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#seventeen debate night
sowhat17live · 8 months
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Hoshi's expressions on this gose episode were like a real hamster😂🐹
Our poor tiger/hamster🤣
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lovewaev · 1 year
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jeonghan: c'mon guys, we are all friends! let's hug it out, c'mon, get in here.
*all of seventeen members pile into an awkward group hug*
mingyu: alright, who stole my wallet?
soonyoung: sorry.
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last-of-the-jaded · 2 years
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The reaction from his own team
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bearwiththefox · 2 years
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pia-nor481 · 6 months
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Empty bed Part One
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Lando Norris x reader smut 18+
2.7k words
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Racing was always hard on Lando, he left exhausted and with extreme back pain from sitting almost parallel to the ground in the Mclaren. Many thought he was happy with P2 most races, but that wasn't the case. Coming third means you beat seventeen other drivers, it was something to be proud about. Coming first means you won, all the effort you put in payed off for 25 points and a trophy with "1" written on the front, it meant you were the best on the grid. But second, it always came with the worst feeling. He would be ecstatic getting out of the car, sitting in the cool down room and spraying champagne on the podium, but once he reached the sofa of the post race interviews, waves of dread and disappointment waved over him. "So what about the car is proving to be so tricky for you?" One of the interviewers asked looking directly at Lando, he couldn't blame the car if Oscar. a rookie, managed to come third in the same car. A car that was made for him. "Nothing, just a ... lack of talent." The pause after was so loud, although if Max and Oscar had their mics up, it would have picked up their laughter. But Lando wasn't joking, he just broke the record for the highest number of points without ever winning a race. It was upsetting sure, but his team mate winning a race before him, even though it was a sprint, hurt him even more. It wasn't Oscar's fault Lando felt so down, he just got used to losing, 
All the drivers decided to go out to a club to celebrate another win for max. Lando loved clubs and raves, the atmosphere was so over whelming that he couldn't really think. The DJ wasn't playing as well as he should have, Lando thought, he dances around the line of confident and cocky very well, it was never a turn off. He left Daniel to go the bar for another drink, once he got his vodka and coke he debated on just staying at the bar, drinking a way his problems just for the night. He didn't have to worry about a race next week so he didn't have to easy. Taking a sip of the barely cold drink almost caused him to cough, this was not the Smirnoff he was used to, there was an artificial after taste to the drink as well. "I think you might have my drink."  The girl next to him said laughing lightly, clearly trying to hold back her tears, not from laughter but from the remaining taste of vodka in her mouth. "I think so. Well, here's your just less than full rum and diet coke." Lando said, offering a playful smile in return, offering the glass to her, she took a sip with a nod, pleased to wash the awful taste out of her mouth. "You can definitely have your glass of paint stripper back." Lando chuckled rather loudly at her comment, it wasn't the first time some one had commented on his choice of drink, but her was the funniest. "You don't sound local, so I'm guessing you don't do this very often." He had to shout over the music, in retrospect he should have listened to Daniel on how to chat girls up, but she was too cute not to try. "If you mean come to clubs and talk to strangers at the bar, no. If you mean steal the drinks of very attractive men, then yes." He could barely hear her, so he had to lean in close. Her perfume was sweet and inviting, it was as if everything she said was the most interesting thing in the world, he was captivated. He was able to take her all in, a beautiful mini skirt, it was blue and iridescent, and it barely covered anything, if an elder saw her they would claim it to be a belt. Her mesh white top didn't aid in covering her any better, it did have long sleeves sure, but you could see her lacy white bra beneath it. She clearly knew how to style herself, she had lovely little white heels on and a lot of highlighter on her cheeks. She was stunning. 
"So what are you doing here ....?" She trailed off, not knowing his name. "Lando." He almost struggled to get out, so concentrated on her. "Celebrating with some friends, What are you actually doing here, other than chatting up men?" he almost laughed out, she joined him. "Looking for some fun." She hid her face behind the glass, allowing him to see the frosty blue eyeshadow on her lids. "Is that so?" He responded in a lower octave, reaching out to touch her waist with his free hand, her back immediately arched at the feeling, he was pleased to see how well she responded to his touch. She necked her drink quickly and grabbed his wrist, going to tug him out of the club. He was shocked with how her demeaner changed, she seemed so shy, but now she wanted him so desperate. Once he caught up, she stopped her by grabbing her hips firmly. "My hotel is definitely closer." Lando said, reaching for his phone. Once they were inside the taxi, he couldn't keep his hands off of her, his tongue was basically down her throat with how much he wanted her. Once of his hands snaked up her back, running his hingers over her vertebrae, her face began to warm at the feeling. 
Lando practically dragged her out of the car towards the door of the hotel. Once the lift doors shut he pushed her against the mirrors, kissing her lips again in desperation, in the process his hands grasped he sides of her face, smudging her make up. She rested her hands on his chest before pushing him back slightly, needing air. Lando however, didn't need a break, his continued his venture of kissing every bit of exposed skin, first her neck, the collar bones, there her chest. It was at this point he could also smell her body wash and lotion, their proximity was giving him good access to her body. She began to pull on his hair slightly as a sign to come back up, she reconnected their lips while he hiked her leg up around his hip, groping her ass unapologetically. The doors opened and they rushed towards his room. They didn't stop kissing until the back of her knees hit the bed, their contact broke for a second as she fell back. This gave Lando a chance to really take her in, and she was perfect. He began to lean over her, running his fingers over her neck and jaw, until he reached her mouth, she toyed with her lips before pushing his fingers between them. She sucked lightly, not breaking eye contact, Lando's breath got caught in his mouth upon the sight, licking his lips as he felt his cock get harder in his black trousers. He slowly pulled his fingers from her lips with a loud pop. She tugged her white top over head with more pace than he thought was possible, he quickly pulled her skirt down and was met with the intricate white lace of her underwear. "Fuck me." Lando rasped out, going to pull his clothes off. "I plan to." She said back, sitting up on her knees at the edge of the bed, reaching for his cock. Lando stepped closer, rubbing the tip over lips, before lightly tapping her cheeks with it, even now he was bit of a tease. She stuck her tongue out while grasping his hip, wanting him to be still while she took his whole cock in her mouth. His head fell back slightly as he groaned feeling the tip hit the back of her throat. "That's it baby, just like that." She bobbed her head over and over, motivated by the noises that slipped his mouth. He pulled off and quickly began to glide her tongue on the underside of his cock, she kissed and kitten licked the head before taking his whole cock again. He was surprised with how eager she was, no other woman was able to take the full thing, they had to use their hands to cover the base, she didn't. Lando let out blissful sigh above her, slipping his hand over her jaw, forcing eye contact. He tightened his grip when she hollowed out her cheeks, the pressure was becoming too much for him. His hips thrusting slowly was a sign of how close he was getting. Lando's hands found the back of her head, pushing it down until her nose met his pelvic bone. He lost himself in the feeling of her mouth, his cock pulsating as he moaned out quietly. Her mouth was quickly filled with his cum. "Swallow for me." She did as she was told, looking up at him when let her tongue lull out. 
Lando groaned as he stood up, walking leisurely towards the bed side table, his hand quickly met the neck of a bottle, a bottle of Ferrari champagne. She leaned back on the bed as he slammed the bottle on table before looking back at her; spraying the bottle above her. Her skin quickly became sticky with the bubbly liquid. This gave Lando an excuse to suck on her skin again, obsessed, he needed to feel her against him. He licked his way down her abdomen, once he met her cunt he sucked her clit rather aggressively, she moaned at he contact, closing her eyes to bask in the feeling. He wasted no time slipping his fingers between her slick lips. He began to scissor slowly, hungry to hear her whines at him stretching her out. He was relentless in licking her clit, switching from slow circles to shaking his head side to side, pushing his tongue down flat and hard got the best reaction from her, so he was persistent; curling fingers every now and then to receive an extra gasp. Her heels began to dig into the mattress as her pelvis began to rise; he would gorge on the sweetness leaking out of her cunt. She was quickly becoming drunk on the feeling of her blooming pleasure; rolling out a song of moans and hums. Her hips began to twitch against his face, the orgasm was a sight to behold, let a lone something too feel as her mind began to melt as he sucked and licked aggressively. She didn't know whether she wanted to pull him closer or pull away. The stimulation was too much and she began to see stars in her new found haze, moaning out curses with a mix of his name. Lando pulled away, flashing his teeth in the process of smirking. 
Once she caught her breath, he leaned closer brining the bottle with him. "Open, baby." he tilted the bottle back, letting the champagne pour into his mouth, but his Adams apple didn't bob. He grabbed her jaw and let the alcohol spill into her mouth, she swallowed quickly, wanting to feel his lips on her, he was intoxicating, a feeling she hadn't had in a long time. She was so focused on him that she didn't register being flipped over onto her stomach. Lando pulled her hips up, supporting her weight slightly. She pushed up onto her elbows as he spoke. "You gonna be good? yeah?" he said with a tinge of sass, smacking her ass lightly. She nodded, moaning out as a verbal response. He chuckled before sliding his cock through her lips, she clawed at the now wet sheets, unable to control her self. Lando started slow needing to pace himself slightly, just kissing her got him so worked up, “Fuck.” He strained, becoming more breathless with each thrust. As he continued to press into her, she couldn’t help but clench around him, the way he was hitting all the right spots, touching her skin, groaning in pleasure, made it all that much harder not to cum then and there. His hand made contact with her ass In sequence with the thrusts, the sting was painful and yet it felt euphoric, she groaned into the bedding at the feeling.
Once he pushed in to the hilt, she arched her back further, not being able to contain herself for much longer. Hot breaths filled the air, which was already filled with sex and desire.
Lando’s hand make work up her back before drawing shapes on her shoulders. His hand soo reached her scalp, where he grabbed a fist full of her hair and tugged lightly; ensuring she wouldn’t object before he pulled rather hard, causing her back to reach his chest. He kept her hair in his hand while sucking on her neck, she wanted to feel everything and he made it happen. “Oh, please Lando, please.” She asked, gasping for air after each word.
“Why? Can’t hold it?” He teased, not that he was any better off. She just felt so good and her reactions only heightened the sensation. She whined in response as he thrusted deeper inside of her pulsating cunt. He groaned in her ear before speaking again, “you didn’t answer my question baby.” He was being cocky, but in a way he knew would only turn her on further. “I can, I swear.” Her words were slurring together, making it that much more obvious that she was on the edge of euphoria. She reached around him, grabbing his waist for some support, she could barely hold her head up anymore, the over stimulation setting in quicker than she anticipated.
Lando’s hand slid back down to her clit, aiding in the blissful feeling. Rubbing figure eights over her cunt while thrusting harder made her moan louder in between heavy breaths. He was smirking into her neck, knowing how good he was making her feel. She could feel his teeth against her skin, he was biting down, almost as if to hide his voice, muffling the groans. “That’s it baby, cum for me.” He said, voice dropping an octave for a mere second. She did as she was told, practically spasming in his arms as she let out guttural moans. The feeling of her clenching caused Lando’s cock to twitch. A mix of their cum dripped down her legs and into the bed.
“Good, so good for me. Makin me feel so good baby.” Lando whispered, pulling out. He ran his hands over her body gently, it almost tickled. By the time he got under the covers, she was already asleep; hair tangled, make up smudged and skin dotted in marks that would be hard to cover with the clothes she was wearing, or lack there of. Lando was happy, it was more than the post orgasmic haze, something about her was just right. He didn’t stop touching her, keeping his arms tight around her body to keep her warm, knowing the alcohol would wear off. He felt like he’d accomplished something more than just a win.
When Lando woke up at half past eleven, skin stuck to the bedding he was surprised and confused, until he remembered, partly, what had happened that night. He looked to his side, only to find an empty bed. He shot up, quickly looking around the room for any sign of the night. He walked through the whole “room”, past the tables and sofa, only to be met with silence. Lando walked back to the bed sorrowful, knowing his flight would leave in an hour, so he decided he needed to get ready.
Once he opened the bathroom door he first noticed it was still quite warm, it wouldn’t have been because he’d used it more than 24 hours ago. The condensation on the glass was new. Someone had definitively used his shower. Wrapping a towel around his body as he left, Lando went to his suitcase to pick up some clothes for the flight, he again noticed something was off. One of his hoodies was missing. In an attempt to find it he stumbled upon a pair of white lace underwear across the room. He was please that he didn’t imagine last night, but was disappointed she wasn’t still there. Lando was broken out of his trance when he heard the sound of a notification from his phone.
“Hope you wore a condom xx”-Daniel
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Any mistakes let me know.
Part Two
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dottieisdotting · 2 months
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Baby Fever C.S.C
requested?: yes @urperfectcinnamonroll07 (go show her page some love too,it's rlly good)
pairing(s): Husband!Choi Seungcheol x afab!reader
genre: fluffy at the beginning and end, smut
warning(s): Bid dick!Cheol, PiV sex,unprotected sex (wrap before you tap,ladies and gents),degrading,praise,breeding,Oral (f!receiving),Seungcheol being a girl dad,
summary: your daughter's ask for another sibling and Seungcheol and you make their wish come true
word count: 3k (LORD-)
A/N: so I kinda went a little over ther board with this one but anyhoo enjoy this Cheo, brainstro of mine and make sure (if you'd like to) like,comment and reblog. make sure you eat,drink and rest,loves Yaha mwah xoxo
You and Seungcheol had the cutest family in the world as some would say. Two wonderful 4-year-old daughters Darae and Cheon-sa, with your looks but Seungcheol’s pout. They were so adorable and had you,Seungcheol and the rest of seventeen wrapped around their little fingers.
Luckily tonight was yours and Seungcheol’s date night so the girls were taken to his mothers. So you sat in Darae’s and Cheon-sa’s shared room packing and playing with them. You helped burp a doll and also put them to sleep . you hear someone clear their throat and look up from the floor,Seungcheol walks in,the girls running to hug him shouting and squealing. His gummy smile and dimples show as he bends down to pick both of them up. 
Their giggles fill the room and make your smile widen, standing up,brushing off your pants, you walk over to your husband and your children. Giving him a pat on the back as you leave the room,a small smirk on your lips. It was now his turn to be dragged to dolls play whilst you got the last of the girls’ things together for a couple nights to grandma’s house.
”Darae,Cheon-sa, c’mon time to go to grandma’s” like clockwork you hear the patter of their feet on the hardwood floors of the hallway running to you at the door. They had huge smiles on their faces,also carrying a stuffed animal each. They sit on the floor whilst they ‘help’ you put their shoes on. Darae says something unexpectedly ”Mama,daddy we want another sibling” your eyes nearly pop out of your head when she says that as they both clap their little hands in union. 
Seungcheol just stares down at you with that all knowing smirk as you nod ”another? Well you'll have to wish very hard at grandmas to see if it can come true” your voice was soft as you were so close to them. You kiss their cheeks and forehead before standing up and kissing Seungcheol goodbye as he goes to take the children to his mothers house.
It was now your time to get ready for your date. You shower and take about  one and a half hours doing everything right to the T. Leaving the bathroom with a robe and a towel,drying your hair, you head to your shared bedroom and sit at the vanity. You start to blow dry your hair,knowing it would take a while. After around 30 minutes it had fully dried and you now were deciding if you should curl or straighten your hair. With 10 minutes of debate to curl your hair and pin it back whilst you do skincare and makeup.
Seungcheol came back and walked into the bedroom seeing you in just a robe doing your makeup.  He walks behind you and tilts your head backwards and leans down pressing a short kiss to your lips. 
You continue on with your makeup, making it perfect whilst Seungcheol goes to get showered and dressed too. He walks into the bedroom, brown hair dripping and a towel wrapped lowly around his hips causing you to see his happy trail and V line.
You couldn't help but stare at your husband through the mirror of your vanity. ”stare much,sweets?” you lower your head,shit, you've been caught. But you couldn't help it, your husband was one fine motherfucker. 
You shake your head and bite your lip and continue to do your makeup as he gets dressed in black dress pants,black button up and a black tie (yk what i'm on about) but he walks out with his shirt undone whilst you were trying to zip your dress on. Your dress was stunning. It was red, ironically Cheol’s favourite colour, a slit ran up the left leg to mid thigh and it was tight, making your body show off all those perfect curves of yours. For shoes you wore your Christian Louboutin red bottoms. A gift from Seungcheol because he missed you during one of his tours with SVT
”Cheol,could you zip me up,baby?” Seungcheol nods and zips your dress up,leaving a small kiss on the back of your neck before he turns you around and wraps his arms around your waist and leans in,kissing your lips leaving you breathless. He pulls away and smirks after seeing your face. He buttons up his shirt as you watch. You spray your perfume and you were done,grabbing your little purse and you walk out of your shared room. 
Seungcheol joins you and wraps his arm around your waist,kissing the side of your neck lightly and leading you to the door ”lets go,yeah. We’ve got a reservation at 8, sweets” he leads you to his car and opens the passenger side door for you, you get in and he closes the door before walking around to the drivers side. God, he looked very hot right now. 
He gets in and buckles up before turning on the engine and reversing from the drive and starts to drive to the restaurant. His hand stayed permanently on your thigh the drive there and when you got there he opened the passenger door and held your hand like the gentleman he is.
 The restaurant itself is quite elegant, the walls and furniture are all carved from dark mahogany wood with brass decorations and accents. The lighting is soft and warm, with several candles lit on each table. The smell of fresh food cooking comes from the kitchen, and the air is infused with the scent of lavender and rose petals. The staff is friendly and attentive, making sure to cater to each customer's needs. The food is delicious and prepared with great care, showcasing the best in local delicacies and culinary arts.
One of the waiters took you over to the table and Seungcheol ordered some wine,he wouldn't drink much since he was still driving home later. 10 minutes later the waiter comes back with two wine glasses and the wine of Seungcheol’s choice. She leaves the table with a smile as Seungcheol pours the wine into the glasses before picking his up and waiting for you to do the same. A soft clink of the glasses before each of them take a sip of it,bodies relaxing as this indicates they were definitely kid-free now
They order their meals and eat with little stories of their girls,and family. You also mention that Darae wanted another sibling subtly and he raises his eyebrow and smirks slightly,nodding to the subtle comment. You finish your food and dessert and after Seungcheol pays the bill and buys another bottle of wine for the house, you get to driving home.
At home, it was peaceful,for once it wasn't a mess of girls' toys everywhere. It was quiet too,no screaming,screeching and crying for once. You slip off your heels whilst Seungcheol walks to the kitchen,pouring some wine into 2 wine glasses he got from the cupboard. He sees you walk to the kitchen island next to him and he smiles,kissing the crown of your head softly. ”hi sweets” he smiles,showing his cute dimples. You couldn't help but smile ”Hi Cheol” you reach to take a glass of wine,bringing it to your lips and sipping on it before it goes back onto the kitchen island. 
Seungcheol grabs your hips,pulling you towards him. ”sweets? Dance with me please?” you nod as yours and Seungcheol’s wedding song plays softly through the speakers. You smile and think back to the wedding,the memory still so fresh in your mind as Seungcheol spins you carefully before kissing your lips tenderly.
You kiss back,your hands lace in his hair tugging ever so slightly, he lets out a low moan as you feel yourself becoming wetter with every move he makes. He pulls away,lips a little more red. ”fucking hell, c’mon sweets lets give them another,hm?” you knew it wasn't an actual question because he knew the answer already. You nod and lean in again,bringing his and your lips together into another kiss,this one longer,more passionate with a hint of need.
His hands wrap tightly around your waist pulling your body causing you to almost grind against him. You moan into the kiss as his tongue passes your lips. It swirls around yours as he occasionally sucked your tongue. You break the kiss for some air ”i want another” you say breathless,chest heaving ”give me another,Cheol please”  he nods and throws you over his shoulder,slapping your arse for good measure and walking to your shared room. 
You bite your lip as you get to the room,the door is kicked open and you are thrown on the bed, you look so helpless,so needy,all for Seungcheol. He turns you over,zipping your dress down and taking it off you and throwing it somewhere in the room. He leaves you bare only in laced underwear. 
Seungcheol kisses up your legs ghosting over your sex and continues his kisses up your body,slightly biting and sulking little marks everywhere.
He gets up from you and undoes his dress shirt, his muscles showing, it had you almost drooling. His happy trail makes him look hotter. 
He kneels on the floor,grabbing your legs and pulling your hips to the end of the bed. Your cunt level to his face, an obvious wet spot takes up the middle of your underwear. Seungcheol licks his lips, he wants you so badly. His fingers long and thick hook around your underwear, his mind telling Jim just to rip them,but he couldn't. If he ripped that pair, that would mean he had ripped at least 6 pairs of your underwear in the last couple months.
He was nice enough tonight since he had bought you the pair for the date after all. So finally he pulls down your underwear,throwing them over his broad shoulder. He blows hot air onto your clit making you shiver and whimper slightly. He smirks again,standing up. You whine at the loss,wanting him to eat you out.
He laughs softly at how needy you have become. He reaches over to grab a pillow  giving you a soft peck on the side of your face as he does so. He taps your hips twice signalling you to lift them so he could place a pillow so he could eat you out better. ”hips,sweets,lift em’ for me” so you listen and lift them,the soft pillow slides under and you get comfortable . ”Why aren't you a good girl? Keep listening and I'll fill you sweets , so deep, make sure you will carry my child again.” 
Another thing about Seungcheol is that he had mastered dirty talk to the T and it was perfect. The right amount of praise and degradation was mind-blowing. It got you off so well. He loved the way your body reacted to his voice,his touch. You didn't know but it made him all fuzzy brained, he truly loved you so so much and he was an acts of service guy so he'd fuck you any time anywhere. 
He kneels back down in between your legs, hooking them over his shoulders,the pillow giving you extra leverage so your sex is closer to his mouth. ”c'mon sweets, pull me to where you need me so badly. Oh baby you're dripping” you take your shaking hands and lace them in his brown hair as his dark eyes stare up at you. You tug on his hair,pushing his lips to your clit making you moan in relief. He sucks at your bundle of nerves making your legs clench around his head. Seungcheol had always said that he would die a happy man if it was in between your thighs,fucking you with his tongue and his fingers.
He continues to suck at your clit,occasionally nipping at it making your hips jump as he smirks against your pussy. You tug on his hair letting the moans tumble from your mouth with no shame, you didn't have to be quiet plus Seungcheol liked your moans and whimpers,it showed him how you liked it. His tongue enters your heat quickly,licking all your juices making him moan lowly in delight as you get louder,coil in your stomach tightening every lick. You keep tugging at his hair,pushing him further into your sex, his nose hitting your clit beautifully. You back arches off the bed,toes curling as you moan out a mantra of just Seungcheol, his name rolling off your tongue as the coil is ready to snap. ”g-gonna cum,fuck… please,Cheol”  he hums in approveal as the coil snaps and your orgasm wracks through your body. But that doesn't stop Seungcheol, he keeps going,suckking and licking your release as he helps bring you back down. He carefully removes your thighs from his head as he kisses them gently,the aftershocks of your orgasm still running through your veins.
He loved you like this. All spread out on the bed,fucked out from only one orgasm. His smug look sits on his face as he knew he was the only one that could make you like this. He leans down and catches your lips in a messy makeout. Your hands go to his pants,trying to undo them whilst staying in the kiss. You undo them and tug them down,leaving Cheol to handle the rest as you break the kiss to breathe.
You lay back further on the bed as he rids himself of his dress pants and boxers, his cock hard and red tipped leaking with pre-cum. You spread your legs, your arousal dripping onto the pillow below. ”aw,poor sweets, so needy. You wanna be filled don't you? Stuffed full till you're pregnant with my kid again,hm?” All you could do is nod and mewl his name. That stupid smirk on his face again as he tugs at himself before lining his cock to your entrance. He teases you by only entering the tip making you clench around him ”Cheol,please” you beg for him just to take you but he continues to tease by only fucking you with his tip. 
