#oh also the laptop is 6 years old and starting to get slow

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Star-crossed in the Crosshairs (John Price x Reader)

Chapter 7: The Lengths That I Will Go

Fic Summary: This mission is the pinnacle of your efforts for the past three years. Your whole team and yourself have worked countless hours, slaughtered hundreds, risked life and limb for scraps of intel, and now it all boiled down to pairing up with another taskforce to get this job done and dusted. An unexpected spanner in the works comes in the shape of your former best friend, now also a Captain and somehow resurrected from his KIA status, John Price.

You can’t afford to let feelings - old and new - get in the way of your purpose. No matter how much you’ve missed, wished for, loved him, and no matter how much he might feel the same.

Chapter 6 // Masterlist // Gif Credit // AO3 Version // Chapter 8

Left eye swollen shut, you spat out the blood that had seeped into your crooked mouth and tried not to think about how your dentist was gonna look at you if you needed another tooth replacing. Your captor took time away from your face to exploit your ribs, which you were certain had transitioned from bruised to broken thanks to the knuckleduster he had slipped on just minutes ago. You’d been counting them for the sake of passing the time. All that torture training resurfaced for the first time in a eight months, and you resolved yourself to the pain – your only ally besides the inside of the hood that allowed splinters of light through the minute gaps in the woven fabric.

First rule: never give your captor anything.

Second rule: give into insanity.

It didn’t matter how many of your team survived right now. Because if you imagined hope for a fraction of a second, imagined that they were coming for you, you had something to be broken by and you would not be broken by this. Right now, you didn’t know how many of your team had made it. You could afford to lose yourself. Therapy would bring you back-

No, stop it. No therapy, no hope, this is it.

And you knew why it was harder to compartmentalise this time than last year. You’d let your emotions slip out before you were out of the storm, let yourself get so damn sentimental over Price and your history together. Now, instead of having a good cry about it in your office or sleeping off the stress on a flight home, you were stuck here with a fucking bag on your head and injuries that would only aid your captor’s attempts to chip away at your resolve.

Your eyes had dried about two hours in, no room for instinct amidst the flourishing bruises and ringing ears. Tears had dried up with the blood staining your skin and soaked the hood; every punch no doubt cracked the blood into flakes.

Mercifully you were lifted under the armpits and dragged across the floor. You counted two doors opening and closing and an elevator in between, the concrete cutting off to mosaic tiles that trapped and tripped the toes of your boots that grazed over them. Only when the dragging stopped and you were forced stand up was the hood removed from you. At last you got a look at your captor – incredibly unremarkable compared to the man you both shared a room with.

Čiernik was laughably attempting to position a webcam atop an ancient laptop in the corner. As you were forced to stand in the centre of the room, he moved aside and you stared down at the monitor where someone was depicted staring with their gormless face smeared in blood.

Oh. That was you.

Your zip ties snapped off your wrists, but you didn’t start swinging because another prisoner was being shoved in front of you and you could tell from the uniform who it would be.

A similar state of affairs, Price had his hands in zip-ties, his shirt already removed and the sack on his head taken off shortly after. His absent boonie bared his face beneath the low hanging light bulbs. A stream of blood ran from his temple to his bushy jaw. Somewhere inside of you, there was a discordant pang. You ignored it and slow blinked at the corner of the room above his head where a few strands of spider web swayed in the air-conditioning’s flow.

“You will fight,” Čiernik stated.

Sluggishly, you looked at him. He was pointing, rather comically, at the laptop where he’d switched to another tab. Bronze was depicted upon it, breathing to your relief but it looked to be a massive effort on his part. Head slumped over, he was held under the armpits by two gruff looking bastards. He’d been stripped to his under shirt, more brown than white around the tear where he’d been shot.

“You will fight,” repeated Čiernik as Price’s zip-ties came off.

As you returned your stare to your would-be opponent, Price mouthed something at you and he put up his hands, gesturing for you to come at him. You didn’t catch what he was trying to tell you. Instead your head, with its defences lowered, filled itself with memories of easier times, how Price always beat you in sparring. Closest you ever came was drawing, both of you pinned in a position of pain and neither of you tapping out until your commanding officer at the time demanded you both let go. He was the best. Best of the best.

Your left eye, stinging and sealed off, was throwing off your depth perception as you swayed on the spot, fists up. Čiernik’s crooked glee

Hit first and hit hard.

You landed a solid blow to the side of Price’s head, sending him stumbling. Bloody saliva fell from his lips, splattering onto the ground as you threw another punch and crushed his fingers beneath your boot. If he didn’t have a concussion from before, he definitely did now. Something stirred gleefully in your stomach at that.

Finally, he met your attacks with defence, locking you into a grappled and hunched over stance. You shook it off, trying to keep up the charade of fighting your friend. He wasn’t going easy but neither were you, smashing your skull heard into twice before he swung you around and onto the floor. Your feet skidded on the concrete like you were on ice.

“What the hell is this?” The authoritative American accent from across the room came through glitching as it emitted from shitty laptop speakers. Čiernik spun round to face the laptop.

“You bomb my men and think you can get away with it?” His sneering face moved close to the webcam’s lens, “You want them? You come and get them yourself.”

Then he muted the caller. But you’d already pieced together who it was and why Čiernik was Zoom-ing your forced fisticuff.

Two menforced you and Price to face one another, an inch apart like you were pitbulls in a ring, growling and snapping teeth, their hands tugging back your heads like leashes.

When you heard John on the radio, the day that he died, you knew how Orpheus felt in that split second of distrust and relief at seeing Eurydice there, just a fragment of time as he shouted down the radio then let out a cry and was cut off from you, sealing you apart with Price in the Underworld and you cursed to remain on the mortal coil forever. Now you were stuck in Purgatory together without a obol between you to get you out of here.

“I only need one Captain to make a deal with. Keep going.”

On Čiernik’s command, you were both released to continue the brawl. A high-pitched whine shot through your head as Price slammed his fist to your chin. His turn for “hit first and hit hard”, it would seem. Your trousers started sliding down your hips and you grasped at your arm where a rag replaced your makeshift tourniquet. Hiking the trousers back up, you launched yourself at him and swiped at his legs to knock him off his feet.

You should be biting his ear off or digging his eyes out, reshaping his face like it was made of clay beyond a few punches. Your teeth were gritted in your jaw in an attempt to satiate your sudden bloodlust. A burning desire to strike him over and over was stoked strong inside of you. But somehow you were holding back, and so was Price. Even as he got you in a headlock, breathing hard against your ear, spit splashing on your lobe, he could’ve done so much worse than the knee to the chest you received. Could’ve used his boots for a start or aimed for something more juicy, like where the sledgehammer had gotten you. It still hurt like a son of a bitch yet it could’ve been a direct hit. He was holding out hope, making you do the same, and it was putting you both in more danger.

Heard over a painful cry, the sound of the door flung open snatched your attention. A spewing smoke canister bounced off your bullet wound and onto the floor as you seized Price around the middle – away from a lunging Čiernik.

Unceremoniously, you were both hauled away from the smoke and into a blinding light.Your blurred vision pieced together Gaz and Crash barricading the door behind you. Bullets began denting the metal hull of the doorframe. You swung your head around to find Ghost, his hand just now removing itself from your shoulder – sore from how he’d yanked you in his rescue.  

“Good to see you,” He said casually.

Crash pushed a pistol into your hands, “It’s not just the villa. It’s every villa. They’ve taken the whole town.”

Brain barely blunted by the shortest capture you’d ever faced, you recalled those papers with postcodes and house numbers, the ones you’d walked past without a single indication that you were already within the trap.

No wonder your team only just managed to catch onto Čiernik; Shepherd clocked him first, made him more obvious by soaking up his spread of occupation on the border of Russia.

“Can you shoot?”

“Sky’s still blue, right?” You tucked in the earpiece Crash handed you next, “They’ve got Bronze. Ghost, you and Gaz will clear the way for us. We’ll scout ahead for where she could be. She lost a lot of blood back at Shepherd’s villa. Price, you and Crash will cover our backs. Have we got an exit plan in place?”

“Laswell’s sending reinforcements. New exfil is twenty klicks south-south-west of the original.”

You didn’t ask why Soap was absent, or if Chance had made it out. No time.Reinforcements were swarming on your location.

First two rooms were left vacant but recently let if the bloodstains dragged across the stonework were anything to go by. All following rooms required a spray of bullets before checking it, your wound stinging more and more. But the shackles on the walls and the array of weapons on call told you this was a torture floor, and you had to find Bronze-

“I’ve got Bronze!”

You lurched around at where Ghost had called from. He already had Bronze over his shoulder. Time to bounce.

Crash took over on the lead, continuing onwards rather than backtracking. More of Čiernik’s arseholes were thrown at you from the staircase above so you had no choice but to spill out into the streets. All hopes that civilians wouldn’t be caught in any crossfire died back when Crash had revealed the expanse of Čiernik’s real estate reach. Your only hope was the row of parked car outside the back door. You pressed against the front tire, scanning in the rear-view mirror (ripped off from the vehicle for convenience) for a potential way out. You had two seconds to view the street before the mirror sparked out of your hand, shattered by a high calibre bullet just as Price finished the barricade, giving you a minute to get out of dodge.

“Manhole,” You told Gaz with a nod of your head to the right.

Gaz nodded back, “Cover me; I’ll get it open.”

Brave bastard, you were tempted to steal him from Price as he dodged hellfire to crowbar open the manhole cover. Ghost, Price, and Crash covered him well enough whilst Bronze slumped up beside you

He slurred out, “Cap?”

“Keep going, Bronze. We’re nearly out.”

“Huh,” He leant his head on your shoulder, making you wince internally, “Feel like we’ve been nearly out for hours.”

One by one, your colleagues funnelled down the hole while you covered him.Even with your left eye out of action, you managed to nail the bastards hunting you down, even with Ghost’s hulking figure drawing attention as he lowered Bronze down, until it was time to drag over the manhole behind you.

Through the sewer system, surprisingly amazing brickwork curving overhead. It wasn’t worth a damn fragment of your attention, even if half the team weren’t dragging barely conscious through a miles of shite. The static around your arm spread up your neck at the stench surrounding your team.

“Bronze?” You called out ahead without coughing on the stench.

“Still hear, Cap.” It came out faintly but he was still conscious, thank fuck.

“Crash?”

“Still goin’.”

“Gaz?”

“Alright here.”

“Ghost?”

“Not broken.”

“Price?”

“Still standing.”

Within the hour, you were overground once more in the arse-end of Nemšiná, having added an extra two klicks onto the journey if your calculations were right.

So it was a respite you welcomed when a hijacked van skidded over to your team with a grinning Scotsman in the left-hand driver’s side. Still, no Second Lieutenant in the passenger seat.

Your team loaded on quick and got out of the town quicker. Soap swerved around and looped back on himself three times whilst you and Crash administered first aid on Bronze, sewing him up to the best of your abilities against a rocky road. Then you arrived at the new exfil point with a Chinook ready to take your Sergeant to the nearest hospital. A bag of A Positive and a needle welcomed him aboard and you bade farewell for now.

A phone was stuffed into your grasp by a soldier in uniform you took a second to recognise – Odristan Special Forces. Thankfully you recognised the caller ID faster and addressed General Fernandez the second your voice reached the received.

“You broken, Captain?” He asked.

“Fit for duty, sir.”

“Your black box did its job perfectly.”

“Any news on Chance?”

“She’s been getting the rest of Sierra team ready for the final push.”

“Any other updates I should be aware of? Or can I check in with the team?”

“You’re free to go. This is still your op; they’ll follow your command.”

Fresh from capture and still calling the shots, you felt quite pleased with yourself for that. However there was little time for that kind of thing before the so-called final stretch. There was however time for a power nap and an energy bar before you started planning anything.

The rest of Sierra were bundled into a large camo green tent nearby, cleaning their weapons, arm wrestling, talking in hushed voices. The second you entered one of their sightlines, they rippled in a wave of standing to attention, their feet stomping like falling dominoes – including Chance who stood out by the hand she held over her abdominal.

“At ease,” You said firmly, “Carry on. Chance, a word.”

She almost trotted over to you with a drone under her arm, her voice low beneath the chatter of your team behind you. “Captain. You look like shit.”

Ignoring her comment, you asked, “How’s the gut?”

“In pieces, but I’ll live. You still good to finish this?”

“If you’re my eye in the sky,” You gestured to the drone then to her stomach, “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“You too. Medical’s set up over there if you want to get yourself checked.”

You followed her suggestion. The last thing you needed was to charge into an assault then slipping on your own vomit, spinning in your nausea. And of course, the universe placed you in the bunk besides Price who was icing his jaw and his left knee.

He waited until you covered your left eye with an ice pack to speak: “You hit hard.”

“You hit like you’re riddled with arthritis.”

“Well, you did stand on my hand,” and Price held up his hand, wiggling his fingers to display the lack of tape and gauze. You hadn’t broken a thing.

That angered you more than anything that transpired in Čiernik’s basement. You channelled those sudden bubbles into a restrained reply:

“I’ll stamp harder next time.”

“And I’ll kick harder,” Price chuckled, leaning back into his ice pack. Against the plastic, you could see a faint purple amidst the red on his cheek.

How easily you were forgiven, it was almost insulting. Why couldn’t you do the same despite saying the contrary? Perhaps you could unpack that to your new therapist, that and your apparent fury that was just below the sealed surface that was still pushing up towards your throat. You swallowed hard as you fumbled in your pack for your spare watch. This was the final stretch. You just had to get through it then you could figure this out. Releasing the ice pack from your eye and laying back to balance it against your ribs, you rubbed at your wrist then slapped it with a sigh. Čiernik had stolen your watch.

_____________

AN: Thank you again for your patience with this! I'm writing during half term so this is nearly finished and I can't wait to share it.

In other news, I saw "Boys from the Blackstuff" on Thursday and it was brilliant! I love live theatre so to see such a stunning production was a real privilege. Bonus points were seeing Barry perform (I was shaking with how good he was). Not only did I paint him as Yosser, but I met him at stage door and got to give that painting to him! He was very kind to my starstruck ass. I'll never shut up about it lmaoo

______________

Tag-list: @mockerycrow and @entertain-my-lvst

#john price x reader #john price #captain john price x reader #john price fanfic #cod fanfic #mw2 fanfic #cod #mw2 #cod x reader #my writing #r: gn #wc: >2k

[dnotive]

I dunno if you got anon complaints, but it wasn't me. Here's my wall of text about The Topic At Hand.

I hate Apple because every time I wanted to use my phone to do something in high school, I found out that sorry, you can't do that on an iPhone because we don't like [winzip, flash player, a bunch of other things] and you're not allowed to use programs that don't come from the App Store. Also if you jailbreak your phone so that you CAN use it as a miniature computer, you void your warranty uwu. Also, I had an iPod touch gen 3 that I still use despite it being a bit slow because they absolutely lasted forever. I also got an iPod touch 6 that died a long time ago, but before it did, the iPod/Phone 7 had been released and Apple had figured out that if they push an update that makes the old tech slow, people will go "ugh, this is so slow, I should get a new one".

When they released the iPad with the same issues as the early gen phones + also no USB port and I was like "why are people buying this instead of literally any other tablet?" but people acted like it was a new, innovative, never-before-seen amazing thing when the first iPad really was just a shit tablet you couldn't do much with, but it had an apple logo and angry birds.

We also had both Windows and Macintosh computers at my high school and I never had problems with Windows because it was what I knew, but any time I tried to use the macs, I'd run into all sorts of compatibility issues with files saved on the Windows computers, so I just used my laptop instead. I was also getting into computer nerdery and looking to build my own PC and found out that Macintosh computers come pre-built and if you change literally anything yourself you void your warranty, which pushed me even harder against the company and all of its products. Oh, and the fact that a global standardisation went through that every phone company would use micro USB and Apple weaselled out of it by saying "ah, but we don't sell phones, we sell Personal Mobile Devices." And that they hold patents for things like the liquid metal they use to paint on the logo and even the patent for ROUND PIZZA BOXES and refuse to let anyone else use them just. Because. What a shit company. Anyway.

Nowadays I understand that some people prefer to use Macs for things like graphic design because they're allegedly better at it??? but all I see is compatibility issues for days, overpriced tech that you're not allowed to breathe on without voiding your warranty, and people who fangirl over the company's products because they're 'hip' and for no other reason. Their old products WERE good, which is why old Macs and iPods still sell for a TON of money, but I haven't seen them release a good product in a long-ass time.

Hey that's totally fine.

For the record, in my mind, the part of Apple that makes iphones and ipads is a totally separate entity than the one that makes their computers. You'll get no argument from me about their stupid power adapter debacle.

I've had macbooks for years as my daily-driver computers, but I own literally one iOS product, and that's an old ipad mini wall-mounted in my kitchen for home automation purposes. iOS devices are annoying in my experience, and as such I've only ever had Android mobile devices for daily use.

... and don't get me started on what a shitty-ass product the Apple TV is.

I understand the compatibility and customization argument in precisely the way I understand the cats vs. dogs argument.

If you were raised with dogs and have never been around cats or only tangentially experienced cats, you might point at a cat and go "what is this animal even good for? It doesn't come when I call it. It doesn't respond to its name. You have to scoop out a gross litter box at least twice a week. It doesn't even chase a ball half the time!"

All of which would be correct observations about owning a cat, but if you were to pivot from that to say something like "cats are useless and expensive, and everyone who has one has been tricked by clever marketing and branding to get one" you'd get people looking at you a little funny. We intuitively understand that cats and dogs are fundamentally different pets to experience.

In the same way, if you're a PC user who points at a Mac and says things like you have above, like "You can't even change any components yourself! You can barely play any games with it!" you're making the cardinal mistake of bringing Windows expectations into a Mac world, just as you'd be bringing Dog expectations into a Cat world for being indignant that you can't play fetch with it.

.. by your own admission here, "I never had problems with Windows because it was what I knew"

There is a LOT of crossover between the platforms for day to day tasks (web-browsing, word-processing, using shit like Office 365, doing live-streams, Telegram/Discord, etc. etc.) just as there is a lot of crossover between activities that cats and dogs can do (companionship, snuggling, entertainment, taking cute pictures to send to your mom) but the niche stuff is where things branch off.

I have a purpose-built Windows PC for music production and audio engineering because I needed to configure a custom sound interface and Windows PC's are excellently tailored to customization. Conversely, I use my Macbook for video-editing because MacOS is extremely stable and I can count on one hand how many times it's actually crashed or hung in all the years I've video-edited on it, even though I occasionally have to use a dongle, and can't crack it open myself to put more RAM in it.

In the case of the latter I consider that a worthy trade-off, just as I will gladly trade-off having a pet that won't play fetch with me in exchange for not having to let it outside when the windchill is -20 in the middle of February.

As an aside, also, the MacOS terminal behaves nearly the same way as a Linux terminal, so there are all kinds of hardcore Linux computer geeks who use Macs because the logic underneath the OS is the same. Just this past weekend I used the terminal to disable a couple of annoying security bits so I could install homebrew, WINE and a few other pieces - all called up and installed automatically using nothing more sophisticated than an oldschool text terminal, just like a Unix or Linux machine. Then I used the automator to create a custom executed batch file so I wouldn't have to re-enter terminal commands every time I wanted to call up a specific procedure.

It's why I stopped listening to people who simultaneously complain about MacOS being "too dumbed down" and "too hard to use" in the same breath; it can be just as complex and nerdy as you want it to be, and it can be just as streamlined as anything else if you really want it to be. Sitting on top of "fancy Unix" also means it's crazy stable.

... so for me at least, it has nothing to do with being "hip" - I have a hardcover case on my macbook so you can't even tell what it is anyway unless I open it up - and everything to do with being a good old-fashioned pragmatist.

#macbook post #ask

[carterashofficial]

The external terabyte hard drive that 99% of everything I’ve ever done is saved on is experiencing a “fatal hardware error”

Guess who’s a dumbass and doesn’t have any backup

Hint: same person who is mentally hyperventilating in case the data isn’t recoverable

#like this hard drive has writing from when I was 11 on it #old family photos that we don’t have the Original Copies of #7+ years of Art #a school project Bug did on me that she doesn’t know I have #and it was so sweet it made me cry and I look at it when I Need The Seratonin #the entire first draft of my novel #and all the concept art and part of the second draft #the other novels I’ve started #like everything is saved to that hard drive #oh also the laptop is 6 years old and starting to get slow #so #everything technology wise right now is on fire #I might scream into a pillow later

[angelmavmurdock]

The Boy Next Door

WARNINGS: SMUT, ORAL (fem+mal), DIRTY TALK, PRAISE, CHOKING, THIGH RIDING, MENTIONS OF DRUGS.

inexperienced!reader x stoner!tom

(inspired by Ginny and Georgia)

The new house was a lot bigger than our last house. But of course that's due to my mother marrying a man 30 years older than her who owns some workout company. She's a gold digger is what I'm trying to say. Ever since I can remember, whatever guy she was dating dictated where we would live, where my brother and I would go to school, what I'd wear, how I'd act and even what friends I had. Or, lack there of. Always being the 'new girl' was beginning to get exhausting so I never really had friends. If I gained any friends then I knew that we'd get close then I'd move and we'd stay in touch for about a month before they move on and forget about me.

y/n. Always the new girl.

"y/n would you help us, please?" Mum asked in an annoyed tone, brushing past me with a box in her hands.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, walking to the car and beginning to lift stuff out and into the house. It was a huge driveway - unnecessarily large - and everyone on the street was the same. Everyone in the town was the same. It was a rich, suburban area. No place I hadn't seen before but we definitely didn't belong. My Mum just shapeshifted into whoever she thought Greg would want. Greg being my 'step-dad'. He's 63. My Mum is 33. How is that even allowed.

We unloaded everything from the cars and waited on the trucks arriving with everything else. Cameron and I scuffed our shoes as we strolled through the huge house, taking in everything and familiarising ourselves with our new home.

"I'm so glad I'm not at school anymore because being in a class with snobby assholes like these people would be shit." Cameron said, crossing his arms as he gestured to the family across the road.

I walked over to him and watched too. A family of 5 - two girls, one boy, Mum and a Dad - were dressed rather nicely in dresses and suits. They came out of their house and waltzed to their Tesla nonchalantly with their noses in the air. The eldest girl looked around my age. She would probably be in some of my classes.

"I'm not looking forward to Monday." I groaned.

We stood in comfortable silence, watching the Tesla inquisitively as it drove off with the family inside.

"Trucks arrived!" Mum called from the front door.

We both shared our sibling look with one another then walked back out with reluctance. Mum was standing in the middle of the driveway with her hands on her hips, watching as Greg approached the van and signed some forms off. Cameron and I walked down and stood either side of her. She grinned and wrapped her arms around us, rubbing both our backs simultaneously.

"I've got a good feeling about this, guys." She took a deep breath.

"At least someone does." I remarked.

She ignored the comment and we watched Greg do practically nothing. I mean he was basically an ancient artefact.

"I've heard your new school is wonderful. The pass grade levels are insanely good and there's a lot of people there to befriend." Mum spoke positively.

"My last 6 schools also had a lot of people to befriend but of course, I always lose them because we move so bloody much." I clenched my jaw.

"Well...this time it's different."

I scoffed, "You always say that."

"I swear this time!"

"And that!"

"y/n I don't know what you want me to do. Greg is a great guy who is supporting us fully! I mean, look at this place! Surely you can't be mad we're living here." Mum shook her head, removing her arm from my waist.

"I'd rather live in a box with just you two than live in a huge house with some random guy in a town I hate." I argued then stormed away dramatically up the driveway.

I got into the house and slammed the door, grabbing the banister and stomping up the flight of stairs. There was one flight then a landing then another flight. This house was too bloody big.

I finally found what was meant to be my new room and slammed that door shut. Just for good measure. I huffed and sighed as I leaned my back against the white, wooden door.

The room was stark white and empty, only a bay window to give some character. I might hate Greg and my mother and this whole situation but I loved this bay window. I snaked in between the boxes and suitcases and sat on the wooden ledge. I kicked my shoes off before sitting my feet up and watching outside. My room faced the front of the house so I could see the movers offloading furniture and boxes off while Greg stood helplessly.

I groaned and leaned my head back, closing my eyes, just wanting to crawl into a shell and hide.

A slam of a car door forced my eyelids open and I jumped slightly.

"Where do you think you're going?!"

I heard a woman's voice from outside. I looked outside curiously, scanning the street with my eyes to find where the noise was coming from. It finally caught my eye and I had to sit up and switch sides of the window to look properly.

A red-headed woman and a curly headed boy were standing in the driveway.

Our next door neighbours apparently.

The boy was around my age, maybe a little older. He stumbled a little as he walked up the drive, his mother - I think - watching from behind her car door.

"I'm going to bed!" He shouted back.

"Not now you're not, you have to talk to me, Thomas!" She shouted, slamming her own car door.

Thomas.

He hung his head on his shoulders, "I need to sleep, mum."

"Well I just had to bail you out of jail for marijuana possession and use so you better talk to me."

Oof, I thought. He was a stoner. A criminal basically. But he was attractive from what you could see. Dark brown curly hair, tall enough, a sharp jawline, a good body from where I was sitting and a good style too - a hoodie with a denim jacket and jeans. But he was my neighbour. And a stoner.

"Mum can we just talk later?" He pleaded, running a hand through his hair.

"Tom we will talk about this right now." She said sternly.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning his back to her and walking away. I watched him with a slight smile. He really was attractive.

"Thomas Holland you get back here right now!" His mother shouted.

"When I'm not on drugs, I'll talk." He stated.

His mother stuttered then just grunted in annoyance, allowing him to go inside.

I kept my eyes on him, my smile still on my face as he started to walk into his house. He suddenly turned his head with a confused expression then looked up. Straight at me through my window.

I froze in shock, eyes widening, mouth parting. He slowly smirked and nodded his head at me before going inside.

I sunk off the window ledge in humiliation, snaking to the floor and mumbling how stupid I was and how embarrassing that was.

"y/n! Come meet your neighbour!" Mum shouted up.

My ears perked up then I leaped up to look out the bay window. The boy next door's mum was standing outside, chatting to my mum.

-

I hardly learned anything talking to his mum. Her name was Nikki Holland, she had a husband named Dominic who was a comedian and a writer. She was a photographer. Along with Tom - the oldest - she had three other sons: twins named Harry and Sam and then Paddy who was a good bit younger. I can't remember the exact age. My mum had nosily asked her about Tom and that was the only part I listened to.

"He's 18,"

"Dropped out of school last year,"

"Says he wants to be an actor,"

"Oh today? He got in trouble from the police about...you know what, that isn't important."

"You look so young to be a mother to a teenager. How old are you?"

"And you're 18, too?" "Still in school?" "What do you want to do?" "Ah, smart girl."

The conversation was brief and slightly awkward. She was clearly stressed about Tom and his situation so I slid out of the engagement pretty fast and escaped up to my room.

During the entirety of the weird conversation, the movers had put my bed, mattress and desk into my room. It felt a lot more homier.

-

It was the next night and I had finished dinner and immediately gone upstairs. I was not participating in any sort of 'family time'. I sat down on my bed and scrolled through my phone aimlessly.

A thump outside drew my attention away and I looked to my right at the regular window which faced our neighbours house.

I sat up and squinted to see out into the dark. It was Tom. He was halfway out his window.

I didn't even realise our windows faced each other. And here he was, one leg out the window and his other following on. He had thrown a backpack down which caused the dull thump on the grass - which I only assume contains weed - and now he was escaping his house.

I got out of bed and walked to the glass, peeking out to see what he was doing.

He climbed impressively down the wall and jumped the last few metres, landing in a Spider-Man like pose. Admirable, I thought as he picked up his back pack and slid a skateboard out from a bush. He brushed it off then slotted it under his armpit.

He was sporting a black t-shirt with a dog-tag necklace and some distressed deep blue jeans with a denim jacket over top and a baseball cap placed on backwards that sat on top of his curly head of hair.

He looked around in case he was going to get caught then looked up. Directly at me. Again.

This time I didn't shy away. I just made a gesture and mouthed 'what the fuck?' then he laughed to himself and looked back up at me.

'Don't be so nosy, neighbour', he mouthed.

I squinted and shook my head in disapproval. He just smirked boyishly then walked to his driveway where he flipped his skateboard and skated off into the night.

I gulped and sat back on my bed, feeling my heart rate slow back down.

But curiosity filled my brain.

Where was he going?

-

Just as Sunday night came around, I had finished decorating my room. My pictures and paintings hung on the wall, along with some mirrors to fill the blank space of the white walls. My bed was cosy and was filled with throw blankets, fluffy sheets and way too many pillows. My desk was organised and my laptop sat atop the white surface, making it look a lot more professional than I had anticipated.

I had turned my bay window into a reading nook. A few blankets lay on the ledge and a couple pillows too, along with my current read.

I had seen Tom sneak out a few nights ago but I tried to stay away from the regular window, only ever sitting on the bay one because I couldn't see Toms room from there.

However, it didn't shield me from him completely.

I would see him outside in their front garden playing games with his brothers and sometimes I'd watch them from just over the top of my book. The way he played with their dog was cute. I had gathered her name was Tessa and I knew she was a staffy because we used to have one. He'd throw balls or sticks for her and sometimes she'd clamber on top of him with excitement. He'd dodge her licks but still clap her because she was excited after all.

Every once in a while he'd catch me looking down at him or I'd catch him looking up at me. Whenever it happened, it seemed as if everyone and everything disappeared. Like it was just us. Tunnel view. But then one of us would look away or stick the middle finger up or mouth 'fuck off'. Our unusual and silent rivalry was the closest thing to a friend I'd had in years.

But now, Mum, Greg and Cameron were going out to a nice dinner to celebrate the first week of living here. I thought it was an incredibly stupid idea so I decided to stay home alone and eat pizza.

They all left and Cameron immediately texted me.

Cammando: I hate you for leaving me

y/n: your fault not mine :)

I didn't really know what to do. I walked around the house and asked Alexa to play some songs but I couldn't be bothered dancing. I wasn't really in a dancing mood.

I just gave up and went back upstairs into my room. My windows were still open so before I got changed I went to close them and put down the blinds. I closed the bay window and then I went to the next one.

I looked straight ahead into Toms room and my jaw dropped.

He was hopping and hyping himself up in front of a punch bag...shirtless with gloves on. I watched as he punched the bag skilfully, moving his feet as if it was a choreographed routine. His damp curly hair hung onto his forehead and I could see glimpses of airpods in his ears. His back muscles tightened and flexed as he threw punches.

He moved around the bag and now I could see the front of him. He had a very visible six pack. I definitely didn't expect that from the stoner boy next door. If I thought he was attractive before...now I don't even know what I would call him.

Otherworldly, perhaps?

He suddenly looked up and I gasped, turning and slamming my back against the wall next to the window, wincing at the pain. Hopefully he didn't see me...

It was creepy to be staring at him. I shouldn't have done it.

I peeked back and he was back to beating the poor punch bag.

God, he was so hot.

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and ears, burning with lust. I gulped and looked away, closing the blind to stop myself from looking anymore.

I got changed into shorts and a burgundy Cambridge University jumper that used to belong to my Dad. He gave it to me the first time he properly left for a while and I still have it even though I see him more often.

I hopped downstairs and played some music while I sorted the pizza and chips out to eat.

I sat and ate while listening to music. Once I was finished, I cleaned everything up then went back upstairs into my room, shutting the door behind me and jumping onto my bed.

I scrolled through tiktok aimlessly, just filling the time before it was an acceptable hour to go to bed as a teenager.

I switched apps to Instagram when I lay on my side, my back facing my windows. I scrolled through for a while but a certain picture caught my eye.

I had to blink a few times to really look.

It was my so called 'best friend' who I hadn't talked to since I moved twice after befriending her and my ex-boyfriend. My ex. My only boyfriend I've ever had. My first kiss, my first date...my first time. My only time. We only had sex twice. Three if you count foreplay but I faked it. Actually I faked it all of the times. He was never good at it and I had no idea how to go about telling him because to be honest, I had no idea what to do either.

But my ex-best friend and my ex-boyfriend? She didn't even tell me. She didn't even think to ask me.

They were dressed nicely and holding each other's waists. It looked a little awkward but most of those pictures are because they are being taken by parents.

I looked through the comments.

OMG! Hot couple alert! You two are the cutest just marry already yall are too happy it's been the best year of my life baby

"WHAT?!" I exclaimed, sitting up sharply.

