#no where near as good as lovestruck was

[totallovestrucksimp]

Don’t mind me, just trying to fill the hole they left…

#Episode SUCKS #no where near as good as lovestruck was #the virgin episode #the Chad lovestruck #I should make a meme #lovestruck #lovestruck voltage #queen of theives #vivienne tang #qot mc

[roosterr]

Hi idk if you're accepting requests but I literally just read the amnesia fic, and I was wondering if I could request where reader suddenly remembers everything, and sprints around base trying to find them, and just jumps on them crying and apologizing for forgetting them. Just some really fluffy comfort? It's okay if you don't want to write this lol

the 141 when you have amnesia – p2

note: i have received your therapy bills :)

wc: 5.2k

warnings: still a bit angsty I'm sorry I couldn't resist, fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury and blood, happy endings for all I promise

ao3

[part one]

price

✹ john thought your initial reaction was a good sign. you seemed to be taking things well, considering the extent of your injuries, and it was only a matter of time before your memories returned.

✹ your spirits are high when you're reintroduced to the team, and though you don't remember them either you do say they feel familiar, which he takes as a good sign for your recovery.

✹ when you're finally discharged, he takes you home, to the house that the two of you bought together. he shows you the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls, fondly retelling the stories of each one to you even though you were there, and these are your pictures.

✹ if you notice the way he chokes up when you get to your wedding photos, you don't say anything.

✹ like the true gentleman he is, he insists on sleeping on the sofa and leaving you to take the bed, despite your protests about it being his home too. even though you were receptive, he would never risk making you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed when he was, essentially, a stranger.

✹ in all your years of marriage, he's never slept on the sofa before. the two of you rarely go to bed without each other, apart from the times you're separated by your job, and consequently he finds himself not getting much rest.

✹ you're still on leave while you're physically recovering from being in a coma, so john has to go to work without you every morning, something he also hasn't done since you got married. he wishes he could bring you with him anyway, just to have you near him, but he knows that's selfish and you still need time.

✹ the base is dull without you.

✹ again, he keeps up the appearance that he's okay, and maybe it's a little more true this time now that you're actually awake, but he still feels your absence like a weight on his shoulders.

✹ the other three are pleased amongst themselves about your recovery, gaz and soap constantly asking him how you are; and he knows they mean well, but it's still irritating because how could you be okay? you don't even remember your own husband, nothing about this is okay.

✹ he keeps his grievances to himself though. he's still their captain, he can't afford to fall apart when he still has a job to do.

✹ he's woken up one night by soft footsteps in the living room. his neck aches as his eyes snap open, every sense on high alert until he realises it's just you. a quiet grunt escapes him as he sits up, massaging his sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa.

✹ when the sound of muffled crying reaches his ears, he's immediately on his feet, his heart racing as he shuffles over to where you're standing with a hand covering your mouth.

✹ he presses a hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. you don't look at him, your crying only increasing in volume now you're not worried about waking him.

✹ now that he's right next to you, he sees through the darkness that you're holding one of your wedding photos. it's his favourite picture, the one where he's lifting you with an arm around your waist and you're both gazing into each other's eyes with the most lovestruck expression on your faces.

✹ "i– i know i love you, so wh-why can't i just remember you?" you sputter in between sobs, and you might as well have just ripped his heart out of his chest, because he can't stop the way he breaks down at your words.

✹ john wraps both arms tightly around you, caging you to his chest and nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder while pressing his own tear-stained face into the top of your head.

✹ "it's alright, love–" his voice cracks pitifully, and he's never felt quite as hopeless as he does in this moment. "it'll be alright, you'll remember, i promise…"

✹ he's not sure who he's trying to convince, you or himself as you both sink to the floor in each other's embrace. you stay like that for hours, crying for your lost memory into the early morning.

✹ after that, he can't be bothered to pretend he's okay anymore.

✹ he starts drinking again, shamelessly in the middle of the day and grumbling at gaz and ghost when they wrestle the bottle away from him. he knows you'd disapprove, but the toll of lying to himself and everyone around him has caught up. all he wanted was his partner back, the love of his life, you.

✹ the others try to knock some sense into him, but talking to him becomes like going back and forth with a brick wall. gaz even gets kate on the phone to yell at him, but nothing seems to get through. he orders them to leave him alone, stop asking about you, and it really feels like he's lost hope.

✹ it goes on like this for a week straight, nearly a full month since you first woke up.

✹ and then one boring afternoon, there's a commotion outside his office. john hears cheers and shouts from down the corridor, but he can't bring himself to care enough to investigate.

✹ he's not in the mood to celebrate whatever it is they're cheering about anyway.

✹ john's just about to stand and yell at them to shut up, but then you're suddenly standing at his door, slamming it behind you as you rush over to his desk. his face must be the picture of surprise as he swivels in his chair to follow you as you approach, opening his legs for you to stand between them.

✹ his breath catches in his throat as you cup his face, your touch so tender it has his heart hammering against his sternum like the very first time you touched him all those years ago. he plants his hands firmly on your hips, too afraid of getting his hopes up to say a single word as he watches you get closer.

✹ your face hovers just above his, warm breath fanning over his face as you inch ever closer. he sees your eyes glistening before they flutter shut, brushing your lips against his with an anticipation that has his skin tingling.

✹ when you pull away, his eyes stay closed, but he can hear the smile in your voice when you whisper,

✹ "i remember you now."

✹ his heart might’ve actually stopped at your words, surprise shooting through him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes snap open.

✹ in a second, he's lifting you by the waist and dropping you onto his desk, uncaring for the various papers that he brushes out of the way to make room for you.

✹ he can't stop the overjoyed laugh that rumbles in his chest now he's the one standing between your legs, gripping your face and pushing his lips back against your with all the passion he's been bottling up during your recovery.

✹ you smile into the kiss too, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. it feels like a weight has lifted, something heavy in the back of his mind finally dissipating and allowing him to relax into your hold.

✹ the two of you break away after a moment, keeping him close to you as you press your forehead to his. "i'm sorry that i ever forgot you."

✹ "i can think of a way you can make it up to me, love…"

gaz

✹ you're so apologetic about your amnesia, it breaks his heart all over again. what's worse is that he has no idea what to do; he doesn't want to try and force you to remember, that would just stress you out more, but he wants you to remember him so desperately he feels it ache in his bones.

✹ in the end, he decides to just let things play out. he wants you to recover at your own pace, and not just because of him and how he feels about you.

✹ he also doesn't say a word about your relationship, but with how he initially reacted, he's sure you got the idea. you don't mention it either, which admittedly hurts a little, but he's sure the confusion of waking up to having a boyfriend who's name you don't even know is worse than how he feels about it.

✹ kyle vows to take care of you the moment you're discharged. he takes you to your room, shows you where everything is, makes sure you know where he is should you ever need anything, and he even introduces you to the others again.

✹ you still remember your job and how to do it so, once you're physically well enough, you get right back to it. they carry on as normal, the rest of the taskforce – assimilating you back into their nights of drinking and fucking around as if you'd never left.

✹ kyle still doesn't feel right about it.

✹ he doesn't want to treat you like glass, because you're exactly the same as when he first met you. you're still quick-witted, stubborn, and one of the toughest people he knows, you just… don't know him.

✹ it kills him on the inside, but he stays strong for you; the last thing he wants is to become the mess of a man he was when you were out, he doesn't want you to see him like that. he sorely misses spending his nights with you, and talking endlessly about your days to each other. he sends you longing glances every time you look away, wondering if you'd ever feel the same again.

✹ if you can go back to living normally, why can't he?

✹ but as the weeks go by, kyle notices how you start to withdraw, the loneliness that blocks out the light in your eyes that he loves so much. you fade into the background of conversations, sticking to listening rather than engaging.

✹ you watch them from afar, and he still knows you well enough to know what's going through your head. feeling somehow like you belong and also like an outsider at the same time, wishing you could understand the inside jokes you were a part of.

✹ he wishes more than anything that there was something he could do – make you understand that you're wanted, and you're a valuable part of the team even without your memories, but any time he brings it up you simply brush him off with that far away look in your eyes.

✹ three weeks go by before anything changes.

✹ it's the first time in a while they finally have an afternoon off, so of course they decide to spend it playing football on one of the fields within the bounds of the base. soap and ghost on one team, gaz and the captain on the other, with you spectating and keeping score on the sidelines. 

✹ kyle offered to sit out if you wanted to play, but you'd brushed him off with the excuse of wanting to rest and read your book, laying out your jacket on the grass to sit on.

✹ he could tell you weren't all there, but he didn't know how to help you; so he just reassured you that you could call him over if you needed anything, and left you to guard his own jacket and water bottle before running off to join the game.

✹ the whole time he was sprinting around the field, he couldn't stop looking over to you over by the sidelines. he wasn't with it, he hadn't been since you woke up, really, and the others could tell.

✹ price abruptly calls half-time, clapping gaz on the shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "just talk to 'em, before it eats you alive." he chides, pushing him in your direction before he can think to protest.

✹ with a deep sigh and a glace backwards to the others, who shoo him away without a word, he jogs over to where you're sitting. the way the late afternoon sun hits you just right stops kyle dead in his tracks when he catches how it glows in your eyes. he feels a pull in his chest as he approaches you.

✹ you look up from your book as his shadow reaches you, shooting him a tiny smile as he drops himself next to you. he takes a swig from his water bottle as he catches his breath, extremely conscious of the way your teammates are pretending not to watch him while he comes up with the words.

✹ "so, who's winning then?" you ask, turning so you're facing him. he sees how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.

✹ "aren't you supposed to be keepin' score?" kyle chuckles, shifting slightly closer to you as you look away with a bashful expression. he allows your hands to brush, wanting nothing more than to lock your fingers together.

✹ "i'm not really paying attention."

✹ there's a beat of silence and that helpless feeling is back as he watches you look back out to the field, where the others are still kicking the ball back and forth.

✹ "how you doin'?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he leans in even closer to you. your mouth opens to respond, that slightly off smile back on your face, but before you can he places his hand fully over yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "actually."

✹ you sigh, heavy and tired, and bring your gaze back over to his. "it's… hard." you begin, your eyes betraying the internal struggle. "and i'm… i know, before, we were–"

✹ he blinks and you're being sent over backwards by a football flying into your face with a smack that makes kyle's ears ring.

✹ immediately he's crouching over you, helping you sit back up and pressing the sleeve of his jacket to your nose, uncaring for the blood that stains it.

✹ "you alright?" he murmurs, gently holding your face as he inspects your nose. you nod, wincing at the movement, and take the sleeve of his jacket from him.

✹ once he's sure you're okay, his vision turns red with anger. it's pretty obvious who kicked the ball when he whips around to see soap kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.

✹ "oi!" kyle shouts, sending him a deadly glare as he gets up. "soap, what the fuck!"

✹ the man in question looks up from his hands, an incredibly guilty look on his face. "i'm sorry pal! i dinnae ken what happened!"

✹ "just piss off, you prick!"

✹ kyle looks back to you, crouching down again with a concerned frown; but you're already looking at him, the silhouette of his own form reflected in your wide eyes. your nose is still dripping blood, but you drop his jacket and your hands to your lap anyway, mouth agape as you stare back at him.

✹ "what's wrong? are you–"

✹ you cut him off by tackling him to the ground with your arms around his neck, squeezing a surprised 'oof' from him as you land on top of his chest. one of his hands flies to your waist to steady you, the other carefully cradling your head.

✹ "i remember!" you cry, an elated laugh bubbling up as fresh tears wet your cheeks.

✹ kyle lets out a relieved laugh of his own, craning his neck to plant his lips firmly on yours with an infectious grin. in the background the others groan at the display of affection, but neither of you pay them any mind.

✹ eventually the two of you pull away, a wide smile still plastered on both of your faces as you get up from the grass. he pulls you in with the hand that still hasn't moved from your waist and leans to whisper in your ear,

✹ "fancy kickin' soap's arse?"

✹ "you read my mind."

soap

✹ johnny's enthusiastic with your recovery. anyone could've guessed that from the moment you woke up he'd be doting, eager to help you in any way you could need.

✹ yes, you didn't remember him, but be was just so ecstatic that you were okay – apart from the amnesia – that he couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed about it. you'd get your memories back soon enough, and then everything would go right back to the way it was.

✹ sometimes he gets a little carried away, forgets that while you are technically in a relationship, he's not much more than a stranger to you right now. more than once you end up having to ask him for some space because he's so incredibly touchy, and you're not sure how to handle it.

✹ you also request a temporary room to sleep in while you recover, separate from him. johnny's not sure how he feels about it.

✹ he feels that sinking feeling in his chest whenever you push him back with a hand on his chest, a polite smile tugging at your lips. it's disheartening, but he tries not to let it get to him. you'll remember soon, and then this will all be in the past.

✹ maybe you'll even laugh about it, how you could ever forget your wonderful boyfriend.

✹ he takes it upon himself to read up on amnesia, so he can better understand how to help you in any way you might need. once he learns that exposure to memories that you've lost can help your recovery, he eagerly convinces you to let him show you places that have meaning to you and your relationship with him.

✹ you agree, and he didn't actually need to do much convincing because you seem just as interested in the idea as him. he knocks on your door the following evening, offering you a single rose before whisking you away with a charming smile.

✹ he takes you on your first date all over again, with the same level of enthusiasm as before. he treats you to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant, telling you all about how the two of you got together in the first place, and memories you have together. he even orders you dessert, recalling with a chuckle how he accidentally guessed your favourite on your actual first date.

✹ once you both finish eating, he guides you by the hand to the canal for the second half of the date, a romantic moonlit stroll by the water. he pulls you close with an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes with a fond smile and a blush dusting his cheeks.

✹ "hold on…" you mutter, a pensive expression taking over your face as you stop walking. you turn to gaze at the water, seemingly working something out in your mind. "this… this is where gaz fell into the river that one time, right?"

✹ johnny's heart misses a beat, his eyes lighting up with renewed, excited hope as he grins at you. "you remember?"

✹ "a little, yeah," you smile, dropping your gaze and hands from his with a sorry scratch at the back of your neck. "the rest is still blank, though…"

✹ his smile falters, but he's quick to make sure you don't see his disappointment by pulling you into a reassuring hug. "that's still somethin'! you'll be good as new in nae time!"

✹ the next morning, he finds you and gaz in the rec room on one of the couches, talking animatedly with each other. that familiar shine is in your eyes, the sight johnny's been missing for the last few months. it makes his heart feel light, finally seeing you acting like your normal self again after so long.

✹ he approaches you both, watching you fondly as you talk and laugh with gaz, but his good mood is soured when you only briefly acknowledge his arrival when he sits down across from you, before resuming your conversation with gaz. his brow twitches downwards.

✹ gaz is one of your closest friends, and he’s glad you remembered him. he's happy that you got part of your memory back, even if it wasn't a part that included him.

✹ this was a good thing. you'd remember him soon, he was sure of it.

✹ a few more days pass until anything else notable happens. while you were in the gym together, you told him you felt a headache coming on, so he offered to walk you to the infirmary for some painkillers. the casual conversation you made on the way wouldn't have bothered him before, but he just couldn't shake the image of you and gaz being so comfortable, while he's still stuck on the outside.

✹ he doesn't say anything though. making you feel bad about it won't solve anything, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, he knows you wouldn't do that to him. you were just excited to have a familiar face, that's all.

✹ while you're waiting for the medic on call, your head suddenly snaps to attention and you get that same pensive look on your face as that night by the river.

✹ "you got something?" johnny asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your upper back. he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help the way his heart flutters with optimism.

✹ you nod, a smile growing on your features. "i remember that time lt. dislocated my shoulder, and price basically forced him apologise to me," you laugh, thankfully facing away from johnny as his lips turn downwards, "god, he was pissed, it was honestly kinda funny."

✹ "what, uhm…" he lightly clears his throat, hoping you don't hear the dejection in his voice, "what about me?"

✹ you meet his eyes again with an apologetic shake of your head. "i'm sorry, soap…"

✹ "yer fine, it's–" he swallows thickly, waving you off with an exaggerated smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "this is good, it's progress."

✹ since then, he's given you more space. it's clear to him that his efforts aren't helping you remember him, it actually feels like it's having the opposite effect. of course, he's glad you remember your friends, but you still don't remember him – your own boyfriend.

✹ it's wrong, and he knows it is, but he's jealous.

✹ he has to watch you carry on like usual, without him. you haven't set foot in the room you used to share together since before you were comatose. he's done his best to disguise how much it hurts, but it still annoys him how no one else seems to notice how wrong it all is. the others don't need you like he does, they don't lay awake at night going over every moment, treasuring the time you called him yours, yearning with every fibre of his being to go back.

✹ it's been a month and a half since you woke up, six weeks of being so close yet so unbearably far from you. he prays to any god that will listen to bring you back to him, allow him to hold you in his arms once more, but nothing ever changes.

✹ the thread he's been hanging on by ever since you went down on that mission gone wrong is one more bad day away from snapping.

✹ he's approached by gaz one morning, while waiting for the others to begin training, who takes it upon himself to ask johnny about how you're recovering. when gaz teases him about how he was the first person you remembered, and johnny thinks he might just strangle him.

✹ "careful, soap, i might steal 'em away," gaz laughs, patting his shoulder with a camaraderie soap scoffs at.

✹ "shut the fuck up." he snarls, his face bunched in a strikingly out of character scowl. his hands twitch at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms.

✹ gaz blinks, his eyebrows shooting up, clearly taken aback by the hostility from his friend. "alright, i was only jokin', mate."

✹ "aye, well, i'm nae laughin'."

✹ the tension is stifling. he can tell gaz wants to say something more, but he holds his tongue – too worried about upsetting soap any further.

✹ they stand in silence with each other like that for a while, gaz watching him from the corner of his eye while he keeps his gaze firmly on the grass below him.

✹ thankfully, after not too long the uneasy atmosphere is interrupted by a shout from the direction of the building, "johnny!"

✹ his head snaps to attention to see you, grinning uncontrollably and sprinting towards him at full speed.

✹ "wha–" he's caught off guard by how you leap into his arms, hooking your arms around his neck as he stumbles backwards in surprise.

✹ before he has time to question your actions, you're smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss that has johnny's head spinning. he wastes no time in reciprocating, securing one arm around your waist and bringing the other to the back of your head, using it you press you impossibly closer to him as he groans into your mouth.

✹ you reluctantly pull away, just enough to take a shaky breath, but johnny's had stays put on the back of your head. "i'm sorry i forgot, i'm sorry…" you mumble against his lips, dragging your fingers through the unkempt hair of his mohawk.

✹ he drops his head into the juncture of you neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of you that he's gone so long without. he laughs into you, slightly delirious and just so overjoyed to have you in his arms again that feels his eyes sting with tears.

✹ "i've missed you, bonnie," he chuckles wetly, pressing his lips back to yours in another desperate kiss, "i've missed you so much,"

✹ "i'll never forget you again."

ghost

✹ he avoids you like the plague.

✹ or he tries to, at least. but truth be told, after spending so much time learning to be vulnerable around you and allowing you into his guarded heart, it's difficult to go back to being a stranger to you.

✹ that, and he doesn't actually want to.

✹ but he needs to. being around you, the love of his life, knowing that you don't remember him, it's like a knife stuck between his ribs. any time he's in the same room as you he finds himself fighting the urge to grab your hand, or press his forehead against you.

✹ he knows you don't want him anymore, the last thing you deserve is a giant of a man – who you're clearly afraid of, even if you won't say it – hanging around you like a shadow.

✹ you're still kind to him, because of course you are, checking in on him and trying to talk to him any opportunity you get. it's nice, sometimes he can even pretend everything is normal when he shares a laugh with you, but then he sees the hesitance in your eyes and he's brought back to the cold reality of the situation.

✹ the weeks drag like this, every fleeting look from you another bleeding wound on his heart.

✹ he keeps it together surprisingly well, all things considered, but the breaking point comes when you find him having a smoke one night, on a bench just outside the barracks.

✹ "simon?" your voice cuts through the silence, his eyes snapping to you as you sit down next to him. he takes another long drag from his cigarette as he watches you, uncertainty in your voice as you continue, "can you tell me about… me? and us?"

✹ no matter how much he thinks he should, he can't look away from your pleading gaze.

✹ "we… you're everything to me," simon mutters, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with the heel of his boot, "i've never felt the way i do with you before, you've helped me more than you could ever know…"

✹ his vision blurs with unshed tears. the sadness on your face starts and ache in his heart, the desire to take you into his arms and just hold you making his skin bristle.

✹ "you don't have to feel the same way, but…" he pulls the balaclava from his head, setting it on the bench in the space between you, bearing his face to you like he always does, "even if you never get your memory back, i'll always love you."

✹ the way you look at him makes it so incredibly difficult not to cry. your eyes are glassy and far away, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth with an expression that screams guilt – but it's not your fault, and he'd never blame you.

