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readyplayerhobi · 1 year

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Because, I Love You | 05

; Jungkook x Older!Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 1.5k

; Synopsis: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

; A/N: So, this is a very short chapter that’s just...fluff. I just wanted to write something sweet and cute, nothing too intensive 😊

; Masterlist

Humming to yourself, you squint at your bag and try to mentally remember if you’ve got everything you need. It’s not like this is a special trip or anything, you just always forget to put stuff back into your bag and then regret it at a later time. Though you’ve found that as long as you have your car keys and your phone, you can pretty much get by anywhere.

Thank goodness for Google Pay!

Still, you ruffle through the sections and let out a quiet sound as you realise you’ve forgotten to put some reusable bags in. Putting the bag down on the console table that lives by your front door, you move back through the house to the kitchen and find two reusable plastic bags underneath the sink. Folding them up, you head back and put them in before zipping the whole bag up.

“I’m going now, babe.” You call out, grabbing some Adidas trainers from the shoe storage and hopping on one foot as you put them on. Holding onto the doorframe, you wiggle your foot into the shoe and look into the living room, noting how Jungkook’s got that vacant expression he gets when he’s either completely focused on something or, ironically, not focused on anything.

It makes you want to smile, and if you didn’t have your shoes on, you’d go over and shut his jaw for him. You just wanted to squish his cheeks and coo at how adorable he looked, despite the fact he was a grown man who was taller and buffer than you. He was going to be cursed, or blessed, with a perpetual baby face.

“Jungkook?” His name catches his attention, and those big, bright eyes flicker over to you. He looks up and down your body, taking in your outdoor outfit before they focus on your shoes, and his lips purse ever so slightly whilst a tiny crease appears between his brows.

“You’re going out?” Sighing to yourself, you stand straight once your shoes are on and put one hand on a hip. He shuffles a little awkwardly at that expression, clearly recognising your look of exasperation.

“Yeah, I told you I was meeting up with Momo today, remember? I haven’t seen her in six months because…well, life. But she’s free today so we’re going to head into the city and wander around, get some dinner or something. I’ll be back later, she might come with me so you’ll get to meet her if you want to stay. Otherwise, please lock the door behind you!” He’s still pouting, but now there’s a hint of nerves in his eyes.

Even though you’ve met his parents, he still hasn’t met yours yet and he’s only met one of your friends. You weren’t one of those people with a huge group of friends who all knew each other, instead, you just had a close handful who barely knew the other people existed. Momo was someone you knew from college, but she had a very busy career and personal life that meant the two of you never seemed to sync up.

As a result, she knew that you had a new boyfriend, though after seven months he wasn’t new anymore, and that was about it. You weren’t a talker via text, and neither was she. Either way, you’d realised upon Jungkook meeting Yuna, a friend of yours since high school, that he was an exceptionally shy person at meeting new people and he’d said barely anything to her. Not in a rude way, just in a ‘please don’t notice my existence’ way.

It was cute, and you wondered how he’d handle meeting Momo if he stayed around. She was loud and very outgoing, something you enjoyed about her in small doses. No doubt she’d be friendly, but she’d probably do some subtle interrogating and you’d end up wanting to wrap Jungkook in your arms again to soothe his frayed nerves. You loved Momo, but you’d fully admit that even you could only cope with her in small doses.

“Oh…okay. Have a good time,” He pauses, chewing on his lip for a moment before continuing, “Text me when you’re gonna come home, and I’ll clean up a bit or something.”

At that, you look around your relatively clean house and chuckle, wondering when he’d got comfortable enough in your home to get those visitor nerves. The ones where you’re convinced your home isn’t clean enough for guests. It was sweet, but you knew Momo wouldn’t care. Not that it would soothe the nerves in him, so you’d let him do whatever he needed to.

“Okay, can I get a kiss?” You ask, pursing your lips at him expectantly. It makes him smile as he pauses his game and then stands. Before walking over to you, he stretches with a groan and you’re treated to a delightful view of his lower abs and pelvis as the shirt he’s wearing rises up. And there’s the contrast to his baby face, complete with a delightful trail of hair that you’ve followed many times.

He’s in his usual casual clothes, baggy sweatpants in a neutral dark grey combined with a matching oversized shirt. Jungkook is naturally taller and broader in the shoulders than you, and you can actually fit into his clothes. At least the oversized stuff. You’d be entirely honest by saying that you’d never once expected to be able to fit into a boyfriend’s clothes, not unless they were physically bigger than you, but Jungkook’s shirts were big even on you.

“Love you.” Jungkook murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tightly before giving you a sweet, but short, kiss. You can feel that he’s a bit sad about not being able to spend the day lazing around with you, the last few Saturdays had ended up with both of you being busy doing other stuff, but you both had tomorrow at least.

Squeezing his waist, you kiss him a few more times with a smile before resting your cheek against his shoulder. He’s so warm and cosy and solid and safe. You don’t think you’ve ever felt as happy and content in someone’s arms before.

“Love you, too. I’ll see you later, okay? Make sure to take a break from that!” You say teasingly, poking his stomach before gesturing towards the TV. He’s fallen back into the world of Skyrim, so it’s not unusual for him to sit there for hours and not move at all except to yell in frustration when he gets killed by a draugr or a dragon.

“Okay, okay.” Jungkook laughs, letting go of you to return to the couch.

“And eat lunch! I don’t want to come back to find you hungry, okay? There’s stuff in the fridge for a sandwich if you’re lazy, otherwise, there’s some frozen leftover stew if you want that.” It makes him laugh happily as you fuss over him, knowing he loves it and that he knows you love it too.

You watch him fondly for a moment before grabbing your bag and heading out the door. It’s only when you’re there that you realise Jungkook had parked behind you in your drive, blocking your car in and you groan quietly. Opening the door, you hurry in and peek around the corner.

“Can I take your car? You’re blocking me in.” You ask, pulling out your keys and leaving them on the console table in case he wants to go anywhere. Jungkook hums in acknowledgement and nods his head, eyes already focused on the screen so you know he’s only half listening. It’s enough for you though, so you grab his keys and hurry out the door once more.

Jungkook’s car is newer than yours, a sleek Mercedes that his parents had bought him as a present for graduating. The concept of that was wild, but thankfully he’d never shown any spoilt tendencies, if anything he was too sweet. Your parents could probably have bought you a car if you’d asked, but it would’ve been cheaper and older than this.

Jungkook happily lets you drive his fancy car, though, and you’d admit to loving it. He wasn’t hugely into cars or anything, so he wasn’t precious over it. There was nothing wrong with your car, but there was something about driving a car that had freaking mood lighting.

It’s only when you’ve parked up that you’ve realised Jungkook can’t go home for the night if you’ve taken his car and snorted to yourself. He won’t take your car for the night, so you guess he’s probably going to meet Momo then.

#armiesnet #networkbangtan #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader

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illogical-fallacy · 2 years

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395 or 490

(didn't wind up doing this last night bc the sudden brain-rot from the script drop but here it is! flipped a coin to pick ~)

(Setting: Imagine Mike never made it to Cali, he and Will never made up, the Byers didn't get back to Hawkins until after the events of season 4)

1500 word one-shot byler prompt

#490: “Having the same enemy doesn’t make us friends.”

"What the hell did you just say?"

Mike stopped in his tracks and turned fully around to face Will for the first time since the Byers' clan had stepped out of a half-broken pizza delivery truck almost a week ago. He pulled up a hand to wipe the mix of ash, dirt, and sweat from his forehead as he finally glanced Will over to see just how much he'd changed over the past year.

He was definitely taller and his physique was far more filled out than it had been when they'd hugged goodbye that early fall afternoon, but the biggest change Mike noticed was in just how unnervingly stoic Will's general facial demeanor had become. It seemed like the spark behind his once bright eyes, one that always seemed particularly electrified at the height of a campaign session or coming out of a (albeit bad and cheesy) sci-fi horror film, had been exhausted and replaced by a never-ending expanse of apathy. His cheeks now seemed hardened and flatter, the absence of baby fat contributing to how much more gaunt and empty he seemed.

Mike hadn't been able to notice any of these things before now; from the moment Will had stepped out of the van, he'd fully passed over Mike, going straight to hug the rest of their friends, even Nancy -- but not Mike. In fact, Will hadn't said one direct thing in reply to Mike all week. It hadn't been for lack of trying on Mike's behalf, either, as he had attempted to make mood lightening comments in a larger group, often directed at Will, but had been met with nothing but silence and resentment each time.

"I said -- having the same enemy doesn't make us friends."

"I--," he paused, feeling the evening breeze gently twist through his hair. They had been dispatched into groups of two and were combing through the forests surrounding Hawkins, looking for lost children or displaced survivors from the fallout or otherwise any other signs of Vecna's influence. When Hopper had left Mike and Will for last, he'd gulped; he was sure Hop didn't mean anything bad by it. Quite the contrary, he was sure Hopper had thought he was doing them a favor, giving them some alone time to catch up. And, a twinge of sadness bouncing through his chest, any other time he would have been right.

"What are you talking about?" Mike said, shifting his weight to his other foot amid the fallen leaves and bramble, "I... why would that be the reason we're friends? Aren't we friends for... every other reason imaginable?"

"I don't think friends straight up ignore each other for a full year. Especially not best friends," Will said, pushing past Mike and continuing deeper into the forest. The venom with which he'd spat the word best at Mike with burned his ears and traced a path all the way down to his heart.

He felt an anger rise within him, "I haven't been fucking ignoring you, Will. Do you know how many times I've tried to call? A-and your mom, she was always on the phone and you--"

"Couldn't send a letter? Didn't have the address?" Will said, ignoring Mike following behind him and letting his voice grow hotter, "Oh, wait, no you definitely did, since you managed to get one to El every week for months."

"You never said you wanted to write letters!" Mike said, catching up to Will and putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him. To his surprise, Will grabbed his hand and violently shoved it away, causing Mike to take a step back in disbelief.

"I shouldn't have to say it, Mike," Will yelled, a light break in his tired voice, "I shouldn't have to grovel after you to get you to talk to me when I can see you're clearly able to talk to El. If the best thing you really ever did was wanting to be my friend or whatever, I wouldn't have non-stop radio silence from you. I've talked to Dustin and Lucas and even Suzie more than I've talked to you. Dude, the Christmas card you sent me? You think I can't tell the difference between your chicken-scratch handwriting and literally anyone else's on the planet? You couldn't even write it yourself, you got your mom to do it."

Mike was fully stunned. He watched the haphazard rise and fall of Will's shoulders in the dim glow of evening beneath the forest canopy, muscles shaking out of fear or anger or some messy combination of the both beneath the yellow and green plaid of his shirt. He saw Will's eyes quickly glance Mike up-and-down, before shaking his whole head and turning to continue walking on deeper into the woods.

"Why don't you just go home, Mike?" Will said, turning his head slightly and stopping briefly as he called back to the still statue-like stunned figure behind him. "I'll be fine, we're almost back to my house anyway."

"Will, I..." Mike started. He what, exactly? I wanted to tell you that I missed you so much it physically hurt me? Or, I don't know how to explain to you that I've been so depressed I've barely seen the light of day in months? Certainly not, I've been scared to talk to you since the day you left, because I couldn't figure out how to say what I figured out watching you leave Hawkins for the last time.

" S'what I thought." Will said, a hand coming up to messily smear the dirt and tears on his cheek away.

He turned around for a final time, slinging his backpack off of one shoulder and unzipping the main compartment. Taking a couple of steps toward him, Mike saw him pull out a thin cardboard tube and toss it carelessly toward him. He grabbed at it feebly, feeling it slip through his fingers and onto the ground below.

Bending down to pick it up and brush the dirt and mud off, he heard Will's voice intermingled with the slowly quieting crunching of leaves away from him, "Worked on that for months. For you. Didn't know how else to say what I wanted. If something happens... well, at least I said what I wanted to."

The end of Will's sentence became more of a gentle, choked sob as he grew further and further from Mike's crouched figure. Every fiber of his being wanted to chase after Will, to grab him and tell him all the reasons he'd been so scared to talk to him. So scared to tell him the truth.

With trembling hands, he untied the string at the cap of the tube and pulled out a rolled up piece of canvas paper. Unclipping his flashlight from his belt, he flipped the power switch and pressed the hard plastic between his teeth as he unrolled the canvas with both hands.

He was speechless.

Will did this... for him?

Was that...were those two in the front supposed to be......

And that... was that a heart?

/ / / / / /

Will did not go directly home. Instead taking a long round-about way back to the main highway and radioing Dustin. He was with Steven and not too far off so as Will couldn't group up with them. He'd lied and said Mike had to go check on his parents and was grateful that both his friends were smart enough to not press him on the issue. They'd finished their walk and Steve had offered to take Will and Dustin in his car to the emergency care tent outside Hawkins to get a restock of supplies and provisions to take home.

For the two or so hours they'd been together, Will's heart had felt crushed. He didn't want things to have ended like that. He'd rehearsed a thousand things to say to Mike. And, in all one thousand of those scenarios, none of them had started or ended as abruptly as they had in the woods.

He turned the key to Hopper's house, opening the door and stepping inside. In the low light of the main room, he found his mom sitting at the table, organizing notes and reports she'd been gathering with Hopper to try and make sense of the hellish past week they'd had together.

"Will, baby," she stood up and ran to him to hug him, squeezing tight and embracing his whole body, "I was getting nervous. It's only fifteen minutes till curfew and I hadn't heard from you and--"

"It's okay, mom, just went shopping," he smiled, handing out the bag to her as she pulled away. She wiped a misty eye and took it from him, moving to the kitchen to put it away.

"I know, baby, I'm just worried. Things are so crazy right now." She said, opening the fridge and cabinets as she talked, "Oh, also, Mike came by about an hour ago. He said.. he was looking for you."

She ended her sentence carefully; Will gulped, he knew that his mom was perceptive enough to notice that he and Mike hadn't talked once all year and that every time she or El brought him up he'd grown more and more sullen and resentful in his replies.

"Oh, thanks," he said, turning to walk to his room near the back.

"He left something for you. It's on your bed."

He turned, briefly, catching his mother's eye and allow vulnerability to creep across his face. Catching himself, he quickly nodded and readjusted, moving with vigor into his room and closing the door.

The lamp in the corner cast a warm glow over the whole of the room and, as promised, Will saw a cardboard Nike box in the middle of his bed. Hesitantly, he sat down next to it and pulled it to his lap. He slipped his thumbs under the lid and lifted, the massive pile of envelopes, letters, drawings, and papers inside of it happy to be freed from their compression.

He blinked. There were hundreds of pages and papers in here. He glanced at the top one, dated the day he left Hawkins last year. He couldn't see anything else on the page, however, other than the two words at the very bottom, in some of the most beautiful, elegant chicken-scratch he'd ever seen:

Love,

Mike

(link to my a03)

#byler #byler fic #byler fanfic #byler rights #byler is real #mike x will #will x mike #mike wheeler is not straight #will byers #byler is endgame #will is gay #byler obsessed #byler better be canon #byler oneshot #byler script broke me as a human

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trashlie · 1 year

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hiii hello 💗 i hope you're doing better and your trip was fun, relaxing, and revitalizing! first of all i'm glad @amuraas helped you see that quote, and that it resonated with you! @amuraas - thanks so much that was very kind of you <3

also omg thanks to @gstuffedanimal for their addition on dieter and nol! it's such an interesting and crucial observation and i think they described it perfectly!! the conscious observations vs the lack of awareness on shinae's side… it suddenly makes sense why it's always felt like a head vs heart kind of situation to me. her interactions with dieter are rooted in the knowledge what he likes her so what she does and feels reads more like it's intentional and a conscious choice (and that's not a bad thing! it's what can happen when someone confesses to you but you don't feel the same way about them, but you like them enough so you wanna give it a try and see if you might develop romantic feelings for them, it's understandable!) but yeah the contrast to nol is really striking. she's mostly unaware (or even in denial) of what's going on with her (hence the lack of internal processing -> no commentary/monologue) but that doesn't stop the feelings from coming to the surface. none of this is intentional, but that doesn't stop it from happening. it DOES feel like it's out of her control, out of nol's control too, because i'm 100% sure falling for shinae was the last thing he wanted to happen, but that didn't stop it from happening. what is there to say. the heart wants what it wants!

i'm saying this lovingly but shinae's actually so funny to me (and i'm taking fp 224 into account here) she's like "this guy showed up one day and was like a ray of sunshine in my rainy life and i feel this special connection and i'd do everything to show that i care and to make him feel loved and it devastates me that he can't open up to me no matter how much i try because i just wanna get through to him i wanna help him like he helped me i wanna see the real him also he's making me blush and my heart race and i can't hold his gaze. i wonder what is this feeling 🤔" LMAO. and nol is even funnier because he's like "i'm the master of lies and manipulation 😎" and then he thinks about shinae for 0.5 seconds and immediately turns into a tomato. hilarious. dieter knows, nana is suspecting it, by the end of the day half the hospital will know. boy stand up!!!!! get yourself together!!! and if you're gonna continue making moves, at least put on some pants and brush your teeth first! fgdhsjk sorry i just need to joke about it to cope because otherwise i'll cry… i feel so bad for dieter 😭 watching the girl you like and your best friend/wingman fall for each other, being designated the emotional support friend role when you had hope you could be more… that really sucks :( his wistful expression… pain 💔 but see, that's what happens when you're a blond blue-eyed man. you don't stand a chance against your more charismatic more confident older taller hotter orange friend. FDHGSDFJK that was really mean i'm SO SORRY 😭😭😭 sowwy dieter luv u dieter it'll take time but you'll be fine you're quim's favorite i'm pretty sure she'll give you a happy ending <3

i also really love what gstuffedanimal and you both said about dieter being safe and nol taking her to these emotional highs and lows. it makes me wonder how shinae feels. we know that to nol, shinae's presence is peaceful calm and comforting. we also know that shinae found a lot of safety and comfort in her friendship with yeonggi (especially during and after the formal). but this version of nol (mostly unintentionally) makes her go through a lot. he's also much more intense and bold than dieter, who she considers a calm and peaceful presence. and i still believe nol definitely has the potential to be a safe and calm place for her if he's honest and opens up to her and they can be more on even ground, but as of now, that doesn't really seem to be the case… and i just wonder where that leaves her.

and thank you for your summary on yu jing!! yeah it's crazy how much these past couple of episodes have revealed. and in hindsight it's obvious that if yu jing is working on a story for years, it's much bigger than yui and the hiraharas. we're still missing a couple of important puzzle pieces fit into this but ahhh the plot is thickening!

re: nol and yu jing, tbh i wouldn't be surprised if yu jing informed nol or at least dropped some hints "off camera" (maybe when they met at that diner). he must know she's working on something, why else give her the yearbook? i mean mayyybe it was a complete shot in the dark that just happened to hit bullseye but that feels flimsy. but regardless, it's interesting that the yearbook is in the middle of yu jing's table. it really feels like it's a central in all this? we just don't know how yet. i think you're onto something with the cho's. nol probably immediately understood what happened when shinae said no one was held accountable. i also wondered if yu jing would try to get information about yui from alyssa/potentially get her on their side? then again blackmail isn't yu jing's style, is it? :/

what you said about alyssa… i wouldn't be surprised if something like that happened, given how dark the story has been getting :// maybe i'm giving alyssa too much credit but it's kinda hard for me to believe that she would idolize yui like she does if yui gave her the message that she basically has to sleep her way to the top… wouldn't that imply that her connection with yui isn't enough? and would alyssa still stick with yui if she knew that yui has been enabling sa and helping men get away with it? is she really that far gone? or would yui blackmail alyssa to stay at her side by threatening to ruin her career? but then again, is alyssa that important? idk i guess… we'll have to wait and see.

this is too long again oh well. much to talk about. mwah take care! - lil anon 😼💗

Ooohhh, as usual, I get a lot to dig into when it comes to your asks! <3 So excited about this one, and I definitely laughed out loud really hard at your descriptions of Shinae and Nol because alfjkkjafjkafjkaf SPOT ON LMAO they are a MESS and I love them but my god they are gonna be so embarrassed after a while LMAO (Also i, too, cannot stop thinking about the fact that Nol is just like. Naked under that gown and just acting like it's a normal ol' day MY GUY PUT UR PANTS ON OR SOMETHING PLS the whole of their dance was so funny when you consider that aspect ;_____; LMAO)

As usual, a cut for the 224 spoilers!

I'm not sure if you're in quimchee's patreon but (and I posted this in my 224 commentary as well!) she mentioned this song has been on repeat while working on the episode and ;____; All of the Dieter feels! I DO console myself by knowing that as quimchee's favorite, he will surely get a good ending. As much as what he's going through hurts right now, crushes are a lot easier to get over with the passage of time. Something I've started to think about re: him and Shinae is really in line with what you and @gstuffedanimal have continued touching on and that sense of safety. Dieter admits he fell for Shinae because she was nice to him with no obligation to be. They weren't friends, she was just someone tougher and bolder than him, and it gave him a chance to see through the walls she put up. Someone so shy and internal like Dieter benefits from having friends who are the opposite around (like Yeonggi). Much like Shinae describes Yeonggi, Dieter described her as a ray of sunshine.

I mention this because, unlike Nol and Shinae, as far as we know, Dieter doesn't have a LOT of trauma when it comes to opening up. In his case, it's more that he's such a shy person who has moved around a lot and in moving, you lose a lot of those contacts and it becomes harder and harder to open up knowing the inevitable will eventually come. This is why I feel so hopeful for Dieter. In time, this wound will heal, in time he will meet people who will see in him what Shinae has seen, and what his friends do, too. In time, he will meet someone who will like him as much as he's liked Shinae. But of course, that means time, and he isn't in that place just yet, so boy do I feel for him. I know you posed it as a joke lol but there's definitely some truth to it - Dieter has sized himself up against Yeonggi and saw their differences, how Yeonggi possessed an ease about him, a way to not only reaching out to people but getting through to them. He doesn't necessarily draw attention to himself, because in so many instances he tries to minimize himself and shrink himself away, but those who get close to him get to see it: Yeonggi was such a radiant person.