They had been together for a YEAR.

"Ugh!" I groaned and threw my phone across my room, hearing it basically break against the wooden floor.

"Rough night?" A voice spoke from my window.

I screamed, jumping with fear and successfully landing my ass on the floor.

I panicked and grabbed the first thing I could use as a weapon. A glass of water. It would have to do.

I quickly flung the water at the intruder, "WHAT THE FUCK, GET OUT!" I screamed, my eyes closed tightly in fear.

I heard the water splash over them but they still came in. I just threw the glass at them. It thumped against them dully and then crashed onto the floor.

"Ouch."

I slowly opened one eye and looked up at the figure who had just entered my room.

It was Tom.

He was in a grey t-shirt and black basketball shorts with a baseball cap placed on backwards, a backpack thrown over his shoulder.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING CLIMBING INTO MY ROOM?!" I shouted, standing up.

He was taller than me by a few inches but we were basically at eye level.

"I was clearly looking for some company but you then threw water over me and then a literal glass." He spoke calmly, wiping a hand over his wet face.

"How the hell are you being so calm about this?! You just intruded into my home!" I exclaimed.

"Well, darling, I have a thing called weed. It's great for calming you down. You clearly need some." He slung his bag around and went to open it.

"W-what? No, I'm not smoking weed!"

He sighed and slung his bag back, "Well, why are you being so uptight about this I just wanted to say hello." He smiled boyishly.

I licked my teeth in annoyance. He was so fucking attractive but he was so fucking annoying and I didn't even know him.

"You need to get out. I didn't invite you in here so you are not welcome." I stated, crossing my arms.

"Okay, yes. But also- my mother nearly just caught me sneaking out so it's a cover if she comes round here."

"Why would she come here?" I asked.

"Because she's a mad woman who hates me having a life apparently."

"You're an 18 year old who sneaks out of the house to smoke weed. I wouldn't call that a life." I remarked.

He smirked, "You know what, I like you."

He sat his bag down then started to walk slowly around my room, inspecting my pictures and decorations intricately.

I stuttered, not knowing how to react to this whole situation.

"I'm sorry, what the hell are you doing?" I asked, brows furrowed.

"You're quite an interesting person, I must say."

I sighed and shook my head at the ceiling.

"Ah, this makes sense." He picked up one of my camera's.

I scoffed, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He sat it down and picked up the next one, shrugging with a smug smirk.

"You like looking at things."

I gulped, red rushing to my cheeks.

"Clearly very beautiful things." He said, referring to my pictures on the walls.

"I'm just honoured I'm one of them."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, "You wish you were."

"Oh but I am, aren't I?" He challenged, sitting my camera down.

I licked my back teeth and watched with heavy breath as he paced towards me slowly.

"I've never taken a picture of you before." I said matter-of-factly.

"You might not have but you definitely love a good stare, don't you?" He asked, his left eyebrow quirked cockily.

I noticed the unusualness of it and then looked into his dark, dilated eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I said quietly.

He laughed lowly, "So you weren't staring at me earlier when I was working out?"

I stuttered as we came face to face.

"You're stubborn but I feel like I know you," He placed his fingers under my chin, tracing up my jaw and to my ear where he tucked some of my hair behind.

"Because I've been looking at you, too." He whispered.

I practically melted and a whimper left my mouth, eyes rolling back.

He chuckled, "Already needy for me I see."

I looked up at him as his thumb swiped over my lips.

This whole situation was insane. I didn't even know how we got here. I didn't know how to feel, either. I had never been turned on like this before.

He slowly pushed his thumb into my mouth and I moaned around it, tasting his skin.

"Good girl." He praised, taking his thumb out and replacing it with his tongue.

I moaned again, feeling his lips on mine. His hands gripped my waist and I tangled my fingers into his hair.

He tasted of weed but I didn't mind it at all. He pushed me backwards until I hit the wall next to my bed. He gripped my hips tightly and I kept my hands in his hair. He must have gone for a shower since his workout because he smelled fresh and clean and his hair was damp.

I couldn't believe I was doing this. I was kissing a stranger. Who climbed into my room.

"Wait-" He pulled away briefly.

"Is your family home?" He asked.

"No, they're out all night." I answered breathlessly.

He smirked, "Good."

He suddenly lifted me up and I squealed, automatically wrapping my legs around his taut torso.

His tongue slipped between my lips again and I welcomed it. He lay me down on my bed and started to kiss down to my jaw and my neck.

I gasped and tugged his hair when he started kissing a certain spot on my skin. He got the message that I liked it and started licking and sucking on it. I arched my back slightly, moaning as he worked his tongue and lips on my skin.

He left the spot on my neck but kissed over my skin as he started to lift my jumper up. Panic and nerves suddenly settled in and I grabbed his hands, stopping his movements.

"You alright?" He asked breathlessly.

I swallowed, "I uh...I've never-"

His eyes widened, "You're a virgin?"

"No, no. I've had sex it just...it just wasn't that great." I bit my lip nervously.

He encased my lips in his and I relaxed to his touch.

"Do you want to?" He asked against my lips.

"Yes, fuck yes." I practically moaned into his mouth.

"I just need you to guide me through it." I said in between kisses.

He pulled away, "I can do that." He smiled.

He started to lift my jumper off and this time I let him. I sat up and he removed it, throwing it off the bed. He admired the pink bralette I was wearing and immediately pressed his lips and tongue to the valley of my breasts. He nipped and sucked on my skin and I moaned as he palmed one of my boobs while leaving marks on the other.

He came back up and kissed me again but flipped us over so I was now on top. He sat up and shuffled back against my headboard and pulled me onto his lap.

He brushed my hair off my shoulders and cupped my chin, taking me in.

"D'you wanna try riding my thigh?" He asked lowly.

I gulped, "S-sure."

He smirked and I straddled his left thigh, holding his shoulders.

"Just rock your hips back and forwa-"

"Fuck," I moaned, the rubbing of the different materials causing my core to clench.

"Does that feel good?" He asked, his breath fanning over my face.

His hands rested on my hips and he helped my movements.

"Feels so good." I moaned.

"Yeah? You like riding my thigh?" He prompted, his hands making me speed up.

I fisted the material of his shirt in my hands as my mouth fell agape with pleasure.

"Riding my thigh like such a good girl." He praised.

"Fuck!" I hung my head back, his words going straight to my core.

He chuckled cockily, "D'you like when I call you that? Huh?"

I nodded, too flustered with these new senses of pleasure to speak.

His hand travelled up into my hair and tugged on it by my roots. A louder moan than I would have liked escaped my lips.

"I asked you a question, answer me." He said sternly.

"Fuck! Yes, I love it when you call me that." I answered pathetically.

"Good girl." He praised, letting go of my hair and rocking my hips on him.

I felt an immense amount of pleasure build up and it felt as if something was going to snap in me.

"Oh shit, I- fuck!" I furrowed my brows in concentration and confusion.

"R'you gonna cum, darling?" He asked, almost shocked.

"I don't- fuck - know!" I moaned, feeling the knot inside my stomach about to snap.

But before that could even happen I was being flipped back onto my back and Tom was ripping off my shorts and panties, diving in between my legs with lust.

His hands held my thighs and brought me closer to him. His lips attached to my clit and sucked, giving me a whole new feeling.

"Oh, fuck! Yes! Yes!" I moaned shamelessly, tugging his hair and fisting the bedsheets.

"Go on, darling. Cum in my mouth for me. Taste so good. Please, love."

The mixture between his words and his nicknames for me and the fact his mouth was working wonders on my core completely sent me over the edge: an experience I had never had before.

"Holy shit! Tom! Yes!" I subconsciously tightened my thighs around his head and my hands practically pushed him completely onto me.

He continued riding me through my high until I unclenched my thigh and he pulled away slowly.

I lay breathless and in a state of shock and euphoria at the same time.

"You okay?" He asked soothingly, rubbing his hand over my bare thigh as he came up to kiss me.

"Yeah I've...I've never-"

"You've never came before?" Tom asked, baffled by me.

"Nope..."

He kept his eyes on me but slipped a hand down to my core again. I bucked my hips against his hand with a gasp as he moved his fingers in circles over my core.

"You've never even touched yourself?" He asked lowly.

I bit my lip and shook my head.

"You're so wet for me, darling, fuck." He cursed.

He suddenly dipped a finger into my core and I moaned. He curled it up and I gripped his arm tightly.

"What d'you want?" He asked.

"I want you, Tom, please." I bit my lip.

He smiled and sat back, his hand coming away from my clit, leaving me feeling empty. He shed his shirt and I finally got to look at his chiselled torso up close. He then slid his shorts and boxers off and my jaw dropped at the sight of him.

He was semi-hard but he was already bigger than my ex. A lot bigger.

He pumped his member in his hand, "You sure about this?"

I stuttered, completely distracted by his actions than his words.

"What? You like the look of it? Hmm? Wanna suck me off?" He asked, his hand cupping my chin and sliding his thumb into my mouth again.

I moaned at his words and nodded.

"You want to suck me off, darling? You sure?" He asked, removing his thumb.

"Yes, fuck Tom, I wanna suck you off." I moaned.

"Good girl." He praised.

We switched positions so he was sitting against the headboard and now I was in between his legs.

"I don't know how to..." I said shakily.

"You're okay," He gathered my hair up in his hands.

"Do whatever feels natural and I'll tell you if it's good, yeah?"

I nodded and gulped, moving my mouth closer to his member. I pumped him in my hand a few times and I could almost feel him harden right there. I had done this part before, at least.

I lowered my mouth onto him, swirling my tongue around his lip. He hissed slightly and gripped my hair tighter. I slowly let my mouth down on him and came back up.

"That's it, good girl." He praised.

I moaned and continued bobbing my head slowly on him, finding a rhythm. I held his thigh for support as I got faster, easing into it.

"Fuck, darling, feels so good." He groaned.

The taste of him in my mouth was amazing, pre cum already escaping onto my tongue.

I slackened my jaw and took as much of him as I could then pumped the rest in my hand.

"Holy shit! Fuck!" He held my head there and thrusted up.

His member hit the back of my throat but I didn't mind it at all. He made sure I was okay then did it again. And again. And again. Until he was continuously throat fucking me. I enjoyed it, surprisingly. The obscene sounds my mouth was making was not only making Tom more aroused, but also me.

I felt some drool drip down from my mouth onto my chin and even onto his lower stomach but I didn't care.

"Fuck, love those pretty little sounds coming from your throat, baby." He groaned.

I moaned, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"Such a good girl."

But then he pulled me off of him. I looked at him in confusion but he flipped me onto my back sooner than I could say anything.

"Need to be in you before I cum, princess." He said, kissing me deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth.

"Ready?" He asked.

I felt his tip brush up and down my folds. I gripped his arms and nodded, closing my eyes to concentrate.

"Hey, look at me." He said.

I looked up into his gorgeous chocolate eyes.

"Breathe in," He instructed.

I did as he said.

"And out."

As I breathed out, he pushed into me slowly.

I moaned and arched my back at the feeling of him inside of me. His technique worked.

"You okay?" He asked caringly.

I nodded, biting my lip.

"You can move."

He started thrusting slowly in and out of me, my arousal making it a lot easier for him to move.

"So fuckin' tight, darling." He cursed.

I wrapped my thighs around his waist and he bottomed me out.

"Yes!" I moaned, my back arching so our chests were touching.

"Does that feel good?" He asked.

I hummed, "Faster, please."

He smirked, "As you wish."

His thrusts got gradually faster and my mouth hung open in a silent moan. He brushed past my g-spot with every movement and I scraped his back with my finger nails.

"So fucking good," I gasped.

He sped his thrusts completely and his head fell into the crook of my neck, leaving sloppy kisses on my skin.

"So big! Yes!" I moaned pornographically as he perfectly met my g-spot.

He reached a hand down and started rubbing my clit in skilful circles. I screamed out in overwhelming pleasure as I felt the now familiar feeling come back in my stomach.

"So good for me, darling. Been such a good girl. You gonna cum?" Tom whispered his praises into my ear.

"So close! Oh my god!" I curled my toes and dug my fingernails into his back.

"Come on darling. Feel so good around my cock. Feel so fucking good. You're a fucking angel, y/n. Fuck." He moaned.

I rolled my eyes back at his words. God his words.

"I'm gonna cum!" I squealed, eyes squeezing shut.

"Look at me when you cum, love."

I could hardly hear his voice anymore as I felt my second high approaching.

"I said-"

I gasped as I felt his hand around my throat, pressing the sides of my neck, activating some unknown pleasure button.

"Look at me when you cum all over my fucking cock." He grunted, his dark, dilated eyes staring into mine.

I kept my eyes on him as my high began to wash over me. His thrusts kept the same pace but his fingers moved faster, spurring my orgasm along.

"Yes! Fuck, feels so- yes!" I moaned.

I was extremely loud, I'm surprised the police hadn't come knocking asking about it.

My high seemed to be everlasting. Tom began to pull out but I kept my legs wrapped around him.

"Want you to cum in me, Tom. Please." I begged.

"You sure?" He asked, holding his orgasm back.

"Yes! Please! Need your cum in me." I moaned seductively against his lips.

"Fuck- so good for me- yes!"

I felt as he stilled in me, and as his cum painted my walls. His face contorted in levels of pleasure as he finished and I was finally coming down from my own high.

He pulled out after a second and collapsed next to me.

We both lay together, not saying a word, just listening to each other's breathing calm.

After a minute or two, he turned to face me.

"That- was so fucking good." He laughed.

"It was." I smiled back.

He reached a hand over to my face and brushed my hair behind my ear. I softened into his touch and hummed.

But that bliss was broken quickly.

"Hello?! We're home!"

I gasped, shooting up on my bed.

"Is that your mum?!" Tom whisper shouted.

"Yes! You need to go like now!" I whispered back.

He scurried off the bed and into his boxers and clothes, shakily putting on his shirt and attempting to put his shoes on quickly but leaving them untied.

I grabbed his backpack and handed it to him.

"Thank you," He smiled, taking it from me and heading for the window again.

He swung a leg out but then hesitated.

"Oh and uh-"

He held his hand out.

"I'm Tom, by the way." He grinned.

I smiled, shaking his hand.

"I'm y/n. Nice to meet you, neighbour."

"Nice to meet you, too." He winked, before climbing out the window, down the wall and back into his own house.

Nice to meet you indeed.

-

A/N: this is written for my amazing friend Caitlin and it's her birthday today! and she gave me all the details for this piece so i hope you guys enjoyed!

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland one shot #tom holland au #tom holland smuts #Smut #tom holland smut #stoner au #innocent au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #fluff #ginny and marcus #oneshot

[shierak-inavva]

card signs

pairing: peter parker x f!reader

warnings: some swearing? can’t think of anything else here

summary: reader has a slow day to herself, and receives some strange information--but you can’t take things at face value, can you?

notes: okay this is...kinda long LMAO i got caught up in reader!POV this time, and we get some insight into reader’s personal life. it’s a big struggle for me not to go big on details oh my god, but i’m trying to keep descriptions a little more ambiguous so yall can imagine what you like u wu;; i also didn’t go SUPER in-depth with her readings, so take that as you will. the tea and coffee i talk about, though, are both blends i use personally ; w; this is part 3 of this little series, here’s part 1 & part 2 !

              --------------------------------------------------

Morning found snow trying very hard to flurry up on her fire escape, and [Y/N] burrowing into her blankets a little more before accepting wakefulness. Fuzzy black slippers that had seen better days shuffled across the old thrifted rugs on her hardwood floors, black hem of her robe sweeping along behind her as she headed for the kitchen. Today was a research day; which meant rather than her usual 6 AM wakeup time, she’d gotten an extra two hours of sleep and could take some time to herself for the day—and that meant her coffee routine, first and foremost.

On her way out of her room, however, something made her stop, glancing at one of her old shelving units. Her eyes found the deck of cards resting there, and she took a breath, considering. It had been…not quite a week, but something was telling her to draw, and so, yawning and ruffling her hair a little, she shuffled over to the shelves and breathed deep, shutting her eyes. Just an impromptu read. She’d been lax about daily reads for months now, but it couldn’t hurt, and she knew better than to ignore intuition. A brief shuffle of her deck, and she exhaled long and slow, slipping a card out and opening her eyes again. The Moon. [Y/N] blinked, looking at it. Upright, plain as day. Or, night, she guessed. But The Moon? Her brow knit slightly as she studied the card. The Moon wasn’t a bad thing, just…maybe this was about her hangups with her relationship? Maybe it was her thinking this was romantic, but that was one-sided? Was she afraid of that? Or…her eyes focused on the pale moon in the illustration of the card. Or was there something she wasn’t seeing, something deeper going on that she wasn’t aware of yet? She chewed at her lip a little and slipped the card back in the deck, digging through one of her cases for one of her bigger columns of quartz, settling it on top of the deck and murmuring a thank you as she glanced over a few of her little devotional setups, mind still on the moon. Maybe she’d meditate on this later. For now, she pocketed a piece of smoky quartz and slipped out of the room.

The apartment was chilly; she clicked the heater up just a little for the day and booted up her laptop on her kitchen island, bringing up some morning news—something she’d only recently taken to checking, but she saw a photo of Spider-Man on one of the first article preview slides and smiled, recalling why she’d started checking in the first place. The kitchen warmed up as she made her coffee in her old moka pot and warmed up a lemon poppyseed muffin from yesterday. Today she’d decided to go through some older books and stay in, though…her eyes wandered to her phone, and she wondered if she’d hear from Peter. They’d been on a few dates the past three weeks, mostly just impromptu coffee dates when they had time, he’d gotten her to try his favorite pizza joint and they’d gone to a greek place she hadn’t been to in years, but these past few days had been so busy she hadn’t been over to Queens at all, and now on her chill day she wondered if maybe she should text him to ask about his schedule. They weren’t…officially dating. At least, not…they hadn’t talked about it. She wondered if that was a normal thing. Did you discuss your dating status? She really liked Peter, really liked his goofy smiles and his honest eyes and the way he always seemed like he was trying so hard to do things right. She’d been trying to drop hints that she wanted an actual relationship, but…maybe she should just outright tell him? Her nose wrinkled a little as she set a coffee mug on the countertop. Maybe she was thinking too hard about this. Still… [Y/N] poured some of the fresh coffee into her cup, and glanced at her vintage spice rack, with its glass canisters and the little bronze lids with old labels on them. Her fingers hovered over the little bottle of juniper syrup or the almond powder or even the cloves she usually went for, and she glanced at the bottles of ground cinnamon and then cardamom—and for a moment she reached for the latter, but stopped, shaking her head a little and taking a breath before tugging the cinnamon off the rack. “Just a pinch,” she mumbled to herself, tapping a bit of the rich brown powder into her coffee. A little sprinkling of brown sugar, and she sighed to herself before quickly popping a single clove into the little cup and stirring clockwise. Nothing too much. Maybe Peter would call her. This wasn’t her forte—attracting love?? Her grandmother was probably cackling to herself seeing this. A little grudgingly, she settled onto one of her barstools in front of her laptop, and huffed, tasting the coffee. Of course it tasted good.

                --------------------------------------------------

Mid-morning was misting some of her plants, setting up her study space on the rug of her living area. Some tea to give her focus,  a few of her books from last week still out around her, and some of her research notebooks were still out and open to where she’d left off. Her studying playlist was going as she tugged one of her older books over to her on the rug, settling in with it. This wasn’t…exactly ‘traditional’ science, but why not try her options? More often than not the physical and metaphysical aligned, and she knew she’d seen some illustrations that might prove helpful or at least relevant in this when her grandmother had had it.

But, a few hours later, and she still hadn’t found anything she’d set out to. She’d exchanged a few texts with someone from her chem class, had sent an email to the lab in case they needed her on call later, and had taken a handful of notes on moon cycles and travel patterns, and was now on her back on her rug, contemplating going out on her own anyways. Peter was probably working. Or sleeping. He always seemed like he needed more rest; she’d introduced him to melatonin and lavender, but she had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t really doing anything with that knowledge. [Y/N] got up, after a few minutes. He hadn’t called, she had a day to do whatever she wanted, and she was going to go out and get some of those empty tea sachets because she was going to make a tea blend for Peter. Who was possibly her boyfriend. Tea for her maybe not boyfriend. She gave herself a withering look in the bathroom mirror as she finished up her eyeliner, but then a somewhat alarming thought hit her: she’d never been this invested in a relationship with someone before. What if this was…was like actually something? Love at first sight was bullshit, wasn’t it, but it had been a few weeks now, and… She slammed her makeup cabinet shut a little harder than she’d intended to, and ducked out of the bathroom without looking at her reflection again.

               --------------------------------------------------

She hoofed it to the shops, in spite of the cold. The flurries from that morning hadn’t stuck around, but it was overcast and cold. [Y/N] knew plenty of people along the way, people who waved or nodded. She’d grown up here with her grandmother, most of these people had known her since she was a kid. Ms. B, with her dog—the third pekinese she’d owned to date—Mr. Petrovik, arguing with one of the mailmen but taking a moment to wave at her. She headed down Bleecker towards MacDougal and gave a little bow of her head to Mr. Wong, who was stepping out of the townhouse, and he waved back as he trotted down the stoop. “Too cold to walk today!” he admonished cheerfully, and she rubbed at her nose a little. “I don’t mind it.” On the sidewalk waiting for him was Dr. S, who looked a bit more gray in the temples than she remembered. “You’ll mind being sick later,” he quipped, but it was mostly amiable. [Y/N]’s lips curled up slightly as she passed them. “I’ll come stop by for a consultation if I catch a cold, then.” “Not that kind of doctor!��� He called after her, and she just snickered to herself, continuing on. “Then I’ll just die, I guess!”

              --------------------------------------------------

Mama Paola’s shop was situated between a pizza parlor and a tea shop, and was welcomingly warm inside. [Y/N] shivered a little as the bell on the door jingled on her way in, and a moment later, Mama P’s big gray cat came prowling around the corner of shelves to see who’d entered. [Y/N] stepped over him and gave him a scritch when he hopped up onto the shelf next to her, meowing almost chastisingly for her not immediately greeting him. “I see you, Pepito,” she murmured, scanning for what she needed, and the cat followed along until Mama P herself came sweeping in from the back, all colorful patterns and the deep smell of orange and spice. “My love! Oh, I knew you would come to see me today, mia cara!”

Mama Paola got her settled with everything she’d come in for (plus some whole chamomile flowers, which she insisted upon for this, and some fresh lavender that she tucked into her bag because ‘it’s better, it’s what you need, you take it from me!’ and really there was no arguing with Mama P) but before she could leave, the older woman stopped her.
 “Let me look at you,” she said slowly, looking [Y/N]’s face over, taking her chin in her hand and tilting her head this way and that. “Mm, I thought so.” [Y/N] raised an eyebrow. “What?” Mama P smiled, her crow’s feet etching into her aged face deeper. “You like this boy very much, hm? You’re taking breaks from working!” [Y/N] went a little pink, chewing her lips, but Mama P nodded, satisfied, and let go of her chin to pat her cheek affectionately. “Good. You never came to me for a boy before—“ for a moment, the older woman studied her pensively, and then: “Let me read for you, hm?” And before she could say anything, she was at the counter and Mama P had her own old, worn tarot deck out, shuffled, and had [Y/N]’s hand on the stack. [Y/N] took a breath, focusing. She hadn’t had anyone read for her in months—let alone Mama P. There was some apprehension in her now, some amount of wondering ‘what if something’s wrong?’ Her mind flashed back to The Moon from that morning, and she tried to still her nerves. Mama P laid the cards into a formation to read, and slowly turned them over, one by one. “The Ace of Cups,” she smiled, nodding, “This new love is a good start for you.” Her lips twisted some when she turned the next card. “The Hanged Man. This boy of yours is self-sacrificing.” Her eyes went to the paper bag in [Y/N]’s grasp, “But I think you noticed that already.” The next card made her brow knit, and [Y/N]’s along with it. “VII of Swords.” [Y/N]’s breath caught as Mama Paola spoke, “Something is being hidden, but I sense there is a great difficulty with it. There is weight to this,” she met the younger woman’s eyes and tapped a magenta-nailed finger on the center of her forehead, “But be mindful that things are not always as they seem. Sometimes we do not hide things out of malice, but out of love.” [Y/N] swallowed hard, nodding, eyes following Mama P’s fingers as she turned another card. “The Magician. You, mia cara—take heart from this one. You know the Magician; you take what you can grasp and you use it to create what you desire. The Magician knows that through their own will, anything can be accomplished.” She nodded sagely, turning the next card. “The II of Pentacles. Both of you share this resilience. You will be able to adapt to changes together.” But the final card made [Y/N]’s throat constrict a little. “The Tower,” she breathed out, and Mama P nodded. “Something is coming. There will be great changes—“ she reached across the glass countertop and rested an old, tanned hand on one of [Y/N]’s. “Change is good, my love. You know the Arcana, they have taught you, too: beginnings can only come from endings. Sometimes, we must raze the land for the new flowers to grow.”

               --------------------------------------------------

[Y/N] was so distracted on her way home she nearly got clipped by a bike courier twice; dropped her bag once, and then dropped her keys outside of her apartment building, almost in the storm drain. She realized, once she’d gotten inside again and gotten her layers off that she’d also missed a call from Peter, and a text too.

peter📷 : Hey! Busy day today, wanna get a bite later?

It was enough to make her smile, finally, and she settled onto her old sofa to tap out a reply.

me: sounds perfect. you pick the place?

peter📷 : Okay, but you owe me, I picked last time too.

me: put it on my tab.

peter📷 : How about a burger place? There’s a diner near me that’s open late.

[Y/N] nodded to herself, thinking. He didn’t know where she lived just yet; she could just get a taxi if it got late enough. At some point she’d have him over, she just felt a little bad telling him she’d been coming over from Manhattan every time they met up. It was about a half hour over to the coffeeshop they liked, which wasn’t horrible at least.

me: as long as it’s hot and bad for you then i’m in

peter📷 : You can’t say it like that, now I feel like it’s a horrible idea

me: if a burger isn’t greasy enough to k ill you then what’s the point

peter📷 : Okay, our next dinner has to be something healthy.

They decided to meet at 8; which gave her an hour or two to prep, and she used it to mix up a tea blend and get it poured into the little tea bags she’d bought earlier. Lavender, chamomile, a little valerian, a little almond, and a tiny bit of lemon balm. Not a fix-all, but it might at least help him relax; she used this same blend to help herself fall asleep from time to time. The little personalized tea bags were tucked into a silk sachet, and then into her bag, and she was on her way to dinner.

              --------------------------------------------------

Taking the metro got her almost to where they’d planned to meet up. It was colder at night; she’d added another dark layer to her clothes and bundled up in one of her massive knit scarves, tucking it over her mouth and nose as she headed down the sidewalk. She had maybe three blocks to walk; which really wasn’t bad, all things considering, and she’d be maybe a little early, even. She could give Peter this tea, they’d get to talk—maybe she’d bring up their relationship, finally; but was that a good idea? She was second guessing things after today, but at the same time, she needed to be more confident in her own intuition… She rounded the corner up ahead, and narrowly missed being clocked by a brick.

[Y/N] stumbled back in shock, the huge concrete block swiping past her and then back again, dragged through the air on a thread. Now she heard the screaming, which…it occurred to her, standing there on the sidewalk, that she should have heard this around the corner, but now she was in the thick of what looked like…maybe a bank robbery? What was this building? The entire side of it had been blown out, and now there was some guy in a massive metal suit yelling things and swinging his arms around at— “Hey! You need to get out of here!” People were running, and Spider-Man, perched on top of the armored man like he was on a mechanical bull, was yelling at her to leave. Yeah that—that was probably a good idea; the metal-suit guy was stumbling around trying to get the superhero off of his armor, and in doing so was flailing and knocking into parked cars and lamp posts, and then into another building. This was a lot more destruction than she’d pictured for a fight with Spider-Man, but then, she’d never actually run into any of this anyways. Some part of her was fascinated by it, watching the masked hero zip around on his webbing and beat the metal suit around. [Y/N] hurried to duck behind a car, and fumbled for her camera, rushing to try and get a shot or two of this, digging in her bag to grab it out. The cops had showed up by now, sirens blaring, and Spider-Man was still at it with the armor guy, but then he webbed the suit’s helmet and one of the arms to one of the legs, and the suit started to stumble backwards—right into the car she was behind. Metal crunched, and she’d tried to turn and run, but when she thought she’d be crushed, she was in the air, watching the metal suit flail a little pitifully on top of what had been a red sedan, looking like a turtle on it’s back. “Whoa.” “Hey—you coulda got yourself flattened, you know!” And holy shit, Spider-Man was holding onto her, swinging them away. [Y/N] blinked in shock, staring at his masked face, the eyes of his suit almost unnervingly big. “Wow. I could have died,” she blurted out, looking back down—they were suspended off of a gargoyle on one of the buildings now, maybe four stories up. He was startlingly strong for someone who looked as lithe as he did in the suit. “Yeah, you could have—are you okay??” He sounded more concerned than she expected, but she was focused on her bag now, hands feeling around inside and trying not to jostle her savior. “I’m fine—shlt!” “That doesn’t sound fi—“ “—I dropped it! Listen, I dropped something important—can you take me back there??” “What??” “I don’t even know where we are right now—I’m supposed to be meeting my boyfriend, and I had something for him and I dropped it—please! I need to get back there!” There was a pause as Spider-Man looked at her, and she wished she had some idea what he was doing behind the mask—nobody mentioned how weird it was to be talking to someone whose face you couldn’t see at all—and then they were moving again, and she wasn’t entirely sure she liked this ‘swinging’ thing. “This guy must be pretty special—“ Spider-Man sounded…pleased? And then settled her on the balcony of a hotel on the corner of where the whole fight had taken place. “Just stay put, okay? What are you looking for?” “It’s a blue bag! It’s kind of small…” but he was gone, and she tugged her coat around herself, watching him swing down near the flattened car and the armor, where the cops were trying to extract the guy out of his suit. A shot of web, and he’d grabbed the little bag up and pulled it to himself, then swung back to her. “This it?” “Yes!” She took it and made sure the tea bags were still all right—thankfully nothing had spilled—and tucked it safely into her bag. “Thank you—sorry about that, I—“ “Listen, next time just…you see the bad guys, you run the other way, okay? I’m sure your boyfriend would tell you the same thing.” “Yeah, probably.” her boyfriend. Peter was that, though, right? Maybe she’d ask. Maybe she should ask. Spider-Man offered an arm again. “Where are you heading?”

              --------------------------------------------------

“Peter, it was the craziest thing—like how do people around here deal with that all the time?!” They were sitting in a booth, and she was telling him about nearly dying over two big plates of fries. “Does that happen all the time?! Did you see any of it??” he’d been a few minutes late meeting her, but then she’d been late too. He’d been glad to see her, and hadn’t stopped smiling all night, even when she’d told him she almost had some kind of mecha-suit-guy crush her like a bug. “No, I guess I just missed it…” he shrugged some, “I’m just glad you’re okay.” “I mean, me too—“ she brandished a fry at him, shaking her head incredulously, “Who was that guy anyways?! I mean where do these people come from??” “No idea. Same place as Spider-Man, I guess.” “God, I heard about the destruction that happened with like…what, Green Goblin? Doc Ock? That had to have been even worse than this….” “Yeah, it was,” Peter nodded some, looking down, “It was really bad. A lot of people got hurt.” “It’s a good thing we have Spider-Man, honestly.” There was a pause. “You think so?” “I mean he grabbed me out of there at the last possible second. That counts for something.” She sighed, shaking her head and eating a few of her fries. “Oh!” She dug around in her bag, and pulled the blue bag out, smiling. “It’s…I mean they only got a little banged up. But this is for you,” she offered it to Peter, and he took it, smiling broadly as he opened it to look. “Whaaat…you didn’t need to—what is it?” “It’s tea,” she explained, fingers fiddling with each other in her lap now, “It’s supposed to—it should help you sleep.” “You…really?” “Yeah, I…I use it sometimes, and I thought…” He was inspecting one of the little bags, and his eyes widened. “Did you make this??” “Yeah, I mean it might taste a little weirder than you’re used to…” “I bet it tastes amazing!” he shut the bag again and beamed at her, and [Y/N] felt her face heat up some. “I’ll use it when I get home!” “Well…tell me if you like it,” she gave him a lopsided smile back, and he just grinned.

