#out of the ones i watched today bad romance was kind of a flop but kurt absolutely slayed during rose's turn ngl

[concerto-roblox]

why is it every time i start getting existential past midnight i end up watching random glee music videos until 3am

#i've never even watched glee but i did watch mike's mic's unhinged recap so i feel like i have sufficient prior knowledge #out of the ones i watched today bad romance was kind of a flop but kurt absolutely slayed during rose's turn ngl #and rachel and santana both ate and left no crumbs with don't rain on my parade #btw if anyone's wondering my favourite glee cover is river deep mountain high #that's a galactic slay if i ever saw one #how to be cringe 101

[goldensugarywaffles]

Oops I Summoned a Succubus!

Summary: The maknae line summoned a demon and now it’s everyone’s problem.

Warnings: Innuendos, discussions of sex, and Y/n and Taehyung being slight perverts?

Author’s Note: New series! Less edgy than my other one. Don’t really write smut so we’ll see how this goes. Practice makes perfect and I have now given myself an entire series to practice with T-T...inspired by @sunshinerainbowsbts​ because she is the one person who can make me cackle and leave me scandalized in the same fic. She made me laugh and now everyone has to suffer. Forgive me if the fic is bad I swear I tried...

Taehyung was bored and horny. An often-dangerous combination with horrible consequences. After the last incident, it took months before Jimin could look at cucumbers again without a chill going down his spine. Rolling off the couch with a groan, Taehyung set off on his search for some entertainment. While he would usually quell his arousal with help from one of his six boyfriends, he wasn’t in the mood today. With the group becoming increasingly popular by the day, the time for romance and sex was virtually nonexistent. Even when they had the chance to engage in such things, there was no spark. It was practically a chore to relieve stress. Sighing sadly, he wandered into the gaming room, hoping to drown his boredom with video games.

Walking into the room, he was met with a familiar sight. Jungkook was at his computer, grumbling out curses and aggressively smashing the buttons of his keyboard with no strategy. Across the room, Jimin sat watching the younger boy in mild amusement. “How many times has he failed this level?" Planting a kiss on Jimin's cheek, he flops down next to the dancer with a huff. Jimin merely chuckles in response, "I've lost count after fifteen. He's been here for hours, and I don't think he plans to leave anytime soon." Taehyung hums in acknowledgment, watching as Jungkook’s character dies and the screen fades to black flashing the words “Game Over” across the screen. With an angry shout, Jungkook tosses down his mouse. Grumpily making his way to his older lovers, he collapses on their laps without a single care in the world. Jimin fondly pats Jungkook’s butt while Taehyung runs a comforting hand through the younger idol’s hair.

“Guys, I’m bored. Let’s do something fun,” Taehyung whines. If anyone was going to entertain his antics, it would be Jimin and Jungkook. The three were often known for getting into all kinds of mischief. Lifting his head from Taehyung’s lap Jungkook gave the singer a curious look. "You aren't horny, too, are you?" Jimin shivers at the statement. He would never trust a bored and horny Taehyung ever again. Taehyung scoffs, “If you must know, yes, I am feeling a little worked up right now.” Jimin subtly shifts in his spot, preparing to make his escape. Taehyung cuts him off before he gets the chance, “However, I am mostly bored and do not feel like having sex right now.” Jimin instantly relaxes while Jungkook pouts, the youngest’s sex drive insatiable.

“Well, what do you want to do?” Jimin questions, not fully convinced about Taehyung’s innocent intentions but willing to play along anyway. Taehyung hums, "I want to do something mischievous but not necessarily harmful.” Jimin raises an eyebrow at the vague statement. “Like a prank?” Jungkook excitedly suggests. Jungkook was a master at pranks and knew exactly how to set everyone off. “Let’s prank Namjoon! He’s the least scary while angry and will probably only lecture us,” Jungkook gushes, “Oh! Or he’ll do that thing where he looks at us, sighs, and then walks away.” Taehyung nods in agreement. For now, Namjoon was the safest choice to prank, especially because he was in a good mood today when Taehyungs last saw him. “How should we prank him? He’s already clumsy,” Taehyung muses. “We could rearrange his books by size instead of the genre,” Jimin offers. Namjoon’s room was extremely organized, or he would often lose things. Namjoon was especially adamant that his books remain organized by genre and hated when people tampered with them.

Taehyung shrugs; while this wasn't the most exciting activity, he figures it could alleviate at least some of the boredom. Hopping off the couch, the boys make their way to Namjoon's room, knowing that all the others are out for the day. Yoongi was probably locked up in his genius lab, Hoseok was at the dance studio, and Seokjin had gone to the grocery store dragging Namjoon with him. “Okay, what are we waiting for?" Jungkook hops off the other two and rushes to Namjoon's room, far more excited than he should be. Grabbing the younger's hand, Jimin drags Taehyung along to the leader's office. By the time they arrive, Jungkook has already removed various books from the shelves leaving them scattered all over the floor. With a shrug, Jimin starts helping, picking up books and looking over them as if he is interested in what they have to say. Taehyung groans, this was one of the most boring pranks they had ever come up with, and he couldn't believe he agreed to it. Sitting on Namjoon's desk, Taehyung yelps when he sits on something. Looking at the offending object, he suddenly becomes intrigued.  

It wasn’t a book that Namjoon would typically read. It looked old and didn’t even have a title. There was an intricate design of red flowers all over the cover with gold embroidered around them. "Taehyung, why aren't you helping? You were the one who was bored,” Jungkook whines draping himself over the singer to get a look at whatever had caught his hyung’s attention. Giving up on his work Jimin makes his way over to the other two. “What are you two doing?" Taehyung traces his fingers over the book, a sudden chill going down his spine. For some reason, it felt ominous. Flipping the book open to the last page, he reads the passage aloud.

The Demon of Eros Summoning Spell:

From the blood of Eros and blessed by the hands of Aphrodite, a creature of passion and pleasure was born. A gift to mortals and mystical creatures alike, their one true purpose is to serve and provide in the most intimate ways. To fulfill your deepest desires and mend the wounds of the heart, summon the demon if you dare and follow the ritual exactly:

Obtain the flowers born from Eros’ demon:

Coriander for Lust, Roses for Love, Camellia for Desire, and Chrysanthemum for Death

Obtain the demon’s spices:

Cinnamon, Ginseng, Nutmeg, and Ginger.

Spread the ingredients in a large circle, and add three drops of blood from the summoners.

Chant the spell: I summon the sinful demon of lust, pleasure, love, and desire. To pull your soul from the pits of fire. Reveal yourself to the great cosmos; I call upon you, the demon of Eros!

The boys stood in confusion around the book. Why did Namjoon have a demon-summoning book? Ignoring the feeling of unease in his stomach, Taehyung speaks, "What if we summon it?” Jimin scoffs while Jungkook’s breath hitches. “You want to summon a demon?” Jungkook questions the older vocalist, trying to understand if he heard correctly. Taehyung nods, “It would be a great prank. We’ll wait until everyone gets home and then summon the demon!” Jimin raises an eyebrow at the younger man, “You do realize this won’t really summon a demon, right? Demons aren’t real, and this is probably just an old occult book Namjoon found." Taehyung nods in confidently, "All the more reason to do it. Demons aren't real, and no one will get hurt." Jungkook hesitates; while demons aren't real, he still feels uneasy with the whole idea. However, looking at the excitement on Taehyung and Jimin's faces, he relents.

“Alright, where do we get all this stuff?”

Yoongi was tired. He had been locked away in his studio all day long and probably wouldn’t have left if it wasn't for Hoseok. The two men shuffle towards their home, ready for a decent meal and a good night’s sleep. Hoseok leans into Yoongi, almost ready to pass out after an intense session of dancing. The younger rapper pushed himself far beyond his limits despite Yoongi's protests. Placing a gentle kiss on the dancer’s temple, Yoongi unlocks the door, ready for a peaceful night.

Unfortunately, peace is not a thing in the Bangtan household. As soon as he opens the door, his poor ears are assaulted with shouts and shrieks. Seokjin is red in the face speaking so fast that Yoongi can barely understand him. It would have been an almost sight if it wasn’t for the scene in front of him. There are flowers and some sort of powder scattered around his living room. Jimin is standing on a couch arguing with Jin as if the height gave him an advantage. Jungkook is holding Seokjin back from snatching Jimin up. Taehyung has some book in his hand, declaring no one can stop him. Sitting in the corner, Namjoon merely watches, clearly giving up on de-escalating the situation at hand. While Yoongi would ask what's happening, he doesn't have it in him to care. He drags Hoseok over to the couch, flopping down on it and forcing Jimin to move over. Closing his eyes he decides to wait until the commotion dies down before attempting to engage with anyone.

Suddenly Taehyung shouts, “I summon the sinful demon. Of lust, pleasure, love, and desire. To pull your soul from the pits of fire. Reveal yourself to the great cosmos; I call upon you, the demon of Eros!” The room immediately gets quiet. While Yoongi was not completely aware of what was happening, he managed to put two and two together. Taehyung was trying to summon a demon, Jimin and Jungkook were in on it, and he just chanted the spell. Looking around the room, everyone waits for something to happen. Even Hoseok, who had woken up out of his sleepy state after hearing the word demon and summon in the same sentence. After a solid minute, Jimin laughed, "I told you it wasn't real, Jin!”

As if on cue the power went out and suddenly shrouded in darkness. Hoseok immediately screamed and followed it up with a violent slew of curses. Seokjin immediately went into a tirade against Jimin while the latter defiantly claimed it was a coincidence. "Um, guys, look," Namjoon's voice echoed throughout the dark room, and everyone turned their attention to the mess on the floor. The flowers and spices were glowing a faint pink color. Soon they started shifting as if they were being pushed by a breeze, swirling up into a glowing tornado. The boys stood in horror as the tornado burst into a bright light.

“What the fuck is happening?”

“I told you not to summon the demon! Now look!”

“We’re all going to die!”

Suddenly everything stops. The wind no longer blows, and the light disappears. Even the power comes back on.

Rubbing at his eyes, Namjoon looks around to see the men doing the same. Namjoon attempts to compose himself before flinching at Hoseok’s signature scream. In the center of the room stood a girl. An alarmingly attractive girl. At first glance, she seemed normal, dressed in a hoodie and some joggers with white sneakers to match. She didn’t even glance at the seven men in the room, her attention captivated by the cell phone in her hand and the headphones signifying she couldn’t hear a thing. But looking closer, Namjoon saw a pair of dark horns protruding from her head and a striking set of sparkling eyes with flecks of red and pink. Looking up from her phone, her smile immediately dropped from her face, “Oh fuck.”

And for the third time that night, Hoseok screamed.

Jimin wasn’t exactly sure how demons worked. After all, he didn’t believe they were real until five minutes ago. But from what he gathered so far, you were not a normal demon. Almost immediately after being summoned, you had changed your appearance, your horns disappearing and your eyes a more natural color. You merely observed the idol band lose their shit and even allowed Seokjin to tie you to a chair and attempt to banish you with a twenty-four-karat gold necklace with a cross charm that he found in Jimin’s room. Namjoon had immediately fetched a notebook and began taking notes about every detail he could find, while Taehyung bombarded you with so many questions it made your head spin.

After a good thirty minutes, the men had seemed to calm down, and you decided now was a good time as any to introduce yourself. After all, while you usually enjoyed being tied up, there was nothing sexy about this situation. In a puff of bright pink smoke, you suddenly appeared on their couch, no longer restrained by the ropes Seokjin had taken the time to put you in. You held your hands out in a surrendering motion, hoping your usage of magic wouldn’t set off another freakout. “Everyone, let's calm down. I’m not going to hurt anyone. Well, unless you want me to, but that's a conversation for later. Sorry for the dramatic entrance. It's a typical thing we demons do so that mortals have no room to deny our existence. Just some basic stuff. Anyway, my name is Y/n, and I’m your personal demon.” The boys blink in shock at your clearly practiced and polite tone, fully expecting you to take their souls and suck their blood. A minute of silence passes before you decide to prompt the men, the awkward silence suffocating.

“So, may I ask who I am speaking to? Something I can call you other than daddy?” Jungkook choked at the thought, and you gave him an innocent smile. Seokjin, on the other hand, scoffs, far more concerned about your supposed lack of knowledge about who they are. “Wait. You don’t know who we are?” This causes all seven of the men to look at you incredulously. While they never considered themselves to be arrogant or narcissistic, they found it virtually impossible that'd even a demon wouldn't know who they were. Rolling your eyes, you figure that they are no longer freaked out if they have the time to worry about their popularity, “Yes, I am aware of who you are. I was simply being polite. But shouldn’t we be focusing on the more serious topic at hand?”

Tilting his head Hoseok regards you wearily, “What serious aspects?” He was concerned that this was the moment you’d reveal your bloody fangs and kill them all. However, he was relieved when all you did was give a half-hearted shrug. “It is extremely clear to me that no one in this house summoned me intentionally. Luckily for you unlike most demons I have a passionate hatred for killing mortals so there will be no repercussions for reckless summoning.” Yoongi quirks a brow at the statement, “I thought you said you were our personal demon? Are you saying we could have summoned someone else? Maybe someone less chatty?”

Ignoring the cat-like man's jab, you decide to give the men the general rundown of summoning Eros’ demon. “Yes, I am your personal demon. Think of it as a matchmaking system. Every person has a specific type and specific needs, and I fit all seven of yours. If anyone else outside of you seven had cast the spell, a different demon would have appeared." Yoongi nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer, but Seokjin, however, was not. After furiously flipping through the pages of the book that summoned you (hoping he could find a way to send you back), he was scandalized to learn just what type of demon you were. Pointing at the maknae line accusingly he shouted, “You three idiots summoned a sex demon! Did you even read the book?”

“Woah, not to ruin the already awkward mood, but sex demon comes off as kind of derogatory, and I'm not into degradation. I’d prefer if you’d use the more politically correct term succubus.” Seokjin flushes, mumbling out a quick apology, caught off guard by your constant sexual references. Hoseok would have almost found it funny if he wasn’t still scared out of his mind at the fact that there was a demon in their living room. In fact, he found it disturbing that everyone else was seemingly okay with the concept.

However, Taehyung still had one very important question, “Where does the sex part come in?” In an instant, the serious tone of the conversation was broken. Jimin immediately slaps his palm to his forehead, Namjoon chokes, Seokjin sputters, Jungkook and Hoseok blush a furious bright red, and Yoongi nods in genuine agreement wondering how you are going to explain that. Surprisingly, you weren’t fazed by the question at all.

“I mean we could go at it now if you wanted.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows immediately shoot up at your bold statement, and you swear he's considering it. However, Namjoon clears his throat gesturing for you to go on and give a more serious explanation. With a sigh, you tap on the book in Seokjin’s hand, “Since you guys clearly have something against reading, I'll give you a basic breakdown. I’m basically a kinky therapist. I bring the spark back into your sex lives and help you explore your kinks while also helping you strengthen your relationship. I’m your personal demon so I already know your kinks now that you've summoned me. So really, my only goal is to get you to embrace them.”

Hoseok nods slowly, though he is still quite cautious. “What exactly do you get out of this? Are you going to take our souls?” Making finger guns at the dancer, you continue, “You know how vampires need blood to survive? Think of me as an energy vampire. While most just drain energy from their prey, leaving them feeling tired and exhausted, succubae choose to feed on sexual energy. It's enjoyable, consensual, and doesn't hurt the person they're feeding from, unlike most other energy ways of energy feeding.”

Every so subtly, Taehyung chimes in, "So how much sex do we need to have? Is this like an everyday thing?” Seokjin slaps the younger man on the back of the head, chastising him for speaking without tact. You only shrug as if he asked about the weather, “I can survive without it for long periods of time. It’s kind of like getting a craving for certain food and just ignoring it. Nothing you need to be worried about.”

Not knowing what else to say, the room gets quiet. It was a lot to take in in one night. Though after some consideration, none of them were necessarily against the idea of having sex with you. You were extremely attractive and seemed genuinely friendly. Fooling around with a succubus with no strings attached even seemed appealing. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

“I’ll bet a hundred bucks that Jimin has a mommy kink.”

“Taehyung what the hell?!”

“Make it two hundred and I’ll tell you if you’re right.”

“Y/n!”

“Deal.”

“Guys seriously?!”

#bts #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #bts poly #bts poly au #Poly BTS #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop fluff #kpop smut #bts demon au #if the grammar and formatting is bad it wasn't me it was the evil goblin that logs onto my laptop and ruins everything

[luxwazhere]

💜 Jumba x Pleakley: Comfort 💚

Summary :: Pleakley is having some negative thoughts eating away at him, and Jumba tries comforting him. <3

Warnings :: Physical touch, crying, self hatred, internalized homo/transphobia, kissing.

Notes :: Romantic, NO nsfw.

It had been a long day for Pleakley. And by a long day, he means that his day was full of watching talk shows and reading gossip magazines. Lilo and Stitch had caught another one of Jumba's experiments yesterday. They were gone most of the day today, trying to find where it truly belongs, and Nani was at who knows where working all day, leaving Jumba and Pleakley alone with eachother at home. This was very common in the Pelekai household, and it's not like that's a terrible thing. Pleakley and Jumba love each other. But sometimes Pleakley felt left out, and weirdly different.

Lilo was the sweet little kid who loved Hula, mummies and monsters, taking pictures of tourists and being a kind soul to all. She and Stitch were always together, him being the cute little blue "dog" that was Lilo's best friend.

Nani was the hard worker, always providing for her family by doing shifts day and night. She kept everyone in tact and under control.

Jumba was the smart one, who you could always go to for questions. He created Stitch and all the other 628 experiments. He was always making something new in his free time.

And what was Pleakley..? The one eyed noodle crossdresser..? He had read countless magazines and articles about feeling low on yourself... and how you should think of the good things, not the bad things. But sometimes its not just that easy.

• ° . 🧪 / 👗 . ° •

Pleakley flopped down on the bottom bunk where he sleeps every night. He laid there for a moment, wallowing in self pity.

He didn't understand why he was so different from everyone else. It confused him how whenever he watched his drama filled romance shows, all the couples were boys loving girls, or girls loving boys.

He didn't get it. He was always being pushed by his mom to find a wife or a girlfriend, but it never felt right.

In reality, it felt embarrassing to keep on "pretending" to be confused. He knew what it was.

He didn't like girls. Not in that way, at least. He liked boys. At some point, he decided to look up these feelings on Jumba's computer. He found out what these feelings he'd been experiencing his entire life meant. In a way, it was reliving.

He was gay. ...and a genderfluid cross dresser.

As Pleakley was laying on his bed, his thoughts taking over his mind, his big eye producing tears, he didn't hear his door open.

"...Pleakley..?"

A big, soft hand was planted on his back in a comforting way. Pleakley immediately jumped up and tried wiping his tears. "O-oh! Jumba? Uh... sorry this is sorta a bad time... um..." His antenna seemed to droop down a bit.

"Is... crying..?" Jumba held the side of Pleakley's face, even though it was turned away from him. He then moved his face around to look at himself. "Pleakley okay..?" His words came out soft and genuine, a side of Jumba that was usually only for Pleakley's eye to see.

Pleakley looked up at him with his loving eye, making straight eye contact. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, so he just pushed himself onto Jumba and they gave eachother a big, loving hug. "ehh... 's okay..." Jumba mumbled while awkwardly patting Pleakley's back. Pleakley and Jumba stayed enveloped in this position for a while, Pleakley sobbing into his shoulder and Jumba slowly getting more comfortable and holding him.

Pleakley suddenly pulled away. "I-I'm..." his voice sounded even more high pitched than normal. "...sorry, Jumba." Jumba looked at him with a puzzled expression. "What is to be sorry about..? Is ok. Pleakley is ok." He said while wrapping his arm around his noodly body. Pleakley leaned into the hug once again.

"...am I weird, Jumba..? Maybe I don't belong here..." He looked down at the ground.

Jumba's eyes widened and he picked up Pleakley's face to face him once again. He seemed to be trying to find the right things to say. "Everyone weird in some way! And weird is okay. Weird is different, as little girl would say. And normal is boring." He finished his sentence with a smile. "...Pleakley belongs just as much as little girl. Or older sister. Or surfer boy, or 626. ...or evil genius." He pointed to himself. "You... Um..." Jumba seemed to have trouble getting his words out now. "Um... Pleakley's existence is important... Important to me. Not wanting you to leave anytime, you know..?"

Pleakley looked up at Jumba as he said these words.

Jumba rubbed the back of his own head as he continued talking. "...many, many, things about you that is good. Tryer of being funny, dresser-uper, nice... nice to everyone. Y-you make Jumba feel happy. Like wanting to hold you."

Jumba looked down at Pleakley and made eye contact with him, just before looking away again.

"I... um..." Jumba said while fidgeting with his fingers.

Pleakley reached out his limp arm and put his hand over Jumba's. He gave Jumba a warm smile and whispered quietly to him. "Jumba... I love you." Jumba looked every which way trying to avoid eye contact with his lover, the compliment now having a permanent home in his mind. His face also seemed to be more rosy pink that usual. "U-um... Yeah...! Jumba... Love Pleakley too." After a short pause of looking at eachother, Jumba confessed this again, but more prominent. "I... Love you too, one eyed noodle." He playfully nudged Pleakley's shoulder.

Pleakley looked up at him with an eye full of tears and love. "Thank you, Jumba... i-it... means a lot to me." Pleakley positioned him self to lay on Jumba's lap, staring up at him. Jumba suddenly grabbed him with one hand and sat him up.

"Uh... try... Earth love ritual..?" He said with a small, sheepish smile. "...saw older girl and surfer boy lover doing this." As he finished his sentence, he swiftly moved closer to Pleakley and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. He pulled away, both of their cheeks now a cherry red.

Pleakley smiled ear to ear and jumped up onto Jumba and hugged him tightly. He whispered a loving "Thank you..." Into his ear as Jumba laid down on the bed with Pleakley on top of him. He put his hand over his slim body, holding him. He mumbled "mhm..." Back before they both fell asleep, Pleakley safe in Jumba's loving arms. <3

#I know I'm cringe 🤭 #First fic #jumba x pleakley #Pleakley #Jumba #Jumba Jookiba #Wendy Pleakley #Pleakley x Jumba #lilo and stitch #l&s #lilo and stitch the series #Fanfic

[harfanfare]

How to win a heart of Jamil Viper?

1.   Don’t be a typical hero(ine).

Contrary to the popular romance trope, tripping over the air to land on a certain cool-looking boy, and dropping all carried things, wouldn’t make Jamil fall for you. Instead, just falling because of you and sharply crashing with a floor would make him rather cautious around you and keeping a distance whether he has anything in his hands.

Believe him or not, he doesn’t need another ditsy and erratic person around him—like a certain leader from a certain dorm, who happens to create a mess anytime, anywhere.

So, let someone else be the protagonist of the story.

In that situation, you may be a side character that gets its way through obstacles and classic borders of story scheme and is much more interesting than the main persona.

That’s how you get his attention.

‎‎‎‎‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

2.   Be a help.

Oh, a person that would help him with his chores means to him much more than gold. Sometimes.

“Can I help you anyhow?” you asked when Jamil was going to the kitchen after a daily training with the rest of the dorm. He lifted his eyebrow, waiting for further explanation. “I mean with cleaning or something.”

Jamil glanced at you, not sure about your intentions.

Who would like to do something to help without having something in return? With only your will? No, it doesn’t work well in the same sentence.

But some help would be great. So, he just needs to keep sure that he won’t fall into any trap for letting you help, yes?

“Sure,” he said casually, not letting his face nor voice reveal any of his thoughts he run into. “[Name], right? Could you bring and clean the dishes from longue?”

And you helped. You really helped him a lot, staying over two hours till everything was shimmering with cleanliness and your abrupt desire to clean something and be more useful, burned out.

“Thank you for your help,” Jamil said, after correcting the last cushion in the Scarabia’s longue. You flashed him a smile. “But why, if I can ask, did you offer it in the first place?”

He got a quick response in form of a shrug.

“I... don’t really know,” you admitted, glancing at him. “...But you don’t complain, no?”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

3.   Be his dish taster.

“The way to a one's heart is through his stomach.”

“Try it,” Jamil handed you a spoon filled with some kind of stew. You consentaneously your opened mouth and drank all content of the spoon. Your mouth filled with many flavours and you couldn’t be sure if you ever ate that good combination in your life. “How was that?”

“Excellent as always.”

You said it all sincerely and maybe would have asked for seconds, if not the fact that Jamil already turned his back to you and got back to pots. He took another spoon and tried the dish himself, clicked his tongue and added more salt.

Once again, he turned to you and handed you a spoon.

“And how was that now?”

“Excellent as always,” you chuckled as he frowned at you.

“Don’t you think that you should add more words to your dictionary? You say the same thing on every dish,” once he said that you finished drying the last plate and preparing silverware for today’s fiesta.