And I think more than that, what Dieter witnessed was NOT Shinae and Yeonggi, but Shinae and Nol, and how it feels somehow even more tender and intimate, and thus hurtful to see. When you consider who Dieter knew Yeonggi as - this goofy, funny, bright kid - compared to this glimpse into Nol, so serious and intense, I think it makes it painfully more clear. Because it's not that Shinae likes Yeonggi - it's that she likes the entirety of him, whoever he might be. She likes him as a bright, radiant buoy as much as she likes him as an intense, serious storm, and I think that hurts even more. It would be easier to digest if it was just the facade that she liked - maybe those feelings would disappear. But also, in that same manner, seeing it from Nol as well. Nol, who keeps his distance even as Yeonggi; Nol, who played wingman to Dieter even without Dieter asking; Nol, a friend he cares so much about and the girl he likes so much. ;~;

I'm so sorry Dieter, I wish there was a better way for you to find out ;_____; I wish there was a less painful way.

But, at the same time, it's better now than later. Better now than if his hopes continued to grow. Better now than if he'd ever made up his mind to ask her out again. ;~; But still aaahhhhhh.

I had a point and I think I lost it lmao ;~;

Anyway, yeah, I think that's what makes it hurt even more - is that Dieter can understand why Shinae would fall for Nol, because he loves him, too, and thus he understands what she sees. But also LMAO akjlfkafjafj I know some people theorize that Soushi had a crush on Alyssa (he noted that she's cute when they first saw her alone, but finding someone cute doesn't necessarily equate to a crush) and if it were true, this would make the second time Nol has sort of "stolen" someone aljfkkafjkaf lmaoooo (I hate the concept of "stealing" a person but. You know what I mean lmao) God bless.

and i still believe nol definitely has the potential to be a safe and calm place for her if he's honest and opens up to her and they can be more on even ground, but as of now, that doesn't really seem to be the case… and i just wonder where that leaves her.

I think this is especially so when we consider the difference in how she was thinking/speaking in 223 vs 224, and even if we look at 152 as well as 178 and 179. I think these demonstrate REALLY well those highs and lows Nol takes her to. One moment she's being rather soft (for her) and sentimental, the next she's trying to be tough and retreat into her shell. She doesn't know what to make of him or her feelings about him, and I think it's safe for us to assume how big her feelings are, and that because of their enormity she can't get herself around them, so she oscillates between these extremes. She is also a fish out of water in this way lol - she has no experience at REALLY liking a person and what you do with those feelings so they're just sitting there, festering, making her feel weird. She puts up her guard but she'll just as quickly let it back down if she worries he might slip away. She lets these sentimental moments leak out, little confessions about how much she cares, but she fails to process her feelings authentically. Yes, she knows she's upset and hurt. Yes, she acknowledges it's because she cares about him and that caring alone isn't enough. But she still can't see the forest for the trees - she's so hung up on caring about him and how it keeps blowing back and hurting her that she's yet to realize the enormity of that care, and why it affects her so much worse than, say, Dieter.

To Nol she is calm and peace, but to Shinae, he's currently a raging sea. But I think that's only a part of it, because we've often seen Shinae reach out to Nol when she feels unmoored. That time she lol stalked him at work? The night she'd called him because she saw what they were saying on tv about him, and he ended up being a sense of calm for her in their own little bubble. Like you, I think there's a lot of potential for Nol to be that kind of safe harbor to her that she's been to him, but he's still so volatile, his life too tumultuous for that. She was so scared when Yujing and Rand drove away with him, and she stayed by his side even until she'd fallen asleep waiting for him to wake, and though she was full of concern, once he had, it WAS a really peaceful moment for them. We saw those echoes of her friendship with Yeonggi, how easily they fall back into that easy, comfortable relationship. It's just that.... yeah. Nol HIMSELF has to become peaceful - or, rather, CAPABLE of peace - because as long as is a turbulent body of sea, Shinae can't have peace with him.

I also think it's not that he has to change a lot TO be that presence for her. Like you said, he just has to be honest. He has to be able to let her see those raw parts of himself that scare him, that he loathes so much. He doesn't have to tell her everything immediately; I think it's more that he needs to be upfront about his fears. Admit that there are parts of him that he isn't ready to show, apologize for it. She can't see into his brain, so he needs to help her understand, and that's really all it takes. A little bit of effort and honesty. When he apologized to the space where she'd once stood, it felt so frustrating, because sure it wouldn't completely ease her feelings, but it's better than telling her he doesn't want to open his eyes, that he's okay missing out on the moment they're sharing, better than putting everyone else ahead of his needs.

But now that we're thinking about it, I do find it a little funny how Shinae represents that sense of safety and security for Nol, while he just keeps taking her on this wild ride lol. That's the very thing she didn't want in her life, lmao. If anything, I think that's a testament to Shinae's feelings, though - Nol represents everything she's tried to avoid, and she still can't help but be drawn to him, still can't help but want to do for him what he did for her. I love her ;~;

he must know she's working on something, why else give her the yearbook? i mean mayyybe it was a complete shot in the dark that just happened to hit bullseye but that feels flimsy.

I guess it wouldn't be the first time that something has happened "off screen" and was shown to us later - the whole of Nolyssa's conversation at the hospital wasn't really shown to us until episode 132 - a whole 66 episodes after we saw the first part of it! lmao So if it turns out that Yujing has informed Nol and we never saw it but it will be revealed later... then I guess I won't be TOO surprised lol. Because I agree - it seems like way too lucky a shot in the dark. It seems way to convenient if Nol didn't already have any inkling.

Frankly, I get the idea that Yujing may not be entirely sure what to do with the yearbook, either. It doesn't seem immediately evident to her, or else it would be opened up, right? Perhaps just as it is for us, it's just a clue to a bigger story she's yet to uncover?

I am SO glad you bring up Alyssa, though, because I have THOUGHTS about her! So many!!!!! (I don't think this surprises ANYONE, though lmao)

For most of the her appearance, we've been able to deduce that Alyssa admires Yui. She says so herself. But in the way that things aren't always what they appear, I think the more we learn about Alyssa, and the story itself, the more we start to see that there's more to it than we think.

I do think from the get go Alyssa WAS enamored with Yui. She is strong, independent, beautiful, wealthy, and powerful. Yui is everything Alyssa wishes to be. There's a lot I could get into about why Alyssa covets this (her family life like her mom's relationship with her dad, the possibility of her being queer and thus needing to be powerful) but I'll try not to get too deep into that. The point is: Alyssa covets power/influence and admiration, and on the surface, Yui exemplifies that.

In the same way as with Kousuke, I think Alyssa is inherently drawn to what she wishes she was, to what she covets. She wants to live a life where she doesn't have to worry about fitting in, or hiding a part of herself, or shoving down the real parts of herself in order to attain admiration. I do strongly think that the likelihood of Alyssa liking girls is a part of why she wants to fit in and be loved, but that's a whole other point. What matters is that Alyssa seeks out people who have what she wants.

We know that at least in middle school, Alyssa's dislike for pop music bordered on disdain. But we also saw in middle school that Alyssa learned you have to follow the herd if you want to fit in, and that girls admire those who are trainees.

What began as a ticket to making her dreams come true, though, seems to have become a nightmare.

(sorry for the Yui jumpscare)

Now, we can't take everything at face value, and Yui is clearly trying to get a rise out of Nol, to make him believe that Alyssa's lyrics about being trapped in a bad relationship are about him. But the as the song goes on, the focus pulls back to reveal a fuller image of Yui, with the lyrics "All these red hues keep me locked in place", "thousand pound shackles wrapped round my ankles".

As discussed with @bittrbuttr there ARE multiple ways to read these lyrics post-flashback - and frankly, I think it's possible for both to be true. Theorizing that Alyssa likes girls and hides this as a secret she can't let anyone know, this could be the shackles that hold her in place. But all these red hues? Unlike the black and white formal, we don't have a red and gold = a different team theme at the Christmas party, but still, it's pointed enough that the lyric applies to Yui, given that the focus pans out to give a longer, lingering look at her - dressed in red.

Again, we know that Alyssa doesn't really love pop music. I think to her, this was just a stepping stone to what she ultimately wants. It's possible that maybe she never even wanted to ACTUALLY debut - that she just wanted the glamor of being a trainee, with the hopes that it would give her that instant love and attention she covets.

There's a lot of implication from her group mates that Alyssa isn't around as much - missing practices, maybe? Implying that if she wasn't so busy talking to other people, she wouldn't do so bad on stage. Of course, we have to take this with a grain of salt - there's a clear rivalry between Alyssa and at least Sumin, and given the circumstances, it's not hard to imagine why. I guess Sumin and the others trained a lot longer than Alyssa, she was a last-minute addition to debut with them, and they know she got the leg up from the Hiraharas. With how hard they've worked, having Alyssa join and be a face of the group would be a huge sleight to anyone. But if it's true that Alyssa doesn't practice as hard as them... well, couldn't it be that this isn't REALLY what she wants? She's stuck in a role that she doesn't enjoy, had hoped it would fast-track her to her goals, but she's learned that the love she receives from her fans isn't unconditional. As an idol, she's expected to perform for them at any time, even on her downtime, and rather than let Nol defend her right to privacy, she gave in to fans invading her privacy to take the photos she told them she wasn't supposed to take.

But what does that have to do with Yui? After all, Yui merely gave Alyssa the opportunity, right? She fast-tracked Alyssa's career, but Alyssa (and her family) are the ones who agreed to it. Perhaps her lyrics are just about the trap that is her career, about the choice she made that makes her feel like she's pinned in place.

But I do think there's more to it, whether it involves the darker side of sponsorship or even what might ride on the line. If Shinae is trapped in her contract with no way out, who is to say it's not the same for Alyssa? Firstly, as it is, a lot of kpop groups are locked into 7 or 10 year contracts (depending on trainee time) and breaking that contract will not only be costly in terms of money, but also in whether or not they can even remain in the industry. But I get the feeling it's about more than that for Alyssa - whether it has to do with financials or something else, I feel like there's a lot at risk if Alyssa tries to escape.

This episode is the most-referenced reasoning behind Alyssa's admiration of Yui, but something really important to note is that when Alyssa speaks of what a charitable woman Yui is, she's closed her eyes. Alyssa is one of the more dishonest characters in ILY - she is dishonest with herself, with her friends, with her family. She has a lot to hide or repress. And with what we know about her personality, it makes her deceit in this moment even more intriguing.

I think Alyssa DOES covet those aspects of Yui - that she is strong and beautiful, independent, that she is a separate entity from her husband. But that seems to be the only honest thing Alyssa says, leading in to her desire to be part of a power couple.

When she calls Yui charitable, her eyes are closed. One would think that seeing Yui continue to just hand out jobs to people would support the idea that it truly is charity. But if Alyssa has started to see Yui for who she is, started to get a glimpse at the monster that lies under the mask, maybe she knows all too well it's not charity, but rather a trap.

I've also considered that maybe hearing how Yui gave Shinae a job makes Alyssa feel uncomfortable in the face of her own "charity" - the connotation that she didn't work for or earn this role is not lost when we know how her groupmates regard her, and such a public declaration of Shinae being given a job might make her feel all too aware of the fact that she hasn't earned her own job. And maybe that is part of it, too!

But I think it also has a lot to do with realizing, belatedly, that it's a trap. And I think there's a possibility that Alyssa might feel concern for Shinae, since she knows firsthand what a trap it is.

The thing about the closed eyes is that it's a mask, right? It's hiding something or being dishonest. Alyssa admits she wants to be just like Yui, which surprises Nol, because Yui is someone he detests, he can see the monster for who she is. But because of Alyssa's mask, I don't think we should take it completely at face value. There are things about Yui Alyssa admires, but it doesn't mean she wants to be just like Yui, I think. She wants to adopt aspects of her, but I think Alyssa is more aware of who Yui really is than Nol has yet realized. It's just that Alyssa has to continue to play her role, lest she lose everything she's got. Perhaps there's a subtle threat implied in her career. After all, Yui doesn't give anything for free.

Maybe it isn't as nefarious. Maybe it is like you said - Yui "teaching" Alyssa that to get what she wants she has to do uncomfortable things, sleep her way to the top, get chummy with the people who can make or break her. Maybe that IS the disillusionment, the realization that this career isn't what she had wanted, that there's an insidious underbelly to this industry, and that Yui did not thing to protect her. It seems to be very in line with how Yui operates, too - she doesn't like to get her hands dirty, she twists honesty in a way that can't be used against her. "I never TOLD you to sleep with anyone, Alyssa". Just implied it, just invoked the nature of this industry.

But I strongly feel like Alyssa doesn't quite admire Yui the way she once did, that she sees something else in her that she has no one to confide in about it. And consider how long it's been since Nol last saw Alyssa, and how their text conversations have gone nowhere. How is he to have any indication that Alyssa doesn't mean what she says, that she's just speaking to save face? For him, it's personal ire to hear Alyssa applaud the woman he detests so much. How much have they ever talked about Yui, anyway? Nol says he tried to steer her away, but I'm curious what kind of efforts he made. One of his points in his argument with Alyssa is that she knows his family doesn't see him, that they make him feel invisible. But does she have any awareness of just how abhorrent Yui has been to Nol? Again, so much of what she does is hard to trace back to her, hard to contritely say "yes, Yui abused him".

It's likely that Alyssa says what she does because she thinks she needs to, because she needs to save face in front of him, and that Nol doesn't know otherwise because he and Alyssa aren't close (anymore) and he doesn't know her well enough. He's so used to people praising Yui, he already knows that at one point in time Alyssa idolized her. Why would he think anything has changed, ESPECIALLY now that Alyssa has her career?

So to steer back to your point, I DO think it's very likely that Alyssa is being blackmailed, or at least that there's a bigger threat if she tries to back out. Yui made her and she can unmake her - and it's possible that unmaking her could be even worse. What could she do to Alyssa's family, if she as to rebel? Isn't it so easy to just see it from the view of someone unrelated - that Yui took this girl "off the streets" and gave her such an incredible opportunity, and she went and threw it in Yui's face? It would be SO EASY to make Alyssa the villain.

And I do wonder if there's something to latch on to, between the yearbook and Alyssa and Yui, but I'm not sure if there's more we should be seeing from it. Maybe there's more that Yujing has to yet uncover, but I do feel like there's a good chance that it's not so much that Alyssa is that far gone, as much as she's trapped. As to what her importance is...? On the one hand, Yui still uses her to get a rise out of Nol - the fact that she tried to make Nol believe the song is about him stands to prove that. But we've also seen Yui draw a curious connection between Alyssa and Kousuke that I still puzzle over.

This moment ALWAYS stands out to me as so odd. She uses it to segue into giving Shinae a job, but I can't help but feel like it has more of a purpose? Idk. It's not that I think Kousuke has any interest in Alyssa in that way (though I still feel like there's some curious oddities happening between them lol) but it almost feels like Yui is trying to use Alyssa on Kousuke? Idk idk. This isn't the post for that. The point is: at the end of the day, does Alyssa need to be very important for Yui? She seems to so enjoy peoples' misery and running them into the ground that Alyssa could simply be just another desperate girl she's enjoyed making a mess of. Idk. Yui is... difficult to read lol.

Also don't worry about your other ask! I wanted to save that for a separate one since I knew this would get very long anyway lmao

#I Love Yoo #ILY Brainrot #ILY FP #ILY Spoilers #Lil Anon #Shinae Yoo #Nolan Oliver T. Lochlainn #Nol #Dieter Becker-Wulff #Yui Hirahara #Alyssa Cho #Stalkyoo #Aegi #Shieter #i promise ONE DAY i will finally write my post about Alyssa lmao #ONE DAY i will talk about her sexuality in relation to her need to fit in #and how much do we want to bet Yui might even know and uses it to blackmail/threaten Alyssa?#that's a detail i didn't even think of until now but god it makes me feel ill to think about #but i feel VERY CERTAIN that Alyssa's belief that fitting in equates to security has everything to do with needing to 'seem normal'#(in that people have made her/other queer folks feel bad about who they are/who they love)#but again THAT'S A WHOLE OTHER POST I PROMISE IT WILL HAPPEN!!!!!#i was enthusing so much about it again today lmao #ILY Ask #Yujing

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bull-and-seeress · 10 months

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Today we live in a world where bigotry spreads fast through cultic imitation. Lately, I began to wonder how ancient peoples would have understood unfamiliar kinds of people. If you've never heard of something in your life, it's easy to be apprehensive, but hard to be truly hateful. So here's some hypothetical scenarios.

Neolithic Balkans; 6000 BC "Let me tell you. There was this group of traders and travellers who stopped here for a day. They'd come from down south, from the archipelago. Five men and three women. See, the sun's hotter down there, so they're all a bit tanned, though of course the men are more tanned than the women, so their culture isn't so different from ours. They all look a bit outland, but one woman catches my attention since she's taller than me, and we strike up a conversation. Now bear with me; you might not believe this. Turns out that she wasn't always a woman. She told me that she had once been a man, but somehow changed into a woman. Now, I'd never heard of such a thing, so was asking all kinds of questions. She said her body is like a man's, but that in all respects she lives as a woman. She has a husband at home and does most of her work indoors. I asked her how she came to change, and she said that manhood never felt right to her, and the gods told her in a dream that she would become a woman. Isn't that so interesting? What a wonderful world the gods have made for us."

Palæolithic West Asia; 20,000 BC "You want another one? Alright. I've been far looking for buyers, very far. I've wandered west over mountains and fields. If you follow the glacier west far enough, you'll find more temperate steppes. The people who live there look quite different from us. See, we're pale skinned, but they're dark brown, even the ones who live near the ice. Otherwise they look quite like us when it comes to noses, heads, and so forth. I was camping out by a river one night when a band of them came over. They seemed happy to see me. I think they'd probably seen one of my kind before, but I'd never seen one of them. They laughed when I stared at them; their teeth were quite clean and white, which stood out against their dark faces. Anyway, the next day they welcomed me to their camp and after we had a feast I presented some of my wares. They were very happy to buy my blue-gems, do you remember those? They were very generous and accomodating. Anyway, point is that not everyone in the world looks the same. I guess humans are animals after all, and animals come with different coat patterns. I've visited a lot of peoples, and while local customs vary, I've met no man that'll turn down a chance for a megaceros feast and some song and dance. People have diverse looks and ways, but ultimately everyone's the same animal. I'm old enough to know that."

Palæolithic Northern Africa; 12,000 BC "When most boys become men, they become attracted to women. But there's often a few men who, for whatever reason, don't really care much for women, and are fascinated with other men instead. Now, I don't understand what this feels like or why these men choose to be this way. But I know that it can be helpful for the community to have some of these men. Most men have women to attend to, and later babies and children. But men who like men don't have any children, so they can be depended upon for tasks that take a lot of time, like babysitting, trading, long hunts, and long fishing trips. Of course everyone wants to be at home, but these men can make a home for themselves anywhere, and aren't tied to their wife's living area. Men who like men tend to trust each other a lot, and some have this weird way of coordinating when it comes to hunting. Most men would argue over their share of a kill, but since they only need to feed themselves, they don't care for arguments, and often try to mediate the division. Although women are also often good at that, it's useful to have a man out at the scene of the hunt to stop the married men from clawing each other's eyes out over limited meat. Of course, the downside to having a man who likes men is that he doesn't make grandchildren for his mother and father. Thus, his parents will try to make another son who likes women. But since he has no duties to his own wife, a man who likes men can be a valuable uncle-babysitter, allowing his brother to go collect food and resources for his family, and do his duties as a man, and so on. Before you were born, the leader had a brother like that. His brother helped him to stay an active leader while he had three children and a wife. A strong leadership that was; we've fallen since then."

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dokitm-arch · 2 years

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from monie - “i don’t normally do this…” jirō starts with a bit of a blush on her face ( in a very blink or you’ll miss it kid of moment ), “but it’s your birthday and it was the only gift that i could really think of.” an admission that may have sounded modest at best, but in actuality she had worked really hard on it. he was one of the few people in their class that seemed the most enthusiastic about her musical abilities, so it had only seemed fair to put together something special for kaminari’s birthday.

it would’ve been easy to put all of her music on a thumbdrive and give it to him as a gift, but there was something she liked about burning it all onto a cd and decorating both the disk ( while being careful to not mess it up so it could be played ), and the case that held the cd too, that felt a lot more personal as well. even if it was a bit obvious that there were music notes and little lightning bolts, tying into the other’s quirk.

“you’re the first one to hear these demos… they need more work but I wanted you to be part of it.” wow, that sounded so cheesy. was her face getting hotter or was it her? “lemme know what you think, okay?”

today proved to be just a right day to throw your legs back and rest your soul away. while classes and trainings were still mandatory ( a pitiful shame, if you ask the lightning hero - seriously, birthdays happen once a year and there’s no break for the special person?! ), denki still found lighthearted atmosphere midst the hours and hours of frying his brain up - from his usual group taking him aside to give them their shared gift to a large, birthday cake sato prepared in secrecy. no wonder they were all so secretive these past few days!

however, what denki was most curious of was about to come in courtesy of jirou pulling him aside from the party. at first, he assumed she was going to chide him for making too much of a fuss but the quick flush of her cheeks and averting told him otherwise which, admittedly, kept him on toes. whoever said the ever so charming and quick witted chargebolt wasn’t keen?

her muttered words haven’t fallen on deaf ears and instead earned the taller to lean closer whilst peering right at jirou with those cat-like eyes, his smile never faltering. ❛ you... don’t do normally what, jirou? c’mon, you don’t gotta be so shy! you know that whatever it is, i’ll LOVE it, since it came from you! ❜ that part was very much true, genuine even, but perhaps he hadn’t realized how heartfelt it could be. not yet, he did ... after all, who on earth would go for the class clown of 1-A?

when given the painted cover and cd with “demos”, as jirou puts it, denki couldn’t help the excitement painting his features and the giddy hands holding her gift with ginger care. jirou’s music, in one CD?! and they are demos, of all things, which meant an opportunity to support his friend and encourage her through and through?! this had to be a sign, it just had to! ❛ woah, seriously?! you’re giving me the demos and want me to be part of them?! that’s amazing, jirou! seriously! ❜ he leaned way closer to the girl, beaming brighter than the sun. ❛ thanks so much! now i’ll have more awesome music of yours to listen to! hey, how about after the party, we go to my room and you show ‘em? sounds like a good idea, right? ❜ any excuse just to give confidence to her... just to have her smiling.