✹ you open your mouth to say something, but the words never materialise. the night stays silent, and simon expects it, but it still makes his bones ache with a heaviness that he knows he can't shake.

✹ he stands, picking up his balaclava, and walks quietly past you to the barracks door. there's no fleeting look, not this time. he disappears to his room without another word.

✹ he's not sure how much later it is when he hears a knock on his door. minutes, hours, it didn't matter. it all blends together now.

✹ when he doesn't bother to answer, whoever it is lets themselves in, shutting the door gently behind themselves. he sits up with the intention of chewing them out, but when he opens his eyes they land on your form, curled in on yourself and shuffling quickly over to him.

✹ you're here, in his room, with a face that looks like you've been crying for hours, puffy and tear-stained with bloodshot eyes.

✹ he almost thinks he's dreaming, but the warmth as you wrap your arms around him and bring his face to your chest is too real, too familiar. he brings his arms up  around your waist, releasing a shaky sigh into your skin as he squeezes you tighter against him.

✹ a few hot tears meet the top of his head as you whisper to him the words he's been waiting, longing to hear, rocking gently from side to side.

✹ "i remember, si."

✹ it feels like he can finally rest, like the state of being he's been living in for the last few months melts away with your touch and he feels safe again.

✹ with his grip around your waist, he hoists you onto his bed to lay back down with him, holding you tightly against his chest, your heart right beside his own racing one.

✹ you cradle his face again, pressing your lips to his face over and over, touching every inch of him with your love.

✹ "i'm sorry…" you whisper like a mantra, punctuating every kiss with an apology that makes his throat constrict with the raw emotion he feels. "i'm sorry,"

✹ "don't be…" he mirrors how you hold his face, tangling his legs with yours as he captures your mouth and pours every ounce of passion he has into the way he kisses you. "don't be, love."

#captain john price x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #141 x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #captain price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #roosterr writes

[moonstruckme]

hey lovely! I was wondering if I could request a remus or poly! marauders where the boys (or just remus) are keeping his werewolf thing a secret from whimsical!reader bc remus is scared she’ll be scared of him, but she secretly already knows. I feel like she’d just KNOW(you know? lol) and one day hints that she does to Remus saying that it’s going to be a full moon soon as like a warning or something and he and the boys kinda look at her like….what does she mean by that? lol idk I hope that makes sense.

Thanks for requesting sweetheart <3

poly!marauders x whimsical!reader ♡ 1k words

They’re all always on edge as the full moon grows closer, but James thinks Sirius might be faring the worst. Two days out, he won’t let Remus so much as make his own tea, and when you’re still not home a couple of hours after you’re supposed to be, James has to talk him down from calling the police. 

Now, Remus is comforting him, though neither of them will admit it, the ailing boy’s arms banded securely around Sirius’ midsection where they lie on the couch. Every now and again, Sirius turns his head to kiss Remus’ chin as if to make up for it. James watches them both from the kitchen, wondering if he could get away with slipping some of the anti-anxiety tea you got Remus into Sirius’ brew. 

When they hear your key in the front door, he thinks he hears a relieved sigh go up from the couch. 

“Hi, angel.” James arrests you at the door, beckoning you into the kitchen. “Been missing you.” 

“Hey Jamie.” You set a couple of bags on the counter, letting him pull you in by the waist for a kiss. “Whatcha making?” 

“Lentil soup,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close. “Be extra nice to Sirius,” he whispers near your ear. “He’s been worrying himself crazy about you.” 

You pull back to look at him, lips parting bemusedly, but James just pecks you on the side of your head. “Go,” he urges. 

You do as he says, padding over to the couch. “Hi, Siri,” you say, kneeling by the couch. “How’s your—day been?” Your words become muffled halfway through when Sirius wraps his arms around you, pressing your face to his shoulder despite the awkward angle. 

“Where the hell have you been?” he asks, worry inlaid with fondness. Remus’ hand migrates to the dip of his waist, pacifying. “You didn’t leave a note or anything.” 

“Sorry,” you say, slipping free of his grip so you can see him. Your fingers find a piece of his hair, running the satiny tress through your fingers distractedly. “I didn’t expect to be so long, but I couldn’t find Remus’ chocolate anywhere. I think it must be the holiday.” 

Sirius pauses. 

“You were gone all that time getting the chocolate Rem likes?” James asks. He peers inside the bag you’ve left on the counter, and sure enough—bags and bags of it, enough to last for months. 

“Mhm, I had to go to six stores. I saw you were getting low,” you say, now to Remus, “and I thought you might be wanting it.” 

James lowers the heat on his soup, setting a lid on the pot so he can join you all in the living room. Remus’ expression is wavering somewhere between guilty and lovestruck. Sirius looks plainly besotted.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” Remus says, reaching over Sirius to stroke at your cheek. “Thanks, dove.” 

You lean into his touch, cheeks dimpling. “It’s no problem,” you promise. Sirius has a look on his face like he wants to eat you. James feels similarly. “Oh,” you say abruptly, “I set up my diffuser in the bedroom earlier, but since it looks like you’re going to be out here for a while, would you mind if I brought it out?”

Remus’ eyebrows twitch towards each other. “Course not. But what did you have it in my room for?” 

“I put some rosemary oil in it.” You get up, aiming for the bedroom. “I thought it might be good for your headaches.” 

When you return, Sirius apparently decides he can’t contain himself any longer. He sits up on the couch, opening his arms for a proper hug. You set up the diffuser hastily and go to them, letting him squeeze the life out of you without complaint. Your eyes slip closed. 

“Sorry I scared you,” you say softly. 

“You’re forgiven.” Sirius stamps a kiss on the side of your head, rubbing your back roughly. “You’re pretty hard to stay mad at, you know that?”

“That’s the goal,” you reply breezily. James laughs. 

“How’d you know I had a headache today?” Remus asks, watching you and Sirius amusedly. 

You hum into Sirius’ shoulder, not opening your eyes. “Well, it’s only two days until the full moon.” 

Remus goes shock still. So does Sirius, cutting a look James’ way over your shoulder. What the hell is that supposed to mean? 

James shakes his head, shrugging. He hasn’t let anything slip, though he does think it’d be easier if you knew. He and Sirius have tried to coax Remus into telling you a few times now, but the other boy is obstinate. He’s been spurned too much in his life to willingly open himself up to the possibility of it, even if they all know you could never be afraid of him. He’s just not ready yet. 

Still, James thinks sitting here in petrified silence is as likely to give him away as anything else. 

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” James asks you. 

“Mm, nothing,” you hum blissfully, seemingly too content in Sirius’ hold to think about much else. He thinks he can hear Remus’ breath shake a bit on the way out. 

“Right,” James says. “Would you mind helping me in the kitchen for a bit? I could use someone chopping while I stir, or the other way around.” 

“Sure.” You open your eyes, gently easing yourself from Sirius’ clutches. The raven-haired boy eyes you curiously as you go, quirking an eyebrow at James like What do you think she’s on about? James can only shrug again, putting a hand on the small of your back while he follows you into the kitchen. 

As he goes by, he looks again in the bags you’ve brought home. 

“Angel, why did you buy so many bandages?” 

You shrug, taking up a paring knife and beginning to chop celery with careful, even strokes. “We were running out of those, too. Usually you and Siri are more on top of this stuff, but I figured it’s time I started pitching in. I know it’s a difficult time of the month.” 

There’s a dull slapping sound from the couch, and James looks over to see Sirius with one hand covering his mouth, the other stroking soothingly at Remus’ hair. 

“Right.” James swallows. He glances back at you, but you’re just chopping celery, placid as can be. “Thanks for, uh, taking up the mantle.” 

You toss him an easy smile. “Anytime.”

#poly!marauders #whimsical!reader #poly!marauders x whimsical!reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders blurb #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders era #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #marauders x reader #hp marauders

[miupow]

[ 7:45 pm ] - c. seungcheol

── ★ [ 💭 ] NSFW, MDNI! pure smut, dom!cheol, sub!fem!reader, oral (f. rec), voyeurism + exhibitionism, jeonghan and joshua mention, nasty nasty filth. 700 words

based on a request from my beloved @the-quiet-nerd-guy ♡

“cheol, the door—!” you gasp, hand desperately grasping seungcheol’s hair as he nuzzled your breasts. he blinks his pretty brown eyes up at you, gaze soft as a caress, so lovestruck and innocent for his dirty actions; tired of your teasing, in a second he had pulled you through the door and folded in half on the mattress, his thick arms caging you flush against his chest and his rough hands quick in tearing you out of your clothes. with your body bare and your legs slung over his shoulders, seungcheol presses wet kisses across the flushed peaks of your tits, pink tongue peaking out to tease at your puffy nipples before skating across your hot skin. you tangle your fingers in the hairs at the base of his neck, whimpering desperately as he begins to mark his way down your chest and tummy with pretty purple bruises.

in his rush to get you alone seungcheol had left the door wide open, soft light from the living room shining and illuminating your figures. it was something he was often guilty of, and something you normally wouldn’t mind, but jeonghan and joshua sat just feet away on the couch, blissfully unaware of where seungcheol had dragged you off to and for why. you could hear their muffled voices chatting amongst themselves, too low to understand, and a surprisingly delicious thrill runs hot in your belly from the mischievous smirk seungcheol gives you in response to your whining.

“what about the door, honey?” he croons, deep voice dripping with poisonous honey. One of his big calloused hands sears a path down your trembling stomach to the soft swell of your hips, his pouty lips hot and heavy as they make their way down below your navel. his kisses were always overflowing with a tantalizing possessiveness, a sense of worship that overwhelmed you in the best way. you couldn’t control your pathetic keen of pleasure, tugging urgently at his hair as you throw your head back against the pillows— you desperately wanted to keep quiet, but it was impossible with how seungcheol so effortlessly flooded your body with red hot desire.

“cheol,” you cry out again, your rushed whispers squeaky and broken with arousal. “close the door, they’ll hear—!”

“and i what if i want them to?” seungcheol cuts you off, his head finally dipping down to nose at your soaking cunt, ghost the plush of his lips against your swollen clit. “want them to hear how good i give it to you… you’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? other men listening in on you getting fucked?”

seungcheol’s confession shoots through you like a shockwave, leaves your thighs trembling and your chest heaving— you had not an inkling of an idea that your sweet, gentle and protective boyfriend had such a nasty mind, would ever entertain even the thought of other men in witness to your pleasure… but the idea awakens an all-consuming fire in your belly, one that heats up your skin and drenches your core. “cheol—“ you cry out again, breathless and begging, your thoughts too fragmented to utter anything else except his name.

the long thick fingers that had been caressing over your hip slides down to rub sweet circles against your weeping clit, tease down between your folds to collect your dripping slick. “fuck, i knew you were a slut,” seungcheol hisses, dirty words juxtaposing his loving smile. “would you want them to watch, too? want them to watch you get treated like a whore?” he roughly kisses your clit, slips two of his fingers into your throbbing pussy. your walls clench around them instantly, the stretch nowhere near enough for the rising arousal clouding your senses. “my whore. all mine. let’s let them hear you scream for me, honey.”

his tongue meets his fingers fucking into your messy hole, the wet noises clashing with the ringing in your ears; you wail for release, your hand not tangled in seungcheol’s hair grasping at the bedsheets as your boyfriend begins to eat you out in earnest. you distantly hear the floorboards creak, adjacent to footsteps, and a sickeningly large part of you hopes that it’s jeonghan and joshua.

#ɱเµρσω𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ౨ৎ #lia’s hard hours 🔥 #seventeen x reader #seventeen hard thoughts #seventeen hard hours #seventeen smut #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol hard hours #seungcheol hard thoughts #seungcheol smut #📥.requests #📥: sky!! 🌌

[shroomdreams]

graargagrggegagaga sharingbmy brainrot about dilf!childe because this mf has me in a chokehold!!! ( tagging @q1ngqve since she's the one who planted dilf!childe in my brain )

i wrote all of this in my notes app thats how unhinged this got

cw: childe being mean, degradation, rough s/ex, p in v, creampie, afab!reader, mating press, fingering, dilf!childe, implied age gap (childe is in his early 40s in this one), power dynamics (you're his personal maid), usage of petnames

imagine being hired as his personal maid. your tasks are relatively simple: keep his home clean, cook him meals, keep track of his letters, do the laundry, so on and so forth. childe's family immediately took a liking to you, as you're an agreeable, hardworking lady. they treat you like their own instead of just being childe's maid. childe however seems entirely indifferent, if amicable to you- he is in no means a bad boss! he just has his duties to attend to, so he can't afford to spend that much time with you. you personally don't mind since it means he can't be around to witness just how much of a lovestruck fool you are when it comes to all things childe.

what you don't realize is that childe thinks about you ever since he hired you as a maid. he fantasizes about how he would take you for himself, how he might tear off that uniform of yours so he can have full acess to your body. childe swears that one day he'll have you warming his bed, he just needs to hold out for just a little bit longer...

one day, while childe is out on business, you happen upon one of his shirts. though you're supposed to wash it for childe to wear later, you can't help but hold it close to you, inhaling the master's scent. it wouldn't hurt to indulge just for once, right? and the lord harbinger wouldn't be back for a while- you can wash off the evidence later. so you find yourself on childe's bed, reaching between your legs while burying your face in his shirt, pretending that he's the one playing with your clit.

meanwhile, childe makes it home earlier than scheduled- he's an experienced man after all. but something is amiss, where is his cute little maid? that's when he hears noises coming from his bedroom, noises that sound suspiciously like his maid. he stays silent as he peers inside, watching as you pleasure yourself while holding onto his shirt. childe restrains himself from kicking open the door and ramming himself into your cunt- he has to punish you first.

you don't realize what's happening at first. one moment you were busy pleasuring yourself, next you find your hands tied above your head with childe's shirt. he sinisterly grins. "so this is what you've been doing while i was gone? such insolence. to think my maid has the guts to do such a lewd act." you cry out as he plunges his fingers in your leaking hole, moaning as he easily bullies your sweet spot.

"such a naughty thing- you're already soaked. you missed your master this much?" childe cooed into your ear, letting out breathy chuckles as he kept pumping his fingers, gathering your slick. but he doesn't let you cum just yet, pulling out his fingers. you gasp, panting as you feel your release dying down while childe rubs your slick between his fingers before hovering them near your mouth. "open wide." your mouth obediently falls open, moaning when childe forces you to taste yourself, sucking on his fingers.

"good, you can still follow instructions. if you'll be good, i'll make you cum. can you promise me that, sweetie?" childe hums, though he keeps his fingers inside your mouth. you can only moan in response. he smiles, removing his fingers. there was barely a moment of respite before childe places his hand at the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss.

his lips barely relent in their attack, not allowing for a breath of air as he forced his tongue inside, groaning when he felt your own entangling with his. meanwhile, his hands waste no time, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants. your breath hitches when you feel his cock sliding between your wet folds, whimpering when his tip catches your clit.

"m-master-"

"none of that, sweetie," childe shushes, pushing your thighs to your chest, fulling exposing your throbbing cunt for him to admire. he feels himself salivate, both at the sensation of your warmth slicking up his shaft and at your lewd expression.

he leans down, laving your neck in kisses as he positions the tip of his dick to your entrance. you gasp, feeling childe slowly rolling his hips and pushing the tip inside. "call me childe. if you can do that- mph- i'll make you cum. can you do that, angel?"

you didn't have enough time to respond before you felt the tip of childe's cock enter your cunny, crying out as you thrashed about. "childe! ah!" you were so wet childe didn't have much trouble in stuffing the rest of his rod inside you, groaning as he felt your warmth pulse and squeeze around him until he bottoms out. he pants, nearly cumming on the spot.

"chiiilde- oh! it's too much..." you whimpered, your body quivering as he rolled his hips, stirring your insides with ease. you sobbed as he drew back, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls before thrusting back in, hitting your pleasure spots with ease. "childe!"

"there you go, you're being such a good little girl for me!" childe shakily laughs, pinching your cheeks as he drew his hips back again, grinning when you yelped as he slammed his hips into yours. his dull, sapphire eyes seem to sparkle when he feels your cunt pulsing around him, groaning as he ground himself deep inside. "hah- i can feel you trying to milk me down there. you've been waiting for this for a long time, haven't you?" childe asks, his voice oozing with condescension as he began a quick pace, his hips smacking against yours as your pussy gushes around his cock.

your moans are like a sweet symphony to his ears as you loop your arms around his neck, shrieking when he pulled his hips back all the way before plunging deep inside. "shit-" childe rasped, as he felt your hole tighten around his cock. tears fill your eyes, crying out his name as your legs trembled from the stimulation.

"did you just cum from that?" you tried to shake your head no, but it isn't long before childe began brutally thrusting in and out of your sensitive cunt. you don't hear the lewd moans and screams coming out from your mouth, drool and tears mingling together as childe keeps pace, driving his cock deep as he groans.

"you- hng! you little minx! you planned this all along, didn't you? ugh-" childe gasped out, his member throbbing as he dutifully rubs the walls of your cunt, reaching down to rub tight circles on your clit. you cry out in alarm, feeling another orgasm fast approaching. "lusting after an older man- how delightfully lewd. haah-" a mad grin graces his features as he starts chasing his high. "maybe i should keep you all to myself and make you my personal cocksleeve! you'd like that, don't you sweetie?"

you don't hear yourself agreeing with childe, mind numb and focusing only on how deep his cock is. his thrusts become even rougher and sloppy, before childe lets out a large groan as he ground his hips super close to yours, shooting his cum deep inside. you come at the same time, wailing as your pussy milked his dick, tears streaming down your face.

childe huffs, pumping his hips a few times before reluctantly removing himself from your cunt, his chest rising and falling as he watches his seed leak from your hole. meanwhile you lay against the bed with a blissed out expression, trying to steady your breathing. you almost flinch when childe leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, wiping away your tears. "good girl~" he purred, brushing the hair from your sticky, sweat covered face. you sniffle, leaning into the palm of his hand. "i can't believe how lucky i am to have you." childe tugs on the sleeves of his shirt, finally freeing your hands from their prison. "stay here, sweetie. i'll draw up a bath for you."

a few minutes later, you find yourself on the sharing a bath with childe. he hums a snezhnayan children's lullaby as he cleans you, scrubbing your back with a sponge. it's a little strange to be receiving such tender treatment from childe, especially since you are supposed to be the one cleaning him. still, you can't complain, especially when childe kisses you as he lifts you from the bath since you can't exactly walk well after your little session.

"sweetie, how about i give you a promotion?" childe asks, looking into your eyes. "my family likes you a lot, you know. don't you think it'd be a wonderful idea to join them for real?" you look at him with wide eyes, cheeks turning pink.

"you mean...?"

childe chuckles. "you're such a cute little thing, angel. what do you say?"

you immediately say yes, leaning up to kiss childe on the lips, giggling when you feel the stubble on his chin scratch against your face.

a day later, childe sends out a few notices that he's receiving interviews for a new housekeeper while you sit in his lap, kissing his neck and breathing in his cologne. in the end, childe did get you to warm his bed. :)

#shroomie.fic #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader smut #childe x reader smut

[thegnomelord]

With all these M!reader courting (and practically rizzing up everyone) in their own hybrid way, imagine poor Ghost, he's like toothless, doesn't know how tf to court someone of say, even his own species because he was once human

And with that rant about all the absurd ways of courting, what would he call as his own?

Would he give gifts like Gaz and Price? A piece to remember them by?

I doubt he'd be the physical type like cuddly ol soap who loves to scent,

He's practically a shadow (literally and figuratively) and I feel like the best he can do is stare and slowly blink like a cat (and let's be honest most of the time we don't see his eye) so he might even just act like a stalker and watch from afar, not much of a scent even on him if he's near, even when in the midst of battle

So what can he do then? I feel like going to Price is his best bet and when he tries to scent something like Soap it smells like nothing

I feel like he'd beat himself up on it

(Also fucking love your courting works, I've been eating that shit up its become a hyperfixation)

- ☕️ Anon

I reckon that staring would be less of a wraith thing and more of a Simon thing. Because like, wraiths don't reproduce, they're made not born. So poor Simon just has to try to use the knowledge he had before he died.

CW:NSFW subbot ghost, topdom reader, rough and quick

He likes you.

Just like he's a Riley, just like the sky is blue, his affection for you is one of the few truths of the world he doesn't question. Only problem — he doesn't know how to tell you. You're not human and neither is he, not anymore, but he's woefully unprepared when it comes to you, doesn't know if he's supposed to go about it as a wraith or as a man.

He tries; Simon's phone is full of open tabs containing every piece of information about your species, trying to find grains of truth in the contradicting mess of words. He's memorized how you like your morning coffee down to the last flake of sugar, watching your face carefully when you trudge to the communal kitchen to find your mug steaming and everything laid out near it. He knows your schedule inside out, always a few minutes earlier in the gym when you come in, offering to spot you, his dark eyes roaming over your sweat covered skin. His gaze is always flickering to you, regardless of what you're doing or where you are — watching, guarding, making sure the world doesn't take away that spark like it did with Simon Riley.