“Don’t you think that I won’t be able to eat anything at the party when I will eat enough of your cooking now to write a poem about each of your culinary masterpieces?” Jamil chuckled slightly at your words.

“So, you don’t want any more?” he teased, but inside he was really flushed. Praises or cajolery, it all makes his heart skip a beat.

Finally, there was someone who appreciated all work he’s done.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

4.   Distract Kalim from him.

“You really shouldn’t go there,” you said, your voice as serious as you could keep it. “I mean, what if there is a monster who wants to kidnap you?”

Kalim cocked his head a little, considering your words. After a while, he nodded, fully convinced by your argument.

“You’re right,” he said. “I will warn others about this..!”

Kalim turned on his heel and spotted some people returning from morning classes. He ran to them, greeting them and walking with them as he tried to introduce the situation.

Still not believing Kalim fall for your words, you were standing alone in the centre of the corridor, a bit dumbstruck to discover the excuse Jamil came up with work.

“...Are you sure, you don’t want to tell him that some student’s from other dorm are here?” you asked as if saying to yourself your thoughts aloud.

But there was someone, someone who was hiding behind a big potted palm. He only gave you thumbs up as a preventative measure if there was still a chance that Kalim didn’t just dash through the halls to talk with some dorm students.

Jamil only looked at you and mouthed “No. Party. Today.” and quietly shifted to the corner, where the wall hid him and he could finally get up.

Mission accomplished.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

5.   Get rid of bugs for him.

“[Name],” Jamil called out to you, bursting through the door to your room. He looked very pale and panic was staying still in his eyes. “Would you be so kind to... deal with an intruder?”

You frowned a little before biting back a sigh. At first, you were concerned. Even Kalim getting in a serious mess didn’t make him react that seriously. But then you remembered that there was one thing that could make Jamil call you out of nowhere, acting like in an emergency. Emergency only in eyes of few.

Bugs.

Jamil never admitted to you that he is scared of them, but every time you brought up the topis, he snapped his fingers at it, saying that insects just aren’t his favourite kind of animal.

“Hmm~ Maybe after I finish this chapter,” you said, conspicuously turning a page of the book you were reading and with all your will trying not to smile nor to look at the wincing expression Jamil was wearing.

“[Name],” he said, his voice shaking with anger or frustration. “Go there right now or I will make sure you won’t get today’s dinner.”

...No dinner?

“Yes, mum,” you said putting the textbook aside and getting up from the comfortable couch.

Of all people, Jamil is probably the only one—well, maybe also Trey—that could make those words sound dangerous. Like, no dinner made by the best chef in Scarabia? It would be pure agony.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6.   Have competitions.

“Aren’t you a little too good in this game?” you asked, regretfully placing pieces of the game back to the initial places.

He gave you a smile that slowly turned into a smirk, as you groaned at the next round you have lost. You flopped on the big pillow, all your will to play destroyed, as you sank between really cosy material.

“I told you I won’t give you a head start,” Jamil said, his steady voice mixed with amusement. “You even told me that you don’t want me to go easy on you before the game started.”

“Too bad,” you clicked your tongue at his response. “I was sure that after watching you play with Kalim, I remembered your tactics.”

You’ve watched at least eight rounds of Jamil and Kalim playing this game, and when it was coming to end, you were almost sure you understood and remembered the technique he was using in certain situations.

But, to your disappointment, it looked like he – even without using any of his tricky cards in his sleeve – was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, because, after three moves, you knew that probably all three were wrong when the opponent was Jamil.

“You gained nothing by it. Of course, I lost to him or... there would be a trouble,” he exclaimed. “You are different.”

“Oh, thank you. I can lose but he can’t, huh?” you frowned at him as he almost choked on the surprise he felt by hearing your response.

“...Yeah, that’s it. Just it.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

7.   Have study sessions together.

“One class had a test before us,” you said scrolling through your class chat group. “They said that there wasn’t any question about these dates.”

Jamil scribbled down years of the most important magic wars, from time to time looking at you who were listing some test exercises and feeling somehow unmotivated to even properly open a history book.

Your notebook was lying in front of you, today’s lesson topic on the top of the page and many detailed doodles on its margin.

Once again... what was the unit you are having an exam about?

“It doesn’t mean, we won’t get a question about that,” Jamil tried to convince you, sliding textbook your way. “Now, read that aloud, while I prepare notes.”

You blinked twice as if woken up from daydreaming. Were you daydreaming?

“Are you sure..? I mean, all I will do is reading. Wouldn’t you rather want us to read it silently and then share our notes after this?”

“Don’t think about it much. I really like your voice,” he said it so thoughtlessly you weren’t sure if said it as an unarguable fact or just his smooth talker abilities were showing off, “and gave me your notes for the last exam so we’re even. And you won’t do any good notes when you’re sulking over this exam like that.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

8.   Remind him to take breaks.

“You won’t get out of here,” you exclaimed spreading your arms as shielding a door from him. “Not a chance.”

Jamil stood a feet next to you, grimace stretching on his lips as he knew what’s coming up.

“I have to go, [Name].”

He tried to get through you, lightly removing you of his way. He wasn’t a fan of using force on anyone, and he was a hater of using force on you.

Much more than a speakable argument, you were pushing each other closer or further from the door, having a staring contest and reciting all the things he had done in the past two days; except for his daily duties and with the upcoming birthday party of few students of Scarabia who happen to have a celebration in the same day, the number of tasks he was given was overwhelming.

“Stop it!” you protested, trying to push him back. “I am seriously worried about you! Please... take a break.”

Every time he was coming closer to the exit, you stepped back, blocking his way, bumping into him and having to try again.

“You know I have a lot of work to do,” he said, finally stepping back and giving you a break from trying to separate him from the door. “I can’t just give up all my duties, even if I would love a break.”

“I can do it for you,” you quickly offered. “But please, now, go to sleep and don’t you dare touch anything related to school or cleaning.”

...What a weird request.

When was the last time anyone told him to take a break?

He doesn’t remember.

But now, he can say it was recently, all thanks to you.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

9.   Promise.

It was really hard for him once all his hard work to keep a high position within the dorm students suddenly dropped after his overblot accident.

“[Name]...”

However, the thing he regretted the most was hurting you. Taking the whole dorm under his unique magic spell, the hypnosis also affected you, making you another servant of his. Even you weren’t the one he ordered a lot, you felt betrayed that even the friendship you two developed didn’t stop him from overblotting.

And if he knew that you would avoid him like fire after the accident, he would probably hesitate a lot.

His throat tightened as he saw you one day in the corridor, looking somehow lonely and tired. He dashed to you, beseeching you to talk to him.

“Sorry for asking, but, Jamil, you don’t hate me, right?” you asked with a pain in your voice. You couldn’t even look at his face, feeling the incomprehensible weight in your gaze. “I mean... Do you only act in front of me friendly? ...Like... with Kalim..?”

“No, no, no,” he protested quickly, making it almost sound like a plea. He gently grabbed your hands, praying that you won’t harshly jerk them back because of him. “I don’t hate you. I really like you. I mean every word I said to you.”

The feeling of release struck you like thunder, you took a big breath, your eyes watering. You slowly reached for his touch, finally ending in a hug.

Jamil ran his fingers through your hair, smelling a familiar, reassuring scent of yours. After a while, he whispered a question.

“So... could you please not avoid me anymore? I know it will be hard to bring up the same relationship we had, but... could you give me a second chance?”

“Okay. But under one condition,” you said, slightly backing off from him. Before he could wonder about the term you would require from him, you finished your thought. “You must be honest with me. I... don’t know what will I do if it all turned to be a play...”

“I will,” he replied, putting his whole heart in these two words. “I will always be honest with you. And won’t ever use my unique magic on you.”

You looked up at him, a small smile starting to rise and heart-throbbing more wilder with his words. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

10.            Make him confess.

“What are you doing this weekend?”

Jamil appeared in front of you, almost like popping out of nowhere, as you were done with today’s lessons and slowly heading to your dorm. He caught up with you, changing his pace to match yours.

“I have no plans. I will be probably sleeping or something,” you answered honestly, shrugging and reminding yourself that you should finally hang out with some people from your class to make sure your social life isn’t all over dead.

You were walking in quietly before Jamil broke silence and spoke up again.

“Would you like to go somewhere?” he asked his voice only giving a hint of nervousness—it was nothing compared to the stress he felt inside. It was just a “yes or no” question, he knew that he will meet in future many amazing people like you and shouldn’t be stressed, but having someone so dear to him being asked for a meeting where he will try to finally out find his feeling... it is stressful.

“Hehe~ what, are you asking me on the date?” you teased, but much more than mocking, you were hoping for an answer. For the honest answer, he promised you.

“...And what if I am?” he asked, his voice a bit hushed, but steady.

You felt how heat was coming all the way up to your cheeks, although you tried your best not to let anything more, as if a blush wasn’t obvious enough, know how excited and spellbound you are.

“Then, your wish is my command.”

#.......i don't know how to feel about this #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #twst jamil #twst jamil x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland jamil x reader #twisted wonderland

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

Let’s say England has a long-term girlfriend he knows isn’t the biggest fan of marriage bc her family had been really really pushy (before she got the heck out of dodge) about her marrying + reproducing ASAP. How might he react if she came to him and said she was kinda starting to like the general concept of marrying him — that is, the whole ‘together forever’ bit. Thanks!

I confess darling that I have been trying to finish this prompt for well over a year, and I offer my sincerest apologies that it’s taken me this long to finish it. Still, despite my tardiness, I hope you enjoy, and I thank you for your patience with me.

You had never intended to fall in love, not with the constant push of your relatives to fall in line like a perfect child.

First, marriage to someone they deemed acceptable, raising the perfect 2.5 children, followed by quietly settling into parenthood and complaisant contentment until the day you last drew breath.

Truth of the matter was, you had avoided all chances of romance for the first few years after you moved away from home, carefully slipping away from anyone who seemed remotely interested in you.

You knew your folks would have disproved such behaviour had they learnt the truth, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You had your own dreams to pursue, your own story to tell, your own life to live; you didn't need someone by your side to feel complete.

You were happy as you were, finding enjoyment in your work and figuring out your place in the world.

You didn’t need, or frankly want, anything more than that.

That was of course until you met him.

Falling in love with Arthur Kirkland had been a complete accident. He slipped past all of your defenses and took up residence in your heart as if he had always belonged there.

It started out slow enough; at first you simply knew him as a familiar face from the cafe in Waterstones, steaming cup of Darjeeling and a chocolate croissant sitting forgotten on the table in front of him, always too focused on his reading to pay any attention to the outside world. After one particularly crowded Sunday afternoon, he began to transition into your favorite dining companion, the two of you often taking turns paying for each other’s food. Slowly but surely, you began forgetting about your books, too wrapped up in conversation, and before you knew it-

You had come to love every part of him- the gentleman that you begrudgingly introduced to your parents, the rebellious and passionate activist, the cocky and playful little shit who had long ago memorised all the best ways to disarm you, and the ancient soul who cared so deeply, who still stretched himself thin most days in effort to protect each of his loved ones.

You fell in love with his voice, whispering sonnets and sonatas and sweet nothings in your ear while his arms cradled you from behind.

You fell in love with his eyes, still losing your footing sometimes when the light caught them just right, dreaming momentarily of summer forests and grassy glades and the misty dews of spring.

You fell in love with his smiles, from the satisfied grin at stirring up Peter’s ire to the breathless wonder each time you kissed or complimented him, to the bright, beautiful, blinding smile he wore when he was incandescently happy, his entire countenance iridescent from his joy.

You loved him completely- for his devotion, for his sweet gestures, for his damned impishness, for his wit, his sass, and the soft spoken affection.

You loved him: for his patience, for his recklessness, for his resilience, for his possessive pride that was somehow more charming than alarming.

He was unique, an enigma that, even after having lived together for years and dating even longer, kept you on your toes, his energy and random spouts of spontaneity proving to you that, even if you spent one hundred lifetimes with him, he would always remain a puzzle you would never fully solve.

And by God did you want to.

Arthur had stolen your heart away from you before you had even noticed he was close enough to take it, offering his own in its stead.

You had remained reluctant, confided in him your fears about settling down, how much you dreaded becoming trapped in a monotonous rut of tedium. He was quick to reassure you, showing through words and actions far more impassioned and teasing than he had ever shown prior, that an eternity with him could never be boring.

Even on quiet days, like today, with a steady drizzle painting the world in greys, Arthur humming quietly while adding another patch to his denim vest, and no other disturbance apart from the cat’s chittering at the robins playing in a puddle by the iron fence- Even now, you weren’t so much bored as you were pensive.

You had been thinking about a future with him a lot in the past few days, some irrelevant ad on your mobile about wedding venues catching your attention and slithering into the back of your mind.

What kind of wedding would he like? Would Arthur prefer something small and intimate, or would his hubris crave a larger venue, giving him yet another chance to prove to the world that he belonged at your side, no one else?  You couldn’t help but wonder if he would wear his uniform or a suit, if he would leave the rats' nest he called a hairstyle untouched, or if he would perhaps slick it back in that way that somehow made the normal rakishness disappear, a confident, refined cavalier standing in his place.

You knew of course that none of this mattered unless you actually talked to him first; as far as you were aware, he was content with the current arrangement, and he respected your views of marriage.

He had known, for a long time, just where the grim outlook stemmed from, and he never breached the subject again.

But now-

You had thought it was enough to hold his love, his faith, his vulnerabilities. But life was so fleeting, and now those few things were no longer enough.

You wanted to wake up every morning next to him, wanted the cheesy partners’ towel and flip flop sets. You wanted the physical reminder that you held his heart, the comforting reminder that he completely possessed your own. You wanted to be by his side forever, holding his hand through the good and the ill, facing new worlds and challenges and the uncertain future together.

You knew the risks, of course.

Marriage to a Nation carried an even heavier burden than the simple oath of “till death do us part.”

No, marrying Arthur would mean weaving your entire lives together, binding you on a spiritual level far surpassing mortality; it would mean sacrificing your chance to ever grow old, to eternally give yourself away: heart, mind, body, and soul.

But this was Arthur, who sang showtunes in the shower, who spent hours making silly faces at the cat, who was ridiculously competitive about Halloween costumes, the man who sat down and memorised the entirety of The Tempest in one night just for the bragging rights.

He already owned your heart, constantly invaded your thoughts and daydreams, and God knew he had long, long ago claimed your body, making certain not a single millimeter of his new territory went unexplored.

Would it really be so bad to give him your soul, too?

Glancing back up, seeing his eyes narrowed in concentration, his fingers handling the needle with expert precision, lips slightly parted, reading glasses fallen halfway down his nose-

You knew your answer.

It was always going to be Arthur for you, only Arthur.

Forever, should he have you.

But now you faced the challenge of telling him that.

It should be simple enough; you really held no more secrets from him, and he no longer bothered trying to hide anything from you. You loved how open you were with one another, cherished the honesty that served as the very foundation to your relationship.

But the truth was that you were terrified.

It had been so long since either of you had spoken of marriage, since the topic was even a thought in your minds, and-

What if he didn't want you anymore?

What if he-

"I can see the steam coming outta your ears."

The unexpected presence of Arthur's voice startled you, eyes darting back over to the very man who was unwittingly tormenting you.

He had barely moved from his earlier position, though his glasses had been pushed up into his hair and he was studying you curiously, if not bemusedly.

"You good there?"

By default, you nearly responded with an affirmative, some playful, lighthearted thing that would have dismissed his concern immediately. You cut yourself off mid-start, then, while shifting to sit properly in the armchair, you decided to push forward. "Can we talk?"

You watched as his expression shifted, revealing his concern as he tied off his thread, setting aside the patchwork and gestured for you to join him on the sofa.

There were a few awkward moments where you took up your favourite positions, Arthur tossing an afghan across the pair of you despite your insistence that you didn't need one, the flicker of a grin as you begrudgingly thanked him, and then shifting around as you both got comfortable, but soon enough-

"Alright, now; talketh at-eth me."

It was impossible to fight the smile his choice of words triggered, a reference to an inside joke so old now that you could scarcely recall its origin. Seeming to deem it a success, his own soft, reassuring smile greeted you.

"Seriously though, luv-" His hand came to rest atop your own, his fingers gently tapping a familiar rhythm against your skin. "What's troubling you?"

You were half-tempted to offer something short of sincerity, something innocuous and mundane that you could both laugh over and forget again within a few hours. Yet, you knew that if you didn't tell him now, didn't ask him now, you would never find the courage again.

"I've been thinking-"

"Ah. A scary premise in its own right."

"Oh, shut up," you retorted to his tease, smacking his arm for his troubles. He rewarded you with a grin, all fondness and mischief. Opting to ignore him, you pressed on, eyes downcast to avoid whatever judgement he may offer.

"As I was trying to say earlier, before I was so rudely interrupted-" The teasing fell off, and the worry crept back in. "I've been thinking. About us."

"O-oh?"

Were you not so consumed by your own anxieties, you would have noticed his stutter, would have seen the sudden tension in his posture, the fear in his eyes. As it was, you were completely oblivious to all of it, and made yourself continue at his prompting.

"I- I think I'm ready."

He mimed the word "ready" to himself, parroting it with utter befuddlement. "For wha-"

"I mean, I know I wasn't for such a long time, and-" Suddenly, you were off, half unhinged. Now that you had admitted the truth aloud, it was all rushing out of you, everything you had come to love about him, everything that-

A finger pressing firmly against your lips stopped you mid-tangent, and when you glanced up to find piercing, blazing emerald focused on you as if you were the very center of the universe, whatever remained of your ramblings disappeared entirely.

"What are you trying to say?"

A simple question, so easy to answer, yet it carried with it the weight of Infinities, demanding nothing save the truth, in its most basic state.

You were lost in his gravity, half-drowning in whatever this new feeling was. It was addicting, another riddle to be solved.

"Marry me."

Time stood still, the words weighing heavily in the space between you, now seemingly insurmountable despite being no more than mere decimeters.

Arthur showed no reaction, revealed no indication that he had even heard your plea, your query, your command, your request, and yet it echoed over and over in your own mind, the tone, the weight, the untimeliness-

Every facet- from your inflection to chosen tempo- crescandoed as an accusation, a mocking symphony that he would reject you, that you would be left with only the haunting strains of your ill-conceived proposal.

And yet-

There was a hesitation in his eyes, the face of a man who wanted wholeheartedly to believe what he had heard, but had been burned far too often in the past to dare allow himself hope.

"You-" His eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed as he studied you once more, only for the suspicion to disappear again almost immediately, disbelief swiftly taking its place. "You're serious?"

It was then that you finally read his nervousness, understood the strange emotion reflecting in his eyes.

You had lead him to a precipice, the vast Unknown before you both, and-

And he was just as fragile as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.

You gave his hand a light squeeze, hoping to ground you both, and offered him a nod. “If you’ll have me, anyway.”

His eyes flickered between your own, darting back-and-forth so quickly in search of a lie, of any doubts, of any hint that you were less than certain- yet you knew he would find none of that.

“What about your family?”

The question took you by surprise; in the moment, you had completely forgotten anyone else even existed.

You weighed his question carefully. Marrying Arthur would give your family leave to gloat in self-satisfaction, and you knew with absolutely certainty that they would hold it over your head for the next three decades. But looking into the eyes of the man before you, remembering all that you had already seen and done together, you found that others' opinions no longer mattered, really hadn't mattered in a long, long time.

“I couldn’t care less about them. Arth-”

Whatever you were going to say was forgotten as he closed the remaining distance between you, moving so swiftly that you scarcely had a moment to steady yourself before he captured you in a searing kiss, one of his most passionate by far.

Somehow, despite the suddenness of it all, the initial force, the intensity- 

He was being incredibly gentle, and moving slowly enough to almost be more a torment than a treat. Almost.

You found yourself lost in a daze when he finally pulled away, just enough for each of you to catch your breaths, just far enough that he could study you with rapt attention. You could have drowned in his eyes, endless greens magnetizing in their intensity. His hands were still cradling your cheeks, still holding you firmly in place, a not completely foreign expression creasing his features.

You couldn't quite place it, even as your memories shifted desperately in search of its mate.

"'If I'd have you?'" His words, a rhetorical refrain of your own mere moments earlier, were scarcely a shared breath between you, murmured in timbre so low it summoned a shiver. There was the smallest twitch of his lip, his head tilting ever so slightly as more of that damned deviousness made its presence known. "I fully intend to have you regardless, luv. But the formality of it all certainly adds a particular je ne sais quoi, wouldn't you agree?"

You'd be damned if he knew just how that made your heart flutter, if he knew just how much weight that reassurance had lifted from your shoulders.

Carefree, content, you offered a playful smile. "Till death do us part then?"

Arthur no longer bothered trying to restrain his smile, soft and sincere in a way that left you breathless. "I'll love you till even the stars go cold, my dear."

Thanks for reading~

#england x reader #aph england #arthur kirkland x reader #hello lovelies~! #hws england #hetalia england #aph arthur kirkland #hetalia arthur kirkland #hws arthur kirkland #reader insert #hetalia x reader #hello lovelies! #readerfic #thanks for reading! #aph england x reader #hetalia england x reader #hws england x reader

[marginalmadness]

Summer Nights: 2/4

Pairing: Rabbit!Hybrid Jungkook x Y/N

Rating: Mature (later explicit)

Genre: Hybrid!Fantasy, Romance, Fluff

Synopsis: A freak weather anomaly leads to a chance encounter with a rabbit-hybrid, and your kind nature results in you gaining a small, fluffy lodger, who questions your taste in television shows. It’s won’t be for long…will it?

Warnings/Tags: This chapter involves Jungkook going into heat.

Author’s Note: If I called @johobi​ patient before, I fucked up the tenses to bad in this chapter, it took her HOURS to fix. But she approved of the chapter which I’m happy about because this is the one I was most worried about. Jungkook Goes into heat in this chapter, and I hope nobody wants to kill me when they finish it.  Chapter 3 is only a week away! <3

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Tags: @kookiebunny97​ @mintyrae​ @skswriting​ 

Word Count: 5.6K

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction for entertainment purposes only. The events depicted here are entirely of my own imagining, and have no basis on actual people or events.

I hope everyone is enjoying BE, and Life Goes On.

Summer Nights: Chapter Two

The next morning is the first day of your new-new normal. You wake to the sound of music coming from the living room. You pull yourself to your feet, shuffling from your bed to find the sourc

The next morning is the first day of your new-new normal. You wake to the sound of music coming from the living room. You pull yourself to your feet, shuffling from your bed to find the source of the enchanting sound. To your shock and delight, you find Jungkook hopping around the kitchen happily, ears and hair bouncing as he sings along to the radio and prepares pancakes. His voice is divine. You stand there enraptured, caught under his spell. He drops the spatula in fright when he turns to find you leaning against the wall, watching him silently.

 “Please continue,” you urge him. But he shakes his head, blushing and hiding behind his ears. “Your voice is so pretty. Please?” you coax, stepping towards him. Jungkook considers you from behind his ears for a second. Then, tentatively, he picks up the spatula and resumes his song while he washes it clean.

 From that day onwards, he wakes you each morning the same way, voice drifting through the bedroom door he leaves slightly ajar. There’s always a stack of warm, fluffy pancakes waiting for you in the kitchen, and beside it a bowl of yogurt-drizzled fruit. As soon as you’re seated, Jungkook extends a freshly brewed cup of breakfast tea to you. You eat together in the early morning light, the radio playing in the background. And while you get ready for work, Jungkook cleaned up the dishes from breakfast. 

 Domestic heaven. 

At the end of your work day, you come home and thank God he’s still there. Sometimes he’s typing away on your laptop. Jungkook signed up as a freelance transcriber as a way to make money while staying with you. It was something to do while you were at work, too, restless soul that he is.  Sometimes, though, you come home to find him flopped on his side in a patch of sun, having a nap as a bunny. 

You cook dinner together now. Well, when you say together, you mean you take his direction, since Jungkook is a much better cook than you. He uses some of his free time to look up recipes he thinks you’ll like. 

It’s ridiculously heartwarming. 

After dinner, as is your routine, you split the washing up and curl up together to watch some Netflix. On the days you do all the washing up, Jungkook doesn’t fight you for control of the TV. 

You still tease him over the first and only time you watched a horror movie. The first jump-scare forced him into rabbit form and he leapt into your lap in fright. Jungkook spent the entire movie there, shivering. And the rest of the night he spent pressed against your side in a tight, furry ball. Of course, the next day he insisted he wasn’t that scared, he just didn’t want to bother you by transforming back and forth.