#👹 ` ⟪ ask. ⟫ / TEXT MESSAGES.#👹 ` ⟪ ch. denki kaminari ⟫ / CHARGEBOLT.#lord this is so goddamn rusty. i need to reread the entirety of bnha BUT. he is v happy abt this!#even if this boi is a lil fried up w density hes v much like !!!!!!!!!! YO THIS IS EPIC!#denki vc; THIS IS AWESOMESAUCE #👹 ` ⟪ queue. ⟫ / CRYING IN THE CLUB.

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lt-sarai · 6 years

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If you follow @scruffylookingpiratecaptain there’s practically no reason to follow me too, we’re basically the same person.

#there are only a couple of differences #first and foremost her obsession with TWD and Norman Reedus #is not for me #but otherwise she's like a taller hotter me

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mercy-burning · 3 years

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Honeybee

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: While attending Seraphina's wedding, Y/N discovers that her crush on her best friend’s older brother hasn’t gone away after all these years. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, alcohol consumption, fingering, penetrative/protected sex Word Count: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know I promised a oneshot over the weekend, but I’m a messy, inconsistent bitch, so you get it a day late 😅🥰

———

Looking back, I was starting to wonder if Seraphina only got engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor just to witness my slow descent into a heaping puddle of lovesick mush.

Truly, it was pathetic.

Yeah, yeah, she was getting married because she loved her fiancé and whatever, obviously, but she was also using it as an excuse to try and get me to admit my feelings for her older brother. Feelings, I might add, that only surfaced when I was a middle schooler and went away once he went off to college.

Sure, I'd thought about him on occasion when he was inevitably brought up around Sera's house throughout the years, but that was it. I'd hardly say I was hard-core in love with him. And I was totally prepared to see him for the first time since our high school graduation.

At least, I thought I was.

And Seraphina—the little shit—knew it, too. The smirk on her face the moment we were all in the same room for the first time in ten years made me want to run and hide more than her brother's figure, right in front of me and hotter than ever.

I was mad. Not at Sera as much, because really there was nothing she could do about the fact that he was her brother, but I was mad at myself. Because how in the hell had it stood to reason that a man I actively didn't think about for a whole decade had this much of an effect on me after all this time?

Honestly? I blame the FBI.

If he'd done literally anything else with his life I probably could have made it. Well, not by much if we're being honest, but come on...

Where he'd been a bit nerdy and reserved as I knew him, the man in front of me had clearly changed. Not just physically, though that was also a pleasant surprise. He looked like he'd been through some shit... And he carried himself taller. There was a new air of confidence that perched on his shoulder and helped him along as he talked with old friends and family members at his sister's rehearsal dinner.

Spencer Reid was older and more experienced this time around, and somehow even more goddamn delicious...

I was a total wreck. And it was about to get a whole lot worse.

He was coming this way. Right for me. He'd noticed me staring at him all night, because I couldn't keep my shit together, and now I was absolutely doomed.

Guess it was a good thing I'd practically grown up with him and knew how to act outwardly.

Still, the moment he was up close and flashing me that little smile of his, I felt the pit of my stomach scream out loud, sending shockwaves through my bloodstream.

"Hey, Honeybee. It's been a while."

Fuck. That fucking nickname...

"Spencer... It has."

When we hugged briefly, I tried as hard as I could not to inhale his scent, knowing that not only was that pathetic and embarrassing, but also I'd never stop smelling it otherwise. I did take note, though, of how strong he was now. He wasn't a bodybuilder of any kind, but he was certainly less bony and more defined.

I had to hold back a whine as I felt him let go of me, because I didn't want to leave his warm embrace but also because I didn't think I could stand to look at his face anymore without losing any and all semblance of my cool.

Still, I let him release me, and even then he didn't go far. We only stood inches apart, and my whole body was practically numb at the proximity. It also didn't help that I had to tilt my head up to see his face— It made me feel extremely submissive, and I could already feel myself starting to shrink.

Whether he was amused at that or just at me in general, the feeling I got was the same.

"Sera tells me you've been busy..." He paused, seemingly searching for the right word, though I could tell he already had it on the tip of his tongue. "Modeling?"

I closed my eyes with a sigh. "It was one job for some obscure European magazine, no one in the country's probably ever heard of it... It's not that big of a deal."

Spencer huffed a laugh. "You sound embarrassed..."

How was I supposed to respond to that? If I lied and told him I wasn't embarrassed, he'd figure it out, and if I told him the truth? I'd still be screwed. Honestly, my best bet was changing the subject.

Though, maybe it wasn't— When I asked him about his travels for work, he ignored it and responded with, "Ah, so you are embarrassed."

"N— I am not!"

"You changed the subject so fast I barely had time to blink... There's nothing to be ashamed of, Honeybee, I don't know why you'd—"

"Look, dude, I'm not ashamed, and I'm certainly not changing the subject. We were on the subject of jobs. So there."

I was aware of how childish I sounded, but I stood my ground nonetheless. And thankfully Spencer seemed to let it go, though not without amplifying that amused sparkle in his eye.

"Okay... Well, I've got some more people to see, but, uh... I'll see you around. Maybe you can show me some of your work."

He didn't even give me time to protest. Though if he had, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to get any words out what with that goddamned face he had, twisted and sculpted into all these beautiful ways that were designed specifically to make me a blubbering hot mess.

I could only gather the courage to nod in response, though he'd turned his back and walked away by the time I got it out.

———

All things considered, I'd managed to avoid him for the majority of the wedding festivities. I focused all my energy on being happy to see my best friend get married, and likewise it seemed that Spencer was inclined to do the same.

He walked his sister down the aisle, and seeing them both so happy truly made my heart sing. To think I'd known them since we were all kids more or less, and now they were both successful, beautiful human beings... It warmed me to my core, and despite the other flames that stung my insides at seeing Spencer in his tux, thing were going swimmingly.

That being said, we were just about two hours into the reception, and there was absolutely nothing stopping me from begging Seraphina to put me out of my misery.

Except maybe pints upon pints of alcohol.

In hindsight, that may not have been a good idea, though. Because as much as the open bar had it benefits, it also hated me. It was mostly my fault, because I was stupid enough to forget that I get frisky when I'm drunk, but that didn't stop me from blaming the bartender for continuing to serve me.

I wasn't quite at the point of all-out inebriation, but I was definitely toeing the line between tipsy flirting and total disaster.

And when Spencer came over to ask me to dance, I knew I was doomed.

I didn't find myself caring about what he was saying, only the fact that he was there, in front of me, putting his hands on me and breathing in the same air that I was putting out. My entire body buzzed, and while I would have panicked otherwise, my tipsy brain welcomed the tingle and made me a bit bolder.

"You enjoying yourself tonight?" he asked, like he couldn't already tell that I was having the time of my life.

"No way. You suck at dancing." The joke rolled off my tongue with ease, a product of years spent teasing him for countless things.

And just like all those times before, he rolled his eyes and then immediately flashed an affectionate smile all the same.

I should have stopped there, maybe tried to do something a bit more romantic like teach him how to dance... Placing his hands and fixing his posture, taking the time to gracefully have an excuse for exploring his body with my hands...

But romance took a backseat when I pressed myself in even closer to him and hummed just under his jawline. "Mmm, but I bet you're good at other things..."

I felt his hands grip my waist just a little tighter, and his throat visibly twitched. "How much have you had to drink, Honeybee?"

"Spencer," I whined, pressing my face into his neck. "Don't tell me you're turning me down, please..."

I could tell by the way he was touching me, his hands wavering and undecided, and the way his heartbeat thrummed loudly and quickly against my own that he wanted nothing more than to entertain my desires.

The thought made me quiver and press further into him. I kissed his jawline tenderly, silently begging him to whisk me away and finally make me his, but it broke my heart a little to feel him peel away from me.

When he looked into my eyes though, I swore the gleam in his own is what put me back together. It could have been the liquor swimming around in my body that made me feel lightheaded, but when Spencer lifted my chin with his fingers and looked me over, I knew that wasn't it. It was wholeheartedly, without a doubt, him.

"Tell you what... You get sobered up by the end of the night, and maybe I'll come find you."

I wanted to nod, but his gentle grip on my chin held me steady—At least until he glided his fingertips down my throat and over my shoulder. Then I downright slumped forward with a whine and a weak nod that seemed to make him smile.

"Thank you for the dance," he said earnestly, leaning forward to press the lightest of kisses to my temple.

Just like that he was gone, and I wanted him back almost immediately.

———

And so the night dragged on, and the longer I sobered up the more it dawned on me what the fuck just happened— What the fuck was going to happen, too, if I played my cards right.

It didn't help that I could practically feel Spencer's eyes on me the whole time. Probably to make sure I really wasn't drinking anymore, a fact that only made this feel more real.

On top of it all, I was starting to lose count of the amount of men here who were trying to buy me drinks. Even if the one man I really wanted tonight hadn't given me a deal, I still wouldn't have accepted them, if only for the pathetic fact that I would have been trying to catch his attention instead.

So much for trying to convince myself I wasn't in love with him...

Was that really what it was? It had to be, right?

Either way, I was determined to find out, and that meant declining every flirtatious offer to drink and dance.

Unfortunately, Seraphina seemed to notice, even on the one day in her entire life she shouldn't have been thinking about anyone but herself. "You're not having fun," she pouted, plopping down next to me and handing me a shot. "Have fun."

I laughed and set the tiny glass down on the table. "I am having fun, I'm just... tired. And being hungover tomorrow does not sound fun."

"Mmm," she responded, visibly suspicious.

I didn't really know what to say to her to convince her not to be though, so I grabbed her hand and smiled. "You're having fun though, right? 'Cause I will not hesitate to kick someone's ass if you're not."

With a bellowing laugh mildly tainted with the smell of champagne, Seraphina squeezed my hand and leaned in close. "I'm having the best time. I couldn't be happier."

"Well, good. You deserve it."

After a small moment of silent shared smiles, my best friend glanced over elsewhere and then back to me with that look in her eye that kind of scared me.

And her words were even scarier... "So, you talk to Spencer at all tonight?"

"Uh— Yeah... Briefly."

"Mhmm... Y'know, I saw you two dancing together earlier. You seemed reeeally close..."

There I was, getting defensive in front of a Reid sibling for the second time that night. And just like before, I was awful at being subtle. "Sera, stop it! It was just a dance..."

"Bullshit! He had his hands all over you, and he had that gross-ass, dreamy-ass look in his eye! He so wants to sleep with you!"

"Sera!" I gently shoved her and tried not to smile at the goofy smile she had plastered on her face.

"Am I wrong?"

"I... I don't..."

"Ha! I'm not wrong!"

The defeated look in my eye did nothing to disconfirm her story.

"So, what's stopping you from letting him?"

I went wide-eyed. "Se—You... You seriously would... You're okay with this? It doesn't... gross you out?"

There were a lot of things I could have seen Seraphina do in that moment, but pinching and yelling at me were not any of them. "Y/N! You idiot! I've been trying to get you two together for years! If I knew all it took was me getting married, I would have accepted Theo Decker's proposal..."

"Wa— In fifth grade? Sera, that wasn't—"

"I know, but you get what I mean! You two are so painfully attracted to each other, it physically hurts me. It's actually disgusting, but if it means there's a chance that you might get to be my sister? I say go for it."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You... You really mean that?"

"What, you think I'd joke about that?"

Everything that she conveyed to me within the look in her eyes, her words, and the squeezing of her hand over mine told me she was sincere.

"I love you, you know," I told her just as sincerely.

Her smile was as radiant as ever, but the teasing tone in her voice was enough to make me scowl again. "Right back at'cha, Honeybee. Just do me a favor and don't tell me any details. I don't wanna know."

I stuck my tongue out at her, followed by a short shove. "Oh, and as soon as you get back from your honeymoon? I'm kicking your ass for telling him about that nude shoot I did for that magazine..."

She only grinned. "Why? I think I did you a favor..."

I rolled my eyes at her, but in the end, I guess she was right.

———

I shouldn't have been pacing. Really, it was pretty fucking embarrassing the way I walked in circles around my hotel room, waiting for a knock at the door or a text message on my phone, or something to let me know that Spencer had really meant what he said and was on his way to come find me.

I didn't have a single drink after we danced, and I swear to God, if he made me go through this entire night all nervous without the liquor to calm me down, for nothing? I was going to kill him tomorrow.

Later today... Whatever.

The point? I was well and truly ready to feel him taking up my personal space, and I was going to feel like a real idiot if I waited around and prepped and everything, only for him not to show. The funny thing was, it was almost two in the morning, and I would have stayed up until the sun rose for him.

Thank God he had the decency to save me the trouble.

A short two-rap knock on the door made me jump, but I ran at it full-speed, flinging the large wooden panel open and letting its momentum blow cool wind over my body. And I needed it, too.

Because standing right in front of me was Spencer Reid in all his semi-exhausted glory. His outfit was loosened, buttons undone and bowtie untied, hanging limp around his neck. His hair sat wild atop his head and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin. Maybe that last part sounded gross, but looking at him? It was anything but.

Especially when he flashed me that damned smirk. "Someone's eager..."

I tried not to sound as dumbfounded by his presence as I felt. "Well, you made me a good offer I couldn't refuse. Excuse me for being excited."

"And here I thought all this time you hated me, Honeybee..."

"That would be easier, wouldn't it?"

His grin transformed into a full-on beaming smile then, and it only made my skin feel warmer and my heart beat faster. I returned his smile with my own, so genuinely happy to see him again after all this time, and with the brightest show of happiness I'd ever seen.

Turns out, smiling like a lovesick idiot was all I was capable of.

"Are you... gonna let me in?"

The low suggestive tone in his voice had me springing into action, stepping back and allowing him the space to come in. And though he had plenty of room, Spencer still decided to brush his body over mine as he passed. His eyes bore into my own as he gently kicked the door shut and enveloped us in a dimness that came from cheap hotel lighting.

Still, I was unable to speak, and hardly able to even breathe, with each passing second.

And then, his hands were on my waist, pulling me to him with a softness that matched the whisper in his throat as he said, "C'mere..." Looking up at him then, his fingers burning holes through the thin fabric of my dress while he looked back down me, eyes swimming in tender desire... It almost didn't even feel real.

And it certainly didn't feel real when he leaned in, one of his hands coming up to touch my face while the other pressed me firmly against him.

The moment his lips touched mine, I was gone. I positively melted into him, so much so that it felt like I was just becoming a part of him entirely, losing myself in the moment and unwilling to let it go.

Even when he sighed against my lips and parted his own to kiss me deeper, I just followed suit and let him take the lead. We moved together as one, fluidly and with as much eagerness was possible. I'd wanted to get a taste of him for so long, and he obviously felt the same way, what with the thorough and precise exploring his tongue did with my own. It shot warmth throughout my whole being, and my legs threatened to buckle underneath me from how weak they felt.

Spencer seemed to understand what was happening to me, because as soon as I'd thought it, he was just as quick to literally sweep me off my feet, scooping me up bridal style and carrying me over to the large bed in the middle of the room.

"I know we're at a wedding and all, but geez," I laughed, watching as he laid me down gently and crawled over my body. "A little much?"

He only rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to be romantic..."

"Mmm, I think you're just being an overachiever. As per usual."

That remark earned me a pinning of my wrists above my head, and the fire that erupted in my very core at my current position only cemented that this was very real.

Spencer grinned, his hips coming down to roll over mine teasingly. He spoke nice and slowly, his voice slicing through my soul like smooth butter. "Oh, Honeybee, I'll show you an overachiever..."

Once again I was rendered speechless. Not like I expected to be talking his ear off or anything, but words genuinely escaped me.

Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind. In fact, he knew exactly what to do next, and it made me even hungrier for him than ever before.

He captured my lips in another dizzying kiss, his hands still flexing over my wrists to keep them steady. I moaned softly and writhed against him, and though I would have liked to say that it was a conscious choice to coax him to give me more, really it was just me being unable to handle the fact that this was actually happening.

Actually, if not for the overwhelming and familiar scent of him, I would have thought I was only imagining it.

But alas, here he was in all his floral peppermint glory, grinding his hips down into mine and kissing me like I'd never been kissed before, driving me mad with each adept movement.

Thankfully he seemed to get as lost in the moment as I was, because he loosened my wrists in his grip, and I broke free, flying my hands in between us and down to his belt.

His lips pulled away from mine with a soft smack, a smile forming smugly upon them. "Have you no patience?"

As my fingers fumbled with the metal and leather, I pressed my nose to his and quickly pecked his mouth. "I thought we already established that I have no patience the moment I opened the door..."

"Fair... But still..."

Spencer grabbed my hands again, moving them to my sides and then hiking my dress up slowly. His skin was hot against my own, and it took everything I had not to break down begging for him.

And then he spoke again, his lips barely grazing mine as he did. "Teasing you is so much fun..."

I couldn't really explain what sound escaped me then, but it reminded me of a disgruntled animal, erupting from my throat and getting muffled the moment I took my hands and brought his face to mine. I kissed him fervently as his hands matched the intense nature of my affections— With every soft groan I gave him, he returned it with an inch higher up my leg, until eventually he was toying with the hem of my underwear.

Unable to take it anymore, I gave in and mumbled the most desperate plea I could think of. (Like I had to think that hard...)

"Spencer, please..."

I half expected him to tease me again, but this time I felt him tremble over my body. His fingers slipped under the satin of my underwear and he sighed into my mouth. "God, how could I ever say no to you..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth did he spread me apart with his fingertips, getting a feel for me and a broken sigh falling from his tongue and onto my own. I captured it and kissed him with as much precision as I could while under the influence of his hands working wonders.

Truly, his hands hand a magic of their own that should have been considered as an eighth Wonder of the World. They flexed in all the right places, splitting me open and caressing the most sensitive parts of me, simultaneously breaking me apart and putting me back together...

God, and those was only his hands...

The thought of what else he had waiting for me made me cry out into his mouth, though I'm sure it also had to do with the fact that his fingers were curling expertly inside me and summoning an orgasm that I knew would satisfy us both.

I almost cried out again when his lips left mine, but then they travelled to my neck and paid it the most glorious attention. The alternation of his fingers and his tongue on different spots of my body had me in shambles, and it took no longer than a few seconds to snap.

"Fuck, that's my girl," Spencer grumbled into my neck, helping me through my orgasm. "That's it, honey..."

What I wouldn't have given to hear him talk to me like that until the end of time... His words, their tone and praise seeping into my skin and bringing my soul to life... Coupled with his soft hands and his even softer breath fanning over my neck, I was just about ready to ask him to keep talking to me, to say my name and never stop.

He pulled away though, removing his hand from my lower half and bringing it up to his mouth, and I had the feeling my request wouldn't be a problem.

Spencer's eyes rolled back and his tongue gathered my arousal off his long, well-endowed fingers. And though I could hear his groan well and clear, I felt it more than anything. It reverberated through my body and brought me more to life in a way I never thought imaginable.

No one had ever made me feel that way with one single sound, and that's how I knew.

I thought I knew it from the start—from when we were growing up—that I wanted to be near him forever. But It was always just a silly dream, something I was never quite able to reach, and as I got older and we rarely saw each other, it got harder to even imagine anymore.

Now I didn't have to imagine.

Spencer Reid was right in front of me, touching me, tasting me, verbally praising me with sounds I'd only ever dreamed of...

I wanted him to have his moment, because I was positive he'd wanted this just as much as I did, but this sappy sort of revelation I was having made it nearly impossible to not be utterly wrapped up in him, and I wanted more.

So I wiggled and adjusted myself underneath him before grabbing his hand and placing it over my heart. His eyes widened softly at the sight of me, and I knew then that he was taking the time to memorize my face, and the image of his hand resting at my chest, right where my heart was encased beneath bones, flesh, and fabric.

"I could look at you forever," he whispered then.

I would have been ashamed to admit that I whimpered when he said it, but the way he looked at me afterwards made me feel the exact opposite.

He smiled, using his other hand to come up and touch my face. "You want it bad, don't you, Honeybee?"

I didn't even argue with him this time. My head nodded and my hands reached out to pull him closer. "I want you... More than I've ever wanted anything."

Before he leaned down to kiss me, I could have swore he looked like he was going to shed a tear. The duality of him, his ability to be all teasing and cocky one second and then reduced to a lovesick mess at just a few words from me the next, made my heart sing.

And it kept singing, a sweet, steady melody as Spencer kissed me and touched me like he meant it.

Only this time, he didn't pause or tease me with theatrics. He went straight for the kill, fetching a condom from his pants pocket and then sliding the material down, all while keeping me trapped under his embrace. I welcomed it naturally, humming happily into his neck and jawline and anywhere I could reach as he got us both fully undressed and situated, until finally he had the condom on and his hands rested nicely on either side of my head.

"Promise not to sting me?"

I laughed, draping my arms over his shoulders and flashing him a wink. "Mmm, only if you promise to give it to me good..."

"Deal."

