you felt the heat rise throughout your body as your throat clenched tightly together. You felt suffocated and stood up from the bench so fast that black spots distorted your vision. "I can't do this!" you said desperately, "it's too much!"

"Okay," he gulped, looking up at you with desperation written across his face.

"I have to go back to the party. Nat expects me to be there for her."

"Alright," he gulped. He was having a hard time concealing his obvious disappointment.

"Don't look at me like that!" you whimpered, "what did you expect? That you could shed a few tears and everything would be alright again?"

"No, of course not..."

"Then don't look so fucking disappointed! You're making me feel like the bad guy and I haven't even done anything!"

"I know," he gulped.

"Yet you still think a drunk conversation erases everything? That I will take you back just because you're feeling sorry? You obviously don't realise the damage you caused."

"Then tell me!" He too stood up from his seat, "I want to make things alright again," he pleaded.

"I don't need you to make things alright again! I was doing just fine before you showed up!"

"Okay, I'm sorry," he sheepishly picked at his own elbow, "I just thought that maybe you felt the same way about me."

"I don't want you back!" You said roughly.

As soon as the harsh words had escaped your lips, you could see the heartbreak on his face; his cheeks paled, his lips quivered, a single tear left his right eye as he looked away. He ran his hand over the corners of his mouth, unable to look directly at you, "right," he said as a fresh set of tears formed in his eyes, "I'm sorry... I - uh - I had to try,” he sobbed although he was fighting to hold his voice steady, “I - uhm - I don't know what to say…”

"Don't say anything..."

"...so this is it?" His eyes found yours, "...for good?"

You nodded slowly but didn't say anything.

You watched how he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly without any words escaping him. He looked flustered, panicked almost when you turned around and stepped away from him. You could hear him panic-shift around behind you but he still didn't talk. He had probably expected you to take him back with open arms - anything but this!

Good. He deserved to fry a little.

And maybe you'd call him tomorrow. Just maybe.

#Rafael Casal #rafael casal x reader #Daveed Diggs #blindspotting #rafael casal fanfiction #rafael casal imagine #Bay boys

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

--

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress���s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

#g/t #fearplay #g/t writing #my writing #gianttiny #macro/micro #gt #giant/tiny #g/t angst #g/t community #hurt no comfort #remembers that anon i got a few days ago asking if i would ever write things with less angst #hopes this answers the question #also #these ocs? #they spark zero joy #so i will not be writing them again #meaning yes yall only get this sad ending oh well (: #absolutely not beta read nor edited sorry #ask #alarstar

[jeontaehui]

Are there any chaotic Taehui moments during hot sauce promotions?

TAEHEE BEING CHAOTIC DURING HOT SAUCE ERA — A THREAD BY USER MRKSVTT

1. someone pls save her

🌶️ NCT DREAM has the hottest striking skills I Hot Sauce Bowling

haechan has been keeping his laughter all to himself since the past minute, causing jeno to become curious as to what he was laughing about. 

“no, just look at noona,” haechan whispers to the latter, their eyes subtly giving short glances to taehee as they stood on their side, “she’s so quiet.”  

as if mark had read his mind, the dreamies hear the familiar laugh of their leader and turn their heads to him, “taehee, calm down! your eyes are literally shaking right now.” 

the boys chuckle at the nervous grin that appears on her lips, her meek voice trying to brush them off, “no, guys, it’s fine. it’s fine!” 

“she’s convincing herself,” jisung comments with a giggle, “noona, i’ll make yours!” 

“okay,” she replies, the worry in her tone causing mark to let out one more laugh. “do you want me to eat yours?” he asks, standing up, and as if she had a sudden change in demeanor taehee waves him off with her hand. “i’m not a baby,” she tells him. 

“jiji noona,” jisung calls, catching the attention of the elder. he raises two of his fingers, letting taehee know that she was about to choose between two options. she groans. 

“option 1, i’ll pick the least spicy sauce but place a ton of drops,” the snort that comes out of haechan and renjun shows that they like his idea, “or option two, i’ll get the spiciest one and place just a few.” 

“wouldn’t that be the same thing though?” she wonders, finally standing up and scanning the various bottles of hot sauce scattered on the table. jisung shakes his head (cutely, if i may add), “okay, then i’ll go with option 1.”

taehee proceeds to watch jisung get to work, obviously dreading the fact that she was the last to eat among their team. 

“but even if jisung places just a tiny drop,” haechan explains to the camera, “taehee noona’s gonna cry.” 

shouts of protest begin to come from the said girl, but he continues, “like her spice tolerance is really really really really really low.” 

“... 5, 6, 7, 8,” jisung finishes, looking proud at what he had accomplished before handing it over to a nervous taehee. as if to tease her further, mark reaches for the box of tissues on the table and places it in front of her. “these are for your tears,” he jokes. 

a few moments tick by and taehee brings the plate up to her nose, “oh the smell— it’s burning.” chenle laughs, commenting on how his noona was so cute. 

they wait in anticipation as taehee grabs the soft taco and sniffs it again, and it seems that all the walls she had built up until now collapse. 

“AGHHH,” taehee suddenly groans, jeno and mark bursting into laughter once more. “WHAT DO I DO?! I CAN’T EVEN HANDLE THE LESS SPICY SAMYANG RAMEN!!! MARK!!!” she exclaims, brows furrowing in panic as she held tightly onto mark’s arm with her free hand.

“we won’t judge you if you cry, noona,” renjun chuckles. “well, you’re doing a really great job at it so far,” she retaliates.

quickly taking a bite, taehee places the plate down and chews on her food silently, serious eyes looking straight at the camera. “how is it?” mark prompts, but taehee doesn’t answer.

it takes exactly ten seconds of silence until her eyes are filled to the brim with tears, and it worsens all the more as she swallows the food in her mouth, leaving a scorching hot feeling on her tongue down to her throat.

the boys erupt into laughter once more, chenle screaming out on how adorable she was being right now, and she gulps down on nothing to soothe the pain in her mouth.

before taehee can even move to get herself a glass of milk, mark is already handing one in front of her, his, “here you go,” graced with a chuckle.

she downs the contents of the glass quickly, sighing in relief as the spiciness that lingered in her mouth starts to go away.

as if her almost crying in front of the camera wasn’t enough, taehee stumbles back as her head spins, and she would’ve fallen on her bum if mark didn’t hold her up by the waist.

haechan smiles at her endearingly but it comes off as a teasing one, “wah.. are you okay? do you need to sit down?”

taehee just looks up the ceiling and stays unmoving, her eyelids fluttering shut, “the world is spinning so i have decided to not move until it stops.”

2. bless jaemin and taehee 

SUB)역대급헤각장!🔥눈떠보니 좋아하는 SM아이돌이 내앞에 있다면!!?? (feat.NCT DREAM) If My fave IDOLS are watching me..?

“you close your hand first,” taehee tells jaemin after having failed two attempts of their assigned challenge, “and then like da da da...” but jaemin couldn’t hear the beats properly since the rest of dream were also practicing on the sidelines, wanting to do the challenge too. 

taehee plasters an annoyed smile on her face as she rolled her eyes, but jaemin was the first to snap, “BE QUIET!”

“STAY STILL!” taehee adds (much like this) as she raises her hands up in the air, the gesture making everyone in the room laugh. 

3. idk how to explain this but i cant get it out of my head

시즈니이2관왕 (210528)

“‘taehee unnie, please cover your abs so you won’t get cold’,” renjun reads with a polite tone, to which jisung laughs at.

“summer is coming though?” haechan wonders from his seat, “do you want to see mine instead?”

while the others shake their heads against his suggestion, taehee clicks her tongue and raises her brows at him challengingly. “don’t say that,” she tells him, “they’re (the fan) mine.”

“okay okay,” haechan chuckles, and the threatening glare that was on taehee’s face is quickly replaced with a bright smile after hearing his response.

“czennies, i’ll work harder so you can see them more in the future too!” she exclaims, raising her fist up in the air before exaggerating a giggle, “ahihi.”

“what the heck is ‘ahihi’?” jeno snorts, “this noona, really.”

4. i sometimes wonder what goes on in her mind

REACTION to '맛 (Hot Sauce)' with Pinkfong REDREX | NCT DREAM Reaction

"WOAHH!” the sight of the red dinosaur mascot that was walking towards them makes the members’ eyes light up in surprise. “it’s a dinosaur!” haechan shouts, his voice going a pitch higher like a child seeing these extinct creatures in the museum for the first time.

meanwhile, mark, jisung, and taehee poke at its fake teeth in interest, fingers prodding at each tooth that were too dull to be sharp. “its teeth hurt me,” mark winces as he delivers his joke. 

it wasn’t long before taehee’s curiosity got the best of her as she opened the t-rex’s mouth big and wide, her sudden movements causing the rest of dream to erupt in laughter. “noona, what are you doing?” chenle asks with a fond smile. 

taehee pulls away from the mascot, laughing after seeing the surprised eyes of the staff wearing it. “he got so surprised,” taehee chuckles with a grin, before proceeding to imitate what she saw to the camera — eyes as big as saucers and a gasp slipping past her lips.

5. our clumsy baby pls be careful

7 (210413)

“what kind of dog will be created?”

“how far are we taking this?”

“the marriage...”

as the rest continue to explain haechan and daegal’s supposed marriage to jaemin, taehee scoots closer to jisung, who was on the floor, to read the comments the fans were sending. 

“what the,” she mutters, amusement in her tone after reading a comment someone had said about buttholes and teeth and dentists. not noticing that she was right by his ear, jisung jolts in surprise at hearing her voice and the phone, that was also taehee’s, falls from his hands and onto the floor beside him. 

taehee went to pick it up quickly — too quickly, in fact, that she hit her nose on the marble table quite harshly as she bent down to reach the object. 

“OH!” all heads turn to their corner when jisung shouts, taehee recoiling in pain as she held her nose. “why?” mark asks in concern, “what happened?”

while jisung explains through held laughter the situation taehee was in, the female member slowly leans into the couch and meets the eyes of a concerned renjun. 

“can i see?” he asks, and taehee carefully removes her hands just an inch away from her nose bridge that she was pressing against in hopes of relieving the pain. “is it bleeding?”

after noting that her nose was fine and that only a very tiny bruise was starting to form on her bridge, renjun decides to answer, “no, but your nose is starting to look like rudolph.” 

the two-tone haired boy proceeds to sing the infamous christmas song, much to the amusement of haechan and jeno, and taehee slaps his shoulder in retaliation. “stop being annoying!” she groans, causing renjun to release a hearty laugh off his chest, hand comeing down to pat on the top of taehee’s head. “it’s okay, baby,” he coos.

“do you want to get some ice for it?” mark speaks up again, worried gaze still looking over her. taehee removes her fingers from her face again and makes eye contact with him, “do you want to kiss it better instead?”

though it sounded more than a threat than an actual attempt at flirting, jeno sighs, “and she’s back.”