              --------------------------------------------------

On the sidewalk later, she waited on a cab, and he waited with her. “So…” She took a little breath, looking at him after a moment. He smiled broadly. “So.” He went a little pink now, rubbed at his nose a little. “So it’s been…it’s been a few weeks, and I…maybe I’m reading into things, but, y’know…I thought, maybe…maybe you’d be my girl?” [Y/N] just stared at him for a moment, and his face went red. “Or maybe I was misreading—“ “—I’ve been hoping you’d—you’d say something for like…weeks now,” she mumbled sheepishly, face red now too. “God I really must be bad at flirting…” “No!” He hurriedly put a hand on her arm, like he thought she might leave, “No, you’re—you’re great at it!” They both stood there for a moment, other pedestrians passing them in the freezing night air, and finally, when she was starting to think she could just stare at those sweet blue eyes forever, Peter took a little step closer. “Can I kiss you?” [Y/N] gasped out a little laugh, smiling and nodding. “I’d--I’d be more than a little disappointed if you didn’t.” It was freezing; his lips were cold and so were hers, the wind was chapping their cheeks, it smelled like smoke and exhaust around them, but it was perfect. [Y/N] moved forward a little, feeling the warmth from Peter’s body seep through her layers, and she felt him smile against her mouth, and she smiled back. When they looked at each other again, she laughed, reaching up and swiping a little smear of black lipstick off of his mouth with her thumb, and he laughed back before taking her wrist, and kissing her again. The cab came too soon, when it did, and she watched him out the window as they drove off, waving back when he waved from the sidewalk.

              --------------------------------------------------

The next morning, there was a blip of an article as she skimmed the news pages, and a blurry photo of Spider-Man: ‘Howling webhead disturbs city! Spider vigilante heard whooping through the streets late last night! Could this be an arachnid war cry?!’

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker #spiderman #spider-man #spider-man x reader #spiderman x reader #reader insert #tobey!peter x reader #tobey!peter parker x reader #OKAY 3rd TIME IS THE CHARM i hope anyhow #tumblr pls just show my posts #the moth & spider thing #reader lives in manhattan and is not used to these spider shenanigans that go on in queens #no i don't have a specific address for her but she has a Fun Neighbor #ambiguous universe setting sort of since i just like having my cake and eating it too #peter is a big dork but would we love him any other way? no #i am also very sick right now so i feel like there are errors all over the place in this

[peaches-writes]

meeting points

description: because overcoming heavy traffic is the new crossing oceans for people member: jisung / han genre: fluff, college au, not-so-long distance au, city life au, best friends to lovers au word count: 9.4k warning: explicit language, drinking, suggestive, food, traffic, heights, a clown note: i want to throw fists at han jisung but like with affection y’know

one - a new cafe

For almost 2 years now, you and Jisung have what Seungmin has once referred to as a semi-long distance friendship—only semi since you attend universities literally 20 minutes away from each other when there’s no traffic and friendship because, well, you’ve been best friends since high school. It’s not that you don’t have other friends who attend SNU like him or vice versa (but Yonsei University); rather, it’s that Jisung is the slowest replier in the world and you’re the second clingiest person in the world (just behind Hyunjin). Seeing each other in person as much as you can is an absolute must in order to keep Jisung from fully becoming one with his dorm, you sane from the academic pressure of tertiary education, and your overall friendship afloat. College students need to stick together somehow.

Unless it’s a bigger hangout with your mutual friends, you alternate locations depending on who has a heavier deadline to attend to afterward. When Jisung finds himself struggling to finish a song or needs to be at the campus radio station with the rest of 3racha later on, it’s you taking the bus to his university dorm; when it’s you slumped on term papers for your core subjects or on visual props your club needs, Jisung convinces Minho to let him carpool (since his night part-time job is on the way to your university). 

But even then, it’s more often that you make the tedious travel. Like today. 

On this particular day, it’s you seated on a bus and looking outside the window to pass the agonizingly slow time, sighing for the nth time at the evening rush hour. It’s only 6:20 PM on your phone and your bus is already on the connecting bridge but the endless sight of cars behind and ahead of you, against the darkness of the Han river and the bright city lights, doesn’t make you feel like you’ve crossed any distance. Jisung’s last text was a simple “stay safe” almost an hour ago when you got on the bus from the nearest stop outside your university. 

The two of you are you supposed to try the new cafe inside his campus for dinner since your recent hangouts have only been inside his dorm (with Hyunjin too since they’re roommates), watching old movies and eating take-out until Jisung accidentally falls asleep from power working beforehand. It’s nearing the semester break and everyone’s been sort of busy at SNU, but lately, Jisung’s been actually making an effort to make time for you and insisting that you hang out at the expense of his sleep.  

Backwards thinking but okay, you shrug one shoulder at the thought. You’ve talked about it once on call when his sudden initiative to meet started since you’re concerned about his well-being and that you have all the time in the world once break starts but Jisung unexpectedly fell asleep halfway and Hyunjin had to end the call. Two days later, Jisung texted you that he rented the movie you wanted to watch at the cinema for the weekend with an apology for falling asleep and assurance that he’s almost finished with his deadlines and that he’s asking you to hang out responsibly.

It’s not like you don’t like it, you are already on the way to SNU, after all. Besides, you’re still very much free from heavy academic and club activities since your professors scheduled their deadlines after the break and your club is not as active lately. Have fun now, suffer later as Seungmin and Changbin have told you when you told them your worries about Jisung’s sleep schedule. 

After a while of trying to count the cars on the bridge as your lane moves a little faster now, you open your phone and message Jisung to pass the time. You don’t always expect that he replies but it’s always the most reassuring when it’s him you’re contacting, even when it’s just casual. 

y/n: don’t u have radio tonight? [sent 6:32 PM] 

You’ve heard 3racha’s campus radio show on the several times you hung out at SNU during the day. They air live on Friday nights, Saturday if most of the all-student crew are busy, but the meetings are rather frequent when nearing holidays so you’re careful of leaving on time even on a non-Friday weekday like this.

y/n: just crossed ynghwa

y/n: bus is driving steady now!!! aaaaak

jisung: almost typed ‘arent u supposed to be looking at d road’ then i rmmbr that u don’t have a car LOL [sent 6:56 PM] 

y/n: so do u have a meeting later? 

jisung: no

At their dorms, Hyunjin is out for the night to god knows where but Jisung is quite certain it’s not for studying since he was dressed to the nines. When he got a text from you, he slowly but surely forced himself to stand up from his work area to get dressed. Though he’s the one who insisted on hanging out, it doesn’t change the fact that leaving his work is hard when he’s in his ‘zone’ but he has to since the new cafe’s apparently a 3-minute walk from his dorm but he has to meet you at the bus stop first.

y/n: ur probs not even dressed yet 

y/n: close that laptop nerd

Jisung couldn’t bring it in himself to reply because he was already preoccupied avoiding getting dissed by you again whenever he wears his favorite Supreme t-shirt. 

- 

You arrive at the bus stop at around 6:50 PM, just as Jisung arrives, panting heavily from running the remaining distance when he received an ‘almost there’ message from you. You offer him a bottle of water you forgot to take out from your backpack and he quickly swipes it from you, chugging down the contents as if his life depends on it. “Woah there, haven’t seen you in a long time. Drink slowly and breathe.” You rub his arm comfortingly as the two of you stand on the empty sidewalk. Behind you, your bus drives away. “You didn’t have to run, you know, I could’ve just met up with you wherever you are.” 

He then stops drinking just to breathlessly say, “But it’s dark and there could be creeps out.”  

You’re touched but still concerned. “Still. I have you on speed dial, remember?” 

When Jisung’s fully recovered, the two of you walk to the cafe together, catching up on what’s happened in your own lives in the past week since you last met. There’s not much, actually, since Jisung really doesn’t go out often unless it’s for classes, the radio show, or some of his other friends insisted and you’re almost always with your dorm mates, Lia and Ryujin, or with Changbin, Seungmin, and Jeongin. 

“Minho says they have good Americano.” Eventually you arrive and Jisung immediately points to the several posters on the window, showcasing the cafe’s specialty. 

“And how many days have you been running only on Americano?” You point out in an almost scolding tone. You approach the counter now where there are barely any people in line since most customers are already seated. 

“Not that long!” He holds up his hands in the air. “Just 2 weeks!” 

“Jisung!”  

He imitates you dramatically with,“Y/N!” to which you only roll your eyes to. 

“Good evening, how may I take your order?” The barista asks. 

Jisung opens his mouth to speak but you hold an arm in front of him and turn to the barista, “One pesto, one lasagna, the chicken wings for sharing, two glasses of water, one cheesecake, and one strawberry cake, please.” 

“Y/N, this is a cafe, where their specialty is coffee.” Jisung teases dryly as the barista takes note of your order, a last attempt at getting himself another cup of Americano. 

So without turning to him, you tell the barista, “Also, can you add an additional Americano—?”

“Finally—” “Two shots for me, not him.” 

The barista only laughs at your banter. “Name please?” 

“Y/N.”  

While you’re conversing with the barista, Jisung shoots daggers to the side of your face, dramatically declaring, “I’m stealing your Americano.” 

But you only drop your arm in front of him as the barista says, “That would be 12,000 won.” 

“Oh, he’s paying.” 

Either way, Jisung reluctantly pays with the sole motivation to get a sip from your iced Americano. 

“Seriously, though, cut the Americano for a little while, maybe until finals.” You point out as you settle on a nearby table that has just been cleaned by staff. “Do you even know what a water dispenser looks like at this point?”

“I drink water.” He pouts, opting to sit down next to you to show that he really has all intents to steal your Americano. “It just doesn’t give me ideas for my projects.” 

“You have one practical project due before the break. What about the other times you do work?” 

“I do them quickly.” 

You sigh in defeat. “Ah, seriously?”

When the barista calls for your name at the counter, Jisung holds you down by the shoulder and makes a run for the counter, taking a long sip of your Americano until you caught up to him. 

“Success!” He exclaims, proud of himself, as he takes one of the two trays. 

“Satisfied with your Americano?” You take the other tray in defeat, walking back to your table with him. 

“Hm, I don’t knoooow.” He teases in sing-song, sitting next to you again instead of across from you as he would usually do. “You might finish everything before even finishing your pasta.” 

“I’m not too much in a coffee mood, actually.” You scrunch up your nose. The two of you then proceed on taking your respective orders off the tray, setting the trays aside. 

“But after the break, you will be.” He states matter-of-factly. “How many projects do you have due after the break?” 

“I can only remember six because I really don’t want to think about them right now.” You steal a small slice of cheesecake from him as an unwritten exchange for his unlimited share of your iced Americano. “As Seungmin and Changbin once said, ‘have fun now, suffer later.’“ 

“Oh, I’m fun?” 

You turn to your side to look at him, finding him looking back at you with a triumphant smile. “You’re not letting me live this down, won’t you?” 

“No, it’s getting added to my list of Y/N compliments!” 

You roll your eyes, taking another slice of cheesecake. He reiterates with his now third sip of Americano—you’re not even sure anymore because you’re pretty sure he’s already drank half of it. 

“I said drink your water, jeez.” You slide him his glass of water, barely a quarter empty. You take the Americano from him, taking your own long sip of the drink.

“I will, I will! Just one last si—” “Han Jisung, let me drink my damn coffee!” “Okay, fine, let’s exchange!” 

-   

You leave the cafe when it’s nearing 9 PM. Somehow, when you’re with Jisung and food, you barely check the time, much less your phone, since your table gets messy from stealing each other’s dessert plates and, for tonight, Jisung drinking most of your Americano. You and Jisung also had a lot to say about your respective classes in a full-on rant session since there’s only 2 weeks left until everyone is on semester break.  

“There’s not much traffic at this time, isn’t there?” Jisung asks you as he walks you back to the bus stop. He holds a paperbag containing your take-out cakes for your roommates. “You might fall asleep and miss your stop again.” 

“Says the guy who sleeps on people during calls.” You tease with an elbow to his side. He tries to slap you back on your arm but you walk ahead enough to be out of his reach, sticking your tongue out at him. “There isn’t much traffic now, though, it’s only Thursday.” 

“Y/N.” He laughs while calling your name, covering his mouth. “It’s Friday.” 

Your eyes, of course, widen in surprise. “It is?” He only nods at this, finding amusement in the way your expression quickly turns into that of horror. “Ah, shit, I told my roommates we hang out tomorrow!”

“Why, do you have to do the dishes or something?” 

But checking your phone, you only find a ‘wya’ message from Ryujin. Almost as quickly as you started panicking, you calm down again. “Oh, it’s fine.” You conclude, shoving your phone back in your coat pocket. “It’s just that they sometimes think I died at the library or something and end up making a big scene about it. Last time, our batch FB group got spammed.”

“Wow, then you judge me for always being cooped up in the dorms?” 

“That’s different—I actually go out and walk. I’m surprised you can even run to the bus stop a while ago.”   

Jisung threatens to swing your take-out bag at you. You only take it lightheartedly by holding your hands up in front of him, laughing. 

But all jokes and banter aside, you give him a hug before boarding the bus. “Text me when you get home.” He recites his constant line when it’s you leaving. “Or when you miss your bus.” 

“Shut up.” You mumble on his shoulder, punching his back hard before pulling away. “I hope you trip on your way back.”

“‘Night, Y/N.” “See you when I see you, nerd.” 

two - a park 

After a month of living off of ramen and iced Americano, barely seeing the sun, and hearing the same chords and melodies on repeat, Jisung passes the song he’s been working a week later. Besides this, he only has three papers left to tweak before he can fully enjoy the semester break without any sort of guilt.

To celebrate, it’s you inviting him this time to ride bicycles so he can move around but also relax. You picked the park at Ichon that’s on your side of the Han river but still far away from university so you don’t think of schoolwork the entire time.

On this particular hangout, you took the same bus but at different times. He boarded the bus first before you, arriving some 30 minutes after you’ve arrived at your nearest stop. Since it’s a Saturday morning, the traffic’s not too heavy.

“You look nice.” Jisung nudges you with one shoulder as you take a seat on the spot he saved you. The bus is not full since the rush hour had just gone.

“It’s just a t-shirt and shorts.” You reply flatly, hiding the fact that you actually thought a lot about your outfit last night. You even wore your good sneakers and denim jacket today.

“Yes, but it’s your other other favorite graphic shirt.” He points out. “The one for when we’re outdoors.”

Oh, so he noticed.

“Yes because someone has to look cute.” But you actually think Jisung looks nice even when he wears the same Supreme shirt like today—you’re just too in deep with the teasing to compliment him.

“I compliment the rainbow shirt you always wear when we sightsee but you diss my Supreme shirt.” He rolls his eyes. “Ah, people these days.”

“Because you’re always in and out of university in that.” To emphasis, you tease him further by scooting away. “Do you even wash that?”

“Of course I do.” He confidently and lightheartedly answers, putting an arm on your shoulder and pulling you back. “While it’s in the laundry, I wear my other Supreme shirt, or my other other Supreme shirt—“

“Yikes.” You tsk at him, crossing your arms. “This is what staying inside all day does to you.”

“That’s why you’re here, my Y/N, to take me out.”

“I was reduced to the role of babysitter.”

“I was going for hangout or date but you called yourself babysitter.”

-

Arriving at Ichon park, you make a quick snack stop at the nearest convenience store first. Since it’s your turn to pay, Jisung makes sure to buy all of his favorites (sans an iced Americano this time as your only condition to pay for him). You fill an entire basket with snacks and drinks both for when you ride a bicycle and for when you settle down for a picnic later at lunch.

“By the way, did you bring the mat?” You ask Jisung as you walk to the renting station, remembering that he and Hyunjin have the picnic mat you and your bigger circle of friends use for outings like this.

“Of course I did, what do you take me for?” He unzips his backpack to show you the blue gingham pattern Seungmin picked out two years ago. Aesthetic, he said. “I’m not the one who mistakes dates.”

“And I’m not the one who had to ask what the picnic mat looks like the other night despite having it for 4 months now.” After a few more steps, you arrive at the renting station. “I was just making sure.”

You then rent two bicycles, both with baskets for your belongings.

“Y/N, wear a hat.” Jisung reminds you while putting in his.

You frown. You did bring a cap but you also put a lot of effort on your hair today. “It’s going to ruin my hair.”

“The sun’s going to burn your hair if you don’t.” He takes your cap from your hands and gently places it on top of your hair before you can even reiterate, a small smile gracing his face at your speechless expression. “There.”

The fuck is he on? Still, your heart beats erratically at his sporadic gestures. Being Jisung’s best friend is a bit of a rollercoaster.

Especially lately.

Before you know it, Jisung’s already on his bicycle, urging you to do the same. Half-dazed, the two of you leisurely circle the entire stretch of the park, pointing at random landmarks across the river and eating your snacks.

Since this hangout’s also meant as a celebratory one, you let Jisung let loose and yell, “I’m done with my projects!” while extending his hands out as he cycles. You think to yourself that you have the rest of the year having a heart attack over that.

-

The park is full of families, friends, and couples on a Sunday that you almost couldn’t find a spot to lay your picnic mat on when the two of you got too tired of cycling around. You couldn’t consider sitting on a park bench since Jisung was getting sleepy as well, a result of not having a proper sleep schedule and a half in the past weeks.

So, after almost twenty minutes, you managed to secure a place from a couple who was just leaving for the nearby Namsan tower.

“Thank you so much again!” You thank the couple who even helps you set up the picnic mat while you let Jisung temporarily rest on the bare grass with his backpack as a pillow, sleep quickly catching onto him.

“No problem.” The woman says with a smile.

“Have fun on your own date.” The man adds, placing an arm on his date’s shoulders.

“Oh we’re not—“ But before you could even finish, the couple’s already walked away. You sigh, squatting down to Jisung’s eye level this time. “Jisung wake up, mat’s ready.”

He scrunches his nose with a groan, about to roll over to the opposite direction until you stopped him and rolled him towards the mat. His head lands soundlessly on the ground, forcing him to open his eyes.

“Damn, I thought I was going to land on your lap.” He rubs the area on his head that hit the grass.

You sit down next to him, taking out the sandwiches you bought from the convenience store. “Who do you think rolled you over, dumbass? For a genius, your sense of direction is quite questionable.”

“But can I?” He looks up at you now, poking your bare thigh. “Do you need like a blanket or something?”

You remind yourself that this is the same guy who threatened to smack you with a box of cake last week and dropkicked you once (but that’s another story). “Fine, go ahead.”

As if he woke up just a little with wide eyes and a genuinely happy expression on his face, Jisung scoots over while laying down (which makes you stifle a giggle because he looks like a worm doing it) until his head lays on your lap. You push a bottle of water and two bags of sandwiches next to his shoulders. “You have to eat later, though, okay?”

Looking down at him, you surprise yourself by finding him with his eyes still open. He busies himself with lazily getting his phone and earphones from his bag, putting on an earbud and offering you the other. “I saved my project for you to listen to.”

“Didn’t you say you were going to sleep?” Nevertheless, you take the earbud just as the music starts to play.

“Yeah, but I’m suddenly hyper-aware and awake.” He shrugs, taking the sandwich on his side. “You know, like when kids get put to bed from sleeping somewhere else.”

“So you do think you’re a kid?”

“Shush, this is the good part in the song.”

You chuckle, opting to not reply vocally to enjoy the song you’ve been hearing fragments off for the past month. The two of you then eat and listen in silence, that is until he asks you for comments at the end and the two of you discuss it for a while then it’s back to comfortable silence again but with different music as you scroll through your phone and Jisung tries to nap again.

Jisung falls asleep once he has a good look at you without your phone in the way.

-

At the end of the day, around 4 PM so you don’t get stuck in rush hour traffic, you take the same bus again but this time, it’s you leaving first.

The only problem is that despite a year and a half of frequenting your side of the Han river, Jisung still can’t seem to memorize bus stops well, forcing you to stay awake the entire ride.

“Y/N—“ “No, Jisung, we’re still three stops away.”

You don’t even have to look up from your phone to know that Jisung’s still looking out of the window as he’s had for the past 20 minutes, trying to gues your stop. At hearing your answer, he decides to stop, turning his head to the other direction as you text your groupchat.

“What’s up?” He rests his head on your shoulder casually to get a better view of the messages you’re skimming through, sending a shiver down your spine.

You try shrugging him off his shoulder but he shows no initiative to move. “Everyone’s starting to talk about the annual Halloween party. You’d know if you check the chat often.”

Away from your view, Jisung frowns. “I get ideas of what you’re talking about from how Hyunjin reacts to them, especially to the memes, thank you very much.”

“Well, at least you’re a bit better than Changbin when it comes to being online.” You say, more to yourself than to Jisung. “Anyway, you, Hyunjin, and Chan are in charge of the guest list. Chan just suggested that you squeeze it in your next radio show this week since the party’s the next night—maximum of 50 people!”

“Oh, yeah, we can do that.” He nods. “Any news on the venue?”

At this, you release a sigh of frustration. “Seungmin and Changbin booked a rooftop in Itaewon of all places.”

“Isn’t that cool? Why are you sighing?”

“Speak for yourself, Jisung. Remember last year?” You close your phone now but Jisung’s head still remains on your shoulder. “I don’t want to deal with a lot of drunk college kids again—especially not on a rooftop and not when I really deserve a drink.”

“Nah, I’m sure it won’t be as bad as last year.” He tries to say dismissively but the two of you know exactly know crazy it was last year, especially for Jisung.

“Which is why I told Minho that we buy the alcohol together on Wednesday—so no one does anything too stupid.” You shrug Jisung completely off of your shoulder now since you’re nearing your stop and he complies, caught off-guard with the way you said you and Minho are doing something together. “Okay, Sung, this is my stop.”

You stand up and Jisung almost does the same in his absentminded state. “So are you carpooling with Minho on Saturday?”

“Yeah, I need to do something for my club before going to the party but we’re sending the drinks early in case we’re late.” You say quickly. “Okay, I gotta go. See you this break?”

“Hm, see you.”

When the bus moves again, there is a sinking feeling in Jisung’s stomach until the view of you walking back to your university disappears.

three - a supermarket

You invited Lia to help you and Minho to buy liquor at the nearby supermarket after Minho’s classes, only to find out that Minho brought 3racha along.

“It’s not that I don’t trust your box-carrying skills but I don’t trust your liquor-handling skills.” Minho explains when he sees your surprised expression at seeing Chan wave at you and Lia from the front passenger seat. “That goes literally and figuratively.”

“I mean, I feel the same which is why Lia’s here but, really? You trust Jisung and Changbin with liquor?”

“Hyunjin’s out with someone again and Jeongin might get carded again.” Changbin shrugs from the open passenger seat window.

“Seungmin? Jeongin? Felix?”

“Do you think we’d actually let them touch alcohol until Saturday?” “Right.”

“I’m sure it’s going to be fine. We’re buying for around 50 people right?” Lia asks Minho as the two of you squeeze in the back seat of his car.

“Yeah, so that’s about 6 boxes since the venue’s also providing some drinks.”

“What about snacks?” “Covered by the venue too.”

“How many bottles can fit in 1 box?” You mumble to yourself but Jisung, sitting very closely next to you, hears.

“Around 10 to 15, probably.” He says, startling you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be finishing papers?”

“I already finished them waaaay back.” He smirks at you coolly. “While being a ‘cave man’ at the dorms like you said. You’re supposed to be proud I’m voluntarily going out today.” 

He’s too prideful to admit that he finished his remaining work in the 3-day window you didn’t see each other so he can tag along today.

-

At the supermarket, you split up in teams, each with two baskets to fill. Changbin and Lia head off to the liquor store outside the main supermarket while Minho and Chan go to the liquor aisle inside the supermarket. You and Jisung, on the other hand, stick together, browsing the other aisles instead after being in the same liquor aisle but at different sections with Minho and Chan. No reason, you both just felt like it.

“Do you think we have enough budget to sneak in a bag of candies?” You think out loud, holding a bag of mint candies from the shelf. “I’m not sure if I want this one but Minho likes it.” 

“Minho probably wouldn’t notice—maybe he’ll even think he put that in himself.” Jisung says, standing really close to you and examining the candies himself. Your two baskets of alcohol bottles are half-forgotten to the side. “Why do you even want to buy candies for him? If you want it, though I can buy it for you.”

You give him a skeptical look, only then noticing how easily your shoulders brush against each other. “Why are you standing really close?” You voice your observation out loud, making him turn his head to you with a pout. “I mean sure go ahead but you’re literally blocking the light.”

“I can’t?” To emphasis, he leans some of his body weight to you, just enough to make you hold onto him by his arm at the feeling that you’ll tip over if you don’t. Succeeding, he smirk triumphantly and takes your hand off of his arm so that he can put in on your shoulder. “Y/N, I missed youuu.”

“We saw each other 3 days ago.” You huff, more to yourself than to him because he really is making you nervous. “You’re so clingy today, that’s my job!”

“Sus, I can’t miss you after 3 days now? When it’s already my break and you’re still attending some classes?” He pouts, holding his arms open. “Come here.”

“What? Why?” At this point, you’re just getting a serious whiplash from his sudden clinginess. That’s my job, how dare he?

When you don’t budge, eyes still narrowed at him, he moves forward himself, trapping you in a hug. “I want to hug you, idiot.”

“What if I don’t want to?” “I’m still hugging you.”

You simply give in this time, the two of you just standing there until Chan passed by to get Minho candies.

“Dudes, come on, we’re buying alcohol.” He reminds with an amused smile, snatching the bag of mint candies from your grasp. “Get moving, lovebirds.”

“We’re n—“ “We’ll be right there.”

You pretend on swinging a bag of gummy bears at him. When he asks you why, you only run back to the liquor aisle to meet Chan and Minho.

-

More bickering, some alcoholic jokes, and the woman at the check-out counter asking for your I.D.s later, the 6 of you rest and eat ice cream at a parlour near the check-out before leaving, your boxes of alcohol carefully placed together at the end of your table.

“So how many people are actually going?” Lia asks Chan over her chocolate ice cream.

“Around thirty-people already responded to the invite.” Chan answers. You wince every time he bites his ice cream. Every person to themselves but biting ice cream is just a no for you. “When the Friday show airs, hopefully more people go.”

“We had 100 people last year, right?”

“That’s because these geniuses thought they can handle a hundred drunks at a house party.” You recall the chaotically eventful party last year. “We’re cutting in half since we’re at a rooftop party and I don’t want to see people jumping off the 4th floor.”

“Also since not a lot of people dress up.” Jisung frowns. The party has always been a costume party when it started 3 years ago but somehow, a lot of the guests you’re not particularly close with always show up in the bare minimum.

“Ooh, what are you guys dressing up as this year?” Minho asks, suddenly excited at the topic of costumes.

“Might just go as a vampire again this year since I won’t have much time preparing this Saturday.” You frown.

“Hey, I wanted to go as a vampire!” Chan complains.

“You already went as a vampire last year! Can we not match again?” 

“What about you Minho?” Lia asks, disinterested in your bicker with Chan.

“I haven’t decided yet.” He shrugs. “Ask Jisung.”

Lia turns to Jisung who enthusiastically answers, “It’s a surprise!”

“It’s probably the horse head again.” You roll your eyes, knowing his enthusiasm very well. “But we’re just going to pretend that it’s a surprise on Saturday.”

“You better do.” Jisung pouts.

“Have you even washed that horse mask since last year?” Minho narrows his eyes at the younger boy. 

You yourself didn’t even expect that he’d keep it for this year especially after what happened.

Yikes. 

“Minho, you know I do! I take it out sometimes to scare Hyunjin’s dates!”

-

You head to the events place in Itaewon after. From the photos in your groupchat, it’s an average-sized building in relation to the others in this particular district, holding a convenience store on the first floor, a BBQ place on the 2nd floor, and miscellaneous offices on the 3rd—one of which rents the rooftop for events.

“So why did we have to buy drinks at the supermarket again?” Changbin asks, still trying to catch his breath from carrying so many boxes of alcohol. 

“Because supermarket alcohol is slightly better than convenience store ones.” You answer matter-of-factly. “It’s semester break and Halloween. Indulge a little,  Binnie.” 

“Y/N has plans to get wasted.” Jisung spoils to everyone, making you call out his name from the front seat. You asked to exchanged seats with Chan after loading the boxes at the back of the car so you can have a run through of the food and drinks. Throughout the whole ride, he’s been hell-bent on exposing you. 

“Then it’s counterproductive to buy those hard drinks.” 

“Who says I’m sharing them?” You chuckle. You didn’t expect that anyone but Jisung would notice that you bought smaller drinks for yourself. 

Then the car is quiet for a while sans the music playing from Jisung’s phone which you immediately recognized as one of the playlists 3racha played on a broadcast before. 

When you get stuck in temporary traffic on the last intersection before the venue, you then turn to Minho. “Minho, aren’t you afraid of heights? Is 4 floors okay?”  

Glancing at Minho for a response, he nods while still looking at the road. “The place’s really nice in person. I went with Seungmin yesterday.”

“If you say it’s nice then I’d probably feel guilty of letting people trash the place this weekend.” Because it’s true, if Lee Minho calls something nice or pretty, it’s really really nice or pretty.

“It’s really spacious so you don’t have to stare at the ground below all the time, lots of picnic chairs and tables with the big-ass umbrellas, fairy lights, and a sound system when people want to karaoke or need mics.”

“Ah, yes, very much of Seungmin’s aesthetic.”

“I’d like to be acknowledged too, thank you.” Changbin says from your rear view mirror view.

“Thank you Changbin.” You tease him with a laugh. “What did you like about the place?”

And before Changbin could even answer seriously, the rest of the car answers in chorus, “There are lots of glitter and foil decorations.” before breaking into laughter. 

“There are beach props too! There’s fake grass and everything so it looks cheerful!” Changbin defends but to no avail because you only end up laughing. “Seungmin didn’t like it but I insisted that we borrow it for the party.”

You arrive at the building afterward, handing the alcohol to the staff on their 3rd floor office and finalizing the food you’re going to have on the party. 

“We’ll see you on Saturday night, then?” The owner of the building confirms once you’ve covered all the inquiries you have. 

Chan nods. “Me and the guy who booked the place, Seungmin, will be here first on Saturday night around 6 PM.” 

“What are you doing at 6 PM that you have to be late on Saturday?” Jisung whispers next to you, diverting your attention from looking at the view next to you to him as he looks at you expectantly. 

“Cramming a poster while waiting for a club meeting.” You frown. “Not everyone had their school day on Friday.” 

“Can’t you skip?” 

“Hm? Why?” You nudge his shoulder, as if trying to take out the pouty expression he wears on his face. “I told you I’m carpooling with Minho on that day so it’s fine.” 

“But stiiill. I won’t save your alcohol.” 

“No need, I already asked Seungmin to do it...and even asked Felix to watch you before I get here.” 

“What did you bribe those two with?”

“Tickets to Lotte world.” 

Jisung narrows his eyes at you but he’s thoroughly impressed. “You’re too smart.” 

“I have to outsmart you somehow when it comes to doing something stupid.” You shrug with a chuckle. “Plus, traffic’s really heavy on Saturday since everyone’s going home that day.” 

“You really should just ditch club.” He shrugs. “It’s the last day anyway.”  

“I can’t, dumbass, that’s part of my grade. Really, it’s fine, at least I’m with Minho on that day so we can be late together.” 

Before Jisung could argue further, however, Lia approaches the two of you. “Ready to go, guys?”

four - a rooftop party

Sometimes, you hate it when Jisung is right. Turns out, the meeting you had for your club was relatively pointless and could’ve just been discussed over e-mail or your club groupchat. Still, it ended at around 9:15 PM because most of your club mates arrived later than the 7:35 PM you agreed on and the stubborn president didn’t want to start the meeting until everyone was there. 

Still, you passed your posters (which you definitely crammed at the school library prior) and made a lot of suggestions during the meeting which felt rewarding enough to make up for the frustrations you can’t vocally tell your seniors over causing a lot of inconveniences to your meeting. Just think that’s going to be you in a few years, Y/N, so try to understand, you think to yourself as you return to an empty dorm. Ryujin already informed you over text that she and Lia already left with Yeji to pick up Chaeryeong from her university. 

“Now, for costume.” You mumble under your breath, heading straight to your room.

After much thought on which black clothes to wear, you got dressed quickly to attend to your make-up faster. Since you’re a vampire again like last year, you have to put in more effort on your hair and make-up—you’re definitely not winning best costume but at least you look decent (and definitely not wearing the same clothes from last year) for the endless pictures Hyunjin’s going to take of everyone later. 