He slowly pushed into me then, and the stretch was far more satisfying than his fingers, though I was in no position to complain either way. If he was even half as skilled with his hips as he was with his hands (which I had no doubts about whatsoever), then neither of us had anything to worry about.

It didn't take long for us to find our rhythm, but I didn't have time to think about that. I was so consumed with just the feeling of him being everywhere that technicalities didn't matter.

That being said, the technicalities were really fucking good.

His hips snapped into mine with sharp precision, and I felt it deep within my bones. My cunt clung around him willingly and accordingly, as did my legs, which hooked over his waist as I dug my heels into his ass.

Meanwhile Spencer grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head again, this time interlocking our fingers and then leaning down to kiss me deeply. It was met with my undying welcome, of course, but with the way he was fucking me, deep and with a devotion that nearly exploded my heart, I couldn't help but whine out for more.

His name was all I could manage.

"What do you want, Honeybee?" he cooed, holding himself deep inside me and grinding his hips in small circles that made it harder to breathe.

"M—More... I..."

"Can you be more specific?"

How he could be such a cocky little shit in this moment I wasn't sure, and it frustrated me to no end. He knew damn well what I wanted, and I knew just the thing that would make him give it to me.

I have him the biggest pout I could, also whining out the most pathetic, "More," in my arsenal. And with a roll of my hips up into his, I gasped out at how deep he got, and whined out again.

"Spoiled brat," Spencer grunted in defeat, retreating only to slam into me at full force.

My small gasps and cries turned into full-blown howls of searing pleasure as he fucked me then. My head tipped back and my back arched slightly, exposing my neck and chest to him, and he took it as an invitation to lean down and put his mouth anywhere he could reach. I was sure there would be small nicks and bruises littered over my skin the next morning, and just thinking of everyone seeing them, seeing Spencer's mark on me, made it harder to prolong the inevitable.

I came with a shout, flexing my hands into his as my body tensed then relaxed, over and over while he whispered praises into my skin. He followed soon after, shoving his face into my neck and muffling the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard as he came.

By then his hands had loosened, so I snuck my own away from his and brought them over to hug him close. One hand knotted into his hair while the other grazed over his back. The thin sheen of sweat forming over his skin once again was more enticing than it probably sounded, but I loved it all the same. I felt him relax and bring his arms down to rest at my sides, his fingertips dancing lightly over my skin and giving me goosebumps.

Then out of nowhere, he said something that confused and mildly panicked me. "I thought you said you wouldn't sting me..."

I pulled away to try and look at his face, loosening my grip on his body. "A—Am I hurting you? I'm sorry..."

He laughed though, peppering tiny kisses up my neck until he got to my jaw. "You're not hurting me, Honeybee... You've just... stung my heart, that's all."

"I... Is that a bad thing?"

"It's a strange thing..."

He looked at me like I was the one thing on the planet he adored, but his words sounded different.

I raised an eyebrow. "You're not helping me understand..."

With another laugh, Spencer Kissed my cheek and rolled off of me, settling for laying on his side and turning me to face him. "Do you remember how I gave you your nickname?"

Despite my confusion about all of this, I entertained him with a huffed laugh. "Yeah, I spilled honey all over my shorts without realizing it, and I had ants all over me in a matter of minutes. I was terrified."

"I was highly amused."

I shoved him. "Yeah, dork, I know you were! You and Seraphina both thought it was the funniest thing on the planet, and then your mom had to come out and spray me down with a hose before I came back in the house."

Spencer barked a laugh, and I wanted to punch it right out of his mouth.

"Tell me again why this is relevant to our current situation?" I reminded him with and sigh, already over his antics.

Thankfully he seemed to take pity on me; He reached a hand out and played with a strand of my hair, smiling even brighter than when I opened the door for him. "That's when I started to feel it. You were just... so cute all angry at me and Sera for laughing, and it... It changed everything."

"You know, that would be more romantic if I hadn't been covered in bugs," I responded with a laugh.

"It's true! And it confused the hell out of me, because how was I supposed to cope with the fact that I actually had a crush on my little sister's best friend like some stupid cliché? You were always so feisty after that, too, and it certainly didn't help... And when I graduated and went off to college, I thought... I thought there was no chance you would ever be able to break the heart you'd managed to steal."

He swiped his thumb gently over my bottom lip and smiled, his eyes going all tear-y again. It sent butterflies through my whole body.

"I would never even dream of breaking your heart, Spencer..."

Our foreheads pressed together then, and the unwavering adoration in his voice when he spoke made me forget all prior confusion and minor embarrassment over re-living our origins.

All that mattered was that he was here, holding me in his arms and making me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

"I know you won't, Honeybee."

———

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glowingbadger · 3 years

Note

Hi it’s me, crawling through the window. Would it be possible to get a crumb of arranged marriage w/ Hubert? His line w/ Dorothea about being willing to get married for politics sake has fueled my brain rot for him.

Good God I need to secure my windows-

I mean HELLO FRIEND ANON YES IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE

Lol actually though, I have been thinking about this for Hubie since we all started chatting about that arranged marriage stuff! I think it's a perfect concept for him~

This like... got weird while I was writing it though?? Idk man hahaha it ended up on the less-spicy side of what I usually write, and with some very weird dialogue in places... Idk, I hope y'all like it. Maybe if there's interest, I'll follow this up eventually with a more smut-focused piece?

I've been traveling and working so much lately that I just don't even know what writing is anymore or how it works hahaha

TW: A brief mention of non-con

Hubert (FE3H) x Reader ("wife," neutral pronouns)

Arranged Marriage - semi spicy i guess?

"Frankly, he's a pain," Linhardt must be able to see your surprise and confusion written across your face. He goes on, "He's reliable and capable, of course, but also the most persistent nag you'll ever meet. Actually, no-" he glances upward as though to cross reference his own thoughts, "No, her Majesty is worse. But Hubert is a close second to be sure. Always on and on about sleep schedules and proper nutrition and etiquette..." He sighs and closes the massive tome on his lap, as though to close the conversation with it, "frankly, he's an insufferable mother hen. Does that help?"

"Well, it's... Not what I expected," you admit with a shrug, "but thank you all the same."

It's been several weeks since the papers binding you in marriage to Hubert Von Vestra had been signed- and this alone had sufficed. No ceremony, no grand ball, just paperwork and a handshake with your father. A handshake that ensured that, even under the Empire's unification, he would maintain nominal control over his considerable portion of land, and in return, would swear absolute loyalty to her Majesty. It was a beneficial arrangement for all parties, and you were not ignorant to the part you played. You were hardly even a bargaining chip- moreso, a hostage.

Your new husband had made no secret of what manner of harm may befall you if your family were to renege on their deal. Fortunately, you know your father to be a reliable coward, so you have no reason to believe he would be bold enough to step out of line.

Hubert Von Vestra is a terrifying man. A zealously loyal man of storied cruelty and a frigid disposition. His frame looms over you whenever he's near, and though he's hardly placed a finger on you since you'd been given over to him, his mere presence is... arresting. There's a sort of charisma to him that's equal parts frightening and fascinating. Perhaps it's madness brought on by your circumstances, but you can't help wanting to glimpse just the slightest bit into that brilliant, ever churning mind.

Unsurprisingly, he has been resistant to your attempts to understand him. He hardly indulges you in small talk, and if you were the paranoid sort, you'd think he intentionally makes himself busy when you're around. Eventually, perhaps out of sheer stubbornness, you'd settled on a routine of bringing coffee to his study adjoined to your bedroom in the evenings. He'd been visibly surprised the first time. It wasn't until the fourth night that he'd given a curt "thank you." About two weeks in, he'd actually sat back in his chair and laid down his quill pen to receive the cup from your hands. After a month, he'd leveled his narrow gaze at you and said,

"I cannot begin to fathom what satisfaction you glean from playing 'maid' to me."

"Well, I, uhm," you hadn't expected him to address you so directly, but you managed to say, "You... work so hard, I wanted to do something for you, I suppose."

His expression is inscrutable as he replies,

"You are aware that my work was much the same before you arrived."

"I am," you say softly, "But- all the same..." you trail off, and Hubert seems content to let the matter rest. And so you leave him be amidst his reports and correspondence, coffee at his side on the desk. Yet for as unproductive as your exchange might have seemed, it does leave you with an idea. The thought to learn about the man from those who knew him long before your arrival at the capitol.

Your investigation into the true character of your husband does not stop with Linhardt. In fact, his testimony only leaves you with further questions. But perhaps the others would say otherwise; perhaps the United Empire's most up and coming crest scholar simply inspires maternal behavior. This has to be the case- you simply can't imagine that the notoriously ruthless heir of the even more notorious Vestra lineage would be so... Doting.

And yet the more you learn of him, the more contradictory he seems.

Caspar's take is much like Linhardt's- a picture of a man far closer to a school marm than any assassin or master of torture. Ferdinand seems both smitten and incensed by him, oscillating wildly between the two. Then eventually, to your shock, Bernadetta takes the initiative to speak to you about Hubert of her own accord.

"I'm, uh, really so-sorry to bother you!" she approaches with arms drawn close to her chest and eyes resolutely avoiding yours, "I- I just heard that you were... asking about Hubert, so, I, uh..."

It takes some time to prompt her further. You assure her again and again- no, this isn't intrusive at all- yes, you'd very much like to hear her perspective- no, you're not mad at her. In truth, you're endlessly intrigued about what a gentle soul like Bernadetta would have to say about a man feared across the continent. Finally, she manages,

"He's... actually really kind!" she blurts out, as though the words would abandon her if she gave them the window of opportunity. Your eyebrows raise slightly.

"You think so..?"

"Yes, completely-!" she stammers, "I know he's super, super scary, and powerful and spooky and cold and, uh, all of that. But still," her voice falters as she continues, "He only scolds people when they do something dangerous. And he only hurts people to protect others. I... I know he's done some te-terrible things. But... he's always been nice to Bernie," finally, she meets your eyes with an imploring look in hers, "So, uh, I'm really grateful to him. And I think it would be really nice for someone to reach out to him. If... if that's not too weird or anything. For you."

You smile warmly and nod,

"Thank you, Bernadetta. I know it can't be easy for you to come to me with all of this, but... I'd like to try, if I can."

The opportunity doesn't come in the way you expect.

At first, it seems the night will proceed like many others before. You bring a cup of coffee to your husband's desk, setting it down quietly so as to not disturb him. He's silent, but this is common enough, so you head back to the bedroom to undress for the evening. All nights prior, he would lay beside you long after you'd settled in, then rise to resume work in the morning before you woke up- all the while never allowing your bodies to interact in any way.

Tonight, just as you're about to close the door to Hubert's study behind you, long fingers catch around your wrist, visibly startling you.

It's the most physical contact you've had to-date, but he only says,

"One moment."

You whip around to face him, a touch of anxiety evident in your eyes. It's clear in his own that he notices, but if anything, he only seems amused. He steps forward, his taller frame menacing you as he speaks,

"I understand that you have been busying yourself with some manner of investigation as of late."

It takes a moment for his meaning to reach you. When it does, your face burns and you can't bring yourself to meet his scrutinizing gaze,

"Oh, uhm..."

"I assure you, my dearest wife," he says with barely concealed venom, "anything that I do not wish for you to know will be kept from you. Aside from which, your efforts thus far have proven amateurish at best."

Something seems off about his tone. You could understand if he felt uncomfortable or hesitant about your efforts to learn about him, but this seems far more grave, more... business-like. He steps towards you once more, and you step back in turn. Yet before long, you feel your legs bump the edge of the bed. A gloved hand trails a fingertip down your jawline to your chin, then urges you to look up at him.

"Whatever you are planning, my dear, I promise it will be fruitless. You had best rethink how you spend your days before your actions bring you to harm."

"No, I-" your brow creases deeply, your face burns, your body burns hotter and you don't want to consider why, "I've just been trying to learn about you as a person, nothing else. We're- we're married, after all, so..."

He gives an abrupt, dry laugh.

"Ah, so I am to believe that you've been interrogating my allies out of some misguided affection, is that it?"

"Hubert, just listen to me!" for a moment, you feel bolstered, defiant, and you straighten your posture, "You won't tell me the first thing about you- the only way to learn so much as your favorite color is to ask someone who's known you for a decade!"

Briefly, he does seem to consider your words. But his eventual reply is as aloof as any prior,

"If you're no spy or politician, then you're worse- a fool." he says, and before you can respond, he's seized both of your wrists and pushed you back onto the bed. For a moment, the room spins and your voice leaves you. A shrewd eye watches you with cruel condescension as he pins you against the sheets.

"I should think that you'd be well aware what I'm capable of," he nearly whispers, "I personally ensured that the rumors spread through your father's territory and further still. Do you think that anyone would even dare lift a finger to help you if I chose to seek retribution for this recent behavior?" He draws nearer, his grip tighter at your wrists, "Perhaps as punishment, I'll simply take my pleasure from you by force."

Your lips tighten, you take a breath. Then, meeting his gaze directly, you reply,

"You won't."

His visible eye narrows.

"And what evidence do you have to prompt such unfounded confidence? Perhaps you have crafted a flattering falsehood of me in your mind," a mocking smirk curls his lips, "Am I a misunderstood sentimental sort to you, then? A sad, lonely man for you to save?"

You scowl, though you suspect it looks more like a pout to him.

"I don't know what I think of you yet- not completely. But I don't pity you like that, and I don't think you're sad or lonely. I know you're not."

For the first time, it seems that you've caught him off guard. That frigid mask falters for just a moment, and you go on before he can replace it,

"You're surrounded by people who care about you. I've seen it for myself. Whatever you've had to do in the service of your ideals- it hasn't kept the people around you from wanting to know and understand you, even if it's despite you."

Hubert is silent for a moment. His gaze bores into you like he thinks he'll discover some hidden layer if he can just keep digging. Then, he sighs,

"How did I ever become bound to such a troublesome spouse..."

When you wrest your arms from his grasp, his hands fall away with little resistance, and you think that perhaps he had never truly intended to keep you in place by force to begin with. He moves to leave the bed, but your fists find the front of his clothing and tug him back down to you.

You press your lips to his without hesitation, and you can feel him inhale sharply, his entire body rigid above you. His lips are surprisingly soft, his scent like coffee and old parchment, and though your heart threatens to burst from your chest, you hold firmly to him by his clothes. Near imperceptibly, he leans down against you, and your fear, along with any remaining doubts, begin to dissolve. Knowing he won't pull away, you let your hands relax against him, running up his chest where you can feel his own pulse pounding. It's so human, so entirely reasonable and normal. Now, at last, Hubert Von Vestra is merely a man of flesh and bone.

Your tongue meets his naturally, your lips parting in time with his as your kiss deepens to a fevered pace. One hand reaches that sharp, handsome jawline, reveling in the erotic sensation of his mouth moving against yours. And yet, all the while, his hands remain staunchly on the bed beside you. He doesn't touch you- doesn't even let his body meet yours.

It's impossible to tell whether passion or madness drives you to bring your teeth to his lower lip, a single insistent bite communicating desire mounting faster than you can contain. And for a moment, you sense something new; a sound catches in Hubert's throat, a reaction he fights to stifle. Then, he pulls away. His pale skin is tinted a rare shade of pink, and his hair is ruffled out of place enough to reveal both narrowed eyes. His cloak has spilled around his frame to surround you both, and somewhere in your frazzled mind, you imagine that you're caught in some beautiful, velvet-lined trap.

"I- must... return to my work." Hubert says stiffly. He pushes up from you and turns away, leaving you still flustered on the bed behind him. You sit upright, holding your arms tight around your body as you watch him straighten his hair and clothes.

"You, uhm..." your face reddens still as you search for the right words, "you could... join me in bed, if you liked."

Hubert turns to the door of his study, speaking without daring to even glance your way,

"Anything that you offer to me now will be born from the impulse to survive. I have been bargained with before." His shoulders slack just slightly, his voice low and sober, "The proudest nobleman will even sell off his own child to a monster if he feels it will spare him its teeth."

You open your mouth to protest, then shut it without a word. You feel that you know your mind and heart, even in this moment, but you lack the words to convince a man like this. In a feeble attempt, you murmur,

"You don't frighten me, Hubert. Not anymore."

He half turns toward you, though his hand remains on the handle of his study door.

"You yourself said that you do not know what you think of me," he says, "As such, I will not lay a hand on you until the day that you do."

You stare down at your hands in your lap, barely registering the sound of the door clicking shut as he leaves you in the bedroom. No matter how you try to sort out your tangled thoughts, the memory of his lips on yours won't leave them. If anything, it eclipses any sense of reason, standing resolutely in the way of your path to clarity. Letting out a groaning sigh, you fall onto your back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as if it could offer you any advice.

What do I think about my own husband? You wonder, the thought nearly enough to make you laugh. Well for one, he's a pain.

#hubert von vestra #hubert x reader #fire emblem #feh #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader #fire emblem imagines #fire emblem fic #x reader

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marsbutterfly · 3 years

Note

ymir x shy!reader

The Confident Girl's Delight

Summary: Ymir spends day and night teasing you so nobody will ever find out about your secrets meetings.

Warning: NSFW!

Wattpad! | AO3!

“Come on, Y/N” Ymir purrs, her fingers resting on your chin as she eagerly brings your eyes to hers.

The chilly breeze hits you but it is not the reason why your hands begin to shake. You desperately start to look for a way to escape her but her arms block any chances you might have.

“Stop it, Ymir.” You say, feeling as your cheeks burn hotter than the fiery pits of hell. You don’t mean it of course and she can tell by the tone of your voice.

“Do you really want me to?” She asks, placing her lips against your ear before biting your skin gently and you wonder how the hell did you find yourself in this situation.

It wasn’t unusual for Ymir to flirt with you, she did it as you were walking into the shower or even when you had some kind of food in your mouth. Her biggest delight was making your cheeks burn and you knew it.

Nothing too serious, always a compliment here, a smack on your ass there. You know if you ever told her to stop with a serious tone in your voice, she would listen without a second thought but the question was: did you want her to stop?

No.

The truth is that between training and Krista, receiving Ymir’s attention was a privilege not many people could have.

Of course, along with the flirting came a bit of teasing: about your accent from the interior of Wall Rose or the way your hair doesn’t stick to your ponytail for too long before turning into a mess.

During one uneventful night, you sat in the dining hall by yourself. The voices around you were loud and yet you somehow managed to tune them all out.

Your thoughts race through your mind, the images of Ymir’s sweaty face after exercising still fresh in your head. The drops of water that come from her bottle and drip down her abdomen contrast with the light from the candles.

Your face burns and you use your left hand to fan it, hoping to cool yourself down. You chug on the water as if your life depended on it.

Suddenly, you are pulled away from your thoughts when a pair of hands make their way down your shoulders stopping an inch away from your breasts. You gasp, knowing exactly who those hands belonged to.

You silently beg for her to never stop touching you but sadly she sits by your side taking a massive bite out of your apple.

“Why do you always eat my food?” You whisper while looking down at your nearly empty plate. You move your lips around, your fingers won’t stop fidgeting and you can’t quite breath anymore. Her face comes close to yours, too close.

“Because everything that comes from you is more delicious.” Ymir says, a smirk creeping on the corner of her lips.

“Ymir, leave her alone!” Krista says while pushing the taller one away from you. She can’t help but laugh at the state you find yourself in and you feel her fingers brush against your chin.

“Meet me in the closet by the Commander’s Office in one hour.” She says, pulling the petite, blonde girl alongside as they walk away towards the exit of the massive room.

You sigh, scared of what she could possibly want. But alongside the fear comes a brand new feeling: excitement.

The minutes go by slowly, almost as if the clock feels bad for you but eventually the time has come to face her in the closet.

The torches illuminate the otherwise dark hall and your steps echo quietly but to you it sounds much like a titan’s sprint after humans: ground shaking.

You knock on the door only to realize she isn’t there yet and a wave of relief washes over your body. Of course the feeling doesn’t last long since suddenly you feel Ymir’s hand on your back as she pushes you inside gently. In a more gentle manner than usual at least.

The lock clicks behind her and she pushes you against the wall, her arm wraps around your waist as she spins you around prompting you to face her. Her nose brushes against yours gently and you can’t hold back a little moan.

A delighted smile on her lips as she plants them on your neck, her hand moving up from your waist to your breasts underneath the shirt. When Ymir’s cold fingers brush against your nipple, you feel your heartbeat pulsating on your clit.

“I missed you.” She whispers before you feel the tip of her warm tongue tracing the outside of your ear. She pinches your skin and you cry out, squirming against her touch while silently pleading for more.

“I missed you too.” You say in response, your voice dying in your throat.

You cross your legs in hopes of keeping yourself from getting soaking wet but once Ymir’s hand enters your underwear, you are done for. You feel like at that moment you could melt faster than butter above fire.

“Ask for it, baby.” She says, her lips meeting yours for a split second before she resumes the attacks on your neck. Your body reacts to her actions immediately and you know the marks tomorrow will be bad.

“I…” You stutter quietly, “I want you to touch me.”

“Where? Here?” She asks, sliding two fingers inside of you barely in but deep enough to pull all the wetness you attempted so hard to keep locked in.

“Yes. Fuck.” You respond, digging your nails on her skin. Her now slippery fingers rub circles on your clit, dragging quiet sobs out of you.

“Oh to hear you curse is such a blessing.” She giggles and you hiss in response. “Hold onto me.”

You do as you are told, holding onto her for dear life in such a way not even a higher power would be able to bring you two apart. Her fingers slip past your clit making their way down towards your entrance. They slip in with ease and you gasp, biting Ymir’s shoulder in an attempt to keep yourself quiet.

With her free hand, she pulls your mouth away from her skin and brings it close to hers. She bits the right corner of her lips gently before going in for a sloppy kiss. The tip of her tongue brushes against yours as it asks for permission to deepen the action.

