#and yeah now i AM leaning more toward just getting a console if i want to play more games

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Drawn Together 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, obsession, intimidation, and other dark elements.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You wring your hands as you watch Steve drift along the other wall. The white tee shirt makes the ink on his arms seem starker as he has a thumb hook in his jean pocket, the other reaching to take an oval frame from the console table. 

You squeeze your fingers tight, until they might crack, then release the tension along with your breath. He sets the picture back down and stands straight, looking around emphatically.

“Nice place,” he remarks as he faces you, “lots of space for you… and your… boyfriend?”

You watch him dully, “it’s nice.”

He is unfazed by your blunt deflection, “these old century townhouses, there’s not many of those left. I remember my mother lived in one. A few streets away.” He nears you and you brace yourself. He angles his arm towards you and shows you a banner that reads, ‘Brooklyn strong’.

“Oh, that’s very nice,” you lean back on your heel and pivot. “We should probably get started, we’re already behind.”

“You’re from Brooklyn too?” He asks as he goes to the bench.

“Grandparents lived here. They left me the place.” You take out a folder, the typical package you have ready for beginners, “we’ll start by tracing your hands.”

“Alright,” he stands close as you open the folder on the back of the piano. You turn and pluck a pencil from the jar on the shelf.

“It’s just… an exercise,” you explain as you hand him the pencil, “trace left then right and label them left and right.”

“Oh, wow,” he accepts the pencil, “this feels like grade school.”

“Hmm, well, yeah, my students are typically younger… my older students have a little more experience.”

“No, no, I’m excited,” he says as he spreads out his hand on the paper. His hand is huge. 

You spin again and slip out another looseleaf and hand it over, “for your other hand.”

You set it down on the polished wood and he thanks you quietly as he focuses on following the outline of his long fingers. Looking at his hand makes you feel tiny. Your eyes scan the small stars on each knuckle, red, white, and blue. The ring finger is untouched.

He finishes the exercise and you go over the five-finger system with him. It feels so ridiculous. He’s not a child but you find it simple and easy. When you have that all done, you fold up the file and put it aside.

“Sit,” you gesture to the upholstery.

He obeys, looking down at the keys as he rests his hands on his jeans. You think about grabbing a stool as you consider the limited expanse left beside him. You can fit. You lower yourself and hit a key.

“We’ll go over the musical alphabet now, low to high.”

You sense his gaze, intent on you as you go through the usual introduction. You pause and have him repeat what you just did on the keys. He does it slowly as his arm presses to yours.

“Now from middle C,” you instruct and demonstrate. “You want your hands at middle C.” You raise your hands, “left: F-G-A-B-C, right: C-D-E-F-G. Thumbs together.”

“Right,” he does exactly as you say. He has good form as he keeps his hands on the keys but not heavy.

“Good,” you get up and take the metal TV tray from the small rack tucked beside the shelf. You unfold one and bring it around to his elbow. Your grandfather always had one open beside his leather chair. The paint shows the wear. “Now, we will go through a warm up and have you write it out.”

“Okay,” he watches you. His blue eyes are so brilliant and intense. You realise, he’s been looking at you for longer than you knew. You take the folder and open it up again. “I appreciate the patience.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry,” you spread out a blank sheet, “you’re much less fidgety than a six-year old.”

“I hope so,” he chuckles.

“So, our goal by the end is for you to play one song. Does that sound good?”

“A whole song?” He echoes, “uh, yeah, I can do that.”

“Nothing too complicated,” you turn the folder to him and put the pencil across it, “so as we learn, we’ll write down what we play and this will help you learn to read music.”

“Right, let’s do the spider song as our warm-up,” you stand beside the piano. You can’t bear to sit next to him, not as you feel the sweat still speckling on your neck and beading under your hairline. 

“Spider song?” He grins, “that’d be a good tat, huh? A spider?”

“Um, I guess, I…”

“You’re not spider girl, though,” he says, “flowers.” He glances over at the window sill then back to you. His eyes descend slowly and you struggle not to wilt. You feel like he’s looking right through you, “poppies.”

You nod and shift your feet closer together, “I appreciate the simplicity.”

“Ha, I can never keep a plant alive,” he snorts, “you must just have that gentle touch that helps them thrive.”

“Well, um, I think we should get started,” you cross your arms and stride behind him, going to the other side of the piano. “Middle C.”

🎹

The lesson is as successful as any other. You stand at the corner of the piano as Steve keys out Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. He hits the last note with the same pride shown by the bouncing seven-year olds that perch in that very spot daily. 

“Great. You got your first song,” you say, “there’s a print-out in the folder,” you point beyond him, “it shows the keys, I know it’s not the same but it’s a good way to practice position. You can use that if you want to practice between lessons.”

“Between lessons,” he pulls his hands into his lap, “does that mean I passed? I get to come back?”

“That’s up to you. If you really want to learn, you’re going to need to keep at it. Older students tend to take a little longer. Um, sorry, not to… I hope that isn’t insulting.”

“Nope,” he claps his legs and turns, standing from the bench. He pushes his head side to side and cracks his neck, “I’ve always needed a little extra love, you know? I can be a bit bullheaded. Sam says I got a thick skull.”

You know he’s trying to be friendly. There’s just something off. You still can’t believe he’s really there or that you let him in. To that point, you’ve been going through a routine, letting the steps guide you through. Now, you’re at a loss. There is no parent coming to usher him out of your home.

“I got the fee,” he reaches in his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, “I guess I should’ve paid at the start.”

“No, uh, that’s fine,” you eke out.

“So uh, same time next week? Do you think maybe I could come back sooner?”

“Um, I’d have to look at my schedule. I’ll call–”

He holds out several bills and you accept them quietly. You always find the payment is awkward, even if it’s the whole point. You are offering a service, you deserve everything you earn. 

“Great, I’ll keep my phone close.”

The silence rises to strangle you. You peer around, grasping the bills tightly. What do you say to make him go? It’ll be easier to tell him you’re at capacity over the phone but you can’t then. Not to his face.

“You know, I still didn’t get a good look at your piece. Do you mind?”

“What?” You look at him.

“Your ink,” he nods at your feet, “do you mind if–”

He doesn't finish his question as he bends to look at your legs. You sway uncertainly and turn, pointing your toe to present your ankle to him. You don’t know what else to do. He examines it and you wince as he reaches to touch the skin beside it.

“Sam’s a talented guy,” he drags his fingertips away and stands, “helps when you have a great canvas. It suits you, sweetheart.”

Your brows rise as you gape at him. You quickly snap your mouth shut and fold your hands together. Your heart is pulsing behind your ears. You need him gone. This is your space and he’s intruded for long enough. The lesson is over.

“Don’t forget your folder,” you flit away from him and fold up the file, “here.” You face him again and push it against his chest, “I have to clean up for my next lesson.”

“Clean– this place is immaculate,” he looks around as he clutches the folder by the edges, “I don’t think–”

“Please, I have a lesson to prepare. Don’t forget to practice.”

You take a step back as he gazes at you. Unmoving. You might be telling him to go but it’s entirely his decision. Your nerves ping at the thought that you could not make him go. That if he stays long enough, he’ll realise your lie. Your excuse. He is your only lesson that day.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he relents at last as he tucks the folder under his arm, “see ya next week.”

You’re paralysed as you watch him cross the room. He disappears down the stairs and you listen to the creak of each step. At the bottom, you hear him shuffling around and when you find the courage to go look down, the door closes behind him.

You hurry down the stairs and quickly twist the lock. You let out your breath and lean into the wind as you let out a shuddery breath. His scent lingers. You’ll have to open some windows and light some incense. Hopefully, you can forget all about him.

#drawn together #tattoo au #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #series #au #mcu #marvel #captain america #falcon #sam wilson

[w1ldthoughts]

Roads Less Traveled

A/n: I am working on some anon requests but I figured we could use a little fluffy pick me up after the loss yesterday.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? It’s a 13 hour drive.”

You laugh, watching him put your bags in the trunk. “Yes I’m aware. You’ve only mentioned it 100 times.”

He takes his hat off, running his hands through his hair and firmly placing the Nike cap back on his head. “I just want to make sure you know what we’re about to get into.”

“I’ve made it through watching your finger explode on national television and now I get to meet your family during bye week. This is the longest time we’ve ever spent together consecutively so I’m excited and totally ready for this.”

Your boyfriend opens the car door for you with a knowing look, “you just want my mom to pull out the photo albums don’t you?”

“The only baby Justin pictures I’ve seen are from the Chargers TikTok babe, it’s not nearly enough. You were so adorable.”

“Were? As in past tense? Ouch.” He pressed a hand against his chest, biting back a smile.

“I mean you can still be adorable if you wanna be. Personally I was leaning more towards extremely handsome, maybe even…sexy?”

His face is turning more red by the minute and you can’t help yourself from digging a deeper hole, pinching his cheek as he jokingly whines for you to stop. “My handsome, gorgeous, adorable man. Come here.” You lean over the console and he closes the distance between you, immediately smiling into the kiss. He outwardly hated compliments but sometimes you swore you could hear his heart sing when you praised him in any way, especially his looks. It not-so-secretly made him feel giddy inside.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He whispers, pulling away from the kiss and starting the car. “Okay let’s go over who you’re going to meet. This is the big test.”

One of his hands finds itself resting on your thigh, leaving you to peek at the splint on his middle finger on the hand that was still on the steering wheel. Sometimes you wondered how much it must hurt after every game, the constant physical contact with so many weeks in the season to go and your boyfriend’s determination was only growing by the minute. He had no plans of slowing down.

Bringing yourself back into the present moment, you wracked your brain trying to remember all the names.“There’s obviously your family, your mom and dad. Patrick and Mitch. Then your friends Tate, Charlie and Jack, who will be at Charlie’s football game.”

“That was perfect, you’re definitely ready for them. I do apologize in advance though if my parents are overwhelming. Haven’t exactly brought anyone home in a while, well since high school really. And now they’re convinced I made you up and I’m on my way to dying alone.” His smile reaches his ears, exposing a dimple.

The fact that he was bringing you was a big deal already but to know that he’d only really done this a couple times made you feel special. Even if he didn’t really say it, he was falling for you just as much as you were falling for him.

Justin pulls you out of your thoughts when he asks “are you hungry at all? Because I’m thinking about stopping somewhere. I’m starving.”

“Oh yeah, lunch sounds good, I think I saw a Wingstop sign towards this next exit but I can look it up.”

You opted to sit in the car and eat, talking about what you wanted to do and see in Eugene.

“I want the works. Walk me down memory lane and definitely take me to Nike. Feels illegal not to go to a Nike store where it all started. I’m sure you’re looking to add to your endless collection anyway.”

He gives you a pointed look. “It was an endless collection until I met and started dating a thief. Do you know how many of my sweatshirts I found in your closet this morning helping you pack? I was looking for the purple one for weeks.”

That one makes you cackle as you force him to switch you spots so he can get a driving break. “Well I’m sorry! It’s not my fault your clothes are so big and comfortable. And anytime you’re gone I just throw one on and it’s like you’re always with me.”

“Nice save…Catwoman.”

You scoff. “I prefer Robin Hood actually, you know take from the rich and give to the poor. You’re rich so I take from you and give it to myself, the poor.”

“That would work better if I didn’t get most of that stuff for free but that is a pretty solid comparison.” He chuckles softly, nodding his head along to the song. “I didn’t know you were an 80s rock fan.”

“I didn’t either but you played this a few weeks ago while we were making dinner and I’ve been listening to it ever since. You know…I won’t tell anyone if you sing.”

Justin immediately starts shaking his head, “no shot. You’re not doing this to me.” He groans as you turn up the music, singing along to lyrics as he looks on, seemingly unamused.

To your surprise he matches your volume at the chorus, both of you screaming out the words to Pour a Little Sugar on Me by Def Leppard.

“What happens on the road trip stays on the road trip,” he makes you pinky swear.

A few hours later he motions for you to take the next exit, claiming he wants to show you something. It was the perfect time to watch the sunset with a view of Mt. Shasta in the distance. His non-injured hand held yours, walking out to see it while also stretching your legs.

“This is the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen.”

He turned to you with a warm smile, taking it all in. “Yeah...me too.”

You smacked him on the arm without turning to meet his gaze, already feeling his eyes burning holes in the side of your head. “Justin focus. You’re not even looking at the scenery right now.”

“Sorry I just got really distracted by the view right in front of me, it’s kind of become my favorite.” He wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head. You were still getting used to the “beard” he’d been sporting.

Turning around in his arms, you finally look up at him, the sight still taking your breath away. “You’re my favorite view too. Wouldn’t mind waking up to you for a while. The rest of my life even.” The last part comes out as a whisper you hope he didn’t catch.

But he did.

“Really? You—you see us doing this, like getting married and spending our lives together?” His lips crunch into a half smile and you want to kiss him senseless.

“Yeah, I do. Which is funny because I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with.”

“Neither have I.” He holds your face in his hands, bringing your lips together softly, the kiss left his entire body buzzing. “Until now.”

#justin herbert #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert fluff #nfl imagine #Justin Herbert fanfic

[godsandmonsters505]

The Other Woman | Rick Grimes

(fem!reader)

Summary: Rick consoles in you during troubles with his and Lori's relationship.

Warnings: [NSFW] smut, cheating, swearing, unprotected sex

It wasn't often that rainy spells hit the prison like this, especially since only days earlier you had been out working the farm land in the scorching heat. It took everyone by surprise, and people didn't know what to do with themselves, cooped up inside the walls of the prison all over again.

Tensions had been somewhat high recently, what with Rick and Lori's baby on the way and Glenn and Maggie fighting with each other, so the rainfall didn't particularly come at a convenient time. It wasn't exactly a happy little group bonding activity.

"Okay, pay attention to this part," you say, sat on the concrete floor of the prison with Carl, Rick's young boy. You hold up a semi-constructed origami swan.

"I am!" Carl laughs, working on a messy looking origami swan, but it looks like a swan nevertheless.

"Don't underestimate the skill that origami takes, kid," you chuckle, patting his head. "You might be handy with a gun but this is a whole new world."

He giggles and shuffles impatiently. "Just show me!"

"Fine," you grin. "So you see this part here?"

Carl nods as you point to one of the corners of the paper object.

"You have to fold it like this, in a way that it-"

You're interrupted when you hear your name called.

You turn around and see Rick walking towards you.

"Yeah?" You reply, twisting round to face him as you speak to him.

"I need some help." He states plainly. "Come with me."

"Can it wait, Dad?" Carl asks disappointedly. "My swan is nearly finished. I'm making it for Mom."

You could swear you see Rick wince at the mention of Carl's mother.

"There's time to finish it later, Carl." He drawls. "I need Y/N to come with me for now, though."

"Okay," he sighs. "Promise you'll help me finish later?"

"I promise," you smile, standing up and completing your swan as you do so. You lean over and hand it to him. "Have mine for now. Keep it safe." You wink and walk away, feeling a little guilty for having to leave him.

"What is it that can't wait?" You say to Rick, a little annoyed.

"Electrical problems on the other side of the building."

You nod. "And you needed me? Why not Glenn? He's been sat picking at the walls with boredom all day."

"I'm not in the mood to have my ears talked off." He states bluntly. "You get that more than anyone."

You smile softly to yourself. It's nice to know that Rick has chosen you because he wanted to, not because of convenience or practicality.

Yours and Rick's relationship was a strange one. You undoubtedly had feelings for him, but it felt strange knowing he was a married man. It would be easier for you to manage your feelings if he didn't flirt at times, or create unbearable tension, but he did (whether it was intentional or not). You just had to think of Lori and the baby. Maybe Rick just flirts for fun, he clearly has a life away from you to take care of.

But romantic feelings aside, you were good friends. Neither of you were good at communicating emotions, though, which is why Rick basically admitting he wants you to come fix the electrics with him is a good feeling, whether romantic or platonic. You trusted each other, you got each other and you didn't need words to communicate when facing walkers, problems in the prison or other issues. You like to think that it transfers into your personal relationship as well, but you can't be too sure.

You walk in comfortable silence for a few minutes, your hand instinctively placed on the knife in the holster on your belt in case of danger.

"You're good with him, you know." Rick says, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" You ask.

"Carl." He clarifies. "You're good with him."

"He's a good kid," you smile. "Guess he has a good dad."

He frowns and shakes his head. "He deserves better parents."

You lose the smile on your face in response to his statement. "You know that's not true."

"Lori and I are a mess." He sighs, frustrated. "I'm glad the poor kid has you."

You grab his arm to stop him, and turn him to face you.

"Don't say shit like that." You snap. "I've seen how much you love him. The both of you. Don't let whatever is going on with you and Lori make you think you're anything other than the best father any kid could have."

He runs his hand over his jawline, tense and clearly stressed.

"I can barely be a father to Carl, what happens when I have another kid here?" His eyes water. "Me and Lori are on the brink of divorce, which..." He laughs humourlessly. "How does a divorce even work in the middle of a fucking apocalypse?"

You sigh and look at him intently as he talks to you. This is the most vulnerable you've ever seen him.

"I don't want to leave her, I mean I love her and I want our kid to have parents that are together." You nod understandingly while he explains. "Some stability in this world would be nice. But then every time I look at her I think-"

His voice breaks as he talks and you take his hand and grip it in support.

"I think of Shane. I think of them together I think of what-" he takes a deep breath and straightens his posture. "Of what I did to him. Of what he made me do to him."

He stops talking and looks at you in your eyes. You're not sure what to say and simply gaze at him empathetically, wanting him to know that you care and are here to listen to him.

Suddenly he breaks the eye contact, pulling his hand from yours and briskly walking ahead. You run slightly to catch up with him as he walks and it's clear that he wants to leave the previous conversation behind, so you continue in silence yet again.

After a moment you decide to speak up.

"Before all this," you begin, "I was a-" you pause and laugh a little. "I was a therapist."

Rick turns his head to you and you feel satisfied when you see a miniscule smile on his face, no matter how small.

"Really?" He asks, thinking you're messing with him.

"Really." You assure and he scoffs, entertained.

"Years of training, and probably hundreds of patients...I thought I could be prepared for any situation." You continue. "Turns out a zombie apocalypse takes a toll on a person. I don't know how the fuck to react to any expressed emotion anymore."

You continue walking, and can see Rick's gaze on you out of the corner of your eye as you talk to him.

"I have all the...all the knowledge of what shit means," you say, tapping your temple with your index finger, "but in principle, I'm so lost. I think I'd make the worst therapist possible now."

Rick chuckles and it's a noise that lights up an inexplicably pleasant feeling in the depths of your chest.

"If you met me two years ago," you laugh, "I would've given you some fucking great advice."

"I'd rather just know you're really listening," he admits, "I don't want that generic therapist bullshit." He shoots you a teasing glance and you roll your eyes. "No offense."

"None taken." You say, and think deeply for a moment. "I guess we've all lost certain parts of ourselves, but maybe it makes us better people in the end."

Rick doesn't reply at first, as you arrive at the room you intended to reach.

"That's an optimistic way of looking at it." He says it in a way that leads you to believe he is not fully convinced.

"Maybe optimism is all we have anymore," you exhale. "And that's coming from a die hard pessimist."

Rick opens a cupboard in the corner and pulls out a tool kit while you open the circuit board.

"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing here, Rick." You say.

"Just do what I tell you." He smirks.

"Yes, sir." You laugh playfully.

You help Rick as he guides you through the actions required to fix the electrical problems. When you're both nearly done, he lets you finish the job, and when you do so, some lights on the machine flick on.

"There we go," Rick says.

"Maybe I have a new career ahead of me," you grin, swivelling around to face Rick behind of you, but when you face him, he's not smiling back. "Are you okay?"

His gaze burns through you as you stand there waiting for a reply. There is a look in his eyes that you can't quite place, but then he turns his back to you, breaking the moment.

"Rick?" You're worried when he doesn't reply to your question. You walk up behind him and place your hand on his shoulder. "What's wro-"

You're cut off when he turns around and takes you by surprise, pressing his lips to yours. Before you have time to react, he presses you up against the nearest wall, your top hitching up a little. He removes his lips from yours to observe your reaction and you stare at him longingly for a split second before continuing the kiss yourself, pulling his face into yours passionately.

Months of tension has built up into this heated moment, and at the flick of a switch, it is being released. His hands roam your body before finding a firm grip on your hips, pulling you close to him.

"I've wanted this since I first laid eyes on you in Atlanta," Rick whispers into the kiss and your breath hitches at the admission.

"Rick," you say, almost panting as he grins himself up against you.

It all moves so fast as he goes to slide his hands up your shirt, squeezing your breasts through your bra. You place your own hands on his toned chest, trying to keep yourself steady as his tongue explores your mouth.

He pulls away from the kiss and you miss the contact, but then realise he is reaching for the hem of your top. He pulls it upwards and begins to expose your torso, but you stop him.

"Here?" You gasp, wanting to continue with this, but assuming you would remain as fully clothed as possible. What if someone came looking for you? What if walkers managed to get in? "Leave it on."

He looks at you with irresistible eyes. "I want to see your body," he pleads and you nod immediately, allowing him to remove your top. Caution flies to the wind as soon as he gives you that look. It makes you feel like the only girl in the world. It melts you to the core.

You unbutton his shirt until it's loosely hanging on so that you can get access to his chest, running your hands up and down, exploring his skin. As you do so, he unhooks your bra and throws it to the floor, making you feel incredibly vulnerable in front of him.

"God, you're fucking beautiful," he mutters and you feel yourself blushing under his intense stare. You'd thought about this situation many times before, and every time you felt guilty, or conflicted, but in reality when it was happening, there was no reasoning or logic. No thoughts passed through your head other than how badly you wanted the man in front of you.

He unbuttons your pants and slides his hands down into your panties. He has you unbelievably wet, and he used this wetness to spread onto your swollen clit, increasing the pace of your panting with every circle of the bundle of nerves. He has you in the palm of his hand, literally and figuratively, as he uses one hand on your hip to press you against the wall and keep you in place, and the other to pay attention to your core. He slowly slides his index and middle fingers inside you as you writhe and moan quietly, using his thumb to continue to stimulate your clit while he holds his fingers inside you. His motions speed up and he begins to move his fingers in and out of you, pushing deeper every time and curling as they do so. He continues to whisper praises and compliments to you as you come nearer and nearer to you release.

As your moans grow louder, he takes your mouth in a rough kiss, biting gently on your lip. His fingers repeatedly hit the exact right spot inside you, and combined with the repeated stimulation of you clit it becomes too much. The knot that had built up in your stop finally unclenches as you call out his name, a wave of pleasure blinding you.

"Rick!" you call out and he groans deeply in response.

"That's it," he whispers as you come down from your orgasm, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. You kiss him again as you regain a little of your strength, but soon enough you're ready for more, and teasingly trail your finger down his chest, abdomen and to the bulge in his pants. You palm the bulge momentarily, but you can't resist any longer and unzip his fly, wanting to release him from his jeans.

You pull his length out of his boxers and gasp at the sight of how big he is. Even in your dreams it wasn't like this. You stroke his hard length as he grabs your jeans, unbuttons them and pulls them down, just below your bottom.

Wasting no time, he lines himself up at your entrance, teasing you as he pushes in only the tip. You bury your head in his neck in anticipation, pressing little kisses into his skin, clinging onto his shoulders.

"Please," you whimper and without question he pushes himself in fully. You both let out a simultaneous moan as you revel in the feeling of each other's bodies being connected in such a way.

"Fuck," he pants holding himself inside you and trying to maintain his balance. He grabs your jaw and takes your head from out of the crook of his neck. He looks you in the eyes, holding your face in place, as he takes his cock nearly all the way out of you and slams it back into you in one smooth stroke.

You cry out in ecstacy and your eyes roll to the back of your head. After that initial movement, he starts to build up the pace, moving in and out of you steadily. He lifts your legs up so that he is carrying your weight and fucks you passionately into the wall. Your lips meet every so often in a messy kiss as your bodies slam together, filling the room with obscene noises.

His lips move from your lips to your jawline to your neck as one of his hands find your breasts. With his hand he squeezes your breast while circling your nipple with his thumb, observing closely how your body reacts to everything he does to you, and what it is that you like.

He begins to kiss the skin of your neck, sucking and biting. You both know that he's going to leave marks but neither of you are in a place to stop. Plus, you'd be lying if you said the though of him marking you as his didn't turn you on.

The continuous movements in and out of you bring on that familiar feeling yet again, but in a way that you've never felt before. As it grows nearer you're thankful Rick has hold of you because your whole body feels like jelly. One more push and you're unravelling in his grasp, calling out his name. You don't know how loud you're being, but you don't care. You close your eyes as pleasure fills your body. He slows down through your orgasm, but as soon as he sees you coming around again, he speeds up his strokes again.

You want to speak, to thank him, to say anything, but your mind has turned to mush. All you know of in this moment is the pleasure this beautiful man before you is responsible for. You cling onto his toned biceps, veins prominent on his forearms.

"Harder," you barely manage to utter and he let's out a breathless chuckle, following your command.

Both his hands are now gripping onto your ass, and the warmth of the contact strongly contrasts the coldness of the concrete wall against your upper back.

He has so effortlessly brought you near to orgasm again, and you know he won't be able to hold on this time, his composure slipping.

His thrusts become rougher, faster, more primal. He's so close and his body is taking over his mind. Not that you mind. The strength of his body is like nothing you've ever felt before.

A few final thrusts and you're throwing your head back, moaning obscenely.

"Rick!" You yell. "Fuck!"

Your knees buckle, ecstacy fills your veins, your stomach clenches and one push against your g-spot sends your whole world crumbling around you. White blots fill your vision and your limbs feel like electricity is being shot through them, sending pins and needles to your finger tips.

Once again, Rick fucks you through your orgasm, putting your pleasure first as you clench around him. When you've come around a little, you see him hesitate as he's about to release.

"Cum inside me," you say, almost begging, holding him inside you and gazing into his eyes.

He nearly crumbles at your words and the way you look at him. The next thing you know, you feel his warmth spill inside you with a profane grunt and he holds himself inside you as his head tips back and eyes screw closed.

You stroke his hair out of his face and watch his beauty in awe as he cums inside together. It's a surreal moment that you want to remember forever.

After a minute of you appreciating each other, he pulls out of you and places you down gently, helping you stand up on your unstable legs. He tucks himself back into his pants before helping you get yourself dressed again, being extra careful with his touches, compared to how he just fucked you.

You sink down onto the floor, needing to sit and rest, and Rick joins you.

"We've got ourselves into a mess, haven't we?" You chuckle.

"A little." He nods. He presses two fingers against your cheek and uses them to turn you to look at him. He places a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back and smiling sweetly. "I don't regret it one bit, though."

You smile in return. "Is it true what you said? About wanting me since we first met?"

He nods and mindlessly plays with your hair, twiddling it in his fingers. "I've never met anyone like you before."

"And I've never met anyone like you."

Rick sighs. "The group are going to wonder where we are."

"Right, yeah." You agree. "We'd better get back. I've got an origami swan to make."

"Actually," Rick says, holding his finger up, "I think Carl will be making it. You're just advising him."

You laugh at his playful tone. "My apologies. Credit to Carl where it's due."

The two of you stand up, and as you do so, Rick runs his fingers over your neck.

"Fuck," he mutters.

"What?" You ask, suddenly worried, thinking maybe reality had dawned on him.

He traces over the bruises forming over your neck with his fingers, tickling slightly. "I'm going to have some explaining to do."

A smile forms on his face and relief washes over you. This might undoubtedly cause further tensions in the group, but things with you and Rick might just end up as you'd hoped after all.

#rick grimes #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes smut #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfiction #twd fic #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x reader #andrew lincoln

[erodasfishtacos]

the new one shot is incredible! loved to see them in a different situation that we aren’t used to. I’d like to know how did their parents react when they told them they were expecting knowing they were really young and his professional career just started!

Always Be My Baby

prompt: how harry’s family reacts to the pregnancy announcement

warnings: angst, smut, minors dni 18+

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it! (this is what motivates me to continue writing)!

i write for FREE - I am also trying to steer away from paetron so everyone can have access my stories - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

YN was much more nervous than Harry as they pull up to Anne’s house in their rented car - she was overly excited by their last minute trip up to their little lake house with them.

“Darling, can hear you worrying from here,” Harry chuckles softly as he navigates the unpaved, long twisting driveway back into the heavily forested property.

Since he’d found out she way pregnant, he’d been obsessed with her belly (even more so than before), there wasn’t much to show quite yet - just a little pudge of her lower stomach.

His hand constantly was on it, when they drove, it was one hand on the wheel and the other on her tummy, thumbing at the skin.

“I just- we should have told her we were getting married and now we’re going to drop the bombshell that we’re expecting a baby and we eloped,” YN replies with a quiver in her tone, she loved Anne and Gemma, the last thing she had ever wanted to do was upset them or make them feel excluded.

YN also already knew that Gemma had the tendency to react strongly to news she didn’t like - blunt and unfiltered.

“If they’re angry about it, I’ll take the heat. I’ll always protect you, y’know? You and our bub,” Harry reminds her as he shifts the car into park and leans over the console to give her a firm kiss, “No more worrying, s’not good for our baby, yeah?”

Harry had thrived since the draft, since they moved, and since he found out he was going to be a dad - he was so family-oriented and ready to be the man they needed him to be.

“Harry-“ YN huffs unsettled, feeling a bit like he’s writing her emotions off.

He understands right away, mimicking her pout before murmuring, “Sweetheart, are you happy with the decision we made? Getting married at the courthouse, just you and I?”

YN’s brow furrows in confusion, “Of course, I am. Wouldn’t have wanted to have it any other way than that.”

“Okay, we’ll then at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. We did what is right for us, if they aren’t supportive than that’s on them but I can’t imagine they won’t be. Maybe just a bit surprised,” Harry reasons, his thumb dragging along her bottom lip before he is kissing her once more like he can’t help it.

-

Anne starts to get suspicious almost instantly, call it a motherly instinct but YN seems a bit flighty and Harry is overcompensating by being way too friendly to Gemma.

When Anne suggests they take a swim in the lake before dinner, YN refuses nearly instantly, and says didn’t feel up to it after the travel.

Gemma catches it when Harry’s hand subconsciously gravitates towards YN’s stomach multiple times before he’s quickly moving it to her hip instead.

As Anne lays out the spread of food, hamburgers and hotdogs from the grill, YN is nearly melted into Harry’s side - trying to get as close as possible.

YN is barely pecking at her pasta salad that Anne made just because she loves it so much usually but obviously not right now.

“Is everything okay?” Anne finally ventures, putting her wine glass down and looking seriously between the two.

“Mum,” Harry cuts in, dropping his hamburger back onto his plate, “YN and I have something we would like to tell you.”

“Oh my goodness, did you propose?” Anne smiles widely, she knows that Harry had been discussing it since after their first date.