He did a similar thing when you were watching a sappy romantic movie, but you don’t tease him about that. The second you noticed him sniffling at the lovers’ separation, he turned into a rabbit and hopped off his chair and over to you. You expected him to come cuddle, but he scrambled onto the back of the sofa and situated himself by your head instead. Every time there was a particularly romantic moment, he would nudge you with his nose and tickle you with his whiskers. And when he was feeling particularly bold, he’d grip your shoulder with his front claws and rub his chin over your cheek and neck. It tickled so much it made you squirm. 

After extricating yourself from his clutches, a quick search on the internet told you that rabbits do this to mark their territory. You have trouble looking him in the eye the rest of that day. You know he’s attracted to you; have done since that first night. But he’s been ever so respectful. For some reason, the thought of him marking you as his makes your skin flush and burn.

Shopping for groceries is an experience, too. Jungkook skips around the store, picking multiple things up, asking you if you like them before throwing them in the shopping cart. It doesn’t matter whether you need them or not, just if you like it. That’s good enough for Bun. He’s so happy and energetic, his smile wide and eyes sparkling until you bend over into a freezer to pick up some ice cream. When you turn back, Jungkook is clinging to the cart, his eyes wide and entire body stock-still. All but his foot as it wildly pounds the ground.

“You okay, Bun?” you ask with a tilt of your head. His mouth drops open into a shape as round as his eyes. Mimicking you, Jungkook tilts his head before blinking and shaking it. And then he coughs, practically vibrates, before muttering something about cereal and running off in the opposite direction of the cereal. 

Ever since that peculiar day, Jungkook has insisted on going grocery shopping alone. Something about getting out of the house and becoming more independent. But he blushes and averts his eyes as he says it, foot tapping wildly until he kicks over a plant pot. He cleans up the mess without another word, chewing on one of its stricken leaves and purposefully avoiding your eyes for the rest of the day.

Your weekends become different too. Before Bun arrived, you’d spent them relaxing after your work week, alone and in peace. Now you have a tiny, demanding rabbit that follows you around your apartment, tripping you up. And now you also have a fully grown, demanding man. A roommate - for lack of a better word - with which to do things. Now you have Saturday walks in the park and Sunday brunches. Imagine that.

 Jungkook is incredibly physical. Forever moving, rarely still, bouncing from foot to foot, wiggling when excited. When you praise him, he claps and dances. The day you get a promotion at work, he hugs you so tightly, lifting you up and spinning you in the air because he’s simply that happy. He binkies about in excitement just as much as he did in bunny form, long hair and floppy ears bouncing wildly as his eyes crinkle in happiness, sending things flying in his excitement. You’ve already replaced one particular lamp three times.

But then Jungkook starts marking his territory in human form, too.

You’re chopping something for dinner on some nondescript day when Jungkook approaches you from behind, hands sliding gently over your hips. You could shake him off easily if you wanted to. But you find yourself not wanting to. His chin rests on your shoulder as though he’s just watching you work, but then the subtle rub starts. Across your shoulder and into the crook of your neck, until an involuntary shudder runs down your spine. It snaps Jungkook back to his senses and he pulls away.

—-

The day everything changed was the day from hell. Work had been awful, just one fuck up after another. None of which were even your fault, but all of which you were expected to fix.

You come home to a tidy apartment, subtle scented candles burning and soft music playing. Jungkook is in the kitchen cooking, and you’re sure the ingredients you can smell are ones he’s shopped for today.

“Welcome home.” He smiles over his shoulder at you. “Dinner is almost done if you want to get washed up.” He turns back to stir the pan on the stove. When you walked through the front door you were on the verge of tears. Now your eyes are misting up for the complete opposite reason.

You drag your sorry ass over to him and practically collapse against his wide, strong back, wrapping your arms around his tiny waist like he often does you.

“Thank you,” you practically sob into his shirt, screwing your eyes closed in an effort to not actually cry. You try to keep the emotion out of your voice but Jungkook knows you well enough to sense you’re upset by something. He immediately switches off the stove burners and turns to wrap his arms tightly around you, holding you without a second thought.

 “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks, voice full of concern. Large, strong hands brush the hair back from your face.

 “I just had a really shit day, and you just—” You turn, arms flailing, motioning to the clean apartment and dinner on the stove. Jungkook nods in understanding. “—you made it all better.” His eyes go round as he blinks at you in shock, before melting into something warm. He tucks your hair behind your ears and tilts your head as he moves in, as though he were going to kiss you. Your eyes flutter closed as his nose brushes yours, but his lips never touch yours. “What’s this?” you ask in a whisper, blinking your eyes open to find him smiling at you softly.

 “A rabbit thing,” he says simply, resting his forehead against yours with a soft grunt of air. It doesn’t quite reach a growl. You know it's a rabbit thing; you researched. But you didn’t expect it in human form.

 “Okay.” You don’t push, don’t demand an explanation for a deeper meaning, just accept the affection from him. You lean in and brush your nose against his in return, causing him to gasp and grunt again, hand moving from your face to your waist. It lingers there for a few seconds before Jungkook gently, physically, pushes you away, his large eyes looking bigger than usual. His pupils are blown out, almost entirely black. Breath comes from his parted lips in short pants and huffs.

 “You should get cleaned up while I finish dinner,” he says softly, stepping backwards. There’s an arm’s length of space between you now. You nod at him, hands finding his, giving him a squeeze as you back out of the kitchen. You don’t let go until the space between you is too far for your fingertips to touch. His eyes don’t leave you until you’re completely out of sight.

 You close the door quietly, leaning your forehead against it and taking slow, deep, grounding breaths, trying to calm the racing of your heart. What was that? Sure, it isn’t the first time he’s done it; he did it on the night he transformed and kissed you. Somehow, though, it felt as intimate as him kissing you again. Is it wrong to feel this way towards Jungkook? He’s your Bun, your charge; you’re his caretaker. Are you taking advantage of him? Is he only acting like this because he’s thankful to you for taking care of him?

 You push off and away from the door, feeling heavy. It’s almost like there’s a rope connecting you to Jungkook and forever pulling you towards him. You change out of your work clothes into something more comfortable. If that more comfortable thing happens to be something just a little clingy in certain, flattering places, and it makes you feel pretty, then you tell yourself you need the ego boost after the day you had. It has absolutely nothing to do with wanting to look good for Jungkook. You head to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your hair into something more relaxed before returning to the kitchen. And Jungkook.

 “Nope!” Jungkook yells, stopping you before you can even enter the kitchen, two strong hands taking you by the shoulders, turning you around and practically marching you towards the living room. You pout over your shoulder at him, but he’s just grinning and laughing at your pouty face. You slump onto the sofa and he leans over the back of it, hovering over you, his eyes crinkling as he laughs musically. Ever so carefully he takes you by the jaw, rubbing his chin over your head, tilting you to the side so he can whisper in your ear.

 “Sit and relax, I’ll bring you dinner.” His voice is light and full of joy.

 You sit and pout, grabbing the remote to put some music on. At the exact moment you drop it back to the table, a bowl of food is placed in front of you. You blink up at a grinning Jungkook as he retreats eagerly to the kitchen, presumably for drinks. His enthusiasm is infectious. You pick up the bowl of pasta, twirling your fork in the creamy sauce and noodles, and take a big bite. It’s delicious. Delicious enough to have you moaning with pleasure and sliding back against the couch.

 “Kookie, this is amazing!” you groan, licking the sauce from your lips.

 Jungkook stares at you, eyes wide, focused on your tongue as it slides along your lips. You hadn’t even realised he’d come back from the kitchen. He places a glass of wine on the table in front of you, ducking his head and hiding behind his ears as he shuffles to his spot on the sofa, bowl in hand. You watch him slyly out of the corner of your eye. His face is so red, so glowing you can almost feel the heat radiating from it. “I made it,” he says, still staring intently at his food. “I found a recipe online I thought you would like.”

 “From scratch?” you ask, amazed. He nods, biting his lip and refusing to look at you. You reach across the space between you and thread your fingers into his soft, wavy locks, rubbing the spot just behind one of his floppy ears. “Bun this is amazing, it tastes amazing!” His head lifts up, eyes so big they sparkle in the low light. “You’re amazing,” you whisper in a soft voice. Jungkook ducks his head again, hiding once more behind his long ears and curly hair. He eats his food slowly, more picking at it than anything. You, on the other hand, tuck in enthusiastically, all manners and grace gone, letting him see and hear your enjoyment of the food. You know how much it pleases him when you unabashedly enjoy his cooking. When you ask for seconds, handing him your empty bowl, Jungkook binkies across the room to the kitchen, bouncing on his heels as he piles a second serving of noodles and sauce into your bowl.

 He hands it back to you soon after and sits beside you on the sofa, knees curling under himself. Reclining on the back cushions, he observes you as you eat, arms crossed and eyes sparkling. When you’re half way through your second serving and can’t eat a bite more, he whisks away the dishes and returns quickly to your side. 

 Jungkook flops over and places his head in your lap. “Will you…” He bites his lip, turning to bury his face in your sweater, his cheeks burning crimson again.

 “What? What do you want, Kookie?” you ask, carding your fingers through his hair and rubbing a thumb over the gentle fur of his ear. It twitches repeatedly.

 “Just this. Will you play with my hair? Stroke my ears?” he asks in a small voice. It’s unusually meek for him in his human form.

 “Of course I will, Bun. Anything you want.” You smile, running your fingers through his hair, nails trailing down his scalp. His leg kicks out, narrowly missing the coffee table. You hand him the remote. “Pick something to watch.”

Jungkook shuffles, turning to face the TV. With his head still in your lap, he curls up into a ball, enjoying your ministrations. You continue to pet him, running your fingers through his hair and stroking his ears, twirling locks of hair around your finger before releasing the resulting curl. You lounge there together, the stress of the day bleeding away from you thanks to a stomach full of good food and your hand tangled in the hair of—Jungkook—whatever he was to you right now.

You don’t know exactly when you fall asleep, but you wake to strong arms holding you, carrying you to your room. Jungkook places you delicately on your bed and you fling yourself backwards, curling up to drift off again. But before long you’re being shaken gently awake and sat back up. Soft, cotton pajamas are pushed into your hands.

“You need to get changed,” a soft, deep voice says firmly in your ear. A warm body presses against your back.

You pout, eyes resolutely closed, but begin taking off your sweater. Large hands help you when you get tangled on your arms. It’s even more of a struggle to unhook your bra. You flail for a while before dropping your arms and slumping back against Jungkook with a tired, pathetic whine. If you were properly awake you might have noticed how his breath hissed through his teeth, or how his nose rubbed your temple. 

With more force than is probably necessary, Jungkook grips you by the shoulder and props you forward. Then, with just one finger, he pulls your bra band away from your back, taking all care not to touch you at all. By some black magic he manages to unhook it, sliding the straps down and off your arms before discarding it on the floor. Not once does he look over your shoulder. He pulls the camisole of your pajama set over your head, guiding your arms through the straps before you wake enough to take over and pull both arms through.

“Now the shorts,” he grunts, low and gruff. It’s unusual enough that you pout at him over your shoulder.

“Bossy bunny,” you mumble, standing and kicking off the comfy leggings you had on. Somewhere in the back of your head you register a soft ‘”shit’” that you’re too tired to acknowledge. You pull on your shorts and sit back down, immediately flopping to your pillow. You feel your body being turned, tucked beneath the sheet pulled over you. Sleep comes easily to you after that.

—-

You wake up while it’s still dark outside. Jungkook’s chest is hot against your back, his knees curled and tucked behind yours. A muscled arm hangs heavily over your waist, keeping you close to him. You lift it as carefully as possible and slide out of bed, tip-toeing stealthily across the soft carpet and out of the room. You head to the kitchen and grab a glass in the dark, in search of a drink for your parched throat.

You drink your fill and shuffle back to bed, bringing a glass with you just in case. Although you slip into your room as stealthily as you’d left it, Jungkook is awake when you return. He sits with his arms wrapped around his knees, bottom lip snagged beneath his prominent front teeth.

“Kookie?” you ask softly in the darkness, making your way back to your side of the bed. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I just—I reached for you and you were gone,” he says, watching you place your glass of water down and climb back into bed. “I was waiting for you to come back.”

“Silly rabbit,” you coo. Jungkook rolls towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tangling a powerful, muscular leg with yours. You settle back, stroking his head and mulling over his unusual clinginess as sleep comes to claim you. 

But then you feel a pressure against your thigh, and you’re suddenly very awake. 

Jungkook undulates his hips to a subtle rhythm. “Wha-” you begin, turning to look at him. But he buries his nose beneath your jaw, his breath coming out in soft,  heavy huffs in time with his movements. He grinds against your hip with a desperation. You swallow audibly, forcing yourself to ask as your face burns. “Jungkook, what are you doing?”

“Sorry,” he whines. “I can’t help it, I just—” He throws his thigh over your hips, shifting until he’s hovering over you, weight on his knees and forearms. His hips drop to roll against your stomach, a thick bulge straining the thin material of the pajama bottoms you had bought him. Jungkook ruts against your sweat-covered skin as you stare up at him, eyes wide, frozen in shock. Heat floods through you, stirring your insides until you’re panting. He is, too. His mouth hangs open as he huffs in time with his thrusts, lips grazing your jaw until they reach your mouth. He caresses it softly with his own, barely a whisper of a touch. Once. Twice. Just like that first night he turned. The third time, he kisses you. Your eyes flutter closed and you kiss him back. Nothing more than a delicate tilt of your head and a careful brushing of your lips against his. This is wrong, a voice in the back of your head whispers. This man is practically a stranger.

Only he’s not.

He’s shared your bed as a human for the past two weeks, and ten weeks before that as a rabbit.

You’ve spent evenings curled up together, watching shows you both enjoy. You know his moods, as he knows yours. Your hand feels as comfortable tangled in his hair as it does amongst his fur, and you can read his eyes in both forms exactly the same.

He’s your Jungkook. Your Kookie. 

Your Bun.

He exhales heavily, his tongue lapping at your lips for more. Warm breath fans your face and you practically tremble with anticipation. Jungkook tears himself away to run his hands down the curves of your body, and as you look up at him, your mouth dries at the sight of his godly form. The ever-present glow of the city creates a subtle neon halo behind him, heightening his otherworldly, divine presence.

“I-I—“ As suddenly as he came onto you, Jungkook scrambles backwards off the bed, falling ungracefully to the floor. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry!” he yells, eyes watery and wide with terror. He rushes out of the room so quickly he doesn’t even stand up straight. Just heads straight for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You follow too late, reaching your bedroom doorway just in time to hear the bathroom lock snap into place.

You drop to your knees outside the bathroom door, knocking on it gently. “Jungkookie, what’s wrong? Please, come out,” you call.

“I can’t,” comes a whine from the other side of the door. It almost sounds like a sob. “I have to stay here. Can I have a blanket please?” The voice is strained and tight; unsure. It’s not like the warm, bright voice you’ve come to know at all.

“Okay,” you agree. “I’ll get that for you. I’ll be right back.” When you return with the requested blanket, you let Kookie know with a small knock on the door. He cracks it open just enough for you to push the bedding through. In doing so, you catch a glimpse of his eyes. They’re wide and a little teary, his pupils huge. His face and upper chest is worryingly flushed. Jungkook notices you scrutinising his appearance and slams the door shut before you can comment. You hover on the other side of the door, not wanting to leave him. “I’m not upset with you, Bun. I understand if you want some space. Good night.”

You shuffle your way back to bed, curling up under the duvet for the first time in weeks. Because despite the heat and humidity of summer, it feels far, far too cold.

—-

The fullness of your bladder wakes you, demanding you seek relief immediately. You can tell by the noise outside that it’s late morning, and you hope Jungkook is already awake. You roll out of bed and shuffle over to the bathroom, trying the handle and finding it still locked.

With a reluctant sigh, you knock. “Jungkookie? Bun, I need to pee. Can you let me in please?” A few moments later there’s shuffling behind the door and the soft click of a lock opening. A sunken-eyed Jungkook stands on the other side, eyes averted. The duvet you gave him wraps him like a shroud. It hangs over his head, hiding his ears, his hands clutching it tightly at his chest. He stares pointedly at his feet as he shuffles past you, and if it weren’t for your desperate need to pee you’d stop and talk to him. But that’s a conversation that can wait until you’ve made breakfast.

You finish in the bathroom as fast as possible and make your way to the kitchen, noticing how he sits curled up on the chair in the corner of your living room.

You pull out all the things you need to make pancakes and crank up the volume on an upbeat playlist; mostly songs Jungkook likes listening to in the mornings. “Jungkook, could you help me please?” you ask sweetly. “The strawberries and bananas need slicing.”

He perks up at that, ears twitching before his eyes dart over to you. He loves bananas, almost obsessively loves them. I knew that would work, you smile to yourself. Jungkook fiddles with the waistband of his pajamas and you try to forget the outline of his hardness straining against them. Try to forget how your skin flushed when he rocked it against you. You focus back on the batter, giving it an extra hard stir, making sure there’s no lumps in it. That’s the reason for you beating it so vigorously. No other reason.

You sigh, pinching yourself before switching on the burner on the stove.

Jungkook begins chopping fruit. Yes. You smile to yourself, watching him out of the corner of your eye as you work on two stacks of pancakes. The tension in the air between you two eases, and soon you’re both dancing to a song that Jungkook listens to often; its easy choreography something you developed together. The song changes into something new, something you’ve never heard before, but you sway your hips nevertheless as you ladle batter into the hot frying pan. Jungkook bounces from foot-to-foot, endlessly energetic as he works his way through half a bunch of bananas and the entire bowl of strawberries. He’s piling the chopped fruit up on plates when you push between him and the counter with a small, murmured excuse me. The step he takes back to allow you access isn’t quite big enough. Even then you don’t notice; so used to squeezing around one another in the modestly-sized kitchen as you are.

 Jungkook, however, notices.

Your ass slides firmly against him and he grips your hips almost painfully hard, pressing you into the counter.

“Ow! Jungkook, what are you—” Your question becomes a squeal of surprise when he buries his nose behind your ear and grinds his rapidly hardening cock into the cleft of your ass. Only two, flimsy layers of clothing separate you. 

“I need you so bad,” he growls as he rubs his nose through your hair, the underside of his chin skimming the column of your neck. You arch back into him, throwing your head back to expose more of your neck to him. You’re usually a lot more reserved with men—a lot—but something about Jungkook makes you want to be wild. Maybe it’s the way you feel so safe with him. His body is a solid presence against your back, his thrusting desperate and needy. Gone is the sweet, delicate Bun you’ve come to care about. He’s been replaced with someone who grips you, growls at you, and yet you still feel safe in his arms.

It’s Jungkook. He’d never hurt you.

You groan, something between a whine and a whimper being ripped from the back of your throat as he rubs himself against you. Then, suddenly - unwelcomely - cold air hits your back. 

Jungkook has torn himself from you for a second time. 

You turn but he’s not behind you. Spinning in place, you see a fluffy tail vanishing around a cabinet and a pair of light grey pajamas left in its wake. You follow fast enough to watch him hightail it out of the kitchen and across the living room, straight under the chair in the corner. He never sits in it as a human, preferring to sit next to you on the sofa, but it’s his favourite place to hide as a bunny.

You crouch, peeking under the chair, trying to coax him out.

“I’m sorry, Jungkookie. Come out and talk to me, please?” you beg to the huddled mass of fur under the chair. He stays where he is, shifting in a way you know means he’s settling in for the long haul. You stand up, running to turn off the stove before dashing to your bedroom and throwing on some clothes. After grabbing your bag, you check under the chair again. Jungkook is still there. “I’ll be right back, okay?” you tell him, before rushing out the door.

You all but run out of your apartment building, dodging people on the street as you head to the florist a block and a half away to get a custom bouquet made. It’s ugly as hell, but it’s not supposed to be for looking at. All of the flowers are suitable for rabbits to eat, and you get triple the ones you know Jungkook is particularly fond of.

You rush back to your apartment on a sliver of energy, taking extra care to preserve your gift, but the whole journey takes you less than twenty minutes. You discard your shoes and bag by the door and head straight for the chair, placing your peace offering on the floor before it.

“I have a gift for you,” you say, pulling a white hibiscus from the bouquet and presenting it to him. “Please come out and talk to me, Bun.” You watch as Jungkook hops forward, unable to resist the pull of his favourite flower. You untie the haphazard collection of flowers and lay them out on the decorative wrapping paper for him. It does the trick and draws him out from under the chair. You hold your hand out to him carefully, letting him come to you on his own terms. Jungkook devours a rosebud and hops forward, bumping your hand with his nose. You sigh, tension you didn’t know was building melting from your shoulders.

Somewhat placated, you head back to the kitchen. The pancakes are now cold but nothing that can’t be reheated. You store his breakfast in the fridge and slip a couple bits of banana onto the paper with the flowers. Jungkook leaps at them, devouring them with relish before following you into the kitchen and circling your chair as you eat your pancakes. He reaches up, nudging your foot to get your attention. And by attention, he wants more bananas.

Once you’re all done with breakfast, you move to the living room. There are several episodes of a TV show you and Jungkook have been watching together that you need to catch up on, and that’s your usual plan for the weekend. Jungkook, however, has other plans. He jumps into your lap, purposefully knocking the remote out of your hand. You tangle your fingers through his fur and feel him shudder under your touch.

“Do you want to tell me what's wrong now?” you ask softly, thumb rubbing soothing circles between his eyes. Beneath your hand, Jungkook transforms. He curls in on himself, doing his best to obscure his nudity, and buries his head in your stomach. You run a hand down his back and find his skin is clammy and feverish. “Oh my god, are you sick? Bun, you’re burning up!” you exclaim, panic injected into your tone.

“I’m going into heat. It’s why I keep—why I keep—” His voice is high-pitched and strained again.

“Why you keep rubbing against me?” you finish for him, raking your nails through his long locks. His ears and tail twitch and Jungkook whines. Nodding, he curls in on himself tighter. “You need a partner,” you say matter-of-factly, but he shakes his head in disagreement.

“No. I don’t need a partner...” he says simply, the implication left hanging. You move his ear carefully, brushing his hair from his face and cupping it with one hand. Your thumb strokes his cheekbone until his tightly-clenched eyes open.

 “Then, tell me what you want,” you whisper. His eyes narrow like he’s assessing you. Assessing the full implication of your words and trying to decide how to answer you.

 “Normally I’d mate with someone in a nest—” Jungkook starts before he’s racked by shudders. He buries his face in your stomach again and whines.

 “My bed,” you offer. “You can build a nest there if you need to.”

He shoots upward at your words, watching your face carefully. “But—” His eyes are wide, mouth agape as he draws the logical conclusion but not daring to hope. “--where will you sleep?” He asks as though he is scared of the answer.

 You carefully brush his hair back from his face, thumbing over a floppy ear. “I c-can—“ you stutter, before taking a deep breath. “I’ll figure something out.” You lean forward, pressing your forehead to his. Your lips are so close like this, close enough to brush against each other as you speak. It’s not quite a kiss, but your intention is clear. “If you need anything—if you want anything...” You trail off. 

 Jungkook wastes no time. He sits up and crawls into your lap, his bare, muscular thighs straddling yours as he kisses you deeply. His hands, no longer rough, cup your face delicately as though he can’t believe he’s been gifted something so precious. Even as his naked hips roll against your stomach.

 “Iwantyouwantyouwantyou. Need you,” he chants between kisses.

 And in an act of madness - or perhaps sanity - you give yourself to him completely.

Next Chapter

#Jungkook #Jeon Jungkook #Jungkook Fluff #Hybrid!Jungkook #Jungkook Smut #Jungkook x You #Jungkook x Reader #Bunny!Jungkook #Jungkook Fic #BTS #BTS Fic #MarginalMadness #commission #MM Summer Nights #Summer Nights #Hybrid!Koo in Heat #kookiebunny97 #mintyrae #skswriting

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Investigations (Part 7): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.6k

tw: NSFW is you squint

masterlist

song recommendation:

You try your best to shuffle around the kitchen surreptitiously, clicking the espresso pod into the machine with a soft 'snap'.

The machine begins its duty, whirring to life before the liquid is deposited into the cup below.

Success.

Your fingers wrap around the mug and take it to the counter, where you've already prepared your milk and syrup for a quick and easy cup of coffee.

Lately, you've had to sneak and make coffee (all futile attempts ruined by Kai or Ran), but you consider today full of promise. You'd gotten the formula down so far.

"I thought I said no coffee."

Your hands hover over the cup, the steam caressing your fingers like a warm invitation. Your eyes don't move to look at Ran, but they do watch his fingers snatch the cup away from you - full of warm milk and espresso.

"Y/n, it's not good for the baby."

"Okay, but..." Your feet carry you to the sink, where Ran is pouring the concoction down the drain. "Just a taste?"

"No."

"A sip?"

"No."

"I'll make it and just stick my tongue in it once."

"No."

Ran stands firm on his opinions at all times. Especially now. Arms cross over your chest and you huff, turning away from him.

