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#like without fail they just gravitate towards one another

s4no · 7 months

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TOKREV: STONER HCS

+ feat: ken ryuuguji, keisuke baji, mitsuya takashi, hanma shuji, seishu inui, sanzu haruchiyo, wakasa imaushi & shinichiro sano

+ cw: fem!reader, drugs (weed + cigarettes), nsfw themes (ptv, cockwarming)

+ summary: ever wonder what they're like when they get high?

+ a/n: i am smoking a blunt while writing this so ignore the typos

ಇ 𝗞𝗘𝗡 𝗥𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗝𝗜. after a long day of grueling work, draken likes to relax by smoking a blunt. he'll roll it after he's locked up his shop and walk into your apartment with it behind his ear, his forehead and fingers smudged with motor oil. it's become part of your routine to walk up to him as he places it between his lips and light it for him, watching him take a hit and blow the smoke out to the side. you two pass it back and forth while he cleans up in the bathroom, and then relocate to the living room once he's done, lounging on the couch while discussing your day. the more he smokes, the closer he gets, subconsciously closing the distance and gravitating toward you. he gets touchy when he's high, and you hum as calloused hands absentmindedly wander over the curves and valleys of your body, tracing abstract shapes into your skin. and when you run out of things to talk about, you sit two there in a comfortable silence, merely enjoying each other's presence.

ಇ 𝗞𝗘𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗝𝗜. the first thing baji likes to do when he wakes up is smoke, especially if it's the weekend. you'll wake up to him packing the bong, bathed in golden light pouring in through the window. "mornin', kitten." he grins down at you, sharp canines poking past his bottom lip, "wake and bake?" the rips he takes from the bong are impressive, and when you try to copy him, you inevitably end up coughing and sputtering. he always snickers and takes the bong from of your hands, rubbing his palm over the center of your chest. "breathe, baby, breathe." by the time you manage to catch your breath, he's finished packing another bowl— one that he single-handedly smokes before finally getting out of bed. without fail, his stomach rumbles and he shoots you a sheepish look, "you want breakfast? i'll make pancakes." throwing the covers off you, you run after him to the kitchen, knowing he'll most likely start a fire if you aren't there to help.

ಇ 𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗜 𝗠𝗜𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗬𝗔. mitsuya mainly smokes in social settings. whenever someone offers him a joint at a party, he always accepts it with a gracious smile. surprisingly, a little weed makes him even more charismatic than usual, and he's able to entertain the whole room without even trying. but he walks a fine line because once he's true and properly stoned, he becomes more introverted and ends up clinging to you like a lost puppy. you'll be dancing in the middle of the floor and he'll walk up to you and just throw his arms around you. "you high, babe?" you giggle, leading him toward the couch. "mhm, feel really good." he hums, and the next thing you know, he's pulled you down onto the sofa and buried his head in your chest. "so comfy.." it doesn't matter that his antics attract the stares of other partygoers, he will cuddle you in front of everybody and he'll do it without a hint of shame.

ಇ 𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗝𝗜 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗠𝗔. hanma will swear up and down that nothing's better than a cigarette after sex. but sometimes, he takes it step beyond that— rolling a fat blunt and lighting it up while you two lay naked in bed. he's never embodied his tattoo more than he does when he blows the smoke out from his nose; he's the personification of sin and temptation with the blunt perched between his fingers. he offers it to you but when you go to take it from him, he lifts it up out of your reach. "you want a hit, doll?" there's a smirk on his face as he blows the smoke directly into your face, and it only grows when you start to pout. "open." you follow the simple command without hesitation and you're rewarded for it when he brings the blunt to your parted lips, holding it for you while you inhale. he doesn't miss the way your eyes turn glassy from the high. in fact, it makes him hard all over again and by the time he's putting out the roach on the ashtray, he's ready for round two.

ಇ 𝗦𝗘𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗨 𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗜. inui has a couple of guilty pleasures and one of them is smoking right before bed. he'll pick out an indica that's sure to help him sleep and pack his bowl full of it. you can visibly see the tension leech out of his body, his shoulders sagging lower with every hit he takes. most nights, he'll doze off after finishing it, but if he manages to stay awake long enough for you to join him in bed, he'll pull you close and wrap his arms around you. soft lips pepper kisses against the crook of your neck, and when you laugh and tell him it tickles, he tightens his hold on you and starts sucking a bruise into your skin. "this tickle too?" he murmurs, knowing damn well what he's doing. his hands slip beneath your shirt, squeezing your tits and playing with your nipples until they're poking through the fabric. then, he sheathes himself inside of you, making you warm his cock while he drifts off to sleep.

ಇ 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗨𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗬𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗭𝗨. sanzu is all about optimizing his pleasure and one way he does this is by smoking while he fucks you. you'll be on your hands and knees, back bent into a pretty arch as he thrusts against your backside. his pace is steady but brutal, one hand gripping your hip while the other lifts the joint to his lips. "mm, fuck.." he groans, voice raspy (from the smoke or how tightly you're squeezing him, you're not sure). "that's it— haah, yeah, that's it, angel. take this fuckin' cock." if he's feeling generous, he'll lean over you and extend the joint out for you to take a hit, but oftentimes, you're being fucked too hard to even think about accepting the offer. if, on the off chance, you are able to take a hit or two, you severely start to struggle holding yourself up. but he takes it in stride, pushing you down so your stomach is flat against the bed, cheek pressed against the sheets. "there you go, just lay down and take it."

ಇ 𝗪𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗦𝗔 𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜. not only is wakasa a stoner, but he's also a plug. he stays stocked up with flower, wax, and cartridges; and he has a revolving door of customers at his disposal with tokyo university located half an hour away. he smokes several times a day every day, and he's built up an insane tolerance as a result. when you come over to hang out, he'll easily face a blunt while giving you your own to hit as you please. "you tryna keep up with me, princess? don't overdo it." but really, he wouldn't mind if you did. you're so cute when you're high out of your mind, so pliant in his hands. his teasingly lips brush over yours, so lightly it can hardly be considered a kiss, before he shotguns the smoke into your awaiting mouth. though, if you truly do start to get too faded, he'll pluck the blunt right out of your hands and put it out. "aht," he chides, "that's enough. can't have you greenin' out on me, can i?"

ಇ 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗢. shinichiro is a lightweight compared to his best friend, not because he doesn't have access to weed, but because he really only smokes it on special occasions. for his last birthday, wakasa brought over some wax and shinichiro could only blink when his friend pulled a blow torch out from his bag. after some convincing, he took several hits, but he nearly coughed up a lung in the process. that was the highest you've ever seen your boyfriend— too stoned to even keep his head from falling over against his shoulders. "you good, shin?" he nods slowly in response, eyelids drooping as if they're being weighed down by something heavy. he stayed on the couch for the rest of the day, asking you to make him something to eat every couple of hours. "shit.." he mutters to himself, "food really does taste better when you're high." you and wakasa got quite the kick out of his blissed out state.

#♡⃕ tokyo revengers #tw weed #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #draken x reader #draken x you #baji x reader #baji x you #mitsuya x reader #mitsuya x you #hanma x reader #hanma x you #inui x reader #sanzu x reader #sanzu x you #wakasa x reader #wakasa x you #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro x y/n

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spiriteddreams · 10 months

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Forever

— "You said forever, and I almost bought it / I still love you, I promise.” (Gracie Abrams) Pairing: Jing Yuan x Reader Warnings: angst, happy ending (i promise) Word Count: ~2.3k

Forever is just a word. Sickly sweet off the tongue and a hard pill to swallow even after years, the wind returns to whisper it in your ear when you see him again. He stands at the other end of the room, talking to strangers and old friends with ease. He commands the attention of the room without having to ask, people gravitating towards him and showering him with praise and well wishes. Jing Yuan is a natural leader, graced with a lazy and a reassuring smile and warm tone that soothes over the worries of the soldiers that he commands. Once upon a time, that warm tone filled the privacy of your room, four closed off walls where you lay buried beneath sheets and tangled limbs with someone who made a promise he couldn’t keep. Your chest tightens at the thought and you allow yourself a moment longer to watch from a distance.

They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder and yet you can’t tell if this feeling in your chest is fondness, heartbreak, or something more cruel. A part of you misses him. You miss the soft caress of calloused fingers tracing along your skin, drawing invisible patterns forever inked in swirls and asymmetrical hearts. You miss the late nights with bottles of alcohol tucked beneath coats as you snuck away from gatherings. You miss him.

Attending a party hosted by Yukong would no doubt mean seeing him, and yet that selfish part of you crept up and goaded you into accepting the invitation. It hadn’t helped that sweet Yanqing had run into you at a cafe just two weeks prior, eager eyed and brimming with excitement as he asked if you would attend. So you find yourself dressed in something nice and swiped a glass of something bubbly from the nearest platter upon entering. The drink is bittersweet on your lips, but the alcohol is warm as it washes down your throat. You wonder if you look like a mess, failing to be put together as you duck away from conversations and steer clear of his path. That doesn’t stop you from looking over to where he stands. It’s impossible not to glance over when his booming laughter catches the eyes of all.

He looks happy, you think to yourself. You grimace at the thought but can’t help but steal another glance. He looks good. And as an ex-lover, it’s not quite something you want to acknowledge because there’s a part of you that wishes that maybe he hasn’t quite moved on yet either. Two months is barely any time at all in the long span of life on the Xianzhou Luofu. It is nothing in the length of your relationship with Jing Yuan. But you wish that two months would become two years, then two hundred, and then maybe, his face would just be a blur in the back of your mind.

“(y/n), you’re here,” you pause in your hurried steps, standing up straight as you steel yourself. Seeing him from afar is one thing, seeing him standing in front of you is another. “Yukong said you might bail at the last minute.”

“Were you hoping I would?” the words come out before you can stop them. Apologies spill from your lips and Jing Yuan clears his throat, an amused smile tugging up on his lips. It’s unfair that he looks so put together when you’re falling apart in front of him. It’s humiliating.

“Would you be surprised if I said I was hoping you wouldn’t? I wanted to see you again. It feels like it’s been forever,” he steps closer. You want to scoff at his choice of words. How ironic of him. Forever.

“You said forever and I almost bought it,” you shake your head. “Is this another one of your thought out conversations that will go your way?” He doesn’t look fazed at your accusation. But something shifts in his eyes and his smile becomes more strained. His eyes search yours and you lift your chin higher and the tension around you both grows. You’re acutely aware of the looks that people shoot the two of you as they pass by, no doubt trying to catch a word of what the General and his ex-lover might have to say to one another. Anxiety festers in your chest. It was a mistake to come. The sooner you get away from this conversation, the sooner you can find Yukong and make your exit.

A cruel part of you wonders if this was all part of a plan that he had crafted. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was. After all, Jing Yuan is known for brilliant strategies that can win on the battlefield and in the game of politics. He’s always been a strategist, carefully crafting his words and attacks to strike with force. It’s one of the many lessons you’ve learned from him. When you stay by Jing Yuan’s side long enough, you learn how his brain works, how he chooses to move pawns across the board to achieve victory, how he shuts down opposition in meetings and how he shows you how he loves. The best, or perhaps worst you’ve learned is how to strike where it hurts with words that dig beneath the surface and burst beneath the skin, leaving a gaping wound that bleeds insecurities.

You wonder, when did all the lessons you learned turn to weapons against your heart. It’s not easy to love a general, it’s harder to love someone like Jing Yuan at that, someone who throws himself into work and occasionally forgets to take care of himself, to take care of you. You heard the rumours, the cruel words behind your back when you left his office in the middle of the day, humiliation painted clear as day across your face. Your own worries twisted into claims of being too overbearing and as his office watched in shocked silence as he sent you out in silence, the ground swallowed you up whole.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to bring up unpleasant memories,” he says gently. You bite the inside of your cheek and shake your head. There’s no point in starting something ugly in the midst of a party. That would only draw more attention to you both, and that was the last thing either of you needed.

“It was nice to see you again—”

“Do you want to speak elsewhere?”

You both speak at the same time before erupting into coughs and muffled apologies. It feels so childish, the way you both stand in front of one another and attempt to speak. It’s a reminder of first meetings, first dates, first loves. Look where it’s left you now.

“You don’t have anywhere else to be? Other friends to catch up with?” you question, stealing a look around at the crowd of people around you. Everyone is either far too busy conversing with one another or navigating through the crowd. You catch the eyes of nosy onlookers who turn away in a split second, embarrassed at having been caught.

Jing Yuan hums thoughtfully, “You’re the only one I’d like to catch up with.” He holds out his hand, a silent invitation for you to join. You shoot him a suspicious look, but the warm expression on his features is anything but skeptical. There’s no doubt he has some ulterior motive to this, but you allow yourself another moment of selfishness as you take his hand and allow him to tug you away from the crowd. You have no doubt that the rumours will immediately circulate the moment the doors click shut behind you.

“Forget about what everyone else will say,” his voice is a low murmur as he leads you outside. You forget that after having known him for so long, after having been with him for so long, it’s hard to hide some of the thoughts that he seems to be able to read. But you stay silent and follow after him, keeping up with his long, hurried strides as if he were in a rush. And when he finally slows down, you finally register where he’s taken you. A familiar pavilion with the sight of the Ambrosial Arbor in the background, far from the prying ears of gossip hungry people and onlookers with cameras at the ready. A place that you had once found solace in with him before it was swept away.

“Do you remember this place?” he glances over at you wryly.

You don’t humour him and snap back, “Are you playing some sort of game with me?” Jing Yuan has the nerve to look amused and you fist your hands at your side, seconds away from throwing a punch at that pretty face of his. If he wasn’t the General of the Xianxhou Luofu, you would have no qualms giving him a piece of your mind. But alas, in public, and the fact that everyone back at the party knew he had left with you, would only spark more rumours.

“General, what’s going on?” you drop part of your facade, exasperation dripping from your tone as your turn to face him fully. He doesn’t look at you, body weight leaning against the rails as he stares at the ancient tree.

“You haven’t called me that in a long time,” he hums.

You narrow your eyes. “That’s not the point,” you step closer, well aware that you’re about to cross dangerous territory. Jing Yuan is playing a game, a touchy one at that, and you’ve fallen right into it. This tightrope like situation that you’ve found yourself in is no doubt a plan he’s devised on his own and there’s a small part of you that fears what his next move will be. “Stop playing with me. I’m not some sort of stupid game to you anymore.”

“You’ve never been a game to me,” his words are quiet, but heavy as he glances over to you, furrowed eyes searching yours. “You don’t think I’ve been toying with you all this time, do you?”

You refuse to say anything. Deep down you know that Jing Yuan truly did care. That doesn’t mean you are willing to let go of your pride just yet.

“You’ve never been a game to me. Don’t you ever believe that.” Jing Yuan turns to face you fully and you lean back, surprised at his sudden actions. “I made mistakes, I know that. And I’m sorry for all that I put you through. I never meant to humiliate you.”

“That doesn’t change the face that you still did it,” you hate that the memories seem to wash back over you again. The feeling of tears prickling in the corner of your eyes as you stand in a room of people, his booming voice silencing yours, crushing you under the weight of his stare. What started as a suggestion to his plan of action, turned to your own personal concerns for his well being as tensions began to rise between you, him, and all the other people in the room. And when he finally cracked down, booming voice sharp and decisive as he ordered you to stop worrying about things that were of none of your concern, you felt that string snap. Silence enveloped the room as everyone else turned away. Perhaps you shouldn’t have let yourself become carried away with personal feelings, but how could you not have, when he was about to put his life on the line and was laying out his plan in front of you, his lover.

“You said all of those cruel things in front of everyone,” your voice wavers. Jing Yuan takes a step forward. Then another, reaching for your hand as you hastily pull back. “You kept going and all I did was sit there and take it. So how could I not think that this was all some stupid game to you?!” You know you sound unreasonable, that the pieces don’t quite connect, but that bubbling fury that’s risen has already spilled over the top. And seeing him again doesn’t make anything better. Two months is not enough time in the long span of things for you to fully come to terms with all that’s happened, and avoiding him has only made the situation worse. You let thoughts fester as you ignore his texts, cry yourself to sleep as unopened letters sit on your bedside table collecting dust with every waking day.

Before you can speak again, Jing Yuan crushes you in a hug, large hands finding their place around you as he tucks you into his body, ignorant of the way you protest weakly and tell him to stop acting like this when people might see.

“You don’t get it, do you?” his breath is shaky on your neck as he holds you. “The expression on your face has haunted me since that day. I didn’t know what to say when you showed up the next day to end things. I thought it would be for the best. I don’t deserve your forgiveness so soon, not after that, but please, Aeons please, know that I’m so sorry.” You don’t make a move to return his embrace but your relax in his hold. As if sensing your hesitation, he loosens his grip but doesn’t quite let you go, running his hands down your arms until he holds your hand. He looks vulnerable and rattled and it’s a rather unsettling sight to see him lose his composure like so.

“I miss you, I’m sorry.”

“General—”

“Jing Yuan.”

You sigh, “Jing Yuan.” He looks up at you and you sigh.

“If you’re going to break my heart, please, just lie to me one more time,” he begs.

“I’m not going to break your heart,” you say carefully. “I think it’s safe to say that neither of us have moved on. Or at least, really tried.” His grip on you tightens, as if afraid that you might pull away and leave him for real. “I’m willing to give this, us, another shot.” Your words are hesitant and he hears the uncertainty in your voice, but it’s enough for him. You’ve always been enough for him.

“I still love you, I promise,” he whispers. “And I promise I’ll keep this, forever.”

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3 a/n: i start work again tmrw pray for my 40hr weeks about to start + trying to have a super fun summer

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan #honkai star rail angst #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

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agoodroughandtumble · 5 months

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Like the Stars in the Sky Part 1 - Roronoa Zoro x Reader Drabble

Status: Ongoing

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Summary: A companion piece to A Man of Little Words

Warning(s): 18+ Language, implied smut

A/n: A Man of Little Words can be found here

Roronoa Zoro had never been one for conversations – why tell someone what he was thinking when a sword (or two) would be more than sufficient. He was one for gestures. His feelings were as perfectly obvious to him, as easy to trace as the stars in the night’s sky – moving but always consistent. The one thing he was, without fail or doubt, always consistent about was you, although like those stars in the sky the context was always moving. And although he understood with perfectly clarity the duality and contradictions of those feelings, it didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.

You annoyed him. You spoke too much. You reacted too dramatically and your face shone far too brightly. You were his own, infuriating north star. He loved you. He loved your blasé attitude. He loved that you always clung onto him when he was inside you. The soft sounds and almost intoxicating moans you made when he found a particularly sensitive spot. In his darker, needier moments he could almost convince himself that those sighs and moans were his and his alone. He hated it. Hated himself. Hated that you had slipped through the cracks, that one drunken night had turned his whole world upside down – and that he had let it. But somewhere between your warm smile and warm thighs he had lost himself completely.

Zoro was fully aware that he was putting you on a pedestal but how couldn’t he when your fingers left red lines along his spine and your thighs gripped his hips so tightly he thought his bones were going to shatter. How he welcomed it, how he needed to be needed. He’d fucked you as if it was his last night on earth, as if you were the only thing grounding him to this plane – the gravitational pull too much for him to bare. Zoro had never believed in much, but fuck if he didn’t believe in you.

As he sat by the mast listening to Usopp his eyes wander to yours. You looked relaxed, happy, completely unaware of the raging storm threatening to engulf him at any moment, so untouchable, and distant, and so, so uninterested in him. He took another sip of his sake, head tilted back, eyes now closed and tried in vain to block out the sound of your laughter at Usopp’s increasingly exaggerated heroics. He was glad to be on watch tonight so he could sneak away without any questioning looks but he couldn’t bring himself to leave just yet. Not when you were so close to him. He would indulge himself just a little, just enough that when he eventually left your warmth the sensation would still linger, like the light of a long dead star.

He must have had more sake than he realised. As he eventually forced himself to stand up, he realised – only when you were stared up at him – that his hand was outstretched towards you, and the words left his mouth before his brain had time to register what he was saying. “It’s my watch tonight – keep me company?”

[A Man of Little Words]

[Like The Stars in the Sky Part 2]

#opla #one piece #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader

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suddenlybambi · 11 months

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no touching ♥ stan marsh

pairing : stan marsh x reader

nsfw (smut) - minors DNI!!! - aged up characters (18+)

tags : p in v sex, afab reader, edging, orgasm denial, oral (m receiving), slight praise kink, slight degradation, mild sub/dom dynamics, sub!stan, dom!reader

word count : 2.1k

summary : after painting your boyfriend's nails, you instruct him he's not allowed to touch anything until they dry

masterlist

a/n - i will eventually write something other than subby men... maybe... probably... *hides the 3 more dom!reader x sub!character fic i'm working on*

“Not even just a little bit?” You pleaded, holding up the case with your colourful array of nail polish. Stan had agreed to let you paint his nails, but only with black. You had climbed on top of him as soon as he agreed so that he couldn’t escape halfway through. “Imagine if you just had red on your middle finger! Flipping people the bird would have twice the power.”

“Maybe next time,” He sighed, giving in a little. You could tell that, despite complaining and his initial refusal, he loved it. He had refused it in the past because he didn’t want to get ripped on by C̶a̶r̶t̶m̶a̶n̶ the others, but when Kenny had his done, and no one said anything, he realised he was worrying over nothing again. Plus, the look of joy on your face when he finally agreed was something he would walk over hot coals for. Even if he got the piss taken out of him, he would let you paint his nails whenever you requested.