“Er, I did,” Harry rubs the back of his neck before taking a deep breathe and spitting it out, “I proposed about two months ago.”

YN feels her heart drop into her stomach already when Anne and Gemma’s face drops.

“We got married two weeks ago,” Harry continues, his voice wavering like it normally never done, his hand squeezing YN’s thigh in an attempt to reassure her.

“You…? I’m so confused, Harry,” Anne replies carefully, trying to keep her expression neutral to hide the shock.

“We’re pregnant,” Harry tells them, “We found out about two months ago, right after we came home from Miami. I proposed and we got married two weeks ago at the city courthouse.”

Anne’s eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise, Gemma’s mouth is literally gaped open in blatant shock.

Anne is a good mother though, so she tapers down the hurt from not being included and nearly whispers to YN, “You’re pregnant?”

YN is tearful, nodding as water bubbles in her eyes.

“You’re too young,” Gemma mumbles with a furrowed brow, “What kind of scheme is this? Are you trying to trap him?”

She then tacks on, “S’what it sounds like to me. How on earth would Harry want a baby at twenty-one?”

Harry’s heart shatters for his wife when she bursts out in tears at the accusation.

It was untrue, hurtful, disgusting.

“Gemma, enough,” Anne orders with extreme firmness, disappointment lacing her tone because of whatever her daughter had the nerve to say, “You do not get to just sa-“

Harry’s rage is already at a ten, he’s pushing himself away from the table - unbothered when his drink toppled over and spills down Gemma’s shirt.

“The fuckin’ nerve you have,” Harry laughs in disbelief at his normally supportive sister, “How fuckin’ dare you speak to my wife like that.”

If YN wasn’t so distraught she would have basked in the usage of wife but right now she didn’t feel like she could catch a breath.

“We’re leaving,” He announces in a tight, rumbling voice as he helps YN by pulling her chair out and his full instinct right now is to protect his wife and his baby.

“Harry, we can work this out,” Anne interjects, upset and tearful herself, she didn’t want to watch her children come at each other like this, “You were planning on staying for three days.”

“And I’ll find us a hotel,” He argues before he’s giving his sister one more dirty look, he’s handing YN the car keys and murmurs, “Go to the car, I’ll be out in a mo’.”

YN nods, sheepishly giving everyone a wave before quickly leaving the room - they all are silent until the front door closes.

“Listen, I’ve let you talk to me like that for way too long,” Harry tells his sister seriously, “And it’s not going to happen anymore. I will not allow you to talk to my wife like that.”

Gemma scoffs, picking at her nails like she’s unbothered, “Wife? We get it Harry, you’re married. How much did she have to pressure you to propose? Was it before or after she “accidentally” got pregnant”

Harry could tell her how he got down on one knee as soon as she told him that she was pregnant - how much surprise had crossed YN’s face at it.

“Do you not realize it takes two to make a baby, Gemma?” Harry knows he’s raising his voice, “Explain to me how it’s solely her responsibility that she’s pregnant? Because last time I check, she’s pregnant because of me.”

“Enough!” Anne finally shouts, at her wits end with her two children as she slams her hand on the table to stop the argument.

“If you don’t get your fuckin’ head on right, you’re not going to be involved in my child’s life,” Harry tells her, it wasn’t an empty threat, “Because YN and my baby are my top priority now.”

With that, Harry’s turning on his heel, and storming out the front door - making sure it rattles on its hinges as he leaves.

Harry makes his way out to their rented SUV, opening the passenger side door, and pulling YN into the tightest hug he can muster, “I am so sorry, sweet girl.”

YN is sobbing into his chest, her whole body shaking as she tries to be speak, “I di-didn’t purposefully get preg-pregnant. I would never try to trap you.”

Harry knows that YN is trying to talk through it because being accused of that had never even crossed her mind.

“Listen to me,” Harry says seriously, tilting her chin up and meeting her watery eyes, “I never ever thought that. We both knew you weren’t being consistent with your pills that week. I knew there was a chance and if I would have been concerned, I would have wore a condom and I didn’t. You are not the only one responsible for this pregnancy.”

“I just want to go home,” YN replies quietly, glancing towards the floor with sadness and disappointment interwoven between her words.

“I’ll change the flight to tomorrow, we’ll stay in a hotel tonight, and the go home, okay?” Harry reassures her, wiping the tears from her cheeks, “I love you, more than anything. Please forgive me.”

YN’s eyes meet his once again, confused, “Forgive you? You did nothing wrong and your family was right to question me.”

“No, they were not bloody right to question you,” Harry argues softly, hands moving down to cradle her belly, “They had no business asking us about why you got pregnant. Let’s get you to a hotel, just want to run you a nice bath and hold you.”

“I love you,” YN sniffles, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Best husband ever, you know?”

“Now I’ve really got to get you there, you know every time you call me your husband - I get so fucking hard,” He smirks wolfishly, breaking the tension and making his wife giggle.

-

Harry finds a really nice hotel by the airport, it still is hard to remember that he, well they, have money to stay at places that aren’t just a single room, cheap stay but a top floor with a sitting room, kitchenette, balcony.

He’s easily recognizable and they were more than happy to find him a room despite their sign saying ‘no walk-ins.’

Harry waste no time in dropping their bags and finding the bathroom to begin fill the massive tub with water.

YN trails in, the steam and sweet smell of the vanilla body wash he splashed in to make bubbles, it makes her want to moan with relief from the aches in her body from traveling while pregnant.

“C’mon, show me,” Harry encourages raspily when she trails in but he’s already coming over to help remove her clothes.

He just admires her once she’s bare, looks her up and down, and just groans before his hands and mouth are on her, “Fuckin’ hell, darling. There’s nothing on this earth more beautiful than you all plump and full of my baby.”

“H,” YN whines in return when his lips find her sensitive nipples, they’d gotten so much more since her pregnancy, “Too much,” YN squeaks at one point when he nips with his teeth.

Harry pulls back with a mocking little pout, thumbing over the bud in apology, “S’too much? So sensitive now that you’re carrying my baby, huh?”

“Mm,” She replies noncommittally, her hand coming to push on his shoulder to get him lower and he looks up at her with a cheeky smile.

“What do you want? Can’t give it to you unless you tell me,” Harry teases like a brat, it’s obvious how painfully he’s hard in his tight briefs.

“Harry,” YN responds reproachfully, not in the mood for the teasing as she digs her nails in a bit in warning as she gives him a look.

“Okay, m’sorry,” He coos sweetly, understanding that she’s not in a playful mood as he squats down and murmurs, “Hi bubba, s’your daddy. Being good for your mama in there, hm?”

YN is smiling down at the interaction until her mind flashes back to earlier

“You’re too young.”

“What kind of scheme is this? Are you trying to trap him?”

“S’what it sounds like to me. How on earth would Harry want a baby at twenty-one?”

YN feels her stomach lurch before she’s taking a step back from her husband and turning to the toilet to empty her stomach.

“Whoa, sweetheart,” Harry replies in alarm, moving to hold her hair back and a hand coming to massage her shoulder blades, “Breathe, s’okay.”

YN has tears streaming down her cheeks when she flushes and closes the lid, her chest heaving a bit faster than usual.

“It-it’s not okay. I’m the reason your in a bad place with your family. I-I never want to come between you and them,” YN sniffles, allowing Harry to guide her into now full tub with her and make sure she’s sat carefully.

Harry scootches in behind her, letting her lay back against his chest, and his hands instantly come to rest on her belly.

“The look of your m-mum and sister’s face when we told them. They looked devastated, like I’ve just ruined your whole life,” She adds in, squeezing her eyes shut and trying not to let herself panic too much.

“Please don’t cry, darling,” Harry begs softly, lips kissing across her shoulder blades, “Don’t listen to them. If they’re not happy for us, it doesn’t matter. We are happy. I want you, I want this baby. I want it more than anything. You don’t know how much I want this. I-I never thought I’d have it.”

-

Harry was at a frat party, a group of girls flacked around him and his friends but most of them only had eyes for the star of the show.

They were joking about blowjobs of all things, not Harry but the other guys, and all the girls were batting their lashes.

“I’d have no problem taking Harry upstairs and showing off my skills,” A pretty brunette smiles widely at him, her hand coming to squeeze at his bicep.

The group of boys was hooting and hollering at the offer, nudging him with their elbows, and pushing him into the girl who took that as an opportunity to begin kissing his neck.

Logically, Harry knows that he should want this. He knows that he should want to go upstairs and get his rocks off with a pretty girl but he didn’t, he didn’t have any desire to do that.

He was broken.

And when he gently shoves her off and says, “I’m good. Anyone else need another beer?”

Chase, the first base player, makes a offended noise and chuckles, “Are you gay or somethin’ Styles?”

The group laughs.

Everyone except Harry and Niall.

Niall interrupts by saying, “No everyone is a sleaze like you, Chase. Wasn’t your first kiss your cousin?” Before he’s wrapping his arm around Harrys neck and saying, “I could use another Budweiser.”

Harry doesn’t know why he feels like he wants to cry but he does, he manages to escape the party, and go up to his room.

If he can’t let some cute girl into his bed, how’s he every going to find someone to be with and have a family.

Harry wondered whether baseball was all he was ever going to have.

-

“Don’t you cry too,” YN giggles, bringing Harry back from his flashback, “We can’t both be crying.”

“We can,” Harry chuckles throatily, lips pressing against her neck, “I wished and wished for you and I found you. My soulmate, meant for me, meant to be my wife, and meant to have my babies.”

“You and the bub are the most important thing to me. Just because I’m twenty-one doesn’t mean that I don’t want this. I’ve never been happier, married to you, and I am so in love with our baby we haven’t even met yet.”

YN brings up his hand to kiss his palm then laying it back on her belly, “You’re going to be the best daddy on this earth. I just want your mom and sister to be involved in his life too even if they don’t want to talk to me.”

“If they don’t respect you, they won’t be involved. My mum is just confused but Gemma, I don’t know why she reacted like that. I expected more of her,” Harry murmurs matter-of-fact.

“Babies,” YN repeats from earlier.

“Hmm?” He replies, lost in thought.

“You said I’m meant to have your babies, plural.”

Harry laughs loudly, teeth biting playfully into her skin before his hands are moving up to twist at her nipples, “You’re funny. Don’t act like I won’t want to put more on you after this. Gonna make you a mama, hm? How many kids two, three? As many as you let me give you.”

YN let’s her head drop back against his shoulder when one hand moves down between her thighs, while the other still is pinching and massaging her nipples.

She lets out a satisfied moan when his fingers tuck between her folds and begin to rub at her puffy clit - her legs trying to spread as far as possible in the tub.

“Fuck,” YN whimpers happily, squirming a bit as he gives her relentless pressure in her bud with skill, “Don’t know how you’re so good at making me come.”

Cue his cock twitching at that.

“S’cause I was made to please your perfect body, your pretty nipples, this belly, your cunt makes my mouth-water,” Harry nearly growls with how low his tone gets as her legs start to quiver with the oncoming pleasure.

“H,” YN gasps when it barrels through her body, thighs trying to squeeze shut, trapping his hand but his other holds them open, “It-it’s good.”

When she finally comes down, Harry is cocky as he always is, “You look so gorgeous when your coming because of me. Fuckin’ hell.”

YN manages to reach her arm around, fingers wrapping around his length, and it only embarrassingly takes a few pumps for Harry to find his own end.

“Shut up,” He whines when she snickers at him, pinching her nipple once more meanly, “Can’t help it, sweetheart. Now, let’s get you to bed.”

-

It’s pretty early in the morning when there’s a knock of the hotel room door, the two were already awake and cuddling in bed still - Harry had went down to where they serve breakfast to get her a glass of apple juice and had gotten bombarded with fans.

“Did you order room service?” YN asks curiously as the knock echos through their room.

“No, I hope it’s not some fan who thought it’d be a good idea to come up here,” Harry replies tersely, tugging back on his pair of shorts before swinging up the door.

It was Gemma and Anne.

Harry just gives them a look, biting the side of his mouth before very calmly saying, “If you’re here to stir up more drama, no thank you. You already gave my wife enough stress last night and I won’t tolerate anymore.”

Gemma’s a bit ready as she shakes her head, “I’m not. I came to apologize. I drank way too much last night and that’s not an excuse, I’m sorry.”

Harry begrudgingly let’s them in, “I’ll go get YN.”

He steps back into their bedroom, she’s still sipping on her apple juice in just a loose, lace nightie that accentuates the curve of her breasts.

“It’s my mum and Gemma,” Harry tells her softly, bending over to snatch up a shirt and leggings for her to pull on, “Gemma wants to apologize. It’s up to you whether you want to see her or not. I’m not pressuring you either way.”

“No, it’s okay,” YN replies a bit nervously, letting Harry help her change into appropriate clothes before she’s throwing her hair up in a bun and stepping into the living area.

Anne and Gemma both have gift bags in their hands, setting them on the table, and there’s a moment of awkward silence.

“I am so sorry for the way I acted,” Gemma blurts out with tears already forming in her eyes, “It was uncalled for and out of line.”

YN stands their quietly for a moment before nodding, “I accept your apology. However, I can inform you both that even though the baby was not planned, we are very much both excited to be parents.”

Anne steps forward and wraps YN in a hug, warm and soft, and murmuring, “I can’t believe I’m going to have a grandbaby.”

Gemma could clearly hear in YN’s tone that she was not fully forgiven, she tried again, “I-It had nothing to do with you, you know? It’s just that my brother just signed a multi-million dollar contract, just graduated college, and has his whole life ahead oh him. A baby…well that’s roadbump.”

YN grits her teeth, shifting into mama bear mode as she cradles her stomach protectively, “My baby is not a roadbump in our life. How dare you say that to us.”

Harry has rage boiling inside his stomach, watching his wife get riled up, and he tells Gemma, “You don’t control my life. I knew YN wasn’t taking her birth control consistently and I still decided to not use a condom. Happy you know the details now?”

YN is quiet but firm when she says, “I’d like some alone time now. Goodbye Anne,” before she’s turning on her heel back to their bedroom.

“Gemma,” Harry bites out in anger, “I think it’s best if we kept our distance for awhile. I can’t have you continuously upsetting my wife. If you’re not going to support us then you need to back the fuck off.”

“So you choose your wife over me?” Gemma scoffs in disbelief as Anne just lets her children figure it out themselves - her mouth in a tight line of disapproval and irritation.

“Yes. It’s my duty to protect her and our baby. It’s my job. Mum, I’m sorry but we need to catch up another day,” Harry gives her a kiss on the cheek before glaring at his sister, “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

When Harry is making his way back to the bedroom, he’s disappointed himself, and he feels like he’s about to cry but he has to stay strong for YN.

She’s not crying like he had expected though, she had flipped on the television and shimmied out of her leggings to resume her comfortable position on the bed - a hand rubbing her belly.

Harry crawls back on the bed too, instantly pushing her shirt up under her breasts and smattering soft kisses all over her somewhat taut skin.

YN is alarmed when she feels teardrops on her stomach, moving to tilt Harry’s head up, and frowning when she sees his face.

“Oh honey,” She titters as she wipes his cheeks with her thumbs, “Don’t cry, my love.”

“I just wanted them to be happy for us. I mean my mum was but Gemma just fuckin’ ruined the announcement for us twice!” Harry huffs out loudly, knuckling at his eye, “Just was looking forward to having that special moment with my mum. She’s so fucking selfish.”

“H, we can deal with it another day. It’s not the time to try to solve the issue when we’re upset,” YN reminds him pulling him up until he’s carefully resting his weight on her, “Right now, it’s just us. And that’s all that matters.”

“It really fucking is all that matters.”

-

YN can’t stand to see Harry heartbroken, he lays down for a nap after their breakfast, and he’s seems low - in a stupor as he shuffles under the blankets.

She calls up Anne, just Anne, and asks her to come back over because she has a plan to make this all better (or try to mend the situation a bit).

YN orders lunch, sets it up nicely in the living room, and welcomes Anne in - she’s gonna wake him up but he must hear the commotion and comes sauntering out in his low-slung shorts.

“Wha’s going on?” Harry mumbles with a frown, he glances around and notices that Gemma isn’t accompanying them.

“Come eat,” YN pats the couch next to her.

After they’re finished filling their plates, YN starts by saying, “Anne, we have an announcement to make.”

Anne’s eyes go wide in faux surprise but she is smiling softly, putting down her fork and knife, and looking at both of them intently.

“H, do you want to tell her?” YN nudges him as he glances between the two of them in confusion, YN nods toward her stomach, and Harry catches on.

God, he loves his wife.

“Mum,” Harry shutters a bit, pushing his plate back, “YN and I are pregnant. The baby is due in January and we-we couldn’t be happier.”

Anne stands up, rounding the table and pulls Harry in to a hug, cradling his head, and stroking his hair, whispering, “I am so happy for you two, my sweet boy. I know you’re going to be the most amazing father.”

Harry is sniffling, seeming like a little boy in his mum’s arms as he asks, “You’re happy for us?”

Anne chuckles, pinching his cheek, “Don’t be silly. Of course, I am. You two are adults. You have a funds and ability to care for the baby. I couldn’t be more thrilled for both of you. But you, H, will always be my baby.”

#mlb!verse #mlbrry #mlb!harry blurbs #mlb!harry masterlist #mlb!harry #mlb harry #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #update #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #file #erodasfishtacos #mllb!harry blurb masterlist #erodasfishtacos masterlist #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harrys house #one shot harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles dad #husband!harry #harry styles husband #dad!harry

[sirenologyyy]

ROCKAWAY !

ao'nung x fem!sully reader

✷ premise : as tensions rise and your family is forced out of the only home you've ever known, fish boy meets forest girl and the rest is history (tragedy)

✷ warnings : kidnapping, swearing, injury, blood, violence, and death

✷ author's note : here's part 2 for you guys! Just a lil heads up the fight scene is in this one 👀 also hinewai is pronounced as HEE-neh-WAI !

part 2 of the SOLD OUT OF LOVE series

"These are ilu, if you want to live here you have to ride "

You turn to Neteyam and Lo'ak, your eyes meeting theirs.

"Don't tell me you're actually scared baby bro" Neteyam taunts, leaning closer to Lo'ak as they pretended to pay attention to Ao'nung teaching them how to properly bond with an ilu.

"Who the hell says i'm scared?"

"He's bluffing" You appended lightnight fast, keeping your eyes on Ao'nung while tilting your body towards your oldest brother.

"Yeah I know he is," He crowed. "I know his tell, his face turns purple and his tail draws zig-zags in the air-" He stops. "Oh my bad, he was just looking at Tsireya"

Lo'ak jabs his elbow against Neteyam's arm as you tried stifling your laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth before it was too late.

"Are you three even listening?" Ao'nung asks, zeroing his eyes at each of you respectively, his eyes lingering on your face longer than you had liked to the point that you had just raised both your eyebrows acknowledging him, he looks away innocently, glaring at Lo'ak once more.

Neteyam looks at him. "Right, yeah, sorry"

"Answer the question skxawng" He maintained.

Lo'ak stepped up, showing his palms. "Look take it easy alright? Don't need to get a knot in your tail so early in the morning"

The blue frog was a few seconds shy from steam leaving his ears and Tsireya quickly notices. "Now that Ao'nung has explained to you all the basics, who wants to go first?" She asks.

Innocently, you shove Lo'ak forward as the rest of you took a step backwards like something tugged at the neurological link that connected between siblings. He looked at all of you standing two steps away from him almost scandalised, betrayed, possibly even outraged.

"Lo'ak!" Tsireya exclaimed happily, clapping her hands as she wades toward him, pulling him to the ilu that had been circling her through out the entire session. He looked back at the rest of you in fear, you and Neteyam silently giving words of support and encouragement as Tsireya pulled him along with her.

"Swing your leg over her body" Ao'nung instructs once Tsireya dragged the both of you a few ways away from the others, you begrudgingly swung your right leg over the ilu's slender body, running a hand over her neck as an attempt to console it from the abrupt weight shift that was you sitting on her back.

You barely even blinked before you hear Ao'nung's tongue check in his mouth. "You're sitting on it wrong"

You whirl your head at him. "I'm sitting on it wrong? " You reiterate, widening your eyes at him in disbelief.

"Yes" He deadpans. "A million possible ways you can ride an ilu yet you ride it as if you're trying to wrestle with it"

You roll your eyes in frustration, but nearly jumping out of your skin when you feel his warm hand on your leg, out of instinct you jabbed your foot against his chest, sending him a few steps back. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? He sends you a sharp look. "Relax Forest Girl, I am not here to violate you" He retaliates boredly. "Put your leg down here, you're not trying to ride an íkran," He began, shifting your leg to a different more comfortable position. "Go and make the bond"

You connect your queues together and a surge of memories wash over you, clear and exhilarating days of swimming in the open ocean, hunting for food, playing in the reefs, the fear of losing her parents to akulas, your stomach sinking as you watched it swim away, the love she had for her children, 5 babies, you felt as proud as she was.

"Now we can finally start by fixing that horrible posture of yours, Eywa Almighty you look like a deformed shrimp"

"Just teach me how to ride the goddamn thing"

"I'm getting there"

You huffed, straightening your back and squaring your shoulders, trying to get yourself used to sitting on an ilu.

"You have to treat her like she is one of your own," Ao'nung tells you, walking towards the head of the ilu. "You must be gentle, slow, treat her with respect, with compassion, and most of all ride her like you care for her-"

You finally slump. "Are you teaching me how to ride an ilu or get it pregnant?"

You heard his hand splash the surface of the water, your ilu baying at the sudden action. "Would the repercussions of murdering Toruk Makto's daughter short of death? because i am going to risk it"

"You talk too much" You tell him with a sour expression.

"You talk too much " He repeats in a tone that you assumed was a crude imitation of your voice.

Your jaw almost went slack if not for your brother, zooming past your peripheral on his ilu. You turn your body around, following his distorted figure until he is thrown off his ilu. You hear Ao'nung rise from the water and laugh as his other friends do, you realize how quickly you missed Rotxo's presence.

As Lo'ak swims back to the group, Ao'nung turns to you.

"Hold here" He says, gesturing to the ilu's gill mantle, you do as he says, adjusting your grip every now and then to see which one could keep you on the longest. "Mind your back, Forest Girl"

You straighten it once more. "Jesus Christ"

His face twists again. "What the hell is a Jesus Christ?" He stops himself. "You know what I do not want to know, keep your back straight and your legs in the same position as they were before or you will be sliding across the beach like a skipping stone"

"You're a real hit aren't you"

"I know" He grinned.

You let out a puff of air as you flexed your shoulders, feeling your back crack. "Y/N! It is your turn!" Tsireya calls out, beckoning you towards her and the empty space where Lo'ak had taken off just moments earlier. You swallowed, telling your ilu to move forward and as she does you lower your head closer to hers. "You won't throw me off will you?"

She clicks and yelps at you, only hoping that was her saying 'no worries pal'

Your ilu who you unofficially decided to name Hinewai, stops at the center of everyone. Lo'ak barely made it past that rock formation shaped like a fang, if you could somehow hang on til then and the way back then Ao'nung could shove that smug smile right up his ass.

"Okay, go!" Tsireya exclaimed.

"Hyah!" You yell, before filling your cheeks with air and descending under the water. It was a rough ride at first but you held onto the gill mantle for dear life while she flailed you around like some ragdoll, your left hand slips, you only manage to hold onto it again after a minute of her chasing some fish through the coral reef, making hard turns, your legs and arms getting scraped by the rocky surfaces of coral. She catches it just outside the small reef and you tell her to bring you up for some air, coincidentally a few steps away from the group.

Neteyam, Kiri, Tuk, and Tsireya started cheering you on as your body broke through the water , Lo'ak a little less considering his twin baby sister just rode and ilu and didn't fall off like he did. On the first try nonetheless, and lastly Ao'nung who didn't utter a peep.

"You were amazing out there!" Neteyam shouts, wading up to you with the rest of your siblings.

"It didn't feel like it" you admitted, almost laughing in the process.

"You should've seen Lo'ak's face when he realized you were coming back still riding your ilu" Kiri giggles, earning a nudge from Lo'ak who simply grinned before trapping you in a headlock and digging a knuckle against your hair, you try and push him off before smacking him in the face which catches him off guard.

"Teyam and Lo'ak were betting on you, you know, they said if you fell then Neteyam gets Lo'ak's chores for two weeks" Kiri adds before Lo'ak slaps his hand on her mouth, passing it off with a little laugh.

"It's true," Tuk says, looking at Lo'ak. "If you did fell Lo'ak gets Neteyam's chores plus a week's worth of yovo fruit"

"Tuk hit her head on the wall before leaving the house, she dosen't know what she's saying" says Lo'ak.

Tuk was about to object before Lo'ak picks her up sideways and blows raspberries on her stomach, bringing her to Tsireya to feed the ilus.

"Where is your brother?"

"He's down by the beach"

Neytiri frowns. "It is lunch time, very unlikely for Lo'ak not to be here by now"

"He had a big breakfast" You tell her, setting down the basket of fish you and Neteyam managed to catch after riding the ilus. "Near threatened to beat me if I didn't give him my share of banana fruit this morning"

A couple of your siblings chuckle along with you.

"Look, if he's hungry he can come to us, me and your mom have business to take care of after lunch so we gotta eat quick" Jake disclosed, nodding at the empty spots next to the dining table as he himself sat down. Neytiri asks Kiri to lead the prayer and once she was done thanking for the food you've all received and whatnot you started to dig in. Nabbing a piece of fish, breaking it apart, ripping a piece of meat, and popping it in your mouth.

"I heard you all practiced with ilus today," Jake starts, swallowing. "How'd that go?"

"It went okay, sir" Neteyam answers beside you. "Challenging at first but nothing a little practice couldn't fix"

"Good to hear" says Jake.

"Ma'ite, please sit properly" Neytiri says, looking at you. You resist the urge to groan so you put your leg down, your elbow previously resting on it before she spots you from across the table. This was stupid.

"Is that an eyeroll?" Jake wonders almost instantly, your ears flicking down for a millisecond before you look up at him to make sure he was talking to you. Yeah he was talking to you. "No, sir" you reply.

"Better not be"

"Teyam, pass the fish" Kiri asks quietly, pointing her chin at the basket of fish located in between you and him, he hands it to her across the table, watching her lips to mutter a small thank you.

You see your dad break apart a yovo fruit. "How're you all treatin' the Olo'eyktan's children? You nice to them?"

More like were they nice to us?

"Yes sir"

"Great, I need that to remain a constant, I expect the best from all of you alright?" Now that Lo'ak wasn't here his eyes find yours instantly. "Yes?"

A scattered chorus of yes sir's and yes dad's were heard across the dining table.

"Before we make dinner I want you two to help me with repurposing some of Tuk's old clothes" Says Neytiri, she didn't have to look at any of you for you to know who she was referring to.

"Okay" Kiri replies, breaking apart a yovo fruit as well, splitting the other half with Tuk.

"Okay" you say, flipping the fish to its other side to pick at the remaining meat.

You hear the collision of a wooden glass onto the table. "Should we head over?" Jake asks, looking at Neytiri who seemed to have finished eating as well, she responds with a silent nod.

They stand up from the table in unison, going over to wash their hands before they head on out. "I don't want none of you clowning around when we're away is that clear?" You barely had any time to respond before your Dad starts talking again. "Be on your best behavior or I swear you'll never hear the end of it from me"

"Be good, all of you" Mom adds.

"Neteyam, Y/N, up and at 'em " Neteyam stands up straight, straight back, straight face, so do you, though a bit slower than him. "You're in charge as usual, you know what to do once your siblings start upsetting the apple cart, you read me?"

Neteyam gives him a curt nod. "Affirmafive sir, loud and clear"

"Now for you," He says rounding on you. "Don't bite off more than you can chew alright?"

"Aye, aye" You reply, your voice hinting at the slightest almost impercievable tone of sarcasm you so desperately wanted to use.

"Alright, dismissed" and just like that they were gone.

You finally slouch again. "Come on, hurry up and finish your food before they come back"

Neteyam sighed. "Don't do that, you might choke on a fishbone"

"We can just see who's faster at putting away the plates" Tuk suggested, pushing a piece of fish in her mouth she stole from your plate.

"Do you want my fish?" You just ask, she nods and so you ripped her half of whatever meat was left before you wolfed down the rest.

Neteyam downs a glass of water. "Hah! Done!"

"Yeah well so am I!" Tuk combats incoherently, her cheeks full of fish before she swallows it all down.

"We're all done, silly" says Kiri, standing up and bringing her leaf to the sink where she scrapes all of what was left of her plate down the hole, an ilu that was waiting beneath the hut chomping on all of the left overs.

"Tuk go grab the rest of the bowls " You tell her, scraping your scraps down the hole before giving it to Kiri who washed it down.

Once the table was cleared and the dishes were put away you all go out of the hut, Kiri down to the beach to find Lo'ak while you and Neteyam watch Tuk running off towards a group of village children who beckoned her to play with them, not looking back at you any longer.

You turn to Neteyam. "Eywa, I wish it was that easy to make friends here"

He chuckles. "Come on, it's Tuk" He tells you knowingly.

"I wish we were all like Tuk" you sang, sighing greatly.

"They probably just start out really sweet, and as they grow older they turn all twisted and mean, like Ao'nung"

"No" You tell him, shaking your head, staring at your youngest sister slowly turn into a blurry figure as she got farther and farther away from you. "He was dropped as a child, it's the only explanation"

You and him walk along the coastline, enjoying the cold breeze, the warm sun, before Kiri's voice captures your attention. You didn't need to see the look on Neteyam's face before the both of you ran towards the sound. Under the shade of the trees you see Kiri and Lo'ak.

And Ao'nung and his friends.

Neteyam gets there faster than you, turning Ao'nung to face him. "You heard what she said, leave them alone"

You see one of Ao'nung's cronies step up. "Ohh, big brother coming to-" He stops as Ao'nung stops him with a hand across his chest.

"-Back off, now" Neteyam snarled, prodding a finger at Ao'nung's chest. He takes a step back, throwing his arms up in the air to show he concedes.

This man cannot be serious.

"They don't have it in them to hit us, just a couple of lap dogs and their ring leader" You say, siding with Neteyam, eyes landing on Ao'nung who looked like he was about to transform into a plum. "Come on you guys, we're done here" You tell your siblings, walking off in annoyance before one of his friends pushes you back in the circle.

"Don't touch me" You snap, slapping his arm away and shoving his chest backward.

"Hey!" Neteyam bellows, walking up to one of his goofy ass looking friends, staring at every single one of them in the process. "From now, on I need you to respect my sisters, got that?"

So he just resorts to hissing at him. With that, Neteyam grabs your and Lo'ak's shoulders, leading the both of you out of there.

"Ba-bye!" Taunts one.

"Look at them, freaks, all four of them" You hear Ao'nung whisper, your hand started to twitch involuntarily. You turn around to give them a piece of your mind but realize that Lo'ak was already 5 steps ahead of you.