But you fail to notice it, him. Or maybe you do but don't care. Don't see him as anything but your teammate, like you should, like he should. God, what is he even doing trying to fucking woo you like some lovestruck Victorian gent. . .

Simon feels like banging his head against the wall.

Maybe then something in his imperceptibly rotten skull will come loose, tumble around in what's left of his brain like a snowball rolling down a hill to form an avalanche, or at least a vestige of a good thought; an idea, something he could use to get out of this rut.

He doesn't go to Price for advice. The old dragon finds him, knows him long enough to figure out when Simon's up to his throat in shite. Price sits down next to him as they watch you and Gaz spar, "Alright, spit it out." Price hums as he lights his cigar.

Simon's lips form a thin line beneath his mask, his fingers gripping the meat of his arm to keep his form stable. His eyes don't stray from you, cataloging every trail of sweat as it rolls down your skin, watching your muscles flex beneath your skin as you throw a punch, making a mental note to show you the mistakes you make in private and—

His shoulders fall, "'m fucked." The words escape him like he'd been punched in the gut.

Price gives him the side eye, looking him up and down. "Doesn't look like you enjoyed it."

"Hah." Simon says in a dry tone. "Always a comedian captain."

Price chuckles, wing spreading out to bump against his shoulder. "Jokes aside," he lets out a small puff of smoke, "You could just tell 'im."

Simon's eyes narrow, "What, not going to suggest I go find some obscure shite ta gift him?" If he could find some concrete information about your species courting habits he would have done so by now, would have happily torn up Heaven and Hell looking for whatever would make you look at him the same way Price looks at Kyle.

"No," Price rolls his eyes, standing up and stretching. "Just go talk to 'im you bloody muppet, going to creep him out if you keep staring like that." He nods his head towards you.

Simon's head is a dark sea of thoughts as he spars with you, tries to make it seem like nothing's wrong but you catch on quick; he's distracted, falling for moves he'd once chastised you for pulling, the edges of his form crackling like the static of a tv, shadowy smoke rising from his blackened arms as he throws a punch that goes wide.

He grunts as you knock him to the ground, your hands on his shoulders to pin him down. "You alright?" You ask, your brows furrowed. "You're not fighting like you usually do."

You can barely see his dark eyes narrow, his body still beneath yours. "I'm fine." He growls out, tries to ignore how the warmth of your body against his makes him feel, nibbling on his nerves like a craving for a drug he can't have.

"Uhuh," You hum, a little confused why he's letting you pin him down so long. "Come on Ghost, you're not getting soft on me are you?" With a huff you attempt to pull away, knowing you couldn't force words out of his mouth.

The sudden lack of your warmth is what forces his body to move before his mind does, shadows shooting out to grab you before congealing back into his arm, pulling you down so his lips can crash on yours.

You grunt into his mouth from the surprise, your eyes wide with surprise. Simon's frozen heart cracks just a bit when you don't respond, only to melt when you finally kiss him back. Your lips feel like heaven against his, Simon's eyes shutting and long tongue slipping into your mouth.

You choke a bit, pulling back to catch your breath, your eyes widening as Simon's long tongue slips back into his mouth. "Fucking hell Simon." You pant,

"Got a whole bag of tricks." Simon says, his throat dry. "I-" He begins to say, thoughts running on how to tell you he wants you but no words coming out, something clogging his throat like molasses.

"Yeah," You grin, the lights overhead casting a halo around your head. "I know." Tipping your head down you catch his lips again, your kiss deep and rough, Simon's teeth digging into your lip until it bleeds, your sharp fangs nipping his tongue, blood mixing in your mouths, arousal starting to course through your veins.

Simon's hands grope your ass, pulling your crotch down on his so your cocks can rub together. Simon greedily swallows your groan, his arms starting to fizzle, shadowy smoke wrapping around you to keep you close as his hand sneaks down to undo your belts, fishing out your cocks.

"Christ," You groan and pant into his mouth, grabbing hold of both of your cocks and rocking your hips into his, pleasure buzzing up your spine.

"Don't bring 'im in here." Simon growls and throws an arm around your neck, demanding your attention with a kiss, longue tongue pushing half way down your throat and hips bucking up to rub his cock against yours. "Just us here."

You moan against his lips and fuck, if that isn't the prettiest sound he's ever heard, his mind clouding over with pleasure and before either one of you knows it Simon's cumming, pulling you down with him, your combined cum painting both of your stomachs.

It takes a few moments for Simon to catch his breath, his pupils blows wide as he stares up at you. "Shite." He breathes out, boneless beneath you.

You grin, "You can say that again." and you lean down to kiss him again.

#gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #x reader #trinkets from the hoard #male reader #top male reader #simon ghost riley #☕anon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #cod x male reader #cod smut #cod monster au #monster cod au #monster 141 au #cod modern warfare

[silkval]

♟】 the mahogany series- part Ⅲ

thinkin about how your pretty little genshin boys act under your desk...

★fujoshis, wlm and minors please fuck off- you will be blocked★

♢》 whether they were quickly hurried under your desk to hide them from the person who was knocking at your door, oh-so-rudely interrupting the two of you, or the pretty thing crawled under in desperate want of your attention...

kaeya is absolutely the kinda guy who would crawl under there of his own accord. this guy is fucking down bad for you. 24/7 horny.

so, when he slipped his way underneath your desk for the umpteenth time that week, he was unsurprisingly oh-so-tired and already a little tipsy, as he settled down for the night. having entered your chambers with a sly grin and a chaste kiss to your cheek, two glasses of dandelion wine already balanced in his bronzed, lithe fingers as he set them down on the deep mahogany of your desk- his glass, notably, already half empty.

it didn't take long for the poor guy to start brooding at your lack of attention focused towards him- too busy nose deep into the stack of paperwork sprawled across your desk as you muttered out a quick greeting and thanks in return- but nothing more.

oh, and kaeya- kaeya was not having it.

...so, in true kaeya nature, the sly fucker was already bumbling up a plan in his little drunken mind.

and that's how you got to the current situation; the well renowned cavalry captian of mondstand, sat loyally between your thighs.

which wasn't a problem, as it had become a routinely occurance- so you paid no mind as you felt the other male rest his cheek against the muscled curve of your thigh with an inpatient huff, only reaching a hand down to run through his cobalt blue locks- before turning back to your paperwork.

...but was that enough for kaeya? oh, no no no.

so, ever so slowly, his freckled and scarred hands trailed their way up your legs, feather-light touched as a coy smirk curled at his lips. glancing up at you from under your desk, his signature, brilliant grin only growing wider as his lovestruck gaze met with yours- that warning look you shot him going straight to between his legs as your darling boy had to stifle a velvety whimper, sleek hands beginning to tremble as they trailed higher and higher-

...over the curve of your knees,

...ghosting along your muscled thighs,

...dipping into the sensitive plains of your inner thigh,

...ever so slightly dancing over your thick, clothed cock-

and with that, you'd had enough.

your hand shot out, grasping his as a quiet gasp slipped from kaeyas pretty lips, staring up at you as if that wasn't exactly what he wanted you to do.

nevertheless, you only clicked your tongue in feign disapproval, used to the games he played. only reacting with a lopsided, cocky grin tugging at your lips and sending him a pointed look as you leaned back into your chair, staring down at the pathetic male near keening under your gaze- before nudging his plush thighs apart with the tip of your shoes, nearly letting out a mocking laugh as you eyed the rather obvious wet spot between his legs.

no matter how many times you two did this dance, it was always rather amusing; such a confident, seemingly dominant man, known and looked up to by all of mondstandt- a wet, whimpering mess, still untouched.

oh, but you couldn't be that cruel, no? so, with a low hum, you slotted your foot between his legs, the heel of your boot pressing teasingly against his heat as he let out a breathy moan, hands scrambling to grasp onto your thighs in desperate attempt to brace himself, staring up at you with his pretty lips parted with every hot pant, pupils blown wide as you leaned down, lips grazing his ear as a deep, husky drawl slipped from your lips.

'ah- did I say you could touch me, kae? that's what I thought- now, be a good puppy, and stay where you belong- at my damn feet.'

#【writings #genshin kaeya #dom reader #sub genshin #genshin x reader #sub character #sub genshin impact #genshin impact kaeya #sub kaeya #kaeya x reader

[frost-queen]

Shattered dreams (Reader!sister & Bridgerton Siblings)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07,@melsunshine, @goldenmoonbeam, @freyathehuntress

Summary: You are debuted (around Eloise's age) and have met someone in secret. Unaware to any of your brothers. One faithful day they find out that someone is trying to hurt you for 'not listening & not being a good wife to be'. Hearing of this your brothers boil with anger and come to your aid.

The weather was nice, a soft breeze cooling the warming spring season. You took a deep breath, taking it all in. Spring was your favorite season after all. Not too hot, not too cold. Flowers blooming, birds singing and ducks enjoying their ponds. From afar you could already see the lake. Boats set on them to take a tour. Colin noticed your eagerness tapping you on your hand. – “Would you like a tour around the lake sister?” – he asked with a smile. He knew just how much you’d like that.

You formed a smile, holding your hand on his arm. – “Perhaps later.” – you answered. Colin furrowed his brows a bit confused. Why you wanted to wait stunned him. To be fair you wanted to take a tour on the boats, just with that someone special. With Hubert so to speak. You met him a few balls ago. None of your relatives aware of the meeting.

You were absolutely smitten with him. He’d be the one to save you. To care and comfort himself over you till he drew his last breath. You didn’t know why you kept it a secret. Perhaps because the encounter was so secretive and unproper by any standards set up by the ton you perhaps feared it.

Looking around you wondered where he is. Eyes slowly widening when your gaze met with his from afar. Your heart leaped and fluttered. He slightly motioned with his head for you to come and see him. You couldn’t hide the giddy smile on your lips. Slowly removing your arm from around your brother Colin’s. Colin frowned. – “I must ask mama something.”- you lied before he could question your intentions.

He nodded, turning his posture to Benedict and Eloise who were in a deep conversation. Colin over-heard their conversation, sighing loud with an eye roll. They were so headstrong in bickering about nonsense. You made your way over the green fields, keeping a close eye on your siblings behind you. You didn’t want any of them to see where you were heading. Taking several detours between small gatherings, you hoped to blend in and possible disappear from their eye.

The secrecy send a thrill through your body. Excitement bubbling up in your stomach. You gasped, turning sharply around with your back to them after spotting mama with Anthony. They were chatting with Miss Edwina and Lady Danbury. Anthony looking as if he’d rather chew off his own foot then be present any longer. It made you chuckle a bit at the idea.

You moved further, closer to the lake with your back kept towards them. Dipping through a gathering you hoped to blend in. Some ladies gave you a nasty look for suddenly joining in as if you were to eavesdrop or steal their possible suitor from them. You shook your head at them, letting them know that were not your intentions. You moved on nearing the lake. By the lake you looked confused around. Was he not here? Hearing loud a psst made you jump out of your skin. By your left, lurking behind a tree he stood.

You glanced barely over your shoulder before heading over to him. Hubert took you by your hand, pulling you closer to him. – “Miss Y/n.” – he said kissing your hand. You smiled lovestruck and flattered by the gesture. – “I have counted the days till I’d meet you again.” – he whispered. His compliment warmed your heart if he would’ve asked for your hand you would’ve accepted it within a heartbeat. You looked behind you to the lake. – “Shall… shall we go for a tour?” – you asked eager to go round the lake.

Hubert smiled leaving a kiss higher up your arm. You smiled a bit uneasy hoping no one had seen it as it was against standards. – “As the lady pleases.” – Hubert spoke. He offered you his arm as you took it. Hubert and you came in sight, making your way over to the lake. You kept your head down not wanting any of your siblings to recognize you.

You got on the platform. A boat waiting for you to get on. Hubert got in first. You smiled waiting for him to take your hand and help you down when he didn’t. He just sat himself down staring at the other side of the lake. You smiled sheepishly, lifting a bit of your skirt up. Foot dangling in the air, finding balance to set it down. The boat wobbled a bit when your foot touched the boat. – “Hurry up will you.” – Hubert said with a hastened wave. His comment made you stare stunned at him for a brief second.

Without thinking much further about it, you got onto the boat. Hubert took the oars, rowing the boat away. You took a deep breath, enjoying the ride. He rowed the boat further away from the mainland and out of sight. – “Is it not a lovely day My lord?” – you asked to stir up a conversation. His face made a ‘meh’ expression making you regret your question. – “My lord is everything…” – you started wanting to ask about his sudden mood when he stopped rowing. You blinked perplex when he threw the oars to you.

You caught them, staring confused at them. – “My lord… I do not understand…” – you said, looking back up to him. – “I am tired!” – he hissed out. – “Why don’t you row!” – he insisted upon. Your eyes widened at his request. – “Row… my lord?” – you repeated wanting to be sure you understood. – “Yes!” – he called out bothered. – “I spoke clear didn’t I or is your head filled with novelty nonsense?” – he said loudly startling you.

You quickly shook your head. – “Then start rowing.” – he insisted rubbing his shoulder as if it was sore. You nodded obedient with a nervous swallow. You set the oars in the water, giving it a turn. One oar plopped up from the water, splashing the boat a bit. It made you lose your balance a bit, nearly falling forwards. Hubert caught some water, wiping his vest with disgust. – “Apologies My lord.” – you quickly said. – “I shall do my best.” – you set the oar right, giving it another go. After a few failed attempts you found a steady pace to row the boat.

It didn’t took you long to start huffing and puffing at the weight you needed to row. His and yours. To be honest you weren’t that strong compared to Hubert. – “Can you not go a bit faster?” – he spoke with annoyance. You huffed loud, muscles soring up. – “Yes my lord.” – you obliged like a good girl. You started rowing faster and harder, feeling it immediately in your muscles. A pair in another boat raised their eyebrows at you.

Gritting your teeth you pushed through to row the boat around. – “My lord are … you enjoying … the view?” – you asked out of breath. Cheeks flashing with heat from the work-out. He remained silent, haunting the boat ride with it. Clenching your jaw, you felt yourself weaken with rows. Wondering why he was making you do this labor? You felt the wood roughen your palms.

Biting your lip, you tried to keep in any tears. It was so obvious to anyone he was making you do the labor he should be doing. It didn’t even seem to care him. Suddenly the idea of Hubert was very different. From someone you thought would be yours truly, he sure made you do work hard for it. You were slowing down, unable to keep up with it. Your muscles were so sore it used up a lot of effort to even move them. – “Why are you slowing down? Keep it up girl!” – he made clear.

His words stinging like a sharp knife in your heart. Looking up, you blinked rapidly to stop yourself from crying. – “Yes my lord.” – you replied softly. You groaned quietly rowing harder. Putting more work to your labor. Out of breath, you needed to use both hands to push one oar to make the turn. Grabbing the other one once more, you rowed back. – “My lord… are… are you rested well enough?” – you asked hinting to him to take over. He shook his head. Barely lifting a finger in assisting you. Your shoulders slouched with sadness.

Hardening your expression there even boiled some anger towards him. If this was how married life with him would be, you didn’t want it. Him making you do all the work while he enjoys your torture. You kept rowing as the mainland got in view. The colorful tents overtowering the ton. Hearing their laugher carry over with the wind it made you even angrier.

On the mainland looked Anthony briefly up, eyelashes fluttering to be certain it was you he saw on the lake. His eye narrowed trying to focus on you. – “Mama.” – Anthony said without adverting his eyes from you. Violet stopped talking to Lady Danbury, acknowledging her son. – “Is that Y/n on the lake?” – he wondered wanting to be certain. Violet turned her head. – “Why yes she is.” – she answered with smile. – “With a lord.” – she expressed giddy. Anthony’s eyes widened Violet tapped him on the chest.

“Do you know the lord? What is his name?” – she wanted to know. – “I don’t know.” – Anthony replied slightly worried. His eyes widened even more silencing his mother from asking any more questions, seeing you row. His expression hardened with anger. – “He’s making her row!” – he blurted out angered. He looked back, putting his fingers in his mouth to whistle loud. Colin and Benedict looked his way. Anthony called them over with one firm motion of his head. Colin and Benedict didn’t waste another second, hurrying over to his side.

He pointed at you on the lake. – “That little liar.” – Colin cursed out, clenching his hand. Anthony looked confused with a sharp edge to it at him. – “She told me she needed to ask mama a question.” – Colin filled in. – “Clearly she didn’t.” – Anthony bit back bothered. – “Why is she rowing?” – Benedict questioned. – “Shouldn’t he be rowing? Why is he making her do the labor?” – it didn’t sit right with him. – “I’m going to end this.” – Anthony said heading towards the lake. Benedict and Colin hurrying behind him.

On the lake Hubert put you to a stop. You exhaled loud and exhausted. Perhaps a bit too loud. You offered him the oars, smiling at his gratitude of taking over your task. You furrowed your brows when he pushed the oar down. He came closer making you wary. – “What are you acting upon my lord?” – you wondered. He forced himself onto you, making you push him off. It clearly didn’t set with him. – “Do you not love me?” – he asked or rather demanded.

His question baffled you. – “If you want to become a good wife you’ll listen to me!” – he said coming closer again. – “No!” – you called out, battling him away as he tried to force a kiss on you once more. – “I am just showing you my love!” – he yelled getting angry. – “It isn’t love if you force me!” – you yelled back kicking him against the knee. He groaned in pain, holding his knee.

You crawled further up the boat, wondering how you’d get out of this situation. Heck you’d jump out of this boat if it meant escaping him. Hubert rose standing tall. He grabbed you by your arm, yanking on it. – “ A good wife does as she is told.” – he rose his hand ready to strike you.

Anthony was boiling with rage already undoing one shoe of his to jump in the water. Benedict stopped a pair from getting in a boat so they could get in. Colin calling out your name from afar. You gasped seeing his hand go down ready to hurt you. Looking away, you kicked your foot up out of instinct. You felt his chest under your shoe followed by a splash. Opening your eyes, you stared at an empty boat. You crawled over to the other side, looking over the edge. Hubert resurfacing as he spewed out some water. – “Good thing we aren’t married yet!” – you shouted at him.

You grabbed the oars, finding the last bit of strength of yours to row back to shore. Out of breath you reached the platform. Anthony and Benedict hoisted you up from the boat, wrapping their arms around you. – “Where is he? Who is he?” – Benedict called out angered. You cried against your brothers chest. – “I am sorry… I thought he was the one, but he is not. He was so commanding all of the sudden. Making me row, the silence, the insults…” – you cried out.

Anthony hugged you tighter. Hubert swam to the platform as Colin stepped away to let him get up on it. – “Look what you did!” – he shouted with a stern finger at you. Benedict puffed his chest up. He pushed Hubert hard, sending him back into the water. – “If I see you near my sister one more time I’ll make you scream for mercy!” – Benedict threatened.

Anthony handed you over to Colin who comforted you. Hubert came climbing up the platform once more, chest laying on the edge ready to push himself up. Anthony lowered himself smiling angrily. He pushed Hubert back by his forehead, sending him back down.

“You are lucky there are witnesses or I wouldn’t be so well-mannered!” – Anthony called out. Hubert staid in the water afraid to get out and be plunged back by any of your brothers. Your brothers and you left returning to mama. – “Thank you.” – you told them. – “Family is always a priority. First and upmost.” – Anthony answered.  

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists! 

#imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #bridgerton fic #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #violet bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #edwina sheffield #lady danbury #anthony bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #sister!reader #bridgerton brothers #benedict bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton x you #bridgerton siblings #sibling!reader #reader x bridgerton #bridgerton imagines

[hippolotamus]

another installment of what I'm calling the cleopatra series. this time from Eddie's POV because I got in my Buddie feels. part 1 here 💙

late for the love of my life | 7x06 Coda | 912 words | G

“Hey, how was it?” Marisol wraps her arms around his waist, giving him a peck on the lips. 

Eddie barely suppresses the urge to flinch and turn away. Which is maybe a tad dramatic, except for the way it isn’t. Because the past 24 hours have held more than a few revelations. None of which Eddie is ready to share. 

Despite the layers of clothing between them, his skin tingles and crawls where she touches him. If he didn’t have years of experience being exposed to fluids, substances and people he didn’t want anywhere near him, he thinks he would have wrenched away from her by now. No, he definitely would have. But he’s a professional at hiding his personal reactions, both on and off the job. 

Yes, he’s made progress in therapy, but the instincts to hide himself, to put up walls and masks, are still easily activated. Handy for moments like now, when he can’t escape his girlfriend. Or when he has to smile big for the crowd and pretend the perpetual feelings for his best friend don’t exist when said best friend barrels back into the room all lovestruck and covered in soot from his boyfriend. 

“It was good. Really nice, actually.” That much is true. Because it was. Honestly, the whole hospital room chic was perfectly Maddie and Chim. 