“So you want there to be a next time?” You smirked, closing the bottle once you had finished the final touches. Next time, you could probably sneak a glittery topcoat on there without him noticing.

“Of course,” His eyes narrowed a little in a suggestive manner. “I’d let you paint them every day if it means you straddle me like this.” His hand gravitated towards your hip to keep you on his lap, but you grabbed his wrist and pulled it away at the speed of lightning.

“No, no, no!” You gasped, holding his hands out and away from him. “You can’t touch anything until your nails are dry!” You instructed, shaking your head in disapproval at his prominent pout. At that moment, an idea formed in your mind. It was a devious one, but you couldn’t help yourself. You let go of his hands and bent down to give him a kiss on the forehead before you set your plan into action.

You started off with a painfully slow roll of your hips against Stan’s. His head was thrown back, and his eyes fluttered closed as an involuntary groan slipped from his lips. Instinctively, his hand tried to return to your waist as it usually did whenever you were on top, but you grabbed his wrist again as he tried. This time, you held them above his head, noting how pretty he looked like that. If this went well, you would have to invest in some handcuffs for next time.

“No touching,” You tried and failed to hide the devilish smirk on your face as realisation dawned on him. “If you try, I’ll stop.”

“But-” He was about to protest, but one look into your eyes stopped him in his tracks. You were 100% serious. “Yes, ma’am.” The authoritative title sent butterflies right through you. You rewarded him with another roll of the hips, his growing erection making itself known through his trousers.

“Do you think you’re strong enough to do this?” You teased, feeling his body shake a little underneath you as he struggled to restrain himself from taking any action. “We can always stop?”

“No!” He gasped, tensing up and shaking his head. “Please continue.”

“Please continue…?” You echoed, trailing off at the end.

“Ma’am,” He finished. His pupils were so blown out you could barely make out the colour of his irises anymore. You smiled, grinding down against him once again, repeating the process until you were in a steady rhythm. He was struggling to contain his moans, and his hands were visibly shaking as he struggled to refrain from touching you. “More, please?”

“Do you think you deserve it?” You asked, tilting your head as you looked down at him. He nodded desperately, but you shook your head. “Use your words, my love.”

“I’ll be so good- please? I promise!” He begged, lip instinctively protruding in a pout as he spoke. “I won’t touch you at all!”

“If that nail polish smudges in the slightest….”You took his hand, carefully kissing his knuckles so as not to touch his nails. “You’ll have to watch me touch myself, and you won’t be able to do anything about it.” His hips involuntarily spasmed at the thought, but he managed to maintain as much composure as he could by lifting his hands up and to the sides so he wouldn’t use them.

“So pretty,” You leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss to his lips. “So pathetic,” He tried to chase the kiss as you pulled away, but you distracted him by tracing your lips along his jawline, swiftly finding his pulse point. You knew exactly where to go as the love bite you had left there days prior remained as a small faded mark. You decided to renew it, relishing in the soft moans that slipped through his lips as you did so.

Meanwhile, your hands busied themselves by trailing down his torso until they reached his belt, undoing it at what you knew was a painfully slow pace for him, purposefully allowing your knuckles to brush against the bulge. Just as you got the belt undone, you pulled away to inspect his neck. Satisfied with your work and the dark purple mark left behind, you kissed his lips again, which he happily melted into. As you deepened the kiss, you slid your hand down his waistband, taking a soft but firm grip on his member. The kiss barely managed to swallow the loud moan that escaped him.

You pulled away from the kiss, and he tried again to chase your lips, but you shuffled down his body to sit on his lower legs so he could no longer reach you. Bending down, your face was now in line with his crotch as you pulled his trousers and boxers down enough to release his hardened member. It sprung up as soon as you did, hitting his stomach. Wasting no time, you looked up, making direct eye contact as you swirled your tongue around the tip.

He let out a loud, involuntary whimper at the new form of contact, and you could see his hands struggle to remain still at his sides. You knew he liked nothing more than to run his hands through your hair whenever you had your pretty lips wrapped around his dick, and you had to admit that you quite liked it when he would lose himself in the moment and pull your hair, but you were in complete control this time. Hair pulling could wait until next time.

Slowly, you sunk your mouth down further onto his dick, hollowing out your cheeks as you took in as much of him as you could. His breathing laboured by the second, and you had to hold his hips down to stop him from thrusting up into your mouth. You quickly picked up the pace, bobbing your head up and down and running your tongue along the shaft. You could feel his member twitching as a sign that he was close.

“Please?” He begged, voice shakey as he spoke through his grunting and moans. “Please, can I cum?” You pulled your mouth off of him completely and smirked at him.

“No,” You whispered, shaking your head in case he hadn’t heard you. His eyes widened, and his hips struggled against the grip you had on them.

“Please?” He begged again. “Please, I need-”

“I said no,” You watched the panic on his face as he realised how serious you were, and it only increased when your lips wrapped around his throbbing dick again to continue at a torturously slow place. He was whimpering more than ever, eyes squeezed shut and head pressed against the pillow. You kept this up, pulling away as soon as you felt the telltale signs that he was close. His eyes brimmed with tears as he looked down at you after the fourth time in a row that you stopped him when he was so close.

“Please, can I cum now?” He pleaded once more, chest heaving with how heavy his breath had become. “I’ve been so good! I’ve not smudged the nail polish at all! Please?” He managed to use whatever strength he had remaining to hold his hands up for you to inspect them. Sure enough, they were in pristine condition.

Smiling down at him, you crawled back up his body, capturing him in a slow and passionate kiss, knowing he could taste his own desperation on your tongue as it easily overpowered his.

You pulled away to whisper softly in his ear. “Where do you want to cum? Me or my mouth?” His reaction was attuned to if you had just told him that he had won the lottery. His energy was renewed in an instant.

“In you!” He answered without hesitation, adding on at the last second. “Please, ma’am?”

“How can I say no when you look so pretty, and you beg so nicely?” You cooed with a smile on your face. Unfortunately for Stan, you couldn’t help but torture him just a little more as you slowly climbed off of him, stripping each item of clothing off and carefully placing them on his desk chair, making sure he saw the large damp spot on your panties that had quickly formed over the course of the teasing. You loved letting him know just how turned on you got when he was completely and utterly submissive to you.

“You’re so beautiful,” His voice was almost whimsical in nature, the words coming out as though he had meant for them to stay in his head. It made you melt. It was so sweet and sincere; you almost felt bad for edging and denying him for so long… almost.

“You’ve been so good,” You praised, grabbing a condom from the bedside cabinet. You climbed back on top of him with it once you were completely undressed. You had stripped his trousers and underwear off somewhere between the third and fourth time you edged him, but he wouldn’t let you take his shirt off for fear that it would smudge his nails. Carefully, you rolled the condom onto him as his legs shook from anticipation. “Are you ready?” You asked, lining him up with you. You hadn’t given yourself any time to prepare or adjust to him, but the teasing you had put him through had left your hole clenching around nothing, and you knew you were more than ready.

Stan eagerly nodded in confirmation, and you sunk down onto him, throwing your head back as you groaned at the feeling. You could already feel Stan’s throbbing dick twitch inside you, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on for long.

“I want-” He struggled to get his words out in between his moans and whimpers as you picked up the speed, rolling your hips to make sure he hit the right spots. “I want you to- to finish first.” You almost froze your actions in shock; after all that, he was still prioritising your pleasure? You snapped out of it when he thrust up into you. You would usually punish him for that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to when you saw the sincerity behind his eyes.

You bent down, pressing your bare chest against him as you captured his lips in another passionate kiss, threading one hand through his hair and reaching the other down to circle your clit since Stan was still unable to use his hands. When you had to break the kiss to breathe, you pressed your forehead against his, eyes closed while his soft whimpers and moans surrounded you, and you felt your core tighten.

“I’m so close,” You panted out. The energy that Stan still had amazed you. The words spurred him on, and he thrust up into you harder than before. With that, you snapped, and your orgasm rushed over you in a wave. Your walls clenched around his dick, and you felt Stan’s own orgasm as his hips stuttered. You managed to ride out your orgasm but soon collapsed against his chest, trying to catch your breath again. “You did so well.” You praised, smiling up at Stan while you nuzzled your face against his chest.

“I didn’t smudge my nails,” He proudly held them up for you to see. You tapped them slightly and smiled.

“They’re all dry now,” You confirmed, pressing a soft kiss to his fingertips. “I’ll get a washcloth to clean you up.” You were about to get up, but you were startled as Stan wrapped his arms around you and flipped you over so he was on top. Your eyes widened as he looked down at you with a smug smirk.

“Oh, no,” He shook his head, hand coming up to lightly pin you to the cushion by the neck. Your heart raced as you saw the look in his eyes, knowing the tables had been turned. “I think it’s my turn now.”

#stan marsh x reader #stan marsh smut #south park smut #south park stan #south park fanfiction #south park fic #sp stan #sp stan smut

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justauthoring · 1 year

Text

catalyst.

*catalyst: a person or thing that precipitates an event.

pairing: manjirou “mikey” sano x f!reader

a/n: i have no idea where this is supposed to take place in the canon timeline lol, i just want to write something angst for mikey and i find his character so fascinating.

warnings: kisaki lol, death.

You were the catalyst for everything.

Kisaki Tetta knew that now.

Months of carefully crafted plans repeatedly ruined; his everlasting plan to mold Mikey into the perfect leader for the gang he envisioned had failed right before his own eyes more times than he could count on one hand. Forced to watch as it all fell apart and he’d been made to look like a fool in front of those he demanded respect from enough to have Kisaki fuming with humiliation and anger.

The worst part? You didn’t even know it.

It wasn’t like you’d figured him out, or had any suspicions like he knew a few others did. You were none the wiser to Kisaki, and every time you had interacted with him, you’d been nothing but completely pleasant and warm. You, with your bright smile and twinkling eyes and that sweet voice of yours that could carry on for hours without fault. You were friendly, incredibly so, able to talk to anyone and everyone and never stumble over your words or wonder what to say. People gravitated towards you, and you let them.

Kisaki was just another face that you greeted occasionally, a member of your boyfriends organization that you always made sure to show respect to. You didn’t have a single idea of what darkness resided in Kisaki’s mind or the things he wanted to do, specifically to your boyfriend.

But you were warm and you were glowing, an ethereal presence amongst Mikey that constantly pulled him back in when he slipped just a little too far into the darkness. Mikey’s eyes shined when he was with you, even had a sparkle of life to them as he smiled at you, giddy and completely in love, and all it took was the mere mention of you, and Mikey would remind himself of who he was and that was that.

Mikey had lost more than he could process, but he still had you.

Kisaki knew that now, as he watched Mikey dote on you, a single poke on your nose that had you blushing as you wiped at the crumbs on the corner of your lips of the snack he’d given you. Mikey never shared with anyone – well, anyone but you. And Kisaki felt positively sick as he watched the two of you, a pure hatred that was so unfairly focused completely on you, a glint in his gaze as let his eyes wander across the reason for all of his failings.

You were the reason for everything, and Kisaki had every intention of changing that.

You were a piece of the puzzle that was no longer needed.

Fingers digging into Mikey’s jacket, you hold fast, feeling the wind whip through your hair, making your eyes sting and your heart race.

Mikey’s laughing, blissfully unaware of the deep fear coursing through your veins as you press your face into his back and shut your eyes. He’d told you this would be fun, and even if you’d been skeptical, you’d believed him. You know how Mikey loves going on rides and you always felt bad that you never go with him; so you’d mustered up your courage and pushed back your fear and agreed to go on one with him.

You were now severely regretting that fact.

If it had been anyone else, you would’ve screamed at them to stop. But you hold back your own terror for Mikey’s sake, trying to take pleasure in the feeling of being so close to him and ignore the way you constantly feel like you’re about to be taken by the wind and go flying off.

When Mikey finally stops, you accept his hand with shaky legs, gripping onto him tightly enough so that you don’t fall flat on your face.

“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Mikey lightly laughs, taking in the paleness of your skin and the way you can barely stand.

“It was awful,” you huff, bracing yourself against the wall slightly away from him. “I’ve never been more scared before in my life.”

But Mikey just smiles; “I’d never let anything happen to you.”

And your eyes fall on him, stunned by his confession as your lips part and a soft blush falls across your cheeks. But still, despite your surprise, your answer comes with ease; “of course,” you nod, “I know.” Then, almost like an afterthought, you can’t help but pout. “Doesn’t make it any less scary though.”

He makes his way over to you, brushing back a strand of hair that had fallen in your face, letting his fingers run through your hair with a fond smile that is only ever reserved for you. You find yourself mesmerized with the way he stares at you, gaze so soft, so adoring that it takes your breath away every time you’re faced with it.

Only Mikey can ever make you feel this way; an indescribable warmth that flows through you and makes your insides feel like butterflies and your legs feel like jelly (even more than they already do). Mikey had a way about him, always has, for as long as you’ve known him, his charm is soft and gentle but it makes you a blushing mess every single time.

You’d do anything Mikey asked of you – that you’re sure of.

“Was it that scary?”

You concede at that, shoulders falling; “no,” you admit, unable to say anything else with the way he’s looking at you. “Just takes some getting used to.”

His face brightens then, a kid-like glow of excitement washing over his face. “You’ll go on a ride with me again then?”

If it had been anyone else, you would’ve said no; unable to deny the way your heart is still racing and you feel like throwing up.

But, this is Mikey.

“Of course.”

You were entirely too trusting.

Mikey had told you that a million times, that you shouldn’t be, exasperated at the way you trusted anyone's word and simply said yes to anything someone asked of you. It didn’t matter who and it didn’t matter what; if you were capable of helping, you would.

It’s why when Kisaki asks you to follow him, saying he wants your help for a surprise he’s working on for Mikey, you just smile and nod, letting him lead you away. You’re blissfully unaware of the dark, looming threat that peers over your shoulder. The smirk on Kisaki’s face is perceived as a smile, and you mimic one back to him, head tilted and eyes crinkled in warmth as you nod, not even questioning when Kisaki leads you into what looks like an abandoned building.

He must just want to keep the surprise secret, you figure.

And you continue to think nothing of it until there’s a smack against the back of your head, and your vision blurs, body wobbling as Kisaki’s name leaves your lips in a echoed gasp of a mixture of surprise and pain, collapsing on the ground with a resounding thud. Your vision continues to darken until it turns black completely, the last thing you’re able to register is Kisaki's looming figure over your own, that same smirk that suddenly looks more sinister than you remember it looking staring back at you.

You’re fourteen when Mikey kisses you for the first time.

You’re both young, stupid teenagers that barely know what commitment really means or what the weight of a relationship is supposed to promise. But you don’t really care either way. You’re completely smitten with Mikey, unable to tear yourself from his side, wanting to spend every waking moment with him, even if that involves simply following him around.

And Mikey feels the exact same.

It’s why he kisses you that day after school.

He can’t hide his feelings anymore. You erupt a fire in him that he can’t ignore, this itch to be closer, be more with you… When Mikey pulls you from class that day, tugging you all the way outside until he tucks you into a corner away from prying eyes, he doesn’t even say anything before his lips press against your own. And yet, there’s not even a moment of hesitation from you. The kiss is a shock, Mikey knows that, but when his lips press against your own, you’re responding with as much want as him.

The kiss is messy, sloppy and just what you’d imagine two fourteen year old's to kiss like.

It’s still the best kiss of your life though.

When Mikey pulls away, he’s breathless, chest rising and falling with every breath he inhales and you’re bright red, embarrassed but completely euphoric at the fact that Mikey had finally, finally kissed you.

You giggle when he meets your eyes and he grins wide.

It’s the first time you see that sparkle in his eyes you haven’t seen since his brother's death, a bit of life returning to his gaze as you set your hand on your cheek. Your touch is gentle, unsure at first, before you let yourself relax, petting his cheek with your thumb, unable to tear your eyes away from his own.

Mikey can’t either.

“I love you,” you admit, breathless.

And he says it back too, just as breathless. Just as smitten. “I love you too.”

You’re both fourteen. Young and dumb and teenagers.

And yet, you know you mean it when you tell him you love him.

You know he means it too.

You’re not returning his texts.

You never go more than a few hours without texting him back. But it’s been two days.

At first Mikey had tried to convince himself you were just busy – he remembered you saying you had a lot of work to catch up on and so he eases his mind with that; you’re just busy.

But when you’ve been busy in the past, it hasn't stopped you from texting him back. Even a simple “hey <3”.

Mikey starts to panic. Time starts to tick and the panic worsens, this weight pressing on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. He can’t think straight, he can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t do anything but worry about where you are. He wants to hold you, wants to have you close, kiss you… anything. He doesn’t care what, Mikey just needs you.

He cannot lose you.

It’s a fact he knows without even the slightest bit of doubt. Mikey perhaps understands himself better than most think he does – he’s not stupid enough to not realize the dark thoughts that course through his mind. He’s found himself slipping into them more than he can count, shrouded in darkness repeatedly, and the person that has always brought him back was you.

Always you.

Smiling at him, calling for him, hands on his cheeks as you kiss him so passionately, with love unlike he’s ever felt before.

After all he’s lost, all he’s suffered.., sure, he still has his friends… still had Toman. But through the darkness, you’re always on the other side of it, the light at the end of the tunnel, and Mikey knows without a doubt that you are what’s holding him together.

He cannot lose you.

A knock on his door pulls himself from his thoughts. His eyes snap to the door as it slowly opens, Draken’s head popping through.

Mikey straightens, shoulders tensing.

“We found her,” Draken says, “we know where she is.”

The fact that Draken doesn’t elaborate doesn’t escape Mikey, but he hardly cares. The mention of finding you is all that matters and he’s jumping to his feet before he even realizes, grabbing his jacket on the way; “where.” His voice is dark, sharp, demanding the answer right then and there.

He needs to get to you.

“An abandoned building just twenty minutes from here,” Draken explains, eyes never leaving Mikey. He continues to watch him, silent, until Mikey moves to step past him and then Draken’s hand falls on his shoulder, grip tight, halting his steps. “Mikey.”

His voice is low, thick.

Mikey hesitates, eyes turning to his friend, a glare set on his features; “what?”

“What happens if you find her there and she’s…” Draken doesn’t even want to say it. You’re his friend too. “What if she’s dead?”

“She’s not.”

And Mikey isn’t even sure if he believes the words. The fear is crawling up the back of his throat and he’s finding it hard to focus on anything other then this horrible feeling welling deep within him.

“We don’t know who took her, we don’t even know why.” Draken reminds, desperate for him to listen, for Mikey’s sake more than anything. “Mikey…”

“She’s alive,” Mikey says, eyes never turning away from Drakens. “I know it.”

Mikey knew from the moment he saw you, you were the one.

Tears pouring down your face, cheeks red, snot-nosed, your pretty pink blouse all mucked up with dirt and mud – and yet, you stand strong, tall, in front of the boys who’d kicked you down in the first place. You’re scared, shaking, but you don’t let it show in your face. Through the tears, your glare is harsh and your lips are set tight, in a straight line, and you don’t waver from your position.

Behind you, a kitten is curled up on the ground.

Mike doesn’t even really understand it. Doesn’t even realize he’s moved until he has. There’s four boys surrounding you, cornering you, moving to grab at you, pull at you, hurt you and despite knowing that, you don’t move. Your focus is wholly on the cat behind you, desperate to keep it safe, and Mikey likes the way you stand up even if you have no chance of winning.

Even if you’ve already lost.

Reminds him of someone he knows.

He knocks the four boys down with ease. Two of them go down before they even realize what’s happening, and even then the other two don’t manage to do much before they get a nasty kick to their faces, sending them flying and landing straight in the dirt. When they get up, it’s in fear and all four of them go running without even a single glance in your direction.

When it’s just the two of you, MIkey stares back at you only to see you staring at him with awe.

The tears have since dried on your cheeks, just a stained reminder, but you’re no longer sniffling or shaking. Instead, your eyes are glowing with admiration and your fists are clenched in front of you tightly in excitement.

“Can you teach me how to do that?”

Mikey blinks at you, that having been the last thing he expected.

But then, as the surprise fades, he finds himself laughing; “you wouldn’t be able to kick like me.” He says it in with a air of cockiness, hands falling on his hips as he stares back at you.

You pout then, clenching your fists at your side; “I so could!” You declare, “just because I’m a girl, doesn’t mean I can’t fight.”

And Mikey, oddly, believes you.

He doesn’t say anything in response, though, simply lets his gaze lower, to the cat behind you, and it takes you a moment, but slowly you follow his gaze, reminded of why you’d been there in the first place. Your entire demeanor changes then, face softening and body easing as you scoop the cat up in your arms. It doesn’t fight you, easing into the warmth of another, and you pet it softly, hushing it.

“Is it your cat?”

You turn back to Mikey at his question, shaking your head; “no. Just saw them kicking at her,” you explain with a frown. “It’s just a cat.” And it’s simple; as if that’s all the explanation you needed.

It is.

“Yeah,” Mikey shrugs, eyeing the nasty bruise on your cheek, “but you got hurt because of it.”

“I’d rather get hurt than let someone who can’t defend themselves get hurt.” you huff, as if that’s obvious. But the annoyance from your face fades as you turn back to him, beaming brightly as you meet his eyes. “Besides, you came to save me anyways.”