"Lo'ak" you say, abandoning your original plan, sensibility taking over.

He turns to you. "I got this, sis"

"I know this hand is funny," He began, flexing his fingers at them. "Look, I'm a freak, an alien" He tells them as they laughed. "But it can do something really cool, watch, see- you have to ball it up real tight like this, and then-"

BAM. One hit square on the nose.

BAM. another across his face.

BAM. One last, under the chin sending his ass falling down to the sand.

You couldn't help but let out a laugh at the sight, Neteyam and Kiri glaring at you.

"It's called a punch bitch! Never touch my sisters again!" Lo'ak yelled before Ao'nung rams into him. Lo'ak turns him over and punches him once more, the other boys dragged him back by his tail, one of the burly looking ones slapping him hard across the face with his own.

It wasn't fair if you simply stood and watched this right? You needed to put a stop to this.

So without thinking you started running.

Running towards the fight, dragging one of the boys away from your brother by his queue, landing one across his face, dodging a punch from another before headbutting him instead. Someone drags you away by your tail, falling to the sand with a loud thud, you turn to your back and jab your heel against his loincloth, springing back up before one of the boys turn you around to try and land a punch, one to the right, dodge, one to the left, until he just kneed you in the ribs making you double over so that he could finally land a punch to your cheekbone, then another punch to your cheekbone before you grab his fist, turn him around and kick his back, taking another boy down in the process, leaving them to the care of Neteyam who had joined the fight moments after you.

Ao'nung comes at you from behind, sending the both of you down, your head landing hard on a rock sending shock waves through your skull, your temple had started to bleed as you turn him over, landing punches on his nose until it bled, he kicks you off of him, punching your stinging cheekbone, your nose, your cheekbone, then your nose, as static began to fill your vision.

"You hit like a girl!" You screamed at him, struggling underneath his grip.

"So do you!" He shouts back before you try and push him off you, struggling underneath him before resorting to kicking his groin with your knee which worked like a charm, you were on your feet a second later, spitting out the liquid iron taste that filled your mouth. You switched positions, pinning him down which caught him off guard as you tried to land another hit on his face before he got away, you see the look on his face and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Careful, wouldn't want me to think you enjoy being underneath me do you?" You intoned.

Ao'nung's gaze was piercing and vile enough to poison a thanator. "I'd rather pull my spine out of my ass than ever come close to liking you"

With one last punch to his face you scramble towards Lo'ak who had three on him. You pull one away by his tail, dragging him across the beach before punching another one square to the throat, watching him choke and stagger back before you landed two punches to his face, pinning him down, getting lost in the moment and splitting his eyebrow open. The boy was absolutely befuddled, he does everything he could to get you off of him, but to no avail, he resorted to claw at you, causing your necklace to split, beads flying everywhere.

You feel your shoulder turned around by someone, it was Ao'nung once more with another punch to the nose, feeling hot blood dribble out from your nostrils, you pull his arm down, placing a knee on his ribs and finally letting go all of your pent up frustrations onto his face, you weren't even sure if the blood on your knuckles were his or yours.

"All that mouth yet you still can't fight with your fists" He pants with a sickening grin, the dark red patches on his face contrasting with the cool teal of his skin.

Your jaw tightens, forgetting the pain, letting rage take the wheel as you pulled your dagger out of its sheath, raising it up to his neck and watching as the sight of it wipes the cocky grin off his face, his lips parting in shock. "You're right, I don't, but i'm damn sure I can fight with this"

"You won't " He spat.

But you nod. "Oh but I would, I really would"

He tries to get out of your grip, you didn't even have to do anything for your knife to knick his skin.

"You want me to take this off your neck?" You ask, looking at his eyes for an answer, you weren't satisfied on what you got so you deepened your knife against his neck, making him let out a broken hiss. "Don't touch my siblings again, or so help me Eywa I will slit your throat and watch while you bleed dry on the beach then I'll call on my íkran to feast on your scorched corpse" You hissed. "You got that reef boy?"

But he does not answer, instead he stares up at you in silence, the only sound eliciting his lips were the ragged breaths he took, you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest against yours, his aquamarine eyes bouncing from every point of your face, almost reading you, until the grip on your knife loosened.

You found yourself reading him too, confusion and frustration making your face twist.

That is until someone pulls you away from him, and at the spur of the moment you almost feel like his hands tried to wrap themselves around your waist before your body was so quickly pulled out of his clutches.

Another boy gave you an uppercut, then another knee to the gut before you pointed your knife at him, sending him backwards. You try and stand up, regaining your balance as you let a grin spread on your stinging face.

"That's it," you taunt, nodding at him, unconciously baring your fangs. "Back up"

One of them tries to make a leap for you but you just do the same, so they hiss instead. Fine, you thought. You throw your dagger through the gap between them, making it's mark on a tree behind them, they were stunned to say the least, it even had wisps of hair sticking out from where the knife met the tree, they look back at you horrified.

You see them run away hurriedly calling for their ilus, Ao'nung being the last as he gave you one last look before riding his ilu.

You close your mouth, tasting blood before you wipe your nose with the back of your hand. "Candy-ass bitch" you mutter to yourself.

You were only brought out from your reverie when you hear the familiar screech of an ikran.

Well, shit

" What was the one thing I asked? "

You huffed, clutching your side. "Stay out of trouble" you say with Lo'ak.

"Stay out of trouble" your Dad repeats for emphasis.

You see Neteyam stepping forward. "Dad, it was my fault"

"No, I don't think so, you gotta stop taking the heat for these knuckleheads" He snapped, turning to you and Lo'ak.

You purse your lips, hesitating before stepping forward "Dad- S-Sir, Ao'nung was picking on Kiri" You try to explain.

"He called her a freak, they picked on Y/N too!, they pushed her around!"

"Lo'ak you asshole!" You shout at Lo'ak, your temper rising once more.

"Hey!" Jake yells, making you flinch, your ears ringing at the volume nowhere near matching your voice, it ceased another impending argument. "What were you thinking? Neteyam, how could you let this happen?"

"Sir, things just got out of hand"

"Bullshit" He says, shaking his head. "If you had handled the fight early on, if you handled it properly we could've stopped this from ever happenning, do you see that?"

Neteyam nods, staring at the floor.

Jake snaps his fingers repeatedly. "Do you see what i'm talking about Neteyam??"

"Yes, sir" He finally says, seeing his eyes blink like rapid-fire.

"Don't even get me started on the two of you" Jake complains, pointing a finger at you and Lo'ak, swinging like a pendulum, eyes landing on your twin brother. "You hit them first! You never hit- what do I always say? "

"Never hit first or else you're no better than them"

"Exactly!" Jake exclaims. "What did you do? Did you listen to me?"

Lo'ak shook his head. "No"

"No, because you never listen do you?"

Lo'ak's ears droop, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jake looks at you and you look at him, trying to push down any iota of fear you had within you. "Christ Y/N, where do I even begin with you"

"Maybe the part where Ao'nung and-"

"-No, you don't get to talk!" He boomed, rounding on you and you quickly avert your eyes. "You don't get to talk! not after what you said to him, the Olo'eyktan's son! Do you forget who he is Y/N? The chief's son!"

"I get it, Dad" You insist, staring at the floor.

"Another word from you and you're grounded for a week" He threatens. "is this really the shit you wanna pull???"q He asks, shouting at your face as you pursed your lips together, an attempt at stopping the tears that threatened to fall. "You're lucky if the Tsahík ever lets you step a foot on the beach again!"

"Well that son of a bitch deserved it" You said bravely.

"I don't care if he did or not, you are in the wrong, you need to see that"

"Dad, she was only trying to-"

"-zip it" He tells Neteyam. "I expected this shit from your bothers but never from you, never you, now you- you went out there and proved me wrong... what do you gotta say for yourself?"

You remained silent and you heard him hum. "That's what I thought"

His flick upwards to your bleeding temple, your bruised face and suddenly he starts remembering that stormy night. "You pulled a goddamn knife to his neck, Y/N, a knife! Are you insane? "

Your own father calling you insane was worse than any blows you had to endure from those boys.

Neytiri enters the hut, walking up to you. "Ma Jake, she gets it, please stop" She says, placing her hand on your shoulder before you shrug it away harshly.

"That's the problem, she dosen't does she?, she never thinks it through, punch first questions later, isn't that right?" He taunts, looking at you, still maintaining a shit poker face. "I can't believe you" He tells you whilst shaking his head in disapproval, that's when your lower lip starts to tremor and your throat start to to cave in.

"You have no idea how disappointed I am of you" He says to the three of you, his tail swishing in the air in frustration. "Most especially you " He tells you, feeling your stomach sink, your eyes start to fog up.

"Go apologise to Ao'nung, both of you"

"What?" Lo'ak retaliates.

"I don't care how you do it, just go and make peace"

Lo'ak heads out first, walking down the steps and onto the beach.

"So what'd the other guys look like?" Jake asks Neteyam.

"Worse"

Jake nods. "Good"

"A lot worse" You hear Neteyam say as you had your back against your Dad, knowing you weren't leaving the hut to apologise to Ao'nung. Turning towards the forest when you see Ronal and Tonowari out on the beach, talking to Ao'nung's friends and hearing the words "have you seen him around-?" before their conversation deemed too incoherent to decipher.

Your chest felt too tight, your eyes felt too hot, your back ached, your head was spinning. You had found yourself hiding in a secluded part of the island, surrounded by trees and wildlife, water trickling down the stone formations that stood behind you, birds flee above your warbling and squawking, insects chirping and squeaking.

You covered your ears as you allowed the tears to spill from your eyes, curled up into a ball as you stared into the void.

You couldn't breathe.

The world was moving too fast and you couldn't catch up, your grip on it loosening.

You tried forgetting the words your Dad told you, making yourself believe that they didn't matter because he was just angry and he only wanted to look out for you, but you couldn't, your mind was sealed shut and nothing came in or out.

You were spiraling now.

You couldn't breathe, your lungs felt like they were set on fire

Suddenly your mind started to become loud. So loud that it made you wonder where the sound was coming from, you were alone weren't you?

Was it all just happenning inside your head?

That's the problem, she dosen't does she?, she never thinks it through, punch first questions later, isn't that right?

You remember his voice, how he mocked you, how he taunted you.

Are you insane?

You shut your eyes tight, shaking your head, convincing yourself that this was all in your head.

You have no idea how disappointed I am of you, especially you.

"Stop" you tell the disembodied voice, keeping your hands clasped tightly over your ears "You aren't real, you aren't real"

"Who isn't real?"

You whirl your head at lightning speed, almost giving yourself a whiplash in the process, there, just a few steps away from you was Ao'nung, all battered and bruised, standing behind a stream of sunlight.

You stand up abruptly. "Go away" you tell him, turning around to face the rock formation, wiping your tears away.

He stands there for a moment, just looking at you, seeing the wet trails on your cheeks before you so hurriedly turn away from him. "I'm not here to taunt you, Forest Girl" He tells you.

You hum, turning back around. "I don't believe you"

He stepped forward now, directly into the sunlight, highlighting his bruises the shape of golfballs, his eyes turning into a shade of blue you never knew existed. "Fine, believe what you want to" he sighed.

"Have you come to laugh at me?"

He throws his arms in the air only to have them land on either side of his hips with a thwack. "Eywa, were you not just listening to me talk?"

"I'm afraid I hadn't been paying attention to you at all" you confessed dryly.

He gives you a look. "What are you doing here?"

You shrug. "I like looking at rocks"

"You lie" He muttered.

"No I don't"

"Are too"

"I really like how they're so grey"

He raises his eyebrows at you. "Tell me the truth, Forest Girl"

"I wanted to be alone" You say. "I don't like the beach, I don't like the Marui, I wanted some place where it felt like everything was still simple, even when it's not"

Then, a brief moment of silence.

Ao'nung looks around, there were the trees, the grass, the flowers, the insects, the shrubs, the plants.

"I understand" He says, shocking you to your very core. "You are an outsider, you do not belong here in Awa'tlu"

You couldn't help the snuff that comes out of your nose. "Thanks"

"But my people use this trail often," He explained. "you will not feel at peace here"

You stay silent, thinking about what he said, how he said it, how he's behaving, no signs of hostility, or resentment, his parents have sent him away to apologise to you, that much you know.

"Your parents are finding you, you know" He tells you after a moment.

"So are yours" you tell him, recalling the moment you saw Ronal and Tonowari, talking to his other friends to know if they've spotted him or not. "You should go back"

"So should you" He bounces back.

Then, in the distance, you hear his friends calling for him, both of you turning towards the sound.

"Hey," you say, turning to him. "Do me a solid and don't lead them here okay? I'm too tired for another fight, as much as I want to beat your dim friends to a pulp I can't afford another screwup"

He stops in his tracks for a moment before he nods at you. "I wasn't going to" He says, making your eyebrows knit at the middle. "But fine, don't think I'll let you off so easy next time"

"I doubt you won't"

He turns his head back to the way he came. "I'm here! I'm here! Stay where you are I'm coming to you" He shouts before beginning to push past the overgrown leaves that was blocking the path. It addles you when you see him stop walking. "By the way, i've never met someone, let alone a girl, that can put up a fight as well as you did"

You giggle through your nose, a smile cracking on his face before he leaves you alone.

You didn't apologise to him like your father had wanted but at least it was an entire conversation where not one of you tried to spite eachother.

You kept avoiding him during lessons which was hard considering Tsireya insists that you and him were a pair already.

So far today was just practicing the transition from holding your breath for long periods under water and learning how to regain your breathe once your ilu leaps out of the water and back again, sticking mostly to your big brother than usual.

Also the fact that Ao'nung and Lo'ak still kept sending death glares to eachother during training was another highlight you've yet to mention, it got so bad that Tsireya had to dismiss all of you two hours early saying that all of your siblings did good, and that you deserved the rest of the day off.

You slap the back of Lo'ak's head. "You're doing it again"

"What do you mean?"

"Quit staring at him, it's distracting" Neteyam says.

"Jesus Lo, just rip off eachother's clothes and hit it in the sack already"

He stood up from his seat, pointing a finger at you. "You're messed up"

You giggle at him as he walks off, you turn to Neteyam who sat beside you, remaining quiet.

"Is dad talking to you yet?"

You shook your head, brushing sand off your feet as you and him sit by the roots. "No, I doubt he ever will"

"Chin up baby sis" He tells you, hooking an arm around your shoulder, shaking you gently. "It has only been two days, I'm sure he will come around"

"If it was you maybe" you tell him before squinting at the beach, watching the whitecaps forming in the horizon. "You and Lo'ak have Dad, say what you want but I know Dad always wanted two boys, Mom has Kiri and Tuk, me, I'm just... I'm not like you, 'Teyam" You found yourself saying, looking at him now. "I cheated my way out of death, became an Avatar, Kiri and I aren't your siblings by blood but at least she was born Na'vi-"

"-It dosen't seem that different to me" Neteyam interrupted you. "I always saw you as my sister, even if you only reached up to my waist when we were kids, even if you had no tail, no fangs, none of that mattered to me... so what if you look a little different now? You've always been Y/N, you've always been my little sister"

Silence ensues as the wind blew in from the sea.

"Shit Neteyam" You finally laugh, looking at the tree tops above you so that the tears that threatened to brim your eyes would somehow fall back in. "It's only 4 pm, damn you"

He cackles, pulling you closer to him until you finally just scoot over, resting your head on his shoulder. Watching the swell of the waves, lapping up at the sand before falling back into the ocean, watching as fishermen cast their nets into the water, children swimming after eachother, hearing the faint yelps of ilus in the background.

You sit there for a few minutes, possibly even half an hour, before Neteyam stands up saying he'll go check up on Kiri and Tuk and see if their Marui was still standing, and with that you are left to your own devices. You begin to hate the quiet and so you stand up and start walking into the lush fauna Awa'atlu had to offer, dancing past moss covered rocks, avoiding skittish insects crawling about. You hear a twig snap behind you, your ears perk up, and a cold feeling washes over your back, your fingers wrap themselves around the hilt of your dagger as you began walking deeper into the forest, staying light on your feet as you hear the rustling grow louder.

You swerve behind a waterfall and start running, slipping in and out of trees, ducking over overgrown branches until you bump into a teal wall of flesh, the impact was so hard you practically bounced off of eachother.

"What the hell do you think you're trying to pull?"

Ao'nung shows you his palms. "Take it easy, no need to get angry again"

"Were you the one following me?" You pressed.

"Yes, until you started running which made me have to run after you"

You abandon your fighting stance, standing up straighter. "Is this some sick joke?"

You see him scratch the side of his mouth. "I realized I never apologised to you... for- for the fight"

"I thought you'd have forgotten it by now"

"Pretty hard not to" He laughed. "I got an earful once I came back home, couldn't stop thinking about it ever since, I even lost sleep because of it"

"My deepest sympathies" You droned.

"I guess I just wanna say that I am sorry" Ao'nung mutters. "For hitting you"

You nod, biting the inside of your cheek as you look around, hearing yourself up for an apology. "I'm sorry too... for hitting you, i'm sorry that you deserved it, i hoped it hurt"

He blinked.

"Also sorry for calling you all those names, sorry for talking about you behind your back, sorry for shit talking you in front of my parents-"

He stops you with his hand. "-what?"

"Yeah"

"Fine, apology accepted" He replied gruffly, half-shrugging. "Now come on, I want to show you something"

"Like hell i'm going to follow you anywhere"

"I'm not going to murder you if that's what you're so worried about"

"Why don't I believe you?" You sassed, raising a lone eyebrow at him.

"I never asked you to believe, I only want you to trust me"

It made you think. "If I trust you, I need to believe that you won't cause me any harm, to trust is to believe"

"It works both ways Forest Girl" you could tell he was getting tired of your technicality.

Huh. "I suppose you are right"

"Are you coming or not?" He calls after you, already several steps away.

You follow him in silence, praying to Eywa he was being true to his word and was not in fact leading you to your death. The pair of you finally reach the end of the forest, a secluded beach, you see him walk all the way to the edge of the water where he called on his ilu, urging you to do the same. You called on Hinewai and you saddled her waiting for further instructions from Ao'nung, when he starts moving forward so do you, when he stops by a huge rock formation covered with palm trees and lush flowers you stop too.

"We have to swim from this point forward" He tells you, jumping off his ilu and sending it off.

You cautiously jump off yours, making a splash as your body hit the water. "I will even race you" He says.

"What are we, 10?"

He half-shrugs, giving you a boyish smile. "Take it as a practice drill"

He dives down and so do you, following him deeper, and deeper also while trying to beat him there, wherever there was. The huge rock formation had stretched down farther than you had hoped, when you spot the hole and watched Ao'ning swim inside, you were having second thoughts about following him in, but your competitiveness took over you and you pursued him, swimming faster so that you could catch up to him. He began swimming upwards, and so do you, propelling yourself as quick as you could so that you'd be head to head, your chest was starting to tighten again and you felt like his was as well, so it was a race to the top.

After what felt like hours you resurfaced and took a huge intake of breath, beating Ao'nung by mere seconds.

"Hah! Take that!" You exclaimed, hooting and cackling as your laughter bounces off the walls of the cave which were covered in bioluminescent bugs resembling Teylu, casting the cave in a soft blueish hue.

"Where are you??" He asks, whirling his head around.

"I'm right here dumbass!" You say, splashing the water which catches his attention.

He laughed loud, wiping his face of water. "I can't see a thing! Can you see?"

You giggled, throwing your head back. "Yeah, yeah! I can see! I see you!"

You both freeze, your splashing had ceased and you both just floated here, staring at eachother's hazy faces in the dark.

"Uhm-" He starts, scratching his head.

"Should i-"

"No-! Yes-! Go ahead"

You swim out of the water, propping yourselves onto the rough rock, he gestures you to follow him deeper into the cave and he stops walking, sticking his back towards the wall and pointing his chin at the most magnificent thing you've ever laid your eyes on.

Your jaw drops to your feet as you marveled at the sight before you.

"Holy fuck" you say.

AAAAAND THAT'S PART 2! The fight scene was incredibly fun to write as you can see I kinda lengthened it just cuz I had the creative freedom, also the scene with Jake, Neteyam, and Lo'ak gotta have some angst in this chapter, even though there's more coming in the suceeding parts. Anyways!!!! I hope you enjoyed! <3

#ao'nung x fem!reader #metkayina #omatikaya #jake sully #neytiri #ao'nung fic #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung x you #tsireya #neteyam #spider #lo'ak #kiri #tuk #rotxo #atwow #atwow ao'nung #avatar the way of water #sold out of love ao'nung

[star-girl69]

Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of hypothermia, mentions of death, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twenty Seven - Looking Over My Shoulder

Chapter Twenty Seven - Looking Over My Shoulder

—-

2021-

“I’m getting really worried that you’re not calling me back.”

Misty has been trying to get in contact with Taissa ever since this forsaken car ride started. You’re heading up north, to the purple people, and all you can think about is how much money Walter must be spending on gas right now.

“Either of you. Don’t make me come looking for you,” she chuckles, but you can see her worried reflection in the mirror. “I already found Y/N!”

“Hi!” you shout over her shoulder, and Misty nods, as if Taissa could see it.

“Anyways. Call me back.”

She clicks a button and sets her phone down, sighing softly, her face twisted into worry. She turns to you and Walter.

“If Taissa and Shauna have both been kidnapped, I am going to be very, very annoyed.”

“I’m sure they’re just busy,” Walter comforts, looking back and forth between her and the road.

“Yeah, Misty. The last thing they would wanna do it worry you,” you say, pretending to itch your nose to hide your smile.

“They’re all lucky to have you,” Walter continues, nodding. “It’s pretty rare to have a friend who’s relentlessly got your back.”

Misty smiles.

“Thank you,” she says, a little awkwardly, adjusting her glasses and she faces forward again. You watch, silent, as Walter looks at her. His eyes not anywhere near the road.

“Here,” he says after a moment, digging through the center console and taking something out, putting it in Misty’s lap. “This is actually for you. While you wait for your friend’s imminent replies.”

She opens the box, and you look over her shoulder, finding rows and rows of cassettes marked and labeled neatly.

“You can choose the music for the rest of the trip, and I won’t complain at all.”

When you look at Misty’s reflection, she’s shocked. You can’t help but wonder when’s the last time she felt loved and appreciated like this.

“Well…” she says. “It all makes sense now.”

“Huh?” you say, her face quickly turning annoyed.

“What?” Walter asks.

“Why you sought me out,” she hisses. “Why you’re helping me- us. You certainly did your homework.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“You can drop the whole thing now, okay? You’re one of those Yellowjackets obsessives.”

You gasp and hit the back of his seat. “Walter!”

“And I’m honored that I seem to be your favorite Yellowjacket. But, I am not gonna tell you anything about what happened out there. So, you can just drop us off at the next town.”

“So much for a free vacation,” you mutter, and Misty gestures towards you, nodding, glaring at Walter.

“Woah, woah. That is not what’s happening here. It’s like I told you. I sought you out from Citizen Detective because I wanted to work with the brilliant, investigative mind that is Agent AfricanGrey. And, because you dropped a Sweeney Todd reference in one of your posts. I-I don’t care. Um, no offense. Because I’m sure it was a significant trauma, but… I don’t care that you’re a Yellowjacket. That either of you are. That was like 30 years ago,” he shrugs.

“Twenty-five,” Misty whispers.

“And, that’s the least interesting thing about you.”

“So, you just… happen… to love musicals?” she says after a moment, flipping through the cassettes, a little more defensive now, but you can still tell she’s still a little flustered. “And it has nothing to do with me?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I don’t really care about musicals. Or what we play.”

“Oh,” Walker shrugs, leaning over and grabbing one. “So then you won’t be bothered if I put on…” he shows her the label.

“Oh, let’s tell the story of Cinderella, except every characters a train? Ugh, enough already,” she says, and puts in her own choice.

She sends him one final glare.

“People of Europe! I send you the Rainbow of Argentina.”

And you swear you’ve heard this song before, but you can’t seem to remember where.

—-

1996-

After Y/N leaves, her words in the air, Natalie slowly pulls on her clothes. Her arms ache from being shoved into the cold water, from banging the axe through the ice so many times she thought her arm would just be stuck in the motion forever. Then… trying to hold on. And failing.

She can hear the door open, a shuffle that sounds distinctively panicked, and she can’t help but bitterly think that, of course, Lottie has brought something back. Not her. Not when she’s been trying so hard.

She steps outside, still zipping up her jacket, only the find the girls clustered around a frozen Lottie. She’s still alive, but her face is twisted into pain, her palm is cut, and she’s turning blue.

No food in sight. But Natalie can’t even bring herself to care.

“Get her back here,” she says, her voice hoarse. Y/N turns around from where she was kneeling in front of Lottie. “We can get her to the tub.”

Y/N looks at her for a moment longer before nodding, getting to her feet, dragging Lottie up with her.

“Come on, let’s get her back there,” Shauna encourages, and Natalie just watches as they all practically drag Lottie to the back, help her get undressed, take a small step into the still-hot tub.

“It’s gonna get better,” Nat says, because she knows the cold Lottie’s feeling right now. She looks up towards Y/N, in the doorway, Lottie’s clothes bundled up in her hands.

Mari and Akilah wait behind her, anxiously looking in on Lottie, and after a moment, Y/N takes a step back.

“Let them have a minute,” she says to Lottie’s followers, and Nat heard the door click shut as she grabs a strip of cloth to wrap around Lottie’s bleeding palm.

She sits at the stool next to the tub, and Lottie holds her hand out, the blood mostly washed away by now.

It’s hard to find her voice. But she’s changed in the wilderness. She’s always been able to speak her mind, call out someone on their shit, but it’s hard to admit that she was the stupid one.

And if they’re going to survive out here, at least for a little longer, they all need to change. And it seems stupid, but they need to be a team.

“This is all my fault.” She wraps the cloth around her cut. “I’m really sorry.”

“Good game,” Lottie says, still shaking slightly. “You fucking loser,” she smiles.

“You talking shit?” Natalie can’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “You little bitch. You ended up with nil. Same as me.”

She lets Lottie’s hand fall, the bandage wrapped tightly around her palm.

“But, fine.”

She sticks out her hand. “Good game.”

Lottie looks up at her and grabs her hand.

—-

These nights, the simple ones, when you can just sit next to the fire and rest your head on Natalie’s shoulder are the easiest.

Doing nothing never hurt anyone.

“Nat,” you murmur, and the cabin is quiet enough that even your whisper seems too loud. “You know… you know that it’s not all on you, right? Just ‘cause you’re the best shot and shit? I… I just want you to know that it’s okay if you’re, like, not the best, I guess.”

“Yeah,” she whispers after a moment. “I know.”

“Okay,” you murmur, not sure if you believe her, too tired to pry.

“We’re a team.”

You lift your head up and look at her, and after a moment, she looks away from the fire. Her eyes soften and she smiles at you the way she always does. The way that makes you feel like the entire world is on fire, except for you and her.

You lean forward and kiss her softly, still scared from seeing her in the water, still so inexplicably intwined with her.

You smile against her lips.

The door slams open, too many footsteps, and swears, sounds of disbelief all spill from the girls.

“No. That’s impossible.” You look over at Shauna, and she’s staring at the door.

And when you turn, Javi stands in the doorway like like a scared deer, his eyes wide, wrapped in a blanket, his lips chapped and slightly blue.

“Javi,” you breathe, as everyone gathers around him.

Travis steps forward, and you share a look with Natalie.

“How the hell are you alive?” Travis asks, before bringing his brother into a tight hug.

How is he alive? How did he survive?

You see the look in his eyes.

What did he survive?

When Travis pulls away, Javi doesn’t speak, just stares at him- through him- unmoving.

“Javi,” Travis says softly. “Hey. It’s me. It’s your brother.”

When Javi doesn’t speak, and no one else does, Travis looks away from his brother and towards you and Natalie. You look away, and she stands up, walking to the other side of the cabin, where the light of the fire can’t reach.

“This means Lottie was right,” Mari says, smiling brightly, newfound belief shining through her. “She’s the one who said Javi was alive.”

Lottie looks shocked and slightly horrified.

“Three cheers for Lottie!” Misty shouts. “Hip, hip-”

Everyone glares at her, and her smile falls and her voice trails off.

“Lottie knew he was alive,” Van pants, pointing towards where two people sit, “But Taissa knew where he was.”

“No,” Tai says, a frown on her face, knees pulled up to her chest. Van kneels in front of her.

“No, Taissa. You can’t deny it anymore,” she breathes. “There is something inside of you that is connected to all of this.”

She stares at Van, confused and scared, to Javi and Travis hugging again. Javi still just stares, not speaking, his eyes wide open.

He survived. The cold, the hunger.

But as he stares blankly forward you know something else happened in the woods.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki @happysparklingshadows @zhivaxo @maraudeerrs @karsonromanoff @onlyangel-444 @subastronaut

everything taglist:

@emilynissangtr

#yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader

[seka1-k0k0ro]

Hey its me again ☁️anon

i literally love ur response to my ask and since im horny and unhinged im back at it again~

Dumbification and dacryphilia + pet play with tsuki (my beloved) that’s all I have to say, go crazy<3

CLOUD ANON!!! i love; okay this took forever bc i LITERALLY went crazy when i read this. i have finished school and i have been travelling around the world as a personal reward but now i am ready for this!!!

judging by your past ask i’m going to assume you want dom tsuki so that’s what i did. also, i headcannon that dom tsuki loves pet play so i’m so excited about this one. also i didn't go super heavy in the pet play, so if you want something more, let me know.

counting stars.

*post time-skip au!*

soft dom!tsukishima kei x sub! gnreader

cw: car sex, pet play, dacryphilia, choking, dumbification, degradation, praise, swearing, hair-pulling, like two slaps, and some sweet fluff in between.

[lower case intended]

the beach was now barren of people and all remained was you tsukishima and the moon. the conversation had fizzled out, and you both fell into a comfortable silence. his head was laid back on the headrest as he stared at you; his eyelashes brushed against his cheeks with every glance towards you. tsukishima could've been looking at you with such admiration, but his features looked so intense you asked,

"is everything okay, kei?" he reached out, cupped your chin and pulled you in for a sweet kiss. you smiled, but he pulled away before you could kiss back. he kissed your right cheek and then your forehead.

"you are the most amazing person i have ever met, and i love you so much." kei feels a warmth in his heart whenever he sees you, any doubt he might have had dissipates because you let him have the confidence he needs regardless of his overthinking ways. he kissed you deeply and you kissed back with as much fevor.

the steam behind your kiss grew and grew. his hand wrapped around your neck, just slightly caressing the skin, which was enough to make your head spin and go fuzzy. his other had travelled down your back and slipped under your shirt. his middle finger trailed up and down your spine, and his teasing made you shiver and your skin goosebump.

you hands one his shoulders fisted his clothing, and you pulled him closer, closing any room between the both of you. your kisses became sloppy, and both of his hands travelled south to knead at your ass.