 When you’re already halfway to your make-up, Minho decides on spamming you, your phone lighting up and displaying 9:58 PM. Shit. 

minho: here!!! 

minho: traffic still heavy 

minho: chan asked for reinforcements btw

minho: so were stopping at d mart

minho: pls don’t tell me ur putting make-up blood on ur face [sent 10:03 PM]

You groan, typing a quick “i am” reply to his last message before quickly finishing your make-up and heading out. 

y/n: ok otw [sent 10:06 PM]

You quickly spot Minho’s car right outside of your dorm, his tinted windows rolling down as you approach. Opening the car, your eyes widen in brief surprise before crinkling into a laugh as you get in and close the door. “W-what the...what the fuck, Minho?”  

“Don’t.” He holds a threatening finger up in front of your face, putting his hand back on the steering wheel as you drive away from your dorm. But even he stifles from his own laughter. “The kids asked that we buy 10 more bottles of the whiskey Chan picked out since Hyunjin made cocktails with it and a lot of people want more.” 

“W—wh...sorry, it’s just that I can’t concentrate when you’re looking like this.” You end up laughing for the rest of your first 2 minutes inside the car and almost forgetting what you were going to ask. 

This year,  Minho is a Korean traditional woman for Halloween.

“So,” You start when you’ve recovered, holding a hand to your chest to steady your breathing. “So, are you going out to the mart or do I have to sacrifice myself?” 

“You can air drop the pic of the whiskey brand on your phone.” He answers. 

You sigh, putting on a jacket you find on the back seat to cover your exposed torso for when you go out to the supermarket. 

- 

At the supermarket, people only gave you brief stares because of the fake blood dripping from your chin to your collarbones before their attentions turned to another person (probably from another Halloween party) dressed as a literal YouTube video picking up snacks. Though you’re relieved, you made your exit quick after your purchase, pushing the cart as fast as you can to the nearby parking spot Minho’s car occupied, because your phone suddenly started ringing from consecutive messages from Jisung, of all people. 

jisung: y/n where r uuuu

jisung: party started at 6! 6! 

jisung: seungmin playing truth or drink 

jisung: changbin singing at karaoke

jisung: also i drank ur mules 

jisung: n ur peach sojus

jisung: but i shared w felix! [sent 10:25 PM] 

You sigh, particularly at reading the last message after successfully loading your box of whiskey at the back of the car. You were too hopeful trusting even Seungmin and Felix. 

y/n: otw w minho [sent 10:25 PM] 

“Jisung’s really drunk again.” You inform Minho once you’re on the road again. “I can’t even trust Seungmin or Felix now.” 

“Well, you’ll have to keep texting him because the traffic going to Itaewon doesn’t seem to be moving.” Minho sighs. “You know he’ll sleep dehydrated if he’s that bored by himself to text you.” 

You groan. “No shortcuts?” 

“Even the shortcuts are flooded. I swear, everyone’s travelling home or partying tonight.” 

You lean back on your seat, taking a few deep breaths. If there’s anyone that shouldn’t be left alone at a party, it’s one Han Jisung. 

- 

At the party, Jisung sits at the bar, accompanying Hyunjin as he re-discovers his drunken talent of mixing cocktails. He scrolls through his phone absentmindedly with the occasional sips of the peach soju he’s been struggling to finish for 20 minutes now, having no motivation to join Changbin and Felix at the karaoke or Chan, Jeongin, and Seungmin playing more drinking games with most of the guests. 

“Jisung, you’re sulking.” Hyunjin points out as he gives another guest his new cocktail recipe. 

“No, I’m not.” Jisung frowns and hiccups through his big horse mask even when the older boy can’t actually see. 

“You’ve been in there for the past 20 minutes.” Hyunjin knocks on Jisung’s horse mask for emphasis. He’s no better, actually, dressing up as a big giraffe head since Felix decided to be the Joker this year. “Literally the last time I saw your face, you were texting Y/N.” 

“Y/NNNN! Why aren’t Y/N and Minho here yet? I want to see Y/NNNNN!” 

“Well, it’s traffic out.” At the very end of the bar, Hyunjin can see the heavy traffic below. “Everyone’s going home or eating out tonight.” 

“But I want Y/NNN!” Jisung is fumbling around now, narrowly missing his bottle of peach soju since the horse mask doesn’t have a good view from the weird eyes. “Where is Y/N?” 

Though his friend is incredibly drunk now, the tipsy Hyunjin still tries to keep a decent conversation so Jisung doesn’t accidentally fall asleep on his mask again. “You saw each other a lot the past weeks, though? Unlike when it’s a regular school week and you barely reply to them on chat.” 

“But that’s because I’m not as busy then as I was this semester.” Jisung manages to slur after a while before momentarily taking his horse mask off just enough for him to take a long sip of his peach soju with a metal straw he found somewhere in his backpack a while ago. “I miss Y/N when I’m busy.” 

“What about when you’re not busy?” “I also miss them when I’m busy.” 

Hyunjin sighs. “Just say you have a crush on them and go.” 

And he’s not sure if Jisung actually heard him but the boy replies with a muffled sigh. “Having a crush from people in different universities is hard!” 

- 

You open your phone to check the time, the twelfth time you’ve done so in the past hour since you’ve been stuck in the now moving traffic. Eleven-twenty PM on the dot, the party could either be still in full swing with everyone drunk off their asses or dying down with everyone drunk off their asses—either way, most of the liquor are probably gone now (even the one you asked Seungmin to guard for you) and the reinforcement’s probably not a good idea already. Next to you, Minho sighs, “Not that it’s annoying but you keep checking your phone and frowning every time you do. It’s scary, especially since you look more like a depressed vampire than a slutty one.”

“Thanks, Minho.” You roll your yes, closing your phone and putting it down on your lap.

“You’re really that excited much to see your boyfriend?”

You glare daggers through his side profile. “He’s not my boyfriend and I’m more worried than excited because he’s really bad at drinking. Remember last year—”

“It wasn’t that b—”

“Minho, he was crying because he thought his mask was stuck on his head.”

“But—” “He also tried drinking soju while crying and wearing his mask.”

Knowing he’s on the losing side of the argument, Minho waves his hand dismissively, eyes still on the road. The traffic’s moving steady now. “Anyway, there’s 50 people there someone has to be sober-ish somehow.”

“Uh huh, sure, someone is.” You reply dryly. Though this party has a larger attendance list than your friend group’s usual hangouts since it’s your annual Halloween party, you can’t help but remain distrustful. Your friends aka the worst drunks ever are hosting, for God’s sake.

“Why don’t you text someone so you’d feel less nervous?” Minho suggests after a while.  

And this time, you actually listen to him and open your phone again, opting to text Chan.

y/n: y’all still alive?

y/n: we’re about to turn right to the venue [sent 11:28 PM]  

chan: shit’s lit!!!!!!

“Yup, even Chan’s drunk.” You conclude, closing your phone as Minho pulls up to the building. Minho sighs for probably the nth time tonight, exiting the car when you do. “Come on, ahjumma, we’re checking if our friends are still alive.” 

- 

Arriving at the party by the service elevator the staff kindly showed you, you almost kicked the box of whiskey bottles you placed on the ground in surprise once the doors opened and Chan greeted you dressed as a clown. “Finally, you’ve arrived!” He exclaims through his semi-faded white make-up and red nose, completely ignoring the way you just had the shock of your life. “Here, let me help you with the whiskey.” 

You recover quickly, helping Minho and Chan lift the box to the nearby bar where Hyunjin is still busy mixing drinks. “Chan, why are you dressed as a clown?” 

“Twitter poll.” He answers nonchalantly. “You should see Jeongin, he’s a life-size bread.” 

Carefully setting the box on the ground for Hyunjin (who is more than grateful that the whiskey finally arrived), your expression returns to that of concern. “So, where’s Jisung?” 

“Oh, he said he was going to take pictures by the railings with the good view.” Hyunjin shrugs. Panic sets on your face. “Don’t worry! There’s like a lot of people there right now! And I gave him water a while ago!” 

You swip a bottle of peach soju and a bottle of water you saw hidden expertly under the counter from your view on the ground, sighing. “I swear to God, you guys are the worst hosts ever.” 

And so you set out to find Jisung amidst the most random crowd of costumes ever. You spot Changbin dressed as Kim Shin and a Joker Felix still competing for higher scores on the karaoke and passed by baguette Jeongin and sunflower Seungmin who are now hosting a very drunken Whisper Challenge with your seniors, Younghyun who wears a big report card on his neck, Jae who’s dressed in Chicken Little’s clothes, Snow White Sana, and a pirate Jeongyeon. 

If it’s any consolation, at least people dressed up better this year compared to last year. 

“Ryujin, have you seen Jisung?” You near the viewing area on the other side of the rooftop where the light gets progressively fewer. 

“He’s over there.” Your roommate points to an empty area with only a few tables and outdoor lights. 

“Where?” 

“Oh, he’s laying down somewhere. He’s still wearing the horse mask if that helps.” 

“Thank you!” You part ways as you open your phone, turning on the flashlight to find Jisung. 

From your area of the rooftop, the EDM music Chan mixed for this party already sounds faint and the traffic below sounds louder. You point your flashlight on the ground but also look ahead for any shadow of a horse mask. 

“Han Jisung.” You call for him in a loud whisper, in case he fell asleep since he’s sound-sensitive when drunk. “Yah, I swear to God, we’re not hosting another party again if you’re dead somewhere.” 

You repeat this a few times, changing baseless threats in hopes that it alerts him, until you find him raising a hand up in the air. “Here.” He responds tiredly to you, his voice not muffled by a mask this time as he’s long set it down next to him. He spots you immediately, illuminated by the garden lights. “You look pretty.”

“Thanks?” You approach carefully, pointing your flashlight away from his face and kneeling beside him. “Why are you laying down on the ground?” 

You contemplate on laying down next to him but then you remember that you left your jacket in Minho’s car at the thought that the denim doesn’t go with your all-black ensemble. The bare floor’s already cold on your bare legs, how much more on your exposed back? “Anyway, drink this water later.” 

But Jisung seems to ignore you, pushing you gently away by your arm. “I’m looking at the stars, Y/N, move over.” He groans. “Turn the light off too.” 

You scoff. “You can’t see the stars—” But as you look up at the purple night sky, you see countless of twinkling stars. Caught off guard, you turn your light off. “—here. Oh.” 

“Do you want to lay down?” When you turn to look back down at Jisung, he’s already sitting up slowly. Moving away a little so that you’re not in his way, he then takes his jacket off and places it on the ground. “You can use my jacket. It’s fine.” 

You hand him your water bottle and place your peach soju next to his horse mask. “Sure...” Reluctantly, you lay down on Jisung’s jacket. 

Jisung chugs down half of the water before laying down again, next to you this time. 

“Aren’t you cold?” You ask, sparing a glance in his direction as you do so. Jisung only shakes his head. 

“I thought you’d never come.” He pouts, still looking at the stars. He’s slowly sobering up now, making it harder to look at you in the eye. 

“Traffic.” You heave a long sigh. “Hyunjin also made Minho and I buy extra drinks.” 

It’s silent for a moment, you glance at Jisung for the second time to check if he’s fallen asleep again but you see a very concentrated expression on his face as he looks at the stars. “Are you still drunk?” You shake his arm, immediately getting his attention. 

“Do you like Minho?” He suddenly blurts out, catching you off-guard. What makes matters worse is that he didn’t even spare you a glance while. 

“What?!” You exclaim. At this point, you just regret not drinking your peach soju before joining him. 

“Do you like him? Like like-like as in...hold on, the word like’s getting too redundant here...” In the darkness, Jisung turns beet red the more he looks away from you, not even realizing that you’re equally flushed from trying to hold in your laughter. 

Where is this going? You can only think to yourself as he was rambling. 

“Jisung, I only like Minho when he offers carpool and free drinks when we hang out.” You sit up this time, extending your hand out past him to your soju bottle. You’re definitely drinking to this unusual conversation. “Why did you suddenly think I like him?"

You don’t remember doing anything with Minho that would make Jisung think this way.

Leaning even more towards Jisung’s direction, you see a faint glimpse of his embarrassed expression—his hand covering his eyes as he curses under his breath. You drink a little bit more of your peach soju before nudging him with the bottom of the bottle. “What made you say that?”

“No.” He replies as calmly as he can, hand still covering his face. At that moment, he wishes he could put the horse mask back on quickly so he can run away while hiding his face. 

You try prying his hand away but to no avail. He looks at you on his own accord a moment later but even then he doesn’t hold eye contact for long. 

“It’s silly, just the soju.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Can you lay down again so I don’t have you see your face? Not that the make-up is bad, it’s just really embarrassing when you’re looking down on me like this.” 

You chuckle, amused, but comply eventually when you’ve had enough of your soju. Instead of looking up at the stars, however, you turn your body to the side so you’re facing Jisung this time. 

“Yah—” 

“You said lay down again, I’m laying down.” You tease in between laughs. “Are you seriously not looking at me in the eye?” 

“No!” He whispers loudly in a dramatic fashion, taking his horse mask and balancing it on his face to hide from you. 

You shrug, flicking his horse mask away easily. “Why are you so embarrassed? Best friends talk about this all the time, it’s normal.” You shrug as you say this next, trying to act nonchalant about it as possible. Internally, you’re still processing where this conversation could go. “I’m just wondering how you came to that conclusion? It sounds weird and gross: Minho and I, I mean.” 

Jisung only looks at you quietly for the next 2 minutes, clearly contemplating.��“It’s just...” He starts and you hold your breath, realizing that your faces are really close when he turns his head to your side. “Seriously, it’s silly!” 

You shrug, as nonchalantly as you can seem. “I want to know, it’s n—”

“Ilikeyou.” 

“Hm?” You feel lightheaded, and you definitely feel like you need to pee. Soju works fast that way. 

“I like you...” He says, slower and trailing off this time. He thinks you didn’t notice but you caught the way he glanced briefly down at your lips before going back up to your eyes. “Like really really like you; but we’re always running on different schedules since we entered college and we’ve only ever hung out when my deadlines aren’t heavy enough to make you feel guilty to come over until recently.” 

“...Is that why you’ve been asking to hang out more this semester?” Jisung nods at the simple question. “You wanted to see me that much?” 

“Well, don’t get too cocky now.” He chuckles nervously. Suddenly, he’s overthinking everything, trying to pick apart any hint from the tone of your voice. “Because this would be really really awkward and embarrassing if you keep acting like that then turn me down later.” 

Your heart skips a few beat, you’re sure it’s Jisung now and not the soju kicking in. “Who said...who said anything about me turning you down?” 

Jisung’s thoughts malfunction at this. Suddenly, he’s taking too slow to process anything again. You roll your eyes at this. “Do I have to say it?” 

“...yes?” 

You scrunch up your face in distaste but Jisung doesn’t laugh, making you sigh. “Fuck it, fine.” You take a deep breath, slowly following your words with, “I like you too, Jisung.” 

You look at him expectantly and he returns your gaze with one of disbelief. “R-really?” 

“I just said it, didn’t I?” You flick his forehead. 

“Can I—” 

He leans forward but you stop him with a hand in between the two of you.  “You smell like alcohol.” You whine, pushing him away slightly. 

“But we’re in the dark, under the stars, sorta drunk at a Halloween party; naturally, the next thing that follows is—” 

“Ew, Jisung, gross!” You push him away completely but he only resists, managing to hug you with one arm. 

“You can say that all you want but you already said that you like me too.” Slowly, he gains his confidence back which only just makes you squirm more.  

“Yeah, but you said it first.” You give up from squirming in his grip, realizing that it’s warmer than letting your torso be exposed to the cold for another second. “If anything, I actually have the upper hand here.” 

He shrugs. “So? I actually like saying it. I like you, I like you, I like you...” You open your mouth slightly to comment but he takes this as an opportunity to press a long kiss to your lips. “I like you. There.” 

#stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids au #stray kids oneshot #skz imagines #stray kids oneshots #stray kids scenario #skz imagine #skz scenario #skz au #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz scenarios #jisung #han jisung #han #stray kids jisung imagine #stray kids jisung scenario #stray kids jisung au #skz jisung imagine #skz jisung scenario #skz jisung au #skz jisung imagines #skz jisung scenarios #skz jisung fluff #stray kids jisung fluff #jisung imagine #stray kids imagine

[strikethematch18]

Dadzawa x F! Reader - Over Worked & Tired Part 2

After your shower which made you feel a little better than before as the act of cleaning the accruing sweat and radiating germs from your body. Your next step was hoisting yourself out of the shower base and to a position you can dry your body and get dressed. This would be an awfully awkward thing for your teacher to help you with, so this task left you on your own. 

It took a little bit of time and effort but eventually, you did manage to dry your body. The next step was to put the fresh clothes Aizawa left for you on your body, they were definitely comfortable and comforting. This took a little less bit of energy but still took a lot. After sitting for a moment on the seat on the toilet you stood up to face your weakness and the overpowering world spinning. 

You open the door to the bathroom quietly and slowly make your way down a hallway holding on to the wall for added support. It wasn’t long until you heard the quick steps of your professor coming from what you could assume was the kitchen in order to give you added support and led you over to a couch already made with pillows and a new blanket which made you frown slightly.

In your moment of help, you couldn’t help feeling a little guilty, “Y/N, you should have gotten my attention, and I would have been helped you sooner so you didn’t exert nearly as much energy and strength.”

Picking up on your frown Azaiwa said, “it’s just in the wash, I figured it would help and it would make it a little softer. Same thing with your clothes”

“Oh okay, thanks,” you responded weakly.

He stood in front of you and crouched down to your sitting level, “Do you think you could eat a little soup for me kid? It’s chicken noodle so it’s going to be easy on you. I know you’re not the biggest rice fan.”

Aware that you hadn’t eaten in a few days you responded, “Yeah I can try.”

As he walks away you begin to acknowledge how cold you feel but you know it’s a drawback of your fever. Truthfully you didn’t want to eat anything, what you wanted was to curl up in that blanket and sleep, but you weren’t about to let Azaiwas cooking efforts go to waste, and you putting it off any longer probably wouldn’t help your case either, so complying seemed like your best option here. In your slowed thinking you hadn’t realized Azaiwa was just arriving in front of you holding two bowls preparing to hand one to you.

You took the bowl with the spoon in it and were surprised to see your teacher taking a seat in front of you on the floor looking up at you with his own soup which confused you slightly. Had you not been sick and unable to concentrate or focus you may be able to comprehend what he was doing.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to eat by yourself, makes it a little less awkward, plus I’m a little hungry myself,” he said in his gruff normal monotone voice.

“Thanks for that, it actually means a lot,” you replied before taking a spoonful of the soup and eating it.

The meal took place in silence, you slowly eating your chicken noodle soup not wanting to rush yourself as you weren’t really all that hungry plus it felt like a lot of food. As Azaiwa eats his own he examines you in your sick form, He couldn’t help but feel responsible for this, he did push his students as far as they could but he didn’t see just how much he was taking and pushing Y/N. He tried not to show favoritism among his students, but he couldn’t help but care for you as though you were his own child. Really he just wanted you to be happy.

Spooning soup into his mouth, he began to think about the information he had read in your file over the years. He knew that your home life wasn’t all that great. Evidence that you were often left alone for days alone with no real-life knowledge of how to take care of yourself and a house. Your mom was an alcoholic and would have repeating men over that would verbally abuse you, and you did live with anxiety and major depression, but you didn’t know that he knew, all because it was in your student file. He remembered that he is going to have to do some updating to it now that he knows symptoms of the overuse of your quirk.

He noticed you had put your bowl in your lap looking down as though you were deep in thought, perhaps even getting down on yourself. Until he saw that you managed to eat only half the soup he had given you. As he quickly finished his bowl he then proceeded to stand up and gently take the bowl from you.

“Hey kid, it’s alright, you managed to eat something, we can do this again later when you feel up to it okay? I’m proud you made it this far.”

You looked up at him and nodded slightly to demonstrate your agreement on the matter.

After taking them back to his kitchen and in the sink the teacher sighed, he knew you felt terrible, but he was hoping for a little improvement on this, but this just showed you were working on it. He walked back into the living room and saw you still in the same position as before just sitting in a dazed state, but now he noticed your visible shivering from the fever you no doubt had. He put a hand on your forehead and once again you leaned into is getting a little bit of pleasure from the coldness to you. What he noticed was that you felt warmer than you had before and sighed. 

He walked away and headed to the bathroom and into a medicine cabinet. He grabbed a thermometer and ibuprofen and Tylenol, unsure of what would help the circumstances more. Once he got back to you he crouched down in front of you again as you hugged yourself giving the illusion of creating a little warmth.

“Y\N, I need you to open your mouth and stick this under your tongue so I can check your temperature, okay? See what we’re working with.”

As it beeped he discovered the results were very undesirable, 102.4 degrees Fahrenheit, starting to get into dangerous levels. The time was approximately 6:00 in the morning and right about now would usually be preparing to train you in combat before classes for the day, but today is different for the obvious reasons. The teacher sighed as he debated on the blanket or not, but it would make you more comfortable so he left it for you,

“Alright, kid, why don’t you lay down and get some sleep. You’re staying here for the time being at least until I deem you well enough to go back to your dorm. Now, what works better for a fever reducer for you, ibuprofen or Tylenol?” he said and asked as he held the bottles up.

After releasing a small cough you responded with, “Tylenol works better for me.”

And with a quick motion, he took two out of the bottle and handed them to you take along with a bottle of water. You gave him a small smile of gratitude. And after you swallowed he set the bottles down and helped guide you to laying down knowing that to you, you must feel incredibly heavy and weak. Started with your upper body making sure your head hit the pillow, then helped lift your legs onto the cushions. He proceeded to take the blanket and placing it on top of your frame to provide that extra bit of comfort.

“Why don’t you close your eyes and get some sleep kid. I’ll be here when you wake up, if I’m not in here directly find a way to let me know.”

“Okay Mr. Azaiwa, but what about classes today, shouldn’t you be there instead of here taking care of silly old me?” you said with a small laugh that leads to a coughing fit.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N, I’ll figure it out, right now you are my priority. Now go to sleep little one”:

And with that, you closed your eyes and your breathing slowed as you snuggled into the couch and pillow while wrapping yourself in the provided blanket. He sighed and took another look at the time, Roughly a quarter after 6. He knew Present Mic would be around in a little over an hour and a half as the human alarm clock with his projecting voice for teachers and students. He knew he was going to have to stop him this time since he knew you really needed the uninterrupted sleep and he knew it was essential to getting you healthy. In the meantime, he decided it was in his best interest to take a small nap and unwrapped one of his many sleeping bags and laid down in it on the floor next to you.

In about an hour and 15 minutes he woke up and got up to wait in the hallway to see Present Mic and ask him to not do his normal routine and explain the situation. Later in the day, he had plans to retrieve your laptop to email your professors at the American college and also speak to principle Nezu to alert him of the situation at hand, also he was supposed to alert him anytime a modification was to be made to a students file.

After a few more minutes Present Mic exited his room and was surprised to see his friend already out of his room and headed over to him.

“Hey Hizashi, anyway I can talk you out of doing your normal wake up routine?” Azaiwa asked.

“I mean sure, but why?” the other teacher proceeded to ask.

“I’ve got a very sick student crashing on my couch right now. She has been overworking herself and been trying to function on next to no sleep and forgot to eat in the mix of it. I brought her back here to keep an eye on her.”

“It wouldn’t happen to be Y/N would it? She’s the American girl also working on her college degree right?” Hizashi asked.

“Yeah, that’s the student. I guess she at the end of the semester and is struggling a bit. I think she’s also been depending on her quirk more and has been overusing it. Speaking of which, you know how the symptoms of that were missing from her student file? Well, I finally found out tonight.”

“Well shit man, what are they?”

“From the information, she gave me they are usually a lack of focus, occasional headache, and often night terrors and the extra fatigue. I’ll be going to Nezu here in a bit since it will be a modification to her file.”

“Alright man, I’ll spread the news to ask I wake the other teachers up.”

“Thanks for that Hizashi, and would you mind helping out covering my classes today. I want to keep a close eye on the kid. Has a fever of 102 degrees and is really struggling,” Awaiza asked to hope for the best.

“Yeah no problem Shota, just take care of the kid and let me know if you need anything else from me,” and with that, he walked off to start his morning wake-up calls.

With this taken care of, he proceeded to walk back into the apartment and see Y/N still sleeping soundly and decided to crawl back into his sleeping back, hoping to achieve some sleep himself, as he too needed some sleep in order to help her.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #aizawa #shota aizawa #aizawa shota #dadzawa #anime #short stories #myheroacademia #my hero academia short story #boku no hero academia short stories #bnha #mha #aizawa father #aizawa teacher #easerhead #earserhead story

[princessmariaphiliper]

THE SLEEPOVER FIC | Part 5 The Contemplating

Notes: James Acaster, Original characters, No warnings this week just some good innocent fluff. I lied. I mention babestation twice, one day I will write something innocent. 

Pairing: James Acaster x Reader 

Genre: Fluff with eventual smut, Slow Burn fic

Words: 2,439

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

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

The following Sunday morning you awoke to sunrise draping lazily through your cream curtains. Pulling the duvet back you dragged yourself out of bed with a soft stretch. Making your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You looked out your window at the dusty London street. 

It was going to be a pleasant day today. Temperature making its way up to the mid-twenties. So late last night you had decided you would have a day outdoors. You had some writing to do for a project you were planning therefore you’d figured today was as good as any to start. Brushing your teeth idly you started your, now rather frequent, internal dialogue on James. 

Your mind had been running circles since Wednesday evening and the kiss he’d given you on his way out. Part of you kept telling yourself that ‘maybe this was just a way he said goodbye to people’. After all, the two of you hadn’t had a sober goodbye up until that point. Perhaps it was just his formalities. And it wasn’t as if he’d called or even dropped you a text since then to indicate a romantic gesture. But the other half of you could help read between the lines of his subtle touches you could still feel on your skin.

Washing your face and leaving the room you moved to your wardrobe. Pulling out an oversized white tee and dark wash jeans. You began to get dressed. Considering where you might like to go today. After some deliberation you decided on the coffee house beside Camden lock. You sat down at your desk, putting on some concealer, liner and brushing up your eyebrows. You looked into your y/e/c eyes, edging the spoolie in between your fingers and resting your chin in both hands. Letting out a large sigh, the confusion continued.

You’d always considered yourself to know right from wrong. However, your thoughts of James had lately been trivial to that. Although you knew that James wasn’t happy in his relationship, that didn’t mean that his partner wasn’t. This was yet another hurdle of guilt that was blocking you from admitting growing feelings for James. But as much as you blocked it from your mind, you couldn’t block out the way James made you feel. A sense of calm, giddiness and as though you had known him all your life. Yet it had only just been one week since you first met. 

Dropping your hand and sighing you shook the thoughts from your head. Brushing your hair quickly, grabbing your laptop bag and heading out for the day. 

The air was warm, the sun shining down onto the streets as you stepped out from your apartment complex. You inhaled, sucking in the early summer air. It was busy on the streets, as it usually was on a Sunday in London. Many people basking in the final day on their trips before getting the train home. You would always recognise how lucky you were to have the chance to live in such a vibrant city, doing the work that you loved. Trotting with a skip in your step to your local tube station. A smile across your face from your blessing. 

The tube, as always, was muggy and dirty. Passing a burst of carbonated air through every once in a while. But eventually you made it to Camden station and were able to bask in the sunlight once again. You made your way up Camden market, the bright colours above the stylistic storefronts. People weaving past as you pushed through the crowd, heading straight up towards the lock. 

After some time of fighting past bodies you reached the lock, the filthy black bars and open arms of the coffee shop embracing you on arrival. You ordered your usual drink, nestling down onto a free table in the outside seating area. Under a parasol in the corner.

There were lots of people sitting and chatting around you, enjoying the sunshine with each other's company. You people watched for a while, taking pleasure in voyeurism was one of your favourite things to do in the city. It was filled with an array of characters, outside the restraints of the cafe’s fencing. The lining of the lock was littered with people, sitting, eating and drinking casually. There was a young couple beside you, seemingly on a first date, their conversation awkward and laced with anxiety. Reminding you subconsciously of how alone you were. Not only in this moment, but somewhat in day to day life.

Mostly working during the day, you hardly indulged in the thought of spending your time going on dates, let alone falling in love with someone. After your previous relationship you needed time for yourself. To learn, grow and understand who you were as a person. And yet here you were, years down the line having done all these things. Working alone in a coffee shop, surrounded by people in love. You pondered the idea for a moment, staring at the half drafted document on the screen of your laptop before beginning to type.

Comically however, just as you did so, your phone started to buzz from the pocket of your jeans. You reached inside, studying the caller ID before you answered. It was Olive, you pressed it to your ear. 

“Olive” 

“Hi lovely, I just wondered what you’re up to today?”

“Not much, I’m just starting the Eraser project I told you about the other day. I was going to send you the proposal a little later to see if you're on the same page with my thinking”

“Oh, brilliant, I was actually going to ask if you wanted to meet up over coffee to talk about it. I could come by yours in about an hour if that's okay?”

“I’m actually not in at the moment, I’m in Camden, I can meet you somewhere if you like though?” 

“Camden sounds lovely on a day like today. I’ll come down and meet you there!” 

“Alright perfect, I’ll text you the cafe I’m at when you set off?” 

“That's great thank you, I’ll see you soon.” The phone cut out, leaving only the hubbub of people as your background noise. With a smile you began to type once again, grateful for someone to  subside your lonely feeling. 

Olivia arrived about forty five minutes after your initial call, the second call being moments ago when she couldn’t find you in the seating area. She was wearing a jade kimono that had an intricate peacock pattern on top of a black cotton jumpsuit. Paired with embellished sandals as well as multiple chunky bracelets. She gave you a warm smile as you waved at her above the sea of people. 

“Y/n!” she said, making her way over and sitting across from you. A cup of jasmine tea in her hand. 

“Hello lady Olivia,”

“How have you been?” 

“On off, how about you?”

“About the same, grateful for the sunshine!” She exclaimed, raising her hands passionately in the air. 

“So.”

“So” You grinned at one another, excited to be discussing a new creative project. “What are your thoughts”

“I think first of all it should be filled with colour. Hopefully, if all goes well, we’ll be able to set up an open air theatre by the end of summer, just before the kids go back to school. I want flowers and paint and colourful lighting.”

“That sounds amazing, what do you want me to do on the other side of things”

“Well I’d like for you to take a bit more of a writing hat this time around. I think you’re ready for it. I’d like to see what you can create and bounce off of one another that way. I think it’d also be lovely to get a balance between different age perspectives with what were wanting to talk about”

“I’m up for that one hundred percent, I’ll be the old crone you need whenever you need it love” You laughed at her choice of words, not having intended your statement in that way but nonetheless you appreciated her humour. “How long until you’re wanting to book a space for making?” 

“I can get us one by next week if you want?” 

“Yeah that's fine by me.” 

The initial project proposal you’d brought forward was to explore gender and sexuality through growth. With memoirs, dance and music that was reminiscent of your own identity. You’d been brewing on the project for some time now. Unsure of how to put it into the world with its fullest potential. Then, you’d been working with Olivia and watching her grow at a later stage in life, you’d brought back out the project with a new filter. Wanting to go on a journey of creating ‘Eraiser’ along with her. The creative juices were flowing. You were on your third drink of the day, now accompanied with a muffin as your stomach had begun to rumble. You’d been brainstorming stories and concept ideas, bouncing off one another for a while when your phone began pinging on the table. It was a text from James causing you to do a secret giddy dance. The message that came through that read,

Are you in Camden? 

I am, why? 

Initially confused by how he knew your location before an image of you and Olivia from a distance came through. You smiled at the sound of his voice calling out your name above the early afternoon sun. 

“Y/n!”

“James!” You responded, him making his way towards your table. You stood from your chair as he came closer, embracing him in a hug. James was dressed in a pair of yellow canvas shorts and a white tee to match your own. He enclosed his arms around you. Being slightly taller he was able to naturally rest his chin atop of your head. 

“How’ve you been?” He murmured, placing a stealthy half kiss in your hair, before you released one another from the embrace. 

“I’m alright how are you?” 

“Okay thanks, you smell nice by the way” An offhand comment that made your hands curl around your middle finger. 

“This is Olivia, my co-worker. Olive, James”

“Lovely to meet you” James held out a hand to shake Olivia’s. Once again causing you to question his ambition by how he interacted with her in contrast to you. From the handshake to the lack of speaking her name in a sentence as he did with you. You regained your seat as the two chatted.