You sit up slightly and hook your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you as you leave small pecks around his neck and jawline. You roll your hips as he pushes in further bottoming out as his head falls into your neck. He leaves you,still, to get used to the feeling of his cock in you after some time you simply whisper ”move,cheol-ah” and he experimentally rolls his hips as your head falls back,exposing your tits and Seungcheol takes the opportunity to move his head,mouth sucking at your nipple making you lift your head in surprise as his thrusts continue. ”fuck! Gonna breed you so well, sweets. Gonna fill you up so much,nice and deep with my cum. Give you a kid, give you my kid”
His mouth got dirtier and dirtier and you couldn’t help but to respond to it ”fuck yes! Please! Give me another,w-want your kids cheol” his hand grabs your jaw and forces your head down,making you look at the bulge in your stomach from his cock,hitting your g-spot effortlessly. Your eyes were filled with tears as the second coil in your stomach tightened once more. Seungcheol speeds up, thrusts becoming a little sloppy as he nears his climax too. 
One particular hard and deep thrust has you seeing stars as you cum. Your body is exhausted as you lay down. Seungcheol keeps his thrusts going as your legs tremble, he grabs one of your legs and hooks it around his waist. All you could do was moan and shake. Not long after you feel Seungcheol come,spilling his release deep inside of you,filling you up. His hips continue to move,fucking all the cum back into you,not missing a single drop, not letting it go to waste.”there we go,keep it nice and deep for me sweets, do that for me” 
Seungcheol carefully slips out of you,you whine at the lost sensation. ”I know sweets, I know but we gotta clean you up. I'd love to stay inside you all night,but not tonight” he says that with a small pout as he toddles off to the bathroom, butt-ass naked as you couldn't help but stare. Admiring your husband’s ass and back muscles, also the tattoos that sit at the top of his neck. 
He comes back, coming over to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder. You squeal as he laughs carrying you over to the running bubble bath. He gently places you down on the floor,holding your waist as you steady yourself. You stare down at you like you're the only one in existence to him ”God, I'm so in love with you” Seungcheol leans down and kisses you gently before helping you into the bath,filled with bubbles of your favourite scent. 
”I love you too,Cheol. I swear on it. Till death do we part” you make space for him to get behind you in the bath as you relax onto his chest,interlocking your hands with his and resting them on your stomach. ”Maybe the girls will get a sibling after all” you say softly as the scent of the bubbles fill your nostrils and you almost fall asleep,being all exhausted due to the ‘session’ you and Seungcheol just had.
”I really do hope we have another little boy,but another girl wont be so bad. I've already got you,Darae,Cheon-sa and Kuma. i think and i pray to the universe that it will be a baby boy,hopefully,sweets”
A/N pt2: thank you to all those lovely people who have got my stories/imagines to over 200 likes, it's actually mental that it would happen but thank you. good night and good morning. I rlly hoped you enjoyed this piece of mine and more is incoming soon xoxo
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holdinbacksecrets · 3 months
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uninhibited (and drunk) voicemails from seventeen
forever sending gratitude and love to j @un-love for helping assign these
seungcheol: “i watched you tonight with another man. he held your hand and kissed your forehead. he drank your tea first to check the temperature. he made you laugh. for real. i know because you covered your mouth, still feeling insecure about how far it opens when the reaction can’t be avoided—when the something said was so funny it surprised you. you’re wearing red. your arms were exposed for a while, and i felt my eyes prick with tears at the sight of more tattoos on your skin. ones i didn’t know about. maybe ones you mentioned when they were still just possibilities in your head. not once did i think i wouldn’t see them actualized. not once did i imagine another man’s fingers brushing the ink through the motion of draping his jacket around your shoulders.”
jeonghan: “i’m at home and alone, and it’s wrong to call you. it’s so unfair to call you. i didn’t know how to tell you that the wanting is scary. that the way we love each other is impossible—not for a second do i believe it’s possible to have again, and i’m fucking afraid, probably because i know how much you’ve grown. the thought of letting you down leaves a sour taste, and i’m trying not to be so fucking afraid.”
joshua: “i’m sobering up now, sitting on my mom’s back porch. earlier, i was trying to describe the color of your hair. the best i could come up with was blue frosting like the cupcakes she made for my 10th birthday party. isn’t that outrageous? embarrassing? in my head was a poem, but the alcohol released the silliest set of words i could’ve possibly used to describe a part of you.”
jun: “everything is weird. everyone is strange to me today except for you. i’m drunk. i lost my shoes at some point in the night i think. i can’t recognize anyone around me. their voices don’t sound familiar. i wish you were here. i wish you’d tell me this is miserable for you too; it’s not worth it anymore. would you tell me the truth if i asked? sorry. what a stupid question. i don’t know anyone more honest.”
soonyoung: “i should’ve watched you all day more often. i dream about that. i wanted to, but something always had my attention or interrupted its focus on you. i’m laying here with my eyes closed, imagining all the moments i did watch and wondering if every single one pieced together could consume an entire day.”
wonwoo: “is it ok that i still have your spare key? i’d like to believe it’s something you’d ask to get back, but i wonder if that call isn’t worth making. if the idea of seeing me makes you anxious. but you trust me. out of everyone to still have access to your home, it’s ok that it’s me. i feel sad thinking about it.”
jihoon: “you baked cookies. i froze half of them. there’s one left, and i’m debating whether or not to eat it today. it’s freezing outside, and any view through my window is ruined by the snow. it feels like the perfect night for a cookie with what’s left of my second americano like i can risk losing sleep, but what will be left from you if i give in? everything else feels lifeless—it’s been so long since you’ve touch the clothes and read the books.”
seokmin: “i’m going to a wedding tomorrow. your old neighbor is getting married, and i thought about so many things when he sent me the invitation. i thought he was in love with you for the longest time. remember that? it took me months to admit. then he told me he’s just protective, and i realized there are so many people who see us and care without us ever knowing. so i wondered about a what if between us… what if our paths crossing was shallow and they never intertwined? what if you were just a woman in the grocery store who i’d see once in a while if the timing was right? how long would i think about you before forgetting your face, before forgetting i ever saw you? unless i never would and end up talking about you in my old age to adult children who only know i loved their mother.”
mingyu: “is it ok to call you in the middle of the night? you told me i could. years have passed since that conversation. *laughs* is it strange to think about us back then? how we started on a park bench, basically dated for two years on a park bench. i still think about how your approach to reach me gave away your feelings. you started poised, avoiding eye contact. then it became goofy looks and confident strides before calling my name and skipping to singing the song stuck in your head while you ran to me. i can’t help but wonder what would it look like now?”
minghao: “if you listen to this voicemail, can you tell me what you want? whatever comes to mind after hearing the question. from something small to something weird and the the thing you believe is better left unsaid as if i’d judge the answer, but i won’t. i have no reason to judge you. all i have is curiosity and love and hope for your every day, every want, every touch, every song you sing, every picture you hang, and every night spent barefoot on the balcony- i want to marry you.”
seungkwan: “there’s something on my mind. i’ve wanted to tell you all day. i thought about it at breakfast and started texting you before my manager called and interrupted. so here it is: i used to not understand how tired you’d be with me around. i thought i was boring you for the longest time until i visited my sisters. they exchanged a knowing smile before telling me you’re completely comfortable, that you feel safe enough to slip into the kind of vulnerability that only sleepiness and sleep allow, with your guard lowered, and your heart open. i appreciate how much of you i’ve seen, how deeply i know you—knew you… know you? hmm…”
hansol: “are you traveling? i hope you’re traveling. i know it’s something you promised to do at the start of your 26th year. where did you go? … are you taking lots of pictures? … how does the moon look? that’s your souvenir: the moon in the sky a thousand miles away from home. when you told me the moon thing, i realized i knew nothing about you, and i wanted to know everything.”
chan: “you were in the audience tonight? i didn’t… i wasn’t… thank you for coming. i mailed a ticket, but it was returned to sender. *clears throat* you’re the only person i couldn’t shake wanting to be there. do you know what i mean? people from our pasts we wish could still be present, especially for things they witnessed in early stages. i could shake off all the other absences… old friends, a mentor, but you… *sigh* no way.”
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bakugoushotwife · 8 months
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kinktober day seventeen: sex pollen kink
>>> god i love me some yuuta he is such a beautiful angel and deserves this! this started out as face-fucking kink but turned into this for storyline purposes LMFAOOO
>>> starring: yuuta okkotsu x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: sex pollen theme, pining, jealousy, face-fucking, oral (f!receiving) creampie, swallowing, doggy, headlock! oops!! >>> wc: 4.5k >>> event masterlist
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you two make a dynamic duo. this was evident after he joined the school, drawn to you inexplicably. you were bubbly, funny, beautiful, and immensely talented, and you were the first person to smile at him. you became fast friends, and if he wasn’t sent out with toge, he was sent out on missions with you—where he quickly learned that your technique is beautifully complimentary to his own. you confused him though. you were incredibly pretty—non-sorcerers and classmates from jujutsu tech and her sister school approached you all the time, and you always politely turned them down. all sweet smiles and your caring voice humming out, “oh, thank you—i’m flattered, really, just—focused on working!” 
you always were so kind, even if you had a good sense of sarcastic wit. yuuta got a taste of your spirited jokes and only grew more enamored with you, silently thanking the gods above for your gentle crushing of other men’s interests in you. but you never seemed too interested in him, hence why he was so confused when you glared at him and stomped away when he agreed to a date with maki zen’in during your third year. he didn’t realize that he was choosing something bigger at the time, deciding that if you weren’t into him he should try to move on—he should just focus on your friendship instead of all the boys throwing themselves at you and all the nights he spent wondering if you would give him a chance.
but things were never the same after that. you asked toge to take any mission you were sent on with yuuta, and you kept to yourself. panda was disappointed. he thought you would have fought for him, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself going after a man who didn’t want you back. you mostly stick to yourself, mingling with toge and some of your underclassmen when necessary. you run solo missions and spend your time in your room or training, all in an effort to avoid him entirely. you hated how weak the whole thing made you feel. you hated being jealous of maki, someone who had done nothing to you and had been a great friend; you hated being away from yuuta, but you knew it would be worse to stick around and pretend that you’re happy for him. 
he didn’t know he’d lose you completely. god knows he wouldn’t have tried this if he thought it meant you would stop sitting next to him in class and start sparring with toge during training instead. he missed you. you used to sneak into his dorm a few nights a week to watch movies and lay your head on his shoulder. you used to hint at your favorite boba until he got it for you on missions in the city. you used to use your curse copying technique to boost his own, paired with the increase in cursed energy output powering his; fights don’t feel like they used to, especially without your arrogant smile as you two dismantle yet another assignment in record time. it was awful, and everyone could tell that he was miserable. that’s why yuuta and maki’s relationship didn’t last much longer after the school year ends. he celebrates his birthday wondering if he should call you—and you spend the day typing and deleting a ‘happy birthday i miss you’ text. 
your final year of school starts, and you continue to debate with yourself over approaching him. it’s been months since you spoke, and you’re struggling to find the right words to say after all this time and distance. how could you explain yourself? ‘oh hey, sorry for dropping you, it was actually because you dated someone other than me.’ that’s hardly a convincing apology—and you don’t even know if he wants to see you. it had been a lonely several months without him, due to your own irrationality and instability, but still. you couldn’t bring yourself to stick around and yearn for him while he was in a relationship. now that he isn’t…things could be different. you decide to find him after you get settled into your dorm. you’re almost finished up, so you hurry out to grab the rest of your things. 
yuuta can’t stop looking for you. it’s your final move in day, and he has to see you. he wants to make sure everything will be okay between the two of you. he knows what room you’ll claim he just has to make the walk from the boys’ building to the girls’. he’s nervous to see you, but he’s excited, too. it all made sense to him now. you did have feelings for him after all, and he stomped all over them whenever he started dating maki. he understands why you distanced yourself even if it hurt him beyond words. but everything could be fixed now, he could admit the truth with the extra boost of confidence that understanding your absence gave him. he could make the first move with the reassurance, he actually cracks a little smile at the thought of your reconnection and acting on the feelings he’s tried to ignore for so long. 
then he sees you, and his smile spreads. he almost calls out your name, until he notices choso next to you, carrying what looks to be the remainder of your stuff towards your dorm. you seemed relaxed and cheerful, smiling softly and talking beside him as he nodded and gave the occasional grin to whatever you were saying. so this is what it felt like for you, then, huh? he supposed it was only a matter of time, every man you came across was charmed by you—and rightfully so. you must have finally decided to move on like he did, but it still feels like he’s been stabbed in the heart with a white hot blade. he’s standing on the sidewalk, rooted in place as choso opens the door for you even with the heavy stuff he’s carrying. you duck under his arm adorably, probably giggling out a thank you as you lead him to your bedroom. yuuta might be sick. 
but he has no place to. he did this to you, worse—in front of your face. at least you have no idea that he’s watching you. even as his heart crumbles in his chest and he does an about face back towards the boys’ dorms, he tries to make himself smile. he’ll be happy for you. this is all his fault. 
the rest of the day passes without you being able to find yuuta. you did run into choso while you were outside of your building. he and yuji were helping nobara out, but the former noticed you struggling to juggle all your things and offered to assist you too. you’ve worked with him before as well, so you didn’t think anything of it as you led him to your room to set everything down. you catch up with him for a bit and thank him for his help before you dismiss yourself in an effort to find your former best friend before curfew. it was a fruitless search. toge hadn’t seen him since he moved in, and panda still hadn’t arrived. he’d leave everything to the last minute. so with sadness settling in your gut, you return to your dorm and prepare for the first real day tomorrow. 
it’s no surprise that the first day means missions for the fourth years. yaga gives a whole spiel on how you all are adults now and all grade one or special grade sorcerers at this point in time. so he partnered toge and maki for a mission in nagoya, panda got a solo mission here in tokyo, and then he sent you and yuuta on a mission in osaka. 
his heart sank. there was no way he could get anyone to take his spot. he would be forced to walk alongside you and pretend he isn’t horribly depressed. you would mostly likely try to reconcile, and he missed you so horribly he would take you back in any vicinity. he wanted to fix things, to make things how they were supposed to be, and you’re supposed to be his girl. but what could he even do? maybe he would have you under his arm for this mission if he hadn’t been so brain dead. he can only blame himself, so yuuta extends the olive branch first. 
he waits for you at the gates. you can see the hilt of his sword as you round the top of the hill, and you swallow hard. you couldn’t help but think he was still avoiding you after looking for him for the better part of a day yesterday, so what would you say to him now? his grayish blue eyes meet yours, and you smile simply from the warmth that builds in your chest at the sight of him. he mirrors your smile easily, and it turns out you two can pick up right where you left off like nothing had ever happened. 
it’s relief. you were both so nervous that too much damage had been done. you wondered if the distance had grown so wide you couldn’t bridge the gap, and he could only think the same, but as soon as you joined his side, conversation flowed freely and laughter followed after. and even as the idea of you and choso nagged at his mind, he knew choso would never know you like he does. he would never fight alongside you so expertly, nor have all the history that the two of you have. if that’s all he’s got, then he can make it through this.  
the mission itself was a bit more of a struggle, for once. you blamed it on the fact you hadn’t coordinated attacks in months, but this grade one cursed spirit had way too many abilities and tactics to use against the two of you. you have the ability to copy cursed spirits techniques after they touch you, but it seemed as if this spirit had several different styles. they were spreading what appeared to be a fertilizer of some sort over the ground and walls, you couldn’t get close enough to it to touch, and you weren’t sure that copying this technique was going to be very helpful. 
“i’ll just boost your energy—we’ll have to fight the normal way.” you determine through a pant. none of your attacks had worked as planned so far. yuuta unsheaths his sword, chewing on the inside of his lip. he nods, seemingly analyzing the spirit and their dust to decide what he would do next. he surveys the abandoned ward of the hospital you were standing in, locating hiding spots.
“i’m going to sneak around, you try to keep it distracted?” he suggested, and you roll your eyes. it’s hardly a glorious plan, but you relent in it, letting him make the first moves would be more effective and decisive for the rest of the fight. he grins at your signature attitude, and jumps high into the sky. you chuckle at his showmanship, then run at the blob-looking cursed spirit with a whistle. you twirl your spear, watching as yuuta drops down in the dust behind it. his sword stabs through it a moment later, and you’re close enough to get your spear into the mix. at the impact, the spirit starts spitting out that powder, and you get a face full of it. 
you sputter and wipe at your face, trying to get it out of your eyes as you stumble back. the spirit laughs, while yuuta digs his sword into their flesh and tries to soothe your worries. 
“it’s harmless!” he calls out, yanking his sword out of its back and circling to the front to retrieve your spear. “just get it out—you’re okay!” 
the spirit laughs again, the glob-like substance melting into a pile as yuuta stabs it again, this time with the intent to exorcize it. “hardly, little woman!” the beast calls out in an automated croak. “cum is the only cure, female—you will die!” it laughs wildly, turning into a liquid under the pressure of yuuta’s energy. his eyes widen as you make a strangled noise of disbelief. 
you’re not sure if you’re blinking in shock or still recovering from its dust in your eyes, but you stumble back as it fully disappears. yuuta rushes to your side as soon as it’s over. you’re going to die? unless you…do something extremely lewd? he’s blushing deeply but it’s clearly out of concern for your life, of course. he’s disappointed in himself for letting you get affected. he imagined it had to get in the bloodstream to be effective since he was fine, but he could tell with one look at you that you were not. 
your eyes were heavily lidded, lips parted in a perfect pout as you stood on wobbly legs. you were covered in a thin layer of sweat, and he could see your hands pulling at your uniform—and your inner battle to get yourself to stop. he walks towards you, concerned beyond belief. you would die if he didn’t help, and you do look so intoxicating like this…
“don’t come any closer—please.” you choke out, feeling around behind you to find a wall to back yourself against. your entire body coursed with uncontrollable heat and need, your pussy throbbing painfully. everything was intensified, your heaving chest, the smell of the man you’ve wanted for years, and the searing lust he looked at you with. you started to shake, and he knew he couldn’t obey your command. “i can’t control myself right now, please, oh my god–” you whine out as his warm and slightly callused hands cup your hot cheeks. 
“you heard it…you’ll die..” he says softly, wide and concerned eyes searching yours. he wasn’t under the same pressure, but his heart was racing and his dick was hurting at the prospect of fucking his crush. his tongue darts out to wet his lips. he looks almost as nervous and needy as you do. “i just got you back—and i’m definitely not letting you die.” 
you’re insatiable, the touch only made your brain fuzzy and scream out for more, your hands reach up for his forearms, whining weakly as the connection doesn’t satisfy you at all. “oh yuuta–it hurts so bad.” you pout, the look you give him is so pathetic he almost whines with you. “h-help me, please~”
he nods and smashes his lips on yours. you let out an animalistic grunt in relief, throwing your body at him and taking the kiss from heated to dangerous, your teeth gnashing and tongue poking at his bottom lip to get even closer. he can’t help but contemplate the words of the curse, they simply said cum was the cure. does that mean his or yours? and where? he doesn’t mind trying everywhere. 
you pull back, but your arms stay around his neck, hands knitted in his soft locks. “my clothes–god it feels like i’m burning.” he gently pushes you off of him so he could help you find relief, popping the buttons on your top and letting out a shaky sigh at the sight of your breasts spilling over your bra. he snakes his hands around your back, slender fingers working quickly to unlatch the clasps. he does let out a little moan this time—your tits sag when your bra drops, and yuuta pushes all the fabric off your upper half and his hands knead at your chest instantly, causing you to wail and moan. he’s trying to be normal, but this is anything but. he’s spent many a night with his fist wrapped around his dick, thinking about the first time he would have you, but it never went like this. he’s hardly complaining though, you’re so sensitive and your noises are so pornographic he’s trying not to bust in his pants. 
“i’m gonna start crying–” you sniffle, none of his touches were satisfying you like you needed, it was getting unbearable. you were burning up and your pretty eyes were filling with tears of needy frustration. he whimpers at the sight and hurriedly peels his own clothes off, shaking his head in worry. 
“oh, don’t cry! i’m here—i’ll..i’ll make it better!” he nods, hooking his fingers under your skirt, shoving it to the perfect dip of your waist. he looks at your soaked panties, and his heart stops. he’s really going to do this, you aren’t even in your right mind—he can’t help but feel like he’s taking advantage of you. 
“yuuta–please, i want you so bad, need you!” you cry out, crumbling to your knees before him. you paw at his pants, untying his belt and yanking at the sides of his pants hungrily. he gasps at your desire. he was perfectly happy to please you only, wanting to save you more than anything—maybe other than this, you looking up at him with your lip between your teeth as his dick springs free, slapping against his stomach and making you moan out before you grab him. “fuck my mouth, okay–i need your cum, you heard it.” you sigh, eyes hazy with need as you lean in and kitten lick his pink tip.
his hand flies to your head, and he shudders just from that. you admire the sight of him, long and leaning to one side, cutely trimmed and a leaky slit meant just for you. “hope you didn’t let maki touch you—wanna feel all of it down my throat.” you rub your thighs together, fingers blindly playing with yourself to keep you from going insane. 
he blinks a bit at your profession of jealousy—and then he remembers choso. “aren’t you dating yuji’s brother?” he confronts, jutting himself forward a bit to see himself splayed along your perfect tongue. you huff at the accusation, brows furrowing as you shake your head. 
“never date anyone but you—” you confess, speech starting to slur. you aren’t able to think as clearly, all you can crave is his dick in your mouth, so you swallow him up. your nose tickles the dark patch of hair above his base, pretty teary eyes batting up at him as you moan around his cock. you want him to be rough? okay. he’ll do that for you–your life is on the line after all. he slides his hands to your cheeks as you work your way along him, up and down at such a sensual pace he’s a moaning mess like he’s affected by the technique. his noises only cause more of your own, his weighty tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag each time. he makes it worse when he decides to apply pressure, holding your head still and moving his hips instead. he fucks your face brutally, you didn’t think he had it in him. tears run down your face and gags and moans are all to be heard. he looks so good, brows set forward in focus and his pink lips parted to let his whimpers free. he tastes even better, and you think you cum when he does, his thick ropes hitting the same spot his dick was, but you swallow it all down anyway and lick your lips—waiting for more. he shudders, this was far too much for him to handle, he didn’t know how he could return to normal after this. 
“let me see you now.” he blurts out, sitting on his knees like you. he crawls closer to you, easing you to lay back on the floor. you’re not too good for it, especially not if it meant yuuta was going to make you feel better. you were frantic with need, spreading your legs as soon as you felt his touch to them, he sees your soaked panties again, and his semi perks all the way back up again. “can i take them off?” 
“fuck–please, yuuta, can’t take it anymore—put your mouth on me!” you call out his name so desperately he can’t help but wonder if you would be so slutty had someone else gone on this mission with you. the thought quickly disappears when he remembers your declaration, that you’d never wanted anyone but him, and he wants to ask if it’s true. surely he has time, you’re starting to look like pure sex and as bad as he wants to destroy you, he has to do so in good faith. 
“did you mean it—that you wouldn’t date anyone but me?” he asks, peeling your sloppy underwear away from your drenched cunt. you nod quickly, the cold air making you shiver with anticipation. you buck your hips toward him a little, still nodding. 
“why d’you think i stopped talkin’ to you? you chose her over me.” you pout, and he feels the guilt pang at his heart again as he picks your hips up off the floor, hooking his arms around your thighs. 
