#here's to another year of not doing a full-body until i awake to sudden motivation in the ungodly hours of the morning

[velvetrambles]

A little late but here she is! (Again) @scaryscarecrows (No bats were harmed in the making of this drawing! At least I think so..)

#velvet attempts art #kitty richardson #first time doing a full-body in a while so excuse some of the mistakes lol #here's to another year of not doing a full-body until i awake to sudden motivation in the ungodly hours of the morning #other than all of that #i had a blast drawing her again #and this definitely won't be the last time i do it #:) #might do antoine at some point in the future as well #no promises it'll be soon #but it's on the table

[en-hale-archives]

Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

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When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

“Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

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(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

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None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)

#jake x reader #jake smut #jake scenarios #jake imagines #jake suggestive #enhypen jake #jake enhypen #enhypen x reader #jake fluff #enhypen scenerios #enhypen suggestive #shim jake #kpop smut #kpop suggestive #jake sim #jake #enhypen #!kay! writer #enhypen hard hours #new writers on tumblr

[ahkaahshi]

1:32 AM [hirugami sachirou x reader]

pairing: hirugami sachirou x fem reader

genre: fluff with sprinkles of angst

warning(s): descriptions of catastrophic thinking/anxiety, brief mentions of death, swearing

word count: 2.5k

overview: when hirugami’s old habits of rumination come back to haunt him, there’s only one person who can bring him peace

By the time it’s 1:32 AM, Hirugami has spent no less than a half hour staring at the digitized numbers of the alarm clock cutting through the darkness, watching the precious seconds and minutes of sleep tick away before his eyes. A strange haze hangs over him, and it’s as if his ears have been stuffed with cotton, amplifying all the thoughts pounding against his skull. For a moment, there’s an eerie silence in his head, during which he can hear the leaves whispering in the breeze outside of his window, and he thinks he’s finally falling asleep, but the quietude is painfully temporary.

With a heavy sigh, he turns on his back and stares up at the ceiling, giving his thoughts a moment to surface individually, like bubbles rising to meet the daylight shining down on a body of water.

When will what I do ever be enough?

Did I really choose the right path in life?

Would I still feel this way if my life had played out differently?

When will these thoughts stop?

Rumination is nothing new to him. Despite being able to keep the habit tucked away for a majority of his high school years with both yours and Hoshiumi’s help, he finds that it often comes back to haunt him at the most unexpected times. His week at work had been as smooth as it could be given he was a busy veterinarian, yet he’d felt a knot of something—uncertainty?—forming within him over the course of the past few days. Where it had originated from he had no clue, but it was proving to be a formidable opponent now, in the late hours of the evening while the rest of the neighborhood slept.

The journal on his bedside table catches his attention, and as much as he knows he should take a moment to pen down his troubles in an attempt to put them to rest, his hands feel too heavy to move. Just making the simple trip from his chest to the table feels like the most effortful task in the universe. He does, however, find the strength and motivation to reach for his phone lying beside him where he’d tossed it in agony after realizing he was using it far too long after bedtime.

His eyelids instinctively narrow at the sudden influx of light that spills onto his face from the screen when he turns it on, even though the brightness is at its lowest setting. Lazy drags of his fingertips find him face to face with your smiling contact photo, and sluggish taps compose a more to-the-point text message than he usually sends asking if you’re still awake. Gray dots appearing, then promptly disappearing along the bottom of his screen proves that you are—and in an instant, he’s answering a call from you.

“What’s up, Sachi?” you ask, voice more chipper than he’d expect at this hour.

“Nothin’ much,” he lies with a yawn. Hearing his voice weighted so heavily with fatigue makes your heart sink in your chest. “What’re you up to?”

He can hear rustling through the phone as you readjust the blankets ensconcing you to pull them up to your shoulders again. Gazing at your glowing computer screen, you respond, “Just watching a movie,” before asking, “Everything okay?”

“Just having trouble getting to sleep, is all,” he explains, the words leaving his mouth in another exasperated groan, “So, I thought I’d talk to my favorite person if she was still awake.”

Jokingly, you comment, “I won’t tell Kourai you said that, yeah?”

He chuckles. “Thanks.”

A comfortable moment of silence passes, during which you shuffle your feet beneath the covers to warm them up and he allows his eyelids to flutter shut so he can focus his full attention on the sound of your voice when you speak again. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Don’t you get tired of it, (f/n)?”

“Of what, baby?”

“Of listening to me talk myself in circles when I’m like this and hearing about the same issues over and over again?”

Though there’s a hint of irritation laced in his tone, you know it’s directed at himself rather than at you. “Sachi, you can talk about whatever you want as much as you want. I know how much you keep to yourself, so it’s okay. I just want to help, since I know how exhausting it must be for you to deal with.” There’s a short pause, and you know from experience that his mind is most likely distorting your words, forming them into daggers he sinks into his own heart. “I promise, it’s okay to talk to me about it. Trust me.”

He blinks slowly, takes a deep breath, and agrees, “Okay.”

Pursing your lips, you glance around the darkness of your room until your eyes settle on the bag you’d already packed, ready to take to his house for your scheduled weekend visits. “Would it help if you could see my face?” you wonder, your mouth curling up into a small grin regardless of the fact that he can’t see it.

“Well,” he hums, dragging his long fingers through his chestnut brown hair, “you know I’d never turn down the opportunity to see my gorgeous girlfriend, but you’ll have to give me a minute to touch up my makeup.”

With a snicker, you retort, “You’ll have plenty of time to pull yourself together if I just come over instead.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, sweetheart. Not at this ungodly hour.”

“And you didn’t,” you reaffirm, “but I want to, so, will you let me visit a whole—” you interrupt yourself to check the time before continuing—“eight and a half hours earlier than we’d originally planned?”

“I would love that,” is his answer given without hesitation despite his initial, intrusive thought of being burdensome to you by allowing you to drive over so early in the morning.

And even though he feels himself sinking deeper and deeper into the spiral of negative ideas swirling around him like the raging waters of a whirlpool, he doesn’t regret accepting your invitation when you arrive about twenty minutes later. Upon opening the door to your car for you, he’s greeted by your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him close for a tight hug that instantly engulfs him in a warm feeling of comfort that he can’t liken to anything else he’s ever felt before from anyone else. He holds your body flush against his—even after he’s felt your grip loosen in a signal to pull away that then tightens once more at realizing he’s not quite finished yet—and acknowledges the guilt that suddenly rises within him.

How could I ever want to know how things could’ve been different when I have her?

“Thanks for coming,” he whispers, craning his neck to press a kiss to yours before finally releasing you and slinging your bag over his shoulder. The wave of cold air that rushes between your bodies at their separation nearly makes you reach for him again, but you settle for latching onto his hand instead while the two of you make your way up to his apartment. “You made it here in record time, speed racer.”

Chuckling, you joke, “Drove like I was answering a booty call.”

“I’m truly flattered.”

The gentle smile across his lips has your heart skipping a beat in your chest but doesn’t hide the fatigue clearly present on his handsome features. His hand on your back gently ushers you inside the familiar warmth of his home when he unlocks the door, and you make a beeline to his bedroom once you’ve kicked off your shoes. A look of amusement glimmers in his eyes at how quickly you settle yourself down in his bed and bury yourself under his comforter and blankets.

As he climbs into bed beside you, your hands move to the sides of his face to pull him towards you for a gentle kiss. “What’s going on, Sachi?” you murmur after your lips part. He sits on the mattress beside you, and the sinking of the bed naturally draws you closer to one another until your arms are wrapped around his torso and his draped over your shoulders.

“Just the usual,” he sighs, fingers absentmindedly grazing the fabric of your sweater, “You know, the whole wondering if I’ve done everything right bit. My mind just loves reminding me of my mistakes and going through how I could’ve handled things differently, even if the thing in question happened, like, five years ago.”

You hum understandingly and nod, focusing on his words to keep yourself awake—which is a challenge when his body feels like a lullaby.

“I’m still hung up over that dog we couldn’t save last month. Every day, I find myself thinking of the moment when his heartbeat just… stopped. And the look in his owner’s eyes when I told her he hadn’t made it. And I just wonder, what could I have done differently to keep him alive?”

He swallows thickly and breathes out a somewhat frustrated sigh. “And I replay the arguments I’ve had with people—and with you—in my head, wondering what I could’ve done to prevent them. But I know that hindsight’s twenty-twenty and that if I’d have known the answer or what was to come beforehand then it never would’ve happened to begin with. It’s so frustrating because I know this, I’ve been able to accept mistakes and let them go, yet I still beat myself up really badly over things every now and then.”

Moving away from him slightly so you can look up at him, into his weary but kind and welcoming gaze, you place your hands on his shoulders and give him a small smile. “Baby,” you say with an affectionate squeeze to his muscles, “these shoulders of yours are so strong, but they’re meant for carrying backpacks, me when I want a piggyback ride, or any kids we may or may not have in the future; not the weight of the world.”

He tilts his head to the side so he can lower his cheek onto one of your hands, spreading heat across your skin. With the way he’s watching you so intently, you can tell how much he values your words as well as the fact that you’re here, sitting in front of him instead of gazing at him through a screen.

Slowly, speaking as the thoughts enter your mind, you assure him, “It’s okay to fuck up. How would we learn if we didn’t?” You stroke his cheek with your thumb before your fingers move to his head of waves tousled haphazardly from whatever restless sleep he’d been able to get.

“Just remind yourself of the way you usually deal with mistakes. Acknowledge them, say yeah, that happened, and it sucked ass, but I’ll do better next time, and let go of them. I mean, I know it’s way, way easier said than done, but you’re really good at it. Remember all those times in high school I came to you, freaking out over the smallest things that I’d done? Who am I kidding? I still do that; but, anyway, it’s always been you who’s helped me. Give yourself the same permission to mess up.”

Your boyfriend of many years heaves a deep sigh as he lets the truth of your statements pass through his internal filter that does a fine job, unfortunately, in this case, of sifting through only the ideas he wants to believe. Though they’re met with initial resistance that only manifests as a defense mechanism, all your words manage to remain after the process like the smallest pieces of gold hidden amongst layers and layers of sediment.

Taking your hand in his, you tell him, “There aren’t really any right or wrong decisions, and I know you know that. They’re just choices you make. Mistakes are gonna happen no matter what, but you’re gonna be okay. I know you, Hirugami Sachirou, and I know how strong and determined you are. You can do what you set your mind to and with that smile on your face some people find annoying—” the grin in question appears on his lips, making you laugh—“Yeah, that one. So, get it into that big brain of yours that you’re doing your best or I’ll have to rough you up a bit.”

“I’m shaking in my boots.”

“As you should be.”

In an instant, the heavy layers of worry that had restricted him before unravel at your definitive statement, and he’s laughing while he pulls you into his arms once more. As always, his laughter is contagious, and it’s not long before you’re doing the same, body shaking against his. “Don’t unleash your wrath on me, baby; I’ll listen, I promise. And I’ll make your favorite for breakfast tomorrow,” he concedes with a teasing tone, a yawn whisking some of his words away.

“We have a deal,” you chirp, “Now, let’s go to sleep. It’s way past your bedtime, gramps.”

He complains, “You callin’ me old?” as your bodies sink down onto the soft mattress, his head pausing in its natural course towards your chest so it can hover above yours. “’Cause I found more gray hairs than I’d like to admit when I was doing my hair yesterday, so I’m actually really self-conscious about it.”

Sticking out your lower lip in a sympathetic pout, you comment, “I said you were old, but I didn’t say that you weren’t hot.”

“So, I’ve still got it, huh?”

“You’re basically a silver fox.”

A soft hum of contentment rumbles against your lips when he presses his to them to shower you with a few, affectionate kisses. Eventually, he pulls away and pecks your chin on his way to your neck, where he nestles his head as your arms readjust to accommodate his body coming to rest against yours. “Thanks, (f/n),” he mumbles, voice suddenly heavy and lethargic compared to how it had been moments earlier, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Your fingers card through his hair softly as he takes a deep breath and slides his palm along the back of your thigh to coax it around his waist so he can move his body even closer to yours. While the two of you lie together, surrounded in warmth, feeling the gentle beating of each other’s hearts against your bodies, Hirugami finds he has nothing left to worry about—no thoughts left to disturb him. And, because his mind is finally quiet and still, the ruminating beast within him quelled by your honest words and gentle touch, sleep finally comes just as easily to him as loving you does.

when night falls masterlist

when night falls taglist (send an ask to be added!)

@why-aminot-dead​​, @yamagucji​​, @toutorii​​, @shibayamasbae​​, @tsukkisbean​​, @devlovesiwa-channn​​, @captain-shittykawa​​, @ghblh​​, @postsfromthe6​​, @omibaby​​, @deerixiie​​, @oikawoahh​​, @stormlights​​

#haikyuu x reader #hirugami x reader #x reader #reader insert #hq x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #hirugami sachirou x reader #fran writes hq!! #ahkaahshi//wnf

[ameliyaahn3]

13 days series : Day One, 20th December.

Genre : Fluff, Comfort, (lame ass one) Humor.

Warning : Things get heated up at end but nothing shocking.

Word count : Around 1k800.

Summary : Akashi bringing his empress to his chalet for christmas holidays but it's also his birthday. What will Y/n prepare for him ?

Akashi Seijuro × Reader.

Even then, you weren't used of that life of luxury and comfort with Seijuro : whatever you would salivate for, he was capable to give it to you twice or in a matter of a minute -if that's not even too much-: what was for sure something you can't even dream of in your wildest fantasty. And as the wealthy man he is, once again Seijuro impressed you by bringing you on vaccation at his family chalet.

Snow was surronding the beautiful and big place when you stepped outside the car, a warm and refined hand holding your fingers at the same time. You turn your head to see your boyfriend smiling what does make you instantly excited as his eyes are slightly shining at your view. Your blood going trough your veins so fast, you can't help but wait to drag Seijuro into the house and listening to whatever he has to say about it.

You know his chalet to be somewhere he would at least visit once a year and as a place full of funny and innocent chilhood memories that conted by him would just sound so interesting. As the cold started to hit a little bit too harshly on your faces, Seijuro finally decided to guide you to the traditional house, maids and butlers behind with your baggages.

" Pleased, my love ?" You nodded positively, a grin forming on your lips, " How I could not ?" the majestous tree were absorbing your soul.

"I know that you're not always comfortable with my wealth and all thoses prestigious places but I hope this time you won't feel any discomfort being here." The way he talks so smoothely drives you naturally to look at his charming face, what do distract your attention from the unique landscape. However do you regret it ? Not even one second.

" I can't be bothered by a place that is like home for you." You said, your stomach feeling like there butterflies in it despite it does make 9 months you're together. Sensations conservating pretty good like an old bottle of wine, it's really something to be in couple with this man.

" I wish you would think of my gifts as the furnitures then." You chukle a little bit at his come-back, not bad actually but how could you not feel weird when he's offering you expensive jewerly and dates on the only motive that you're his lover ?

" Sei..."

" Because I can't imagine a world that I would truly enjoy without you, you deserve the best, Y/n. Though I've fallen for your independance, since we're one, everything mine is yours, you should not being ashamed of anything."

Seeing you opening your mouth to try to justifiate your attitude, Akashi shut it with his own, deposing a small peck on your lips that destroyed all trace of a logic and inteligent answer in your mind.

What a drag... How would you return him all he give to you the same ? Nothing that you can buy can value even the smallest thing that he had already offrered you, but it was his birthday tomorrow and except of your present you couldn't think of something appropriate to express your love to him.

" Shht, my dear. You know I'm right." He says with a smirk.

Besides making you feel like the first days, Seijuro know also how to make you pout like a child despite that you're supposed to be decently mature.

" That's not fair..."

────────── ·  ·  ·  · ✦

In front of the chimney, you observe the fire dancing, your head lies on Akashi shoulder's as he's taking a pause on his book and that a cup of hot chocolate is between your hands. It was for sure one of the most relaxing moment you ever had in the past 6 months, forgetting about school, work or whatever were drowning you down in general it was inexistant here.

" That table... I used to play on it a lot with my mother."

" What kind of games ?"

Akashi smile when he hear sincere interest in your voice, not surprised of your curiosity when it involve him even for the silliest subjects. It was one of the reason you were with him afterall and not another person.

" Cards games mostly and even if I was a child, I don't remember having similar struggles winning against my mother than anybody else till now."

" So she was an high level player ?"

" Surprisingly not and she would admit herself that she was even quite unlucky, I used to not understand why I had so much difficulties with her but now it's pretty clear that I was inconsciously doing of sort to play with her more."

" It's adorable but insulting at the same time, i don't know how I would take it if I was in her position. You didn't do this with me right ?"

"..."

His laugh makes you felt like death has suddenly taken your body and your diginity with it.

"Maybe you can try to found out yourself ?" He put his book aside, amused by the situation.

" I've never felt so insulted in my life... Seijuro affront me right now, one one." Determined by your pride you still kept your calm and called him more in a playful tone than anything else.

" You won't be mad at me when you will find out how I play with you Y/n?"

" I can't promise that... i've been believing that I was good at shogi during more than a year!"

" And you're good."

" But how do I know for real now ?"

"Alright, alright... let's play then. Even if you finish to be angry at me that wouldn't last long."

" Wha-? You know that you're irresistible and you makes benefit of it on me ?! That's vicious... and I love it against my own agreement. How do you do ? That's disgusting."

" You're doing this to me everyday, Y/n."

" No i don't..?"

" You definitely do."

You don't even bother to pursuing that thing and sit in front of the said table with cards that you found around. Today was the day of truth.

 ────────── ·  ·  ·  · ✦

After losing 13 rounds in a row you didn't bother to test Akashi again and let him with his undefeated title. But most importantly, while playing against him you didn't saw something that would say he was holding back on purpose, what surprised you and comforted you a little bit on your own skills.

After that, you decided to take an hot bath and you had a sumptuous diner which by the way makes you felt really heavy. Filled Up and clean, there was nothing that you would need in the moment and so time went by and at the end you wanted to sleep. The Emperor led you to your shared room and before letting your body enjoy a restful night, you took initiative of a cuddle session. Making soft contact with Akashi's skin, your fingers doing small circles on his palm hand and forearm.

As sleep is slowly taking you away, your boyfriend whispers lovely words in your right ear and stroke your back, plunging you into another world : Watching the snow failling gently in the window with the elegant lights of the room while being under thoses pretty sheets with Akashi Seijuro beside... Everything looked like a dream. You took a look in the direction of your hidden gift, thinking of how you would make it memorable and your eyes closed despite a sudden excitation and vague of ideas that poped in your head last minute.

During the whole night, it was like your soul aspired to wake up early and so you slept easily but as if you're body is schedulded, first hour in the morning, 5:45 am you were awake and as you were quiting bed stupid flash of the game yesterday evening came to your head making you thinking that Akashi pitiyied you because of small action in his game, you pipe that idea away and focus on your tasks.

First step was the more difficult one but you managed to get out the bed without being noticed. You wanted to make breakfast for him but also as he would wake up, wish him an happy birthday quite special with his present in your hands.

Maids bringed the bouquet of roses you requested and helped you cooking food. You had so much plans for his birthday... If you remember well, there was that Power Point waiting in your draft explaining how perfect he is and why he should be happy, healthy and live so much years more. But you didn't carry on that idea as that wasn't amazing enough and that in fact that would be just you acting as a fangirl of your boyfriend during an hour at least.

You watch at the time, knowing that your lover used to being awake around 6:30-7:00 also on weekends while during winter even the sun doesn't rise that early.

You walk into the room, taking your gift quickely and in silence, posing the plate of breakfast that you tried your best to please him with. Well, you look at him to see that he's sligthly waking up, a smile grows on your lips.