You send him a toothy grin, and Mikey blinks, face falling with bafflement as he stares back at you.

He... saved you?

“My hero,” you grin, without wavering confidence. You say it like you’ve known Mikey for years, as if this wasn’t the first the two of you have spoken, like you have no doubt in your mind that Mikey will continue to do just that -- save you.

Then you add, a toothy grin on your lips, “until I can learn to fight like you.”

To be honest, Mikey finds he likes being your hero.

He finds you too late.

You’ve bled out, stabbed twice. Your hands are tied behind your back, your mouth gagged, dried tears streaming from your eyes, staining your cheeks. Your skin is pale, eyes lifeless, and even as Mikey pulls you into his arms, freeing your arms, you don’t move. You don’t say anything.

You're dead.

He’d been too late.

Draken who stands behind him doesn’t say anything. Nor does the rest of Toman. His friends stay eerily silent, some crying, some in shock, but no one moves. No one says a single thing.

Mikey feels like he’s floating. He’s staring at you, he knows you're dead, can feel your body growing cold in his arms, but he finds himself unable to say anything. When his hands move to remove your gag, there’s a moment where everything freezes.

A long, terrifying moment where nothing happens.

And then he feels his eyes watering and his vision blurring when, as seconds pass, you still don’t move.

Mikey knows you’re dead, somewhere deep in the back of his mind. Of course he does. But half of him still expects you to move, to say something, to smile at him, with those eyes of yours he loves; a stupid, naïve part of him that can’t accept that you are dead. Because, you can’t be. Any moment now, you’d move, smile at him, say his name and it’d all be okay.

You don’t, of course, you’re completely still in his arms, limp and unmoving and gone.

Just gone.

He’s sobbing. Mikey doesn’t even realize it.

He’s screaming your name, screaming for you.

Mikey doesn’t hear himself.

Your hero.

What a joke.

And as his world darkens, and everything slips away from him, he’s unaware of the glinting eyes that stare at his back.

Everything happened according to plan. Finally.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokrev #tokrev x reader #mikey #mikey x reader #mikey imagine #manjiro sano #manjiro sano x reader

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daechwitatamic · 10 months

Text

3. Libration || KSJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Amalthea (Masterpost) - Part 3: Libration

Rating: NSFW - minors go away i mean it Genre: best friend's older brother!au, angst smut fluff trifecta Pairing: Seokjin x female reader Beta team: @yoongiphoria, @here2bbtstrash, @kookstempo

Summary: You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Warnings: language, drinking, angst, kissing, implied protected s*x/ kind of the immediate aftermath to it, TIME JUMPS, boners lol, nip stim, groping, fingering, explicit protected s*x, multiple orgasms (f. receiving), dom reader but barely, reader on top WC: 14k

Part 3: Libration

Libration: (noun) A slight tilting of the Moon over time that brings parts of the Moon that are normally obscured into view

For his entire life, Seokjin’s fingers had begged to reach for you. If he was practiced at anything, a master of any skill, it was holding them still, tamping them down, busying them with game controls or swiping a screen to stop them on their pilgrimage towards yours.

He’d almost told you so many times. Without fail, every single time, he’d chicken out.

Like the morning his dad had driven him to campus for the first time, the car loaded up with everything he wanted to bring along. It was one of those late summer days, the whole season setting like the sun. It felt like endings. Seokjin had been really in his feelings about it, to be honest.

He’d leaned against the car, arms crossed, as you stood staring back at him. Waiting. Waiting to say goodbye.

Your whole lives, you’d never asked him for anything, just stayed constant and steady in his life. Not a lot of things felt steady in his life - hadn’t since he’d lost his mom back when Jungkook was a baby. But you did. You were unwavering, just there when he needed calm, consistency, dependability. Seokjin usually leaned into the chaos of his life, of his siblings, of his sometimes noisy and goofy personality. But when he needed it - the quiet retreat - somehow he always pictured you. Like you were his quiet place.

You were standing there, waiting for something before he left this small town for bigger and better things, and he was stalling.

What could he say to you as a goodbye?

Would don’t forget me make him seem too pathetic? God, yeah, it sounded like he was dying. He was a nineteen year old moving away to college, not the ghost of a murder victim whispering avenge me into the wind. For fuck’s sake.

Come visit? That was less dramatic - more direct. It said what he wanted… for you to stay in his life, stay in his universe. That was good, that would work.

He was just working up the courage to say it when you seemed to give up on him, shifting your weight and asking, “See you at Christmas?”

Disgusted with himself, he’d nodded mutely. You’re an idiot, Seokjin, he thought, watching you disappear into his father’s house.

Another opportunity wasted. Another trip around the sun - without you - stuttering to a start.

–

It was hard to be around you. Maybe that was pitiful but it was Seokjin’s truth.

Still, every time he came home from university and saw you again, it always felt the same. It surprised him every time, caught him off-guard. It felt like getting slammed with damn, I’m happy to see you again, damn, I didn’t realize how much I’d missed you, damn, you look good these days.

And that’s where it crashed to a halt. It was a dead-end, just like the one you both grew up on. He couldn’t go there. Minji would destroy his life if he got entangled with her best friend, he was sure of it. Plus, you were in different cities for college, living separate lives. Your future paths weren’t meant to intersect. It just didn’t make sense to start something that could just end up ruining things between everyone, including you and Minji’s friendship.

So, at your parents’ Christmas Eve dinner his senior year, when he was twenty-one and you were nineteen, he stayed holed up in the living room with Jungkook, avoiding you entirely. He stood at the side of the room, bored and wishing he were home with a game instead of avoiding eye contact with all the real adults around him. He sent Jungkook into the kitchen to get him a beer, knowing if he went in there himself he’d stay. Nothing good could come of it.

He still found himself staring at you through the doorway as you sat next to his sister in the kitchen, your laugh bouncing out to him. He wanted so badly to join you, to be the one making you laugh as he had almost his whole life.

You were a supernova, exploding before his eyes, but he couldn’t look away. When you’d looked up and caught him staring, he felt himself flush from head to toe.

He had to stay away from you; it was the only way to stay sane.

The next morning he’d woken early, dehydration toying with him, sending him scavenging to the kitchen in search of water, or something caffeinated.

The universe laughed at him long and loud, and placed you in his kitchen, in thin, pink and grey pajamas that barely covered your ass, did nothing to hide your tits. You’d crossed your arms self-consciously, and Seokjin hurried to face the sink, filling the kettle as a distraction, so that you wouldn’t spot his semi.

He could feel your eyes on him, the air between you rife with tension, and he dreaded whatever it was you were going to say, or ask him - dreaded the moment he’d have to turn around to answer you to avoid looking rude.

Instead, you spared him, vanishing back down the hallway as silently as you’d come. He’d heaved a sigh, running a palm down his hardening dick for relief, and headed for the bathroom. It was cold shower o’clock, apparently.

–

He graduated the following May, moved back home. Prepared resumes and cover letters and started sending them out by the dozens. Prayed someone, anyone, would hire him.

His dad threw him a graduation party, even though Seokjin told him over and over again that he didn’t want or need it. The house full of people - all there to see him, to ask him what his plans were when he had none - stressed him out.

He’d stuck to Jungkook all day, his safety blanket. It shouldn’t be like that - Jungkook was the baby, and an introvert, too. But having Jungkook as a buffer helped Jin feel less looked at, helped keep his neck from flushing deep red all day long. And Jungkook was a good brother - he understood, without them even talking about it. He stayed close, talked to all the relatives cheerfully, bunny nose scrunching as he smiled. Not like Minji, terrible sister, who abandoned him to die with all the aunts and uncles and cousins, disappearing into the house.

Even with the Jungkook buffer, he could only take so much. By nine o’clock, as the sky darkened slowly, the blues leaking away and turning inkier, his social battery was shot. A lot of the attendees had said their goodbyes by then, and he felt like it was safe for him to slip away.

He retreated to his own room, flopping onto his bed and pulling up a webtoon that had updated the day before. He’d been saving it for a time of need. Like now.

He wasn’t sure how he got clued into your presence in the hallway - you hadn’t made any noise. But he’d spotted you, called your name. His heart raced with possibility when you tentatively stepped into the dark of his room.

When you asked - voice small, unsure - if you could join him, he’d gone stupid, hadn’t even been able to think of the word “yes”. He’d had to answer by moving over to make room for you, hoping you’d understand.

You laying next to him, even with the space between you, felt amazing. Seokjin scrolled the webtoon every time you said “okay,” but he didn’t read a word of it. All he could focus on was stopping the words from tumbling from his mouth, stopping himself from throwing his phone across the room and rolling to cover your body with his own.

He kept it in check until he heard your breathing deepen. He glanced down to confirm - you’d fallen asleep. He clicked his phone screen off, his arms aching from holding it aloft for so long. Then he lay there, taking in the silence, watching your face as you dreamed. Ever so softly, he’d reached out a tentative finger and brushed it along your cheek. He had let himself touch you so few times, even in small, innocent ways. This felt like a rich indulgence, like the treat of all treats.

Smiling, chest feeling so full something might crack, he’d closed his eyes, eventually falling asleep by matching his breathing to yours, inhale to inhale, exhale to exhale.

He woke up sometime before dawn, jumping in his sleep. Something had alarmed him, told his brain there was danger. It was still very dark in his room, the only light coming from under his door from the hallway. You’d turned away from him in your sleep, your feet resting lightly on his shins, your legs curled.

Seokjin smiled, reached to brush your hair away from your face. When you didn’t stir, he got comfortable again, rolling to face your back, gingerly reaching an arm over you and letting his hand rest on the mattress near your stomach. In your sleep, you pressed back against him, shuffling into his embrace, then stilling again. He fell back to sleep breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

When he woke up for real, long after sunrise, you were gone, his bed empty. He checked his phone almost frantically, but you hadn’t texted.

He spent all day agonizing over it - should he reach out? Did he need to apologize? Were you freaking out, did you need him to tell you to breathe, that it was okay? But in the end, he said nothing, afraid anything he sent would just make things worse.

–

Jin spent the eve of his twenty-third birthday at a bar. You and Minji (and Jungkook, that year) were away at school for a few more weeks before winter break would begin. It was loud and crowded, the walls adorned with street signs and sardonic posters, neon beer signs, a few backlit clocks that all read different times. He threw back shots, paid for none of them as the birthday boy, surrounded by friends from college and home.

His phone buzzed at midnight on the dot, as the friends around him cheered and pounded him on the back. When he saw your name on his screen, everyone around him fell away, like they didn’t even exist. Ignored everyone around him, sat and blatantly texted you back, unashamed to be neglecting his own celebration.

Getting baja blasted with your sister, you’d sent him, and he had laughed out loud at the bar, pressing fingers to his eyes as if he could erase the mental picture, shoulders still shaking.

“What’s wrong?” someone asked him, peering over his shoulder.

“Yah,” he’d said, still laughing. “Baja blasted, is that what the kids are calling it these days? Am I that old, already, one minute into my twenty-third year?”

They’d laughed, reading the text, ribbing him about Minji’s delinquent college behavior. One of his friends, a girl with shoulder-length dark red hair, had sent him a sideways look. “This girl is texting you at midnight for your birthday, huh?” she’d asked, lips pursing with amusement. “You know what that means.”

“What does that mean?” Jin echoed, turning to face her, and her smile had grown, a gotcha.

“The only time I’ve ever done that in my life,” she told him, “is for my best friend, or for my boyfriends.”

They’d teased him about his red ears for the next hour and a half.

–

Back to avoiding, back to trying to bury it deep down. Back to failing miserably.

You and Minji lounged in the backyard, your conversation floating in low murmurs up through the open windows as Seokjin sat at the kitchen table, scrolling on his phone.

He heard only snippets - I broke up with that guy, I just wasn’t feeling it.

Immediately interested, he rose, drifting towards the open kitchen window, ears perked.

“No one sticks,” Minji said. “I worry about you.”

“None of them were right,” you told her. “Someone will be.”

“How will you know when it’s right?”

And then the door slammed open, causing Seokjin to jump in his skin.

You’d been pissed, eyes narrowed, voice tight as you accused him of listening in. But Seokjin could only think about what he’d heard, how he’d wondered the same thing over these years.

Time to stop chickening out. “How come no one sticks?” he asked.

“What?”

He spoke slowly, deliberately. “Why haven’t any of the guys you’ve dated lasted?”

He needed to know. He needed to know - what was the reason? Were you both wasting time, revolving idly in place? Could it be possible that you, like him, hadn’t been willing to give someone else a chance if it meant jeopardizing this, even if “this” was practically nothing?

“What am I supposed to say to that? Jin, what do I say to that?” You’d looked absolutely shattered, and he couldn’t help but step closer, reach for your hand. It was cool in his, and he felt like he was holding something fragile - like his touch could cause it to crumble into dust if he wasn’t gentle enough.

Say you want me, he wanted to say.

Maybe you would have.

But Minji - terrible sister - had ruined his life, coming through the kitchen door, already talking at the top of her lungs. Jin had made his escape as soon as he could, vanishing down the hallway towards his room.

He moved out - far away, an airplane ride away to a new skyline and a new job - six months later.

–

Twenty-six hadn’t started great for Seokjin. Normally he was a fan of having his birthday in December, during the start of the Christmas season. When he was a kid, it had felt like all the lights and decorations were a bit for him. But since moving to his new city three years prior, working his new job, the holidays were more of a hassle. Amazing how airports can ruin a good thing.

Case in point - his flight got delayed because of a snowstorm. Only by two hours, and he didn’t have to make a connection, so all things considered it wasn’t the end of the world. But he did miss Christmas Eve dinner at your parents’ house.

He’d called Minji from the airport after he landed, as he waited at baggage claim.

“Come anyway,” she’d begged him. “We never see you. Y/N’s parents have asked about you a hundred and fifty times.”

In retrospect, it might have been nice if Minji had mentioned that you had a boyfriend with you. Just as a little heads up. But Minji was a terrible sister. Or maybe the problem was that she had no idea Seokjin would even care.

Either way, it had ended like this.

His taxi had pulled up outside his dad’s house. He’d dragged his suitcase up the walk and through the front door, leaving it unceremoniously next to the couch to wait for him. He’d checked his hair in the decorative mirror near the front door and slipped back outside, heading to the brightly lit house across the street.

He’d shaken his hands as he walked, trying to get the nerves to fly from his fingers. It’s like they knew you were close.

He’d let himself into your parents’ house, instrumental Christmas music and loud conversations hitting him the second the door opened an inch.

Minji had cried, “Jinnie!” and he’d looked up from taking his boots off. His eyes had found you immediately, near the side of the crowded room. You were leaning comfortably against a man.

A man. A man who took one look at Seokjin, then down at your face, and then reached an arm around your waist. He pulled you in, making you hop a little as you were pulled off-balance.

Seokjin’s stomach had twisted, and he’d felt almost like he would be sick, like he was suddenly hungover without drinking a drop.

He’d had to pull it together. He’d stepped inside, accepting Minji’s enthusiastic hug. Terrible sister, trying to hug him when he was having a meltdown. He’d given you a quick one-arm almost-hug, fingers hovering over your shoulder, not even daring to touch you. He’d smiled wide when you’d introduced “my boyfriend, Daniel”, shook the guy’s hand and tried not to squeeze it too aggressively.

Boyfriend. He really did want to throw up. When he’d asked you why no one stuck, he hadn’t thought you’d take it as a dare.

He’d extracted himself from the group and went to find his dad and your parents, to say hello. Then he’d hidden with Jungkook for the rest of the night. History repeats itself, and all that.

It was a little funny, in hindsight. He’d been nearly sick over the boyfriend. But he’d met Chelsea less than two months later.

–

He’d met Chelsea at work when he was twenty-six. She was contracted by the company for a job, short-term - not a coworker. She was pretty, competent. Seokjin had felt weird, for a second, when he caught himself watching her walk away from his desk one morning, her ponytail swinging behind her. But then he’d pictured Daniel’s arm around your waist at Christmas.

What are you doing? he’d asked himself. All the years he’d spent just outside your reach seemed to hover before him like a planetary alignment. Where had it gotten either of you? Maybe you were the smarter one, the braver one. He was thinking of the time he’d asked why none of your boyfriends lasted - but at least you were out there trying. He couldn’t really say the same thing. He’d had his fun through college, certainly. But he’d known every time that his heart wasn’t in it.

Maybe it was time to try.

He’d caught her in the break room on her last day of the project. She’d blushed when he asked her out, her smile more surprised than anything else. Their first date had gone well. Their third date had gone even better.

He didn’t go home that summer. Things with Chelsea fell into place - pieces clicking together the way they were supposed to in adult relationships. They’d agreed to start being exclusive. She’d called him her boyfriend on the phone with her best friend Lara, lounging on his couch one afternoon, and he’d looked up from the game he was playing, fingers frozen on the controls, eyes wide.

After she’d hung up, she’d asked, “Was that not okay? We’ve been exclusive for months, it just… felt kind of natural.”

“No,” he’d assured her, reaching out and placing a hand on her knee. She’d covered it with her own, looking at him through her lashes, waiting for his answer. “It was okay. I was just surprised.”

She’d moved in before the leaves started to turn, half of his closet suddenly full of blouses and skirts, oat milk in his fridge where there used to be beer bottles, tampon boxes under his sink where there used to be cleaning supplies.

Warm smiles when he’d make a stupid pun. Slender fingers in his during evening walks. Breathy whispers when they were tangled together in the dark.

Demands of “Why didn’t you answer your phone?” after long meetings at work. Silence from the other side of the couch over a slight he couldn’t even name. The scratchy material of the couch cushions after a night ejected from his own bed.

The leaves turned. Fell. Blew away.

Soft murmurs of concern when he’d tell about a bad day. Bursting into laughter after saying the same thing at the same time, following it with, “We’re turning into each other.” Coming home to find his favorite snacks in the cabinets, his laundry folded on the end of the bed.

A hollow feeling in the pit of Seokjin’s stomach the first time she whispered, “I think I’m in love with you.”

The taste of battery acid on his tongue when he lied to her face and told her he was, too.

They broke up three days before Christmas. It was too late to get a flight.

Seokjin spent the holidays alone.

Twenty-seven sucked worse than twenty-six.

She showed up three weeks into January, peering up at him through red-rimmed eyes. “Do you th-think…” she’d asked, voice wavering, after pouring out apology after apology, “maybe we could try again?”

Maybe I can love her, he’d thought. He’d hoped.

They broke up again before the end of February. Got back together in April after Seokjin called her, drunk and lonely. Broke up again in July after she smashed one of his favorite coffee mugs on the kitchen floor and screamed at him that he was a liar. Made up in September and somehow managed to hang on through the fall.

The night of Seokjin’s twenty-eighth birthday, he couldn’t sleep. He had lain there, awake in the dark, listening to her breathing beside him, slow and even.

He’d reached out and smoothed her hair down, run a hand down her arm. She’d wiggled into his touch, her breathing taking a moment to even out again.

Feel something, he’d begged himself, suddenly on the verge of frustrated, furious tears. Feel something for her. Why couldn’t he? What was wrong with him? Was he broken, doomed? Was this all he’d get out of life - this push and pull of ocean tides, sometimes drowning and other times left to cook in the sun? Her need for his love like a black hole, pulling and pulling, taking and taking?

“I think we should take a break,” he’d told her in the morning, before his alarm even went off. “I think I need some time to figure things out.”

“Figure out what?” she’d asked, tears already rolling down her cheeks. “I thought we were fine, Seokjin. I thought this time we were fine.”

“Let’s talk after the holidays,” he’d suggested. “I’ll go spend some time with my dad and my siblings… let’s see how we feel.”

“See how we feel?” she’d echoed hollowly. “I know how I feel. You’re the giant question mark here.”

It had felt less like a slap and more like a fact. Seokjin couldn’t even fault her for it when it was so true.

So, at twenty-eight, he’d gone home for Christmas, alone, on a “break”.

When you showed up on New Year’s Eve, it felt like you were sent specifically to torture him. To test him.

And he had really, spectacularly flunked the test.

But seeing you again, for the first time in two years, had given him every right answer. You’d stood next to Minji, helping her slice lemons, and Seokjin had sat at the kitchen table nursing a beer and listening to you two rib each other. He’d felt it - peace, calm, his quiet place. That happiness that rose up in him every time you returned to his life, or he returned to yours. That overwhelming something that had always been there, hovering in the background, whenever he was around you. The desire to make you laugh, to find little ways to touch you, the need to feel your eyes on him now.

It was overwhelming. It was too much. It was too many feelings, all at once.

He’d never felt this for Chelsea. Not even a fraction of it. But he’d felt like this about you his whole life and had never had something to hold up next to it for comparison.

He loved you. That was the answer.

He’d tried to keep his distance anyway that night - for all the old reasons. Minji. Different lives in different cities. His uncertainty about how you felt.

And Chelsea, blowing up his phone in real time, asking him when he was flying home and if she could see him right away when he did.

He left her on read. He followed you out on the back deck. He’d called you beautiful and watched the last pane of glass keeping you from him shatter into pieces and fall to the ground, leaving his feet bloody and his heart singing as he finally, finally got to hold you in his arms the right way, as he’d finally, finally gotten to press his mouth to yours, taste you, feel you, have you.