“Nice?” She asks in a teasing tone, squeezing tighter and clinging to his torso like a koala. 

His breathing is acceptably even but the urge to peel her off, to tell her that she should probably go home because his heart rate is skyrocketing, his fingers and toes are tingling, and he’s beginning to feel claustrophobic is anything but. His built in panic mode suspects there isn’t enough Jell-o in the universe to undo this. Again, dramatic, but he thinks he’s within his rights to think so right now. 

“Yeah, I-” He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezes his eyes shut and inhales as deeply as he can manage. “Y’know, I’m, uh, still feeling a little worse for wear from last night. I should-” He doesn’t even finish the sentence, just points vaguely in the direction of his bedroom. 

Marisol’s relaxed ‘welcome home’ look turns concerned as she furrows her brow and holds the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stay? I should probably stay over in case you need–” 

“Really,” he interjects, backing out of her hold, “I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep it off, I think. You should go. Home. To your place.” Smooth, Diaz. “I mean, because I’ll probably be restless, y’know?”

“I can sleep on the cou-”

“No,” he says more forcefully than intended. He should be grateful she wants to stay and take care of him. He should. He is. But not the couch. Not… Buck’s bed. His place. Their place.

“Oh.” She takes a step back and he should probably feel worse about the way she looks so dejected. “I, um, I understand. Talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah, talk tomorrow.” 

Tomorrow when I’ve had a chance to reset. When the twin alcohol and love hangovers have hopefully, finally died off. When I’m not seeing an endless mental projection reel of reminders like Or, y’know, you could have mine. Then why are you in hospital jail? Stay with me, Buck. Him choking on blood. You saved him. Abby. His fiancee is Abby. Showoff. My blood on him. Hey, Buck. You think you’re expendable. They’re all dead. I, uh, misunderstood the assignment. Three minutes and seventeen seconds. She sees me. It was a date. 

The front door clicks in the latch and he immediately turns the deadbolt, noting how his pulse drops to a debatably more normal range. He wants to settle on the couch, under the covers in his bed, both and neither all at the same time. In the end he migrates to the kitchen, which really shouldn’t surprise him. 

He runs his fingers over the backs of the chairs, circling around until he’s standing between the table and main counter. Am I one of the things that makes you sad? So now am I allowed to ask how you are? But you do eventually - you process it? 

Eddie turns toward the fridge, drawn to Shannon’s photo. He plucks it from under the magnet, running his thumb over the glossy print. 

“Can never quite get my timing down, can I?” He huffs out a wet chuckle. “God, I wish you were here right now. I could really use someone to talk to.” 

If it wasn’t after midnight he would probably drive himself to the cemetery to sit on the stone bench. To talk to someone that can’t talk back but would nonetheless tell him what an idiot he is. To unfairly water her grave with tears shed because he always thinks he has more time. You might have noticed I almost died. Again. And then I thought, this is it. This is the last day of my life. We’re all going to die alone. That’s what she said to me and Hen. 

Truthfully he’s not sure who he’s thinking of more — Shannon or Buck — as he slides to the floor, still clutching her picture, beginning to sob and shake as the words I love you so much flash like a neon reminder of his poor timing. Does it really matter? Because either way he’s missed his chance. 

But I guess it’s your mess now. 

Part 3 (Buck's POV)

#hippo writes #911 spoilers #i guess? #tw marisol #coda fic #911 7x06 #yes another one #eddie diaz #he's a sad boi #the cleopatra series #buddie ficlet #kinda #in a way #if you squint

[goosita]

PLEASE WRITE MORE OF THE SINGER!READER X BILLY THAT WAS TOO GOOD <33333333

i love singer!reader she’s so lucy gray (but with an actually sweet man)

billy would talk himself up all week just to see you again at the saloon, knowing you’d be back on that stage friday night. for the last 6 days, his buddies have been teasing him for the way he’d stared at you with eyes as wide as saucers, looking like a lovestruck fool. they weren’t exactly wrong, though.

he sits at a table near the back where he had been last time, but this week he’s by himself. he couldn’t bear the idea of his friends, as much as he liked them, poking fun at him in front of you. he felt nervous, wondering if you’d even notice him tonight. he sat and bounced his leg anxiously, waiting for you to take the stage.

and when you finally do, by god, you steal the boy’s breath away.

billy watches in complete awe, your voice ringing out loud and clear through the whole place. he watches you swish your pretty dress around, a different one this week, and how your hair bounces and glitters under the oil lamp lights. everyone cheers you on, and his heart flutters at the giant grin it brings to your face. and then your eyes meet his, way at the back of the house.

it feels like he can’t breathe for those tiny little seconds it takes for you to recognize him, but when you smile brightly, he feels like the entire sun has embedded itself in the center of his chest. he grins back, cheeks flushed pink and eyes glittery. once you know he’s here and where he’s sitting, your eyes trail back to him constantly while you sing.

he watches for you what feels like both hours and only seconds, until you take a bow and skip off the small makeshift stage. and then you’re making your way through the crowd, stopping right in front of him.

“howdy, stranger,” you say, beaming. billy can’t hide the stupid smile that takes over his face.

“hi there.”

you giggle and he feels like he might float away, he feels like he’s in a dream that he never wants to wake up from.

“i could watch you sing for hours,” he blurts out, unable to stop himself. thank god it only makes you light up more, or else he’s certain he would die of embarrassment.

“i don’t think i’d mind pretty blue eyes like that on me, for however long you want,” you flirt, making his heart beat even faster. is he dreaming? he might be.

billy swallows hard as subtly as he can before asking, “maybe you’d like to sit and have a drink with me then?”

wordlessly, you plop down right beside him and peer into his glass. whiskey. he watches in wonder as you pluck it from the table and take a sip, humming. he watches you with a smile, completely enamored.

“i’ll have what you’re having, billy.”

#billy bonney x singer!reader #billy the kid fluff #billy the kid x you #billy the kid x reader #tom blyth billy the kid #billy the kid #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #anon

[kimchitaebae]

Loving a Tomboy? • JJk

❝Fuck you Jeon Jungkook!❞

❝Oh..I'd rather like to fuck you.❞

➤pairing: Jungkook x tomboy!reader

➤genre: fluff, a lil angst, smut, love triangle, neighbour au.

➤warning: contains mature theme, a lot of swearing, protected and unprotected sex, rough sex and lastly lovestruck Jungkook who's gonna give us a lots of heartattack out of cuteness (｡ŏ﹏ŏ)

➤word count: 1.3k

➤reader have specific name!!

➥prev.chapter┆index ┆ next chapter

Chapter: 3

"what?!? He really did that???" Your best friend Jimin said while laughing. "Park fucking Jimin, I didn't called you to make of me." You glared at him as he tried to sushed himself but broke in to laugh somehow. "You! Get out! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" You screamed as he got silent while laughing silently.

"Do something Jimin! Please help me!" You said as you faked a cry. Jimin just rolled his eyes as he wrapped his hand around your shoulder. "In this situation I don't think I can do anything. You just go with flow and just listen to his orders. If you ignore his orders then it's gonna be your loss." He said staring at you as you nodded.

"Oh c'mon, you need to be chill. You didn't told your real identity, then it's all good." He said as you again nodded. "You wanna eat something?" You asked making his eyes widened. "Yes yes fried chicken!" He said as you smiled. "Then order them also for me." You pointed at his phone with a smile as he groaned. "Why are you like this?" He asked quitely as you shrugged. After all you are a broke millionaire.

"Okay then I'm going. See you tomorrow." He said, standing infront of your door as he gave you side hug. You nodded with a smile. That time the guy who you are starting to hate so much came out of nowhere. "Lil boy...I was about to call you." Jungkook said with a sarcastic smile as you rolled your eyes. Jungkook came near to you as he noticed Jimin. His eyes travelled to Jimin's hand which was wrapped around your shoulder then to his smiling face staring back at him.

"Joon come you have so much work to do!" Jungkook said as he pulled you by wrist which caught you off-guard. He then wrapped his right arm around your shoulder as you glared at him. "I'm not your fucking slave Jeon." You replied as he just gave you a annoying smile which you hate the most. "I guess You already have forgot about our deal? Do i have to remind you again?." He asked innocently making you tensed but you hide it. "No need bro." You said as just rolled his eyes.

Jimin watched you two bickering as he cleared his throat to got your attention. "You must be Jeon Jungkook right? I'm her- I mean.. I'm his friend Park Jimin." He said extending his hand. Jungkook stared at him for some minutes before extending his hand also to shake. "It's.. It's great to see you. I'm shocked that you are friends with him. I thought our Joon is lonely bitch." Jungkook said with a laugh making Jimin's eyes widened.

"Why did you hit me?!?" Jungkook screeched while rubbing his arm, where you hit him. "What made you think that I'm a lonely bitch?!? Then you are what? A fucking dog?!?" You yelled at him as he backed away a little listening to your piercing voice.

"Joon..I have to go. I'll meet you tomorrow." Jimin said gaining your attention as you smiled. "Okay then see you tomorrow!" You said as you saw him left.

"Now now you come with me." Jungkook pulled you by your wrist to his place and closed the door behind him. You went inside his appartment and saw the surrounding in mess. There were big boxes placed in everywhere. "Now what i have to do?" You asked as you sat down on his couch. Jungkook's eyes got widened as he hurriedly came to you. "Get up! Who told you to sit?!" Jungkook screeched again as you looked at him with a glare. "woh woh woh! I know i caused you a little mess but that doesn't mean i can't sit on your couch!" You said as he looked at you.

"Well I can't trust you. Everything in my house are expensive. You have already caused big mess. You know how much did i had to pay? 500 dollars!" He said glaring at you while your eyes got widened. "Well I'm sorry. Now what i have to do?" You shrugged your shoulder while he just stared at you with a scowl in his face.

"You have to organize my clothes, the kitchen supplies and equipment and also my room." He said. "That's too much work!" You said as he just shrugged. "You know i don't have a single energy to argue with you. I have so many things to do! Now go and do the work and one thing...be careful with my things." He said as he went to his other room. You stood there as you mocked his face. "What a bitch." You mumbled.

It's been 3 hours you have been organising the house. You have already done with the kitchen and washroom. Only left his room. You were organising his clothes as you found a bunch of Calvin Klein underwear in different colours. You picked up one as you stared at it disgustingly. "Hey God, I pray you to give me enough energy to bear with this bitch." You said as you faked a cry.

At that time your phone buzzed in your pocket. You took out your phone from your pocket as you saw your brother has texted you.

Yoongi boongi😾:

Yujin where are you?I'm already home.

Your eyes widened as you checked the time. 11.30 pm. Shit it's too late!

You:

I'm coming! Wait!

You got up from the floor as you went out of his room. You were finding Jungkook but couldn't find him. After searching all over his rooms, you founded him sleeping on his couch like a baby in the living room. You felt your anger suddenly getting increased. "This bitch-" You mumbled but didn't said anything. You took a last glance at him as you left his place.

You went to your place as you saw your brother relaxing on the couch. "I'm sorry. I was at the new neighbour's place." You said as you sat down beside him. He looked at you and saw you smiling. "New neighbour? She or he?" He asked while scrolling through his phone as you got tensed. "He. Don't worry he is a good friend of mine." You said as he nodded silently and didn't said anything. You let out sigh which got unnoticed by him. Good friend my ass.

"Well i bought some dinner for us. Let's eat together." He said as he got up from his seat and handed you the food. "Brother why don't you take a shower? You will feel relaxed. Then we will eat together." You said looking up at him as he nodded. You flashed him as he also smiled. Your and your brother's face literally match with eachother. He patted your head and went to his room.

"Hmmm! So good!" You said while munching on your food like a beast who haven't eat for years! "Slow down Yujin..will you? It's all yours all right?" Yoongi said as he wiped the corner of your lips. You just flashed your boyish smile to him as he just laughed a little. "Well i can't control myself when it comes to food!" You said as he nodded while laughing.

"Yujin I'm thinking about raising your allowance." He said as you gave double thumbs up to him while eating. He just stared at you while you eat. He didn't miss a little gestures of your while you eat. He just loves and adores you so much. He can't imagine a single day without you. You mean the world to him. "Eat well my little sister Yujin-ie.." He said as you nodded and munched on your food. He felt great full to have you as his little sister.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook #bangtan #bts ff #jhope #jimin #jin #namjoon #taehyung #yoongi #kimchitaebae #bts x reader #bts

[themurderofcrowscollective]

@cod-dump I bringeth you my personal batch of teen Ghost and Soap stuff cause your AU is fucking golden Valentine's Day

So the love for Soap that has been brewing in Ghost for a good while is nearly at it's fullest, and dare I say it, he's actually planning on asking him to be his valentine. One issue though, Ghost is as anxious as can be. He has spent night and day fantasizing over Soap ever since they met, trying to fight his own feelings but ultimately accepting them as they are. So one day after school, Ghost decides to talk to his dad. And I shit you not, Price wasn't prepared for this just like Ghost when he asked the question " Dad, what- I- fucking hell- Okay I have a crush on Soap and I'm sure you know this but how do I ask him to be my valentine? " Now mind you, Price always thought he would never see the day where Ghost comes to him for relationship advice so he nearly spits out his coffee when he's asked that but he composes himself and leans back in his chair. " Well... when it came to my first crush, I had asked him what kind of flower he liked and on Valentine's day, I asked him to be my valentine with his favorite flower in my hand. " Ghost giggled a bit. " Was it Nik? " He stopped giggling when Price looked at him with a 'really?' look on his face. Anyways, Ghost said thanks for the advice and decided to do just that so the next day at school, just near the lockers, Ghost mustered up the courage to talk to Soap. " Hey Soap, I got a question. " " Hi Ghost, what's up? " Ghost felt a lump in his throat as he tried speaking. " Hypothetically, uh... if someone was to be interested in you and asked you what flower you l-like, what- uh- what would you tell them? H-Hypothetically! " Ghost really tried to not act like a total dweeb about it but when Soap laughed, his heart fluttered and he could feel the blush crawl up onto his cheeks. After the laughter that sent Ghost's heart soaring, Soap finally answered. " I like orchids, Simon. " That really did it for Ghost, being called Simon made him weak in the knees and his heart melted. Before he got lost staring into Soap's pretty eyes, he snapped back to reality. " Orchids, got it. Um. S-See you then. " The whole day he couldn't focus on anything, sneaking his phone and looking up places that sell orchids in class. His usual attitude in school was mostly just him being by himself and occasionally picking on Gaz but today he had his head in the clouds. Even Gaz noticed when he approached Ghost during lunch, he was so absentminded that Gaz had to be a little shit and kept asking random questions all of which Ghost mindlessly said 'mhm' or 'yep' as he looked at Soap from across the cafeteria.

As soon as they get home, Gaz immediately yells " DAAAAAD, GHOST IS BROKEEEEN!! " which alarms Price a bit as he approaches the two. " In what way? " Gaz points at Ghost who's in a lovestruck daze. He waves his hand in front of Ghost's eyes who looks at him and giggles a bit before saying " Soap likes orchids. " " Uh oh. " " What? " Gaz tilts his head. " Ghost is in love, not a single thought is behind those eyes. " The next few days, Ghost had been doodling in his private journal and learned how to draw an orchid so once he had enough money to buy stuff, he didn't go to the store he usually went to for snacks or drinks, he made a different turn and headed to this nice flower shop he has visited before. It's his secret favorite place. After talking with the shop clerk and buying a bouquet of orchids, Ghost was really excited and his plan was set in motion. Honestly, Gaz couldn't ruin the excitement for Ghost so he just listened to Ghost's rambles of Soap and for once, didn't tease him. On Valentine's Day, the day that Ghost's been excited for, he decided to wear something decent and had kept the bouquet fresh and watered. As he entered school, looking at the decorations that's been hung up during the weekend, he felt a pat on his shoulder from Gaz which meant 'best of luck bro'. He could feel his heart pounding as he searched for Soap, finding him near the lockers yet again with a gift box in his hand. Holding the bouquet close to him and clearing his throat, Ghost went for it. " Um... Johnny? " Soap turned around quickly, he never thought how good his name sounded when Ghost said his name. " Oh hi Simon, um... happy valentine's day. " " Y-You too, uh... listen, I... got you these. " He awkwardly hands Soap the bouquet, enjoying the sight of his eyes widening and his smile getting bigger as he accepts the bouquet. Before he forgot though, Simon fidgeted with his mask as he spoke. " Johnny, would... would you like to go out with m-me? On a date? " Johnny blushed deeply as he stammered his words, " Y-Yeah! S-Sure, uh... I thought you'd n-never ask. " Your honor, these boys are too cute for their own good. Before class started though, Johnny handed Simon the gift box which had a charm of a ghost attached to a chain and also; a small kiss on the cheek. Simon blue-screened after that, blushing even more redder than a tomato. (more to be added, damn you word limit)

[lattaeyongs]

two tickets to paradise (sjn)

original gif

↳ pairing: johnny suh x reader 

↳ word count: 14.8k

↳ genre: best friend!johnny, vacation (resort)!au, summer!au, fake dating!au, best friends to lovers!au, fluff, slight angst

↳ summary: after your fiance leaves you at the altar, you’re devastated – but not devastated enough to cancel your honeymoon. instead, your best friend johnny accompanies you, and you start thinking that your fiance wasn’t right for you after all.

↳ warnings: sexual tension, sexual inuendos, nudity

↳ a/n (1): loosely based on a hallmark movie with the same name!

It was supposed to be the best day of your life. It’s the day that many little girls dream of. Weddings were supposedly chances to twirl around in a pretty dress and walk down the aisle with everyone watching you be united with the love of you life who would be there for you through sickness and health. It was the day that all eyes were on you. 

All eyes were on you, but not for those reasons. Today was the day that you were jilted at the altar, by the man you thought loved you. Months of meticulous planning just evaporated into thin air. Days spent picking napkin colors, addressing invitations, and touring venue options were all for naught. 

It’s like a gaping pit in your stomach erupted when you were arm-in-arm with your father at the end of the aisle, and Qian Kun wasn’t standing there with a lovestruck gaze pinned on you as he anticipated a fulfilling effect of married life. You thought you were dreaming, that maybe if you blinked a few times, your fiance would just appear from thin air. 

That you wouldn’t be living the most embarrassing moment of your life because of him.

The guests’ heads were turned to you, their eyes filled with pity. They all waited a couple of minutes before saying anything. Then, that’s when the murmuring began. The pleasant summer sunshine now felt like blades stabbing your skin. All right. Maybe Kun is just late, that’s all. He just got caught up in downtown traffic as he was trying to make it to the venue – a historic park near your beloved childhood home, and the venue is decorated with beautiful, lush flowers. Any moment now, he would run up to the altar, his hair windswept in a way that only he can pull off, and he would smile sheepishly before getting ready to make a vow to be true to you and to you only. 

That never happened.

These few moments of tension between you, your father, and the guests felt like an eternity. 

Kun isn’t going to show up, and not because of traffic, but because he doesn’t want to marry you.

It’s as if the world is melting around you as tears start to fall from your eyes. The greens, reds, oranges, and blues from the guests’ outfits and the wedding decor all swirl together, and you unhook your arm from your father’s as you run out of the wedding venue. Your father wants to pursue you, and you can tell that from the way he calls your name, but you don’t turn back to look back at him. You don’t listen to the audible gasps and the murmurs increasing in volume, all you can think about is running. Grabbing the hem of your lacy dress in an attempt to maneuver yourself through the gardens, you look for places you can hide, places where no one is going to find you, places where you wish you could just melt away from the world. 

How are you ever going to live this down? How are you ever going to see anyone again? They’re going to think of you as Y/N, the poor girl whose fiance decided last minute that he didn’t want to marry her.

You cry. You have a good cry where wailing sobs slip out of your throat, until your throat feels raw, which is exactly how your heart is feeling. With how your head drops to your hands to block out any semblance of light, your makeup smudges in your palms, but you don’t care. Why should you? If Kun didn’t want to marry you, then who would?

Your cries turn more silent, where tears slip onto your cheeks without warning and fall onto your lap. In the sunlight, they look like little diamonds. 

You sit in silence for a while, the rustling of the trees, the chirping of birds, and the quacking of ducks being your only company when you hear approaching footsteps. You quickly try to rub your eyes. You’re used to the occasional runner taking a jog at this part since only the historic gardens near a beautiful seventeenth-century mansion serve as the venue for your wedding, not the rest of the park, filled with trails and nature for others to enjoy. You looked out of place at this duck pond by a walking trail, in your white wedding dress sporting dirt stains during the time you’re sitting on a gray, dusty concrete bench, but you tried to make yourself seem a little bit presentable. You would only look at joggers or people walking their dogs for a couple of seconds before they can notice your red-rimmed eyes. 

But the footsteps don’t belong to a random person just minding their life. They belong to your oldest friend, Johnny Suh. 