Once you see one of those red orbs open, you heart skips a beat, Akashi sit on his bed a genuine smile as he see you.

" Good morning, Y/n."

and you can't help but kiss him.

" Happy birthday Seijuro!"

As you crash your lips in a sweet and chaste manner yet still filled with an unquestionable passion, you give him roses and put on evidence the breakfast. The smell of roses mixed with delicious plates increasing Akashi joy even if he doesn't show it in an obvious way.

" You didn't have to do this, Y/n... But it makes me really happy, Thank you."

" Do not thank me yet..! I haven't given you everything and you deserve the best."

You lay on his hand the package, letting him being curious to what is it. After taking a glance at you, he decide to open your gift and see an antique but expensive -for someone of your class- watch with his and your initials, because the clock is foldable when you unclip it, you can see a picture of his mother that you've put.

Akashi seemed quite touched and took your hand in his, a soft and nostalgic expression on his face.

" I obvisouly can't offer you one of the newer and expensive jewerly but I was sure that this one would be at your liking."

Emotional value combined with an utilitarian purpose, not to mention the style.

" And it is, you did well Y/n. It's until now the most valuable item I have in my possesion... I will cherish your present."

" And I will cherish you... Doesn't it sounded like a weeding vows ? Haha... However I will cherish you for real and in all the way possible so even if I can't give you as much as you do in terms of material... My affection would value at least as much if it's not even a lot more."

You said that while coming closer to him, eyes full of desire and of need to proove your love. Akashi put all thoses object you bring in bed on the nearest table as a more lewd expression took place on his face.

" Convince me."

And you were already under him.

" Maybe this one would be my favorite birthday."

#akashi seijuro #knb #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basuke #anime #manga #akashi seijuro x reader #happy birthday #i love him without my consent help #really i can even try to not like him #i love him more than i would admit #13 days

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Teenage Dirtbag

(Cormac x Jeanie)

Warnings: fluff and smut

A/N: Cormac feels bittersweet about his abnormal teenage years, but a tryst at the abandoned O'Keefe's College with Jeanie changes his mind about what never was.

The last of my birthday weekend self-indulgent drabbles. I dug deep and pulled Cormac back to the front of the closet to wear just for today.

Jeanie inhaled the scent of moss and rain that filled the air around the abandoned boarding school. If it weren't for Cormac, Hannah and Brett this was surely how her own building would end up in a few years. She didn't mind the dynamic it created between her and her boyfriend, or that the purchase was for some ulterior scientific motive. She got to keep the kids and her job, and he got to maintain one of the last untapped portals.

Now they were in Galway where everything started. Or, as Jeanie pointed out once she knew the stories, Cormac’s friends gaslit him for an entire semester.

“That's how comic book villains are born,” she watched as he turned on the power grid and fumbled around with his necklace.

“I suppose,” his catch phrase, “But even Tony Stark created a murder robot. He scrunched his nose and scratched his head in the most adorable way. Then something clicked.

“Tony Stark is a murder robot.”

A calming female voice responded before Cormac had the chance. “Tony Stark is more closely related to a cyborg than a robot. Good morning, Cormac. Jeanie.”

“See how she uses disdain when she speaks to me?! Jarvis doesn't speak like that.”

“Silvia doesn't have disdain for you. She's a computer program.”

Jeanie and Silvia spoke collectively, “I'm an artificial intelligence system.” The schoolteacher pointed at nothing as if to say even they can agree on her being beyond just a program.

“I'm also not female or male, I am a sexless non-binary system. You decided to gender me when you were fourteen years old based on the voice modulation you placed inside of me. I have no body or sexual organs.”

“You just got out Cormac’d!” Jeanie teased as his cheeks grew rosy.

“Come on, I'll show you around.”

----

The next few hours were like visiting a museum of Cormac’s memories. He admitted that he had the ability to go to university much earlier than most anticipated, but he hung around because he actually enjoyed the small group of friends he accumulated his years at O’Keefe’s. Even if his relationship with Martin, the resident Draco Malfoy, was contentious. Even if they were understaffed, underfunded and simply unable to accommodate any real science program. He felt a sense of duty to the school that kept him safe when his Nan could not.

“I could have gone with my mum’s side in Dublin if I wanted. My aunt was just worried what I might just get up to if I did.”

“What, like a criminal?” Jeanie burst into a fit of giggles picturing Cormac in a life of crime. Although.. “That's the Delaneys, right?” Jeanie pondered. “Gordon and I knew some Dublin Delaneys.”

“That's like knowing a Smith.”

They had circled back around to his old dorm room where they had dropped off all their gear for China. Jeanie lingered on the old desk having perched on the corner. Her arms hugged around herself against the draft. Cormac sat comfortably on his old bed stretched out with his arms towards the wall behind him. An aged and browning poster of a full moon above his head.

Jeanie grimaced at the water stains underneath him and tried to hide her disgust. “At least I hope those are water stains,” she joked.

Cormac moved his knees apart and stared down at the bed, “Jaysus, love, what kinda stains d’ye t’ink t’ey are?!”

Jeanie raised an eyebrow. Cormac’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head. “If you need t’know, I was a shower wanker.”

He was so matter of fact, like he was about everything, Jeanie snorted. Still he made a big production of unpacking his massive sleeping bag and rolling it out along the mattress. He smoothed out the nylon, and presented it to his girlfriend for her to sit down finally.

As Jeanie settled in, Cormac stuffed his hands between his legs and his face flushed. “Do you have a boner right now?! Wait, because I'm on it bed? Is this some.. Puberty regression? AM I THE FIRST GIRL WHO SAT HERE?!” Jeanie couldn't help but squeal.

“NO! Hannah and Tara have sat here loads of times.”

“Yeah, but have you touched their vaginas?”

“JEANIE!”

“CORMAC!”

Jeanie played along and stole a kiss. Her lips pecked his briskly, but then again. They lingered longer so her tongue could sneak just inside his welcoming mouth. She may as well have waged war.

Cormac pushed his own tongue deep inside of his girlfriend’s mouth. As their tongues battled for the upper hand, Jeanie clung to his shirt and laid back on the bed pulling him along with her. She ran her hands under his tee-shirt up his back to dig her nails into his shoulder blades. His forearms on either side of her to prop himself up.

Cormac situated himself inside of Jeanie's legs that drew up alongside his hips. Still fully clothed as they kissed heavily. His belt buckle got trapped by the button of her jeans as they fought to come undressed. Both laughed at the absurdity of acting like horny teenagers simply because they were in a childhood bedroom.

Still, Cormac finally undid Jeanie's pants and tugged them over her hips to her ankles. He was clumsy at the laces of her boots which he gave up on and just yanked off and tossed somewhere in the room. Up on his knees, he threw both shirts he wore over his head. He fumbled with his belt and pants, standing only to strip them off before climbing back on top of Jeanie now in her bra and panties.

The cold air pimpled their flesh, but they ignored it when their kisses commenced. Jeanie’s hands were enmeshed in Cormac’s soft, dark hair. His lips and tongue started to wander to the base of her throat which he nipped and sucked where he could feel her pulse beat under his warm mouth. A brief moment she thought he would bite harder for fun; then he did. All the while he palmed the fabric of her panties in quick succession.

Jeanie’s breath caught at how brazen Cormac was being in broad daylight. Out in the open on top of the sleeping bag instead of in it. The static from portaling that ran through his nerves just under the skin passed on to her. Her brain was too fuzzy with desire to tell if the heat on her sex and clit was from the rapid friction or just the electricity Cormac emitted.

Jeanie couldn't even focus beyond the sensation. Her fingers and hands with a mind of their own drew his boxers down to expose his bare ass to her touch. She used it to draw his no longer secret erection into her entrance. Cormac’s hand and her panties in the way. He happily let her go so he could start pushing into the fabric with the head of his cock. Her ankles locked on his waist so her heels could dig into his lower back. They urged him to rut faster in spite of their underwear.

As klutzy as Cormac was with her jeans and boots, his long fingers were experts at undoing Jeanie’s bra. He kissed her shoulders and arms behind the straps he pulled off to expose her breasts. Breasts his mouth consumed hungrily. His tongue circled and practically inhaled one of her nipples before alternating to the other. He sucked in time to his bucks.

Jeanie deigned to speak, her words punctuated by Cormac’s movements. “I'm.. really..” she moaned “Cold.”

She was, he realized all of a sudden. With more laughter and flourishes, the two managed to zip themselves snug inside the sleeping bag. Jeanie's panties and Cormac’s underwear discarded in the process. Their bodies pressed to each other while his cock pushed into her thigh. The heat was immediate, in more ways than one.

They laid on their sides and faced one another. Cormac’s leg tangled around Jeanie's lower one. Her leg closest to the ceiling wrapped around his hip. Her calf draped along his ass while her hand reached between their bodies and took hold of his shaft. She positioned it just outside her entrance that ached to be filled. All the blood in her body swelled there.

Cormac gazed downwards at her hand, his breathing uncontrolled as Jeanie guided him again inside. Without any more instruction, he thrust inside of her so far and sharply that his pelvis collided with hers. Then he pulled almost completely out and sheathed himself to the hilt again. He repeated this over and over until they found a rhythm. Hips and sexes crashed like meteors with each powered motion.

Jeanie could only hold on. Her nails felt inches deep in Cormac's muscles along his shoulders. she had fleeting thoughts that yesterday wasn't his first time. That he lied perhaps out of embarrassment thinking he was no good.

Except he was, she was out of practice. The last time she had sex this good was.. She didn't want to think of him now. He was gone, Cormac was here. His forehead pressed into her jaw and cheek as he pounded into her. It only just dawned on her his glasses were on, bent at an unnatural angle in the crook of her neck. He didn't like to travel with his contacts in.

At this angle, Cormac hit Jeanie's clit every time he lost himself in her tightening walls. He was silent except for snorts of heavy air like a horse that escaped his nose. Both of them covered in a sheen of sweat until that lightning shot through Jeanie’s body. She coiled and recoiled and drew her boyfriend to her as she came. Cormac’s name echoed off the empty walls.

Not much longer until he did the same with a shudder and a muddled, husky “fuck” in Jeanie's shoulder. Cormac's body trembled which took her aback. Whether it was from the post-orgasm rush, or emotions, she didn't ask. Instead they held onto one another and babbled mindlessly until they fell asleep in the sleeping bag.

It was loud thunder and SILVIA through the old PA system that startled the couple awake.

“Cormac. Jeanie. May I suggest you leave as soon as possible? There is an approaching electrical storm that will surely affect the magnetic field produced by portal travel.”

They rushed to get dressed and repacked. Cormac was annoyed, “If you knew. SILVIA, why the hell didn't you tell me before?”

“Coitus interruptus. Perhaps Ms Turner feels I dislike her, but I can't imagine how much animosity she would display towards me should I interfere with your sexual intercourse. She's already jealous of our long-standing relationship”

Jeanie felt highly uncomfortable at that moment, watched even. Cormac was incensed. “SILVIA.” Then he shut her off, and they were bound for China.

Tag: @robertsheehanownsmyass @elliethesuperfruitlover @super-unpredictable98 @forenschik @slutforrobbiebro @frogs--are--bitches @nightmonsters @bisexualnathanyoung @bwritesstuff @rob-private

#robert sheehan #cormac mcnamara #cormac x jeanie #billy x jeanie #robert sheehan character fics

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Hush Now

I accidentally deleted the request, but anon asked for “Kili saving human Reader who’s usually very brave from something which terrified her a lot.” I changed it up a bit and its story heavy. But here we go!

Kili x Reader

Trigger warning: Mentioned character death

Throughout your life you’ve always had to be strong. 

When your father died, you stayed strong so your mother didn’t have to.

When your mother fell to sickness, you stayed strong so your sister didn’t have to. 

When your sister sold you out for a reward of 200 gold pieces, you stayed strong so she wouldn’t have the satisfaction of knowing that she completely destroyed you.

After you and your sister were left as impoverished orphans, you took to a life of crime to make sure she would always have something to eat. Not just crime, though, for you also sold your services as a mercenary amongst… other things. 

You had learned how to kill at the prime age of 15, and very quickly after that did your skills polish into something that even a grown man would fear if he knew what you were capable of.

You’d done everything for her. You’d sold yourself, your dignity, your innocence of the blade, everything. And after you had no more to give, she tossed you aside for barely enough to last her 6 months. 

The look she gave you that day, that apathetic stare as you were dragged away, shattered your heart into a million pieces, and it wasn’t until later when you’d killed the guards and fled from the city that you actually sat down and cried.

Despite the tragic nature of your past, though, there is no dramatic revenge plot or motivation to hunt her down. There is no desire to make her pay or see her suffer, for you released all of these feelings of contempt years ago.

A part of you wonders from time to time if she knew you would escape. If she, perhaps, sold you out for such a small amount so you would be freed from watching over her and catering to her. That, maybe, if you were to search for her, then she would smile and tell you how much she missed you, how sorry she was for not telling you of her plans. 

You know those are just the fantasies of a foolish girl holding onto the image of a sweet 9 year old, clutching your leg and asking when your next meal will be and telling you how she never wants you to leave her. It’s just your mind clutching onto the past, wanting to smooth over the trauma and pain that you go through thinking of her every day…

Though, in another regard you might also thank her. 

If it weren’t for her treachery, you would’ve never met him. 

After you abandoned your home town and became a full time rouge and sword for hire, you were sought out by a greying old man who claimed to be a wizard named Gandalf. 

He offered you a 15th share in a mountain full of riches and the opportunity to help reunite a king with his castle. 

It all seemed far fetched and kinda ridiculous, but he paid you a handsome amount up front so you agreed. And then it turned out that he wasn’t lying, for not even a week later do you meet this king in a wonderful town called the Shire. 

This Thorin was reluctant to allow you on the quest, but upon the instance and praise of Gandalf, he agreed. 

His youngest nephew, Kili, caught your eye right away. 

He is, not only, rather tall for a dwarf, but he’s quite cute by human’s standards too. Not to mention the fact that he approached you first with a big goofy smile on his face and curiosity in his eyes. 

The two of you got along rather easily, and for the first time since you became a devout mercenary and rouge, you found that you could trust someone. 

Trusting someone other than yourself is not easy, though, and there are many moments in which you doubt that trust when the more paranoid part of your mind whispers how he’ll betray you; but your fondness for this dwarf wins out for you in the end. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry or heard you complain before.” Kili comments suddenly, successfully snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. 

You look down at him from your horse and raise an eyebrow, “Are you saying you wish to see me cry?”

“N-No, that’s not what I meant at all!” He stutters when you seem to take his words the wrong way, “I only meant to say that you… come across as very impassive and restrained. Like when you got stabbed in the arm, you didn’t so much as utter one ‘ow’." 

He has a point, you realize, but it’s only become so natural for you to keep it all inside that you barely noticed, "I’ll have you know I did cry, it was just very quiet." 

It looks like he doesn’t believe you. 

"Really, it’s true. It hurt horribly, but I waited until Oin was done so my tears wouldn’t bother him.” Saying it out loud makes you feel silly and a little weird, and you wonder why you even told him in the first place. 

“Are you telling me you didn’t cry because it would unnerve our healer?” He asks incredulously, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. 

“Well when you say it like that…” You grumble, unconsciously reaching up to rub where the healing wound is. 

“I don’t mean to judge you, Y/N, I’m only curious.” He adds quickly, having his pony move a bit faster for a moment so he can get a peek at your face. “You seem to be rather fearless, I don’t think even my uncle could intimidate you." 

His words draw a laugh from your lips, and you look down at him with amusement sparkling in your eyes, "Everyone is afraid of something, Kili." 

"Then what are you afraid of?”

An innocent question, but one you don’t much want to answer. 

You force your smile to stay on your face and reply rather slyly, “Nothing other than Dwalin’s smell." 

"I heard that!” Said dwarf grumbles angrily not too far behind you. 

Kili stares at you for a few moments, clearly not believing you but not pressing on it any more. 

Honestly, you have no idea how he does that. He can read you like a book; somehow always knowing when you’re holding something back while also being able to tell what you’re feeling at any moment. 

But for some reason, you don’t really dislike having someone know you so well. 

“We’re going to be at the Misty Mountains soon enough, do you think we’ll get a chance to stop at a town?” You ask suddenly, looking down at him again. 

“Yes, actually. My uncle had this part mapped out with Gandalf.”

Well, that’s a relief. 

—

The group did end up stopping at a town, and let me just say, finally getting a chance to sleep on a soft, warm bed after being condemned to the ground for so long is a glorious experience. 

You slept pretty well that night, and at around 5 in the morning you get up as per usual. 

You’ve always been an early riser, or maybe paranoid sleeper is a better way to describe it. Your body has adapted to less sleep, and it got to the point where you just can’t stay asleep much later than 6 on any given day. 

Anyway, you get up early and decide to browse around the town for anything you may want or need, and for the better part of the next hour while you wait for your friends to awake, you idly wander and enjoy the tranquility of the morning.

Everything is wonderful and calm… until it isn’t.

At first, you thought you had imagined it. 

The sudden flash of a figure in your peripherals, but when you turned there was nothing. And then when you turned a corner, there was a flash of familiar (h/c) hair that whipped past. Your hairs began to stand on end, and you knew right away that you were being watched. 

You thought that perhaps someone saw you and was planning to rob or assault you, but you knew you could take whoever it is if that were the case. 

And then you saw her. 

For real this time, head on with no blur or fuzzy images. 

There she stood in front of you, her expression blank and body frozen in place, her face the exact same as you remember it from all those years ago.

You breathe her name in disbelief, taking a few steps back. It can’t be real, maybe you’re still dreaming? 

“You’re a hard woman to find.” She states softly in that sweet voice you could never forget. 

“Y-You were looking for me?” You stutter with, dare you say, hope, hand falling from your weapon while you look on in shock. 

“I was.” Is her only reply. 

It’s as if your brain has stopped working and you can no longer form a coherent thought or phrase, but you do eventually stammer out, “It’s been so long…" 

She doesn’t reply, and you suddenly feel unnerved. 

"Why were you looking for me?" 

She still says nothing, her gaze burning into you like the sun on a hot summer morning and her face unmoving.

And then she steps forward, but you don’t move and let her get close. 

"I’m going to get a lot more than 200 coins for you, this time.” She whispers, reaching up to press her palm to your face.

You know what she means, but for some reason your feet won’t let you move. It’s as if your feet are glued to the ground and knees locked tight. You continue to stare into her eyes, seeing nothing there like the day she let those guards drag you away. 

Her movements are fast, and before you can even open your mouth her dagger is sticking into your neck. 

-

You sit up with a loud gasp, hand flying to your throat as you frantically look around the room. 

It all floods back to you, and you realize that it was only a dream. That you made it out of the town with your throat intact and never having seen your sister.

That you all faced those god awful goblins and ended up here at some point.

For the first time in your 10 years of isolation, you want to cry.

To scream and break things, to pull out your hair and hurt someone. 

To find her and hurt her for what she did to you all those years ago. 

This line of thinking shocks you to your very core, and you reach up without a second thought and rub your face roughly, willing the thoughts to disappear. 

You haven’t had a dream like this in years, and you have no idea what’s prompted it now. 

When your eyes begin to burn and a lump settles in your throat, you jump to your feet and hurriedly go to another room so you can sort it out away from prying ears and eyes, only your sudden jerking awake alerted someone else to your state of distress. 

Once you’re isolated in another room, you begin to pace back and fourth quickly with you hands tangled in your hair. 

No matter how much you will the tears to evaporate and for your breathing to calm, though, they remain. Very soon do those unshed tears begin to stream down your face in long wet streams, and your breathing becomes more ragged as hyperventilation starts. 

And then you hear someone call your name. 

“Y/N…?" 