"So strict." Ran fingers slide down your neck, resting around your full hips.

"It's not just about you," he begins, kissing the space between your neck and shoulder. "I'm looking out for our child, too. You know that."

"I do," you groan.

"Now, we have a baby shower to host. Let's get ready."

_____________________________________________________________

"We thought you were gone forever!" The three women come around you and huddle close, cooing, and crying, spewing lamentations and satisfied praises that you've returned.

Sanzu - out of the kindness of his heart - planned the baby shower, and you're at his house, eating cake with your friends and consuming hors d'oeuvres. But when you find a free moment, you corner Ran in the kitchen.

"Did you tell the others?"

"Tell them what?" Ran tilts his head at you and leans onto the counter, frowning. Your face smoothes out into an expression of disappointment, and you sigh.

Of course, he hadn't.

It's still your job to carry this terrible secret. It's still your job to bury your deepest, darkest knowing, all while the other girls are parading about like their husbands aren't killers and extortionists.

"Hey, y/n! It's time to open the presents!"

_____________________________________________________________

The water surrounding your figure is warm, full of bubbles and Epsom salt, as well as a little bath bomb that Ran bought - well, he bought sixteen, but that's beside the point.

"Feeling okay? Is it too hot?" You look over to the man sitting on the toilet seat, his elbows resting on his knees as he observes you pour water over your belly.

"It's fine," you murmur, blinking slowly. "Feels good."

"Want to turn on the jets or--"

"I want to join Bonten." Ran's face drops, his violet eyes clouding with confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me." You stare at him, fully intent on getting your desired response. "I want to be a part of what you do."

"Babe, no." Ran leans his head forward, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"You haven't even listened to me," you whisper, looking down at the ten toes poking out of the water. "You always do this. You tell me 'no' because that's the way you want things. I can't even drink coffee without your permission."

"Listen, I'll let you do whatever you want, but Bonten is out of the question. You're pregnant --"

"Then I can wait until I have the baby."

"Even after that, I'm going to say no. This is a dangerous business." He emphasizes his words with a shake of his head, pressing his lips together.

"You act like I wasn't an investigative journalist for ten years."

"This shit could get you killed, y/n."

"Yes," you begin. "But you do it every day. I want to be a part of it."

"Why?" Ran finally asks, and your lips curl into a smile.

"I know things you don't know. The media follows you very closely, and you need a good image if you ever run into a problem with... say, law enforcement. What better way to prove that this is a harmless organization than hiring a woman - your wife?" Ran quirks his lips, looking at the door of the bathroom with consideration.

"Is there any particular skill you'll avail to us other than just public relations? I mean, I could get someone to do that who isn't my wife."

"I have connections that will divert attention away from Bonten, if necessary." You think of the little group you and the other wives have created, and send a mental apology their way. "You can use me to get the word out about any other suspicious groups who might be involved. Aid and abet, like a good wife."

Ran stands from the toilet, sighing deeply. "I'll ask Mikey. But don't expect me to attempt to sway him with my loyalty. If anything, I'll ask him to really think about it before he makes a choice."

"That's all I want," you breathe, taking Ran's hand and pressing your lips against the back of it. "You're too good to me."

"Don't thank me yet, sweetheart."

_____________________________________________________________

Convincing Ran to part with his old-fashioned ways is something you're very skilled at. All you need to do is get on your knees... and be as sweet as you can be.

"Babe," you mutter, sucking Ran's thick cock from the side. "You're such a good husband."

"Buttering me up for Mikey, huh?" Fingers cup the back of your head and push you down slightly. "Why am I not surprised?"

And every single time, Ran sees straight through your little act. But he enjoys it nonetheless. He loves seeing you like this - giving him the attention he missed so much while you were gone.

"Because you know me so well. And that's why you married me."

That's why you married me. Ran's eyes close as he re-imagines himself the first time he decided to visit you, hands full of shit he didn't have to buy, and eyes full of stars at the sight of you answering the door in a tank top and shorts with a cast on your leg. That's when he knew that he wanted to marry you. Not because you're good at anything in particular, but because you were so ordinary... So normal. He needed someone like you then, and he needs you now.

"Stop."

"Am I doing something wrong?" you murmur, but Ran shakes his head, strands of his black and white hair flopping back and forth.

"You're perfect," he whispers. "You're always so perfect." He brings you off your knees and face to face with him, holding you by the arms. "Let me make love to you. I'll do the work," Ran promises. "You just enjoy yourself."

"But--"

"I've already told you what I'm going to do. Just let me give you what you deserve." Ran angles forward, leaning into a gentle kiss that makes your knees weak and your head spin.

Ran spoons you from behind on the bed, holding your leg up and sliding in and out of you with care. The other arm is holding you against him - wrapped around your chest - as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

"I love the way you moan my name," he breathes. "You always know how to make me feel like the only man in the world."

"You are," you reply honestly. "You're the only man for me."

_____________________________________________________________

"Why do you want to join Bonten?"

The dead eyes of the man across from you are unyielding, and part of you feels nervous that he's staring at you so intensely.

"I want to help you all out. I want to make sure that not only do my children have something to rely on when they grow up, but that my husband is taken care of in all ways."

"Your children and your husband?" You think of Ran, who is just outside of the door, probably pacing with his hands in his pockets. "Your husband just spent three hours arguing with me."

"About?"

"You." The man stands, and Sanzu looks over at him with blank eyes. He wants to chime in, but he can't say anything right now. Not when Mikey was supposed to handle this himself. "Your presence here will be controversial. Especially since you're... in the state you're in."

"Pregnancy isn't a fatal disease."

"No, but being in Bonten could be fatal. And I don't know if both ran and I would be willing to accept the consequences of two deaths on our hand."

"But--" Sanzu raises a finger to his lips, warning you to be quiet.

"However," the man murmurs, rolling his neck around. "Sanzu, Rindou, and Kakucho have vouched for you and your connections." Your shoulders slacken, and you lean back in the chair, somewhat relieved. "I will put it to an anonymous vote in thirty-six hours. Whatever the outcome is, we'll both accept it."

A blind vote.

Thirty-six hours.

"Thank you, sir." You stand and bow slightly, hands clasped together. When you leave the room, Ran is waiting for you in the hallway, eyes wide.

"Well?"

"It'll be put to an anonymous vote in thirty-six hours. Whatever happens, happens."

Ran's face is anything but pleased as you drive home, but you don't worry about that too much. You have one and a half days to wait for the results, and you'd make the best of it either way.

#ran haitani x reader #ran haitani smut #ran haitani #tokyorev smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #Spotify

[yungidreamer]

Day One

I’m not really back but I needed a distraction today so I wrote a little oneshot something. I’m posting this unedited so sorry for any typos or mistakes.

Summary: Yunho has fallen in love with his best friend and a Valentine’s Day together goes from angst to passion with a single heartfelt question.

Wordcount: 5.7k

Content warnings: angsty miscommunications, a little bit of strong language, communication that borders on consent porn (lol), making out, dry humping, protected penetrative sex (M,F). Happy ending.

“Oh hey,” Yunho greeted as he poked his head out through his front door. “You made it! Come on inside. I’m just finishing a few things up.”

“Am I too early?” Her eyes flicked to her watch to check how early she was. “I can always go buy some snacks and come back or something?”

“No, no, no, no,” he rushed to assure her, putting his large hand on her shoulder. “I’ve got all that covered. Come in, come in.” With a nod she stepped in through the door and into the apartment. Slipping off her shoes in the small well near the doorway, she made her way into the very familiar apartment. Two years of friendship meant she had spent hours and hours here studying, eating, and just hanging out. It was familiar and comfortable, almost a second home. He came to her place too, of course, it just depended on the day. It didn’t really matter, neither of them cared. It was all about whatever worked for both of them.

Today it was his place and almost an ordinary day. Almost.

“Why don’t you take a seat,” Yunho gestured at the old fluffy couch that sat across from the television in the living room. “You want a drink?”

“Uh maybe some tea?” She said as she flopped onto the couch. “It’s really cold out there.”

“Yeah, the weather has really been something, hasn’t it?” He chuckled as he walked into the kitchen, raising his voice as he walked to make sure she could still hear him. “I probably should have been a gentleman and come to you, especially given the day.”

“Since when has that been a thing between us?” She laughed.

“Hey,” he protested as he flipped the switch on the kettle. “I’m always a gentleman.”

“You’re a good guy and you’re a friend,” she admitted. “But it's never been like that between us.” Even if I wanted it to be, she finished in her head.

“Well no,” he shifted uncomfortably on his feet in the doorway. “But what kind of friend makes you trudge across town in the snow just for a movie and to hang out.”

“What, did you want to cancel it?” She questioned, a twinge of pain tweaking in her chest.

“And leave you with nothing to do on valentines day?” Yunho scoffed. “No, I should have come to you.”

“How is that better?” She rolled her eyes and looked away towards the TV to start flipping through Netflix to find the movie they were going to watch.

“Then I’d be the one out there trudging through the snow getting cold,” he pouted slightly at her before heading to the freshly boiled kettle. “It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she shrugged, speaking loudly enough for him to hear her over the slosh of the water into the mug. “I’m just as capable of making the trip as you are.”

“Can’t you ever just let me do the nice thing for you just because?” He huffed tiredly as he strode out with the steaming mug in hand.

“I mean yeah,” she shrugged and took it from him, not meeting his eyes. “But we aren’t like that. I can come to you just as easily as you can come to me. You don’t have to coddle me or something.”

“Sometimes it's just nice to be nice, bub,” he said over his shoulder as he went back to the kitchen to finish throwing the snacks into something. With a sigh he pulled out the two large bowls they always used for snacks and grabbed the large bag of chips from the counter. Why does she always have to make it so hard for me to do nice things for her, he asked himself. Every single time he tried to do something sweet, to show her that maybe he could be something more than just a friend, she did this. She became as prickly as a hedgehog and half the time wouldn’t even look at him. It was maddening.

This is probably it, he told himself, you’re friends and that’s it, just accept it. He sighed and gathered the snacks into his hands and headed back to the living room. There she was, sitting there, feet curled cutely under her as she held the warm mug with both hands, alternating between blowing on it and taking loud sips of the still hot drink. She was so...cute, it gave him a little flutter of butterflies in his gut that he had to mentally brush away as he set the bowls and platter down on the coffee table.

“So is this still what you want to watch?” She asked, the classic romcom pulled up on the screen.

“Well, seems right, what with what day it is and all,” he shrugged.

“Valentines Day,” she nodded. “As long as you’re sure.”

“What, you don’t?” He turned to face her, trying to read her reaction. “We don’t have to.”

“No it should be fun,” she put up a hand and waved away his offer. “You just aren’t a romance sort of guy. I don’t want you to watch something you don’t want to just because...I don’t know, because you think I want to or because of TrAdItIoN.”

She gave the last word a dramatic tone to emphasize it properly in the context.

“You say tradition like it’s a bad thing.” Yunho scoffed.

“Yeah, I mean usually it's why people do things they don’t really want to do, but they feel like they are supposed to,” she leaned her head back against the cushions behind her as she looked over at the tall boy beside her.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “But sometimes things become traditions because they are nice to do.”

“And romcoms on Valentine's Day is nice to do,” she smiled up at him with an understanding laugh.

“Yeah it is,” Yunho grinned back. “So let’s get on with tradition.” She gave him a nod and let him start the movie as she grabbed a couple of chips and settled her head lightly on his shoulder, where it often sat as they watched movies together. Yunho set the remote on the arm of the couch and lifted the arm she was leaning against, moving it to wrap around her shoulder and pull her against him and guiding her head to rest on his chest. She relaxed against him and let out a little sigh as the movie started. Yunho fixed his eyes on the TV, purposefully concentrating on the movie rather than the warm, soft curves of the woman tucked into his side.

She jerked awake, her head having lost it’s careful perch on his chest when she went slightly limp in her sleep. Cracking open her eyes, she lifted her head and started to straighten up, pushing the heel of her palm down to push herself back up. Yunho made a grunt beside her and it was in that moment that she noticed just where her hand had landed and what it was pressed against. That warm, thick lump under her palm was a very happy Yunho separated from her touch by a mere layer of jean fabric.

“Shit,” she cursed, jerking back as if it had suddenly grown as hot as a cast iron pan that had been sitting on a stove at full heat. Yunho’s hand that had not been resting on her waist as she rested against him, clenched against his thigh and he turned his eyes to the kitchen as he felt her pull away.

“Sorry… sorry… I didn’t… sorry…” she kept muttering as she scurried to stand up.

“It’s okay,” Yunho rushed to assure her. “You didn’t… you just fell asleep.”

“I think… maybe I should just go home for today,” she turned towards the door, rubbing her hot, pink cheeks. “I’m clearly really tired today. Maybe I’m getting sick or something…”

“Do you feel sick?” He stepped forward and reached out to try and test her forehead.

“I am feeling a little nauseous right now,” she admitted, dodging his touch.

Pausing, he looked at her as she knelt down and reached for her shoes. “Am I that gross?” He asked quietly, unable to keep the small pang of hurt from coloring his tone.

“What?” She froze, turning to blink up at him with owlish eyes.

“You accidentally touched me for two seconds and it makes you feel sick,” he rubbed the back of his neck and clenched his jaw in frustration. “How am I supposed to take that?”

“I didn’t-- it’s not that,” she sighed, letting herself fall into a slump and dropping the shoe she had been about to put on. “I’m embarrassed, okay?”

“You didn’t do anything you need to be embarrassed about,” he objected. “I like that you do that sometimes.”

“Do… do what?” She froze looking up at him.

“Fall asleep on me,” Yunho dug his socked toes into the carpet as he muttered his reply, barely loud enough to be heard. “I like that you feel comfortable with me; that you relax.”

“You didn’t invite me over for a nap,” she shook her head and grimaced at the memory of the part she wasn’t even willing to acknowledge out loud.

“I invited you over to spend some time with you,” he shrugged, hiding his hands in his pockets. “If you spend a little of that time napping next to me… I don’t mind. You’re still here with me.”

“That’s sweet,” she offered, reaching for her shoe again. “I just think… maybe another day would be better.”

“Please don’t go,” Yunho managed to squeeze out. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week. I’ve missed hanging out.”

“What if…” She sighed. “How about we meet for coffee or something tomorrow?” Something out of both of their places seemed safe enough, she silently settled on. They needed a reset in general. Things had been awkward lately and she was sure that if she wasn’t careful, she was one step away from doing something stupid that would really ruin everything between them.

“If you want,” he gave a little shrug, heart sinking in his chest.

“Or we can just take a little break instead,” she offered, finally managing to sink her heel into her boot. “I know things have been weird lately, so maybe that would just be for the best.”

“What did I do wrong,” he finally forced himself to ask. A big part of him didn’t want to ask; didn’t want to know. But she was slipping away already. If she went through the door today, he was almost positive it would be awhile before he saw her again.

“Nothing,” she shook her head, determinedly stuffing her other foot into her second shoe. “You didn’t do anything.” She grumbled, double knotting the lace of her shoe. “But you know that things have been a little weird as well as I do and I would rather take a few weeks apart than have things get to the point where we… aren’t friends at all.”

“Weeks?” He breathed in disbelief. “No, that’s it. Just stop.” Reaching down, he pulled her to stand facing him. “Talk to me. Tell me what I did. It must have been something. Please just give me a chance to fix it.”

“You didn’t do anything,” she shook her head, lowering her gaze.

“Please tell me,” he implored, a tightness in his chest holding his breath captive. Bringing his hands to her face, he held it facing his own, his eyes searching for some clue as to why she was slipping away. “Let me fix it.”

“You…” she started, feeling the prickle of tears filling her eyes. He looked so sad, but what was she supposed to say? She loved him so much, the very last thing she wanted to do was hurt him, but wasn’t a little pain now better than a goodbye? They were friends. Just friends. It had to be enough because she couldn’t imagine things without him. It was more important than that aching want he caused in her whenever she saw him and more important than whatever might have been.

“Let me…” He breathed, letting his gaze fall to her lips. For both of them, the moment froze, time stopped and stretched like an ocean of possibilities, a thousand chances with a thousand rewards and consequences down each path.

“Yunho,” his name fell from her lips, breaking the spell like it had been as inconsequential as the filament of a spider’s web.

“Can’t you just love me back?” He whispered, holding her cheeks, running the pads of his thumbs over her cheekbones.

“I love you so much more than you know,” she admitted, bringing her hands to cover the backs of his.

“Then don’t go,” he drew closer. “Stay with me.”

“For the movie?” She ventured, half joking, half wanting to pull away again, back to the comfortable pretending space where she didn’t really have to risk her heart or their friendship.

“Forget the movie,” he gave a watery chuckle. “Stay for me.”

“Okay,” she nodded after a second, no longer able to keep herself from leaning towards his tempting cupid's bow lips. Meeting in the middle, their lips touched and exhilaration and relief flooded both of them at the contact. He started moving backwards, wanting to take both of them away from the threat the door represented just behind her.

“Wait,” she panted, pulling back just a shade to get it out.

“What?” He asked, barely giving her space, moving his lips over to the corner of her mouth.

“Shoes,” she breathed, her fingers tightening on his wrists.

“Oh,” he nodded, dropping to his knees in front of her and immediately moving to pull them off without even bothering to untie them. He finally managed to pull them off, throwing them behind her before pulling her into his arms to take her back to the couch where all this had started, this time kissing her like a drowning man sucking in breath as he breaks the surface of water. Months of want and need flowed forth like a flood finally having broken through the last levy that had held it back.

When the front of the couch finally brushed the back of his thighs, he let himself fall backwards into the soft cushions, bringing her with him, her knees hooked around his hips. His hands moved to grip her hips, coaxing her to grind against his wanting body. She moaned against his lips, her hands moving to brush along his shoulders and neck. He filled her senses completely, from the salty sweetness of his lips, to the scent of his warm skin, to the huff and moan of his breath tickling her ears. He was heaven. He was that thing her whole being had been itching for, for months.

“Mmm,” he moaned, letting his tongue flick over her bottom lip. “Tell me that you want this, too. I need to know it's not just me.”

“It’s not just you,” she assured him, returning the motion and brushing the tip of her nose against his. “I’ve wanted this so long.”

“Why… why didn’t you say something?” He queried, letting his fingers move into the waistband of her pants. “We could have… we could have done this so long ago.”

“I thought it was just me,” she explained. “I didn’t want to ruin things between us. I’d rather have friend Yunho than nothing at all.”

“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” he laughed. “Even if I hadn’t spent the better part of the last year thinking of you every time I…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish the admission, a pink blush blooming on the tips of his ears and his cheeks. “I wouldn’t have let it come between us.”

“Why didn’t you say something then?” She turned the question around on him.

“Because everytime I tried to get a little closer to you, you bristled and ran away from me,” he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “How was I supposed to read that?”

“I’m sorry,” she leaned into him pressing a line of kisses along the side of his neck.

“Apology accepted,” he cleared his throat, leaning back to allow her better access. With one hand between her shoulder blades and the other tucked into the waistband of her jeans, he pressed her against him. “Just don’t stop.”

She let out an eager hmmm and gave the flesh just below his ear a gentle suck. Goosebumps prickled over his arms and he felt himself pulse with want. It was euphoric, his every fantasy coming true and everything was moving both too fast and too slow for his taste.

“There are too many clothes,” he grumbled, feeling her lips tease along the line of his collar. “I want to touch you.”

“I guess we could…” she paused, leaning her temple against his shoulder. “Do you want to move into your room?”

“Really?” He asked, pulling her up so he could look into her eyes.

“I mean the couch is okay too,” she was quick to nod.

“No I mean,” he pursed his lips and shifted a little under her. “We can just do this. I don’t want to rush anything.”

“I’m not promising that we’ll do everything tonight,” she began carefully. “But, if you want to, I think I’d like to see where this goes somewhere a little more comfortable.”

“Give me, like, five minutes,” he told her, sliding her off his lap and into the cushion beside him. “I just want to clean up a little.”

“Sure,” she nodded. “Maybe I can just go to the bathroom and wash my face and stuff while you pick up.”

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed happily, taking her by the hand as he stood up. Dropping her off in front of the bathroom door he walked over to the linen closet and pulled out a new set of sheets, then headed for his bedroom. If this was going to happen, he told himself, it was going to happen in clean sheets. Quickly stripping the bed, he threw the new sheets on the bed and picked up the few socks and little bits of whatever that happened to have been left on the floor over the past couple of days. Throwing away the trash, he gathered the old sheets and the laundry, taking it out to the washer, deciding he could start it later, but certainly had better things to do at the moment.

Since the bathroom door was still closed, he decided he had enough time to do just a few little things to set the mood. Candles, where did I leave those things, he wondered in his head as he poked his head into the living room and then into the hall closet. Ah-ha, he thought victoriously as he laid eyes on the little box of candles and glass holders. Grabbing them, he made his way back to his bedroom and put the little votives on every surface far enough away from something flammable he had.

Just as he lit the last candle, he heard the click of the bathroom door opening. He tossed the lighter into the nearest drawer and nervously tried to brush the wrinkles out of the front of his shirt. The gesture was more soothing than it was effective, but was cute to see nonetheless when she poked her head around the frame of the door to see him.

“Hi,” she said nervously. “Are you done?”

“Yeah,” Yunho nodded, straightening up. “Do you… do you still want to move in here?”

“Yeah,” she replied with a smile. “It looks nice.”

“Thanks,” he replied automatically more than anything else. “So… ummm…”

“Let’s start by getting a little more comfortable,” she suggested, taking a few steps into the room.

“Right, yes,” he nodded vigorously, coming to meet her. When they were standing just a few inches apart, she reached out, putting her hands on his forearms comfortingly.

“Do you mind if I help you out of these?” She asked as her fingers moved to the button on his jeans.

“Please,” Yunho had been feeling the pressure of the tight fabric against his erection for what felt like forever and would be glad to be free of it. His hands moved to help guide the jeans off his hips as she undid the button and slid the zipper down. He leaned down to kiss her as he stepped out of the stiff fabric as it slumped around his ankles. Her hands went to the fastenings of her own jeans, kicking them off as he nuzzled and licked at her lips.

“What about this next?” She suggested, tugging at his shirt gently. Without answering he pulled back and pulled it off over his head as quickly as he could manage, leaving him in his socks and boxers.

“What about yours?” He asked, a hopeful look in his eyes as his hand brushed over her sleeve.

“Yeah,” she brought her hands over her head, allowing him to pull it off and toss it on top of her jeans off to the side.

“Bed?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her hips and lifting her against his chest. She nodded and brought her lips to his as he took the couple of steps to the mattress. Letting her down gently, he let her crawl backwards to the head of the bed and stretch out with her head on the pillows before crawling after her. As he drew near, looming over her with his much larger body, she opened her thighs to allow him to lay in the cradle they created.

“Hey,” she chuckled, bringing her arms to wrap around his neck as he laid himself over her.

“Hi,” he replied with a shy laugh. “We still good?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, brushing his bangs off his forehead. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmmm?” His puppyish eyes looked into hers intently.

“Did you change the sheets?” she giggled, looking up into his overly serious expression.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Mmm, I thought so,” she nodded. “They don’t smell like you.”

“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” He questioned, holding himself up on his forearms to keep most of his weight off her.

“Both… neither?” She said indecisively. “Just come a little closer to me.” He leaned closer, bringing his lips to her as he allowed more of his weight to press into her. Letting out a contented sigh, she deepened the kiss as she let her hands wander over the broad expanse of his bare back.

Yunho let himself get lost in the soft sensations of her lips and her hands as he pressed himself close. She felt as good and as comforting as he had dreamed she would on all those lonely nights. His tongue slipped in past her lips and past her teeth to tangle with her own, dancing together in a mutual sweep of pleasurable sensation.

Time passed unobserved as they lazily explored each other, mouth to mouth, hands gently flitting over the skin they could find. When he finally pulled back, he rolled slightly off her, laying his head on the pillow beside hers. He nuzzled into her cheek, his eyes closing as he just took in her scent mixed with the freshness of the clean sheets.

“Do you want to stop for tonight?” She asked, running her hand over his arm where it curved around her waist.

“We can if you’d like,” he offered. “I just wanted to hold you for a while.”

“I actually,” she started to speak and he could actually feel the heat of her blush rise against his lips as he kissed her cheek. “I’m feeling a little needy. We don’t have to go all the way but I kind of want a little something more.”

“Okay,” he nodded, pulling himself up onto one elbow. “What do you need?”

“I kind of… I just need a little friction,” she explained, her face aflame as she did. “Maybe you can just lay back and I’ll take care of it… with you, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, show me what you like,” he nodded, eagerly shifting to lay on his back. Sitting up, she moved to straddle his hips, putting a knee to either side. Leaning forward, she propped herself up with a hand just above each of his shoulders. Unable to bring herself to look into his eyes at the moment, she closed her eyes and let her head droop slightly forward as she shifted her hips, looking for the right angle to get the friction she sought. Drawing in a deep breath through her nose, she tentatively slid herself along the ridge of his erection.