6. clumsy baby pt. 2 (ft. chenle)

[Un Cut] Take #1｜‘맛 (Hot Sauce)’ Jacket Behind the Scene

after seeing mark throw a chip in the air and successfully catching it in his mouth, jaemin turns to taehee who sat beside him on the carpet floor. “can you do that?” he asks, and taehee shakes her head no. “if i do it, i might choke,” yet she’s already grabbing a chip from the yellow bag the latter is currently holding, “watch.”

the food does in fact get stuck in her throat, but only for a short while until she’s coughing it out. “are you crazy?!” jaemin shouts, the amused grin he was wearing contrasting to his scolding tone. taehee could only give him a smile back as she chewed, a mischievous glint present in her eyes. 

at the same time, chenle watches the two with a bemused expression, before turning to the camera and sighing. “you know those people in school who are like, good in tests and get high grades or something?” he asks, “but then they’re super dumb when it comes to things outside of school?”

chenle laughs, “that’s taehee noona.”

“she’s good at dancing, surfing, skateboarding — all the things that require balance,” he explains, “but she’s the clumsiest person i know, as in the clumsiest.”

“it’s alright,” chenle shrugs innocently, “it’s cute.”

7. u can literally hear ‘all i did was try my best this the kinda thanks i get’ #SMFreeTaehee 

💚시즈니 Fㅏ워🏆💚ㅣ맛 (Hot Sauce) 음악방송 대기실 비하인�� #3

“tmi?” jeno repeats before facing jaemin, “tmi.”

“the tmi for today is,” the other starts, eyes wandering around the room until they finally settle on a certain member, “there’s an album that i’ve been listening to ever since it came out, and i’m not even the one playing it.”

a confused hum sounds out of jeno at his member’s statement, his brows furrowing together as he tries to make sense of what jaemin had just said, so when the latter tries to imitate the familiar intro of olivia rodrigo’s ‘brutal’, he finally nods in understanding and agrees with him.

“ahhh,” jeno smiles, looking at the camera, “that’s right, i’ve been hearing it too.”

“this person,” jaemin continues, “plays the music so loud. they don’t use the speakers so it’s not that concerning—“

“that concerning?”

“—to others except when you’re next to them. they play the whole album so loudly in their airpods! then you go like, ‘huh? what?’ and when you look at them, they just have this look on and you go, ‘wow, they’re really going through it’,” he finishes. while he was describing the person’s expression as they listened to their music, jaemin’s mouth forms into a slight frown and his eyes go blank, jeno doing his own version after.

the video cuts to a zoom in on taehee, eyes fixed on one of the white fluorescent lights of their waiting room and mouth pressed into a thin line as she had her airpods on. “look at her right now,” jaemin mumbles from behind camera.

“she’s contemplating her life decisions,” jeno chuckles, “‘what am i doing?’, ‘why am i here?’, ‘who am i?’”

8. miss seeing baekhyun and taehee together :(

💚시즈니 Fㅏ워🏆💚ㅣ맛 (Hot Sauce) 음악방송 대기실 비하인드 #3

haechan summons the rest of the members by playing baekhyun’s ‘bambi’, not knowing that taehee had too much of her sugar intake for the day and currently felt stoked for their stage more than ever.

“BAMBI BAM..BI ~~ !!!!” taehee sings loudly, quickly popping into frame before moonwalking to the side.

“what’s with you today?” mark asks, bemused at the current state of his best friend. “taehee— ah, you can’t do that here,” the smile on his face quickly fades as he puts on a serious expression, his tone reminding taehee of the time haechan was told to do a dance he thought was sexy until the members tried to stop him.

that didn’t hinder her though from going all out on busting the choreography to the second verse, even exaggerating them before renjun and mark had to push her out of the waiting room.

“do you bet she’s still dancing outside?” renjun asks, brushing his hands off after closing the door, and he bursts out laughing after hearing the rest of the members agree with his question.

they open the door literally 15 minutes later to reveal taehee, both hands full as she waited patiently on her phone. “where did you get that?” mark chuckles, referring to the grape flavored juice can on her left.

“the vending machine,” taehee shrugs.

“did you dance all the way there?”

“yup.”

mark’s eyes seem to look at her with endearment, “really?”

“mhmm.... i sang too.”

9. i think we all have an idea of what she’s singing here

[Un Cut] Take #2｜‘고래 (Dive Into You) + Rainbow (책갈피) +Diggity’ Track Video Behind the Scene

before filming the choreography parts of the track video for ‘diggity’, the members wait for the director’s cue to start as they all engage themselves in their own conversations — haechan asking jisung for a hug, jeno and mark talking about anything under the sun, and chenle and renjun singing the lyrics to the songs in their album.

meanwhile, jaemin studies taehee with an unreadable expression, the latter dancing idly to the current song stuck in her head at the time.

“she made some plans with my mmm tonight. she not with him tonight. she not with jim tonight,” and it almost seems like taehee had no absolute clue of the words that flew out of her mouth, like she was in some sort of trance, “she in the gym tonight.”

“workout in that nana,” she pretends to throw something in the air, and reading her mind, jaemin simultaneously ‘hits the woah’ with her as they both shout, “AYEE!”

10. dude didnt even hesitate

7DREAM return! 7+맛=Show #우정의_A컷Z컷 #우정월드컵

“alright! the next one is for taehee .... would you rather keep your friendship ring and miss a chance to meet taylor swift or lose it and get a chance to collab with taylor sw—”

“COLLAB WITH TAYLOR SWIFT!!!!”

jeno and jaemin were the only ones laughing as the rest of the dreamies looked at her in disbelief. haechan’s hand even comes up to rub the back of his neck as if his blood pressure was going up, yet the proud grin that was on taehee’s lips does not falter.

“don’t you have to think about this first?” mark tells her, pulling her raised arm by the elbow until it was placed by her side.

“she didn’t even hesitate,” renjun gasps, “noona!”

“a ring is a ring—“

“it’s a symbol of our friendship!” haechan argues, meeting eyes with her.

the host begins to laugh at the ruckus taehee’s answer had caused, and the female idol retaliated, “mark and jisung have lost their rings a couple of times but why are you only reacting like this to me?!”

“you answered right away!” the brown haired vocalist says right back before his lips turn into a little pout.

“okay, okay,” taehee nods turning back to their host, “can you please ask the question again?”

even the group of staff behind the camera burst out laughing, “again?”

mark pushes taehee’s shoulder playfully as he shook with uncontrollable laughter, her polite expression remaining on her features as she waited patiently for the emcee to repeat the question.

“taehee-ssi, would you rather keep your friendship ring and miss a chance to meet taylor swift or lose it and get a chance to collab with taylor swift?”

“mmm,” taehee pretends to ponder, her brows furrowing together as she juts out her bottom lip into a pout, “a collaboration with my favorite artist seems like a once in a lifetime experience....”

“but, haechan’s right, the ring is a symbol of our friendship, which i value so much,” taehee says into the mic, some of the dreamies’ chuckles fading in the background. “we’ve been through a lot together — we’ve been happy and sad and all sorts of things together, and seeing how close we are now, i could say that this,” she gestures to all of them, “would stand the test of time.”

“ohhh,” the boys hum, nodding impressed at her answer. “not only a lifetime but would stand the test of time,” the emcee emphasizes.

“so i will pick option b.”

“NOONA!”

#taeheecut #taehee.sns #nct #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #wayv #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct blurbs #nct reactions #nct au #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct angst #nct female member #nct female addition #kpop female oc #kpop female addition

[theimmaterialplace]

holding on | emily prentiss x reader & spencer reid x reader | ch. 1: prologue

Summary: Emily is an easy person to love, even if you shouldn't. This becomes apparent when she leaves you after two years of hiding your relationship, if you could call it that, with just a text. It's not long after that you are alerted with news of her death and you break down completely. Confiding in Spencer, the one to introduce the two of you, seemed like a good idea at the time but it becomes something more. You slowly begin to heal and then one day you see her, alive and well, and every feeling you have for her comes back to you. You're met with both your present and your past and you don't know what to do.

Contains: female!reader, bisexual!reader, friends with benefits/ hidden relationships, mentions of death, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2k

A.N: I like making things complicated and messy so here we are! I hope you enjoy whatever the hell this is! Also, this is first time writing for cm so sorry if the characterization is off; we’ll get there eventually!

masterlist | read on ao3

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and hold you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

And I can wish all I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me

I know it's for the better

- Phoebe Bridgers, "Waiting Room"

It’s not uncommon for you to wait on Emily but even this is a new level of tardiness you’ve never encountered with her. She’s nothing if not kind and always alerts you when she’s on a new case or has to reschedule. It worries you to say the least.

You really shouldn’t care this much for her but mistakes are supposed to be made. It’s just that you can’t even begin to consider Emily a mistake but if she is one, she’s the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Sometimes, you think she looks at you with something akin to adoration in her eyes and it takes every bit of your control not to look at her with that same exact look. She’s a profiler, after all, and you’re typically one to wear your heart on your sleeve but she made herself very clear in the beginning.

Your agreement was simply just a friends with benefits situation, no feelings involved. That lasted for a while, truly. You had managed a little over a year with her before you realized that the feeling in your stomach was the fluttering of butterflies. It had frightened you but you decided that she was worth it, even if the decision might come back to haunt you.

Twirling the wine of glass in your hand, you contemplate calling her but decide against it because you don’t want to seem desperate. It may be an accurate description but you weren’t going to show that. Ignoring the waiter who’s been shooting you knowing looks for the past hour, you decide just to leave. You call the waiter over and ask for the check. He just nods at your words; his eyes filled with pity and it pisses you off more than anything,

It’s not that you care that you got stood up because you understand that her work is demanding. It’s more that you’re worried for her because she’s been inactive and short in her recent messages. You hadn’t received a good morning or good night text in days. It makes you wonder if she’s finally gotten sick of you. You’d like to believe that she would at least grace you with a text informing you of this decision but you’re not the best at predicting her.

Emily is a very closed off person and you respect that, you do. It’s just sometimes you wish she didn’t compartmentalize every part of her life into tiny, separate boxes. She likes to pretend that you and Spencer aren’t friends, even though it’s how you were originally met. She tells you that no one needs to know and at the beginning, you were okay with this but lying to Spencer is something you wish you didn’t have to do.

You have to pretend not to know every little bit of Emily she shares with you that she also shares with her team and try not to focus on every little detail he shares about her that you don’t already know. You feel a bit guilty but you figure that she wouldn’t really mind. The only thing that would make her annoyed, never mad because she says anger is useless, is if you mixed her personal life with her work life. You understand to a degree but you also wish that you didn’t have to hide.

Clearly, you were too far gone for her. You always had to take a step back and remember that you weren’t in a relationship with her. If only she didn’t make it so easy to love her. When this ended, you were going to end up heartbroken and that was okay with you. You had accepted that a long time ago but now that you’re actually faced with the inevitable, it scares you.

Emily Prentiss was not the first woman you were with but she’ll be the one to always haunt you. She’s shaped you into the person you are today without even knowing it. You’ll never regret your decision to be with her but you’ll always be left with the “what ifs”.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the man who sits across from you and it’s only until he coughs that he brings you back to reality.

He’s handsome in a rugged sort of way. If you weren’t so enamored with Emily, he surely would have fired something in you but as it is, she is the only one able to cause a spark in you.

“Hi, I saw you here and couldn’t help but notice how you’re alone. Such a shame since you seem like such a catch.” His voice fits him well and he has a nice smile despite its crookedness.