Your shoulders stiffen and you resist the urge to turn towards that ever familiar voice, your hands shaking at your sides as you clench them into fists. 

"You shouldn’t be here, Kili.” You say softly, your voice thick with emotion and not as strong as you’d like for it to be. 

There is no response, but you hear him approach carefully. He’s very good at keeping himself quiet, you’ve noticed, but your ears are trained to hear every little thing, so naturally you can hear him quite clearly. 

“Are… you crying?” He asks slowly, now standing right next to you. 

“No.” You deny a bit stronger this time, turning your face away sharply so that he won’t get a peek at your tear stained face. 

Once again there is silence (a much longer stretch of it this time), and for a moment you think he may have even left without you noticing; but when you look back, he’s looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face, 

Right away you reach up and rub at the tear streaks staining your face, and a deep set frown settles on your face, “I’m fine." 

Pain flashes across his face at your assurance of being alright, and if it weren’t for the fact that he could see you, he probably would’ve believed it too. 

"You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?” He asks just as quietly, placing a hand on your arm lightly. 

“…No.” You mumble after some time, sighing heavily as you move away to settle into a pile of hay with your back to the wall and your arms wrapped tightly around yourself like a shield or self hug. 

Kili follows you without hesitation and sits next to you, his leg pressing against yours while you both descend into silence once more. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He offers in that same soft, sweet voice of his, reaching up to rub your arm reassuringly. “You don’t have to." 

For some reason, you actually kind of want to. 

"I told you about my upbringing, didn’t I?” You answer his question with a question and feel no remorse for it. “And of my sister?" 

He nods his head and drops his hand back into his lap, looking up at you with the smallest of smiles on his face. 

"I haven’t really thought about any of that in a while, you see. Not to say that I don’t think of it every day, but I more so mean the feelings I had then, how it felt and all the anger I once had.” You pause and shake your head, “I’m not making any sense." 

"No, I understand. And even if I didn’t, it’s your story to tell, so you tell it how you wish." 

You nod your head at that and continue, "I had a dream…,” you begin with a softer voice this time, your fingers digging into your arms while you huge yourself, “Of my sister. Of her finding me, having fallen onto the same wretched path as I, and killing me. Sticking me in the throat with a knife like a pig being bled out for a feast, telling me that she’ll be awarded much more for me this time around as if I were some sort of merchandise that she was selling.” You spit out the similes like they taste bad in your mouth, and you unconsciously hold yourself tighter as you remember the night terror. 

Long silences are very quickly becoming a trend, for once more the only thing filling the air at the moment is the quiet that wraps around the both of you. 

“That’s why you’re crying?" The dwarf inquires compassionately, looking over at you with a frown of his own and sadness shinning in his eyes. 

"I’m not crying anymore.” You grumble, only to realize that tears have, in fact, begun to shed tears once more. “O-Oh…" 

Before you can reach up and dispel the salty droplets of your sorrows from your eyes, two hands come up to cup the sides of your face while two matching thumbs smooth across your wet cheeks to do it for you. 

This time he wears a small, sympathetic smile, and once he wipes all your tears away he keeps his hands as they are. "I cannot pretend to know what you go through or how that night terror made you feel, but… I do understand. What you’ve had to endure throughout your life has shaped who you are now, and while I would not trade who you are for anything, I do wish that I could do something to ease your pain." 

His fingers continue to smooth along your cheek gently, and you find that you can’t help it when your eyes slide shut and you lean into the warmth of his hands. 

With delicate movements, you reach up and place one of your hands over his, sighing through your nose before opening your eyes again to look at him. 

"Thank you for saying that, Kili.” You breathe with a small smile upturning the corners of your lips.

When you smile his own brightens and he says more joyfully this time, “Of course. And know that I meant every word of it." 

Slowly you slot your hand against his own until you’re holding it, and then it rests between the two of you while you engage in some sort of odd, intimate stare down.

And then you lean forward and press a light kiss against his cheek, brightening when you see his face turn slightly red. 

"I meant that, too.” You reply cheekily, forgetting your sorrows for a moment while you just enjoy the company of this wonderful dwarf. 

“And I mean this.” He shoots back before pecking your lips gently. 

This time it’s your turn to become flustered, but you still smile and allow yourself to laugh. 

“Thank you." 

#kili durin #fanfic #fluff #reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit #kili #kili fluff #kili x reader #reader insert #comfort #the company of thorin oakenshield #request #anon

[mogekolover]

WMMAP Fairy!AU(LP universe)

WARNING: THIS ENDED UP BEING TOO LONG OMG (and i didn’t even got to talk about the Fairy plants...

AU Details: 

- Athy has fairy power. 

 - Athy likes the fairy flowers(she doesnt know they are fairy flowers) 

 -Fairy flowers(and fairies) also like her a lot bc she next queen. 

 - All hail Diana the previous FQ

(My friend told me to write this here bc I forget in which of my 847683974698379123 Twitter accounts I posted this)

(This will be more of a description than an actual... “writing” because I’m a very lazy person and I have no motivation to do so, let’s just hope I don’t start making bullet points all of a sudden)

Ok so.

Diana was what was left of the spirit of the previous Fairy Queen (FQ for short) because all went to hell when some people(emperors and the like) became too obssessed with experimentating on magical creatures, the fairy forest was lost completely. 

Now, because intelligent people ALWAYS have a back up plan, the FQ essence/spirit manages to reincarnate in a human body so it will be easier to make a new forest (they have managed to pass down the seeds to make the forest again) and each reincarnation dies and we now have Diana. Because of how much time has passed Diana doesn’t remember why she always carries the seed bags with her, she just knows they are important to her, and that she needs the perfect place to plant them (something that never happens).

*cue Claude and Diana love story*

Because of Dianas death, the spirit/essence was supposed to technically die with her(like, definitively)

BUT

Because of Claudes genes(his magic) the spirit manages to transfer the wish to make the fairy forest again into Athy, and because of her crazy amount of mana, the fairy magic part of her started revitalizing essentially making Athy into a half fairy and also the next FQ.

PS: in my crazy mind blackie ONLY has her Obelian magic, not her Fairy magic, making it so that Lucas never ate any of it when he ate Blackie, leaving Athy with her (at the moment) dormant fairy magic/genes. Her magic waking up little by little when she gets the seeds.

DETAIL FILE: ATHY

- She got the seeds from Lily on her 15th birthday and she’s the only one that takes care of them,she doesn’t even let Lily to help her.

- She gets so “interested” in her new plants that she ignores and declines(and even fakes to be sick or bussy) all of Jennettes invites to tea and along the way stops caring about Claude.

- It was already rare to her to go out, but now she just stays inside the Ruby Palaces grounds, only going out when it’s an event she can’t ignore(or if she gets forced by Lily). 

- The more the plants grow, the more her fairy part starts to wake up, and because of that, the plants start growing faster, which in turn maks her fairy part more awake. Also, because this plants are supposed to make a new fairy forest (that kinda acts like the “Fairy Kingdom”) andAthy planted the seeds in the back of the Ruby Palace, when the plants are fully growm, it looks as if the Ruby palace has its own forest, a very dense one might I add, big trees everywhere, obstructing the view of everyone to see the inside of it and also hiding a little bit the Ruby Palace.

Because of this everyone in the palace is pretty worried because obviously from some seeds you don’t get a forest like that, but Athy shrugs it off, saying that if the plants don’t harm anyone, they can continue to grow.

- Now that she has a fully grown forest on her backyard, she spends A LOT of time inside of it, coming out in time for tea time, her meals and her study lessons.

- on her 18th birthday all hell broke lose because Rosalia insisted that Athy had something to do with Jennettes poisoning (even is Athy basically lived like a reclused in her palace), and Claude being a dumb f*ck believed that.

Because Athy’s 18, she’s supposed to grow her wings(idk dont ask me i forgot why) and obviously she doesn’t know anything, the poor soul. And because of how angry she feels, her magic kinda goes out of control and in front of everyone, her wings appear/grow. 

SCENE:  This will be the "declared guilty" scene (not gonna write in detail btw, maybe some parts)

“ Athy is in the throne room, and doesn't know why the f*ck she's there. She had just came from a stroll in her forest when royal guards forcefully took her to the Garnet Palace, not answering her questions, so when she asks in the throne room "You are guilty of poisoning Princess Jennette!" was what one the nobles present at that moment said angrily. 

She frowned "I haven't seen nor talked to Her Highness in the last two years." 

"Liar!" said another. 

"What prove do you have?" she was getting angry now.

"There is no need of proof when it's something as obvious as this." 

 Everyone looked at Claude. Athanasia was very angry now. 

"You are to be hanged tomorrow at sunrise." She wanted to scream in rage and pain. Rage because of this idiots blaming her without proof. 

 And pain... *rip*

Because her back felt as if it was going to break. And she screamed. 

*cue big and grotesque description of wings growing out of her back* Through all that, she heard little voices. 

 "𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘫𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺!" 

 "𝘔𝘺 𝘘𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯!"

She heard a commotion, but she could barely listen now as the pain increased tenfold, making her double herself on the floor, letting out tears and screams. 

Then she saw white... and then she saw visio- 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 

 Memories from the ones before her  “

So basically Athanasia got all the memories from the FQueens before her(she didn't get the memories from all of Dianas previous "mortal" lifes) and now she isn't angry, she's LIVID.

after the light fades(bc she didn't imagine the light, she emitted light to finish her transition from normal human to Fairy Queen) everyone looks at her surprised bc now she has this big majestic wings and a breathtaking dress.

[The wings is a combination of first image (for the color) and the second image (for the form). The dress is the one she wears after her “transformation”]

And her eyes are sharp and full of hatred. while everyone is surprised the fairies go and greet her, and she greets them tenderly, doing a 180 from pure hatred to pure motherly/familial love

When she finishes greeting, she goes back to her cold demeanor, and says that she doesn't want to see any of them near her forest or obelia will suffer more than it will do in the upcoming months

With that she teleports to her castle deep in the woods The fairy castle

Long story short, obelia will go into chaos(bc no one will belive her until it's too late) so Claude has to suck up his pride and hate for her and apologize This is where Lily becomes the savior of the empire. Why? bc she will be the one to convince Athanasia to put everything back to normal bc she(Lily) could die if this went longer (contaminated water, all crops ruined, no rain + contaminated air, yep, pretty apocalyptic) so Athanasia considers that, and accepts Claudes "apology" and makes Lily live with her in her castle

Obviously she restores the empire (it takes like 2 weeks or so) and tells Claude to not bother her and that she doesn't want to see his nor his "offspring"(Jennette) faces near her forest. 

#who made me a princess #wmmap #wmmap fanfic #idea #lovely princess athanasia #wmmap claude #wmmap athanasia #wmmap diana #au #wmmap au #suddenly became a princess one day #athanasia de alger obelia #claude de alger obelia #jennette margarita #wmmap lily #lillian york

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Shelter (Part Two)

Pairing: Jay White x OFC (Estella)

Word count: 2,814

Content advisory: nothing, really, other than a wee bit of violence

You’ll need to read part one for this to make sense. 

During the course of the next day, I demanded to be able to speak to Hannah and to my cousin, as well as to receive news of the two guards who had accompanied us. None of these requests was granted and at that point I realized that I was not so much a guest in the castle as a prisoner. I couldn't imagine what strategic purpose I would serve but evidently there were political games afoot of which I had no understanding. Finally, after two full days, I was graced by a visit from our host and captor. 

Jay strode into my chambers at least more decently dressed than the night we’d arrived. Still, he wore no coat and he carried a bottle of wine that he drank from liberally as he paced around the room and his expression was far from what one would expect of a man greeting an equal. 

“I understand that you’ve asked to speak to me,” he hissed, eyes lighting on mine like somehow my request had constituted an act of war. 

“You know good and well why I have. You’ve no right keeping my servants and I like prisoners here. We came to you seeking aid and we gave you no reason to feel threatened. What excuse do you have for your behavior?”

“You seem unaware of how things are in these parts. Every week, there are attacks from the Scots in the north. Every week, his majesty in London sends more troops in the name of protecting the border but who keep an eye out to see whose lands can be plundered and claimed for the crown. And every week, dozens of men return dead and dying. You do not get to pass through these parts unmolested, no matter who you are. To gain safe passage, you need to pay the toll.”

“As much as I would like to think such piracy was beneath the noble classes,” I growled, “had you indicated that you were simply a mercenary looking for a reward, I would have offered you plenty. You did not need to resort to kidnapping me and my companions. Even now, though it pains me to entreat with you as an equal, I tell you to name your price. We have already lost time, which we can ill afford. So settle your price, have your grooms prepare our horses and allow us to leave without any further delay.”

Jay’s eyes widened as I spoke and as I finished, he laughed loudly in response. 

“My dear Estella, what a delightful sense of humor you’ve developed,” he chuckled. He walked a slow circle around me, sardonic laughter tumbling from him as he spoke. “You think you’re in a position to give me orders, to tell me what will and won’t happen in my own castle. You and your party arrive out of nowhere, with no proper explanation of what you’re doing in these parts. Your father is a well-established lord whose lands have doubled in size during his lifetime. Your sister is married to one of the most powerful men in the country, an ally of the King who stands to become the lord of half the country if he can establish a stronghold in the north. And you are married into the royal family of Cumbria, whose reach extends further to the east each year. 

“And you would have me believe that you just happened to find yourself stranded on this road, that your clever servants brought you up this way rather than taking the much safer routes to the south?”

He stopped his pacing and stepped close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my face. 

“Estella, dear cousin, why don’t you tell me what your real purpose is here?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I stammered, feeling nervous although I had no reason. “Everything I’ve told you is the truth and I have no ulterior motives. You wound me by suggesting otherwise.”

His blue-green eyes locked onto mine with an expression I couldn’t quite read but which terrified me. I moved to back away from him but he caught my arm and held me in place, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh. A smile that seemed more madness than mirth crossed his face as he walked me backwards until I was pressed against the wall. 

He ran his hand up my arm and cupped my cheek in his hand, pressing his face close to mine. I felt my body running hot and cold in waves, frightened of what he meant to do to me and at the same time wanting to know what was in store. 

“Do you remember the last time we saw each other, Ella?”

I nodded, unsure how to relate this to what had come before. 

“Do you remember when we left your home, how you took your leave of me? Do you remember the kiss on the cheek you gave me?”

His lips pressed against my skin as he spoke and I leaned into the contact, unsure why. 

“I do,” I rasped. “But it was a childish gesture. I didn’t mean…”

I could not think of how to finish the sentence, alarmed and excited as I was at the feeling of his chiseled chest against me, pinning me in place. 

“I’ve thought of it often,” he murmured, lips trailing over my neck and jaw. “I was too young at the time to even understand why it affected me so. But I’ve had more than enough time to reflect on the feelings you stirred in me. Tell me, have I stirred anything in you? Have you thought about me?”

I stammered trying to come up with a response. Of course I had thought of him. I was embarrassed at how I’d imagined that he might be the boy who left and returned a gallant knight of a man, a romantic hero. At the same time, it was obvious he was no hero to me. I was his captive based on his specious ideas about tribal warfare in these parts. Perhaps his licentiousness had made him believe that there were no people with pure and gentle motives any longer. I wanted to understand but it didn’t matter as long as he was keeping me locked in here like an enemy. Nevertheless, I continued to lean into him, lips inclined towards his until they touched almost of their own accord. 

The kiss was slow and tentative but I felt the echoes of it reverberate through every part of my body. I wanted it to continue but he pushed me back roughly against the wall, snapping his body away from mine as if emerging from a trance. I surprised myself by trying to cling to him, although I could think of no reason to do so. But to my embarrassment, he detached himself from me like I was a spider’s web, shoving me away with the same intensity he’d pulled me in. 

“You feign innocence so well, I believe you could seduce all the kings of Europe,” he snarled. “I’m fortunate to have been alerted to your duplicitousness before you could claim my head for your mantle.”

“You wound me. I have been nothing but honest and open with you. You are the one who has played the villain, holding me captive, inventing stories of intrigue between nobles, speaking in riddles when I have told you clearly that I wish only to pass through your lands to my father’s home in Northumbria to see him before he dies.”

There were tears in my eyes and in my voice as I watched his emotionless face glaring back at me. I stepped forward and tried to capture his hand in mine, hoping the contact would remind him of our ancient familial bond, but he swung himself out of my way, leaving me grasping at the air. 

“My father is very sick. My mother is taken sick as well. My only reason for journeying this way is that I might be able to see them and to comfort them. You have seen for yourself the love that we bear each other. How can you imagine that I would have any other reason to travel without my husband, through dangerous country?”

Without meaning to, I stumbled on the word “husband”. I had a husband, of course, but I felt there was some little deceit in calling him such when our marriage had never been fully consummated. Although I knew it was wrong, I felt like the full realization of our marriage hung upon an act I knew precious little about. Nevertheless, I saw Jay’s eyes narrow at my slight hesitance. I wished that I could make him understand that even in a point as irrelevant as this, I was incapable of deceiving him. 

“I think you need more time to think about what it is you’ve come here to do,” he hissed. 

I blinked and immediately felt the stream of tears down my face. “I tell you again that I have been honest with you in every detail. You know as much of what brought me here as I do. There is nothing else to know. Ask my companions if you don’t believe me!”

“Oh I have, and I will,” he retorted, a vicious kind of smile on his face. 

There was a long moment where the two of us stared fire at each other, both of us straining for breath as if we had been in a literal battle, both of us refusing to capitulate. And then, as if obeying some unheard instruction, we were in each other’s arms again, lips straining to come together as our faces brushed against one another. Before we could find our way to a kiss, he thrust me violently away, my facing hitting the stone wall hard enough that I cried out. I looked to him, trying to understand his sudden reversal, but I only saw him hurry from the room, his hand touching the grip of the dagger he wore strapped to his waist. 

I held my aching face, crying into my hands for some time until I finally made my way to the lumpy mattress where I tried to sleep. I didn’t know who this man was, this man I’d called family, this man I believed I once knew and even cared for. I didn’t understand his anger and violence towards me, especially since I knew I’d done nothing to provoke it. But most frightening of all, I did not understand the physical sensations he stirred in me. These were not the feelings I’d had when imagining my own version of the heroes of the books I read. Nor were they feelings of revulsion. In fact, what I felt was the opposite of both of those things at once and I had no idea what that meant. 

These thoughts kept me preoccupied enough that I passed a fitful night and found it difficult to stay awake during the day. The serving women appointed to me tutted their disapproval when they saw how little I consumed of the food they brought. I ignored them, unwilling to engage in even light conversation any longer. I was trapped and maligned and assaulted by feelings I didn’t understand. If all I could do to resist was refuse the food that was brought to me, then I determined I would do that. 

It was late at night when he arrived in my rooms again, this time staggering from the drink, his cheeks visibly flushed even through the thick hairs of his beard. He dropped a platter with food on the table where I was sitting before slouching against the wall. 

“Eat!” he ordered, waving a hand at the food. “You’re not going to starve yourself, so stop being dramatic.”

I glared at him, gathering what pride I could muster, nostrils quivering a little at the scent of the delicious-smelling food before me and at the mix of red wine and musk that wafted from him. 

“Let me and my companions go.”

He gave a sort of barking laugh and staggered over to me, grabbing a crust of bread and some sliced meat that he shoved into my mouth. I struggled instinctively, which only caused him to grab hold of my jaw and clamp his other hand over my nose, forcing me to chew and swallow if I wanted to breathe. By the time I gulped down what he’d given me, I had tears staining my cheeks, something which elicited a nasty little smile from him. 

“So, my dear, are you going to eat on your own or am I going to make you?”

“On my own,” I choked, gingerly picking up another piece of bread and bringing it to my lips. 