Yunho watched her face as she started to move, tantalized by the blissfully seeking expression on her face combined with the sensation of her grinding against him. He watched as her movements became more fluid and more sure, listening as her breathing became faster then hitched now and again as she hit something more pleasurable on her body. She was beautiful and tempting as she used his body to find some relief to the tension that knitted her brow.

“Does it feel good?” He asked, his hands helping her hips to press more harshly against him.

“Yeah,” she panted. “So good.”

“Is it better with me?” He questioned, wanting to know he was playing some part in that look on her face.

“So much better,” she agreed. “You make me feel so good.”

“Are you going to come all over me?” He prompted, bringing one hand up to her stomach to feel the muscles clench and quiver.

“Oh god, yes I think so,” she nodded, speeding up her grinding.

“Can you look in my eyes when you do, love,” he pressed, hearing that uneven puff that said she was getting close. Her movements faltered slightly, but she swallowed and managed to finally meet his gaze. Her eyes were hooded and hazy, and her pupils wide from a mix of the dim light of the candles and the pleasure coursing in her veins.

“So pretty,” he praised huskily. “Come for me, yeah?”

“Uh- uh-huh,” she nodded, her arms quivering and threatening to give out. With just a few more moves, she came apart over him. Her jaw went slack and her eyes squeezed shut as her body went rigid for a few seconds before a shiver worked its way through her body starting at her shoulders and reverberating down to her toes.

Weakness suffused her and her arms finally gave out. Collapsed against his chest, she huddled against him as she caught her breath. He murmured sweet nothings to her, soothing her with his voice as his hands stroked against her slightly tacky back. Want made his skin hurt but he savored this moment knowing it was a sort of first he would never have again. It was a fulfilment of a fantasy that had haunted him for months and part of him was afraid to poke at it, afraid it would burst like a bubble.

“Thank you,” she sighed, taking a deep breath that turned into a yawn.

“Are you up for a little more?” He tested, rubbing his chin gently against the top of her head. “I can take a few minutes to myself if you aren’t.”

“I can take a little more,” she nodded against his chest. “But I’m not feeling terribly coordinated at the moment.”

“It’s okay,” he chuffed, rolling them both over so that he was once again on top of her. “I think I can do the work this time.” Depositing her gently on the bed, he pulled back to look down at her nestled comfortably in his bed. She looked just right there, like she belonged there beside him. “Do you mind if I take the rest of the clothes off?”

“That’s fine,” she nodded. With a sigh, she propped herself up and reached behind her back to unhook her bra so he could remove it as he slid his boxers off and tossed them somewhere off the bed. Doing the same with her bra, he sat up on his heels and hooked his fingers in the band of her panties, pulling them gently down her legs and off. He knelt between her legs and looked down at her as she relaxed into the pile of pillows again. Her eyes skimmed over his face and down his body in that moment, taking in his strong, lean body.

“Oh my,” she breathed when her eyes finally lowered to his erection.

“What?” He asked as he moved to cover himself, slightly self conscious at the reaction.

“You’re just… big,” she replied after a second’s pause.

“I guess,” he admitted, blushing. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, reaching out in her desire to reassure him.

“Just one second,” he held up a finger then leaned over to open the drawer in his bedside table. After a little digging, he pulled out a small foil wrapper and tore it open.

“I’m on birth control,” she mentioned. “But better safe than sorry, right.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, rolling the latex down his length before reaching back into the drawer, this time pulling out a tube of clear lube. Taking a little on his fingers, he spread it between her already slick nether lips, just to be sure, before getting a little that he used on his latex covered length. Wiping his hand clean on a tissue, he finally lay down between her thighs, lining himself up with her core.

“You still want me?” He asked, running his hand up her side as he smiled down at her.

“Yes,” she nodded, wrapping her arms around his ribs as she relaxed beneath him.

“You’ve…” He paused, hips poised to thrust when it occurred to him to ask.

“Yeah, I’ve done this before,” she assured him, hugging his hips with her thighs, coaxing him to enter her.

“If it’s not good,” he said, slowly working himself into her body. “Just say something, promise?”

“I will,” she agreed. With each gentle thrust he went a little deeper, sinking himself into her moist heat inch by inch. Her body stretched satisfyingly around him, hugging his length with a sweet tension.

“Mmm, oh god,” he breathed as he reached the end of her body. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah, keep going,” she urged, her fingers gripping his shoulders as she moved impatiently. “You feel so good.”

He nodded and buried his head in the pillows near her head, letting his eyes close as he enjoyed the sensation of sliding in and out of her tight body. His body arched and curved against her as he found a slow and steady rhythm that had pleasure thrumming through him. It was even better than every late night fantasy that had flitted through his mind as he had imagined being with her. The only thing that would scratch that tickle of sexual frustration that had haunted him for months.

“Yunho,” she breathed his name against his collarbone, her lips ghosting over his skin as she spoke his name. He whispered hers back over and over, like a quiet mantra in the quiet of the room, otherwise filled with the creak of the bed and the rustle of the sheets amid the rhythmic pants of their breathing.

“Tell me I make you feel good,” he groaned, leaning close to feel her nipples abrade his chest as he moved against her.

“You feel like heaven,” she swore breathlessly.

“Mmmm,” he shuttered and his hips stuttered against her. “I’m not gonna last long. Can you come again? I want to feel you come around me.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, moving one hand to touch herself between them.

“Okay,” he closed his eyes and tried to think about something else, even as he felt himself getting close to that precipice. He couldn’t help but get drawn in by the feel of her hand moving against herself between them and he prayed she was as close as he was.

“Can you tell me I’m beautiful?” She asked shyly, her breath coming faster again.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her temple. “So fucking beautiful I can barely breath when I look at you.” She let out a muffled little groan and he felt the first flutter of her body around him. He let out a long string of praise for her as he thrust into her, her hand trembling as she chased that pleasure again. He moaned out praise for every inch of her and every feature, exhaustively listing every freckle, dimple, and curve he loved about her until he felt her body burst with pleasure, pulsingly gripping his length and driving him over the edge and robbed him of speech as he spilled himself inside her.

In the moments that followed they both slowly fell back to earth, coming back to themselves, limbs entwined in the dim, quiet room. With a quick apology he rolled his weight off her, pulling her along with him so that she was curled against his side as they caught their breath.

Slipping the condom off, he cleaned himself up with a tissue and tossed both into the nearby trash before turning to give the woman beside him an assessing look.

“Do you want to go clean up a little before we go to sleep?” He asked, running a finger gently over her arm.

“In another minute,” she gave a single, tired nod.

“Okay,” he agreed, rubbing her skin to warm in as the sweat they had developed cooled it. After a few beats he broke the silence with another question, “Ummm, does this count as our day one?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “Valentine’s Day, huh? I guess that will make it easy to remember, won’t it?”

“I’m not sure I’d say that was the memorable part,” he teased back. “Thank you for being mine.”

“Thank you for loving me back,” she said, craning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Happy day one.”

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my days with you,” he grinned, wrapping her tightly in his arms and breathing her in as he held her close.

Masterlist

#jeong yunho #Yunho #yunho scenarios #yunho smut #ateez smut #ateez #ateez fluff #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #kpop fluff #ateez angst #friends to lovers #one shot

[nomsugayoongi]

Off My Face.

Pairing: Jungkook X OC female (nameless)

Tags: fluff, slight angst, eventual smutty smut, softJK.

Disclaimer: So, I literally created a Tumblr to post this mess. There are already a bunch more parts written which I can post if wanted. Haven't written anything in ages so be nice and forgive my overwhelming JK softness. :p

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Who's that?" She asked, leaning against the wall next to Namjoon. He raised an eyebrow as he scanned the room, clearly confused. "Who?" He replied. "The purple haired dude that just walked in. Over there by the door. Black jacket." She muttered, squinting through the darkness. Namjoon chuckled and looked at her like she was crazy. "What do you mean? It's Jungkook." He said.

She gasped and squinted even harder. "Eh??" She squeaked. "That's not Jungkook. Look at the hair. It's...long, and there's way more tattoos there than Jungkook has and..." Her rebuttal died mid sentence as Mystery Purple Hair moved out of the shadows of the doorway and she saw him clearly. It was indeed Jungkook but he looked...different. She'd only been gone a couple of months but apparently that was all it took for Jungkook to transform himself. He looked...older. He appeared to have shed his "puppy" look and what was stood across the room from her was nothing but man. Hot man. Jungkook scanned the room, stopping to talk briefly to Jin before he caught sight of her. His face broke into its token bunny smile and he said something to Jin who nodded before he made his way across the room. "You're back!" He grinned. She gulped quickly, paying absolutely no attention to the nose dive her stomach was currently doing into her shoes as he approached her. "I'm back" she confirmed, returning his smile. He strode straight over, scooping her up into a bear hug. "How was England? Did you miss us? Are you happy to be back?" Jungkook asked, setting her back on the floor and pulling back. She nodded. "Massively. England was...England. Cold, wet, grey, joyless. But nevermind that, what happened to you? Someone leave you alone with a Sharpie?" She teased, pulling his right arm out by then wrist and turning it over to indicate his new ink. He chuckled. "I like them" he shrugged. She glanced up, catching his big brown eyes then gasped again. A silver bar now pierced his eyebrow. "And you've poked holes in your face. Was nobody watching the maknae while I was away?" She teased. Jungkook rolled his eyes and grinned. "Welcome home" he said, pulling her into another hug. She spent the evening catching up with her boys. Laughing riotously, eating great food, regluing herself to Suga's side and wondering why she ever felt the need to go back to England. If anything, the trip back to her country of origin had done nothing more than cement the fact that there was nothing there for her anymore. Her life was here. Her family was here. Her family was the people all gathered in this house. She felt utterly content and beyond happy to be back. However, there was a niggling little something that was putting a crimp on her perfect homecoming. She could not, for the life of her, pry her mind off Jungkook. And as the evening drew to a close and one by one, the guys started retreating to their rooms, the noise died down and her thoughts got louder. What had happened to him? What had happened to her that she couldn't focus on anything but him. He was just Jungkook. She'd known him years. He was one of her family. He meant the same to her as the others. But her mind was screaming and his name was the only thing it was saying. It was approaching 3am. Suga had passed out hours ago and was fast asleep sprawled along one side.of the corner sofa next to her. The room was in total darkness except for the flicker of light from the TV screen. Namjoon was half asleep on her other side. Hobi, Jin, and Jimin had gone to bed already. V was sat at a table opposite tucking into some Ramen with Jungkook. Both engrossed in their conversation and their noodles, she allowed herself to study him in the flickering light. His hair was considerably longer than when she last saw him and now coloured a deep purple, Contrasting strongly against his flawless skin and framing his face perfectly, then resting just above his shoulders. Her urge to run her fingers though it was making her hands restless and she fidgeted uncomfortably on the sofa. She swallowed hard, her eyes skipping over his features. Pretty brown eyes, newly pierced eyebrow which really suited him, cute nose, sensual, slightly pouty lips that broke into the most disarming smile, strong jawline, slender neck. She tried to swallow past her increasingly dry mouth as she became painfully aware of her heartbeat, thudding more and more erratically the longer she looked at him. She reprimanded herself silently, arguing in

her mind that this was ridiculous. He was Jungkook. It didn't matter that her stomach rolled uncomfortably every time he looked at her. It didn't matter that she wanted to trace every line of the dark ink that snaked his arm with her fingertips. It didn't matter that all she could think about was running her nose slowly along his jawline, inhaling the scent of his skin as she clenched his soft, long hair in her fingers. It didn't matter that there was nothing she wanted more than to disappear in him. Her nose brushing his, close enough to feel his warm breath between them, his lips parted, hers skimming gently along his, hot, heavy breath, the pressure of his soft lips yielding to hers, the taste of his tongue. His hands, strong, firm, sliding slowly down her back, hitching up her shirt to touch skin as he pulled her closer. Her eyes fluttered, her breath caught in her throat, stomach churning. What the hell? It was Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. This couldn't be happening. She snapped back into herself so suddenly she wondered if she'd actually fallen asleep. Her heart was racing. Tae and Jungkook were looking at her when her eyes finally focused on a solid object. "Bad dream?" Tae asked with an amused smile. "Did I fall asleep?" She muttered, genuinely confused. She kept her gaze locked firmly on Tae. She could see Jungkook out of the corner of her eye but was terrified that whatever had just happened to her was written all over her face. "Well you just jumped out of your skin so I figured you had." He replied. Her face was burning. She could practically still feel Jungkook, smell him, taste him. She needed to get out of here. She jumped up, causing Suga whose head had been resting against her knee to flop unceremoniously back onto the sofa, waking him with a start. "HUH? He yelped. "Erm....sorry Shugs" she muttered, ruffling her hair and trying to get her bearings while still carefully avoiding looking at Jungkook at all. "I need to go...pass out" she grumbled, heading straight for the stairs without looking back. She knew that exit was highly suspicious but once into the safety of her room, she didn't care. She leaned against the door, bracing it with her body as though she expected someone to try kick it in. The air was cool and refreshing thanks to the open window and she breathed steadily, trying to return her thumping heart to a regular rhythm. "Oh this is not good!" She whispered. --------------------------------------------------------------------- The following morning came far too quickly after a restless night. She just couldn't settle. Her stomach was in knots. What the hell had happened last night? What was that half awake fantasy business and why was it replaying in her mind like an iMax movie with full surround sound and smell-o-vision. She dreaded leaving the confines of her room for fear of running into him. Just the thought of seeing him made her stomach churn. "This is stupid!" She grumbled to herself, throwing her legs off the bed defiantly. "I will not be a prisoner in this god damn room for nothing. Last night was...a one off. Everything is fine. I will go downstairs, I will see Jungkook and he will just be Jungkook. No weird romance movie slideshow, no flutterings, thoughts or desires of any kind. Just...normal" Even she didn't really believe her whispered self pep talk but she feigned conviction anyway. She slid out of bed, pulled on ripped jeans and a hoodie and approached her bedroom door. With a deep breath, she reached for the handle and practically threw herself out of her room. Her determination was not only building by the second but she was also flooded with a sense of defiance. She jogged down the stairs, ready for the day ahead. Looking forward to hanging out with the boys and having a lazy day. She could hear the faint murmer of chatter as she approached the kitchen. Hobi was up for sure and maybe Namjoon. She strode into the kitchen with a bright smile. "Morning guys!" She was greeted with a chorus of responses and scanned the room. Hobi making coffee. Namjoon leaning on the

counter. Suga slumped at the kitchen table. Jimin and Tae chatting as they poured orange juice. No Jungkook. She ignored the wave of relief and made a beeline for Suga, ruffling his hair as he grumbled sleepily against the table top. "Morning Shugs" she grinned. Namjoon was looking at her quizically. "You seem...better today" he mused. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him as she squeezed passed Hobi for the coffee pot. "Better?" He nodded with a look of amusement. "You were...weird yesterday. Not yourself. You seemed...distracted." he said. She shrugged and shook her head. "Jetlag probably. I felt kind of out of it to be honest. Just needed to be home and sleep" she replied, nonchalantly. Namjoon wasn't buying it at all and she could tell by the look on his face but he nodded as though he accepted her reasoning. She stayed in the kitchen with the guys, filling them in on her trip back to England and what had happened during the 3 months away. She got so caught up in it that she didn't think about Jungkook at all. That was, until he came down. She was halfway through her bowl of cereal when he padded into the kitchen. Barefoot in black shorts and an oversized white t shirt showing off his tattoos. His long hair deliciously tousled. He was still sleepy eyed but he looked warm and...inviting. She dropped her spoon, clattering loudly against the table making everyone turn and look at her. "Whoops. Butter fingers" she mumbled sheepisly. Everyone carried on with what they were doing apart from Namjoon who was looking from her to Jungkook with a smirk. "Jetlag come back?" He teased. She could feel the heat rising to her face and hoped to every deity under the sun that she wasn't blushing. "Never dropped anything before?" She questioned. He shrugged and chuckled playfully. His gaze was casual but she felt like he could see every thought in her head. She pushed her half eaten cereal bowl away from her and leaned back in her chair. She was trying to look casual but had an inkling that she was failing miserably. Suddenly Jungkook was right behind her, leaning over the back of her chair to reach for her unfinished cereal. His hair tickled the side of her face and the faint fruity smell she associated with him flooded over her. Her breath caught sharply. Her heart kicking into double time. It lasted literally seconds but it seemed like an age before he straightened up with his stolen breakfast. He flashed her a bunny smile and wandered over to the fridge to grab milk. She realised she'd been holding her breath the entire time and let out a quiet huff. Namjoon's smirk had turned into a full blown grin. Flustered, she stood from the table and exited the kitchen. Maybe she'd find some solace in the lounge. She flopped wearily onto the sofa, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. Damn. It didn't make any sense. How in the hell had Jungkook turned from bunny to honey overnight. A few more tattoos, an eyebrow piercing and slightly longer hair didn't change him that dramatically. He was still the exact same Jungkook she'd known for years. But...he wasn't. He was hot. Like...painfully, sinfully, stomach clenchingly hot. Had he always been this hot and she'd just not noticed? She knew he was attractive in the general sense. She worked for BTS. She saw the effect he had on women every day of her life. But... she'd never been one of them. He was just...adorable, sweet, regular Jungkook. Now one trip to England had turned the world on its head and there was nothing regular about him. She groaned with annoyance, closing her eyes. She was going to be objective about this if it killed her. She'd always been close to all the guys. Each one had a different facet to their personality that made them so very dear to her. Yoongi was a part of her. She loved him completely. Namjoon was her confidante. She could talk about anything with him and absolutely trust that he'd never give her anything back but honesty and understanding. Jimin was her sunshine. He could brighten the darkest of days with no effort. Tae was her sweetheart. One of the most

genuine, lovely people she'd ever known. Hobi and Jin made her laugh until she couldn't breathe on days when laughter seemed a million miles away. And Jungkook was a bunny. Sweet, playful, easy going, her gaming buddy. They were all integral to her. But NEVER in a romantic sense. It seemed almost laughable to her to put romance and any one of them in the same place. It just wasn't that thing. Ever. They were family. More than simple, fleeting romance. They were her ride or die. None of the others had changed a bit. She still loved them completely. She'd still die for any one of them. But now Jungkook wasn't so much tiptoeing as stomping in huge obnoxious boots into a whole new territory for her. Him and romance seemed intrinsically linked. They went together like water and ...more water. She couldn't even look at him without her mind throwing up a million different scenarios, none of which were located even remotely near the friend zone. She pictured him as he was when he walked into the kitchen. Objectively, that was just early morning after not a lot of sleep Jungkook. Not like she hadn't seen him like that a thousand times before. But this morning he was different. Sleepy, disheveled, soft and warm, relaxed, comforting and so so sexy. Jungkook and sexy were not two words that went together. Now she couldn't separate the two if her life depended on it. God, he was sexy. Like, lose all thought, toe curling, scream into a pillow sexy. Her mind raced, presenting her with thoughts to only fuel the fire. Him laid in bed, languid and comfortable, snuggling into him, feeling his body heat, legs entwined, burying her face into the back of his neck, smelling his hair as he grumbles happily, rolling towards her with a sleepy smile, his eyes still closed, skimming his fingertips up her arm until they stop on her neck, his thumb slowly stroking along her jaw, his lips meet hers in a lazy kiss, still halfway between sleep and waking, sweet to begin with, gentle, his lips brushing softly as he's pulled from his sleep, then teasing as he realises what's going on, his lips part, his tongue tickling her lips, asking for entry which is happily granted. His hand moves from her neck back down her arm until he finds her hand. Their fingers entwine as he rolls her onto her back and straddles her, lifting her hands to pin them either side of her head. He's more forceful now, tongues brushing together, his kiss deep and heady. A soft moan of contentment rumbles in his throat. He breaks the kiss, her eyes flutter open to see him on top of her, hair falling into his eyes as he scrunches his nose up in a wide smile. "Good morning" he whispers. "Everything ok?" A voice broke her from her daydream and her eyes snapped open. Namjoon was stood in the doorway of the lounge with the same grin he'd been sporting when she'd left the kitchen. "Peachy. Why?" She responded with a tight smile. "You're being weird again. If I didn't know better I'd think you and Jungkook hooked up" he shrugged. "WHAT?" she squeeked. Her attempt at casual fell completely flat. She sounded more like she'd just been stung by a bee. Namjoon laughed heartily. "Something's going on. What it is?" He questioned. She considered brushing it off but this was Namjoon. He could read her like a children's book. She swallowed hard, suddenly needing to say everything in her head out loud to a human person. Maybe that would make her realise how dumb it was and restore her sanity. She sighed heavily and noticing the expression on her face, Namjoons grin faded into a look of concern. "Can we talk?" She muttered. He frowned, nodding. "Of course. What is it?" He asked. She looked around and ran her fingers though her hair. "Not here. Outside?"

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jjk #bts namjoon #bts fanfic #bts #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts ot7

[pies-writes-and-more]

catch in the dark

Word Count: 1,879

Warnings: angsty feels, unrequited love, an ending that might hurt you a bit, mentions of characters drinking alcohol - all assumed to be of legal age!

Pairing: Sugawara Koushi x Fem!Reader 

A/N: as usual because they’re amazing, thank you to @satan-ruler-of-hells and @thisnoodlewritesao3​ for reading this for me before and letting me know your thoughts! I appreciate you both so very much <3  Also, I’m sorry for the sad feels guy haha that’s just how we’re feeling today.  Inspired by: Catch in the Dark by Passenger

Haikyuu Masterlist

Your name flashed on Sugawara’s phone screen and he immediately gave a small smile. He wished he could hear from you more often, but that smile slowly turned sad, because he knew that you only called him when you were broken.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly after hearing your small “Hi” from the other end.

There was a pause but you just sighed and your voice weakly got out, “I know you’ve got work soon. But can you leave your front door open again?”

He told you okay, because it was okay. This had happened a few times before and he always wanted to be there for you. But he hated that this was the only time he would see you. When your heart was at its lowest, your eyes fragile, dull, no more sparkle that he used to see.

Suga closed his front door, leaving it unlocked just as you asked. And as he walked his way to work, he wondered if he really was as dumb as everyone thought. Everyone always told him that his love for you was toxic, that it wasn’t a good friendship to only be called when you needed him to console you. But wasn’t that what friends were for?

It was his fault for falling for you anyways. For letting you run away with his heart and disappear with it, only to get your own broken and return to him.

By the time he got home, you were on his couch, curled up in some old pjs you kept at his place and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Your eyes focused on the old reruns playing on the TV, barely even noticing him come in.

“Are you alright?” He asked, the words feeling like a mantra - something that was always repeated when he saw you.

“I wish I knew what it was like to be hopeful,” you told him softly and Suga could tell that you’d been crying. Your voice crackled with tears and heartbreak and he wanted nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms. “I’ve always been hopeless at hoping... always really bad at coping with this kind of stuff.”

Suga never knew if his words made a difference, but he pulled out some ice cream from his freezer and climbed into the couch with you, holding your hand and gently rubbing your back as you cried over and over again.

“Maybe I’m just not worth being loved,” you joked after you had finally shed your last few tears for the day. Your laugh sounded so genuine, it made Suga’s eyebrows furrow. You were laughing as if you were really joking. How was he going to tell you that you were worth ten times the love that you’ve chased? That you were the sole holder of his heart and that he would give his life just to see you smile for the rest of your days.

“Why don’t you just confess to her already?” Asahi had asked earlier today when Suga told the guys that you were back at his place. 

Suga smiled sadly, looking down at the work in his hands, “She’s never wanted me. It’s always someone else.” He thought for a moment and glanced out the window as he realized how difficult it was to love you. Loving you was like playing catch in the dark, unsure of where you were and unsure if you knew he had thrown something at you. Unsure if you would ever return or if you ever would throw something back. Suga had known since the first moment he had met you that he wasn’t even in the realm of your love life. He was a tear drop in an ocean of flames.

It was Wednesday but Suga knew that it didn’t matter. He pulled out the alcohol and poured you a drink, watching you greedily swallow it down, as if the burn in your throat would make you forget the burn in your heart.

“Men suck,” you mumbled quietly after a few shots, burying your head into your arms. Your watched the liquor in the bottle swirl around as you poured yourself another shot, sighing softly.

“I know,” Suga told you gently, brushing your hair from your face so he could see your eyes. He loved your eyes. He loved how you seemed to carry the whole universe in them, how looking in them was like an adventure.

“Why don’t they ever stay? Why do men always leave?” You seethed in anger, gripping your glass just a bit too tightly. “It’s always the man that leaves.”