“Ah, my date couldn’t make it. I guess he got busy with work or something. It happens to the best of us.” His eyes narrow the slightest bit at use of “he” and you wonder why. He’s the one hitting on you, after all. It’s gone as soon as it comes and he’s back to those kind eyes.

“Oh, he’s one of those. Well, I know when I’m unwanted when I hear it. Have a lovely night…” He shoots you one last smile and gets up and leaves the restaurant. The waiter shows up and you pay immediately and get into your car as soon as you can.

It’s only when you arrive at home do you see it. You have one new message from Emily and it brings a smile to your face until you see the contents.

Emily <3

I think it’s time we called it quits.

Don’t contact me anymore.

Goodbye.

At first, you feel nothing. You reread it and reread it until it’s practically ingrained into your vision. You knew it was coming but seeing it actually made it real and before you know it, you’re crying.

You feel like a fool because you’ve known that this was just a casual thing for her. It doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Perhaps what hurts the most is her demand to not contact her anymore. You would have been fine, loving her at a distance but remaining friends. Emily cutting you off completely had never been a possibility in your mind. It almost makes you want to laugh though because although you’d never thought of it, it’s such an Emily thing to do. You just never thought it’d be something to happen to you.

A fool, you might be, but better to have loved than to have not. It’s like you had thought earlier, Emily would never leave you, even if she had in person. There would always be reminders of her in your life; in the interior design of your home, in the music you listened to, in the movies and books you had shared together, and in the hidden, ignored corners of your heart.

It hurt. God, did her short messages pain you but you’d seen it coming. You had time to accept it but that did nothing to quell the tears that fell down your face or the sobs that wracked your body.

You cry yourself to sleep, still in the dress she bought you, the one she said you looked your best in and always brought out her coyness to the fullest.

When you wake up, you’re thankful it’s a Saturday because you can’t imagine facing anyone today. The most you want to do is get drunk on every bottle of wine you own, which is quite a few. You hope it’ll be enough to keep your mind off of Emily.

You go to the bathroom and you can’t help but wince at the image you make. Your makeup has run all over your face and you look like la llorona with the mascara and eyeliner running down your cheeks. Your lipstick is smeared beyond comprehension and overall, you look like a mess, not even a hot one at that.

You look like the stereotypical girl who has just gotten heartbroken and so you scrub it all off until your skin is clear of the previous night’s emotions. You change into something comfortable, throwing the dress into the hamper rather than the trash because you can’t bear the thought of throwing away things from her. Maybe it’d be the smart thing to do but you can’t.

You’re in a sort of limbo and you’re unsure of where to go from here. You’ve accidentally built up your life around her and now that she’s gone, you’re left with nothing but yourself.

-

It’s only a week later that Spencer shows up to your place, looking worse for wear. He looks like you did on that day when Emily broke up with you but worse. His eyes are bloodshot and his nose is bright red against his pale complexion.

“Um, could I come in?” His voice cracks and he only shrinks further into himself and you nod at him, opening the door to accompany his skinny frame.

You guide him to your couch and place the cup of tea you had made for yourself into his hands since it seemed like they needed something in them with all the twitching they were doing.

You sit in silence, knowing that whatever he had to say would eventually come out.

His tea has stopped steaming when he finally speaks up. “Today, my colleague was taken by the person she had been chasing after. We found her and apprehended the person she had been chasing but… But we were too late. By the time we had gotten there, she was already wounded and she was pronounced dead two hours, thirteen minutes, and twenty seven seconds ago. She’s dead and I never got to say goodbye.” With his proclamation, his tears begin again and you take the cup from his hands.

“May I hug you, Spencer?” He nods and that’s all it takes for you to take him into your arms. He sobs into the crook of your neck. It’s hard to connect the image of the nerd you know and care for to the man who’s breaking down in your arms. You rub soothing circles on his back and try to keep up with his words but they’re too quiet and unintelligible to your ears.

The both of you sit there like that for a while. It could have been five minutes or an hour but you can’t tell and you bet he can’t either.

When he finally runs out of tears, he whispers something so quietly that you think you’ve misheard him.

“I never got to say goodbye to Emily.”

Emily . She’s his colleague. He had said she in his retelling of the events. It takes your breath away and you have to stop the tears from coming on because you’re not supposed to care for her, not like this. Not in front of anybody, especially not Spencer.

She’s dead. Emily is dead. It’s a truth you don’t want to accept. It makes you glad that Spencer is still hidden in your neck because you’re sure your face can only show the agony you feel over such a reveal.

Your worst nightmare has come true, it seems. You don’t want this. Anything but her leaving you permanently. She can’t be dead, not the woman who’s changed you so irrevocably and made you feel like life was worth living.

You could accept loving her in quiet, away from her, but not at the cost of her death. You can’t deal with this, not when Spencer needs you so push it away. You shove the pain and agony down until you’re numb.

You’re supposed to be nothing but an acquaintance to her. She hadn’t even loved you. You shouldn’t feel like your heart has been ripped violently from your body and that your soul will always have an Emily sized hole left in the wake of her death.

You focus on Spencer so that you don’t break down and you’re grateful that he doesn’t notice your little episode. You can’t confront this in front of anybody. It’s better to deal with your grief in private, just like everything else you did with Emily. It made sense for the last thing you’ll ever do for her to stay quiet and watch from afar.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #my writing #holding on

[h2bakugou]

Hewoo I saw requests were open and this really cute idea popped in my head can get a lot of fluff with Denki where he surprises his s/o on they're anniversary in front of the whole school

a/n: hiii!! ooo this is so cute omg, we stan denki. please i- i love him so much i cant

summary: with your one-year anniversary coming up soon, kaminari had every intention of making it big, he’d been dating you for a whole year! however, his plan may or may get a little out of his hands when he ends up confessing in front of nearly the whole school.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, a camp rock line(i never watched high school musical sorry)

word count: 1.8k

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

Kaminari had met you in secondary school, the year before you both got into U.A. It was coincidentally on a whim when your class collaborated with his on a debate project on some literature project. 

You were paired together, four students from your class on a team with four from his class.

He was goofy, light-hearted, kind, and way too flirty for his age, but you ignored his cheesy pick-up lines until you won the debate.

He’d asked to exchange numbers at the very least since you’d become friends. And that friendship kindled over time, so much so, that you were both over the moon about applying to U.A. together. 

And before you knew it, Kaminari was walking hand-in-hand with you home from the park, or from the grocery store, the two of you often hanging out together over break, excited to be making dinner one night, or happy to help out over at his house.

Needless to say, a few of those long summer nights when you spent time in the pool alone with him, you couldn’t help but let out how you really feel, the two of you eventually establishing something more than a friendship.

You headed to the entrance exams as a couple, and you were both too happy to speak when you saw one another in class the following week.

And now you sat in the Class 1-A dormitory common room, Kaminari’s body between your legs as you put up his hair, a face mask applied to both of your faces as you giggled and reminisced about your time together, your anniversary of being together for one year coming up soon.

“Remember the one time you had to go to the ER because of the shopping cart accident?” Kaminari brought up a rather embarrassing story.

“That poor old lady was petrified, she thought she’d killed me.” You and Kaminari had been goofing off in the grocery store parking lot, returning the cart to its drop-off when an old lady backed out into the cart you were standing on.

It tilted back and you saved yourself from landing face-first on the asphalt at the expense of your right arm. It hurt like a bitch and you had to wear a cast for about a month before your arm healed up enough to do much more.

“You were so worried.” You teased, braiding his yellow hair between your fingers. He lifted his head to look up at you, a pout on his lips. 

“I thought you died too!” Kaminari cooed, pressing a kiss to your knee as he turned back around to let you continue playing with his hair.

“You’re an idiot.” Bakugou mumbled. Kirishima sat beside you, along with Sero, who also had face masks on. They begged to be included in the self-care session and were happily enjoying themselves listening to all your stories.

“So final jam’s coming up.” Kaminari blurted.

“What?!” You laughed, confused at his words.

“T-The final jam?” Kaminari turned back around to stare at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Are you referring to our anniversary as the final jam?” You glared at the yellow-blonde.

“I’m sorry! I had to.” Kaminari stood up and grabbed your hand, yanking you off of the couch.

“That’s right, you’ve been together for a while now huh?” Sero mentioned, glancing over at Bakugou who seemed to be interested in the idea of Kaminari holding a relationship longer than a week.

“One whole year.” Kaminari stared at you with adoration in his eyes, and you were worried if he stared any harder his eyes would pop out. Your face was hot at his words. 

You felt all giddy and warm inside. You really did love Kaminari, and getting to this point felt so amazing, so refreshing. 

“That’s awesome! Congrats!” Kirishima was quick to congratulate you both on the seemingly wild accomplishment.

Later during the night, after washing off the face mask and finishing up your routine, you walked back to your dorm with Kaminari.

“I really couldn’t be more excited for our anniversary.” Kaminari’s hands rested in yours as he pulled you in for a hug.

“I know, I’m excited too. You gonna take me out on a big date?” You tease, hugging him.

“I’m broke!” Kaminari whines, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

“I’m kidding. I just wanna spend the day with you, playing video games and-”

“Cuddling.” Kaminari offers, his eyes sparkling.

“Cuddling.” You agree, leaning in, pressing your lips to his. It’s a short kiss, but it’s meaningful, and tender, and passionate. It holds just enough emotion to convey how warm you feel inside. It’s electrifying, pun intended.

“I love you, sweet dreams.” Kaminari whispers as you begin to open your dorm door. You smile and wave.

“I love you too, goodnight.” You reply, closing the door after he leaves.

That night you tuck yourself into bed, happier than usual. You’re almost too excited to even sleep. But eventually, your dreams call you and you’re drifting away before you can even realize it.

The day of your anniversary, you’re a giddy mess. Kaminari and you are practically in each other’s arms the entire morning, hoping that you aren’t being that annoying couple. You’re keeping the PDA down to simple hand-holding even though you’d much rather embrace him and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe.

But you had classes. The mushy-gushy stuff could wait till later. When Aizawa couldn’t yell at you.

During the day, Kaminari and you both ended up surprising one another with little gifts, tiny trinkets just to show that you were thinking of each other. Kaminari of course bought you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, whereas you managed to snag a pretty rose for him and a new game for his console.

He was over the moon about the rose and claimed he was going to cherish it forever. It was so sweet.

That was until lunch rolled around.

“There the love birds are!” Mina cheered as you and Kaminari sat down at the table. Almost the entire class was aware of what was today, and a few peers congratulated you on being together for one year.

“Hush!” Your face burned with embarrassment as you nuzzled into Kaminari’s shoulder, swatting away at your pink-haired friend.

“You guys are so cute!” She teased, taking another bite of her lunch.

Lunch was abruptly interrupted when Kaminari said he had to go somewhere. You were a bit surprised by his exclamation but you said goodbye as he left.

“What’s with that?” You asked, a defeated sigh coming from your lips.

“Don’t know. Maybe he’s got another gift for you.” Mina nudged your side. You shook your head and covered your face.

“Please! I can’t take any more gifts from him, I just wanna spend quality time with him and do stupid lovey-dovey couple’s crap.” You groan.