He watched as I ate the bread as quickly as I could, struggling to force it down my dry throat. Picking up on this, he jammed the bottle of wine he was holding to my mouth and poured the liquid over my lips. I was able to adjust before too much spilled but he kept the bottle in place until I was spluttering, unable to take any more. 

He took a long drink from the bottle himself, winding his fingers through my hair as he did, pulling me so that I was looking up at him, my face a mess of tears and spittle. As he finished his drink, he leaned down and planted his lips on mine, hard and unkind, crushing my lips between his teeth and mine, enjoying the whimper that escaped me when a little of the wine spilled from his mouth over my tongue. 

“You still think you can play me for a fool?” he snarled. 

He leant forward as if he meant to kiss me again and, as if on instinct, I slid my hand over to where I knew he kept his dagger. By the time he realized what I was doing, I had pulled it free and had the blade against his throat. Intoxicated as he was, I was able to force myself against him, making sure that the blade stayed hard against his most vulnerable point, the blood visibly pumping against it as I pulled him towards the door. 

“Call your guards,” I hissed to him. “But make sure your tone stays gentle.”

He followed my instructions, wild eyes locked on me while I was unable to look directly at him. 

Immediately, the chief of the guard reached for his sword and I pushed the blade a little harder against Jay’s skin. 

“Stay your weapons,” he rasped, frantically gesturing to his men. “Do as she says.”

“Bring my handmaid and my guards to me,” I said as evenly as I could manage. “Prepare our horses and bring them to the front. When we have made our way far enough, I’ll release your master.”

The guards hesitated until Jay nodded and indicated that they should follow my instructions. 

“Are you still going to try to claim that your presence here is innocent?” Jay growled at me. 

“You can think what you want. I’ve tried to treat you as a noble, as an equal, as the friend and cousin I once knew. Now I am a woman whose duty is to her family and I will be damned if I let you stand in my way.”

“Ma’am,” I heard Hannah squeak as she arrived with one of the guards. 

“We are leaving, Hannah. We are going to Northumbria immediately.”

It was a long wait for the guards to bring the men and when they did, I could scarcely believe my eyes. The two strapping lads who had accompanied us to the castle, who had stood as our protectors when we first entered this place, were gone. In their place were two fleshy marionettes, broken and bent, barely capable of standing under their own power for a second or two. 

I felt my breath quicken as I took in the terrible state of their bodies, trying to imagine how I could get all of us safely through to my father’s home. 

“What has happened to you?” I asked as calmly as I could, looking James in the eye. 

“I’m so sorry ma’am,” he murmured, straining to say even that much. 

“What have you done to him?”

As I tried to demand answers from the assembled men, I felt weak and in that moment, the pressure of my blade on Jay’s neck slacked ever so slightly. He realized it even before I did and in an instant I felt my arm painfully twisted and the dagger fall from my grasp. For one second, I locked eyes with James again, only to see him mouth another apology to me. Then I felt the sickening impact of a boot and my face crashed into the stone wall.

#jay white imagine #jay white fanfic #njpw imagine #wrestling fanfic #wayward wrestle writing

[nomnomsik]

My Terms, | Chapter One

Summary: Relatively close in age and similar hidden personalities, an idol and bodyguard discuss secret terms unbeknownst to the company. What will come about them and what exactly did they discuss?

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Please let me know your initial thoughts and feelings as it motivates me to continue this series!

Trigger warnings: Yandere-themes, eventual sexual content, extreme possessiveness, mentions of violence, mentions of public shootings, unhealthy relationships. Please read with caution!!

[ Prologue ]

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

The thirteen-hour flight finally came to an end as you arrived in LAX, arms stretching above your head, waiting to leave the stuffy confinements of the plane. Jungkook’s eyes traveled to your restless state, your leg bouncing up and down, then up and down, and so on. His hand slowly crawled closer to yours, interlocking with your fingers. Normally, it would’ve been a reassuring gesture, but you only flinched as he touched you, snapping your arm away from him and turning your head. You found more interest outside, preferring to stare out the window and the plane adjacent to yours. 

Jungkook bit his lip, face drooping down as he looked back at his empty hand, before quickly folding them together in his lap. There was a sudden impulse that he had to quickly suppress down. Grabbing you, pulling you into his chest, hands softly coming to a rest on your hips. However, with the terms of your secret contract hanging over his head, he knew better than to act so rashly. 

It only took a couple of minutes until you were led out of the plane, Jungkook looming on your right as you walked out of your gate, taking in the new surroundings around you. It was the diversity of people and the strange smells that you have never truly experienced back at home in Korea that made your body rush with excitement. But apparently, nobody else shared the same sentiment, guiding you through passport control and receiving a large red stamp on your passport as well as a slip of thin paper with gibberish you couldn’t even read. Nobody wanted to sightsee or even take in the sights.  

It was then that your manager came up to your left side, reminding you of his instructions: head toward the van while we pick up all the bags, meeting up at the hotel. 

You gave him a polite nod, affirming his directions and heading toward the area with all the airport check-ins. While you were descending down the escalators, Jungkook came up to your side, your height slightly matching his, granted the fact you were wearing black, shiny combat boots. When you reached the ground floor, you resumed your brisk pace, although your eyes were taking in much of the new environment. People bustled back and forth, dozens of cars lined outside through those glass revolving doors. You didn’t even notice the small murmuring that grew around you.

The last thing you expected was to get noticed by foreigners, but alas, surprising gasps left their lips as they too couldn't seem to help themselves, getting closer and closer. Initially, you wondered how they knew so quickly, but then again, with an entourage of your size, you were bound to attract attention. 

Whether it was from being in a foreign country or culture shock you were currently experiencing, you were unsure of what to do, feet sealed on the ground. Did they know what fansites or sasaengs were? You halted in place, only for Jungkook and a few other bodyguards to step in, setting good distance between the two groups: you and the fans. 

Instead, your eyes drift away, catching a glimpse of Jungkook's face, noticing something in his eyes that seemed awfully familiar, his demeanor flipping like a switch at people he could never seem to trust. His jaw was clenched, and from where you stood, you quickly noticed his looming gaze, predator-like, body emanating an intimidating aura around him. 

“Jungkook.” You sterned.

Once again, his head snapped over at your voice, like a child whose name was just called. He seemed more relaxed, shoulders slumping back, but his eyes couldn’t remain on just you, wandering all about the airport. Your two fingers that rose in the air is what grabbed back his attention, ushering him forward, then pointing at the white van that was waiting outside. 

"Relax, Jungkook." 

He took a deep breath, inhaling and exhaling before he nodded, following your instructions with such obedience, you would’ve thought he was part pet, probably also hoping for a reward. The thought brought an innocent smile to your face, part from the ridiculousness of your mind and the other from how it seemed to fit Jungkook well. 

Your entourage stepped into the white van, Jungkook sitting in the back with you, his nose buried in your neck, the blacked-out windows giving him all the privacy he needed. He was met with some resistance, your hands coming up to his chest and mouth clicking in annoyance. Where the hell did that doe-eyed kid go when you first met him? The flustered, stuttering mess of a bodyguard. For heaven’s sake, you wanted him back. 

The other bodyguards paid no mind to you two as Jungkook’s head seemed to hover over half of your face, his eyes now boring into yours, neck completely forgotten. You cocked an eyebrow in confusion, only for him to smile wide, snuggling up to you that only confused you more. This kid… really… 

A sigh left your lips as Jungkook took hold of one of your arms, wrapping both of his around and securing in his grasps. His hold was like iron, and despite trying to pull away, it didn’t budge. His cheeks protruded out as he sighed in content, a smile on his lips with his eyes softly closed. The soft innocent-like expression reminded you of when you first met him. 

You remembered how miserable you were that day, another day of being dragged off somewhere, so tired that your legs didn’t want to move anymore. You didn’t care if you were an idol, couldn’t you just get sleep for more than 8 hours? But here you were, again, pulled into your manager’s office for probably another scolding. What this time? Being late again? Ignoring all the texts he had sent you in the morning? Whatever it was, you wanted him to get it over with, and quickly. 

“Y/n, this is your new bodyguard. Please introduce yourself. You will be going on a tour this year so I want you to get to know a new member of staff that will be looking out for you and your safety.” Your manager lifted his arm, raising it to the boy that stood in front of you.

You wanted to scoff at first, eyeing the boy up and down, chin rested on the palm of your hand. This kid? He looked like the type to hesitate on killing a fly or flinch if a bee came too close. Nevertheless, you spared yourself another lecture from your manager, sending your sharp gaze. 

“Hey, I’m Y/n, nice to meet you. I guess.” You gave a half-assed bow and you knew it, but you couldn’t care less. Your ass was firmly planted in this chair and you were not going to get up for this kid. 

“H-hello, I’m Jeon Jungkook. It’s my p-pleasure to be working with you.” 

You only hummed back, carefully watching him as his hands rubbed the perspiration off his palms and down his nice dress pants and his shy gaze barely able to meet yours. That day, he was a stuttering machine and you almost felt bad for him. How could he be that nervous? Was it you? Was it him? Sure, granted you did seem intimidating, but every time you conversed with him, it was in a laid back manner and you expected him to catch on that you didn’t have a care for what he did. That is unless he didn't do his job properly. 

But, one of the most interesting parts was the way he showed emotion. It wasn’t just the way his cheeks flushed pink. All the bodyguards were stiff, stoic faces that gave you no fun. But, Jungkook. Yes… He was fun. He was a little plaything, as well as a bodyguard, and you took full advantage of that. Whenever you had the chance, you remembered how you terrorized the inexperienced and hired boy. Skin always touching, fingers grazing, heads close together. His reaction was gold and sometimes, you couldn’t even hide the devious smirk on your face. He was just too cute not to. 

On one particular afternoon, the breeze slowly picking up in the autumn weather, Jungkook was instructed to drop you off at the dorms after a day of interviews. He had successfully escorted you to your room, softly whispering his farewells until you called to him. At first, he was taken aback, quickly growing flustered until you had to pull him inside your room. 

You had quickly cornered him in your words, his face only getting redder and redder with each sentence you spoke. Not to mention his eyes soaking your figure, low cut shorts that he couldn’t stop staring at which only made you laugh internally. Such a weak and fragile thing. 

He nodded as you whispered into his ear, his face burning and body heating up. It was that moment you knew you got him. 

Do you like me? Do you find me that attractive? 

How about… we make a deal?

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

You jolted awake, realizing you had fallen asleep on the ride to your hotel. Jungkook, too, was resting on your shoulder, drool dripping down the corner of his lips. You scowled, shoving the boy off and brushing yourself. Jungkook only groaned, arms tiredly looking for you and upon feeling your figure, he relaxed. The car continued on, stuck in traffic in the middle of the highway.

He truly did look like a young boy, but nobody knew the monster inside of him. People would assume you were talking about the Jungkook in the airports, always tense and eyes sharp, hair falling perfectly over his face. But that’s not the Jungkook you meant. It brought a smile to your lips when you realized just how loyal this boy was. 

He would kill for you. 

Sure, you remembered just how terrified you were, but nothing scared you more than confronting that Jungkook. It was satisfying to know such a thing lay quiet inside of him, ready to burst, and burst violently. You remembered what you had told him, body battered up with bruises, but nevertheless in good condition.

“Do that, and do it more often.” 

You remembered the first time it happened. Never in your life did you think violence would rain upon a concert of yours. But sadly, it did. You remembered how your adrenaline spiked, the shots ringing so loudly that you wanted to scream, but nothing came out of your throat. How everyone screamed, ducking, scrambling, and- 

It was a terrible memory you simply shook your head, burying that scarring memory further and further down your skull. Who cared how other people moaned in disbelief, criticizing for your lack of caring. But who were they to say how you decided best to cope? They would never know such a day. It still felt like only a nightmare. It was only a nightmare you had told yourself multiple times.

Don’t remember. Don’t remember.

All you wanted to remember was how Jungkook’s face looked so dark, so murderous that it made you relieved, your shoulders relaxing, your fists no longer clenching, your eyes no longer paranoid. Blood was splattered on his white dress shirt, forehead dripping in sweat as you fell onto your knees, muttering a “thank god” under your breath. 

He turned to you, body trembling, so unstable that you reached for him, wrapping him in your embrace. His breathing was accelerating, both of your legs resting in a pool of blood that seeped out of the man in front of you, face beaten, almost as if it was torn off. It was then you remembered how Jungkook plunged his lips into yours, no tongue, just desperation. How his voice was high pitched, cracking multiple times as he kept rambling on and on about some nonsense on how he almost lost you. 

You still complain to this day how he kissed you despite never asking for permission first, preferring to focus more on how behaved much to his dismay. He seemed to wince whenever you brought the topic up. Maybe he wanted to stay the perfect and doe-eyed prince you had first met him to be, but then again, would a normal or good person be proud of such violent behavior? 

You scoffed, when were you ever a “good” person? 

“Noona- Did I… Did I do well?”

“Yes, Jungkook… You did well. I’m proud of you.”

[Chapter Two]

#yandere bts #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x you #bts series

[shinglescat]

Another writing thingy goes below

...He was waken up by his own heavy breath and heart heavily pounding in his chest, whose beat seemed to echo throughout the body. "What the fuck?" was the only thing he could muttered to himself, jumping on a bed to enter a sitting position, cold sweat running down his temples. It took him a couple of minutes to regain full consciousness, finally recognizing the familiar environment: Instead of waking up in a somber, gloomy place of his dream that awakened unbearable sadness in his chest with as each thought dwelt on a feeling, he was sitting on a bed in a house somewhere in the capital city, bed sheets crumpled, blood rushing in his ears.

How long has it been since his last nightmare? He couldn't really remember. But this one was pretty... vivid, disturbingly so. It has awaken something deep inside him, something quite scary and dark, but it was almost impossible to tell what was it exactly without remembering the actual dream, as it was fleeing from him already, leaving behind the unpleasant feeling.

Mark glanced to the side, to his utter surprise finding a man sleeping beside him: he managed to forget about him somehow. His chest was rising and falling with each breath in and breath out, steady and calm, unlike elf's ragged one. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, the features of his face smooth and relaxed, not a single emotion present but rest. The elf reached out to the man's face, ghosting over it with tips of his fingers as if he wasn't real, as if he was just a mirage, a hallucination of his troubled mind.

The dream all of a sudden appeared in head again, in full, triggered by a simple motion, triggered by the familiar face. A cold shiver ran through his body, forcing goosebumps on his skin; something twisted in his belly unpleasantly, muscles weak and atonic, as the nightmare came life right before his eyes...

... It was... disturbing. 

The kid hugged himself and got off the bed to get: he could use some fresh night air to calm himself properly, as the stale one in the room did nothing to his emotional state except for making him feel like complete shit. What was that thing? Why would he do something like that? Thinking about the man, Mark couldn't help but realize that he didn't know him at all; hell, he might know his present self, but his past was a completely blank page. Not that he cared about someone's past, no, but it was still kind of crucial to extrapolate that data into the future. To add to that, he had no idea of what the man was capable of, his reasons and motives, his thoughts for fuck's sake. They've been together for gods know how much, and... he still knew nothing, except for a thing that he wasn't from this place. The guy, on the other hand, knew a lot about the kid, to an almost uncomfortable degree now. They used to gather around a fireplace, telling stories to each other, and the man always was the quietest one, preferring to listen to the stories instead of actually telling them. It's not like the elf didn't try to understand him, but every question asked was redirected and eluded, so at some point he just stopped wondering. Until now. The dream was too lucid for his comfort.

- Is something wrong? - he jumped, scared, almost yelping in process, - Didn't mean to scare you, sorry.

And here he was, the hero of the nightmare, nearing the railing to lean on, just right beside the elf.

- Bad dream. You know the kind, - Mark sighed, letting his arms hang from the railing. He wasn't prompted to say anything else, yet was more that determined to... clean some air and help himself to get rid of the overwhelming discomfort, though he still would've preferred if he didn't have to tell this aloud to calm himself, it'd be better to keep this unspoken, - So... you tricked me into following you somewhere, then... did inject something so I couldn't move, yet my mind was still very awake at that moment just to let me see that horror through, - the kid yanked his own hair as if to stop the growing feeling of danger in him. He let out a husky laugh before continuing, - You put me into some kind of glass-jar-thing, let a glowing liquid flow. I tried to break out, shatter the glass, cried for help, yet the glass was too strong, and you did nothing to get me out of it, - a shiver ran down his spine, - I was drowning, the liquid slowly filling my lungs. Instead of death however... there was just nothing. I couldn't do anything, but to... be suspended in that prison, - the last words were almost spit out. All of a sudden he turned his face to the man, voice soft and uncharacteristically high, trembling, - And you just stood there, watching me drown, with an unsettling fondness in your eyes... - he leaned against the railing with his back, facing the man in full this time, arms crossed on his crest in a subconscious defense, - It seemed like hundreds of years passed with me being in that cage and you living the other life. I watched you gut corpses, kill living beings in that place with your... poisons and blades, with your bare hands. You were the monster of the tale. Yet you still came back to me every time, observing through the other side, talking about something I cannot remember,  - Mark rubbed his face, pinching the nose bridge at the end, - I literally know nothing about you, and that thing - it scared the shit out of me. I'm still kind of too scared to talk and to stand right here, but... yeah, it was just a bad dream. Still, - it cost him a great effort of his will power to look the man straight into the eyes now, - If you don't want to say anything, be it this way, but, - the elf tried to smile, but it was faint and uncertain, - I would appreciate you at least confirming that you won't gut me alive or lock me in a watery prison for the rest of my life. 

They fell silent for a moment.

- Didn't you say that you don't care about the past? - the man replied, voice quiet, as it seemed - void of emotions.

- And I don't. I don't really care if you used to gut cute kittens and puppies back in the past, or if you used to eat children for breakfast. It's just... - the kid sighed, covering his face, - You are an unknown variable to me, if I'm honest with you, and you've been an unknown variable to me ever since we've met. I have no idea of your capabilities, I can't predict your actions or extrapolate you onto anything, - with another sigh, he took man by his hand, - Listen, Aspen, I do love you, and I don't expect you to tell me anything, and I won't be pestering you any longer, but if you feel like telling something, I'd be glad to listen to, - he tried to smile, again, but it went off as too awkward.

The silence hit their ears again, as both kept quiet.

- ...Are you afraid of me? - Yes, I am afraid of you.

#sc_storytime #SC_Mark #FV_Aspen #this is the first time i tried to lit scenes with enb's particle lights only #had to disable direct and point lights

[fyeahwonderbat]

Here's just a thought, Bruce who has been awake for days refusing to go to sleep. Diana sick of arguing with him picks him up and carries him to bed, Imagine her walking by Alfred while Bruce squirms and demands to be put down,

The punching bag reacted to Bruce’s punches like it was frightened by every hit, but he refused to stop his assault on the leather-bound bag. Every time his knuckles collided with it, the sound challenged every grunt that came out of his mouth. Teeth gritted and brows knitted, he was nothing more than a wild creature slugging a stationary enemy, channeling all of the anger and pain that was threatening to swallow him whole for the past week and a half. In the comfort of his BatCave, where he didn’t need to wear any kind of mask as a hero or a man, it was the only catharsis he knew.

“Bruce,” he heard a familiar voice hum his name and it rang within his soul. She possessed the dangerous gift of silencing parts of him that he wasn’t always comfortable letting go of, so when Wonder Woman surprised him with a visit at such a late hour, Bruce wasn’t at all amused.

He went so far as to pretend he didn’t hear her over the smacking sound his punches made. So desperate to avoid her, he moved faster, throwing all of his body weight into every hit like the punching bag would dare to hit him back the moment he was distracted. Unfortunately, Diana took his coldness as a challenge and approached him with her warm heart on full display. She grabbed the bottom of the bag when it swung back and refused to release it from her Amazonian grip. Then she stared him down and offered him another chance to address her properly.