“it was a mistake–i didn’t know you wanted me–”
“i love you—don’t just want you–need you, pleaseee we’ll talk later!” you squirm in his grip and he snaps into it. your words push him to new heights, you love him. you love him and you need him more than anything, and god he would make sure you never regretted it. his tongue parts your lips and he grows ravenous immediately at the taste of you. he sucks at it, wanting as much of you on his taste buds as he could get. you mewl and pant immediately, bucking into his face and moaning at the way his nose collides with your clit. you can’t reach him with the angle he holds your hips at, helpless and only able to play with your own chest as he devours you. he slides his tongue inside you, groaning at how tight you are. he knows you’re going to squeeze his cock like a vice. you cry out his name in response, and it drives him crazy. white hot need flows through his veins and it's not enough to hear you. he needs to feel you cum in his mouth, feel you buck and writhe in his arms just like this–it makes him feel like the man you need. and the more you call his name, the more he believes he is. 
he tongue fucks you for a minute or two, just stroking your walls and tasting your insides. it makes you moan lowly, a purr almost, but when he slides his tongue up to your clit, your sounds turn higher, towards screams. it makes him feral, his teeth scrape against your hood and you lurch forward, whining to touch him. he makes out with your cunt, watching your face contort with pleasure. 
“i’m gonna cum for you, oh–yuuta!” you warn in a broken wail, and he moans against you, waiting for you to coat him in your juice. your legs clench around his head, shaking and jerking as your release hits you in waves. he works you through it, licking two fingers in preparation to work you open, but you shake your head. “please, please fuck me, can’t wait anymore–.” you press your legs to his face again, the need almost worse now that you’ve cum once. 
“it’s gonna hurt–” he winces, though the brain in his dick agrees with you wholeheartedly. 
“it already hurts—please, please, if you care about me at all, just..please!” you sigh out, thrashing in his arms as you plead. how could he deny you when you talk like that, especially if it will make you think he doesn’t care about you. 
“i care about you—i love you too, i–i’ll help you, i’m here.” he stammers around, lowering your legs to his hips. he angles his leaky cockhead against your hole, and your head falls back at the feeling and his confession. you nod, reaching for his hands that support your weight. 
“good—then fuck me like you love me.” you pant, your body so glorious and splayed wide just for him. he’s in heaven, and he can’t fight off his need any longer—especially if this was what you wanted, what you were begging him for. he fits his tip past your tight hole, sinking his length deeper in fluid strokes. you moan wantonly, and the sounds make his body tingle. you’re walking sex, he’s always thought that, but seeing you underneath him only confirmed your perfection. you nod your encouragement, even thrusting your hips up to meet him, and the pressure makes his eyes roll back. 
he fills you up like he was made to, squeezing between your walls and kissing your cervix once he’s in to the hilt. his fingers dig into your meaty hips, slamming your body down on him repeatedly until you’re both a mess of moans and sweat and heavy breathing. you squeeze down on him, mumbles of his name bless his ears and cause his dick to jump. 
he turns you over, hoping you can still support yourself on all fours. you shake, but hold yourself up, arching your back for him to slip his cock back in without a struggle. he faces no resistance, your juices dribble down your thighs and all around him, gurgling and squelching once he’s nestled inside. you moan at the new angle, only intensified by him laying over your back and catching your neck in his arm, adding support for your pathetic frame. he’s got you in a headlock, his hips driving into your round ass, the sounds of his gentle grunting sing in your ear. you’re so close, backing into him like you’ll never have the chance to fuck again–which he can assure you would not be the case. 
“yuuta–’m gonna cum ‘gain, gonna give yours to me?” you whine out, panting and struggling through your smooshed cheeks. he nods like you can see him, sweat dripping on your back. you massage him so well that he’s surprised he made it this long. 
“yes, i have to make sure you’ll be okay.” he sighs, stilling as a loud moan rips from his throat as he floods your insides, noting that he would have to buy a pill to make sure this didn’t turn into a lasting problem at your young adult age. it feels so good though, he doesn’t know how he would ever fuck you differently. you shiver, squeezing all the seed out of his cock as you come down from your own high. you slump forward, his arm was the only thing keeping you from face planting on the ground. he rubs gentle circles into your bruising hips as he catches his breath. 
“are you alright, does it feel better?” he quizzes, feeling himself go soft after several minutes of keeping you stuffed. “talk to me, i’m worried–”
“i’m great,” you giggle, feeling cum slide down your legs when he slips out of you, “better than ever. as long as that’s not a one time thing.” 
he leans over your back again, turning your head for a sweet kiss to your lips. “no, no. definitely not. sneak into my room tonight and i’ll make sure of it.”
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wintaerbaer · 5 months
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things we don’t say: part 5 (kth)
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banner credit: @itaeewon
summary: Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.
pairing: Taehyung x Reader (with some VERY brief Seokjin x Reader and Yoongi x Reader)
rating: 18+
genres: best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slow burn, angst, fluff, eventual smut
word count: 12.1k
chapter warnings: jeon jungkook, seventeen is here because i needed fill-ins (also they’re not singers but their music still canonically exists in-universe so good luck figuring that one out), a wedding!, tae is WHIPPED, the infamous butt debate, jealousy (plural), jimin has terrible timing, alcohol consumption ft. a drinking game, a mega cliffhanger i’m so sorry
a/n: while not required, i highly recommend reading the prequel drabble if you haven’t yet as it has some heavy relevance to this part and the next! special thanks to @btsborahaee and @jeonwiixard for beta-ing this chapter and letting me gush and brainstorm in their inboxes on the regular <3 also, shout outs to @animeniacss and @taegularities for sprinting with me all the time (and a forehead kiss to rid for coming up with the idea for the bathroom scene, mwah)!
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"After today, I never want to see a ribbon ever again."
Jimin fumbles his fingers over the thin string, throwing his hands up in a huff when the slippery material resists his efforts to tie it. With Hoseok and Sunny's wedding only two weeks away, you'd offered to help out with some of the prep work, and Taehyung suggested hosting a mini prep party at your apartment as part of his efforts to make new memories since you'd moved back. True to his word, he’s been at your place nearly every day the past few weeks, cooking dinner with you and rewatching your favorite shows from high school.
You have to admit it’s been pleasantly domestic.
"It's not that bad," you say, finishing off your own ribbon around one of the tiny boxes of chocolate which will be distributed to each of the two-hundred-plus guests as a wedding favor.
"No, I'm serious. I don't even want to tie my shoes anymore. I'm a Crocs guy now."
"I've heard girls love sport mode," Taehyung quietly teases. "Is that right, Y/N?"
The flirtatiousness of his tone startles you, and your eyes snap up to meet his where he sits across from you at the dining room table. He's smiling one of those mischievous grins that makes your stomach churn, belly lurching when he stuns you with a wink before turning back to his own tiny box.
What the fu—
"If any of you show up to my wedding in Crocs, I'm kicking you out," Sunny grumbles.
Hoseok smacks his lips as he ties off a ribbon. "Does that also go for—"
"You as well, yes."
Your group settles into a momentary silence at her declaration—not a sound besides the ripple of ribbon and paper. At least until—
“I got laid wearing Crocs once.”
The entire table groans in unison, and you toss a bit of balled up wrapping paper at Jungkook's chest that bounces pathetically to the floor as Jimin boos. “No one cares about your sexcapades, Kook.”
“What, it was impressive!” he argues. “Just be thankful I'm not bringing any of them to the wedding.”
“I almost wish you were,” Hoseok grumbles. “You'd better not be picking up anyone inappropriate that night. Sisters, cousins, aunts—”
“That was one time!”
“—and anyone else even remotely close to family are off limits.”
Jungkook is quiet for a long moment, pouting to himself, before he says, “Moms?”
The table boos again, more bits of wrapping paper flying his way.
“I'm kidding! Kidding!”
“Actually, Y/N,” Sunny murmurs, leaning towards you. “I hate to bring it up, but are you planning on bringing anyone else in Jace’s place?” Her expression is one of compassionate regret, with pursed lips and a furrowed brow, but the question still hits you low in your chest, knocking the wind out of you.
“I feel terrible asking,” she continues, “but one of my friends from high school originally declined a plus-one, and now she’s asking if there’s any way we can squeeze in this guy she met two weeks ago, and normally I’d tell her no, there’s no way I can change the head count two weeks out and who is this guy anyway, but then I figured that we do technically have an extra spot so we could fit him in, but I’d definitely give you the option to bring someone else first if you wa—“
“It’s fine,” you say, trying to ignore the way everyone else around the table is now looking on in sympathy. “I have no one else to bring. Let her guy come.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” It feels like you’re dying inside, but you try to look unbothered, especially since you can feel Taehyung’s eyes on you. “I don’t mind.”
“Okay,” Sunny quietly agrees, just as Hoseok suddenly jumps in at her side.
“You know, Tae isn’t bringing anyone to the wedding either,” he says, looking between the two of you. “Why don’t you just go together?”
“I’m also going alo—“ There’s a thump under the table and Jungkook immediately shuts his mouth.
You glance at Taehyung, who’s looking back at you with a dip in his eyebrows and parted lips. It was probably a given that you would spend time at the wedding hanging out already, but wouldn’t going together mean something else entirely? A promise of dancing and proximity and a label the two of you have never shared?
Perhaps that’s the reason why he’s staring at you with a touch of discomfort. Your own skin prickles at the thought, and so you scratch away the itch at your chin and deflect.
“That’s okay. We don’t have to.” Then you stand from the table sharply, hitting your limits with this conversation. “I’ll be right back.”
You head for the bathroom, not even needing to do anything in there, but sure that you can busy yourself for a few minutes to get your emotions under control away from your friends. But as you’re about to swing the door shut behind you, a large hand reaches out to stop it with a thud, and Taehyung quickly slips in before closing the door himself.
“Tae, what are you—“
“Come with me.”
You’re practically chest-to-chest, and if not for the fact that you’ve stopped breathing with his question, you’d probably be pressed up against him in the tight space.
“What?”
He licks his lips, pulls in air through his nose like he’s bracing himself.
“Come to the wedding with me.”
The room is heavy with silence as his request fully sinks in, the air between you thick and hot as you try to get some of it into your lungs. It’s hard, though, to develop a coherent thought with him standing so close—his scent engulfing you and dark, searching eyes fixated on your expression.
“I don’t kno—“ you begin, but he’s quick to cut you off.
“Why not? Like Hobi said, neither of us is bringing anyone already.” His fingers brush yours—an apology for mentioning it again. “So why not go together and…not be as alone.”
You shift on your feet. “But you do know that you don’t have to do this. I’m fine without a plus one. There’s no shame in it for me.”
“Y/N,” he huffs. “You know that I like being around you, right?” He nudges gently against the underside of your chin, making you look at him directly. “I wouldn’t have stuck around this long if I didn’t.”
You’re still skeptical—nervous about the implications of what this would look like, especially when you just got out of a relationship. To you, it feels very much like teasing a boundary. But Taehyung is all nerves in front of you, gaze darting up-and-down your face and a tiny pull at the corner of his mouth telling you that he’s chewing on his lip.
And of course, because it’s him, you cave.
“Okay.”
He beams and, not for the first time, you feel your chest lighten at the sight of his boxy smile. “Okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” you say, smiling back.
“Okay.” Almost impossibly, his grin gets even wider, and you can see the wheels begin to turn in his head. “Do you have a dress picked out yet? What color is it? I can match you.”
It takes you aback. You wouldn’t have even thought about that. “Emerald green.”
“Emerald green,” he repeats, something registering behind his eyes, and he licks his lips again. “Okay. Great.”
He shifts like he's getting ready to leave, but you catch his fingers to reel him back. And you hate to put it out there, hate to even bring it up, but after everything you’ve been through, you need the clarity.
“And Tae,” you say, “this isn’t a date, right?”
He gives a slow blink, a wave of unknown emotion rippling from forehead to chin before he smiles gently at you, eyes softening at the corners. “Of course not.”
You nod. “Okay.” And a small part of you feels…disappointed?
But there's no time to dwell on it as he exits the bathroom, and you follow him out in spite of doing exactly zero bathroom things. You return to the dining room together, your friends clearly trying to look nonchalant as they diligently work on their party favors but being way too quiet to not have been trying to eavesdrop on your conversation.
“Sunny,” Taehyung says as you take your seats, looking positively brighter. “Just make sure we're sitting next to each other, yeah?”
She snorts. “As if you were anywhere else to begin with.”
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Blue skies stretch endlessly in front of you, wind running through your hair and sunlight filtering in through the sunroof as you and Taehyung make the trip to the lakeside resort where Hoseok and Sunny are to be married. He's the absolute picture of relaxation in the driver's seat, wearing sunglasses and a mindless smile with his fingers wrapped delicately around the steering wheel like vines.
He'd opened the door for you when he picked you up, a seemingly spontaneous gesture that had left you both shy and blushing. But if the afternoon started with a touch of unusual awkwardness between you, the prospect of your “not a date” wedding date making itself known, it has since evaporated in the hot summer air. At this point, you’ve spent the past hour chatting, playing road trip games (Taehyung somehow destroying you in the alphabet game in spite of having to focus on driving), and burning through three boxes of Pepero.
“These are an addiction, I swear,” you say, crunching down on a chocolate-filled stick and clapping your hands in delight. Taehyung’s eyes leave the road for a second as he takes you in and grins.
“Was that the last of it?”
“Oh.” You peer into the box. Empty. “Yeah. Sorry. Did you want it?”
“No, it’s fine. You can have it.”
“I sure hope so since I already swallowed it.”
He laughs, whole face lighting up with it, and you feel something turn over behind your ribcage as if someone’s flipped your heart like a pancake. It makes you think that even though you were supposed to be making this trip with a different person, you’re glad it’s him instead.
My love only amounts to this.
The lyrics ring out through the car, and Taehyung leans forward suddenly, turning up the volume on the stereo.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s your favorite song!” he joyfully says. “I know you like to sing along.”
You stare at him blankly, taken aback because you don’t think you’ve ever mentioned this to him. When did he notice…?
“C’mon, sing with me. Play a song I know and one step. Hold my hands and put my feet in, two steps.”
His sweet baritone sounds out beside you, and you feel a grin break out across your face. You always forget what a joy it is to hear Taehyung sing.
“The person to know all my secrets is you,” you sing, joining along. “So I’m even more thankful.”
“Sometimes when you get tired, and I see you crying with your head down, I don't know what to do. What can I do?”
You’re both belting it out at the top of your lungs by the time it gets to the chorus, and you think the sun has somehow moved inside the car with how bright and warm you feel.
My love only amounts to this. But thank you for staying by my side, my baby.
Your car charges down the road, trailing laughter and joy in its wake, and your chest feels light for the first time in weeks.
Even if my love only amounts to this. I'll be your umbrella in the rain. I'll protect you on all your days.
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Jimin, Maya, and Jungkook meet you in the hotel lobby—a marble behemoth with wrought iron staircases and sofas that definitely cost more than your rent—and you all line up to check in, gawking at the elaborate chandelier that hangs above your heads.
“How did they even afford this place?” Jimin wonders.
Maya sucks her teeth. “At this rate? I think they might have mob ties.”
“Feet pics,” Jungkook says simply.
Once everyone has obtained their key cards, you set off to find your rooms. You’re all on the same floor since a certain section was booked specifically for the wedding, but with you having a room with only a single queen-sized bed, you’re down the hall and away from the others who booked doubles.
While Jimin, Maya, and Jungkook break off to get acclimated in their own respective rooms, Taehyung follows you into yours with a touch of melancholy, your luggage slung over his shoulder.
“Are you sure you’re fine here alone?” he asks, setting your bag on the ground. “I can room with you if you’d like. I’m sure Kook wouldn’t mind.”
“There’s only one bed,” you point out, blushing.
Taehyung also goes slightly pink. “Well yeah, but the other week we just…or I can take the couch. Or we can ask Kook to swap rooms?”
“It’s okay,” you say. “I’m alone at the apartment all the time anyway.”
He nods, looking oddly shot down. “Alright. But if you change your mind, just ask.”
“Unlikely,” you tease with a wrinkle of your nose. “You snore.”
He gasps, feigning hurt. “I do not.”
He doesn’t. But you still tilt your head solemnly, pressing your lips together as if preparing to deliver bad news. “You do.”
“Shit,” he sighs before the two of you break down in giggles.
A few hours later, the five of you wind up at the resort’s restaurant for dinner, lamenting the exorbitant prices but enjoying an incredible meal. The night dwindles down as you settle in at the bar, figuring you can have a couple drinks before resting up for tomorrow’s big day. With a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a perfect view of the lake outside and the glow of the sunset spreading out above the trees. It tints the room orange, seeping onto every surface, including Taehyung’s forearms resting atop the bar.
You trace his veins with your eyes, study the way they trail to his hands curled lightly around his low ball glass. Your friends are talking about plans for tomorrow, but you’re not paying much attention; you’re far more interested in trying to figure out when your best friend’s arms started looking like that.
“And don’t worry, Chim. If I have the chance to get lucky, I’ll make sure not to use our room,” Maya says, placing a hand over her heart in pledge. “No locking you out because I’m a good friend.”
But Jungkook has tensed up next to you, and in spite of the cute pout of his lips, the creasing of his forehead suggests that he’s genuinely upset. “Hook-up? You’re going to find a hook-up?”
Maya looks at him incredulously, drink paused halfway to her lips. “Possibly. Aren’t you?”
“I…” His teeth bite into his lip. “It’s a wedding.”
She barks out a devilish laugh. “So? When has that ever stopped you?” A spiteful glare is sent his way that even has you shrinking behind him in secondhand shame. “Since when do you have morals?”
Taehyung’s knee squeezes against yours under the bar—a warning, probably, but your brain momentarily becomes fixated on the weight of it, on how nice it feels to have his warmth pressed against you. It’s not until he taps a finger against your thigh, signaling with his eyes at the sullen man behind you, that you pass on the touch, giving Jungkook’s elbow a gentle nudge in support and encouragement. He takes a quick look at you with sad, vulnerable eyes, and you’re reminded of how flustered he’d been during your conversation a few weeks ago.
“I was actually thinking,” he begins, more serious than you’ve ever seen him, “that maybe we could go together since neither of us have dates.”
Maya snorts, setting her drink down firmly on the countertop. “Why, so you can ditch me halfway through for the first woman that flutters her eyelashes at you? No thanks.”
Jungkook physically recoils like he’s been slapped, the force sending him back so far that he practically winds up in your lap. “You really think I would do that?”
His voice is tiny, hurt dripping from every syllable, and it makes Maya finally look up, face dropping as she seems to realize the wounds she’s inflicted upon him.
Her brows draw together, and she opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by the bartender popping up to ask if anyone needs a refill. By the time he leaves, the moment’s passed, and Jungkook briskly stands up, throwing some money down on the bar.
“I’m done. See you guys tomorrow.” And he strides out towards the hotel lobby.
You hop to your feet, shaking your head at Maya. “That was uncalled for.”
She looks guilty but says nothing, rubbing a finger along the rim of her glass, and you follow Jungkook out, calling his name as he approaches the elevators.
“Jungkook!”
He spins to face you with a frown, thumbs hooked in his pants pockets like he’s trying to look casual, but his eyes betray his discomfort. “What?”
“She didn’t mean that,” you say, slightly breathless from your jog across the lobby. “I know she didn’t.”
“Sure she did. That’s who she is. Always speaks her mind.” He shrugs, shirt rippling over his shoulders. “It’s fine. I don’t care.”
“Don’t you though?” you ask. “You’re not a bad guy, Kook. You deserve simple respect at least.”
“Maybe I don’t.” The elevator dings, and he steps inside, turning back to you with a final sad smile. “Night, Y/N.”
A sense of dread taps into the back of your skull, fear that your original inkling on this relationship was perhaps correct. Though you’ve since warmed up to the idea of Maya and Jungkook as a potential couple, it was this exact tension that you were worried about—their fire and gasoline dynamic harboring implications that could blow up your entire friend group.
Taehyung strolls up next to you as the doors roll shut, sighing as he comes to a stop. “He okay?”
“No, but don’t try telling him that.”
He purses his lips. “I had a quick talk with Maya. Reminded her that just because she’s had bad experiences with guys in the past doesn’t give her the right to take it out on him.”
“Good,” you say. “She probably needed to hear it.”
A nod as he assesses your figure and asks, “Are you coming back to the bar? I already covered your tab.”
“Oh, I’ll pay you back—“
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “You can make it up to me a different time.”
You smirk at him, stepping closer. “How about I roll it into your Christmas present?”
“Deal.”
You let out a soft laugh, and he offers to walk you up, pressing the button to call the elevator back. The two of you chat about nothing in particular as you make your way to the third floor, commenting on the ridiculously patterned carpet in the halls and laughing about the strangely risqué photos that you noticed hanging in the rooms.
When you arrive at your door, you swipe your key card over the sensor, turning the light from red to green and wishing Taehyung goodnight, but he loops his fingers around your wrist to lightly tug you back.
“Y/N.” He curls his bottom lip over his teeth, head dipping towards the ground in a shy smile as he searches for his words. “I’m…really looking forward to tomorrow. It’s going to be fun.”
He’s adorable; he truly is. Seventeen years of affection, and he still finds ways to endear you to him even more, bits of gold from the lamps catching on the browns of his eyes as he stands before you.
“It is,” you say, tongue tied around your own apprehension. He hums and looks like he wants to say more—tangles his fingers in front of him and chews on his lip as he fidgets. But after a moment passes—you still stuck on his eyes—he jerks his chin down in a nod, says goodnight, and leaves you standing at your door in confusion, taking one look back as he swipes his own key card down the hall and disappears into his room.
You enter your own space with your mind whirling, not sure what the hell just happened but also sure that you’re not upset about it. And once you’ve gone through your bedtime routine and settled in for the night, you fall asleep thinking about brown eyes and shy smiles, welcoming the most restful sleep you’ve had in weeks.
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You awake to the sound of Maya knocking on your door promptly at 9am with her suitcase in hand, casually making her way to your bed when you let her in and picking up the hotel menu from the side table while you stare at her. "What are you doing?" "We are going to order room service and watch some shitty TV, and then I am going to help you get you ready for your date." "It's not a date," you say on impulse, though you're internally tamping down the involuntary flutter that's tickling your stomach. "If it's anything, it's a guy taking pity on his unexpectedly-single friend." "Pity date then." She says it with a nonchalant wave of her hand and doesn't give you the chance to speak when you open your mouth to protest. "Y/N, please, just give me the chance to make his jaw drop. If there really is nothing there like you say there is, then what's the harm?" The harm, you think to yourself, is the tingling feeling that's been increasing in intensity when you've been around Taehyung recently, warmth flooding your body at just the thought of him. Your brain has been desperately explaining it away, chalking it up to years of familiarity and comfort being stoked by the emotional trauma which (you're quick to remind yourself) you're still working through. No, Y/N, I don’t have feelings for you. It's these thoughts that, in the end, have you acquiescing as Maya lets out a joyful squeal. At the very least, you make your friend happy and get some well-deserved girl bonding time. Really, what's the harm?
The idea has barely finished running through your mind when you’re already beginning to regret it and wondering what the hell you just got yourself into. Maya wheels her entire suitcase to the foot of your bed and pulls out no less than seven bags of make-up, a curling iron, hairspray, four different brushes, and a straightener.
“Are you doing the entire wedding party after this?” you ask incredulously. “Why did you bring so much?”
“Needed to be ready for anything,” she says, organizing her tools into neat rows. “When I’m done with you, every straight man and half the women will be falling at your feet.”
Your face heats, and you subconsciously rub at your arm. “That’s really not necessary.”
“Okay, then just one man.” She raises her arms, fingers arranged into a square through which she peers at you like she’s sizing you up for a photograph. “Hmm, where should we start?”