Kaminari was racing toward the AV room where he had agreed to meet another student for something he had commissioned for you. It was a delicate glass frame with a picture of you and him embossed into it.

Of course by the time he arrived, he was running late. He blamed you for being so captivating, of course though, it wasn’t an issue that he was late, the student was there, happy as could be to have been commissioned for a project.

And the result was beautiful. It was truly wonderful, and Kaminari was almost in tears at how delicate and amazing it looked. Kaminari had already paid the student when he brought up the idea, and now he was finally here to get it.

It was wrapped in a beautiful box, carefully surrounded with bio-degradable filler to prevent it from breaking. 

“Thank you so much for doing this, it’s so important to me.” Kaminari placed the box down on the table in the AV room, unaware that he’d set it down on the button that turned on the intercom for student news, etc.

Kaminari had set it down because he was afraid he’d drop it on a whim somehow.

“They’re just so important to me, I can’t explain it. They’re the one, ya know?” Kaminari’s voice rang throughout the intercom system.

Your ears perked up, your face begging to sear with heat. 

“I think I’ve always loved (Y/n). When we met I could just feel the world stop and all I could see was them. And from there I knew, I wanted to spend every waking moment with them.” Kaminari was completely unaware that his words were now being heard throughout the entire school building.

“Oh my god.” Kirishima looked at you. Everyone that knew you, was staring at you. You couldn’t help but feel touched. You could feel your eyes swelling with tears, happy tears.

“I live to see them smile, and their laugh? It’s music to my ears. I’m so in love with them. I’d spend a million years of my life with them, today marks one.” Kaminari’s words were cut short by a teacher barging through the door. Quickly turning to see the commotion, Kaminari was confused when the teacher started yelling about using the intercom for personal reasons.

That’s when Kaminari’s eyes shot down to where he’d sat the box, and now noticed the blinking red light that confirmed the intercom was actively broadcasting.

Blush spread like fire across his face and ears, as he quickly grabbed the box and stormed back to the cafeteria where you were still eating lunch.

Barging in, you lifted your head, smiling like an idiot as he ran toward you.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that I- It was true, all of it, but I didn’t mean to embarrass you or or-”

Your lips on his shut him up as your rested your hands on his shoulders, completely silencing him. His hands held onto the box in front of him, his lips moving together against yours.

A few cheers and ‘woos’ came from fellow students but you couldn’t hear them. You were completely capsulated by Kaminari and the electric love blossoming between the two of you.

Pulling away in a haze, all you could see was him.

“I love you so much.” You smiled.

Later, after a decent scolding from Aizawa and another teacher, you were let go and finally allowed to go to your dorm.

Placing the delicate glass picture up on your shelf you then pulled Kaminari onto your bed, nuzzling into his side.

“This is what I was waiting for.” Kaminari cuddled into you, wrapping around you like a sloth as you laid on his stomach doing the same.

“This is an average Tuesday for us.” You mumbled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Well, I like my average Tuesdays with you, dummy.” Kaminari smiled, clicking on your tv to watch something as you cuddled.

The anniversary was a success. And who cared if nearly the whole school knew about how strongly you felt for one another. You were happy, Kaminari was happy, and you couldn’t wait to spend more time with him.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

#kaminari #denki #denki kaminari #kaminari denki #kaminari x reader #denki x reader #kaminari denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

[timelesslords]

fluff 3 or fluff 10 please!!! (i love all ur fics sm)

ty <3! I went with a very loose interpretation of fluff 10 (are we on a date right now?) for this one lol

send me a sentence starter and I’ll fill it for Percabeth

“Are we on a date right now?”

“We’re on a mission right now. Focus, Seaweed Brain.”

Percy had sort of known that already, but if this was genuinely a mission and not a date, Annabeth wasn’t exactly dressed for the occasion. She was wearing a white summer dress, short and flowy, patterned with tiny cherries. The light fabric contrasted with her tan skin, making it seem to glow gold in the sunlight. Her long curly hair tumbled free over her shoulders, out of its usual practical ponytail.

Of course, she had an imperial gold knife strapped to her thigh under her skirt, but that didn’t negate the impracticality of the outfit otherwise. Not that Percy was complaining— she looked gorgeous. Still, it left him a little confused. 

“But we are like, on a date,” Percy said. 

“We’re pretending to be on a date,” Annabeth corrected. 

It was a sunny California day, and they were sitting on an outdoor patio of a restaurant. A restaurant that was in the mortal world, not New Rome, and although Percy had been debriefed beforehand, he was having trouble seeing exactly where the date ended and mission began. 

“You’re my girlfriend,” Percy pointed out. 

“So?” 

“So doesn’t that make this fake date a real date?”  

“No,” Annabeth said shortly, taking a sip of her sweet tea. Her straw was already stained with the lipstick she was wearing, red to match the cherries on her dress.

“I’m confused,” Percy admitted.  

“I explained this before we left.”

“And I was as confused then as I am now.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, long and hard. Gods, she was hot when she was annoyed at him. Which was a very dangerous thought to have, because if she wasn’t he might be more careful about antagonizing her. 

“We’re pretending to be on this nice lunch date so that we can keep an eye on that server over there,” Annabeth said, tilting her head surreptitiously towards one of the waiters dealing with a table to their right, a kid with dark hair who looked maybe 16. 

“Who might be a half-blood,” Percy remembered. He had been paying some attention when she explained it earlier. 

“Right.”

“Wouldn’t bringing the two of us here drive out any monsters that are here?” Percy asked, frowning, “I mean, not to brag or anything, but I’ve been told I smell tasty.” 

“That’s kind of the idea,” Annabeth said, taking another sip of tea. 

“You didn’t mention that before we left,” Percy said, only a touch accusatory.  

And, okay, he probably should have seen this coming. If there was a monster stalking the kid, which given his age, was likely, Percy and Annabeth’s presence would be enough to draw it out. Then they could get rid of it and send the kid along to whatever camp he was suited for. It was very up Annabeth’s alley, what with its kill-two-birds-with-one-stone approach.

“You hadn’t gotten that far,” Annabeth said. If she was bothered by Percy’s tone, she didn’t show it. In fact, she looked like she was trying not to laugh.  

“Hadn’t gotten that far in what?” Percy asked, playing along. 

“In understanding the plan,” Annabeth said. 

“You made this convoluted on purpose,” Percy said, grinning, and now it was a genuine accusation— an amused one, but an accusation all the same. Annabeth just shrugged innocently. 

“It’s not my fault good plans are complex sometimes,” she said.  

“Were you just counting on me thinking this was a date so I would agree to go?” Percy asked. 

“No,” Annabeth said, though her eyes flickered away from his for just a second. 

“You’re a bad liar,” Percy said, affectionately.

“No I’m not,” Annabeth rebuffed, bristling, “I specifically told you before we left that this was a fake date.” 

“I would have gone anyway,” Percy said. It was true. He would probably go anywhere Annabeth asked him to, but a simple recon mission to pick up a possible half-blood really was no sweat. Even if monsters were involved.

“It was easier this way,” Annabeth said. She was fighting to keep the smile off her face now, he could see the corners of her mouth twitching.

“Easier for you,” Percy said, grinning openly. 

“Well, I wasn’t about to make it easier for you,” Annabeth said, smile finally breaking through. 

“So you lured me on the promise of a nice date out with my girlfriend and instead I’m sitting here as monster bait,” Percy said, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.  

“I lured you out with the promise of a fake date,” Annabeth amended, “And I mentioned everything but the monsters beforehand.”

“You could’ve mentioned the monsters.”

Annabeth shrugged again, unconcerned.

“I knew you would get there eventually.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“Anytime babe.” 

“I really would have come anyway.” 

“I know, that’s why I didn’t feel bad. It was just more fun this way,” Annabeth said, smiling around the straw of her drink.

“For you,” Percy said, though he was smiling too. 

“I like watching you figure out my plans,” Annabeth said,   

Percy raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh, do you?” 

Annabeth flushed a little at that, but unfortunately did not have a chance to respond. At that exact moment there was a loud crash a few tables over, a piercing scream rippling through the air. Percy and Annabeth exchanged a look.

“Looks like our date is over,” Percy sighed, pulling Riptide out of his pocket.

“Fake date,” Annabeth corrected, knife already in hand.

“Raincheck for a real one?” he asked, uncapping his sword. She flashed him a grin. 

“Always.” 

#percabeth #percabeth oneshot #percabeth fluff #percabeth fic #pjo fic #hoo fic #Annabeth chase #percy jackson #pjo #hoo #much like Annabeth i am killing two birds with one stone with this one #answering this ask + hitting a trope bingo box #I'm sort of doing these out of order sorry whoops

[angelikook]

How to Find Your Soulmate

Pairing(s): Non-idol!Namjoon x reader

Genre: Tooth-rotting fluff, teensy bit of angst

Word Count: 10.2k

Warning(s): None

Summary: Where a journey to find his soulmate took a different turn.

A/n I wrote this as a spur in the moment thing, but it surprisingly came out really well.

The familiar sound of keys jiggling from his front door was a sure sign that he was about to lose whatever amount of peacefulness in his tiny apartment. As he braced himself for what was about to come, the door swung open and came in the person he had been waiting for.

Y/n was her name. Peculiar, wild, and random. Her hair basically could represent her entire personality. Unruly, messy, and out of control. She'd been a loner for most of her lifetime. Definitely a big believer in “I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need no man”.

It also came as a surprise to Namjoon when he couldn’t help but to be attached to her a long time ago when they were kids. And ever since that, he had gained a new best friend. Or more like the best friend since he didn’t have that many best friends to begin with.

“Joon, let’s go! We have things to do.” Y/n grabbed on his arm and tried to pull him up from his slouched position on his couch. The couch that became worn out so quickly for its rather frequent use whenever he was stressed.

In his defense, it wasn’t his fault that the couch was so comfy.

Failing to pull him up, Y/n groaned in frustration. “Come on! There’s a bazaar downtown that I wanna check. Can’t have me go alone at this time, right?”

“I don’t wanna get up. Let’s just watch Netflix,” he said as he turned on the TV.

Y/n snatched the remote from his hand and turned the TV back off. “Nope. Let’s go. Tomorrow is Saturday anyways, you can watch the TV all you want.”

Namjoon sighed. “What do I get for this?”

Y/n grinned and cupped her cheeks. “You get to spend time with me.”

“Ugh, I don’t want that,” he teased as he pulled himself up from the couch. “I'm tired of seeing your face.”

“You, mister.” She jabbed her finger at him. “Owe me a boba tea, remember? Now is the perfect time to redeem yourself.”

“Remind me not to wake you up again on Sunday mornings.” He shuddered at the memory of seeing bed headed Y/n screaming on top of her lungs, telling him not to wake her up from her beauty sleep or whatever.

“Are you seriously wearing that, though?” he asked as he eyed Y/n’s outfit.

She still wore the same outfit that she had worn since this morning. There was a noticeable coffee stain on her left cufflinks, indicating she probably had bumped her mug with her hand by accident. Her skirt was already crinkled especially on the bottom part. Disclaimer, he totally did not just check her out. Her heels made her feet red and look swollen. They clearly cut off her circulation, but somehow she insisted on wearing them anyways, claiming that she felt sexy and smart and beautiful in them.