Suga’s words were like a broken record, words you had known far too well because it was everything that your other friends said too, “You’re perfect, Y/N. Men come and go but don’t you blame yourself. They’re just trash,” he told you softly. But maybe you would never know just how much he meant it. You were perfect to Sugawara Koushi. 

You just shook your head in response, huffing, “So perfect I haven’t had a stable relationship since high school. I’m so tired of putting my heart out here and getting no where,” you grumbled, banging your head against the table with a pout. Suga winced as you hurt yourself, pulling you up from the hard surface and checking your face for any redness.

“Just got to wait for the right man,” he told you softly, holding your face in his hands and just watching your eyes. How a guy could turn you away he would never understand. He didn’t get why the men you always met up with turned out to be assholes, why you always seemed to be attracted to red flags and toxic behaviours.

“I don’t even think a right man exists,” you murmured, eyes fluttering shut as the alcohol slowly started to take its sleeping potion effect on you.

Suga gave a small smile and laughed out gently, “Probably not,” as if he wasn’t wishing he was your right man. He helped you out of the chair you were practically slipping out of, letting you lean on him while he helped you to his room.

Suga’s apartment was small and only had one bedroom, so every time you came with another broken heart, wanting to be consoled and wishing you could forget whoever you just spent your emotions on, Suga would give you his bed, tuck you into his covers, and take the floor.

Today was no different. He tucked you in, noticing how late it was getting. You were both probably going to be hungover tomorrow and he considered calling in sick for work tomorrow. He pulled his spare pillow and blanket onto the ground with him, sighing as he stared up at the ceiling.

“You’re going to have to tell her eventually,” Daichi had told him, tired of watching one of his best friends take a back seat in his romance life because of someone who only used his heart for comfort.

“If I do, I might lose her,” Suga insisted quietly. “I’d rather stay here in the darkness, waiting for the fact that she might, than lose her forever.”

He was being pathetic, Suga knew this. He shook his head clear of his drunk thoughts, wondering what would happen if he confessed to you now and blamed it on the alcohol. Then he could see how you would take it. Would you be happy? Could you have been waiting for it? Or maybe you’d ignore him from now on, avoid talking to him... your friendship was everything to him, even if he was your designated breakup friend. Even if it was only sometimes, Suga liked having you around. And he didn’t want to give that up for a maybe she likes me back.

“Suga?” You whispered, his eyes shooting over to your direction in surprise. He had thought you had fallen asleep already.

“What is it, darling?” He asked gently, shifting on his side so he could face you.

You gave him a tipsy smile, eyes closed and a slur in your words, “If we’re both single by the time we’re 40, let’s just get married okay?”

Suga’s heart hurt a little hearing those words, “Sure, love,” he told you, even linking pinkies with you when you begged for a pinky promise. He watched how happy you seemed with his promise, flopping back into his bed and mumbling something else about how men sucked. He did, Suga knew they did. But he wished he could show you that sometimes, there were a few guys out there that didn’t suck all that much.

Your promise stuck in his head all night while he tossed and turned. It didn’t matter that it was some drunk promise, Suga finally convinced himself. Because you would never want him anyways. He was used to taking a back seat, being a last resort. He was okay with it, really, he told himself as he squeezed his eyes shut to try and keep any tears at bay. He just wanted you to be happy, even if that didn’t include him.

But what if...

What if he told you he loved you? What if you gave him a teary eyed laugh and shoved his shoulder back, scoffing. What if you’d say, “Took you long enough, idiot.”

What if he kissed you, tasted what that chapstick of yours tasted like? What if he held you in his arms and promised to try and mend the broken pieces that others had left behind? What if he was the reason behind your smile, what if he got to wake up to seeing your sparkling eyes every morning, what if he got to see that face you made when you were really concentrated or when you were talking about all the things you were passionate about?

And what if you loved him back? What if you had been waiting for him to confess this whole time? What if there was a fairy tale ending to this story?

What if there was a future for you two?

All of the what if’s remained in Suga’s head from the time he closed his eyes to sleep to the time he woke up. Maybe... just maybe... it was worth to tell you because what if you two could be happy together?

Suga’s eyes blinked opened slowly as he made up his mind. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, that it had always been you and that he wouldn’t leave you like every other guy had. 

He glanced at the alarm clock glowing in his room, the one that read 5:15AM. It was now or never. He wanted to tell you. 

Suga shifted to sit up, rubbing sleep from his eyes with one hand and trying to make sure his face was presentable. He was ready. If you two could be happy, it would be worth it right? He turned and reached for your arm in the bed, wanting to feel your warm skin under his fingertips.

Only for his fingers to find empty sheets instead.

“It’s always the man that leaves”, you had said. But this time, you had left him without any warning. 

And just as fast as he got his hopes up, they fell.

Haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@al0ehas​ @aurumk​ @devilkittymusic​ @thisnoodlewritesao3​ @satan-ruler-of-hells​ @trashy-simp​ @jeppiet​ @lucyheartfilias-wife​ @darkvadeeer​ @haikyuutothetop​ @wolfishwriting​ @livy384​

#sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara x y/n #sugawara x you #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi #hq sugawara #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #hq angst #pieswrites #sugawara angst #sugawara

[sincerelyella]

First Time Love - happy birthday Deb!

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Drake x MC (Ava); Liam x OC (Ella)

Characters belong to Pixelberry; Ava Matheson belongs to @debramcg1106​​ and Ella is mine

Summary: Drake forgets Ava’s birthday and is in panic mode to do something super sweet for her.

A/N: It’s Deb’s birthday and my goodness she is one of the most caring people on tumblr. If I’m having a bad day, week, month, year (I mean, face it, aren’t we all?) she somehow just KNOWS and reaches out to me to make sure I didn’t die or something. Between her and Burnsy, I have fallen in love with Drake Walker … and I am a LIAM STAN. She already knows that her fics are like my crack, I love you so much Deb! I really really really hope you like this, and I’m sorry if it’s too crazy LOL

-> this is a repost from my other blog since I am updating my masterlist, Deb’s bday is not actually today. 

My soul sister and nekkid twinsie @burnsoslow​, thank you for prereading and editing and always talking me down from my emotional turmoil every time I want to post something. I love you a butt ton!

Warnings: just some adult language and some inappropriateness because, let’s face it, the TRR gang can get a little crazy.

Words: 1275

6 months ago

Drake and Ava both flop onto the bed after having sex.

“Oh my God,” Ava panted.

“Oh my God is right, and that’s how you have sex, America,” Drake smirked proudly.

“What’s happening here is kind of amazing.”

“Uh, yeah.”

The pair stared at the ceiling in stunned silence.

“Like, I wanna film it but I kinda don’t because that would be porn.”

Drake grimaced. “This body is not going on camera.”

“Yeah, mine either.”

“Okay, here’s the plan. I’m gonna go banana it. Then I’ll be ready for round 2.” Drake slowly sat up on the side of the bed.

“Define ‘banana it.’” Ava arched her brow.

“I’m gonna just … eat a banana.”

“Oh, thank God.”

Ava sat up and stood with Drake as the pair of them moved towards the bedroom door. Walking out into the hallway, they took notice of Liam, Maxwell and Leo watching them curiously from the living room.

“Uh, I’m going to show Drake something in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, it’s um … tiles.”

“It’s for sex!” Maxwell blurts out.

“Go! Just go make love in our communal shower!” Leo called out after them as they both ran towards the bathroom.

Present day

“Remember when you first brought Ava to the loft and you guys sounded like a couple of wild bears fighting over a salmon?”

Drake turned a dark shade of red while Ava smirked. “What’re you getting at, Rys?”

Leo shrugged. “I’m just saying … it was awkward.” He shuddered at the memory. “You walked into the kitchen in your fucking boxers, Walker, still half zonked out from all them orgasms.”

“Okay, you can stop talking anytime!” Drake hid his face behind both hands; Ava gave Leo a puzzled look.

“Where was I? When was that?”

“You were still passed out from all of your orgasms, my dear,” Leo patted her shoulder reassuringly. “But your boyfriend here –” he pointed in Drake’s direction “– was sporting morning wood and shish-kabobed poor Maxwell while he was getting his coffee.”

Drake sunk lower in his chair. “I told you, I won’t speak on that shit anymore, Rys!”

“Babe.” Ava covered her mouth to suppress a laugh. “You shish-kabobed your best friend?”

“He is not my best friend,” Drake said through gritted teeth.

“Who isn’t your best friend?” Max appeared in the kitchen and side hugged Ava. “Hey, cutie, what’re you guys doing for your birthday today?”

Drake’s eyes widened and quickly straightened his facial expression. He felt like his soul left his body and he was watching the whole interaction between Max and Ava in a daze. He didn’t even hear what Ava’s response was, but it still made him feel like a grade A asshole.

“Well, I’m sure Drake has something exciting planned.” Leo raised his voice an octave to get Drake’s attention. “Right, Walker?”

“Hmm?” He snapped his eyes over to Leo and realized what was said. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Aw, that’s really sweet.” Ava leaned in to kiss Drake’s cheek. “I’m going to take a shower.”

As soon as Ava flounced out of the room, Leo started to laugh. “You piece of shit, you had no idea it was her birthday today, did you?”

For the second time that morning, Drake turned beet red and groaned. “No, I totally forgot. You know I’m bad at romantic shit; why did you throw me under the bus?!”

“Because my goal in life is to make you miserable,” Leo laughed harder. “I thought you knew that.”

Before Drake could retort, Liam and Ella made their way into the kitchen.

“Morning, everyone.,” Ella began to make the coffee while Liam grabbed some eggs out of the fridge to make breakfast.

“Good morning,” Max sang as he hugged Ella and helped her grab some coffee filters.

“Yeah, morning,” Drake grumbled.

“Who pissed in your cheerios this morning, Walker?” Ella chuckled when Drake gave her a dirty look.

“Nothing, it’s just … Ava might be upset if-”

Leo cleared his throat. “Yes, what happened, Drake? Tell us why Ava would be mad at you? Did you pour maple syrup all over your body and ask if she was in the mood for a short stack?”

“What the-”

Max chimed in. “Did you think it would be funny to put on one of her panties and jump around? But it just ended up freaking her out?”

Liam looked up from cracking the eggs into a bowl. “Wait, what?”

“No, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Drake scowled as he glared at Leo, who was grinning from ear to ear.

Maxwell shrugged as he moved to sit in on one of the stools at the kitchen island. “Just asking, dude. It happens.”

The whole kitchen grew silent and turned to stare at Max.

“What happens, exactly?” Ella crossed her arms and cocked her head slightly. “You wear women’s underwear?”

“I don’t wanna know!” Drake roared. “Can someone please help me plan something for Ava?”

“If you want romance, you know where to go,” Leo smirked as he gestured towards his brother manning the stove.

“Liam?”

“Yeah?”

“What should I do for Ava’s birthday?”

The gang collaborated all throughout breakfast, waited for Max and Ava to leave while he distracted her and took her shopping, and began to set their plan into motion.

“Are you sure about this? This seems kind of … corny.” Drake looked around at his bedroom that was twinkling in lights.

“It’s not corny,” Liam said, affronted. “It’s romantic and she’ll love it.”

Drake rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I’ve never done all this for a girl before … I’m not really sure if this is right or not.”

Ella jumped off of the bed after hanging the last of the pictures. “You’ve never loved a girl, Drake?”

“I just … it’s hard to explain.”

Liam and Ella shared a knowing look.

“It’s alright, my friend.” Liam patted Drake on the back. “You don’t have to tell us.” The couple walked out of the bedroom and shut the door behind them. Drake positioned himself behind the door and looked around to make sure everything was in place.

He vaguely heard the front door open and shut, and Maxwell’s voice carried through the loft. “No, I cannot watch Netflix with you, Ava! You need to go to Drake’s room and see what’s in there!”

Drake rolled his eyes. Maxwell was never subtle.

“Um, okay, thanks for today, Max.”

The bedroom door creaked open and Drake heard a soft gasp. “What is all this?”

String lights were hung on a wall with pictures of Drake, Ava and the gang throughout their relationship. Marquee light-up letters that spelled out “I Love You” donned the windowsill on the other side of the room, rose petals were strewn about, and a bouquet of roses stood next to the letters in a vase.

“Hey.” His voice cracked a bit and he cleared his throat. “I wanted to do something nice for you for your birthday.”

“Drake,” Ava’s eyes welled to the brim with tears. “This is beautiful.”

“You know I’m not all that great with fancy words.” He shook his head and looked down at his feet for a second and then back at Ava. “But I figured all this would say it better than I ever could.”

“You … love me?”

“That’s what the letters say,” he chuckled. “Before I met you, I never knew what it was like to be able to look at someone and smile for no damn reason.”

“And he says he isn’t great with fancy words,” Ava chuckled. “I love you too, Drake.”

“Happy birthday, Ava.”

#First Time Love #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trr #choices trr #choices the royal romance #choices trr au #choices Drake #Drake x MC #Drake Walker #happy birthday Deb #the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #the royal romance au #the royal romance fanfiction #the royal romance fandom #trr au #The Loft

[youarejesting]

A Very Bad Day

[MASTERLIST]

Request: @hoebii​

Beta: N/A Pairing: Seokjin x Reader Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Slice of Life, Drama, Romance Words: 1.2k

Summary: Kim Seokjin has a bad day and I the clever Narrator call on you to help him, just read your lines and don’t stuff up the story got it. I believe in you.

Kim Seokjin had a bad day. Well, bad was an understatement to you or me. The criteria of a bad would be getting late to work, forgetting your lunch, and that report that was due Friday was due by the end of the day. But if you think that is a bad day well then this was worse. If I had to label it for you readers then I would call this very bad.

It was unpleasant, as no one would wish to have a day like this. It was distressing, there was truly something about it that made Seokjin uneasy. It was vapid, so very dull, and unchallenging. So if your bad day is labeled bad then this was a very-unpleasant-distressing-vapid-bad day.

The events of this very-unpleasant-distressing-vapid-bad day are not only unimportant to the story of which I am telling you but also too upsetting to repeat and honestly, Seokjin would rather it wasn’t brought up again, work was work, but the home was a place free of the boss and duties and pants. Where he didn’t have to smile or apologize while getting abused because he was right and no one would listen.

So for the sake of Seokjin’s very-unpleasant-distressing-vapid-bad day, I will leave the events up to you dear reader, conjure the most horrifying deadlines and boring lectures in your mind and let’s move on to the present and more pressing matters. 

Seokjin relieved himself of his bag, coat, and shoes at the door, waiting at least till the living room to dispose of his work pants. He was free from the stifling attire he associated with the stresses of his work. Promptly flopping on the living room couch in a manner one might liken to the cetacean surfacing behavior of both whales and dolphins. 

After executing the perfect side breach Seokjin wiggled into the comforts of the cushions until he found a spot deemed comfortable enough to waste the next few hours on mind-numbing televised entertainment. 

His comforts and distractions were unhelpful and he pulled a cushion from beside his form and promptly smacked himself in the face repeatedly with it. 

I know what you are thinking and no there was no apparent reason for this behavior, no parasitic bugs crawling in his brain misfiring nerves nor was there any madness growing ill in his mind. He was as the young and hip kids were saying nowadays ‘doing it for the vine’. Which for those unfamiliar with this phrase, it means… Well, I suppose it means doing it for growth because vines are a plant that grows? Or, at least that is my interpretation and who is narrating the book here you or me? 

We are getting off track dear reader Jin’s day however unpleasant, distressing, and vapid of a bad day it was, would continue to metaphorically suck if we do not fix it. 

How about you start by greeting him just say the lines written using your own name and I am sure you can turn his day around. But you have to say it out loud, in a whisper, or at least mouth your lines silently, like those people who sometimes do when they try to remember something. They look at their watch and recite their appointment time or their next stop on the train. Yes, you must commit dear reader, otherwise, Jin will become sad, or think you are a ventriloquist. Let me set the scene. 

Seokjin, laid there still incredibly exasperated trying to relax his mind, when his partner that’s you, my dear reader, walked in carrying a few bags of groceries. 

Your smile faded at the tormented expression on his face, “Kim Seokjin, how was your day?”

“It was fine” he pulled himself to his feet and forced a smile, a smile most seen in customer service. Seokjin took the bags from your hands, always trying to prove himself useful which he honestly didn’t have to. You knew how hard he worked for you already, and you never ceased to show him gratitude and affection. 

“I can tell you are lying to me, you know I can see it in your eyes,” you decided to call his bluff. 

I thought for a moment we were in a somber play, do you always speak so monotonously. Perhaps say your lines with a bit of feeling, walk around your room and act this out or at least let your mind wander. I promise no one will care if you look silly, but your face might turn red. 

“I don’t know what you mean, I just had a long day but I am glad to be home?” He said not turning to face you, his shoulders were tense and his hands were shaking a little. 

“Jin please look at me and tell me what’s wrong?” you knew it was getting worse usually no matter how bad his day got he would eventually just let it go but today it only lingered and festered. 

“I want to quit.” He said, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t be there anymore?”

“Hey, Jin, listen to me, you don’t ever have to stay in a job which you do not enjoy. If it brings you this much sorrow it isn’t worth keeping.” You said pulling his head onto your shoulder wrapped his arms around your waist and —stop blushing! Wait till the end of the scene— sobbed into your sweater. “I support you if you want to leave but for now I have a better idea.”

You guided him to the couch, a bag of snacks in hand and as you sat sideways on the couch you softly patted the space in front of you. He sat with total complaince and laid back against your chest letting you cuddle him, feeding him ice cream and his favourite crackers until the tears subsided. 

Almost half the tub of ice cream had been devoured before he was reduced to a few sniffles here and there. Pressing kisses to his crown, you continued to hold him because it was warm, because he deserved unconditional love and comfort in this scary moment it was a big decision to leave one's job.  

“I love you!” 

Wait I didn’t tell you to say that how did you—

“Seokjin you are kind and selfless putting others before yourself. You even thought to hide your sadness so as not to bring me down. But we share this burden. You are talented, a tremendous cook and you work so hard, at home at work even in your hobbies. You are the funniest guy I know and I love when you laugh because it makes my heart flutter. I know it is scary to think you are losing your job but I will be there for you, physically, emotionally, financially. You are my worldwide handsome.”

Seokjin turned to face you wiping at his damp eyes, —excuse me this is my story since when did I tell you you could take over— you grabbed his cheeks and pulled him forward into a kiss that tasted like a boysenberry swirl ice cream.

So I guess when you think about it, this day was not as ‘bad’ as it might seem. It was not all unpleasant as with you Seokjin was quite pleased, it was distressing but he found himself easily de-stressing in your arms. It wasn’t vapid as he made a change and it would be challenging, and though it wasn’t the best day it was definitely a good afternoon. 

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts fuff #btscreatorscorner #castlebangtan #bts kim seokjin #kim seokjin #jin x reader #bts oneshot #bts request #kim namjoon #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #jin x reader fluff #bts kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x reader fluff #seokjin imagines #seokjin reactions #seokjin scenarios #seokjin requests #jester asks #jester requests

[mmand0]

Back To You // F!Reader - Javi

Quantico

05:00

You groaned and tossed in your bed as your watched beeped at you, the light blinking rapidly signaling the start of a new day. Your roommate Wanda was still asleep, but you could hear her protest as her alarm went off. Slowly, you got out of bed and began your routine: grab a towel, your plastic basket filled with shower items, fresh underwear and a bra, and slipped into your rubber flip flops. You braced yourself before opening the door to the living area where another one of your roommates, Marie, was already heading out the door to shower as well. The two of you exchanged a sleepy greeting before heading to the communal showers together. As usual the morning folks were already nearly done with their showers and chatting with one another as they moisturized and got ready for the day. This part of the day was always your least favorite, but you were almost done with the mundane routine of Quantico. You found your way through the steamy room and found favorite shower stall. There was nothing special about it really, but it was tucked in the back and it was the darkest part of the shower room. After your shower, you quickly dried down and slipped into your undergarments before heading to the benches to get ready. Sitting in your underwear with a towel wrapped around your hair, you continued your routine of getting ready- lotion, moisturizer, sunscreen, and minimal make up. You always felt like you weren't much to look at, so there was no point in making much efforts in looking "pretty." Some of the girls put more effort, but you weren't here to mingle.

"Almost done, Y/N?" You looked up to see Marie already dressed with her make up and hair done. She was the pretty one. The men always stole glances at her when they would walk down the hallways. She was bubbly brunette with such a bright smile. Marie was sweet- truly, but she had a ferocity hidden beneath that million dollar smile. There was one incident at a bar once; as you and the other girls were drinking, a man walked by and placed his hand on her rear. Within seconds, Marie had turned and slapped him across the face. This kind of behavior typically gets you eighty-sixed from any establishment, but luckily you were regulars. The man was kicked out immediately, and the crowd cheered.

"Yeah, just need to put on my clothes and dry my hair." You slipped into your khakis, white tennis shoes, shirt, and a grey sweater with your last name printed on the back. Not cute, but very convenient to wear such bland clothes. You do like to keep up with fashion, though you never ventured out to wear outside of certain colors- earth tones, grey, black, white, blue, and beige. Timeless and effortless. You unwrapped your towel from your hair and began to dry it.

"You know you should really just borrow my hair dryer," Marie said as she fussed over your wet hair. You rolled your eyes and began to put your hair in a braid.

"Yeah, yeah."

"No, really! You'd look so gorgeous with a little more volume and-"

"Marie."

"Alright, fine. But just keep that in mind... You never know who might be checking you out." She smirked at you with a twinkle in her eye.

The second eye roll of the morning.

"You're still going with that Javi thing?"

Marie shrugged and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "I don't know, maybe? I mean you guys have some sexual tension every time we do any training together."

"No, I'm just competitive. That's all, Marie. Besides, doesn't he have a fiancé?"

"I'm just competitive- right. You've convinced no one, sweetie. The two of you just need to do the deed before we all get separated. And yeah, that's what I heard, but I haven't seen a fiancé." You sighed and slipped out of Marie's half embrace.

"Come on, let's get breakfast..."

She was right though. You couldn't deny that sexual tension between you and Javier Peña, but the man was a flirt. He was easy on the eyes, smart, athletic, and charismatic. The girls were always smirking and giving him bedroom eyes. Of course, you had no idea if the tension was one sided, nevertheless, you were attracted to him. Were you going to do anything about it? No, of course not. There two things on your mind: excel and get hired. There was no time for romancing, especially not a flirty hunk (who might have a girl waiting for him) everyone is already swooning over. Despite the attraction and competition between the two of you, you can admit that Javi was a nice guy from time to time. In fact, he does consider you a friend in the academy. Even with the constant bickering and one-upping one another, the two of you would study together every now and then. Sometimes he even worked out or ate meals with you. You always wondered why that was- perhaps just to show he's not all bad? To avoid getting your heart broken and to kill what little hope for a deeper relationship, you have convinced yourself that Javi was just trying to get close to you to ruin your chances on becoming the top student in Quantico. That had to be it.

You and Marie found your usual table in the cafeteria and was soon joined by your other roommates, Eleanor and Wanda. Breakfast was simple today: oatmeal, fruit cup, coffee, and a boiled egg. The girls chatted with one another about the upcoming exams as they ate.

"Can you believe Wilson's giving us another test? That's what? Twice this month already?" Eleanor grumbled with a mouthful of oatmeal.

"Yeah, but it's just behavioral science. Not that bad, right, Y/N?" Wanda turned to you. "Besides, if you need help, you know you can ask Y/N for-"

"Unless she's going to ditch us to study with Peña again," Eleanor sneered. You turned bright pink. "Oh my god. You are studying with Peña!"

"Well, he asked, and-"

"Oh my god, you minx! You said you didn't like him!"

"No, I don't, but-"

"No but's! You totally have a thing for him! Look, Y/N, I am in total support of you sleeping with Peña, but just be aware that I will need-"

"Okay, that's enough Eleanor," Marie interjected, a finger pointing at her. "If Y/N says she's not into him, she's not. Besides, they're two very talented agents and they're always in competition with one another. Honestly, it makes sense." Despite the teasing earlier, Marie was always good at defending you when you needed it. Eleanor was always into her gossip and frankly, she needs to keep her cool more often when it comes down to academy rumors. "And Y/N should keep her enemies close, right, Y/N?"

You nodded and laughed. "Exactly. Think of it as like... a real life case- Peña is enemy number one, and I gotta keep my eye on him before he takes my number one spot."

"Speaking of which..." Wanda whispered. Her eyes were looking straight past you, and you didn't need to ask what- or rather who- she was looking at. You felt a familiar presence behind you before he slid to sit at the table.

"Well good morning, ladies!" Javier Peña flashed a smile and sipped some black coffee. "What are we talking about this morning?"

"Peña." Wanda responded, raising a brow. "What makes you think you're invited at our table? Don't you usually eat with your roommates?"