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You and Maya make your way to the resort's event hall a little while before the ceremony is scheduled to begin. Seating doesn't seem to have opened yet as guests mill about the entryway, the buzz of conversation filling the space above your heads, and the two of you pause at the top of the stairs to see if you can spot your friends. "I think Kook's got a purple tie," she says, peering around. "And you know what he's wearing why?" you ask, but she ignores you. "Oh, look, there they are." Maya's goal may have been to get Taehyung's jaw to drop, but you're left stunned when you look over to where he's standing with Jimin and Jungkook, the now-familiar tingle rippling through your veins once again. His black suit is perfectly tailored, accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist, emerald green tie wrapped around his neck to match the color of your dress as promised. He's slicked his hair back and away from his eyes so you're able to see how they nervously dart between Jimin and Jungkook, clearly not listening to whatever it is they're enthusiastically saying. Actually, once you look more closely, everything about his body language screams nerves for some reason, his hands moving back and forth to play with the hems of his jacket before smoothing the lapels over and over again. Maya waves, grabbing Jimin's attention, and you watch as he grins at the two of you before leaning in to say something to Taehyung, pointing at where you're standing. Maybe, you think, just maybe you appreciate Maya's plan from this morning after Taehyung glances up at you. His incessantly-moving fingers finally still—halfway through re-adjusting his tie—and his perfect Cupid's-bow-lips pop open, eyes wide as he soaks you in in your floor-length gown. Maya’s worked your hair into loose curls cascading over your shoulders and bare back, and while you convinced her to not go wild with the make-up, she strong-armed you into agreeing to a deep red lipstick that’s only accentuated by the green of your dress. A smug cough comes from your right (clearly Maya's pleased with her work) as you descend the stairs and approach the trio of men. Jimin and Jungkook greet you brightly while Taehyung still looks mildly concussed, continuing to stare at you with his mouth half-open. "Alright there, Tae?" you ask, reaching up to adjust and smooth out his tie, messy from where his hands had frozen on it.
The pads of your fingers are hot where they brush against the hard muscle of his chest, and you try not to read too deeply into the pounding of his heart. Taehyung makes a weird noise akin to what you'd imagine a drowning fish would sound like, and Jungkook gives him a sharp slap on the back, which seems to knock him out of whatever trance he'd fallen into. "Incredible!" he blurts, and you almost want to laugh at the reset-button-like effect Jungkook's smack seems to have on him. He clears his throat, composing himself further. "I, um—you, I mean. You look incredible." You thank him, ignoring the second wave of smugness that comes from Maya's direction, just as the event staff open the doors and begin ushering guests into the hall. Taehyung offers you his arm, and you gladly take it as he guides you to sit alongside your friends.
The wedding hall is as grandiose as the rest of the hotel, with columns ornamenting the sides of the room and a massive flower arch constituting the altar. You all talk as you wait for the ceremony to begin, admiring the decor (the bright bouquets of red, purple, and blue flowers pop against the stark white of the venue) and trying to see if you recognize any of the guests.
“Oh, there’s Sunny’s cousin Chan,” Maya says, peering out over the room. “Remember we met him at that party one time?”
“Didn’t the two of you drunkenly make-out?” you ask.
Jimin frowns. “I thought they hooked up.”
“No, Y/N is right.” She fixes her hair, oblivious to the way Jungkook is now staring at the man in question, hackles raised. “Wouldn’t say no to that happening again; he was good with his hands. Tae, are you alright? You’re looking at Y/N like she’s sprouted four more arms.”
You swivel your head around to see Taehyung next to you, entirely flushed red above the shoulders. He licks his lips as he meets your eyes, blinking furiously like he’s trying to clear his thoughts. “Sorry, I spaced out.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.” Maya waves a dismissive hand, shuffling her attention to Jimin to ask if he knows about the music choices for the ceremony.
A throat clears on your right. “You do look nice. Really.” Taehyung looks utterly sheepish, his head tilted low as he softly pays you the compliment, and it reminds you of how shy he was last night as well. A butterfly takes flight in your chest, and now you’re the one blushing.
“Thank you. You cleaned up nicely, too,” you reply, and he blinks at you in a way that has you second guessing your words. “Not that you don’t always clean up nicely. And not that you don’t normally look very handsome. Because you do. Look very handsome, I mean. All the time.”
His bashfulness morphs into amusement, lips quirking up in an affectionate smile. “Oh, really?”
Your face heats up even more, mouth opening to respond with you don’t even know what, and you’re grateful when a hush falls over the room, the beginning notes of a wedding march signaling the ceremony’s start.
Hoseok appears first, looking dapper in a full tuxedo and grinning ear-to-ear. He walks down the aisle with long strides like he can’t possibly get to the end fast enough, bouncing on his toes as he settles into his spot.
The officiant is next, followed by Iseul and Seokmin, one of Hoseok’s childhood friends. Hana and Namjoon stroll in arm-in-arm after that, then Yumi and Jiho, and finally, everyone rises to their feet as Sunny appears at the entrance and begins her walk in, gaze finding only her groom.
Just as Sunny reaches the head of the aisle, a teary-eyed Hoseok taking her hands in his, another image, one which had once occupied your mind almost constantly but hadn't plagued you in weeks, takes hold: you and Jace in a similar setting, pledging forever to each other in front of your friends and family.
Maybe you had gotten ahead of yourself—the discovery of the ring box in his desk along with the natural longevity of your relationship sparking your imagination—but in the weeks leading up to your heartbreak, you had allowed your mind to plan—what kind of dress you'd wear, the colors you'd pick out, what you might say in your vows. It seems stupid now, dwelling on a future that's already evaporated into nothingness, but seeing the echoes of your dreams being played out in front of you, it’s like you can feel the sand physically slipping through your fingers.
Right as it starts to become too much, as you feel your chest tighten and heart ache, there's a brush of skin against the side of your hand, and glancing down, you see that Taehyung's reached over to quietly hook his pinky with yours. You turn to face him, but he keeps his eyes directed on the bride and groom, face neutral and unreadable, and you know he's giving you the chance to pull away, no questions asked.
But the gesture has warmth flooding through you, thawing the ice of your previous thoughts, and so you move to slip your hand under his, lacing your fingers and pressing your palms together tightly.
Taehyung looks at you then, a shy smile crinkling his eyes and twisting up the corners of his mouth, and you grin back, the previous ache in your chest replaced with a steady flutter as he begins to skim his thumb back and forth in a gentle caress.
You stay that way for the rest of the ceremony—watching your friends vow eternity to each other, Taehyung's hand tethered with yours.
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Classical music drifts from the speakers at the back of the room as you find your seats for the reception. The ballroom is tremendous, with tall, arched ceilings, a gorgeous chandelier, and a wide dance floor that you’re sure will see a ton of action later. With the tables seating eight, you see that you’ve been placed in a grouping of you, Taehyung, Maya, Jimin, Jungkook, and three of Hoseok’s medical school friends, who introduce themselves as Wonwoo, Joshua, and Mingyu.
Thankfully, your group hits it off immediately. Wonwoo is rather reserved, more an observer of those around him than anything, but Taehyung and Jimin quickly strike up a conversation with Joshua about college after the latter mentions having gone to the same school as you, albeit never crossing paths. Maya and Mingyu, meanwhile, immediately fall into their own introductions, talking about how they know Hoseok and Mingyu’s studies to become a doctor.
“If you ever need a headshot or something, let me know,” Maya says, laying a hand on his arm. Across the table, Jungkook's head shoots up. “I do work as a photographer and would be happy to help.”
“Oh, really?” Mingyu makes no move to remove her hand; if anything, he shifts even closer. “What are your rates?”
“For you? Free of charge. Any friend of Hoseok is a friend of mine.” They're in their own little bubble now, Jungkook watching wide-eyed. “Besides, you'd be doing me a favor. With a face like that, you're a photographer's dream. Perfect model.”
Mingyu smirks. “A face like what?”
“Dangerously handsome.”
“HEY, WHAT DO YOU GUYS WANT TO SPECIALIZE IN?”
Jungkook practically screams it, and not only do Maya and Mingyu turn to look at him in bewilderment, but so does the rest of the table and a few guests in the neighboring seats.
Joshua clears his throat awkwardly, eying Jungkook like he might be rabid. “I’m trying for pediatrics.”
“Surgery,” Wonwoo says.
Maya turns towards her new companion. “What about you, Mingyu?”
He leans back in his chair. Gives a light tug on his tie. “I have a residency lined up in obstetrics and gynecology.”
“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me—”
“Jungkook,” Taehyung says, cutting him off as he slides his chair back from the table. “Why don’t you help me get a round of drinks?”
“But—“
“C’mon.” He says it gently, like he’s trying to coax a toddler, and rises to his feet, giving you a gentle tap on the shoulder as he goes. “Cosmo?”
“Yes, please,” you say, and he nods, dropping a quick wink your way as Jungkook joins him, grumbling under his breath.
Joshua watches them walk away in the direction of the bar. “Is he always this…”
“Annoying?” Maya scoffs.
“Transparent.” Wonwoo quietly smirks.
A gentle laugh sounds on your left as Jimin hears. “I don’t know that anyone has ever described Jungkook as subtle in his life.”
Maya frowns, Mingyu looking downright perplexed at her side. “I don’t think I quite understand what’s going on,” he begins, but Maya soothes him with another press of her hand to his arm.
“Don’t worry about him. It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Tell me more about your residency.”
The reception passes in a swirl of music and drinks and food—and oh goodness, the food. Plates heaped with calamari, crab legs, and tiny filets wrapped in bacon are placed at the table by wait staff as your group digs in. Even Jungkook is placated, no longer scowling at Maya and Mingyu.
"Ughhh, I am never eating this well again," Jimin groans, stretching back in his chair and giving an exaggerated rub to his belly.
"You'd best get ready to," Taehyung says from your other side. "This isn't even dinner."
"This isn't even dinner?!"
Dinner turns out to be just as delicious and lavish as the appetizers, and it's no surprise that once dancing starts, your friends opt to stay seated for a while longer talking and digesting. As the party climbs to a full swing, Mingyu asks Maya to dance, Jimin and Jungkook start a debate on whether the butt is one body part or two, and Taehyung excuses himself to the restroom.
“It’s one part that’s split!” Jimin loudly exclaims. “The top is connected!”
“Jimin, go home, stand in front of the mirror, and pull your right ass cheek up. See if your left cheek comes up with it, and then get back to me, you absolute clown.”
“Do they do this a lot?” Joshua asks, the two idiots arguing between you.
“At least once a month.” You take a sip of your drink as you look on, bored. “I’m pretty sure this one is a rerun from last Halloween.”
“It’s one,” Wonwoo says, amused.
A flash of green catches your eye, and you look up to see Taehyung standing by the side of the bar, speaking with a woman. She's about your age, you think, and pretty, wearing a low-cut dress that certainly accentuates her chest.
She and Taehyung are talking excitedly, and you can tell he's putting the charm on—eyes bright, signature boxy smile lighting up his face. Nausea simmers in the pit of your stomach, and you force your attention back towards Jimin and Jungkook, trying to focus on whatever nonsense they're debating now.
This isn't a “date-date,” you remind yourself. And Taehyung hasn't had a relationship in a year—not since he was so torn up after Luna. He deserves to meet someone.
You’re spaced out next to your friends, still only halfway listening to them jabber on about butt cheeks, when a slow song starts up over the speakers and, within seconds, a hand is being extended over your shoulder.
You look up to find Taehyung's eyes gazing steadily down at you, a small but confident smile playing on his lips.
"Dance with me?"
And in spite of the unease that had plagued you only moments ago, you don't hesitate to let him wrap up your small hand in his large one and lead you to the dance floor. His palm settles on your lower back to pull you in close, and maybe it’s the proximity or the intoxicating smell of his cologne that weakens your resolve, but you find the words spilling out.
"Did you get her number?"
Taehyung looks at you quizzically, brow furrowing in confusion. "Whose?"
"The woman at the bar."
His face relaxes as he realizes. "Oh, yeah. I did."
"Good." You manage a smile. Why does it feel so hard? "It really is…good you're getting back out there. Are you going to ask her on a date?"
He laughs, mischief in his eyes. "I don't think her fiancé would like that." And now it's your turn to look confused.
"Her fiancé?"
"I met the two of them through Hoseok a couple times so we've chatted. Nice people." He nods his head, and you look over to see the woman now dancing with a man not too far from you. "They just got engaged, and she knows I'm a photographer so she asked if I'd be interested in doing the wedding. I said I'd call her this week to talk about it."
"Oh." You can feel your face flush, but there's no doubting the relief that floods through you. And Taehyung surely notices, grinning down at you in amusement.
"Were you jealous?"
"No!" you say, but perhaps a little too quickly because Taehyung laughs, his fingers applying a gentle pressure to your back to pull you closer.
"I'm here with you," he murmurs matter-of-factly.
You shake your head at him. "It's fine, Tae. If someone catches your eye…like I said, it could be good—"
"I'm here with you," he repeats, more firmly this time. He releases your hand for a moment to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, and you have to look away. You spot Hoseok and Sunny swaying together in the middle of the dance floor, pressed closely together and smiling at each other like they're the only two people in the world. What it must be like to have someone look at you like that, you think, to hold you like you're something precious to be cherished. You had thought Jace made you feel that way, but now, watching your friends gaze at each other so delicately, so in love, you're no longer sure he even came close.
"What are you looking at?" Taehyung's voice rouses you out of your thoughts, and you suddenly notice his hand has drifted a little higher to where the back of your dress dips down low, exposing your bare skin.
Trying to pass off the shiver that involuntarily runs through you as a nod, you gesture at the newly married couple. "They're so good together."
Taehyung follows your line of sight, watching Hoseok lean down to murmur something in Sunny's ear that makes her giggle and press her face into his chest. "They are."
"Can you imagine loving someone like that?" Your voice is a bare whisper as if the words slipped out on their own accord, like a wish you didn't even realize you were making.
Taehyung's fingers splay at your spine, gently tugging you in until your hips are bumping his. Startled, your eyes snap back to him, breath catching in your chest. He's gazing at you intently, but as opposed to the intense fire that you've seen from him at times, there's only a deep warmth to his brown irises that you're not sure you've ever seen before. He looks at you with softness, with both a sense of familiarity and wonder that can only be attributed to your many years of companionship, and you see it all swimming behind his eyes—every day spent together seeking refuge from your families, every stupid childhood fight, every time you comforted each other through the bad days. And before you can deflect, can explain away the question as a rhetorical slip of the tongue, you hear his answer come out on a breath.
"Yes."
There’s a weight to it, the word landing from his lips like a stone into water, and you suddenly forget where you are. The world around you fades away: faces, music, and noise all receding into the background until it’s just him and you, you and him.
Just like it’s always been.
Taehyung's head dips towards you as if pulled by gravity, and your body responds in turn, hand sliding from his shoulder to the hair at the nape of his neck and eyes fluttering shut. Your breaths mingle together, his nose lightly brushing against yours, and you find yourself on the brink of keening forward, on the brink of diving headfirst into a place of no return, when—
"Hey, we're going to step outside for some air. Do you guys wanna—oh."
You spring apart. Jimin is staring at the two of you, eyes so wide you're worried they might fall out of his head. His hand is still half-raised, pointing in the direction of the doors behind him, and you use this to make your escape.
"Yeah sounds good I'll come outside definitely," you babble before speeding towards the exit. Glancing back over your shoulder, you see Jimin say something animatedly to Taehyung, but the latter shakes his head and mumbles something back, his face pink.
The night air is cool on your skin, and you could not be more grateful for it because what the fuck was that?
Were you really about to kiss your best friend? Or was he going to kiss you? Things had certainly been…different between you two recently, but this surely would have been an awful idea. If something went wrong or there was a misunderstanding, you'd likely never be able to come back from it.
He said he doesn't have feelings for you.
…But do you have feelings for him?
Maybe yes, his smile has always set your heart alight unlike anything else and yes, your brain seems to have been lingering recently on how damn handsome he is and yes, you'd do anything for him at the drop of a hat—follow him anywhere—but given your history, of course you would, right? He's your best friend.
And he deserves to be more than a rebound. Because that's what this must be—lingering heartbreak amplified by the emotions of a wedding. You may have even imagined Taehyung leaning towards you, a desperate fantasy of a mind just wanting to be loved.
That's it, you decide. Your brain must have finally snapped into a world of delusion.
You're so caught up in your thoughts that you don't hear Jungkook approach you, practically jumping out of your skin when he places a gentle hand on your arm.
"Y/N—shit—you okay?" He looks at you with his big doe eyes wide and apologetic.
"Yeah," you say, as your racing heart begins to calm. "You just startled me."
"Sorry, I tried to call you, but I don't think you heard. We're back over there if you want to join us." He nods his head in the direction of a patio area behind him, and you spot Namjoon, Joshua, and Wonwoo sitting around a table next to an elegant fountain, its ornamental lights illuminating the magnificent swan sitting atop it. They’re all laughing and, for some reason, the sight makes your chest tighten.
"Um, maybe in a little bit. I think I might just need a walk right now."
Jungkook studies you, biting ever so slightly into his bottom lip, and you think you see something in the way of understanding behind his eyes (you wonder if it has anything to do with the notable absence of Maya and Mingyu). "Do you want company?"
When you just give him a small smile and shake your head, he nods.
"Okay, well…you know where to find us." He moves to rejoin the others, but then turns back towards you, taking easy steps on his heels. "And just shout if you need a friend."
You meander around the outside of the hotel, following the stone path that paves its way around the perimeter. There's a certain kind of peace out here. Though the summer is nearing its close, you can still hear crickets chirping in the grass and spot the occasional firefly dangling in the air. You focus on the swishing of the cars out on the main road and try to let the sound clear your mind, but as you settle on a short brick wall overlooking the property's enormous lake, you realize it's no use.
Your eyes drift closed as you sink into the grief once again, let it slowly overtake you like quicksand until your lungs are crushed and burning. But more than anything, you’re simply exhausted—perpetually drained by the demons which have once again arrived to feast on your psyche.
At this point, you think most of your frustration lies with yourself. Maybe you’re being overdramatic, maybe you should be over it by now—if only you were stronger, more resilient. Not the miserable pushover you feel you’ve turned out to be. Harsh? Yes. Unfair? Perhaps. This does feel like the breaking point in your life’s long line of abandonments, digging up feelings you haven’t felt since you were a child.
But that being said, it also makes you feel like you should be used to it by now. Should be used to having to bounce back—what else can you expect from the world at this point, really? What a fool you were to even think that this time would be different.
The sound of quiet footsteps has you opening your eyes again, and you’re not sure whether the man in front of you is the first or last person you want to see right now.
Taehyung has his hands in his pockets, watching you with that calculated expression he always has on when he’s trying to gauge your mood. But all you can see in his face on your end is concern, not a hint of awkwardness or trepidation after what just transpired between the two of you in the ballroom.
So it really must have been all in your head.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “Kook said you seemed upset.”
“I’m fine.” You try to push out a smile, but he unsurprisingly sees right through it, closing the gap between you and gesturing at the spot to your right.
“Mind if I sit?”
You’re still not entirely in the mood for company but you can’t bring yourself to say no to him, so you give the tiniest of nods and Taehyung settles on the wall next to you.
The two of you sit in silence for a bit, the buzz of the surrounding trees continuing its serenade. Taehyung doesn’t push, doesn’t say anything, only provides a steady presence. On particularly bad days when you were kids, you’d both wander down to the local playground and sit on the swings for a while. Sometimes you’d talk—either to rant and let it all out or make each other laugh to distract yourselves—but most nights, you’d just sit in the quiet and enjoy the feeling of not being alone.
It feels like that now, with Taehyung’s warmth radiating at your shoulder and the stars hanging above, but tonight, you’re compelled to speak.
“I’m really pathetic, huh?”
Taehyung’s eyes flash as he looks over at you, but he doesn’t interrupt, sensing you want to say more.
“I’m at my friends’ wedding, I’m supposed to be celebrating them and their love for each other, and instead I’m out here having a pity party.” You scoff. “It’s pathetic and selfish.”
“First of all, we are out here having a pity party,” Taehyung begins, and it draws a sudden laugh from you that you think sounds halfway deranged, but he only smiles.
"Secondly, you're not pathetic, and you're not selfish. You just went through a traumatic event, you know? You're allowed to have emotions."
"I know, but I just don't…want to," you sigh. "I just want it all to stop. I'm so tired of feeling weighed down especially on a day like this, but it's like it just doesn't end. The reminders don't end."
"You thought he'd be here," Taehyung says softly, and though his head nods slightly in understanding, his voice is tinged with sadness. "You miss him."
"I—that's not exactly it, no," you quickly say, not wanting him to think that you somehow regret being here with him. "Given what he did…like you’ve said, it's not forgivable, so it's not like I wish he was here. I mean, sure, are there some days where I reflexively think about him and stuff? Of course—we were together for four years—but I…still would prefer to never see him again."
Taehyung lets out a short sigh that you interpret as approval, but he stays quiet, giving you time to work out your thoughts.
"I think it's more the loss of security than anything. Seeing Hoseok and Sunny up at the alter…I couldn't help thinking that I was so, so close to that—to having that one person that I could commit to walking through life with. A partner, a friend, just someone to have day-in and day-out. Forever." You choke up, a fresh wave of tears lodging in your throat that you try to keep down. Taehyung is stiff next to you, staring down at his hands in his lap.
"And I want that, Tae. I want that so bad. But it's…so scary to start from scratch after feeling that close. I feel like I'm losing my mind. I'm just constantly overwhelmed and feel like I can't outrun it, and then I feel guilty on days like this because I shouldn't be letting it get to me, and—"
"Hey, hey, Y/N, shhhh." Taehyung finally jumps in as you begin to spiral, reaching out to take your hand in his. "You don't have to worry or feel guilty because you are going to have all of that. Okay? You will."
"You can't know that."
"I do." He slips his pinky around yours briefly before his hand comes up to cup your jaw, guiding your eyes to his. "I promise you. I don't know how far out it'll be, but one day we'll all be together again at a place like this, and it'll be your turn." He gets a faraway look in his eye, seemingly perceiving something that you're struggling to even grab a glimpse of right now. "It'll be everything you've ever dreamed of—intimate and outdoors, right? I know you always said growing up that you were going to get married at the Spring Day Gardens. If you still want it, it'll be yours."
You let his words draw you in, painting you a picture so beautiful you're afraid to even let your heart believe in it. But his baritone voice presses on.
"And it'll be perfect. Not a cloud in the sky—nothing but sunshine. And we'll all be there, and you'll have your favorite lily bouquet and your perfect dress…"
Something stops him, and he blinks at you, dropping his palm from your face and glancing away at the lights from the party before resuming his tale.
"And the guy…" He licks his lips, and you feel the hand that's still holding yours tighten ever so slightly. "He's going to love you so much. Properly love you. He's going to see you come down that aisle and weep because he's just going to know that he's the luckiest guy in the universe. And if he doesn't cry right away, I'll kick him in the shins up there until he does because in spite of what Jimin and Jungkook think, we all know that I'm actually your best man."
You let out a watery giggle, the tears flowing freely now, and Taehyung reaches up to swipe a few off your cheeks, letting out a chuckle of his own.
"I want to believe you," you say quietly. "And hopefully one day I will. I just…I need more time."
"Whatever you need, you know I'm here for you," he murmurs, and you nod.
You fall back into silence for a few moments, Taehyung dutifully continuing to hold your hand while you lightly sniffle and wipe at your cheeks.
"I don't know how I'm supposed to go back to the party like this—I think you ruined my make-up," you joke, trying to lighten the mood.
"Maybe, but you're the prettiest raccoon I've ever seen."
You laugh in earnest now, your shoulders shaking with it, and Taehyung smiles at you before suddenly rising to his feet.
"Wait here," he says, and then he's jogging back up towards the venue.
The silence envelops you again as you continue to mull over Taehyung's vision. Your battered heart is hesitant to dream, all of your imaginings coming in with fuzzy edges and blurry details that you just can't seem to place. But you're sure Taehyung was definitely right about one thing—you can't imagine a situation where you get married without him standing by your side.
It's a handful of minutes later when the man himself finally reappears with a hand behind his back and a mischievous smile on his face. When you raise your eyebrows at him in question, he comes to a halt in front of you and presents a full fifth of your favorite whiskey.
"What do you say we get out of here?"