“You too James. Might you be James from the telly?” 

“Depends what channels you’re into.”

“Babestation?”

“Thats me”

“Have a seat,” She offered as the three of you chuckled, pointing to an empty table behind him. Accepting the invite to the table graciously James grabbed a chair and sat down beside you. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Just having a meeting, enjoying the sunshine.” You squinted up towards the sky. 

“Oh sorry, I’m not interrupting am I?”

“No no,” Olivia spoke with a slightly devilish grin, “We were about finished I think.” 

This was a lie, you had been in the middle of explaining something to her when James had texted you. Knowing the implication behind her smile you rolled her eyes. It was going to be a long story to tell her once James had left. She continued, 

“So where did the two of you meet?” 

“We have a mutual friend, we met last friday for some drinks.” James nodded in agreement, mumbling a, some under his breath with a shake of his head. “What’re you doing here?” 

“Oh you know, getting out of the flat while it's nice out. I’ve been working all week so haven't had a chance to see many people that I don't have to be funny for” 

You felt slightly guilty but somewhat better about the fact that James hadn’t called since Wednesday. Selfishly forgetting he was a busy man, attempting to balance working to please people with a crumbling relationship. Not wanting him to feel lonely or burnt out. “Grab a drink if you like, I don’t mind not laughing at your jokes.” You responded sarcastically, however your intention was somewhat laced with care. James flashed you a kind smile, eyebrows raised in excitement. He placed his hands on the table, squaring his elbows in a half stand. 

“Only if you’re sure, I don't want to impose!” 

“No please join us, Y/n is not as interesting company as a real life pornstar” Olivia joked, causing a ripple of smiles and a light ‘fuck off’ to roll from your tounge. James stood from his seat with a ‘I won't be long’. The two of you watched him disappear into the cafe before Olivia turned to you with a knowing look on her face. You sighed, taking a sip of your drink. 

“So, is he good in bed?” 

“We haven’t had sex,”

“You should, he’s dishy” 

“It's not like that,” You trailed off “He has a girlfriend.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah… but it's complicated apparently”

“How so?” 

You explained as briefly as you could the events of the past week or so. Trying to watch out for how close James was getting towards the front of the line inside. After your word vomit Olivia’s grin was back. 

“So you like him then?” 

“I-” You contemplated, not having audibly admitted your thoughts for him yet. And the idea that you would have to face him in a couple minutes after doing so made you nervous. “It’s confusing.” you settled with. 

“It doesn’t have to be Y/n” 

Silently agreeing, you observed James as he ordered his drink now. Standing gently with one hand in his pocket, the other placed on the counter, his pelvis angled towards the window you were looking in from. Olivia continued, 

“Listen to me. I’m twice your age love, and I know it might sound complicated and terrifying now but you’ll regret the things you didn’t try for when you’re my age. He seems lovely and it's clearly something that you want. You’ve been around him for less than ten minutes and your face has been lit up since he arrived. Even if its short lived its worth a shot, plus, it looks like he's into you”

“You don’t know that” 

“Please, the way he had his hands around you earlier. I was practically gushing” 

James had started making his way back to the two of you now holding an iced tea in his palm. He flashed you a smile as he came through the door. 

“Just think about it.” Olive started again with a wink, “Because if you don’t, I might”

Thank you to all the lovelies who have been following the fic so far. I’ve been posting now every other day just to try get better quality of writing so hopefully yall are coping with that. Let me know any thoughts you have about the fic. I’m also taking James x Reader oneshot requests via DM’s so if you have anything you need desperately to be manifested I’m your gal. 

- Princess Maria :)))))

Taglist @josies-polestar @queensantiagoofthe99 

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

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

[writingsfromhome]

Seaside Surprise

A/N: trying a fluffy fic, Y/N and Harry attend a cousin's wedding and you wonder when it's going to be your turn.

"Ms. Y/L/N?" My assistant pokes her head into my office. She has on the type of grin on her face that I know what she's going to say. "Your boyfriend's here."

"Of course he is," I decide I wasn't going to finish this report tonight after all. I asked Harry to wait in the car but of course he came up and charmed his way to my department. Not that my department minded, they were always bursting to see him. "Tell him I'll be a moment."

I slide my laptop into its case and do a quick touch up before heading out. "Hey," I give him a loving smile but my eyes are warning him.

"Hello love," he purposely ignores my warning and gives me a peck. "You've got a lovely staff."

I can practically hear the swooning so I just grab his jacket and haul him off the chair. "They're all very lovely. Let's go before we're late. Happy weekend everyone!"

"Bye ladies," Harry stays behind and rushes to catch up. He puts his hand on the small of my back as he reaches me. "Jealous?"

"No, I just don't know why you lead them on whenever you come up here."

"Well they know their boss is my girlfriend," Harry tugs me to him and kisses the top of my head. "It's nice getting to know the people you work with."

"If that's what you want to call it," I give up on the argument. "Do you think we'll get there by 6?"

"Traffic's not as bad if we hurry, rehearsal dinner's at 7 so that's the latest."

As we step into the lift and go down to the parking garage, I think about the destination ahead. A cousin of mine was getting married, they'd rented out this old castle where a lot of the guests were staying. It sounded magical--getting married in a castle.

I look at Harry, who's backing out and starting the two hour journey there. We met a few years ago and aside from some uncertainty at the beginning, we've been going strong for four years. We talked about kids and our dream weddings but I never fully knew whether he wanted to get married. Or if he was one of the don't fix what isn't broke type. I've always secretly wanted the big wedding so I never asked Harry in case he didn't want that. It would be crushing.

"What are you so quiet about?" Harry glances over.

"Oh just thinking, about the wedding tomorrow. Dinner tonight. I'm going to see a bunch of my family, that stuff."

"Hm," he hums. To avoid further conversation I turn on the radio and settle in for the drive.

***

With traffic we barely make it for 7, having just enough time to look decent before heading to the dining hall. I'm excited seeing all my family and I tear up as we all gather around and catch up over dinner. We're given reminders for tomorrow and the timeline even though we all had the schedule sent to our phones.

"Are you crying again?" Harry leans in. All night he stayed by my side, his arm around me or his hand on my knee. It was comforting having him by my side.

"I'm trying not to," I dab at my eyes with the napkin. "I'm just so happy for everyone."

Harry squeezes my thigh, "You're such a romanticist as much as you deny it."

I look up at him, my heart skips a beat like we were young lovers. I felt incredibly lucky to have him and I want to tell him so I kiss him. "I am. And I'm glad you're here."

"Get a room!" One of my cousins shouts as Harry's about to respond. We break apart laughing and they tease us until we're visibly flustered. What was family for after all.

Later that night as I pin up my wet hair to sleep in, Harry sits up in bed and watches. "Is that for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, so I have nice curls in the morning. The ones you like."

"Hmm, you'll look beautiful tomorrow whatever way you do your hair." Harry says. "Even if you cut off all your hair. I would still love the way you look."

By then I was done so I get into bed beside Harry. "Is that what you want me to do? For me to cut off all my hair?"

Harry cups my face and presses a gentle kiss on my lips. He leans back and I watch his eyes on me. His thumb strokes the side of my face, when it was just the two of us like this. Quiet and alone, with Harry's undivided attention on me, I couldn't help but feel shy. So I grab his hand off my face and thread my fingers through his to have something to do. He finally responds, "I want you to do what you want."

"Well...what do I want..." I think.

"What do you want?" Harry asks back. And I have a feeling we weren't talking about hairstyles anymore. I look away, could he sense the lead up go the wedding has me thinking about him and I. Where we were headed?

"A nice holiday from work, away from the city. A cute puppy, maybe three. Hm what else...world peace, a nicer boyf-"

Harry cuts me off before I could get to the joke. He kisses me so hard I forget anything else I was going to say.

***

The next morning is blurry chaos and I hardly believe I'm standing at the front watching my cousin walk down the aisle in her beautiful ivory dress. I can't help it, I tear up as my heart overflows when she reaches the front and I scan the crowd for my own love. Harry also has tears in his eyes and he's beaming at me. I smile through the tears and focus my attention to the front.

As soon as the newly married couple walk down the aisle the bridesmaids burst into tears. We hug each other, we were all so happy. I find Harry in the crowd and both of our mushy romantics feelings are just heightened by everyone else. Being in love never felt so good than at a wedding surrounded by everyone you do love.

I tell Harry I'll catch up later, heading off with the bridesmaids to help the bride change for the reception.

"So when is Harry going to pop the question?" My cousin asks as I hold her dress in my hands. "How long have you two been dating?"

"Four years," I say self consciously. My cousin dated her husband for two years before he proposed.

"Do you want to get married?" One of the bridesmaid asks.

"Duh," my cousin answers for me. "Y/N remember when we were kids and we made flower crowns and pretended to have fairy weddings?"

"Oh my god," The memory rushes forward. "I forgot about that."

"That's what adulthood does," someone else says. "Makes you forget all your dreams."

"Well it's not like we haven't talked about it," I feel like I have to defend Harry. "It just hasn't been the right time."

"After three years, any time is the right time." Someone else says. I try to brush off but the comments stay with me. Was there something wrong with us, with me, that Harry wasn't proposing?

Halfway through the reception, I catch Harry talking to the groom and I wait around but he doesn't notice so I interrupt them. They both look guilty.

"Hey, congrats, welcome to the family!" I hug the groom but eye them both. "Why do you two seem suspicious?"

"We do?" Harry asks. "You need to let loose, let's dance."

I keep an eye on him but he acts normal, pulling me onto the sparse dancefloor. He tries to make me laugh with his dancing and eventually I give in.

"What's wrong?" He asks later, as the songs slow down. I rest my head on his shoulder, so he doesn't see my face. He always knew when I was lying.

"Nothing," I lie.

"Something's been bothering you since we drove here yesterday. What is it?" Harry asks again.

I sigh. "It's nothing! Just leave it."

Harry doesn't say anything, he just holds me closer. I feel selfish and ungrateful. I had a man who loved me holding me close but I wanted more. Just because everyone couldn't stop commenting on our love life.

Harry tries to cheer me up and I try my best but my mood from the morning shines through only so much. Harry doesn't push it though, even when I crawl into bed while he showers and pretend to fall asleep when he gets out. He just leaves me with a kiss on my cheek and falls asleep beside me.

***

"Morning," Harry says as I wake up groggy and tired from all the dancing in heels I did last night. Harry is up, and ready.

"When did you get up?" I sit up.

"Not too long ago."

"You're dressed," I point out.

"And starving! Get dressed we can get breakfast. We have to be out of here by noon."

I move like a snail, trying to work up the energy for the day. It's sad to say goodbye to everyone, it was rare for everyone to be in the same place at the same time and I was going to miss it. We get back on the road by 11. The breeze whips my hair around but I close my eyes and embrace the beautiful weather.

"Having fun?" Harry asks but I can barely hear him in the roar of the wind.

"Country air really is superior," I sit back inside. I notice we were still on back roads. "Are you sure we're going in the right direction?"

"Yes, I've got the maps pulled up."

"I think we're lost," I lean towards the phone but it shows we're on the mapped path. "Harry pull over we should look at this again."

"Y/N, we're not lost."

"Because you know this area so well? We're supposed to be on main roads by now!"

"We'll get there," Harry says calmly and it frustrates me how calm he was. I just knew we weren't heading right.

"Just pull over, at least we can know for sure."

"Just trust me, we're not lost."

"Oh my god," I look around us. "You're being really bloody stubborn Harry! I know this town and we're not driving through it like we should."

Harry doesn't respond. Like I was an annoying fly buzzing about. I cross my arms and look out the window. "If we get lost, don't ask me for help." I say my final piece and decide to ignore him back. He had the audacity to chuckle at me. I want to take my seatbelt off and strangle him with it!

As we drive further and further in the wrong direction, a cooler breeze filters into the windows.

"I think we're by the water," I sit up, my fight forgotten.

"How do you know?" Harry asks.

"Because I'm part mermaid and I know we're going in the wrong bloody direction!"

"You're so impatient," Harry mutters just as he takes a turn and a parking space comes into view. Were we headed here the whole time?

I look at Harry who has a secret smile on his face. As soon as he parks I take off his sunglasses to read him better.

"Where are we?" I can't hide the excitement. Did he plan a surprise getaway?

"You'll see," Harry walks out and opens my door for me. He holds my hand as we make our way in his direction.

"I've never been here before, when did you plan this?" I continue asking as we walk further.

"I have to cover your eyes," he says. He pulls out his tie from the wedding and I close my eyes. When I open them, it's completely dark except for a small sliver of light on the top. I listen out for Harry's distinct voice.

"Just keep walking," he instructs. "Hold my hand, you'll probably fall if you don't."

"I probably will," I laugh. "You should've told me about this, I would've packed a picnic."

"Then it wouldn't be a surprise," Harry squeezes my hand. "Okay stand here and don't take it off until I say so." His sentence fades out as he moves behind me. My heart was racing on our walk here but now it's beating out of my chest, this was why I sort of hated surprises. It made my palms slick and heart race like I was on a roller coaster.

I strain to hear Harry, the sea laps gently to the right and I can't stop my foot from tapping away in anticipation.

"Take it off," Harry says. I push it off and my breath catches.

A picnic is laid out with two baskets and a bottle on ice. But it's the chalkboard propped up in the sand that catches me by surprise. I read it, twice: marry me?

I gasp and turn around, Harry kneels on one knee and in his hands is a small velvet box, a gorgeous diamond nestled in the cloth.

"Y/N, I don't know why it took me so long to finally ask you. But will you make me the luckiest man alive and marry me?"

My voice gets stuck in my thoat as my eyes water. I just nod, that's all I could do. I drop down in front of him and pull him in, the burst of tears following suite. As he wraps his arms around me. I finally find my voice, "Yes! Of course a million yesses! I though you...I never thought you'd ask. When did you plan all this?!"

I can feel Harry's laugh. He pulls me apart, I didn't even care I probably had snot and tears on my face because the man I love takes my hand and slips the ring on my finger. I was his to-be forever. He wanted to marry me! And all my fretting over the weekend was for no reason!

"I've been planning this for weeks. I found this place and your family helped set it up this morning that's why I was up so early." He points to the distance and two people stand there waving with their cameras.

"Oh my god Harry, this is the happiest day of my life," I kiss him with everything in me. He made me so happy. I can't believe I doubted us.

"Mine too," he slowly leans me back onto the picnic blanket but I remember my family and push him off. He laughs at my embarassment. "I'll tell them to leave. Then we can have our fun?"

"Hurry back," I watch him run in their direction. They end up walking back worh him. to drop off his camera and to say congrats. As soon as they disappear into the horizon I climb onto Harry's lap and just hold his face. "You make me the happiest girl in the world. The entire universe. I love you so so so much." I kiss him with ever "so".

"Just me and you against the world forever," Harry whispers.

"Sounds perfect." I whisper back.

Harry's eyes are shining. We could hardly contain our feelings for each other, how happy we were. I lean back and form my hands into a rectangle frame. I pretend to capture it which makes Harry laugh and pull me back to him, "Just come here so I can kiss my fiancée."

My heart soars just hearing the word.

#Harry Styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #fic #one shot

[hisunshiine]

—trade secrets |myg|

⟢ pairing: CEO!Yoongi x Assistant!Reader 

⟢ word count: 3.4k 

⟢ genre + warnings: coworkers to lovers au || nsfw 18+ some angast, smut, & fluff: 𝘴𝘮𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧™️; explicit sex: kissing, oral f. receiving, fingering, spanking, unprotected vaginal penetration, creampie, semi-public sex (office, bathroom)  

⟢ summary: you’ve been pining over your boss forever, but when you and he finally cross that line, it’s not exactly all hearts and rainbows. 

⟢ authors note: originally posted to twitter, i hope you enjoy!

Sat at your desk, you shuffled the papers neatly in order to staple them at the top left hand corner. The finished report was for the 2:30 PM meeting, and your boss would be needing it by 1 PM to review it for his presentation. Out of all of the assistants for the department, he trusted you the most. After several years of working for the company, you were basically Min Yoongi’s personal assistant, despite there being 3 of you to serve the 3 project managers. 

This had been a foreign concept when you had first joined the company, used to being assigned to a specific manager at your old job, but you enjoyed this set up so much more. It allowed you to help each other handle all of the tasks as a group, being more efficient. It also helped with having days off, without it impacting work since there were still 2 assistants who knew what was going on no matter what projects were being handled. But for Min Yoongi, you were his favorite. 

Of course, out of the other 2 project managers, Park Jimin and Jung Hoseok, you felt like Yoongi was your favorite too. Ever since starting, you had just gravitated towards him. He was the complete opposite of his coworkers, who were both loud and rambunctious. This didn’t mean Yoongi didn’t also get loud, on the contrary, he could definitely raise his voice, but he was typically calm and quiet, often sitting back and listening before speaking. 

You on the other hand, were definitely more like Jimin and Hoseok. You supposed this was why you liked Yoongi so much. He balanced out your wild nature, the calming flower to settle your fluttering butterfly wings on and just… rest. Not that he knew any of this. Yoongi was blind to the way that you pined after him.

“Y/N, do you have that report ready?” Yoongi’s voice, a honeyed, low sound reverberated in the space above your head, and you looked up, startled. So caught up in the daydream that always took over when you were fresh from the carbload of lunch, you felt yourself heat up as the star of the very daydream held his calloused hand out to you.

“Oh, y-yes, Yoongi-ssi, right here.”

You gathered up the report you had recently stapled and placed it in his waiting hand as he cleared his throat, nimble fingers straightening his tie. How one subtle movement could send your body into overdrive made no sense to you, but his eye contact conveyed so much more than just a look. It filled you with a heat that had nothing to do with the summer temperatures.

“Thank you… I’ll get you when it’s time for the meeting.” His free hand lightly brushed your forearm, lingering, leaving a burning sensation in its wake. You wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in his touch, a fire spreading across your body.

The meeting went off without a hitch, as you knew it would, and slowly you packed up the conference room of the equipment that had been used for the presentation. As the assistant to the project managers, you were privy to all the plans, and knew that you would be working non-stop the next few weeks to help get everything done for the managers. Their project was approved by their CEO, and you knew starting tomorrow, it would be all engines go.

Pushing the cart with the projector and company laptop back out into the hallway, you watched as the managers walked off ahead of you, headed to their separate offices—located next to each other—as you wheeled the tech cart back to the IT wing.

“Thank you so much Jungkook!” You smiled at your best friend of 8 years, who had helped you and one of the other assistants, set up the presentation slides on the new system Jimin had wanted to utilize. A tall, muscular nerd, (who also happened to be dating the other said assistant) your best friend pushed his glasses a little higher up his nose as he took the cart from you.

“Not a problem, babe. Hey.. what did Yoongi think of your skirt?” He whispered, winking at you.

“He didn’t even bat an eye. It’s pointless, Kook. He’s never gonna notice me.” You sigh, bending at the waist to lean against his desk. Your elbows braced your weight as you wiggled your hips.

“Well maybe if you did this little dance for him, he would.”

You laugh.

“No way, so I can get sent to HR for sexual harassment training? Please. That retraining video is a snooze fest.” You continue swaying side to side, more so to stretch out the kink in your lower back from sitting so long working on the presentation than anything, when Jungkook’s eyes grow impossibly bigger. He said nothing though; you assumed he’s reacting to your words about the harassment video. That is, until a voice cut through the silence.

“Y/N, u-uhm.. When you’re done with IT, can you—actually, I can, uhm, I can handle it myself.”

You had just managed to take in the sight of a shocked Min Yoongi, eyes focused on your ass as you put it on display, before he was whirling from the room, his pale porcelain skin a blotchy red.

Jungkook’s laughter cut through the embarrassed silence as you stand up, hands covering your face as you cringe internally at what had just happened. Leaving Jungkook’s office a few minutes later, you couldn’t help but smile a little bit through the mortification at the way Yoongi stuttered as he stared at your ass.

-

“Y/N, can you email me over the notes from the meeting yesterday?” 

Yoongi paused on his way out of the office at your desk, several days after the mishap in Jungkook’s IT department. He hadn’t appeared to be affected when you had seen him back on your side of the building not even 10 minutes after the incident, and had seemed rather nonplussed once you had made it back to your desk and began sorting through your tasks. Now that several days had passed, you had also gone back to acting normal. If normal consisted of the secret pining over your boss and complaining to your best friend and his girlfriend at happy hour that yet again another ploy to catch Yoongi’s eye had failed. 

“I’ll have the info emailed over to you now.”

“Thanks; I’m headed out to grab lunch, do you want anything?”

You smiled at him, shaking your head no. 

“I brought something to eat, but thank you Yoongi-ssi.”

Yoongi began to walk away towards the elevators when he stopped and turned to face you.

“Can you stay late tonight? We have our first deadline for the project and the other two girls can’t stay.” 

You felt your heart—the very one in your chest that had just started to beat faster—slow it’s rate. He had asked the other girls first, and you felt disappointment at being a last minute ask. You were confused at first as to why the other girls couldn’t stay, until you remembered that there were only two of you today anyways; the third being Jungkook’s girlfriend, and they were gone on a “baecation” to Jeju Island for the weekend.

“No problem, boss. Um, actually, can I change my mind about lunch then? I can save this for dinner.”

He nodded and you texted him your order as he walked off.

-

Time seemed to be moving so slowly, but it was already close to 11 PM. The finishing touches on the first assignment were nearly completed, and if anyone were to walk into his office, they would be able to see that it indeed appeared as if work had been happening. Your lunch turned dinner had been eaten around 6, and Yoongi had ordered takeout around 9, of which empty containers now lay abandoned on surfaces, wooden chopsticks haphazardly positioned in them. 

Papers were strewn along the mahogany desk, laid on the floor as well, and you were ready to be done with this task. Leaning over Yoongi’s shoulder, your eyes were narrow as you scanned the final document for mistakes. You braced yourself with your right forearm, left hand on the back of his computer chair. 

This close to him, you could smell his cologne, a deep musk scent with hints of a sweet vanilla like essence. His hair, ruffled by his hands so many times, looked fucked out with sprouts sticking each way. Your eyes drifted to those hands, handling the mouse and resting on the keyboard, and you licked your lips slowly. 

Everything about him was arousing you at this hour, and you wished that he would take notice of the way your blouse had appeared to unbutton more and more as time had crept by tonight. If he would just turn his head slightly to you... the way you were leaning had your breasts dangerously close to making an appearance. Your thoughts of how hot it would be for him to take you on this desk had your arousal leaking, your panties embarrassingly wet as they clung to your skin.

Letting out an intentionally soft sigh, you adjust your hand on the edge of his desk and form your lips to ask a random made up question, anything to get him to look at you, when he does exactly as you had hoped. His face, close to yours, turns to speak, but the words die in his throat as he takes you in. 

“Yoongi?” Your voice is soft, and you end his name with a bite to your bottom lip, a movement that doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You take a deep breath, knowing how your chest must look from his angle, hoping that the rise and fall would push them forward just the right amount.   

“You..” he clears his throat, eyes on your cleavage shamelessly, “—do you know what you do to me when you tease me like this?”

His eyes snap to yours, pulling a startled gasp from your throat and you stutter a response.

“T-Tease you? I—” Yoongi turned in his chair and his fingers gripped your waist as you stood abruptly.

“Yes.” 

That one word was uttered with a growl before he pulled your lips to his. The kiss was sloppy, a mess of lips fervently moving as tongues sought out the taste of each other. You were on fire, his grip pulling you down onto his lap so that you straddled him. His length strained against his pants, the feel of it twitching in time to your moans against your core. You grinded against him as your lips traveled to his neck, and he tilted his head to give you better access. 

“Do you know—fuck—just how badly you drive me crazy. These skirts, unbuttoned shirts, that fucking display in IT the other day..” his low voice panting out that you had successfully gotten to him. You pulled back, lips glossy and pupils dilated, taking in the red across his cheeks.

“That was an accident, I wasn’t trying to tease you then.”

“Just all the other times.” His eyes glinted.

“I..”

“If you wanted me to fuck you, you should’ve just asked.”

He leaned in again, arms wrapped around you as he connected your lips again. You knew you had to be messing up his pants, but neither of you seemed to care. He groaned, lifting you to stand. 

“I need to be inside of you..” He flipped you, so you faced the desk and folded you at the waist. Chest to the desk, he lifted your skirt up. “I’m over you teasing me, babe. Your turn.”

Yoongi eyed your clothed core, taking note of the wetness that clung to it, running his index finger along your slit until he found your swollen nub. Pressing on it, he traced circles, causing you to squirm. He loved seeing you like this, finally, after all the wet dreams of you, he had you like this: a sopping mess on his desk, whining for more.

He kneels, fingers gripping the edge of your panties and in a swift motion he exposes you.

“Fuck, babe, I can’t wait to fill this cunt...”

You flinch as his warm tongue glides from clit to opening, tasting you, leaving you with an unsuspecting smack to your asscheek. You wiggle, more turned on then you imagined you could be and when he groans in appreciation, you clench, needy.

“Please Yoongi, p-please fuck me.”

You hear him stand and undo his pants, whine when he dips two fingers into you and begins to fuck you with them.

“Not what I want,” you complain like the brat you are, and he chuckles darkly.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be glad I prepped you.” He scissors his fingers, stretching you as your natural lubricant slickens his fingers. The sound of finger fucking would usually make you blush, but you’re too aroused by the naughtiness of it. Your boss, knuckle deep into your throbbing cunt, his handprint on your ass. 

He spits, and you hear his left hand slide up and down his hardened shaft, the sound intertwined with the squelching between your legs. 

“Fuck me, p-please,” you’re begging now, hands gripping the edge of the desk, and you push back into him when you feel the head of his cock line up with your opening.

“Patience, baby.” Yoongi dips just the tip in, shallow fucking you until you’re practically crying from the taunting stimulation.

“Yoongi, I swear to G—oh!”

Yoongi thrusts into you, and your walls suck him in, sliding him in until he bottoms out, his pelvis snug to your ass, and he groans loudly. His hands knead at your ass, pulling your cheeks apart so he can inch deeper, watching the way you wrap around him so nicely, like you were made to take his cock. He pulls out slowly before slamming his hips back into you, enjoying the way you mewl from his cock kissing your cervix. 

It’s like Yoongi transforms into a feral animal, one stroke inside of you and he’s laying on your back, arms wrapping around you to clutch at your breasts as he pistons his hips, fucking into you with all of the strength his ex-basketball playing thighs carry. You feel him bite your back, your shirt softening the blow, but you clench regardless.

“D-Do that again, sweetheart, fuck that felt so good..”

You clench repeatedly, tightening your grip on him, and he feels so good inside of you, your toes are curling, loud exhalations with every thrust; you’re so close.

“Where, uh, where can I—I’m gonna—”

“Inside me, Yoongi, fuck, fill me up, please Daddy,  I want to be full of you..”

He can feel your legs trembling, but Yoongi wants you to break first.

“Cum on my cock, baby.” Yoongi’s hand drops from your chest and it takes only a few figure eights of his finger on your cllit and you’re bursting, white behind your eyelids as you squeeze them shut. Your body tremors, euphoric sensations traveling to every inch of your body as your muscles spaz, and he’s filling you, his thick seed spurting out and overflowing from your swollen core, running down both of your thighs.

-

You and Yoongi ended up back at his place that night, fucking until Saturday afternoon. Sunday night, you checked your phone and saw a text from Yoongi.

[Yoongi-ssi]

Y/N, please don’t think I didn’t enjoy myself… but it can’t happen again. I’m sorry.

You sat there, staring at your phone rereading the message over and over. He was… rejecting you? You hadn’t even voiced to him your feelings. It wasn’t just sexual attraction to him, but after these years with him, you couldn’t help but to have fallen for him. And now that you’d had him, you were head over heels in love with him, all of him. But clearly he didn’t feel the same.

Monday at work, you were quiet, so unlike your usual self. Listening to Jungkook’s girlfriend talk about their trip to Jeju Island, you felt yourself ruminating on the text Yoongi had sent you. Like you had been all night.

“Y/N, is everything okay?” 

You turn quickly, eyes meeting the worried look of your coworker, nodding as you schooled your facial expressions into something more neutral.

“Yea, I just have a migraine. I’m gonna go talk to Yoongi, see if I can go home early.”

You made your way to Yoongi’s office. Knocking gently, his quiet voice beckoned you into the room.

“Hey, um… I think I need to go home early.”

Yoongi, who had his eyes trained on the computer monitor, looked up at you abruptly.

“Are you.. Is everything okay?” his voice was tinged with concern.

“I just.. I think I need a few days off… away from here.” Away from you. 

“Look, Y/N..” Yoongi stood up, coming over to you. He stood there, quiet, eyes taking you in. “Fuck.”

Yoongi kissed you, and you melted into his hold. His hands grasped your forearms, pulling you closer in to him.

‘This can’t happen again’, happened again. And again, and again.

Secret sex with your boss every so often became an almost everyday occurrence, in his office, in his car, in the morning before work when you woke up in his bed, and now, currently pushed up against the wall of the stall in the men’s bathroom.

Yoongi had your legs around his waist, fucking his cock up into you, one hand over your mouth to stifle the sounds escaping your mouth. He had pulled you in here after the last meeting for the project, a celebratory fuck to commence the end of this very time consuming project. Yoongi walked you towards the stall, wanting to brace you against something so he could chase his high. 

As you came, velvety walls pulsing as you rode out your high, the door to the men’s room swung open, and Yoongi disappeared into the stall just in time. He turned and sat on the lid of the toilet, still holding you tightly to him. Shuddering, the orgasm wracked your body as you could hear two guys talking faintly through the hazy post climax glow. 

“God, she’s so hot, maybe I’ll ask her out..” a voice declared, the sound of pissing filling the room. 

“Y/N would never date you,” the other voice laughed, “she’s way out of your league.” Yoongi’s arms tightened imperceptibly around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. He grips your thighs and continues to thrust into you, close to erupting.

“You know that SooHyun is thinking of asking her out. He’s way more her type than you are.” The sound of zippers quickly sounded before the rush of water as the two men washed their hands.

“Fuck, he totally has a better chance than me. Damn, he’s gonna be clapping her cheeks in no time. Guess I’ll stick to jerking it to pics of her from the Christmas party last year.” The door shut and Yoongi sped up his movements until he came, cock emptying his sticky cum inside of you.

You melt your lips with his, lazily kissing him as you settled from your orgasm.

“You and Soohyun hyung?” Yoongi asked, a twinge of jealousy coming through in his moment of weakness. 

“Hmm, I heard some of the girls saying he was thinking of asking me on a date.” You nuzzled into his neck, kissing soft pecks as he softened inside of you.

“I don’t want you to go.” His voice was barely a whisper, a gravely plea.

You sat up, facing him with a serious look on your face. 

“I mean, is there something holding me back? A reason to say no?”

“Do you, uh, do you want there to be?”

His deep Americano eyes meet yours, and you nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Then let me be the reason. Go out with me.”

You smile softly threading your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and causing him to shiver.

“Okay.”

-

You walk back to your office area, fingers intertwined with Yoongi’s, no longer a secret between the two of you as the office gawks at their very quiet and calm boss with the office babe, Soohyun looking a little put out that you were no longer available.

#hisunshiine #yoongi #suga #yoongles #meowmeow #hisunshiinewritings #hisunshiine writing #min yoongi #yoongi smut #bts fic #bts au #suga smut #min yoongi smut #bts story #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #min yoongi ceo #yoongi ceo

[shesawriter39049]

|AFTER HOURS| M|

Pairing: Namjoon X OC 

About-  Your husband and business partner finds you up way past acceptable work hours for the 3rd night in a row! So, daddy has to step in and remind you that’s not something we do in this household. You come before work, in every sense of the phrase!

OR- Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in a open relationship with! Your in desperate need of a 2nd videographer/editor! So here you are, up at 1 AM scrolling through resumes because your that boss that hates to overwork her employess so she overworks herself!

Warnings:Daddy kink, Dom Namjoon, switch OC (More of a sassy/bratty sub)Top OC, Oral (F recieving) Light ass play, (Rimming), Dirty talk, Breath play, Spanking(Pain kink),Hair pulling, unprotected sex, light cum play, VERY LIGHT degration (He calls her a “little bitch” once but it’s playful still noting in case it offends ppl)The end hints at a threesum…...with a certain redhead 

Tae is their sassy exec.assistant and makes a cheeky little appearance at the end.