Javi frowned. "Aw, don't be like that, Wanda. Can't I visit my favorite ladies in the academy this fine morning?"

"You mean visit Y/N?" Eleanor smirked and nodded towards you. Javi put his hands in the air and chuckled. "You got me. Just here to check in with you for studying later. Still good at 17:30?"

"Yes, now go away and let me eat in peace, Javi," you respond before drinking your coffee.

"Ouch, alright, alright. Kind of cold this morning, Y/N. Maybe you and I could go for a run to heat things up?" You turned your head to Javi and rolled your eyes. Third eye roll of the morning. Javi laughed and stood, "See you ladies later." The other three ladies Eleanor was about to open her mouth, but you raised your hand to stop her.

"Don't, Eleanor. Stop fantasizing. Let's just get to the tracks before it gets crowded."

The rest of the morning and afternoon was calm. After breakfast you went straight to do physical training, then a short break before forensic science, another larger break, then communications, lunch with the girls, then the last two classes. You headed straight to your room to get out of your clothes, take a quick shower, then get into jeans and a clean shirt before heading to study with Javi. The shower room was quiet this evening, and you were grateful for that. You needed to think without everyone else making comments. This morning's exchange was curious. Javi never really came to check on you when you set up study time together. You always showed up, and he would always be there waiting. There was never a question whether you would be there or not, so why did he "check" with you?

"Whatever," you told yourself. You turned the knob off and quickly got ready before heading to the library. You grabbed your backpack and a stack of study materials, and started the short walk towards the library. Javi was already outside leaning against a pillar smoking a cigarette. You approached him and sighed as he put his cigarette out on the ground. "I know, I know, I should stop."

"It doesn't help your lungs, idiot."

"Yeah, I know. That's why you're so much smarter than me. Anyway, let's get going. I want to get to sleep earlier for once."

Studying with Javi wasn't as bad as you made it seem with the girls. He was a pleasant study partner and he did work hard on understanding the material. There were times when the two of you had opposing answers, and instead of getting frustrated, he went straight to the books to check. Most of the times you were right, and he would admit defeat. Honestly, he made you a better student despite the constant competition and snarky remarks with one another. As the two of you studied a particularly confusing case, you noticed Javi seemed to be on edge. You never really saw him this rigid or nervous before, and decided to take action.

"Want to take a break?" you asked, closing the folder.

"Hm? Why? We're almost done."

"Let's just take a break. Ten minutes."

Javi pursed his lips and admitted defeat. "Fine. Let's go take a walk."

The two of you headed back outside to take a couple laps around the campus. The moon was shining brightly already, and people were heading back to their dorms. A few of them waved or bid the two of you goodnight as they disappeared into the buildings. "So... Are you doing alright?" you asked after a few excruciating seconds of silence.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, Javi, you tell me. You came up to check on me this morning and you're body language right now doesn't exactly convince me that you're fine."

Javi reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and his zippo. "Alright, fine. I'm just nervous about what comes after the academy."

"Why?"

Javi stopped walking, unlit cigarette nearly falling out of his lips. "W-well, I..." He paused, placed the cigarette back into the pack, and stared down at his feet. "I don't know. I'm just attached, I guess."

"To the academy?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"You know for someone so fucking smart, you're clueless."

You raised a brow and placed your hands on your hips. "What is this about, Javi?" Without another word, his lips were on yours. You didn't do that right? He did? You were frozen, but you let yourself give in, arms falling down at your sides while his hands found your face. It felt like an eternity before he pulled away.

"I don't know if I'll see you again after this, and I just wanted a chance to do that before we go our separate ways."

"Javi, this is just going to-"

"Complicate things, I know, but I'd rather do it than not do it at all. Didn't you know how I felt this whole time?"

"I mean... people talked, but I wasn't entirely sure. You flirted with everyone," you responded, waving your arms around. "How was I supposed to know?! Besides don't you have a-"

"Fiancé? I did." You could hear the hint of sadness in his voice. You wanted to pry and ask more about it, but perhaps this wasn't the best time. "I had a fiancé. It didn't work out. Look-" He took your hand in his, and squeezed it gently. "I'm leaving the country after the exit exams. Whatever happens, I just wanted to at least have this before we lose contact."

"Alright, I get it... I wish you would have just told me sooner, Javi." He tucked your hair behind your ear and leaned in for another soft kiss. It was odd kissing someone you've been in constant competition with, but it felt... good, you suppose. It was not a great feeling. You weren't exactly happy, but you weren't angry or sad either. It just felt confusing and you didn't know this at the time, but this memory would haunt you in the future. For know you were going to savor the moment before it ended. Javi led you towards a more secluded area where the two of you devoured one another for a good twenty minutes before heading back to the library. The rest of the evening was more tense than before, but the two of you were professionals. After finishing your studies, he walked you to your dorm, kissed you goodnight, and went on his way. As soon as Javi disappeared, you opened the door to find the girls sitting around with mouths agape.

"Are you kidding me?!" Marie exclaimed, eyes wide with shock.

"WE SAW THAT!" Wanda squealed. "NO DENYING NOW, Y/N!!!"

Eleanor sat smugly, pretending to check her nails. "Told you!" You sighed and dropped your bag on the floor. They were right, you couldn't pretend and deny it anymore. They saw it from the peephole on the door, and there was no point in hiding when your face was as red as the apple Marie was holding. "Tell us everything!!" Marie said between the crunching of the apple in her mouth. "You have to!!! Roommate rules!"

Although you usually avoided discussions of romance and gossip, you couldn't help but retell everything to them. You never had a lot of encounters with men even before Quantico, and this one was a little more special than that of the few boys you have dated. The delight and squeals of joy from your friends made you laugh. It was a nice little jovial exchange that you desperately needed before heading to bed where you knew you were going to analyze everything that just happened. After an exciting discussion and the number of congratulatory hugs from them, you bid them goodnight. As you lay in bed that night, you couldn't help but caress your lips. He kissed you. Whatever happens after the academy, you at least had the chance to experience some sort of romance with Javier Peña.

Los Angeles, One year later

06:00

The aroma of coffee filled your apartment as your boyfriend busied himself with making breakfast as you showered and got ready. It has been a year since graduation, and you haven't heard from Javier Peña since then. There was no denying that it broke your heart a little, but you managed. Two months after graduating, you and Marie were immediately hired to be part of the FBI team in Los Angeles. It wasn't an easy transition, but you were grateful for the job that would distract you from the heartbreak, and even more grateful to be close to your family who lived in San Diego. After a few transitional months, you ended up meeting Adam, an LAPD officer. He was nice, but not as motivated as Javi. It was a little annoying at times... Adam preferred to do the desk work and slacked off a little often to your taste, and you would try to push him to get more motivated which only caused him to be irritable. After the few times you pushed, you decided to pick your battles better and here you are, six months later, living together in your apartment.

"Breakfast is ready!" Adam said, poking his head in the bathroom.

"Thanks, I'll be out there."

You stared at the mirror and inspected your image. After being around these LA folks, you began to learn how to do your hair and make up a tiny bit better, but still kept it minimal. Marie taught you techniques with your hair, and on your days off you would go over to Marie's apartment and the two of you would venture to the shopping malls to take a look at make up. It was nice to have a normal life for once- no studying, no Javi messing with your thoughts, and no shower time being shared. You headed into the kitchen and sat at the pub table where your breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast was already there waiting for you.

"I'll be late today, by the way," you said between bites. "I have a meeting with the director later."

"Oh. Okay... no problem," Adam responded. He sounded sad, but you were too busy to notice. Your attention was on the radio that was playing in the background. They were talking about Colombia and the cartels again. The war on drugs was becoming a prominent talk of the town, and the DEA agents were swamped with arrests and cases, particularly with the cocaine epidemic. Although it wasn't your branch, the FBI was becoming more and more involved with the cartel cases. Too many dead bodies were being reported, and not to mention the issues with communism. You seldom discussed these things with Adam, mostly because it was classified, but also he didn't seem to care too much about it. Often times he just wanted you to "relax" and "take it easy for once." It made you cringe the way he looked at the growing problems in the country- it was like he truly didn't care. You often found yourself devising a plan to break up with him, but never had the courage to pull the trigger. You needed an excuse- it'll be easier that way.

"What time do you think you'll be home?" he asked. "Don't you remember what today is?"

You looked up, a look of confusion and guilt on your face. Suddenly, it hit you- it was date night. The two of you had promised to do date nights once a week, and you've managed to skip out on it for the past three weeks. "Oh god, I'm so sorry, Adam. This is really-"

"Important. I understand. Don't worry, we have the weekend!" He always had an optimistic attitude despite the constant rainchecks you've been giving him. "I know you, Y/N. You're a hard working agent, and I know you can't really talk to me about what's going on in the FBI, but just please take some time off once in a while..."

You finished your cup of coffee, nodding to avoid any more conversations about taking the time off. This routine with Adam was beginning to get on your nerves. You stood from the table and planted a kiss on Adam's cheek before saying goodbye. On the way to the office, you picked up Marie who had a cup of coffee ready for the two of you.

"Jeez, what's with that face?" she asked as she handed you your cup. "Looks like you're off to a rough start already."

"Huh? Do I look that bad today?"

"No, make up looks great- it's your face. Did Adam do something?" You glanced at the side mirror and saw what she was talking about- you looked drained and annoyed. Perhaps this relationship was taking a much bigger toll than you expected. "No, he didn't. I'm just annoyed from the reports in the news this morning. They're not accurate, that's all." Marie shrugged and flipped the radio on to the FM radio. The commute to work with Marie always began with some music on the FM radio. This was a rule the two of you made- no news, no reports, no work talk in the morning. It was a great rule, really. It relaxed you guys before you entered the stressful lives as FBI agents. Marie worked mostly with missing persons, and you tend to get assigned to terrorism and surveillance. The past month you were teamed up with DEA. The Colombian cartels have wreaked havoc in California, and it was a blood bath. Your day consisted of lots of digging up files today. Reports, some interrogation (though thankfully you didn't need to do the interrogation yourself), and lots of calls. By the end of the day, you were looked absolutely exhausted. You sat behind your desk reading some files when the director appeared seemingly out of nowhere- or you were just not paying attention.

"Evening, Y/LN," he greeted. The director was a proper looking man in his mid fifties. Mr. Smith always wore a black suit, and his black and pepper hair was always slicked back with pomade and even his mustache was incredibly clean and trimmed. He never came to work with stubble, and he always seemed to smell like leather and aftershave.

"Evening, sir," you respond, closing the file and standing to shake his hand.

"This is urgent. We need to talk now." Smith led you to his office, letting you in first before closing the door. You took a seat and folded your hands on your lap, attempting to control your nervousness. He took his seat behind the large oak desk that was as neat as the way he looked.

"Let's cut to the chase, kid. You're getting transferred."

"I'm sorry? Did... Did I do something wrong?" Your mind always went straight to the worst case scenario- anxiety does that to you.

"No, christ, Y/N, absolutely not. You've been one of our best agents, but your intellect and skills have been requested elsewhere. We're taking a huge loss, but this is an opportunity of a lifetime." Smith paused and leaned back in his leather chair. He furrowed his thick brows and placed his hand on the side of his face. He was studying your body language- from what he could see, you were confused. You didn't show it physically, but your eyebrows made a small twitch. It was enough for him to know you were concerned.

"How would you like to go to Colombia?"

#javier pena x reader #Javier Pena #Pedro Pascal

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Pairing: Steven/Connie

Rating: Teen Audiences 

Words: 2.6K~

Summary: In which Connie’s subconscious, innocent touch helps Steven realize just how nice the sensation of gentle fingertips gliding across the surface of one’s gem can be. (Just a bunch of teen romance fluff, + first kiss)

This is set like... a few weeks before Steven leaves Beach City. I imagine he’s been recovering from what happened in I Am My Monster for at least 6 months by this point.

His days aren’t always great- there’s a lot of ups and downs- but thankfully, today is a markedly pleasant one.

_____

His house is still for once. Impossibly so. No Diamond business, no new arrivals to Earth, no disgruntled Gems kicking down his front door. No more battles, beyond his own internal ones. Admittedly, a part of him is happy for the peace and quiet. He’s appreciative of the way all his family and friends rallied around him in support months back after... erm- after his breakdown, but every guy needs some space eventually.

‘Some space’ never has to mean alone, of course.

Steven sneaks a doe-eyed glance at the girl flopped next to him on the living room couch, her mind lost in the pages of her own fantasy world. It’s a new series, something about a human accidentally falling into the world of the fae. (It’s only been like, half an hour, and she’s almost a hundred pages in already!) A pliable smile teases his lips as he watches her eyes flicker back and forth, digesting each passage with a voracious hunger. Sighing in content, he turns his attention back to his own book, externally making as if he’s busy exploring the world of fiction to hide the sappy fact that instead he’s been thinking about her all along. Honestly? He adores quiet days like these. Even if they’re not doing anything special, it’s just nice to get to spend time alone together. It’s a comfortable together.

Connie shifts, instinctively curling closer, her free arm slung against his side. With a soft hum of content he leans into her welcomed embrace, trying his best (and— caught in her innocently bewitching presence— failing abysmally) to focus on the wandering lines of text.

Everything is peaceful.

No hard knocks, no frenzied phone calls, no family disruptions. The domestic warp hasn’t even activated once this whole lazy afternoon. In recent days, he’s pretty sure that’s a record.

At long last, his house is still... and yet in a flash, his hormone riddled teenage mind— ever foolish— is everything but.

Because Connie’s touch is tickling him.

It’s subconscious, almost imperceptible at first. At some point her free hand has roved so that it’s no longer pressed against his side, but against his midriff— which is currently exposed, his shirt bunched up at the waist from all his slouching. Teasingly, her fingertips dance upon the facets of his gem with the pinpoint expertise of a prima ballerina, encoding an endless rhythm directly into the sum of his being, the feather-light contact sending vibrations almost too faint to notice coursing through his hard light veins. But not too faint for him. Not now, not while host to this kind of silence. Not when the girl draped on the couch next to him unknowingly commands every shard of his attention with the slightest twitch of her index finger.

It’s taking all his willpower not to squirm at this ticklish contact right now. It’s so... weird when other people touch his gem. It’s certainly not something he’s used to.

(Steven promptly buries the memory of the last time someone touched it, refusing to let old terrors tarnish an otherwise pleasurable encounter. He can feel the pink threatening to rise in his cheeks, that instinctual rush of panic he’s grown so numb to over the past months rearing its ugly head. It’s so, so hard to wrestle away from its thrall sometimes, but thankfully his therapist has been teaching him ways to mitigate these sorta reactions. His eyes clamp shut as he breathes deep through his nose and focuses on the tangible, on what he knows: the plump, lumpy cushions of the couch under him, the slight scent of garlic and cumin in the air from the lunch he cooked a few hours ago, the rhythmic crashing of waves outside the house. The warmth of his best friend by his side—)

Tap, taptaptap, tap, taptaptap...

His cheeks bloom a human red as her lulling rhythm continues.

Like he said, it’s obviously subconscious. It has to be, right? It would certainly make sense. From his observations, Connie’s always been a tactile thinker. It’s part of what made her such a quick study in sword fighting. Whenever her mind is alight, those beautiful neurons firing back and forth like a firework display, her body is in motion. Sometimes it’s her foot, tapping impatiently into the dirt as she parses through memory to find the precise words to say. Or it’s like how she memorizes facts for tests easier if she’s jogging, listening to audio recordings of the test materials she made herself. And then there’s times like now, when Connie is reading. When her fingers tap and glide with an almost impish touch across the diamond gemstone in his belly’s center as her eyes— by all appearances entirely disconnected from both her hand’s motion and his reaction— skim effortlessly across the unfolding tale on her page. Her hands... oh, those hands... calloused, warm, digits lithe and curious in their movement. They’re always shifting, always tapping, always twitching to some identifiable rhythm. Is this just another example of her sway towards more kinetic-based thinking? Or... is it something else? A silent yearning that extends its roots from the heart into object reality, innocently unaware of the power of its call?

Stars, Steven thinks, mustering with all his strength to ignore his burning face, so maybe I’ve been thinking a little too much about her lately...

Eventually, it all becomes a bit too overwhelming to handle. If this continues in silence any longer, well... well, heck. He doesn’t even want to imagine what embarrassing things could happen. Mustering up all his courage, he flips his book shut and drops it on the cushion beside him.

“Um, Connie? By the way? That’s kinda ticklish,” he squeaks out, voice high and reedy.

Upon his words, she notices where her fingers are subconsciously tapping and immediately pulls her hand away, her cheeks flushing dark. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she says, quickly tossing her book aside and shifting upright on the couch. “I didn’t mean to goose ya’! I wasn’t even thinking abo—“

“No, it’s okay!” he interjects with an open hand. “I’m fine, really, I am. I- it’s not like, uh- It isn’t like a bother, and- well, it just—“

Burning up with such a ferocity that he’s about one impulsive decision away from high tailing it out of this fraught social situation and dunking his glowing pink head right into the Atlantic, he forces himself to hush before he says something super stupid and humiliating in front of his best friend in the whole world that he’ll regret and replay in his dreams forever and ever for the rest of his days.

Okay, Steven, stop running your mouth like a lovesick fool for one second and think. How can you say this in a way that doesn’t sound entirely stupid and/or weird?

Watching him closely, curiosity written across every vibrant feature, Connie inclines her head ever so slight, a subtle, wordless gesture— one only a Jam Bud could understand— for him to keep going.

The phantom sensation of her fingers tapping against crystal rushes through his nerves like the physical analogue to a bad ear worm. He reaches up to itch at the side of his neck, unable to fully stifle his nervous laughter.

“Honestly, it uh- it actually felt pretty nice?”

“What, me touching your gem?”

“Yeah,” he manages to croak out, voice cracking like it hadn’t since he was freshly fifteen.

She isn’t able to fully stifle her giggle at this, pressing her hand tight to her mouth far too late.

His heart nearly plummets at the sound of her teasing laughter, the constant thrumming of his hard light veins steadily quickening as a flood of energy pulses just below the surface. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything, he knew it was far too much after every other recent misstep he’s made in their relationship! Why couldn’t he have just kept his trap shut?

“Aw, geeze,” he says, voice thick and his every muscle ready to bolt, “this is so embarrassing—“

“No, no! I shouldn’t have laughed, it’s okay!” she jumps in, pressing her hand to his shoulder to help ground him “It’s just bodies, Steven. It’s not weird. It’s just how skin-to-skin contact works. It’s supposed to feel good, because we’re meant to be social creatures, y’know?”

He hums softly in agreement, taking the offered moment to ease himself down from brink of panic. He focuses intently on the weight of her hand, resting feather-light against him. It’s a small gesture, but a powerful one. More than anything, more than words alone could say, it’s a promise. A reaffirmation, moment by moment. I’m here. We’re here. It’s a truth even the sobering reality of shared trauma can’t hope to erase: that even when the going’s tough, they have each other.

Connie brushes a stray stand of hair behind her ear then, shifting on the couch. Perhaps out of a sum of bashfulness, her eyes drift, not quite able to meet his.

“I- it’s silly, but I guess I never considered that you could even feel sensation through your gem,” she admits.

“Really? But you’ve had a gem before. Well, shared a gem,” he corrects himself, though in the end it’s all semantics.

“Well, sure, but when we’re Stevonnie, they don’t tend to think about stuff like that, because you’re used to it, and I’ve never thought about it. It’s simply... normal for them, I guess.”

“Hahah, yeah. It’s always been that way for me,” he says with a soft chuckle. “I never crawled like a normal kid, d’ya know? Dad says I always used to move around by scooting on my butt. When I tried crawling my gem would scrape against the floor, and apparently? I hated it.”

She laughs for real this time, (with him, not at him), her voice ringing true and beautiful and clear like a bell. His heart swells with joy.

And then...

Connie’s lithe fingers reach towards his midsection, hesitantly at first, before— in careful consideration of boundaries— pausing in their voyage entirely.

Her eyes lock with his, her shy expression wholly giving up the chase on what her request will be before she ever shifts her tongue to ask in words. “Is it okay if-?”

“Always,” he says, gently leading her hand under the hem of his shirt and towards the gemstone at his core.

He can’t help his sharp inhale when he feels her fingertips dance across his facets once more. Even when he knows what’s coming, knows to expect this contact, it’s funny. Not funny in a ‘haha’ way, funny in an ‘I’m not used to this’ way. After all, he’s never exactly made a habit of touching his own gem beyond periodic cleaning, and (almost) no one else has ever had a purpose to. It’s for this reason that a small traumatized segment of his mind still can’t help but spiral in panic about the mere concept of any external being brushing against this treasure, this tangible half of his very essence. Given the nightmares he’s been through, he’d have every right to deny her touch. But with Connie... beyond everything else, allowing her in this way is the greatest show of vulnerability he knows how to give.

It’s his proof to her that in this moment, he trusts her implicitly, without question.

Gracefully, she traces her finger around the edge of his gem, lines each individual facet in turn. It’s ticklish at first, much like before, but as she grows more confident in her gentle exploration he finds himself relaxing under her touch. He feels warm, a faint buzz of content flooding his system through his hard light veins. With her, he feels safe.

“It really is beautiful, you know that?” she says, a peaceful expression settling across her features. “Your gem.”

“Nah, you’re beautiful...” he murmurs bashfully, cheeks flushing.

“So are you,” she replies in swift measure, eyes soft with endless adoration.

His fluttering heart extends its gossamer wings and soars. If it weren’t for her nestled at his side, lithe fingers running across each facet in even measure, her tactile presence tethering him like an anchor to this present reality, he’s pretty sure he’d have floated halfway to the ceiling by now.

Daringly, his gaze locks with hers. He swears his heart’s beating its own drum solo within his chest, but this time it’s not because of fear, not at all.

It’s the feeling of freedom.

His fingers loop around a stray strand of hair that’s fallen in front of her eyes. That seems to happen a lot, he’s noticed. As delicate as he can manage, he hooks it back over her ear.

“Can I...?” he whispers, his warm breath brushing against her lips.

She replies in wordless affirmation, leaning forward to close the narrow gap between them. Hooded eyes drift shut. Her hand still rests on his gem as they finally move to cross that final barrier, that fuzzy, oft indistinguishable line drawn between childhood sweethearts and could-be couple, and kiss.

Well, attempt to, anyways.

To be fair, despite his schmaltzy roots, Steven only has movies and books to pull from as an example.

Their noses bump against each other’s at first. Both giggling, they tilt their heads to compensate and then mash their lips together, reveling in every ridiculous moment of their joint inexperience. It’s definitely sloppy, and he doesn’t have a clue where he’s supposed to put his hands or how long is too long, or how he’s supposed to move his mouth against hers, or— stars, did he even remember to brush his teeth this morning?? He sure hopes so— but because it’s with Connie all of that doesn’t matter. It’s perfect in every way.

“OoooOOOoo, looks like loverboy’s finally gettin’ some!”

He and Connie startle at the interruption, pulling apart from each other with equally flushed faces to match eyes with their surprise visitor.

It’s Amethyst, leaning against the kitchen table with a downright roguish smirk, probably thinking she’s the funniest Gem that’s ever emerged. Of course, who else would it be? (Though, which entrance did she come in from? When did she sneak past them? Were they really so involved with each other that they just... failed to notice??)

“Crude,” he says, brows creased with faint annoyance.

In return, she cups her cheeks and serves him the most ridiculous, schmaltzy expression she can muster. “Sap!”

Connie stifles a laugh at her exaggerated antics, but on his side he can’t help but be salty that her interruption yanked the two of them away from the blissful throes of blossoming teenage romance.

“Oh, get outta here, you,” he chimes back, and playfully tosses one of the couch’s pillow straight towards her face. “Shoo!”

The quartz Gem catches it out of midair and grins, no stranger to tests of reflex these days. Adopting a fake posh voice, she fires back her retort. “Your wish is my command, Sir Sappington...”

Tucking the pillow under her arm, she turns on her heels and skips up and over the warp pad’s platform, stalking towards her room with a victorious air. She doesn’t even try to mask her lovingly teasing snickers as the door splits in two at her command and she crosses the barrier into the temple’s dimension warping interior. The last they hear from her before the passageway shuts is an overly triumphant ‘whoop.’ Steven can’t help but raise a scandalized brow at this. What, were the Gems hosting a betting pool about him and Connie, or something?

But thankfully, in time, the beach house grows peaceful again. They’re alone together, and together they’re content.

“Geeze, sorry about that,” he says bashfully, scratching at the nape of his neck. “You know how Amethyst is, heh heh.”

Connie smirks with loving, mischievous intent, comfortably cuddling up against his shoulder. “She’s kinda right, though...”

“About?”

“You can be pretty sappy sometimes,” she says fondly, and tilts her head so she can smooch his cheek. “Just one of the many reasons I love you.”