This isn’t the first time you’ve had a moment like this with Ymir, in fact she has fucked you in places you could never have imagined: during dinner with all the other soldiers around, in the showers after practice.

Ymir moves her fingers in and out gently while her thumb brushes circles on your clit. It doesn’t take long for her to find your g-spot and she takes full advantage of the situation presented to her.

Uncertain, you decide to be bold and with one of your hands you reach underneath her shirt. You can feel every little bit of her abs and you decide to stay there for a moment. Sweat drips down her skin as the room begins to feel stuffy.

Once you touch her breast, your hand shakes slightly as if you don’t know what to do from here on out. So she gently places her free hand above yours, never taking her fingers out from inside of you, in fact, she begins to speed up her actions.

“Squeeze it, like this.” She says, applying a bit of pressure to your hand. You do as you are told once again and your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

Once she curls her fingers inside of you, it doesn’t take long for you to reach an orgasm. The tip of her middle and ring digits brush against your g-spot while her thumb never stops contact with your clit. She always knew exactly how to touch you to make you melt quickly so nobody would ever find you.

You moan against her lips, feeling as your body spasms and your legs close shut, her fingers still inside of you. It’s involuntary and you feel bad because you don’t want to hurt her but for once she doesn’t make a comment about how tight you are when you come so you simply stay quiet.

She pulls out from inside of you, gliding her wet fingers above your lips. You try to look away but in the end you open your mouth, tasting yourself on her skin. You make sure to lick it clean before she pulls it out, drying them on her shirt.

“Same time tomorrow?” You ask with a bold expression on your face and she snorts.

“Sure.” She replies, planting one final kiss to your lips before opening the door. She looks over her shoulder one last time, shooting you a deadly smile and you can barely hear it but she says “I love you”. The air around you smells like your pussy and all you want to do is bury your face in a pillow, hoping no one would know where it came from.

After a few minutes, you exit the room only to find the hallway to be completely empty and you thank God for it. As you walk back to your room, you still dream of Ymir’s touch on your skin and how it feels good to have her undivided attention.

Once you pass through the doors to your dorm room, a voice enters your ears and someone’s hand grabs your ass.

“Why are you blushing, Y/N?” Ymir asks, knowing damn well she is the reason why. You don’t say a word and simply hurry to your bed, pulling the covers above your head.

Her words are still fresh in your mind, even if you didn’t get to say it back. “I love you.” First you think it’s because she is scared you won’t reciprocate her feelings, which is not the case but eventually you realize she left in such a hurry because she was trying not to embarrass you.

You hear Krista’s disapproving voice but the words are muffled. All you can make out of it is “Leave her alone.”

But Ymir will never leave you alone, she loves to tease you in every possible way and you are grateful for it. Even if it’s the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you.

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bangtanshomura · 3 years

Text

PINK | 2/? | pjm

summary: A neighbor as pink and hopelessly romantic as you and an equally pink neighbor like Jimin (but without a thing or two in common), sounds almost perfect together, right?. The only problem? That you are madly in love with him but his tonalities are very different from yours.

pairing: park jimin x female reader.

genre: fluff, angst, (maybe in the future a little of smut? not so sure).

word count: 1992

warning: unrequited love, pinning, so much embarrassment, a looooot of pink hehe, hurt, some mxm with ot7, you know…it happens sometimes.

------

Pink, 'cause you are so very

“Sup with the face, sugar?” Seokjin’s voice pulls you back to reality. Or maybe was Jimin’s text.

“Jimin asked me if he should go on a date with the pretty girl of the coffee shop across the street”

“You are a pretty girl” He points you with a finger, looking at you harshly. “And Jimin always says stupid things, so please, don’t overthink this”

“But I'm not the pretty girl he would consider asking out on a date” your voice is almost a whisper, so genuinely hurt that Seokjin can't help the tug at his heart.

“Well, his loss, I’m telling you” He scoffs “He will see you someday—” Tucks a lock of hair behind your ear with an affectionate smile. “ like, really see you. And I hope it's not too late when that happens”

Everyone knows what a wonderful person you are, including Park Jimin.

The only person who apparently lacks this information is you.

And it's not that Seokjin has any feelings of hatred and contempt towards the now black-haired boy; but he didn’t appreciate the way he lured you to him and then pushed you away.

Actually, even if Namjoon thinks otherwise, he is absolutely certain that there is some reason why Jimin's colors look somewhat... dull.

There must be a reason why despite the subtle -quite obvious in Seokjin's opinion- attraction Jimin feels for you, he doesn't let it develop but also doesn't let it stop.

Seokjin just knows it's like that, it's a feeling,

“I love you so much Jinnie, but I don't want to talk about this anymore” You leave a small kiss in his cheek before you continue talking. “Are you coming for some unhealthy dinner tonight?”

“You know that we will, baby” The wink it throws at you makes you giggle “Namjoon will pick us up ten minutes before we close the store, safety an all, you know my man” You both laugh a little. “Any suggestions?”

“I'm craving a cheeseburger from McDonald’s”

“A cheeseburger from McDonald's will be” It’s a reality, they don’t know how to say no to you. And they don’t want to. “Now, help me with this arrangement, I have never met a bride as demanding as this girl. I swear”

______

"Just when I think you can't get any more idiotic, you come along and surprise me Jimin."

Yoongi’s raspy voice makes him roll his eyes.

“What are you talking about now?”

“You know what. Don’t play dumb with me” He signals his phone with a movement of the head and scolds him with his eyes. Translation: He read the messages. “You can’t keep doing this to her.”

Jimin looked out the window again, exchanging glances with the barista who batted her eyelashes flirtatiously, gifting him a smile that he returned with a smaller one of his own.

She's pretty, he had to admit that. But neither her flirtatious smile nor her long, stylish hair, managed to provoke anything in him.

Not like his small, pink, innocent neighbor.

A sigh left his lips and he returned his gaze to his phone.

“I know”

______

“Are we hungry or what?”

Namjoon enters the shop with his extra-large arms extended, prepare to wrap you two in a bear hug.

“We are always hungry; you already know that hun”

Seokjin takes his face in between his hands with so much delicacy that you want to cry but instead you fake a gagging noise that makes them chuckle and you smile fondly to the presence of their love.

“Let’s go before you suffocate me with so much PDA” You give them a weak smile walking towards the entrance, in a crestfallen manner.

The taller one knows there is something in your voice that doesn't fit the facade you want to sell him, so, he looks to his boyfriend direction with a raised brow and an interrogation mark painted on its face.

His boyfriend answers him with a silent lip movement, a name, clarifying the situation.

Of course, it had to be.

“I cross paths with Jungkook this morning”

“Really? How is he?” Your question doesn’t come as curious as his want’s to, but he keeps anyways.

“You know, hotter than before” Seokjin watches him curious while locking the gate of the flower shop, eyebrow arching and he clarifies his voice. “I might have invited him to dinner today”

Okay, he may not have invited him, but they did crossed paths in a convenience store while the younger one was carrying a bag full of banana milk.

But he will.

“…You did?”

The hesitation in your voice gives him a push.

“Yeah, I mean, is it wrong?”

————

You should have known.

How is it possible that a specimen like Jeon Jungkook exists and on top of that, he is single.

Damn Kim Namjoon and damn his twisted plan or whatever that goes through his prodigy brain.

“You could have warned me that he looked like that!”

“Boring” Namjoon prolonged the ‘o’ “I don’t see what’s wrong. He is hot, you are hot, he is single, you are single. A win-win situation if you ask me”.

“But I didn’t”.

“Irrelevant. We are having an amazing night y/n. You know that I’m not going to force you on a date with Jungkook but I want you to enjoy this moment with me, with us”.

“I am enjoying the moment, excuse you” You murmur.

“No your not. You think that I didn’t see the sadness in your eyes?”

“Nam…”

“No baby, not today” He takes a deep breath and looks at you with so much love and concern. “Please”

Deep inside, you know he is right, that you need a night of rest from the problem in your heart that has Park Jimin as its name.

Jungkook is funny, sweet, attentive and Namjoon isn't lying when he says the four of you are having a spectacular night.

You can see it in your best friend's eyes, the desperation to see you well, happy.

So, you agree.

“But!—” Namjoon waits for whatever that you are going to say “What the fuck with those tattoos? And the piercing? He can’t be real, you created him”

He lets out a thunderous laugh as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Girl, I know”

______

“Thank you so much for having me tonight y/n”

“Oh, no, no” You blush. He chuckles, watching you trying to burn holes in the door of the apartment in front of yours to avoid his gaze. “I-I…eh…Thank you! T-Thank you for coming, like, here, to my house, obviously…oh my god”

You want to slap your face for making a fool of yourself in front of another extremely hot man.

And then, he smiles.

And it's not a smirk or a chuckle that can be interpreted as "I know what I’m doing to you."

It's genuine.

He’s giving you his adorable bunny smile.

“Cute”

If he is about to say something else besides what your brain translated as a compliment, a voice coming from the elevator at the end of the hall momentarily distracts you from it.

“Hey pink”

Although Jimin's greeting is for you, his eyes are intently fixed on the male figure next to you, who watches him curiously.

“Jiminie, you are at home”

Jungkook's eyes travel quickly from Jimin to you, who -with incredible speed for someone so small- runs into the arms of the black-haired boy standing in front of the elevator door.

The gears in his brain working at full power, stopping abruptly when this guy drops the bags he was carrying on the floor so he can wrap his arms around your waist, still throwing daggers in his direction.

Then the realization hits him, and his lips let out an amused chuckle.

This guy must see him as a threat and being honest, he could be.

If you'd let him, that is.

“Yoongi didn't let me escape early, I'm sorry I couldn't make it to dinner with you”

The butterflies in your belly do a triple loop at his words.

"It's okay, I understand" You say turning around but not before grabbing one of the bags lying on the floor and incidentally, the hand he keep unoccupied by the other bags, you turn to Jungkook with a smile "Jungkookie, this is Jiminie, my neighbor!"

“Hi, Jiminie the neighbor”

Jungkook extends his hand offering it in a cordial greeting, while Jimin examines him completely to finally put down the bags and shake it without separating his hand that is holding yours.

“Just Jimin”

You don't quite understand why they seem to be having a battle to the death with just their eyes, in the middle of the hallway, while Mrs. Kim passes by and watches the scene with curiosity.

You give her a somewhat apologetic smile and make a small bow before -trying- to take a step to get closer to Jungkook.

Try, because the moment Jimin detected movement on your part, he pulled your hand with a little force -without hurting you of course-, to return you to his side.

Jungkook catches between his lips the mocking laughter that wants to escape from his chest and instead returns his gaze to you, smiling softly.

"I'd love to stay and get to know 'Just Jimin' a little more, but I'm afraid it's a little late" You can watch from the corner of your eye as Jimin rolls his eyes and turns to the side with a pout on his lips.

Weird.

Not the tantrum, you've seen it multiple times.

The moment. Yeah, that's weird.

"Actually, yes. It's late. Jungkookie from college" Jimin says dryly

For some reason your brain fails to organize its ideas and thoughts, they're all scattered all over the floor of what you assume is the control room in your head.

"Sure" Jungkook replies without looking at him, taking a step to get closer to you, snapping you out of your thoughts "Really, thanks for tonight, y/n"

Jimin knows, he can feel it.

His cheeks must be red and his forehead must have the biggest scowl in history.

Because, who does he think he is, Jungkookie from college, to hug you like that?

Even when his hand is intertwined with yours!.

"Oh" Jungkook's warm embrace brings you back to your senses completely. unconsciously letting go of Jimin's hand to return the gesture with affection "Thank you for coming, I hope Namjoon didn't force you to come all the way here."

"Not at all. Actually, I'd love to meet with you guys again."

When you part, Jimin makes his presence noticeable again, taking your hand quickly with a huff.

------

"I thought only Namjoon and Jin were coming for dinner?"

Jimin lets the question out casually, wishing it wasn't too obvious his need for information from the - apparently - new member of your group.

"Oh, yeah, Namjoon found Jungkook by chance and invited him over for old times' sake."

He can see how you arrange some cans in his cupboard, as if you know the place by heart.

Leaning on his kitchen counter, a smile moves over his lips at the domesticity of the moment.

How can you look so pretty and pink, doing something as mundane as stocking his pantry?

And it's this very thought that forces him to take control of the situation. Because he knows that what happened in the hallway a few minutes ago must have confused you even if you don't show it to him.

And it's not something he can afford.

"I see" Running his hand through his hair -a habit he doesn't intend to abandon-, he starts rummaging through another shopping bag as he continues "Did you read my messages?"

He can see you cease your movements and stand still with a bag of candy in one hand.

"I-I..."

"Nevermind" He Interrupts you "Yoongi advised me on one or two things that might be useful."

"He did?"

No.

But you can't know that.

"Yeah, he did."

------

A/N:

For the people who read the first part, I'm sorry for the delay but I've been going through an unexpected and difficult time, so I promise to make up for the lost time. In the meantime I'll leave this chapter here and I hope you enjoy it and again, I'm really sorry!

#park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #park jimin #jeon jeongkook #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim taehyung #jimin angst #jimin fluff #bangtan fic #bts fic

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

Text

HOSTIS SPECIAL

Member: Lee Hyunjae

Genre: fluff and smut (because what’s a hostis special without smut)

Playlist: Literally a sex-playlist sigh

A/N: for vin, who feeds me with the ideas i need to write. the one who told me to write this piece and also told me what to include. so, though you already know what’s going to happen in this piece, i hope it curbs your hyunjae thirst ;) happy birthday love <3

Familiar fingers brush across your collarbone, tracing it as his lips are attached to the surface. The contact sends a harsh shiver through your body, but a smile of content parts your lips just as a soft sigh runs off your tongue.

He doesn’t say anything when your hands travel up his spine from his lower back, feeling his muscles shift under his skin. His shoulder blade protrudes out from his back as he repositions himself, giving him easier access to your neck and jaw. Your hand travels up further, thumb stroking the line where his hair goes under his scalp, then tangling your fingers through his brown locks on the back of his head.

The treatment on your neck is more than adequate when you feel yourself getting hotter; more uncomfortable, in your home shorts. Shorts that you’d think Hyunjae wouldn’t give a second thought about but all he’s done the entire day was stare and grope at the flesh peeking out from beneath.

Hyunjae’s pressing on your hip bone pulls you back to present; he’s keeping you from squirming too much.

“Hyunjae--”

“Mm? What do you need, kitten?” The whisper hits your skin in the form of a soft breath just before he starts trailing more kisses under your ear and along your jaw.

“I just-- I don’t think I want to look like I just got fucked out at dinner--”

He finishes with a few more kisses and pulls away, eyes still refusing to shift away from the little, though not obvious, marks he’s left under your ear.

Pushing himself off you, he lets his torso loom over yours, but puts tension on his upper arms and shoulders. HIs hair dangles off his forehead, eyes obviously clouded with some sense of lust but not enough for him to shut you up so he can finish whatever he wanted to do. “Aw, why not? Would be a fun story to tell.”

“Really?” You snort sarcastically, digging your thumb and index finger into his cheeks on either side of his face, trying to rid the desire in the air. “You really want me to tell Juyeon, your very hot pilot friend, that I was just screwed over--”

“Maybe I do,” An eyebrow raises itself. Something flips in your stomach, because no matter now many times Hyunjae does it, he’d still be able to push some button inside you that you didn’t even know existed.

Definitely doesn’t help that his upper body was on display for you to gawk at, and just a minute ago, was pressed against yours, shirt already strewn on the floor.

“Maybe...” He lowers himself, knees now on either sides of your hips, and traces your chin. His touch oozes with an unhealthy amount of disciplined desire, and it puts you on edge since it places you at a more disadvantageous position. “I want you to tell him that so he’d know I’m the only one who can make you feel the way you do.”

Then he presses his lips into yours. A gentle, yet somehow claiming kiss.

“But sure, I’ll let you have your way. I’m in a good mood today, thanks to those shorts of yours,” He smirks and tucks your hair behind your ear lightly. After kissing you on the cheek, he removes himself from the bed and pulls his shirt off the edge, leaving you against the pillows and admiring the shape of his hip hiding under the joggers he was wearing.

The lines by the side of his abdominal muscles would disappear under the rim, leading to where his--

“Hey,” The shirt covers your view as he calls out to you. “You have an hour to get ready, don’t go back on your word now. We do what you want to do, so you better make it worth it and not make me wait.”

Hyunjae disappears out of the room, leaving you lying with your stomach and chest exposed to the cool air of his room.

The restaurant was beautiful, with a helipad just right out the door to the side and you had the honor of watching some rich director walk out of a helicopter, and be escorted to a table nearby.

Juyeon thanks the person waiting on your table, who happened to be the outlet manager, leaving you in absolute awe at the food and at Juyeon.

“So, why isn’t the Missus here with us?” Hyunjae starts the conversation just after Juyeon hands the two of you the utensils you needed.

“’Missus’?” He snorts. “We’ve been dating for a year, unlike some people, who’ve spent half their lives fighting with one another.”

Juyeon was wearing a white button up top with a dark blue, almost black, blazer with matching pants. His hair was done up and it’d be a lie if you said he wasn’t one of the most attractive people you’ve seen in your life.

“To each their own; I didn’t pick her up from some random bar.”

“Ooh,” Juyeon squints. He knows it’s a joke. “Low blow.”

Hyunjae receives a smack from you on his arm, shooting him a look of disapproval.

“It’s fine, he’s only being such an ass because you’re around. Otherwise, he’s the sweetest guy you’d ever know,” Juyeon’s defense in favour of Hyunjae surprises you a little, then you realise you’ve never really seen him with his friends. Maybe with Younghoon back in college, but otherwise, you’ve just been too busy avoiding him or plotting his murder.

“Then again, you of all people would know how sweet he is.”

“Do I?” You turn to Hyunjae, wine glass in your hand as you take a sip. “Last time he was sweet to me, he was on one knee.”

Juyeon smiles, but you are only looking at Hyunjae, who has his lips pursed when he almost throws his napkin across the table.

“Don’t you dare--”

“Hyunjae spent a week looking for the ring. He looked online, in physical stores... he even asked me if I could give him a plane ride to India.”

“Will you shut up--”

You are at a loss of words, for it is not like Hyunjae to ask anybody for a favour. It meant putting down his pride and asking for help, which he, of all people, isn’t accustomed to.

“I wish I could stuff that chicken thigh down your throat.”

“He flew in this ring he’s been staring at for so long -- well, not that long, since it took him like five months to decide he wanted to propose to you--”

“Flew in?” Your eyes travel down to the ring on your right, middle finger.

“From Paris.”

Hyunjae winces and presses his forehead into his palm, refusing to look at you but definitely shooting daggers through Juyeon.

“You flew in this ring from Paris?”

“We do not talk about this here.”

“Aww,” You coo and hug Hyunjae’s arm, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You are sweet.”

Hyunjae rolls his eyes, using his teeth to jab the inner side of his cheek. His eyes travel from the food to yours, now soft and all gooey after finding out the effort he put in into finding you the gorgeous silver ring with a crystal sitting in a floral wrap.

Then Hyunjae leans forward and kisses you infront of Juyeon, stunning you because most of the time, he’d be into little ministrations under the table-- but this? This was just for display.

Juyeon groans and scoffs, obviously looking embarrassed and slightly annoyed that the dinner he’s hosted has turned him into more of a third-party. Hyunjae pulls away and kisses your forehead before turning to Juyeon, knife in the air.

“I’m gonna kill you, just so you know.”

“You can try but I’m sure she won’t let you.”

You smile, eyes definitely shimmering with all the love you’ve grown to embrace for Hyunjae as you plant a kiss on his cheek.

The night grows fondly, with the sun setting then the night sky being lit up with the city lights you see in the distance from your table. By the time Juyeon has walked you both to the carpark, he is well aware of the mutual, simmering, warm affection between you and Hyunjae.

He would’ve said it’s disgusting to watch, especially after watching your duet fight till death so many times over, but he didn’t want ruin his own view of Hyunjae being so happy.

He’d smile every time he looked at you, even if you weren’t looking back at him.

“So,” Juyeon stops before Hyunjae’s car as the headlights beeped on. “When am I seeing the both of you again? Or am I expecting a call to be your best man?”

The car door unlocks just before you pull it open. You snort, knowing that Hyunjae’s idea of a wedding was too far away; both of you were too busy with work to even start planning one.

“Doubt it’d be anytime soon,” Hyunjae gets the driver’s door open. “But I’ll see you again, that’s for sure.”

Juyeon grins and shoves his hands into his pockets, nodding. “Bye, safe trip home.”

“Bye, Juyeon.”

Your fiance glances across the roof of the car upon your bidding goodbye, flashing you a tiny look of disapproval when he notices how your voice went up a few pitches.

You help yourself into the car and Hyunjae shortly after, Juyeon moving away for him to drive out and waves goodbye to the both of you.

When the car hits the streets and the lights alternate themselves, your eyes are so accustomed to having them plastered to the outside world, taking all the sights in. It wasn’t a usual drive to the tower you just had dinner at, so all the views were different.

The buildings were taller, brighter, no hospital in sight.

But old habits die hard and Hyunjae decides to disrupt your peace, albeit already used to it.

“This is your first proper meeting with Juyeon, right? How was it?”

You notice him turning to your in the window, and it wasn’t tough to read the look in his eyes.

He’s scared you saw something in Juyeon that he doesn’t have.

But Hyunjae will not cower and admit, he’d put up a fight to protect his pride even if you did assure him otherwise.

“He’s alright,” You pause. “A sight to behold.”

“I was worried I was imagining things when I noticed the way you looked at him.”

It snaps it into your head that this insecurity is turning into jealousy, and Hyunjae’s jealousy is a force to be reckoned with.

“He is gorgeous, you can’t deny that.”

“I’ll deny it because I’m straight and he’s got enough going on for him.”