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The dim hotel lights cast a soft glow about the room as you and Taehyung pass the bottle back and forth, the mood significantly more casual than the extravagant party you just ditched. The decor may be fancy—Hoseok and Sunny certainly didn’t skimp when it came to location—but the two of you are perfectly rumpled, stretched out on the expensive sheets: you having removed your make-up and changed into your pajamas and Taehyung propped up against the headboard with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his jacket and tie tossed over the couch.
You’ve started up a game of Truth or Drink, a somewhat milder version of Truth or Dare, where you get to take turns asking each other questions, and the respondent has the chance to either answer the question or take a mouthful of whiskey. Normally, between you and Taehyung, such a game would be low stakes, with your shared years and few secrets between you making it hard to ask challenging questions. But something about tonight and the need for a distraction seems to have made both of you competitive, going for questions that you know the other wouldn’t want to answer.
“What was the last thing you cried about?”
“One thing you don’t like about me?”
“Favorite position?”
“Did you really lose your virginity in a tree house?”
“What’s your greatest fear?”
"If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?"
"Oh God, one of those cupcakes from Sweet Night Bakery," you groan. It was a place you had passed every day on the way to school, the wafting scents of cookies and cakes playing pied piper to your youthful noses. You had always dreamed of one day being able to afford the expensive pastries but had fled your hometown before having the adult money to do so.
"Seriously? Anything in the world and you want a cupcake?" Taehyung laughs, pink tongue poking out from behind his teeth.
"It's not just anything, it's one of my life's dreams," you counter, playfully shaking a fist at him for emphasis, but Taehyung seems unconvinced. "Fine then, if you have such a good answer. Same question."
He tilts his head at you, a mild haze in his eyes that tells you that while he's not drunk-drunk, he's definitely tipsy. A beat passes and he takes a drink.
"Ooh, mysterious," you slur. "But I win."
"Alright, alright." He grins at you. "I concede to your sugary dreams."
You mirror his smile, observe the way his fingers curl in his lap as you try to think of your next question. He’s always had nice hands—so delicate and careful with everything he touches. It’s odd, you think, how such gentleness could emerge from a home and upbringing that was anything but. How someone as bright as Taehyung could come from such darkness.
“Do you want kids one day?”
The question takes him by surprise when you ask it, and he physically startles, turning the bottle in his hands slowly. “I don’t know. Why?” He looks at you then, and you feel like you can see a riddle being worked out in his head. “Where did that question come from?”
“I don’t know,” you echo. “You spent so much time earlier imagining a future for me. I realized that we’ve never really talked about what you want for yourself outside of your career.”
Growing up, you’d discussed your dreams for the future, of course. But while you have always skewed towards the romantic, envisioning rings and weddings and vows, Taehyung’s always been much more practical and career-oriented—his plans always involved degrees and promotions and retirement funds.
A beat passes as he continues to fidget with the whiskey bottle before he again says, “I’m really not sure.”
“Well think about it now,” you challenge. “Or drink up.”
He chuckles to himself, some private joke in his head. “It would terrify me, I think. But I’d love them with everything I’ve got. Want to give them everything I didn’t have and be better than my parents were.”
You hum in agreement; you’ve had the same thoughts on occasion. Some who grew up in your situation may have been turned off the idea of children—and the idea does scare you in certain respects—but you’ve always been stubborn. “It’d be a chance to prove that it doesn’t have to be that hard. That you didn’t deserve what you went through.”
Fingers graze against yours in a subtle show of kinship. As always, you understand each other. “Exactly.”
And he may be struggling to imagine it, but you can see it so clearly: a small boy with big, brown eyes and a boxy smile riding on Taehyung’s shoulders. The two of them playing in the sand at the beach house or walking down the street together—the boy’s tiny hand tucked safely in his father’s.
The image chokes you up, fills you with so much warmth you think you might burst.
“You’d be an amazing father, Tae.”
There’s not a single doubt in your mind about it—that this incredible, thoughtful, selfless man would also be a wonderful dad. He doesn’t look so sure, but a flicker of recognition passes through him.
“You’ve said that to me once before,” he murmurs.
“I did?”
A nod. “One time when you were drunk junior year.”
You don’t remember it, the memory lost to the alcohol. “I guess drunk me has flashes of brilliance.”
“Maybe we’ll see someday.”
“I hope we will.”
Suddenly nervous, he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing in the long column of his neck. “But it’d have to be with the right person.”
“Has there ever been anyone who you thought was close?”
He raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re asking a disproportionate amount of questions.”
Reaching over, you pull the bottle from his hands, drink down a mouthful of burning liquor, and set it right back in his lap. “Answer.”
Wide eyes appraise you through the dim light; he looks almost impressed. “No.”
“No, there’s never been someone you could see a future with, or no, you won’t answer?”
“The first one,” he says. “I’ve never been with someone I could imagine having kids with.”
You frown, the blunt despondence in his tone cutting. “Not even Luna?”
A look is thrown your way—pursed lips and creased brow telling you that’s a stupid question.
“What happened with her?”
He scoffs, lips immediately wrapping around the bottle as he takes a gulp.
“So something did happen.”
“We broke up,” he states. “That’s what happened.”
“Yeah, but you’ve never said why.”
He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. As if you’ve just asked him what he wants for dinner and not why the longest relationship of his life ended. “We weren’t compatible.”
You can’t help but sigh, a small part of you hurt that he still refuses to talk about it, that he’s closed this part of himself off to you. “You don’t trust me?”
“Y/N, no.” He shakes his head, looking genuinely remorseful to have given you that impression. “That’s not it. It’s just…impossibly complicated—“
“Was it me?” You’re suddenly reminded of a conversation with Maya from weeks ago, when she’d suggested that you were the reason all of Taehyung’s relationships had failed.
His lips part, tongue pushing into his cheek like he’s trying to hold words back.
“It was, wasn’t it?” you push, and his teeth dig into his tongue now, chewing. “You can tell me. I can handle i—“
“You were part of it, yes.”
In spite of what you’ve just said, the words land like a blow. You’ve spent years watching him go through breakup after breakup, and now you find out that you were a source of that anguish all along—helped fuel that heartbreak in his life.
It pains you to think you’ve been holding him back.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” you whisper.
“Because there was nothing to tell. It didn’t matter.”
“It does matter, Tae. If I’m getting in the way of your relationships…I want you to be happy.”
“You make me happy.”
That silences you, the sincerity in his voice leaving you blinking at him, and he continues.
“She didn’t like how close we are—most of them haven’t. But it doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, I’ll always choose you. And that’s the end of it. Nothing left to tell.”
You feel like you should protest this, insist on him putting himself and his future first.
But given similar circumstances, wouldn’t you do the same for him?
“Did Jace ever give you shit about us?” he asks, reading your mind.
He had, ranting about Taehyung that night in some fucked up attempt to explain away why you’d found him in bed with another woman. Before then, you hadn’t noticed the signs: hadn’t picked up on his reluctance to spend time with your friends, hadn’t read into the way he stuck close to your side on the rare occasions he did, a possessive arm always tight around your waist.
It all made sense afterwards, and you hate that the vulnerability and anguish of the moment made you question your own actions. You never would’ve shut Taehyung out—never in a million years—but it initially made you think that maybe if you’d been more attentive towards Jace, had been more sensitive to his feelings, that maybe you wouldn’t have wound up in the situation you did.
You recognize now that he didn’t deserve it in the end, obviously, but heartbreak is a funny thing.
Not wanting to have to admit to any of that out loud, you whisk the bottle from Taehyung’s hands again and drink. He watches the movement of your throat with heavy, knowing eyes, immediately taking the whiskey back for his own sip once you’ve finished.
“I must admit,” he says, the alcohol clearly loosening his tongue as he sags against the headboard. “I’m a little relieved about things ending for you and Jace. Aside from him being a certified douchebag, I mean.”
You frown, not sure where he’s going with this, and the look on your face must come across as offense because he’s quick to clarify.
“Not that I liked seeing you hurt.” He shakes his head, and you can see some anger at the situation still lingering under the surface. “No, never. But I just…now I get to keep you longer at least.”
“Keep me?”
“Yeah, this…” He wags a finger between you. “You know this has to end one day, right?”
The whiskey should be warming, but your veins fill with ice at his words. Losing Jace was one thing. Losing Taehyung would be a different matter entirely.
“You’re always going to have me,” you say, reaching for his pinky.
But he pulls his hand away.
“Not like this.” He smiles with what you assume to be intended comfort, but his entire demeanor is tainted with sadness. “One day, when you have the dream guy and the family and the white picket fence, there won’t be room for me. Not like this.”
It feels like earlier—him trying to paint you a picture of a possible future for you—but unlike earlier, you can’t picture this future. You don’t want it. Not if he’s not there.
“Tae—“
“It’s okay, Y/N.” He gives another sad smile, takes another drink. “No husband is going to want a third wheel hanging around. I understand. I want you to be happy, too.”
But you wouldn’t be happy without him, and in many ways, you’ve always known that to be true. But that knowledge hits you now with such force, such raw truth, that it renders you speechless and leaves you staring at him, drunken eyes laser-focused as if discovering the very center of the universe.
You want to challenge him on his statement, make him see that he’s wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. But the alcohol muddles your thoughts, has your brain dropping half-formed sentences through your mind like Scrabble pieces that you can’t quite wrangle into a coherent thought.
Taehyung takes your silence for agreement and, seeming to suddenly realize that some kind of line has just been crossed, takes the quiet opportunity to flip the conversation back to your game.
“The shoes you gave me for my seventeenth birthday,” he begins, the words tipping out slow and oddly calculated for someone who’s had as much to drink as he has. “Where did the money come from?”
You know where he’s going with this. And it’s perhaps the only secret you’ve kept from him in the entirety of your friendship. “Christmas money, I told you.”
“No, really.”
“Why don’t you believe me?”
“I never saw that house decorated for Christmas even once.”
“Could’ve been from an aunt or uncle.”
“But it wasn’t, was it?”
It wasn’t. You snuck the money out of your father’s desk one day knowing that he wouldn’t have even noticed it was missing. Absent-minded in everything aside from work, your father had misplaced things constantly. You drink. And even though it’s supposed to be an avoidance of the question, it gives him his answer.
“I knew it.”
“They weren’t going to miss it, and you needed it more.”
“You could’ve gotten in so much trouble.”
“I knew I wouldn’t. I didn’t. And it was worth the risk regardless.”
Looking back, you wish you’d had more of a fear of getting caught—wish your parents would’ve scolded you, screamed at you, anything. It would’ve been better than the indifference you’d been met with day in and day out. As if you were invisible.
Taehyung’s head swings from side-to-side. “You shouldn’t have. I would’ve been okay.”
“And you shouldn’t have punched Jace in that club, but you did anyway, didn’t you?”
“That’s different.”
“It’s not. You’re not the only one who gets to put your ass on the line for the people you care about. You were worth the risk.”
He blinks, regarding you as if you’ve presented him with some outlandish concept. Like you’ve asked him to explain rocket science or open-heart surgery. “Then you should’ve told me then.”
“You would’ve given them back.”
“Maybe, but then at least we would’ve been in it together instead of you lying to me.”
“And you’ve never lied to me?”
He hesitates, tongue tracing his bottom lip. “No.”
“Okay, then. Truth or drink: what’s the worst lie you’ve ever told?”
You know there must be one, can read it in the way his shoulder is suddenly pressed against yours as he tilts into you. Fingertips skim the bare skin of your knee, tentative in their movements, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath as the distance between you closes to mere centimeters, his gaze roaming your face and snagging on your mouth.
And you feel it—the pull that you’ve always felt towards him, the gravitational force that’s kept you in the same orbit since you were children. Two souls that intertwined the moment they sensed the other’s presence with a flash of awareness and said, You, you, you.
Thinking back on the entirety of your life, you don’t know how you possibly could have made it through without him: your best friend, your partner, your sanctuary. In such a volatile world—a turbulent youth marred by uncertainty and sorrow—he took your hand and held you steady, made sure you didn’t go through it alone.
In hindsight, you can’t truly regret it. Yes, there will always be a part of you that will resent your parents, wish that they would have loved you enough to spare you the hurt and stress they put you through. But just like the night when he brought you back to your apartment—held you close as you fell asleep in his embrace—your memories with him far outweigh the trauma you endured. When you think of your time spent growing up, he is by far the brightest star, outshining any darkness that may have lingered at the corners. It’s not the empty house or your parents’ stony faces that you think of first, but him: blanket forts and starry nights and walks in the park and blurry photographs and sometimes tears, sure, but only with him there to hold you.
Looking at this man in front of you, in every familiar line of his face and body, you know, without a crumb of doubt, that you’d do it all again. Screw Jace and Luna and your parents and anyone else who’s expressed disdain at your closeness with him. He’s written into every line of your history, every memory that’s worth something. And he may fight you on it, but he’s worth every risk you’ve ever taken—you would’ve stolen a thousand pairs of shoes for him. You’d move mountains and drain the oceans if he needed you to. You’d do anything.
You couldn’t live without him. You don’t want to live without him.
A moment of clarity, a wave of revelation as you lock eyes and are met with your favorite color. And at long last, you find the words.
I love you.
Your heart throws itself off a cliff…
And you lean in to press your lips to his.
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NEXT
a/n: happy holidays to all who celebrate 😊
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hunnylagoon · 6 days
Text
𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐔𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥
Chapter One: Be Nice To Me
The Last of Us AU
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I barely remember my own name for I am no longer human enough to have one.
Premise: The flames of the campfire fizzled out entirely while Ellie Williams was unknowingly enduring what was the beginning of the end. Following short after, Ellie begins to develop unnatural tendencies that terrify both her and Joel, leaving the two of them to learn what it means to no longer be human.
Warnings: violence / gore if you squint / upcoming angst / weird ass behaviour
I’ve got boulders on my shoulders, collarbones begin to crack. There is very little left of me and it’s never coming back.
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Jackson was a small town with little to do if you were a teenager, so the seventeen-year-old residents favoured a drive to Cindersnap forest just on the outskirts to chug back beer and complain every little thing that nipped at their minds. The night sky was so clear that you could count every star, and the air was filled with the scent of pine and the earthy aroma of the forest.
These yearly camping trips shifted in nature when Jesse and Dina got together. Ellie appreciated that they would let her tag along with them but she couldn't help the slight bitterness that crept into her thoughts when she watched the two of them whisper and giggle in hushed tones. It was no different around a campfire than in the school cafeteria or the back of her geography class.
Jesse's playlist hummed softly through an old speaker while Dina stood up, plunging her hand into the cooler to pull out a can of the shittiest beer they could find. "Guys, watch," She spoke, calling the attention over to herself before she punctured a small hole into the bottom of the beer can, cracked the top open and chugged. Dina was far from loving the flavour but drank nonetheless until beer dribbled down her chin and onto her bright red hoodie. 
"Was that meant to be impressive?" Ellie asked but she couldn't fight the smile on her face.
"Yeah, because you can out-drink the shotgun queen," Dina sunk back into her foldable lawn chair, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Who gave you that title?" Jesse looked to his right to face his girlfriend.
"Sarah McKinnon, April twenty-third," She announced, very matter of factly.
"Didn't realize we were carbon dating," Ellie pushed herself off the log she had been perched on for the last hour while she stared across the fire pit at her two friends through flames the colour of tangerine. "Alright, shotgun queen," She teased Dina, grabbing a beer from the cooler and holding her hand out for the pocket knife "I fear this is the day you get dethroned."
She sucked a sharp breath through her teeth, reaching into the pocket of her hoodie for the blade "I fear you are very mistaken."
Jesse raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You sure you can handle it, Williams?"
Ellie shot him a defiant look, popping the can and preparing to pierce it with the pocket knife. As she positioned the knife, the metal gave way too quickly, and the blade slipped past the can, cutting into her palm. "Fuck," She hissed in pain but simply switched the hand holding the beer can, wiping her bloody laceration onto her denim shorts. 
"Jeez," Dina said, a crease forming between her brows as she watched the blood soak into Ellie's shorts "Might wanna back down."
Ellie ignored her and sunk the blade into the can which sprayed its foamy contents into the fire before she quickly stopped the eruption by attaching her lips to the puncture and guzzling it back, tilting her head upwards to the moon. She crushed the empty can in her hand, smiling victoriously. "What do we think?" She asked "New queen?"
"Debatable, one of us cut their hand open and the other is perfectly intact," Dina held out her palm, expectantly "I'm taking away your knife privileges for the night, you are still permitted to drink beer like a regular human."
"Jesse?" Ellie looked toward the drowsy man, he pulled his hood over his head and leaned back with his arms crossed.
"I hate to say it Dina's got a pretty strong argument," 
"Wow," Ellie drew out "Not a shred of honesty around here."
"Please enlighten me," Dina says, leaning forward, elbows propped on her knees "How was butchering yourself better than my perfect chug?"
She was nearly offended that she had to explain herself "Uh, because I'm gonna have a sick ass scar and I cut myself and kept going."
"That was pretty badass," Jesse nodded.
"Yeah, sure," Dina scoffed though her tone was light-hearted "I expect you to write me an apology song for getting blood on my knife but I'll also accept gift cards."
"Too bad I will not be doing either of those things," Ellie wrapped her flannel higher around her body. She held her bleeding hand out in front of her, watching the red liquid pool out and drip down.
Jesse caught onto this small act "Does it hurt?"
"Nah," Ellie looked up at the pair, flyaways had fallen out from her ponytail and framed her freckled face "I should probably call it a night though." She could feel eyes on her as she rose to her feet, awkwardly holding her hand out so she didn't wreck her clothes further. Part of her wanted to stay up until the morning light hung overhead but the more rational half of her brain kindly reminded her that the last time she was tipsy by a fire she lit the cuffs of her pyjama pants on fire and had to endure the jokes to that very day.
"Goodnight," Jesse readjusted in his chair, tugging on his hoodie strings to tighten the hood clinging around his head.
"Night, Els," Dina gave her a little smile, scootching her chair closer to Jesse.
It would've been nice if they thought ahead enough to bring bandaids but alas, Ellie had to pour some water from her plastic bottle over it and let the cut encrust with a scab. Though the campsite was barren that night, usually, she could hear the sounds of families and couples chatting amongst themselves but then it had only been crickets chirping between blades of grass and the distant sound of her two friends laughing.
It wasn't rocket science to remember where they pitched their tents, it was the same every time they visited the sight: right next to the wood-splitting block, a red axe wedged in the center for whoever needed to cut firewood. 
She paused, her senses sharpening. The habitual sounds of crickets and rustling leaves seemed to have stilled. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as if responding to an unseen presence. Ellie turned her head slowly, scanning the darkness. She couldn't shake the feeling that eyes were on her, watching from the concealment of the trees.
Without waiting another beat, Ellie ducked into her tent, bright yellow and a stark contrast to the black one that Dina and Jesse would be sharing. That was another thing she hadn't been fond of when the couple started dating, they used to share one big tent to simply sleep under the stars but now that they were separated Ellie was still kept awake by the pair's constant flow of conversation.
Ellie didn't bother to change out of her flannel, all she did was take her bloodied shorts off and slip into a pair of clean sweatpants. She wasn't one to be neurotic over what she wore, especially when she was camping and the only ones to behold her were the beedy eyes of animals. 
She lay in her sleeping bag, nestled within the comforting embrace of her tent, a duffle bag propped under her head as a makeshift pillow. The day had been long and filled with hours of roaming around the woods and eating smoked hotdogs by the lake. As the night dragged on, Ellie's weariness grew, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Despite her unease, sleep eventually claimed her, and she drifted into a fitful slumber.
It was nearby rustling that had woken her. She heard it then, pounding against the beaten dirt ground, at first Ellie had assumed it to be either Jesse or Dina until she checked her phone and saw the time read two thirty-seven am. Looking at the thin walls of her tent she was searching for the warm surge of light peaking through that signalled her two friends were still at the fire though all that shone was dim moonlight, no sign the pair were even in the vicinity.
A low, menacing snarl, so deep it reverberated through her bones. The sound was close, too close. Her breath hitched, and her heart pounded in her chest. She could barely make out the shape of something moving just beyond the circle of light cast by the moonlight, a hulking shadow blending into the darkness and dancing on the canvas of her tent. 
With the sound of a guttural growl, her heart lurched in her chest. Fear shot through her veins like ice as she realized she was no longer alone in the darkness of her tent. She scrambled to sit up, her hand instinctively reaching for the zipper to flee, but before she could even make a move, a massive weight crashed into her. A muzzle with jagged black rotting gums tore through the yellow polyester tent.
Pain exploded in her thigh as sharp teeth sank into her flesh, tearing through fabric and skin alike. Ellie screamed, her voice drowned out by the ferocious growls of the creature attacking her. She fought back desperately, kicking and flailing, but its grip was unrelenting, its strength overwhelming.
Through the haze of agony and panic, Ellie caught a glimpse of yellow eyes gleaming in the darkness, filled with primal hunger and fury. It was a wolf, its fur matted and stained the colour of a rusted penny with dried and crusted blood, a creature driven by instinct and desperation. It was unsettlingly large, it’s haunches muscular.
It had felt like every part of her leg was torn apart, fangs clamping down in a new spot every time to get a good grasp of its prey. It was like someone was using a dull axe to butcher her, an axe so dull you had to muster up all of your brute force to make an impact and whoever was wielding the axe wasn't a skilled woodsman, their cuts were messy and they never landed in the same spot. Ellie was sure this would be it for her, dead in the Cindersnap forest, her remains never to be found, discarded in her ruin of a tent until animals picked apart her dead carcass. 
Her mind raced, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she fought for her life. She clawed at the ground as the wolf began to drag her away from the tattered wreckage, her nails leaving marks on the ground as cried out. She could feel her strength waning, her vision blurring as darkness threatened to consume her.
Just when she was ready to end her thrashing and let herself be eaten alive, a flurry of movement and shouts echoed from nearby. Through the haze of pain, Ellie heard Jesse and Dina's voices, their cries filled with fear and urgency. They had heard her screams, and now they were screaming themselves. 
Jesse didn't wait another second before he pulled the red axe from the wood-splitting block, he raised it over his head as he had practiced for years of cutting logs and brought it down onto the spine. The wolf let out a yelp, its body contracting, teeth scraping over Ellie's calf as it turned its attention to Jesse. 
He didn't want to take the risk that it would take its turn at him or Dina, so he swung again, hitting it in the neck. Jesse's grip had slipped from the handle, letting the axe sink into the neck, the wolf staggered and whined. It growled low for a few moments that stretched into eternity until its abnormally large body collapsed on the ground over the top of Ellie. She could hear its ragged breath, see the life slipping from its amber eyes as its sanguine blood pooled over her. 
Everyone waited for the animal to go limp but it just writhed there until Jesse used his foot to repeatedly kick the beast until it rolled off Ellie, he pulled the axe out and swung again, this time it fell flaccid, with no more unsteady rise in its chest. Just stillness.
"What the fuck!" Dina shouts, her arms thrown out in front of her in exasperation, eyes pulled wide by the terror before her.
Dina ducked down, hooking one of Ellie's arms around her, urging Jesse to grab his car keys from his bag. In a short amount of time, both of them were on either side of her, supporting Ellie while they practically hauled her to Jesse's truck, leaving everything behind.
Both Dina and Jesse were speaking affirmation into her ears, trying to reassure her that this memory would long pass them but everything just rang in her head, mind going numb. 
She couldn't focus on anything other than the bloody mass that consumed her leg. Long serrated wounds and sunken teeth markings lined all the way up her leg, from the scrapes on her thigh to the flab of flesh on her calf that was being held together only by tendons. She finally released the sob that was building in her throat, it was like every awful thing she had ever felt was seeping through the gaps of her teeth. 
Looking down at her clothes soaked in blood that wasn't one hundred percent hers and clung to her body she saw her future slipping away. The soccer scholarships she had put everything towards gone in the span of the few minutes that it took the wolf to maul her.