Bruce didn’t say a word until she arched her brow at him. Recoiling slightly, he muttered, “It’s late, Diana.”

“Luckily for me, I was given the access codes to the mansion, so I can come and go whenever I want.” she reminded him cooly.

“Thanks for reminding me, I need to change those tomorrow.” Bruce bit back. The flush of heat from his workout had nearly fallen to a simmer and he refused to let that happen. Lifting his fists up to his jawline, he arched his brow at her as an informal invitation to give him back his punching bag. Though she refused to release it, he was shocked to see her lower it enough so that he could resume his training.

She was offering to spot him, but didn’t need to announce it to him. Instead, she sparred with him verbally and said, “I’ll be sure to get them from Alfred in the evening, then.”

Bruce threw an unprofessional punch forward as an immediate reaction of disfavor regarding her words. He felt a jolt of pain in his thumb due to his haste yet he refused to show the discomfort on his face. Instead, he threw out his other hand in a tight first and moved with more caution. Diana’s presence was much too distracting for his liking and he was more than prepared to ask her to leave.

“Can I do something for you?”

“You can,” she admitted calmly, then paused before telling him what it is. “You can tell me what’s bothering you.”

The fact that she would think it was her place to ask him such a personal question motivated him to fire off a few more swings, regardless of how proper his punches were. “You did not come here just to chat.”

“Maybe I did.” Though she didn’t say it, there was a question that sounded like it needed to be tacked on to the end of her sentence: what are you going to do about it?

The urge to swing at her face came to mind, if only to distract her with a sparring match and keep her out of his head. However, he knew how cunning Diana liked to believe that she was, meaning she’d most likely attach a bet to their match and demand he confide in her if she won. It was much too early in the morning to deal with her sentimentality, so Bruce decided he’d move on from the punching bag altogether.

Turning away from her, he shouted over his shoulder without considering his volume whatsoever, “Wonder Woman’s time could be better spent somewhere else, where she’s needed.”

“I decide where I am needed, Bruce.” Diana informed him with a snap in her tone. She made it clear that she was not a fan of his dismissal of her, but she still refused to leave.

Spinning around at his waist, Bruce glowered at her and bellowed, “And it’s not here. Go home, or go find someone else to play charity case with.”

“If you actually tried to have a normal conversation with me, instead of biting my head off without even trying to be civil,” Diana warned him of his missteps as she walked towards him. She stopped herself from reaching him by planting her feet into the floor a few feet away from him, providing them both with some necessary space. “Maybe I would have left by now. But you’re much too proud to let that happen.”

Her boldness matched his own and it dismantled his confidence somewhat. Normally, he had to rile her more for her to pick up the gauntlet of a hostile conversation. Instead, at such a late hour on a rather stormy night, Diana was having none of his backtalk. Whatever the goal was in her mind, it only put him off of speaking to her even more.

“Go home.” He ordered her bluntly, unconcerned with how she’d take it.

Bruce turned away and took a step toward his weights, only to hear her drag her one of her Wonder Woman boots along the cemented floor behind him. Curious, he walked forward again, and the same noise followed him. He didn’t know if it was her own pride that was causing her to stick with him or if she was actually as benevolent as she claimed to be, but he was having none of it.

Not tonight.

Not after what he had been through, the haunting memories keeping him awake until the early hours of the morning, punching the anxiety and regret out of his soul with evident futility.

His fists acted like nothing more than dead weight when he felt his body fly backward suddenly, the years of physical training he’d suffered through rendered useless when he was at the mercy of an impatient Amazon. Bruce knew he had been tugged by the collar of his shirt, but he was caught off guard the moment his boots left the ground. “Diana!?” He screamed, both reprimanding her and demanding an explanation.

She didn’t offer one, though. Instead, she chucked his two hundred and fifty-pound body over her shoulder and left the BatCave’s training space without any type of warning. Furious, erratic, he tossed and squirmed uncontrollably as he fought her clutches to the best of his mortal ability. Nevertheless, nothing he did slowed her down. She carried on with her unannounced trek from his at-home gym, to the staircase that would take them upstairs, through the secret entryway and into his front hall.

Bruce’s could feel the blood that rushed into his face when he roared, “Put me down, NOW!”

“You’re only making my job that much easier when you flail like a child.” Warned Diana. She sounded exhausted from her efforts of transporting him from the basement to the upper level of his house, but he had never asked her to handle him like a brute. It felt like his personal coping mechanism was being scolded, making him believe that she saw him as inferior when stacked against her eternal wisdom. The longer he was in her hold, the angrier he became.

When they reached the hallway leading to the bedrooms, Bruce heard a door open and knew at once that Alfred had been awakened by his wailing. “Alfred!” He called to his butler with a tone so desperate, it embarrassed him. He felt even more foolish than he already did when he blurted out, “Stop her! Do something!”

By the time they passed by Alfred’s door, it was magically closed, and his so-called friend was nowhere in sight. “Traitor!” He condemned his butler, nearly seething by the time they reached his bedroom door.

To his dismay, Diana predicted his attempt at an escape and flattened his wrists against his sides so he couldn’t cling to the doorframe. He had handled villains with more respect than she was showing him at that moment when she went so far as to throw him down onto his bed. If there was one thing he hated, it was losing control of any situation. Glaring at her from his sprawled out position on his own mattress, it took everything he had left in his weary body not to tackle her to the ground and fight her right then and there. “Don’t ever do that to me again!”

She couldn’t have looked more repulsed by his behavior in the darkened state of his bedroom, with nothing but the moonlight coming in through his open window highlight the scowl on her face. Still, she pretended that she wasn’t wearing her heart on her sleeve and inquired, “Are you trying to manage your stress or overwork yourself into the grave? Sometimes, I can’t tell the difference with you.”

Those words struck him as if she had sent his punching bag right back at him. It felt like her voice was a can opener and his heart had been forcefully exposed when she dared to mention death around him. There was the typical reason as to why he loathed discussing grief, and then there was his newly founded reason.

Jason.

Bruce felt sober all of a sudden. All of his efforts to expunge the hurt from his heart were revealed as completely fruitless under the careful eye of Diana, Wonder Woman, friend to all and savior to some. Her entire energy was such a shift from those people who lived in his city and were trapped by its demons, she had the force of an earthquake behind her when she tried to move his mind into perspective. He was just so rebellious to any way of doing things that weren’t his own, but the resurrection of his ward was something that he had the skill set to handle.

The way Jason yelled at him as he walked away from the chance to kill the Joker proved that to him.

Shoulders sunken and breathing shallow, Bruce glanced at Diana’s shadowy form and told her the truth. “Neither can I.”

He feared she would let a pause sit between them and emphasize the deplorable authenticity to his words. Instead, she graciously carried on like his admission wasn’t horrifying. “A great midway point is going to sleep.”

“How do you figure that?” Bruce said, stunned.

“Because,” she was humming again, speaking softly to him as she approached the bed. Diana dared to even sit on the edge of it when he had been rejecting her the entire time she’d bee with him that night. Impressed by her bravery, he said nothing when she made herself comfortable. “Sleeping replenishes the energy that stress can steal away, and when you’re asleep, the world doesn’t exist.”

“Sleep doesn’t exist in Gotham.” explained Bruce in a monotone voice.

To his surprise, Diana’s delicate touch grazed his forehead. She had leaned in while he rebutted her and brushed his hair off of his forehead carefully, tenderly. She maintained her gentle composure when she responded, “It will, once you close your eyes.”

“Diana–”

“You’re the most powerful man in the city. You can schedule in sleep if you need to, and I’m saying you do need to.” decreed Wonder Woman. She still managed to appear almighty while speaking to him in the softest tone of voice he’d ever heard. He had witnessed her transform from a domineering dictator to an amicable ally within the time span of mere minutes. Nevertheless, he knew that both sides of Diana were based upon the respect she had for him.

Even when he didn’t deserve it.

A heavy breath escaped him while he summoned the courage to admit his agreement to her, both rising from deep within his gut, “I’ll try to sleep. I won’t make any promises though.”

He didn’t need to see her clearly to know that he had just made her grin. Diana lifted herself off of the bed, bringing herself to stand tall next to the bed as she praised him, “That’s all I needed to hear.”

“Wait,” Bruce exclaimed rather threateningly when he saw her turn to leave. After everything was said and done, he felt uncomfortable to have her usher him to bed and then depart. “You can stay here, in the manor, for the night. You never even told me why you stopped by but we can discuss it in the morning.”

A beam of moonlight landed on her shoulder when she stopped in her tracks, and it traced the length of her collar bone as she turned back around. When she faced him once again, she explained, “I came here to check on you, Bruce. I was worried about you. So long as I know you’ve rested - even a little bit - I’ll take my leave knowing you’re taking better care of yourself.”

Bruce felt himself becoming unhinged again at the suggestion. “There are more rooms in this house than I know what to do with. Just take one of them for the night. Please, Diana.”

“That’s not necessary–”

Bruce jumped out of bed in an obvious attempt at protesting her rejection of his offer. Before a single word of argument could escape that mouth of hers, he poorly veiled an order as a suggestion, “Either you stay the night, or I’ll just go back downstairs. You know I will.”

“Your stubbornness truly knows no bounds, does it?” It was not a compliment that she was giving him, but he took it was one to know he could get under the skin of a literal goddess so easily.

The idea of getting under something inspired him to find a compromise between both of their motivations. The king-sized bed next to him was so foreign to him at this point in his life that it wasn’t truly his own, so he thought it was fair to divide it between the two of them. “Stay here tonight. I’ll sleep, you’ll sleep. Deal?”

She didn’t even hesitate to add her one clause to their agreement, “I claim the side closest to the door, then.”

Bruce held up his hands as his answer. Then, he crawled over to the side of the bed she hadn’t declared as her own and fell against the headboard in a slumped over position. His back had been facing her for no more than a few moments, but she had already climbed into the bed and laid down flat on her back. Dressed in her armor still, he realized quickly that he should present her with some time of sleepwear as well. Leaping out of bed and seeing her rise from the corner of his eye, he latched onto the handles of his wardrobe and threw it open in order to find her a long shirt of some kind.

The mattress didn’t creak as he searched, proving to him that she was merely observing him as he scavenged through drawers that he hadn’t looked at in months. As he dug for something appropriate, he came across an old t-shirt that was gifted to him years ago. It was a group he never listened to, but they were a favorite of the person who gave it to him. Seeing the red letters sprawled out on the black fabric even reminded him of the colors associated with…

“Jason.”

“What?” Diana asked.

“It’s… It’s Jason,” Bruce fought the lump in his throat and forced the name of the revived Robin out of his body like he wanted to exorcize the evil energy attached to it. He threw the shirt back into the drawer, fuming. Refusing to relive the shock once again, he ground out the words he needed to say in order to supply her with context. “He’s back. From the dead.”

Diana didn’t say anything right away. In fact, she didn’t utter a single word until he decided upon a shirt and turned around to toss it at her. When she caught it, it was almost as if she had grasped the concept of what she wanted to tell him.

“Not in a way that benefits him, though.” Diana implied with her tone of voice that she assumed she was correct but was still open to hearing him divulge his point of view.

Bruce returned to the bed just as she stood up and began to unclasp her Amazonian girdle. In order to give her - and himself - some privacy, he faced the alarm clock on the nightstand next to him and fiddle with the alarm he’d need to set for the morning. “It isn’t how he’s back that’s the problem. It’s what he’s wasting his second chance at life on, and what he wanted me to do, to repent.”

He heard the fabric of his shirt being moved around as she surmised his meaning, “Revenge.”

“Murder.” Bruce clarified.

“One of your villains?”

“Yes.” He grumbled.

The bed dipped next to him and he almost didn’t turn over to face her. He felt absolutely stranded in the uncharted territory of their conversation, even though he had been the one to start it. Opening up about one of his greatest shames wasn’t easy, to the point that his chest tightened like it was compressing his heart to keep him for admitting to anything else he kept locked within his heart. His body was a cage for so many atrocities that his personality, his essence was so easily skewed by everything that was trapped inside.

The moment Diana touched his shoulder and grazed her fingertips against his sternum, Bruce felt a shiver rattle his spine. He threw himself into the middle of the bed to keep her from feeling the way his muscles shook, only to be met with the most understanding and empathetic expression he’d ever seen on her face, the face of Wonder Woman herself. Then, she pressed him further for more information, “But you didn’t do it.”

“No.” Was his instantaneous reply.

She didn’t look relieved or shocked. She looked exactly the same. She never expected anything else from him and that unspoken confidence touched him, even though he felt disassociated from the warmth it provided him with. “Then the only thing you can do” - she inhaled while processing what he had told her, trying to come to grips with what his life was truly like, most likely - “is hope that he sees the meaning behind your choice, and seek you out once again.”

“Right, but he might not–”

“He just might,” Diana said plainly. Bruce heard the finality of her statement and knew that it wasn’t meant to cause an argument. Instead of challenging his pessimism, she unintentionally pointed out an important piece of the puzzle: he no longer knew what this Jason was capable of. Perhaps he could travel down a darker path, becoming an adversary for the Batman rather than a partner in crime. Or, maybe all he needed was to face his inner demons to see what he was capable of when given the chance to live again.

The high risk-high reward lifestyle was nothing new for the Batman. As he grew older though, Bruce secretly wished that he could play the odds less and less. More and more people were coming into his life through the Justice League meaning there was such a greater chance of loss. It wasn’t something Jason had toyed with when he was his partner, however. It was the Batman’s game, not Robin’s. Witnessing the cruelty of Jason’s circumstances after Dick’s desertion prior, it felt like his teammates were nothing but weaknesses to him at times.

Then, there was Diana with all of her godly might. She had stayed with him even when he hadn’t deserved it, which he could easily blame on her immortality and thousands of years of life, where she had been encountering prideful people for centuries in order to prepare herself for his ego in the present. Her fortitude wasn’t always something he admired, a fact that she knew all too well. Tonight, however, it was the only solace he’d had in far too long. Her companionship was the balm he had never even dared to ask for. Still, it was always there to try and minimize the damage done to his soul.

“He might,” Was his whispered response to her after the long pause he introduced into their conversation. Unable to give her anything more for the night, he reached for the bed sheets and tugged them up over their bodies. They had fallen asleep together on missions before in grassy fields, in caves and other uncomfortable places. Sharing his bed with her felt just as intimate as unveiling his grievances. Overwhelmed by the amount of exposure he’d given her in one night, Bruce muttered an incoherent, “Good night.”

For the last time that evening, she hummed to him like she was using his name to sing him a lullaby, and he swore to himself that he’d never tell her the immediate sense of calm it provided him with to hear her serenade him to sleep with nothing more than a few simple words, “Good night, Bruce.”

#maiden writes #wonderbat #brucexdiana #Wonder Woman #Batman

[shipmistress9]

Undine - 10

Fandom: HTTYD

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Hicret/Hicretstrid

Modern AU. Kinda-Mermaid AU.

FF-net   AO3

. o O o .

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @heathenvampires

. o O o .

That night, neither Hiccup nor Eret got much sleep. After the first shock of realisation had calmed, they’d compared what they’d seen, methodically but still slightly detached. It was just too surreal. The Undine, a literal mythical creature, was real. Even Hiccup, who hadn’t dismissed the stories as legends quite as easily as Eret had, was stunned. There was a difference in believing something might be real and knowing that it was real, after all. 

At some point, Eret opened his research file about the Undine on his laptop while Hiccup went to prepare them big mugs of tea and coffee respectively. He was sure that they would need it. 

Hiccup had seen all these documents before, but he had to admit that they felt differently now, even though they still didn’t tell them much.

“It makes no sense,” Eret exclaimed after a while, frustrated. “Nothing of all this. So maybe the initial story was true and the beautiful woman that had been seen wandering through the night really was her.”

Hiccup nodded, slowly and with his lips twitching. The woman – or Undine, or mermaid, or spirit, or whatever else they both had seen – definitely was beautiful, there was no denying that.

“That much might be true after all,” Eret went on without a pause. “But the rest? Maybe people are right and she really is something of a bad-luck-charm. But I don’t think so, there’s nothing connecting her with those petty events and I wouldn’t say that we were cursed by bad luck since our arrival here, either.”

Again, Hiccup nodded. “I agree. These stories are nothing but fairy tales, people trying to explain away their own faults and mistakes or bad turns of fate. How could she even be responsible for those?”

Eret grunted and gave him a weird look. “Aye. Although, given that she exists, we can’t rule out anything just yet. Who knows, she might have some talent that influences people and cause such events if that’s what she desires. Hel, she might even be able to wield actual magic!”

He threw up his hands in frustration, making HIccup cough to hide his grin. Eret didn’t believe in magic whatsoever. For him to kind of considering its existence now was a huge thing. “Yes, but we know she doesn’t. She’s not evil,” he threw in to distract Eret. 

But apparently, that hadn’t been quite what he’d wanted to hear. Yes, he became calmer, but not in a good way. “Are you sure about that?” he asked in a low voice. “It’s not as if we know anything about her. Yes, she didn’t hurt us. Yet. But what about the other story, the one Mrs Ingerman told us? The one about the dead boy?”

“But that’s just another story, nothing to be taken seriously,” Hiccup argued, frowning. How could Eret not see that? “She must have been here for ages, definitely since we moved here. And even though we live so close to the ocean and regularly went swimming, she never attacked us, never harmed us, never even willingly showed herself to us. And when we spotted her, she fled, as if she was afraid of us. How does that make sense when she’s really as dangerous as Mrs Ingerman thinks?”

Eret looked troubled, and Hiccup felt sorry for having caused that in his boyfriend. He didn’t want to argue about this. But it was all just so weird, so confusing, and Eret’s mood just made no sense to him. 

Slowly, Eret shook his head, a deep frown on his face. “I don’t know, Hiccup. But the fact remains, we don’t know anything about her motives, her powers, Hel, we know nothing. All we can do is make assumptions, just like the people living here forever. And they all think she’s dangerous. How can you trust her so easily?”

To that, Hiccup had nothing sensible to say. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I just do.” He understood that those words wouldn’t be able to convince Eret though. So he made another suggestion. “Look, how about this. We leave it for now and try to get some sleep. We’re both too tired and agitated to think clearly anyway. And then we see how things look in the morning. Maybe we can make some tests, go swimming again and try to find her. We always stay together so nothing can happen,” he added quickly when he saw how Eret wanted to object. “But before we can make a decision, we need to find out more. Do some researches.”

Hiccup knew that Eret still wasn’t entirely happy with this idea, but he obviously wasn’t against letting the topic drop for now. “Okay. Let’s see how things are in the morning.”

. o O o .

When Eret woke up in the morning, it was to the incredibly pleasant sensation of something hot licking and kissing away at his already half-hard cock. His needy groan in response must have been enough to tell Hiccup that he was awake, because just a moment later his ministrations gained a lot more purpose, a nimble tongue swirling around his glans before eager lips took him in and the sudden suction made him nearly arch off the bed.

Eret greatly enjoyed waking up like this, squirming beneath Hiccup's skilled mouth as he took him down his throat, the tight muscles clenching when he swallowed around him nearly his undoing. He moaned and trembled at the exquisite sensations, ready to burst in an almost ridiculous short time. Hiccup was just too good at this. It only took a few minutes, then he came with a guttural groan, Hiccup swallowing him down nearly too much for his sensitive nerves. He lay still, panting, when Hiccup pulled back, a teasing spark in his eyes, and crawled back up Eret's body, placing playful bite-kisses on his nipples before claiming his mouth in a deep kiss. 