Everything was beyond his wildest fantasies - and he’d imagined this plenty over the last seven years. Every bit of skin he got to slide his fingers over, every sigh and gasp you made against his mouth, the feel of your slick heat wrapped around his fingers, the feel of your spasming cunt milking every last drop from him. The look in your eyes as he set you down again, made sure your legs were steady - like he’d hung the moon for you.

Guilt and nausea rocked through him. Sure, they were on a break, but Chelsea was waiting for an answer from him, was at that exact moment trying to talk to him about their relationship. His phone burned a hole in his pocket as it buzzed incessantly against his still-quivering thigh. He should have waited - he should have handled his shit first. You deserved better.

You deserved better than every part of this.

Outside, hurried, in the freezing cold, against the side of his house? That was wrong. You should have had a first time together where he could take his time, worship every part of you, relax and communicate about what you like.

And in secret? Minji was still inside, a problem unsolved. If this was starting, if Seokjin was getting his chance with you, then he needed to deal with that problem first. Minji needed to be set straight. And, at the same time, she deserved to find out the right way, too.

And… what did you want? He should have talked to you, he should have told you he liked you before sleeping with you, he should have asked what you wanted this to be before either of you could get their feelings twisted.

He’d fucked this up. He’d done it all wrong. You deserved so much better than whatever childish bullshit this situation was. He needed to deal with Chelsea. He needed to tell Minji that his business was his business. He needed to talk to you about your feelings.

But one problem at a time. Starting right then.

“You probably shouldn’t come in right after me,” he’d told you, and hurried away, already fishing his phone from his pocket. Inside, he’d slipped into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He’d dialed Chelsea’s number before the latch even clicked.

“Jin?” she’d answered, sounding tearful already. He felt that squeeze of guilt again - she’d been home, crying, wanting to work it out with him. And he’d been buried in you. What kind of asshole does that? “Where are you?”

“My dad’s house, like I said I’d be,” he’d said, more coldly than he’d meant. He took a breath, pinched the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t her fault - none of it was. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t love her, it wasn’t her fault she wasn’t you, it wasn’t her fault he’d been too hasty and messed things up with you. “Listen. I know we said we’d talk when I came home but… a few days isn’t going to make the difference. I’m done, Chels. I’m sorry. I’m done for real, this time.”

Her silence stretched so long that Seokjin pulled the phone away from his face to check the screen, to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.

Finally, after a shuddering breath, she’d managed, “But why?”

Seokjin had pressed his cool knuckles to his burning forehead and closed his eyes. “Because. If I was going to love you, I’d know by now. I know how it should feel and it just… doesn’t. It just doesn’t.”

When he’d returned to the party, he’d scanned the rooms at a clip, eyes roving the crowd for your familiar form. He passed through the kitchen, the living room, even tried Minji’s room and the basement. You were nowhere to be found.

He typed over a dozen texts to you - where did you go, are you okay, come talk to me, did you leave, i have something i need to tell you. He deleted all of them. His thumb hovered over your picture in his contacts, as he tried to imagine what he’d say if you actually answered.

In the end, he fell asleep at the kitchen table, his phone in his hand. He woke up late, hungover, unprepared for his flight. He’d barely made it - Mr. Kim had sped the whole way to the airport, and they’d been calling his name over the loudspeaker when Seokjin jogged up to his gate.

He checked his phone desperately when the plane landed, hoping to see your name on his screen.

No luck.

Eventually, enough time passed that Seokjin felt… well, stupid even bringing it up. If you’d wanted to talk about it, you could have, right? It must have been just a hook-up to you, just a bit of fun at a party.

Seokjin lied to himself, told himself it didn’t matter, told himself he didn’t care. He spent the night of a full moon boxing up Chelsea’s shit and sent it in the mail.

–

It’s something Seokjin tries hard to hide about himself. He laughs loud, makes dumb jokes, wrestles Jungkook in public, tries to control the narrative. Tries to keep anyone from looking too closely.

He doesn’t want them to know he’s so afraid, that his fear is often the boss of him.

It’s fear that kept him from calling you after that night, fear that kept him from reaching out when he was twenty-one and you fell asleep in his bed, fear that kept him from telling you the truth when he was eighteen and graduating high school.

He’d sat at the end of his dad’s driveway in the dark, his party carrying on inside without him, wishing he could run - from his future, from his life stretching out ahead of him like a thin path through a sea of fog. He wanted to hit pause, wanted to stay here, wanted everything to stay just the same. He wanted to wake up in his father’s house, bicker with Minji and Jungkook over meals, hear the familiar sound of your voice calling hello from the front door.

Instead, he was about to walk away from all of that.

“Are you scared?” you’d asked him, appearing out of the dark like a damn apparition.

Seokjin had laughed to hide how very dead-on you were. “Me?” he asked, as if it were ridiculous. As if he weren’t always scared, but doing what he was supposed to do in spite of it. “Never.”

And you had smiled at him indulgently, like you knew better. “About what? What’s the biggest thing?”

Losing you.

He doesn’t even know what bullshit answer he gave you. Whatever it was, it wasn’t the truth.

Seokjin stands in the middle of the street watching your tail lights disappear, cast in red and shadows and regret.

All that… it doesn’t matter now…

It didn’t mean anything…

I never got to tell you to your face that you’re an asshole…

You were out of your head… to make a mistake like me…

I can’t do this again… I think it’ll kill me if I do…

He doesn’t even bother to tell his family he’s going somewhere. He gets into his car, the stereo blaring to life as it connects to his phone, then takes off across town.

Towards the swanky apartments.

–

Your phone rings, and rings, and rings, and rings.

You know you could just turn it off - a normal person would just turn it off.

You’re home again, on your couch with a blanket wrapped around you, lights down low, feeling sorry for yourself. Your phone screen lights up on the coffee table before you, then goes dark as the call goes to voicemail.

Then it lights up again, rattling as it vibrates. Goes dark. Lights up again.

You snap on the ninth call.

“Oh my God, what?” you demand. “I don’t want to talk to you!”

“Which one’s yours?” Jin asks, his voice small against your ear.

“What?”

“Which apartment’s yours?”

“Fuck off, Seokjin,” you tell him firmly. “I said I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I’ll start ringing doorbells,” he threatens. “I have a lot of time to spare.”

You fall silent, considering this. He would ring every doorbell in the whole damn complex if it helped him win.

“How’d you even know where to go?” you ask instead.

“You told me it was the one we used to trick-or-treat at,” he explains.

This deflates you a little bit. With a sigh, you tell him your apartment number.

“See you in a minute,” he tells you, and hangs up.

“But I don’t want to talk to you,” you whisper, defeated, at no one. It’s only moments later that he pounds on your door. Resigned, you shuffle to the door, the blanket still wrapped around you like armor.

“What do you want, Seokjin?” you ask flatly. “I told you, I can’t do this.”

“Define this,” he says, and there’s something gentle in the request.

“Make the same mistakes over and over,” you clarify. “Get nowhere. Gain nothing. Hurt.”

“You keep saying mistake,” he murmurs. He lifts his eyes to meet yours, and you take a step away when they do, knocked physically backwards by how broken he looks. “Can we talk?” he asks. “Can I come in?”

You purse your lips but step aside, letting him inside, letting the door close behind him. “We can talk,” you allow, mostly because he’d looked so devastated, and you feel guilty about it. “But you’d better keep your hands to yourself.”

You settle back down on the couch, and Jin perches at the edge of a wingback chair on the opposite side.

You look at each other silently for a minute. Then, you grumble, “You can get more comfortable than that.”

He scoots back less than an inch, looking at you expectantly.

“What?” You snap - again. You’re so on edge you think you might shatter. “You wanted to talk, so what are you looking at me for? Talk!”

He looks at his hands, then back at you. “I apologized without explaining,” he says slowly. “But I think you really need both.”

“You explained plenty,” you say, biting the words off before they can hurt you. “You were in a bad place -.”

“I didn’t mean that,” he cuts you off firmly. “What I meant is - I mean - that wasn’t the right way to say it. I didn’t mean… I wasn’t saying my head wasn’t in the right place. I wasn’t trying to imply that I was… fucked up, or upset, or anything like that. I made the choices I made with you that night because I wanted to, and I don’t regret them.”

You look at him, frozen. You feel too frozen to even breathe. “...Then?”

“It’s killing me,” he says, and has to stop and clear his throat as his voice breaks. He heaves a heavy breath and tries again. You wait him out, heart thudding, palms sweating. “It’s killing me to hear you keep calling it a mistake. Because it wasn’t, to me.”

All you can do is stare. You feel like you understand nothing.

“But,” you try. “What? You never - we didn’t talk, after? After - after - you just left, you disappeared and left me outside in the dark, alone.”

You didn’t mean the words to come out like an accusation, but they hit Seokjin like a slap. You watch him actually recoil, grimacing like he feels the sting across his cheek.

You watch as a cloud of shame settles over his features.

“I know I messed it up,” he admits. “I knew it that night. I should have talked to you first. But I… at the time, I felt like I had… loose ends that I needed to tie up first.”

Your eyes narrow, suspicious. “Loose ends like what?”

His eyes drop to the floor and he whispers, “I had to break up with my ex-girlfriend.”

“Kim Seokjin!” you exclaim in horror, a hand coming to cover your mouth. “Did you cheat on somebody with me?”

“No, no!” he says quickly, hands coming up defensively. “I promise, it wasn’t like that. My ex and I… we had agreed to take a break before I came home that Christmas. But I still felt like… I felt like I did something really wrong. And then I didn’t want to talk to you about it - about what’s next or anything - until I’d told her that I was out… really out.”

“I don’t understand,” you tell him. Your head is spinning, trying desperately to make sense of what he’s telling you.

Seokjin sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “I shouldn’t have just walked away from you,” he says, and there’s something almost pleading in his voice - just barely. “I thought I could go deal with her and then talk to you - but you were gone.”

“You could have called. You could have texted. You could have walked the twenty feet across the fucking street, Seokjin -.”

“I know!” he bursts out, leaning forward, his eyes on your face, desperate. “I know I should have! I was just - I wasn’t thinking straight, I was spiraling -.”

“Sure,” you interrupt flatly. “Toeing the line with infidelity will do that to a person -.”

“It wasn’t from that,” he snaps. He stands, walks to your balcony door, seems to stare down his own reflection. His ears are red - frustration, this time.

When he turns around, he’s calmer again. “It wasn’t because of that,” he repeats more quietly. “It was because you walked into my dad’s house that night and I was suddenly face-to-face with the fact that for the first time in my life, I had a name for what I feel for you.”

Silence crashes between you. You find yourself also standing, the blanket you were wrapped in falling half on the couch and half on the floor. You stare at him wildly, hands shaking at your sides. It takes everything in you to not just utter, “Huh?”

Instead, you whisper, “I think I need you to explain.”

He throws his hands up in exasperation, stalks closer to you, looms over you. “I love you,” he says plainly, and the room swings around you. “I think I always have - but I didn’t know until that night. And I didn’t want to tell you until I’d dealt with her.

“I know I messed everything up that night,” he says, eyebrows furrowed, “and I’m sorry.”

“Seokjin,” you manage, the word coming out like a gasp. “You what?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

You shake your head vehemently. “Before that.”

He steps closer, close enough to step on the blanket you’d dropped, close enough that you can feel his warmth, close enough that you could touch him if you were stupid enough to -

“I love you,” he murmurs, hovering ever closer. The words sound musical dripping from his mouth.

“How did you not know until then?” you whisper, looking up at him. “I knew when I was sixteen.”

He lets out a breath like a laugh. Your hand hesitates somewhere near his stomach. “I’m an idiot,” he explains. Then, voice deepening, he asks, “Do I still have to keep my hands to myself?”

“You’d better not,” you manage to say, and then you can’t say anything because he’s kissing you firmly, one hand on your face and the other pressing you closer by the small of your back.

It feels different to kiss him now than the first two times. The first time, two years ago, had been desperate, fast and frantic from the onset. Tonight, an hour ago, it had been laced with regret. This time feels somehow freeing. It feels like flying.

You loop your arms around his neck and try to lift yourself closer, pressing your body against his. He runs a hand down the back of your head, skims it down your spine, grips you by the waist and pulls you in tight with a deep but barely audible grunt.

You bring your hands to cup his face, pulling away from the heated kiss. “You don’t have a sort-of girlfriend I should know about this time, right?”

He huffs a laugh, nose bumping yours as he tries to get your mouth back. “Shut up,” he laughs, starting to walk you backwards towards your open bedroom door, his clever fingers finding the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head as you walk. You do the same, tugging his t-shirt free and tossing it on your bedroom floor.

He drinks in the sight of you, eyes burning paths along every newly bared inch of skin. His hands skim up your stomach, glide over your ribs, caress your shoulders, before finding the clasp of your bra. His eyes find yours, silently asking.

You give him a nod, your own hands tracing the lightly defined muscles along his stomach, making him shiver. He pinches the clasp, guides the straps down your goosebump covered arms, looks at you with nothing less than wonder. Then, gently, he covers your tits with both large hands, thumbs stroking the soft skin they find before moving to lightly roll each nipple once.

You close your eyes and keen a little, just a tiny noise, and let him explore you. You hadn’t taken off your top last time - it had been so quick, desperate.

But thinking about last time has you needy as you remember just how fucking good Jin’s cock had felt, how perfect the stretch was, how every drag of him made your eyes roll back. You kiss him again, feverish, as he continues to toy with you. A tiny part of you thrills at the forbidden aspect of this - this is Jin with his hand on your tit, Jin tugging you closer by your waistband, Jin pressing himself hot and hard against your leggings, Jin groaning into your mouth when you pop the button on his jeans and slip your hand into his boxers, stroking him to full length. You hadn’t touched him, last time – not like this. He’s hot and heavy and thick, velvet soft against your palm as you work him base to tip again and again, delighting in the low grunts and catches in his breath your fingers elicit.

You finally whine, throbbing and tingling and desperate for more, and he laughs against your neck and hooks his thumbs under your waistband and peels off your leggings, using the opportunity to back you up until you’re sitting on your bed with a bounce. He lets his own jeans drop to the floor and crawls over you; your hands come to his jaw as he kisses you ferociously, like he can’t think of anything else - not food, not water, not air - just your mouth.

Then he moves his mouth to your neck, sucking lightly and then soothing over the spots with gentle kisses. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he whispers. “It feels kind of surreal.”

“What about -,” you breathe.

“Last time doesn’t count,” he growls, and slides his hand over your mound, fingers skimming over your clothed clit and pressing your panties against your opening. You squirm against him, trying to increase the pressure, wanting him inside more than you want anything.

“Please,” you murmur.

“Please what?” he asks, pushing himself up to look down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Need more,” you gasp, still pushing back against his fingers. Even over your panties, they slide along your slickness. “Need to feel you.”

All his breath leaves him in a rush when you say this, and you lift up a little to help him slide your panties down your legs. You try to reach for him, fingers glancing along the fabric of his boxers, but your brain loses all sense of purpose as Seokjin sinks two fingers into you, pumping them casually a few times before crooking them and rubbing them firmly against your front wall.

The sound you make comes from deep within you, a low groan echoing around you as your eyes flutter closed.

He’s lying alongside you and you bury your face in his chest as he works you open. Sounds fall from your mouth, sharp and desperate, as the pressure in your lower belly tightens and tightens, as sparks flash behind your eyelids, as your toes curl and feet press into the mattress frantically. You can feel him pressing insistently against your leg as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, and it’s this fact that sends you spiraling, uttering his name through gritted teeth as every muscle goes impossibly tight.

He kisses you sweetly as you come down from it, slowly pulling his fingers from you and reaching around to grab a handful of your ass as the kiss naturally deepens, as he falls into it, head first.

You’re still half floating when he removes himself, and you hear the shuffle of fabric as he digs through his pants, and then a telltale thump as he tosses his wallet back into the clothing pile. He returns, kisses you again, tweaking a nipple and eliciting a whine from you.

“You good?” he breathes, lips barely centimeters from yours.

“‘M good,” you manage, gripping his forearms in preparation for the stretch, for the burn, for the deluge of sensation.

He pushes into you slowly, sheathing himself completely with a deep groan from within his chest.

“You feel so good,” he tells you, punctuating this with a quick nip on your jaw, before starting to roll his hips. You moan once, loud, head flopping back as his cock drags against your already-sensitive, still-fluttering walls.

Everything’s different this time. It feels like leisure, it feels like luxury - to get to reach up and kiss him, his lips firm and grounding as the slide of him sends you floating. Luxury, to get to run your hands along the bare skin of his arms, shoulders, and back. Luxury to dig your nails in just a little bit when his angle shifts, to hear his breathing hitch when you do. Luxury to lean back and meet his eyes, burning on yours, fire and love and happiness and passion swimming in them, beneath his furrowed brow, knit in concentration.

You feel so full of him, it’s like he’s touching everywhere, all of you all at once. He brushes a hand down the side of your face, so gently, then slides it under your ass to adjust the angle again.

“Fuck, oh my god,” you utter, shifting to take him even deeper. “What the fuck.”

“Good,” he whispers, slowing his pace and pushing into you purposefully, pausing each time he’s buried as far as he can be, feeling you clench around him before dragging out again, steady.

You’re temple to temple, his breath huffs and gasps near your ear. You cling to him tightly, white-knuckled as you try to take everything he gives you. You groan in mingled unison when he speeds up again, pushing himself up onto his knees and grabbing your waist as leverage, pulling you to meet every thrust.

“Oh -,” you gasp, surprised by the intensity, surprised by how quickly you can feel yourself unraveling a second time, “- god, Jin, fuck, holy shit -.”

“That’s right,” he coaxes, voice deep and honeyed, an entirely new sound to him. “Tell me. What is it, beautiful?”

“I - I can’t,” you gasp, eyes screwing shut, fingers gripping the blanket beneath you so hard that an absent part of your brain worries it’ll tear. “I’m gonna come again - Jin -.”

“Yes you can,” he soothes, and his thumb suddenly on your clit almost has you shooting off the bed, a scream caught in your throat. “Give me another one.”

The pressure is blinding, your muscles so tight that you know you’ll be sore, and though you can’t see anything but bursts of color through your tightly closed eyes, you can hear Seokjin swear fiercely before a low, wordless moan is tugged from him as he tries to hold on through your orgasm.

As you blink your way back to reality, Jin lowers his forehead to yours and doubles his pace, hips slapping your ass, uttering sounds that are increasingly desperate and broken - half-formed syllables of your name, something that might be please, ragged groans that cut off mid-way as gasps, only to begin again on his exhale. His arms cage you in and you feel yourself floating higher with him surrounding you, keeping everything else at bay.

His arms tighten around you when he comes, breathing out a loud, strangled, “ahhhhh -” as he empties himself inside you, his fingers twitching and pace faltering. He slows, his heart hammering inches from yours, then flops next to you, breathing heavily. He pats your thigh fondly, as if to say, good work, then scans the room. Finding what he was looking for - a small wastebasket under your desk - he staggers over to handle the condom before dropping heavily next to you again, eyes closed as he catches his breath.

“Seokjin,” you murmur, fingers finding his and lacing them together. “Don’t leave again. Okay? Don’t leave me, now.”

He rolls to face you, his hand coming to tug you closer, into his embrace.

“Never,” he promises, lips against your hair, his arms around your back, his heart racing yours towards a finish line neither of you can clearly see. “I swear. Never again.”

–

He does leave, a few hours later, apologizing over and over again.

“Dad’s doing pretty well during the day now,” he explains as he gets dressed gingerly. “But at night he has trouble - after sleeping he gets stiff and has trouble getting up without some help. Or, his ice bag melts and he can’t get downstairs to change it out. I texted him that I’d be back, but that was hours ago.”

“Go,” you tell him. “I understand.”

You do - of course you do. But it doesn’t stop you from being a little nervous when he slips out your front door, leaving you alone in the silence of your apartment. You’re too hyped up to sleep. You strip the bed, throwing the sheets in a hamper and putting on new ones, and go to shower. When you emerge, warm and finally sleepy, you get into bed and turn off your lamp, grabbing your phone to scroll until your eyes are heavy.

[12:14 AM] Jin 😎: home. dad’s fine. let’s talk tmrw?

You smile, typing an answer, illuminated by your phone screen.

[12:36 AM] You: glad to hear it. yeah, sounds good

You’re not sure how to leave it. Would a heart be too much? He’d said he loved you… but what is this now? Where do you go from here? What are the boundaries, what are the rules?

You fall asleep without answers.

In the morning, your alarm ringing feels like your own personal torture in hell. You’re sore from head to toe, like you knew you would be. You take a longer, hotter shower than normal, hoping the hot water will soothe your aching muscles. It helps, but only a little.

You’re absent-minded at work all morning, messing up multiple times and yawning so loudly that Dale actually asks you if you want him to go grab you some coffee from the break room.

“No,” you say sheepishly. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep well.”

Salvation comes in the form of a text message, about an hour before your lunch break.

[11:27 AM] Jin 😎: good morningggg [11:27 AM] You: i mean, barely [11:27 AM] You: it’s almost noon, sir [11:28 AM] Jin 😎: excuse you [11:28 AM] Jin 😎: some of us need our beauty sleep

You laugh out loud, Dale shooting you another look over his shoulder.

[11:28 AM] Jin 😎: come over tonight [11:29 AM] Jin 😎: i want to cook you dinner [11:29 AM] Jin 😎: my dad will be up but we can be normal… he’ll go to bed by 9 anyway [11:29 AM] You: my parents will see my car outside [11:30 AM] Jin 😎: i’ll come get you then. be there at 6?