They reached the car, and Jesse opened the back door while Dina carefully eased Ellie into the seat, trying to keep pressure on her wounds. Blood stained the seats, but that was the least of their concerns. Jesse jumped into the driver's seat, starting the engine with shaking hands. Dina climbed in beside Ellie, never taking her eyes off her friend and gently caressing her head with wiry hands intended to soothe.
Inside her head, thoughts rang through like bullets, each coming faster and more panicked than the last. She couldn't look at Dina or the street lights gliding past them, it was just Ellie staring at her near mangled leg. She couldn't even hear her heart beat like it was a prisoner to her rib cage. She closed her eyes, clamping them and trying to wake up from this terribly painful nightmare but there it was burned into the forefront of her brain, the wolf with rotten gums and jagged teeth digging into her leg and peering into her head with those loathsome yellow eyes. 
"Ellie?"
Ellie groaned and blinked several times, trying to get her eyes to readjust to the stark light flooding into her bedroom from the hallway. It had been three days since the mauling and Ellie was more than happy to seclude herself so she could avoid those pitiful stares from the public.
Joel stopped in the doorway as his eyes hit the darkness of the room. The first sign that something was really wrong was just how dark it was. There were blankets up over the windows, blocking out any trace of daylight that might be able to bleed its way in. In the blackness, as his eyes adjusted, he could see her in the middle of her bed, blankets pulled to her neck despite the warm weather, facing away from him, staring at nothing.
"Kiddo, are you sure you don't want me to take the day off?" He furrowed his eyebrows, studying the limp figure of his daughter. She had been in the exact same position when he came into her room the night before.
"Yes."
His eyes shifted to the plate of food he had left on her dresser last night before he went back to the dining table to eat his dinner alone. The pasta was untouched, the sauce became gelatinous, and everything in the bowl just stuck together as one thing. With a disgruntled sigh, Joel took the cold bowl of pasta and replaced it with warm French toast and a little side of syrup. "Ellie, you gotta eat something."
"Okay." She had been saying that for the last three days, agreeing with whatever Joel asked of her without actually doing it. This included showering, her auburn hair was greasy and unkept in a ponytail. The gauze wrapped around her leg and tucked beneath the splint was beginning to smell like vinegar.  "I mean it," He said firmly "It doesn't gotta be this breakfast, you can go downstairs and get something from the fridge or ask Dina to bring some takeout, maybe Tommy and Maria could come over and cook ya something. Some sunlight wouldn't hurt either."
"Okay," Ellie repeated, voice mellow. Had there been another source of noise in the room Joel wouldn't have heard her at all.
The animosity simmers for a minute while Joel regards her with fretful eyes "Is it the painkillers?" He asked "Or the antibiotics? We can try a smaller dosage."
The figure on the bed looks lifeless, had she not spoken to him moments prior, Joel would've assumed the worst. She only been released from the hospital the morning before and she had spent her entire time back home staring at her wall like a blood-sniffing shark.
"I can't sleep," She said, voice flat. "I'm so tired and I can't sleep."
"Do you want me to grab some melatonin?" 
"No."
"Maybe if you got out of bed for a bit it would tire you out."
"Please just go away."
Joel pressed his lips into a thin line, lowering his chin in the slightest "I'm gonna head out now, just thought I'd come to say hi," He waited a moment for Ellie to respond then waited another, accepting the stillness he spoke again "I'll be home at three, maybe we can cook dinner together."
"I just want to sleep."
"Alright," He turned "I'll let ya sleep."
It had been seventy-six hours since Ellie last slept, a moment before she was dragged out of her tent and chewed up like gum between a heavy jaw. She had spent the first two days gazing up at the obscenely bright hospital ceiling, the lights burned her retinas but she couldn't look away. 
In the hospital, she had refused to eat when the nurses insisted she had thrown up her guts and they decided that a drip feed would be mandatory. If only she could sleep or drink. The insomnia was worse than the thirst. It was driving her mad. It had been days, full, entire days since she had slept.
 She was afraid to look in the mirror or at the camera of her phone because she had an idea of the gaunt face that would be looking back at her and the vague idea mortified her. 
On the fourth night from the mauling, something had begun to seethe inside of Ellie, she shot up, drenched in sweat. Her body felt as if it were on fire, a searing heat coursing through her veins. She threw off her blankets in a desperate attempt to cool down, but the air in her room was no relief. The heat radiating through her body was so intense it felt like there were bugs crawling beneath her skin, burrowing and laying their eggs before they chewed their way out. 
She stumbled out of bed, her legs shaky and weak, barely supporting her weight. Her skin felt raw and tender, the sensation unbearable. Instinctively, she began to scratch, her nails digging into her arms, trying to soothe the burning that seemed to radiate from within. The throbbing pain from her leg had been subdued by the fire burning beneath her skin.
Ellie began to scrape the skin on her forearms, followed by her neck, torso and legs, everything was stinging with this scolding sensation. She had gashed at her skin frantically, twisting her body and clawing at it in an attempt to make it stop, all that this did was turn her skin red and leave nail marks across it. 
Summoning all her strength, Ellie crawled to the bathroom. She pulled herself up to the sink, using the counter for support, and then, with determination for this to end, she stumbled into the shower.
She turned the handle to the coldest setting and, without a second thought, stepped under the icy spray, fully clothed. The shock of the cold water took her breath away, but it also brought immediate relief. The burning sensation began to fade as the cold water soaked through her clothes, cooling her fevered skin.
Ellie leaned against the tiled wall, letting the cold water wash over her. Her breath came in ragged gasps, but she felt her body temperature slowly beginning to drop. The pain and burning subsided to a dull ache, and for the first time in what felt like hours, she could think clearly. 
Without meaning to she let out a choked cry, hands running down her face while she looked down at her body. The splint was now soaked with ice water and the red scratch marks covering almost every inch of bare skin visible. 
Ellie stood there, her mind foggy and overwhelmed by the fever. She had no idea what was happening to her body, why it was betraying her in such a painful way. The room spun around her, shadows dancing on the walls, and she fought to stay conscious, fearing what might happen if she let go. Suddenly the concept of sleep was feeling very frightening.
On the fifth night, Ellie had hobbled her way down the stairs, splint dragging behind her after Joel had told her he was worried and went to bed. She was driving herself insane, she could hear her own heartbeat and the wet squelch of her blinking pounding in her ears.
Her thoughts often returned to the shotgun in the shed. She craved death in the same way she used to crave a Gatorade at a track meet. She was loyal to her numbness like a penny in the pocket of a priest. 
She hadn't before thought about killing herself, not until she had been kept awake for five days by the image of glowing amber eyes ripping her apart. Something was most definitely wrong with her body. She knew the very second she looked in the mirror, past her baggy clothes her collarbones had jutted out and her ribcage was prominent beneath freckled skin. How her spine grated against everything she laid across would have almost any other person in a ward.
Joel's casual steps in the hallway had morphed in her ears to the sound of heavy boots stomping on sheets of metal. The night was preferable to the day when children would run through the streets and throw water balloons at each other on neighbours' lawns. Each screeching laugh she heard brought her closer to hammering nails into her ears just so she could avoid those little sounds.
It didn't help that she could smell everything too. Joel's morning coffee was usually the scent that kept her awake staring at the ceiling followed by all of his wallflowers which she had taken the liberty of unplugging and hiding in the shed next to the shotgun. She had also sniffed out her almost ancient body sprays from middle school and thrown them out, it had taken her minutes to source out the smell that was burning in her nose.
What brought her downstairs that night had been her appetite, intense and sinking. She was sure hunger would have killed her. Five days of an empty stomach that rejected everything she put into it ended with a brief shaking moment where she was filled with an insatiable craving that hit her all at once like a thousand knives to the gut.  
During one of Joel's daily checkups, he informed her that he bought ribeye steaks and suggested they have a mini barbeque with Tommy and Maria but Ellie did little more than sink further into the mattress where she had rotted. It was clear with every passing second that something was deeply wrong with Ellie at first she chalked it up to side effects from all the anti-biotics and painkillers and insisted to Joel that was the only issue but with her smell and hearing overwhelmingly strong she was sure the problem was something more unnatural. 
The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silvery light through the kitchen window. Ellie stood at the stove, the sizzle of the steak in the cast-iron skillet filling the quiet house. The aroma of searing meat was intoxicating, stirring a deep, hunger within her. She tried to ignore the gnawing craving that had plagued her since the transformation, but tonight it was particularly strong.
The house was quiet, but her senses, now heightened beyond the norm, picked up the smallest sounds. She could hear the soft creak of the house settling, the distant hum of a car engine on the road, and something else—something closer.
Her ears twitched at the faint sound of soft footsteps outside. She focused, and the noise became clearer. Tiny, deliberate steps on the wooden porch, accompanied by a rapid, almost fluttering heartbeat. A cat.
On the patio, she could hear the neighbour's overweight calico cat, Fudge. He favoured the Miller household on the nights the Andersons fell asleep before letting him inside. She could hear his little paws padding up the wooden steps and then find his perch on the rails of the patio that Joel renovated himself, they were sturdy enough to support the pudgy cat. 
She turned her attention to meticulously seasoning the steak, her movements precise and controlled, a desperate attempt to hold on to the rational part of her. As the meat cooked, she watched it intently, the marbling of fat melting into the rich, red flesh. The scents were overwhelming, and she swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure. She stood right in front of it, counting down the seconds she had to cook it.
Compared to Joel, Ellie was awful at cooking meat. He prided himself on his barbeque skills, one of his most valued possessions was his meat smoker and the thoughts of warm July days, sitting on the back porch and eating whatever Joel had cooked made her eyes gloss over with craving. 
After a few minutes, Ellie flipped the steak, listening to the satisfying crackle as it hit the hot pan. Her mouth watered, and her senses were alive with the sounds and smells of cooking. She focused on the task, grounding herself in the familiar routine, hoping it would keep the feeling at bay.
Once the steak was perfectly cooked to a rare finish, she plated it carefully, adding a simple garnish of herbs for no other reason besides she thought it looked fancy. She carried the plate to the dining table, her steps measured and deliberate. She wanted to eat like she used to, to enjoy a meal with dignity and grace, but the primal hunger was a constant, roaring presence in the back of her mind.
Ellie sat down, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She cut the first piece of steak, the juices running onto the plate, and brought it to her lips. The taste was incredible, a burst of flavour that seemed to ignite every nerve in her body. She closed her eyes, savouring it, trying to hold on to this semblance of normalcy.
But with each bite, the hunger grew stronger. It was a living thing, a beast clawing its way to the surface. Her hands trembled as she cut another piece, the silverware clinking loudly against the plate. Her entire body shook as she raised another piece to her mouth, eyes focused on the slab of meat with an untamed desire. 
Unable to resist any longer, Ellie dropped the fork and knife. She reached for the steak with her bare hands, the warm meat pulsing in her grip. She brought it to her mouth, tearing into it with a ferocity that shocked her. Juices ran down her chin, and she barely noticed, lost in the primal act of feeding.
She devoured the steak, her senses overwhelmed by the taste, the texture, and the sheer satisfaction of fulfilling her deepest hunger. It was messy, undignified, and utterly freeing.
When the steak was gone, Ellie sat back, her breathing heavy, her hands and face smeared with the remnants of her meal, juices from her bloody steak dripping down her arms and chin. She bordered between a mix of shame and relief.
Ellie stared down at her empty plate. She was sick. Sick with the hole in her stomach that screamed at her for more, slowly it began to grow.
She rose from the table, her movements now driven by instinct rather than conscious thought. Crossing the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator door, the cold air washing over her. Her eyes scanned the contents hungrily. There, in the pull out meat drawer, were several packets of lunch meat. She grabbed the first one, ripping it open with ease. It was roast beef, and she shoved slices into her mouth, barely chewing before swallowing. The taste was salty, a little too salty yet she still choked it back.
Next, she pulled out a packet of pepperoni, her fingers working frantically to tear it open. The rich, spicy scent hit her nose, making her mouth water. She devoured the entire pack in seconds, the flavours bursting on her tongue, she discarded the plastic packaging on the floor. She reached for more, tearing through packages of ham and turkey, ripping them open effortlessly with her teeth, the cold cuts vanishing almost as quickly as she could open them.
But even after consuming all the lunch meat, she wasn't near satiated. Her gaze fell upon a package of raw chicken breasts. A part of her recoiled at the thought, but the urge overrode any hesitation. She snatched the package, ripping it open, the raw meat cool and slick in her hands. She brought a piece to her mouth, hesitating only for a moment before biting into it. The taste was different, raw and unseasoned, it was delicious.
Ellie ate piece after piece, the raw chicken disappearing into her ravenous maw. She didn't understand the compulsion, the gnawing hunger that drove her to this. The raw meat was smooth and slippery against her teeth, leaving a small coating of gel on her lips. The sensation was alien and unnerving, yet she couldn't stop herself from biting down.
When the last piece was gone, she stood in the dim light of the open refrigerator, her breathing ragged, as she stared at the empty meat drawer. 
She walked to the sink and began to wash her hands and face, the cold water a shock against her skin, grounding her once more in the reality of her situation. She watched as the water ran red, the remnants of her raw feast swirling down the drain. When she was clean, she dried her hands and looked at her reflection in the kitchen window, the moonlight casting her features in a pale glow. The mess she had made, juice from animal carcasses dribbling down her chin and her pale green eyes seemingly brighter than ever. 
Ellie wanted to be terrified by her actions but the truth was that it was the leading cause for her to finally fall asleep when her head hit the pillow. It was also the reason why she woke up the next morning feeling amazing. 
She was up even before Joel. After wrapping her splint in a plastic bag to keep it dry, she stepped into the shower, letting warm water run over her skin. The last few days she felt too weak to even carry her own weight and now she could see the muscle of her skin like she had just gone for a run and they were still burning.
Closing her eyes she gently washed away at the grease of her scalp with her head and shoulders shampoo and scrubbed at her skin with body wash until the smell of the previous night's binge was gone completely. 
For a few minutes, she felt almost at peace until she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Last night's rampage had been undeniably weird but she kept coming up with new excuses for her behaviour. With extensive googling she found out she wasn't the only one to crave meat so intensely, it was a symptom of malnutrition and while she knew that couldn't be it she tried to accept the coverup to repeat to herself. 
Using her forearm, she wiped the steam from the mirror. She looked at her reflection, expecting to see the familiar face she'd always known. But something was different. She leaned closer, frowning at the sight of her eyes, which seemed to have strange, golden flecks over her usually pale green iris. Shaking her head, she dismissed it as a trick of the light.
She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste, eager to complete her morning routine. As she squeezed the toothpaste onto the brush, she caught a glimpse of her teeth in the mirror. She paused, her heart skipping a beat. Her teeth looked sharper and more prominent.
Ellie dropped the toothbrush into the sink, her eyebrows furrowed as she brought unsteady hands up to her mouth. She ran her fingers over her teeth, feeling the unmistakable points of her canines, now lengthened into fangs. It wasn't real, it couldn't be. Maybe her teeth had always looked like that. She pressed her finger into the canine until it drew blood. 
A wave of panic washed over her. She opened her mouth wider, examining the fangs from different angles. They were not the teeth of a human—they were the teeth of a predator. 
It felt like her blood had run cold. Maybe she was turning into a vampire, she remembered watching those corny series about teen girls sprouting fangs and drinking blood. There were werewolves, she had been bitten by a feral beast and barely escaped with her life. 
She never even believed in myths and legends, it felt all too ridiculous to even consider the possibility. 
Ellie hurriedly pulled on clean clothes, the shock of seeing her fangs still reverberating through her mind. Determined, she went downstairs and perched herself at the dining table. She sat hunched over with her phone out in front of her, an absurd amount of unanswered texts that she didn't plan on responding to. Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard. What was she even looking for? Strange teeth growth? Uncontrollable hunger?
She took a deep breath and started with a simple search: 'sudden appearance of fangs'
The results were varied and mostly unhelpful—articles on dental anomalies, vampire fiction, fang cosmetic procedures, teeth shaving, and clickbait about dental surgery gone wrong. Ellie scrolled past these, her frustration mounting. 
She tried another search: 'uncontrollable hunger for raw meat'
This search yielded more unusual results. Articles about rare medical conditions and eating disorders that favoured odd cravings. But also folklore and myths about creatures that fed on raw flesh. She clicked on a few links, her eyes scanning quickly over the text.
One phrase kept popping up: 'lycanthropy.' Her heart pounded as she typed the word into the search bar.
Pages upon pages of information about werewolves appeared. She read through them, her disbelief battling with the mounting evidence. Accounts of transformations triggered by bites, the phases of the moon influencing behaviour, the insatiable hunger for raw meat—all of it sounded disturbingly familiar.
She stumbled onto forums full of people discussing what they would do if they were a werewolf, how they transformed and who would they kill. There were others posting about their favourite horror movies based on werewolves, an entire article about Remus Lupin. She hesitated, then searched for 'werewolf bite symptoms' There wasn't anything useful that she had read. 
All she had were three of dozens of symptoms. Ellie didn't have weird hair growth, super strength, claws, or abnormal aggression. Typing in werewolves onto Google she was met with a subreddit full of discussion. Ellie began writing out her issue, ready to air her weird behaviour to equally weird strangers on the internet who might offer up some answers. 
astronautical: I think I might be a werewolf- Okay, I know I sound really fucking stupid saying that but please just listen to me. Last week I was on a camping trip and was pulled out of my tent and mauled by a wolf, the first three days in the hospital they had to drip feed me because I wouldn't eat and when I got home it was more or less the same. I didn't sleep since the attack until last night after I binge-ate raw meat and dead ass when I woke up my canines were fangs. A couple nights ago I had a weird hot flash kinda thing but I'm far from menopause, it was like my skin was on fire. My hearing and smell is crazy strong, like I can hear the heartbeat of my neighbour's cat. Can someone please tell me if they have experience with werewolf stuff or if there's another medical issue this could point to? I'm not crazy, I swear. 
xHexical: honestly sounds like rabies 
hunnylagoon: bro thinks they're teen wolf 
cocoah00ves: This could be purely psychological. A lot of times animal attacks can cause trauma even if you don't realize it. PTSD can put you on edge which could be why you're hearing and sense of smell seem to be very strong, trouble sleeping and lack of appetite are other symptoms. If you really restricted food for a few days then your body was likely suffering from iron deficiency and was telling you to eat meat. The heat flash could've been caused by your injury and enunciated by your mental state. As for the canines, hallucination, your teeth are not as sharp as you think they are. 
zylez: Mate you have rabies 
aggravating_olive_38: I wish this was real bc it would be sick asf
littlethought63: This that girl from Wyoming? 
schumber: You mentioned a lack of sleep and that might be causing you to spiral a bit. Take some sleeping pills and mellow out. 
dazednaware: I think it's a PTSD response :( try therapy 
     mcwhoremick-responding to dazednaware: try getting some dick you dumb cunt
          dazednaware-responding to mcwhoremick: ???
multifandomtrash258: friendly reminder this subreddit is intended for discussion of werewolves, not fictional stories or roleplay accounts
With an exasperated groan, Ellie turned her phone off and put it face down on the table just as she heard Joel thumping down the stairs. She felt like her brain had rotten entirely, there was no way she had seriously considered that she was a werewolf.
"Wow," Joel said, one hand up his gray t-shirt and scratching his back "You're up."
"Yeah," She tried for a smile but it still came across as melancholic, it was hardly a smile just lips pressed together in a thin line that carried the ghost of one.
"Well-uh, ya' want breakfast?" He asks in a beeline for the coffee maker, pulling out a mug from the cupboard which reads 'Worlds greatest farter (I mean father)' Ellie thought the corniness of it was hilarious and gifted it to him just a month earlier on Father's Day.
"Sure, if you make bacon." 
Joel was a little taken aback that she was finally accepting the invitation to breakfast. He was shocked that she even had an appetite albeit thankful "Sure, kid." He left his mug beneath the coffee maker, as he waited for it to fill he went into the fridge to retrieve the bacon. He opened the fridge, his brow furrowing in confusion as he scanned the shelves. "Ellie, where did that chicken go?"
Ellie's heart skipped a beat, panic rising in her chest. She hadn't thought about the consequences of her meat-eating binge the night before. "Um, yeah, I got pretty hungry last night," She kept her voice as nonchalant as possible. 
"You ate all of it?" His eyebrows furrowed slightly, newly mourning the loss of his forty-dollar pack of chicken. 
"Yup," She was just thankful he hadn't noticed the missing steak and lack of lunch meat. 
 "I'm glad you're eating but Jesus Christ girl," he muttered "Next time don't eat us outta house and home."
Joel expertly flipped the bacon in the skillet, the sizzle of fat hitting the hot surface and filling the kitchen with a mouthwatering aroma. The savoury scent drifted through the air, tempting Ellie's senses as she watched her father work his culinary magic. The smell of the bacon worked to conceal the stench of coffee that Ellie despised. "How many pieces do you want?" He asked her.
She craned her neck up to look at the bacon frying on the pan "Whatever's left."
His brows shot up, wrinkled creases forming on his head. This wasn't the first time Ellie had some odd eating tendencies, when they had first met and she was still in the foster system, she felt too out of place to eat. Once again when she was fourteen and starting high school, she lost all appetite, only picking apart her meals and leaving almost a full plate. Had she not starved herself for five days, Joel would've said something other than "Alright."
As soon as the bacon was cooked to crispy perfection, Joel transferred it to a plate lined with paper towels to drain. He turned to the stove, cracking eggs into the same skillet, the eggs sizzling in the bacon grease. He slid slices of bread into the toaster, the anticipation of a delicious breakfast filling the kitchen.
Ellie's stomach growled impatiently as she watched the food being prepared. The hunger that had plagued her for days now surged back with a vengeance, the scent of the bacon driving her wild with craving. She tried to resist, tried to focus on the eggs and toast that would make a complete breakfast, but her attention was fixated on the plate of bacon. "What are gonna do this summer?" Joel asked. She had intended to work her job at the movie theatre and plan the rest of the summer around that but with her leg torn up she couldn't possibly stand for hours on end, she could hardly walk. 
"I dunno," When Joel placed the plate of bacon on the table, Ellie's restraint snapped. Without a word, she lunged forward, snatching a piece of bacon and devouring it in a single bite. She barely registered the hot grease burning her lips as she reached for another piece, and then another.
Joel watched in surprise as Ellie wolfed down the bacon with alarming speed, barely pausing to chew before reaching for more. He opened his mouth to speak, concern etched on his face, but Ellie ignored him, her focus solely on the plate of meat before her. "Maybe pick up a new hobby?"
The eggs finished cooking, and Joel plated them alongside the toast, but Ellie barely spared them a glance. Her attention was consumed by the bacon, her hunger driving her to eat faster and faster, as if afraid it would disappear if she slowed down.
By the time Joel sat down across from her, his own plate in hand, Ellie had already polished off nearly half of the bacon. She barely acknowledged him as he began to eat, her eyes fixed on the remaining strips of meat.
Joel watched her with growing concern, the realization dawning on him that something wasn't right. "Ellie, slow down," he said, voice firm. "You're going to make yourself sick."
"Sorry," She halfheartedly spoke through a mouthful. 
"Christ," He muttered under his breath, taking a long swig of coffee "What's the plan for today?"
She shrugged "Sleep, I guess." 
He wished Ellie would do anything other than lay in bed and wilt away. Even if she just sat on the porch, he would be grateful.  "You should invite Dina over, she's been wanting to see you."
"Yeah, I know," Ellie's damp hair clung around her neck while she reached forward for more bacon. 
"Are you two fighting?"
"No."
"So what's going on?"
"Nothing, I just feel like shit and want to be alone." 
"Okay," he pressed his lips into a thin line, bringing his mug to his lips while he watched Ellie devour the rest of the bacon, paying no mind to the eggs or the toast. She finished her meal with a large glass of water that she chugged back in mere seconds before plopping herself on the couch and scrolling on her phone. 