"kei," you softly moaned.

"tell me what you want, kitten." he kissed down your neck, the sensation heightening your pleasure.

"i need you, please." his soft kisses left you panting, and with each grope of his hands, you gasped.

"get in the back." you peeled off of his lap and moved into the backseat, and he gave your ass a slap as you climbed between the seats.

you hurriedly took your pants off, along with your underthings, and he followed suit. he kissed you again, slipping his arm underneath your shirt. he played with your chest as you let out mewls.

“fuck kitten. i cant get enough of you. so fucking good.” he kissed down your neck, leaving dark hickeys in his wake. he kneeded at your skin, not getting enough of you. he cursed as he reached over the console to grab a condom from the glove box. “i’m gonna fuck so good, you won’t be able to talk.” he tore the wrapper with his teeth, and slipped it on.

he lifted your legs over his shoulders and pushed in. you tipped your head back with a moan as he stretched you out, each thrust going in and out slowly. he leaned down to kiss you and you moaned as he folded you, reaching deeper than he has before.

“so fucking good, kitten. yeah- just lay there and take it for me, hmm?” his hips picked up their pace and they snapped against you. as your moans grew louder, he showed a feline-like smile. he bit his bottom lips with his teeth and looked down to where you were connected. his dick was going deeper and faster and you felt yourself quickly approaching your peak. he slapped your ass as he went faster.

you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head as you reached climax, tsukishima’s pace not once faltering. the car rocked as he kept going even after you finished. “fuck, scream for me kitten. want you to cum all over my dick again.”

you felt your head grow fuzzy, wanting to do anything for him. you wanted him to use your body for his own personal vice. his hand trailed up to neck and he gave a slight squeeze. the heaviness from his hand combined with the rough pace of his dick made your brain go dumb.

you cried out desperate pleas for him not to stop— to let you finish, and he gave your ass a slap with his free hand. he folded you again as his pace faltered ever so slightly. “fucking god, kitten, im so close. i’m gonna cum inside you, and you gonna take every last drop.”

“please! ngh- fuck m, please!” he shut you up with a kiss and you mean into the kiss. he let go for air and started to leave hickeys on your chest and neck.

it was so sudden you barely had time to warn him. “oh fuck- kei! i’m gonna cum!” he felt you get tighter and tighter, and he knew he was a goner. “i’m cumming!!”

the tears pooled in your eyes fell down your cheeks as your orgasm shook every nerve fiber in your body. you sobbed as he slowed down, chasing his own high. he finally pulled out, and he sat on the seat while he pulled you on top of him.

your tongue was slightly peeking past your lips and your eyebrows were furrowed as he wiped your tears. “what a good kitten.” he kneeded at your hips and without warning took your hips to grind on his semi-hard dick. “ready for round two?”

requests always open!

#haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima smut #haikyuu #tsukishima kei #haikyuu smut

[azulera]

The Experiment

Pairing: Emile Smith Rowe x Black Reader

Summary: Emile's kisses require scientific investigation.

Notes: Scavenged this out of my drafts in honor of u21s winning euros 🎉 if only the 1st team could do the same, anyways can u tell how badly i wanna give ESR a k*ss … my yardie … arsepool is real

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the first kiss, in the morning, his lips were still tingly, and you could taste the traces of cool mint toothpaste. He’d rolled from bed before you, up early for treatment, which may have sabotaged things from the start.

“You changed it?”

“Changed what?” He asked from the wardrobe, pulling his training kit top overhead.

“The toothpaste. It was cinnamon before, now it’s mint.”

“We were runnin out.” He shrugged. “But I didn’t mean to wake you. Be back around three later.”

You nodded, trying to shake the sleep from your body. “I probably won’t get out from the lab until six. So may I have another kiss, please? A proper one.”

“Needy girl” Emile tutted, but leaned down to meet you anyway, trying not to smile. You held on, turning his one soft peck into two more, and then holding your mouth to his, muffling his sound of surprise.

“I’ve gotta go, bab— baby, mm–”

“I know, just one — more.” You pulled back, with a deep sigh and Emile’s hand somehow tangled in the back of your sleep scarf. “There. Have a good day.”

When he stepped out the door, gently touching his mouth, you flopped back down on the bed. Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, you opened the notes app, and typed away.

~~~

The drive from the lab to Colney was a quick one, and you caught Emile just before lunch finished. He sat in the passenger seat with a smoothie in hand and questions in his eyes.

“What? I wanted to see you. Ain’t that allowed?”

His face was still frost-bitten from the cold, and his lips were redder than ever as they split around a smirk.

“Yeah. Just weren’t expecting you, is all.”

“Well, here I am. How’s the day going?”

You turned toward him in the seat, tuned in as he began the story of how he'd nutmegged Bukayo twice in the same rondo and then got him again later during five aside. You wrapped a hand behind the back of his neck, rubbing into the tendons as he mentioned his lack of playing time, and the frustrating conversations he’d had with the coaching staff concerning it. The hand moved around to cup his chin, thumb moving over his bottom lip when he’d finished speaking.

“Your lips are still so cold, Emi. Let me warm them up.”

“What?” You had leaned over the center console, bringing your other hand to catch along his cheek. “What do you mean?”

“I’m saying can I kiss you?”

“I mean,” Emile licked his lips, eyes darting around the empty training lot. “I mean, yeah.”

You grinned and leaned in, bringing your mouths together gently. A few brushes of tongue later, things were not so gentle, and you hummed when his hands came to grip around your waist, pulling you towards his lap.

“Hold on, this is mad,” He breathed. “Feel like I’m back in year 11.”

“You were snogging girls in the car in year 11?”

“Nah, no,” He kissed your cheek once, fingers still pressed into your hip. “Never. Was straight on football.”

“Right, whatever you say.” You had released him, and settled back into your seat. “How much time until you need to be back?”

“Like 15 minutes. But under 18s will be on that field right there in like five.”

“Okay,” You snuck one more kiss to the corner of his mouth, then revisited the notes app, while Emile checked his cheeks for lip gloss marks, and tried to regulate his breathing. “Tell me about the nutmeg again?”

~~~

By the time Emile disentangled himself from the final kiss, the fifth of the last five minutes, the twentieth of the day, he had developed some concerns. But they didn’t stop his chest from thumping, or blood from spreading warm through his veins, coloring his cheeks a rose tint that matched his lips. He licked over them once, and your eyes tracked the movement.

“Are you alright, babes? You’re mad … affectionate, today.”

“What you mean?” You questioned, halfhearted, already arcing back in towards his mouth. The wood of the dining chair creaked beneath your combined weight, finished dinner plates catching the overhead light.

“It’s just—“ He took a deep breath, trying to repress the tingles shooting down his spine from your nails along his collarbone. “You been sort of – all over me, innit. All day.”

“It’s a problem, then?” You frowned, your chests still pressed together, and noticing your own face was hot, around your ears and down through to your chest.

“Nah! No! Not at all, I’m just,” You pressed your lips to a spot just under his ear, and then his chin. “I was just sayin. An observation, you know.”

“Well, if you must know, it’s–” Your mind whirred, searching for some explanation beyond ‘I’m kind of obsessed with your lips’ or ‘I might be addicted to kissing you’. “It’s for science. Yeah, it’s all purely empirical. Wanted to know … when the best time to kiss you is– in the morning, afternoon, or night.”

You trailed a line of them along his jaw while you spoke, and felt him shiver.

“For science” he echoed, distracted but thinking back through the events of the day, and your generally nerdy tendencies, and saw how it made sense.

He didn’t, however, answer beyond that, as he was caught up again in the warm slide of your mouth. When he could, he cursed, and let out a shaky breath.

“S’like an experiment, innit.”

“Precisely.”

“So what’s the results?”

“Huh?” You asked, thoughts gone hazy, and bordering on annoyed at the continued gap between your mouth and his.

“The results of your experiment. When’s the best time?”

“Oh, um …” You bit your lip, not wanting to break the heated embrace to find your phone. The answer was simple anyway - all the day’s data pointed to one conclusion. “All the time. It’s always a good time to kiss you.”

Emile laughed, blushing an even darker pink, and sliding his hands up your thighs, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. But what do you think?”

He met your eyes, his baby blues full of amusement, and love, and something more. Then he stood up from the chair, carrying you along with him.

“Think I’ve got an idea for experiment number two.”

#emile smith rowe #emile smith rowe imagine #emile smith rowe fanfiction #emile smith rowe x reader #emile smith rowe x you #footballer x you #footballer x reader #football imagine #football fanfic

[whorekneecentral]

reader giving sugar daddy! jenson a hj and then a bj, because she just did her nails. 💅🏻

bitchhh you already know sugar daddy!jenson paid for and picked out the colour. 

Jenson has dropped you off at the salon, saying he’d pick you up after his errands and for you to go get your nails or hair or both done; whatever you wanted. 

You had already done your toes, baby pink to match the dress you were wearing this weekend and your hands were drying right now. He had timed it perfectly, showing up just as you finished up with your hands. 

You had sent him two colours earlier, asking which he liked. He walks over to you, kissing your head as he stood behind the chair, watching as the woman rubbing the oil into your cuticles. 

Jenson smiles, “I like that.” He nods towards your hands and you smile, nodding. You show him once the woman is done, “cute no?” 

“Very,” he holds your hand as you two follow the woman to the register. 

He pays and leaves a tip for her; you had mentioned on multiple occasions that she was your favourite nail lady. You thank her and you two leave. Jenson’s hand resting on your thigh as he drove back to his place, your hand over top of his and you dragged a nail up and down his hand. 

“Let me see now,” he says, shifting in his seat when he pulls into the driveway. You show him your hand, he holds it up gently as he looks over the intricate design painted onto your nails. “Beautiful.” He smiles. 

“Yeah, it’d look even better wrapped around your cock.” 

The words slip out beside you could stop yourself and you can’t help but laugh. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to say that.” You say between a fit of laughter. 

“No, it’s okay.” He smiles, undoing the button on his jeans. “What are you doing?” You ask him, looking at him clearly confused. 

“You said it'd look cute, go ahead.” He gestures to his lap and you roll your eyes, “you’re not serious.” 

Jenson pulls your hand over, wrapping it around his cock. “I am.” He glances down, “you were right.” 

“So if I say it’d look better in my mouth, does that mean I get you suck you off?” You ask jokingly. 

“Go on baby. Do whatever you want.” 

You laughed, leaning over the centre console. Your hand moved up and down slowly, Jenson leans back in the seat and his arm reaches over, a hand resting on your back as you lean down, your lips wrapping around him. 

He sighs, feeling your tongue slide up the underside of his cock. “Fuck,” he huffs, head back against the seat. 

“Made just for me.” He pulls your hair away from your face as your head bobs up and down, lips wrapped around him. The lipgloss you had on left behind a faint pink mark behind and he smiles, pulling your hair a little tighter and pulling you off of him. 

Jenson’s hand holds your jaw when he kisses you. “Inside, I want to fuck you.” You can’t help the giggle, “okay.” and before you can get out, Jenson kisses you once more. 

#sugar daddy!jenson #jenson button #jenson button smut

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

Hey uh I👉🏻👈🏻 wrote something for ya... Bc I love cathie... And I wanted to gift u something...

Low-key am not sure if it's good and I'm a bit scared to make Ruthie too ooc but I did my best😔🙏🏻 hope you can enjoy<33

Also I just realized this looks like a first kiss fic when u clearly mentioned how u wanted their first kiss to be so UHHH– THINK THIS IS LIKE AN AU OR SOMETHING OK😭 sorry about that😔

•••

Cater and Ruthie's relationship was… weird. Not in a bad way, it's just– they were in their first few weeks as a couple, not much have changed from when they were friends... but now there was an urge to just be romantic and Ruthie felt pressured to be more like that... But she didn't know how.

Listen, Ruthie had lived her life surrounded by love, but never in love. It was strange. She knew rationally what people did in relationships, how they acted, but it was so… foreign. The idea that someone would love her, would want to do what couples usually do with her. Could someone truly love her? Was she allowed to experience love for herself?

And with someone as wonderful as Cater, nonetheless?

So… she just stood there awkwardly, fidgeting with her hands, looking down, unsure what to do as he walked her back to her house after yet another... date. If you could even call such an awkward hang out as a date.

She didn't know what to do, was it ok to hold his hand? And after they arrive at her house, what could she possibly do? Usually she would tell others to give their partner a kiss on the cheek as a goodbye… but was that something she should do? Would Cater be comfortable with such a thing? Maybe–

“Woah there!” Cater held onto the girl’s wrist, making her bump into him. Her hand on his chest and face looking at his eyes in confusion and shock. They both went red and Ruthie retreated embarrassed, holding her face in her hands. Cater cleared his throat, looking away. “You almost hit the wall.”

“The wall?” She repeated, a bit confused. She looked ahead and realized she was finally home… she didn't even notice, she was so stuck in her own head. “Oh. Right, we’re here…”

“We sure are.” He said, scratching his neck, his body weight moving from one foot to another. “Hey, before you get inside… I gotta know, are you ok, Ruthie?”

“Wha– yeah, of course.” She lied. Unfortunately for her Cater was a pro at seeing when people were hiding their true feelings.

“You can be honest with me, you know that, right?” He walked towards her, holding her hands gently as he tilted his head to get a better look at her face. “What is it?”

Ruthie looked into his eyes for a brief moment before she felt her face getting warm and she was forced to look down. She stared at their hands locked with each other, how much care she felt with the way he held her hands… she didn't deserve him, did she?

“Are you– are you not happy with our rela–”

“Never even think about that!” The blonde rushed to get that thought of his to perish, her voice way too loud. She put a hand to her mouth as Cater chuckled. Goodness, she had no self restraint, had she? “I mean… no, no I'm happy with our relationship, it's just…”

How could she even begin to explain herself?

“Go on.” He looked at her, encouraging her, and Ruthie melted in his gaze, a small smile showing on her face.

“I just… I'm not really used to this, it’s all so new…” she sighed. “I feel like... it's like I'm doing everything wrong…”

“What? Of course not, that's so silly of you!” Cater let out a small laugh that made Ruthie's stomach fill with butterflies. He cupped her face in his hand, a shy smile on his face. "Ruthie, you're the best girlfriend I could ever hope for." She tried to deny it, but he didn't give her a chance to speak. “If it's any consolation… I also think I'm being terrible at this boyfriend thing.”

Ruthie shook her head, holding his wrists and leaning her face in his hand. The ginger swore she could be able to hear his heartbeat with how loud his heart was pounding.

“No, you're wonderful. Trust me, you… you just make me so happy.”

With that, there was silence. Neither of them dared to speak as they simply stared at each other, their hearts going a mile per second and their faces growing red. Ruthie felt the need to look away, but she forced herself not to… Cater reassured her that she was fine, and he was having the same issues as her… so… she guessed it wasn't wrong to be awkward, right?

As long as their attitudes were from the heart.

With that, Ruthie moved closer to his face, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. It was so fast their lips barely touched, but the feeling was still there. His lips were softer and warmer than she imagined.

“Ok, bye!”

And just like that, she ran away. Despite Cater’s calls for her name she quickly unlocked her door and got inside, sitting on the floor and holding her face. She squealed as she kicked the ground happily, she did it! She did something romantic, this was progress!! See? She could do it!!

And his expression… he looked at her with so shock, but with so much adoration… Ruthie couldn't help but smile foolishly as she continued to squeal silently to not bother her neighbors.

She just hoped he liked it too…

•••

“There you are, how was your–” Riddle began before stopping mid sentence, looking at the boy up and down. “Cater, why are you so red–”

“GoodtoseeyoutooRiddlegoodnight!”

And the boy ran away.

Hello Mah! ☆

AHHHHHHH MAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! ♡♡♡♡♡

I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WROTE A CATHIE FIC??? FOR ME??!! OH MY GOSH IT'S SO CUTE!! ♡♡♡♡ (I'm gonna cry, ahhhhh!!)

THIS IS SO INCREDIBLY SWEET OF YOU!! ♡ THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! ♡♡♡♡♡

AHHHHH MY HEART!! ♡♡♡♡♡♡ CATHIE!!!! ♡♡♡

YOU DID SO WELL WRITING RUTHIE TOO!!! ♡ (She is a bit OOC here, but it doesn't matter lol This fic is sooooo good and so so cute, I'd love it no matter what!!!! ♡♡♡ Especially since you took the time and care to write it for me ♡)

AND UGHHHHH MY HEART, CATER!! I adored him in this fic!! ♡ So good!! ♡♡♡

I LOVE THIS!!! ♡♡♡♡♡

THANK YOU SO MUCH MAH!! ♡♡♡

Truly, thank you!! I'm going to cherish this (and reread it constantly) ♡♡♡♡♡♡

Thank you! ♡

#♡.sheep answers #♡.mah #♡.twst oc #♡.ruthie #♡.cathie #i love this so much ♡♡♡ #thank you so much mah!! ♡♡♡ #cathie my beloved ♡

[kyungjuner]

YOU WRITE FOR NINE.I??? ILYSM could you write some cute cuddle scenarios with some of the members please?

hi lovie!! i do write for ninei my boys <3 and yes for sure :D i just picked a random four i’m sorry i’ll do the other boys sometime 🫡

cuddles with nine.i (seowon , eden , jewon , jiho)

cuddling with jewon was something you’d want to do all day, if you could. he always looks up at you with a warm smile when you walk towards him, whether he’s seated on the couch or the bed, he will most definitely make sure you have a place right next to him. “hi baby” he said with his arm motioning you towards him. “hi, jewon. how did your day go?” you said back as you sat down next to him on your shared bed, his hand coming over your waist out of instinct. “mm, it went well. nothing interesting. what about you?” he moved the question over to you, his hand drawing small patterns across the side of your waist as you leaned your head back into his chest, the both of you smiling at the contact. you loved days like this, coming home to jewon and feeling nothing but love.

cuddles with jiho on the other hand, are always so goofy. you guys were playing a game together on his precious console, laughing because jiho did, not to your surprise, lose against you again. “ah~ y/nnn~ you’re too good at this!!” he sighed in frustration as you let out a giggle, ruffling the sweet boys hair as you leaned into his frame. “maybe you’re just bad at this game ji” “am not!” he backed up in shock, you turning your head to him and laughing at the shocked expression that was on his little face. “ji, i was kidding!” you said as you hugged the precious boy, his head buried in your neck leaving small pecks. “whatever… you’re so lucky i love you…” he spoke against your neck as he hugged you back, and the two of you stayed in that position until you decided to game again (spoiler: you let him win the next few rounds for kiss rewards <3)

now cuddling seowon? that was something otherworldly. he was just so warm?? and soft?? and gives the best hugs??? there is comfort and love radiating off of him :( he can sense you’re stressed when you come home, he wasn’t in your sight yet but he knew you were upset. “oh my love, come here” you hear him beckon you to your shared room, falling into his arms as soon as you set your stuff down. he hugged you tight, one of his hands patting your head which was tucked into his neck. tears filled your eyes as the stress from your day hit you like a truck, and all seowon did was hold you and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. “my love you’re okay now, yeah? you’re with me. i love you so much and always.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper as you looked up at him with teary eyes. “i love you won.” you said as you kissed his lips lightly. “i love you too, y/n. more than anyone.”

i feel like cuddles with eden are something so normal with him :’’ he would take any chance to hug you and stay stuck to your side, like a lost puppy. it seemed that any time, and i mean any time eden was near you, he would be hugging you. he just loves being close to you and kissing your face. “my love, do you not want to get up?” you asked him as your sides were caressed by his soft hands. “mm, nope. i like it here. i like you and i like being with you.” he smiled down at you, just sitting in silence with his hands on you made his day.

#kyungjuner writes #nine.i #nine.i imagines #nine.i headcannons #nine.i soft hours #nine.i x reader #ninei imagines #seowon #jiho #eden #jewon #boys planet seowon #boys planet imagines #nine.i fics

[whydoyouwantmyname]

Imagine life with Sam as your best friend (Part 3)

Masterlist

-Sam has a drawer in his dresser that he filled with new clothes for you, and surprised you with it one day. 

“What is this?” You asked, picking up one of the hoodies he had bought you.

“Figured just in case you spilled something on your clothes, this way you don’t have to walk all the way back to your place to change.”

“Thanks Sam.” You smiled before putting it back.

-You couldn’t help but laugh when you were looking through the pile of clothes he had bought, and you found a shirt similar to his Air Force shirt, but in your size.

-You were in Sam’s apartment when you found out you got accepted into the Spring Master’s program, and it was Friday, so instead of going to the original fast food restaurant he wanted to take you to he decided to take you to a nicer restaurant again, and looked at you as you ordered the chicken Parmesan, with penne and a glass of lemonade. As you finished, and you smiled at him, he let it slip, “God you are beautiful.” 

“Thanks.” You replied, raising an eyebrow, “you look pretty beautiful too.”

“Thanks.” He replied, before clearing his throat, “So… when do you start?”

-The next morning when you were at his apartment he tried to start up the gaming console, but it won’t turn on. He frustratingly let out a sigh, and when you asked what was wrong he sighed, “It is dead, and now I have to go get a new one on pay day.” He sighed, before looking at you, “Sorry Bardot, we have to put the video game 101 on pause.”

“It’s okay Wilson, I can wait.” You smiled before he leaned down and pecked a kiss on your head, a habit neither of you remembered its origin, but you both like it. 

“I know, but I am going to go shower, you can join me if you want, and then I’m going to go to work, and when I come back, I am going to stop at a rental place, and pick up a horror movie.”

“Of course you are.” You sighed as he advanced towards the bathroom. While he was in there you decided to go to the store while he was at work, and use your father’s money for more than just rent.

-When he left you raced to the store, and had to go to two other stores before you found the upgraded version of the system for him, along with a new game. When you got back to his apartment you spent an hour setting it up, scared to screw it up and break the replacement system. Once it was all ready, you popped in one of the games he was teaching you to play and ran through several rounds.

-When he arrived home, he was greeted by the sounds of the game, confusion filling his head as he looked up to see you playing, and doing really well.

“You fixed it?” He spoke up, your face glued to the screen as you replied, “I got a new one, and a new game, but I figured I would let you try it out.”

“You got a new one?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t accept this, it is too…”

“You deserve it, and besides, you are the only one with a tv.” You replied as he looked at you, wonder in his eyes as you won and turned to him, not missing a beat, “So how is Charlie?”

-The week before you started your masters you had to switch back to working part time, meaning you had a lot of free time, and sadly a lot of mornings off. The first Monday of that week, you dialed up Sam’s number, “Hey do you wanna go to the Smithsonian?”

“Sure. Can it wait until after my run?” 

“Actually can I join you?” You asked, his voice going up slightly as he answered a quick yes.

-After your hour run you both retreated to your bathrooms and showered, before regrouping outside of Baloo, and driving to the museums. You both were having fun just walking beside each other and looking at all of the exhibits, but part of the way through the National Air and Space Museum you froze, your eyes fixed on a family. Sam looked at you, and said, “Hey are you good?” 

“We have to go, right now.” Your voice was slightly panicked as you kept looking at the family, “I need to go.” With that you walked out of the museum quickly

-When Sam followed where your eyes had been fixated before you fled he saw a man and a woman, holding hands, and dressed casually, the woman looked as though she was pregnant. With them stood another man, who was slightly more dressed up. Around the dressed up man stood two children, the one with short hair was looking at the exhibit, while the one with long hair was looking at her phone. Around them two other small children were racing around, the casually dressed couple trying to keep the running children close to them as they ran in circles. To Sam they were just a nameless family, but to you, that was Jonathan, and Christofer, and Tiffany, and Connie, and Samuel, and who you could only assume were Tiffany and Christofer’s children. They were the only people who would know that you were Stephen Strange’s missing daughter, who came up in every news report that was ever reported about your father, and because of that, they were the threat to your perfect life.

-When Sam made it to Baloo, you were inside the car, your head resting on the steering wheel as your arms were wrapped around your head, Sam slowly opened the door, and took a seat beside you, once inside he heard your muffled sniffles, clearly a result of you crying. He slowly reached out and gently touched your back, causing you to slowly sit up, and wipe your eyes, “So where do you want to go next?”

“So we aren’t going to talk about that?”

“Talk about what?” 

“Bardot, you just ran out of a Air and Space museum and are now crying in Baloo, so once again I will ask, so we aren’t talking about this?”

You inhaled, and looked at him, “They’re my family, and the ones I was the closest to. When I left, I didn’t tell them I was leaving, and I don’t want anyone to know where I am.”

“Did you leave after your dad…”

“Yeah.” You whispered, as you looked at him, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“It’s okay, we don’t have to. But you have to let me drive Baloo home.”

“Why?”

“Because you shouldn’t operate a vehicle when you're emotional.” He replied, as you swapped seats with him, and let him drive you home. Upon arriving, he parked and guided you out, and onto his couch, before putting a movie in, his arm snaking around your torso as you leaned into his chest, that night as you went to leave he stopped you, “Stay tonight.”

“What?” 

“Yeah, stay the night. You can have the bed, I will sleep on the couch..”

“Why? You can just share the bed with me.” You replied, his eyebrow raising as you slipped your shoes back off, “Well I guess I am going to bed, if you want to join me, feel free, otherwise, I will see you tomorrow.”

-He joined you, however it was a while after you retired to bed, and he entered to see you under his blanket, your shorts beside the bed. As he shrugged off his own clothes, and slipped beneath the covers with you, he found himself lying beside you, his arms laying across the side of your torso as he pulled you closer to his chest, your fingers entangled as you laid there in silence.

-When you awoke you were laying on him, his arm wrapped around you, as your arm was laid across his chest, and your leg between his. As you lifted your head and rested your chin on him, you took in all the details of his face, wishing you had a Polaroid.

-When he finally woke up you weren’t in the bed with him, his heart slightly breaking at the thought that maybe he overstepped his boundaries and scared you away. But then he remembered you worked early on Tuesdays, and got out when he came in for work. As he walked into the living room he noticed that the apartment was cleaner than when he had gone to bed, and the dishes were all cleaned. He chuckled slightly when he noticed that the coffee was set to brew, all he needed to do was turn it on. 

-When you were sitting at the desk, your phone went off. You quickly glanced at the screen and smiled at Sam’s text,

             Thank you for doing the dishes, see you when I come into work.

-When he came into work, he noticed Charlie was standing at the desk, chatting your ear off. He approached Charlie and clapped his shoulder, “Morning Charlie.”

“It is 3 in the afternoon son, morning has come and gone.” He replied, as Sam extended his arm over the counter and carefully placed your coffee down on the counter.

“Well time flies when you are having fun. Are you ready for group later?”

“Course Sam, but first we must discuss something.”

“Of course, what’s up?”

“Privately.” Charlie replied, before looking at you, your new coffee to your lips as he nodded his head towards you, “I will see you later my dear.”

“Go easy on him Charlie, I can’t play therapist tonight if you hurt his delicate feelings.”

-You knew Charlie was going to lecture him on not having asked you out yet, just like he lectured you moments ago on not making the second move yet.

-When you finished that night, Sam came to the desk, “Hey, want to sit in on the meeting tonight?”

“Sorry, I can’t tonight, I have to go home and make salsa. But how about tomorrow?” 

“Sounds like a plan.” He replied, before you smiled and walked out, leaving him to stand there and watch you leave.

-That was the first meeting you sat in on lead by Sam, who momentarily was panicked because every meeting the guys would try to tell him to ask you out. However the guys were all on their best behavior.

-The next meeting he thanked all of them for behaving, and then smiled as Eric announced, “You should invite her more often.”

-Once a week you would sit in on a meeting, and occasionally you would also add your two cents into a conversation.

-The night before your first day, Sam wanted you to stay the night, which was something you had done every night that week. “As tempting as that is Wilson, I have to get up early tomorrow for class. But I will see you tomorrow night, okay?”

“Okay.” He answered, a bit bummed that he would have to sleep in an empty bed for the first time in a week.

-It felt foreign to you to sleep in your own apartment, which you never expected to feel after a week of sleeping in Sam’s bed.

-The next morning you woke up, and threw on a pair of  dark wash jeans, a black spaghetti strap tank top, and a maroon zip up hoodie. Your feet slipped with ease into your no show pizza socks and your black high top converse. You brushed on your makeup effortlessly, and slid your light nude lipstick on in seconds. Grabbing your backpack that had been packed all week, you exited your apartment. Opening the door to the spring air, you took a deep breathe before starting down your steps. However before you reached the bottom, you stopped at the sound, “Wow, I don’t even get a good morning?”

-Looking to your side, you saw Sam leaning on the ledge of the stairs, two coffees in his hand as he smiled at you. Pushing off the ledge he started down his own stairs and extended a coffee toward you.

“How long have you been out here?” You asked, the coffee cup was cold in your hand.

“Since 6.”

“Sam, it is 9:30.”

“I know, I couldn’t sleep anyway, and after my run, I figured you might want a coffee before class.” 

“So for the past three and a half hours, you have just been sitting on your stairs waiting for me?”

“You make it sound like an insane thing to do.” He replied was a smile, and you started the chuckle, thinking in your head that what he was saying sounded completely bonkers.

“I mean if you were really that bored, you could have just come up to my place.”

“[Y/N], I don’t even know which apartment is yours.” He stated, this caused you to momentarily pause, for you had known Sam for almost a year, and in that year he had never been to your apartment. 

“Well… do you want to come over tonight maybe, you can help me study after work.” You offered

“Will you be cooking?” He asked, quoting the question you always seemed to ask him when he invited you over.

“For you sweetheart, I would cook everyday.” You quoted back, “I get out at 7.” 

“I’ll be here.”

-You had a lot of fun for your first day of your masters program. Even after a year off, when you walked into the library to kill some time between Principles of Neuroscience and Advance Human Behavior, the librarian’s whole face lit up, “Just the girl I have been longing to see! You will never guess what we just got today?”

“Good to see you Jeanie. Now what marvelous book have you received today?”

“Well it seems your favorite neurosurgeon has released a new study on hemangioblastoma, and it just arrived today.” 

“Oh how exciting.” You smiled as she extended the booklet towards you, “I’ll go give it a go, and check it out before I…”

“Oh no dearie, I got that copy just for you, think of it as a welcome back present.” 

“Well thank you Jeanie.” You smiled before taking the booklet and retreating to Baloo, where you began reading the words your father had written.

-When you arrived at work, Melody was smirking, “You just missed your boyfriend, he left you your usual on the desk.”

“Oh darn, well seeing how my boyfriend doesn’t exist, I guess I didn’t miss much.” 

-Melody just scolded, before saying, “Well I wish I had friends who would bring me coffee as often as Sam does.” 

-When you left work, you went straight to the store. Since you always ate at Sam's, all you had in your refrigerator was a few overripe strawberries, some probably rotting blueberries, and a bottle of unopened pink lemonade. Your cupboards only had a few spices in them, tea bags, and some honey. Into the cart you threw the essentials to make a salad, a box of elbow noodles, some peas, a block of cheddar cheese, a tub of butter, and a small carton of milk, and a package of chicken breast.