Johnny’s hair is parted to the side of his heart-shaped head, clearly washed and gelled for the occasion. His suit is a crisp gray, the sheen like morning dew, and you have good reason to believe that it’s designer. He’s wearing pointed Aldo shoes as he approaches you at the bench, and now you can see the sheen on his forehead, from sweat as the sun beat down on him while he tried to find you. He doesn’t say anything, only offering a smile. For him, it’s of relief that he’s found you in this four-hundred-something acre historic park.

“What are you doing here?” You ask bluntly. 

“I was in the area,” Johnny says innocently. 

You snort. “Did my parents put you up to this?” Right now, you didn’t want to see anyone who was at that wedding. You can already feel the embarrassment creeping up your cheeks the longer Johnny is here – the thought of facing your family and friends after this fiasco made your heart climb to your throat.

“No,” He says simply. “I remembered that this was your favorite place to come after school. You always liked coming here and thinking.” You’re surprised that Johnny remembers this about you when high school was almost a decade ago. 

“Your sister wanted to come with me,” he says. You perk up at the thought of your sister. Oh, your sweet sister Iris. You can already feel yourself comparing yourself to her. Here she was, with her husband of six years and her son, watching you get abandoned at the altar. How lovely. 

“I told her that you needed some space. That too many people shouldn’t try to come and console you.” You’re thankful for the courtesy.

“And that’s why you’re here? To console me?” You ask. The word ‘console’ stung you. It had a connotation of pity. If there was anything you wanted less right now was pity. 

Johnny almost laughs. “Console you? I know you better than that. I came here to make sure you didn’t start talking to trees.” For the first time after the wedding disaster, you smile genuinely. You’re notoriously known with your close family and friends for talking to yourself – but it wasn’t just murmuring to yourself what you needed to get done that day; you would talk to yourself or to inanimate objects as if you were talking to another person. You’ve been doing it since you were a child, talking to your dolls as if they could contribute to the conversation, but you never grew out of it. 

It was times like this that you were grateful to have a friend like Johnny, a friend who could make the worst situations seem like they have a silver lining. 

“It’s just,” you start sniffling. “I thought that Kun loved me. That he wanted to be with me forever,” you say softly. Johnny’s eyes were full of compassion and understanding.

“I’m starting to wonder if I pushed him into this,” you think out loud. “I mean, I proposed to him, I was the one that always prompted him about the wedding planning, I was the one carrying most of the weight when it came to this wedding.” 

“That’s a bad sign. At least when it comes to men.” You look at Johnny stunned. You would have expected him to say something like ‘oh no, it wasn’t your fault’ or ‘Kun is an idiot,’ the usual things that people would say if someone they knew got jilted at the altar. But Johnny was your oldest friend, and instead, he gives you honesty.

“What do you mean?” You ask. 

“Men are flighty creatures. They have to be the ones who prompt you when they are ready to put down the roots.” 

You sigh. “Thanks for taking me back to 1950,” you snort. 

“But am I wrong?” Johnny asks pointedly. “Human nature has fundamentally changed very little in the past seventy years,” Johnny reflects thoughtfully. 

You swallow, hard. “I guess I wanted to be married like Iris. She has such a happy life with Jay that I thought maybe I could have a life like that,” you say, a small hint of desperation in your voice. “After all, Iris did get married at around this age.” You say. 

 “There’s no point in being married,” Johnny says, “if it’s not with the right person.” 

“You’re right, you’re so right,” you say. “I just feel so stupid for being so blind-sighted when it was all in front of my face.” Silent sobs choke the rest of any words you have in your throat, and Johnny takes your hand in his. The heat of his hand is soothing and warm. 

His voice has nothing but kindness in it now. “It’s not your fault.” Here it is. “Sure you didn’t notice the signs, but it doesn’t mean that you ever deserved this. What Kun did was unacceptable, no matter if you silently pressured him into this or not,” Johnny says. Despite his voice being kind, there’s reason in it. 

“To top it all off,” you say, heaving a huge sigh, “I spent so much money. Thousands of dollars just,” you make a whistling sound. Since you did most of the planning, you were also paying a significant portion of the wedding expenses. You earn a good salary, but you didn’t like wasting money.

“Did you pay for the whole wedding?” Johnny asks, surprised.

“No, but I paid for a lot of things. The florists, musicians, invitations, food. Kun paid for the venue and the cake. And obviously, I paid for this dress,” you gesture to the lacy dress that hugged your figure. The dress was four figures. 

“There still might be a way to salvage something from this wedding,” Johnny looks like he is in thought, and you look at him, curious. 

“What do you mean?” 

“What about the honeymoon? Did you pay for that?” Johnny asks, rapidly firing those questions at you. 

“Yeah I did –” You groan. You paid for an all-inclusive resort on Jeju Island along the beach. You always wanted to go to Jeju Island, after going on a business trip with Kun to South Korea, where you took a ferry to the island and spent a day on those white, sandy beaches. 

“What’s wrong?” Johnny asks, concern in his expression. 

“The all-inclusive resort I booked in Jeju Island for mine and Kun’s honeymoon is non-refundable,” you say. You bring the palm of your hand to your forehead dramatically, causing a loud ‘smack’ to resonate in the air.

You were such an idiot. Why on Earth would you book anything that was non-refundable? But then again, you didn’t think you would ever cancel your honeymoon. You thought that the limousine that you booked after the reception would whisk you away to the airport. 

Oh, God. The limousine. You still haven’t canceled it yet.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Johnny says. “Most resorts are non-refundable. What if you go on your honeymoon by yourself?” 

You’re practically struck dumb with this idea. Going on your honeymoon alone? 

“Are you insane?” You ask Johnny. “I’m going to be surrounded by married couples and feel sorry for myself,” you say. 

“Why not?” Johnny asks. “You spent the money. And the resort is all-inclusive. It doesn’t matter if Kun doesn’t show up. The only money you would lose is Kun’s airfare.” 

What Johnny said had a point. Everything is paid for in a lump sum in an all-inclusive resort for all the amenities that you have access to, so it didn’t really matter if Kun didn’t come.

“I don’t know Johnny,” you say, knitting your fingers over your lap. “This sounds like a crazy idea.” 

“Since when have you walked away from crazy ideas?” Johnny asks, more rhetorically. “That’s not the Y/N I know. The Y/N I know takes her own path and never feels sorry for herself. She doesn’t care what anyone thinks, and she doesn’t care if something sounds crazy.” 

You laugh. “Very nice monologue,” you say. You stand up. Johnny looks surprised at your sudden burst of energy. “You know what? I think I’ll do that. After all, I spent the money,” you reason, echoing Johnny slowly. 

“One more thing,” you say. “Do you want to come with me? You were the one who suggested the idea in the first place. Plus,” you smile. “I don’t want Kun’s plane ticket to go to waste.”  

Johnny stands up. His tall figure towers over you as he smiles with excitement. “Of course, I’ll come. I want to spend quality time with my best friend. We haven’t had much of it in a long time.” Johnny notes. With your working lives, it’s hard for you both to carve time into your busy schedules to see each other. 

A honeymoon with your best friend? That was the last thing you ever thought would happen. 

-

Instead of canceling the limousine, you called for it to pick you up at Johnny’s parents’ house, where he was staying for the week for your wedding. You took a ride with Johnny in his black Audi with your luggage that you already packed that was full of skimpy clothes and lingerie. You didn’t have much use for those items anymore, but you had a good few pairs of shorts, swimsuits, T-Shirts, and a couple of appropriate blouses; you didn’t have enough time to unpack those items (and you didn’t want to just leave it at the wedding venue or give it to your family), so you decided that your skimpy clothes and lingerie would just have to make the journey to Jeju Island with you.

Twenty minutes have passed, and you pull up into his parents’ driveway. The limo would pick you both up in two hours, which Johnny said was good enough time for him to pack. 

Johnny is in the bathroom, changing and showering to wash off the gel from his hair. You can hear the water running through the thin walls of his adjoining bedroom. You take this as a chance for you to change out of your wedding dress and into a green blouse and jeans shorts, wash the makeup off your face, and undo the complicated hairstyle the stylist arranged in the main upstairs bathroom down the hall. 

You can feel the thought of your heart pounding at the spontaneity of this vacation. You have never done something like this in your whole life, and you can’t think of a lot of people who have done this either. Life is too short, and you’re not gonna spend even a day feeling sorry for yourself because Kun didn’t have the courage to tell you that he didn’t want to marry you. 

Suddenly you hear the phone ring – your phone. The familiar notes hit your eardrums comfortingly, and you look to see the caller ID: your sister, Iris. Taking a deep breath, you answer the phone. 

“Hello?” You ask. For some reason, your voice feels slightly shaky. 

“Y/N?” Iris asks. You can hear the sound of relief in her voice.

“Yeah?” You ask. 

You can hear a few more people (two more people) murmuring in relief. The only people it can be are your parents. 

“Oh my goodness, where are you? Are you okay? I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Johnny and not pursued you –” 

“Iris,” you say. Calling her name made her stop. “I’m fine, really.” 

“Where are you?” She asks again. “You got us so worried with the way you ran off like that.” 

“I’m fine,” you say again. “I’m at Johnny’s house.” Gasps. 

“What are you doing there?” Iris asks, pressing for more information. 

“Hanging out,” you say casually. It feels like you’re in high school, sneaking off to hang out with friends when it’s well over your curfew. 

“You could have at least told us!” Iris exclaims. “You had us worried sick!” Iris takes a deep breath. “When are you coming home?” 

You pause. The only people who know about your honeymoon plan are you and Johnny. You chew on your lip. “About that. You know my honeymoon?” 

“That you’re going to cancel since you’re not going with Kun?” 

You take a deep breath, your blood rushing through your veins. “So I’m not actually going to cancel it.” You hear three collective gasps. 

“What do you mean?” Iris asks. 

“I paid money for it, and it’s an all-inclusive resort. It doesn’t matter if Kun doesn’t come with me.” 

“But what does that have to do with Johnny?” Iris asks. 

You swallow. “Johnny’s coming with me.” 

At this, your parents clamor in confusion. You can hear Iris take her mouth away from the speaker to address your parents. “Mom, Dad? Can I have a moment alone with Y/N?” 

“I guess, honey,” your mother says, resigned. “We’re just glad that she’s okay.” You can hear the floorboards creak, signaling your parents’ exit. But at times, your parents can be nosy and eavesdrop, so your sister takes extra precautions. You can hear Iris walking to a corner and shutting the door. The only room that isn’t crammed with stuff and can fit a human being comfortably is the main floor powder room.

“You’re serious? Like this isn’t a joke?” Iris asks. 

“No. I’m going on my honeymoon with Johnny.”

“God, this would have been your dream junior year,” your sister giggles. Your face immediately becomes hot, and you look at the bathroom door, hoping that Johnny didn’t suddenly come out of the shower. Thankfully, you still hear the sound of water running through the paper-thin walls; Johnny is still taking his shower. 

“I told you, Iris, it was only a little crush!” You whisper-exclaim.

Iris laughs. “Right.” She doesn’t believe you. “You stared at Johnny with the biggest heart eyes! I had to get you drunk to get it out of you!” 

It wasn’t necessarily the way that Iris explained. After you came home for the summer from your fourth and final year of college, your sister thought it was high time to celebrate that you graduated, so she took you to a pub downtown. You both were laughing, having a couple of drinks, and it was your first night trying vodka, and it was strong – you chose to have it neat instead of on the rocks because you wanted the more potent effect. You don’t really remember that night very clearly, but somehow the topic of Johnny came up, and then you finally confessed to her that you had a tiny crush on him back in high school. After all, who didn’t? He’s literally the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. You expressed how confused you were when Johnny wanted to be friends with you, a quiet girl who sat in the back of the classroom and did her work without bothering anyone.

Eventually, you moved on (obviously) and almost married another man. Johnny had a couple of girlfriends in college and one in high school, but nothing panned out; so far, he’s single to the last of your knowledge.

“I can’t believe he never noticed,” Iris laughs.

“Shut up!” You’re laughing a little bit too.

Suddenly the mood of the room becomes more serious. Iris’ voice is clear, her words echoing in your brain. 

“Y/N, I’m afraid of what this is going to do to you. What if you fall for him again?” 

Silence. Your eyes periodically check the bathroom door before you respond.

“I’m not going to fall for him again,” you say quietly. “I’m over him. I was about to marry another man for God’s sake!” 

“Who left you at the altar,” your sister says. The words sting you a little, but you know that your older sister is only looking out for you. “In fact, I would say that this makes you more vulnerable to fall for him again,” Iris reasons.

“Well, I’m not going to,” you say. “That was a long time ago, and I’m a different person now.” 

You practically jump from where you’re sitting on Johnny’s bed, and he comes out. He’s only wearing a towel on his lower half. His hair is wet, and he’s shirtless, his dark abs toned. A couple of drops of water fall from his neck and travel to his chest, and you almost have to physically move your head to rip your gaze away from his body to look him in the eye. He smiles a little, pointing to the stack of clothes on his bed. His bathroom is very small, and there isn’t enough room to change inside there, and his closet isn’t very big either. 

You laugh, noticing that your phone is at your ear. “Nice talk Iris. I have to go now, but we can talk about your dogs later. Bye!” You make a kissing sound, ending the phone call.

Your voice was a little too high-pitch at the end, and you can’t help but feel that all the saliva in your mouth has dried out, and you’re also parched for words. 

“Your sister?” Johnny asks. 

“Yeah,” you say, a little too quickly. “She was just wondering where I was.” 

“Oh,” Johnny nods, understanding. “Did you tell her?” 

You nod. “Yeah. She thinks it’s a bad idea.” You almost want to smack your palm over your mouth, but Johnny looks at you, amused. 

“J-Just that b-being around married couples with my best friend would be w-weird,” you try to heroically save.

“Makes sense,” Johnny shrugs his shoulders. “But who cares? Since when did you have to cancel your honeymoon just because your fiance doesn’t show up?” You laugh. 

It seems that your gaze is locked into Johnny’s and you can’t look away no matter how much you’re trying and butterflies are flying ferociously in your stomach at the thought that Johnny is wearing nothing under that loosely tied towel and –

“I-I’m gonna go to the other room. You’ve got to change,” you say, gesturing to the towel that is covering his lower half. Johnny is suddenly jolted at the thought that he is wearing almost nothing in front of his best friend, not even swimming trunks.

You scramble to the door, which is only a few steps away, and fumble with the round doorknob. You let yourself out and shut the door. You press your back against the wall, smelling the dinner that Johnny’s parents’ are cooking in the kitchen. 

You really hope you weren’t going to prove your sister right.

-

Johnny opens the door after he finished changing, and he’s wearing shorts and a Hawaiian shirt with a gray sleeveless underneath outlining his chiseled chest. You gulp when you find yourself staring and look back up at Johnny. 

“Johnny! Dinner’s ready!” It’s almost four in the afternoon. Johnny’s parents are running the retirement home drill, in which lunches are served this early. It seemed that the older you got, the earlier you wanted dinner served – you were noticing that whenever you stayed with your parents, who served dinner at a comparable time. 

“In a minute!” Johnny yells down the stairs. His mother looks up from the last step to see you. “Y/N! How are you feeling? I’m so sorry about the wedding –” 

Yes, of course. It would be too much to ask from the universe to try not to run into anyone else that saw you get stood up at the altar. Johnny’s parents were at the front, near your parents, and it’s like they got first-class seats to see the empty altar.

“It’s okay,” you say, a bit more tersely than you would have liked. 

“Why don’t you have some food? There’s nothing that a home-cooked meal can’t help,” Mrs. Suh says, a kind, weathered smile on her face. 

You nod, pleasantly grinning. “I’d like that very much.” 

You walk down the stairs. Johnny’s house is much like you remember seeing it back in high school, minus a few minor changes. The Suhs have repainted the walls and added a few more antique knickknacks that Mrs. Suh loves collecting at local auctions. 

The dark wood table, though, looks the same. You sit at the table, with Mr. Suh already digging into his food. Johnny’s parents are from South Korea, having settled in America before Johnny was born. Mrs. Suh, though, never lost her taste for traditional Korean food, and always took the time to make home-cooked Korean food at least once a week. 

Today’s meal is rice with potato and beef soup, thick noodles with soy sauce flavoring, and a side of kimchi. You smile graciously at Johnny’s mother, who arranges the small cups and bowls before pouring servings for herself. 

“I never understand men who leave their fiances at the altar,” Mrs. Suh starts off. “Just tell them the truth!” You nod, feeling that exact same sentiment. 

“I have a cousin whose fiance left her at the altar,” Mr. Suh pipes in. “She was absolutely heartbroken, but she is now living better and said that made her a stronger person.” 

“I hope you know Y/N,” Mrs. Suh says, “that you’re like family to us, and that your pain is our pain,” her eyes are round, serious. She extends her hand out, and you take it. 

“I don’t think Y/N wants to talk about her wedding anymore,” another voice interjects. Johnny enters the dining room and takes a seat in the empty chair next to you.

“You’re right Johnny. So silly of me,” Mrs. Suh says, shaking her head. “Where is my head?” She clicks her tongue. 

The next few minutes are spent in silence, where all four of you are chewing on your food or slurping on noodles. 

“I didn’t think you and that Kun were right for each other anyway.” The clatter of chopsticks immediately breaks the lull of the eating sounds. You all look for the root of the words, Johnny’s mother. 

“W-What do you mean?” you stutter. 

“I always thought you and Johnny should get together.” At these words, Johnny’s eyes are bulging from his head. 

“Mom!” Johnny exclaims. Johnny’s father prefers to not get involved with the conversation, still eating his food and pretending there’s silence.

“What?” Johnny’s mother asks. “I thought I should be able to say my piece. You and Y/N have been friends for so long, I’ve been wondering when it’s going to happen.” 

You practically start coughing up the noodle broth. 

“And by the way, I see that there are suitcases by the door,” Mrs. Suh mentions. From her seat, she can see two suitcases, one of them Johnny’s and the other one yours (he probably must have taken them downstairs before meeting the family for dinner). The bags are almost skillfully hidden by the staircase but not skillful enough to avoid Mrs. Suh’s thorough gaze.

“Are you guys going anywhere?” Both you and Johnny swallow together.

“J-Just on a vacation,” you say nervously. 

“What kind of vacation would you have planned so close to your–” Mrs. Suh has a delighted look on her face. “Inhyuck, it’s happening!” If there’s anything that Mrs. Suh isn’t, it’s a slow woman.

“What’s happening?” Johnny’s father asks, now forced to be a part of the conversation.

“The honeymoon. Johnny’s going with Y/N!” Mr. Suh looks surprised. 

“Well, it’s not really a honeymoon anymore–” you manage to say, but Mrs. Suh is not interested in letting you talk. 

“This is so exciting!” Mrs. Suh continues. “What have you two planned?” 

“Well, it’s an all-inclusive resort, so I guess just relax?” You shrug your shoulders. You look at Johnny who nods. 

“That’s wonderful!” Mrs. Suh looks ecstatic. “Hopefully, it will give you the chance to see what’s destined for you both.” 

Johnny rolls his eyes. “Mom! Y/N and I are best friends. Nothing’s going to happen between us. Y/N just doesn’t want to waste all the money she spent,” Johnny explains. 

“Yeah,” you agree. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

As if on cue, the phone rings. It’s the limo service, and you pick up the phone. As you predicted, it feels like it has been two hours, so it was about time for the limousine to come and pick you up. 

“It’s the limo,” you tell Johnny. “The driver’s here.” 

“Great,” Johnny smiles. Both you and Johnny stand up, and Mr. and Mrs. Suh wish you both a good vacation. You thank them for the meal, and Johnny tells them that he’s going to call them when they land. 

As you exit the quaint home that you grew up coming to multiple times a week, you can’t help but feel a sadness tug at your heart, at the reassurances that Johnny gave his mother that there was nothing between you two. 

You’re absolutely sure that you’re over Johnny, and you’ve been over Johnny for years. But why are you disappointed? 

-

The limo ride to the airport is a maximum of thirty minutes, and you planned the ride to be at around the same time that the wedding would have finished and you would be whisked away for your honeymoon, thus your flight time giving you ample time to get through TSA without worries. 

So far, your honeymoon is going the exact way that you planned, minus the fact that you were going with your best friend instead of your fiance.

After your suitcases are taken to the baggage claim, you and Johnny are both left with small carry-ons. Yours is a tote slung on your right shoulder while Johnny’s is a backpack.

After an hour, you both board the plane, taking seats next to each other. The twelve-hour plane ride went faster than you thought it would. You and Johnny spend the time sharing earbuds, listening to music, and eventually watching movies together. A little thrill rushes through your veins as you watch comedies together while other people were trying to get some sleep; it starts to become a challenge for you both to keep your laughs quiet without earning the stares of disgruntled, tired passengers. 

Eventually, you both start getting tired, and you fall asleep, covering yourselves with the thin, airline blankets that didn’t do much to stop the cold air from piercing your skin and freezing your bones.