As glad as he was to see that his daughter had finally showered and eaten, he had that deep lingering feeling in his gut that something had shifted inside of her. He feared that she wouldn't be the same without soccer or prospects on the horizon. 
While Joel was at work, Ellie had the bright idea of watching werewolf movies to gain some kind of grasp on whatever was happening. She refused to believe it was purely psychological and she was making all of this up in her head.
She started with the classics, fast-forwarding through the filler parts and scrutinizing the beginning when they were bitten and then the transformation. She chewed on a piece of jerky canines separating it with ease, wondering how much of what she was seeing was based on myth and how much might hold a kernel of truth.
Ellie had intended for these movies to be research for her condition, however, she had gotten distracted while watching Twilight and spiralled through the saga. If she really was a werewolf, were there vampires? What about witches? 
Were vampires like Dracula or Edward Cullen? Maybe there was a wide variety of them. It was also a strong possibility that she was suffering from something else like the continuous comments beneath her post suggested.
Rabies didn't click in her head, she had been given a shot almost immediately upon entering the hospital or so she was told. Nothing could rationalize, she was feral at night and that was a fact that she couldn't link to anything aside from insomnia which wasn't known for making people eat raw meat. 
Abruptly she turned the TV off, her thoughts proving to be too overwhelming. She chose to opt for another one of the suggestions under her post, take some sleeping pills and mellow out. It was at three pm Ellie took five sleeping pills and headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
Ellie closed the door softly behind her, flicking on the light switch. The harsh brightness of the bathroom light made her squint momentarily, but she forced herself to face the mirror. The reflection staring back at her was both familiar and disturbingly alien.
Ellie parted her lips, feeling her stomach churn with anxiety. She carefully pulled back her upper lip, revealing the source of her dread—her canines were no longer the small, nondescript teeth they had always been. Instead, they had elongated into sharp, pointed fangs, glistening ominously under the bathroom light. It wasn't a hallucination. They were growing even longer than they were that morning.
She turned her head from side to side, examining them from different angles. Her fingers trembled as she touched the tips of her fangs, feeling their razor-sharp edges. It was undeniable; these were not the teeth of a human. 
Tears welled up in her eyes as she grappled with the reality of her transformation. She closed her mouth, trying to make her fangs less noticeable, but the sensation of them pressing against her lower lip was impossible to ignore. 
-
She had successfully slept for seven hours. The moment she woke she had forgotten about her reality until she mistakingly bit her tongue, the taste of iron flooded her mouth and she wanted to cry all over again. 
Ellie lay in bed, her heightened senses picking up the smallest sounds around her. The house was quiet, but outside, she could hear the faint, delicate footsteps of a cat on the porch. The sound was unmistakable: soft pads against the wooden boards, a rapid, fluttering heartbeat. The primal hunger, which she had fought so hard to suppress, flared up once more.
She tried to resist, gripping the sheets tightly. Fudge sat on the spot on the patio that he always favoured. Ellie's hands pressed firmly into her ears as she dug her face into her pillow, trying to ignore the sound of the Anderson's cat stretching and the ravenous knawing inside of her. 
Once again, she was lying in bed and contemplating her own death. She needed whatever this was to go away as fast as possible. She thought she could keep it to herself so she wouldn't have to concern Joel but every passing second her mind flung between crying while she confessed or putting a shotgun in her mouth and pulling the trigger.
Ellie dragged herself out of bed, and moved down the hallway, her eyes lingering on Joel's bedroom door, slightly ajar, he was fast asleep inside. There was a hunger within her, she needed to eat something or she would chew through her own hand.
Back in the kitchen like the night before, there was nothing left for her in the fridge. Ellie moved to the freezer, where more meat awaited. She ripped open a package of chicken breasts, the frozen flesh burning her hands, but she didn't care. She gnawed at them, the icy texture a strange contrast to any other thing she'd consumed. She continued through the freezer, consuming everything she could find: pork chops, sausages, a roast that she chewed on like an animal.
Her fingers claw at the frozen packages of meat. She tore into packs of ground beef and pork chops, barely waiting for them to thaw. The coldness of the meat did little to dampen her fervour. Each bite was a temporary reprieve from the hunger, but it was never enough. Like a nicotine patch, it hardly worked then it was over. 
As the last of the meat disappeared, Ellie stood in the wreckage of her binge, her stomach churning with the mass of food she had consumed. Yet, the carnal hunger persisted, more powerful and demanding than ever. She felt a surge of desperation, a hankering that could not be satisfied by the lifeless offerings of the freezer.
She needed something fresh.
Her heightened senses picked up the faint sound of a heartbeat, the shuffle of tiny paws against the floorboards. Ellie moved to the door, her senses locked onto the cat outside. As she stepped onto the porch, the cat froze, its eyes wide and reflective in the moonlight. It sensed the danger, but it was too late. Ellie's vision sharpened, her hearing intensified, and her muscles coiled like springs. She could hear the Fudge's rapid heartbeat, see the minute twitch of his whiskers, and smell his fear.
Before the cat could react, Ellie lunged. She was fast, much faster than any human could be. Her hands, flexing, grabbed the cat with unerring precision. Fudge yowled, a high-pitched scream of terror, but the sound was cut short as Ellie's teeth sank into its flesh. Warm blood filled her mouth, and the taste sent a shiver of satisfaction through her body.
She tore into the cat with a ferocity that frightened her, the human part of her horrified by what she was doing, yet unable to stop. Ellie was a passenger in her own body. She devoured the cat quickly, the small body offering little resistance as she consumed it entirely, bones crunching under her powerful jaws.
When the last piece was gone, Ellie sat back on her heels, blood dripping from her mouth and hands, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The hunger was finally sated, but the reality of what she had done crashed down on her with overwhelming force. She looked around, dazed, the remnants of the cat scattered around her. The porch was now a scene of carnage.
Tears filled her eyes as she stumbled back inside, slamming the door shut behind her. She rushed to the sink, scrubbing her hands and face frantically, trying to wash away the evidence of her actions. The cold water stung her skin, but it did little to cleanse the horror she felt inside.
Ellie braced herself against the sink, her body shaking with sobs. She had lost control, given in to the craving, and now she was left with the consequences. The taste of blood lingered in her mouth, a bitter reminder of what she had become. Upstairs she could hear Joel shuffling and quickly moved to the sink to wash the blood off her. It was futile, it had covered the bottom half of her face and sunken into her T-shirt and grey sweatshirts.
When Joel reached the bottom of the staircase and saw the numerous empty packets of meat strewn across the kitchen along with the seventeen-year-old frantically wiping at her skin with a dirty dishcloth. Ellie knew Joel was behind her, she could hear his quickened heartbeat. Never had she felt so terrified, she couldn't face Joel and let him see what had soaked into her clothes, all she could do was let out a strangled sound that bordered between a scream and sob. 
"Ellie?" Joel inched closer, one hand gently landing on her shoulder. She dug her face into her collarbone, trying to prolong the inevitable until Joel used his free hand to face her toward him. He staggered back. Joel's eyes widened as he took in the scene before him—the sanguine covering Ellie, the bloodlust burning in her eyes. His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke, his words heavy with disbelief.  "What the hell did you do?" 
That was how Ellie Williams spent the first week of her last summer. 
3 new messages
ACCEPT|IGNORE
noahson_tickets: Hey
noahson_tickets: You aren't crazy
noahson_tickets: Werewolves are real
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hippolotamus · 26 days
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another installment of what I'm calling the cleopatra series. this time from Eddie's POV because I got in my Buddie feels. part 1 here 💙
late for the love of my life | 7x06 Coda | 912 words | G
“Hey, how was it?” Marisol wraps her arms around his waist, giving him a peck on the lips. 
Eddie barely suppresses the urge to flinch and turn away. Which is maybe a tad dramatic, except for the way it isn’t. Because the past 24 hours have held more than a few revelations. None of which Eddie is ready to share. 
Despite the layers of clothing between them, his skin tingles and crawls where she touches him. If he didn’t have years of experience being exposed to fluids, substances and people he didn’t want anywhere near him, he thinks he would have wrenched away from her by now. No, he definitely would have. But he’s a professional at hiding his personal reactions, both on and off the job. 
Yes, he’s made progress in therapy, but the instincts to hide himself, to put up walls and masks, are still easily activated. Handy for moments like now, when he can’t escape his girlfriend. Or when he has to smile big for the crowd and pretend the perpetual feelings for his best friend don’t exist when said best friend barrels back into the room all lovestruck and covered in soot from his boyfriend. 
“It was good. Really nice, actually.” That much is true. Because it was. Honestly, the whole hospital room chic was perfectly Maddie and Chim. 
“Nice?” She asks in a teasing tone, squeezing tighter and clinging to his torso like a koala. 
His breathing is acceptably even but the urge to peel her off, to tell her that she should probably go home because his heart rate is skyrocketing, his fingers and toes are tingling, and he’s beginning to feel claustrophobic is anything but. His built in panic mode suspects there isn’t enough Jell-o in the universe to undo this. Again, dramatic, but he thinks he’s within his rights to think so right now. 
“Yeah, I-” He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezes his eyes shut and inhales as deeply as he can manage. “Y’know, I’m, uh, still feeling a little worse for wear from last night. I should-” He doesn’t even finish the sentence, just points vaguely in the direction of his bedroom. 
Marisol’s relaxed ‘welcome home’ look turns concerned as she furrows her brow and holds the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stay? I should probably stay over in case you need–” 
“Really,” he interjects, backing out of her hold, “I’ll be fine. Just need to sleep it off, I think. You should go. Home. To your place.” Smooth, Diaz. “I mean, because I’ll probably be restless, y’know?”
“I can sleep on the cou-”
“No,” he says more forcefully than intended. He should be grateful she wants to stay and take care of him. He should. He is. But not the couch. Not… Buck’s bed. His place. Their place.
“Oh.” She takes a step back and he should probably feel worse about the way she looks so dejected. “I, um, I understand. Talk tomorrow?”
“Yeah, talk tomorrow.” 
Tomorrow when I’ve had a chance to reset. When the twin alcohol and love hangovers have hopefully, finally died off. When I’m not seeing an endless mental projection reel of reminders like Or, y’know, you could have mine. Then why are you in hospital jail? Stay with me, Buck. Him choking on blood. You saved him. Abby. His fiancee is Abby. Showoff. My blood on him. Hey, Buck. You think you’re expendable. They’re all dead. I, uh, misunderstood the assignment. Three minutes and seventeen seconds. She sees me. It was a date. 
The front door clicks in the latch and he immediately turns the deadbolt, noting how his pulse drops to a debatably more normal range. He wants to settle on the couch, under the covers in his bed, both and neither all at the same time. In the end he migrates to the kitchen, which really shouldn’t surprise him. 
He runs his fingers over the backs of the chairs, circling around until he’s standing between the table and main counter. Am I one of the things that makes you sad? So now am I allowed to ask how you are? But you do eventually - you process it? 
Eddie turns toward the fridge, drawn to Shannon’s photo. He plucks it from under the magnet, running his thumb over the glossy print. 
“Can never quite get my timing down, can I?” He huffs out a wet chuckle. “God, I wish you were here right now. I could really use someone to talk to.” 
If it wasn’t after midnight he would probably drive himself to the cemetery to sit on the stone bench. To talk to someone that can’t talk back but would nonetheless tell him what an idiot he is. To unfairly water her grave with tears shed because he always thinks he has more time. You might have noticed I almost died. Again. And then I thought, this is it. This is the last day of my life. We’re all going to die alone. That’s what she said to me and Hen. 
Truthfully he’s not sure who he’s thinking of more — Shannon or Buck — as he slides to the floor, still clutching her picture, beginning to sob and shake as the words I love you so much flash like a neon reminder of his poor timing. Does it really matter? Because either way he’s missed his chance. 
But I guess it’s your mess now. 
Part 3 (Buck's POV)
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heyidkyay · 3 months
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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |
Part Seventeen
Matty Healy x reader
Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.
What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 
Authors Note: Okay! Hi!:) Just have to say thank you for all the love you lot keep showing this series, it’s so mad and so very appreciated. Honestly makes me want to carry on writing. But I also wanted to add a quick warning to this update.. There is a lot going on, we finally get what we’ve been waiting for!! But there are other topics that also come into play. SO that being said please read the warnings below.
Warnings: Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse (past tense), as well as sobriety, also a previous death, bit gruesome but needed- this relates back to a conversation held between Matty and Jamie in Part Eight.
> Last update: look back here if you'd like!
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She never did call.
Matty waited, and then waited some more. He fidgeted the rest of the day, smoked his way through a pack of fags when they’d been down at the studio, and then nursed a single pint after having allowed the guys to bully him into one of the local pubs.
It wasn’t until much later that night that he heard anything from her at all, and it hadn’t been a call, but instead a text.
Messages now Squeaks xx I listened to it 
He’d been cooped up in his office since the second he’d gotten home, looking through a couple of older demos and other sound clips in hopes that he’d find something that would fit with the current sound of their new album. George had been on his case about it all, claiming he’d been too spaced out as of late, so Matty had huffed but ultimately followed through.
Songbooks from years before were piled up high on his desk and on the floor, pages full of chords and scribbled lyrics cluttered the rest of the space, but he continued on, using it to distract him from the torturous wait.
When his phone finally did buzz, Matty had almost decided not to answer it, figuring that it would just be a message from Jamie, or maybe his mum. He was still waiting for that ring. But fuck was he glad that he’d taken a glance. Otherwise he might’ve missed it.
Are you busy?
The next text had come through almost a minute after the first, as though she’d been debating sending it. Matty frowned down at the screen, pushing away from his desk slightly.
She’d heard it.
She’d heard the demo. 
He didn’t quite know how to feel about that, or what to take from her clipped response. It was why he had essentially asked her to call him, because at least then he would’ve been able to somewhat determine what she’d thought about it, how she might’ve felt.
His tongue slid between the row of his front teeth in thought, staring down at the messages he’d received whilst his thumbs hovered over the keyboard looking for something to say.
Can you come over?
His fucking breath got caught in his throat just reading that, his tongue suddenly too big for his mouth. Matty didn't even think before he hastily answered her, worried she might take it all back.
Give me ten minutes.
He could do ten minutes. 
Fuck it. He’d fucking speedtail it out of here and try for five if it meant that she’d just let him in again. The last week had been painful enough, no need to fucking prolong it.
So that was what he did, throwing on the first pair of trainers he’d found in the hallway and grabbing at the car keys he’d tossed down on the counter months earlier. Forgetting about the album and the work he’d planned to do, along with whatever else that had seemed so important just a second ago.
She called and he would come running.
It was pissing down by the time he made it to her place.
Headlights on and ignition still running, Matty went to make his escape from the driver's seat, practically vibrating with the anticipation of it all. But he did momentarily pause to yank the keys from beneath the wheel before eventually scrabbling his way out of the sidedoor, feet immediately dropping into the murky puddle sat beneath. 
He’d parked like a fucking dickhead, halfway onto the curb and his boot sticking out into the empty street, but he could care less about it as he jogged around the front of the car and up the first few steps to her door.
There was blood rushing in his ears, filling up his head and making him dizzy with it all. He raised a fist to knock, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. 
He’d gotten there in just under seven minutes. 
His heart was pounding like mad. 
He knocked. 
It was minutes or maybe seconds before he heard a slight scuffle on the other side. Before the hallway light turned on and peered through the painted window pane sat atop the familiar front door. 
The chain fell with a clang and Matty swallowed, watching on as the hinges creaked, revealing her face.
She stared up at him, standing in a pair of pyjamas he remembered seeing on a late night call of theirs, her hair all tied up in one of those pretty buns, soft curls escaping at the sides.
Her lips parted with her next breath, the sound of it jumped out at him and Matty couldn’t really hold back anymore. It had been six months. Six whole months. Almost to the day they’d met... Back when he’d been cocksure and arrogant. When he’d still been reeling from another stint in rehab, and from the stunt before the summer, and from Luke’s death.
Matty paused. 
He hadn’t really thought about Luke so easily. Not ever. Not since that night. Not in passing.
But she was currently staring back at him. Her eyes wide and tired. Shining in the light of the street lamps that crowded the street outside. 
Matty stepped forward, reaching for her. 
“Tell me to stop.” He muttered. 
She didn’t. 
And so his hand found the edge of her jaw, fingers nestling into a place at her hairline, skimming the tip of her ear.
“I can’t.” She answered him. Always so full of truth. 
And Matty, Matty was a selfish man. He’d been a selfish kid, too. A bratty teenager. A hellish son and an even worse boyfriend. Always so egotistical, so bold, so brazen. But even more so, selfish. 
He would take and take. And this moment was no different. He took.
Her mouth met his with an agonising fever, and there was an eager sigh that escaped in the breath shared between them that Matty couldn’t really determine if was his or hers.
She let him in so easily, let his tongue roam. She let him pull her close, let his hand find purchase on her hip and hear her moan. 
It was a whimper of a thing, a sound that was swallowed up by his mouth as he consumed her again. But it fuelled that fire within him, that heat which had been simmering so close to the surface of his skin for weeks, months now. 
“Mouse.” Matty said shakily, walking her backwards, further into the flat, where their feet shuffled over the hardwood floors. The door swung shut behind them and rattled in the silence before he was spinning and pressing her shoulders up against its cold wood. 
“Matty.” She breathed back to him, fingers catching on his neck, then his jaw, winding their way up into his hair. Tugging. 
A grunt escaped him and he pressed harder with it, teeth catching on her teeth, hands moulding into her skin. 
She tasted of something sweet, it coated the length of her tongue and melded well with the cigarette he’d lit on his way over. He wanted to taste more of it, found his nose pressing against the skin of her cheek in an attempt to do so. 
It was a second later that he felt himself rut up against her, accidentally mind, but the zip of his jeans tugged at the band of her bottoms and the movement made him realise he was hard. Had been half-way there from the moment she had texted him, but now, in her hallway, with her grinding up against him, and with those pretty little sounds she let slip, it was almost painful.
“Squeaks.” He managed to force out and she swallowed her own name right up, one arm wrapping around the length of his shoulders whilst the other tugged at the nape of his neck. 
Matty followed her demands effortlessly, a hand slipping under the hem of her shirt to feel at the warm skin hidden beneath, a calloused thumb brushing against the jut of her hip.
He explored, felt the edges of rigid flesh she kept hidden and out of sight, the freckles that lingered and dotted her torso, then wedged his knee between her legs. Hands grabbing at the backs of her thighs. 
One of her knees rode up higher on his side as he shifted even closer, letting her use him like a makeshift ladder to lift herself further up in the little space which stood between him and the door. 
He rutted again and the joint of her knee tightened by his hip, the heel of her foot digging into the back of his leg, forcing him even nearer. He grabbed at the swell of her arse, noting the way she arched into him at the touch. How her stomach tensed. 
It had just been pissing it down outside, he recalled belatedly, but her warmth in that moment seemed to dry up the remaining raindrops caught in his hair and along the shoulders of his coat. His fingertips pressed harder into her thighs at the thought, feeling the bottom of her shirt ride up higher between them upon catching on the zip of his jacket. 
She nipped at his lip, then his jaw, hands all but clawing at his neck and his back.
“Squeaks.” He tried again, brain hazy with want but needing to do this right. He had to do this right. “Squeaks.” Again he said, a plea within a shared breath between them, “Baby, please.”
She retreated all too quickly, letting him go with a sharp inhale. Lids heavy with avidity as she blinked back at him. 
Matty realised then that he’d had her pinned to the door, crowded against the wood and practically having lifted her up off of her feet. He swallowed thickly at the sight and willed his dick to calm the fuck down. But it had been way too fucking long. 
He was unhurried in the way he shifted beneath her before carefully letting her go, unwinding the leg he held at his hip before she slid slowly down his front. Feet hitting the cold wood floors with a soft thud.
He blinked and gone was that selfishness they had just shared, that immediate heat, and suddenly she was all wary, shy almost. Matty reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, before he steeled himself and finally took a step back.
“You came.” She murmured after a breath, and had his mind been in better shape he’d have been quicker with his quip.
But yet, he was left drifting in between the heady thrill and the uneventful come down they’d shared. 
He blinked slowly at her. Could see that the hallway light was the only one on, but somewhere, further down the hall, a soft glow from one of her many lamps crept its way past a door. 
“You said you’d call.” He found himself saying in reply, though it wasn’t the reprimand he’d thought it was. 
Her smile was soft then. Fond. 
His breath caught at the sight of her, still laboured from the minute before.
“After.” Squeaks whispered in recall. And Matty heard himself repeat it, “After, you said.”
She took a small step closer to him, the padding of her feet echoed in the narrow walkway. Matty’s hands twitched at his sides.
He saw her throat bob. 
“Tea?” She questioned, and Matty was both thankful and resentful for the quiet offer. 
He nodded, blinking owlishly at her. 
They stood there, not moving, for a long moment. The sound of a car passed, then the scuffle of a person or two outside, as well as the far off yap of a neighbouring dog. And still they just stood there, staring.
She took another step nearer and Matty attempted not to react to the way her fingers caught on the front of his coat, memorising the careful way she started to peel it off of him, turning so that she could claim it and then hang it off some place to the side. He looked at her the whole while, scared to take his eyes off her, in truth.
He licked at his lower lip when he caught her staring too and captured her hand in his when she went to step around him. 
“Tea.” He reminded himself and she smiled, eyes flickering across the length of his face. As though she was seeing him for the first time.
“Tea.”
Her kitchen always felt so homely. 
She had spices fixed to a rack on the wall, wound in growing ivy attached to the potted plant that sat on the windowsill beside it. Her fridge was dotted in magnets and polaroids, and a drawing of Teddy’s hung front and centre. The table was always so neat, though still cluttered with the odd crayon and lego piece, a bowl of fruit was perched in the very middle. She had one of those kettle cosy’s too, a knitted one that reminded Matty of days spent at his nana’s house when he was just a boy. 
His favourite part of all of it though, had to be her. 
He stood in the doorway and just watched as she puttered about the space, flashbacks of previous visits coming back to him. She had this easy grace about her, an elegance he always seen but could never quite make out. She was a piece to many puzzles in the way she typically held herself, so ready to fight and so willing to wilt, but in that moment she just was.
And Matty could hardly tear his eyes away from her, from the length of her back to the curve of her waist. The taste, the memory of her still coating his tongue.
He’d kicked off his shoes before he could trail a messy track throughout her home, so his footsteps were quiet when he finally crossed the kitchen tiles. He paused just behind her, his hands falling to her hips whilst his chin dropped to rest on her shoulder.
She allowed it. Picking up the kettle to pour over two mismatched mugs, he simply watched her work.
It was a difficult task not allowing his hands to wander, or to keep his mouth from pressing against the pulse in her neck, but he withheld, content to just hold her. Humming when she picked up the milk and thinking over the last day they’d spent together. That night at his.
They moved over to the table not long after, her kitchen blinds were still open so the moon gifted them all the light they needed. Matty kept close, knocking his knees against hers at the very corner of the table, unwilling to go without.
She was quiet still whilst she danced a finger around the rim of her steaming brew, Matty was mesmerised by the delicate motion.
A hum of hers broke the silence they had since settled in, the softness of it causing him to blink and look up, immediately recognising the faint tune of the demo he’d sent her.
He smiled, his eyes caught on to the one she wore too. Practically conspiratorial.
His legs reached outwards to capture one of her ankles between his feet, her gaze flickered back and forth between both his eyes. He wondered what she saw in them, what she made of him.
“I’m guessing you liked it then.” Matty spoke, voice ever so low, still scared to break their languid solitude.
Mouse dipped her chin in a nod, peering up at him through dark lashes that made him want to catch her by the neck and pull her in again. He knew what she tasted like now, he felt as though it would forever haunt him.
“Thank you,” She whispered after, fingers cupped around the bottom of her mug. His brow furrowed.
“For what?”
She smiled again, blinking at him sweetly, “For my gifts, for always being so lovely, for sending me that song.”