-As you checked out your phone came to life in your pocket, and looking at the ID you saw Sam’s name, “Yes Sam?”

“You’re late.” He replied, a sense of panic slightly in his voice

“I’m just picking up groceries, see I have this great, extremely handsome, generous neighbor, who always invites me over for dinner every night, and because of that I don’t really have food in my fridge. So I figured I would pick up some groceries, so he didn’t have to eat whatever Darwinism is growing in my fridge.”

-You could have told me, I would have picked some stuff up.” 

“I will be home in five minutes, think you can handle that?”

“No.” He replied, before you hung up and got into your car.

-You were home in 3 minutes, and were greeted by Sam sitting on your steps, his smile lifting as he looked at Baloo.

-He stood right up and walked to your passenger seat, opening the door he quickly collected the groceries, and closed it, as you exited yourself, “Need any help there Wilson?”

“Nope, just need you to show me the way.” He smiled as you locked Baloo, and started up the stairs towards B7.

-When you unlocked the door and went inside Sam hesitated, before following you in. He took in the extremely small space you called home, and immediately spoke, “Well now I see why you don’t have a television.” 

“I mean I just find it distr…”

“Pack up your stuff.”

“What?” Surprise evident in your voice

“Yeah, pack up your stuff, you are moving into my spare room, tonight.” 

“And I don’t have a say in the matter?”

“Bardot, I will not sit back and let my best friend live in a walk-in closet. Now I am going to go put the groceries away in our refrigerator, and I will be back in ten minutes to help you pack, understand?”

“And what about my landlord?” 

“We’ll call him in the morning and tell him that you are no longer living…”

“In the walk in closet I have called home for almost two years.” 

“Exactly.” 

-You had never seen Sam be so pushy about something before, and just as he promised he returned in ten minutes and carried your suitcase into his spare room, as you followed behind with your makeup bag, and books. When he put it down, he turned and said, “Here, I’ll carry the last of the magazines and books down, you just… make yourself at home.”

“Okay.” You answered, extending the key towards him as he snatched it up.

-The next morning you called your landlord and told him you were vacating the apartment, and left everything just how you had found it when you moved in. 

-While you were at your classes, Sam spent the morning finding the perfect bookshelf to go in your room, and built the whole thing before his shift. 

-You were so excited when you saw that you now had a space for all your books and science magazines. Sam even offered to help you put all of them away, which led to him asking a question you never wanted to answer, “So Bardot, why do you have so many studies written by Dr. Stephen V. Strange?”

“What?” 

“Yeah, you have like a whole stack, some of these go all the way back to 1991. Is he like your ideal boyfriend or something?”

“Never.” You replied, “He is just a brilliant neurosurgeon, that’s all.”

“And Bessie Coleman was a brilliant aviator, yet you don’t see me plastering her poster in my room.” 

“Just drop it okay.” You replied.

-He never brought it up again. 

-He also started driving you to work on the days you didn’t have class, which you never understood, but you never asked him why. 

-He thought it was really cute how you always sat on the couch with your legs curled up under you, textbook resting on your knee as you read over the assigned passages. He would stand at the counter and watch your nose scrunch up as you read over certain passages, or chew the end of your pen as you focused. 

-He always made you tea at night as well, and would sit next to you on the couch, his own book in hand as he read in silence. The first evening it occurred however you looked at him and smiled, “I didn’t know you knew how to read?”

-When you were done with the spring semester he was overjoyed, thinking that now you and him could go on a short summer vacation. However the day after the semester ended, he saw you walk out of your room with your backpack, “Where are you going?” 

“I have advanced fundamentals of neuropsychology, the class starts today.”

“But it is your summer vacation?”

“And it is a summer course.” Your eyebrow raised

“But it is your…”

“I have to go, or I’ll be late. See you later.” You replied, Sam slumping over as you closed the door, “So much for a summer road trip.”

-Melody always asked you when you were finally going to admit you had feelings for Sam, to which you always replied, “You are almost as bad as Charlie.” 

-For your 20th birthday all you wanted was to stay inside, and have a Lord of the Ring: Extended Edition Marathon. Sam was more than happy to accommodate that request. When you got home from work, you both popped popcorn and stayed up all night watching all the movies. 

-When you went into work the next day, you were both exhausted, and after you got home you fell asleep on the couch. Sam arrived a few hours after you, and when he saw you on the couch, he couldn’t help but take a picture of you. He made it the wallpaper of his phone.

-One Saturday he came home, to find you watching a documentary on Sociopaths, his keys hitting the key bowl you had purchased a week after living there. As he entered the living room and stood behind the couch, he saw that you had a notebook open, and were actively taking notes while watching. 

“Why are you so fascinated with sociopaths?” He asked, causing you to jump slightly in surprise, turning your head to look at him all you said was, “I need to put a frickin bell on you.” 

“You didn’t answer the question.” He replied, as you exhaled, “I am not fascinated.” 

“You have just as many books on sociopaths as you do studies by that doctor idol of yours.”

“I just think it is an interesting topic, especially since I lived with an undiagnosed one for years.” 

“You think your father was a sociopath?” He asked, shocked that you even brought up your father. 

“I mean he was never technically diagnosed, so I can not say with confidence he was one, but he demonstrated many of the characteristics.” You replied, flipping to the front of the notebook, “He found it very difficult to form relationships with those close to him, he was very egotistical, and drove many people away. He also felt no remorse towards the people he emotionally damaged, or pushed away, and I am sure in his work environment he had a habit of belittling coworkers, and being hostile when others question his decisions. He also could demonstrate extremely manipulative behavior, and was very good at twisting the picture to paint a narrative that fit along with his story, and he would use money to try to manipulate people to appreciate him.”

“Sounds like a real ass.” Sam replied, listening to you rant about your father, as you looked from your notes to him, “He was.” 

-One night while watching a movie you ended up falling asleep on Sam’s shoulder, his arm draped over your shoulder. As you rested he started flipping through the channels, however he stopped when something on the news caught his attention.

“Tickets are now on sale Kelly, along with a release of the guest speakers. We are very excited to announce though that the headline speaker is Dr. Stephen V. Strange.”

“Has he released his topic of discussion yet?”

“Not yet. However I am sure it will be as riveting as all of his speeches have been over the past decade.”

-He bought you both tickets the next day. He also went out and bought you a formal, floor length, strapless, royal blue dress, along with silver heels. 

-He put all the items in a box, and left it sitting on the counter. When he got to work and saw you at the desk, he smiled and handed you your coffee, “I left you a present on the counter, but you can’t open it until I get home.”

“Fine, but if it is in my counter space, I will move it.” 

-When he got back, he saw that you had made a large salad, and could smell the burgers, a smile on his face as he noticed you standing by the stove, wearing one of his shirts that had accidentally made its way into your laundry. 

At the sound of his keys hitting the bowl you piped up, “I moved your package to the dining room table, and I must say, I am surprised at how light it is.”

-When you were both done eating he smiled ear to ear, excited to surprise you. “Alright, time to open your gift.”

-You smiled at how excited he was to give you something, “You know you didn’t need to do this.” 

“I know, but you deserve something nice every now and then, especially since you are juggling school and work, and taking care of me.” 

-When you opened the box you saw the dress, and your mouth gasped open, pulling it out you stated, “Sam, this is gorgeous.” 

“There’s more.” He stated, taking the dress from you as you looked in and pulled out the heels, and the envelope they were placed on.

“What, did one of the guys find a girl, and now we are invited to the wedding?”

“Just open it and see.” 

-When you opened the envelope, you were smiling wide, and excited to see the contents, hoping secretly it was a romantic date or a weekend trip. As you pulled out the tickets though, and read the bold letters your smile slightly dropped, “You got us tickets to go listen to Stephen Strange speak?” 

“Yeah, I figured since you loved his work so much, you would like to maybe meet him.”

“Thank you Sam.” You whispered

“I thought you would be more excited.” His voice sounded a bit defeated, and you immediately replied, “I am, I am just processing.” 

-When you went to your room later that night, your back leaned against the door as you slowly slid to the floor, tears slowly sliding down your face as you were faced with the dilemma you never thought you would have to face.

-The night of the event, you stood in your room and put your hair into a decorated updo, which was a hairstyle you never wore when living with your father. You decorated your ears and neck with simple jewels, and brushed your checks with a simmer, hoping it completed the rest of your makeup look. Looking in your full length mirror you flattened the fabric of the skirt with your hands after slipping into the heels. After a light misting of a bath and body perfume you gave yourself a final look over, and were focusing all your energy on not vomiting. Grabbing your purse you opened your door and walked into the common area, to see Sam facing away from you, his frame decorated with a deep, navy blue suit. You couldn’t help but smile as you spoke, “Are you in the Air Force? Cause you're hotter than the engine of an F-22A Raptor.”

-When he turned around, all he could do was whisper, “Wow.”

-You both drove to the venue in Dagger, in complete silence. Your head clouded with the fear of seeing your father for the first time since 2008.

-Entering the venue was a breeze, Sam raced around Dagger and extended an arm to you after he opened your door, his smile bringing some ease to your mind as he led you inside. Upon entering a doorman escorted you to your table, and suddenly the dread returned as he led you both towards the front. As soon as he left Sam smiled, “I hope you don’t mind, I pulled some strings to get you the best view.” 

“I see, thank you.” You faked a smile before continuing, “I have to use the lady’s room however, I’ll be back in a pinch.” 

-As soon as you entered the bathroom, you fled to the stall and emptied what little contents was in your stomach. After several moments of not heaving you made your way to the sink, and pulled an emergency pink lipstick out of your bra to fix your lips. Taking a deep breath you also popped a stick of gum into your mouth that you had stored in your bra, and took a deep breath before exiting the bathroom, and looked up to see your worst nightmare.

-Walking towards the men’s room was a man with black, slicked back hair, a slight curl to it, his chiseled face turned towards a woman in a pantsuit, carrying a clipboard, and chattering his ear off. You could only imagine this was Katherine, who had been his assistant since you were born. His long frame was covered with a freshly pressed suit, a black tie hung in front of his white button down. As he walked he fiddled with his cuff pins, and you could see the new, shiny black watch on his wrist. It didn’t surprise you. Suddenly he looked away from Katherine, and his greenish blue eyes met yours, the golden ring around his iris glittered in the light as he looked at you for longer than would be socially acceptable. Your breathe hitched as you feared you were had, but Katherine quickly snapped, “Excuse me.” 

-That’s when you noticed you were in the way of their path, and quickly moved aside, your feet carrying you back to Sam.

-At the end of the gala you stood beside Sam, sipping a mocktail as he mingled with the people you shared a table with, your eyes darting around as you tried to locate your father, who you were still fearful would approach you. For he had to know at just that glance you were his daughter, any good father would. But he never approached you, in fact as soon as he finished his speech, he was escorted out to his town car.

-On the way home, Sam took your hand and held it the whole way. His thumb occasionally rubbed against the back of your hand, as you stared out the window. 

-When you arrived home, you both pulled a pint of ice cream out of the freezer, and got spoons. You sat on the counter, as he stood opposite of you, his tie undone, and vest unbuttoned, as you both shoveled ice cream into your mouth. Half way through though you looked at him, and put your pint down for a moment, “Do you remember what we talked about the night you took me to Fiola?”

“Yeah.” He replied, before putting his spoon into his mouth.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too Bardot.” 

“No, like I am in love with you. I mean look at everything you do for me, Sam I have never met a single person in my life who would go to a gala like that with me, just because they knew I liked the main speaker. You moved me in with you, you cook for me, make me coffee, and bring it to work every day. You put up with my studies and never once have you complained about anything I have done. You are by far, one of the best people I know.”

-He just looked at you in silence, which was breaking your heart slowly, fearing that he didn’t feel the same. However he quickly put his own ice cream down and walked forward before slowly kissing you. As he pulled away he whispered, “I have wanted to do that since Fiola.”

- The next day he was insistent on taking you to Steak n’ Shake, and as soon as your cherry lime sodas came out he looked at you, and seriously stated , “I love you.”

-The day after the gala you went into work and smiled at Charlie. “So how was the speech?”

“How did you know….”

“Sam told us. I’m just proud he made the millionth first move finally.”

“Well it worked.” You replied as he smiled wide, “Just don’t tell him I told you, he said he wanted to be the one to tell you all tonight at group.” 

“Your secret is safe with me, Mrs. Wilson.” He replied, the name causing you to chuckle as you sat down at the desk 

-Dating Sam wasn’t much different then how your life was before dating him. You both still had your traditions, and before you were basically at his house everyday. The only thing that changed was now you just kissed…. a lot.

-Melody was over the moon when she found out you and Sam were dating.

-A week later you and Sam were on the couch, your head was laying on his lap as you read your textbook, Sam was aimlessly flipping through channels, but stopped at the sight of the interview, “So tell me Strange, and I am sure you don’t like thinking about this topic, but we have to ask, have you heard anything from [Y/N]?”

-Your head turned, full attention on the television as the camera panned to his face, his face dropping as he looked at the interviewer, “Honestly, I have no idea why people find this story so interesting. When I was 18 I left home, and you didn’t see my parents getting interviewed about it on a daily basis.”

“Well this is true, but the way she just vanished is the part that is, for lack of a better word, strange.”

“Is it?”

“So you truly haven’t seen her, or heard from her?” 

“No.”

“Well to most people that is strange.” 

“She made her decision, and clearly in her exit she showed just how ungrateful she is, so I would rather not hear from her, or discuss the issue any further.” 

-You put your book down and walked into the bathroom, Sam not questioning as you closed the door, and leaned your head back on the door, as the tears refused to fall. 

Masterlist

#marvel one shot #marvel oneshots #marvel one shots #marvel oneshot #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson imagines #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson oneshot #sam wilson one shots #sam wilson oneshots #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson fanfiction

[will-die-without-chai]

A/N: This may or may not be based on real events. I didn't know how to vent and then I wrote this. So I don't know if it makes any ounce of sense. Also I have linked all the songs so you can enjoy them as well. Enjoy!

-----

Y/N stared outside the window observing the occasional cars speeding past their own. She let out a sigh and took a drag out of her cigarette as the song playing on the stereo of the car changed. It was a beautiful playlist, she would give it that, if only a little unfamiliar. And sad.

 She should’ve called dibs on the aux cord as soon as she entered the car but she was too occupied with other, much more important things back then. 

That had led to this moment, here, sitting inside a car, pulled over on the side of this road that led to nowhere, surrounded by trees as she blew out clouds of smoke, listening to songs that made her feel things she decidedly did not want to feel. 

She turned her head around a little to look at him and found that he was already looking at her, a strange look on his face. 

She lifted her eyebrows- Kya dekh raha hai? What are you looking at? 

He shrugged in response- Tujhe nahi dikh raha? Figure it out for yourself.

She rolled her eyes.

He started humming along to the song. 

Jaane woh kaise log the jinke pyaar ko pyaar mila

Humne toh jab kaliyan maangi kaaton ka haar mila.

(I wonder at the people who find their love reciprocated

When I prayed for flowers, I was dealt a garland of thorns.)

She scoffed, he stopped singing and closed his eyes. She took another drag just to quell the little twinge of guilt that pricked her heart.

“This is peaceful, pehle kabhi kyu nahi kiya humne ye?” He turned towards her, questioning why they hadn’t done this before. His eyes were still closed, coward and stretched his fingers, asking for the cigarette. 

She wanted to scream.

She handed him the cigarette regardless. 

‘Pehle kab? When in the past should we have done this? When you were busy being an arse? Or when you were being a bitch? Or when you were out there making stupid decisions even after I warned you about them? Or was it when you were breaking my heart?’ she wanted to say. 

But she didn’t. She closed her eyes as well. They were stinging. 

‘Must be the smoke’, she thought. Smoke. Yeah, it has to be.

Hothon se chhu lo tum, mera geet amar kar do

Ban jao meet mere, mera preet amar kar do

(Let my song touch your lips and immortalise it

Please become my lover and immortalise my love)

They sat there silently, music washing over them accompanied by the chirping of birds overhead. It all made her feel drowsy. She did not want to sleep. Really.

“I am sorry.” He said suddenly, his tone held the intensity of a thousand suns.

‘Yeah that’ll do it’, she thought before opening her eyes. 

He was looking at her again, the same weird expression from before adorned his face, maybe mixed in with a little bit of pain and something. She didn't want to dissect it. It won’t do her any good.

“Don’t. Just-” she sighed.

He looked like he was about to cry.

She leaned over the console, closer to him and placed her hand on his arm in hopes of comforting him somehow. 

“Purani baat hai woh, it's in the past, I have forgiven you, isliye idhar tere saath car mai baithi hu. Wouldn't be in the car with you if I hadn't.” 

“I miss you. I miss us.”

She had nothing to say to this. Just rubbed her hand down his arm. She hoped he understood that she couldn't give him more even if she wanted to.

They sat there for god knows how long, just him looking at her from his place in the driver’s seat and her staring out of the windshield at nothing. 

Dhanak ghata kaliyan aur tare sab hain tera roop

Ghazalen hon ya geet hon mere sub mein tera roop

Yunhi chamakti rahe hamesha tere husn ki dhoop

(All these lush valleys, colourful flowers and the twinkling stars are comparable to your looks

Whether it be my poems or my songs, they are meant to pay ode to your beauty

May the sun of your beauty be everlasting.)

“We should get going now.” She broke the silence this time round.

The sun was about to set and it was getting slightly darker. 

He nodded, shook himself out of his stupor and turned the key in the ignition. His eyes always aimed at the street as he drove through them. 

It was her turn to look at him now. And look at him, she did. She stared at how the sun hit the curves and edges of his face, how effortlessly the wind swept his hair upwards in the front, how carelessly his glasses sat on the bridge of his face. 

She looked at the lines of his arm and how his muscles rippled under the skin as his hands moved over the steering wheel. How his watch, the one he inherited from his grandfather, the one which was according to her slightly too big for him but ‘it is exactly how it is supposed to be, Y/N’ according to a very annoyed him dangled from his wrist. 

She missed him too. She really did, whether she wants to accept it or not is an argument she’ll have with herself later.

He turned to look at her and oh. Hopefully she didn't have the same look on her face that he had had earlier in the day.

He lifted his eyebrows- Kya dekh rahi hai? What are you looking at?  

She shrugged in response- Tujhe nahi dikh raha? Figure it out for yourself.

He smiled. 

Abhi na jao chhod kar ke dil abhi bhara nahi

Abhi abhi to aayi ho, abhi abhi to

Abhi abhi to aayi ho, bahar banke chhayi ho

Hawa zara mehak to le, nazar zara behak to le

Yeh shaam dhal to le zara

Yeh shaam dhal to le zara

Yeh dil sambhal to le zara

(Please don’t leave just yet, my heart hasn’t had its fill.

You have just arrived, have just bloomed in like spring.

At least let the air gain your fragrance, at least let my eyes take you in.

At least let the evening set in

At least let my heart have its fill.)

“We are here.” he said and reached across the stereo to turn the music down.

“That was eerily poetic, wasn’t it.” He looked at her, a weird glint in his eyes.

She chuckled. It really was creepily perfect. 

“Wait for a couple more minutes? Dil abhi bhara nahi.” He asked, dramatically grabbing her hands. 

She couldn’t bring herself to deny him this, she had already been too rude to him. So she leaned back in the seat again and turned to look at him while he did the same, her hand closest to him still held in his hand. They just sat there looking at each other and for those couple of moments, everything apart from them and the present faded away. 

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, almost too reverently for her to bear. She closed her eyes and sighed. 

“I should leave now.” 

He let out a shaky sigh. 

“Yeah. Yeah.”

He moved to open his side of the door and she stopped him. She got out of the car on her own and came round to his side. 

“We should do this again sometime.” he said, tentatively, a little hopefully.

“Yeah, maybe. Our little sutta escapade.”

“You should bring chai in a little thermos next time. Then it can be a chai-sutta escapade.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

She stood there for a moment more. 

“Bye.” she said and turned around to walk home. Bye and not her usual see ya.

“Bye,” he hollered. “See ya” he whispered into the car as he reignited the engine. 

#aadi writes #aadi rambles

[softukiyos]

the enemies to lovers project | lee minho

𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵; 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘶, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨'𝘴 𝘱𝘴𝘺𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 -- 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘺, 𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘰, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵. 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: ~18𝘬+

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺!!! 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦! 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘩𝘩 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 >.< 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵! 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥!

prologue.

“You know I despise you, right?”

“Oh, despise. Such a big word, baby,” Minho drawled with an obnoxious smirk, the one that simultaneously made you want to rip his hair out and kiss those perfectly delectable lips of his, “If it's any consolation, I abhor your presence as well.”

“Wonderful,” you crossed your legs, a smile creeping onto your face as you leaned backward in your chair, “So why exactly are you here?”

Minho laughed, “The same reason I presume that you’re here for. A hundred dollars to put up with you is a tempting offer.”

You couldn't help but laugh, and you glanced over at the camera pointed at you and Minho, with your mutual friend, Han Jisung, directing the operation. Right, both you and Minho would receive a hundred dollars if you participated in his little social experiment about love. Of course, he'd wanted the two of you to do it for free, but neither of you would budge unless there was at least a little bit of monetary incentive. You loved Jisung, you really did, but you weren't going to willingly spend time with Minho unless there was something else to gain. 

“Alright, let's get started before the two of you claw at each other's throats like a pair of angry cats,” Jisung clapped his hands together as he stepped out from behind the camera, “I assume the two of you have a basic idea of the experiment?”

“Of course not, Sungie. It's not like you ran through your proposal to me through FaceTime twenty thousand times before presenting it to your professors,” Minho replied with a pleasant smile. 

“And it's not like I read through your written proposal double that amount before you had the courage to hand it in,” you supplied with a similarly saccharine expression. 

Jisung sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers, “Why are the two of you genuinely the nicest people I’ve ever met but somehow turn into demons when you’re together?” He muttered, mostly to himself. 

“It’s not too late to get rid of us and find some other test subjects, Sungie,” you called out with a smile, “We know we’re hard to handle.”

“No way. The two of you are perfect for this project, and I’m not going to let either of you slip out of my fingers after I worked so hard to get you two here,” Jisung refused your offer. Clearing his throat, he decided to begin, not wanting to give either of you more time to get hostile.

“Alright, so you’re both familiar with the basics. The experiment will take about one month, and the data will be recorded in these notebooks,” he said, the camera behind him recording his verbal instructions as he walked forward and handed both you and Minho a small, leather bound notebook, “These will serve as your diaries for the duration of the test.” 

Minho perused through the empty lined pages with a snort, “What are we supposed to do, write our undying confessions on these pages?”

“You’re going to write your honest feelings about each other. And by honest, I mean really do mean honest. Neither of you are ever going to read what the other person writes about you, so you don’t have to worry about your reputation or whatever,” Jisung explained, “I’ll be extrapolating information from your entries and your entries only.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, glancing at Minho as he closed the book and and leaned back in his seat, “So that’s it, right? We date for a month and write down whether we still hate each other after every encounter?”

Jisung threw a weary glare at him, “Theoretically, yes. The purpose of this experiment is to see if the actions of love will foster any actual feelings of love to appear even if there weren’t any in the first place. The two of you will go on dates, leave each other cute notes, anything that you would do with your significant other. And after each of these, you will write down a diary entry about how you feel about that person. At the end of the month, I’ll collect the two notebooks to write my thesis. Any questions?”

You glanced at Minho, who raised a questioning eyebrow at you as if waiting for you to speak first. After a long moment of palpable silence, your lips curved into a smile, “A bold move of you to find the two people least likely to develop feelings for each other, Sungie.”

Jisung dropped his psychology major professionalism for a moment and smirked, “You know I never half-ass anything. So no questions?”

Minho raised his hand obnoxiously, speaking before Jisung even bothered to call on him, “What happens if one of us falls for the other? Do we win something?”

“No, you competitive little shit. No one is winning or losing anything. This experiment is just to document the progression of romantic feelings or lack thereof,” Jisung glared at his best friend, “You’re not trying to prevent yourself from changing your feelings about the person one way or the other, got it?”

But Minho was no longer paying attention to him, his annoyingly beautiful smile now aimed at you across the table, “You’re going to fall in love with me so quickly, Sungie’s little experiment will be over in a week.”

Your competitive edged roared to life at the provocation, and you smirked, flipping the pen around your fingers, “Your diary is going to be filled with love letters to me once I’m through with you.”

“Oh dear,” Jisung groaned to himself as he walked over to shut off the camera, a weary expression visible on his face.

This was going to be a very long month. 

i.

You never once thought there would come a day that you would walk out of your apartment to see Minho waiting for you, nonchalantly leaning against his blood red accented motorcycle and his famous leather jacket.

“What is this?” You asked suspiciously, as if poking at his intentions with a ten foot pole. 

Minho rolled his eyes, “I'm taking you to class? Why else would I have dragged myself out of bed at ass o’clock in the morning?”

“You're taking me to class on this?” You gestured toward the motorcycle with a hint of disdain, but Minho saw right through you, his lips curling in a smug smile.

“There's no need to be scared, baby,” he sauntered towards you and patted your head, “I'll always protect you.”

Scowling, you swatted his hand away, “Don't do that. It's so weird,” you huffed, fixing your hair. 

“You know that's the point of this whole damn thing, right?” Minho said with a hint of annoyance as he felt churlishly irritated by your constant resistance. Did you really hate him that much?

“No, the point is to do these actions in a genuine and heartfelt manner. Everything you say is fake,” you said plainly, looking him straight in the eye.

Minho couldn't help but scoff, “How is it supposed to be genuine when I don't feel anything for you?”

“You start off with basic friendship. That's not as hard, right?” You said as you reached into your large bag and pulled out a container of milk bread, “Here. This is my Day 1 gift for you.”

Minho’s face went slack as he took the container gingerly, treating it like a live explosive, “You made this?”

“Yeah, made two loaves last night,” you answered, surprised by the sudden softness in his tone. Okay, this was awkward, and you couldn't help but cringe as you extended your hand, “If you don't like it, I can take it back—”

“Hell no,” Minho yanked his arms away from yours and pulled the plastic container to his chest defensively, “You gave it to me, so it's mine!”

You blinked in surprise, your hand falling to your side, “I see,” you said before shifting on your heels and nodding, “Okay, I'll see you later, whenever that is,” you took the chance for a quick escape, turning and beginning to walk to class. 

“Wait.”

A gasp left your lips as Minho grabbed your wrist, making you turn back around to face him, “I have a helmet for you, okay? And I'll drive slower,” he muttered, his eyes trained on the floor and darting around anxiously, “I won't get you hurt, I promise." 

You studied him carefully, his tone of voice, his posture, anything that would give away some hidden agenda, but there was none. Looking down at his hand still wrapped around your wrist, you relented, "Alright, I'll go with you." 

Minho nodded, leading you over to his motorcycle and grabbing the extra helmet from behind. Before you could take it from him, he moved it out of your grasp, "Have you ever even used a motorcycle helmet before? If you put it on wrong, it's not going to do you any good," he said snappishly as he adjusted a few of the straps and fitted it onto your head. 

Unconsciously, you held your breath as he leaned towards you, slipping a finger between the strap and your chin before snapping it shut, "It's not too tight, yeah?" he asked as he pulled away, and you could only shake your head mutely, "Good." 

Swinging a leg over, he climbed onto his motorcycle, easily putting his own helmet on before turning to look at you as he pushed up the visor, "Here. Climb on behind me." 

You eyed the motorcycle with a hint of disdain as you approached it, “And what am I supposed to hold onto so I don’t fall to my untimely death?” You asked dryly.

Unfortunately, that was the wrong question to ask, and the gleam apparent in Minho’s eyes told you that, despite his surprising show of kindness, Lee Minho was still Lee Minho, and Lee Minho was a fucking asshole.

“Why, you hold onto me, of course,” he said pleasantly, “Unless, you’d rather fall off the bike and shatter your bones. The other option is to walk, but seeing that it’s almost 8:30 already, you’d probably end up being late.”

Clenching your jaw so hard you were sure it was going to be sore for days, you stalked over to the motorcycle and swung your leg over it, climbing on haphazardly. You’ve seen the movies; you knew how you were supposed to ride a motorcycle from behind, and your arms tentatively wrapped around Minho’s midriff, avoiding as much bodily contact as possible.

Minho snorted, “You know, if you hold on like that, you’re gonna fall off anyways.”

“Mind your own business--fuck!” A squeak left your lips as Minho suddenly revved the engine and the motorcycle lurched forward. Out of pure instinct, your arms tightened around him, and you buried your face in his back. The time could not have been more perfect, and you felt a rush of anger as you realized that he was just messing with you, “Don’t fucking do that!”

The asshole just laughed, “Aw, come on, I wouldn’t have done it for real. But you seriously need to hold on, okay?”

You huffed, scowling underneath the helmet as you kept your arms locked around his waist, begrudgingly learning your lesson, “Just drive.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Minho revved the engine again and started the journey, albeit with a much smoother start as the two of you began to speed down the street and towards the literature building. 

When you arrived at your destination with Minho pulling up right to the front of the building, you were practically squeezing him like a life-sized plushie, your eyes squeezed shut and your face smushed into his leather jacket.

“You can let go now, darling,” he chuckled as he used his foot to push out the kickstand. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, you detached from him like two magnets of the same pole, getting off the motorcycle. 

“I am--” you gasped for breath as you yanked off your helmet, “never doing that again.”

Minho laughed as he took the helmet from you and put it in the container at the back of his bike, “Hey, you’re here with five minutes to spare! If anything, you should be thanking me, sweetheart.”

Your glare was frightening as you finally relented with a huff, “I’m grateful for the ride here, but next time, no motorcycle, please.”

“Next time? Who said anything about a next time?” The boy positively giggled as you realized your mistake. Minho never said anything about a next time! What were you thinking? Now, he probably thought you wanted him to take you to school every morning, which was absolutely not the case!

“Oh, whatever!” You snapped, utterly fed up as you threw up your hands in total exasperation and marched up the staircase without so much as a goodbye. 

Minho’s smug laughter echoed in your ears as you stepped into the building, “Love you too, sweetheart!” 

~

(name): day 1 

action(s): drive to school 

notes: utterly infuriating. an arrogant, smug, flirtatious little shit that thinks he’s the king of the world. he brought his motorcycle out of the blue to pick me up when he knows i flipped out the last time i rode one with jisung (yes, sungie, i am still mad). 

i did get to class early though, because of him, and that’s rare for me. silver linings, i guess.