You agree, and manage to actually do a few productive things with your afternoon, now that there’s a solid plan for later, now that you aren’t wondering if Seokjin will manage to vanish from your life for another two years.

You feel guilty for worrying about it, but you can’t help yourself. You’d meant what you’d told him last night, at your car, before he’d come to your place. Having him and losing him the first time had been earth-shattering. You couldn’t do it twice.

–

Jin picks you up right when he said he would, his car idling outside your building right at six o’clock. You slide into the passenger seat and he pulls away, music playing low through the car’s speaker system.

“How was your day?” he asks, glancing over at you.

“Couldn’t focus for shit,” you admit. “I think I pissed off my teammate.”

He chuckles. “Tomorrow’s a chance to do better.”

“Don’t distract me so much tomorrow, then.”

He grins at you, obviously not sorry in the slightest. “I distracted you? We barely talked.”

You purse your lips at him playfully. “I had a lot on my mind, and all of it’s your fault.” You say it teasingly, but he goes serious.

“Let’s talk tonight,” he suggests. “After my dad goes to bed.” He reaches out, smoothes a hand down your leg, leaves it resting on your knee.

“That’s probably a good idea,” you murmur, your eyes on his hand. You’re wondering how just that - just his hand resting on your knee - can cause goosebumps to rise up and down your arms.

When Seokjin leads you into the house, Mr. Kim is awake, watching television in the living room. He seems surprised to see you, but greets you warmly.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” he asks, more polite than what are you doing here, which is probably what he wants to ask.

“Minji’s busy tonight and I needed a hand with dinner and everything,” Seokjin lies easily, slipping his shoes off. “Y/N’s doing me a huge favor. Are you good, Dad? Do you need anything?”

“New ice pack,” you answer for him, eyeing the bag of mostly water that rests on Mr. Kim’s propped-up knee. “Can I help with that?”

You change out the ice pack and rejoin Seokjin in the kitchen, where he has something simmering on the stovetop and is busy chopping something else. You sit at the table, nursing the beer he offered you, watching him work. You chat casually with him - discussing what shows you’ve been watching, gossiping about Minji’s last boyfriend, getting updates on what Jungkook is up to out west. When the meal is ready you both eat in the living room with Mr. Kim, where he peppers you with questions about your job (it’s boring), how your parents are (same ol’, same ol’), if you’re keeping Minji in line (as if anyone could).

Seokjin turns out to be right - Mr. Kim requests to go upstairs to bed before nine. Seokjin helps him up the stairs, gets him settled, and returns downstairs to find you up to your elbows in suds at the kitchen sink.

“I was going to do that,” he scolds.

You shrug. “No reason I can’t help. Dinner was delicious, by the way. I forgot how well you cook.”

“How could you forget?” he protests, moving to the fridge to get himself a beer. “I take offense to that.”

“Don’t go so long without cooking for me next time, then,” you counter playfully, wiping your hands down with a dish towel and moving to sit across the table from him.

“Live closer to my city, then,” he gives it right back.

“No, no, no,” you shake your head firmly. “You moved far. You don’t get to put that on me.”

He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. You’re tempted to crawl onto his lap and you have to squash the urge down. You’re here to talk, not to kiss.

You settle into quiet as you consider this, consider all the fears and misgivings you’d been plagued with last night and all morning.

Seokjin reaches under the table with his leg and gently kicks at your knee. “Talk to me,” he says. “Tell me what’s happening up there.” He points with the top of his beer bottle in the general direction of your head.

It makes you smile, in spite of everything.

You consider, for a second, playing it off. But you and Seokjin have circled each other for damn near a decade. Isn’t it time for some honesty? When will you ever have an open invitation like this again?

“I’m scared this is just going to be like before,” you admit. “Even if you don’t - I mean… even if you do everything right, the truth is you still have to get on a plane in less than two weeks. I just don’t see an ending here that isn’t you leaving me behind again.”

Jin lets out a long breath, his eyes on the table. “I should have asked you this a long time ago,” he says slowly, raising his eyes to meet your gaze again. “But… what do you want?”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. You’ve never in your life, not even in your head, put words to it before. The want, the wish, it’s too much to ask for. It’s the thing you’ve spun around for your whole life, the thing whose gravitational pull keeps you in orbit, and it’s too much to look at directly.

He nudges you with his foot beneath the table again, gently. You look at your beer, condensation gathering around your fingers on the glass. He says your name softly.

“If you can’t tell me,” he points out, “then we’re really stalled out. And I don’t think that’s what either of us wants.”

It’s the encouragement you need.

“I want to be with you,” you whisper, still unable to look at him. “But I know that’s not…” Not possible. “I mean, you live so far, we both have jobs…”

He leans forward, reaching out and peeling your hand away from your glass bottle, holding your fingers tenderly. He says your name, waits until you finally look up at him.

“I’m willing to try and figure it out,” he says seriously, and you feel something inside your ribs crack and shift. Hope that you’d kept caged for your entire adult life springs to life, starts throwing itself bodily against its confines, the cracks beginning to splinter, an escape imminent.

He is? He wants that? What would that even look like? Would you be long distance? Would one of you have to move? What about Minji?

He says your name again, and you snap your eyes back up. “Let’s just…” he starts, then sighs. “I’m here for another ten days. Let’s make the most of them and see what we think closer to the end.”

It feels like delaying an execution, you think. But how do you say no? He’s offering you ten days of what you’ve always wanted - even if there’s an expiration date flashing before you, how can you possibly turn it down?

“What about Minji?” you ask, the one question you have to voice.

Across the table, his face goes tight. He withdraws his hand, picks absently at the sticker on his beer bottle. “Let’s keep her out of it until we decide what we want,” he says. Each we flies through you like lightning. “Does that seem fair? Let’s let this be about you and me, first.”

That’s fair - and it sounds good, honestly - but part of you is aware and anxious knowing this means you’ll be lying to Minji, having to hide things.

“Okay,” you say uneasily. “I guess you’re right.”

He looks over at you silently for a second. “C’mere,” he finally murmurs, scoots his chair back.

“We’ll break the chair,” you protest, even though you’re already moving, settling on his lap and reveling in the feeling of his strong arms around you, holding you closer.

“Then we break the chair,” he says easily, then kisses you deeply.

You loop your arms around his neck and turn, lifting a leg over his lap to straddle him. He holds you up by your back at first, but it isn’t long before he’s got one hand tangled in your hair and one on your ass, groaning quietly into your mouth as you grind down on the growing bulge you feel beneath you. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since you had him last, but you can’t hold it back. You want him again.

He settles both hands on your waist, pulling you down harder onto his clothed erection, helping you set a rhythm as you move against him, your mouth traveling down the column of his neck.

“What if your dad wakes up?” you manage to whisper, your hands slipping under his shirt and brushing along the muscles they find there.

“He can’t get downstairs without help,” Jin answers, biting off a groan as you lift his shirt up over his head, placing it on the chair next to you. He kisses you feverishly, leaning you back against the edge of the kitchen table, which scoots a little from the force of it.

“Want you,” you murmur, and Jin tightens his hand on your ass in reply, then wraps his other arm around your back again and stands. You squeal as he lifts you, and he shushes you through a quiet laugh.

“Where are we going?” you hiss, clinging tight to him with both arms and legs as he moves through the kitchen.

“My wallet’s in my room,” he tells you. “And as much as I’d love to bend you over the kitchen table someday, I didn’t want to stop touching you long enough to go deal with that.”

Your pussy throbs at the words and you let out a disbelieving laugh. “Jesus,” you say.

“Seokjin,” he corrects.

You smack his shoulder, laughing, as he enters his darkened bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you.

“We do have to be a little quiet,” he warns you. “He can’t come down here without my help, but if he wakes up, this house isn’t super sound-proof.”

“I remember,” you say dryly, remembering being scolded dozens of times for laughing and talking too loudly with Minji on sleepovers. “I can be quiet. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I wasn’t the one screaming last night,” he growls, close to your ear. You smack his shoulder a second time and he laughs, setting you down and turning to dig through his wallet, tossing the foil packet onto his nightstand before turning his attention back to you.

“Ready now?” you ask, arching an eyebrow sassily.

He laughs again, low and disbelieving, like you’re playing a dangerous game. Another thrill runs through you. You step forward, closing the distance between you, chest to chest with him. You want to run your hands over his stomach, over his pecs, over his shoulders and down his arms. Instead, you press your fingers into his chest and push. He lets you, falling backwards onto his bed and looking up at you, eyes suddenly hooded with desire.

You pull your shirt over your head and toss it on the floor. Your bra follows, and you stand there, looking him up and down as he runs a hand over the front of his jeans, watching you eagerly.

“Jeans off,” you tell him. “Actually, scratch that - all of it off.”

He hurries to comply, radiating just happy to be here energy, and by the time you’ve pulled off your own slacks and panties he’s back to laying on his back, legs hanging off the end of the bed, one hand wrapped invitingly around the base of his dick as he pumps it languidly, his eyes on your tits.

“Condom,” you say, and his brow furrows.

“Want to touch you first,” he complains, sitting up a little.

“Condom,” you repeat firmly.

He reaches for the foil. You wait patiently, thrilling at this game, excited to see what else will unfold.

He waits, too, one side of his mouth lifted as he watches you. You crawl over him, pressing your mouth to his determinedly. He leans up into the kiss, one hand coming up to roll a nipple between thumb and forefinger before switching to the other. You groan quietly, then reach behind you to line him up. It’ll be a challenge without any stretching first and you know it, but tonight you don’t care.

You sink down on him slowly, lifting up and dropping back down in intervals to slick him up. He grits his teeth to keep quiet, large hands spanning your hips as he helps guide you.

For a long time he lets you lead, lifting up and dropping down, leaning forward so he’ll hit that spot each time, rocking back and forth when your legs need a break. He moans so prettily below you, eyes squeezed shut, it eggs you on. You slow your pace, lifting up over him until you’ve almost come off completely, then working your hips back down, clenching over him as you drop again. As you repeat this motion you hear the change in his tone almost instantly - he goes whiney, high-pitched ah - ah - ah-s falling from him until he pulls a pillow around over his face to muffle the sound.

Finally, he snaps, unable to take your torture any longer. He grips the back of your neck with one hand, holds you tightly in place with his arm across your back with the other, flattens his feet against the floor and begins to piston into you, merciless.

You cry out once before hiding your face in the crook of his neck as he continues the onslaught, those whiney sounds settling back into deep grunts of effort.

Your orgasm slams out of nowhere; you were so overcome with the sensation of him fucking in and out of you so roughly that you didn’t even feel the build-up - all the feelings muddled together in a cacophony of sparks and shudders. You wail into his neck, trying hard to keep the sound as low as you can manage, as you feel yourself tighten around him like a vice grip. He cries out, too, his pumps going erratic, and then he stills beneath you, his hands still clutching your hips for dear life.

“Shit,” he breathes finally, giving you a light tap so you’ll lift up and let him handle the mess. You roll to his side and watch him affectionately as he ties up the condom and buries it beneath some papers in his wastebasket.

“Don’t let me forget to deal with that in the morning,” he requests, flopping next to you.

“I’ll try my best,” you tell him seriously, wrapping an arm around his middle and snuggling in. He rests his arm over your back.

“Was all of that… okay?” you ask, just to be sure.

He shakes his head, lips pursing. “Hated it,” he teases.

You growl in frustration, and he laughs again, reaching to smooth down your hair. “Will you stay tonight?”

You consider this. “I don’t think I can,” you say sadly. “I have work in the morning, I’d have to get up and go back there at like four in order to shower and everything.”

He sighs heavily. “That means I have to get up and drive you back.”

“Poor baby,” you deadpan.

He nods, agreeing with this. “Do you need to go back now?” he asks, lifting his phone to eye the time. “Can I take you in a little bit?”

“Yeah,” you agree, snuggling in tighter to his side. “We can wait a little. I don’t want to move. Not yet.”

Your workday is interrupted the next morning by a flower delivery. The secretary at your office walks the vase back to your cubicle, a look between confusion and irritation on her face.

“Thanks,” you tell her hollowly, eyeing the bouquet carefully. There’s a tiny card amongst the greenery, but instead of a signature there’s simply a smiley face. The flowers are pretty - you turn the vase carefully so you can look from all sides. Not roses, but a variety of types and colors. You smile, remembering ranting to Minji in his basement as a teenager that roses were boring and overdone.

Behind you, Dale sneezes violently once, twice, three times.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I’ll take them home with me tonight.”

You text Seokjin a picture of the flowers on your desk.

[10:39 AM] You: what are you doing??? [10:39 AM] Jin 😎: trying to make up for past seokjin [10:39 AM] Jin 😎: that guy was an idiot [10:42 AM] Jin 😎: …is it working?

You smile despite yourself.

[10:42 AM] You: it’s certainly not hurting anything [10:43 AM] You: they’re really pretty [10:43 AM] You: thank you [10:44 AM] You: i’m having dinner with my parents tonight… i’ll text you when we’re done and see what you’re up to? [10:45 AM] Jin 😎: i know what i’ll be up to [10:45 AM] Jin 😎: waiting for my girl

–

You slip across the street after telling your parents goodnight. Seokjin lets you in the front door. Mr. Kim is still up, his leg on a stack of pillows on the couch. He greets you warmly and you sit and talk with them both. It isn’t long before you hear the familiar beep from outside - Minji’s car.

You look at Seokjin in alarm. You knew you’d have to play pretend in front of her eventually… you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

“Hey!” Minji greets, coming through the front door in a tornado of sounds and bags and shoes. “What are you doing here?”

“I was at my parents’,” you say, hoping it sounds natural. “I just thought I’d come say hello for a minute.”

She narrows her eyes at you, that Minji look. Then she drops her bag on the floor and saunters towards the kitchen.

“Is there food?” she asks.

“I cooked,” Jin tells her. You shoot him a desperate save me look and follow her into the kitchen.

She busies herself in the fridge and you sit, trying to figure out how to get out there without raising her suspicions even further.

“So,” she says breezily, without even turning to look at you. “You got laid. Want to spill?”

“Minji!” you cry, horrified.

“What?” she laughs. “It must’ve been good, too. You’ve got that glow.”

Out in the living room, you hear Seokjin choke, erupting into a fit of coughing. You try to look like you don’t even notice.

“Minji,” you complain. “Don’t be gross!”

She grins at you. “Please. I’m jealous. And it’s been a long time for you. So, spill! Who’s the guy?”

Seokjin does save you, then, coming into the kitchen and swatting at Minji’s elbow. “If you’re going to be crass, could you lower your voice? Dad doesn’t need to hear all that.”

She sticks her tongue out at him, then goes back to making her plates. “I’m right though,” she grumbles, definitely at a lower volume. “Look at her. The glow doesn’t lie.”

–

The next night you spend the golden evening hours wrapped up with Jin on your couch.

“Who’s making dinner for your dad?” you ask, rolling lazily on your back and looking up at him.

“I asked Minji to handle dinner tonight,” he tells you. “I told her I was grabbing dinner with some friends.”

“I don’t love the lying,” you admit, “but this is really nice.” You sigh happily and he pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

“It is nice,” he echoes, a little sadly.

You think you must both be thinking about how he’s going home in eight more days.

“Jin?”

“Hm?”

“How come you never told me?”

He shifts so he can look down at you. “What?”

“If you knew you…” Loved me. “...had feelings for me… why didn’t you say anything?”

He makes a face you can’t read; it’s cousins with a grimace but not quite the same. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he counters.

“I can actually answer that,” you tease, poking him in the ribs. He squirms, whining. “It was because I had zero inkling that you’d be interested. The first time I ever thought you could be was… that night… and then I got the idea that you weren’t into it after all.”

You look at him expectantly, as if saying, okay, your turn.

His ears are red. “You’re gonna make me say it, huh?” he asks flatly, avoiding your gaze.

“I am curious,” you murmur, running a hand up his arm.

He holds you tighter, rolling on his side to get his arms all the way around you. With you tucked safely in his embrace, he doesn’t have to look at you when he says, “I guess I was scared. The whole time.”

“Of what?” you ask, your voice muffled by his shirt.

You can feel him shrug. “Of fucking it up. Of pissing off Minji to the point it hurt your friendship. Of it not being as good as I built it up in my head. Of not being… enough to make you happy.”

“Hey,” you say sharply. “That could never be true.” You wiggle a little, sitting up a bit so you can look at him again. “Don’t put so much pressure on it,” you tell him gently. “It doesn’t need to be perfect or nothing, you know? We can just… be.”

He rests his head on yours, fingers tracing patterns on your upper arms. “I like the sound of that,” he admits.

On the coffee table, your phone rings - several long buzzes, the sound even louder in the quiet room. Jin reaches over your shoulder and picks it up, handing it to you.

“It’s my sister,” he tells you.

“Do you want to come have dinner at my dad’s?” Minji asks when you answer. “Jin went out with some friends so I’m here by myself and I am bored.”

“Oh, sorry Minji… I can’t tonight. I’m actually still at the office,” you lie, and Seokjin’s eyebrows shoot up in amusement.

She groans. “Fine, leave me here to suffer,” she laments.

“You’re all so dramatic,” you tell her. “Jungkook is the only normal one.” Seokjin kicks your shin gently, pretending to scowl in offense.

“Speaking of Jungkook,” Minji says, clearly perking up, “what about tomorrow night? My dad invited over his golf buddy’s whole family, and he wants all of us there to make him look good. Even Jungkook is coming.”

“I fail to see how I fit into this equation,” you tell her flatly.

She makes a loud noise of frustration, and you pull the phone away from your ear briefly. Seokjin’s eyebrows inch even higher. “It’s just gonna suck,” she whines. “I have to dress up and act like a real adult, and they’re gonna ask me questions about work and if I’m dating and I would just really appreciate it if you were there to make me feel less pathetic.”

“Because I, too, am a disgrace to adulthood?” you clarify.

She cackles. “Because we can roll our eyes at each other and talk shit about them later? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Not as nice as staying in my own home in my sweatpants,” you say, even though you already know you’ll be going. It’s a chance to spend the night with Jin, one week before he flies home again. “Your dad won’t care that he has an extra child all of a sudden?”

“Nah,” she says easily, happy that you’ve consented. “He won’t care at all. Right, Dad?”

When you hang up, Seokjin is looking at you expectantly, waiting for the explanation.

“I guess I’m attending your dad’s fancy dinner party tomorrow,” you tell him. Then, frowning, you ask, “How’s he hosting that when he can barely get around?”

Jin rolls his eyes. “You get three guesses who’s doing all the cooking, and the first two don’t count.”

You giggle. “Well,” you say happily, “now I get to see you tomorrow night, too!”

–

You are a fool. You know it the second Mr. Kim’s guests come through the front door. The Parks seem nice enough - a married couple near Mr. Kim’s age, both greying and soft-spoken. The problem is the Trojan Horse they bring with them - their daughter, Sumin. She’s around your age, pretty, and you know instantly that this dinner is a set-up.

The whole evening is unbearable - because it goes well. Seokjin, clueless, is so charming that you think even Mr. Park falls in love with him before dessert.

Around the dinner table, Mr. Kim introduces each of his children. You notice, even if no one else does, that he gives more details about Jin’s university achievements and current career than he does for Minji or Jungkook. Quite a sales pitch, actually.

You notice, even if no one else does, how Mr. and Mrs. Park cling to every word, their smiles growing when they hear that Seokjin is smart, has a respectable and stable job with solid income. You notice, even if no one else does, how Sumin toys nervously with the bangles on her wrist, looking sideways at Seokjin and blushing prettily.

Your stomach turns.

“And my daughter’s best friend,” Mr. Kim introduces you, even though no one cares, certainly not the Parks, “who grew up in this house with them. I consider her a second daughter.”

The Parks don’t let Sumin speak for herself, either - they handle the sales pitch the same way Mr. Kim had for Seokjin. Fact for fact - university background, current job, philanthropic efforts, extracurriculars. You’re tempted to text Minji, “Well, I’d HIRE her if nothing else.”

You largely tune the rest of the conversation out. You’re too busy watching how Seokjin doesn’t even look at her, keeps his eyes on his plate when they’re not on you. You exist on the edge, peripherally involved at best.

That is, until you hear Mr. Park laugh, “And what are the odds that you two would end up in the same city? Is it really so far? Yah, we ask her to come home more often and you’d think we were asking her to get a medical procedure done!”

“The flights are a bit of a hassle,” Sumin says with an apologetic smile.

“She’s right,” Jin adds, unable to help himself; he had a personal vendetta against the airline that had brought him home this time. “And there are no train lines that make sense. It is a hassle.”

“It’ll be nice for Sumin to have another good friend in the city,” Mrs. Park says with a gracious smile, nodding to Seokjin. “Many of her university friends ended up abroad for work.”

No one notices that Minji and Jungkook are taking turns making faces across the table from each other. No one notices that you’ve gone silent as the grave.

Except Seokjin, who spends all of dinner shooting you looks that you can’t decipher.

You sigh in blessed relief when they finish the round of cocktails and say their goodbyes, smiles bright, Sumin’s eyes lingering on Seokjin as she follows her parents towards the front door. You’re unsettled as you station yourself at the kitchen sink, eager for a task to keep you busy. It’s clear to you that the Parks - all three - were sold. How easy would it be for Jin to accept this path? It feels like watching someone step into the place in his life that you’d wanted for as long as you can remember, and fit perfectly. More perfectly than you, who seem to barely fit at all. It feels like watching someone else get everything you ever wanted, without even having to work for it.