Matty snorted, knowing that the last thing he could possibly be was lovely.
Fingertips touched his chin then and she guided his face back up to meet hers, he hadn’t realised he’d even looked away. But it was then that he was reminded of that night in his own kitchen, crowded between her legs and the counter, her kind eyes. You’re enough.
“Was it for me?” She questioned, watching him closely again. Something she tended to always do. “‘Cause that kiss, it sort of made it feel like it was for me.”
Matty grinned, eyes squinting with the strength of it. 
It was so easy- too easy, even- for her to make him smile like that, and he couldn’t even begin to decide whether he loved or hated the fact that she had the ability. 
“Yeah, Squeaks. It was for you.”
Her cheeks dimpled in an attempt to dim the smile she then wore, elbows pressing against the table’s edge, her foot resting on top of his own. “Good.” She murmured, leaning in closer now.
“Good?” He chuckled, following the motion. Eyes caught on the curve of her mouth.
“Uhuh,” She breathed into the small space between them, nose brushing against the side of Matty’s own. “Really good.”
He laughed again, low and breathy this time around, before he finally closed the distance and kissed her for a second time.
She laughed too, smiling against his lips.
For an insomniac, the dark was a place full of many contradictions.
Matty had spent countless hours staring up at all types of ceilings, in all sorts of places, and in all kinds of countries. But hers, he reckoned, was possibly his favourite. As most things had come to be in the short time he’d spent with Mouse.
Because even as she slept on beside him, bundled in the duvet and a blanket that smelt of her, he didn’t stress over the fact that he was still wide awake. 
His mind was too preoccupied to stress. Just thinking back to the expression she’d worn when she’d first opened the front door. To the breathy gasps that had escaped her in the hallway. The way she’d gently carded her fingers through his hair after she’d lured him into bed. Promising to talk more tomorrow.
He thought of Luke then, as well. As he often did whenever the darkness plagued him.
The fucker would be laughing if he could just see him now, obsessing and all soppy over some bird. Smiling away to himself in the dark.
But Matty knew that he’d be happy too. Glad that he was finally getting back on the right track. Actually trying this time around. Because Luke had known the hardships of addiction just as well as Matty had- it was what had killed him in the end, wasn't it.
He could still picture his face, both before and after the fall. One second they’d all been grinning on that roof, high as kites and drunk out of their minds, having the time of their lives, and then his had hit the concrete.
Matty’s stomach rolled at the thought.
At the eerie silence that had followed.
He’d been struggling that night, trying to get clean, to stay clean. And they’d only gone to the party, Luke and Danny, to appease him. Luke, having tagged along wanting to look out for him, to make sure that he didn’t get too caught up in anything he couldn’t get himself out of.
Luke had been sober three months at that point. Clean of the drugs and the drink. All of it. He’d drank that night though, the party had been at one of his dodgier mates places and he wouldn’t have been able to have stayed in the clear.
Matty remembered egging him on, telling him to live a little. To have a beer. A shot. And then another. And another. Someone else had offered him that line though.
He’d been hammered by the time some idiot had come up with that dare and they’d all thought it had been a sick idea to try and walk the length of the roof. Like they were at Zippo’s sodding circus.
Luke had been doing so good. Matty had known it too. What with his first EP coming out that September, something which Jamie had made happen, and his new flat that he’d not long moved into. Away from the familiarity of street corners he knew far too well and faces of dealers that he’d seen time and time again before.
He’d been good. Been going steady.
Then he was just dead.
Matty didn’t close his eyes then, even as they began to water. Didn’t want to see him like that. Knew that he would if only he shut his eyes. Because he couldn't stand to see the reminder, the life that had left him too quickly.
A slight sniff broke him from his thoughts then and he stilled as Mouse moved and turned in her sleep.
He let himself breathe a little easier once she’d settled again, tucking her face into the crook of his shoulder and nestling further into his side. He wrapped an arm around her, needing her close, and then finally allowed his eyes to fall shut, burying his face in the top of her hair.
He wondered if she’d let him stay from now on and pressed a long kiss to her forehead.
He hoped that she would, listening to the quiet that hummed throughout the rest of her flat as his mind began to let go of what consciousness it had once clung on to.
‘Tomorrow’ was his final thought before he eventually drifted off. It had been a long time since he’d thought that he’d ever make it to a tomorrow.
It was a grunt I woke up to. The heavy and unfavoured kind, the type that was only ever forced out of you when you received a hefty blow to the stomach.
I felt my face wrinkle as I pressed in closer to the warmth beside me, unhappy to have been woken. But then I heard a whisper, followed by a giggle, which had me blinking blearily and peering up at the toddler now towering over me.
“Wake now?”
“Teddy.” I heard someone else laugh right above my head, and I was quick in the way I looked up, recognising that the warmth I’d been clinging to had been Matty all along. “You’re an actual monster, you know that?”
Teddy squealed happily when Matty tickled his sides, but seemed content with his place on the man’s stomach and the fact that Matty was here at all. 
I wanted to groan at the very idea, I hadn't much thought this through. Not when I’d heard the song, thinking back to the night I’d spent at his, the fight we’d had, the way he’d held Teddy and promised him that things would soon be alright.
It hadn’t felt real. It still didn’t.
“Wake?” Teddy said to me again and I had to give a soft laugh when I felt his finger prod at my cheek, which was probably marked with the line of Matty’s t-shirt now. “Yeah?”
I chuckled again, peering up at him. “Yeah, I’m awake.” I replied, smiling before I rubbed at my eyes.
Matty’s arm seemed to be tucked up under me because it twitched a tad when I moved. I grimaced at the loss of feeling he must have experienced and murmured a quiet “Sorry,” shuffling over slightly so that I could free the limb. But he merely laughed to himself before his hand came up to rub at my arm, keeping me close. 
“It’s fine.” Matty replied, his voice tinged with sleep and grainy from lack of use, but then he winced and flexed his fingers, “Oh.”
I snorted softly and glanced up at him, “Pins and needles?”
His nose wrinkled further, as did his lips when he tilted his head back and tried to shake loose the feeling from his wrist. I let him have his arm back, turning over onto my stomach to simply watch him, drinking in the sight of him whilst I still could.
“Yeah.” He hissed out and Teddy, who was watching too, started to shake his arm alongside Matty.
Matty only noticed the mimicking movement when he felt the toddler shift on his torso and opened his eyes up only to laugh at the way that Teddy was now copying him.
“Oi,” He admonished, using his other hand to playfully pinch at the boy’s side, “What you think you’re doin’?”
Teddy giggled, hair a mess from having just woken but grinning all the while. “Dancin’! Like you!”
I shook my head and bit back my sudden amusement before dropping it down into my hands when I couldn’t quite manage to hide my growing smile.
“Oh, we’re dancing are we?” I heard Matty say, and could feel the grin he probably wore. Then Teddy was laughing again and squirming beside me once more, sounding so happy, before the bed tilted more so to one side and a soft thud was heard. “Oi, where you off to!” Matty asked him whilst Teddy’s giggles still echoed around the space.
“Tele!” Was the only response he got and I listened to the way Teddy’s feet hurried out of the room, having escaped Matty’s merciless tickles.
There was a quiet for a moment before I felt a hand come to cradle my head and fingers card their way through my hair.
I leaned into the touch, savouring it. I didn’t think anyone had ever touched me with such a softness before, like I was something to be treasured, to be held and kept close.
It was a long while before I finally raised my head again, blinking at the sweet sight I was met with. I smiled at the mess his curls were in and the way his eyes squinted in the dim light of the room.
“Hi.” I whispered and his fingers stilled in my hair when he looked back at me. 
Matty didn’t say a thing though, merely shuffled further down the bed, the duvet being kicked somewhere to the bottom before he finally settled in beside me, both our heads now resting on a single pillow.
His fingertips skirted along the edge of my jaw and trailed across the bottom of my lip before his thumb reached out to catch it too, pinching the flesh ever so slightly.
“You snore.” Matty said to me then and my mouth dropped open slightly in offence.
“I do not.”
He snorted to himself, grin widening, “You do.”
I shoved him but his hands were quick to grab at my arms, wrapping them up and moving to press them against his chest. “It’s cool though, they’re cute snores.”
“How the fuck can they be cute, Matty?”
He rolled his eyes at the ask, still grinning away. “Like, just soft and stuff. Don’t stress, I’ve roomed with George and he’s got the lungs of a whale or summat. I could probably sleep next to a fog horn and feel at home.”
A bright laugh escaped me at that, before I was shaking my head gently and looking back at his sleepy smile. “That makes me feel so much better.”
Matty smacked his lips around another grin, shrugging the shoulder that wasn’t pressed to the mattress. He reached out then, brushing a loose strand from out of my face and let his thumb linger on a freckle.
“Your breath stinks as well.”
I bit into my bottom lip at that, narrowing my eyes at him. “Well yours is no better! And besides, you didn’t seem to mind it much last night.”
I went to turn over then but he was hasty in his movements to grab at me, tugging me back towards him, closer this time. I laughed joyfully, “Hey!”
“Hi.” Matty grinned smugly once we'd settled, his hand falling to the small of my back.
I was gripping one of his shoulders now whilst my other arm laid in the little space between us. “I said that already.” I told him, feeling each soft exhale that escaped him. 
He hummed, thumb rubbing circles into my skin. “I missed you, you know.”
My brow furrowed, “You slept right beside me, you muppet.”
He pinched my hip in retaliation and so I chuckled. “You know what I meant.”
I did know.
“Missed you, too.” I murmured, letting my fingertips trail up over the side of his neck, liking the feel of his barely there stubble. “But-”
He stopped me then, nudging my cheek with the tip of his nose, “I know. Later, yeah?”
My eyes fell closed and I hummed in agreement, later was fine. We could talk later.
His hand pressed against the curve of my back, forcing me even closer, and so my fingers worked themselves into his hair. I exhaled softly and tilted my head forward just a touch. He closed the distance between us in a single heartbeat.
Kissing Matty was different, everything about it just felt right in a way that no other kisses ever quite had. Things appeared to click. Fall into place around me. 
But don't get me wrong, it was painful too, because there was that ache in my chest again, the hole that hollowed out my unforgiving heart. I wanted him but at the same time, I was too terrified to reach out and touch.
Our lips brushed, once, twice, then a third time, hesitant and careful, before something shifted and I was taken back to the previous night. To the way his fingers had dug deep into my thighs, to the front door pressing against my spine, to the way he’d held me so weightlessly.
Talking could wait til later, I reminded myself.
Now, all I wanted was for Matty to consume me and I immediately gasped at the cold hand that dragged its way up my side to tease me, thumb brushing against the nipple that hardened beneath it. 
I wouldn’t let him have all the fun though, so without a second thought I rolled him over and settled on his hips. He was surprised by the change but adapted seamlessly, rutting up off the mattress to meet me, one hand still toying with me, taunting, whilst the other cupped the back of my head.
It was back and forth for a short while, mouth chasing mouth, chests heaving with the force of it.
But then, a bang hollowed out the flat.
I jumped at the sudden noise and shot my head over towards the door, listening in closer.
“Okay?” I called out, noting the breathless quality my voice now had. I waited and didn’t move even when Matty’s hands came to just sit on my waist. 
“‘Kay!” I heard Teddy shout back and I released a semi-amused huff before turning back to face the man beneath me, “Sorry.”
And I was. I really was, especially when I forced myself to drop back down onto the bed sheets next to him.
Matty simply chuckled and I glanced over at him, smiling slightly when he reached out to swipe a gentle thumb over the scar on my jaw. “You’re good." I wondered if he was just saying that, but then, "What do you think he’s actually done though? Sounded like the bike to me.”
I sighed at the very thought. The bike had been one of my mum’s many Christmas gifts to Teddy, one which I hardly had any room for in the flat. I silently hoped that it wasn't the bike, but was caught on the way Matty had so easily adapted, moving on without complaint.
Was that normal?
Matty’s hand coaxed me back into looking at him again and I softened when I saw the smile he wore. “Later,” He reminded me, knocking a knuckle against my chin before he withdrew completely, sitting up on the edge of the bed. “How about a fry up then? There's that bakery by the studio or the cafe up near mine, choice is yours but it’s on me.”
“Matty.” I huffed, not a whine but near enough, extending an arm out in hopes that it would call him back to bed.
He smirked, glancing at me from over his shoulder once he'd stood. He dragged a hand through his hair. “Come on, got a growing boy to feed- Teddy too, I 'spose.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help my grin. “You’re an idiot.”
“So you’ve said.” He quipped and I could hear how his laughter filled the flat even as he headed for the bathroom, “Teds get ready, mate! We're getting bacon!”
I fell back onto the mattress with a smile, staring up at the ceiling above me with a little bit of hope.
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minichrismd · 3 months
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Scared of The Past (Running From the Future) - Theo Nott (1/?)
Words | 700 Warnings | Fem reader | Future use of (Y/N) | Nothing else (yet) Pairings | Theo Nott x Reader | Neville Longbottom & Reader (Siblings)
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The black lake was eerily peaceful at night, the occasional slosh of water breaking on the edge and birds chirping as they flew was the only thing breaking the silence.
You sat staring out at the edge, internally debating your next steps in the mess you currently found yourself in. With the wizarding war looming on the horizon, you knew you had two choices. Stay and fight or run.
You sighed as you thought through your options. Staying to fight alongside your brother and friends seemed like the right choice, but a feeling settled in your stomach every time you thought about it. The possibility of ending up like your parents, tortured to the point of insanity and spending the rest of your life institutionalised was wildly unappealing, to the point that death would have been a better fate.
The thought of running and being freed from your wizarding life held some appeal, but it would mean leaving behind everything and everyone you’d ever know. There would no longer be a place for you in the wizarding world, essentially sentencing yourself to exile for the rest of your life. Was that a fate better than probable death?
Your mind spun these thoughts around until you felt a hand on your shoulder, jolting you to attention.
“Amore mio, it’s me.” You heard a familiar voice whisper. You relaxed almost immediately at the sound.
“Theo, you scared me.” You whispered, turning your head to look up at him, barely able to make out his face in the darkness. He gave your shoulder a squeeze as he moved to sit next to you, his hand making its way from your shoulder, down your arm to grasp at your hand.
You sat in a comfortable silence, taking the time to run your thumb over his knuckles.
“Are you still thinking about your choices?” He mumbled after a while, causing you to let out another sigh. You nodded, shuffling slightly closer to him and resting your head on his shoulder. He released his grip on your hand and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.
Very few people saw this side to Theo. To most, he was closed off and tight lipped, scowling and fighting were what he was known for. But to you, he was kind and open, a true gentleman.
“I don’t know what to do.” You mumbled, forcing down the lump in your throat. Theo heard the strain in your voice, quickly pulling you into a hug and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“Whatever you choose, I’ll stand by you.”
“But it’s not that easy!” You spoke exasperated. “We’re on different sides of this war.”
“Not by choice.”
“I know that!”
You sighed again, pressing your palms into your eyes and rubbing them, trying to stave off the tears that you’d been holding in for days after the last order meeting you’d attended.
“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. “I shouldn’t blame you for a choice you didn’t make.”
Theo sighed and held you tighter, the light of the moon grazing on his dark mark that was peeking out from under his uniform. His induction into the Dark Lord’s army of Death Eaters had been a sore subject for weeks.
In his embrace, your tears began to fall, like a dam had broken and your emotions were flowing out freely. Your body wracked with sobs in his arms.
“It will be ok.”
“But what if it isn’t? What if one of us dies Theo?”
Theo didn’t respond but clutched you tighter to him, unwilling to let you go. At seventeen you were both too young for this, completely unprepared for what this war had caused. Lines were drawn, divides were reincarnated tenfold, war was unkind to all involved.
“What if I ran with you?” Theo mumbled, his face buried in your shoulder, his words so quiet that you barely caught them.
Your head rose from his shoulder.
“What?”
“I said, what if I ran with you?”
“You would?”
He nodded softly, lifting a hand to your cheek and brushing your tears away.
“I can’t lose you amore mio.”
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irlvernon-moved · 7 months
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GOING SEVENTEEN Ep. 22 논리나잇 Ⅲ #2 (Debate Night Ⅲ #2) "Say you invented a time machine: would you travel to the past or the future?"
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batshieroglyphics · 2 months
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[FIC] Nothing But Bones ~ Star Wars Prequels ~ Alpha-17/Obi-Wan Kenobi ~ Mature
Title: Nothing But Bones Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Era Author: Batsutousai Rating: Mature Pairing: Alpha-17/Obi-Wan Kenobi, background cloneshipping Warnings: Alternate Universe, Order 66, post-Order 66, PTSD, non-binary clone troopers, survivor's grief, OC death, bad coping methods, original slave characters, miscommunication Summary: Alpha-17 finds Obi-Wan, after the galaxy's gone to hell.
Seventeen looked across at him. Kenobi had lowered the blaster, but he hadn't put it away. He looked tired, worn down and suspicious, and Seventeen found themself wanting to reach out to him, to pull him close and hug him, like Baar had done during bad nights on Kamino. (Somehow, they'd gone soft, in the years between Rattatak and now. They weren't certain how to feel about that.) "I thought you were dead," Seventeen admitted, knew from the way that Rokaia stiffened that she understood. They'd thought Kenobi would, too—they'd never been able to hide much from him, not with his Force—but he just sighed and asked, in a tired voice, "Why are you here, Seventeen?" Seventeen took a moment to debate all the possible answers to that, before saying, "I came here to die." Rokaia let out a sound like she'd been stabbed, while Kenobi just closed his eyes, looking tired and worn as thin as Seventeen felt. "Where's Cody?" Seventeen had to ask, because they couldn't imagine the little shit would allow their general out on his own, not when his mere existence was a crime. "Cody," Kenobi said, agony in his voice, "ordered me shot." Seventeen felt the words like a bolt in the gut, couldn't stop from staggering to the side, Rokaia dragged along with, shouting their name, until they could lean against the nearest wall, trying to catch their breath, to breathe through the horror of Cody, just another faceless body in armour, wanting the Jedi they'd sworn to Seventeen to guard with their life—on pain of a punishment spar or suicide runs or whatever punishment Seventeen thought would hurt enough—dead. Kriff, they did not need that nightmare fuel. They felt Rokaia pulling away from them, opened their eyes to look, see why, only to find Kenobi had approached, within easy reach, and Seventeen couldn't stop themself from reaching out, towards him, needing to touch, to know he was real. Kenobi flinched. Seventeen froze, hands outstretched, thought about pulling away. Stepping back. Leaving. (Their voice had ordered him shot; their face had stood for a mutiny, had stared blankly at the scene of a murder; they could not blame Kenobi if he wanted nothing to do with them.) Except, then, Kenobi reached out, catching one of Seventeen's hands with his own. Seventeen felt it like an electroshock, couldn't tell if they wanted to flinch back or lunge forward, and so was left trapped in stillness, watching Kenobi step forward, closer still, close enough that Seventeen could wrap their hands around his throat and squeeze. (They were a weapon, had always been, but they had never felt quite so dangerous around Kenobi before, not like this.) "Are you going to shoot me?" Kenobi asked, quiet. Something in Seventeen felt like it had cracked open, raw and bleeding, and they had to swallow down bile or a scream, they couldn't say which, before they could say, "No." Swallowed again, harder, and managed to add, "I'm gonna shoot Cody." Kenobi's smile was a bitter, brittle thing, and Seventeen couldn't resist, any more, the urge to pull him close, against their chest, and wrap their arms around him, ignoring his stiffness, the terror that they hadn't seen on Rattatak, not once, but fancied they could smell on him, now. Kenobi stayed stiff for a moment that dragged into hours and days, before he relaxed with a whispered, "Oh," and strong hands came up to clench at Seventeen's shoulders, tight enough to ache, to hopefully leave bruises deep, where they would throb for days, so Seventeen couldn't forget that this was real, that he was real. Here. Alive. "I thought you were dead," Seventeen said again, tried not to care when their voice cracked. "I'm not," Kenobi whispered, and squeezed Seventeen's shoulders, then pulled away.
You can read the whole fic on Archive of Our Own!
Please take pity on a poor starving author and reblog this post? (Doubly important for rare-pairs, y'all.)
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gamblersdoll · 3 months
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PUT MY NAME ON IT, NOW IT DESIGNER. 1
New message!
“girl you gon call me or what?”
it made you roll your eyes. hakari always didnt like if you didnt respond right away, assuming something was wrong and you were in trouble or mad at him, that was a pro and con of him.
you started typing, making sure to turn off the notifications or sounds coming from your phone. you would occasionally look up to see your current boyfriend, sinji, still focused on the damn game… like always.
you readjusted your bonnet, finally pressing send.
Message sent!
“what do you want? cant call rn.”
you felt your heart drop to your ass when he immediately started typing, fucking creep. you couldnt call him– not with sinji right infront of you and not to hakari. the hell could he possibly want at … eleven thirty-two at night?
New message!
“ite, but call me l8tr.”
yeah, absolutely not.
. . . . .
maybe you shouldve called him, because for the past two days he had called you and only to have seventeen voicemails from him. if you had given him a chance you wouldve found it as a turn on. but knowing history, history.
“so, did cha call him?” maki asked, leaning in close to you. you never know why she asks even if she doesnt like hakari. but she could be very nosey.
“uh oh, boy drama!” gojo chimed, “well— whats his naaameee?” that damn idiot satoru.
you tuned everything out, only having to be pestered by he himself. you shut down your phone, needing a break from it anyway. you owned your own apartment, which was good, until it wasnt. you walked in to only see your boyfriend had left, which was fortunate and unfortunate, knowing sinji had only came over cause you had the good wifi and food. so you debated, call or not? you finally said fuck it. powering your phone back on and then taking a shower to relax first.
the hot water running down your hair and skin was always what relaxed you the most, nerves going away and settling until you prepared yourself for the worse and hoped for the best. throwing on a old oversized shirt and hopping into the bed, you pressed the call button.
ring!
ring!
you heard shuffling and bassbooted music in the back, and somewhat of yelling.
“look who’s pretty ass decided to call me.” hakari always called you pretty. no matter if you were throwing up or throwing a tantrum, as he would call it, no matter what.
“you said you wanted to talk, so talk.” you held a straight face, only trying to fight away the memories of what used to be your relationship.
“ill assume you heard about me dropping out and being some gambler or whatever, havent you mama?” he chuckled, waiting for you.
“sure, and dont call me mama, i have a whole—“ he interrupted you.
“yeah yeah yeah, your lil’ boyfriend or something.” he finished for you, immediately growing annoyed at the thought of you being with someone that wasnt him. “anyways, you’ll be getting your money back, and its been tripled.” what?
“you do realize its been a little over a year since that happened.” you deadpanned.
“its better than ten. i promised you didnt i?” hakari deadpanned back, matching you always. “i always keep my promises. you know that.” he stated.
“okay, good to know. anything else?” you tried to hurry the call, hoping to hop off of it. you heard him laughing in the back, calming himself.
“always, im inviting you to my club, you got till the end of the week or imma just have someone escort you here. got business to talk about.” hakari said, adding that onto your plate.
“so you deadlining me now?”
“you damn right.”
“ill think on it. now get off my phone.” you said, rolling your eyes.
he chuckled, exhaling. “hope to see you soon, babydoll.”
call ended!
you rubbed your face in your hands, that went better than expected? putting your phone on the charger and laying there, you should have not been on edge, but it was hakari, and you felt your phone vibrate. what time had it been? twelve o five.
for hakari, he knows how to wire transfer, infact pretty well.
“make sure it gets to her, or imma fuck yall up. dont make me repeat myself.” hakari warned, leaning back against his soft couch watching some fight he placed a bet on. he puffed out smoke from the joint he held, only waiting.
“its been transferred, kinji.” the words exactly he wanted to hear. “she’s gonna get it by twelve o five.”
by twelve o five, a hundred and fifty thousand had been transferred to your account.
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