Hyunjae’s now slightly-harsh tone surprises you, though not alarmingly.

“Just because you’re straight doesn’t mean you can’t say he’s gorgeous.”

“Is that the only thing you can say about Juyeon?” He turns to you, eyebrow raised as the car comes to a stop at a red light. “‘Gorgeous’?”

Leaning your head back onto the car seat, you eye him from the corner of your vision, a soft smirk coming on your lips.

“You’re jealous and you’re not even trying to hide it.”

The arrogant scoff that tears through the air with a roll of his eyes back to the road is an enticing sound to your ears. With his right arm on the steering wheel, he displays all the strained veins on his arm, because that’s just how hard he’s gripping it.

“Surely I have some credit for feeling jealous over my fiancé calling my best friend ‘gorgeous’?”

It is seething out from him pore to pore, and there isn’t a single strand of hair on Hyunjae that’s trying to hide it.

No longer surprising the way Hyunjae handles you -- careful but harsh and claiming -- he doesn’t hesitate to cup your jaw and cheeks in his hands while using your body to shut the front door of his house.

“My God,” He breathes against your lips, pulling away only to speak, otherwise his lips are attached to yours. “You’re already mine but I can’t stand the way you call someone else ‘gorgeous’.”

His blatant admittance draws a thick chuckle from your gut, motivating you to wrap your arms around him to tighten the gap between your torsos.

“I know you don’t like it, but it’s never boring to see your reaction.”

Hyunjae doesn’t stop, only allowing the kisses to get harsher according to his needs and the desires filling his veins. He picks you up by your thighs, one arm supporting your rear while he pushes both your shoes off and removing his own with just his feet.

It doesn’t take too long for him to get the both of you to his bedroom, clothes already pulled out from under your skirt and his pants and on the brink of coming off your skin altogether.

Hyunjae dips his nose into your neck, shutting your eyes despite your fingers desperately trying to find the buttons of his formal wear. His skin feels stretched and feeling his muscles shift under your fingerpads alleviates all your senses.

Never gets old.

He pulls away only to remove his shirt, returning to your gown and holding you up to pull down the zipper on the back and letting the straps fall down your arms to your elbows. Distracting you by returning to your lips, he gives himself space to remove your clothes, letting the cool (but now slightly warm) air kiss your exposed skin.

Every breath he leaves on you is light but needy, and every kiss feels like it was timed; like it was meant to happen. It doesn’t show the ten years of fighting you’ve been through with him.

Hyunjae loves your body the way he said he would, and even if he would never admit it or write it out explicitly in words, he would never hurt you more than he intended.

He doesn’t remove any of your lingerie besides your underwear, which is strange because he usually likes to see all of you, for he likes to revel in the fact that you are his and his only.

So when he reaches under the bed and pulls out a small, newly opened package, your attention is being sought after by that mysterious box.

“What the Hell is that?”

Then that smirk returns from the depths of Hell, just like you asked.

“Why in the world do you-- no, wait--”

“Come on, kitten,” That devious smile makes you wetter, against your liking, but your brain is yelling ‘no’ because you know this is just another way he can snap you like a twig. “You’ve had your fun, now let me have mine.”

You watch with a mixture of terror and lust as he removes the device from the package, and it is almost embarrassing to watch him turn it on without even checking for the batteries.

He’s planned this.

“Hyunjae--”

“Trust me, kitten,” His warmth breath hits your neediness, clenching your jaw to prevent the moan from escaping your mouth. Then, he presses the device to your skin, the most sensitive point on your body, and it sends you over an edge you didn’t even know existed.

Your back archs off the bed, head thrown back into the pillows when you feel the vibrations pulse through your abdomen and then throughout your entire body. Hyunjae slides two digits in with ease, tongue also busy flicking all the space where the device wasn’t being ruthlessly pressed against.

The blanket gets tangled in your right hand, and your left finds your teeth to bite.

His fingers increase their speed while the dangerous, circular device still running innocent, yet gut-clenching sensations through your nerves.

It was a mistake to look down, for Hyunjae looks up at your through his lashes and his slightly sweaty fringe, eyes clouded with lust and desire to ensure you were getting all the pleasure he could offer.

And the eye contact flips a switch somewhere inside, and his finger finds the spot alongside the constant vibrations from the device.

“Oh-- fucking Hell-- Hyunjae--”

The silence is painful, and he lets you near your climax, fingers coated with your lust and whimsical whines.

Then just before you release, he removes the device and his fingers, causing a frustrated groan to erupt from your chest and your bloodshot eyes ready to shoot daggers through him.

You sit up, forgetting about your needs and only wanting to choke him to death. But Hyunjae beats you to it, hand flying out to hold you back down to the bed by your throat, and silencing you with a harsh, messy kiss.

“I know you don’t like it, but it’s never boring to see your reaction.”

The words boil and fuel your love for him, for this is why you are his and he is yours.

You are half of Ares, and he completes you the same way you complete him.

He captures you by the lips again, allowing your hands to undo his belt and remove his pants all too impatiently before he gets rid of it with your aggressive pushing.

You can feel his smile against your lips, and it makes the kiss all the more sweeter. Knowing that he breathes and sighs into you, giving you all that he is makes you yearn for more.

His uneven shifting tells you he’s gotten rid of his underwear, then you feel him prodding at your entrance as he’s removing your bra.

“I love you so much.”

He stares into your eyes, not a spark of hatred or resentment the way he’d look at you just months ago, and it feels like the Hell you’ve promised to live with him, if not better.

“I love you too.”

The bliss when he fills you perfectly erupts goosebumps all over your skin, and his nose dips into your neck while your palms find his shoulder blades, nails ready to dig into his skin. His scent is toxicatingly addictive, where the mixture of his sweat and leftover cologne from the dinner appointment forces you to drink all of the pleasure he’s offering you as he grinds his hips into yours.

The remnants from the vibrator has already given him some leeway, so it doesn’t take long for him to find that spot again, above all the nibbling he was doing to your neck and collarbone.

Your nails must’ve left a mark on his back, though you were too pre-occupied with the violent spasming from your climax.

Hyunjae helps you ride out yours while chasing his, and his breathy growls in the back of his throat tells you he was nearing his as well.

“Don’t pull out.”

“What?” His hair sticks to his forehead, and the view of his pelvis ramming against your already max-ed out core turns you on again. “Are you-- sure?”

“Do it before I change my mind.”

The veins on his arms by your head were about to explode, and the view of him above you becomes too much for you to handle, so you push him down by the back of his neck to meet your lips again.

The thrusts don’t stop, and he helps you find that climax again within an unbelievable amount of time.

Then he abruptly offers a harsh jerk, then another, and you hit your second climax with him groaning messily into your lips. His hips and thighs are shaking under yours, giving him seconds just before he slowly pulls out and removes himself off you.

The panting, the smell of sex in the air and the trickling of his release down your legs make you feel like a satisfied mess, with an absolute void of complaint.

Hyunjae is spent, but he still finds the strength to pick you up and bring you into the bathroom, helping you wash all of him that was still dripping out of you, every now and then giving you a kiss on your skin where he could reach.

The bed feels extra comfy, now that the both of you were spent from your love-making. And being cuddled up against his chest in your pajamas makes it all the more worth it.

#timetohajima hostis #the boyz hyunjae #hyunjae smut #the boyz smut #the boyz fanfic #hyunjae #hyunjae fanfic

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princessmariaphiliper · 3 years

Text

THE SLEEPOVER FIC | Part 6 The Sunshine

Summary: You and James have put yourselves into trouble, but you think maybe it’s hotter that way.

Notes: James Acaster, Original characters. Alcohol consumption, moderate language. Just a feel good time babs!

Pairing: James Acaster x Reader

Genre: Fluff with eventual smut, Slow Burn fic

Words: 2,597

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

James returned to his spot beside you, the sun shining down onto the metal table. Making it hot to the touch some time ago. He was sweating you noticed. Not in such a way that made it look as though he’d just finished a workout, but enough to add a light sheen to his face. You wondered if you looked much the same, having been sat in the same spot for hours. You could see that your uncovered arms had begun to burn, you imagined your nose had also as you felt a dull pain starting to form there.

The three of you sat in comfortable silence for a while taking blissful sips of your refreshing beverages. Occasionally you picked at your blueberry muffin, trying to think of something interesting to say.

“It’s a beautiful day isn’t it” Olivia asked no one in particular. She was right, the clouds had rolled away mid-morning. Leaving nothing but a clear sky for the sunshine to project through. You hummed in agreement.

“I’ve not seen Camden this busy in years.” James said, looking out at the collection of people lining the lock, you were somewhat grateful that you’d arrived early this morning. You might not have had a comfortable table otherwise.

“Is there a festival or something?”

“I don’t think so,”

“It’s just sunny and the British go mad for a beergarden.”

“True, true”

Another pause in conversation happened before James turned back around and faced you. As he twisted his body a waft of his cologne danced across your nostrils. He smelt of pear drops mixed with a light spice, pleasant but not overpowering by any means. Looking down at his hand you observed how his slender fingers engulfed his cup. You hadn’t noticed how large his hands were until now. Similarly as he’d always had them covered, only now could you see the veins of his arms. Peeping from under the skin. He was by no means muscular in the typical sense, but you could tell he wasn’t at all scrawny either. His arms too held a glaze of sweat across them. You took a sip, urgently needing a distraction from studying his body. You were hot enough as it was. As you pulled your drink away from your lips you looked over at Olivia. She was staring into your eyes in an intense sort of way. You furrowed your eyebrows at her, hoping to gain more of an insight upon her unreadable caricature. She turned towards James with a kind smile and began,

“Well James, it’s been lovely to meet you, but I best be heading home,” she pointed at the ring on her finger, “duty calls.”

You shook your head in disbelief, Olivia was divorced. She had been (unofficially) for quite some time now. But kept the ring on her finger as a quick getaway on occasion with people she didn’t know too well. You clocked on to what she was doing now, leaving you alone with James to fulfill whatever insane dialogue she’d got into her head. You gave her a deadpan face as she drank up the last bit of her iced coffee. James flashed her a polite smile, holding his hand out to her once again to shake hers.

“Nice to meet you too, hope we’ll meet again sometime!”

“Yes, that would be lovely, I’m sure Y/n will have a dinner party soon. She always has one close to the end of summer, don’t you?” she stated, rising from her seat she gave you a wink and a wave goodbye.

“I do indeed.”

“Well, I expect to see James there Y/n. A bit of celebrity company is definitely what your missing!” You mentally rolled your eyes at her double entendre.

“I’d love to see you there.”

“Text me when you get home!” You called out as she dissolved with another wave into the crowd. You looked out for a moment before the realisation that you were now alone (fully alone) with James. No other people to perform for.

“No goodbye kiss for Olive James?” You teased, relaxing into his solo company. He seemed a little startled by your question, turning to you with his lips parted.

“I-”

“I’m only kidding.”

“Well. If you must know, I don't go giving kisses out willy nilly.” His phrasing made you hold back a stupid grin; your sense of humour was embarrassingly immature. Noticing you try to hold back a laugh James quizzed you.

“What?”

“Kissing willy nilly,”

“You’re disgusting, childish,” James replied in a singsong, allowing your laugh to roll out of you now. He waited a moment, watching you with a smile, a chuckle causing his shoulders to bob up and down. His face fell comically flat, “I’m very disappointed in you.”

“I’m funny though,”

“If you say so Y/n” Lifting his hands defensively and tilting his head. You looked around the two of you, all the tables were full now and plenty of people waiting inside to order their beverages. You began to feel a little guilty for having been hoarding the table you were sat at. Noticing a couple on the hunt for a space to sit you turned to James again.

“Hey, do you want to have a walk around? Looks like it's getting busy and I’ve been here hours, legs need a stretch.” You rubbed at your thighs to exaggerate your meaning.

“Sure, where’d you like to go?”

“Not sure, where you headed earlier?”

“I was just walking really. Needed to get out of the flat.”

The two of you rose from the table, offering it gracefully to the couple who had now been standing awkwardly for quite some time. As the two of you headed toward the gate you heard the guy mumble to his partner a subtle ’Was that James Acaster?’

Watching James visibly cringe as he unclasped the handle with his vacant hand. You considered teasing but seeing the distaste across his face you decided it would be best not to. You expected it was an uncomfortable conversation to constantly fill.

“We could head into the market” you enthused, steering away from the conversation James had most definitely expected. He parted his lips, one side of his mouth curing into a grateful smile.

“Sure,”

And so off you trotted into the cascade of hot bodies weaving through each other. Thankfully - as James was a lot taller than you, he had taken the liberty to lead the way. Parting through people and occasionally slowing behind those taking in the London scenery via their mobile phones. You crossed over the lock bridge. Turning your head right to look out onto the sights, James flocked his head back to check if you were making it through okay. You twisted back and caught him looking, giving you a warm feeling of care overcome you.

“You okay back there short-arse?”

“Yeah, keeping up long legs.”

You saw his chest and shoulders rise with a snort as a group of people either side of you begun to push past. Causing you to stumble forwards. Instinctively you grabbed onto what was in front of you for balance, not wanting to lose James in a bombardment of bodies.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,”

James silently produced his hand behind his back for you to hold onto. You let go of his shirt and gently took his pinkie finger into your palm with hesitation. Your blood pumping a little faster. Sensing your wavering James curled the rest of his fingers around your hand, engulfing it with a little squeeze of reassurance. You took a step forward while you were stationary in an attempt to hide your PDA for anyone who might recognise him. You couldn’t be arsed with your face on some scandal website.

“Do you want to eat?” James quizzed with a flash of eye contact as you made it towards the (thankfully not as crowded) food market.

“Yeah sure,” you agreed “What do you fancy?”

“Depends, are you feeling adventurous?” He led you round a few corners with visible excitement. Still holding firmly onto your hand. You decided however that you didn’t mind it all that much. It made you feel giddy in a way.

Casually he pulled the two of you round a final bend and stopped. Causing you to now be side by side with him. He let go of your hand, secretly making your heart sink into your shoes. Before regaining a hold of it. This time he invited you to interlock one another’s fingers, which you quickly accepted, his fingertips close to caressing you wrist.

“Why not?” You looked left, smiling up at him. His face lit up by the afternoon sun. The dusting of his auburn stubble upon his cheeks glinting in the light.

“Good. This place has the best South African food.”

“Sounds good to me,” You smiled back.

Excited by his own enthusiasm. You knew James was as much of a foodie as Ed, after all you’d chatted to them both the other night about their food podcast. James comically admitting that he didn’t think as many people would be still listening years after they had begun it. Trusting his insight, the two of you joined the queue for ‘Shaka Zulu’, allowing him to have this moment of pleasure as you had stolen him from a day to himself.

You looked around you, most of the people queuing being tourists or couples patiently waiting in the sunshine to be invited inside. A moment of panic washed over you as you started to wonder. To an outside eye could this be considered a date? Albeit an accidental scenario you and James were holding hands while waiting to go for a meal. Perhaps it could be translated as such.

Starting to feel nervous you decided you really needed a drink.

Pulling you out of your thoughts James ran his thumb idly over the back of your hand as you approached the front of the queue. Instantly making you feel calmer. He didn’t seem at all nervous. His posture tall and somewhat cocky. He used his free hand to pull on his collar, letting some air into his shirt, then running his fingers through the back of his hair.

“Have you been here before?”

“Never,” You admitted openly, “I don’t eat at restaurants often. Only for birthdays and so on, I don’t have the excuse really” You pondered the last time you’d gone for a proper meal out. Having been single there wasn’t a necessity to eat out as often. You wondered if maybe that was why this felt like such a date.

The waiter asked the two of you how many the table was for before guiding you towards one in the middle of the room. Inside of the restaurant was dimly lit in contrast to the outdoor sunshine, making your eyes go funny upon entry. As they began to adjust you noted the calved deep wood chairs and African themed setting, having you feeling slightly underdressed.

“Quite fancy for jeans and a t shirt,” You admitted to James as the waiter left you at your table to ponder the menu.

“How do you think my bare knees are feeling over here,”

“You suggested this place James,”

“Yeah well,” He sang stupidly, “Forgot who I was for a second Y/n.” Pausing shortly after blinking slowly and looking off to his left.

You were seated across from one another, both in extravagant looking chairs. James had his legs outstretched underneath the table; both his feet nestled beside your ankles. You noted his comfort around you, and his constant need to be close to you in any way possible. It was alluring to consider his touch may be purposeful. The two of you studied the menu for a while before you perked up another conversation.

“Is it too early for a drink?”

“It is the weekend,” He replied with his brows raised, lips pulled cheekily.

“Olive tells me off if I suggest anything before three.”

“And you pretend to be okay with that?” James stated playfully. You laughed at his comment, making his mouth curve into a proud smirk. Something stirring in your stomach subsequently.

“White wine is presumably more acceptable for day drinking,”

“I’d agree but why bother when you’re already committed.”

“Guess you’re right.”

“Obviously”

“I’ll get a mojito then.” Shaking your head at his cockiness for what felt like the hundredth time since you met him, he carried on.

“Good choice. I might join you. What do you want to eat?”

“What does the food connoisseur recommend?” You offered sarcastically, however genuinely curious for his input. You didn’t want to be brought to a place he’d bigged up and order a fucking salmon.

“Well, the Vegetable Potjie is great, I usually get the Beef Bobotie though.” You checked over his suggestion on the menu. Liking the sound of the vegetarian dish much more than the beef you decided to go with that.

“I’ll have the Potjie then!” You professed, closing the leather wallet with a gentle thud.

James leant back in his seat, resting his arms on each side of it. You couldn’t help but observe him now that there was nowhere else for your eyes to naturally fall. Accepting the circumstance, you drank him up. His posture comfortable, one of his arms falling in his lap away from your view. His hair curled upwards in a collection of flicks, some slightly stuck down from the heat outside. His jaw was well defined as he rested in an L shaped hand. Ring finger positioned just below his lips. You moved your eyes upwards only to meet his own, that had subsequently, also been studying you. You started to feel a little self-conscious and James looked at you with hunger in his eyes as the two of you held the contact.

You nibbled your lip nervously out of habit, unsure of what to say. Causing a knee jerk reaction from James, his foot turning to nudge your own. He swallowed awkwardly and cleared his throat, shifting in his seat, (thankfully) as the waiter returned for your orders.

“Hi what would the two of you like to eat this afternoon?”

James looked to you, silently quizzing if you would like to order first.

“You go,” You nodded “It's okay.”

“Erm, well could we get two mojitos please,”

“Sure, would you like plain, raspberry or kiwi?”

“I’ll have a raspberry please” You chipped in

“Just plain for me thanks”

“Yep, what else would you like?” She scribbled down some notes as James began speaking once more.

“Can I get the Beef Bobotie please,”

“Um hum,”

“And could I please have the Potjie” You asked politely, passing your menu over to James who was gathering his.

“Wonderful,” She scribbled again. “Is that everything?”

“That's it thanks.”

“Amazing, someone should be with you in a minute to bring your drinks over. If you have any questions just shout. Enjoy your meal guys!” She enthused, gathering your menus before starting to head off. Alas, before she had fully departed from your table James stated a genuine ‘Thanks! You too!’ His face twisting downwards in instant regret.

You forced yourself to hold back your laughter until the waiter had disappeared. James’s mouth wide open, blinking slowly in disgust at himself. You smiled at him, feeling both second-hand embarrassment and pure joy simultaneously. You raised your eyebrow inquisitively.

“You too?” You teased, James looked up shamefully, resting his chin in his palms.

“I wish I were dead.” He concluded. Twisting his face into a comical frown.

Hello all lovely people. I would just like to say I’m not fully in love this chapter, mostly because I know we’re getting into the nitty gritty but I wanna take things slow to build some more SexU0L teNsIOn~ I also think I’m trying too hard to be funny. But anyways, thank you for keeping up with the fic and all the support along with it. Love light and peace x

- Princess Maria

Taglist josies-polestar queensantiagoofthe99 rilannon laurabeech olithephangirl

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglist, feel free to tell me!

#james acaster x reader #james acaster imagines #james acaster fanfic

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pseudofaux · 3 years

Note

If I’m not too late can I request some spice level five for my best boy Toshiie 👀💕 I’m not to picky otherwise.

ALWAYS! let’s throw him let that puppy have a well deserved BONE

Thank you for requesting this tipseu, please enjoy! (If you’re reading this, requests are now closed, check back in the spring!)

Uhhhhh this one comes with an impreg kink cw *dynastic fingerguns*

“So big,” she groans, blissed out beneath him, and he swears he’d grow another foot taller if he could just from the pride of it. Her hips are moving in her sweet, needy circles, they’ve been trying to edge each other a bit lately before going at it and it makes that first moment of being inside that much hotter. He kind of feels like he’s gonna die from feeling this good. She’s here with him and totally into it— if he thinks about it too long his eyes prickle, so he looks at where their bodies are flush and tries not to be an idiot, this one time. Fuck, his hair against her. So hot.

“Yeah, well,” he says, not willing to try and fuck up saying anything about how happy he is about what she said. He can give it right back to her, though. “How are you always so tight, huh?”

The word isn’t enough. It’s correct but imprecise, he feels like he’s fumbling meaning between his hands like a too-hot food. She is tight, but it’s more than that. She’s snug, just absolutely perfect around him. When he pulls his hips back she makes this ugly but adorable sound that’s half whine, half moan, and he all the way moans when he sees his cock pull her vivid lips with it when he moves. What is that color? Not purple or brown or pink. It’s really pretty.

Something dumb in him says it’s a Maeda color, and something dumber tells him to fuck a Maeda into her, fast.

“Hey,” he says. He’s proud his voice doesn’t catch because it absolutely should, her little circles are killing him and the thought of her with a belly full of their baby is definitely making him weak. Weak and wild, and he doesn’t want to be like that for her. “You okay?”