“They look uncomfortable,” Namjoon had commented one day after noticing how her heels made Y/n walk weirdly. “Why don’t you just wear sneakers?”

Y/n scoffed, as if what he had said was ridiculous. “Real women don't wear sneakers to work, Joon.”

“Whatever you say, Y/n.” Namjoon had tried hard to stop the urge of rolling his eyes.

Ever since that, he didn’t even want to talk about her heels. “Let her suffer if she wanted that,” he always reminded himself.

Y/n walked to his full-length mirror inside his room and stared at herself. “What’s wrong with this?”

“Just change into more comfortable clothes,” Namjoon said from the living room. “You’d look out of place."

With that, Y/n closed the bedroom door behind her and grumbled. “This is perfectly fine. People do go out after work to a bazaar.”

She actually said more than that. Way more. But at this point, he didn’t even bother to listen to her. It wasn’t like this was his first time ignoring her blabbers. And he was pretty sure she was used to it, too.

Minutes later, Y/n came out to the living room wearing Namjoon’s hoodie and sweatpants. She even managed to find a pair of his sandals that he thought was gone. Sure her outfit now swallowed her, but at least it was more comfortable.

“Alright, let’s go!” was the last thing she said before they left his apartment.

A boba tea and a corn dog later, Namjoon and Y/n were walking aimlessly. They were just following the direction other people were taking, not really sure themselves where they would end up.

“Aren’t you glad I forced you out of that stuffy apartment?”

“Nope. I still rather be on my couch.”

Y/n frowned. “What?” She gestured to their surroundings. “This is so much better.” She saw a small bench and sat on it, gesturing to him to sit beside her. “I think you need to take a breather and just relax, my dude. Whatever problems you have at work, they don’t exist for now.”

“It’s easy for you to say that.”

Y/n slurped hard on her drink, trying to get as many bobas as possible into her mouth. “You-”. Chew. “-think too much-”. Chew. “-of things you can’t-”. Chew. “-control.”

“Okay, finish your drink first. That’s disgusting.”

Y/n laughed while trying to stop her bobas from coming out of her mouth. After succeeding to suppress her laughter, she chewed on the bobas thoroughly before swallowing them.

“You’re an overthinker who misses on great things in life just because you’re too caught up in your problems. And when you realize you missed those things, it’ll be all too late.” Y/n then continued finishing her drink in silence while he was registering what she just said.

He was so focused on his thoughts to the point he didn’t even realize when Y/n had left him to find a trash can. He was only drawn back to reality when Y/n came to him running and yelling his name in excitement.

Y/n spoke in rapid speed to the point she sounded like speaking gibberish. The only thing he heard was “fortune teller” before Y/n yanked on his hand and dragged him to a small kiosk.

The kiosk was mostly empty. No customers were surrounding it unlike other kiosks. But it wasn’t what set it apart from the others. It was the big letters in front of it that read “fortune teller” in big bold text. Inside, there was only one woman sitting, unmoving, seemingly reading something, a book maybe.

Aware of his and Y/n’s presence, the fortune teller looked up from the book and smiled at them both. Unlike what the media portrayed fortune tellers were, that they were scary and mysterious, her smile was warm and friendly.

“Is there something I can do?” The fortune teller closed the book and stood up.

“Yes!” Y/n replied. “My friend here-” She gestured to Namjoon “-wants to know his future.” After a few seconds of pause, she added, “And about his soulmate too, please.”

Before he could respond, the fortune teller beat him to it. “Very well.” The fortune teller cracked her knuckles before staring deep into his eyes. Her gaze somehow made him feel naked, vulnerable.

They hold their gaze for a while. As seconds became minutes, he felt breathless, and hot. The gaze that at first was soft but strong, became sharper and almost felt painful. But not long after, the fortune teller focused back at Y/n who stood still beside him, gawking at her. He could finally let out a breath that he didn’t realize he had been holding.

“From what I can tell, your friend is on the right track. He’s doing well, but he won’t be if he can’t appreciate the simple things in life,” the fortune teller explained. “As for his soulmate, he already knows who they are, he even knows where they are. The only thing left for him to do is just to figure it out within himself.”

The thing was, he didn’t believe in fortune tellers, astrology, and whatnot. He never even cared about things like that. But seeing Y/n’s grin and the glint in her eyes as she thanked the fortune teller and gave her a tip, he didn’t say anything against it. As much as Y/n called him boring, he wasn’t the type to burst people’s bubble of happiness.

Throughout the walk to Y/n’s apartment, she kept talking about what the fortune teller had said.

“Gosh, I can’t believe you know who your soulmate is.” Y/n lightly punched on his arm. “You never tell me anything.”

Namjoon shrugged. “What’s there to talk about? I don’t know who my soulmate is either. I apparently need to figure it out myself.”

“I know what we can do!”

This sounded like he was about to be in for a bad time. “What?”

“Let’s go do something different! Maybe you'll find your revelation or whatever.”

He really wanted to scoff. “How does that even work?”

“Don’t know. But it's worth a try. Do you want to figure out who your soulmate is or not?”

Of course he did. “Of course I do. What kind of question... ”

Y/n clapped her hands together. “Good! Tomorrow I’ll pick you up. Get ready for a week full of surprises.”

“Wait what? I never signed up for this.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “You did sign up. You said you want to find your soulmate.”

“But not tomorrow!” he raised his voice in frustration. “We have work on Monday.”

“Just call your boss that you’ll be gone for a week.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Dude, bro, my guy, you need to live in the moment. Plus, you haven’t taken a leave in years. Years, Namjoon.”

He inhaled long and hard before exhaling it slowly. His best friend seriously was going to be the death of him.

“Please.” Y/n looked up at him. He suddenly became aware of the massive height difference they had.

It wasn't that Y/n was short. She said it herself that she was the average height although he didn’t really believe that. She just looked so tiny compared to him. But, on the other side, Namjoon was quite tall for a guy around his age.

He groaned. “Ugh, not the puppy eyes. Seriously.”

“Does that mean I win?” There was a soft gleam of hope in her eyes.

Namjoon was a strong man. At least, that was what everyone who knew him had said about him. So it was weird for the always composed and well mannered man to have a weakness. And to have that weakness took in the form of his childhood best friend was even weirder. What in his best friend that didn’t exist in literally anything that could melt his heart like no other? Puppies and kittens could never even compare. His cute bonsais, too, couldn’t even compare.

He might never find the answer to that. Heck maybe he found out about his soulmate before he could answer that. He could only shook his head in disbelief as Y/n put her bunny headband on his hair.

It was Saturday at 8 a.m, the morning after the fortune teller incident. Y/n simply invited herself into his apartment while he was still in the shower. It was one of the things he regretted after giving her the keys to his apartment. It was meant to be used during emergencies, not for her getting all cozy here and thinking this was her place.

He was walking out of the bedroom, fully dressed and ready for the day, when he heard a sizzling sound coming from the kitchen. He stepped closer to the kitchen and as it came into view, he saw Y/n cooking with her back facing him.

He thought he was being quiet, but apparently not because Y/n turned around and greeted him with a beaming smile.

"Morning! I'm making you some omelette and there's coffee on the table." She pointed at the mug on the table with smoke still puffing out of it. "Exactly two teaspoons as you like it." Then she continued cooking as if nothing had happened.

He was speechless as he looked at the mess in his kitchen. Egg shells on the floor, ketchup smeared all over the kitchen counter, and some puddles on the floor could be seen. It was as if a tornado just came.

“What is all this?” he asked when he finally found his voice.

Y/n carefully plated the omelette before proudly putting the plate beside the coffee. “This is what I call breakfast. Bet you usually only drink coffee in the morning.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Look at the kitchen, Y/n! Who’s gonna clean up after this?”

Y/n took a look around the kitchen with a readable and all too familiar facial expression.

“I know what you’re gonna say,” Namjoon said as he took a seat. “And to that, I say, I don’t want to clean up your mess. You clean it up.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Fine, geez. A thank you would be nice.”

“You not making a mess would be appreciated.”

“Touché."

Usually when he had coffee in the morning, he felt that adrenaline rush. The kind that made you feel giddy, restless, and even made you tremble. This time, thanks to Y/n's cooking, he didn’t feel any of those. He was tempted to tell Y/n about this, but in the end, he just kept it to himself. He didn’t want to fuel her ego. It wasn’t a very good idea to do that so early into this “Journey to Find Namjoon’s Soulmate” or whatever Y/n had called it last night.

Even if he told him all those things, chances were she wasn’t going to listen to him as she was busy admiring her work on his hair. The bunny headband finally put on properly and held his hair away from his face.

“Have you ever put on a face mask before?” Y/n handed him a face mask.

“Umm, no.”

“Let me put it on you.” She smiled as she took back the face mask from his hand.

Within seconds, her trained hands successfully put the face mask on his face. And not long after, her face was also wearing one.

“We’re matching!” Y/n grinned at him. “Let’s take a selfie,” she said as she pulled out her phone.

He wasn’t big on selfies, he didn’t even remember the last time he took one. But seeing the huge smile on his best friend’s face was enough for him to reluctantly agree.

He forced a smile at the camera. He realized it looked awkward as Y/n shoved their photo in front of his face to show him the result. It looked even more ridiculous with the bunny headband on top of his head. However, the girl looked like she didn’t mind as she kept babbling on about how this was their first selfie in years and she wanted to upload it so bad.

“-will ask me about you. And what’s going to happen to me when you date one of them?”

A silence followed her ramblings until he realized she just asked him a question.

He cleared his throat. “First of all, just because I’m dating, doesn’t mean you can’t still be my best friend. Second of all, isn’t the purpose of this… adventure is to find my soulmate?”

Y/n eyes widened in realization. “You’re right! I’m gonna post it then.” As she was about to hit the post button on her phone, she looked at him. “Wait. What should I caption it?”

20 minutes later, when the once cold mask was no longer cold and it started to dry a bit, Y/n carefully peeled the mask from both their faces.

“What do you feel?” Y/n asked expectantly.

Namjoon didn’t even know how to answer that. Truth to be told, these skin care products never really made an impactful difference on his skin, hence the reason he didn’t have a skin care routine. The most he ever did was just wash his face with a face wash and even that was a leftover he found in his sister’s old room a few weeks after she left for uni. A side note, don’t even ask him why he was in her room, he wouldn’t answer it truthfully. His parents would probably say that he missed her, but he knew it wasn’t true… right?

The lack of response from him was enough for Y/n to catch on what he was feeling.

“You don’t feel anything, huh?”

“Wetness on my face.” His answer sounded more like a question.

“You’re unbelievable. Well, since today is just the first day, I’ll let it go. But, the correct answer to that is refreshed, Joon,” Y/n explained in exasperation as she scratched her head.

“What does that have to do with finding my soulmate?”

“You might find out your soulmate faster if you’re not stressed,” Y/n said as a matter-of-factly.

He sighed. “You know what, I don’t even bother to argue with you.”

“Cause you know I’m right.”