~

lee minho: day 1 

action(s): drive to school

notes: a stuck up little princess as always, whining and complaining about every little thing that doesn’t go her way. shouldn’t she be happy enough that i came to take her to her class? nope, she just kicked up a fuss about it being a motorcycle. did she think i was going to remember when she had a meltdown riding it last time? (it was funny, sungie, don’t mind her.) i barely got so much of a thank you when i got her to the lit building, early, no less.

the milk bread was good, though. maybe i’ll try to convince her to make me another loaf.

ii. 

First dates were always weird. First dates were even weirder when you were about to go out with your fake-social-experiment boyfriend that you didn’t even like.

What were you supposed to even wear? Were you supposed to dress to impress (not that Minho would ever be impressed with anything you do)? Or were you supposed to dress like you just rolled out of bed? In the end, you opted for something in between the two extremes, hoping that you weren’t going to face the embarrassment of being over or underdressed.

Luckily, Minho didn’t change his daily look too much for the date, opting for a pair of ripped black jeans, a loose t-shirt, and--of course--the leather jacket he never left home without. At this point, you were honestly convinced that Minho was having some sort of romantic relationship with that jacket.

But what was out of the ordinary was the small bouquet of vibrant carnations that he held in one hand as he browsed his phone with the other. They looked wildly out of place in comparison to the rest of his get up, and the contrast was so amusing to you that you couldn’t help but smile as you walked over to him.

“Are those flowers for me?” You asked sweetly, clicking your heels. Minho glanced up from his phone, his eyes darting up and down, and you knew he was assessing your outfit the way you had assessed his. 

“No, these are for my other social experiment girlfriend,” he said with a dry smile, handing them to you, “I heard from Jisung that you hate flowers, so of course I had to get you a bouquet for our special day.”

“Carnations are actually my favorite type of flower, so thank you very much,” you replied, sniffing at the bouquet before glancing around, “Where’s your motorcycle again? In maintenance?”

Minho’s face twitched for a split second before he nodded, “Yeah, I scratched it up real bad. We can just take the bus again.”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion, but you said nothing more about the topic as the two of you walked to the nearest bus stations. After the first day, you had never seen Minho’s motorcycle again despite the fact that he walks you to your class almost every other day (he skips the days when he has work). What was even more suspicious was that he always had an excuse for not bringing it: he crashed it and it needs maintenance, he forgot to fill the gas tank, Jisung was borrowing it, etc. 

They weren’t bad excuses, but it’s been almost a week, and you were beginning to suspect that there was more to the missing motorcycle than he was telling you.

“Who recommended this place?” Minho asked as you took the seat at the station and he leaned against the wall.

“Jisung did, actually,” you laughed a little, pulling out your phone and clicking into the link of the restaurant Jisung had sent you, showing it to Minho.

The boy scrunched his nose with distaste as he glanced at the restaurant images, “Did you really think it was wise to leave our first date in the hands of the man who’s never actually had one successful date before?” 

“He said it was a control variable or whatever,” you said, placing your phone back in your purse, “Besides, I checked the reviews, and most of them only had good things to say. Why? Is this not your ideal first date?”

Minho scoffed, lips curling into a smirk, “I don’t really do first dates, sweetheart.”

“Oh? So what do you do?” You asked with a hint of annoyance clear in your tone, “One night stands?”

The boy shrugged, “Mostly. Why put the effort to try and create something concrete when it’ll fall apart soon enough anyway?”

You couldn’t help but scrunch your nose at his words, once again being hit with the realization that you and Minho were as different as people came, “That’s a rather morbid way of looking at things.”

“It’s realistic and it’s safe. That’s all I really need at this moment,” Minho said shortly as his eyes darted down the street, and he pushed himself off the wall, “The bus is here. Let’s go.”

Without stopping to wait for you, he walked to the edge of the sidewalk as the bus pulled up to greet him. There was nothing you could do but silently follow him, wondering what Minho had gone through to adopt such a cynical mindset about love. 

“What about you?” Minho asked rather suddenly when the two of you had arrived at the restaurant, settled into your table, and were already waiting for your food to arrive. There had been such a long interval of time between the previous conversation and the current one that you didn’t even process the intention of his question for a long moment.

“I’m sorry?”

Minho bit his lip, and he looked like he was regretting the fact that he couldn’t contain his curiosity, “What are your experiences with first dates?” He asked, resting his elbows on the table, “You have had a few, right?”

With a questioning eyebrow, you swirled the small amount of red wine in your glass, “I’m not quite sure whether your question is a genuine one or just another insult.”

“Why can’t it be both?” Minho asked innocently. 

Rolling your eyes, you sipped at your wine before answering, "I've had a few first dates, fewer seconds, and no thirds." 

Minho considered your words, "What went wrong? Clashing personalities? Scheduling conflicts?" 

You scowled, placing down your glass as you grit your teeth, "You're a nosy little shit, aren't you?" 

“Hey,” Minho raised his arms in mock surrender, “if I'm about to be your social experiment boyfriend for a month, I should know what I'm getting into, for my sake and yours.”

Leveling a withered glare at him, you couldn't help but begrudgingly admit that Minho had a point. If the two of you couldn't be honest with each other, this experiment wouldn't work. Like the mastermind had said early on, honesty was a key part of the project. Damn you, Han Jisung. 

“Eventually, every man gets annoyed by the fact that they'll always be second in importance,” you finally spoke as you swirl the wine again, “They say they understand, but in the end, they'll never settle for a woman who puts their passions over their relationships. They want attentiveness, constant coddling, constant affection. They want to be nagged, they want me to be the one that messages first, and I'm just not the type.”

For the first time, Minho’s gaze upon you was devoid of arrogance and that giant defensive wall he’d always had up. His expression had turned almost thoughtful in a way, as if he was really looking at you, really trying to see you for who you were, and you couldn’t help but cringe slightly under his stare, smiling bitterly, “Did I scare you off, too?”

Minho seemed to jolt out of whatever daze he was in, a laugh leaving his lips, “Nah, princess, you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he chuckled, putting down his wine glass as he spoke again, “It’s not your fault that they felt inferior dating someone that was more driven than them. It’s their loss, honestly.”

“Really?” You failed to hide your surprise, not expecting to find support in someone that was so different from you.

“A relationship isn’t supposed to hinder you from doing the things you love. You’re supposed to do them in tandem and support each other during the process,” Minho said, and as you searched for the punchline, for the part of the conversation where Minho would bark out a scathing laugh and point at your disappointed face, you realized there was none. You suddenly had a strange revelation that you may have misjudged the man sitting across from you. 

“If you have such a wise impression about love, why do you never try it out?” You asked softly, studying his expression like always, but you stopped searching for something malicious about him, since the search had been fruitless so far. Now, you were simply curious, slowly trying to learn more about him.

Minho shrugged with a wry smile, “Just because the solution exists in theory doesn't mean it truly exists.” 

"You don't think you'll ever find someone like that?" You asked. 

"Well, if they're out there somewhere, they haven't shown up in my life yet, so..." Minho trailed off, his expression rather nonchalant at first glance, but you were slowly getting better at reading him. He felt wronged, probably by someone in the past that didn't support his endeavors. 

You let the conversation drop as your food finally arrived, and the seriousness of the evening seemed to dissipate as the food took precedence. When the bill was finally paid (the two of you split it after a long discussion), you walked out with your arm looped around Minho's, and despite yourself, you didn't hate it all that much. 

“So, we're gonna beat the shit out of Jisung for forcing us to go to such an expensive restaurant, right?” Minho hummed as the two of you walked back to your apartment. You tried not to focus on the fact that Minho hadn't pulled his arm away, keeping you snug against his side. 

“I like the way you think,” you laughed, your heels clicking against the ground, “Tell you what, how about the next date, you pick somewhere you normally go to in your free time, and I’ll do the same for the date after. That way, we don’t have to spend an atrocious amount of money unless we want to.”

Minho stopped short, and for a minute, you wondered if you’d overstepped his boundaries. Then, he turned to look at you, a surprised, almost soft, smile on his face.

“You want to see me that much?”

It would’ve been so easy to dismiss his words as sarcastic teasing, like the rest of your conversations have been for the past year that you’ve known each other. But his tone, his expression, it felt almost genuine, like he was pleasantly surprised that you were willingly offering up your own time to spend it with him.

And at that notion, your cheeks felt unnaturally hot as you averted your eyes, “Well, the experiment is supposed to last a month,” you mumbled, finding a very interesting divot in the ground, “What type of social experiment girlfriend would I be if we only went on one date?”

Unbeknownst to you, Minho’s smile dimmed ever so slightly at the mention of the experiment, but he still felt that weird, fluttery feeling nonetheless. He knew you were probably just too shy to admit anything truthful to his question, and he didn’t fault you for it. It wasn’t like he was being very honest either.

“Well, I rather enjoy our little escapades, so I suppose I can spare a little effort to plan the next date,” Minho said with faux weariness, making you elbow his side playfully. 

“I swear, if you drag me to another horror house like you did when we went out with Jisung--”

Minho let out a laugh at the memory, “Didn’t you punch the zombie that jumped out near the end?”

“Not a word.”

“And I think you screamed at one of the ghosts, too?”

You frowned, reaching up and messing up his perfectly styled hair, “Not a word!”

Minho didn’t take any of your threats to heart, teasing you relentlessly about that incident all the way back to your apartment, but to be totally honest, you didn’t mind it all that much.

~

(name): day 6

action(s): first date (control)

notes: the date wasn’t bad except for the ridiculous pricing. we actually had rather interesting conversations about our interests, outlooks on life, and had a rather heated argument about whether prisoner of azkaban or the order of the phoenix was the best harry potter book. 

minho’s nice. i know you’re probably laughing at me as you read this, future jisung. but he’s nice. the flowers he got were really pretty. he’s a good listener, too, and he doesn’t give false comforts. he tells it to me as it is, whether it’s good or bad. i like that about him. he also looked really good for the date, but that’s rather surface level, right? whatever. i hope this is even minutely useful to your project, jisung, bcs it doesn’t feel like it’ll be much help.

~

lee minho: day 6 

action(s): first date 

notes: han jisung. the meal was $150 and we both ordered the cheapest things on the menu. fucc you. 

the date was alright, though. (name) actually got dressed up for the date, so i felt a little bad. she’s putting more effort into this project than i thought she would, and i don’t know whether its because she genuinely wants to know me better, or if its bcs it’s your project, jisung. (i know she used to like you, it was obvious). whatever. she’s easy to talk to when we’re not at each other’s throats like usual. she makes me feel understood, which is a good feeling i guess. 

this absolutely does not mean anything special. it just means that she’s not as stuck up as i thought she was. the bar is still incredibly low.

i wonder where i should take her for our next date. the horror house is tempting, but she’s probably going to get sued if she shows her face there ever again. oh well, i’ll figure it out.

iii. 

“Why are we heading towards the direction of the horror house?”

“I promise you, sweetheart, it’s not the horror house,” Minho said for the umpteenth time as the two of you walked down the busy downtown streets together.

You remained suspicious, and as a chill blew towards you, the winter wind seeping into your bones and making your teeth chatter, you brought your hands to your mouth, blowing on them in an attempt to get them warm.

Minho let out a dramatic sigh at the sound of your silence, “Do you have any faith in me at all?” He asked, taking one of your hands and lacing your fingers together before shoving it in his coat pocket without faltering for a moment.

He seemed unfazed, oblivious even as the two of you stopped at a crosswalk, but you...your poor heart did a feeble stutter that certainly wasn’t the product of any social experiment. You knew the feeling well enough from your past experiences, and the fact that it emerged right at this moment made you worry.

“What?” Minho’s voice invaded your thoughts as he followed your line of sight to his coat pocket, where your hand was snugly fitted inside his. 

You tried your best to salvage what was left of your pride, “Aren’t my hands cold?” You asked weakly, “You don’t have to hold them.”

“Yes, your hands are like fucking ice, that’s why I’m trying to warm one of them up, dummy,” Minho rolled his eyes at your lame question before turning to check on the light to make sure it was still on red, “We’re almost there. The place is cozy, I promise.”

Nodding, you slowly felt your composure return to you, “As long as we get out of this cold, I'd consider it a successful date.”

“Oh dear, you've just ruined my plans for a picnic up in the mountains,” Minho said with a deadpan expression just as the light turned green.

“You're ridiculous,” you said, rolling your eyes, but there wasn't any bite behind your words anymore, and Minho’s jabs at you had slowly lost that hard edge to them. Could it be possible that the two of you were really warming up to each other?

It was true that the two of you were getting along better, and in tandem, you began to be more present in each other’s lives. Minho still walked you to school on the days that he didn't have work. In return, it's become a normal routine for you to make two loaves of milk bread every other day since Minho always devoured his portion ridiculous quickly. 

Not in a romantic way, absolutely not. Both of you would cringe at the very idea. But as tolerant friends, maybe. 

“Ah! Here we are,” Minho said pleasantly as he guided you off the busy street into a smaller, quieter alleyway filled with various cafes and antique shops.

“A cafe date?” You smiled, “I didn't know that was your style.”

Minho stopped short at a particular cafe, taking his hand and yours out of his pocket as he reached forward to open the door, “Well, it's not just any cafe.”

You quickly realized exactly what he meant as you walked in, your eyes lighting up with pure elation and joy as you squealed, “It’s a cat cafe!” 

Unbeknownst to you, Minho’s eyes lit up from behind you as he shut the door, keeping the winter cold out of the cozy establishment, “You like cats?” He never knew that about you.

“Like cats? I love them!” You practically gushed as you shrugged off your large coat and Minho signaled for a party of two, greeting a few of the waiters with a suspicious familiarity. 

“Do you come here often?” You asked curiously as the two of you found a nice little corner to sit down in, complete with beanbags, blankets, and little wooden surfaces that were meant to serve as tables.

Minho almost didn't need to answer your question, since the moment he sat down, four cats passed over towards him, the sound of gentle meows filling your ears. You didn't think you'd be able to hear anything more sweet, until you were proven wrong when Minho let out a soft giggle, his expression unbelievably fond as he stretched out his hand, petting their heads and scratching their ears.

When had you ever heard Minho giggle? No, not that psychotic little witch giggle he did when he was feeling diabolical. This childish, almost innocent giggle that burst from his lips. 

“I come here at least twice a week,” he said as one of the kittens clambered into his lap, “I have three cats back at home with my family, and when I miss them, I come here.”

You nodded, surprised that he was divulging information about him without being prompted, but you didn’t mind it one bit, “That’s nice. I’m sure they miss you, too,” you said, smiling as one of the more curious cats went over to you, sniffing at your hand before pressing their head against your palm.

“I’m sure they do. I was basically their servant,” Minho laughed before turning to you, “Do you have pets?”

“Oh, I wish,” your voice was forlorn and wistful as you began to rub the cat’s belly, feeling a rush of pride as they laid on their side. It was rare for any cat to do such a thing, and you treasured the moment dearly, “I had a kitten when I was very, very young, but they died only a few months after we got them. I haven’t been able to muster the courage to adopt another pet since.”

Minho pouted at the way your voice trailed off, your expression faraway, and he suddenly felt an urge to gift you a kitten right then and there just to make you smile. He was long used to seeing you angry, he was getting used to seeing you when you were at peace and smiling, but he’d never actually seen you look so wistfully sad before. 

“Well, you’re always welcome to use my membership card here if you need a break from school,” he offered rather awkwardly, keeping his eyes on the cats so he wouldn’t have to feel the brunt of your expression, which was probably weirded out. 

“You’d let me?” You sounded hopeful, giggling to yourself as a cat jumped into your lap, curling up and burrowing against your stomach.

Minho smiled, turning his head to see the way you were coddling the little kitten, stroking her fur with utmost delicacy and with nothing but pure adoration in your eyes. He was suddenly hit with the realization that you were incredibly beautiful, and his brain almost immediately imploded.

Wait, what? Lee Minho?! Who the fuck are you turning into?!

Unaware of his current struggle, you glanced at him when you didn’t receive an answer, and he scrambled to clear his throat, “O-of course,” he said, “You’d get a 15% discount on drinks. Super handy.” 

If you noticed his strange behavior, you didn't comment or make a face, only gazing down at the kitten in your lap as you asked teasingly,, “Does this girlfriend benefit only last the month?”

It was a joke, not at all different from the ones both of you made on a daily basis, making jabs at your rather intriguing situation, this one seemed to really hit Minho. What was going to happen when the month ends? Will the two of you go back to hating each other and fighting every moment of the day? Will all these little acts of love, the way you would occasionally drop off a bento box at his dance studio and the way he’d pick you up after your late night classes so he could make sure you were safe, would that all disappear like a dream?

“Hello? Earth to Minho?”

Minho blinked out of his daydream, tilting his head towards you to see you already looking at him with a concerned smile, “Are you alright? You seemed pretty faraway.”

“Nah, I’m good. I just remembered that I have a coding assignment due tonight,” he lied, a light tinge of rouge on his cheeks. 

“What?!” you yelped, scaring the cat in your lap as they meowed in discontent, jumping off you, “We should get going then--”

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Minho grabbed your arm as you stood up, and with your balance tilted, you fell back onto the beanbag couch, although this time, you were much closer to Minho than you originally were. To stabilize yourself, your hand jutted out to press against his chest, and his breath hitched in his throat.

What sort of black magic was Han Jisung doing to him with this experiment?

“Sorry!” You squeaked out, your embarrassment clearly visible as you tried to push away from him, but Minho kept you close until the two of you were almost cuddling on the beanbag couch. 

Minho only hummed, feigning nonchalance even as his heart was doing strange backflips in his chest, “It’s fine. You’re still cold, right? I saw you shivering a bit. You can just sit here,” he said, shrugging off his coat and placing it over your legs.

“I guess...thank you,” you said rather quietly, not trusting your voice to hide the emotions that were raging in your heart: the confusion, the giddiness, the childlike excitement, and the fear, “But what about your assignment--”

“Don’t worry,” he patted your head lightly, “It’s just a simple one. Won’t take more than an hour. I’ll just do it when I get home.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure,” Minho emphasized the last word with a teasing smile, his heart slowly coming to terms with these new, tingling emotions that he was feeling, “I never knew I’d ever experience you babying me.”

Your cheeks grew warm as you smacked his arm, “Shut up!” You complained, bringing his coat up to your face and shielding yourself, “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t flunk out of school!”

“Don’t lie, you’ve fallen in love with me, haven’t you?” He asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief only to receive another angry smack on the arm.

“You wish. I don’t fall in love with jerks like you.” 

“If it makes you feel better, I am honored by the attention,” he said with a teasing smile as he nudged your shoulder. 

Another kitten came to your position, rubbing against your thigh as you petted their little head, “You better be,” you muttered almost to yourself, “After all the bentos I’ve made for you this last week.”

Minho let out a yawn, stretching out his arms and very cautiously wrapping one around your shoulders. To his luck or misfortune, you were too enamored by the kitten to notice, and you curled into his side without much consideration. The poor boy wasn’t sure whether he wanted you to notice and confront him about it, or whether he should be allowed to feel a sense of fondness knowing that you were dropping the defensive walls around your heart with him.

He won’t tell you, but he was truly honored to be cared by you, to experience your worry, your encouragement, and your little acts of love. It came so naturally to you that you probably didn’t even hold any of those actions to any significance, but to him, the one who was always the lone wolf, the one who was always defined by his looks before his personality, it was nice to be truly seen by someone. 

Even if it wasn’t going to last. 

iv.

Lee Minho was late, and you were going to kick his ass if you didn't happen to be frozen by the time he arrived. 

You stood outside of the computer science building awkwardly, trying not to focus on the weird glances from the students walking in and out, all of whom were obviously wondering what a literature freak was doing at the center hub of the sciences. It was absolutely mortifying, and you briefly wondered if Minho ever got such stares while he waited for you outside of your building. If he did, well, you felt slightly more grateful than you did previously.

“Hey! (name), right?” 

You looked up with panic in your eyes as you quickly tracked the sound of the voice to one familiar stranger, a particular boy on campus that you never actually ever thought you'd have the opportunity to speak to.

“That's me, and I assume you're Hyunjin,” you said, getting straight past formalities. After all, you weren't really in the mood for chitter-chatter. You were just in the mood for a nice hot chocolate to warm your body. 

But unfortunately for you, Hyunjin’s disarming smile was a clear indicator that there were no escape routes plausible, “Wow, no wonder Minho snatched you up quick.”

If you had a tail, it would've bristled at this very moment, “Excuse me?” You asked, keeping your tone decidedly cordial.

Hyunjin’s smile only widened, “What is he like as a boyfriend? Does he treat you well? Or are you just another piece of disposable garbage for him like every other girl he’s fucked?” 

The final question shouldn't have fazed you, but it did. Why did the idea of such a thing send your heart into cardiac arrest? Why did it scare you so much, when you knew none of this was real? Wasn't it all just manufactured by the conditions of the experiment?

Your face must've given away more than you thought, because Hyunjin’s cheshire-like grin only widened as he took your vulnerability as a chance, “You don't have to be with him, you know. Don't you think we'd get along a little better—”

“Really fucking low of you to be trying to hit on your friend’s girl,” a hand suddenly snaked around your waist from behind, making you gasp as you felt your back pulled against someone's firm chest.

“Especially my girl,” Minho’s eyes showed not a hint of amusement or politeness as he rested his chin on your shoulder almost protectively, as if daring Hyunjin to try again.

Hyunjin regarded the two of you with cautious intrigue, his eyes darting from Minho’s hand on your waist to his face now nuzzled in the crook of your neck, and he lifted his hands up in mock surrender.

“Just wanted to make sure you know how lucky you are,” he smiled at Minho pleasantly, leaning forwards as his eyes sparkled when they met yours. Now, you may dislike Hyunjin, but you couldn't deny his beauty, and at such a distance, you couldn't help but feel a bit flustered as he purred, “And how easily that luck can be taken away from you.”

Minho bared his lips in a threatening snarl from behind you, making Hyunjin scoff as he turned away from the two of you without another word. A moment of tense silence screamed in the air before you cleared your throat awkwardly. This was definitely not a good way to start off a date.

“Well, that was weird,” you laughed, detangling yourself from Minho’s hold so you could face him, “I never thought I’d see the day where Hwang Hyunjin would flirt with me while he’s sober.”

“He’s such a fucking asshole,” Minho suddenly spit out with a surprising amount of vitriol in his tone, enough to fluster you for a moment, “Going after someone who’s obviously dating, he just doesn’t have any shame anymore! Plus, I was literally walking behind you. He definitely saw me before he made a move.”

Finding his behavior utterly bizarre, you stared at him for a long moment before you could even speak, “Are you...pretending to be jealous?”

“What?” Minho blinked, as if suddenly realizing that you were still there witnessing the extent of his ranting. And then, your question hit him like a ton of bricks, “What the fuck? I’m not pretending to be jealous, I--”

He stopped himself before he could do any more verbal damage to his own reputation, but inside, his head in shambles.

I’m not pretending to be jealous, I am jealous. 

What was happening to him?

From the look on your face, Minho could tell you were a mixture of confused and suspicious, but you didn’t press him for more details or to finish his sentence. That was one thing he really appreciated about you. If he didn’t elaborate on his words, you trusted that he didn't say more because it simply didn't need to be said. 

"Well, we should probably get going," you said, slipping your arm around his, "I was freezing my ass out here waiting for you." 

"Then, perish." 

"You're the worst social experiment boyfriend I've ever had!" You complained, your pout clear from the sound of your voice as Minho let you lead him to whatever date surprise you had in mind. 

“I’m the only social experiment boyfriend you’ve ever had,” he pointed out reasonably, resting his head on yours while you waited for the traffic light to change. 

You let out a huff, trying to push him off you, but it was rather fruitless to make Minho do anything, really, “You’re still the worst,” you said, trying to tickle your way out of the situation.

Minho only chuckled. Two could play at this game, he thought smugly as your attacks failed and he wrapped his arms around you from the side, pulling you snug against him so he could nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, tickling your skin with his hair and making you shriek.

“Lee Minho, I swear to God!” Despite the slurry of curse words that left your mouth, you were laughing and made no genuine attempts to pull away from him. You’ve noticed over the last few weeks that Minho was never one for blatant physical affection, but he was being abnormally clinging today. 

“Admit it, kitten,” he teased, peeking up at your expression as he smiled, “I’m the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

The world around you seemed to freeze as the weight of that question fully sunk in. Was Minho the best boyfriend you’ve ever had? You thought back to every awkward first date, every time the guy looked strangely disappointed when you said you wanted to head home by yourself, every time one of them awkwardly mentioned that they wanted you to cheer them on at the expense of your own passions. You thought through all of those memories before you realized oh my god Minho was the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.

“Hmm? Oh, come on, I was kidding,” Minho seemed oblivious to your plight as he took your silence as a rejection, beginning to let go. 

“You are.”

The words slipped out of your lips before you even realized what you had said. Minho’s eyes widened rather comically as he tried to make sure he was making the right mental connections in his head.

“I am?” He repeated slowly.

“You are...the best boyfriend I’ve ever had,” you muttered the last half, your face burning as if you’d eaten a whole bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos. 

Minho blinked, his entire system short-circuiting.

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” you said, awkwardly shuffling on the heels of your feet before you found your escape, “Oh, green light! Let's get moving!” Your voice was bright and overly cheery as if you didn't just drop a bombshell of a revelation on both Minho and yourself. 

Minho practically stumbled over his own feet to catch up to you, “H-hey!” He grabbed your hand before you could pass the halfway point of the large intersection, where the light was manually turned red by one of the buses.

You glanced down at your intertwined hands and back up at his face before answering softly, “Thanks.”

He nodded in response, trying not to put too much attention to the way your fingers curled around his, trying not to put too much attention to the way your hand fit in his, and asked, “So, where are we going?”

“Well, you brought me to the place you like to go to destress, so I figured I would do the same,” you answered, reaching into your back pocket and pulling out a key that looked suspiciously like Jisung’s access card to the music building.

“Tell me you didn't steal Jisung's access card.”

“It's not stealing if I'm returning it before he knows what happened,” you shrugged.

“Um, yes it is.”

You glanced up at him with a playful smile, “You gonna rat me out, darling?”

That name of endearment shouldn't have affected him so much, but it did, and he physically had to restrain himself from holding your hand tighter as he scoffed, “I'm no snitch, especially not when it comes to my beautiful social experiment girlfriend.” 

You let out a laugh, “You’re definitely the king of heart fluttering pet names.”

The rest of the walk to the music building was filled with idle chatter as the two of you slowly got back into the rhythm of your usual banter. At some moments, it was even easy to forget about the way you’d hug his arm to your chest as if shielding yourself from the cold. It was even easy to forget about the way his hand would gently squeeze yours if he felt you shiver too violently beside him, a silent check up on you. It was far too easy to call all of these little actions as normal, as if he was actually your boyfriend. 

“Are you sure we're not going to get caught?” Minho asked as the two of you walked to the side door of the music building. Although, he didn't sound very concerned about potentially getting in trouble, only slightly curious. 

You slid Jisung’s card into the reader and the door unlocked with a click, “I've done this for years. Even if people do check the rooms, there's lot of places to hide.”

The boy only chuckled, holding the door open so the two of you could walk in and escape from the biting winter cold. After wiping off your shoes using the doormat, you gingerly took his hand again and lead him up the stairs to the end of the hall where you pulled him into a dark room.

“Kitten, if you wanted to find a private little place for us to have some fun, we didn’t need to go all the way to the music room,” Minho said, amused, “I know plenty of lockable closets around the campus—”

“That’s so gross,” you said as you turned on the light, revealing that the two of you were in one of the group music rooms, with a piano sitting at the center of the room and a couple of instruments stored on the sides. 

Minho placed a hand on his heart, “Mean,” he huffed accusingly at you. He was mostly kidding, of course, but a part of him felt a genuine despair at the fact that you didn't seem to be remotely flustered or enticed by the idea of being with him in that way, with such intimacy. 

“Don't worry, Min. There will be plenty of fish out there desperate to jump into your arms soon enough,” you flashed him a wry smile as you grabbed one of the guitar cases and brought it to the carpet near the piano.

“Min?” He repeated, the nickname making him feel slightly better even as your words dampened his spirits. Did you really think he would be that eager to go back to his normal “no-strings-attached” routine after this month? 

For the first time, you looked a little flustered as you sat down on the soft carpet, opening the guitar case with a few clicks of the locks, “Sorry. Do you hate it?” You asked sheepishly, “I just figured that you give me so many petnames, I should try to give you one, too. But if Min isn't good—”

“It is!” The boy interrupted a little too eagerly. Catching your surprised expression, he immediately controlled himself, clearing his throat awkwardly as he sat down across from you, “Yeah, Min is fine. Min is good. It's just...new.”

“No one's ever called you Min before?” You asked with a curious expression while you pulled out the guitar with what Minho noticed was practiced ease.  

He shrugged, “I don't think anyone’s ever given me a nickname before.”

I don't think anyone’s ever reached that level of closeness with me, was the unspoken follow-up to his statement. After all, what type of one-night stand would ever result in names of endearment or genuine emotional attachment?

“Hmm...maybe I should take it up a notch and call you Minmin,” you said absently, testing the tension of the strings and being totally unaware of the spiral you just send Minho down on.

Minmin? Minmin? The poor man was turning into a pile of mush before you and you didn’t even know what you did. Minho was sure that if you ever called him Minmin, he’d throw away everything to do as you asked. 

“If you want,” he said, shuffling awkwardly as he sat across. 

You glanced up at him, giggling as you finished tuning up the instrument, “So this is my de-stress room,” you said, “I like occasionally coming here to write songs or just play the instruments here.”

“You play instruments other than guitar?” Minho asked, sounding rather impressed.

“I used to play piano as a kid, actually,” you explained with a smile as you checked the A string, “Jisung taught me how to play guitar in our first year here.”

Minho bit his lip, struggling to keep control over his expressions, “Right.”

Never before in his life did Minho ever think that he’d be sitting across from you and feeling jealous about Han Jisung’s relationship with you. It wasn’t secret knowledge; he knew you used to like his friend, and you used to like him very much. It wasn’t like Minho minded; you were the one of the decent ones and you genuinely liked Jisung for who he was. Something must’ve happened in the middle of the second year, because you gradually seemed to pull away from Jisung at least in a romantic manner. Minho never thought much of it. But now, he was beginning to fully realize how close you and Jisung actually were, and how much that was beginning to bother him.

Did you still like Jisung? That was the question that always haunted his mind. Were you doing all of this for the boy in your past when Minho was here falling harder every single day? 

“Hey, Min?” 

Your voice broke into his thoughts as his ears perked up, “Yeah?” He answered with an uncharacteristically gentle voice. There was something about the way you spoke that felt hesitant and uncertain, rather unlike you, and he wanted to make sure that you felt comfortable being here with him.

“D-do—“ you swallowed nervously, “do you want to hear one of my songs?”

Minho’s eyes widened. As a friend of Jisung and the other two famous producers on campus, he was no stranger to hearing music that they produced. But because of that, he knew how much these songs meant to the people who wrote them. How personal they can be, and how terrifying it could be to share them with others. And the fact that you were willing to bare that part of your soul to him was a gesture of trust that he’d never expected.