Neither of them ever minded tasting themselves on each others’ tongues, so Eret responded without hesitation, pulled his boyfriend into his broader arms and held him close, one hand roaming down to find Hiccup half hard already. After years into their relationship, they knew each other so well, giving Eret a fairly good idea of what Hiccup was up to. With one hand, he felt for the lube they kept near the bed, the other roaming down Hiccup's back and over his firm ass, testingly brushing a finger over his hole. As expected, Hiccup let out a wanton moan and bucked against him, his eyes full of desire as they met his. Grinning, Eret rolled them around until Hiccup lay beneath him, then resumed kissing him as he slowly pushed generously lubed fingers inside him. 

Hiccup wasn't always in the mood for prostate stimulation, but when he was he went all out. The first brush against those sensitive nerves made him moan and shudder, the next whimper and arch. Eret greatly enjoyed the show as he worked him open, Hiccup's hands clenching at the sheets in no time, his knuckles standing out white. His cock was throbbing, bobbing to beg for attention and leaking one pearly white bead of precome after the other. He had his teeth gritted to keep himself from begging for release or right out screaming, and the cords in his neck were so tight that Eret couldn't resist sucking a harsh bruise over them.

"Fuck, that's – Aah – that's enough, Ret," Hiccup gasped in a short moment of control, weakly pushing at his arm and wriggling around until he had one leg on each side of Eret's hips. 

Eret nearly laughed at his eagerness and the impossible combination of innocent wide eyes and a seductive smirk on Hiccup’s face. Gods, how he loved this idiot! Slowly to tease his boyfriend a little more, he reached for more lube and spread it over his cock. Fingering Hiccup had been enough to make him hard again as well, and he only needed a few more strokes to ensure he was ready.

"C' mon!" Hiccup pleaded impatiently, squirming and bucking to make his point. Eret might have drawn it out a little longer, but he was just as eager, pushing Hiccup's legs up a little and positioning his cock at his ass, hissing at the contact. 

“You ready?” he panted, blinking to get himself to focus again. Amidst their eagerness, it would be all too easy to hurt Hiccup, which was something he wanted to avoid at any costs. No amount of pleasure was worth that form of discomfort. But Hiccup just gave an impatient whine and nodded, twitching to make him move.

Pushing in slowly so as to not overwhelm either of them drew stretched moans from them both. Eret shuddered at the heat wrapping around his cock, at the rippling muscles that seemed to suck him in even deeper. Involuntarily, his hips bucked forward, sinking deeper into that hot little ass and apparently hitting Hiccup's prostate right on as he gave a chocked cry. 

"M-more," he moaned. "Fuck, Ret, more. Please!"

Eret's mouth stretched into a grin. As calm and composed, timid even, as Hiccup usually came across, he really was surprisingly wild when it came to sex. It’s always the quiet ones… he mused, then settled more firmly, kneeling between Hiccup's legs and holding him by the hips, and began to move for real. 

He started with measured, slow strokes only, but very soon picked up speed and strength, lengthening his thrusts until he fucked his needy boyfriend with abandon. Fuck, that was good! Precome and lube made the slide easy, clenching muscles sucking at his throbbing length until he could think of barely anything but the pleasure surging through him, pooling low in his belly. 

But not yet. Eret fought to hold back, to last as long as he could. Hiccup’s cock stood proudly between them, throbbing and leaking, begging to get touched. But neither of them did; it was how Hiccup preferred it. It always took a little longer for him to come just from this, certainly longer than Eret who took Hiccup’s cock more regularly, but the foreplay had been a good start and the show was always worth it. 

Hiccup twisted and arched, cried and sobbed in his growing need for release. Eret was jabbing at his prostate without a moment’s break now, thrusting into his boyfriends’ lithe frame with all his strength, knowing that he could take it. Eret’s grip became tighter when he felt his own climax closing in again, but he fought to hold out as long as he could, knowing that Hiccup was close. Just a little more, just a few more thrusts, just– 

“Oh, FUUUCK!” 

Hiccup howled, body convulsing as pleasure surged through him, making a mess of his stomach and the bed around them. His hands were tearing at the sheets, his muscles tensing, clutching him tightly, and Eret couldn’t hold back any longer either. With a low grunt, he succumbed to the sensation and the amazing sight in front of him, his hips shuddering, pressing in close. 

After a quick clean-up, Eret dropped next to a pretty much boneless Hiccup, his typical lopsided grin even wider than usual. “Damn, that was fantastic,” he hummed as he draped a lazy arm over freckled skin. “Good morning, by the way.”

Hiccup chuckled weakly. “Yeah, was pretty good, I’d say.” Then he turned a little to better snuggle into Eret’s embrace. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Smiling, Eret leaned in and brushed his lips over Hiccup’s temple. “Yeah. Love you too.”

They stayed like that for nearly an hour, lazily cuddling, exchanging kisses, and simply enjoying their closeness. But eventually, they’d both recovered enough to get up, the need for breakfast and the bathroom growing too strong. It really was a perfect morning – until they changed the soiled sheets of their bed.

“So, what are we going to do today? Have you thought about my suggestion from last night?” Hiccup asked, pretty much out of the blue. 

At first, Eret wasn’t sure what he meant, but when he looked up to find Hiccup suspiciously innocently focussing on redecorating the cushions, it dawned on him. He’d nearly forgotten the incident of the previous day, but now it all came back to him. The face of the Undine as she floated right below him through the water. And then seeing that same face again on Hiccup’s painting, gazing at him with that same mysterious expression. And the question what do now, now that they knew. 

“You mean looking for her? Trying to find out more about her?”

Hiccup nodded and looked at him expectantly. 

With a sigh, Eret let his hands run through his hair. He wasn’t sure what to think, what to expect. He’d heard Hiccup’s reasoning about how she hadn’t done them any harm even though she certainly had the opportunity in the past. And it wasn’t that he actually believed her to pose a threat to them. But there was still the story about the dead boy, and somehow he felt that there was more to that story than just another fairytale where people blamed a common tragedy on a local myth. 

And just casually thinking about something like an Undine as something real gave him a headache. Yes, they had proof, sort of. But his mind still refused to believe it. 

“Okay, let’s see if we can find her,” he eventually gave in, smiling at Hiccup’s eagerness but not expecting something to come of it. Unless she showed herself to them again, longer and more clearly, maybe even interacted with them, they wouldn’t get any solid information. And given how quickly she’d disappeared both times one of them had spotted her… well, Eret highly doubted they would even get so much as a glimpse at her. 

And as it turned out, he’d been right. They spend nearly half the day in and around the ocean, swimming out to the rock formation and diving below the surface. But no matter how hard or for how long they looked, they couldn’t find anything. The ocean was just the ocean, rocks only rocks, and fish only fish. 

Eret could sense that Hiccup was disappointed by their lack of results, but he still marked the day as a success. Even with them now knowing about her existence, she hadn’t harmed them in any way. There was no need for secrecy anymore, except that she probably was indifferent if not actually afraid of them. Eret let that assumption slide, not in the mood to argue again. The day had been a good one, all things considered, and it felt good to simply sink into their fresh sheets, exhausted by the long day out and more than happy to have each other for extended cuddling.

One thing was for sure though: No matter how much he wanted to simply drop the entire topic, Eret knew that he wouldn’t be able to do that. For quite some years now, he’d researched myths and legends, never even considering they might be true. Now, he couldn’t help but feel differently, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to rest until he’d found out more.

. o O o .

Far out in the ocean, the creature was hiding, deep down below the surface where she was sure that no human could ever find her. 

And she was scared. 

What would happen now that they had seen her? What would that mean? She knew that she wasn’t supposed to interact with humans, ever, but she didn’t know why or what the consequences would be. 

For the rest of the day and all night, she stayed there, brooding and wondering and pondering what to do now. Was there even something she could do? She already knew that she physically couldn’t stay away, but she also couldn’t get that close again, couldn’t risk them seeing her again, or… or something would happen. It was so confusing, so frustrating; being ruled by this vague knowledge without knowing why. 

In the morning, she already felt the need to swim back again, could hardly resist the lure. But when she felt them in the water later that next day, even over this distance, staying away became impossible. 

Just a little bit closer, she told herself. Just enough so I can watch them from afar.

The moment her eyes found them, she felt as if a strong current that had been pulling at her without her noticing had suddenly set her free; She felt so light, so relieved. Her cool lips twitched into a smile as she watched them swimming around and diving to the ocean’s ground. She wanted to get closer again, to swim around them, playing, pretending. But she didn’t dare to do it. This is close enough, she decided, settling amidst a field of seagrass, just close enough to make out their forms amidst the waves in the distance, and quietly hummed to herself. 

It felt like hours before they left the water for good, hours that seemed to fly by in the blink of an eye. And they weren’t enough. When the night came, she settled back on her rock near the coast, watching the little construction with its warm light, and felt the full impact of her situation. 

She was trapped. She couldn’t go back and leave but she also couldn’t go further, closer. All she could do was keep this safe distance, watching but never getting closer, until they wouldn’t be here anymore. The thought made despair rise inside her, made her keen helplessly. That wouldn’t be enough, couldn’t be enough, she couldn’t resist the longing for that long, already felt how it grew stronger and stronger. She wanted to get closer, to see, to learn, to feel. 

But it was too dangerous. 

She had no choice. 

She was trapped…

. o O o .

Okay, so this chapter didn't turn out as planned. There were so many things supposed to happen and even my rough keywords already were longer than 1500 words. But then, everything came differently.

The boys, mostly Hiccup, became incredibly horny and insisted on the smut. That wasn't even planned. But you know how characters are; they can never behave! So this happened, and I call this chapter quits here. More to happen in the next then...

Hope it was still bearable.

#Undine #Hicret #Hicret lemon #Hicretstrid #mermaid au #OT3 #httyd #fanfiction

[zelink5ever]

In the dark -- SS Zelink drabble

Description: It’s their second night on the surface, and Zelda can’t sleep.

Warnings: Some mention of anxiety/panic.

Notes: I wrote this years ago and forgot about it. I thought now is as good a time as any to post it. There’s a “part 2″ that I will probably post later.

Or read it on AO3. 

Night had fallen on the surface.

It was their second night, and but for the odd hostile bird or plant, it had been calm. She was very fond of the Kikwi, and their interactions with Link. His flustered, adorable expressions did funny things to her stomach.

Her thoughts turned to her dearest friend, and her literal hero. If she concentrated, she could hear his gentle snores through the thin tent walls. It was comforting to her. 

She turned over to lie on her back, frustrated that sleep was taking so long to come. Last night had been rough, yes, but she attributed it to the sudden transition. But now she was starting to think it was something else. Every time she found herself drifting to sleep she jolted awake, terrified to sleep for fear that she would have to stay that way for another thousand years –

It was irrational, she knew. The evil had been banished and Link had woken her. Her presence was no longer needed to keep the seal intact.

But it was keeping her from sleeping and when she did sleep, it was fitful and full of terrifying dreams.

She tried to calm herself, to distract herself from her nightmares, but it only served to make her focus on them. Visions of flame, of cracked earth, of evil come to control it all, and of her unable to do anything, trapped in a jewel and asleep, helpless, forever –  

Suddenly she threw back the blankets and sat up. She could not lie there any longer! She barged out of the tent.

Out in the cool air, her anxieties quieted. The moon was full and a gentle breeze teased her hair. However, now her motivation faltered. Where would she go? She looked around warily. Link himself had said he’d never been to the surface at night before now. What if it changed under cover of darkness?

She felt confident in herself, and in her abilities, but she had not been trained like Link had or endured the trials he did. She felt it would be rather foolish to wander out in the dark alone.

Her eyes fell to Link’s tent. She suddenly longed for his presence, for his warmth, for his surety. She walked quietly over and pushed through the tent flap. Now the sounds of his snores met her ears unhindered. One side of her mouth quirked up in amusement. A chink of moonlight fell on his face where she had opened the tent and she hurried to position herself so that she blocked the light.

Not wishing to disturb him now, her confidence faltered and she turned to leave. 

“Zelda?” she heard him say groggily. Shocked, she turned to face him. He had always been a heavy sleeper. “Are you okay?” he said when she didn’t answer.

“Well, actually…” she started, and she saw him snap to attention to look at her closely, to make sure she was fine. “I’m okay, don’t worry,” she said, hurriedly. “I just …couldn’t sleep. I just wanted to … well … I don’t really know,” she said. She really didn’t. What was he supposed to do to help her? He had already done so much. She felt foolish.

Link sat up. “Couldn’t sleep? Is something bothering you?” He motioned for her to sit next to him. After a moment’s hesitation, she accepted and sat down. She snuggled into his blankets and pillows like she had a few times in his room at the Academy, though it had always been while he was working at his desk. How often had she wondered what it would be like, to sleep next to him, to feel his solid body next to hers? She’d forgotten about his scent, but now it was all around her … she found that it calmed her.

“I suppose, sometimes,” she started, struggling to admit her fear out loud, “I am afraid…when I fall asleep… that I won’t wake up again.”

He cocked his head to the side as he listened. She continued. “I’m afraid I’ll have to sleep for another thousand years, and I just… I can’t…” Tears pricked her eyes. It felt so good to say it aloud.

Link’s arm came around her shoulders and he drew her in to him. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck; his body, and presence, were so warm. She felt soothed. The places their skin touched tingled, and her stomach fluttered at their closeness. 

“You went through such an ordeal, Zelda,” he whispered. “But I promise you will never have to do that again. I will always be there to wake you up. I will always protect you.”

Her tears spilled and she nodded. He brought his other arm up so that he was holding her tightly. They fell into an easy silence, leaning against his pillows. She wasn’t sure how long they remained like that, but it was long enough that her limbs began to feel heavy and her eyelids began to droop.

I should go back to my tent to sleep, she thought to herself, but another pang of fear rang through her – she couldn’t be alone, couldn’t be in her cold tent, could not sleep there by herself.

“Link,” she said softly. He grunted – he had dozed off. “Is it okay if I just sleep in here, tonight? I just don’t want to be by myself…”

“Of course, Zel,” he said. His voice was groggy and a little husky from sleep. “Wake me if you need anything, okay?”

She smiled. He waited until she had nodded in affirmation before he rolled over onto his side and promptly fell back to sleep. 

She snuggled underneath the covers and turned so that her back was pressed against his. She felt safer and calmer here than she had in a long time. Before she could overthink this, she drifted to sleep.

#ss zelink #zelink #zelink fanfiction #drabble #loz fanfiction #zelda #link #skyward sword #my writing #honestly I can' believe i am actually posting this so please be gentle :) #mine #my stuff

[onyour-right]

Nightmares - A Dickkory fic.

Okay, so, this fic here is inspired by this conversation I saw in the dickkory tag a while ago. I wanted to get this done before the start of the New Year but got real busy, so here it is now. 

Just a disclaimer; I’ve never written smut before, so lol, hope it’s somewhat decent. Also, apologies about the length of it, I kinda got carried away. As always, please like/reblog if you enjoyed and leave a review because I love reading comments that let me know how my work has been received. Sorry for any grammatical/spelling errors!

Word count: 2, 892. 

“Kory, it’s not gonna work get out of there, he’s got a cold gun!” Dick warns desperately, frantically through the comms, his heart beating so viciously against his ribcage he fears it might shatter.

Then the next part happens quickly, far too quickly.

One minute Kory’s standing there, tall and fierce like the warrior he knows her to be, her eyes turning a shamrock shade of green as the familiar sight of red flames begin to course under her skin. The next, before Dick has time to even open his mouth and usher another warning, she’s being hit by Bruce’s cold gun and is flying backwards, her body surrounded by a cloud of ice as she crashes down against the cold hard ground. Her bulletproof vest white and icy from the severe impact, her eyes open wide from shock, her body unmoving, frozen… Dead.  

The sight sends icy chills through Dick’s bloodstream, makes the hairs on his arms stand up. “NOOOO!” He yells, rage and anguish in his heart. He needs to take it down. He has to get to her, he needs to get to her.

“KORY!” Dick yells into the silence of his bedroom as he jolts himself awake, his breathing shallow and irregular, his skin hot to touch and slick with sweat. Images of a dead Kory flash through his mind and even as he tries to push them out from his thoughts they cling to him, they linger and they taunt him. Someone else death can snatch from him without warning, another way for him to be knocked down after he’s just now starting to pick himself up again.

The more his mind delves deeper into these dark thoughts the harder it becomes for him to take in a steady breath. He forces himself up into a sitting position and squeezes his eyes shut, his fingers gripping the bed-sheets as they ball into fists. He tries to focus on the steady sound of Kory’s breathing beside him to help anchor him, anchor him to the present, to reality.

“Dick?” Kory calls from beside him, right on cue, almost as if she was following a script that tells her how to navigate her way through to him when he’s like this. Her voice is thick with sleepy concern and he can feel the intensity of her gaze on his back, studying him carefully, patiently.

“I’m okay,” he murmurs automatically, opening his eyes and glancing a look at her from over his shoulder. He hopes it comes across as reassuring, but from the pursed lips and raised eyebrow that Kory sends his way he knows it’s a failed attempt. The worst part about having these nightmares, he thinks, is that not only do they fuck with him - which fair enough they are his dreams after all - but they also end up fucking with her too. There’s no way she could never not offer him comfort when he was distressed, just like he could never not offer her comfort when she was. They’re just two broken people trying to help each other heal.

Kory places her hand on his bare back, shifts herself forward and presses herself against him so she can rest her head on his shoulder, some of the curly strands of her hair tickling his nose. She’s invading his personal space but he doesn’t mind at all, in-fact he craves these moments of affection when she reminds him that she’s with him, that’s she warm and full of life. It’s affection that they don’t usually have time to indulge in during the day, not that they don’t find ways to subtly touch each other, a brush of the fingertips here or a hand on a back there, but it’s hard when they’re basically in charge of two teenage kids and are still searching for a proper place where they can set base.

“Talk to me, Dick.” Her voice is pleading and invitingly warm. The hand on his back slowly starts rubbing soothing circles into his skin and he feels sleep starting to call for him the more she does that, but he’s worried about what he’ll see if he closes his eyes again.

He lets out a heavy exhale, scrubs at his face with his right hand before running his fingers through his already dishevelled hair. There’s nothing new for him to say that they haven’t already discussed, no feeling that he hasn’t confessed to her already. This whole new communication thing is both a blessing and a curse, he finds. “It’s just the same old shit, Kory.”

She lets out a non-committal hum and lifts herself away from his shoulder, the sudden loss of her body against him has him frowning and he’s seconds away from questioning her about it, but then she suddenly swings a leg over his hip so that she’s now straddling him and automatically his previous thoughts are forgotten. Both her hands come up to cup his face as she leans forward and presses a soft, lingering kiss against his lips before pulling back again.

His hands instinctively drop down to either side of her waist, his fingers digging into her skin as he moves his head forward to chase her for more kisses, kisses that go from soft and playful to desperate and intense in a matter of seconds. Heat shoots through his veins, makes it feel like his whole body is vibrating with desire and need to taste more of her.  

“Kory,” he gasps when they eventually part for air, his forehead still pressed against hers, his eyes unable to focus on anything else but her parted and wet lips.

“Yes, Richard?” She responds, her tone surprisingly airily and full of teasing.

He snorts at the use of his full name, shakes his head a little to clear his thoughts before he can say what he’s so desperate for. “I need you.”

“Show me then.”

Those three words are all the motivation he needs. He captures her lips in a searing kiss once more, one hand moving up from her waist to her back so that he can push her flush against him, can feel her breasts against his chest. He uses his skills as a former acrobat to flip them over so that now he’s on his knees on top and she’s underneath him.