Seokjin passes behind where you’re standing and goes through the kitchen door, out to the wooden porch. A minute later, Mr. Kim limps through the room, following after him. It’s not long before you can hear their voices floating through the open kitchen window.

You shouldn’t listen. Behind you, further in the house, you can hear Minji and Jungkook bickering. You grab a dish towel and start wiping down some of the plates you’ve already cleaned.

“Explain to me what the problem was,” Mr. Kim says sternly. You feel your stomach flip again.

“There wasn’t a problem,” Seokjin answers flatly.

“You were rude,” Mr. Kim admonishes.

“I wasn’t rude,” Jin counters calmly. “I’m just not interested.”

There’s a thump, like Mr. Kim has slapped the porch railing in frustration. “And why not? She’s beautiful, educated, she’s got a good personality, comes from a good family. How could you not be interested? You’re thirty, for the love of God -.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Jin says, and it makes your chest clench how icy he sounds, “but like I said… I’m not interested.”

The silence goes on so long that you think maybe they moved where you can’t hear them anymore. Then, Mr. Kim’s voice floats through the window, quieter than before.

“Is it because of her?”

“Dad -.”

“For the love of God, Seokjin, how many more years do you plan to lose?” Mr. Kim demands, his voice loud again. “When will you figure out that you’re wasting your time?”

You drop the dish towel, manage to cling to the plate you’re holding. You feel nauseated. Is that what this is? A waste of his time? Are you fools for even pretending you could try?

Minji comes up behind you, silent as a jungle cat. “What are they fighting about?” she whispers.

You push the plate into her hands blindly. “I have to go,” you say, brushing past her and heading through the house, out the front door, and across the yard.

You’re halfway to your parents’ house when you hear Seokjin yell your name behind you.

“Hey!” he shouts when you don’t stop. You keep walking, but you can hear his footsteps jog to catch you. He catches your arm, gives it a tug to whirl you around.

“What?” you demand.

“Why are you upset?” he asks, eyes scanning your face, as if he’ll find answers. “What’s wrong?”

You laugh bitterly. “Your dad is right,” you say flatly. “You’re wasting your time. I’ve wasted your time for almost ten fucking years. What are we doing? Where is this going? In six days you’re getting on a plane again and we’ll be right where we were before. You’ve got a great option right in front of you - the least selfish choice for me here is to let you take it. The least selfish thing for me to do is to let you go, let you move on.”

You’re not sure when in this little speech you started crying; you aren’t even aware that it’s happening until Seokjin’s thumbs brush your cheeks and then swipe once more at your waterline, flicking away a fresh wave of tears.

He looks so confused that you almost feel sorry for him. “What?” he asks. “Y/N, I’m obviously not interested in Sumin.”

“Why not?” you shoot back, anger rising - not at him, you don’t think. “Why not be interested in her? She’s perfect - gorgeous, more educated than me, from a richer family. God, she even lives in your city!” You sniff roughly, steeling yourself, feeling something inside you harden like cooling lava into rock. “You should call her,” you tell him firmly. “She’s the better option for you.”

“Why are you talking like this is ending?” he asks, his voice a whisper. “We’re not ending, we’re just starting.”

“I don’t know,” you cry, feeling stupid and a little like you're overreacting, but now that you’ve started you can’t stop. “Why are you picking the harder option? Why choose this? What happy ending can we possibly have?”

“Pick,” he repeats, putting a bit of a laugh into the word. “Who picked? I fell in love with you. There’s no choice about it. You’re the one I want. You’re the one I love. That’s all there is to it.”

This makes you cry harder, and he pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. You bury your face in his shirt, let yourself be selfish for just one more minute.

It’s there, under the streetlight, hiding in Jin’s solid embrace, that Minji finds you.

She steps into the circle of orange glow that the streetlight creates, appearing out of the darkness without a sound. You and Jin both freeze, caught, no time to leap apart. When she speaks, you expect the sound to echo loudly in the quiet. Instead, her voice comes out hushed and shaking as she asks, “What… is going on here?”

<- Prev || Next ->

oop!!!!!!!!!! >:) we have officially reached the point of the outline that read "Minji becomes the Problem" hehehe

thank you so so so much for reading!!!! Part 4: Perilune will post next Friday, June 23rd.

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pedroshotwifey · 5 months

Text

Christmas Countdown Day 1 - Mistletoe

This Christmas

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader

Word Count: 1k

Tags/Warnings: Pretty tame one tbh, mentions of sex, lots of fluff, no use of Y/N, Papi kink? like once?, Javi being a good husband, stuff I'm forgetting, not beta'd so pls lmk if u see any mistakes

Summary: You wake to find Javi trying--and miserably failing--to spread some holiday spirit.

A/N: WOO!! I did it y'all; day 1!! First thing I've posted without smut. Lets see if I can keep it up.. Tomorrow's prompt is with Din Djarin and there will be smut in that one, so if this isn't your thing, please just stay tuned. Biggest Fattest thank you to the lovely @mandoalorian for the prompts and for allowing me to participate <3

***

You wake up with a jolt as a loud crash sounds from your living room. Your heart is racing as you quickly pat the bed beside you to wake your husband up to investigate. You gasp when your palm collides with the mattress where Javi should be laying.

You panic for another moment at the thought of being alone in the room with something outside, but as you wake up a bit, your brain kindly reminds you that you’re being stupid.

If Javi’s not in bed, that only means that he must be somewhere else within the house—which means that he is likely the one making all that noise.

You sigh a breath of relief as your panic subsides, but furrow your brows as anger quickly replaces it. What in God’s name is he doing out there at—you glance at the clock—2:14 in the morning?

Huffing a breath in annoyance, you throw back the covers and a wave of cool air engulfs your body, only serving to make you more agitated. Your feet hit the cold hardwood floor and carry you out to the living room.

You’re confused at first as you stand there in the midst of apparent chaos, hands on your hips which are covered by a baggy T-shirt. Glancing around, it looks like someone dumped a box of miscellaneous Christmas decor on every available surface of the room.

“Javi?” You call for your husband and receive a pained groan coming from the hallway in response.

You immediately gravitate towards the sound, walking into the hallway only to find your husband laying flat on his back next to an overturned step-ladder.

“Javier Peña!” You exclaim as you take in the scene with equal amounts of concern and confusion. He winces like a child in trouble as you say his name and it almost makes you laugh.

You make eye contact with him from where you stand near his head, and he shoots you a smile that makes you giggle anyway.

“Surprise,” he says quietly but with a hint of excitement.

You stare at him with an amused but sympathetic smile as he attempts to get up but fails. He and you both know that he should most definitely not be putting himself into situations where he could end up on his aching back.

Unless, of course, its for *ahem* bedroom activities, in which case he certainly doesn’t seem to mind.

You sigh his name in mock disappointment as you slide down to the floor and lay on your back next to him. You both turn your heads to look at each other and then proceed to giggle like a couple of mischievous teenagers in the dimly lit hall.

“What were you trying to do, anyway?” you ask once you can contain yourself. He looks at you again and his face reddens slightly. You cock an eyebrow and squeeze his hand which you took in your own, prompting him to spit it out.

“I was trying to decorate,” he says almost reluctantly, and you giggle at him again.

“Well, I figured that much, honey,” you say and he blushes harder. You both know the sentiment behind the gesture. This is your first Christmas as a married couple, and he knows that you usually don’t decorate for yourself.

He wanted to do something good for you, and after you get him off his ass, you’re going to show him exactly how much you appreciate his effort.

“I was trying to put up the mistletoe,” he says as he raises his other hand to reveal said object. “I wanted to greet you with a kiss in the morning.”

You smile at him and glance at the small bulk of holly and berries that he has suspended in the air for you to see.

“Well,” you start, “It is technically morning, and you are holding a mistletoe.”

You lean toward him and he pulls the leafy decoration closer to the two of your heads. Tucking yourself into his side, you place your elbow beneath you and he slides his now-free hand up to cup your cheek as your lips meet.

You sigh into him, and him into you as you melt into each other. His lips feel soft and plush against yours as you swipe your tongue against him. You feel his hand move up until it’s grasping a fistfull of your hair and pulling you closer to him, as if your body could literally meld into his.

Your brain is foggy as you move to place your hips over his and grind down, enhancing the blissful feeling as you grind your core over the rapidly rising tent in his sweatpants. Javi whines into the kiss and his hips jolt up, involuntarily trying to get more friction.

Suddenly, he groans in a way that sounds very obviously painful, making you accidentally bite his lip. You quickly slide off of him.

“Shit, I’m sorry, baby,” you say, genuinely worried and internally chastising yourself for forgetting. “Are you okay?”

Javi groans again, this time from the loss of your body against his.

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m okay,” he tells you hurriedly. “C’mon, get back up here, Papi’s not done yet.” He grabs for you and winces again, immediately disproving any chance that he might not be in pain.

You laugh and move away so he can’t lay even a finger on you.

“No, I don’t think so, Papi,” you mock his self-appointed name. “C’mon, you need to get up, old man; it’s not good for your back,” you finish with a more serious note.

He looks at you and sighs deeply because he knows you’re right.

“Fine, fine,” he complies. “But we’re going straight to bed.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you laugh again before wrapping your arms around him to help him up. You’ll just have to decorate later. Not that you mind.

For once, such a thing sounds enjoyable. Just the thought of putting Christmas music on and dancing with Javi as you find spots for all the decor seems like a dream. Maybe this Christmas won’t be so bad.

***

Link to prompts

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier pena x you #christmas countdown #fluff #javier pena fluff #fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos

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levmada · 1 year

Text

summary: You have an interesting gift in mind for Levi’s birthday—a game of sorts.

And that gift? You.

wc: 6.3k

content/warnings: switch(but mostly sub)!Levi, copious mommy kink, impact play (f!receiving), edging, toys (cock cage; cock ring; vibrator), begging, degradation+praise, modern!au, LEVI BIRTHDAY FIC, face-fucking, multiple orgasms, humping, rough sex, one use of ‘babyboy’, dry orgasm, brief subspace (m!receiving), panties as a gag, lingerie, dirty talk

a/n: this is one of the hottest fics i’ve written i think :) HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABYBOY LOML LIGHT OF MY DAYS.

Levi straddles your hips. With a whispered flutter, his meticulously pressed work shirt drops on the bed behind him.

As he eagerly crawls on top of you, you fold your hands behind your head, smiling girlishly. There's nothing special about Levi getting home from work today, except that his birthday is a week from now.

But that's exactly what's special about it.

"What're you smiling about?" he remarks.

You just keep smiling. Further, his brow puckers as you make no move to touch him—not even to lean up. When he goes down to kiss you, you return it only chastely.

Eyeing you, he kisses again and again, but you refuse to let him deepen it. That's not like you. He leans back, and palms through your panties. You're wet, but all he gets is you nibbling your lip.

He deadpans. "What do you think you're doing?"

That's the question you were waiting for—have been waiting for since this morning when you came up with this.

You lean up, and reverently kiss his forehead, then his lips. You can barely contain your excitement. "I have an idea for a birthday gift. One you'll like," you whisper.

A stranger on the street would care more about his birthday than Levi himself, and that's how you hooked him in. A mistake. He was a fool, in earnest, to agreeing to the game you made up. Between now and his birthday, you'd tease and edge him so that when the day came, he'd receive an incredible gift: you.

The condition? Obviously he was to be deprived of you. He'd soon realize he couldn't just not handle that, but after he agreed, you took out the cage. Flawless stainless steel traps his cock. It squeezes the bottom of his balls, so there's not a chance in hell he can get some relief at any time, let alone come. It's deceptively ornate, square cells just enough to let him receive the bare minimum of stimulation. A long silver line arcs down from his balls, and ends at an especially mocking opening at the tip.

He hates this fucking thing.

As soon as you looked up from between his legs, smiling in that devious way that never fails to strike the fear of god in him—frustration was already alive and rising in him. What he thought at first to be an interesting game that would make him appreciate his birthday more would be much more challenging than he thought.

No attention below the belt for the next week. No squeezes or stroking. You might as well be teenage lovebirds taking it steady.

Another reason he agreed was that he had confidence in his own self-discipline. He prided himself on it. A week without sex was going to be no big challenge—not even that painful.

The first night wasn't so bad. The next morning (six damn days to go), he found himself squirming and huffing from the innocent pressure of your backside pressed back against his pelvis. You were still asleep for fucks sakes.

His lips would gravitate towards your neck, his hands to your waist, or your soft tits that threatened to spill over your bra as you dressed for errands in the afternoon.

Little by little, he finds his self-control wilting.

So as it turns out, the man with the endless patience doesn't last three days before there's an incident. At every turn, you gently and coyly wiggled away from his advances with an encouraging reminder that he "only" had five more days to go.

That evening, Levi had been oddly avoidant after he got home from work—silent treatment and all. All you heard was a thanks for dinner before he padded upstairs, seemingly intent on making you cave.

But you watched him go with a placid smile, because he was the one getting edged, not you. Even though it wasn't nearly the same... you've kept yourself satisfied enough with a vibrator so far.

But you didn't like his attitude.

Not that you planned to be cruel. This was a gift after all—or it culminated in one. If he was so grouchy already... you ought to take pity on him.

In the depths of your bedroom, you took an extra minute in the bathroom to retrieve what you needed.

The flick of the lightswitch turning off, the whine of the bathroom door opening. You let it idle, and then crawled into bed, faced with Levi's back. He was practically hanging off the opposite side for maximum attitude.

"You're that mad at me?" you ask, faking offense. "No cuddles?"

As you thought, he's awake. His voice rings out solid and clear. "Too horny to let you have your way with me."

You gape at the phrasing, laughing soundlessly, and begin to squirm over. Your right hand is occupied, making it difficult. "Don't be like that. Say the word, and I'll free you... Tell me your gift isn't fun."

He peers at you over his shoulder with a petulant expression. He's pouting. "It's torture."

"For nooww..."

He turns back with a huff.

"I mean it. Maybe I've left you too high and dry," you acquiesce with a voice of silk, and drape yourself up against his back, like two spoons in a drawer. "You need a little attention, huh?"

Levi slowly relaxes in your arms as you speak. He feels himself caving in without hesitation. The idea of a touch to melt off some of the ache raging below. His dick has been interested since you creeped up behind him.

"You're still not allowed to come."

His stomach sinks, but the feeling the rubber head of something—the good vibrator—pressed against the front of his fluffy flannel pants makes that dread evaporate. You have him tensing all over again, mashing his cheek in the pillow, already horny. Horny enough to hump this thing whether you turn it on or not.

You stroke the length of his crotch with the dull head, but it isn't on. "Would this help?"

He pins his lip between his teeth and sinks back into your arms. He feels feverish all over. Will this get him anywhere? No. Would it help? "Yes," he whispers hotly. "Do it."

To his utter surprise, you cycle up to the higher vibrations right away. Gasping, he clings onto the pillow, tugging it to his face for some damn thing to hold onto while the thick vibrations coat his cock. It strains in the cramped cage, pulling a whine out of him. He grinds into it fitfully as you murmur and coo in his ear.

"Mm." His hips kick into the vibrations without his consent, making him swell more, making the ache seethe.

It's fucking evil.

You stroke the toy up and down his shaft under thick layers of fabric, probing his swollen, full balls, even. Little teasing jolts shoot up his cock.

"Is that better, baby?"

His eyes squeeze shut. He's willing to do or say anything to make you break after the silent treatment got him this far. A weak moan is punched from him as he says, "More, c'mon, just a little... lemme come, mommy... Fucking one time."

That name. That will work on you. It always works on you.

"That's cheating, sweetie."

That's not even an answer. Because he already knows what it's going to be.

Fuming, he whines miserably and pushes back into your arms as the vibrations swallow up his tip and circle rapidly—again, cut off through the fabric. Doesn't help that it was already wet, so now there's a bigger mess. Dammit, he'll need a shower.

"Fuck you."

"You know who whines and complains when they don't get their gifts before Christmas?" you ask lightly. "Dirty brats."

Fuck it. When his hand shoots down and tries to bury the head of the toy deeper between his thighs, you promptly wrench it away from his grasp and switch it off.

"Fucking. Dammit," he grunts. He squirms in vain, squeezing his thighs together has his heartbeat pounds in his fucking dick. That does nothing of course. The ache is fucking unbearable, but nothing's going to make it better until he gets this thing off, which is still days away.

He's weak. He swears. He has never once in his life looked forward to his birthday... until now.

You whisper sweet nothings as you peck his jaw and the shell of his ear until he gathers his breaths, and once again relaxes in your arms. This time in defeat.

He's not actually resenting you, he doesn't doubt that this will be a great gift or whatever mushy terms you put it in—and in fact, it is making him look forward to his birthday—but his cock doesn't care. He needs you now.

The hours creep into sunsets creep into one day, then two, closer to Christmas and his birthday. He abides by your shared routine as normal as normally as he possibly can when, majority of the time, he's burning and delirious. He needs to come whenever you so much as hug him when he gets home from work. He needs to come when you embrace him from behind. When you shower, he pictures himself invading the bathroom and pushing you to your knees.

He never realized before, but they're too short, the goodbye and hello kisses in general. Kisses at this point are all he has.

The 24th arrives, somehow, and somehow you roped him into watching a Christmas movie together—something from your childhood you both end up watching every year—cuddled up close on the sofa. He can barely focus, but he can't say no to the attention, even the bare minimum. A movie distracts him a little from his dizzying desire.

But then, you decide to play with him. For the past week, you've danced around teasing him—swinging your hips when you so much as you cross the kitchen to grab something he needs, sleeping in those skimpy pajama shorts despite it being the middle of winter... but Christmas Eve is different.

Behind him, you've been stroking his chest for the past fifteen minutes, occasionally catching on his hardened nipples. He fucking loves your hand. And your lips, pressing to his neck in random places when he doesn't know it's coming. He's as hard as a rock.

You do it again, and flick his nipple at the same time. He moans under his breath, craning his neck to give you a little more space, begging wordlessly. The thick outline made stiffer by the wretched cage is pitiful to the point of shame.

You peer over his shoulder.

"You're so hard..."

"Please..." he whispers, stretching the word out as you stroke the soft slopes of his chest. His cheeks feel hot. He rocks his hips rock fitfully, up into nothing. "Fucking loosen it or something."

You cradle his hot cheek lovingly, a touch he easily leans into, pinning your palm to the sofa underneath so you can't go away. "Don't want me to touch?"

"No! It's gonna be fuckin' worse, 'cause you're not gonna let me."

He presses his thighs together without thinking. He feels lost in you, an endless burning pool. Relief is nowhere to be found. If you don't touch him, though, he's pretty sure his dick will fall off.

You play with the idea of giving in now. There are about a dozen other things planned for his birthday—with and without friends—but you know now what's going to take priority. There's not a chance he's going to demand his gift any later than the moment he wakes up.

Hm.

"Stay here, m'kay?"

He's cautiously skeptical. "For what?"

"It's your birthday-eve, right?" You kiss him. "How about an early gift?"

Levi has a feeling this "gift" will be more for you than him. You're fucking with him. This is a joke.

He nods.

You wiggle out from behind him, and stand. Levi shamelessly stares at your ass as your form retreats.

Then you call over your shoulder, "Pants off, by the way."

He gets chills down his spine, squeezing his eyes shut against the heat that's replaced the blood in his veins. Hell. If you promised to let him come under the condition to lick your shoe and hump on it, he would. He would.

He shoves, then kicks down both his stretchy bottoms and briefs at the same time, causing him to sigh in both relief and frustration.

He can't help but glance at the debauched state he's in. It looks like the cage is barely containing his swollen cock, bulging against the steel, colored like an over-ripe strawberry. A pathetic amount of cum has welled up in the iron at the tip. He lifts his hips, and moans weakly.

He tilts his head back. Just staring kills him. He's so fucking trapped, he needs it, but at the same time, the knowledge that he's playing an active part in his gift—besides the fact that this gift will end in him finally coming his brains out—burns desire and satisfaction into him like a brand. You're his gift.

Ages later. He can't quit from nibbling on his lip with the return of the whispered sound of your socks against hardwood. A tiny thrill shoots through his stomach, which grows into a bird's feather brushing his insides as he spots the opaque ring fit for his cock. In stainless steel (just like the cage), it's intimidating. He inches his legs wider.

You smile knowingly, sweetly, even, and crawl on top of him, evenly straddling his wide thighs. your eyes rake the sight of his cock trapped in the tight steel.

You're staring. Involuntarily, he drapes his arm over his face, and waits.

"I'll take this off..." you trace one of the silver cells. "...And replace it with the ring instead. You've really turned into a little slut this week. You've been so pitiful, so miserable, huh."

"…Uh-huh."

"Are you a slut, Levi?"

He sinks his teeth into his arm. "Mhm. Your. Slut," he whispers.

"That's right."

He moans as your thumb flirts with the locking mechanism, and curls his toes. Tears involuntarily rise and sting his closed eyes.

"But you're more than that—you're the birthday boy. You're lucky I love you so much, hm?"

As the pressure starts to relent, and give little by little, he finds himself nodding like a bobblehead, breaths rushing in and out. "Uh-huh. I am I am..."