Jonnie baby is tatted...LORDT

There a fun freaky little couple...

WC:6k

NOTE- This is kinda old and  was set to be part 1 of an OT7 AU called “7 DEEP” 

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

  “Really?” Goddamn, leave it to Namjoon to make one word sound just as sexy as it was intimidating! 

You heard the footsteps fuck you did, you just opted to ignore them and hope maybe he’d just, I don’t know leave? Maybe he was just doing a wellness check? But, if that’s the case, as your tired, unfocused, half-lidded gaze caught the bottom right of your laptop screen, which was glaring back at you something vicious! You realize that you’ve royally fucked up, and its a cute little 2 am right now! So no, he’s not going any damn were, anytime soon….

“Baby” The word left his lips just as much disappointment as it did allure which is a hell of a combination I know, I know, but in all honesty, it fits the mood. You caught his visual briefly through the mirror mounted against the wall and fuck, your man is fine as all hell! Frame resting casually against the entryway, arms folded firm across the smooth chiseled planes of his caramelized tattooed chest. Oversized cat-eye glasses perched on top of that cute little button nose of his, A pair of loosely fitted sweats sitting low against his v-lines, the thin grey fabric left nothing to the imagination as he’d clearly opted against boxers tonight. Shoulders and arms flexing effortlessly due to his current position which screams nothing but “Your ass is in trouble”. Which I mean, your kinda here for...kinda not….

Only offering a low hum in response as you continued scrolling through mounds resumes and video reels that were currently clogging up the admin email that was typically reserved for Taehyung. And that’s when you hear his feet shuffle closer, and closer until there’s a heavy yet comforting weight pressing against your back. The temperature around you shifting, as he leans down, arms braced on the table on either side of your frame. His long, beautiful, veiny fingers pattering idly against the glass, showcasing an array of rings, one of them being his Cartier wedding band as his lips nuzzling into your neck. Nosing up and down your skin slowly, almost teasingly, just breathing you in until your shifting back against him, a strong chill running down your spine. 

“We talked about this…” Voice low, seductive, yet stern and still clearly a little disappointed...nipping at your neck, not hard enough to leave a mark but just enough to make a point. Forcing yourself not to lean back into his touch no matter how bad you wanted to beg for more than just him grazing his teeth along your skin! You needed him to bite, hard, and he already knows it too, how much you get off on being marked..and that’s exactly why he’s not doing it...The little shit! 

“I know but -” Namjoon reaches up to slam your laptop shut, sliding it and the stack of papers to the opposite end of your dining room table, that you’ve managed to convert to a makeshift office. 

“We talked. About this” Simply parroting the words again, just slower this time as if to say you clearly must not have heard him correctly initially.

You sigh. Deep, slow, defeated, a nod rendering, out as a half-arsed response triggering Namjoon to pull back from you only to slide your chair from beneath the table. Shifting it to face him before dropping to a squat between your thighs. Gaze unwavering as he took in your blatantly exhausted appearance, still, he couldn’t help but melt as he reached out to caress your jaw feeling the way you nestled into it instantly. Your eyes fluttered shut briefly, as he smoothed his hands down your body, slipping beneath your robe to gently massage your thighs.

“So what the fuck, are you doin?” Brow arched as if he was daring you to actually respond, yet there wasn’t a single sharp edge to his voice, it was suddenly soft, calm. As if he was genuinely asking why you were doing this to yourself because he can’t make a lick of sense of it! You’re barely able to hold your eyes ajar right now yet you were out here working....

You couldn’t really handle the intensity of his gaze right now, more so because you knew he was right, you were so fuckin exhausted right now it’s unreal! Let’s also mention that the two of you have to catch a flight to Vegas for a business meeting in a good oh I don’t know 7 hours! So, instead of acknowledging that this was really stupid, you opted to reach for the one resume he didn’t manage to move out of reach. Eyes nervously scanning the paper as a distraction while you tried to think of a rational that even you’d believe at this point! 

'Fuck, we just- I don’t know Joon, we just have so much going on right now! And you know I’ll never complain about us having too much work I mean, I'm grateful every damn day that we’re not where we were!”

You intentionally paused, letting “that” have its own moment because it's something to always be acknowledged! The two of you went from living in a 900sq ft apartment with 5 other people to effortlessly clearing 8 figures as of this last tax year. Humbled and grateful to be busy isn’t even the beginning of how you feel! 

“But I just look at everybody...Yoongi’s responding to emails at fucking 3 AM! Jimin playing around docusign at the ass crack of dawn every damn day sending out contracts! Taehyung up scouting locations at 6 AM on a Sunday which is supposed to be his only day off I just- Everybodys in over their head so I thought I’d just- “ Namjoon reached up and grabbed your chin, snatching the paper out of your hand and forcing you to look him dead in the eyes. 

“So thought you'd overwork my wife instead?” 

You just shrug and nod again, tossing your hands in the air, it’s clear you have an attitude but it’s also clear it’s with yourself! You keep piling more and more on your plate instead of delegating it out to other people to handle! It’s a trust thing, and Namjoon know’s that,  it started out with just the two of you, then for years it was seven , seven deep. It’s hard for you to let new people into something you and your husband built from nothing! However, Taehyung just got a part-time assistant of his own so he can go back to strictly being your right hand, and realistically, he’s salary! Your little Gucci boy probably doesn’t mind drinking his Starbucks and driving his BMW around LA looking for houses to film in! You could have spread the workload out a little you just fuck, I don’t know, you’re always that person to put people first to a fault I guess! Point being, Tae could easily handle this, tomorrow, during normal business hours, you could have and should have been in bed with your husband! 

Namjoon can sense how uneasy you feel right now, almost like your a child being scolded and that’s not at all what he’s aiming for; he's just genuinely concerned. So he opts to ease the atmosphere just a little to remind you, that the two of you are always on the same playing field, he’s only reacting like this because he cares! Flicking the bottom of your chin before leaning in, pressing a firm, yet passionate kiss to your lips as if he’s trying to drive the point home, slipping his tongue past the seam almost instantly. Not even attempting to keep this somewhat chaste, needing you to feel every inch of infinite love and fire he has burning through his veins when it comes to you! Kissing you with enough force to knock the wind out of your chest, moaning contently as you give your husband free rein to explore your mouth. Turning the kiss slightly more delicate as he lets his hands slide even deeper under the robe to continue roaming your body. The slide of his tongue becoming softer, slower….as the pads of his fingers trickled up your spine.

Sucking your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls back “Were all busy baby, I get it, I hate seeing them like this too, you know I love them just as much as you do! And that’s exactly why we put out those ads, but that does not mean you get to take on everyone else’s shit! Don’t make me put in a complaint to HR about unfair treatment within the workplace!”Murmurs against your lips, as you stare down at his, barely paying attention to a damn thing he said! 

“Joon I am HR…” You mumble low and unamused, eyes rolling to the back of your head in annoyance and he could give less than a damn. Leaning in with a smirk playing on his lips, leaving another lingering kiss against your own. Kissing you with enough fire to have every hair along your body standing on end! Until your practically chasing after him in a pout the minute he pulls away from you. 

“Mmm, and my point still stands….” Namjoon's hands tighten around your hips, scooting you forward so your legs are wrapped around his waist. Your arms instantly lace around his neck, trailing your fingers upward, so they can get lost in his freshly dyed locks.

“Stop, overworking my baby! You know I don’t like  it…” His delivery was just as much playful, as it was stern! 

“Fuck, whatever okay, sorry!” You really weren’t at least not right now, there wasn’t a lick of conviction in that as you reached up to bring his lips back down to yours. Sliding in tongue first, capturing his lips in another opened mouth kiss, the rhythm quickly starts getting messy more so on your end because you’re getting needy! Namjoon tastes intoxicating and you’re blissed out of your mind, even after all these years, this man can still manage to have your toes curling with just a simple kiss! , Arching forward giving him easier access to grab you ass and he takes the hint, the faint sting of blunt nails digging into the swell of your ass has you whimpering out low and filthy against his tongue.

The kiss breaks much to your dismay but before you can even protest Namjoons tongue is lapping down the side of his neck, mapping out all the places he’s learned over the years. Nipping down on your flushed skin ever so often this time he’s biting with a purpose though, giving it to you just the way you like it. 

“Y/n were done with work now right??” He can hear you panting out low and wanton into his ear once he attaches himself to the crook of your neck, sucking maliciously, an almost animalistic growl leaving his lips in the process. There’s a hint of frustration mixed in with arousal dripping off his tongue right now, your too caught up to notice! 

“Namjoon '' You breathe out his name with nothing but lust pouring off your tongue, not an ounce of shame insight in regards to how needy you sound right now. The sound goes straight to Namjoon’s dick which is beaming at you like a spotlight through the thin fabric of his sweats. Tilting your head back, and anchoring one of your hands into your husband’s hair keeping him in place, overwhelmed with pleasure as you go completely pliant under his menstruations. Regardless, this man's self control was somethin’ serious,and he wasn’t giving in just yet...you still had one more cross to bear baby girl! 

“Fuck. Please” Tugging on his scalp like the brat you tend to be, as if to emphasize your point, making Namjoon pull away licking up your jaw in the process. The drag was slow, messy, waving his tongue against your skin the same way he would your pussy and you felt yourself start to involuntarily clench harder and harder by the second. 

“Hmm? What was that baby?” Tugging the shell of your ear between his teeth hard enough to make you whimper into his hair “Now you wanna come to bed?” You can feel him smirking against your skin and you just really don’t like your husband at all right now just so we’re clear.

All you do is whine in response, yanking his hair even harder until you feel a firm hand land on your ass making you yelp out of your seat. 

Nam-fuck!” Hissed through clenched teeth, thighs tensing around his waist. 

“So again…” Tone as coy and casual as can be as he winds his hand back only to land smack dab on the curve of your ass again, right in the same spot, you wouldn’t be surprised if his palm left an indentation behind! 

Namjoon’s hand was literally pulsing against your skin the impact was so damn strong, all the metal dancing along his fingers didn’t help either! You swear the ripple echoed throughout your entire apartment, and the scream that left your throat was without a doubt noise complaint worthy! Fuck your gonna need to send them an edible arrangement or somehing, they already hate the two of you as it is… 

Your panting and whining opened mouth right into his ear, and it’s getting you nowhere but horny and frustrated! Nails, digging little crescents into his shoulders as you try and almost reroute so of the pain that’s buzzing through your veins. But it’s good, it’s soo good, the slickness coating your inner thighs gave that away! Namjoon can smell how much you’re enjoying this, his little pain slut as he often likes to call you! 

 “You wanna stay out here all damn night. Work yourself into the ground. Leave me in bed alone, and now all of a sudden you think you get to boss daddy around? Hmm? Just because your pussys nice and wet and your feelin needy ...now you want to go to bed?” Namjoons tone is blatantly taunting and a little harsh yet the slight growl laced with it all has your head spinning far too fast to even be mad.

‘Oh my god, Namjoon just fuck me already! Shit!” 

“Why the fuck should I do that? Could’ve had me hours ago baby, all I wanted to do tonight was fuck you, that’s all I wanted all damn day.” Slipping his hand between your thighs pinching your clit between his fingers, slowly rubbing the pads of his together on either side, stimulating your clit head-on until your groaning into the side of his neck.”Do you even, know, how hard it was for me not to just bend you over the conference room table today!?” 

“Joon” You try again and he doesn’t budge, he actually let’s go of your clit all together and just teasingly trailing his fingers along your entrance never entering just driving you fucking insane! Looking as fine and unbothered as ever, as his lips ghost up the curve of your jaw. 

“Hmm, let’s try this shit again.Why-” Bringing that same hand up to grip your jaw with enough pressure to indicate he wasn’t fucking around anymore. “Should I give you what you want when you continuously keep disobeying my only request? Hmm???” You can feel your own slickness against your skin, yet all you can focus on is the blatant aganer, and hurt running through your husbands veins. Even beneath all this bravado..he’s clearly really hurt about this, so play times over!

“Fuck, okay!” There was slight elevation to your voice, tetoring on yelling actually. The arch in Namjoons brow said you had about two seconds to fix that , but you already planned on it! Taking a deep slow breath, letting your eyes flutter shut to just...recenter yourself for a moment! 

“Baby, I’m sorry. I’m. Sorry. ” There it was, not that bratty whiney shit you did earlier to get what you wanted, a genuine “I’m sorry” . Soothing your nails through his scalp, it’s almost instantaneous the way his demeanor shifts once those words fall off your tongue in a more..sincere fashion.  

A low hum rang in the back of his throat at the admission, nosing at your cheek “Sorry for what exactly? Because I don’t want it if you doing this just to appease me baby. That won’t do shit for me. ”  Namjoon’s tone is a lot softer now, all of the prior theatrics and pettiness is gone as he awaits your response.

“No, Joonie baby, no!” Pressing a soft but firm kiss to those sinfully plump lips of his that you still can’t get enough of no matter how many years go by…”No”

“ As your partner, I gotta look out for me just as much as I look out for you and I clearly haven’t been! I know better! And I should be taking advantage of the fact that we’re lucky enough to now be in a position where I can hire an array of people if need be. It’s just- you know I’m a control freak, this business isn’t just a business it’s our baby!”

You watch his mouth open in protest and you just simply continue speaking “But regardless, I know it’s not more important than me, or my health I know…” You instantly feel the tension within his body dissipate at that, thumbs kneading at your hips.

“ I’m sorry, I love you and I’m sorry I’m not trying to stress daddy out!'' There's a slight playfulness to your delivery trying to lighten the mood a little though you know how serious this topic is for him! You find yourself wiggling in his hold trying to somehow get even closer than you already were. 

So here’s the thing, back when you were in college just starting out, the two of you had a lot on your plate! Between school juggling multiple jobs, internships, and just trying to figure out how to even start a company of this caliber….The level of exhaustion he often saw you at was utterly heartbreaking. The number of times you passed out due to lack of sleep is unmentionable… so seeing you like this...was fucking unacceptable in Namjoon’s eyes! 

You notice those big brown orbs of his get a little glassy so you grip the back of his neck even tighter dropping your forehead to his. Feeling like complete and utter trash right now! 

 “This business is not more important than my wife, my partner, my best friend...it’s not! However, you are more important than, all of it, this fuckin overpriced apartment, all the shiny little toys we’ve been able to buy, and this entire company in general! I love you, but I need you to look me in the eyes and fucking promise me that you’ll stop this! Please…” 

You can hear a slight trimmer laced within that deep honey-coated tenor of his and the sudden vibrato’s foreign, and you’re not a fan! It took everything in you not to cry at the blatant plea rolling off his tongue, well aware this man does not beg! So instead you just leaned in and kissed him, hard, slow, just letting everything you couldn’t really articulate pour from your lips to his and hope he got the message. 

“I promise, I love you…I promise!”

“And you know I fuckin love you…”  You do, fuck you do, even if this marriege was high key an accidnet..it’s without a doubt one of the best things that’s ever happened to you!

“I know”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah”

Ducking down, kissing you reckless and with fevour, messy, wet, teeth clacking together. Slowly transitioning the mood from deep and touching to just...raw and nasty which is kinda what you’d prefer at the moment!

 “I wasn’t lyin when I said I’ve wanted to fuck you all damn day though…”

“Please” you whisper out as he pulls back to lick down your neck, pressing your chest together to give him better access. Sucking his mark in a spot right beneath your jaw, well aware you’ll need an ass-ton of conclear within the next couple of hours, but right now you could care less!  

“Please what baby? Tell daddy, what you want?” Namjoon presses, biting his lip and sliding his hand back between your legs groaning out at how completely drenched you are right now. 

“Fuck me!” You pant out low and whiney

“You want it here baby? You want daddy to bend you over the table?” The familiar hunger that was back in his eyes was so fucking sexy and  it had you rutting against him for any ounce of stimulation! 

“No.Bedroom” Namjoon moans in agreement, securing your thighs around his waist and scoping you out of the chair, heading towards the opulent master suite the two of you shared.

Once inside he throws you down on the bed, hard and almost animalistic, making you bounce a little against the firm California king. Namjoon follows immediately, crawling over to cover your body with his own, his broad form completely engulfing your frame. Ripping your robe apart, and letting your tongues meet once more. Hot slick, and eager as you pant out hot and heavy against one another. Soothing is palm down your stomach, cupping your entire heat in his palm. Moaning out that it feels just fuckin like that. Wet and warm, so damn warm...ducking his head down to lick your nipple into his mouth, sucking slow but hard at the same time, nipping and grazing the bud between his teeth.

“Fuck” You moan back arching off the bed and into your husband’s mouth, as he licks trails across your sternum and over to your other nipple. While also stroking his entire palm against your pussy, Namjoon’s always loved how responsive you are to him even after all these years. Just letting his tongue lave over the buds over and over, alternating between, licking, sucking, and biting so your body never gets used to the stimulation. 

“You fuckin, love this shit don’t, you? Bet I could get you to come just like this...wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” You can feel his lips curling into a smirk around your nipples the harder he sucks, bringing his other hand into the mix, the one that’s nice and slick with your arousal. Using it to twist and turn your nipple between his nimble fingers until he can’t tell if your arching into the pain or away from it. He can feel you grinding against his thigh, more importantly, he can feel your clit sticking to his thigh your so damn wet, soaking straight through his sweatpants. Moaning out loud and unfiltered, eyes shut as you rock your hips against him, your hands getting lost in your hair the harder you rock against the bed.

“Fuck, look at you baby, rubbing your sweet little cunt against my thigh..” A low almost arrogant chuckle rumbling in his throat, vibrating against your skin making you moan even louder. “Fuck, here I was thinking you wanted to come on my dick...” 

“Fuck- I do, I wanna come all over you, want your mouth too though…” Reaching out to play in his hair, almost pushing his face down even harder, though you swear you can feel his lips curl into a wicked little smile at that moment. 

“Yeah? You want daddy's tongue all over your pussy…” He didn’t even bother phrasing it as a question, especially once he meticulously started rolling his tongue along your nipples, in a oh too familiar motion that had you turning into a whiny brat within seconds! 

“Namjoon!” He doesn’t even respond, just pulling off and flipping you right on to your stomach, hard and fast, making you damn near choke on your own spit. Face pressed into your fresh linen sheets.. You start to slightly arch your back on insctint. You feel him shift off the bed, peeping over your shoulder to see his sliding off his sweats, stashing his glasses in his side pocket. Namjoons length is just standing straight up, damn near laying flat against his stomach and you straight up moan, mouth-watering at the sight alone. A pleased hum leaves those plump lips of his as he shuffles back onto the bed. Kissing and licking his way up the back of your thighs until he reaches your ass, straddling your hips. 

Palm rubbing at the swell of your ass before smacking it, lightly at first, and your hip twitches you actually have the nerve to giggle. “That all daddy’s go-fuck” Another. Scream. Literally. Scream as he reels back even harder than he did earlier, just keeping his hand intact too, wanting you to feel the trob, the ache, radiating off his palm to your ass. 

“Hmm what was that baby?” Leaning down to spread your cheeks apart, just blowing a trail, against your pussy, watching the way your hole clenches from that alone. “Always so fuckin wet and ready for me…” 

He groans and you, arch your back, even more, moaning out slightly at the contrast hitting your skin. Bracing both hands on your ass and he can hear your breathing shutter in your chest, already anticipating the first drag of his tongue. Dipping one thumb over you rim, just circling it gently, feeling you jerk at the sensation, no matter how light, fuck your still so damn sensitive. That will never stop amazing him, it’s been almost 8 years. Yet you still react like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you like he’s still helping you explore new places along your own body! Namjoon leans forward, nipping, licking, and sucking, open mouth kisses, against the backs of your thighs, before leaning down to kiss your clit. Tongue and all, sucking it straight into his mouth, moaning out deep and strong around the bud. Inhaling slowly as if he's breathing you in and your knees already start to buckle,  nails clenching around the sheets. 

A broken moan of his name being muffled into the fabric, as he rolls his tongue in deep, languid strokes up and down your folds, licking from front to back. Your wetness is already painted all over his face and he wouldn’t have it any other way, as he continuously, maliciously sucks down on your clit, gently grazing the skin between his teeth just enough to make you squirm. Bringing his tongue to lather over your rim and he feels how hard you start shaking, sliding in two fingers into your heat, knuckles deep at the exact moment he slips his tongue past your rim. The vision that is you, open, needy, and whiney, on all fours...is driving your husband absolutely insane! How quickly you’re falling apart, knees spreading even wider to give him all the access he needs to do with you as he pleases. 

“Yeah..” You sign, blissed out of you goddamn mind ‘Fuck”

Your voice drips in the whiniest tinge of need imaginable like you’ve been aching for this, and the sounds richotect straight off your tongue and into Namjon’s lap! Your chest drops forward, letting Namjoon essentially all support your weight, as his tongue dives in even deeper, while continuously fucking you open with his fingers, he’s already added a third one. Mind completely spinning at how hard your clenching around all three of his fingers, cock throbbing at how good you’ll feel around him soon enough. You feel him pull back to spit right along your rim, watching it drizzle down toward your clit, he picks the trail up with his tongue and leads it where he wants it to go. Namjoon moans out, low, and content as he really starts to eat you out your tongue and fingers working your pussy open until your voice hitches in your throat and shatters. Ripping, a long drawn out whimper to leave your throat.

“That feel good?” He murmurs low and taunting, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, as if he can’t physically tell he feels good.

“I’ve had better”

He bites your cheek playful, a snort leaving his lips “Fuckin same..” slurs out against the swell of your ass and you can’t help but cackle.

“Fuck, I bet you have now, stop talking and get your fucking tongue back in ME!!” Bossy as ever, damn near pushing his head down and he reaches up, biting the side of your hand forcing you to stop. 

“How about my cock instead?” Leaning back to smack his length aginst your ass a couple times, letting you feel how hard and ready he is. 

“Yeah! God yeah, fuck yeah! Gimme! In me now! Fuck me!!” All your prior teasing is gone, just the mention of his cock has you needy and clenching painfully hard around his fingers, while also simultaneously rutting back against them as if you don’t want him to pull out. Pulling his fingers out slowly. Curling them upwards, purposely coating his fingers in your arousal to use to lather his cock which is so hard right now it’s almost painful. 

“Daddy” Wiggling your offensively empty ass in his face, making him chuckle, and smack it lightly. before gripping your thigh and flipping you onto your back with such ease it was almost offensive. 

“Nam-”

“Fuck off” Leaning down and stealing your breath and sarcasm away with a deep kiss “I wanna see my baby..” Lining himself up to your entrance, you exhale softly against his mouth as the blunt head of his cock breaches your entrance. Hiking your leg around Namjoon’s waist to make him slide in even deeper.

“Yeah, fuck” 

“I hope you don’t think…” Shifting forward wiggly his hips a little, giving you half a second to adjust to how fucking big this man is! “We’re about to make love or some shit, because I’m about to break your ass..” There’s just as much of a smile as there is a dangerous edge to your husband’s voice, that has you beaming up at him. Before you even had time to think of a response he was snapping his hips forward hard enough to have the two of you scooting up the bed a little.

Namjoon, propped your leg even higher over his shoulder, as he snapped his hips forward again, even harder this time. You moaned out, and scurried to grab onto your husband’s neck to anchor yourself as he fucked into you hard and fast, you tried to arch and fuck him back but it was hard with how intense he was pounding into you! 

“Oh my godddd” You drawled out, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Yup, Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called that, in this position.....” You could hear the smile in his voice as he continued fucking you like he was trying to split you open with his cock. Nails clawing into his back hard enough to break skin! 

You could’ve just laid there and took, it because fuck if it wasn’t good, but that’s not the mood you were in at the moment. So you dropped your leg from his shoulder and wrapped them both around his waist. Tipping your hips forward, clenching down hard around his cock as you started grinding your hips against him. Fucking him back the same way he was giving it to you. Hard and smooth.. 

“Y/n” He half growled half whined as you smiled up at him, something wicked, releasing your hold around his cock only to clench down even harder. He groans in what seemed like frustration reached down to smack pinch your clit between his fingers hard enough to make you cry out his name. Arching forward even harder. 

“Yeah, daddy like that, fuck.Me.just like that” you were breathless but the sass was clear as day, a slight chuckle leaving your throat. 

“Fuckin brat!” Reaching down with the same hand that was on your clit, wrapping it around your windpipe, adding just enough pressure to have your eyes rolling to the back off your head. The added stimulation throwing off your rhythm a little but you didn’t care, he had you…

“Yesss,yes, fuck!” His tattooed chest was flushed and covered in sweat as you continued fucking back against his cock, which was warm and continuously pulsing side of you. Filling you up and sliding completely out every single time. Your hole twitched painfully hard as the two of you worked in sync thrusting against each other in a smooth yet malicious rhythm, the sound of skin slapping you moaning, Namjoon grunting... 

Fuck an edible arrangement maybe the two of you should treat your neighbors to a spa weekend or something because they damn sure aren’t sleeping right now! 

“Ya know, if you would’ve came to bed earlier” He panted right into the side of your ear, still rolling his hips into you “I could’ve fucked you, came inside you” Leaning down to lick up the side of your jaw  “Licked all, of my come out of you, and then” Pulling back and snapping his hips up even sharper, as if to accentuate every word “Fucked.You.All.Over.-Fuck-Again” Every thrust had the wind being knocked out of your chest  “ But now..we don’t have tim-” 

Reaching up to twist his nipple between the tip of your nail, kneeing him in the stomach just enough to make his hips stutter and have him shuffling back so you can push him onto his back which he falls to willingly. That is, until you literally bounced down onto his dick, damn near gagging in the process he feels so deep in this angle. Almost tempted to feel up your sternum and see if he’s poking through. 

“You little bitch” Chokes from his throat with a stated smile the tones playful and airy, digging his nails into your ass, letting out an involuntary gasp as he rolls his hips up. Only for you to start rolling your hips back, again, and again, and again, in deep, slow, circles, switching up the pace a little from what it was before. Making sure your clit grazes against his pelvic bone every time.

“Yeah, fuck you” Your breathless, and tired, but you can’t help but smile at how completly fucked out he looks right now, eyes barley ajar, jaw tight, he looks so damn good! 

“Yeah, yeah, fuck daddy baby..fuck me..” It’s clear he’s only egging you on but fuck if it’s not working,he sounds down right sinful as you ride him. His moans are deep, loud, almost needy, at every roll your hips make, and it’s intoxicating! Reaching up and grabbing you down by your neck , licking his way back into our mouth, his grip is strong enough to without a doubt leave a bruise. Both of you moaning out pleased and needy as you start slamming your hips down meeting his upwards thrust. Instantly matching the pace he’d set. Namjoon pulls back, and slips three fingers into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat to make you gag a little. Exchanging the grip he held on your neck for the back of your hair, as he brings his other hand down between your bodies to play with your clit, before licking his way back into your mouth.Feeling the way your thighs start to shake as you cry out against his tongue barely able to kiss him back at this point . 

“Your fuckin close baby, your pussy’s just screamig around me..” He’s breathless, not even trying to hide it anymore, voice horse and dripping with arousal. “Goddamnn I love you…” You clench so damn hard around him at that..I actually don't think anything turns you on more than hearing your husband say that. Especially sounding all fucked out and needy.

“Love you too baby..so fuckin much… “

“Good”  He chuckled low and dark agaisnt your lips “Now come, all over my cock like a good girl”  Fucking into you faster and harder, hand still rubbing blunt circles around your clit, tightening the grip he holds on your hair until your roots burn  “Y/n , baby, my baby, come for me, come for daddy...” 

It only took a few more thrusts before your orgasm ripped through you and you were crying out your husband's name, body spasming on top of him. Yet you still didn't stop rutting against him until he came in. You couldn't, you needed to feel it, body running away from him just as much as it was running towards him! You can feel how hard your clenching and its involnaty this time,so he reaches up with both hands rolling your hips against him one more time before slamming you down onto his cock. Just holding you in place while you continue to pulse around him, body shattering to pieces.

“Namjoonnnn fuck-fuck-fuck-” He grounds you agaisnt his cock as he jerks his hips up hard and fast, eyes squezzing shut, neck arching off the pillow, as his relase washed over him. A long drawn out moan of your name slipped off his tongue as he came, hard, hips stilling making sure to fill you to the brim, until he's sure he released every last drop he had to give..His own body shuttering in ovesentivty at this point. Namjoons fingers slowly soothed up your thighs, both of you panting painfully hard, wincing at the contact as you continue pulsing around him. Eyes locked in a half lidded gaze, a smile that started on your lips and ended on his as the two of you racked over each other's forms, hot sweaty, marked up, and fucked out. 

“Namjoon” You finally say, breaking the silence, a slight moan hanging off your tongue and he smiled back at you, reaching up to grip the back of your neck.

“Y/n” Parroting your name with the same lust filled drawl that you had, making you moan…

Nam-fucking-Joon” Leaning down to place a firm kiss to his lips, humming out instanly at the contact.

“Y/n Kim….” 

“Yup, that’s me!” Smiling out tired and dazed against his lips, while you felt his hand soothe up and down the curve of your back. 

“I love you”

“And, I love you” 

The two of you laid there like that for a moment, until his cock was completely soft and he gently slid out, still keeping you flush against his chest….just sitting in comfortable silence, breathing together..until..

“ Oww!! What the fuck was that for ?!” Your poor ass...at least it’s a pinch and not a smack this time...

“I mean it. I love what we do and I know sometimes realistically it happens there are only so many hours in a day I understand that. We wouldn’t be where we are if we didin’t work our asses off! But you’ve been doing this and running on fumes all damn week! I’ve just been watching from afar and keeping my mouth shut, hoping that you would sort it out yourself but I couldn’t watch you burn yourself into the ground anymore. Y/n. I’m serious! “

You can feel the weight behind his words, the way his heart seems to be beating harder now than it was when the two of you were having sex. 

So you lean down to press a kiss on his lips that almost seems far too delicate and out of place for what just happened only moments prior.

“I know.” 

Namjoon holds your gaze for a second longer before cupping the side of your face and kissing you firm and sweet, smiling against your lips once he feels you sigh into it. Hesitantly he pulls away and heads towards the bathroom and he already hears you whine in protest. Just flagging his hand in your direction, not even bothering to turn around.

 “We literally have a 9 AM flight and an 11:30 business meeting at the Plaza! Meaning, you have to be dressed and fully ready when we hop on the plane. Your fuckin showering..now. I don’t wanna hear it. ” 

Honestly, you were far too tired to protest and the tone of his voice let you know you wouldn’t win anyway!  So I mean, fuck, at least there’s a bench in the shower! 

“Ugh, fuck, fine! Come carry me! I have to preserve my energy to walk in my Louboutins tomorrow!!!” Making grabby hands in his direction knowing damn well he can’t deny you anything. 

“You mean today!” You heard his voice echo off the tiles and hoenstly he seems far to chipper to remind you have of, which only makes you whine even louder! 

Heading back out the bathroom with a smirk on his face, shaking his head in dismay as he scoops you effortlessly into his arms. “Come here you little brat!” 

“Your brat!” You fire back, with nothing but smugness rolling off your tongue as you loop your arms around his neck, kissing his dimple.

“Fuck yeah you are, my brat, my wife, my fuckin baby” Inviting his tongue back into your mouth as he leads the two of you back into the bathroom! 

The two of you moved together lazily whilst in the shower, taking turns washing each other, slow touches and kisses. Murmuring sweet nothings mixed in with business because though you tried to leave work at work...sometimes it’s impossible! 