She hums a distracted mmmhmm and reaches up for him, her tiny hands landing on his hips. “Inuchiyo,” she whispers, opening her eyes to seek him out. “I’m okay.”

“You sure?” She’s never lied about this before, but he’s gotta be sure.

“Yeah,” she promises. “C’mon, move. You feel so good.”

He feels his eyes roll back as he rests his arms beside her body and lets them take his weight. “Don’t say stuff like that,” he says, embarrassed at how much he loves it.

“What?” she asks. He can tell she knows, the minx. “You don’t want me to tell you how good it feels when you fill me up? How hot you feel inside?”

“Knock it off,” he snaps, and he rolls his hips to fit them back together. It’s slick and she stretches without tensing— in fact she relaxes onto their futon and coos, she coos beneath him, and he’s definitely gonna die.

But not until he’s fucked a Maeda into her.

#slbp toshiie #slbp inuchiyo #slbp fanfic #otome fanfiction #tadokorojin #tipseu

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jenonctcity · 4 years

Text

My Addiction - Part 1

Differences – Lee Donghyuck

Part of the Bad Boy Series.

Badboy!Au

Warnings: Drug Use, Violence, Explicit Sex, Sex under the Influence.

Word Count: 5.6k

Lee Donghyuck would punch you if you addressed him by that name. Instead, it was best to call him Haechan, which is the name he much preferred, the name he had given to himself after he’d moved out of his parents house and decided to make his own living instead of leeching off of mummy and daddy. Don’t get him wrong, he loved getting money thrown at him to keep him out of his parents’ hair, but he resented his father, and didn’t want anything more from him after the age of seventeen. He was very close to his father when he was growing up, but the day he walked in on his father fucking his secretary, his opinion changed, and he couldn’t even look his father in the eye without wanting to hurt him. His grades started to drop at school, and eventually he dropped out. He ended up living in a shared apartment with the only people he thought he could trust - Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun. He realised he needed money to live, and without anything to prove he did well at school since he didn’t take any exams, he did what most people frown upon. He became a drug dealer. And a very successful one at that. To give himself a more edgier appearance he got some tattoos, cut a slit into his eyebrow, grew his hair out longer to give it a messy appearance, and involuntarily got a scar on his cheekbone that he tells people he got from a fist fight, but in reality he got it when walked into a doorframe from trying to see if he could navigate with way around the apartment with his eyes shut. He’d tried to avoid actively taking the drugs that he sold, but it was hard not to when he remembered he was keeping his dad’s infidelity a secret from his mum. He found that a line of cocaine helped, and if anyone tried to tell him otherwise, they’d get a smack on the nose.

It wasn’t long until he was the most sought-after drug dealer in their local area, and he was soon rolling in money, and pussy. Women threw themselves at him left and right, and who was he to decline half an hour of intense pleasure that would end in a sweet orgasm. He liked to pride himself in the fact that he wasn’t as much of a slut as Renjun, which he often said to the poor boy’s face. Every other weekend, he’d help out at his uncle’s mechanics, manly to maintain face with the law so if they came knocking at his door asking how he had so much money, he’d be able to say that he has a legit job. Plus he enjoyed toying with cars and keeping himself busy on the weekends that Renjun would have a screaming baby in the apartment.

The cool air of night sent a shiver down Haechan’s spine as he stepped out of the crowded club, his thick leather jacket not doing a good job in keeping him warm. The music faded to a muffled booming noise as he walked down the street, tucking his hands into his pocket to try and maintain the warmth within his fingers. His cheeks felt hot despite the cold air slapping against them, the alcohol in his system slowing wearing off the more he walked down the dark streets. He hadn’t had much to drink, but after his third drink his cheeks went red and felt hotter than a pool of lava.

“Get off of me you creep.” He heard a high-pitched voice command in a rather calm manner. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned his head to look down the alley way beside him that was light by nothing but dim moonlight.

“Come on baby, just a quickie.” He could see the silhouettes of two people stumbling around in the pitch black, both figures faceless from the lack of light, but he didn’t think the stumbling was from alcohol, rather from the girl trying to push the man away from her.

“No get fucked you pervert.” The sound of skin slapping skin made his eyes widen as he assumed someone had been slapped, but he was unsure who had slapped who.

“You little skank!” One silhouette shoved the other up against the wall and Haechan saw your figure under the small ray of moonlight that slipped through the gap in between the buildings.

“Oi!” He shouted into the alleyway and walked up to you, grabbing you by the elbow and frowning at you. He could see your face clearer now that he was less than a metre away from you. Your face looked confused as you looked up at him, slightly tugging your arm back from him. “I wondered where you’d gone baby. Come on we’re going home.” He started to drag you out of the alleyway, wanting to avoid confrontation with the man if he could.

“Hey what the fuck do you think you’re doing? She’s mine for the night.” The man slurred, following after you both. Haechan noticed that the man was taller than him, but he didn’t care. His jaw clenched and he pushed you behind him as the man followed you out to the main street where it was brightly lit by streetlights.

“Back off.” Haechan growled, folding his arms across his chest with an eyebrow raised.

“What are you gonna do big man?” He reached out to ruffle Haechan’s hair and as he did, Haechan grabbed his wrist and shoved the man up against the wall. He grabbed him by the collar, getting the pocketknife he kept in his pocket out and flicking it open. He held it against the man’s neck and smirked at him.

“Do you really want to find out? Big man.” The mans face paled in colour, and he shook his head. Haechan let go of him and gave him a shove. “Fuck off.” The man scurried off and Haechan smirked, turning around to face you as he put the knife back in his pocket.

“You finished showing off?” You stood with your arms folded, jutting your hip out as you rested your weight on your right leg, your eyebrow raised and an unimpressed look on your face. Haechan frowned in confusion and shock at your reaction. He couldn’t deny how attractive he found you, stood there in your navy-blue dress that hugged your figure perfectly, paired with a pair of black, high heeled boots with your hair blowing in the wind. He was amazed that you were shivering from the cold.

“What?” He tilted his head, putting his hands in his pocket as he attempted to stare you down. You didn’t feel intimidated by him, yeah you thought he was attractive, and the red rose tattoo with a black and white skull he had on the left side of his neck was making you weak in the knees, his naturally black hair had a messy look to it, like he’d had a thousand pair of hands running through it.

“As hot as that was, I had it under control. Next time, mind your own business.” You said with sass that was more intimidating than bratty. Haechan had never had a woman speak to him in that way before, and he was utterly baffled. He was expecting you to show him gratitude, not give him a telling off.

“Like you had it under control Princess, you were a minute away from being some crackheads cock sleeve.” His scowl told you that he didn’t like your attitude, but you could care less.

“No I wasn’t.” You snapped, starting to storm off down the street, a sway in your walk from how high your boots were. He followed you, finding you interesting and strangely not liking how you were just leaving him there.

“A thank you would be nice.” He caught up with you and walked beside you. You glanced his way with a scowl, looking him up and down and noticing he had quite long legs that were clad with black skinny jeans. You also noticed the tattoo he had on the back of his hand, it was of a lion’s face and it looked incredibly detailed.

“I’m not thankful though.” You grunted, looking forward and pretending that you weren’t freezing your ass off in the wind. “Why are you following me?”

“I’m waiting for you to say thank you.” He deadpanned, keeping up with your quick pace with his own long strides.

“Thank you. Now do one.” He smirked to himself but made no effect to change his direction. “I thanked you, why are you still following me?!” You raised your voice, getting irritated with him.

“I’m just making sure that you get home safely.” He shrugged, pulling off his leather jacket and draping it over your shoulders. If you didn’t feel like your nipples were about to fall off from being so cold, you would have told him to shove his jacket up where the sun doesn’t shine. But because you feared for your nipples, you accepted the jacket with a roll of your eyes.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, actually meaning your gratitude this time but not daring to look at him. He gave you a genuine smile, shivering but trying not to be bothered by it as he walked you home. You got to a block of apartments, not too far from where his own apartment building was situated, and you turned to him. “This is me; you can go now.” You shrugged off the jacket and held it out to him.

“What’s your name?” He asked out of the blue, biting his bottom lip as he stared you up and down once more, his eyes dragging over your figure slowly.

“(Y/N). Thanks Hyuck.” You turned and entered the building, not paying him anymore attention as you let the door shut behind you in his face. He rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle, deciding that he liked your spunk as he pulled his jacket back on. He definitely wanted to come across you against at some point. He froze suddenly, his eyes widening as he realised that you had called him by the nickname he went by when he was growing up.

He suddenly felt like he needed to see you again even more.

---

You were seeing red. How dare someone think they could stand up your friend on a date they had arranged. Not on your watch. Your friend didn’t know where he lived, but you called around and as soon found out where Lee Jeno lived, you were stood in front of his door with your fists clenched, pounding on the wood. The door flung open and a tall boy with broad shoulders answered, his blond shaggy hair flopping over his forehead but you could still see his dark eyebrow raised.

“Can I help you?” He asked, his voice deep and his eyes raked up your body slowly.

“Are you Lee Jeno?” You raised your own eyebrows, tapping your foot impatiently on the floor as you folded your arms over your chest.

“Nope, hang on.” He turned his head and shouted out into the apartment. “Jeno! Come here, you’re wanted!”

“Who is it Jaemin?” A deep voice called back.

“Some girl!” He stepped back as another tall boy emerged from within the apartment, his hair as blond as the other boys but his pushed off of his forehead with an undercut. You felt slightly intimidated by this guy’s harsh gaze, his strong facial features making him look scary despite how much of a neutral face he was pulling. This must be Lee Jeno.

“Do I know y-” He was cut off by your fist connecting to his jaw, his eyes widening and his face flinching, but apart from that he hardly reacted. Jaemin’s mouth popped open and he was quick to put himself between you and Jeno. He put his hands on Jeno’s shoulders as Jeno went to step forward, clearly not amused that you had laid your hands on him.

“Who the fuck do you think you are huh?!” You shouted at him, trying to get past Jaemin so you could let Jeno have it again. You weren’t scared of him, and you felt a huge rush of adrenaline at the thought of fighting someone like Jeno.

“Fuck off little girl.” He growled, trying to get past Jaemin. He wasn’t going to hurt you, he just wanted to frighten you, as he felt like you were getting way too cocky with him.

“No! Why did you stand Leah up?!” You screamed at him, trying your hardest to get past Jaemin but the tall boy didn’t seem to be budging.

“Haechan help me out here!” Jaemin shouted into the apartment, starting to sound slightly out of breath from holding the two of you apart. All of a sudden, another body wedged its way between you and Jeno. Your frowned and completely stopped when you saw the man who’d walked you home just nights before.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You looked at him in confusion.

“I live here. What the fuck are you doing here?” He quipped straight back, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Trying to beat up this bitch.” You motioned to Jeno with a nod of your head. He scoffed with a roll of his eyes.

“You’re trying to beat up someone who fights for a living. You’re dumb.” You scowled at him as he turned around to Jaemin and Jeno. “I’ll handle this.” He grabbed his jacket and keys shutting the door behind him. “Let’s grab some coffee.”

“I don’t want coffee.”

“Then have some water, I don’t give a fuck.” He shrugged, nudging you as he started to walk, urging you to walk with him. You rolled your eyes but followed him anyway. He had on a soft looking grey jumper, paired with ripped, denim jeans. If you couldn’t see all of his tattoos and his eyebrow slit, you’d assume he was just an average boy who didn’t casually carry a knife on him.

“Why are we getting coffee?” You questioned, following him out of the apartment building and to his car. The sun was starting to set, leaving a golden and amber hue of light on the metal of his car.

“Because. Get in.” He nodded towards the car, unlocking it and climbing into the driver’s seat. You got in the passenger’s seat and put your belt on, sighing as you relaxed into the comfortable seats of the Mercedes. The car roared to life, the car rumbling as he revved the engine. It didn’t take long for you to arrive at the nearest drive through Starbucks. “What do you want?” He turned to look at you, his arm resting on the door of the car with only one of his hands on the steering wheel. He looked hot; you couldn’t deny that. But you refused to let him know that, so you kept up the not bothered attitude.

“Surprise me.” You shrugged, picking at a loose thread on your mom jeans. He ordered for you both, which you didn’t pay attention to as you completely zoned out, subtly rubbing your knuckles which ached a bit from striking Jeno’s strong jaw. He passed the cup holder to you and drove out of the car park. You didn’t bother asking where he was taking you, not really caring as you stared out of the window. The scenery slowly changed from the visual of the city, to dense trees as he drove out towards the outskirts of the city. It was getting darker out, and small drops of rain hit the windscreen as he sped through the country lanes, eventually pulling onto a dirt track and stopping in a small clearing which was used as a small car park for dog walkers.

He turned off the engine, taking off his seatbelt and turning his body to angle slightly towards you. He took one of the cups from the holder and sipped it, keeping his eyes on you. You picked up the remaining cup, glancing over at him as you timidly sipped from the cup.

“Hot chocolate?” You let out a soft laugh, feeling the warmth of liquid as it slid down your throat.

“Do you like it?” He raised an eyebrow, sipping his own drink again.

“Mhm…so…why am I here?”

“How do you know my name?” He got straight to the point, placing his cup in one of the cup holders and clearing his throat.

“We went to the same school.” You shrugged, also placing your drink in one of the cup holders.

“We did? I don’t remember you…” He furrowed his eyebrows, looking at your face to take in all of your details to see if his memory would be jogged.

“No, you wouldn’t remember me. I was quiet and kept to myself.” You awkwardly cleared your throat, not really wanting to speak about your school life with him. “How can you afford a car like this?” You wanted to change the subject, and you hoped using a topic such as cars would be a good distraction.

“Are you sure you want to know?” He smirked, moving a hand up to rub at his jaw. You watched his fingers as they caressed the soft looking skin of his face, your eyes trailing up to his piercing brown eyes that were almost covered by his sleek, black har. You nodded in confirmation, letting your eyes travel back down his jaw and to his neck. The inside of the car was lit up by a single light, but you could see every detail of the stunning young man sat in front of you. “I sell drugs.” He said it as if it was nothing. He wasn’t ashamed of his job title, but he knew if the wrong person knew about what he did to make money, then it would cause a problem.

“Oooooh dangerous man.” You laughed and rolled your eyes.

“I can be dangerous if you get on the wrong side of me, but luckily for you,” His gaze moved from your face to your chest, slowly travelling back to your eyes. “you excite me.”

“How?” You felt your heart flutter, unsure of how he was having such an effect on you, but you pinned it down to just finding him overly attractive and probably needing a good fuck.

“No girl has ever spoke to me the way you have, and I want nothing more than to put you in your place.” His voice seemed to deepen, and his hand landed on your thigh. You glanced down to his hand and then back to his face.

“Put me in my place?” You smirked, glancing up at the ceiling before letting out a sultry laugh. He watched you with a hard stare, his hand gripping your thigh tighter as it slowly travelled higher up your thigh towards your core. “How?”

“I’ll fuck you so hard and so good, you’ll be screaming my name so loud that you won’t have a voice left to backchat me.” He leaned in, pressing a very soft kiss to your jawline that you hardly felt it. His breath was warm against your skin made a tickling sensation ripple down your spine.

“Oh yeah?” You tried to play it cool, but your voice wavered, and your hands started to shake.

“Mmm.” His other hand came up to cup your cheek, tilting your head back to give him better access to run his lips over your neck. “I’m going to take you on the backseat of the car I bought with drug money, your tight little pussy is going to be so wet but if you make any mess on my leather seats, I’m going to make you regret it baby girl.” Your hold on your dignity and tough façade slipped as you let out a gentle whimper, his words making your puss throb in need. “Call me Haechan.” He didn’t want you to moan the name you knew him by, feeling as if it would ruin the mood for him.

“Put me in my place…Haechan.” He moved his lips to yours, mashing them against yours in a hot, filthy kiss that was full of tongue and passion. You tried your hardest to win the battle, but ultimately, he won, his tongue infiltrating your mouth as his lips moved in perfect time with your own. He sat back in his seat, grabbing you by the hips and dragging you over to sit on his lap. You ground down against his crotch, moving your lips to his neck where his tattoo was. He smirked, his cock getting harder the more pressure you put on it.

“Do you like my tattoo baby girl?” He moaned, his eyelids drooping as he basked in the pleasure you were bestowing upon him. You nodded, nipping at his skin as you circled your hips. “Fuck, get in the back. Now.” He commanded, giving your ass a squeeze. You scrambled into the back, nearly kicking him in the face as you tried to squish yourself through the small gap between the front seats. He used the doors as his way of getting into the back, shutting the backdoor as he slid into the back. You smirked at him, sat facing him with your legs open.

“You gonna put me in my place now?” You raised an eyebrow, biting your bottom lip in anticipation. He growled lowly in his throat, grabbing your legs and pulling you towards him so that your body slid down onto the backseats. He pushed your hoodie up, happy to find that you didn’t have a t-shirt on underneath, and he had easy access to your bra. He leaned over you, placing kisses across your breast and nipping at them as he pushed your bra up. Taking one of your nipples into his mouth, he tugged it with his teeth before giving it a long, hard suck. Your mouth fell slack, a euphoria of feelings starting to blossom inside of your stomach as you watched his pouty lips work at your nipple. He used his thumb and finger to play with your other nipple, making sure it got just as much attention as the one in between his wet lips. With a pop, he let go of your nipple, trailing his tongue down your abdomen, leaving a wet trail of saliva as he reached your jeans. He made light work of taking off your jeans, tossing them onto the front seat so they weren’t in his way. He was happy to see that there was a damp spot on your silky white panties. Your wetness making the fabric stick to your pussy as he pulled them down your legs. He slipped them into the back pocket of his jeans with a smirk.

You started to feel really hot, despite the chill outside of the car. The windows fogged up, and you regretted wearing a hoodie as it was now pushed up underneath your chin. Haechan must have gotten hot too, as he pulled the jumper from his body and discarded of it in the same place that your jeans were. Your eyes were glued on his chest, noticing a tattoo of bird wings that stretched across his entire chest and met in the middle, where a heart was. It wasn’t the design of an actual heart, but more of the commonly known sign for a heart with the heart being the only coloured part of the tattoo. Attached to the heart, was a snake’s head biting into the heart with its fangs. It was then you let your eyes follow the snake’s body, which wrapped around one of the wings before descending down his arm, the tail ending just above his wrist. You also noticed that on his right arm he had an entire sleeve of tattoos, all of them blending perfectly together, some coloured, some black. You whimpered at the sight, too focused on the artwork on his body to notice that his mouth was hovering over your dripping cunt. He was staring at up you, waiting for your eyes to find his own as he watched them scale over his torso. He smirked as you looked at his face once more, his tongue dragging from your clenching hole to your sensitive clit, his hot breath making a chill rush through you.

“Wait!” He pulled away suddenly and looked down at you with cautious eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Erm…have you got anything on you?” You timidly asked, biting your bottom lip in anticipation at his answer.

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head in curiosity.

“…Drugs.” Your voice wavered, nervous to his reaction to you asking him for drugs.

“Oh. Yeah, but I’ve only got one type I think.” He reached forward into the front of the car, opening the glove compartment on the dash and pulling out a sunglasses case. He also grabbed a little silver packet and sat back against the backdoor. You watched as he opened the glasses case, pulling out a little bag of pills.

“Ecstasy?” You asked, but you already knew the answer. He gave you a curt nod and spoke with a low tone.

“You done this before?” He raised the eyebrow that had a slit in it at you. You nodded eagerly and gulped, not willing to tell him the story about your drug use that you kept hidden in a deep place within you. He felt slightly hesitant about giving you the drug but pulled one of the pink pills that were shaped like a teddy bear out of the tiny packet. “Open.” You opened your mouth and held out your tongue slightly, watching with keen eyes as he popped the pill on his own tongue and leaned forward, pushing his tongue against your own and successfully transferring the pill into your mouth. You swallow the pill without any hesitancy or regret and laid back against the seat as he put the glasses case with the pills back into glove compartment. He got back into position and started to lap at your still oozing cunt.

“Fuck! Haechan!” You squealed, parting your legs further and resting one of your feet on the headrest of the backseat, the other rising up so that your knee was pressed to your chest. It was cramped in the back of his car, but you were thankful, as he had no choice but to be as close to you as he possibly could be. He swirled his tongue around your folds, spreading your essence with his sinful tongue. His pouty lips wrapped around your clit and sucked harshly causing your hips to buck. The taste of your wetness almost had his eyes rolling into the back of his head. And if it were up to him, he’d happily eat your cunt all night. But eventually, after twenty minutes of eating you out like he was eating his last meal on death row, his twitching cock in his pants had other ideas and sent him a little reminder that he wanted to bury himself so deep inside of your warmth that he could see his cock poking through your stomach. So he reluctantly pulled his messy fingers from your velvety walls and let your clit go from between his lips. Your legs were shaking from the orgasm he’d given you, and you knew he was stalling to give the drug you’d taken time to kick in.

He sat back, unzipping his jeans and pulling his member out. He let out a soft moan as he wrapped his hand around it, giving it a firm pump as pre-cum leaked from the tip. He ripped the silver packet and took out the condom, rolling it onto his cock and pressing the head against your opening. He looked into your eyes and noticed that your pupils had double in size, and your eyes were slightly wider as you stared up at the ceiling of his car, a big smile plastered on your face.

“You good baby?” He tapped your leg to gain your attention back on his face. You raised your head and blinked rapidly at him, nodding your head in confirmation and letting out a giddy laugh. You felt happiness hit you, and you felt like you wanted to give Haechan a big kiss and cling onto him out of gratitude for the orgasm he’d blessed you with. He chuckled at you and rolled his eyes; just glad you were seemingly enjoying yourself. Without any warning, he slid his cock inside of you, a deep moan vibrating from his chest as your silky walls sucked him in perfectly. Your arms went limp and they laid either side of your head uselessly.