“Do you want me to listen?” He asked with caution, “You really don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“I do!” You blurted out before your cheeks grew warm, “You shared a big part of yourself with me when you took me to that cat cafe, so I wanted to do the same.”

Minho felt a little speechless, so all he could do was nod and give you an encouraging smile. Taking his gesture as acceptance, you cleared your throat softly and began to strumming out a simple chord progression. 

The poor man was immediately entranced. There wasn’t any hope for him anymore. The moment you opened your mouth to sing, Minho fell into silent awe as he let your soft, soothing voice flow through his body. There was something so present about your voice, about the lyrics you sang. Everything just felt so raw that all he could really do was watch and listen with a gentle smile on his face.

When you finished, you opened your eyes and hesitantly turned to face him, “Well?” You prodded, a hint of nervousness slipping out of your lips. 

It took Minho a few moments to put his thoughts together, and even then, they weren’t totally coherent. Nothing like the smooth-tongued, cheeky persona he always embodied, “That was--wow,” he stumbled over his words.

To his luck, you didn’t seem bothered by his failure to string his words together, but only smiled encouragingly, “A good wow, I hope?” You asked. 

“Definitely a good wow. The best wow,” he nodded fervently as you laughed, waiting for him to continue, “Did you ever take classes like Jisung and Chan?”

“Oh, no. I definitely don’t have the extra money for that,” you said, resting your arms on your guitar, “But I’ve always loved to sing, and I’ve always loved hearing other people sing, too. My first childhood crush was this really cute busker who sang Hey There Delilah once near my city’s shopping street.” 

Minho’s lips quirked up in a smirk. This was much more comfortable territory for him, especially when it means teasing you, which is honestly all he ever did, “A childhood crush, huh?” He drawled, stretching out his legs, “So you have a thing for people with good voices?”

“Absolutely,” you nodded, “If anyone has a good singing voice, I’m at least 40% more inclined to fall in love with them.”

“Wow,” he let out a laugh, “That is an incredibly significant statistic. I’m almost worried about how shallow you are.”

You let out a noise of indignation as Minho only laughed harder, fending away your useless attacks, “I am not shallow!” You snapped, your cheeks feeling warm, “Having a good singing voice is just an added bonus!”

“Sure, sure,” he teased, even going so far as to pinch your cheek playfully, “Is that why you fell in love with Jisungie?”

“I’m not in love with Jisung--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know you aren’t now,” Minho waved his hand dismissively, even though deep in his heart, he didn’t actually know and that was why he approached the topic in the first place, “But you were in love with him back then, right?”

The withering glare you gave him was weak at best, and you sighed, hugging your guitar to your chest as if it was your own personal shield, “Yes, I was. But that was years ago and we agreed to be just friends. It was awkward in the beginning, but I’m content with the relationship we have now.” 

“You are?” Minho asked, trying to sound casual as he picked a piece of lint off his pants.

You nodded surely enough for him to see that you were being genuine, “I am. Jisung is just a friend, nothing more.”

Why Minho seemed so interested in the topic that he’d ask not one, but two follow-up questions about Jisung, you didn’t know. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it was jealousy or a way of making sure that you were emotionally available, but you did know better, and you knew that Lee Minho wasn’t that type of person.

Trying to bridge what was becoming an awkward silence, you cleared your throat and asked, “Do you have a favorite karaoke song? We could do a jam session here if you’re comfortable with singing.”

“You want me to sing after hearing how good you sound?” Minho scoffed in disbelief.

You visibly pouted, and Minho’s defenses immediately weakened, “Aww, I promise I won’t judge! And besides, Jisung said that you sounded good the last time you two went to the karaoke bar. It’s just the two of us, Min,” you smiled encouragingly, “We’re just here to have fun!”

Fuck everything. Fuck you and your gentle words, your soft smiles, your teasing eyes. Everything about you just made Minho want to lower all his walls and embrace all that you want to do. Letting out a sigh, he relented, “Fine. Do you know Congratulations by Day6?”

“Uh, I think the question is who doesn’t know Congratulations by Day6.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Minho scowled as you laughed, shifting the capo slightly higher on the neck of the guitar to the right tuning. Giving you time to get ready, Minho pulled up the lyrics on his phone to make sure he didn’t mess up unnecessarily in front of you. It shouldn’t matter, of course, but there was a weird fluttering in his stomach that made him almost believe that he was nervous. 

When the two of you were finished fiddling around, you glanced up at him, smiling, “Ready? I’ll give a four count,” Minho nodded, and after you rapped your knuckles against the body of the guitar four times, he opened his mouth and began to sing. 

His voice and your playing blended together almost magically, and it felt like the rest of the world disappeared as he continued to sing, disregarding his phone since he seemed to know the lyrics by heart. All you had to do was follow along with your gentle strumming, listening and keeping up to the natural inflections of his voice. The room felt cozier, the sterile fluorescent lights felt warmer, and you were getting lost in the ethereal picture of Minho when--

“Why are the lights on in the hallway?” 

The two of you immediately stopped as you glanced at each other, eyes comically wide. It seemed like, much to your luck, the security guard happened to choose that very day to make his rounds, despite skipping every other day during the week. 

“Put the guitar away! I’ll turn off the lights!” Minho hissed at you as he bolted to the wall of the room and you went to place the guitar back in its case as quickly and carefully as possible. Luckily, the music room didn't have any windows on the door, and the guard couldn’t see what was happening inside unless he actually entered the room. 

The two of you just managed to put the guitar back in its original state and turn off the lights just as his footsteps neared the door. In a split second, Minho grabbed your arms and yanked you into one of the bass storage compartments, closing the closet door right before the guard opened the door to the music room, looking around curiously. 

Neither of you could even breathe in the crammed space of the closet as you tentatively waited for the guard to check the room. The storage compartment left almost no wiggle room, and Minho’s arm stayed wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest so the two of you could fit.

Oh god, this was too much for you. The thumping of his heart against yours, the tickling of his hair against your ear as he had to dip down to avoid thumping his head against the top, the grip he had on your waist as his thumb rubbed your side, an instinctive attempt to calm your nerves. 

The silence screamed in the room, and the two of you held your breaths before the footsteps exited the room, and the door clicked closed. Even still, both of you stayed totally quiet for a few moments longer before Minho let out a soft chuckle.

“This is definitely a closet I haven't explored.”

You swatted at his arm, “Now is not the time to make dirty jokes!” You scolded, but Minho accepted your angry hands, happily holding you snug against his chest as he laughed. 

“If not now, then when?”

“How about never?” You rolled your eyes as you lifted your head to glare up at him, but your intentions seemed to die out the moment you realized just how close the two of you were. Minho’s face was not inches, but centimeters away from yours, your noses almost brushing and your foreheads so close that you could practically count his eyelashes. 

Minho gulped, staring down at you in panic and awe as he struggled to maintain his composure. There was so much he could do, so much he’s done before; this position shouldn’t be all that shocking for him. As he’d said before, he has had his fair share of sloppy closet makeouts and even a little more than that. Cramming into a storage closet with his arms around you shouldn’t be enough to send his mind and heart into overdrive.

But they were, because he’s never met anyone that set his heart alight like you did. His eyes trailed obviously to your lips, the way that yours eyes did to his, but he couldn’t find it in himself to make the first move. There was something holding him back, an irrational fear that prevented him from moving too quickly, a fear that he might scare you away.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly, your hands finding their home on his chest as neither of you made moves to pull away.

“About how this date took a rather strange turn,” he answered instead, his eyes glittering with amusement.

To his surprise, you look flustered and a bit ashamed at his words, “Ah, I am sorry,” you apologized, “I didn’t think it was going to turn out like this. They never check the rooms, and I just wanted to show you a place where I--”

A gasp fell out of your lips as Minho pulled you forward until your body collided with his chest. He engulfed you in a tight hug, his face buried in your hair as he mumbled with what you could discern was a hint of trepidation and shyness, “Don’t be sorry. Thank you for showing me this side of you.”

Your hands stilled behind him, your eyes widening as you felt him hold you tighter. You could feel the beat of his heart, the trembling in his breath, and the remainder of the walls around your heart all but collapsed as you snaked your arms around his midriff, snuggling your face into his shoulder and marveling at how perfectly you fit against him.

“Thank you for giving me the chance,” you murmured, your voice muffled by his familiar leather jacket as you smiled, “You know…”

“Hmm?” Minho answered absently, holding you close.

“I like this better than fighting.”

Minho couldn’t help but giggle at the sheer simplicity of your statement, and he couldn’t help but feel inclined to agree with you.

“Yeah, me too.”

v.

“Fuck!” 

Minho let out a trail of belligerent curses as he ran to the nearest bus station, holding his leather jacket over both of your heads to shield the two of you from the sudden and pouring rain. As the two of you were walking in the middle of the flower garden right before the weather took a sharp turn for the worse, both of you were soaked to the bone by the time you found shelter.

As you clutched at your chest, gasping for breath, you huffed grumpily at the boy beside you, who looked way too dashing for someone who was doused like a wet dog, “Weren't you supposed to check the weather?”

“Well, if we went to the arcade like I'd suggested instead of the park, we wouldn't be in this predicament, would we?” Minho retorted, running a hand through his damp locks. 

“It’s a Friday night. The arcade would’ve been packed to the brim and you still would’ve been all pissy.”

“It’s better than being soaked to the bone and freezing our asses off at some random bus station.”

The two of you maintained your angry tense glares for only a moment longer before you caved, rolling your eyes as a smile crept on your face, “It seems like nothing has changed, even on our last date.”

“We're destined enemies. The universe has decreed it long ago, sweetheart,” Minho chuckled. 

The most humorous thing about both of those statements were how utterly false they were, and how aware both of you were about that fact. Anything and everything that existed between the two of you had changed during the course of the month, and both of you knew it. Minho had changed from a necessary annoyance to an irreplaceable pillar in your life, a source of honesty and comfort that you've grown to relish. Even though the two of you still bickered like cats and dogs, there was something good-natured about it now.

“Well, our garden date is fucked and we can't exactly go to the arcade like this, so what do you suppose we do?” You asked with a grimace as you wrung the excess water out of your hair, “This is the last day before our project ends.” 

Minho sighed, shaking the droplets of water off his jacket as he bit his lip, turning his gaze to your side profile. You were happily oblivious to his stare, continuing to twist the water out of your hair as you stared out at the rainy street, humming softly to yourself. He could tell immediately that you were cold and doing your best to keep yourself from shivering. 

It was definitely a pet peeve of his that he’d grown more and more annoyed over as he spent the month by your side. You never liked to wear jackets or bring them along, despite the fact that you were literally cold-blooded and tended to match the temperature of whatever weather was going on around you. It got so bad at times that Minho had already developed a habit of bringing you an extra jacket or scarf so you at least didn’t catch a fucking cold while you were spending on dates with him. 

Unfortunately, the forecast had predicted clear skies and warm weather for the whole day, and Minho didn’t think about bringing that extra jacket around this time, so all you could do was perish in your cold, soaked clothes. 

“You could come over and hang out at my place.”

The words tumbled out of Minho's mouth before he could really consider the consequences, and all he could do after that was look as nonchalant as possible. 

As expected, you gawked at him as if he'd grown a second head, “You want me to hang out at your apartment?”

“Don't make me repeat myself,” he grumbled, feeling the tips of his ears grow hot, “We could dry up there and maybe watch some Netflix or something." 

You let out a scandalized gasp, dramatically covering your chest with your arms, and Minho's face burned as he gave you a hard shove, "Not like that, oh my god!" He sputtered in total embarrassment, fully beginning to process the implications of his words. 

As the poor man dissolved in his own misery, you cackled, relishing his suffering as you ran a hand through your wet locks, "I'm kidding, genius!" You said with a laugh, "Gosh, who knew you were actually such a prude on the inside." 

If you took Minho seriously at all, his glare would have sent you six feet under. Unfortunately for him, one month of fake dating taught you that the man was a lot more bark than bite. You were basically Minho-immune at this point.

“You know what?” He closed his eyes, grabbing at whatever supernatural patience he had not to just shut you up with his lips smashing against yours, “Offers’ off. Walk home yourself.”

“Aw, alright I’m sorry!” You laughed, ruffling his messed up hair as you walked out of the bus stop and into the pouring rain, “Come on, please? I promise I won’t make fun of you anymore.”

You promising not to make fun of him sounded about as genuine as Jisung saying that he’d stop procrastinating on his homework, but what was Minho going to do? Make you walk home by yourself in this type of weather? It wasn’t that he was giving you any special treatment; this was just what any good samaritan would do.

With a roll of his eyes, he stomped over to you and flung his leather jacket over your head, “Let’s go,” he muttered. Smiling playfully, you followed him home, using his jacket to shield you from the rain as you stared at his back with a hint of bittersweetness.

The jacket still smelled like him, you thought absently as you walked in his shadow. As much as you’d tried to deny it to yourself, Minho smelled good. He smelled like Febreeze and citrus. You were going to miss the warmth of his jacket very soon, when he’d no longer be obligated to take care of you or make sure that you won’t catch a cold.

“Did you die back there, sweetheart?” Minho called behind him, “You’ve gone all quiet.”

“If I died, how exactly was I supposed to answer you?” 

“Oh, my bad. I was really only asking out of courtesy,” he smirked, throwing his head back as his eyes sparkled with a mischief you’ve grown out of hating. Seeing the few feet of distance between the two of you, he extended his hand, chuckling, “Seriously, what are you doing all the way back there? Come on.”

You felt yourself grow quiet, taking a few large strides forward before you let go of the jacket and slipped your hand into his. Minho’s fingers laced with yours as he continued on his way, leading you down a couple streets before you made it to the familiar apartment complex.

Now, you’ve been to Minho’s place a couple times, so you didn’t feel too overwhelmed as the two of you rushed into the lobby area sopping wet and trying your best to dry off your shoes on the mat. However, it was always just a quick stop, like standing in the lobby area while he went up to grab something, or meeting with him downstairs before going on a date. You’d never actually been into his apartment before, and as the two of you stood in the elevator in a deafening silence, you couldn’t stop your heart from racing a little faster than normal.

“Alright, now I’m worried,” he said as the numbers on the elevator screen went up slowly, “You’re being abnormally quiet. What’s up?”

You blinked in momentary surprise, not expecting him to pry, since he wasn’t ever the type, “Oh. I’m just wondering what your place looks like,” you said, smiling.

Minho didn’t buy it for one second, but he only gave you a strange glance as the elevator doors opened, “I see. Well, it’s nothing special. It’s just like any other dumpy frumpy apartment.”

“I didn’t mean like whether it looks expensive or not,” you said with a soft laugh as the two of you walked down the hallway towards the door to the left, “I’m just wondering whether it would be clean or messy, if you like to keep it warm or cold. Those sorts of things.”

“Oh,” Minho rubbed the back of his neck, and for the first time, he felt a little nervous about twisting his key and opening the door. What if you had higher expectations about it than he could actually meet? Wait, did he pick up those boxers off the floor before he left that morning? He did, right?

“What are you waiting for?” You asked in amusement, watching as Minho seemed to have gone very still after he pushed his key into the keyhole. When he didn’t budge, you moved forward to turn it yourself, only for him to angle his body in front of the door.

“Uh, maybe this isn’t the best idea,” he said with a pleasant, saccharine smile.

You blinked, “Minho, we’re literally at your door,” you said just as a loud boom of thunder sounded in the distance, “And it’s thundering. Your room can’t be that horrid, right?”

“It might be a bit messy,” he argued.

“We’ve both spent game nights in Jisung’s hell hole. I think I can handle however messy your apartment is.”

That was a fair point. Minho couldn’t really find an argument against that attack. Lowering his head, he sighed, “Let me head in to tidy some things first.”

With a raised eyebrow, you crossed your arms, “No problem, but I seriously don’t care, if that’s what your worried about.”

Minho could only nod suddenly before he turned the key, unlocked the door and slipped in faster than a ghost before slamming the door shut. Just like he’d predicted, his boxers were lying nonchalantly on his bedroom floor, and he shoved them in his hamper before cleaning--more like hiding--the rest of his junk in record time.

You were beginning to think that Minho had just locked you out of his apartment when the door opened once more, and he walked out with a towel in hand, “Did you hide whatever dirty toy you needed to hide?” You asked with a smirk.

“Get your head out of the gutter,” he retorted, throwing the towel at you and leading you inside.

The apartment wasn’t far from your expectations. Clean, but not meticulously so, a little bit on the chilly side, and a sense of homeliness with the warm lights and lamps that he chose from the living area. You found yourself growing fonder and fonder of it by the minute.

“It’s cute,” you smiled, wrapping the towel around your neck. 

Minho tried to ignore the way his cheeks warmed at the simple, but genuine compliment that fell out of your lips, “Thanks. I laid out a change of clothes for you in the bathroom. You can also take a shower if you feel like you need to warm up.” 

“What a gentleman,” you said teasingly as you placed your handbag down on the floor as you headed to where Minho had gestured to the bathroom, “Do you have people over often?” It was an easy question, not even close to brushing the real question that sat in the back of your mind. 

Is what we have special? Do I mean something different to you the way you mean something different to me?

“Actually, besides Jisung, you’re probably the first,” Minho answered, grabbing a towel to dry off his own hair as he walked towards you, “I don’t really like strangers or acquaintances in my space.”

“Oh, I should be honored, then,” you said, trying to contain your surprise as turned to face him, studying the way his damp hair framed his face and the way his eyes seemed to burn with an intensity that you could never read.  You could never tell what that gaze wanted, what that gaze meant, but you knew what it did to you and your foolish little heart.

Minho’s head tilted ever so slightly as the silence hung in the air. Then, he smiled, brushing the tip of his finger under your chin, “Well, being my social experiment girlfriend has to have its perks.”

The trance shattered, and whatever moment of tension and unexplainable attraction you felt disappeared into the air as you marched towards the bathroom, “I’m glad I got to make use of it before my membership expires tomorrow,” you said, your voice tinged with sarcasm as you shut the door.

A laugh left Minho’s lips as he shook his head, walking into his bedroom and quickly getting into a change of clothes before flopping onto his couch. This experiment has proved to be one of the most difficult experiences in his life. All this time, he always knew what he wanted, and he always knew how to get it. If he wanted someone, he got them. If he wanted to pursue something, he found himself being able to achieve it with just a bit of hard work on his part. 

But with you, he didn’t know what he wanted, nor did he know how to obtain it. When he met you as Jisung’s other best friend, he never once imagined that the two of you would form such a strange yet irreplaceable relationship in such a short amount of time. He liked you, he liked you a lot. But as he found himself falling further and further, he realized that the reason this was so difficult was because he cared about you. His way of living with no strings attached wasn’t going to cut it anymore, especially since he was beginning to notice that many of his strings were tightly wrapped around your fingers. 

And despite this, the two of you were going to have to cut them all off when the morning came.

“Fuck you, Jisung. You probably knew this was going to happen, you little shit,” Minho sighed, lying down on the couch and closing his eyes. Whatever, he didn’t want to think about the goodbye. He’d deal with it when it came.

“Uh, Minmin?” 

“Hmm?” Minho answered you absently, his eyes still closed.

“You can shower if you’d like,” you offered, the couch dipping under your weight as you sat beside him.

“Nah, I’ll just shower tomorrow morning,” Minho said, opening his eyes and physically having to fight back a blush as he saw you, his hoodie practically engulfing you whole and his sweats going past your feet. Oh fuck, did he even think things through when he picked out a spare set of clothes for you? 

You caught his stunned gaze, your cheeks immediately reddening, “L-look, they’re just a little big on me!” You said defensively as you grabbed one of the pillows and shoved it in his face, “Can’t you stop staring?”

Minho laughed, fending off your relentless pillow attacks with his arms, “Sweetheart, I swear! You actually look really cute!” 

“Shut up!” You shrieked, swinging your arms relentlessly as Minho finally had enough letting you win. Lashing out with his hands, he grabbed both of your wrists, stopping their movement and forcing you to drop the pillow as he yanked you forward. With all your momentum going in one direction, your body had no choice but to follow, and when you opened your eyes, you were sprawled on top of him on the couch, his hands still locking your wrists in place.

“Um,” you looked around, further procession the rather awkward position the two of you had taken, “did you mean for this to happen?”

Minho didn’t, but he was nothing if not an opportunist, “You can think whatever you wanna think,” he shrugged, letting go of your wrists as he wrapped a casual arm around your waist, “What? Not comfortable?”

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that the position was actually quite comfortable. Minho was always built like a personal heater and whatever chill you felt from running around in the rain just seemed to melt away as he held you. 

Stop it, the little voice in your mind whispered as you tried not to focus on the fact that your face was inches from his. This date was for you to say your goodbyes, not fall farther into the black hole.

“Comfortable? Hardly,” you scoffed as best you could, pushing yourself up with your hands and curling up on the couch beside his stretched out figure, “You’re all muscle from dancing so much. It’s like sleeping on a rock.”

“Ah, these abs are hard as rock,” Minho nodded very seriously.

“I wasn’t talking about your abs.”

“Then what else can be hard?” He blinked for a moment before his smile turned unbelievably devilish, “My, my, (name)...I didn’t know you were so--”

You grabbed the pillow you’d previously discarded and shoved it into his chest, “Can we watch something?” You interrupted him pleasantly, pretending not to have even heard the beginning of his less than appropriate joke.

Minho huffed, throwing the stupid pillow to the floor as he scooted next to you, “Sure, want popcorn?” He asked, handing you the remote after turning on his TV, “Just find something on Netflix.”

“Anything you don’t like to watch?” You asked, browsing through the selections.

“Nothing horror related,” he answered as he pushed himself off the couch, heading to the kitchen.

His reply felt strange to you, and you frowned, turning around to look at him, “But don’t you love horror movies?” You asked, remembering very clearly that Minho and Jisung had first met because they both went to the same viewing of a new horror movie that you refused to go to. 

“Yeah, but you don’t, right?” Minho pointed out before shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly and disappearing into the kitchen area as you were left reeling at his almost blasé answer, struck by how much he’d grown to learn about you and how much he'd grown to take your feelings into account. 

Now that you thought about it, you realized how much Minho's personality had changed and affected the way you did things, not in a controlling way, but in a way that you found yourself thinking about him when making decisions. When you made your weekly batch of bread, you tended to lean towards milk bread because it was Minho’s favorite. When you went out for dinner together, you thought about what he enjoyed before picking a cuisine. When you browsed for cute accessories, your taste gravitated to cats because they reminded you of him.

Holy fuck, how deep in were you?

“You didn't pick anything yet,” Minho noticed as he poked his head out from the kitchen, waiting for the popcorn to finish. 

“O-oh right,” you fumbled with the remote in your hands as you scrolled through the selections. 

Minho hummed, his eyes narrowing in suspicion, “Hmm…? What were you thinking about, kitten?”

“Nothing, stop being nosy,” you answered with an annoyed edge as you found something that piqued your interest, “Hey, wanna watch Bridgerton? I heard some good things about it from my friends.” 

"I heard it's a bit of a shitshow," Minho commented as the microwave beeped and the smell of buttered popcorn filled the room. Grabbing the bowl and taking a few pieces for himself, he returned to the living room, jumping over the couch and plopping down beside you. 

You tried to ignore how casual it felt for him to just throw an arm around your shoulders to pull you close, focusing on the TV, “Wanna check it out to see which review is accurate?” 

“Sure, whatever you want, kitten.” 

As the two of you powered through episode after episode, it became clear that both reviews had some merit, as the series was a bit of a shitshow, but one that you wouldn't be able to stop watching. Minho and you found yourselves rather invested in the story and the characters, letting out a huge “finally” when the two leads confessed their genuine love for one another. 

“Another episode?” You asked after a short bathroom break, falling into his arms even more so than before and practically snuggling into his warm chest now. 

“Go for it, sweetheart. I have all night.”

“So do I,” you chuckled, and pressed the play button. 

However, things started to take a weird turn after you reached the middle mark of the series. Bouts of contained love had been released, and there were beginning to be many scenes that weren't quite appropriate for general audiences. You quickly realized that this was probably not the show you should've picked to watch through straight-faced with your lovely social experiment boyfriend. 

You held your tongue for most of them, just wanting and wishing for them to be over as soon as possible, but when positions started to turn towards an even more peculiar direction, you couldn't help but make one rather underhanded comment. 

“Ugh, forget the literal fanfic fake dating trope they had going on. This is probably the most unrealistic part of the whole show,” you said with mild disgust as you watched the female lead gripping on the rails of the staircase. 

“Oh?” Minho perked up at your comment almost too eagerly. Like you, he had also been suffering from the tragic case of watching a dirty scene with his totally-fake-but-also-somehow-real girlfriend, and felt a crash of relief when you spoke up about something, “And why is that, kitten?”

A noise of disbelief choked out of your throat as you gestured at the scene before your eyes, “I mean, look at them! Can you possibly expect me to believe that she feels comfortable in that position, much less enjoy it?”

Minho shrugged, “You’d be surprised how much you can ignore when you’re in the moment.”

“I don’t believe it,” you scoffed, grabbing a handful of popcorn, “At least, I’ve never had such an experience before.”

The conversation was dropped then and there, and the show continued without further criticism. But halfway through the next episode, you began to feel that you were being watched, and sure enough, Minho was gazing at you with an unreadable expression, deep in thought.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, chuckling awkwardly, “Do I have something on my...Min?”

Your eyes widened comically as Minho suddenly shifted on the couch, leaning impossibly closer to you and gently cupping your jaw with his hand. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck fuck fuck. Had he lost his mind?! 

Minho seemed to answer your silent question as he stopped right before his lips could brush yours, and his eyes searched for any fear or hesitation in your expression, “Is it true?” He asked hoarsely, his words no louder than a faint whisper.

“What true?” You murmured back, looking up at him through your lashes.

The man gulped, trying to hold onto whatever semblance of control he had left in his body, “What you said earlier...about never having such an experience before.”

Oh, your cheeks reddened as bright as apples, “Why do you have to bring it up again, idiot?!” You felt your voice fail you as Minho tightened his hold on you.

“So it’s true?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, “Yes, it’s true! What does it have to do with you, asshole?”

Minho sucked in a breath, studying your face as his eyes shone with gentle adoration and tenderness that you didn’t even know he could possess, “Can I kiss you, (name)?”

Your name. It was your name. Not sweetheart. Not kitten. Not any other petname he could give anyone that he pleased. He uttered your name. He was asking for your permission. And like a sailor drawn in by the siren’s song, you had no hope of escaping now. 

“Yes.”

Closing the gap, your lips met as the two of you finally succumbed to the growing tension that festered with every meeting, every touch of your hands, every quip thrown both ways. Minho caressed your cheek as your hands slid to his shoulders, reveling in the kiss that was such a long time coming. 

When he finally pulled away to let both of you catch your breaths, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes blown wide as he stared at you underneath him. Swallowing, he brushed the hair away from your face, his heart warming with unrestrained affection as you leaned into his touch instead of pulling away, “Can I give you that experience you’ve been lacking?” He asked, a coil of anxiety rolling in his stomach as he studied your face for every miniscule reaction.

Any inkling that you didn’t want to, any inkling that you were only going to along to please him, he’d end it all. Minho knew very well that he was walking on a tightrope of maybe losing you forever. 

But to his surprise, you didn’t look fearful or uncomfortable, only a bit uncertain, “T-this is our last night though, a-as…” you trailed off, not wanting to make those thoughts a reality, just like Minho had been actively avoiding the topic as well.

“I know, I know,” he sighed, stroking your cheek absently with his thumb, “Maybe...we can think of this as a goodbye.”

You smiled, “It’s one hell of a goodbye,” you teased, making him chuckle. It was definitely one hell of a goodbye.

“Do you want it?” Minho whispered, hovering over you, “You say the word, and I’ll back off. Promise.”

Sucking in a breath, you decided not to live by your head anymore. With Lee Minho holding you close, kissing you silly, what was there to refuse?

“I want it,” you murmured, “I want you.”

This was the right choice, you told yourself as Minho carried you to his bedroom, treating you with a delicacy and gentleness that you’ve never experienced before. It was the culmination of your feelings for him. Maybe, when the morning comes, these feelings would wash away with your bouts of pleasure. Maybe, when the morning comes, you wouldn’t be as deeply in love with him as you were now.

Right?

epilogue.

When you woke in the morning, the rays of sunlight spilling in through Minho’s dark curtains, you were almost stunned by how very wrong you were. As you turned your head, finding yourself face to face with Minho, fast asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, you knew that you were not only still in love with Minho, but you were more in love with him than you were the night before. 

And boy, did that terrify you to your very core.

Fuck! This wasn’t supposed to happen. The experiment was over, right? There wasn’t a purpose that pulled you two together anymore. There wasn’t a purpose for Minho to feel any sort of attraction to you anymore. 

Too terrified to face the love of your life when he woke, you did the only thing you knew how to do.

And you ran. 

Detangling yourself from Minho as gently as possible, you slipped out of his bed, grabbing your clothes from where they’d been haphazardly discarded around the room. You changed in record time, anxious to avoid making sound or staying around until Minho woke. It was only 8:30 in the morning, though, and you knew that Minho naturally didn’t like to wake before 9:00, so you had a bit of time.

You wanted to leave as soon as you finished changing, but your guilty conscience wouldn’t let you disappear without some form of gratitude. For the night before or for the way he’d treated you the whole month, you didn’t know. But either way, you grabbed a couple of ingredients that he had in his refrigerator and fixed him a hearty breakfast before heading to the door. You only looked back once before officially steeling yourself to disappear from Lee Minho’s life, at least until you’d be able to resolve these naive and yet deep-seated feelings you had for him.

For the rest of the week, life went on as normal for you, as if your one unforgettable month with Minho had all but faded into the wind as you had hoped that night. You finished your final entry in the diary and handed it back to Jisung the day after the experiment ended. If he had questions as to why you’d disregarded the original plan to hand yours over along with Minho’s at the same time, he didn’t bring them up. 

“Did you at least have fun, (name)?” Jisung asked before you could turn around to leave. 

You hesitated, quickly realizing that the fact that you couldn’t answer the question immediately gave away your uncertainty. After a long moment of thought, you nodded.

“Yeah, I did.”

You really did, though. There was no point lying to yourself about that when you were already having such a hard time pretending that your very real feelings for Minho don’t exist. 

Speaking of Minho, you spent much of the week trying to cut him out of your life as much as possible, which was proven to be rather difficult since the two of you had such a close friend in common. You could tell that Jisung was getting a little sick of seesawing between his two best friends without knowing why the two of you were acting this way. Even back when the two of you were basically the worst of enemies, neither of you ever actively tried to avoid seeing the other.

But now, you were avoiding Minho like the plague. You avoided his school building entirely, and if you happened to see him walking down the street by some unlucky miracle, you’d bolt in a random direction and hide in a store until you were sure he was gone. 