Not even bothering to look at the clock once you finally melted into your bed, honestly, you didn’t even wanna know. 

~~~

 Far too soon the sound of all 6 of your alarms went off, ya know, the “Okay I should get up but I don’t have to get up” All the way to the “Fuck, I’m late!” Alarm! They all went off until you found yourself practically being scraped off the floor and led into the guest room that the two of you converted into an additional closet and a place for you to get ready in peace! 

Sitting down, Starbucks in hand as you set out to beat your face, do your hair and try not to look like you stayed up until 1 am then got fucked into the mattress until you damn near cried! 

The Starbucks was curiosity of Taehyung who had keys and free reign to your apartment whenever we felt so inclined. The redhead welcomed himself into your space, waltzing over in your direction with an all-knowing smile on his face. Ducking down to leave a slow lingering, open mouthed kiss along the one mark on your shoulder you apparently forgot to cover this morning. You can feel him smirking against your skin,as he pulls back to flop down on the pink furry chair currently covered in rejected outfit choices. Trying to force yourself to ignore the sudden chill that rang through your body because you didin’t have the time or the engery for anything else. 

‘Why aren’t you wearing this? Your ass looks fuckin great in this!” Holding up a black halterneck Jumpsuit, brows furrowed in the center of his face.

“I know, but, it needs to be steamed and I don’t have the time..” A feigned pout playing on your lips as you batted your lashes at him through the mirror. Watching as he slid off the chair, with an exasperated huff, eyes rolling to the back of his head more times than you can count. Heading towards the steamer you had hanging along one of your many clothes racks.  

“Thank you, baby!!” Blowing him a kiss that he swatted away in the process! 

“Yeah, yeah! Soo I see someone was impatient and went through the resumes last night…At fuckin midnight!” Eyes glaring in your direction, you could hear the frown in his voice. “Y/n-“

“Don’t!” Eyes narrowing in his direction through the mirror “Daddy Joon already got in my ass enough about last night for all of you!” 

 “As he fuckin should! That’s what you have me for baby, so you aren’t doing that shit to yourself anymore!” You can tell he’s trying to sound authoritative but instead, he just sounds sad and equally disappointed!”

“I know, Tae, I know, I’m fuckin workin’ on it!.” Your delivery comes out a little sharper than you intended but he’s known you far too long to take it personally or even fully acknowledge it honestly! 

“Speaking of, I actually met this kid, not fully a kid he’s like 21, but anyway he just graduated from USC, for some sort of Film. I actually ran into him at Starbucks today and he’s supposed to be sending me his resume and some video reels in a little while.” 

A low hum ringing in the back of your throat, far too focused on carving out your brows to talk...but he took that as a hint to continue. 

“His name is Jungkook, he seems somewhat promising just from talking to him, so, I’ll feel it out and if it seems worth your time I’ll forward over his information! I’m also going to try and set up a couple of interviews for you and Joonie next week!” 

Offering a faint nod in response, still far too focused on your makeup to give much else, or realize the sudden fire burning in Taehyung's eyes as he watches you get ready. Silk robe hanging loosely off your frame, a pair of white lace panties peeking out...

“What time were the two of you trying to get dropped off at the airport?” The sudden shift in conversation, and the blatant octave change had your eyes meeting him through the mirror. Trying to feel out his mood…

“In the next hour or so…” Then there’s Namjoon, standing in the doorway wearing nothing but his dress pants, an unbuttoned silk shirt, and a smirk that screams nothing but trouble. 

“Come’re” The bass in Namjoon’s voice alone has chills running down your spine, a second away from shifting out of your seat until you realize he’s not talking to you. Flicking his finger in the redhead’s direction, edging him off the wall slowly. Biting his lip as he sways coyly in your husband’s direction. 

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

THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE! FOR NOW, IF YOU LIKED IT.. ,SHOW THIS SOME LOVE AND I’LL CONSIDER ADDING TO IT!  I DID MAP OUT THE FIRST 3 CHAPTERS LAST YEAR WHEN I STARTED THIS BUT I DIDN’T PHYSICALLY WRITE THEM! BTW I KNOW I DIDIN’T MENTIONED ALL OF THEM, BUT ALL O BTS MINUS KOOK WORK FOR THE OC AND NAMJOON!

MASTER LIST 

#namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon au #bts #bts smut #bts au #bts fanfic #bts poly #taehyung #taehyung au #kpop #kpop smut #kpop au

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch 13)

Chapter 13

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 2,206

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing…

(Okay, this woman is way too glamorous, but it was the closest I could find to the dress and general physical appearance)

              As Christmas grew closer, Catalina wondered if she should visit her mother more and more. This was the first time being away from her so long, but her mother never said anything about buying her a plane ticket, and Catalina most certainly couldn’t afford one. She was also nervous about travelling alone, now that two more people had gone missing.

               But before she had to worry about Christmas, she had her first official date with Jungkook to worry about. They were both broke and extremely busy with final exams and work. But as soon as Christmas break began, both of their schedules opened up. Catalina wanted to be the one to ask him out first, so she invited him over for a movie night one night, getting ahold of a nice bottle of wine ahead of time. The movie she chose was C.H.U.D., a perfectly mediocre film that wouldn’t distract them from each other. Once the movie was set up, all Catalina had to do was wait.

               She made herself comfortable on her bed, still just a mattress on the ground, and pulled out her phone. She ended up just swiping back and forth on her home screen, glancing at the front door constantly. Jungkook had her only spare key, so he should be walking in any moment. She opened Twitter, scrolled down her feed without reading anything, then glanced at the door again. She opened her messages and read a text from her mom. Something about keeping pepper spray on her and being careful walking alone. Another glance at the door.

               She closed all her apps and set her phone down with a deep sigh. She needed to get a handle on herself.

               The sound of a key rattling and the front door opening made Catalina leap from her bed. Jungkook stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind him. Snow was dusted in his hair and on his shoulders, which melted as he toed off his boots and took his coat off.

               “Hey,” Catalina greeted him as she approached. “How are the roads?”

               She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight before he could answer.

               “They weren’t bad, but I walked here,” he said, pulling her close with his arms around her waist. Catalina leaned back and kissed him, threading her fingers into his hair. She froze.

               “What…” she mumbled against his lips, combing through his hair and feeling the freshly shaved sides underneath. She felt him smile.

               “Do you like it?” he asked. Catalina pulled away further and pushed his long hair away from his face, eyeing the undercut that definitely wasn’t there the last time she saw him.

               “H- you…” Catalina let out a strangled sound before clearing her throat. Then she whispered, “It’s fucking sexy.”

               He laughed and kissed her hard, her hands back in his hair, and one of his hands finding its way up her back under her shirt.

               Catalina groaned and said, “We need to stop before I ruin my plans for tonight.”

               “Oh?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

               “Yes. We have a movie to watch,” she said, pulling him over to her mattress, where her laptop was set up with the movie ready to play. They got settled and she pressed play on the movie, pouring two glasses of wine. A few minutes into the movie, Jungkook turned to Catalina and said, “Was your plan really to just watch this movie? Because it kind of sucks.”

               “No,” said Catalina. “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out to dinner with me this week sometime. I was thinking De Luca’s.”

               “You’re gonna wine and dine me?” he asked, his big eyes softening. Catalina nodded. “Of course! I’ve never been to that place before, but I hear it’s amazing. I’d love to go with you.”

               Catalina couldn’t contain the smile that took over her face.

               “And then after dinner,” Catalina continued. “You’ll drive me home since I don’t have a car-“

               Jungkook laughed.

               “And I’ll kiss you goodnight before you leave,” she finished.

               “All proper,” he said. Catalina nodded. “And then on our second date, when I wine and dine you, I’ll drive you home, because I have a car and you don’t, and I’ll kiss you goodnight-“

               “And then you’ll come inside with me and I’ll sit right here, just like this,” Catalina interrupted, getting up to straddle his thighs. “And then I’ll tug on your hair like this…”        

               She gripped his hair tight and gave it a good tug, pulling his head to the side. He let out a moan before clamping his mouth shut, his breathing getting quicker. Catalina leaned down so that her lips were just barely touching his neck.

               “Because you make pretty sounds when I pull your hair,” Catalina continued. “And then…who knows what will happen?”

               She got off his lap and returned to her spot cuddled up to his side.

               “But I’ll do all that stuff after our second date,” she said. “Because I know we’re both not into casual sex, and fucking after the first date is tacky.”

               “You’re evil,” he said, his voice breathy but a smile on his face. Catalina giggled and cuddled closer.

               “You love it,” she said. “I mean, in the meantime, we can just make out. Because this movie does kind of suck.”

               “Is that why you chose it?” Jungkook asked, raising an eyebrow. Catalina couldn’t get enough of him doing that, it was so sexy.

               “Maybe,” she said, pulling him down.

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

               Catalina was being chased again. She was too slow, her feel dragging and her body not responding to her commands. Namjoon was above ground, if she could get to him, he’d protect her. She made it to the tunnel and the metal ground clanged under her feet. Too loud, too loud! But she couldn’t slow down or else they’d catch her. She looked behind her. Jungkook was supposed to be following her, but he wasn’t there.

“Don’t stop now, kitty,” Jungkook’s voice echoed in the tunnel. “They’re going to eat you if you stop moving.”

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

              She rarely got mail, unless it was bills or brochures from the college, so when Catalina saw an envelope sealed with a wax seal in her mailbox, she ran as fast as she could up to her apartment to read it.

               She dumped the rest of her mail on the kitchen counter and tore the letter open. The paper inside was yellowed with age, but heavy and high quality. It was an invitation, from Taehyung, to a Christmas party at the mansion. The party was a week before Christmas, so Catalina still had some time to figure out what she was going to wear. She didn’t bring anything fancy with her when she moved, so she would need buy something.

               Before the party, she went shopping with Jimin and Hoseok, both of whom also needed outfits. Catalina ended up buying a long, red dress. It was backless with long sleeves, tight fitting to her figure with a wide collar that left room for a necklace. A long slit in the skirt up the back almost reached the dip in the back. When she tried it on at the mall, the boys said that “it was sexy and Jungkook has a thing for red.” Hoseok told her not to buy a necklace because he had something for her to wear.

               Anyway, she was excited to show it off. The party was going to start at eight in the evening, but Jungkook drove Catalina and Jimin to the mansion around noon. They hung out, helped decorate the house, and then a few hours before the party was to start, they all went to separate rooms to get themselves ready.

               Catalina was just finishing up her makeup in one of the guest rooms and getting ready to put her dress on when a knock came at the door. She opened it to find Hoseok standing outside.

               “May I come in?” he asked.

               “Sure,” said Catalina, stepping aside for him. He walked in and handed her a velvet rectangular box. “Is this it?”

               He nodded.

               “It’s from my mom,” said Hoseok. “I saw her a few days ago and told her about you and Jimin and Jungkook. She said you could borrow this for the party.”

               “Your mom lives around here?” Catalina asked. She never thought about Hoseok’s family. She supposed she should have assumed some of his relatives were still alive, since he wasn’t actually that old. She wondered if his mother knew he was a vampire, but she figured his mother would have to. Hoseok wouldn’t have aged in many years.

               “Yeah, after my dad died, she moved here to spend more time with me,” said Hoseok. Catalina opened the box. A pearl necklace shone back at her.

               “Oh my goodness,” she whispered. “Is she sure?”

               Hoseok nodded.

               “Tell her thank you for me,” said Catalina.

               “You can tell her yourself,” said Hoseok. “She’ll be at the party tonight. My sister will be here too.”

               With that, he left Catalina to finish getting ready. As much as she found Hoseok to be mysterious and even suspicious sometimes despite his sunny personality, Catalina was looking forward to meeting his mother and sister. Maybe they could give some insight on the secretive dancer.

               Catalina’s normally long, dark wavy hair was curled into smooth ringlets. She twisted it up into an updo as best she could with hanging strands. She fastened her hair in the back with a jeweled clip. Her hosiery was tight and uncomfortable, but when she put her dress on, it made her body look smooth and seamless, her matching red lingerie properly hidden. The pearl necklace completed the look and Catalina couldn’t stop looking at herself in the full-length mirror. Her dark curls framed her face, which was made up to make her dark eyes look bigger and sharper. Her makeup was light, just enough to make her bronze skin look flawless. The dress accentuated all her curves, and she could barely see her back in the mirror, but the dip came down dangerously low. The lace sleeves didn’t keep her warm, but they were delicate and elegant.

               Catalina couldn’t wait to show off her dress, and she couldn’t wait to see the boys in their suits.

               When Catalina came downstairs, Jin and Jimmy K had arrived and were in the foyer making conversation with Namjoon, along with a handsome stranger. All of them stopped talking to stare at her. She felt her face heat up. Jimmy K approached and held out a hand as she came down the last few steps.

               “You look incredible,” he said.

               “Jimmy K, I’m not at this party alone,” she said with a smirk.

               “I know,” he said. “Save me a dance though, would you?”

               “Sure,” said Catalina. “Where’s Jungkook?”

               “He was still getting ready, last I checked,” said Namjoon. “He should be down any minute.”

               Catalina looked at the stranger and Namjoon jumped in to introduce her.

               “Catalina, this is Dr. Vera Carlisle,” he said. “She’s a professor at the university I used to teach at.”

               Dr. Carlisle smiled and shook hands with Catalina. She had short, styled hair and was wearing a smart suit. Namjoon leaned in to say quietly, “Dr. Carlisle is the one who helps us get blood from the blood bank.”

               “Isn’t that like, taking blood away from patients who need it?” Catalina asked.

               “We have a lot of volunteers who give blood for exactly these situations,” said Dr. Carlisle. “There’s a bit of a community around the vampire life and, not surprisingly, people are infatuated with it.”

               Catalina had so many more questions, but at that moment, everyone looked to the staircase. Catalina followed their gazes and she let out a gasp. She couldn’t believe how good Jungkook looked. He seemed to be coming down the stairs in slow motion, at least that’s how Catalina saw it. His suit was black with red accents, and instead of a tie, he wore delicate gold chains looped under the collar. His hair was slicked back, revealing the shaved undercut and he might have even been wearing a slight amount of makeup around his eyes, making them a bit darker than usual. Catalina let go of the breath she was holding when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

               “Guk, you look…” Catalina couldn’t even find the right word. “I love…this is…”

               Jungkook smiled at her and said, “You too, Cat.”

               He let Catalina take his hand and pull him closer. They were alone in the foyer now, so Catalina had no reservations about leaning in and placing a kiss on his neck, right under his ear. Her red lipstick left a kiss-shaped stain on his skin.

               “So that everyone here will know who you belong to,” said Catalina.

              Jungkook’s face was bright red and he sounded breathless as he said, “You should just get a collar for me next time.”

              Catalina raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t expecting that response, but she found herself dwelling on the thought for the rest of the night.

.

.

.

#bts #bts fanfction #knights of the night #crystalstar #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #Jimmy K #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jeongguk #namjoon #rm #jin #captain kirk #jhope #hobi #jimin #taehyung #v #jungkook

[callboxkat]

Statement of Patton Sanders

Author’s note: Anon, this is probably not what you meant, but, hey! Here you go!

Summary: Statement of Patton Sanders regarding a series of accidents. Statement recorded live from subject, February 7th, 2021, by Logan Sanders—no relation—Head Archivist of The Magnus Institute, London.

(Necessary bg info: The Magnus Institute is an organization that takes and investigates statements about paranormal experiences. Jurgen Leitner is a character who collected books with supernatural powers.)

Warnings: This is a The Magnus Archives AU, so if you’ve listened to that you should know what to expect. Body horror (cut off fingers, broken neck), nondescriptive vomiting, blood mention, food mention. Child abuse, sort of. It's in a story in this story. No character death or villain characters.

Word Count: 3289

Original prompt:

Writing Masterpost!

Ao3 Link

@badthingshappenbingo​

...

“Hey, we have the same glasses.”

“Yes, I suppose we do—Do you need help with the chair? Oh, you’ve got it.”

Patton and the other man sat down on opposite sides of a desk. He was a weary-looking, bespectacled man who couldn’t have been much different in age from himself, although slivers of premature gray were visible in his hair.

The man—an archivist, he’d introduced himself as—leaned forward to turn on a tape recorder. It seemed a little old-fashioned, but it certainly did fit in with the overall vibe of the place (recording on a laptop would have probably felt out of place), and Patton didn’t mind. This would be much easier than hand-writing his entire statement.

The archivist cleared his throat. “Statement of Patton Sanders regarding a series of accidents. Statement recorded live from subject, February 6th, 2021, by Logan Sanders—no relation—Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.”

Patton shifted in his seat. The archivist sat across him, looking at him expectantly. The tape recorder lay innocently on the desk between them, the tape inside slowly turning with a quiet tick. They sat in the basement of the oft-mocked Magnus Institute. They were in an office, but even here the walls were lined with bookcases, stacked with boxes upon boxes, each of them, it appeared, filled to the brim with folders, or with cassette tapes. Other peoples’ statements, presumably. Patton wasn’t sure how he felt about that. His story just being one of hundreds more, maybe thousands, in those boxes.

“Do I just… start?” he asked.

The archivist adjusted his glasses. “Yes, please.”

He nodded, swallowed, and even before he’d fully decided where to begin, he spoke. The words came surprisingly easily.

“I used to work at a library in my home town, back in the US. It’s a little town in Florida, almost at the border with Georgia, pretty near the coast. I don’t… I don’t work there anymore, of course. But at the time—this was about three years ago, back in 2017—I was there most days.

“One day we got this book in the return bin. It was weird. Not one of ours. It didn’t have a title that I could see, but there was a label on the inside cover. It was a bit smudged, but the last name was Leitner. I don’t know if it belonged to them, or if that was the author… I don’t know. It doesn’t matter, I guess.”

He noticed that the archivist suddenly seemed very interested in what he was saying, even leaning forward to hear.

“I was about to move the book over to the donations bin—I figured that’s what it was, you know, just a book somebody didn’t want, and decided to give to us rather than throw away, and got the wrong bin by mistake. But… I don’t know. Something about it just drew me in. I have no idea what; usually I go more for cookbooks, or crafts stuff, or um, lighter fiction. Not… that.”

He tried for a weak smile, but the archivist didn’t seem open to humor. Which Patton have once found awkward, but now it was almost a relief. He wasn’t sure how to make his story funny.

“So I took it out of the return bin, and I put it on my desk, instead. I was busy right then, but when I had a free moment, I sat down to take a look at it. It was old and worn, and like I said, there was no title. But it had this… weird feeling to it. Something off about it. I didn’t like it at all. But it was like I had to open it.

Patton sighed, glancing away. Suddenly, he felt on the edge of tears.

“And I made the biggest mistake of my life, and I opened that book.

“It was a story about a child who keeps refusing to do his chores. His mom would give him things to do, and the kid would say, ‘Yes, I’ll do them!’ but then as soon as the mom leaves, he’d drop the broom or whatever and run off to play with his toys instead. And as time goes on the mom gets more and more tired of this, because she has to do all the chores he doesn’t want to do.

“So, she takes him aside, and tells him sternly that he has to do his chores, or there would be consequences. And of course, he doesn’t listen, because he’s a kid.

“So the next day, takes him aside again, and tells him again to do his chores, and he continues not to. And it continues like that for ten days. But on the tenth day, the mom trips on the broom that the kid left in the middle of the floor, and she hurts herself. Very, um… very badly. She… breaks her neck. But she gets up off the floor, and her neck is all… it’s bent at a 90 degree angle. And there’s blood on the floor. I remember that page very vividly. Most of the book was in black ink, with some—” He made a face, “—illustrations. In the picture on that page, the blood was red.

“So, the mom… she goes to the kid, her neck all wrong, and she tells him, ‘You’re going to clean until your fingers fall off! Which… he does. She makes him clean, and clean, and clean. He has to scrub the floor, and when he finishes, she makes him start all over again, and again, and again. And, one by one, his fingers just… fall off.”

Patton was silent for a moment.

“On the last page of the book, there was a handprint. It wasn’t printed, you know, with ink. It was stuck in with a dark substance. I like to think maybe it was chocolate or something… but I doubt it. The weirdest thing about it, though, was that it had no fingers.

“When I closed that awful thing, I looked up, and it was dark outside. I’d apparently been reading for hours. I want you to understand—this wasn’t a big book. Maybe twenty pages, tops. And I’d found it near the start of my shift. I have no idea where all that time went, or how I didn’t notice it passing. Or why no one came in to disturb me. It’s like no one came to the library that entire day. I lived in a small town, like I said, but it wasn’t that small. We usually had people trickling in and out, even on slow days. Retired people who needed something to do, school kids doing homework, you know. You have a library here, you should understand, even if yours is more, uh… specific. So, it was really strange that no one had come in at all.

“Anyway, it was a horrible, horrible book. It was like someone set out to write a kids’ book about why they should do their chores, but instead of that, it was this nightmare version. I really didn’t want to add it to our library. Where would you even put a book like that? So I didn’t put it in the donation pile like I’d planned. But I also didn’t seem… able to just, like, get rid of it. I couldn’t just throw it away. Not because it was old and weird and maybe worth some money, no, more like… I don’t know. I just couldn’t do it. It’s hard to explain. So I put it in my desk, went home, and tried to forget about it.

“I’ll admit that, at the time, my apartment—my flat, you call ‘em here—wasn’t the cleanest back then. And thinking of that book, I kind of wanted to clean it. But also… I really didn’t. Thinking of that book made me very aware of the mess, but I kept thinking of that kid and the way his fingers just fell off, one by one, with that horrifying mom with her broken neck just watching, and then that handprint in the back of the book.

“I thought maybe whoever owned the book last, that Leitner person or whoever, put the handprint in there as some kind of joke. Just tilted up their fingers so they didn’t touch the page, to make it look like they didn’t have any. But I guess I kinda doubted that, even then.

“I made dinner that night, fed Jim and Pam—they’re my cats—and I left the plates in the sink to clean the next day.

“In the morning, they were stacked on the counter, perfectly clean. I tried to tell myself maybe I’d cleaned them and forgot, or maybe the cats had…. Somehow bumped them, and licked them clean, and it had just coincidentally looked purposeful. I don’t know. Pam liked to jump up on tables.

“I’d almost put it out of my head when the doorbell rang. I wasn’t expecting any visitors, but sometimes a couple of my friends would drop by at random, so I might not have thought much of it, except that my cats suddenly started acting different. Scared. They were hissing, and they ran off to hide. That wasn’t like them at all. …I didn’t answer the door.

“A half hour or so passed, and I figured whoever it was was probably gone, so I went to peek out the front window. Sure enough, whoever it was… if there ever even was anyone out there… was gone. But there was a box sitting on the welcome mat. Plain cardboard, no shipping label or address or anything.

“I should have left it alone. It probably wouldn’t have changed anything, but… who knows.” He let out a heavy sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t leave it alone. I looked around, I wanted to make sure no one was there. No one was, as far as I could tell, so I opened the door.

“The box was small, maybe 6 inches long, a little less tall and wide than that—err, I’m not sure what that is in metric. Maybe like… 15 centimeters?”

The archivist waved him off. “It’s fine.”

“Sorry. So the box was small, and it was very light when I picked it up, which was honestly a bit of a relief at the time. I could practically hear one of my friends, Virgil, screaming at me about mail bombs. He’s a pretty cautious guy. Now I think maybe he had the right idea.

“I thought maybe the box was empty, even, until I stepped over the threshold and… and I uh, felt something rolling around in there.”

He shuddered at the memory.

“I brought it into the kitchen and opened up the box. Inside was… inside was a single, human finger, cut off just below where the joint would have been on the person’s hand.

“I felt sick. I was sick. I barely made it to the trash can. I remember my cats still didn’t come back to see what was going on, which was unusual for them. Normally they were very nosy little guys. It was like they knew something was very, very wrong. I don’t blame them for staying away.

“I called the cops right away, of course. Or, as soon as I’d calmed down enough to dial the number. I mean, course I did. Someone had dropped off a finger at my door.

“The lady on the phone was very nice, but I don’t think she believed me at first. Or maybe she just couldn’t understand what I was saying. I was a little upset, obviously. Eventually, though, the police did show up. They took the box, asked me some questions, and they left.

“That night, I was in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes, trying to forget the whole thing. I was almost done, but then, somehow… the garbage disposal turned itself on. Something wrong with the wiring, they told maybe. I was so surprised that I dropped the plate I was holding, and the stack of dishes shifted, and somehow, my hand ended up… my finger went down the drain. Into the garbage disposal. It all happened so fast. One second I was just washing a plate, humming the intro to Steven Universe, and the next….

“I scrambled to turn it off, but it was too late. I grabbed a dish towel and drove myself to the hospital in a panic. Only remembered later to send someone to look after the cats.

“They couldn’t save my finger, even if they had tried. There wasn’t anything left to save.

“A week later, I got another package. Left at my door, just like the last one. Identical to the first, but this time it was a different finger. Maybe from the same hand, but it wasn’t like I looked at it long enough to know for sure. And I’m not a doctor. I called the cops again, and they came. They weren’t much help. They poked around a bit, talked to the neighbors, and told me to get a security camera. I did do that.

“I was very careful that day, remembering what had happened last time, even though I knew it was ridiculous. What, some crazy person leaves a severed finger on my doorstep, and that somehow makes me lose my own in a freak accident? …But I was careful, anyway. And nothing happened that day. But the next morning, when I went to go to work… I slammed the car door shut on my finger.

“It kept happening. The same plain cardboard boxes left at my door. The camera always seemed to cut out when they were delivered, although once I swear I caught a glimpse of a silhouette. It looked… wrong, though. Maybe it was a tree casting a shadow or something. No one’s head looks like that.

“I stopped calling the police, eventually. They didn’t help. Just asked the same questions, swore they were doing all they could, and left. I stopped opening the boxes, too. I tried throwing them out, burning them, kicking them into the gutter. I went to stay with my friend Virgil, but the box found me there, too. I moved twice. It didn’t seem to matter. Every week, a box would show up, and within a day or two, even if I never even opened my front door or looked at the box, I’d lose another finger. Until….”

Patton looked down at his lap, where his hands sat. Where each finger should be, they instead ended in neat little stubs just after the knuckle. They were remarkably even, considering that he’d lost each one in different ways, in different weeks. One after the other.

“After that, it finally stopped. My hands healed as much as they ever would, and I went back to work—I still don’t know how I kept that job—and I found that book in my desk. I tried to throw it out, but I couldn’t make myself let go of it. I tried to feed it to the paper shredder, but I couldn’t make myself rip out the pages. Eventually I just threw it across the room, and it landed neatly in the pile of donated books. Apparently, it would have let me just… add it to the collection. But I couldn’t let other people read it—What if the same thing happened to them? So I took it home with me.

“I did try to get rid of it on the way there. I stopped by the river, a dumpster… I tried to set it on fire. Imagine trying to get a lighter to work like this. I couldn’t follow through with any of them, though, and not just because of my hands. The book wouldn’t let me. Or I wouldn’t let myself. I don’t know which it was, really. Maybe I was afraid something worse would happen if I managed to destroy it. I don’t know.

“I locked it away. Buried it where I couldn’t see it. Still, it was like it was calling to me, telling it to hold it, to read it, to place my own hand over that awful handprint. It was driving me crazy. The cats wouldn’t go near the room it was in.

“I tried to ignore it. To forget about it. For a while, I thought it was working. I was still constantly aware of where it was, but it got easier to ignore.

“Then, one day, the doorbell rang. It was another box. Inside was a single, severed toe.”

A silence stretched between them, yawning between Patton and the archivist. The tape recorder ticked on. A tear rolled down Patton’s cheek. When he continued, his voice was choked.

“I will never forgive myself for what I did next, but I couldn’t go through that again. Please don’t judge me. I know it’s unforgiveable. But you can’t understand what it was like, not if you’ve never been through something like that.  I knew it was the book by now, that was doing this to me, and I had to be rid of it. I still couldn’t destroy it, but I could… give it away. So I went and I got the book, and I wrapped it up as best I could, and I wrote ‘DO NOT READ’ on the package in capital letters. And I gave it away. I don’t know who I gave it to, and I don’t want to know. I drove across town, stopped at a random house, and stuffed the book in their mailbox. I can only hope they never read it.”

Patton let out a shaky breath. “It worked.”

The archivist’s face was impassive.

“After that was all finally over, I decided I needed to get out of there. Not just out of the town, but as far as I could get. I had family in the UK, and one of my friends studied abroad here and loved it, plus you guys speak English, so it seemed like as good a place to go as any. So I moved. Nothing else has happened since. I don’t have any fingers, but at least I have all my toes, and I’m rid of that awful book. I’ve tried to forget the whole thing, which as you might imagine, is a little difficult, but I try. Still, when one of my coworkers mentioned this place—I work at a shop now, restocking at night, so I don’t have to see the customers—I decided to come. I just want to be rid of this story. So… if you guys can track down that book, stop it from hurting anyone else, please do.” He clenched his hands, as well as he could. “I don’t want its weight on my mind anymore. It’s done enough to me.”

He fell silent.

“Statement ends,” said Logan. The archivist leaned forward and turned off the tape recorder. “Thank you for coming in. You can leave the way you came. Roman, my assistant, will take down your details. We might contact you if we need further information. Do you, by chance, remember the address of the house where you left the book?”

Patton shook his head. “No, I… I didn’t want to know.”

Logan nodded slowly. “Alright. Well… we appreciate your time.”

“I hope my statement… ah, comes in handy,” Patton joked weakly. He almost smiled at the gobsmacked look on the archivist’s face, the most emotion he’d shown the entire time Patton had been there. And then, he got up, and he left his story behind. He’d given it away to someone else, and he was done with it.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #ts patton #ts logan #ts sides #tss #ts #sanders sides fan fiction #ts fic #ts fanfic #bad things happen bingo #prompt: finger in the mail #bthb #finger in the mail #horror #statement of patton sanders fic #fanfiction #tma #the magnus archives #tma au

[not-delicious-milk]

unspoken

pairing | fushiguro megumi x itadori yuuji, kugisaki nobara x zenin maki

content | um i think this counts as slow burn maybe, idk instrospection? sort of fluffy and sort of angsty? just two emotionally constipated bois and one (1) really bad wingman. or maybe a great wingman. depends on how you look at it. i think this is funny.

word count | 3.2k

form | oneshot

originally posted | 30 December 2020

author's note | i really wanted to make a joke about sukuna having 2 dicks but unfortunately there was no opportunity to. also i did all that research about heian period courtship and what did it amount to? like 3 sentences

He met Fushiguro's eyes, and balked slightly at their intensity. They always seemed to bore right through him, as if his skin was glass and Fushiguro interested himself more in what lay underneath. Not that there's anything he cares about in there.

"You're not hurt, are you? I did push you kind of hard."

Yuuji shook his head quickly. "No, I'm fine." He tried to set his mouth in a neutral line, like Fushiguro so often did.

Fushiguro nodded curtly, and turned to leave, back to where Ijichi was waiting with the car. Yuuji's fingers twitched.

or

yuuji doesn't know how to talk to fushiguro. sukuna "helps."

Fushiguro sure looks nice today. 

Yuuji sighed and looked away. He really needed to focus on the mission. There was a grade 2 curse somewhere on the premises of this abandoned building, and if he kept staring at Fushiguro, he'd probably get— 

"Look out!" Yuuji was only briefly aware of the curse's presence before he was aware of concrete, a dull throbbing in his side as he realized Fushiguro just saved him — again — and was busy siccing his Divine Dog on the curse that appeared while he was distracted. 

This is embarrassing, he grumbled to himself. 

You've got that right.

Yuuji did his best to tune out Sukuna's voice as he got up and into battle position. Fushiguro seemed to have the situation under control, so he focused on cleaning up the lower-grade curses swarming around them. 

Something flickered at the edge of his perception. This time, he wouldn't be caught off guard — Yuuji launched himself at the curse on the other end of the room, intercepting it before it had the chance to so much as look at Fushiguro.

"I didn't need your help for that one," scoffed Fushiguro as his Divine Dog slunk back into his shadow. "Honestly, I could have done this alone. Don't know why you insisted on coming."

Yuuji bit back a retort. "I need the experience, right?"

He met Fushiguro's eyes, and balked slightly at their intensity. They always seemed to bore right through him, as if his skin was glass and Fushiguro interested himself more in what lay underneath. Not that there's anything he cares about in there. 