You become startled when you hear a voice over the speakers. “Good evening passengers. In fifteen minutes, we’ll be landing at Jeju International Airport. Please turn off all cellular, and electronic devices in preparation for landing. Welcome to Jeju Island!”

You look around yourself with bleary eyes. The whole time you found it difficult to sleep because you didn’t have a pillow. But somehow, you fell asleep and looking next to you, you know the reason why. 

Your cheek has been resting on Johnny’s shoulder, and suddenly you feel your face catch fire. Slowly, you notice Johnny’s eyes open, and he looks at you, tired. He had gotten used to the warm feeling of your cheek on his shoulder and missed it a little.

Your faces are unnaturally close. Desperately, you want to say something that doesn’t pertain to this. 

“We’re almost here,” you say, rubbing your eyes, moving away as fast as you can with your slow, sluggish body. 

The plane lands, and you and Johnny take your carry-ons and exit the plane, into Jeju International Airport.

The lights are bright, and the white walls reflect that light, and it hurts your eyes, compared to the dark airplane you were in for twelve hours. 

After picking up your bags at the baggage claim, you and Johnny make your way to the shuttle, which drives you both a few miles before stopping at the resort: Byeolbich Resorts, right along the Jeju Island coastline. 

The resort is painted in welcoming pinks and oranges, and you see happy couples holding hands and smiling at one another – you, on the other hand, were keeping a safe two-inch distance from accidentally touching Johnny’s skin. 

The woman at the front desk, a woman around your age with long dark hair, is on the phone, but she ends the call with “Thank you for calling Byeolbich Resorts!” after you and Johnny wait for a few moments. 

“How can I help you?” The woman asks politely, a pleasant, hospitable smile on her face. 

You clear your throat. “I made a reservation.” 

“Name, please?” She asks. 

You give your first and last name. 

“I don’t see you on our list,” the woman says, typing on her computer and scrolling. 

Your breath catches in your throat. “I probably put it under another name. Try Qian Y/N,” you say. At the way Johnny stares at the side of your face, you feel your cheeks burn at how embarrassing it was to book a resort under your ex-fiance’s name, as if you’re a thirteen-year-old combining your’s and your crush’s name in a fancy gel pen on your math notebook instead of paying attention in class. The woman smiles at you, clueless to your thoughts.

“Yes Qian Y/N on your honeymoon with your new husband Kun,” She reads from her notes. Her gaze then returns to you and Johnny.  

For the sake of keeping this interaction simple, you decide not to correct her, and Johnny thinks the same thing; after all, you were only going to see this woman when you check into the hotel and when you check out two weeks from now.

“Alright. Room 918.” She types something into her computer, and opens a drawer, pulling out two plastic cards; they were to be yours and Johnny’s keycards during your stay. She hands you both keys. 

“Would you guys like help with your luggage?” A young voice asks. You look to see a younger, college-age guy with a pleasant look on his face eye yours and Johnny’s luggage. It wasn’t really a lot, but since this boy was offering, you smile, handing him your luggage. Johnny does the same.

You and Johnny are careful not to stand too close together as you enter the elevator with the bellhop, and the elevator dings when you reach the ninth floor. All three of you walk across the hall to room 918. You insert your keycard and open the door.

You’re not so sure why the arrangement of the room is a shock to you. 

This is a large suite room like you reserved when you booked the reservation online, but there’s a king-sized bed and a small lounge chair on the other side of the room, which again, was exactly what you booked on the website. When making this last-minute plan to attend your honeymoon and then bring your best friend along, the sleeping situation completely slipped your mind, if you were honest.

“Is there something wrong?” The bellhop asks. You look at him, then at Johnny, then at the bellhop again. 

“N-No,” you stutter to the boy. He smiles in relief. 

“Good. Then I’ll leave you two newlyweds alone.” He says, with a sly smile. At the implication, your breath catches in your throat.

When the bellhop leaves, you shut the door behind you.

“So the bed,” Johnny notes nervously. 

“Yeah,” you say after a while. “I’m sorry, I should have rem–” 

“It’s fine,” Johnny insists. “I’ll take the lounge chair.” 

“No, that would be so rude of me. After I invited you on this trip,” you say. On the website, you booked the ‘honeymoon suite,’ so there’s not even a lousy futon. 

“Are we then just gonna… share the bed?” Johnny asks slowly. The way he sounds, it’s unsure, as if he’s dipping his toe in a cold swimming pool. 

“Yeah,” you say, taking in a deep breath. It takes a long time for you to pry your gaze away from Johnny’s. It took you a few moments to respond to Johnny so that you would sound just as unsure about the idea as Johnny – you didn’t want it to seem that you were ready to jump into bed with one of your oldest friends, but at the same time, you didn’t want to sound repulsed either.

Ah, the intricacies of human relationships.

“I’m going to get showered and change,” you say, changing the subject.

“I will too. I-I’ll change in that closet.” Johnny points. You nod. 

The bathroom is nothing less than exquisite. There’s a beautiful double vanity made of speckled marble, and there’s a large jacuzzi tub. The shower is wrapped in pristine white tile with a light and jade blue backsplash that makes the white pop out more, and the soaps that were laid out in the engraved soap dish were water lily scented. You loved the feeling of the gentle warm water caressing your skin and the soap felt smooth against your skin, and it got rid of the sweat (and embarrassment) that stuck to your skin. 

Before getting into the shower, you were able to find shorts and a loose T-Shirt that was decent enough to be in while your best friend shared your honeymoon suite with you. 

Once you come out, Johnny is changed and is sitting on the bed, plugging his charger into the socket next to the bed. He’s sitting perilously on the edge of the bed, a bit uncomfortably, and an idea strikes you. Johnny’s gaze is on you, and you open the covers (which is difficult due to how beds are made in hotels and resorts). You line various pillows in the middle of the bed. 

“This is my side, and that’s your side,” you say, a bit harsher than you would have liked. 

“Yeah,” Johnny nods vigorously. 

As you lie down on the bed, pulling the covers over you, Johnny does the same. For a while, you linger at the edge of the bed, too wary to go too far inside and mess up the barrier. Despite this uncomfortable position, you try to get some sleep, and eventually, sleep gets to you.

-

No matter how many precautions you took not to destroy the barrier, by morning, the barrier has tumbled over the bed. When you wake up, you’re met with reddish light that tries to bleed through the dark curtains, and… there are arms wrapped around you.

Not just any arms, but Johnny’s arms. 

The pillows that made up your barrier are now spread across the floor, completely disregarded and forgotten as Johnny’s arms envelop your resting figure, spooning you. You’re lying on your side, your cheeks against your soft white pillow, and you’re sure what’s happening now is just a dream, a weird dream that you have no idea where it came from.

As carefully as you can, you try to shift your position in bed without disturbing Johnny.

You fail.

Johnny grunts, and wraps his arms around you tighter, moving closer to you. His nose is only a few millimeters away from touching your forehead, and his lips are close. 

So damn close. 

They twitch a little as Johnny has a pleasant dream, and from this distance, you can study your best friend’s face. You always knew that Johnny was handsome, but this proximity is driving your heart crazy.

His face is a beautiful tan, and any blemishes on his face look ethereal. There are small mustache hairs right above his lip, dark and faint. His sleeping expression is so peaceful that it’s hard to look at anything else but Johnny’s beautiful face, to not admire how wonderfully his features complement each other –

Suddenly, his eyes fly open. You’re about to jump away from him, but Johnny beats you to it. He tries to untangle his arms from around you, and his expression is filled with newfound embarrassment. Now, you both remain on opposite sides of the bed once more, the same position you were early last night, backs straight like sticks. 

“I’m going to wash up,” you say. You absolutely hated the feeling of eating or drinking anything with an unclean mouth, so you stand up. 

“I’ll do that too,” Johnny says. You both walk in the same direction, to the left where the bathroom door lies, and you and Johnny almost try to head in at the same time. Awkwardly when your arm hits the door frame, Johnny backs up. 

“You go first,” he says, gesturing. 

You go in, to the vanity farthest from the bathroom door. 

You already kept your toiletry bag in the bathroom as you did some light unpacking last night, and you fish around inside after opening the zipper, revealing the toothbrush sealed in a toothbrush bag.

Johnny comes back into the bathroom with his toothbrush and toothpaste, and while brushing your teeth, you both exchange wary glances, trying to avoid any sort of confrontation about the situation from last night. 

“I’ll be at the pool if you need me,” you say to Johnny before opening your suitcase and finding your red one-piece swimsuit and a shirt to wear over it. Johnny gives you a thumbs up before turning on his shaving razor. 

When you leave the room, key and purse in hand, you get into the elevator and press ‘main floor.’ Once you’re dropped back off to the main floor, you follow the signs to the pool. 

It’s a beautiful sunny day outside, and the pool looks just as beautiful, a twinkling turquoise gem. A few couples are in the pool, making out or splashing each other, giggles bubbling on their lips, and there are other couples sitting on the lawn chairs, holding hands, sipping margaritas, and chatting. One thing is for certain – love is in the air. 

You heave a huge sigh and find a spot at an empty orange lawn chair. It’s next to a table with an umbrella in the middle. The umbrella is unopened, so you crank the handle, and the umbrella slowly starts expanding. 

“Would you like anything, ma’am?” A woman asks. She looks like she works here since she holds an empty silver tray dripping from condensation from the drinks she just served to the couple chatting and holding hands. 

“What drinks do you have?” You ask. 

“We have a gin-infused strawberry margarita as today’s special,” she informs you. 

“I’ll have it,” you smile. 

She nods and scurries away to the bar. You stretch your legs to cover the vast extent of the lawn chair and close your eyes. 

This wasn’t so bad, you think. Maybe if you could go the whole honeymoon without anyone asking about your fiance, then this wouldn’t be a terrible getaway.

Of course, with the way that Byeolbich Resort was marketed as the perfect getaway for newlywed couples, it would be impossible to avoid that question.

You’re suddenly approached by two people, a man and a woman, most likely a newlywed couple, and the woman waves at you. 

“Are these chairs taken?” She asks politely. 

“No,” you smile. The man and woman take their seat by the pool, and quietness ensues for a few moments. 

“I’m Seulgi. And this is Taemin,” she introduces the both of them. The man, Taemin, waves at you pleasantly. 

“I’m Y/N,” you respond. 

“And where’s the lucky man? Or woman?” She asks, raising a brow. You smile a little at her peppy attitude so early in the morning. 

“Oh, he’s in the room,” you say a little nervously. “He’s just shaving.”

“And you didn’t wait for him so you could have quality time together?” She pesters. For a second you think she’s serious, but she only playfully slaps you on the arm. You’re surprised at her intimacy, at how she treats you like an old friend given that you only met a few minutes ago.

“I’m kidding. Sometimes I need a moment away from this one.” Her gaze for a second rests on Taemin, as her hand shields her lips to pretend she’s telling a secret. You laugh, not particularly because she’s funny but because you’re relieved that she isn’t asking any more questions.

“Y/N!” You hear from afar. From the indoor entrance to the pool from the resort, you see Johnny, waving at you. He’s once again shirtless and he’s wearing blue swim trunks. 

His body looks so wonderfully sunkissed that you think your mouth is about to drop open. 

“So you’re the hubby?” Seulgi says, smiling. Johnny looks at you quizically for barely a second before smiling at Seulgi; she didn’t notice, thankfully. 

“Yep,” Johnny plays along. “Y/N is my wife. We’ve been happily married for a day,” he continues. When he pulls a chair to sit beside you, he grabs your hand and holds it, his knuckles resting against his thigh. 

You’re almost caught off-guard with how comforting his hand feels.

Seulgi looks overjoyed. “Congratulations!” She exclaims. “We’ve only been married for a week,” Seulgi gestures to herself and Taemin. 

“By the way, I’m Taemin,” Taemin introduces himself to Johnny. 

“Johnny,” he says, reaching out to shake Taemin’s hand. Taemin looks a little baffled at the gesture before ultimately taking Johnny’s hand.

“That’s wonderful,” you say, plastering a smile on your face. It’s not entirely fake – you’re happy that Taemin and Seulgi were able to find love together – but the crushing feeling it gives your heart is unreal. 

Here were two people who got married and were honeymooning together. They looked so genuinely happy. They didn’t seem to be walking on pins and needles like you were.

“Your drink?” The woman from earlier takes your flute and places it on the table. 

“Thank you.” You bow a little, as per Korean tradition. 

“Would you guys like anything?” She directs to the rest of the group.

“Some Soju,” Taemin says. “None for my wife though, she’s had more than her fair share for today,” he jokes. 

“Hey!” Seulgi whines but makes no move to order a drink for herself. 

“Could I have some Bokbunja-ju?” Johnny asks. Korean raspberry wine. You’ve heard of it faintly when Kun would order alcohol at restaurants in Korea. 

The woman writes down these orders and goes back to the bar. 

“So,” Seulgi starts off. You’re drinking your margarita when she continues again. “Out of all the places you could take your honeymoon in, why Jeju Island?” She asks. 

“Well,” you say. “Johnny had a lot of business opportunities in Korea, and one weekend, we went to Jeju Island to soak up the sun at the beaches,” you explain. “Ever since, I’ve loved Jeju Island.” It wasn’t completely a lie. Replace Johnny with Kun, and it’s the same story.

“How wonderful!” Seulgi gleefully claps her hands. “Taemin and I have been coming to Jeju since we were kids,” she looks fondly at her husband. “We were best friends before we became married. Can you believe it?” She asks, not really expecting an answer. “We’re from mainland Korea, from Seoul,” she says. 

“I remember it like it was yesterday,” Taemin suddenly says. Seulgi feverishly blushes. “We were in the same dance class. I saw her from across the room, and I instantly knew that I had to be around her.” 

“Aww,” you say, trying to gush more emotion into your voice. Yours and Kun’s meeting wasn’t actually that interesting – a couple of friends in college introduced you to him. 

You don’t talk to those friends much anymore.

But right now wasn’t the best time for you to be hearing cute love stories while you were still so bitter. 

“Speaking of dance classes,” Seulgi says. “There’s a couple’s dance at the west wing tonight. You guys should come.” Her voice sounds very enthused. 

“Well, actually, me and Johnny were going to –”

“We’ll come,” Johnny interrupts. 

“We will?” You raise a brow at your fake husband. 

“Yeah. We will,” Johnny reassures, looking at you before pleasantly smiling at the couple. You gape at him only for a few seconds, before it can become noticeable. 

“Great! I guess that’s settled.” Seulgi says. 

“Drinks?” You hear a familiar voice, and it’s once again the woman who served you your drink. She hands a drink to Johnny and Taemin, and they thank her graciously. 

As you chat with Seulgi and Taemin for a few more minutes, you only pray that they won’t ask anything too personal, or catch on to your secret in some big, dramatic way. 

After all, isn’t how all these ‘fake dating’ scenarios end? 

-

Thankfully, you have enough summer dresses in your arsenal that would be formal enough to wear to a dance. Your dress is a cream dress with red leaves, sleeveless, and it comes to almost your knee. Johnny is wearing a nicer shirt and some slacks. 

He looks stunning. 

You both approach the west wing, and you know it’s the correct location when you can hear loud music bleeding through the walls. Johnny courteously opens the door, and you walk in, to see many couples in nice clothes dancing to the live music. They’re playing lively jazz music, and the saxophone and trumpet music hit your soul. 

“Y/N! Johnny!” A voice shouts in the midst of all the noise. It’s Seulgi, and holding her waist is Taemin, who is beaming at his wife.

“Seulgi!” You exclaim. Taemin detaches himself from his wife and they both approach you in the crowded room. 

“I love your dress!” You exclaim. Her dress is a light, seafoam green, and it compliments the heels she’s wearing.

“Thank you! I love yours!”

You smile at the compliments. You take a few moments to observe the decor, a dark room lit by fairy lights, and a large panoramic window that shows the sun dipping into the ocean that is a few miles away from the resort. 

“Why are you guys standing around?” Seulgi questions. “Dance!” You didn’t even realize that Seulgi and Taemin started dancing to the music while you and Johnny stand awkwardly together. 

“What do you say, partner?” Johnny asks. “Can you pleasure me with a dance?” He rephrases, a cheesy smile on his face. You laugh at how he dramatically bows to take your hand, and his hands suddenly land on your waist. You gasp, thanking the loud music for masking the sound, and you feel your body stiffen.

“This feels like prom for adults,” you say as you match Johnny’s lively steps.

“Remember our prom?” Johnny says nostalgically. 

“Yeah,” you smile. You and Johnny went to your senior prom together after your best friend offered to take you when you couldn’t find a date and all your other girlfriends had dates. You didn’t want to go so you won’t bother them, but Johnny enthusiastically volunteered because he thought that prom was too important to miss. Even though it’s just overdressed high schoolers in a school gym dancing to ‘The Cupid Shuffle’ and the like, every high schooler should have the experience. After all, it’s the one day that the school gym doesn’t smell like a sweaty sock. 

Johnny picked you up, wearing a matching navy-blue bow tie that his mother picked out to your hand-me-down navy blue gown that your sister wore to prom, and you ate at a Mexican restaurant and showed up to prom just as more and more people were arriving. Your heels were digging into your feet, but you didn’t care, just dancing to party music and singing along without a care in the world.

It was the night you were sure that you were in love with Johnny, and you were sure your best friend was never going to like you the same way you liked him. But despite that soul-crushing feeling, you still had fun.

Suddenly a slow song started to come on. You stop twirling and stare awkwardly at Johnny. The DJ speaks into the microphone. 

“This is for all you guys in love!” 

“I guess we start slow dancing,” you say. Johnny holds you close, and you feel any words you’re going to say die in your throat. You press your cheek against Johnny’s shoulder, careful not to smear any of your foundation on his nice white shirt. Johnny holds you in a way that’s not too loose and not too tight, the two of you moving your bodies in synchronicity to the Korean ballad.

As more and more people stare into their partners’ eyes lovingly or start kissing, your steps start to become mismatched with the beat as you slowly become more uncomfortable. You feel your cheeks heat up as you observe those couples and meet eyes with Johnny again. 

Neither of you says anything. 

“That’s right folks!” The DJ says. “Now it’s time to get it on!” His voice is expressive as he scans the crowd for couples. 

Out of nowhere, the lights from the mechanical moving spotlights land on you and Johnny, the only couple that doesn’t look all lovey-dovey. You harshly gulp at the newfound eyes that were on you. 

“Come on, don’t be shy,” the DJ says in good humor. “PDA is allowed here. After all, most of you folks are on your honeymoon.” 

“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” Seulgi starts chanting. Taemin follows her with a wide smile on his face, and slowly, other couples start joining their chants. 

Finally, both you and Johnny have had enough of all the guests’ goading, so quickly, you press and peck onto Johnny’s lips. He looks frazzled at the gesture, but he tries to keep his cool. You pull away, smiling at the audience that is circled around you both.

“You guys can do better than that!” The DJ sighs. 

Johnny leans in, grabbing your waist and pressing you impossibly closer, and smashes his lips against yours. He nibbles your lips gently, and you’re pretty sure that your heart is about to beat out of your chest and move when it hits the dancefloor, but your heart is very much in your chest as you feel the sensation of your cheeks catching on fire as you kiss back, enjoying Johnny’s lips.

Johnny pulls away slowly, as if he’s scared to pull far enough from you that you can gaze into his eyes. But finally, he faces the crowd, smiling, and they cheer. You follow in suit.

When Johnny dropped you home from prom, he gave you a warm hug on your front porch. Not a single kiss was exchanged and the closest you got to ‘couple’ things was taking photos. When the slow dance came, you and Johnny were sitting at a table, resting your legs. 

Now, you’re far from prom. 

-

It started when you were a sophomore. Johnny was in your English class, and together, you were supposed to make a utopia based on the principles in Republic by Plato. You needed to get into groups of four. None of your usual friends were in that class, so after asking a random girl if she wanted to be in your group, and another guy approached you to join your group, suddenly Johnny, a guy you saw around your school but didn’t really talk to, asked to partner with you. Dumbstruck, you agreed. 

The problem with partnering with random people is that you’re not sure if they’ll do their fair share of the work. For the guy and girl who joined you, it seemed like they were allergic to meeting up or contributing anything to the shared PowerPoint that you created, and Johnny was the only one actually helping out. He was always ready to meet in the library or stay after school, and together, you carried your group to an ‘A’ and wrote scathing reviews of the other members of your group.

You thought it would be a little crush that would dissipate after Johnny went back to his old friends after the project, but he just stuck around. What was just a crush by junior year was you slowly falling in love with your best friend, with the way he was always able to make everything better. He knew what you were thinking before you even said it. He knew how to cheer you up if you did poorly on a test. 

Out of all the girls in school, there was no way he could ever fall in love with you. You were certain. At prom, he didn’t ask you to slow dance, and you both rested your feet while sitting at one of the tables in the corner of the room, watching other people slow dance while you squeezed your sore feet. You had it all planned out in your mind that if he would slow dance with you, it showed that he liked you in that sense, and you would finally confess.