"Look at me, babyboy."

When you use that name, he has to. He pries his eyes open and peers up through his heavy lashes. At least you don't look totally ambivalent—your eyes are like pools of lust.

"You've been a good boy. Wanna fuck my thighs? For a little while?"

You ask like there's a chance he'll say no. His eyes widen comically. The way his cock chooses that moment to throb is disarming, fucking humiliating, but he doesn't wait to feel the shame.

Yes. Yes. Your warm, cushy thighs, hugging and rubbing on his dick. It's not your mouth and far from the squeeze of your pussy, but he'll take anything. Anything.

"Then don't move." Your hands float over to his raised hips. "Not the slightest twitch. If I hear a single sound, then you don't get anything."

He grinds his teeth into dust. With some effort, he forces his hips to lower and nods, nostrils flaring as he takes deep breaths and readies himself. Not a twitch, not a sound.

The metal dully clinks as you release him, and his slit oozes cum. He's freed.

A whine instantly builds in his chest, but he locks his throat and reels from the blunted surge of relief. He keeps his eyes shut. If he watches your hands flit around so close to his needy cock, a sound will escape for sure.

That almost happens anyway when your fingers brush his shaft. Then a new, chilling metal is worked down his cock. It tightens severely, squeezing his base and choking his heavy balls. As his toes curl, he bites his fist. The harsh wrinkle between his brows deepens.

"Not too tight?"

In two measured movements, he shakes his head.

No. But. He wants to break out of this position—shoot up and pin you down with your feet behind your head, tear off your panties and shove right in. He bets you're wet. He can already taste it. Soft silky pussy on him. All that fucking heat massaging, cradling, sucking in his fat, needy cock. That sounds like the birthday gift of a lifetime and what he needs right. Fucking—

Your hand comes down hard from the side, slapping his tip. A cry leaps up in his throat. He kills it at the last second, but to do it he has to throw his head back. It hurt so fucking good.

"That's no, mommy."

He shudders, sobbing dryly. "No, mommy."

"That's better." You soothe the tremors in his thighs with your hands. "But you still moved."

His stomach plummets into the abyss. He rips his elbow off his face and gawks at you. "What? That's not fucking fair."

"You needed to be disciplined. You moved. Your fault." You raise a brow. "A gift isn't good if it's badly wrapped, right? If I just let you get away with whatever you want, then..."

"I get it," he groans, and starts to squirm. "Off. You're evil."

You pin your lips between your teeth to stave off a smirk. "Evil enough not to watch the rest of the movie with me?"

Levi is nowhere near calm enough to be able to fall asleep and make tomorrow come faster. He grunts, sits up, and snatches his clothes off the floor.

He grumbles, "Cuddle. Now."

After the night before, it happens just as you predicted. You're not surprised at all that you wake up early to grey light penetrating the bedroom, and heavy breathing in your ear. He clings to your back, so you get every heavy inch pushed up against your backside.

"You already want your present?" you croon sleepily. He's humping feverishly and holding on tight, as if he's been at this for several minutes.

"Didn't sleep," he whispers, practically pinning you to his chest now that you're awake. His lips bury in your neck. "Every time I did, I just dreamed about fucking you."

Oh. You shudder against him, and curve your back so he has more to rub up against. "You dreamed about your birthday present."

His teeth sink in, nipping and kissing. "Ngh, mm-hm. I need you. S'that what you wanna hear? I even... made the gift better."

"Oh?" You're fully awake. "You didn't have to do that."

You reach behind and sink your fingers in his hair. To encourage him even more, slowly, you grind your ass back on his crotch, and feel your lower half throb as his breaths immediately starts to tremble.

He's close again... but he won't admit it. Really, he's been close for days.

"Mm. If you wanna see, then gimme my fucking gift."

He didn't even need to say it once.

You shuffle around in his arms, pressing him back, and Levi goes like putty in your hands. He spreads his legs wide, leaning up into your palm as it spreads over his chest, adorned in a wool sweater. You play with his nipples, and feel the hints of a coarse texture underneath, but it has to be sheer for his nipples to still poke through like this.

He begs you with his hazy eyes.

"Don't worry, I'm giving it to you." Placing a hand on his fiery cheek, a doting expression on your face, has him leaning into it. You'll miss that. Between his legs, next to nothing is left up to the imagination despite the plush pajama bottoms.

You lick your lips. "Is it your gift from last year?"

"Find out," he rasps, leaning his hips up.

Your chest lifts. You push down on the swollen bulge between his legs, feeling for the firmer outline of the ring. If it weren't for that he would've come just humping you in his sleep. Once or more. You hum.

But you don't idle, you skip the foreplay. It's finally his birthday, and Levi deserves his gift.

You shove his sweater up and over his toned abdomen. Nothing here besides the gorgeous view you know already. "Arms up."

He yanks it over his head just as fast, revealing skimpy, lacy, snow-white. A brazier hugs his big chest tight and shows shameless cleavage at the same time. His blushing nipples are just visible to your hungry eyes.

His arms lay above his head to give you the best view from where you're sitting, awaiting your reaction.

"Oh," leaves you in a big breath. "Oh, you're so beautiful." Your fingertips dance along the frills flared out at the shoulders. "You're gorgeous."

He turns flustered, flinches almost. His cheeks darken into the color of cherries. "There's more."

You shuffle down his body, and drop between his legs. Unlike all those other days, you don't bother hiding how wet you really are because of him, from the sight of him alone.

"Up."

He lifts his bottom up as his fists squeeze above his head. He could use his hands as freely as he wants, though—it must be ingrained in him now to submit to you. It's incredibly sweet.

As you peel off his sweatpants, hot ache rises in you.

Anticipation balloons in Levi's stomach.

The skirt—it's flawlessly stitched to look like a skirt—is really a frilly white thong to match the brazier. It only leave the tops of his thighs and hips to the imagination, and none of his cock. It looks ready to split the soft silk, added by the wet spot darkening the snowy white to a faint grey. He looks fucking delicious. Tiny bows even decorate the sides, beside his hips.

More syrupy warmth oozes into your panties. You're so captivated that down, even further, you miss the kneesocks at first. They're as thin and silky as his panties, and the same shade of snow. Ruffled frills and lace, stitched in shapes to look like flowers, decorate the tops of his knees. You trace the delicate design, and he inhales. As low as they ride, thick pale flesh still spills over the tops of them.

You fold his knees back to watch them wave in the air, the little pair of panties, his pretty cock and his shapely plump ass. You drink him all in, the full view of your precious husband already undone and whining shamelessly underneath for you to make him come.

To, "F-Fucking do something."

Oh, you're dying to, but you don't want to see him without that frilly little skirt. You tug down the waistband just enough to free his engorged cock, which slaps his navel with no preamble. A low moan of relief falls out of his open mouth.

He squirms. You feel a little pity for him. His hard-on looks painful by this point. Despite the ring, he's made a mess of himself so his cock seems to shine, and make him even more enticing. He's not just swollen, but his flushed cock and even redder tip is engorged above his fat balls. The black ring hugging the base looks extremely out of place.

Above, his brows are pinched, lips parted to show a tease of his pink tongue. "Mommy," he mumbles weakly.

You pin his hips with your knees—having long-since sensed his desperation—and scoop up his heavy balls in one hand. Pearls of cum have dribbled all the way down, leaving them easy to squeeze and massage.

"Fuck!" he gasps. His head tilts back as his hips immediately try to leap up, pinned in place by you. "Fuck fuck."

You snag the front of his panties and slowly tug back and forth, digging the fabric into his taint and asshole while working his balls.

"Can you handle it?"

"Gonna—!" Gasping, Levi blindly grabs for the pillow behind his head and makes useless attempts to close his bent legs and shy back from the overwhelming stimulation. "Agh, coming please please—"

His poor cock pulses before your eyes, but of course, he still can't get his release. Even by your expectations, he's so much more pent-up than you thought. Too much to give it all to him right away.

He can definitely come with the ring.

You take that route first so he isn't overwhelmed later. Either way, you plan to give him what he deserves.

"Shh..." you soothe, still rubbing using the crotch of his panties, and tugging on his balls. He continues to writhe. "I need to make you less sensitive first."

He groans. "Whose. Fucking. Fault is—"

"Look at me, birthday boy." You slide the panties down—or rather up—to his folded knees, until they dangle off his ankles. He looks like a slutty model fit for a Christmas porn magazine. You leave his rumpled panties alone, and rub his cock.

In the opposite way, he thrashes his head from side to side, whining eagerly. Is he even listening?

You pick up his chin. "Look at mommy."

A big gasp fills his chest as his hazy silver eyes, swimming in lust, focus on yours. Then fall into slits as you properly get your fist around him, and start off with steady, tight pumps.

"Agh need to—come..."

"Eyes stay on me. I wanna watch when I make you come. You wanna come for me, right? For mommy?"

A cry that hardly sounds like Levi bursts out of him. His jaw slackens, moaning what sounds like an affirmative as the slippery sounds get louder and more soaked.

His squirming starts to grow into thrashing. You pin him under more of your weight as toes in those kneesocks curl.

"You can do it with the ring—I know you can. Then you get my mouth on this pretty dick"—you push your thumb through his slit—"and then you can have my pussy."

"Fucking please! Ah. Ah..."

You push your thumb in his gaping mouth, not to pacify him, but to trap his tongue so nothing can be muffled, swallowed, or hidden in any way.

As if he's cognizant of his noises at all. Someone could hear him keening and crying from across the house right now. He humps and writhes in vain under your weight—at your mercy even now.

"Can'," he gasps, hindered by your thumb. "Off."

"No," you state firmly. "You're coming like this."

In the span of only a few minutes, his nonstop writhing stiffens. He cries out girlishly as a slew of dry waves surge through not just his cock and balls but his whole body—curled toes to his empty mind.

It's nothing and it kills him at the same time. His dry climax fuels the tight arch his back takes, then a thick gush of cum dribbling down his dick. More drool drivels down from either side of his open mouth, and drips down his chin.

You groan at the sight. "Good boy... I knew you could do it."

Levi moans heatedly. What are the words?—He just hears that honeyed praise in your voice.

The weight on his hips disappears, along with your thumb as you get into place between his legs. Your hand lands on that evil ring, causing his breath to tremble, then catch as your tongue darts out and licks his tip. "You can do anything you want with my mouth, remember?"

"Ah—uh-huh... P... Please..."

He seems in a whole other world, more than just dumb on the sex—but floating away. You don't want him to go into subspace when it's up to him to take what he wants. Adorable, but not your intentions.

"Stay with me, baby."

That's hard right now. He doesn't know what to do with his hands. His chin tilts back, revealing his bobbing adam's apple as you free his heavy cock. From that moment, he's inches from the edge again. If you just licked him again...

You kiss his lips, getting his hazy eyes to crack open. "This is your day—you can have any part of me you want, so you're in control now. Come back to me, baby."

Your voice, and your reassuring touches help ground him. Coming down from that floating place, he rasps, "Anything...?"

"Mm, I'm yours." You lean down, and kiss his silky lips. "I'm your gift."

A new sheen enters his eyes. He finally lowers his hands, and they fall on your shoulders, pushing your head down into the position from before. Your palms land evenly on the wide planes of his thighs.

"Suck," he whispers.

Your lips obediently close on his tip, suckling and lathing it in your tongue eagerly.

He reels. The soft soaked heat of your mouth effortlessly steals the thoughts from his mind and all sense of patience from his hips—what little he scrounged up after that weak climax.

"Need—" manages to escape him as his fingers make a fist in your hair, and he jerks, stuffing your throat in two thrusts. He feels your throat close on him, and he gasps, "S-Sorry."

You make a disapproving noise and recover quickly. A moment later you bear down even harder, hollowing your cheeks and nuzzling deep into the black curls at the base. You're his.

"Fffuck," he whines, humping shamelessly. His balls slap your chin. To go from nearly nothing to this tight sea of heat eviscerates any notion of an unneeded sorry.

He folds one of his socked legs back to get it deeper. Trying to match his movements becomes completely pointless in a flash. You brace yourself on the sheets outside his waist, and whine. His grip on your hair that he uses to hold you in place creates a sweet sting as he ruts, and then fucks a little deeper, using your mouth for a fucktoy. The blunt, slippery sounds are obscene.

Soon, he starts to ramble, "Fuck your mouth, love your pretty fuckin' mouth I need to come—s'gonna make me come"

Drool pools at the sides of your mouth as he rapidly slides over your tongue. You flare your nostrils to do the bare minimum to breathe—you devote more of your energy to being a hole.

Under a minute. His wide thighs draw tense like iron. He gasps, calls out your name, and dissolves into violent shivers when he comes. Hips snap with reckless abandon as he drains his balls down your throat. You swallow fitfully, and mewl.

Hot tears paint your cheeks that you rapidly blink away as his needy thrusts slow to needy rocking. He doesn't go soft.

When he's trembling, but still, you pull off coughing, still swallowing. A few drops ooze down your chin, besides the drool. You swipe your arm across your mouth.

But it's worth it. It was worth it before he did it. And the way he gazes up now, longing and more than a little wrecked makes it more so.

He sits up on his hands, seizes you at the sides and easily manhandles you until you find yourself shoved and bent in a tight kneel, ass in the air. With a hard grunt, you go down and arch your back. Somehow through all of that, you kept your tank-top and sweatpants.

"Get this fucking shit off," he growls.

"Take it—"

In one rough tug, he rips down your pants. He doesn't bother to take them off—just enough to expose your cunt. You suck in a breath as he spreads your lips, and the cool air touches your glistening pussy.

It's just begging for something to be stuffed inside it. He slides three through your slit, and sinks them inside with ease, making you croon. As soon as they're in, and thrusting in quick sloppy motions, you get tight.

He wanted to make sure—and this. Out again, he stretches his fingers apart, webbed with cum, and licks them clean as he mounts you.

"Fuck me," you moan.

"Shut up."

You shut up.

He spreads your lips and guides his cock through your soaked slit, groaning roughly along with your gasp. He could come just from this, pressing on your folds, getting him soaked in your cum.

"You ready?" he asks.

Levi shoves inside, filling your cunt to the brim in one swift thrust—you barely get the chance to cry out, gaping. Suddenly you're full. Firm balls clap against your ass.

He moans from the bottom of his chest as your tight heat clamps down on him. He missed it, so he grinds in deep, savoring it, and giving you a moment to adjust.

Only a moment. Finally, he gets to fuck. He rams in at a rapid, ruthless pace from the start, deep, so you get to feel it all in a flurry of thrusts from his tip to his fat balls rapidly clapping against your lips. It's loud—almost as loud as you.

"Fuck! Yeah just like—"

"S'my birthday," he moans. His thrusts drag.

Then he lurches forward on the next inward thrust, and pretty white lace is shoved past your lips, stuffing it. He plants your head down. "Toys don't talk."

You whine, throaty and high, and submit. His panties were wet before, but they get soaked quick. You suckle, tasting peaky salt and coarse lace.

His fucking resumes harder than ever. He pins your hips in place. The soaked slapping sounds are loud even over his panting, and you can't help but cry out.

More than fucking you, he uses you. Uses you up for all the last week has been worth.

You purposefully clench down on him, like a massage. You want to make this even better for him, and you reap the reward of hearing him moan, breathy and full.

He bears down harder than ever, ramming in, then dragging out, taking his time. To the tip, to fill you up all over again. He loves watching your cunt almost as much as he loves fucking it. It's puffy, and full of him. When he pulls out, his thick shaft is slathered in it.

"Shit. Your cunt's fucking mine." The hand not pinning your hip comes down on your pussy with a wet slap. You arch your back, and wail, managing to nod.

You got tighter. He whines, and his hand comes down again, his jaw falling slack as your silky cunt squeezes deliciously tight. "Yeah."

His pace resumes as his hand fumbles for your tanktop and yanks, causing your tits to spill out. He scoops one up in his palm and squeezes with abandon, as if staking claim. "I'm gonna fuckin' come in it, then it's really gonna be mine."

A shiver shakes your whole body. Tears ooze down your cheeks as your arch your back. All fucking his, not just today, but especially.

His cock pistons inside at a blinding pace—his hips can barely keep up with his rising climax—before his balls give a deep throb, and he stills. His thighs lock outside your hips as he gasps. He's stranded at the highest peak before the first wave takes him under. "Coming."

You bite down on the lace. As liquid heat shoots inside, you moan with the feeling, head swimming. He never held back—and especially not now that he pumps his cum deep inside you. He moans so sweetly.

With the dying throbs, he braces himself with his hand gnarled in your hair. Delightful shivers shake through him. As they recede, he grinds deep inside in weak rolls.

In the aftermath, he pants harshly, and taps your chin. The soggy panties sag from your mouth. His cock, completely soft, slides out.

You catch a look at his face. His flustered cheeks and the sheen of sweat on his forehead are the picture of fucked-out. It could be a trick of the light, but his heavy silver eyes gleam almost. One side of the frilly brazier sags hafway down his shoulder.

He asks, "You alright after that?"

You nod with a gravely hum. Fleetingly, he affectionately scratches your scalp and leans back. He's satisfied to see your pussy oozing him.

Very satisfied. He falls down next to you on his back, and tugs at you to follow.

You groan, and collapse, resting your head on his chest. You're still horny, but that can come later... if he wants you to.

He's unmoving, except for his chest rising and falling quickly. Slowly, you both recover and catch your breath.

You smile wearily, and reach over, carding his damp bangs off his face. You fucked the life out of him. "Did you like your gift?"

He turns his head for more. "Water wet?"

"Mm... Not technically."

He deadpans, and drags you into his arms, practically purring under your touch. This is one of those rare instances that he looks ready to doze off right after. Considering you kept him pent up for a week straight... and the way he stepped into subspace for a minute there, you're not surprised.

"You can nap for a little while. It's still early."

"Mm. Mhm. Maybe." Finally, his eyes crack open. "Kiss."

Beaming, you lean down and do just that, the press gentle, but deep. One that says, I love you.

His lips capture yours in kind, but sluggishly. You want to run a bath for him a little later—although he's tired now, you're in for an especially grumpy Levi when he wakes up if you don't—but for now, you murmur against his lips, "Happy birthday, angel."

#LEVI BIRTHDAY FIC #levi ackerman x reader #snk smut #levi smut #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi ackerman smut #aot smut #captain levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #aot lemon #captain levi x you #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi x you #aot imagines #levi oneshot #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman scenarios #levi ackerman x female reader

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trulybetty · 4 months

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Pickled Peña | Resolutions

Prompts: pickles, resolutions & "You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?" Pairing: Javi P. x gn!reader Word Count: 1,041 Warnings: alcohol, hangovers, smoking, resolutions & maybe some angst? oh, and pickles if you hadn't worked that one out 😋 - oh, and author has watched like four episodes of Narcos and copious amounts of gifs! Summary: you had one resolution for the new year, yet somehow you managed break it before the new year could even really start AO3: Linked Masterlist: check out @pickled-pena for the full masterlist of entries 🥒

A/N: this is my entry for the first @pickled-pena challenge. The rules were simple, use all of the three prompts, a minimum of 500 words and have fun with it. If you want to join in on the fun, you have the month of January to post your entries. Head over to @pickled-pena for more information or feel free to reach out!

You blinked against the harsh sunlight streaming through the window, the remnants of last night's celebrations lingering like the dust in the air that could be seen in the streaks of light. You'd ended up in Javi's bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, a testament to the chaos of the evening before.

You groaned, you couldn’t remember much of what happened once you’d made it back to to his place. You tried to focus enough to look at the hands of your watch, but at that moment it was proving difficult without inciting a further pounding to your head.

What you could remember though was that it was January 1st, 1999, because last night you’d attended a New Year's party hosted by Javi’s cousin.

The house was silent and still, as if it were taking in a deep breath after the milestone of another year gone by.

With two failed attempts at getting out of bed, on the third you successfully swung your legs over the side, your feet sinking into the artificial shag of the carpet. You scrunched your feet, feeling the fibres tickle between your toes. The dark cherry hardwood panelling lined all four walls, only broken up by the sun-faded buttercup yellow curtains that framed the small window across the room.

The room, and the house encompassing it, were frozen in the fifties, the last time the home’s decor had received any attention.

Managing to pull yourself up you found the woollen sweater you’d had on the night before and after some searching managed to find your leggings on the other side of the room. The rest of your belongings had been strewn about the house in a pathway that led from the front door to the door of Javi’s room.

Stepping out of the bedroom to the living room, you were grateful the curtains were still pulled. The smell of coffee had you shuffling to the kitchen, pausing only momentarily to pull the crocheted afghan from the back of the sofa around your shoulders. The patchwork of colours was almost too bright in the light of the headache that had moved behind your eyes. You just hoped it’d stave off the cold that had settled in the house.

The kitchen tiles were cool under your feet, and had you bouncing on the balls of your feet. The cold too much coming off of the carpeted living room. You poured yourself a steaming cup of coffee. It was strong and black, the bitter aroma wrapped around you like a familiar embrace.

With the chipped mug cupped between your hands, you slipped on your boots and stepped outside. The air was chilly and the blanket wasn’t enough to stave off the cold, but it felt refreshing in your hungover state. Though very much a stark contrast to the warmth of Javi’s bed you’d left behind.