That night when he was about to fall asleep, when he was only half-aware of his surroundings, the memory of today’s activity played in his mind. The messy kitchen as his best friend attempted to make him breakfast. Her proud smile as she served his food. The focused look on her face when he was putting on her headband and the face mask on him. And lastly, the tired smile she offered him as she said goodbye when the day ended after they binge watched on Netflix. For the first time in years, he fell asleep with a smile plastered on his face.

The next morning on Sunday, he woke up much earlier than usual. He even woke up feeling energized. He could even feel anticipation bubbling inside of him. The last time he felt like this was when he was around 9 and his parents gave him tickets to Disneyland as a birthday gift. Simply put, he felt like a kid again, waiting for great things that were about to happen today.

As he smiled at the memories of his childhood, he couldn’t help but realize that maybe Y/n was right all along. She always nagged on him because all he did was to mope around on his old couch and get drunk when things got too hard.

“Live in the moment, dude,” she had said multiple times. “You worry too much like an old man who fears the end of the world.”

What a great metaphor, Y/n.

Just like the day before, Y/n entered his apartment without notice. But this time, instead of being in the shower, he was already dressed and waiting for her. He could feel his heart beat get faster when he heard the door being opened.

Y/n widened her eyes in surprise before she smirked. “I like the energy. Let’s just go, then!”

For the second activity in The Journey to Find Namjoon’s Soulmate, Y/n took him to an…

“Animal shelter?” Namjoon asked in disbelief.

Y/n nodded. “I want to see cute animals.”

“We can just go to the zoo.”

“It’s expensive. And they don't really care about animals."

Ever since the start of their friendship, he could never win against her wittiness. So this wasn’t really a rare occurrence where she said an argument so wrong yet so right.

“But a zoo is intended for exactly that purpose. Rather than you playing with those sheltered animals but not adopting one of them in the end,” Namjoon explained.

“Oh, shush. Stop being a party-” Y/n’s eyes suddenly caught a puppy running towards her. “Oh my God, come here, baby!” she yelled as she scooped the puppy up in her arms.

For a few minutes, it was just Y/n cooing at the puppy and he was just eyeing her in amusement. He knew that she would go mushy and all excited around animals, so he couldn’t really blame her for seemingly forgetting about him. Plus, he didn’t want to miss out on seeing Y/n using baby voices to talk to the animals.

His amusement was interrupted when Y/n abruptly shoved the puppy towards him.

“Wha-? I don’t-”

“Just take it. We’re here for you, not me.”

Namjoon sighed in defeat as he accepted the puppy into his arms. Its tail wagging so fast, going for miles per second, to the point he could feel its body shaking from the impact. Its big eyes looking up at Namjoon in… adoration? Maybe going to the shelter might be one of his favorite activities from now on.

They only went home after an entire day spent at the shelter. Namjoon was tired, he almost couldn’t keep his eyes open, but Y/n was probably more tired than him cause she kept running around to chase every puppy and kitten she saw.

He tried to stop her, knowing she would get tired, but she said, “Each one of them deserve love, okay,” before running around yet again.

Now as they sat in the bus on their way home, he saw out of the corner of his eyes Y/n’s head bobbing down every once in a while, following the motion of the bus. He snorted while he tried to hold his laugh. What he had thought would happen, really happened.

Feeling bad because he knew that would feel uncomfortable, he lightly directed Y/n’s head to rest on his shoulder. Instinctively, Y/n snuggled further into his shoulder to make herself more comfortable and when she was finally satisfied, she sighed.

This awfully looked like he was going to have a guest tonight.

The third day was on a Monday. He knew he was weird, Y/n had told him repeatedly, but he really liked Mondays. For him, it was finally the day in which he could do something about his problems at work that he just left off on Friday.

“I swear, you’re literally the personification of weird,” Y/n had commented one day.

To be honest, he didn’t really care if he was really what she had said. Can’t someone like something without being judged?

Right after they both woke up and had breakfast, Y/n went back to her apartment to get ready for the day.

Before leaving, she instructed him to find light clothes as they were going to spend time outdoors for the day. Exactly like what she said, he chose to wear an old t-shirt he had owned since he was in college and khaki shorts he found at the pit of his wardrobe.

“I hope they have mint choco flavor!” Y/n jumped up and down in excitement as they got closer to the ice cream parlor.

“Ew, why do you even like to eat cold toothpaste?” Namjoon asked rhetorically.

Y/n gasped. “What is this mint choco slander? You, mister, have never tasted life until you eat mint choco ice cream.”

“No, thanks. I bet I’d taste death eating those.”

Flabbergasted, Y/n stopped in her tracks and glared at him. “You-”

He quickly cut her off, “Let’s not continue the argument before there’s a bloodbath.”

Y/n chuckled proudly. “Because you know it’d be your blood that’ll be spilled.”

“Um, no,” he interjected. “I think you mistake your blood with mine.”

“Really? You wanna fight?” Y/n took a fighting stance in front of him in which Namjoon just grabbed her elbow and pulled her to walk again.

"Stop that! The kids will think you're one of them," he mumbled.

They were at a busy park surrounding a lake. Kids were running all around the place. Some parents tried to chase them but some went as far as scolding them. A small portion of parents even just let their kids disappear into the crowd of people. He doubted those parents even care about their kids.

He never knew such a place like this existed. During the three days he spent on this journey, he had learned and knew more things than all of his life experiences combined. Maybe he’d have to thank Y/n after they reached the end of this journey.

“I start to think this journey is just your excuse to have a holiday.”

“No way. This is totally 100% for you. Speaking of that, do you already have an idea who your soulmate might be?”

Namjoon shook his head as he opened the door to the ice parlor and gestured to her to enter first. “Just get your damn ice cream.”

There was a long line of people waiting to order, but soon enough, it was their turn.

Even before the cashier could greet them, Y/n already blurted out a question. “Do you have mint choco flavour?”

“We’re unfortunately ran out of it. Maybe you want to try mocha instead?”

Y/n pouted in disappointment as she was trying to find the next best flavor in the menu.

Though mint choco ice cream was his mortal enemy, he couldn’t help but to feel a pang of sadness upon seeing his best friend’s reaction. There was nothing worse than having your first choice unavailable.

“You know what? I changed my mind, bubblegum is now my favorite,” Y/n commented as they walked out of the parlor. A cup of bubblegum flavored ice cream in Y/n’s hand and the vanilla one in Namjoon’s. “Goodbye, mint choco.”

“See? You’re finally agreeing with me.”

“Yeah, but for different reasons. I still think it tastes good, but bubblegum is better. It’s a good thing they ran out of mint choco.”

“Your taste in ice cream is weird.”

“Why would they make these flavors then if not for me to enjoy?” she argued as she put more ice cream into her mouth. She closed her eyes and hummed in content. “I haven’t had ice cream in weeks. I miss how cold it feels.”

“I think you’re exaggerating.” There was no way, in his opinion, not even in alternate universes where she could stand not eating ice cream for weeks. She had a sweet tooth and couldn’t stand not eating ice cream in weeks, at least that was what he knew since the start of their friendship.

“Nope. These past few weeks, my boss has been giving me double the amount of work. I have to work overtime and by the time I’m off work, all ice cream places have closed. So I’m gonna savour all of this as much as I can. God knows when I can get ice cream again.”

Shortly after she said that, a kid, approximately around 9 years old, bumped into Namjoon and accidentally made him drop his ice cream. The kid, unaware of what just happened, just mindlessly bowing and saying sorry before running again to chase his friends.

“Oh no!” Y/n squatted down near the sorry sight of his ice cream.

Before he even registered what was happening, she handed him her ice cream. “Hold it for me.”

Instinctively, he held her ice cream. “Y/n, there’s no need for that. We can find the cleaning service and ask them to clean it.”

He didn’t know whether she was purposely ignoring him or she was so focused to the point she didn’t hear him. All he knew was the fact that she kept on cleaning up as best as she could. And that there was nothing he could do to stop her.

A few minutes later, Y/n jumped up from her squatting position. “All done!” She tossed the now dirty tissue in a trash can nearby.

She thanked Namjoon and took her ice cream back from him. But instead of eating it herself, she scooped some with the spoon and directed it in front of his face.

He must have looked bewildered because Y/n smiled and spoke, “We must share since you lost yours.”

He could swear when she said that, he felt warmth all around his body, originating from his chest. She just said she missed ice cream, yet when he lost his, she didn’t hesitate to share it.

“No, but thanks.”

Y/n frowned and softly touched the tip of the spoon to his lips. Reluctantly, he let her spoon-feed him.

“You said you want to savour it?” he asked after he swallowed.

Her answer, however, was something he never expected coming out from her mouth.

“What’s sweeter than eating ice cream is sharing it with your best friend.”

He swore he almost broke into tears at her words.

He knew how much she loved sweet foods. She even frequently ran to him crying when her brother ate all of her chocolate when they were kids. She broke many friendships because they didn’t want to accept her overpriced candies as presents. Heck, even a moment ago they were arguing about ice cream flavors!

This was a new side of Y/n that he just saw. A side she never showed him before, her best friend slash her only friend. He felt like he was learning more about Y/n than he was about his future soulmate.

So that was how their third day ended. Namjoon and her sitting on a bench facing the lake as they take turns to take a bite of her ice cream.

On Tuesday, the fourth day, Y/n had the genius idea of going on a road trip. It was a huge problem, because one: he couldn’t drive, and two: he wasn’t about to let Y/n drive for hours on end.

“This doesn’t sound like a very good idea,” Namjoon said for the millionth time that morning as Y/n stuffed their luggages into the tiny trunk in her tiny car. “Plus, I don’t think your car can withstand long hours on the road.”

"Shush." She forcefully closed the trunk. "You can't drive, therefore you don't deserve to have an opinion."

The car in question was a 2010 car that originally was owned by Y/n’s dad and given to her when she got a driver’s license. Please note that Y/n had told him long ago that she actually didn’t drive that much and probably wouldn’t need a car since she enjoyed taking the bus to work. Nevertheless, she refused to sell the car when she was in need of money after moving out of her parents’ house. She had said, and Namjoon still remembered it clearly, that, “I want to keep this bad boy until he’s an antique, then I want to sell him to the highest bidder, so I can be rich."

‘Okay’, Namjon had thought, ‘but antique cars are usually just sitting in the garage, not being overworked like Y/n’s.’ However, he never said anything, so Y/n automatically had thought she won again against him.

Minutes later, they were already on the road, going nowhere in particular. Namjoon was still steadfast in his stance. This wasn’t going to end well.

But what if he could persuade her to turn the car around by another means? He wasn't going to pass up this opportunity, so he tried again.

"Won't you be tired? Sleepy?" asked him.

"I'm not weak, Namjoon. Contrary to what you see me as, I'm as strong as you are, if not stronger."

"I lift three times a week." His words sounded more like a question.

"I walk up the stairs to the fifth floor multiple times a day."

Okay, this wasn't where the conversation was supposed to flow, but he wasn't going to back down.

"It's not my fault your apartment is crappy," he clapped back. “They can’t even fix their damn lift.”

"They will get it fixed soon, don't worry."

"That's what they said months ago!"

"Then what do you want me to do?" she challenged him.

"Find a new apartment!"

"They're all expensive. Plus, I’ve lived there since college, I’m kinda attached to it."

"You're a hopeless cause," he mumbled quietly, she probably didn't hear him.