Kory lets out a giggle, reaching her hands up and running them down the expanse of his chest, down to his adonis belt, dangerously close to an area he’ll quickly lose all sense of control if she reaches. Dick curses inwardly, tightens his already firm grip on her waist. She really is going to be the death of him. He bends his head down to pepper heated and bruising kisses along her lips, down her jawbone and along her neck, her collarbone, so that come morning there’ll be a faint mark there, a reminder of what they’d done, what they’re about to do. He knows how much she loves to leave claiming marks on him, how much she loves it when he leaves them on her.

“Dick, come on,” Kory exhales, frustration and need dripping from her tone. The sound sparks a surge of pleasure through him; that she’s just as bothered and affected as he is makes him chuckle against her, also makes him feel a little smug too.

“Be patient, Kory,” he murmurs against her body, smirking proudly when he hears her sharp inhale. He wants to take his time with her, feeling her, exploring.

“Fuck you,” she spits back breathlessly. She’s not used to being so out of control and it shows from her lack of patience with him. But he appreciates it all the same, because it means she trusts him, trusts that he’ll be careful with her and not mistreat her like she’s been so mistreated in the past.

“Oh, we’ll get to that later.”

He continues nipping and tasting at her frustratingly slow; along the path between her breasts, along the swell of one of her breasts which he eventually takes into his mouth, his tongue tracing the sensitive nub before sucking on it. His other hand gliding up one side of her until he reaches her other breast, palming it fully then brushing his thumb repeatedly over her aroused nipple.  It draws out a series of loud and helpless whimpers from Kory, has her hand coming to rest against the back of his head, her fingers gripping and tugging on his hair firmly.  

Dick clenches down on his jaw and holds back from letting out a guttural moan. He knows what she’s trying to do, what’s she trying to say, but he won’t give her the satisfaction. “Kory don’t,” he cautions, a low grumble in his voice.

She hums innocently, her free hand moving down from his adonis belt about to reach his dick when his sudden hand on hers halts her movements. Dick interlaces their fingers and pins her firmly against the bed.

“What the fuck did I just say?” He growls roughly, he’s already painfully hard and really doesn’t need any further temptation from her. Before Kory had interrupted he was planning on taking his time, savouring the taste of her, but now he’s a little frustrated and just wants to punish her for not listening to him.

Dick uses both hands to reach down and hoist Kory’s legs up, draping them over his shoulders so he can gain better access to her. The surprised yelp that slips from her mouth is absolutely priceless. He ducks down, trailing kisses up her left thigh until his mouth covers her entrance, the fingers in his hair almost instantly tightening in want. He slips his tongue through her crease then, circling it furiously inside of her, lapping up her natural juices and forcing her to shriek out for him.  

The painful yet pleasurable sensation that comes from Kory yanking on his hair makes him retaliate by sucking mercilessly at her cunt, relishing the taste of her and thriving over the incoherent babbles and curses that stream out of her mouth. She’s so deliciously slick and wet for him which makes it easier when he slides his two fingers past her folds and inside of her.

She bucks up into his palm, panting heavily, her skin sheen with sweat and her hips bucking up. He can tell she’s close to completely unravelling and that’s when he alternates between painfully slow and then fast strokes with his tongue, his fingers teasing out and stroking the sensitive core of her clit. She tastes so good, so good it could kill him.

Dick has known power throughout his life; the power to captivate and move a crowd of people when he was an acrobat, the power from being a police detective, the power he felt when he was working with Batman as Robin, the power he feels when he beats on bad guys who manage to slip through the many cracks in the law. But nothing – and he’s not at all being dramatic - gives him greater fulfilment and pride than the ability to reduce a woman like Kory into a crying mess.

“Oh yes, Dick, yes,” she gasps loudly, coming messily over his fingers. But he doesn’t let up yet, he’s in no way done with her. His fingers continue to play with her sensitive spot torturously, his tongue moving inside her with new found vigour. It doesn’t take long before she orgasms again, with him following seconds after just from the satisfaction of pleasing her.

Minutes after he’s finished is when Kory murmurs, his hands gripping the back of her thighs to bring her legs back down to the bed. “Fucking hell.”

He lifts his head up and softens when he sees her; a blissful smile on her lips even as she’s breathing hard, an arm thrown lazily over her eyes. He’s never been an artist but in this moment he wishes he was, just so he could capture Kory in this unique light; open, relaxed and just so utterly fuckable. But then, like most masterpieces tend to be, they’re never captured quite right on paper, are almost always better experienced in person.  

Not that he’d ever let anyone even get the opportunity to experience the sheer beauty that is Kory. It’s a cause he’s completely committed to, a hill he’s more than happy to die on.

He peels her arm back from over her eyes so that he can peer into them momentarily, before leaning down and brushing his nose against the outer shell of her ear, whispering softly because he knows how it sends a thrill through her. “You had enough yet?”

She suppresses a groan and the urge to swat at his head. The smug bastard. Instead she settles for a derisive snort, rolling her eyes and shifting her hand at the back of his head down to the nape of his neck, her manicured fingernails tracing patterns on his back and sending goose bumps along his skin. “No, and I seem to recall a certain someone saying I was going to be fucked.”

Dick shivers from her touch, is instantly aware of the game they’re now playing and can’t help but play along. “Whatever my Space Princess commands.”

Kory rolls her eyes again but stays quiet, he’s taken to calling her that in private ever since she started getting her memories back properly. She’ll never let him know just how much she loves it though, wants to drag it out and leave him guessing a bit longer.

“Get on with it then, Richard.” She quips, her eyes alight with energy and daring.

In response he dips his head in a mocking bow before kissing her, his lips moving feverishly against hers as he shifts himself so that he’s lying in line with her and then pushes himself into her. A deeply content hum sounding from the back of his throat at finally being inside her, of filling her completely and her taking him so well.

His movements start off deliberately slow, his thrusts into her making her breath hitch repeatedly; but then Kory sinks her nails into his back, drops her forehead down to rest in the crook of his neck and begs him in such a sweet, irresistible voice. “Faster, Dick. Please.”

His thrusts instantly pick up pace, turning rough and wild and eliciting loud groans from her. It’s an indescribable feeling being inside of her like this, the both of them moving in perfect rhythm with each other, relishing in the feeling of being like one. Neither of them have hang-ups about sex, hell, most times he’s used it as a tool to avoid having real discussions, but not with Kory. Sex with her is like some kind of magical experience that only serves in bringing them closer rather than pushing them apart.

“Fuck, Kory,” he groans into her ear. She’s grinding her hips so perfectly against his, her muted cries against his shoulder spurring him on and making him thrust even wilder insider of her. He feels like every inch of him is on fire, melting under her touch.

Kory lifts her head up and whimpers, “I’m close, so fucking close.” He can feel it, can feel it from the way she starts writhing beneath him, like she’s trying to find a position to alleviate some of the unbearable tension building up inside of her. He’s close too, can feel himself seconds away from completely tumbling over the edge. It makes him thrust into her deeply. Just a little bit more…

Her back arches off the bed as she comes undone, the action triggering his own orgasm and making him spill inside of her. He can feel that she’s not quite done entirely, still has more to give and so he continues to move into her, prolonging her pleasure until she climaxes one last time.

Dick stays inside of her as they both try to steady their breathing, tucks away a curly strand of her red hair behind her ears and then just watches her, the echoes of their heavy breathing the only sound in the room. He studies her face; the way her eyes flutter shut, the way she bites down at her bottom lip with a lazy smile, the way there’s the smallest hint of her flames flickering beneath her black skin.

“You’re staring,” she says knowingly, her eyes still closed.

“You’re beautiful,” he replies simply.  

Kory cracks open an eye, releases her bottom lip from her teeth so she can grin up at him. “You’re corny.”

He huffs out a laugh and carefully pulls out of her, dropping down beside her. The morning light starts to filter into the room through the curtains, signalling that they’ll probably have to get up and start the day soon, but he’s not ready to leave this safe haven with her, wants to live in this moment a while longer.

Dick tilts his head towards Kory, a silent invitation for her. She shifts closer to him and presses herself against his side, resting her head against his chest. He snakes an arm around her back, his thumb running back and forth against her smooth skin.  She fits next to him perfectly, he realizes, fits like the missing piece to a complicated puzzle.

//

#dc titans #dickkory #dick grayson x koriandr #dickkory fanfiction #G writes #please read and review

[kookiesspacebuns]

Suite 114 | Pt. 10 |

■ pairing: Jimin X OC

■ genre: fluff, smut

■ words: 3.6k

■ a/n: Well.....I know I took forever to upload this. Writer's block is a bitch. But here it is! After some motivation from a few readers, some amazing Jimin dreams and all of the cutest new Jimin content lately....I finally felt it in me to write! Sorry for the long wait 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

MASTERLIST

I trace my fingers across the porcelain face laying next to me. The tips of my fingers follow the soft rays of the early morning sunlight, filtering through the window behind me and onto his peaceful, sleeping form. My touch lingers on his pillowy bottom lip as I recall the events from the night before.

I feel so out of place next to this almost god-like man and self conscious all of a sudden. I retract my fingers from his pink mouth. A deep ache burrows its way into my heart, along with sudden fear and realizations.

This can’t last. It's too good to be true. This may change everything.

I frown at the thoughts invading my head and watch Jimin's chest rise and fall with every slow breath he takes. I've never been one to have regrets, and I definitely don't regret what happened between us, but I do fear for my heart. The new feelings that encompassed my heart last night scare me but I don't want to miss out on this once in a lifetime experience. Even if it may be fleeting. Even if it leaves my heart in pieces on the floor. I want to enjoy the ride, with no regrets.

I check my phone to see that it's just after 5 am.

Holy shit.

We slept unmoving for over twelve hours. It couldn't have been later than four when we fell asleep yesterday. I guess all of my wet dreams kept me from fully resting the past few days, and I'm sure Jimin had to be utterly exhausted from working so hard too. No wonder I feel well rested and wide awake.

I creep out of bed, making sure not to disturb his slumber, and take a hot shower. The steaming hot water envelops my body and clears my mind of all thoughts, except for one. Thank you, whoever invented the hot water heater.

I snicker at the silly thought and stick my face under the stream of water.

“What's so funny?”

I yelp and cover my chest out of instinct, while my foggy eyes try and make out the figure standing outside the shower door.

“Jimin!” I exclaim, placing a hand over my pounding heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

He slides the shower glass door open a few inches and pokes his head through. “Can I join you?” His eyes scan my naked, wet body.

“Umm, okay.” I reply shyly, still trying to cover myself.

He smiles and steps into the shower, shutting the sliding door behind him. My eyes instantly lower to the hardness between his legs. The sight of his thickness and the memory of how it felt inside of me, has me wet instantly.

Jimin reaches up and touches the bottom of my chin to close my mouth that I didn't realize was gaping open. I blush up at his gorgeous, smirking face. His thumb brushes over my cheek.

“You can't be shy now, after how you were last night.”

I purse my lips and direct my vision onto his bare chest, knowing full well he's right. He unfolds my arms and places them back down. His gaze lingers on my hardened nipples before moving up to meet my eyes. Before I can comprehend what is happening, he hooks his hand under my right knee and lifts my leg up exposing my heated core to the cool air. I inhale sharply when his fingers slide down my folds with ease and tease around my entrance.

Jimin closes the little distance between us, so that water sprays onto his dark hair and down the side of his body. Wet strands of hair stick to his face, making him look dark and sinister. My heart squeezes at the way he looks down at me.

He kisses me passionately, pressing my skin into the cold tile, as his fingers explore me. The taste of him overpowers all of my senses and I lock away the memory of how he tastes away, never wanting to forget it's sweetness. His lips leave me tentatively and he places his forehead against mine. His lower hand stills, allowing me to release a shaky, pent up breath.

“I don't think I'll ever get enough of you.” His warm breath cascades down my face. Goosebumps spread over my body at his statement. The reality of our relationship threatens to crash over me, but his velvety voice pushes it away. “I don't want to leave.”

I want to say 'Then don't leave’, but I know he eventually has to. I just don't know when. Instead of speaking, I grab his face between my two hands and kiss him again. I kiss him until we forget everything. Until the only thing taking up our minds is the undeniable desire for each other.

He enters me suddenly, his length pressing deep into me until his lower belly is pressing against mine. I whine and reach over his shoulders to grab onto him as he lifts me up the wall. He raises my leg up higher and grabs onto my waist for leverage.

He pounds into me relentlessly, our combined moans filling the small bathroom. Within minutes I'm falling apart in his grasp, whimpering his name into his ear as he lays his cheek against my neck.

“Jimin…..I-I’m.”

He leaves my neck to press his head against mine again. “Yes, tell me.” He demands quietly.

“Ah-I…. I'm cumming.”

He groans, a sound that has me curling my toes. “M-me….too.” He says, before throwing his head back.

His grip tightens on my hip as he cums inside of me, his thrusts turning hard and reaching deeper than before. We hold each other under the, now cool, flowing water, not saying a word as our post-orgasm highs dissipate.

I gently pull away from his embrace, despite my body telling me no, to wash up. “We should probably wash now.” I say while soaping up a washcloth.

“We should.” He responds, but stands still, watching quietly as I clean myself. When I reach between my legs he stops me and takes the cloth from my hand to clean me himself. His hand moving between at my center sends gentle pleasure through me again, but thankfully he's done before it becomes too much.

I rinse myself off, very aware of his gaze on me. When I'm done I stand under the stream unmoving, not knowing what to do next. He smirks and starts washing himself with the bar of soap. The cold water sends me into a shivering fit and I rub my arms for warmth.

“Why are you making yourself suffer? Go get warm, I'll be out soon.” He says calmly, after seeing me shake.

I nod and get out of the shower. After drying off and throwing on some lounge pants and a shirt I go search through my fridge to see what I can make for breakfast.

Halfway through preparing food, I realize that this is the first time I've ever made a meal for anyone other than my sister. I've never had a guy stay over either...or had sex with a famous person.

This week has been a week of some crazy firsts.

As I'm placing a piece of bacon in the pan, Jimin walks into the kitchen rubbing a towel through his dark hair. He's shirtless with the black jeans from last night hanging low on his hips. My eyes follow the deep 'V’ on his lower belly until it disappears underneath the thick waistband. Pain shoots up my arm and I pull it away from the stove to rub with my other hand.

He places the towel on the back of one of the dining chairs. “You okay?”

My skin is a little red where the grease popped me, but it's nothing bad. I shake my head, smiling. “Yeah.” I say.

We stare at each other for a few seconds before I remember that I'm cooking and turn to the stove again. I keep getting distracted.

“I'm almost done.” I tell him as he continues to watch me curiously.

“Do you want help?”

“I'm good, but thank you.” I point with the tongs I have in my hand at the dining table. “You can sit down if you want.”

He nods and sits in the chair where he draped the towel over and places his elbows on the table, rests his head in his hands and follows my every move as I finish cooking. His face lights up when I place a full plate of food in front of him. I feel relief at how fast he digs into the food, the fear of him not liking it leaving my mind.

“This is so good.” He says in between bites.

I stop picking at my plate to smile at him. “Really? I'm glad you like it. This is what my mom used to make when I was a kid.”

He finishes everything, even going as far as lifting the plate to his mouth to get the last bits of egg.

“Is your mom from America?”

“She is actually. My dad and her moved back a couple of years ago after me and my sister moved out.”

He wrinkles his eyebrows and I can't help but think how adorable his facial expressions are.

“They left you guys here?” He asks.

“Well, they wanted us to go with them, but we didn't want to. Korea is our home.”

He smiles at that. “I'm glad you stayed.”

I blush, looking down at the table. “Me too.”

I notice him glancing at my plate. “There's more food, do you want some more?” He flashes another smile, briefly fogging my mind as I stare at his beautiful face.

“I would if that's okay. I haven't eaten much lately. Now that shooting is over I can ease up.”

I frown at his words before serving him more. I watch him clear the second plate before speaking. “I wish they weren't so tough on you.” I say.

He looks up at me, his brown eyes shining. “I'm used to it.” He shrugs and downs a glass of water I sit in front of him.

Sighing I take our dishes to the sink and start washing everything. Jimin gets up and comes to stand beside me, grabbing the clean, soapy dish out if my hands to rinse it.

“Let me help you.”

I smile up at him and nod. His hips press against my lower waist, constantly reminding me of how he's basically half baked beside me. I catch a few glances at his abs pressing against the counter whenever he leans forward. The sight mesmerizes me and I unknowingly leave food stuck to dishes a couple of times, which he points out to me each time takes them from my grasp.

“You seem very distracted, Anna.” He looks down at me, catching my lost expression before I can wipe it off of my face. “What are you thinking of?”

I shake my head and hand him the last dish. “Nothing. Just thinking of how dirty these dishes are.” I say, cringing mentally at my lame excuse.

His cute laughter fills my ears.

“You're a bad liar you know.” He touches my waist and beckons with his fingers for me to turn. I give in and let him pull me against his bare chest, in between his slightly spread legs as he rests against the countertop.

“No I'm not.” I pout, knowing full well that I am.

He leans in and presses his full lips to my jaw, teasing me with small kisses up to my ear. “Don't lie to me.” He whispers in my ear.

I shiver in his arms and close my eyes, relishing in the feel of his lips on my skin. His fingers travel up my belly and he grazes his thumbs under the bottom of my bra. I run my hands up his smooth neck and lace my fingers in his long hair, gently pulling his face from my neck so that I can kiss those teasing lips.

Our mouths connect for a moment before the doorbell rings, ruining the moment. We break apart, the both of us groaning in annoyance.

Reluctantly, I leave him standing in the kitchen to see who's at the door. My eyes widen in surprise at the man standing outside my apartment door.

Sporting a loose fitted blue shirt, tucked into black slacks, Kim Namjoon tucks his hands into his pants pockets and bounces anxiously while staring at the welcome mat where his feet rest. His head jerks up when he realizes I've opened the door already. His mouth opens for a few seconds before he speaks.

“Are you Anna?” He asks.

I frown, clearly remembering meeting him at the fan meet last week. I guess he's seen so many faces he forgot mine already.

“Yes..”

“Why did you come, hyung?” Jimin stands just a few feet behind me, now with the shirt from yesterday on, with a grim look on his face. I step aside, putting my back against the front door so that they can see each other.

Namjoon perks up at seeing Jimin. “Jimin, you can't just abandon your duties whenever you feel like it.” He says sternly, an authority in his voice I've never heard before.

Jimin runs his hand through his hair and looks down at his feet. He doesn't respond.

I step back, making room for Namjoon to enter. “Um..come in.” I wave my hand out beside me, as if he's about to enter a grand palace, but instead he enters a shabby cramped two bedroom apartment.

“Thank you.” He says softly to me as he walks through the threshold.

“You can take a seat, I'll get you something to drink.” I put on my grown up act to help ease the awkwardness filling the air.

Grabbing a few sodas from the fridge I head back into the living room where Jimin is now seated on the couch beside Namjoon who is closely examining a ceramic figure of an elephant that usually sits on my coffee table.

“This is all I have.” I place the cans on the glass-top table.

Namjoon jumps when I talk and almost loses grip on the figurine before I hear a faint cracking sound.

The trunk of the elephant lays broken in his palm. “Shit. Um….I'm so sorry. I-I can get you another one. Where did you buy this?” He stammers on nervously. Jimin snickers into his hand beside him.

A smile threatens to take over and I can't resist what comes out of my mouth. “It was a gift to my mother from when she visited India.” I watch as both boys’ eyes widen in shock. l and I swear I see Namjoon’s lips tremble.

“Oh my God, I….I…” he stutters.

I break out into laughter, resisting the silly urge to slap my knee at my own joke. “I'm just kidding! Don't worry, we bought it at the dollar store.”

Jimin doubles over, laughing the hardest I've seen him laugh since meeting him. Warmth fills my chest at seeing him so joyful. Namjoon on the other hand looks slightly annoyed.

“I'm sorry, that was rude of me.” I apologize to him.