“Shit.” You gasped, letting your head fall back and knock on the door of the car. “Ow.” You mumbled, momentarily squeezing your eyes shut as you felt the pain rumble around your head before it subsided. Haechan didn’t wait for you to adjust, he just started to thrust into you as hard and as fast as he could. You kept your eyes pinned on his arm, swearing you could see the snake tattoo on his arm move its tail, looking like it was constricting his arm. His lips found purchase on your neck, and he bit at it hard, sucking a dark bruise onto your sweaty skin before licking at the salty skin, finding you more addicting than any drug he could possibly take. He varied between fast thrusts and slow thrusts, stopping momentarily every thirty seconds or whenever you went suspiciously quiet just to check up on you.

You couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but the knot inside of your stomach tightened like the snake around Haechan’s arm until it snapped and you could see fireworks going off inside of the car as your orgasm rushed over you like a tsunami of cold water.

“Fuck baby.” He moaned, feeling how your walls pulsed around him. He leaned down and rested his forehead on your breasts, shutting his eyes with so much force that he saw stars behind his eyelids. High pitched whimpers, that had you wrapping your arms around him tight, left his parted, plump lips as his thrusts got sloppy. He came inside of the condom with one final moan, his eyes slowly opened as he rode out his orgasm, his hips slowly to a stop before he pulled out of you, reaching for some of the Starbucks napkins in the cupholder to use for the clean-up. He tucked his cock away after throwing the condom out of the car.

“It’s bad to litter.” You commented, sitting yourself up and feeling like you didn’t have much control over your jaw as it swayed.

“Shh.” He hushed you and dressed you, both of you sitting in the back of his car the way the car manufacturer had intended people to actually use the backseat of a car. He had his arm around you and let out a soft laugh. He still hadn’t put his jumper on, but he had cracked open one of the windows an inch to let some of the cold night air in. You cuddled up against his shoulder, feeling a strange loved up sensation that made you want to never let go of him. He didn’t mind, he knew it was one of the side effects of the drug he’d supplied you with. He also loved cuddles, not that ever let anyone know that or admit it if someone accused him of it.

“Mum…” You read out loud, causing him to look down at you with a confused frown.

“Huh?”

“Your tattoo. It’s a sunflower and it says mum on the stem.” You pointed out, not really sure why you were letting your mouth run when it didn’t really need to be spoken about. But the beautiful sunflower tattoo he had on the inside of his arm next to the snake tail had your heart spitting in wonder. In very tiny letters, the word mum was written in Korean characters. “Ha…mummy’s boy.” You sniggered. He rolled his eyes and pulled away from you, pulling on his jumper awkwardly.

“I ain’t no mummy’s boy.” He climbed through to the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. “I’m taking you home.” You rushed to climb through to the passenger’s seat, wanting to be beside him for the journey. “How bad are your come downs?” He glanced at you as he started to drive. You picked up your now cold hot chocolate and sipped at it, shrugging and humming.

“Not bad.” You lied, not wanting to tell him the truth. You didn’t want him to know that side of you. He wasn’t your friend, nor was he your boyfriend. And you sure as hell weren’t his responsibility. He was simply someone you knew from school who you fucked in the middle of nowhere. This thought had your heart aching, and you felt the start of your come down taking full effect. He gave you a small nod and drove the rest of the way in silence.

When he stopped outside of your apartment building, he turned his head to you, giving you a smirk. “We should do this again, no strings attached though.”

“Okay. No strings attached.” You agreed. If there were no strings attached, then there was nothing that could snap and hurt you. Right?

You exchanged numbers and climbed out of his car into the cold night, feeling a horrible surge of nausea rush over you. But you couldn’t tell if it was the ecstasy, or your new drug, Haechan.

---

I haven’t proof read this yet so sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes! Let me know what you think! Haechan has been the most anticipated member for this series so I’m really excited to know what you think of the plot so far! Let me know! What do you think is going to happen in Part 2?)

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bonjour-rainycity · 3 years

Text

Double Heart | Chapter Three ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG

Word count: 3857

Warnings: None

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A/n Thanks for your response to the previous chapters! I hope you all are doing well <3

In the morning, it’s Orophin who wakes me. I accept his offer of breakfast readily, even if it’s more of the same bread and now-soggy fruit. Rumil offers me a knowing smile, promising more interesting food once we sit at Elrond’s table, and I hold on to that hope. After a hasty breakfast, I work on finishing mending the two tunics. I’m nearly done when I feel a presence behind me and turn my head.

Haldir stands, tall and intimidating as ever, peering over my shoulder.

I purse my lips, trying to hold in a laugh. His behavior is so much stranger than that of the others. “Yes?”

He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing my work, then nods once. “That will do. Thank you for your work.” He raises his voice so all can hear. “We leave in ten minutes.” He holds out a hand, and I place the shirts there, still trying to get over hearing the words ‘thank you’ from him. I honestly didn’t think he was the type.

The more you know, I guess.

Like the others, I hurry to pack my things. Because, over the limited time I’ve spent with this group, I quickly came to realize that when Haldir says ten minutes, he actually means ten minutes, and only ten minutes. I stifle a laugh. Mara would never—

A gasp tears through my throat, and I drop my bag.

Sharp tings ring through the air — the sound of metals scraping against each other. Absently, I recognize it as the sound of swords being drawn from their scabbards.

Haldir appears at my side, gripping my elbow and drawing me nearer to him. “What is it?” His voice is low, urgent, and, though he speaks to me, his eyes never pause their scan of our surroundings.

Belatedly, I realize my error. Of course they would think I saw something of concern. But the memory is taking form now, my head begins to pound and ache with the effort, and I have to work to assemble a sentence. I don’t want to lose focus, to lose the memories. “No, it’s—” I try to explain, try to communicate that we’re not in any danger—that I know of. “I only…” I bring a hand to my temple and take a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. “It’s not an attack, sorry for scaring you guys. It’s just, well, I’m remembering something.”

Baranor jogs over to me, sheathing his sword. Haldir is much slower to relax, and releases my arm in favor of walking the perimeter of our camp.

“Tell us about it,” Baranor encourages. “It might help you recall more.”

“It’s nothing helpful or important,” I preface apologetically, but he only waves it off.

“Any memory is a sign of recovery. Now, go on!”

“Okay.” I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to remember as much as possible. The initial ache in my head is fading, though it sharpens when I try to concentrate too hard on any one detail. “I was thinking of how I better hurry up and get my supplies together because Haldir is the type of person—well, you guys would say ellon, I guess—who means what he says, so I sure as hell better be ready in ten minutes. Then, out of nowhere, I remembered a friend from home—Mara. She’s…” the memory warps and dips out of sight, but I chase after it, feeling my pulse race. I want to remember. I want to know more. The memory comes back to me and I am rewarded for my efforts with more details about my friend. “She’s taller than me but shorter than you, has a pixie cut, and always wears these ridiculous blue sneakers, no matter the occasion.” I feel a pang of fondness for this important person I’ve only just remembered. Is this what missing someone is like? “But I think she came to mind because she’s always late, to the point where, if I hosted a party or something, I would have to tell her it started earlier than it did in the hope that she would show up on time. Oh, it would make—” And the progress stops. I strain my mind, trying to force it to go deeper, to learn more, to try harder, but nothing happens. All I receive in return is a splitting headache, one that makes me grimace against the pain. I can’t remember anything else about Mara, or place her in any other memories, or find the person she always angered with her tardiness.

Feeling a little defeated, I shrug.

Baranor gives me an encouraging smile, shaking his head. “You are doing well. I think, with adequate rest and time for your head to heal, and perhaps some intervention of Elrond’s, you will have your memory restored. Do not lose hope.”

I accept his reassurance, as well as his leg-up for the horse, and spend the remainder of the morning wracking my brain, searching for more memories of a friend I didn’t know I had.

{***}

By midday, the sun is bearing down on us hotter than it has before. I shed my cloak, using my newly acquired riding proficiency to keep my balance while tucking the fabric into my bag. I glance at my companions, each of whom wears a metal chest plate, a bow and quiver on his back, and various swords and knives on his belt. It makes me feel overheated just looking at them. “How are you all not miserable in that armor? I’m burning up and I’m just in a tunic and leggings!”

“Ah, dear Cosima, you are mistaken.” Rumil pulls up next to me and Baranor, shaking his head in mock sadness. “You see, we are miserable. We are absolutely baking with all the added weight we carry.”

From his spot ahead of us, Orophin snorts, a noise I’m not sure I’ve ever heard from him. “This is nothing, little brother. You weren’t part of the guard when Haldir made us run for miles during the hottest part of the day in the hottest part of the summer in full battle armor and weaponry for seven days in a row.”

“Ah, yes.” Haldir chimes in, and I can hear the hint of a smile in his voice. It softens it slightly, makes him sound less harsh. “I remember that drill. Perhaps I should bring it back. It seems the newer members of the guard aren’t as well-adjusted as those who went through such special training.”

Rumil visibly pales. “Haldir you wouldn’t.”

“Oh I most certainly would,” he shoots back, his signature haughty tone coming forth once again. But he turns his head over his shoulder, giving his youngest brother a teasing look.

I laugh, caught off guard by Haldir’s playfulness and Rumil’s woeful expression. Haldir returns facing forward and rolls his shoulder back, seeming perfectly pleased with the knowledge that he can still torment his little brother. I twist to stick my tongue out at Rumil, who responds with a glare.

“I wouldn’t laugh if I were you, Cosima.” I snap my head back in Haldir’s direction. Surely he’s not… “If you decide to return to Lothlórien with us, I am having you fitted with armor for the return journey.” He turns over his shoulder once more, fixing me with a single raised eyebrow. “And it will be well into summer by then.”

He turns away, apparently not phased by the quiet chuckles of Orophin and Baranor, nor the gleeful guffaws of Rumil.

“Rude,” I mutter under my breath, but this only makes them all laugh harder.

The sparse cloud cover shifts and the rays of the sun concentrate on the top of my head. Its warmth knots and multiples in the tangles of my hair, and I want nothing more than to have some relief from the awful heat. I grimace, wishing I had something to use to put my hair up. I steal jealous looks at my companions who call themselves elves. Their hair is just as long as mine and it doesn’t seem to bother them one bit. While mine collects frizz like it’s gold, their hair remains perfectly straight and smooth, falling over their shoulders almost languidly. My inspection of their hair reveals something I hadn’t taken much notice of before — the subtle yet intricate braids each of them wears. And though there is hair wrapped around the end of each braid, obscuring what I hope is there, something has to be holding the braids in place—right? Otherwise, they would fall and sit straight like the hair is made to.

It’s worth the ask.

I raise my voice a bit, calling out to the whole group. “Long shot, but does anyone have a hair tie? Preferably big enough for me to get around all of my hair?”

Orophin and Baranor shake their heads. Rumil makes a show of checking his wrists and the pouch attached to his belt, but comes back with only a look of apology.

Shoot.

Though he never falters in keeping his horse at a quick pace, I notice Haldir twist slightly, rummaging through one of his bags. Quick as a flash, he tosses something behind him which Rumil catches easily, though I myself can barely follow the object’s movements. Rumil grins, presenting me with a tan, thin circle of leather. He demonstrates spreading his fingers and the leather stretches.

I take the hair tie, smiling broadly. Perfect. “Thanks, Haldir!” He says nothing, only nods in acknowledgment. I fight the urge to roll my eyes. He’s back to business, then.

Rumil brings his horse closer to the one Baranor and I ride, and I notice even Orophin shooting me interested looks. I raise an eyebrow self-consciously. “What?”

Rumil scrutinizes the hair tie, then the waves that fall down my back. “What are you going to do with a tie that large?”

I squint, partially at the shift in the sun’s angle, and partially in confusion at Rumil’s question. “I’m…going to put it up in a bun?” The looks they give me have me questioning my choice. Is that wrong, somehow?

Baranor tilts his head towards me as much as he can. “A bun?”

“Yeah, I—wait.” I pause, recalling that they only way they’ve worn their hair so far is down with the small braids added in. “Do you guys leave your hair down all the time?”

“For the most part.” Rumil shrugs. “Sometimes during battle or heavy training we will tie it all back in one or a few braids, but elves traditionally let their hair grow long and leave it down.”

“Interesting,” I murmur, taking the time to really look at each of their heads. Haldir, Rumil, and Orophin’s braids have similarities, but are in no way identical, and Baranor’s are completely different. I begin to catch on. “So, do the braids mean something, then?”

“Exactly,” Rumil nods, a twinkle in his eye. “It’s up to the elf to decide what to put in their hair, but most at least indicate where they hail from and from which family. Most warriors will denote who they are with braids—healers and scholars, too. If you are courting, that’s a specific braid as well, to show other elves that you are off-limits unless the courtship is broken.”

I smile, seeing their hair in a whole new light. “I never knew they meant something. The braids are beautiful.”

Rumil tosses his hair in my direction, letting me see the interlocking twists and tucks of a complicated ladder braid. “Mine the most, right?”

I roll my eyes, shooting my cheeky companion a grin. “If you say so.”

But all this talk of hair is reminding me just how hot my own is making me, and I am endlessly grateful for the means to put it up. I grip the horse tighter with my legs, preparing to release my arms from Baranor’s stabilizing middle. “Don’t let me fall,” I whisper, nerves gathering in my stomach as I chance a look at the ground passing under the horse’s thundering hooves.

“Of course,” he nods, and I swear the horse rides smoother.

Tentatively, I unwrap my arms from the thing that steadies me, putting more hope into my legs to keep me on the horse. I take a few deep breaths, straightening my back and keeping myself as still as possible while continuing to rock with the horse. Once I feel solid, I reach my hands up, gathering my hair. I don’t remember the last time I did this, but the muscle memory is there. I pull my hair into a high ponytail, beginning to twist the long strands around each other.

The horse jolts and I suck in a breath, feeling my body jerk to the right. Rumil shoots out an arm, steading me quickly. I give him a look of relieved thanks and continue, twisting my hair with one hand and wrapping the tie with the other. From the corner of my eye, I notice Orophin slow his horse a little, falling back to ride closer to us. He alternates between watching our surroundings and shooting curious glances at my hair. With a final twist, the bun is secured, and I take a moment to pull at the top and the sides so it’s not too tight.

Smiling broadly, I drop my arms, wrapping them around Baranor once again. “Ha! I did it!”

“Great job,” Rumil grins, voice thick with sarcasm. “Soon you will be able to shoot a bow while riding at a full gallop.”

Orophin snorts at his brother’s joke, speeding up once again to return to his place near Haldir.

“Oh, be quiet,” I snark, just happy to have a little relief from the heat.

A low bird call sounds from somewhere around us, and I tilt my head upwards, looking for the source. I’ve never heard a twitter like that before. “What kind—”

“Shh,” Rumil hisses, all traces of humor gone. I turn to him in confusion, then notice the way each of them sits straighter, more tense, a hand on the weapon nearest to him. I shrink against Baranor, heart beginning to race.

Something’s wrong.

I guess I wouldn’t know for sure, but I have the sneaking suspicion that I’ve never been in a fight. And, while I have no reason to doubt these men that I’ve somehow come to trust in such a short time, how can I really know if they are as great warriors as they say? For all I know, their perception of themselves could be horribly skewed, and we’re about to be attacked and overpowered.

I feel my hands shaking.

Baranor inclines his head in my direction, catching my attention. “It’s alright. It is just one man, as far as we can tell, but Haldir will want to ascertain that we are not walking into a trap. Stay silent and do not draw attention to yourself. We are going to approach him.”

As if on some unspoken order, Haldir and Orophin draw their swords. Rumil takes the bow from his back and smoothly nocks an arrow. I try to exhale quietly, fear making my breath catch in my throat. I tighten my grip around Baranor and press my forehead against the cool metal of his chest plate. Part of me feels incredibly wimpy hiding behind him, but the part of me in charge of survival instincts says I should be doing more…like, running in the opposite direction, perhaps.

Our horses slow and I try calm my racing heart.

We come to a stop.

“Identify yourself.” Haldir’s voice is always strong, always full of authority, but this is like I’ve never heard it before. It rings with both confidence and the sharp edge of a threat. If this was my first encounter with him, I would be shaking in my boots.

Silence.

I can practically feel the tension in the air.

The stress of not knowing what’s going on, not knowing what I’m facing, adds to my fear. I exhale, gathering my courage. I’m gonna have to look. Leaving myself no time to change my mind, I stretch my head to the side, peeking around Baranor’s shoulder.

And the memories come rushing back.

“Alex,” I breathe, my body feeling hot and cold all at once.

His head snaps from Haldir’s to mine, and the color drains from his face. “Cosima!”

I swing my leg over the horse’s back and jump to the ground. I’ve never gotten off the horse without help, and the force with which I hit the earth sends shocks of pain up my body. I ignore it, pushing myself to meet Alex as he runs towards me. We collide, gripping each other in a tight hug.

“What,” I gasp, pressing my face into the crook of his neck. I burst into tears. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here, what about you?” He pulls back slightly, gripping my arms and looking me over. “Why are you crying, what’s wrong? Have they hurt you?” He sends an accusatory glare at the men behind me.

I follow his gaze, noticing for the first time that Orophin has dismounted and stands near my shoulder, glowering at Alex.

I hurry to set the record straight. “No. No, they’ve been nothing but kind and helpful.” I sniffle, running a sleeve over my cheek. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

He smiles, placing a hand on my neck and pulling me back into a hug. “It’s okay. It’s just the stress.” At his words and the comforting motion of his hand running up and down my back, my tears begin to subside.

I hear the soft sound of boots connecting with dirt and turn just in time to see Haldir striding up to us, falling in line next to Orophin. Like his brother, he sets Alex with a hard, untrusting gaze. “You are traveling alone?”

Alex’s jaw tightens. “You kidnapped my friend?”

I twist out of Alex’s hold, turning so I can keep both him and my companions in view.

Haldir’s expression doesn’t change, he only raises his chin in defiance of Alex’s accusation. “We are elves, guardians of the great realm of Lothlórien, traveling upon invitation to Imladris. We found Cosima alone, like you, and offered her our aid. If, perhaps, you become more cooperative, we would be prepared to extend the same offer to you.”

Alex leans forward and Haldir raises an eyebrow, as if daring him to make a move. Orophin’s weight shifts to his back foot. I angle myself to face Alex, gripping his elbows. “It’s okay, honestly. If it weren’t for them I’d be dead by now. They can help you, too. Just answer their questions.”

Alex continues to glare, but I can see the resolve leave him. He looked peaked, and weak, and dark shadows sit under his hazel eyes. How long has he been here? Would I look like this, if the others hadn’t found me?

“Yes,” he acquiesces. “I’m traveling alone. I woke up on the riverbank three days ago and have been wandering around looking for civilization since. I don’t remember anything before that other than my name—Alexander. Now I remember Cosima too, and my nickname, I guess.”

Baranor slides off his horse, joining us with the bag I recognize as the one keeping his healing supplies. Haldir holds up a hand, stopping Baranor’s approach.

“Two humans that know each other wake up on the bank of the same river on the same day with no memory. One was strange enough, but two?” He looks between me and Alex, eyebrow raised. “Perhaps Elrond can offer insight.”

“Elrond,” Alex questions, his voice guarded once again.

I explain before Haldir and his attitude can. “He’s a friend of theirs in a city across the mountains. That’s where they’re traveling, so it’s where we’re going, too.”

Alex sets me with a look that quite obviously questions my sanity. “You agreed to follow them to another town through the mountains?”

I recoil at his tone, as well as the attack on my common sense. “Yes, I did. Because they’re nice and my only other option was waiting along the riverbank hoping another equally helpful party came along. Because if you haven’t noticed, Alex, there aren’t any cities here. It’s not like I can just walk up to someone’s house and call for help.”

He sighs, running a hand through his unkempt sandy hair. “But you could have waited. I was walking in that direction, I would have found you eventually.”

I throw my hands in the air, actually annoyed now. “There’s no way either of us could have known the other was here! I woke up the same as you did—with nothing. No context, no memories, no supplies. In light of that, I don’t think we’re in the position to be picky when help comes our way. We have to adapt, Alex, and quickly. It won’t end well for us if we don’t.”

His lip curls at my words. I try to soften my tone, knowing we are heading for an argument and that isn’t helpful to anyone right now. “You’re tired. You’ve been wandering for three days, I’m guessing without enough food or rest. Let us help you.”

Alex looks between me and the men behind me. With a start, I realize that I’ve just encountered a long-lost friend, someone quite important to me based on the onslaught of memories, and, to him, it must seem that I’m abandoning him in favor of taking the side of these newcomers. Guilt weighs uncomfortably in my stomach.

“Okay,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’ll go along with this—for now.”

Haldir nods, already walking towards his horse. “We ride until nightfall, then we will stop for food and rest. Be prepared to ride hard. We must make up for the time we lost with all this bickering.” Aside from the usual command in his tone, there’s a note of annoyance. He is so impatient.

I give Alex one last hug, feeling bad for my treatment of him. He’s my only link to my home, the only person here I can really, truly trust. I shouldn’t be at odds with him. “We’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.” He doesn’t respond, only follows me to the horses.

Baranor bends to give me a leg up, but a voice halts us both. “Cosima, you ride with Rumil now. Baranor—keep Alexander on the back of your horse.”

Why? I glance at Haldir in confusion. He eyes me steadily, shaking his head once. I sigh, deciding to go along with it. I give Baranor a small wave of goodbye and join Rumil.

“On to bigger and better things, then?” He winks, kneeling and locking his fingers together.

“Oh, shut up,” I roll my eyes, chuckling as I step into his hands and swing my leg over the horse. He settles in front of me and takes the reins, and, before I know it, this company of five has become a company of six.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make me oh so happy! Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged, try subscribing to the story on Ao3! That will update you automatically when I post there.

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