After a few seconds of silence, Namjoon tried again, this time using another different approach.

"What if something terrible happens?"

"No, it won't. Relax. Chill. You're worrying too much. Why don't you just take a nap?"

"You're too chill, Y/n. We go out to nowhere without booking-"

"It's okay, really."

“How?” he asked, exasperated of how calm she was when they were about to go somewhere empty handed and with no planning whatsoever.

“How? Umm, I was on a road trip once.”

He wasn’t convinced. “When? You never tell me anything about it.”

“I don’t need to tell you everything I do! It was when I was 12. My dad and uncle took me along with them to go around the country.”

“12 years old, Y/n! You were 12. Now you’re in your 20s.” Namjoon wasn’t amused at all at this point. “Turn the car around now!”

“What? No!” Y/n exclaimed. “This is an important part of the journey. Being at a place you’re familiar with won’t help you dig deeper into yourself. You’d just be too preoccupied with your problems.” Then Y/n finished her speech off with a quiet mumble, “You’ll never find anything new by being in your comfort zone.”

Namjoon hated once again at how right her words were. He really wanted to argue with her, but she was right. Being on his couch all day, doing the same things everyday, wouldn’t change anything in his life.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “Fine, okay, you win. Happy?”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Y/n grinned. “Very.”

That night they arrived at a small motel that probably only had like 10 rooms at most. It had a homey feeling, but the stench coming from the lobby, though. It was unbearable for him.

As they dragged their suitcases while they were trying to find their room amidst the numberless doors, Namjoon asked Y/n, “Why are we in this crappy motel again?”

To answer that, Y/n shrugged. “Don’t know. I just saw the signs and went straight in.”

“Didn’t you smell something at the receptionist?”

They finally arrived in front of their room. They didn’t actually know it was their room, but based on the instructions that the creepy receptionist just gave them, there was a high chance this was it.

Y/n answered as she opened the door. “Yeah. The receptionist actually whispered to me that they just finished eradicating rats. He said there was an infestation in the lobby.”

He couldn’t help but to grimace while following her into the room. She had been told about all of that and she still decided to rent a room. He would never understand her way of thinking even after years of friendship.

As if she could read his mind, she spoke, “Don’t worry. All the rats were successfully killed and all of them were in the lobby. We’re safe.”

“How do you know?”

“I asked him. I’m not stupid, Joon.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Geez, chill. I just asked you a question.”

And that was how their fourth day concluded.

For the first time since the start of the journey, Namjoon finally initiated an activity on the fifth day.

He managed to browse on his phone for things they could do, eat breakfast with whatever food they had, and even pack lunch for the both of them before Y/n even woke up.

When she woke up, he hesitantly asked her to go hiking. Throughout the journey this far, he only followed wherever she wanted to go, so he didn’t really expect the reaction that he got from her after proposing his idea.

She widened her eyes as she digested his words and her breakfast. “Hiking? Where?”

“Behind this motel, there’s a small hill. What do you think?”

Y/n nodded a little too enthusiastically. “Let’s go. Spending a day with nature doesn’t hurt.”

Oh, how wrong she was.

The idea was for them to hike together, maybe even side by side, as they enjoyed the view. But instead, Namjoon left her a solid 50 meters.

Perhaps it was because he was taller, therefore he had longer legs and strides, or because he was excited, so he walked faster, or even both. No one really knew for sure, not even him.

“Joon!” she called once again in the span of less than 5 minutes. “Don’t walk too fast!”

Namjoon sighed as he stopped in his tracks, waiting for her to catch up with him. She was lucky she was his only best friend or he would’ve strangled her by now because of her naggings.

Quite a surprise to himself, when she finally caught up with him, he squatted down and ordered her to ride on his back. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him, but he just went with it. Maybe his unconscious thought that she would quit complaining if she was on his back. There was only one way to find out.

“Why? I can walk on my own.” She wiped the sweat on her forehead with a tissue.

He scoffed. “You look like you’re about to pass out any second. Just shut up and let me carry you.”

He didn’t know what he had expected from giving someone a piggyback ride and that someone to be Y/n, but he was sure a strangling grip around his neck wasn’t part of the deal.

“Can you-” Gasp. “-not strangle me?”

Y/n immediately let go of him. The warmth of her embrace suddenly disappeared. “Oops. Sorry.”

Once they arrived at the top, Y/n jumped off his back. “Woah, this is so cool.” She pointed at the motel that now looked small. “That’s our motel!” she exclaimed.

They found a large flat rock that they both could sit on and ate lunch together.

As she munched on her food, she asked, “Have you figured out who your soulmate is?”

“Not yet. I start to think this doesn’t work.”

“Good things take time, my dude.”

Oh, how he really wished it was true.

“Hey,” Y/n’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Do you know that I always wanted to tick off ‘hiking’ from my wishlist?”

“The wishlist you had since you’re 10?”

She nodded. “After more than a decade, I finally finished everything on my wishlist.” She suddenly broke into a fit of giggles. “I’m gonna make a new one once we’re home.”

“What’s going to be in it?” he asked curiously.

Y/n took a moment to think before answering, “Maybe… to find my soulmate.” It came out more like a question rather than an answer.

She abruptly chuckled. “Wouldn’t it be crazy if in the end we figure out our soulmates in this journey?”

A lightning fast thought struck him but disappeared just as fast as it came. Throughout the rest of the day, he was trying to recall that thought to no avail.

The next day, on Thursday, they were going home. They couldn’t handle another hour, no scratch that, they couldn’t even handle another minute at the motel. Opposite to what Y/n had initially thought, the stench of rat carcass reached far beyond the lobby to their room.

A series of “see I told you so”s later, Namjoon finally broke her.

“Yes, Namjoon. Thanks for telling me that. I know you’re right and I’m wrong. Now please put on a song, I want to sing.”

Another thing Y/n was bad at, according to him, was singing. He knew she liked to sing, she’d told him about it, but he never understood how she managed to be so confident yet so bad at it. If he were told to rank between her ability to sing and choose a good motel, he’d probably have put singing as the first place based on how bad she was at it. Call him a bad friend, but he was just being honest.

However, he still played a song just to satisfy her. An easy song that no one can screw up, but he knew she would still screw up anyways. After all, enduring her cracked singing voice was the least he could do after being driven from and to a crappy motel.

And then she sang. And sang. And sang. One song turned to three turned to five then ten and fifteen. Before she went for the sixteenth song, Namjoon stopped her.

“Aren’t you thirsty from singing?” Nice catch! The question was just an attempt to make her stop a while so he could regain his hearing.

“Don’t even have to ask.”

As she gulped down water from her flask, Namjoon eyed her warily. He prayed, and he was an atheist, that she would forget about singing.

He didn’t know which God had answered his prayers, but when Y/n put down her flask, she already babbled about something else other than singing. Looked like the world, and God, were on his side today.

She was talking about the random bird that was flying straight to her car, almost hitting the car. Also about a dog that stuck out its head from the car beside them. And about how expensive the motel was for being smelly and dirty.

Lastly, “Do you think I cut out to be a singer?”

Yeah, maybe he was pushing his luck.

Day seven fell on a Friday. They spent the day walking hand in hand leisurely on the beach. Beside him, Y/n was talking about what color she should dye her hair next.

“I think I should go with green. What do you think?” Y/n nudged his side with her elbow and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Your boss won't let you dye your hair crazy colors,” he said. “Please don’t do anything that can get you fired.”

Y/n pouted at his answer. But soon her frown vanished as her eyes fell upon a bikini in a display of a store.

Namjoon exhaled. He knew exactly what was going to happen.

True enough, Y/n pulled on his hand that was still clasped in hers towards the store and only stopped after they were in front of the display.

“What a cute bikini!” she cooed before running inside the store, leaving a bewildered Namjoon outside.

Right when he entered the store, he heard a squeal that could only belong to one person.

He turned to the source of the sound and saw Y/n laughing with a store clerk. A male and handsome store clerk.

He wasn't the type of person who gets jealous easily or possessive, but he never saw Y/n with a man other than himself. So he couldn't really help it when he felt jealousy seeped through his gritted teeth. But he soon had forgotten about it when Y/n looked up at him and grinned.

Y/n approached him while holding a bikini set.

“This is their latest design. I’m gonna try it. Wait for me!” Then she disappeared to the fitting room before he could remind her that she didn’t wear bikinis.

Throughout the time he had known her, not even once she ever said anything about bikinis, let alone wearing one and he had known her since they were in diapers. What made her suddenly want to have a bikini?

Minutes later, after a series of clanking noises and a few curses, Y/n came out of the fitting room and he couldn’t believe what he saw. Surely the fitting room was a magic box or something, because there was no way his childhood best friend, his innocent Y/n, came out looking like a model out of a magazine. Well, maybe more like a model before they got heavily photoshopped since he still could see some tiny spots, cellulite, and scars on her skin. And maybe a plus size model because her hips would be considered wide compared to those models. But he didn’t mind them, they made her look more… natural, more human.

While he was busy admiring her, a cough suddenly woke him from his daze. He turned to see the store clerk from earlier, now standing beside him.

“You look very beautiful,” he commented, not minding the killing glare coming from Namjoon.

Y/n, without heeding the store clerk’s compliment, asked, “Joon, do you think this is okay?”

Namjoon was tempted to say, “Just okay? You look like a greek goddess who just blessed me with her presence.” But he was too paralyzed to say anything.

“I think you look great,” the store clerk spoke up again. For a split second right after he said that, he looked at Y/n’s thighs before looking at her eyes again.

It happened so fast, Namjoon thought he was just imagining it. But when Y/n’s facial expression turned sour and she quickly went back to the fitting room, he was wondering whether she saw that too.

His suspicion was confirmed right after they left the store.

“I can’t believe it!” she said while stomping beside him. “He looked at my thighs, Joon! Did you see it, too?”

He just hummed.

Y/n huffed. “I’m going to file a complaint to their manager.”

“You won’t do that,” he replied knowingly.

“I’m gonna make it viral, then. Let the whole world see how horrible he is.”

Namjoon really wanted to laugh at how ridiculous that sounded. “How? You don’t have footage of him doing it.”

“Damn, you’re right,” she mumbled. “Maybe I’m just not meant to have a bikini.”

A lot of thoughts ran through his mind. He wanted to let her know how pretty she looked in that bikini. How captivating the curves in her body were. But in the end, he only suppressed all of that. In his justification, he wanted a more appropriate timing. He didn’t want to say all that to her when she was mad or she’d think he said that to make her feel better. He wanted not just to comfort her, but to actually make her realize how beautiful she was.

On Saturday, his second favorite day after Monday, Y/n arrived a bit later at his apartment compared the days before. But when she saw him ready for the day, she said, “I’m giving you a chance to wake up late, but whatever.”

As per usual, Y/n didn’t tell him where they were going, and he was surprised when they arrived in front of a large building with a sign that read “library”.

Looking at Namjoon’s puzzled face, Y/n probably could read what was in his mind. “You still have no idea who your soulmate is, right? I just think that maybe it’s because we’ve focused so much on doing physical activities instead of, like, feeding the mind.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe we can do a little bit of reading. Because, you know, reading is like eating but for the mind. Or whatever that quote is supposed to go,” she elaborated.