Although you didn’t let it show in the final weeks of high school, you were heartbroken. But the physical distance you had going to separate colleges helped you get over him. Eventually, you fell in love with Kun, the Chinese exchange student that your friends introduced you to, and were obviously engaged to him.

Until today, you thought you were completely over Johnny Suh.

Johnny was like a flame – if you got too close, you were going to get burned. It happened once before. But you were careless enough to let it happen again with this honeymoon trip. 

You should have listened to Iris because now you were falling for your best friend for the second time, and you’re not sure your heart can handle it again.

-

For the next few days, neither you nor Johnny mentioned the kiss and pretended that it didn’t happen. You both would wake up next to each other and use the other facilities of the resort. One day, you both went surfing, then on another you went to the beach and built sandcastles, drinking strong Korean alcohol. While things were a little awkward – like how you both wouldn’t stand less than two inches from each other, you still were having a good time despite how you were unexpectedly falling in love with your best friend again.

Seulgi and Taemin raved about the massages at the resort next time you ran into them at the pool where you and Johnny would relax and start working on your tans before you would do anything substantial in the day. 

“In order for the masseuse to be the most effective, you need to take off your clothes,” Seulgi informs you both. “Obviously, there’s going to be a towel over your bum, but at least you need to be topless so they can rub the essential oils on your skin, and you need to take off your pants if you want the leg massage. But that shouldn’t be a problem for you both,” Seulgi smiles suggestively, “you should be seeing a lot of each other in bed.” 

You and Johnny laugh uncomfortably. “Yup. We’re having a good time in bed,” you say nervously, hoping that you don’t sound as nervous as you are.

To avoid any awkwardness, you and Johnny book separate appointments at the same time but with different masseuses. Your masseuse is a woman named Jiyeon, a kind woman in her thirties who you heard from Taemin has expert hand that can melt the stress away from your body.

You’re clutching the edges of your robe when Jiyeon smiles at you. “I’m going to look away and get some oils from this cabinet,” she points to a glossy white cabinet with a metal handle. “Feel free to take off your robe and lie face down on that massage table. There’s a towel over there for covering.” 

You do as she bids and strip down naked, lie face-down on the massage bed, and put a medium-sized white towel on your butt. You position your face on the massage bed, which cradles your cheeks comfortably. 

All of a sudden, you hear a knock.

“Excuse me, I’ll only be a moment,” Jiyeon says. Quietly, she opens the door, closing it so that there’s a thin line of air between the door and the door frame. The person who knocked starts talking, and you quietly listen to what they say.

“Jiyeon,” says a woman. “Do you mind looking after my client? My five-year-old just had an incident at school, and the teacher wants to talk to me,” she says, not elaborating further what the ‘incident’ is. 

“Sure. Come on in,” she tells the client. “I’m going to get more materials from this cabinet, and feel free to strip down and grab a towel.” 

“Sure– Y/N?” You know that voice from anywhere: Johnny. Your head now rests on your cheek as you look at your best friend, who only has a towel on his waist.

“Johnny?”

“You two know each other?” Jiyeon asks. 

“Well, we’re sort of… married,” you say, the words sounding unfamiliar on your tongue. 

“That’s your husband? Normally couples try to utilize the couples’ massage,” Jiyeon thinks out loud. 

“We…” Johnny is out of words. 

“Don’t worry,” Jiyeon says. “Many couples are shy around their spouses being naked, especially if they were saving themselves for marriage.”

“Y-Yes,” you chime in uncertainly. “I was saving myself for marriage, and now that I’m married, it’s all so new to me.” You chuckle nervously.

“That’s absolutely okay,” Jiyeon says expertly. She’s probably massaged hundreds of couples who are having a hard time adjusting to married life. But you’re pretty sure she’s never run into a couple faking to be married because that was easier to explain than the real story. “Now that you’re together, I hope you both can start overcoming that shyness.” 

“Yeah,” Johnny says quietly. 

Jiyeon goes back to getting more oils. It’s too late now to cancel your appointment. Johnny faces the the door, and you gulp at the toned, muscular, hell even beautiful side profile of your best friend. The second that Johnny takes off his towel, you shift your head to face the tiled floors. For a millisecond, you got a good view of a completely naked Johnny. You feel your cheeks burst with heat, and you’re glad that no one can see your cheeks right now.

You’ve seen Johnny half naked before, in his swim trunks and even with just a towel, and you have admired his beauty from afar before. But now it’s different. The thought of liking Johnny and him being naked in the same room is too much for you.

The second massage bed squeaks as Johnny gets on, and you feel a tapping on your arm. You turn to Johnny, whose cheek is smushed against the table and he has a wide grin on his face. 

“So much for private,” you whisper, quiet enough for Jiyeon to not hear.

“It’s like the universe wants us to see each other naked,” Johnny scoffs. 

“Today, we’ll be using a lavender green tea mixture,” Jiyeon says, unaware of your’s and Johnny’s private chitchat.

She starts off coating the oil on your back, little by little. She gently dabs the substance and places her hands on your back, and you gasp a little at the feeling of another woman touching you like this. Johnny snickers and you make a mental note to smack him later. 

You feel the mixture working wonders on your skin, and it’s as if your worries are melted away by Jiyeon’s skilled hands. You moan slightly at the sensation of being pampered, and you feel your lips curl up into a smile. 

“Enjoying yourself over there?” Johnny asks. You turn your head to face him. 

“You will too,” you smile. 

You’re a little disappointed when Jiyeon’s hands leave your body and she takes a few steps to massage Johnny’s sunkissed flesh. He hums contently as Jiyeon massages him, lathering his body with the essential oil mix, and you watch, slightly jealous. 

You want to touch his skin like that.

“You signed up for the leg massage?” Jiyeon asks. 

“Yes,” you say. That was back when you thought Johnny wasn’t going to be in the room.

After you close your eyes, Jiyeon rubs the oil on your legs, and you feel bliss overcoming you. Her fingers are soothing yet powerful, two words that usually have a hard time coexisting together in the same sentence, but in this case, ‘soothing yet powerful’ is the perfect fit for what you’re feeling.

She asks Johnny if he was supposed to have a leg massage, and he says yes, so Jiyeon gets to work on him, and Johnny is just as content with the massage as you are. 

When Jiyeon steps away and stands in front of you both, Johnny sounds disappointed. “Is it already over?” 

“Yes. You can book another appointment with me if you want,” she says. “I’ll leave you two to get dressed,” she says suggestively before leaving the room. 

At the same time, you and Johnny look at each other.

“I-I’ll change first,” you offer awkwardly. 

“Okay,” Johnny says, his gaze straight at you. 

“Do you m-mind looking away?” You ask nervously. 

“Oh,” Johnny didn’t even realize that he was staring at you for a long time, at how beautifully the towel around your waist and butt shows your womanly curves. “Yeah, of course.” He turns his head away, and you get up, grabbing your pink blouse and shorts from where you discarded it before the massage started. You fumble with trying to put them on, your hands shaking, mentally chastising yourself for changing so slowly.

“I’m finished,” you say to Johnny, your back facing him. “You can change now, I’m not looking.” 

“Okay,” Johnny responds. You hear the massage table creak as Johnny rises, and he has his back facing towards you. You don’t know what possesses you – a bit of curiosity or horniness – but you turn around slowly yet silently, to get a view of Johnny’s toned, muscular back, tanned due to all the time you both have been in the sun recently. You watch how he turns to grab a robe that you didn’t even realize was lying around, and your eyes travel ravenously to his toned chest, down, down, down…

Your cheeks are heating for the millionth time today when you turn your head back, staring at the white walls. You can see Johnny about turn to face you just as you were staring, and terrified of getting caught, you whip your eyes back to where they are supposed to be, on the white, pristine walls. 

“I’m done,” Johnny says. “But I’ll need to go to the other room to get my clothes.” He smiles, his face a little red. Good, he didn’t notice you staring. 

“Let’s go to the seafood bar,” you say before Johnny can say anything else. As you try to make your mouth water at the seafood you read on the website was the best in Korea, your mouth is watering at something else… 

Oh, how you wish Johnny stopped being friends with you after that project. 

-

Instead of getting drunk on the beach for the twentieth time during your stay, you decide to invite your favorite couple Seulgi and Taemin for some beach volleyball. It looks fun in those summery beach movies, so why not try it in real life?

You asked the receptionist at the front desk where all the sports equipment was, and she showed you a portable storage unit near the part of the beach that was owned by the resort, and the four of you take the time to set up the net. 

While playing under the hot sun, the time passes by quickly. Taemin and Seulgi win the first set while you and Johnny win the second set, both worth twenty points (neither of you were sure how many points a real beach volleyball game was supposed to last, and twenty seemed like a good number). 

The final set consists of fifteen points, mostly only to be the tiebreaker set, as you have learned from watching a little beach volleyball in the summer Olympics. The previous sets weren’t that long since neither you, Johnny, Seulgi, or Taemin were that good and were honestly a little scared to be diving head-first into the sand to keep the ball in the air. But as the competitiveness of the game increases by the set, all four of you are willing to do what it takes to win. 

The match is at 12-11 with you and Johnny on the losing side – for now. The best thing about having Johnny on your team is that Johnny is at least six feet tall and perfect for blocking the ball from coming to your side – embarrassingly enough, that was probably where the majority of your points came from because Seulgi had a difficult time diving for the ball, and you weren’t exactly much better. Sure, you had pretty good reflexes – back when you were growing up with Iris, you could swat her hand away when she tried to pull your hair – but those reflexes weren’t the same type you needed to keep a volleyball in the air. 

“12-12,” Johnny says, smirking at Taemin and Seulgi. 

“It’s not fair!” Seulgi whines. “You’re so freakishly tall,” she jokes. Taemin presses his lips in a fine line in good humor. Being only 5’9, he would have to jump really high if he wanted to block Johnny’s shots, and that only happened sometimes. 

The final set persists. Every time you and Johnny would get another point, you both were cocky and off-guard, leaving Taemin and Seulgi to regain a point and keep the score tied. Once, they earned another point, leaving you and Johnny behind one point. The final set in beach volleyball doesn’t end until one team earns two more points than the other team, and sometimes that leads to sets that were more than twenty points. 

Thankfully, though, this set does not go over twenty points, but ends with twenty points exactly. With this heat, you were praying that it would end soon so that you could get a drink of water (which you would get only every ten points into the set). 

With you and Johnny leading, you serve the ball. Seulgi is able to receive it and set it into the air, when Johnny is able to jump up and block the ball. He is able to aim his block to an exposed part of Taemin and Seulgi’s side, where neither of them are in range of protecting. After Johnny makes his move, neither Seulgi or Taemin could stop the ball from touching the sand. 

“We win!” You exclaim excitedly to Johnny. Noticing how Seulgi and Taemin are watching, you run up into your best friend’s arms and kiss him on the cheek. Johnny carries you and presses a soft kiss on your lips, playing along (and sadly, nothing else). 

“We get it,” Taemin rolls his eyes. 

You and Johnny help Taemin and Seulgi take down the net, and you shake hands. 

“Good game,” you say to each other. Seulgi pulls you in for a hug while Taemin and Johnny fist bump in good faith. 

“See you guys later,” Taemin says. He directs his gaze to you. “After you told us about the surfing, we’re going to try it out,” he smiles at you then redirects his gaze to Johnny. They both bow in a means to say ‘good-bye,’ and they take the net away, which you all agreed would happen to the losers of the game. Johnny takes the ball, and you throw some sticks you found to mark the court towards the ocean. 

Seulgi and Taemin are just ameobas in the distance as you and Johnny make your way in the same direction, sand coating your feet. The walk is slow since the sand seems obsessed with ensnaring your feet.

As you walk, your arms brush. Due to the awkwardness parading around as a married couple, you jump back, but Johnny doesn’t. 

“When are we going to stop pretending?” He asks suddenly, perfectly in Johnny’s signature direct style. Your eyes widen. You knew it; Johnny hated pretending to be married to you, after all who would want to be married to you? Even Kun, your fiance of numerous years, didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with you. 

“What do you mean?” You ask cooly, trying not to show that your lips are starting to quiver. 

“Pretending to date?”

You take a deep breath. “When we get out of this resort. Then we can go back home and pretend that this never happened, and you don’t ever have to talk to me ever again because I forced you to play along as my fake husband–”

The words that keep falling out of your mouth evaporate as Johnny faces you, a serious look on his face. His brown eyes contain the utmost seriousness. 

“That’s not what I meant,” he says. You cock your head. It’s as if your heart stopped, waiting to beat again until Johnny says something.

Johnny then says the words that make the earth shatter under you. 

“When are we going to stop pretending to date and start actually dating?” 

You feel completely winded.

“R-really dating?” You stammer. You couldn’t believe it. While you were suffering alone, thinking that Johnny probably doesn’t like you back (for the second time since you’ve met the guy, in fact), he’s standing right in front of you, telling you the opposite of what you’re expecting. 

“Yeah,” Johnny says. He takes your wrist, the volleyball between his waist and elbow long forgotten as it drops onto the sand. The world has stopped rotating, and only you and Johnny are in this moment. 

“Why?” You can’t seem to get over your astonishment. 

“Because you’re really great, and I can never get you out of my mind,” he says. Your gaze continues to burn a hole into his eyes, and he finally continues. 

“I’ve been in love with you since junior year. So what’s that?” Johnny asks, rhetorically, “Seven years?” You have to keep yourself from letting your jaw drop to the ground. “On and off of course,” he smiles. 

“I was so worried you didn’t like me back,” Johnny says, taking a hand and combing his hair back, revealing his tanned forehead. You can tell that this is a dialogue that has taken years to perfect and to get the courage to say. 

You can’t believe that you’ve never had the courage to say these words like Johnny, preparing to love him in silence once again.

“Not to mention that it could change our friendship forever,” Johnny said. 

“But Y/N,” he says. “Not for a second did I stop thinking about you. In college, there was something missing. Sure, I had a few girlfriends here and there, but there was nothing that was substantial. Every time I went out to an Italian restaurant, and I would remember how much you love pasta,” Johnny smiles to himself. 

“When I got with Kun, why didn’t you say anything?” You ask. 

“Because,” Johnny sighs. “I thought it was too late. You were already in love with him. And I tried to move on. But I couldn’t,” Johnny says suspensfully. 

“Then this honeymoon thing happened. I knew I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. I don’t want to lose you to another man, not again,” Johnny says, his voice rising in slight anguish. 

“It was so hard to look at the happy pictures of you and Kun on Instagram kissing, holding hands, going out together. In fact, it drove me insane,” Johnny chortles, in an attempt to keep the mood a little lighter than it was.

The new information puts Johnny in a new light. You shyly try to avoid his gaze, but you fail. You need to tell him this to his face. 

“I guess this is something else we have in common,” you smile. “I’ve had a crush on you since sophomore year, but I’ve been in love with you since junior year,” you take a deep breath, waiting as you let the words resonate in Johnny’s brain. His gaze urges you to continue.

“I didn’t want to tell you anything because I was afraid it would change our friendship. And imagine if you didn’t feel the same way, how awkward it would be. Could we ever really look at each other the same again?” You confess. 

“I had a speech planned out senior year. At prom,” you say. Johnny’s gaze remains fixed on you as he processes the new information. 

“I thought that if you asked me to slow dance, then it would be the perfect time to confess,” you say. “If we slow danced, then it meant that you sort of liked me? Or that the mood was right? I don’t know,” you giggle. “It sounds stupid now that I say it out loud.” 

“Well, you were one step ahead of me,” Johnny joins in on the laughter. “God knows that I was too chicken to confess to you.”

“Iris would say the same thing about me. ‘Just confess already! No it won’t be weird that you’re in college now’” you mock your sister.

“But then my friends introduced me to Kun. He was so different,” you sigh at how young and in love you were with him. “He seemed so exotic. He was the Chinese exchange student, but then became a permanent student and got help with his citizenship. This was when we were together. Kun called me his good-luck charm, and I thought it was a sign that we should get married.” You smile ruefully. “We know where that went.” 

“I don’t think I was ever in love with him,” you start off. “I had this stupid, silly little competition with my sister, but I was really the only one participating. I always had to one-up her, and there wasn’t really any provocation for it,” you confess. It wasn’t like your parents compared you to her. Naturally, you’re a competitive person. 

You’ve never told this to anyone, and suddenly, it feels like there’s a big weight lifted off of your chest. 

“You never needed to be like your sister,” Johnny says. “Just being you is enough.”

Slowly the gap closes between you both. You throat dries at what you’re going to say next, but you force the words out of yourself. 

“I love you Johnny Suh. I always have, and I always will.” Johnny smiles at the tenderness of your voice. You giggle. Finally, it’s out. 

“God, I feel like I could scream it to the world,” you say. 

“Then do it,” Johnny challenges. 

You smile. You step away from Johnny and cup your hands around your mouth. 

“I love you Johnny Suh!” You scream shrilly. At the way peoples’ gazes land on you both for a few seconds, you giggle, and Johnny follows in suit. 

“Now your turn,” you put your hands on your hips. 

“I love you Y/N Y/L/N!”

People mind their own business this time. Love confessions are probably the norm around here. 

Before you can stop yourself, you stand on your toes and place your lips on Johnny’s. His lips feel fresh and you can’t help but feel your heart race uncontrollably. You feel like you could die at this moment because you can’t imagine yourself being happier than you are right now, and you want to preserve the feeling. Johnny feels the same way; he can’t stop kissing you, your cherry chapstick making his mind hazy.

You both stare into each others’ eyes as many thoughts run around in your heads unsaid. Johnny’s hands find their way to your waist. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. He starts moving, to the beat of his own song, and you follow his steps. By now, you have a feeling why he’s doing what he’s doing. 

“Giving you the slow dance that you wanted. And,” he says bringing his lips impossibly close to your’s that you can’t believe he’s not kissing you right now. “The dance I was too scared to ask for.” 

Together, you and Johnny are slowdancing on the beach. The sun isn’t a problem anymore, and everything else has faded away in which it would take a lot to remove you from the little world you’re in with Johnny.

You start humming, and Johnny joins you.

If only you told him nine years ago.

-

A blade of sunshine hits your face, slowly rousing you. 

Your vision is bleary with sleep, but the crisp off-white walls and abstract paintings hanging above the bed signal that you’re in the hotel room that you’re sharing with your best friend Johnny. 

Now, your boyfriend Johnny. 

You both are tangled under the soft white quilt in a mess of limbs. You try hard not to move to abruptly so you don’t wake your boyfriend. There’s something in his face that makes him look so peaceful, so relaxed and child-like; you’ve noticed that people always look like that when they’re asleep. 

If there’s something Johnny has learned over the years, it’s knowing when people are watching him when he sleeps. In college, if he felt the slightest gaze hit him during his boring history class, he would immediately jerk awake to not alert the professor of his lack of effort.

But now, he likes the feeling of your gaze raking against his cheeks. He enjoys it for a few moments before he slowly opens his eyes. Your face is close to his, and you almost want to jump away from shock, being so consciously close to your best fr – boyfriend, you mean. 

Johnny’s hand quickly grabs your wrist. He would hate for you to back away, because then, he wouldn’t be able to smell the pleasant coconut and strawberry bodywash you used yesterday. 

He smiles a sleepy sort of smile. “You’re my favorite thing to see this morning, and all mornings.” 

These words make a fast heat spread across your cheeks, and Johnny only gives you a throaty laugh. “Did you forget that we’re dating now?” 

To Johnny, being your boyfriend seemed natural; maybe that’s because for the last week and a half, he’s gotten a lot of practice.

For you, on the other hand, it’s going to take longer to get used to. Sure, you’ve gotten practice being Johnny’s girlfriend, but for the whole time, you were a bundle of nerves, afraid that at any moment, someone will find out the true story and will immediately start to pity your situation. Or that Taemin and Seulgi would find out and get mad at you for lying. After getting to know them better, you felt bad about all the lying.

Johnny is a go-with-the-flow type of guy, and after being handed the ropes, he knew what to do. That was one of the many things you love about Johnny. 

You lean forward to kiss Johnny’s slightly-chapped lips and smile. “Of course I remember that we’re dating.” 

The two of you hop out of bed together; last night, after eating lots of seafood at the seafood bar for maybe the third time since you’ve come here, were completely full and were too tired to do anything else except lie on your backs and sleep together, feeling more content than you have in a long time. 

Both of you go into the bathroom where you brush your teeth, stealing gazes at each other while foam coated your chins and making silly faces after cleaning your mouths. 

After getting into your beachwear, you both head to the pool, your go-to place before you explored any of the resort for the day. That’s the place where you would meet Taemin and Seulgi, your first couple friends. 

Taemin and Seulgi are already there when you and Johnny arrive. 

“Y/N! Johnny!” Seulgi calls out. Taemin gestures to two empty lounge chairs by their table and they already ordered you guys drinks. 