It was a lot of effort, and you weren’t even sure if it was working, since your feelings for him seemed to grow even stronger the more you were away from him.

There was just worry that festered within your heart, this genuine concern you had over his wellbeing now that you weren’t able to check on him every day. Was he eating well? Was he skipping breakfast now that you stopped giving him your milk bread? Did he pass that exam he was worried about?

It seemed your feelings for Minho were going to need a little more than distance to disappear. 

After two weeks of moping and frustratingly obvious heart sickness on both sides, Han Jisung finally had enough with his idiotic best friends. 

You opened your door in surprise as Jisung stood at the entrance of your apartment, an unusually angry expression on his face, “U-uh, Sungie? You good?”

“Do I look good?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “How the fuck do you expect me to be good when I’ve been fucking tiptoeing between you and Minho for the past two weeks?!”

You flinched at the very mention of his name, “I’m sorry. I promise everything will go back to normal soon.”

“With the way you’re doing things, I don’t think that’s going to happen, (name),” Jisung rubbed his eyes tiredly, and you finally noticed the deep eyebags he had, indicating several all nighters, “I finished writing my thesis paper.”

“Oh, congrats.”

It was easier to muster up a smile at that statement, since you were genuinely proud of Jisung for such a daring project. 

“I also read both of your notebooks.”

Fuck. That was a necessary part of writing that paper. 

You nodded, trying to keep your cool, “Okay? Did they not have enough information?”

“Forget the stupid project for one fucking moment, please,” Jisung interrupted before sighing, “At first, I thought the awkwardness came from the fact that you still hate each other, but it turns out it’s just the opposite.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jisung threw you a long look, as if silently weighing several options in his head. You could practically see his thoughts running a mile a minute, and all you could do was stand there as he finally reached into his bag and pulled out a familiar notebook.

“This--” Your eyes widened as you gazed down at the name written in Sharpie, a name that decidedly wasn’t yours, “Jisung, you can’t--”

“Yes, I know that as the operator of this experiment, giving out information that I’d originally stated was confidential is absolutely against everything that science stands for,” he said wearily, “But as your friend and Minho’s friend, this is the right thing to do.”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Read it, dummy. I could tell you what’s inside, but I don’t think you’d believe me unless you saw it yourself.”

Jisung grabbed your wrist and pressed the little notebook into the palm of your hand, “I think you’ll know what to do after,” he smiled gently, his eyes filled with earnest care as he gave you a quick hug and made his way down the hall, leaving you to stand at your door holding Minho’s grey project notebook. 

With nothing else to do, you entered your apartment again and plopped down on the couch, notebook in hand. Did you even want to see it, Minho’s unadulterated truth? A part of you wasn't, but curiosity always killed the cat, and you found yourself gingerly opening the first page. 

Nothing was far from what you expected at first, since it matched quite well to your own experiences. First blatant dislike, then grudging respect, and finally, a growing fondness. You found yourself smiling as you read about how much Minho actually adored the bentos you made, even though he never made his thoughts on it entirely clear to you. 

Then, you finally made it to the last page: Day 31. You found yourself stopping short, your heart beginning to race again as your eyes scanned the first few words. 

~

lee minho: day 31 + 2 days 

action(s): last date 

notes: yeah, i know this entry is late, but i just needed some time to collect myself. 

she left in the morning before i could wake up. i can’t say i was surprised, since i told her the night could be our goodbye, but i’d hoped in some part of me that she’d stay, that we’d just carry on with the rest of the month like the ending date didn’t exist. she made me breakfast, though, so at least i know she wasn’t disappointed or upset with me about how far things went. at least i hope.

fuck, jisung, i can’t stop thinking about her. it’s been two days already and nothing i do can make me forget her. the last night just made things infinitely worse. i played with fire and im getting burned for it. i can’t get the way she felt out of my head, the way she would also look into my eyes and see me for what i am inside, not just what i look like. i miss her milk bread, i miss seeing her outside the dance studio. 

jisung, i think i love her. no fuck it, i do love her, and there’s nothing i can do anymore. she clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me based on how she’d been avoiding me like the plague whenever i see her on the street. and now, i don't even know how much of what she felt, how much of what she did for me was real. did she put in so much effort because she wanted you to be happy? or was the way she hugged me, the way she spoke to me, was it all real?

it doesnt matter now. 

~

By the time you made it to the end of the page, your eyes were filled with tears and your vision blurred over. Minho...he loved you? Had you been so absorbed with wallowing in your own misery that you failed to realize that your actions were hurting him? 

Panic filled your very being, and as Jisung had predicted, you knew exactly what you had to do. You had to make amends, apologize for your actions, and at the very least, express your own feelings to him directly, even if it was too little too late. 

With the notebook clutched tightly in your hand, you grabbed your purse and rushed out the door, still putting on your boots as you hopped to the elevator. Which bus did you have to take to get to his apartment? First the #2 and then transfer over to #13...right.

You bolted out of the lobby, feeling the rush of cold air seep through your bones, but you hardly found it in yourself to care. You ran to the bus station, anxiously shuffling on either feet as you waited for the next #2 line bus to arrive. When the bus finally arrived, you were already standing at the edge of the sidewalk, too jittery to sit. The doors slid open, and before you could barge inside, your jaw went slack as a familiar figure stepped out of the bus, his own eyes widened as they caught yours. 

What was most interesting, however, was the familiar grey notebook that he clutched in his hand, one that was painfully identical to the one you were holding. 

The two of you stood in an awed silence as Minho got off the steps, and the bus drove away. Immediately, you felt a wave of concern as you looked him over from a distance. Did he lose weight? Was he getting enough sleep?

In the end, Minho was the one who spoke first, clearing his throat awkwardly, “Judging by the notebook in your hand, I’m assuming that Jisung fucked us both over?”

“Y-yeah, sort of,” you answered, surprised that your voice didn’t completely fail you in such an important moment. 

Minho seemed to wait for you to continue, but when you didn’t, he spoke again, “Um, I read it. Your diary entries.”

That wasn’t a surprise, of course, see that you read his, but you couldn’t stop the wave of flushed embarrassment from washing over you as you thought about all the embarrassing things  you wrote about him, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking sheepish, “Do you really think I sound like an angel when I sing?”

Oh, if you could hide yourself six feet under, you would have. But you could nod shamefully, “Yeah.”

“Do you really like it when I cuddle with you and pull you onto my lap?” 

Was this your punishment for not being honest upfront? “Y-yes! Now can you please shut up--”

“Do you really love me?” 

The wind was knocked out of your lungs as you finally looked up to stare at Minho, whose face was unreadable as always. He held up the notebook and repeated his question when you couldn’t find it in yourself to muster up an answer, “You said in your final entry that you were in love with me, that you loved every part of me inside and out, and that our final night together just made everything so much more real. Is it true?”

Your eyes filled with pain as you choked out softly, “What will you do…if it is?”

Minho’s expression didn’t seem to change, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes seemed to return to their usual sparkle just a little bit, “If it is true, then I’d call you an idiot for ghosting me.”

“R-right--”

“And then I’d walk over to where you’re standing. I’d wrap my arms around your waist like the way you love, and I’d kiss you silly. I’d tell you that I’m totally and completely in love with you, as you probably already know from my diary entires, and I’d ask you to be my real girlfriend,” Minho spoke, his voice filled with meaning as his grip on your notebook tightened, “Now tell me, is it true?”

You couldn’t even remember how to breathe as you stared at him, the cold winter wind making his cheeks so delightfully rosy that all you wanted to do was to kiss them gently and warm them up with your mittens. And as he gazed at you, the sincerity pouring out of his posture, his words, and his eyes, there was no way you could continue lying to yourself. 

“It is true,” you said, your eyes filling with unshed tears as you gripped at his notebook, “I’m in love with you, Lee Minho, and it’s tearing me apart just like it’s tearing you apart. I want to love you for real, I want to date you for real, I want us to be real.”

Minho took three large steps forward before he was right in front of you and his lips crashed against yours in a breathtaking kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist like he’d promised, and yours cupped his cheek as he kissed you with unrestrained fervor. 

Wow, he really did kiss you silly.

“No more rules, no more of this social experiment bullshit,” he murmured against your lips as he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, “Do you want to be my real girlfriend, (name)?”

What was there to refuse? 

.

the enemies to lovers project: [success]

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x y/n #skz x reader #lee minho imagines #lee minho scenarios #lee know imagines #lee know scenarios #stray kids x reader #dream type: oneshot

[little-fics]

Bee

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Stucky x Reader; platonic!uncle!Tony

Summary: Reader is teetering the edge of a slip when her buddies Sam and Clint are mean to her, daddy stucky to the rescue

Warnings: age regression, scary bees, bottle, pacifier, anxiety, a little violence, angry!Steve (not at you), mean!sam and mean!clint, I may have missed some, read at your own risk

Word count: 2.2K

A/N: I had fun with this one! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer for my blog!

Life with Bucky and Steve was great, you'd officially been together for about a year, and they'd been your daddies about half that time. You didn't always regress, just when the world got a little too big and you needed to leave it all behind. The avengers didn't know about your coping mechanism, at your own request, save for Tony who has programmed Friday to detect when you're little and were about to do something that babies shouldn't do, such as cooking or showering because babies makes messes and get hurt. It was something you'd kept private and to yourself for a long time, and it took months to feel comfortable enough to talk with Steve and Bucky about it. You weren't always feeling little, and had the capability of being a very vital part to the team, but on your days off, it was easy to find yourself slipping into that headspace.

That's how you got to sitting on the balcony, slowly slipping into that headspace after a difficult mission. You'd woken up between Steve and Bucky, crawling out of the bed quietly, not quite feeling small but you know it's coming. Clint and Sam find you outside, sunbathing and staring at the clouds. Sam is the first one to come outside, Clint following close behind.

"Mornin' sunshine," Sam sits next to you, Clint moving to the other side of you, relaxing in his seat, Sam holding out a glass to you, "want some lemonade? I know that coffee makes you jittery on your days off." You take the glass, smiling at the yellow straw poking up from the top, "Thank you! And a straw!" You twiddle with it gently, pulling it out to take a sip. "Gosh," your shoulders sag and your head leans back in ecstasy, "Clint's lemonade is the best, thank you." Clint pointedly looks at Sam, smug, "Why thank you Y/n, I'm blushing." Sam scoffs, "You wouldn't have even made it if I didn't beg!" Clint shrugs, "I made food," he looks to you, "speaking of," he has you a plate with a sausage and egg biscuit. You tentatively take it from him, "Oh thank you, are you sure?" Clint laughs, leaning back in his seat, "Yeah, honey, me and Sam already had some."

Once you finish your biscuit, you're back to staring at the pretty sky, sipping on your lemonade listening to Sam and Clint bicker back and forth. A bee comes out of nowhere, eliciting a small yelp from you and you're quickly standing from your seat. They're laughing, which hurt your feelings, the fear of the bee causing you to slip fully. You try to go inside but hear Sam speak to the AI, "Friday, lock patio doors under code Falcon," before you make it to the door. When you pull on it the door won't budge. "Sam," your voice is meek, "that's not funny," you whine and shake the door again, getting nervous over the buzzing around your lemonade on the table. "Friday, open the door." Clint laughs again, "It's just a bee, you've been shot before and you can't handle a bee?" A tear slips down your face, and you feel your heartbeat pick up.

You shake on the door, trying to get away from your mean friends, wiping a tear away, "Open the door Sam." He's laughing, he thinks this is funny, "It's just a bee, it'll be gone in a minute Y/n, it's fine." You shake the door more violently, and it's clear Sam wasn't going to open the door. You bring your hand to the bracelet that lays around your wrist, a fail safe if something is wrong, to immediately notify Steve and Bucky that you need them. You find the tiny sun charm, pressing the tiny button that notifies your daddies of your state of mind and that you're in trouble, different from the other charm, a moon, who notifies your boyfriends of an emergency.

Bucky is the first one to hear Friday, "Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers," he groans groggily, "Friday, it's too early for this, what is it?" Bucky reaches over to find just Steve, no tiny baby to love on as he hears Friday once more, "I am sorry Mr. Barnes, but it seems munchkin has requested your presence with signs of distress." Bucky's eyes snap open at the use of the programmed name for when you're in your little space, throwing the covers off and slapping Steve's shoulder. "Bucky, what the-" Steve stops when he realizes that Bucky is already out the door, he's quickly behind him, not bothering to put a shirt on, as Bucky hadn't.

"Friday, where is munchkin?" Bucky spits, FRIDAY speaking up once more, "Munchkin is on the patio with Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton." Their brows crunch together in confusion, Steve finally speaking up on their way to the patio, sleep still heavy in his voice, "Is something wrong?" Bucky shrugs nervously, "Friday said she was showing signs of distress." The system speaks up once more, "That is correct. Munchkin's heart rate seems to be elevated and she is showing signs of high stress. She notified me by her emergency contact Sun Ray." At this, Bucky and Steve speed up, trying to get to you as quickly as possible.

The bee is still there, attracted not only to the lemonade, but the brightly colored pajamas keeping its attention as it flies back and forth between you and the lemonade. When it flies towards you, you hide in the corner of the patio, screaming, running to the other corner to hide from it when it follows you, a tear streaking down your face. Sam sees the stray tear, immediately his stomach sinking while you're piddling with your bracelet, ignoring the tears on your face, not hearing Sam when he stands and calls out gently, "Friday unlock the doors." Sam's in front of you, "Let's go inside, come on." When he reaches for you, you flinch back from him, causing his heart to break a little. You're now frantically pushing the button on your charm.

"Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, munchkin has sent a distress call 13 times, up to 17, 23," and then they're at the doors to the patio, slinging them open.

Bucky takes in your appearance, you look afraid, tears freely streaming down your face, now surrounded by Clint and Sam, who are violently moved by Bucky. He's lifting you by your thighs, bringing them around his waist, glaring at Sam and Clint before carrying you inside. When you're back inside, feeling the rush of AC, you let loose, heavy thick tears falling with sobs. "Shhh my little bunny, I've got you."

Steve remains on the porch, staring at a shell shocked Sam and Clint, "What happened?" They shrug, "It was just a bee, we didn't know it would scare her so bad." Steve rolls his eyes at the men, following Bucky back to your room. When he gets there, you're straddling Bucky on the bed, hands tucked under you, fists balled up tightly, hiccuping sobs. "'S mean," Bucky is rubbing your back, shushing softly while you try to explain what happened, "wouldn't let me 'nside daddy, I try." More sobs erupt from you, Steve's brow furrowing, wondering what you meant.

"Friday, show me what happened with munchkin on the patio before Sun Ray was activated." He watches as the TV screen starts playing the scene, fury creeping up in his bones, while Bucky continued to console you, but matching the fire Steve has in his eyes. Steve saunters out of the room when the TV shuts off, heading straight for Sam and Clint. Bucky holds you closer when you whimper, "Oh doll, dada will be right back, he's just gonna go get you something to drink." You continue to sob, you refused to take your pacifier, dropping it out of your mouth every time he tried to put it in, sobs not allowing it to stay. "Baby baby baby, you're okay, that little bee isn't gonna getcha in here, only daddy." He tries to tickle you, but you just sob louder. He's thankful for the soundproof walls, knowing you don't like to draw attention.

Steve finds Sam and Clint in the common room with Nat and Tony. Tony stands when he sees Steve, anger on his face still shirtless. Steve comes up from behind Sam and Clint, grabbing their shirts roughly, pulling them up and off the couch, feet dangling a foot above the floor, turning them to face him. They're shouting, trying to get Steve to let go. Tony is trying to pull Sam away from him, Nat trying to hit his weak spots so he will drop Clint but he doesn't budge.

"Did you think it was funny?" Steve spits, bringing his face closer to theirs, "Did you? You think it was funny when she cried? Think it was funny when she screamed and pulled on the door? How would you feel huh? If someone laughed at you because you were scared? If your friends laughed at you?" Tony and Nat are confused, "Steve calm down, what happened?" Steve scowls, overpowering the men easily as he turns them around, still holding them in the air. "Friday, pull up the patio clip and my bedroom feed on the common room television."

"Voice identification confirmed. One moment." The video starts playing, but all they can hear are your sobs, not able to hear the small consoling your daddy is trying or the talk from the patio clip as it plays. "Is it still funny bird boy? Is it still funny when you know you're the reason she's like this? No? Good." Steve throws them down on the couch, Tony is furious, Nat is scolding them, and Steve's on his way into the kitchen.

Tony follows Steve after shutting off the video feed, Nat still scolding the two perpetrators. Steve is piddling around, heating up some milk in the microwave. "You okay man?" Tony asks, placing a hand on his back, when Steve glares at him Tony sighs. "Man you can't go back to her seething like this." Steve lets out a huff, "I've never wanted to throttle someone like I do right now." He grabs the milk from the microwave, mixing some hot chocolate power in it, something that frequently happens when you're having a very bad day. Tony hands Steve a bottle, hidden in a thin cabinet, only unlocked by four people in the tower; Uncle Tony, your daddies, and you. "She's your baby, and she hasn't stopped crying because her buddies were mean to her and she doesn't understand, if you go in there angry, she will think you're mad at her." Tony chides, Steve, resonating with Tony's words, takes a deep breath, filling up your bottle and continuing to shake it. "Want me to come cheer her up with you?" Steve sighs, "Let us calm her down a bit, get her feeling right and we'll play some games later yeah?" Tony starts to rummage through the fridge, "Have Friday notify me." Steve nods, leaving Tony and going back to his baby.

When he opens the door, you're still crying, but when Steve sits he pulls you into his lap, holding you like a baby and rocking you. "Shhh, it's okay baby, I know they were mean, but papa's here now. It's okay," he's rubbing your face gently, your sobs turned to weak whimpers. "That's it baby, you want some milk?" You nuzzle into his chest, Bucky taking a sip of the bottle making sure it's not too hot and gives it back to Steve. He holds the tip to your lips, you instantly wrap your lips around it and hum happily.

"There she is, sweet girl," his fingers tangle in your hair, massaging your scalp gently while Bucky rubs your legs with a feather light touch. You hiccup on the milk, Steve moving it away from you and wiping away a stray tear. Your fingers clutch around his shoulder, whining, "Papa." He coos at you, "Drinking too fast aren't we love?" You let out another whine, your bottom lip wobbling, "Pease papa." He traces your jawline before bringing the bottle back to your lips, "Slower, you hear me dove?" You nod gently, closing your eyes and continuing to drink the bottle.

You're teetering on the edge of sleep, Steve wiping away a drop of milk that finds its way to the corner of your mouth. He takes the bottle very carefully, stopping when you suck on it a little harder, trying to hold it in your mouth. "Bunny," Bucky's voice sings to you, "let daddy have that, okay?" Steve tries to pull it away again, this time with no fight, Bucky pressing your pacifier to your lips, which you take happily. He clips it to the top of your pajama shirt so if you drop it, it'll stay relatively within reach. "Friday, put on munchkins lullaby playlist."

Soft music starts playing through the room, bringing you all the way under, soft snores against Steves chest alerting them to your slumber. "Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton are outside, requesting entrance." Bucky rolls his eyes as he slides back down into the bed, "Friday, decline entrance and leave us be to nap for an hour." Steve moves you to Bucky, your sleeping form habitually wrapping around him and his warmth. Steve huddles behind you, wrapping his arm over you and resting it on Bucky, rubbing small circles. "She's gonna be a handful today," Steve comments, letting Bucky know that he thinks today is going to be one of those days where you regress further than usual. "She's gonna have such a good time with Tony." Bucky laughs, his eyes flutter shut, "Don't count her daddies short."

#agere fanfiction #agere fic #little!reader #steve rogers x reader #Steve x reader #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy!steve #Daddy!Steve rogers #daddy!bucky x reader #daddy!Steve x reader #daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky barnes #daddy!Bucky Barnes x reader #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #daddy!stucky x reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #Tony x reader #marvel agere #marvel fanfiction #Bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Steve Rogers fluff #angry!Steve #protective!steve #agere fanfic #platonic!Tony x reader #dom!bucky #dom!steve #dom!stucky

[thearvariblues]

Sing Me a Song

“You Geralt of Rivia’s bard?”

Jaskier looks up from his notepad and grins at the man who’s just sat at the opposite side of the table.

“Technically, I used to be,” the bard says, taking a sip of his ale. “We had a tiny misunderstanding last year. I’m sure he’s gonna be fine, though, I’m just giving him some time to cool down and wallow in self-pity.”

Jaskier frowns, because his brain has finally caught up with his mouth and informs him that even though the man who asked the question is very pretty (and he is – a bit short, but lean and clearly very agile, brown-skinned, with dark, wavy hair and stunningly unnatural green eyes), he also has got two big, scary swords strapped to his back, way too many scars and has, in fact, only one green eye, the other being covered by an eye patch, presumably missing.

And then there’s the Cat school medallion on his chest.

As Geralt would say… fuck.

“Unless you’re here to kidnap me and torture me to lure him into a trap. If that’s the case, I’ve never met a Geralt of Rivia in my life. Also, if you harm a hair on my head, he will hunt you down and kill you, very slowly and painfully. Just a heads up,” Jaskier smiles, utterly failing to sound at least a little bit threatening.

“Thanks for the warning,” the Witcher laughs. “But I actually need you to write me a song.”

“Sorry, I’m afraid this bard already has a Witcher to praise,” Jaskier protests, shaking his head firmly.

“Ugh. Who says I want praise?” the man says, making a face. “I just can’t seem to find a friend of mine, so I need to make him find me.”

“With a song? Do I look like a fucking pied piper?” Jaskier smirks.

“A little, yeah.”

“Fair enough. What’s in it for me?”

“What do you think is going to happen once Geralt hears that his bard has found himself a new muse?” the Witcher grins.

“Oh,” Jaskier says, chuckling. “Oh, but that’s good.”

“Are you in, then?”

“Absolutely. And, uhm… What did you say your name was?”

“By the gods, where are my manners?” the Witcher laughs. “I’m Aiden.”

*

Geralt places two tankards of ale on the table and sits down with a grunt.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting old, Wolf,” his brother Lambert smirks and promptly pulls one of the tankards closer. “Because that almost sounded like Vesemir when he’s trying to get up from his chair.”

“You’re so fucking funny,” Geralt murmurs.

“I know, right?” Lambert grins, tucking a strand of curly red hair behind his ear. “So, how’s life on the Path without your beloved bard?”

“Not my bard.”

“So pretty fucking terrible, eh?” Lambert chuckles.

“Fuck off, Lambert.”

“You’re being very nice and friendly today, you know?”

“I bought you a drink. So shut up and… drink.”

Lambert shrugs and for once does what he’s told. Within a few seconds, half of the tankard’s content vanishes.

“If it’s any consolation, life without my Cat is also pretty fucking unbearable,” he says then.

“Hm.”

“Oh, really, Geralt? You’re using your famous hm against me? Me, your brother?!”

Geralt groans.

“By the gods… Why can’t I just run into Eskel for once? Why does it always have to be you?”

“You’re just lucky, I guess.”

“Lucky. Yeah.”

Lambert rolls his eyes and focuses on his ale again – until the local bard grabs his lute and starts playing a slow, romantic ballad. Lambert growls.

“Fuck, I hate that song!”

“Why?” Geralt blinks, because he’s never heard the song before, and to be perfectly honest, it doesn’t really sound that bad.

“A brown-skinned woman with dark hair who’s seemingly killed, then comes back to life already plotting her revenge, only to find out that her lover’s already avenged her? Always reminds me of Aiden.”

“Aiden wasn’t exactly… A woman, was he?”

“He also hasn’t come back to life, as far as I know,” Lambert mutters.

“Who wrote it?” Geralt frowns, listening carefully. “It sounds like Jaskier’s work.”

“Some Master Dandelion. Never heard of him, but it seems he’s very popular now.”

“Hmmm…”

“Oh, not again!” Lambert groans.

“It just… It really does sound like Jaskier’s song.”

“You just fucking miss the bard, Geralt, that’s all.”

“No. No, I actually think…”

“That might be exactly the problem,” Lambert says and places his empty tankard back on the table. “The second round’s on me.”

*

“Seems like your plan’s not working as intended,” Jaskier comments. He’s spent weeks traveling with Aiden, and they still haven’t even heard about another Witcher trying to find them.

“I’m aware,” Aiden mutters, chewing his dinner without even noticing its taste – which is, honestly, probably for the best. “Could you be, like… less subtle?”

Jaskier shrugs.

“I suppose.”

“Fine,” Aiden nods. “Do it.”

*

“It’s a man now,” Geralt frowns, listening to the song he’s heard countless times already. “That’s new.”

“Looks like Master Dandelion might like to, uhm, dual wield,” Lambert snorts.

“It still sounds like Jaskier’s work.”

“Does Jaskier like to dual wield?”

“Hmm,” Geralt says dreamily.

“All the more reason to apologize, then, eh?”

“Oh, shut up, Lambert…”

*

“Still not working!” Aiden groans. He’s been waiting for three months for his Wolf to find him, and to no avail.

“I could, you know… Try something more obvious,” Jaskier offers.

“Please.”

*

“It’s a cat now,” Geralt blinks. “Dark-skinned, dark-haired… cat.”

Lambert sighs.

“Yeah, I hate those fucking metaphors.”

*

“I’m starting to think I should have just… kept trying to find him,” Aiden sighs, staring out of the tavern’s window.

Jaskier, cheeks still flushed from his performance, downs his ale and shakes his head.

“Don’t give up hope just yet,” he says. “I’ve already made a few changes to the song.”

“Oh, have you?” Aiden smirks. “Does it now say Lambert, I’m alive you moron, stop hiding and fucking find me?”

“Well, not yet… But almost.”

“Great. I can’t wait to hear it.”

*

Lambert is staring at yet another local bard singing the fucking ballad. He doesn’t even blink. Geralt is getting a little worried that his brother’s brain might have actually exploded.

“It says a Cat Witcher now,” he says, hoping it would get a reaction out of Lambert.

The redhead finally blinks. That’s probably good.

“A Cat Witcher who comes back to life only to find out his Wolf lover has already avenged him,” Geralt adds.

Lambert blinks again.

“And you know, I’m almost sure that this Master Dandelion is just Jaskier’s new alias.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Lambert mutters when the song finally comes to its end.

“Which one of them?” Geralt smirks.

“Both of them!” Lambert growls. “I swear to gods, if I find out your stupid bard stole my Cat…”

“Excuse me, madam,” Geralt says to the innkeeper who’s just brought them their dinner. “Where did your bard learn this song?”

“That sappy ballad?” the innkeeper frowns. “From this Master Dandelion himself. He passed through the town last week with a Witcher.”

“And Master Dandelion…”

“You know the bard that calls himself Jaskier? It’s him with a fancy hat on,” she smirks.

“About this Witcher,” Lambert growls. “Does he look like in the song?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Kind of small for a Witcher, and almost too pretty, you know, but we had a little griffin problem and he slayed that beast like it was nothing, so…”

“I’m so gonna kill them both,” Lambert murmurs while Geralt has to try very hard not to chuckle.

“Would you happen to know where were they heading?” he asks.

“I would,” the woman says and looks at the Witcher expectantly.

“I see,” Geralt sighs. “You have another monster problem, don’t you?”

“Well. It turns out the griffin probably had a mate…”

“Of course it fucking did,” Geralt nods and picks up his fork. He simply refuses to deal with this with an empty stomach…

*

Jaskier critically eyes the clothes he’s picked for tonight’s performance.

“What do you think, Aiden?” he asks his companion. “Isn’t the purple a bit too much? It’s a small town, after all. Wouldn’t the steel blue look better?”

“I don’t know, I like the red one best,” Aiden shrugs from his spot on the bed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Reminds you of Lambert’s hair,” Jaskier says, rolling his eyes. “Melitele’s tits, I wish he’d find us already, because this is getting really–”

As if on cue, the door of the room slams open and a big, red-haired man walks in.

“You fucking bitch!” he yells when he sees Aiden.

The dark-haired Witcher beams and gets to his feet.

“Lambs!”

“Oh. Okay. That was fast,” Jaskier nods.

Lambert growls and grabs Aiden by the collar.

“Asshole!” he hisses. “I fucking mourned you!”

“Oh, honey, that’s so sweet,” Aiden smiles.

Lambert pushes him against the wall, so hard that Aiden grunts.

“I cried for you!”

“In my defense, it wasn’t exactly my fault,” Aiden smiles.

Jaskier inches towards the door.

“I guess I’ll just… leave you two to it.”

Needless to say, Lambert ignores him completely.

“I fucking avenged you!”

“Yes, that was very kind of you,” Aiden grins, utterly unaffected by Lambert’s angry face so close to his own. “You saved me a lot of trouble.”

Lambert groans, buries his face in Aiden’s shoulder and sighs deeply.

“You fucker,” he mutters.

“Yeah, I missed you too, puppy,” Aiden smiles, wrapping his arms around Lambert.

Jaskier, who’s already standing in the doorway, places his hand on his heart and takes a deep breath.

“Oh,” he whispers. “I shall write the most beautiful ballad about this… Ow!”

He’s unceremoniously dragged out of the room and this time it’s his turned to be slammed against the wall by a big, angry Witcher – but this one is white-haired and dressed all in black.

“Geralt!” Jaskier exclaims, his face brightening up.

“You won’t write a fucking thing,” Geralt growls.

“Is that so? May I ask why, dear heart?”

“Because you’re mine. My bard. And if I ever find out you’re writing about another Witcher again–”

“Then what?” Jaskier asks, cocking his head. “But before you answer, I’d like to remind you that I am not yours anymore, as you have made it quite clear on the mountain that you are not interested in having me as a companion–”

Jaskier is effectively shut up by Geralt’s lips pressing against his with determination that makes it absolutely clear that Geralt hasn’t merely lost his balance and happened to be falling in Jaskier’s general direction.

“Mine,” he growls.

“Well,” Jaskier sighs, slipping his fingers into Geralt’s hair. “When you put it like that… Fuck the mountain, I suppose.”

“Fuck the mountain,” Geralt agrees. “But I’m sorry. For what I said.”

“Apology very much accepted,” Jaskier laughs. “I’d ask you to fuck me, but I’m afraid my room is currently… occupied.”

Lambert’s loud moan only confirms Jaskier’s statement.

“Hm,” Geralt hums. “Do you think this tavern has a bath? I think I still have some griffin blood in my hair from last week.”

“Oh,” Jaskier purrs. “Oh, yes. And I’m sure I could get some chamomile oil…”

They hear another moan, this time Aiden’s.

“What are we waiting for, then?” Geralt grins and grabs Jaskier’s hand. “Come on, bard. We have some catching up to do…”

#the witcher #witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #lambden #lambert x aiden #idiots in love #(but mostly they're just idiots) #aiden lived bitches #major character resurrection #they're stupid your honor #my fics #attempt at humor