“I read in my free time.”

“Have you read anything during this entire journey?” she raised an eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes. “That’s because of your brilliant idea of having a journey. Had you let me sit down on my couch, I would’ve read the entire biography of the founding fathers by now.”

“Gosh, you’re so boring. No wonder you haven’t found your soulmate. And for the record, you learned a lot of things from this journey. Things that might help you find your soulmate. You know what, let’s just go.” With that, Y/n pulled on his hand and stepped into the library.

Namjoon was in the middle of reading a philosophy book when Y/n suddenly spoke to him.

“I can’t focus, Joon,” she whined. “I have too many things on my mind.”

Those words were the most terrifying words he had ever heard, especially if they came out of Y/n’s mouth. Every time he heard those words, he felt like he wasn’t being attentive enough towards his friends to the point he didn’t know that something was disturbing their peace. And that feeling was heightened when Y/n was the one in trouble. He knew her for the longest time, shouldn’t he be more caring towards her?

He breath hitched, anticipating what Y/n had to say. “Why?”

She took a deep inhale before exhaling slowly. “I know this stupid because it hasn’t ended yet, but I already miss this journey.”

Obviously he didn’t want to admit it in front of her, she would get a crazy idea otherwise, but he, too, could feel a pang in his chest that felt awfully familiar. It was the same feeling he got when he moved out of his parents’ house and when he was reminiscing the time he spent with his late dog. Also when he graduated from high school and had to leave his high school friends to pursue higher education. He wasn’t a stranger to this feeling. In fact, he knew it too well.

Y/n was right, though. It was indeed stupid to feel this way because they still had one more day together.

So he responded with, “We’re still in this journey. And even after this journey ends, we can still go on adventures together,” as a weak attempt to console her and also himself.

“It’s not the adventures that I miss. It’s the time we spend together. We’ve never spent this much time together.”

Of course he knew that. He knew he was going to miss the time they spent together, but his own pride made him unable to act vulnerable in front of her. Especially in the time when she needed him the most.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each deep within their own thoughts. That was when a crazy idea suddenly came to him. He usually wasn’t the one coming with crazy ideas, it was kinda Y/n’s thing and she probably would have copyrighted it if it was possible. But he wasn’t just going to be quiet at a time in crises like this.

“We can arrange some small one-day adventures every month. How does that sound?”

Y/n smiled although it didn’t reach her eyes. “Sounds great. Just promise me you won’t rain check on me.”

It worked! He successfully made her smile again. As he cheered inside his mind, he assured her, “I won’t. I’ll write it on my calendar.”

Namjoon dreaded the last day of The Journey to Find Namjoon’s Soulmate more than when he was called for a job interview by a big company. He even had clammy hands and was sweating bullets. His hand trembled as he waited for Y/n to announce what they were going to do on this last day.

“Holiday has to be concluded with a lazy day. So I call for breakfast in bed,” Y/n explained as she once again wrecked his kitchen.

“I’m not in my bed, though.”

“Your bed is not locked for the rest of the day once you’re out of it,” Y/n said in a matter-of-factly.

“But please don’t ruin my kitchen.”

Y/n briefly stopped cooking as she looked around the kitchen. Then she shrugged. “Well, it’s too late. You should’ve said that earlier.”

He originally had thought that Y/n would make food for him, give it to him, clean the kitchen, then left. But he was surprised when Y/n came back to his bedroom while holding a plate of her own after delivering his.

“Move,” she commanded before shimmying beside him on the bed. She grabbed the remote on the nightstand and turned on the TV.

“Now, we relax. Because we’ll be stressed out of our minds tomorrow.” She leaned back and started eating her bacon.

So that was pretty much how their ninth day went. But that wasn’t all.

Long after they had finished their food, they still watched the TV. Messy kitchen and other duties were long forgotten.

As time passed by, Namjoon found himself cuddling Y/n while she rested her head on his buff chest. And not long after, they both fell asleep in that position with the TV still playing in the background.

But all of that couldn’t last long as tomorrow they had to go to work. So after waking up from their nap, they cleaned the kitchen and Y/n went home before it got too dark.

Instantly after Y/n closed the door behind her, Namjoon felt empty. It wasn’t just his apartment that felt empty, but also his mind and soul. He was already used to her constant nagging, her constant company, and her voice. He wanted to run to her and tell her to extend their journey, but obviously, that was impossible. They had responsibilities, especially since they just neglected them for a week.

On Monday, the day that used to be his favorite but now he loathed it, he came home to a voice message from the person he’d been waiting for.

“Hey. Sorry I didn’t talk to you yesterday whether you’ve found your soulmate or not. I was anxious about work so I forgot. Umm… As soon as you receive this message, please call or text me, okay? I wanna hear what you thought.”

He couldn’t help but also notice something in her voice. Fatigue? Or was it sadness? He swore he could hear it and wasn’t just imagining it.

Wanting to check up on her, he automatically called her. First ring. Second ring. Third ring. He waited and waited, but it only went to her voicemail.

Not giving up so early to talk to his best friend, he rang her again. And waited. And waited. And kept waiting. But just like the first time, she didn’t pick up her phone.

In the end, he settled with sending her a text.

He didn’t know why he was suddenly nervous as he typed the message.

It said, “I still don’t have an idea who that might be. Maybe the journey didn’t work. But, hey, are you sad? Or maybe sick?”

He only got the reply the next day at lunch. He kinda hoped to read long messages about how he shouldn’t be so pessimistic and that he surely would find his soulmate, just like how Y/n usually talked. But instead, she just replied with, “What a bummer.”

He only sighed in disappointment.

The next few days were grim and hard for him. His boss gave him so much work despite having to catch up on his other work. Every time he rode the bus from and to work, he remembered Y/n’s slouched position beside him as they came home from the animal shelter. He could almost feel her head on his shoulder again.

Every time he played a song, he got reminded of the time when he had to endure Y/n’s off-key singing. A memory played in his mind every time he passed an ice cream parlor. Heck, he even missed the feeling of anticipation that he felt every time he woke up in the morning.

What was worst of all though was the fact that they didn’t talk at all after her last text. Not even the occasional text messages or sending each other memes just like what they used to do before the journey started.

He knew it was because they both had a lot of catch up to do after neglecting work for a week, but he really wished that they could spare a bit of time to talk together.

Oh, how silly he was when he dismissed her for missing their time together back at the library. What made him feel even more silly was him being a coward and not admitting back then that he was, too, going to miss spending time together.

One particular night, he had trouble sleeping worse than any other night he had been missing Y/n. He kept turning around, hoping to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in, but to no avail. In the end, he gave up and settled to reminiscing their time together.

As he delved into his memories, every single activity they did, every word she said, and every place they went to, his half-awake mind came upon a realization.

He missed her enthusiasm that could lift his bad mood instantly. He missed her pushiness that made him do things he didn’t want to do, only to show him that she knew what he would like. He also missed her short legs and her whines when he walked too fast. He missed her love for animals, her love for mint choco ice cream, her laugh, smile, kindness, and voice.

He missed her beauty, her body, and her sense of style. He even missed her unruly hair. He missed receiving her love and attention. He missed loving her and having her in his arms. He missed loving her. She was the soulmate he had been looking for. She was his soulmate. His. Soulmate.

At the crack of dawn, a few hours after Namjoon could finally fall asleep, he woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. He had an important thing to tell Y/n. And he had to do it now before she went to work and he lost another chance to meet her.

He checked the clock, it read 5 a.m. He quickly got up from his bed, took a shower, and grabbed a protein bar before leaving.

In the bus on his way to her apartment, he kept tapping his foot impatiently as he chewed on his protein bar. At times like this, he really wished he could drive. But for now he had to settle with the bus.

He jumped out of the bus as soon as it stopped at the bus stop closest to her apartment.

He checked the time again, 5:43 a.m. He still had a few minutes before she woke up.

He arrived in front of her apartment after five minutes of walking. He knocked on the door rapidly to the point he was sure he accidentally woke up the neighbors. However, it was the last thing on his mind.

A minute later, a sleepy Y/n with a bed head opened the door.

“Namjoon, wha-”

He instantly pushed her in and closed the door behind them both.

“Hear me out,” he demanded.

Y/n nodded while yawning.

“Let me help you cross out one activity from your wishlist.”

“Why are we talking about that at this time?”

“Because it’s important."

“I don’t see it."

He started to lose his patience. “It is! There’s one activity that’s really important right? Like, more important than the others.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Which one? I haven’t written a lot in the list, actually.”

“What are they?"

“To eat a banana-”

For a second, Namjoon was speechless. “What? Banana? Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just miss eating bananas.”

“Okay… What’s next?”

She took a moment to think, then answered, “Ah! I want to buy a new phone. Haven’t changed mine in years.”

He sighed. “Next?”

“Be a babysitter for a day.”

That wasn’t an answer he was looking for. “It’s a job for teenagers.”

“That’s why I only want to do it for a day.”

“Then?”

“Learn skateboarding. A skatepark just opened around here.”

“Anything else?”

She pouted. “You don’t want to help me cross any of those?”

“Not that. But, you said a few days ago on our journey that there was something you wanted to put on your wishlist.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Really? I don’t remember. What was it?”

He really wanted to strangle someone at this point. Why was she so dense? “You really don’t remember?”

“I don’t think I do. Sorry. What was it, though?”

“You wanted to find your soulmate.”

It took her a second to digest his words, but when she finally did, her eyes widened. “Oh, right. Does that mean you want to help me find my soulmate? Go on another journey? You know, you don’t have to use that as an excuse to-”

“Shut up, Y/n. Stop talking so much.”

Y/n frowned. “Sorry.”

He huffed. “I never knew doing this was going to be this hard.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I don’t want to go on another journey to find anyone’s soulmate. And especially not after I realized last night that we have found our soulmates.”

Before he could say anything else, she cut him off. “Really? Who is yours? What about mine? Do I know-”

“Yes! We know them.” He finally decided to just cut the chase and came out clean. “You’re my soulmate, Y/n. And I’m yours. I was so busy chasing love during our journey to the point I never thought about the possibility of you being my soulmate.” With a softer tone, he concluded, “The fortune teller was right. I knew who my soulmate is and where to find them, but I was too stupid to realize that.”

Y/n was stunned for a while before slowly blinking. Once. Twice. “Wow. That’s crazy.” Then she grinned. “You finally admit that you’re stupid!”

“Y/n, that’s not the point!” he groaned.

“Yes, yes, I know.” She laughed. It sounded like bells in his ears. “I’m just messing with you. So, what should we do now?”

“Y/n.” He turned serious if he wasn’t being serious before. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

For a few seconds, Y/n stared at his eyes expectantly, as if she was waiting for something.

“Y/n?”

“What?”

“What do you say?”

“Of course yes, you dummy. I thought it was obvious.”

“Seriously now?” He rolled his eyes.

“Wait. Is this the part where we should kiss?” she asked in wonder.

He was really holding himself hard not to roll his eyes yet again. “Duh, Y/n.”

“But I haven’t brushed my teeth!” Then she disappeared into her bathroom, leaving a bewildered Namjoon in the living room.

As he stared at her bathroom door, he whispered to himself, “What did I just sign up for?”

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