“No, no. You got me good.” He finally smiles, dimples making their appearance on his tanned cheeks. “Sorry for showing up so suddenly. It's just that Jimin here, left and decided to only tell one person where he was going.” He turns to Jimin, whose face is far from the joyous one he had just moments before.

“Oh.” I sit down in the armchair perpendicular to the couch.

Jimin holds one of the unopened soda cans in his hands, running his finger along the outside rim, looking like a toddler who was just put in time out. The sight would have made me giggle if it weren't for the ache shrouding my rib cage.

Namjoon breaks the thick silence. “Why didn't you tell me what you were doing?”

Jimin sits up and places the can back on the table. “Because I knew you wouldn't have let me leave if I told you.”

“So you tell Taehyung and not me?”

“Exactly.”

Namjoon places his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. “You know we're supposed to be packing everything to go home today. You knew and you still left.”

My heart drops from its place. They are leaving today? Jimin is leaving.

Jimin looks at me, sadness covering his usually always smiling face. I avoid his eyes and stare at my lap.

“I know, hyung. But this is our last day, I had to.”

Namjoon sighs loudly. “You know that this has to stay secret, right? If the company were to find out…...if our fans were to find out. They'd eat her alive.” I gulp, knowing he's right. The few rumors that had been spread about the members dating shined some light on just how crazy some of the fan base is. I don't want to be attacked like those women were, especially by a fan base I myself am a part of. “If you guys are going to keep this up, you need to be more discreet. Anyone can follow either of you and take pictures. Please remember that.”

Jimin rubs his eyes. “I know.”

Namjoon looks directly at me. “I don't want you to think that I'm against you, because I'm not. I see how how he's been the past few days. We all have. And I support anything that brings him happiness, even if it's considered forbidden. Just, please….please be careful.”

I blink and nod my head fast. The emotions running through me, preventing me from speaking.

“Thank you, hyung.” Jimin says, remnants of shock slowly leaving his face, being replaced my admiration.

Clearing his throat, Namjoon stands up and glances between Jimin and I.

“I'll be in the car waiting, Jimin. Say your goodbyes for now.” He walks towards the door but stops to look at a picture of me and Mina, that sits on the table by the front door. He picks it up and holds it closer to his face. “Is this the girl you went to the fan meet with?”

“Umm yes.”

I swear I see his eyes sparkle. “What's her name again?”

“Mina.” I smirk at his interest in her. She'd probably pass out if she knew. The thought makes me realize just how long it's been since we last talked. I'll have to call her later. “You're her bias.” I throw in mischievously.

His head snaps towards me. “Really?” His amazed expression makes me giggle.

“Yes. You're her main squeeze.” What in the hell did I just say? I need to gain some social skills, yesterday.

He places the picture back down and opens the front door. “Make it quick.” He says, aimed at Jimin.

The door shutting sounds too loud, even though it shut normally. I grow nervous, being alone with Jimin again. Things feel tense.

Standing up I start to walk towards my room. “I'll get your stuff.”

He grabs my arm, as I walk past, and pulls me in front of him. I stand between his spread legs, his head tilted up to gaze at me.

“I'm sorry about all of this.”

If hearts could stop beating and still keep you alive, mine would do it right now. What does he mean? All of what?

“For what?” I ask hesitantly.

“For leaving like this. For not telling you. I thought I would have more time to see you before leaving.”

My chest hurts, literal pain. He's talking as if he's never coming back….as if he's never going to see me again. Panic sets in and sweat breaks out over my skin along with the annoying urge to vomit.

“I only live an hour away, so I can come visit you when I can or you can go visit me. If you want.” I remember to breath. He's not leaving me. “The comeback is in a little over a week and I'll be busy, but I promise to make time for you.” He rests his chin on my belly and gazes up at me, his glittering eyes bigger than ever.

I gaze back at his gorgeous face and feel so much relief. He wants to keep seeing me. I would have felt absolutely broken if he had left and never looked back after the night we just shared together.

The thought crosses my mind that things are moving way too fast, but my heart tells it to shut up. I run my palm up and down his face and look into his eyes until he can't stand it anymore. He grabs onto my wide hips and stands up, pressing his lips into mine bruisingly hard. My mind empties.

“Is that okay?” He asks.

“Hmm?” I question him, hungover from his intoxicating mouth. “Oh! Yes.” I smile and kiss him again but this time it's softer. Grasping the hair at the nape of his neck, I pull him in closer.

Ringing sounds from my room. Jimin grunts into my mouth and pulls away. “That's probably Namjoon.” He says kissing the corner of my mouth.

He gathers his few belongings from my room and walks back into the living room slowly. His hand finds the back of his neck and rubs relentlessly at it. Why is he so cute when he's nervous? Scratch that, why is he always so cute?

Knowing that he wants to stay in touch has me feeling happier than ever. No amount of awkwardness could ruin my mood.

“So…” he draws out. “I'll text you.”

I smile and close the distance between us. “Okay. I'll be waiting.”

He flashes me a knee-weakening smile and kisses me passionately until we're both out of breath before stepping out of the door. But not before waving goodbye like the cute little mochi that he is. 

MASTERLIST

#haylokitteh suite114 jimin parkjimin jiminxoc btsjimin jiminsmut kpopsmut btssmut smut btsfluff jiminfluff btsff btsfanfiction

[pleasurextreasure]

❜Moment in Time (pt. 1/?)

genre: yoongi x reader, angst, fluff, university!au

word count: 3k

warnings: cute reader tbh

prompt: heartbroken yoongi can’t get over an ended relationship. until he meets you does he begin to feel what love is again

a/n: I freaking love Min Yoongi okay  ➵admin kiki

I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.

It’s the only thing that runs through his mind whenever he looks down at the polaroid in his hand. Inside the white bordered frame is a picture of him and her. The him who is in the picture contrasts to the him now. He’s all smiles, striking the dumbest pose topped off with a peace sign high in the air. Her pose is no different. Their outfits are similar, and the two tiny ponytails on his head matches her long, frizzy ones. It was ‘twins’ day’ during their welcoming week of being First Year university students. That was back when times were good. When he was happier, and she was the reason for it.

This picture was well over two years old, yet it was still in good condition, save for the small crinkle at the corner due to it always being carried around in his wallet. He couldn’t find a good enough reason as to why he still has it other than the fact that he missed her. Namjoon says it’s a waste to keep it. But he thinks differently. It was hard for him to throw the memories of her away when there were approximately two years, eight months, and fourteen days that taunted him every day. How could someone so easily forget the one thing that made them feel so full of life and motivated them to keep going?

He catches himself gripping the picture tightly and relaxes his fingers, sighing in the process. He gently tucks the polaroid back into his wallet, into the crevice behind the plastic holder for his license and shoves his wallet back into his pocket. He grabs his phone, pressing the power button to look at the time. He notices a notification from Jimin and unlocks his phone to answer the younger one.

 From: Jimin P

Boys & I are going to

Delta Pi Sigma’s tonight…

You in?

 That’s right, it was Friday. Lately, the days have been blurring by despite his constant knowledge of what the date was. It slipped his mind that another week has ended, and he only had three classes today.

 To: Jimin P

I don’t know.

From: Jimin P

Come onnn, you didn’t party with

us last weekend either :(

To: Jimin P

I have a shit load of

assignments to do. The

semester’s kicking my ass.

From: Jimin P

Don’t lie to me?? Namjoon said you

were up for the past two nights

to finish homework to relax over

the weekend or some shit

 Curse his roommate and his big mouth that he can never keep shut. Despite it being true he was homework-free for the weekend, it didn’t give him an excuse to go out partying. The last party he went to with his friends and roommate ended badly. He woke up hungover with French fries in his shoes and the stench of alcohol stinging his nostrils with its pungent smell. Was it also worth mentioning he awoke in Jimin’s closet, apparently claiming the night before that he refused to ‘get out of the closet’.

His phone buzzes, again.

 From: Jimin P

…Please come?

To: Jimin P What time?

From: Jimin P

:) eight

To: Jimin P

We’ll see.

From: Jimin P

THAT’S MY BOY :’) Tae & I will swing by to grab you and Namjoon after our 5pm.

 He’s about to set his phone back down when he vibrates once more, the message’s preview leaves a bitter after taste in his mouth. He doesn’t bother to reply and drops his phone on his ruffled sheets, bringing himself up off the bed to get ready for his afternoon classes.

 From: Jimin P

You deserve to be

happy, Yoongi.

 ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴

 The History and Art of Rock n’ Roll had to be the most excruciating, time-consuming, and overall boring class Yoongi has had to take in the three years he’s been here at Seoul University. The class was ridiculously easy but was such a drag that most students struggled to stay awake. As he made his way to the back of the room, and began to take his seat, he was interrupted when someone bumped their backpack into him.

Turning around to see what asshole couldn’t watch where they were going, he was mildly surprised to lock gazes with big, round (y/e/c) eyes that were already looking at him.

“I’m so sorry,” you begin, bowing your head in apology. You offer a polite smile, “These seats are too close to the wall, and I have one too many binders in my bag.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but think of how similar this stranger looked like her, and it made his gut wrench in an unknown way. The hand that gripped the back of his chair tightens as he lets out a forced chuckle.

“I was ready to cuss you out,” he jokes, and you laugh at this. His heart stutters at the sound, something that hasn’t happened for far too many months now. “Anyway, no worries.”

You bob your head in a short nod and show him another smile, this one relaxed. “Thank you.” You begin to shuffle away from him without another word and take the chair two seats away. Yoongi takes note of this.

As soon as the digital clock on Yoongi’s laptop screen switches to ‘12:00’, his professor begins his devastating fifty-minute lecture. He spends his time scrolling through the Yamaha website, window-shopping their selection of electric keyboards and various piano styles. Every so often, he’d catch himself glancing to his left where you were seated, his interest piquing with your appearance.

You currently wore glasses, he assumes it’s to see the chicken-scratch handwriting on the whiteboard. Black hair is pulled to the side in a braid and he takes a few seconds to marvel at the braid type.

“It’s a fishtail braid,” she explained, holding the ends of the braid to give him a better view of the folded strands of hair. His fingers had gently run down the length of her hair, impressed at how talented his girlfriend was.

Yoongi forces himself to push away the memory, not wanting to sink into a pool of self-pity.

“Are you alright?” You, now noticing this guy staring rather intently at you, asks, leaning towards him to keep as quiet as possible.

He looks up at you, startled and embarrassed that you caught him in a moment. “Sorry… I, uh, like your hair. It suites you.”

You brighten at the compliment, much to his surprise. He was expecting an unimpressed look and for you to begin to think of him as a weirdo. A smile that made your eyes crinkle at the corners was the last thing he was expecting to receive. “Thank you.”

The conversation came to an end and you went back to listening to the professor. Throughout the rest of the lecture, despite his willfulness, Yoongi couldn’t help but sneak in a few more glances.

 ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴ ∵ ∴

 “Who’s ready to par-tay?” Taehyung’s excitement rumbles throughout the dorm room as he barges in, arms flying into the air and allowing the door to swing back into the wall. Jimin follows close behind, looking unamused by the outburst his roommate was making.

“Started without us, didn’t he?” Namjoon asks, and Jimin helplessly shrugs. The older rolls his eyes and looks over at Yoongi, who is battling to put on one of his black hoodies.

“You’re seriously going to wear that?” Jimin criticizes, crossing his arms over his chest for added effect. “Do you own anything that isn’t fifty shades of black?”

“Shut up,” Yoongi snaps as his head pokes through the hoodie’s hole. “I said I would go but I never said I’d dress up for it. Plus, who the hell am I trying to impress?”

“Yeah, sure, alright.” Jimin nods, refusing to bring himself into an argument he’s found himself in one too many times. It was hard to convince his friend that it was time to move on, to let things go, and move on. It pained him to see Yoongi suffer but it was out of his control on just how much of his help was accepted.

The group of friends depart for the party and soon find themselves walking up the steps of the hosting Fraternity house. After going through the usual ‘What’s the password?’ from one of the rushing members (this week’s party password is cheesy Cheetos), and being accepted into the house, Yoongi finds himself feeling suffocated.

There must be around five people per square foot and he doesn’t think that’s even physically possible. But from the number of grinding, dancing, and walking bodies, he begins to believe it as a possibility. He pulls Taehyung to the side, informing him he’ll be at the back of the house then proceeds to do just that.

He fights his way through the crowd – literally fights his way through because no one knows what ‘excuse me’ stands for anymore. He is finally free from the jungle of flailing limbs and breathes in deeply when he finds a less populated area out on the patio. He allows himself to sink into the cushioned seats of the swinging bench and props his head back, gazing up at the stars.

They used to do this quite often. Mainly at the request of her because she’s loved the stars since she was a little girl and could name almost every one that shone that night. Talking about the night sky and its wonders made her eyes light up brighter than the North Star or any star. Yoongi loved watching the raw passion she bore whenever she talked about or did something she loved.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” The sudden voice makes Yoongi lift his head faster than he anticipates and a sense of rush courses its way through his head. His breath noticeably hitches when he sees the same girl, you, from earlier. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

To his disappoint, your hair wasn’t in the braid you wore earlier, and instead sat atop your head in a bun. He shakes the negative feeling off and offers a grin.

“Two in one day. Are you trying to set a record with me?”

“Who knows,” you tease in return, much to his pleasure. Your sense of humor reminded him of her and Yoongi enjoyed this. You motion to the empty spot beside him, “Would you mind if I sat with you?”

“No, not at all.” He makes the effort of scooting further from the spot and allows you to take the seat beside him.

His fingers are beginning to twitch, wanting to tap against something to calm his nerves. Yoongi wasn’t sure why he was getting worked up over this girl. Deep down, deep within his heart, he wondered if the similarities you bore with his first love is what’s causing all of this. 

He isn’t one to believe in love at first sight. It was a cliché that almost never worked out in the end. Yoongi preferred the kind of love that starts off as friends and gradually evolves into something more. Much like what he had until a few months ago.

“So…” you begin, “do you want to talk about why you looked like you were about to cry? Or is it too personal to tell a stranger?”

He’s taken aback by your brashness, which is something she never had. She had always beat around the bush when it came to questioning things, never directly asking the real question. Yet, he couldn’t help but think that he didn’t not like it. Not wanting to admit to you – and to himself – the reason for his solemnness, Yoongi utters the first thing that comes to his mind.

“I forgot to blink.” He wants to slap himself for how dumb he’s sounded.

“You forgot to… blink?” your head tilts to the side as you questioningly look at him. He dumbly nods, and you snort, “Well, not everyone remembers to. I won’t judge.”

Yoongi’s not sure why he feels a sense of relief at you words. Maybe because there won’t be one extra person out there who thinks he’s weird.

“Anyway!” Your outburst shocks him. “What are you doing out here by yourself? Friends ditch you or something?”

“For your information, I ditched them,” he replies, smoothly.

“Mhm, gotcha. Still kind of boring to be out here alone, don’t you think?”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” He notices the redness in your cheeks begin to deepen. He makes the effort not to put much thought into it. “What were you doing out here by yourself?”

“Same as you, I guess. The friends I came with are party animals and I’m… not.” You bashfully reply, scratching your upper lip as you refuse to make eye contact with him.

“Then why’d you come?” Yoongi internally flinches at how accusing he’s sounded but doesn’t verbally acknowledge it. Instead, he just waits for your response.

“To get out of the dorm, I suppose. Irene says I need to get some fresh air occasionally if I want to stay alive.”

“I see.”  

You two fall silent once your short-lived conversation ends, the duo unable to find words to create a new topic of discussion. Yoongi finds himself gazing down at your hands, noticing the monochromatic polish that your nails adorn and the slight chubbiness of your fingers.

You breathe out a sigh, attracting his attention back to your face. Your head was tilted upwards as a smile graced your thin lips. “Are you a fan of astronomy?”

“Not really, no.”

“Ah, I see.” You’re staring back at him now and Yoongi can’t stop the erratic beat his heart picks up. “You looked really interested in the sky just now, so I thought you were.”

“I took a class back in my first year, though.” he replies. “My… friend and I decided to take it together.”

“Sounded fun.” You muse. “I wish I could take fun classes like astronomy. I’m stuck with those boring ones everyone tries to avoid taking.”

“Well, if the classes are boring, then the major has to be on the same level.” Yoongi teases, taking joy in the fake gasp you give.

“Psychology isn’t as boring as everyone makes it out to be.” You defend, eyebrows furrowing to match your jutting bottom lip. He found the look to almost be cute. “There’s a lot of interesting things you can learn. If you really pay attention to the person, you could tell if they’re lying or telling the truth, for example. How can that be boring?”

“Sounds like a load to me.”

“Oh, really?” You scoff. “Then what do you do, huh? You look like you’re a business major, especially if you’re dragging mine down like this.”

“Music major, actually.” Yoongi corrects, a smug-tone accompanying his words. “My roommate’s in business, though.”

“Whoa, really?” Your previous episode of mock offense diminishes, and you brightly beams. “That’s so cool! Do you sing?”

“No, I’m studying to become a music producer.”

“That’s even cooler!” You clasp your hands together in excitement and Yoongi couldn’t help the smile from forming on his lips. “So, you write your own music then?” He nods in answer. “Wow.”

“It isn’t that interesting.” He meekly shrugs, growing bashful at your compliments.

Your reaction differed from hers. Despite the continuing support he was given by his ex-girlfriend, she was never truly on the same level as him of passion. There were times when she would gently urge him to pick a more practical career path, claiming that music wasn’t for everyone and it was difficult to pursue.

But this reaction he was currently receiving… it was refreshing. Someone other than his friends, was supporting him with his decision. And it was someone he didn’t even know the name of.

“What’s your name?” He found himself asking without a second thought to it. He inwardly screams, scolding himself for acting weird once again.

“(Y/N).” You answer, tone indifferent from the one you’ve been using. “Yours?”

“Yoongi.”

“Cute.” The word is out before you could stop yourself, causing both to grow flustered. “Ah, um… sorry.”

Yoongi says nothing in return, allowing the dismissive wave of his hand be enough of an answer. He currently couldn’t trust his voice because of how embarrassed he grew to be. Before another wave of silence could sweep over, your attention is brought to the screeching of the glass sliding door being pushed open.

“There you are.” Jimin says, his usual cheerful smile on full display. “I couldn’t find you anywhere and was beginning to think you bailed on us.”

“The thought crossed my mind.” Yoongi replies, forcing himself to stand up and leave the comforting aura he was beginning to indulge in. “What’s wrong?”

“So, before you get mad…” his friend nervously chuckles, hand coming to sit on the back of his neck as he looks off to the woodened patio. “Jungkook may or may not have snuck in through some connections and is wasted.”

“Jeon Jungkook?” you question, unknowingly stopping Yoongi’s outburst that was ready to unleash itself. “Isn’t he a freshman?”

“Well, funny story—”

“Where is he?” Yoongi interrupts. “Did one of you at least stay with him?”

“Of course! We’re not that dumb.” Jimin quickly defends as he re-opens the sliding door. “He’s out in the front yard with Namjoon. We figured you’d want to be the one to see him safely home.” He heads back inside, not waiting for Yoongi to follow.

“Ugh, that kid…” he trails off, glancing back at you who looked confused over the situation. “Looks like they need me. I’m sorry.”

“Oh no, go right ahead! Your friend needs you.” The kind smile you offer him is one he doesn’t deserve, not with how abruptly he must leave you and your comforting appearance. “It was nice talking to you, Yoongi. See you Monday?”

He purses his lips together in a polite smile of his own and nods. He slips through the opening and closes the glass door behind him, fingers momentarily squeezing the handle. As he made his way through the overcrowded rooms for a second time, the only thing that crossed his mind was how pretty you looked while smiling.

He wanted to see it again.

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