There’s a reason why you like them.

You and Johnny wave and then join them, taking the two full drinks by their table. 

“How was the surfing lesson?” You ask Seulgi, remembering yesterday that Seulgi and Taemin tried surfing lessons that were advertised on the resort website. 

“Hilarious,” she says. You quirk an eyebrow, finding the response odd, but she continues. “I was having a good time – in fact, I was a natural, but this one here,” she shifts her gaze to Taemin for a few seconds, “kept falling on his butt!” She erupts in a fit of giggles, and Taemin is prepared to argue. 

“The instructor said it was natural for beginners to fall like that,” Taemin defends himself.

“But I was a natural,” Seulgi says playfully, whipping back her hair dramatically. 

“Yes, you were,” Taemin fondly smiles. 

“It took him at least ten tries for him to actually stand upright,” Seulgi says. 

“And what did the instructor say after that?” Taemin challenges in good humor. 

Seulgi smiles, “that pro surfers should watch out.”

Taemin nods, “That’s right, don’t forget,” he bats her shoulder. 

“I’m so lucky to be married to such a stud,” Seulgi says, and at first you think that it’s her being sarcastic, which a small part is, but then her gaze becomes serious. She forgets that you and Johnny are around for a few seconds. 

“And I’m so lucky to be married to a beautiful, natural surfer.” They kiss, and you and Johnny smile. That was you guys just a few hours ago, sick with love that you confessed to one another. 

You don’t feel bitter anymore seeing them together, only glad that you found someone who shares the same kind of love for you that you do for him. 

Seulgi and Taemin’s gazes are back to you both. 

“There’s something…” Taemin trails off, his finger to his chin, “different about you guys.” His voice is clear and astute. Taemin is one of those people whose quiet, but when they say something, people listen to them. 

Taemin collects his thoughts to say something further. He inspects you and Johnny in detail. “You both don’t have a few inches of distance. And you’re holding hands.” He points out. 

You feel your heart catch in your throat. You were hoping that neither of them would notice anything different, but you weren’t really the best actress. 

“Wanna tell them?” Johnny asks. Taemin and Seulgi wait in anticipation for your next words. 

“When we came into this resort, Johnny and I weren’t actually married. Or dating in fact.” These words paint shock on the other couple’s faces. You continue the story with how your fiance of many years left you at the altar, and after paying lots of money for the honeymoon, you decided to still attend, this time single and with one of your oldest friends. 

“We knew it would be really complicated to explain this story the first time we met you or even the staff. So when people would assume that we were married, we didn’t correct them.”

You try to stop the butterflies in your stomach by thinking that honesty is the best policy, and that you’re relieved that you finally told the truth to people you considered your friends.

Seulgi and Taemin are lost for words for a while. 

“Well that’s… eventful,” Seulgi says. You think that she’s about to call you a no-good liar and walk out of your life, but she just smiles. “But I would have done the same thing too. And about your former fiance,” she says, “Fuck him.” 

“Seulgi!” Taemin says, “There’s no call for bad language.” 

“Of course there’s a call for bad language for Y/N’s terrible former fiance. I know you’ve heard it a bunch of times, and you’re probably tired of it, but I’m really sorry that that happened to you.” 

With Seulgi, it didn’t seem like she was trying to sound like they pity you, but her words were heartfelt and genuine. 

“It’s okay,” you shrug your shoulders. “Him dumping me is the reason why I’m here today with the love of my life,” you smile fondly at Johnny after taking a sip of your drink, and he leans in to share a kiss that tastes of strawberries and alcohol. “It gave me time to reassess who I should really be with.” 

After a few moments of silence at your soulful words, you raise an eyebrow playfully. “Maybe I should send him a thank-you note.” 

“Maybe you should,” Taemin says. “It’ll tell him what he missed out on.” 

a/n (2): thank you so much for reading! this was a very self-indulgent fic that i had a great time writing. let me know what you thought by leaving a comment or sending me an ask! my ask box is always open. thank you for stopping by!

#nct #johnny suh #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct 127 #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh scenarios #johnny suh imagines #nct imagines #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct reactions #nct fics #johnny suh smut

[archiveof22048]

13:34 - asakura shin sfw | fem!reader, she/her pronouns used 1.3k words

there she is again.

shin watches you enter the convenience store, grocery list floating around in your thoughts. cooking oil that your mother has requested that you buy (she's the reason you're out on this inconvenient convenience store trip, you were hoping to spend the day lounging around at home). your favorite brand of strawberry milk that you might as well get since you're out. your sister's favorite brand of potato chips that she texted you to get for her.

just like the past few times since he had first seen you in the store, you're just as pretty as ever. you've got this bored look on your face, one riddled with annoyance due to your mother, but shin finds it cute.

he smiles when the two of you make brief eye contact, one that lasts just barely over a second, a smile not only at you but also the fact that you looked his way in the first place.

sakamoto, adept as ever at reading facial expressions, doesn't need clairvoyance to understand that shin's taken an interest in the girl perusing the store. sakamoto watches shin's lovestruck face, his eyes nearing the shape of hearts and his cheeks and ears dusted with pink all over.

'how cute,' sakamoto thinks. he reminisces of the time he first fell in love with aoi, a picturesque love at first sight, set in a convenience store just like this. his story seems to be the opposite of shin's, where the store clerk, now, is the one who's fallen for the customer.

immediately, shin turns to face sakamoto, who's got a blank stare as he slurps on his nissin ramen. "sakamoto...!! i heard that!"

again, sakamoto remains blank-faced.

then, shin sighs. "it's not like i can do anything about it. i'm a worker and she's a customer. it'd be weird for me to make a move, don't you think?"

'not exactly,' sakamoto thinks. he looks down at his watch. it's almost 2 pm. 'your shift is almost up anyways, shin. lu and heisuke should be arriving soon.'

"huh? i thought i don't get out 'til 5 pm, though."

in response, sakamoto just stares at shin until he understands. then, he blushes. "oh..."

then, some rustling occurs from the other side of the counter. "excuse me... i'm ready to pay."

it's you.

sakamoto takes a step back and lets shin be the one to ring up your items.

you lay all of your items out on the counter haphazardly, all over the place. it's sort of silly in shin's eyes, knowing your thoughts behind it. 'agh, my sister seriously wanted five bags of these chips... and mom, does she really need three bottles of cooking oil? they better both pay me back as soon as possible.'

you look down meekly. 'please don't judge me,' you think, 'i just want to go back home.'

shin is silent. is now the time to strike up a conversation? should he be 100% professional and remain quiet? he's getting more and more flustered, so much so that he can't focus and rings up four bags of chips instead of five. he's feeling the same amount of stress as he would during an assassination mission.

"um... i think you need to scan one more bag of chips," you say.

you spoke to him. your voice is cute. you're cute.

just as quiet as your thoughts, he responds with a simple "...oh, you're right. sorry."

then, he hears a blessing.

'he's cute...'

after keeping his eyes down for so long, he glances up at you, who's already staring back at him. you're a little shocked from how sudden he looked up. especially with after that one little thought of yours, you may as well think he could read your thoughts.

you swallow dryly, flustered with his brief yet intense glance.

'he's finally the one scanning my items. it's always the guy behind him,' you think. you look up at his apron to read his name tag. 'shin...'

shin blushes heavily. it takes a great amount of effort for him to ask, "do you need a bag?"

"yes, please."

then, you're carrying 4 bags out the door, saying a "thank you, have a good day!" over your shoulder. despite carrying mainly bags of potato chips, what you're carrying is quite heavy and is slowing down your walking. even if the walk is only ten minutes, you think you may need to stop halfway to give your hands a rest.

you hear a faint "wait!" from behind you. when you turn around, it's the cute store clerk jogging up towards you.

"hey," he says, not even out of breath. he hasn't gotten an apron on, but you remember his name-- shin. "do you need help carrying your bags?"

you don't answer his question, and instead you ask one yourself. "aren't you supposed to be working right now?" it's not a question out of annoyance or malice, but pure curiosity.

"oh," shin says nervously, "sakamoto let me end my shift early. business is slow today, anyways."

you silently cheer to yourself. shin can hear the fireworks go off in your mind, and he has to do the best he can from confessing right then and there.

you give him two of your bags, beaming at him. "okay, then. my place isn't far from here."

the two of you walk side by side, and it's a silent walk. you're both keeping silly little grins to yourselves. yours is due to the cute store clerk helping you out, and shin is smiling because he can hear all of your thoughts; his feelings are not unrequited.

you break the silence first. "you're shin, right? i saw it on your name tag."

"yep, that's me. and you are...?"

you give him your name, and it's a beautiful name. you're beautiful.

"it's nice to meet you, shin."

he blushes. "nice to meet you, too."

"y'know, my mom wanted me to get all these groceries, but she wanted me to go to the grocery store downtown. she insisted i didn't go to sakamoto's, even though it's closer, 'cause it's 'too dangerous.'" you laugh to yourself. "pfft, ridiculous, right? i decided to go to sakamoto's 'cause..."

'because of the cute store clerk i'm talking to right now,' you think. 'wait, that's a little too personal, especially since we just met.'

shin smiles slyly, turning to you. "because...?"

"ah, i forgot."

shin nudges your shoulder with his, laughing. "you were definitely gonna say something, say it!"

you laugh, too. "no, no! i actually forgot!"

he can hear you affirm to yourself, 'he's so easy to get along with. i want to keep talking to him, but we're almost home...'

you stop in your tracks and turn to him. "we're almost at my place, it's just a couple houses down. i can take the bags from here."

he silently gives you the bags, a pout forming on his face. it's almost as if shin is trying to tell you he doesn't want to go just yet. "can i at least walk you there?"

you giggle. "sure."

by the time you reach the gate to your house, the sun is setting. "well, here's my place. thank you so much for helping me out. i really appreciate it."

both you and shin lean against the gate. he huffs out a laugh, trying to play himself as nonchalant. "it was nothing. i'm glad i got to meet you."

as the two of you are beginning to say your farewells, there's a whisper that hushes all around the two of you, stemming from your thoughts. 'please, ask me out. please, ask me out.'

shoving his hands in his pockets, looking up at the sky so as not to show you his flustered face, shin starts, "so, uh..."

you look up at him, a glistening hope in your eyes.

"would you want to get crepes some time?"

#sakamoto days x reader #shin asakura x reader #shin asakura #sakamoto days

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine being a Hufflepuff, and dating Remus Lupin.

“I’m happy for you mate, you know I am,” Sirius said, leaning into Remus as his friend was watching you splash around in the lake with Lily. It was a gorgeous day, nearing towards the end of the school year, and you were finally getting to relax after submitting the last of your assignments. “But if you don’t help me with this essay like you said you would, McGonagall is going to mount my pretty ass in her office for the world to see.”

“Why don’t you ask James?” Remus said, not being able to take his eyes off your smile. He was keeping your cloak dry for you, the unfamiliar yellow edges symbolizing you were a Hufflepuff looked even brighter next to the red of his own Gryffindor ones. “He finished his.”

“Because Lily is a bikini, you bloody idiot,” Sirius groaned dramatically. “He’s practically dead to the world.”

“Hmmm?” Remus asked, not really listening, Sirius’s voice going in one ear and out the other. “Yeah I’ll uhh - I’ll help you later. Watch our stuff?” He got up from where he was sitting, unable to resist the call of you beckoning him from the water and insisting that the water was fine.

Sirius sighed. “At least I’ve got you, right Pe-” He turned to look at the only non-lovestruck friend that he had, only to find that the shorter blonde boy was up the tree, climbing over a branch and cannoballing into the lake, making everyone inside of it laugh.

“Come on, don’t be so serious,” You called out teasingly, wrapping your arms around Remus, showing him love and affection despite the scars that he was insecure about. “I’ll help you with your essay, Sprout showed me a good trick.”

“Damn your relaxed head of house,” Sirius said, but wouldn’t allow himself to be a spoil sport, casting a protection charm on all of your things and then running towards the water, ready to splash everyone within an inch of their life.

Requested by: @rachelcarroll1819​

#Remus Lupin #Remus Lupin x reader #Remus Lupin imagines #Harry Potter #Harry Potter imagines #request #imagines #x reader #remusl

[sports-on-sundays]

everyone can see he looks at you like you're the world, but you don't even know it / landoscar

Summary: Lando x Oscar - Lando being stupid and Oscar being lovestruck basically.

Warnings: Uh none??? Maybe light mention of violence. Maybe some could be supposed as a bit of angst.

Requested: Surprise surprise- no

Author's Note: Usually won't be writing ships but I had to get it out of my system. Might not be my best work but I really just had to write some Landoscar. Enjoy, fellas.

Oscar watched as Lando kidded with Carlos, feeling strange flutters in his chest whenever Lando laughed with his friend or did something goofy.

He was so fixed on Lando, he didn't even see, hear, or register that the former McLaren driver Lando was conversing with could clearly see him gazing as he was.

"Lando, look at the way your teammate looks at you," was immediately what Carlos said, always taking any opportunity to tease Lando.

"Hm?" Lando asked, in confusion, glancing around. "Where is he?"

Carlos gestured with his chin discreetly, and Lando glanced behind him.

And his eyes met the big brown ones of his teammate in McLaren. And right away, as soon as their eyes met, Oscar's flitted down to the ground. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his brown eyelashes covering his downward facing eyes like curtains. As he sped up, to Carlos, the pink on Oscar's cheeks was unmistakable. But to Lando, it was nonexistant.

Lando looked back to Carlos, grinning as his eyebrows scrunched up, "What? Were you trying to trick me, mate-"

Carlos chuckled, shaking his head, "You're so oblivious."

"Sorry, what?"

"Got to go. Ferrari team is calling."

"Carlo-"

"Adios!" he called, before walking off.

Oscar rounded the corner, but he had heard it all.

It was impossible. In interviews the glances Oscar caught himself giving. 'Accidentally' bumping shoulders with him was difficult not to do. He wanted to be near him. He loved talking with him. So many of the things he did were so funny and...

God.

No, he didn't think Lando was stupid at all. He wasn't trying to let Lando know the strange feelings welling up inside him. No, he didn't want him to know. Because they were weird. They were teammates more than friends. And friends more than... more than anything other than that... And Lando probably isn't... like that.

He didn't know he was into guys, either, until Lando.

(Okay well maybe Logan was really his first crush but he really refused to admit that he still found Logan cute.)

But no, it wasn't Lando that was stupid. It was himself.

He was acting like a kid in school with a stupid crush who had no control over his emotions. What the hell was up with that, he did not know. But control in this subject was not a skill he could grasp.

"Oscar!" said his teammate as Oscar felt his hand grasp his shoulder. Oscar looked over his shoulder, his nose suddenly inches from Lando's.

"You're in a good mood," Oscar observed at the grinning twenty-three year old.

Lando shrugged. "Why not? How are you?" The two McLaren drivers stood, getting some morning coffee together.

"Oh, I'm fine..." Oscar murmured, pouring coffee into his mug.

"Oh, I'm fine..." Lando randomly mimicked, exaggerating Oscar's tone of voice and (in Lando's perspective) Australian accent.

Oscar smiled, looking up, meeting his eyes, Lando grinned, being silly. Being silly on purpose, with the intention to make Oscar laugh. He could always make Oscar laugh, and just the fact that doing that didn't make Oscar chuckle suggested unconciously to Lando that something bothered his mate. Curiously, he'd found himself starting to pick up the little things about Oscar, quicker than he had with either of his other teammates.

"What's up, Oscar?"

"Nothing much, wh-"

"No, like, how are you this morning?"

Oscar was taken off guard by the sudden seriousness in his teammate's voice. He looked up, and felt his stomach lurch as he stared at Lando. He scanned his face- which was quite handsome to be honest- and their eyes met.

He's so serious, but I can't tell him what's really bugging me.

Because he's bugging me.

Oscar swallowed, which Lando saw. "I'm good, as I already said. Sorry if I seem a little tired... Didn't sleep well and I have a lot on my mind."

Lando studied the younger man, before saying, "Obviously we're just teammates, but every single little personal thing can affect racing and performance- so if you ever need to get anything off your chest-"

He cares. He cares so much. "Thanks, Lando, really, I'm fine," Oscar interrupted curtly, before grabbing his drink and turning on his heel, walking out of the room.

"Look at this," one of Oscar's friends laughed. "What the hell are these fans?"

"Most of the time I try to avoid the really strange ones-" Oscar abruptly stopped talking when he saw what was on his mate's phone. His nose crinkled up and his cheeks grew red, and as anger seeped in, so did embarrassment.

"What the hell is right. Why do you seek out this stuff?"

His friend chuckled. "Your reaction is funny." His friend had shown him a post, made by some dumb fan who likely needed a life. A picture of himself and Lando, with simply the caption, 'Oscar looks at Lando like he's the world, and neither of them realize it.'

Why do fans-

No way.

That's not real.

Looking at the picture made the Austrialian's stomach lurch. Because he sort of got what the fan was saying.

"Dude, Oscar, you'll never guess what Alex said the other day," Logan laughed. The two twenty-two year olds walked down the paddock together.

"You're right, I won't guess. What did he say?" As they walked, Oscar instinctively waved to Lando the moment he saw him.

Logan waited a few seconds, before saying, "That's funny, too."

"What?"

"It was about Lando. Because, you know, they know each other well enough. Rookies together and everything. Like you and me."

"Sure..." Oscar always was careful, hesitating when talking about Lando with others. He was mindful to never bring him up and always say as little as possible about him. No one could know how much he felt obsessed with the other McLaren driver.

"He was like, 'Have you see the way Oscar looks at Lando? It's like he's an angel or something. And trust me, Lando is not an angel.' Or he said something like that. I was like, 'Yeah I guess.' But really I thought about it and you probably just... What?"

Oscar had accidentally sighed a little too loud. "Nothing. That's just not the first time I've heard something like that. But continue on-"

"Yeah, well, I was thinking that you probably just have those type of eyes that show your feelings. Like right now." Logan and Oscar looked at each other's eyes.

"Hmmm?"

"Your eyes always show when you like someone a lot. I mean I'm sure you've got other friends and you look the same way, or, like, at your mom."

"What brings you to that conclusion?" Oscar asked carefully.

"Well, because, Alex is right. That's not just your constant look in your eyes. It took me a second to realize that, though, because you look at me with the same look. Which is nice, buddy." He made a silly grin.

Logan was really lame and cheesy. Or at least Oscar thought so.

(But he was also cute.)

And it was unfortunate he wasn't just slightly more stupid.

Oscar's eyes flitted to the ground of the paddock. I really am terrible at hiding it, aren't I? Logan's saying my eyes betray me. Isn't it curious only I get that look in my eyes when it's Lando or Logan?

It honestly really stressed Oscar out, and it was getting tiring to pretend nothing was wrong.

No matter how much I watch my words, everybody knows because of my stupid eyes. May as well gouge them out.

Oscar was tired after the Japanese Grand Prix. Lando spraying him with champagne on that podium. It was... amazing.

A moment he'd never, ever forget.

But now he was tired. So, so tired.

Suddenly, though, he turned, hearing a door swing behind him in the McLaren hall. His eyes met Lando's, and his heart involuntarily started to beat faster as Lando made his way down the hall toward him.

"Oscar," he said simply, grinning widely in the way he did. The moment he reached him though, Lando, with no more thought and one purpose, suddenly threw his arms around Oscar.

It wasn't just any hug. Lando hugged him tightly, his chest pressed against Oscar's. For a moment, Oscar was too shocked to move. Can he feel my heart pounding? This far after the race, can I blame it on adreniline?

Oscar finally awkwardly, stiffly, wrapped his arms around the British driver back, the hug lasting too long for... anything close to regular.

Finally Lando spoke, breaking the terrible silence. Still, he spoke soft. Almost gentle. The concept of Lando speaking gently to him... Oscar had to admit... he liked it. "You've seemed off lately. I hope this... I hope this makes you feel better, these podiums..."

And your hug.

Oscar relaxed slightly, his muscles become less tense as his arms rested more closely against Lando's back. He was warm, and emotions from Lando flowed into Oscar. It was comforting, despite also being unnerving for Oscar. He practically choked on the words, and even coughed, but got out awkwardly, "Why- Why do you care so much?"

Lando sighed. "Because we're teammates. And I like you..." Oscar felt heat on his face and surprised butterflies as Lando pulled away.

Lando gave him a cute smile, before starting to walk down the hall past him. On his way past, he patted Oscar's back, and as he walked off, called, "And, besides, that's what friends are for!"

Right.

That's what friends are for.

As Oscar glanced back over his shoulder for one more glimpse of Lando, he felt cut to pieces. And alone.

#f1 #formula one #formula1 #formula 1 #f1 2023 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #mctwinks #twinklaren #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fan fiction #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 one shot #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 one shot #formula racing #formula one racing #formula 1 racing #f1 racing #mclaren racing #ln4 #op81 #lando norris #oscar piastri #lando