____

Notes:

So, given that I’ve also written a fic wherein Steven wakes up feeling a hand against his gem and has a panic attack, a word of explanation with my headcanons-

Ultimately, I imagine there’s a very stark difference between a trusted individual like Connie touching his gem when he’s fully alert and it’s just them, alone, safe... and him waking up and being groggy enough to not immediately realize who it is next to him.

In the end though, I just hope Steven would be able to reclaim a once-terrifying experience (someone else touching his gem) as something that is also able to be loving and comforting when it’s done with consent.

#su #su future #steven universe #connie maheswaran #connverse #su fanfiction #steven/connie #amethyst #my writing stuff

[wonder-womans-ex]

Curtain Call

Act One, Scene Eight 

“I’m home!” Sirius calls, unlocking the door. 

It takes a few seconds, but then, “In here!” comes James’s voice from the living room. 

(‘Living room’ is probably a bit of a stretch, really, because ‘living room’ implies that there are also other rooms, and the fact of the matter is that they have two bedrooms and then a kitchen with a couch and a TV in one half and a table in the other.) (James is, evidently, in the designated couch half of the kitchen.) (Sirius had originally suggested calling it the ‘lounge,’ and it is a sad sign of how determined James is to grow up at least partially that this suggestion did not become a reality.)

Bending down to unlace his combat boots, he shrugs his backpack off and leaves it there on top of James’s checkered Vans and a pair of black sneakers he doesn’t recognize but probably belongs to him. 

He walks past the fridge, glances at the schedule held up by the J and S magnets they got from Peter when they moved into the apartment, and makes a mental note that he has his first rehearsal for Oliver tonight. 

“What’cha watching?” he begins, noticing the flicker of the TV screen, and then stops dead. 

There are a few moments of silence before Sirius grabs one of Elvendork’s catnip mice off the floor and chucks it at his younger brother. “You fucker!”

Regulus sits up from where his head had previously been resting on James’s lap. “Hello to you, too, Sirius.”

“You came to visit! And you didn’t tell me!” 

“In my defense, I didn’t even know I was coming until, like, ten this morning. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.” 

“Hey, they didn’t tell me, either. Just showed up at the door an hour or two ago, knocking like their life depended on it. I thought it was the police coming to tell me you’d been arrested. Or found dead in a ditch.”

“Shut up, James,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes. “Of course they didn’t tell you—I’m his brother.”

“Well, I’m the love of his life.” 

Regulus buries their face in James’s shoulder. “Why did I tell you that?” he groans, and Sirius glances between the two of them, blinking. 

“Wait. Are you two—”

“No,” they say in unison, which clears up absolutely nothing.

“...I think I’m missing something.” 

“You’re definitely missing something.”

(Yes, but what?)

He watches nervously as a significant look passes between them. It’s a conversation, really, but instead of words everything is communicated with eyebrow raises (mostly Regulus) and exaggerated winks (all James). 

Finally, Regulus lets out a huff of breath. “All right,” they say. “Fine!” 

James protests when Regulus climbs off the couch—not at the climbing off the couch part, but because he takes the blanket with him. The two stick their tongues out at each other, and Sirius feels his heart swell. He loves them both so fucking much, and he’s never been so glad that Reg managed to get out of that house, too. He’s not sure what he’d do without his little brother. 

The walk in silence towards Sirius’s bedroom, and Regulus immediately jumps onto the bed once the door is opened. They bounce slightly when their body hits the springy mattress, and they flop over onto their back to stare at the ceiling. 

“I came out to James,” he says, not bothering with pleasantries or preamble. Regulus never has been one for that—straight and to the point is the only way they really know how to do anything. 

“You dated James.” Tact, Sirius, he reprimands himself immediately inside his head. Just because your brother is a conversation heathen you don’t necessarily have to stoop to their levels. 

“Yes, I know I dated James. But… I’m not gay.” 

“Okay.” Sirius pauses, waiting to see if Regulus is going to elaborate further. They don’t, so he prompts, “Do you know what you are?”

“Yeah.” 

(So they’re doing this the hard way, are they? All right—Sirius can work with that.)

“I’m not gay,” Regulus says again. “I’m not pan or bi or any of those things. I’m… I’m asexual. And aromantic.” 

Sirius blinks. He takes this in. He nods. 

He says something that, in fifteen years, he will look back on and want to dunk his head in very cold water for. “But… James.”

“James.” Regulus nods, sighing heavily. “James is different. I don’t know how to explain it—I don’t love him anymore. But… I did. I used to. And I haven’t felt like that about anyone else, well, ever. Yeah.”

Before Sirius can say anything, Regulus starts talking again. “It’s like—what was it you used to say? In high school? ‘Having a crush on James Potter doesn’t make you gay. It makes you human.’ I loved James, but that doesn’t make me allo. Make sense?”

“Yeah. Wait, actually, one thing—so, James is the only person you’re ever loved? Romantically?” 

“Uh huh.”

“And you told him this?”

Regulus brings his hands up, covering his face. “I know. It was a mistake, okay? I should have known it would only inflate his ego even more. I feel like an idiot.”

“Yeah, because you are an idiot.” Sirius reaches over, swatting them on the shoulder. “But at least you’re not as big of an idiot as the guy who knowingly and willingly flirted with his ex today.”

“What?!” 

“Mm hmm. But that’s a story for another time.” Smirking, Sirius glances over his shoulder before beginning to walk backwards out of the room. 

“You fucker!” 

Reg chases him all the (admittedly very short) way back to where James is sprawled on the couch, clearly making good use of his friends’ absence. Finally, Sirius can see what’s playing on the TV—it’s Ocean’s Eleven, and it’s already at least a good half hour in. He and Regulus look at each other, identical smirks etched onto their faces. Together, they jump, and James yelps. 

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Regulus tells him jokingly, and there comes a muffled groan from where James’s face is smashed into the pillows. 

Sirius makes sure that James can actually breathe before he starts to make himself comfortable. He’s perched on the small of James’s back; Regulus is settled in the gap between James’s feet. 

“Is this really,” James laments, “how you want to treat your best friend?”

“Yes,” Sirius says, and smothers a laugh. 

“And you, Reggie—have you no respect for the love of your life?”

Regulus pretends to think for a moment, then, “No,” they say. 

The muscles in James’s back tense suddenly, but Sirius doesn’t think much of it. He should, really, because barely an instant later, James heaves himself over, tipping both Black brothers onto the floor. 

“Ouch,” Sirius says, pouting. “My ass hurts.”

Regulus has an unbelievably shit-eating grin on their face. “Loser.” 

“I thought you were on my side!”

“I’m on no one’s side but my own.” 

This is a mistake, and Regulus knows it. His eyes widen when James and Sirius look at each other, nodding, and lunge forward. There is only one weakness to Regulus Arcturus Black, and the two of them know it better than anyone else in the world. 

Because Regulus may be coolly confident with a sharp sense of humour, but they are also extremely ticklish. Their shrieks and laughs are interrupted by the occasional ‘No!’ or ‘Mercy!,’ but it does nothing to quench Sirius and James’s combined ruthlessness. They are unstoppable, and Regulus can do nothing to beat them. 

George Clooney is shouting about something onscreen, but the three young men tussling pay him no mind. The movie plays on, forgotten, and Sirius lets himself forget—just for a moment—that Remus or heartbreak or that fucking writing class exist at all. 

***

“So,” James says through a mouthful of chow mein, “How was the class?”

“It was good.”

Regulus raises an eyebrow. “‘Good?’ You sound like a kid coming home from school to overly inquisitive parents.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’d know all about that.” 

“Fuck off, they didn’t talk to you, either.”’

“Touché.” 

“Go on, Sirius,” James breaks in. “How was it?”

“It was better than last week, at least. Worse, too, I guess, but then it was better.”

“...Elaborate.”

He’s glad for the excuse to. He needs to talk to someone, and therapy’s an obvious no because he doesn’t have the money and also he has a bad track record of scaring therapists away on the first session, so James and Regulus are kind of the only options. (He’s not kidding anyone. He’s been dying to tell the two of them, specifically, for like forever, but Regulus hasn’t visited in ages.) “Well, I found out why Remus broke up with me. And then I met up with his friends at Frankie’s, and apparently they’re my friends now, too, which is cool, because at the moment my only friends are, well, you guys. Oh, and I helped set Marlene up with a girl.” 

There is a pause as both Regulus and James look at him, taking in this information. “Okay,” James says. “Do I want you to tell me more?”

Sirius pokes at his rice with one chopstick. “I dunno.”

“I—um—you mentioned you made some new friends?” continues James. Regulus stifles a laugh, and Sirius has to admit that the phrase ‘make some new friends’ sounds more fitting for a conversation with a grade three than a university student. “What are they like?” 

“Well, there’s Dorcas—the one who’s into Marlene—and she’s, like, the most extroverted extrovert to ever extrovert. Then there’s Frank, who doesn’t talk much, and Mary, who talks even less, but Mary’s got dyed hair so she’s all right, I guess. Alice is pretty cool, too, and then there’s Lily, who’s pretty but terrifying. Oh, and Fabian, who seems to be allergic to not being a nice person, and Caradoc, who I’m almost positive is related to Angelia Jolie because his cheekbones are just that sharp. And Remus, of course, but I’m sure I’ve told you guys enough about him to last a lifetime.” 

When he’s met by only silence, he scrambles for something to say. “They all strike me as the kind of people who would wear ‘gay rights’ t-shirts unironically, which is sort of my only prerequisite when it comes to friendship. Our resident emo not included, of course, because I would never want to force them into anything that isn’t some sort of My Chemical Romance merchandise.”

Regulus looks down at the shirt he’s currently wearing—it’s got the American Beauty/American Psycho album cover on the front—and then back up at Sirius. “Actually, this is Fall Out Boy.”

“Same difference.”

“How dare you.” 

Laughing, James spears another piece of broccoli and gestures with it between the two of them. “Reg, you can’t exactly blame him for his ignorance around your obsolete music tastes.”

“Says the guy who listens to the fucking Monkees—” 

“Fuck off! The Monkees were an icon; a legend—”

“The Monkees are trash.” 

“You’re trash!”

“Whoa, there,” Sirius breaks in. “I dodged a bullet when my only two friends in the world had a friendly breakup instead of an unfriendly one, and the last thing I want is to find out that that bullet is actually a boomerang.” 

Regulus groans. “Okay, first of all, we’ve always spent like fifty percent of our time arguing about music, even while we were dating—which you’d know if you hadn’t started avoiding the two of us like the plague the instant we got together.”

“Shots fired,” James says under his breath, but he’s immediately silenced by a glare from Regulus. 

“Secondly—and more importantly—if you ever make another analogy remotely like that one, I will hurt you. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Sirius assures them, but he’s struggling to hold back laughter. 

There’s a pause, and then Regulus crosses his arms, pouting. “What?” 

“Nothing.”

“You’re laughing.”

“Because you’re funny.”

“I’m not funny!”

“You’re cute.”

“I am not cute!”

“Yes, you are!”

Regulus turns on James once more. “James, am I cute?” Clearly, they think better of this, because they quickly add, “Wait, no, don’t answer that.”

“See, you’re cute! And you know it!”

“I give up!”

Sirius sits back in his chair. “You’ve lost, Reg. Admit it. And then get me a fortune cookie.”

“All right. Fine. I’ve lost. But I hope your fortune cookie tells you you’re going to get struck by lightning tomorrow.”

“Sweet; maybe I’ll get cool powers.”

“It doesn’t work like that, moron.”  

“Whatever you say.” 

For a moment, he thinks he’ll have to get the fortune cookies himself, because Reg isn’t going to, but then his little brother stands up and reaches into the brown paper bag on the counter. “Here,” they say, tossing the cookie at Sirius’s head. 

“Hey!” 

James gets a cookie, too, but his is placed on the table in front of him, not at all a threat to his health, well-being, and quite possibly his life. Sirius points this out, labeling it ‘favouritism,’ but Regulus only takes a bite of his cookie and calls him dramatic. 

“You first,” James says, nodding at Regulus, causing Sirius to gasp in betrayal. The other two pay him no mind, however, and Regulus clears his throat. 

“You will,” they say, “come into fair fortune or good will in the near future.” 

Almost immediately, James starts clapping. It’s tradition—after a fortune cookie reading comes the raucous applause. For them, it’s half the fun of ordering Chinese food. 

“All right, my turn.” James squints at the slip of paper in his hands. He holds it up to the light, and then, “Something will happen soon that will change how you look at the world.”

This time, Sirius and Regulus know to wait before they applaud. James always adds something funny after his fortunes, and they’re curious to see what it is he’ll come up with this time. 

“What,” he says, after a brief moment of thought, “will my glasses prescription change or something?”

Sirius looks at Regulus, and they both laugh as they clap. It’s cheesy, entirely too predictable, and basically the most James thing possible. Neither of them knows what really caused them to want to befriend James all those years ago in—oh fuck, it was grade four, wasn’t it?—but it sure as hell wasn’t his sense of humour. 

“Sirius?” It’s said like a question, and Sirius is quick to answer. “On it, Reg,” he says, and breaks his cookie in half with both hands. (Well, he says ‘half;’ it’s really more like a quarter and then the other three.)

He reads out his lucky numbers first, without even looking at the fortune itself—that’s his tradition; he’s the only one of the three of them who does it. “Three, thirteen, seventeen, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, forty.” 

“Isn’t that, like, the fifth time in a row you’ve gotten thirteen?” Regulus says. “That’s gotta mean something.”

“Shut up,” Sirius tells them, and finally he lets his eyes find the tiny lettering that is his fortune. 

Without letting himself hear the words in his head first, he reads them out loud. “You have forgiven easily in the past; it is time to do so again.”

There’s a silence. What is this? It’s not a fortune; it’s a statement. Advice, maybe, but even that’s stretching it a little.

“Well.” James says, and claps, Regulus following quickly after, but Sirius can tell it’s strained. They’re all obviously thinking about the same thing—Remus. 

Somewhere in his head, he knows that this doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It’s a fortune cookie, after all—what does it know? But… maybe it does mean something. He’s not sure which he’s hoping for. 

Seemingly just for something to say, James asks, “Don’t you have rehearsal tonight?”

Sirius is, in a way, glad for the excuse to stand up. “Yeah,” he says, “at seven-thirty—which is twenty minutes from now—so I should probably get going.”

“Probably,” agrees Regulus, as they begin to clear the table. “Need a ride?”

“Nah, I can take the bus,” Sirius begins, and then stops. “Wait, why are you offering? You don’t have a car.”

“Um—”

“Reg, is there something you aren’t telling me?” 

“...Maybe?”

“You have a car?”

“I mean, technically it’s a rental, so no, but—”

“Whatever.” Sirius doesn’t need to hear any more. “Yes, please, take me to rehearsal.”

James makes a noise of protest. “What, and leave me here alone?” 

“Yes, James; you can survive on your own. You’re an adult.”

“I don’t feel like one.”

“Or act like one,” Sirius adds under his breath, which earns him a definitive not helping look from Regulus. 

“You’ll be fine as long as you don’t burn the house down. Goodbye.”

Sirius grabs his script and his blue hoodie with the picture of a rubber duck on it from his bedroom, and when he walks back through the kitchen to the front door, Regulus looks him up and down once and hands him his backpack. 

The only sound that accompanies their walk down the hall and subsequent elevator ride is the faint jingling of the key ring in Regulus’s hand. It’s not until they’re in the car and pulling out of the parking lot that Regulus says, “And you’re all right with this?”

“All right with what?”

“Me being… you know.”

“A total asshole? No. Aroace? Yeah, of course. I’m your brother. I’m here for you, Reg.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

(Sirius ignores the ‘I guess.’) “Is James cool about it? Because if he isn’t, I’ll kick his ass.”

“No, he’s fine. He’s great. He made a couple jokes about himself having raised my expectations so much I could never be with anyone else, but that’s just James.” 

“That’s just James,” Sirius repeats. “And you know that you can always talk to me, right? If anyone tries to mess with your head?”

“Yeah. Now, enough about me. Let’s talk about the guy who ‘knowingly and willingly flirted with his ex’ earlier.”

Damn. He’s hoped Regulus had forgotten about that. 

For a moment, Sirius is trapped between the want to stubbornly refuse and the need to actually talk about his feelings. He settles on the latter, but not until they’re close enough to the rec centre where rehearsals are held that he knows he can hop out of the car and walk the rest of the way if need be. “He’s just… he’s everything, you know?

“And I know that he doesn’t want to get back together, and I know that we really shouldn’t even if he did. But he’s Remus. And I’m constantly flip-flopping back and forth between wanting to be his friend because we’ll never be anything more than that, and…”

“And what?”

“Being so in love with him it hurts.”

Regulus glances away from the road ahead for a split second, eyes flickering over Sirius's face, their expression unreadable. “Sounds like a you problem,” they say finally. 

“Reg?”

“Yeah?”

“Not helping.”

“Sorry.” 

“I just—my eyes basically turn to hearts whenever I look at him, but it also hurts, you know? Because he broke up with me, obviously, but also because today I found out that the reason he broke up with me was that he kissed someone else, so obviously that’s kind of shitty, and I don’t know how to feel about any of this because he’s basically the nicest person in the world, and can one mistake really change who a person is? But he also hasn’t tried to make up or anything, and we’re apparently pretending we’ve never met, and did I mention he’s got a fucking tattoo of the Sirius constellation that he never told me about, and… this is my stop.”

Regulus pulls over, wincing a little as the tire grates against the curb, and then turns to meet Sirius’s gaze. “So, it sounds like you’re not in a great place right now,” he says. “And I get that. You know this goes both ways, right? You can always talk to me, too.”

“I know. Love you.” He grabs his backpack, making sure it’s got everything he needs in it—phone, script, highlighter and pencil for notes and directions, bottle of red Gatorade—and closes the door. 

The window rolls down slightly, and Sirius watches his own reflection disappear with it and be replaced by his brother’s faint smile. “Love you, too,” Regulus says, and then he is gone.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius x remus #james potter #regulus black #cw food #james and sirius are bros #he/they regulus black #regulus black is an emo I don't make the rules #university au #muggle au #post-breakup #actor!sirius #I don't know how I feel about this chapter

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fandom: ATEEZ

characters: jeong yunho; ATEEZ

reader: gender neutral

word count: 1.4k+

summary:  yunho could never really settle down in one place, neither could you.

a/n: dedicated to @seacottons​ ily <3 <3. they gave me an idea to make a series of fluff fics based on songs that i listen to. so here’s a second fic for that series.

Based on the songs: Gypsy - Lady Gaga, If I Could Ride a Bike - Park Bird & Chevy, Love Like You - Rebecca Sugar 

notes: angst, fluff, traveling, bad bird puns 

Day 1: Yunho could never really settle down in one place, neither could you.

You two were young, bright-eyed, and bushy-tailed with every new adventure you get to experience. A smile brightens your face when you remember the first time you met Yunho. 

It was in Europe- specifically Venice, Italy. You were biking along The Canal and watched as many tourists lined up to tick the boat ride of their bucket list. You were never really touristy, you just loved seeing the sights around you and taking in the country’s culture. 

As you hiked along the bricked road, you disturbed a rather large flock of pigeons minding their own business, causing them to fly up in a panic. This in turn caused you to swerve right to avoid being thrown into the dispersing birds, only to see that you were about to run into someone. 

You pull the breaks on your bike, causing you to practically fly out of your seat and into the person you tried so hard to avoid. 

“Well, this is hawkward.” The stranger grunts from under you.

You two ended up in the infirmary with mild scratches (and probably some bruises) but the guy seemed to take it lightly. His soft, rounded cheeks flush a bright red whenever he smiled at you and you surprisingly made good friends with him. To make up for the accident, you offer to tour him around the city and pay for any expenses. 

You two spent the whole day the next day from dawn to dusk, trying out all the foods, going to all the most picturesque places, and ending with the most authentic Italian dinner one could have. And that night, on a reckless whim, you both decided to throw all caution to the wind and replan your whole itinerary.

Let's travel the whole world together. 

And travel you did. 

He didn’t think too much of home and neither did you- you had Yunho beside you. 

Day 34: Home was deciphering maps and sailing across the waters with the wind in your hair.

Day 45: Home dancing in the streets during festivals and retiring to bed in the cheapest motel you could find. 

Day 68: Home was being with him. 

You didn’t think much of your growing feelings for the puppy-like human who tried to feed you with each piece of food he could find or fit you in the silliest hats he saw in a shop. You just brushed it off as a summertime romance, a fleeting sort of love that you’d set aside later on in life. But then again, you were young and reckless- and you decided that maybe this summertime romance could mean something more. 

Yunho on the other hand was dying to tell you how he felt about you. He knew right from the get-go that you were the one he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. He was willing to settle down with you, get a house and few dogs to keep you company. He was willing to plant a little garden beside your imaginary home. He was willing to drop everything and run away with you. 

Day 100: You two were strolling along the white sandy beaches of the island of Panglao in Bohol late into the night. 

Neither of you could sleep that night so you thought it would be a good idea to just walk along the cold sand of the shore. The night’s gentle breeze tickled the two of you, making you huddle closer to the tall man to escape the cold. Yunho didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you and pull you into his side.

He stops you in your tracks, saying nothing. Sometimes he could be quiet but this was a different type of quiet- one where he wanted to say something. You turn to him with a puzzled expression and take his hand in your smaller ones. 

“What’s wrong, Yunho?”

“I have something to tell you.”

Day 100 of traveling around the world was a day you could never forget. Day 100 was the day Yunho spilled his feelings out for you. Day 100 was the day you did the same, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug and crashing your lips onto his. This was the day all walls were torn down, anchors were thrown over the side to start something steady and strong. 

Day 600: Seoul, South Korea. 

You sighed as you entered your small but comfortable apartment you shared with Yunho, tossing your things onto the couch before flopping into it. You had a long day at work, and most likely Yunho would have a longer one being a dance choreographer and all. 

You didn’t feel like watching a movie today. So there you lounged on the couch, browsing through your old photos. You went through each album of all the places you’ve been to Munich, Nagano, Ko Tao, and Stavanger to list a few. A heavy sort of nostalgia settles against your chest. 

You missed this- you missed traveling. You missed the freedom it brought.

When Yunho comes home that night you subtly, or at least tried to, bring up the topic of travel again. In your head, the outcome was bright and positive. You thought that he’d say yes and that he’d drop everything to tour the globe again with you. 

But this was reality and such thoughts like these don’t happen at once. Or without consequences.

The day ended with you sleeping alone in the large cold bed while Yunho took the couch. He looked up at the ceiling in the dark of the night, fingers drumming against his stomach. He thought he made the right decision, to be honest with you and tell you that they’ve created too much of a life here in Seoul to be traveling again. You told him that home was being with him- and he was here with you. 

So then why didn’t you want to settle down with him?

Day 695: You laughed with tears in your eyes as you hugged Mingi, who was unwilling to let you go, goodbye. 

“Take care of Yunho for me,” You whisper to him. 

“Of course ____- you know me.” 

You bid your farewells to the rest of your friends and gather your luggage when you hear the announcement for your boarding gate overhead. With a shaky sigh and glassy eyes, you turn on your heels and steel yourself to not turn back. 

Yunho,  with dim eyes walk, watches your form away and into the sea of people that filled the airport. His chest shakes with soft sobs that he fails to hold in, causing his friends to comfort him with words or hugs. Usually, they’d work but all he could feel now was a certain kind of emptiness, an emptiness caused by the huge chunk of his being you chose to tear off.

One by one, his seven other friends leave while he remains. His gaze never leaves the large glass window of the plane runway. His feet stay planted onto the ground as he watches your plane take off to a place far away from him. 

He thought this would be best for both of you. He didn’t want to keep you trapped in an apartment in the city and you didn’t want to keep lying to him about wanting to stay and settle down with your little garden and young puppies.

Day 1117: 

Yunho didn’t know what he was doing back here in Venice. Maybe he just wanted to reminisce a few things and spend his two week-off doing something he had missed. 

He peddles along the familiar cobble streets and watches a group of tourists gather near the Canal for a picture. He chuckles at that and turns his focus to the path once more. 

As if struck with a bout of Deja Vu, a flock of pigeons disperses from the ground and into Yunho’s way. He turns his bike right in a frenzy of feathers and pulls hard on his breaks when he realizes that he was about to crash right into someone. The force of the break throws him off and right into a stranger.

The two of them roll on the ground from the impact. Once Yunho regains his bearings, he immediately sits up to apologize profusely to the person he bowled into- only to stop when he meets a familiar pair of eyes.

“Well, this is hawkward.” You say, a glint in your eye and mischievous smile on your lips. 

Day 1: Yunho could never really settle down in one place, neither could you.

But that’s okay because this time you had each other. And this time, you were willing to try again. 

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #yunho x reader #yunho imagines #yunho imagine #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #song mingi