"You're not hurt, are you? I did push you kind of hard." 

Yuuji shook his head quickly. "No, I'm fine." He tried to set his mouth in a neutral line, like Fushiguro so often did. 

Fushiguro nodded curtly, and turned to leave, back to where Ijichi was waiting with the car. Yuuji's fingers twitched. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Movie night was usually somewhat less stressful than fighting a curse. Usually. 

The film was something Yuuji was pretty sure Gojo-sensei had found at the very back of the clearance shelf. The DVD store probably paid him to take it off their hands. It wasn't even so bad it was good, it was just bad. 

Kugisaki had fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of the opening credits. At first, he'd been a little confused and concerned for her health — it was only 6 pm, after all — but sneaking a peek at her phone screen when it lit up intermittently afforded him all the clues he needed. Kugisaki had been texting Maki-senpai, probably for a while, and probably all night. 

Her phone screen lit up again — they were a few hours into the movie, and surely Maki realized she wasn't going to respond, right? Yuuji strained his eyes and recognized the thumbnail of what could only be described as a cursed image. Is that a floating banana? What the— 

Something stirred in his chest. Jealousy? Why? Because Maki and Kugisaki had only been texting for a couple of weeks, and they already shared inside jokes that made Kugisaki laugh like a hyena in the middle of the night? Because they never needed to ask, to confirm, before sharing something — a word, a bag of chips, a seat, a jacket? Because when Kugisaki looked at Maki, with that vulnerability in her eyes that she always disguised with harsh words and thinly veiled threats of violence, Maki looked back?

Yuuji couldn't stop himself from looking at the other person on the couch with him. Fushiguro looked like he was going to cry of boredom. Or punch someone. Or both. 

Should I switch the movie? I don't think he likes it. 

Well, Gojo-sensei picked it. He would probably be offended.

Yuuji looked around. His teacher was conspicuously absent. No way! He's the one who forced us all to watch this shit, and he just leaves before it's over?

"Hey, um…" The question was past his lips before he could stop himself. "Fushiguro, is there something you'd rather…" Yuuji already knew what his answer was going to be. There were plenty of things Fushiguro would rather be doing, let alone watching. Reading a book, for one. Alone. 

He received only a vague shrug in return. "Do whatever you want."

Yuuji found himself staring blankly at the floor. An oppressive silence blanketed the room, even with the vague sound effects and poorly dubbed dialogue coming from the TV. 

This is torture. Say something already.

I would if I could, okay? Unless you have any better ideas.

That managed to shut Sukuna up, at least for a moment. Good. All that was left was to sit through the last scenes of the movie and go back to his room and scream into his pillow. 

Yuuji could feel his forehead flushing and his eyes starting to burn. Oh, no no no no no. Why is this so awkward? At least Fushiguro can't see anything since all the lights are off. Or maybe he can see in the dark, like a vampire? Come to think of it, he is pretty pale… He's probably not saying anything to be polite. I bet he can see everything. I bet he's reading my mind right now with that stupid look of his. 

"I need to go to the bathroom," Yuuji said, a little louder and a little higher than he intended. Fushiguro only raised an eyebrow at him and went back to watching the screen.

As soon as he was out of the dorm common room, Yuuji sucked in a breath of air. 

"Coward."

This time, the cold voice he was so used to hearing came from the back of his hand. Yuuji didn't have anything to say in response. If he did, it would only be in agreement. How pathetic of him. 

"You're damn right that it's pathetic. It's a miracle you can even stand up straight, given your lack of a spine."

Yuuji was almost at the door to his bedroom. 

"I'll help you, just this once."

He froze. Since when did Sukuna help with anything?

"I don't believe you," he muttered.

An eye opened on his hand just to roll itself at him. "I'm the one who has to listen to your self-deprecating monologues, and I'm getting sick of it. Just tell him how you feel, brat." Sukuna's disembodied lips curled into a smirk. "If you don't, I will."

"No way!" Yuuji whisper-shouted. He practically sprinted into his room and, in the absence of a lock, pushed a chair behind his door to grant the illusion of privacy. But Sukuna wasn't done yet, and the next time he closed his eyes, Yuuji found himself ankle-deep in what he really hoped wasn't blood, and looked up a pile of ox skulls at the last person he wanted to hear romantic advice from. 

Sukuna absentmindedly picked at long, black nails. "Why don't you switch with me? I'll be sure not to embarrass myself, so don't worry about that."

"That's kind of creepy. Aren't you like, a thousand years old?" Yuuji wrinkled his nose. "Do you just want him all to yourself?"

Sukuna made a face. "Oh, that's disgusting." He made a retching sound, like a cat coughing up a hairball. "Imply that again and I'll kill you in your sleep."

Yuuji was, at the very least, thankful that the murderous curse sharing his body had standards.

"Now the image is burned into my brain. Look at what you've done, brat." Yuuji only recognized the sensation of being cut into pieces and immediately restored because of how many times his conversations with Sukuna had ended that way. Still, he stumbled a little at the sudden disorientation. 

"Hmm." Sukuna tapped his nails on a skull. "Brat, what have you been educated in?"

"Huh? Aren't you the one who complains about having to sit through my algebra classes? You already know what I'm educated in. Um," Yuuji furrowed his brow. "I took piano lessons when I was 8? Not that I was any good at it."

Sukuna sighed. "I don't care about your algebra or your piano lessons. I mean your courtly skills."

"Uh."

Yuuji heard the creaking of bone, and he was met with two pairs of blood-red eyes suddenly before him. 

"Calligraphy? Poetry?"

"No…?"

Sukuna leaned in closer. "So, nothing then? You know nothing?"

Yuuji pushed him away. "Um, you've seen my handwriting."

"Kids these days." Sukuna clicked his tongue. "How standards have fallen."

"You know, a lot of things have changed between now and when you were alive. For one, there's this new thing called personal space."

The curse ignored him. Yuuji blinked and saw the ceiling of his dorm room, back at home in his body. 

Do you at least have a brush, then?

No, weirdo. I have a pen, if that's good enough for you.

Tch.

Seriously, how are you this far behind? I thought you were starting to get this modern era stuff. 

I am trying to salvage the situation you've put me in, brat. How will you write a letter to him without putting care into your calligraphy?

Nobody said anything about a letter! 

This is how it was done in my time. You certainly don't have any better options.

"Fine, I'll Google it then," Yuuji mumbled. He opened his laptop, his fingers hovering over the keys. Slowly, he typed out "how to tell someone you like them."

The advice was all very vague. It was awkward enough to admit to himself that he liked Fushiguro in a way that went past friendship. It was worse that Sukuna's eye was wide open on his cheek and reading everything he did, reminding Yuuji somewhat of a teacher hovering behind him in the computer lab and reading over his shoulder. 

"It says you should give him a gift. I have an idea." Yuuji didn't want to hear Sukuna's idea. "You should give him the carcass of a beast you slew yourself." Yuuji didn't want to hear any more of Sukuna's ideas. 

"Sukuna, have you ever actually done this before? Because I don't think that would work, even if it was a thousand years ago."

"Why would I need to do such a thing?"

That was a little surprising. "Well, you sounded so confident, I thought you had experience or something."

"Love is a fruitless endeavor. The only thing that matters in this world is the spilling of blood upon the earth, and everything that comes between. But you're so annoying that I decided to stoop down to your level so I could help you. You should be grateful."

"Stoop down to my level? What, is this wounding your pride?"

"My pride isn't something so easily scarred. Hearing your constant chattering, all revolving around that Fushiguro boy, is much more painful than condescending to help you." 

"What's with the flowery language all of a sudden?"

"You really are uncultured."

"Well—" 

The sound of someone knocking at his door startled Yuuji out of his carefully constructed comeback, laced with a few choice words he'd learned from Kugisaki the last time she stubbed her toe. 

"Itadori? The movie's over." Oh fuck. "You left your phone on the couch." The doorknob rattled. 

"Uh, just a second!" Yuuji slammed his laptop shut and dragged the chair out of the way before opening the door.

Fushiguro blinked. "Itadori, were you watching po—"

"Nope! No, I wasn't," Yuuji said, fully aware that every word he spoke only cemented that conclusion in Fushiguro's mind. "I'm just going to take my phone now. See you tomorrow!" 

Yuuji grabbed his phone and made a move to close the door, but Fushiguro caught his wrist. His grip was firm and cool to the touch. 

"You've been acting strange lately. Did something happen?"

"I'm fine," Yuuji said automatically. His lips had probably memorized the shape of those words by now. 

"No, you aren't." Fushiguro's grip tightened a little, as if worried that Yuuji would try to snake out of it. I could try. I'm stronger than him.

"Itadori, look at me."

Shakily, Yuuji turned. Blue eyes met hazel. He felt naked somehow under the spotlight of Fushiguro's penetrating gaze. Oh god, that sounds so wrong. I don't want to think about that, not now.

"Is it something I said? Or did something else happen to you? I want to know." 

(It had nothing to do with anything Fushiguro said, and everything to do with what he didn't.)

Itadori. I need you.

"I said I'm fine."

"And I said you're not." Fushiguro sighed a little and closed his eyes. The flutter of his eyelashes was distracting. "I'm worried about you."

Fushiguro? Worried about him? 

"Why?" Yuuji knew it was a stupid question, but he was feeling pretty stupid at the moment. "Why would you do that?"

"Why—" Fushiguro's grip on Yuuji's wrist loosened in surprise. Yuuji twisted himself away, ready to cache himself in his room, but Fushiguro caught the sleeve of his hoodie instead. Worse, he stepped inside and uncomfortably close to Yuuji.

He could already feel his face turning red, and this time he couldn't rely on the cover of darkness. 

"You're seriously asking me why I worry about you?" Fushiguro's voice didn't sound quite as even as it usually did. Yuuji didn't let himself hope it was concern. "You died in front of me, Yuuji. I… I had nightmares about it for months. Of course I'm worried."

He didn't know if it was Fushiguro's sudden use of his first name, or the quiver that accompanied it, but Yuuji's blood froze. He couldn't move even if he wanted to. 

Fushiguro positioned himself in front of Yuuji, and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. His sapphire-blue eyes, normally so cold and distant, glittered with repressed tears. Yuuji stared at his lips instead. They looked so soft. Fushiguro had been biting them again; they were slightly flushed and raw in some places. 

"Please." Fushiguro was barely whispering now, his words only meant for the two of them. "I don't…"

I don't want to lose you again.  

Yuuji opened his mouth to speak, but didn't know where to start. How could he claim insecurity now that Fushiguro had been so vulnerable with him? His anxieties suddenly seemed very small and pitiful in the face of the burden he'd saddled on his friends. It was his fault that Fushiguro was close to tears now, when he could face curses on his own without a flicker of fear. Dark, thick shame sat heavily in his throat, and all he could do was gasp for air. 

You should take off your shirt.

Indignation replaced guilt in one swift motion. I am not taking off my shirt. 

"Sorry, Fushiguro." The apology was too quick, too shallow. "I'm sorry. For… everything." The back of his throat stung. "I'm sorry for bothering you. Please, just…" Just go. Just leave me alone. 

Just leave me to die. 

"You don't have to worry about me."

It's only going to hurt you in the end.

"I'll be f—"

Fushiguro grabbed him by the back of the head, subtracting from the distance between their faces. "How many times are you going to say you're fine? Is it so hard to believe that I care about you?" 

Don't say it. 

"Is it so hard to consider that I—" Fushiguro's voice broke. A gentle flush crept across his neck as he seemed to realize how close their faces were. 

Yuuji's vision blurred around the edges. Time crawled to a standstill, and there was nothing but the slope of Fushiguro's lips, trembling with words unsaid. Yuuji could hear his heart beating in his ears. He wondered if Fushiguro could hear it too, and if he felt some small comfort in knowing that the heart he had seen torn from its body and discarded like offal had been restored, and that it could beat and bleed and break again. 

"Would you just kiss him already?" 

Yuuji would have liked to think Sukuna had kept that comment for his ears only, but the way Fushiguro reeled back and turned beet red confirmed otherwise. 

"Your purple prose is getting on my nerves. I think I preferred it when you couldn't string sentences together." The lips on his cheek curled. "Honestly, if you had just taken your shirt off like I said, this would have been over already. I should have done it for you."

"What do you have against shirts? Haven't you ruined enough of my hoodies?"

Fushiguro cleared his throat. "Um."

Yuuji's face burned. "Oh. Uh. Sorry about that."

"What is it with you and apologies? You don't have to be sorry for everything." But Fushiguro was laughing. His mask had cracked, or perhaps he removed it himself. 

Yuuji couldn't help but smile. "I'll stop being sorry when you stop acting like you don't need anyone."

Fushiguro's face darkened slightly, as if wrapped in a shadow. "Is that what it was? I—"

Yuuji punched him lightly in the arm before he could apologize. "You're so emotionally constipated." 

The tiniest of grins played on Fushiguro's lips. "So…" He leaned in closer. "What was that about kissing me?"

And this time Yuuji leaned into it, letting Fushiguro take everything he had. His eyelashes, still wet from almost crying, brushed against Yuuji's face as they breathed each other in. Yuuji found himself clinging to him like a lifeline, as if any moment he might slip away.

I'm not going to leave you behind.

He was laughing and crying at the same time. "I never thought you liked me back," Yuuji gasped when he broke away for air.

Fushiguro traced his thumb under Yuuji's eye. "You really are dense, you know that?" "So I've been told."

Is this what I was looking for?

Yuuji melted into him, kissing him like a drowning man gasps for air. How could he have deluded himself into thinking he was alone? How, when Fushiguro's body fit him like a puzzle piece, and they were embracing each other like they had never been separate? 

You're welcome. Brat.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

"You know, I thought you'd at least notice all the times I was staring at you," Fushiguro mumbled sleepily. Their rhythm had slowed and now Yuuji was small and limp in his arms, playing with a strand of his hair. 

"Nope. Not even once." A sea of drowsiness threatened to engulf Yuuji, but he stubbornly resisted, if only to stay with Fushiguro for a moment more. He suppressed a yawn. 

"Gojo caught me watching you train once. He tortured me about it for a week." Fushiguro chuckled softly. "Um, he takes a lot of pictures of you. If you ever find a really blurry photo of you sparring in my room, that's why."

"Mm-hmm." Who knew Fushiguro was so warm? 

"Hey."

Yuuji's gaze flickered up to Fushiguro's eyes. Oh, he thought. They're so open. I can see right through him. 

"I'm here. Okay?"

I'm not going anywhere.

"Okay."

Neither am I.

And there was nothing but Fushiguro's breathing, and the heaviness of sleep, and the weight of words unspoken between them. 

#i spent too long on this #pov: you use too many italics #can you tell this is the first time i've written a kissing scene #normally the stuff i describe in too much detail is cosmic horror and horrible gore #don't ask #i was a troubled 7th grader #sukuna definitely noticed fushiguro staring at yuuji and also his gay panic whenever he was caught #he just didn't feel the need to say anything #tag yourself i'm is that a floating banana #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itafushi #fushiita #itadori x fushiguro #nobamaki #makibara #what even is the ship name for that #nobara x maki

[englandsgray]

Sherlolly Self-Interviews 2020

Well hi 👋

Ignoring the internal image of Gilderoy Lockheart smiling smugly while flashbulbs pop and saying ‘In my autobiography, Magical Me...’ 🙈😆 I shall take the opportunity of this lovely event to introduce myself as a writer of Sherlolly fanfiction on AO3...

I am English and somewhere over 30.  I watched the show as it aired, and lost my heart as quickly to Molly Hooper as to Sherlock Holmes.  The kiss is British television history.  Series 4 is my favourite.  Moriarty on the beach is life.  The Holmes brothers break my heart every time.

I am extremely lucky to have been provided some questions to answer here by @ohaine and @mybrainrots - huge, huge love and thanks to these two lovelies, and not just for this.  I admire you both so much as writers, and your support means the world to me ❤️ Thanks too, to @sherlollyappreciationweek!

Where did you begin to write, and have you written for other fandoms?  I wrote my first fanfic when I was eleven years old - a 100 page ramble about The Monkees.  Oh yes.  Then in 2018, I fell for the characters of the Disney Pixar film Cars and began writing and publishing.  So far so random!  Writing in this fandom sprang from binge-watching all four series of Sherlock during lockdown.  I remembered reading Louise Brealey talking about being disappointed Molly didn’t get chance to ‘roundly kick Sherlock’s arse’ and agreeing with her wholeheartedly.  That, over a few weeks, turned into my first fic - Who You Really Are.  

You’re a recent (and welcome!) arrival to the Sherlolly ship, and I was wondering if writing in an established, less active than it used to be fandom has been a challenge?   Thank you, firstly.  My experience of this fandom has been incredibly positive - the sense of welcome has been wonderful.  I will admit I was terrified posting the first fic - there are hundreds of times more stories posted daily in the Sherlock fandom as in the one I had some experience of.  But I needn’t have worried, it’s been a blast.  I will also admit, that it’s no small thing to be surrounded by such brilliant writing and the long-standing passion which goes with it.  But I find that inspiring in itself, and I’m very glad to be here - how supportive the fandom are makes me feel like I always have been!       

What’s your favourite place and way to write?  My aesthetic is Lin-Manuel Miranda in his in-law’s laundry room 🤣 I wrote my first ten-thousand words on the notes app on my phone before my other half told me to stop being ridiculous!  I switch between the laptop, my phone and longhand (I’m a sucker for a nice notepad and a Uni-Ball Eye) and, more often than not, not sat up properly at a table.   

Since you’ve (done something I’ve never managed successfully and) written a novella length fic... how did you organise/keep track of all the details and where you wanted the story to go?  Did you outline/plot in advance?  First of all - I would love to see a novella length fic from you @mybrainrots!  The final scene of Who You Really Are came to me very early on and I knew I wanted the fic to fit within TFP - a lot of it takes place in the timeframe of the final montage.  At first, it was going to be much more about Sherlock’s relationship with the ideas of sentiment and love (the phrase ‘I’m not sentimental about you, I love you,’ haunted me for a while) and I spent some time researching the psychology and playing with scenes from throughout the series - one of my favourites I didn’t go on to use was inspired by the final scene of THoB.  Using scenes from the canon gave an automatic structure, and I was always aiming for the final one I wrote early on - the two of them on the beach (everything is about the beach, with me!)  As I went along and started, inevitably, to slow down, I mapped out the chapters with a short note of what I wanted to be in each, then would add notes or phrases as they came to me - often emailed from my phone!  I had to force myself through a tricky section set in Baker Street at one point, but it came together in the end.  I did plot The Pathologist’s Skeletons on paper first, as I found with a casefic which remains a WIP, that I can get confused and lose focus when it comes to details and how to reveal them in a way which stays paced and interesting.  I’ll certainly do that from now on with longer stories and cases.  How did you keep up enthusiasm for the work?  I want to write an original novel, so I am forcing myself to work through the knotty bits and blocks as a learning experience.  Not everything is destined to be finished or finessed, of course, but I’m finding this process is building my confidence that I can overcome problems and slow periods.  I also find I know when I need some external inspiration - some of my favourite scenes have come to me while out walking the dog or sitting on the beach.  I’ve also been inspired by books or other series or things going on in the world, as we all are, and sometimes that’s pushed me on.  Plus, of course, I’m a newbie - I’m very much in the honeymoon period of my writing, even though I’ve loved Sherlock for ten years! (Ten years! Bonkers.) 

You’ve got a knack for writing Sherlock’s thoughts and capturing his voice.  That said, which character do you find easiest to write?  Which is the hardest?  Thank you so much.  I absolutely love writing Sherlock and Mycroft, and I’m sure that’s because they suit my somewhat over-the-top writing style!  I find Molly and her POV really difficult.  I want the scenes I write from her perspective to sound completely different to Sherlock, but that means writing in a style which doesn’t come as naturally to me.  I’m a long way off happy with that at the moment, but I’m enjoying the challenge.

Is there a scene or character that specifically inspired you to start writing Sherlolly?  The whole of TFP, but especially from the moment Sherlock arrives at Musgrave onwards.  I am desperate to see what a Sherlock Holmes who has been reacquainted with his own heart would look like.  I find his emotionality in those final scenes hugely compelling (Mycroft’s office is one of my favourite moments from across all four series) and, as I have always believed in him and Molly, I practically jumped up back in May after watching it and said ‘right, where’s my notebook?!’.

There’s a lovely peaceful, quiet feeling to your fic ‘We’re All Right At The Moment’.  Can you tell us what inspired it and if you’ve thought of doing the backstory that goes with it?  Thank you!  Like everyone, I would go back to January of this year and start again in a heartbeat, but I am hugely fortunate to be able to say that I have a lot to be grateful to the UK lockdowns for.  I might never have begun writing in this fandom otherwise, for one, and I have had a brilliant time so far and met some lovely people. Honestly, I don’t feel able to do any sort of justice in my writing to what has happened in the world in any broader sense than drawing on my own experiences of staying at home and enjoying my family.  This particular super-short fic sees Molly cutting Sherlock’s hair at home in Baker Street.  I wrote it in the evening after I had cut my other half’s hair and had been reminding myself that despite how horribly worried I was - and still am - about everything, we were all right in that moment, and to focus on that as much as possible.  I wanted to try to capture that, if for no reason other than to look back on this entire experience and remember something lovely, so I am so pleased to hear you felt the fic did that.  It was only after I finished it and reread it, that I realised it is ambiguous as to whether Molly is worried about Sherlock contracting the virus, or whether she is remembering him being treated for it... As I say, I don’t think I could write more about these extraordinary circumstances - perhaps it’s just too close at the moment - so I don’t plan on extending it.  But you know how it is, the plot bunnies hop where they will... 

Do you have a Sherlolly music playlist?  What are your top five favs from the list? Here’s a run down of (6 🙊) songs I have been getting emotional over in the last little while, leading my brain to assign their significance to my favourite couple...

Kissing You - Des’Ree - It’s so 90′s, it’s a bit cheesy, it’s oddly disturbing.  It helped me write A Request, Made Properly, and that gave me an excuse to have Sherlock kiss Molly in the snow.

How Long Will I Love You? - Ellie Goulding - part of the playlist, but also in remembrance of a friend who passed away recently.  Life is very short, love is forever.

High and Dry - Jamie Cullum - It’s made me emotional for a very long time.  The original is my partner’s version of choice, this is mine.  

Think About You - Delta Goodrem - Okay, this one isn’t emotional, and it’s not my usual vibe!  Blame the zoom exercise class I do!  But oh my goodness, it’s Molly.  Bless her.

Blinded By Your Grace (P.T.2. F.T. MNEK) - Stormzy - One of the best ever, I reckon.  Spent an awful lot of time thinking about angels and demons, grace and what it takes to save someone, while writing my latest - The Pathologist’s Skeletons.  This has been in my head most of the (blimmin’) time!

Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding - I didn’t know I was a fan of Ellie until I wrote this list... I don’t subscribe to the theory that the love Molly wants or that which Sherlock has to offer is any lesser because it isn’t ‘normal’ or expected. I don’t think romantic entanglement would come easy to either of them. But it’s still love and it would be beautiful.

Thank you so much for reading.  Thanks and love to @ohaine and @mybrainrots. And thank you @sherlollyappreciationweek for the event and for everything you do ❤️

Feel like I should sign off with a quote from the show...

“You’re not a puzzle-solver, you never have been. You’re a drama queen!” Dr John Watson (Moffat & Gatiss) 2014 😜

X

A fav fic of mine by @mybrainrots

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563193

A fav fic of mine by @ohaine

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562904

My stuff:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglandsGray/works

#sherlolly #sherlollyselfinterview20 #sherlock #sherlockbbc #writing #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 author #read on ao3

[noona-clock]

The Engineer

Genre: Engineer!AU

Pairing: Chanwoo x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,190

Don’t you just hate it when you’re walking along -- a completely innocent walk at your local park -- and a baseball whizzes by you, barely missing you? Like, it almost could’ve hit your head that’s how close it was.

Anyone would hate that, I think that’s a very fair statement to make.

Nobody ever wants to almost get hit by a baseball, especially in the head.

But I guess it was a good thing you almost got hit and didn’t actually get hit. That certainly would’ve been much, much worse.

Still, though. The sound of someone yelling ‘Watch out!’ and the sharp, breezy whoosh of a baseball flying right in front of your face was enough to make you freeze in your tracks, enough to make your heartbeat quicken -- after it stopped altogether, of course.

You let out a breath when you heard the ball land on the ground with a thud somewhere behind you, and you blinked a couple of times at the sound of footsteps thumping toward you.

“I’m so sorry,” a voice panted.

When you managed to turn your head to look at whoever it was apologizing for almost hitting you in the head with a baseball...

You hadn’t been expecting that.

You honestly weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

And, in this case, by ‘that’ you meant ‘him.’

A tall, broad-shouldered, somewhat baby-faced guy with the most concerned (and adorable) expression was approaching you, and you suddenly had no qualms with the fact you could’ve been knocked unconscious by his carelessness. And his baseball.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, slowing his jog and taking more cautious steps to reach you. “Are you all right? It didn’t hit you, did it?”

“Mm?” you hummed. And then you immediately shook your head, a small grin tugging at the corners of your lips. “Oh, no. No, it didn’t hit me. I’m fine.”

You weren’t the only one who was fine in this situation... 

But, obviously, you meant ‘fine’ in another way because this guy -- whoever he was -- was fine.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his brow still knit with worry.

“Yes,” you chuckled. “It just missed me.”

He let out a soft sigh of relief, and after spotting the baseball, hurried over to pick it up.

Now, it would be remiss of me not to point out that this kind of thing... didn’t really happen to you. Ever.

You didn’t just almost get knocked down by a baseball and then the person who threw said baseball turned out to be kind of incredibly cute every day. Not even every week. Or month! You weren’t the kind of person who just happened to meet good-looking people all the time.

Or ever.

And, for some reason, you didn’t want to let this guy grab his baseball and then just run away after apologizing one last time.

No. You weren’t going to let that happen. Not today.

Today, you were going to -- what did they say nowadays? You were going to take your shot? Make your shot? Not throw away your --

SHOOT your shot! That was it!

You were going to shoot your shot, and --

Oh, and now he was smiling awkwardly at you and turning to walk away and you had completely been too lost in thought to notice that he was about to leave so you blurted out, “That was a great throw!”

The guy paused, and his awkward smile became a bit more genuine. He relaxed a little, turning the baseball over in his hands and gently throwing it into his mitt.

“Oh, thanks,” he replied with a soft, bashful laugh.

And that soft, bashful laugh brought out the dimples in his cheeks, and you immediately knew you were a goner.

“I mean, if you were trying to aim for me, then it wasn’t a great throw. But you probably weren’t.”

“No, no, of course I wasn’t!” 

“Then, yeah, it was a great throw,” you chuckled. “Do you, like, actually play?”

...Honestly, what kind of a question was that? Was your brain functioning properly right now?

“Not actually,” he answered. “Just a hobby, I guess. I would like to, but I don’t really have time.”

You almost let out a sigh of relief because he had, apparently, known what you meant.

“Well, you seem good enough to be a professional. I mean, not that I really know much about baseball, and I’ve literally just seen you throw one time, but it was super fast. That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he replied, his dimples getting even deeper as his smile grew wider. And then, despite the fact you basically sounded like a bumbling idiot, he took a step closer to you and held out his hand for a greeting handshake. “I’m, uh, Chanwoo. By the way.”

He had a name!

“Y/N,” you told him with a grin as you shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too. But I’m sorry we met because I almost hit you in the head with a baseball.”

If that sentence had come from just about any other guy you’d ever met, it would’ve been a pick-up line. But, somehow, you knew Chanwoo hadn’t meant it like that. If he had, he had done a bang-up job of not making it seem like he had.

“Hey, it’s better than meeting because you did hit me in the head with a baseball,” you smirked.

“That... is very true,” Chanwoo replied as a soft blush tinged his cheeks.

Oh, god. His blush paired with his dimples made you want to reach out and pinch his cheeks so badly! How did someone so cute actually exist in this world and be standing right in front of you?

And how had you never seen him before?

“Are... are you new around here?” you asked, your brow gently knitting together in curiosity. You were sure you hadn’t seen him before; if you had, you definitely would’ve remembered him. He was too cute to forget!

“Ah, uh -- no,” he told you. “No, I... I actually grew up around here.”

Your brow furrowed more deeply.

“You did?” you asked with surprise. “So did I. What high school did you go to?”

When he answered that he had attended the same high school you did, you immediately asked him what year he graduated.

He told you.

And you almost screamed.

If your math wasn’t mistaken, he had entered high school after you had left.

So, it all made sense now. Now you knew why you didn’t recognize him. The two of you had gone to the same school, just not at the same time.

And now you felt like an absolute grandma.

“Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly. “Got it. I... I graduated a few years before.”

Chanwoo, surprisingly, did not look awkward. He actually smiled. “Do you know my friend Bobby? He graduated before me, too.”

Him you did know.

“Yes, I’ve heard of him.” But there was still a small problem. “He... graduated two years after me.”

So, Chanwoo’s older friend was still younger than you. Wow. Great.

If you hadn’t already felt uncomfortable, you sure would have after hearing that.

“Well,” you said brightly -- but the brightness sounded fake even to your own ears. “I should let you get back to practicing.”

“And I’ll let you get back to... whatever it was you were doing,” Chanwoo replied as he dipped his head into a nod.

You simply shot him a close-lipped smile before booking it outta there.

...Okay, you didn’t really book it. You just walked away. But on the inside -- emotionally and mentally -- you were booking it.

You felt like a complete fool. You’d been interested and flirting and he was so stinking cute... and you were quite a bit older than him.

I mean, not that an age difference is really a big deal. It was just strange and a little uncomfortable being on the upper end of that age difference.

Oh, well. You were older than him, but you weren’t that old. You still had plenty of time to find someone!

By the time you woke up the next morning, you had completely forgotten about... 

What was his name?

See? You had forgotten all about him!

At least, you told yourself you had forgotten all about him. You couldn’t quite seem to get his attractive face and dimples out of your mind -- but you didn’t admit that to yourself.

You also didn’t go back to the park, instead choosing to take your walks around your neighborhood or on the treadmill in your basement. Neither option had as pretty scenery as the park, but you were trying to avoid seeing You Know Who in person. A more pleasant environment was just the sacrifice you had to make.

But then it started getting too hot outside to walk around your neighborhood, and while you could’ve bypassed the heat by walking early in the morning or later in the evening... you were just too lazy. It was enough for you to actually take a walk every single day! Plus, you were more of an Afternoon kind of person. Not an Early Bird or a Night Owl; your mind was the sharpest and you had the most energy for a few hours right after lunch, and since you did freelance work for your job, you were able to create your own schedule. Going for a nice walk around 2 PM every day was just your thing!

But, anyway. It was too hot to walk at 2 PM every day now, so you really had no choice but to trek down to your basement and walk on the treadmill while you watched a YouTube video or TV show.

It wasn’t your favorite thing to do, but you put up with it.

...That is, until your air conditioning system stopped working.

The whole point of exercising inside was because it was too hot outside. With your air conditioning broken, it really wasn’t any better. And your basement was the coolest part of the house!

This would absolutely not do. Not only could you not exercise in a non-air conditioned house when it was blazing hot outside, you couldn’t do anything in a non-air conditioned house when it was blazing hot outside.

You couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t relax and watch television or read, you couldn’t sit at your laptop and work -- you couldn’t live!

So, you barely waited a couple of hours after discovering it wasn’t working to look up a local handyman or mechanic. The company you’d been loyal to since moving into this house a few years ago had changed owners, and you had not had a pleasant experience when one of the new technicians had come to install a new light fixture last month -- it was time for someone new.

Just as you were pulling up a web browser to search for nearby handyman companies, you remembered your neighbor’s air conditioner had broken not too long ago. You decided to go over and see if she recommended them, and when she did, you asked for their phone number so you could give them a call.

Once you got back to your (extremely uncomfortable) house, you immediately rang them up to see if they could send someone out as soon as possible.

“Hello, thank you for calling YG Mechanical, how can I help you?” a young lady greeted.

“Hi, yes, my air conditioning unit is no longer working, so I was hoping to get someone to come out and take a look,” you told her.

“Absolutely,” she said. “When is the best availability for you?”

“I’m home all day, so any time, really.”

“All right, let me take a look... Oh, it looks like we have a technician with some time later this afternoon. Would that work for you?”

“Yes, that would be perfect.” Thank god.

After you gave her your name, address, and phone number, she confirmed the time window and thanked you for calling.

You wanted to reply with ‘No, thank you’ because she couldn’t feel how miserable it was inside your house but it was miserable, and getting things fixed in just a few hours was more than you could ask for.

...Still, though, you would have to get through the next few hours of work.

When your doorbell finally -- finally! -- rang, you closed your laptop hurriedly and sprang from your desk chair to go answer it.

Of course, jogging to the front door would only make you feel even more disgusting after sitting in a house with no cool air for several hours, but you couldn’t wait any longer than was absolutely necessary to let the handyman in.

When you arrived at your front door, you took a few seconds to let out a sigh, pat off the small beads of sweat on your face, and then you unlocked and opened it.

Your mouth opened to greet your savior -- whomever it was -- but when your eyes landed on the person standing on your doorstep...

It was Chanwoo.

Part 2

#kwritersworldnet #chanwoo scenarios #chanwoo imagines #chanwoo au #chanwoo fluff #chanwoo fanfic #ikon scenarios #ikon imagines #ikon au #ikon fluff #ikon fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #ikon #chanwoo #jung chanwoo #ikon chan