Shielding your eyes from the morning sun there he was at the edge of the property, where the land stretched out to rolling hills. He was leant against the fence, the one he and his father had built the week before, a cigarette dangling from his lips. There was an aura of peace about him that you couldn’t help but gravitate towards.

If he knew you were there, he didn’t make it known. Only acknowledging you with a brief nod when you handed him your coffee to hop up onto the fence before taking it back to fill your hands with the warmth it held.

Exchanging a look between the two of you, you accepted the silent offer of a drag from his cigarette. The smoke filled your lungs, a familiar burn that didn’t quite hide the taste of last night's mistakes.

“I broke my resolution already,” you said, the words floating out with the smoke from your lips.

Javi turned to you, a question in his eyes. “What was that?”

“That I wouldn't sleep with you again.”

You don’t know when he’d gotten that much closer, the heat of his body was in contrast to the chill of the morning. He nuzzled your jaw with his nose, a gesture so typical of him that it tightened something in your chest. “Why's that?” he asks, his voice a gentle rumble.

“You know why, Javi,” you reply, the reminder bitter on your tongue.

He smiled, a flash of teeth and mischief. “That was last year.”

“We got back here at 2 am, Javi. Hardly a new leaf turned.”

His chuckle was soft, almost lost to the wind that rustled through the trees. “Things got fuzzy after those shots.”

You both fall silent, the ridiculousness of last night's concoction making you grimace. “Who told Leslie-Ann that mixing pickle juice with tequila was a good thing?”

Javi just laughed, the sound echoing in the crisp morning air, as if the absurdity of the concoction was a fitting tribute to the absurdity of resolutions—and maybe, to the unpredictable nature of the relationship between the two of you.

He moved closer, the look in his eyes a mix of warmth and something a little more earnest. His hand found yours, fingers entwining as if they always belonged together. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that held the soft promise of the new year. It was a kiss that spoke of the years gone by, of the turbulent history shared, and the magnetic pull that kept drawing the two of you back to each other.

The kiss broke, leaving you both slightly breathless. You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his as you steadied your voice, “You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?”

Javi's eyes softened, the playful edge giving way to sincerity, “I was right by your side sweetheart, making the same foolish decision as you to drink that shit.”

The intensity of his gaze held you captive, his words holding a deeper meaning tethering you to the spot. You felt the weight of the unspoken feelings between you, the years of near-misses and what-ifs crystallizing into a single, fragile moment under that New Year's sky.

#pickledpena #pickledpeña writing challenge #pickled-pena #pickled-peña #javier peña fanfiction #javi peña x you #narcos fanfiction #javi peña x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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let-them-read-fics · 1 year

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Dreamcatcher Reaction To Having A Really Affectionate S/O

Pairing: Dreamcatcher x GN!Reader

Requested By Anon: "hii can i request dreamcatcher reacting to having a really affectionate s/o (their love language is physical touch)?"

A/N: Hello hello, my lovely readers! I'm back again with some Dreamcatcher fluff, just for you. I hope you like all of these! Don't forget to like, comment, and reblog; it keeps me motivated :)

Info: Each member has a reaction, a story snippet / oneshot, and their love languages ranked. It's loooong, so enjoy!

Jiu

Adores it. She’s mentioned before that she feels the safest when she’s in your arms, so it’s really a no-brainer that she’s happiest whenever you’re loving on her

Just as much as she loves to take care of you and the girls, she secretly loves to get taken care of, too

Especially by you

You just know all the right ways to hold her and help her relax. Your back rubs are elite, according to her. She lowkey thinks you were a professional masseuse in your past life

You’re her personal heater

And pillow

On particularly rough days, she’ll just fall into your waiting arms and let you work your magic. She vents about her stressors, gradually releasing all of the pent-up tension that she’d been unable to get rid of on her own, until her complaints eventually subside and dissolve into quiet, sulky mumbles as she teeters on the edge of sleep

When you see her so cuddly and relaxed like that, you just…*heart clutch*

Likewise, Jiu regards you with those exact same, astronomically high levels of adoration

You’re literally the most precious and pure thing in the world to her. When you peer up at her with those bright eyes of yours, so starry and full of love for her, she always ends up blushing. She wants to protect you and your cuteness from the world

“My sweet Y/N… what did I ever do to deserve you?”

Without even trying, the two of you naturally gravitate towards one another whenever you’re together. You never have to ask for her attention or affection because she gives it just as readily as you do

When you’re out in public, she never lets you stray too far from her. Both because she’ll inevitably be holding some article of clothing up to you to see if it would fit, or pointing some piece of nature out to you, or discussing what you should grab for lunch….and also because she just wants you nearby.

Though she doesn’t mind admiring the view she gets when you walk away, too ;)

She loves to play with your hands while you cuddle, and she also loves when you put your head in her lap

She sings to you

Whenever her schedule gets busy or the girls go on tour, she leaves some of her hoodies behind for you and makes sure to spray her perfume on them. She also presets a weekly reminder in your phone to display a sweet message for you, aware that you’ll be missing her a lot. She programs it to sound off around the time you typically wake up in the mornings because she wants it to be the first thing you see. If she can’t be there with you physically, she’ll gladly do that to make up for it

Video calls whenever you’re apart. She doesn’t feel fully at ease unless she knows you’re safe and happy

Seeing you never fails to brighten her day

Overall just a total ball of sunshine who is super super soft for you

Story Snippet

7:32 PM

About an hour and a half had passed since your last check-in on her, and you decided it was time to peek in again.

Quietly, so as to not disturb the rare bout of calmness that had befallen the dorm, you approached her bedroom door and turned the knob, opening it gently. A sliver of light from the hall rushed in, cutting through the relative dark.

Her bedside lamp was still on – dimmed to the lowest setting, just like you left it before. The bottle of water on her nightstand was a little closer to being empty than you remember, and the headache pills you had set out were gone.

Your eyes tracked over to her soft form on the bed, finding her tucked in but awake. A sleepy, exhausted smile showed on her face when she realized it was you at the door, just barely visible in the low light. Like always, though, it had a way of shining and brightening up everything around her.

Even when she was feeling under the weather, she couldn’t help but be radiant.

“Hi, baby,” her gentle voice greeted, sounding a bit strained.

The overexertion that she'd subjected herself to over the past few days was rearing its ugly head.

“Hi, my love.” You smiled pitifully, stepping inside. You shut the door behind yourself and approached the bed, standing at the foot of it. “How are you feeling now?”

“Drained,” she admitted. “I’m still tired; I haven’t been able to wind down.”

You nodded. “You’ve worked hard this week, so that makes sense. Can I get you anything to help?”

“Yeah, actually.” She pepped up the slightest bit.

“Name it and it’s yours.”

A grin pulled at her lips of the irony of that.

“You,” she answered. “Come here, I want to hold you.”

She opened the fluffy covers and waved you in, patting the space next to her. The smile on your face widened shyly at that, but you didn’t hesitate to do as she asked. You climbed in and settled close to her, letting her arms wind around you in the special way they always do.

Her lips pressed to yours, once… twice… three times, before she regained control of herself and opted to keep things PG. It was a bit difficult, with how soft and warm you were, sliding up against her and oh so tempting, but her better judgment managed to prevail in the end.

“I’ve been worried about you today,” you confessed, the words slightly mumbled as your cheek pressed to her chest, “...and I’ve missed you.”

You pouted, and she could feel it. Though she couldn’t see it, she knew it looked adorable.

“I’ve missed you, too, baby,” she chuckled quietly, easing your worries a little in the process. “The bed feels so empty without you in it… I think that’s why I haven't been able to rest very well.”

You melted at her words, feeling so loved. How did she always manage to do that so easily?

“You mean it?”

She nodded, running one of her hands down your back as she scooted a little closer to you. “Absolutely, I do. So you’re not allowed to leave, okay? No slipping away.”

“Okay. I promise,” you assured her.

You smiled when she released a sigh and relaxed into you, letting herself succumb to the exhaustion she felt. She knew you’d keep an eye on her – that she was safe and cared for – and that seemed to be the missing puzzle piece for her.

After just a couple of minutes of being in your presence, she was finally able to fully wind down; you felt it in the way that her breathing evened out and the tension in her muscles dissipated.

The throbbing of her head mellowed, no longer unbearable. You were comfortable and easy to melt into, serving as the perfect distraction from the pain. With every gentle kiss you pressed to her skin and every pass your fingers made through her hair, she took another step towards the edge of sleep.

A little later, as you went to ask her if the pills had helped any, you were halted by the sound of her soft snores. They filled the air of the bedroom around you, making it impossible to hide your grin.

So precious.

Her “Giving” Love Languages Ranked:

1.) Physical Touch

2.) Quality Time

3.) Acts of Service

4.) Words of Affirmation

5.) Gifts

Honestly she's pretty much the human embodiment of all five of them put together. She will quite literally do anything to make you happy. Always, always, always watching out for you.

◤─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────◥

Sua

LOVES IT, ARE YOU KIDDING??

She never gets tired of your touch, and she really enjoys being with someone as clingy as she is

When you both get excited about something, it gets so loud and wild

High pitched laughing, yelling, jumping around, squealing… the whole nine yards

On the rare occasion that she’s busy doing something and not actively seeking affection or already clinging to you, you’ll initiate things. It goes straight to her head and she doesn’t shut up about it for the rest of the day. Gloats and brags about how cute and cuddly you are for her

But it also tends to make her blushy and flustered, and you're the only person capable of doing that.

She says you’re the only one who really understands her and her ways of showing love

Although she hides it well, sometimes she’s afraid that she does too much and annoys other people with her affection. But you’re always there to reassure her of the opposite (because you’re just like her)

Squishes your cheeks a lot and gushes about how cute you are

She protects you and your cuteness with her life.

If anyone ever brushes you off or rejects your affection, she'll sweep you up in her arms and hold you close while yelling at them for it

Sometimes she'll literally just lay on you. She's a firm believer that being "too close" is simply impossible

Plays with your hair when you're cuddling

When you’re walking together she usually slips a hand into your back pocket and keeps it there because she loves your ass so much

She loves it when you show affection in public, whether that’s by holding her close, pressing sweet kisses to her lips, holding hands, etc. Knowing that you’re proud of your love for her and you aren’t afraid to own it or show it makes her happy

She also really enjoys it when you show her off

Play fighting is basically a daily occurrence for you. She chooses violence at least once a day

Despite the fact that she can be super aggressive and loud with her affection, she’s also equally as soft for you

Like when you’re all snuggled up in bed and waiting on her, she’ll just admire you from the doorway and smile to herself

Morning cuddles are a must for her. She never wants to get up when you’re at her side because you’re just so soft and warm and holding you is so comforting

She loves the way the two of you fit together

You’re her assistant chef whenever she cooks for everyone. She trusts you to try all of her creations and help her fix everything

That also definitely includes back hugs and a few kiss breaks because the sight of you in an apron drives her a little crazy

“Can you be on my menu tonight?” *wiggles eyebrows*

You’ve always made her feel safe, and she’s never afraid to be herself around you. You appreciate and accept all of her – every insecurity and perfect imperfection included

Story Snippet

The day’s taping of Show Champion was coming to an end as you snuck your way into the girls’ dressing room, aided by one of the backstage workers that was privy to your plans. She helped you hide within one of the closets and wished you luck before leaving just as inconspicuously as she had arrived.

10 Minutes Later

You nearly cracked your head on the back wall when the seven of them burst into the room, loudly conversing and joking with one another. The stems of the flowers in your hand squeaked together quietly, almost as a silent plea for release as you unconsciously tightened your hold on them.

From what sliver of the room you could see through the doors, all of the girls still had wide smiles on their faces. They were exhausted, sure, but happy and content with how the evening was going.

Well, all but one.

Garbled bits and pieces of their conversations made their way over to you as you watched Sua sit down at one of the mirrored stations, putting some distance between herself and the other girls. She took out her phone and began scrolling soon after, most likely as a means of distraction.

Your heart ached a little at the sight. You knew she was feeling down – the girls had told you as much, through texts – but seeing it happen right in front of you made it all the more real.

For the past week and a half, your busy schedules had combined to form the most awful amalgamation of missed opportunities; anytime one of you happened to be free, even for a short while, the other was booked for some important task that was incapable of being canceled or otherwise wormed out of.

All of the girls had missed you, but Sua was the one most affected by your absence – and everyone knew it.

Her spirits had been low, and her normal vibrancy was diminished; it was strange, frankly – a little dystopian – for her to be so unlike herself. The girls depended on her chaotic energy to keep things running smoothly; their dynamic was simply thrown off without it.

But Sua couldn’t even find it in herself to bother entertaining their banter, let alone join in. She didn’t have it in her to keep up with them today.

Although the sight of her so dejected was upsetting, it made a small smile show on your lips; you would be able to cheer her up in no time, and the 180 that she would undergo would undoubtedly make all of the waiting she’d done be worth it.

You counted down silently, wanting to time your entrance perfectly.

3…2…1-

Just as your free hand went to push the door open and kick off your big reveal, your cell phone began to ring in your pocket.

You faltered, fumbling quickly to retrieve it. Sua’s contact image shined brightly, cutting through the dark around you.

The outside world went silent – everyone quickly hushing up at the sudden noise.

You shut your eyes in defeat, sliding up on the green button, while simultaneously opening the door with your foot.

“Surprise.” You said into the phone, locking eyes with her from across the room.

Silence prevailed… one beat, two…. Until the earlier chaos returned with even more spirit than before.

Shouts of your name rang out from the girls, staccato and shocked as they attempted to figure out how you had managed to get there. Sua, on the other hand, didn’t bother with that; she ran up to you, her face lighting up like an eager child’s as you emerged from the closet and turned your phone off. You slipped the device into your pocket and extended the flowers to her.

“Hi, baby,” you grinned, “I finally convinced my boss to let me have a day off, and now I’m he—”

She cut you off at once, wrapping her arms around you at the speed of light and pulling you into the tightest hug you’d ever experienced. What remained of your explanation fizzled out in an instant, knocked from your lungs right along with all the air you had left.

The bouquet fell from your hands when she picked you up and wiggled you around in the air. Your shoes slightly brushed the ground between sways, and you groaned.

“Can’t…breathe…” You struggled out, constricted as she squeezed the life out of you.

Her arms only further tightened around you in response, full of days and days worth of pent up affection with no other place to go.

“Unnie, let go!” Dami scolded, coming up to slap her shoulder. “Y/N/N isn't going anywhere.”

Mere seconds before you went fully limp in her arms, your assailant – AKA the love of your life – put you back down on your feet and took a small step back to look at you.

Glorious, glorious air returned to your lungs in a rush, and you heaved for a brief moment or two. Once your vision returned and the floating spots that had been clouding it retreated, you blinked a few times and turned your attention to Sua.

A cute pout rested on her lips. “I’m sorry, jagi,” she muttered, the words partially aegyo-fied, but the glint in her eye told you that she wasn’t all that sorry at all. “I’ve just missed you so much.”

Wordlessly, you pulled her in close and hugged her again. She could feel the happy upturn of your lips against her neck as you buried your face there, just as relieved as she was to be reunited.

“I’ve missed you, too.” You whispered to her, pressing a kiss to her pulsepoint, and then her jaw, and finally her cheek.

She blushed wildly, growing increasingly more red by the second; the girls noticed, and their exaggerated coos and whoops soon filled the dressing room. When she turned to glare at them, hoping to scare them into silence, she quickly discovered that her typical method of intimidation wasn’t going to work in bringing their teasing to an end this time.

In the name of retribution, she delivered a retaliatory shove to your shoulder instead.

“Yah! We’re finally back together and you have to go embarrassing me right off the bat?” She scolded, voice shrill. “Pabo–”

You placed your lips against hers swiftly, kissing away her anger before it could accrue anymore firepower. Your arms wrapped around her waist, tugging her flush against the front of your body.

She still attempted to mumble an annoyed protest against your lips, but when you grinned and pinched her side, she gave in and melted into your embrace, scoffing quietly.

…

Dami grimaced as she stood in front of the girls, witnessing you kiss again. Sua shamelessly pushed you up against the closet, acting as though they all weren’t a matter of steps away from the both of you.

The bouquet rested in Dami’s hands, courtesy of her earlier retrieval of it from the floor.

“Should I…”

“Just leave it,” Yoohyeon answered abruptly, sharing a similar expression.

Dami nodded and placed it down on the couch before they all backed away and made a bee-line out of the dressing room, pretending to gag.

Her “Giving” Love Languages Ranked:

1.) Physical Touch

2.) Acts of Service

3.) Quality Time

4.) Words of Affirmation

5.) Gifts

Obviously, she’s first and foremost the best at demonstrating her love physically. Like the universal master of it. But aside from that, her strong suit is taking care of you. It comes naturally, and she can almost always be found doing something to make life that much easier on you. Cooking your favorite dishes when you’re hungry, nursing you back to health when you’re sick, being your shoulder to cry on, pulling your hair up when your hands are occupied, etc.

◤──��──•~❉᯽❉~•─────◥

Siyeon

Couldn’t be happier. She absolutely loooooves being close to you

She could cuddle you for hours on end

Maybe even forever

She rubs your back when she's holding you, tracing mindless patterns against your skin. Having you close is so special to her

Sings to you, sometimes coming up with new material on the fly. You’re her muse, after all, so it’s easy with you around

When things get too hectic and hard for her to deal with, you’re always by her side in a heartbeat

You can read her like a book, and she’s so grateful for that

She thanks her lucky stars on the daily for the fact that she found you in this great big world

When you seek comfort from her and retreat into the safety of her arms, she gets so protective of you. You could simply be evading the wind on a chilly day and she’ll lowkey yell at it to leave you alone while she holds you against her.

She bought you matching rings for your anniversary one year, and when she zones out she always has a habit of toying with yours and playing with your fingers.

Sometimes you all even zone out together (#CoupleGoals)

She pinches your elbow and the back of your hands a lot

When you go full koala mode and just latch onto her and refuse to let go, she gets so happy. It makes her slow down and just revel in the simplicity of your touch, appreciating every second she gets to spend with you (because your schedules don’t always align, and sometimes it can be difficult to have free time like that)

You’re basically her stress reliever. When you’re holding her, nothing else matters

And once you start cuddling, don’t expect her to let you get away without a fight. If you say you want a snack, she’s not afraid to pick you up and carry you into the kitchen just so she can be with you that much longer

“Baby, I’m not gonna drop you. I promise. Have some faith in your wolfie.”

Like Sua, she enjoys PDA. Not anything extreme, of course, but she likes it when you let people know that she’s yours and you’re hers. It helps prevent her from getting jealous (which happens sometimes, but a kiss from you usually solves that)

She’s seriously down bad for you and whipped in a major way. A single touch is powerful enough to make her weak in the knees

Our wolfie is totally *heart eyes* for you

Story Snippet

Siyeon's legs intertwined with yours as you laid down on top of her, pressing her into the couch. She tugged you in, urging you ever-closer as her warm hands settled against your hips. Her thumbs rubbed circles there, soft through the material of your shirt.

The musky scent of her perfume wafted into the air with her movements; it comforted you, putting you even more at ease. Your brain had long ago associated and equated that smell with home.

She smiled brightly, peering up at you with her dark eyes as she giggled at some random joke you had just made. You always knew just what to say to make her laugh.

"You're so beautiful, jagi," you praised, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"You think so?" She played, batting her lashes.

"More than you'll ever know. I'm the luckiest person alive," you mused.

The blush on her cheeks spread, becoming more prominent as it flitted its way across the bridge of her nose. She turned her head slightly to the side, briefly glancing away; she felt small beneath your gaze. You always looked at her like she was the most valuable thing in the universe; it made her shy.

"You're such a smooth talker," she groaned.

You chuckled and leaned down, kissing her cheek. Your lips trailed over to hers, ghosting softly across her flawless skin as they pressed a few stray kisses here and there along the way.

Her eyes fluttered shut the moment your lips met, fitting together as if they were created for that sole purpose. The vanilla balm smoothed across hers was partially smudged and wiped off – a result of the earlier kisses you couldn’t refrain from stealing, when the two of you had first lost interest in the movie you were watching. Its flavor remained, though, just as enticing as always.

Inconspicuously slipped beneath your shirt, her fingers curled slightly along the small of your back – where her hands had now come to settle. She drew you closer, comforted by the way you felt against her. Your subsequent hum of gratitude made her melt.

The pad of your thumb made a pass over her cheek, rubbing it gently as you deepened the kiss. It stole her breath away, but she used what little she had left to gasp lightly into your mouth.

You smiled, unable to help yourself.

Stomp, stomp, stomp

Heavy, authoritarian footfalls resounded in the hallway outside of the dorm's door, gaining your attention. You curiously raised your head, and Siyeon lifted her chin to peek back at it.

A mere second later, Sua came blasting in.

"Yah! Y/N L/N!"

Shit.

"Yoohyeon told me everything," she said, striding into the middle of the room. Yoohyeon trailed after, staying at a distance as she shut the door behind herself. She was wincing, appearing to heavily regret her earlier slip up.

You raised up, pushing yourself off of Siyeon and up onto your knees. She propped herself up on an elbow, clearly intrigued and confused.

"How could you take my hoodie without telling me?" Sua shrieked, approaching you with her hands out. They gripped your collar, shaking with purpose.

"A-ah," you laughed nervously, dryly, "I was going to ask first, but I was running late this morning and had to just throw something on. My things were in the wash."

"What if something stained it? You know how much I love it."

"I would've bought you another," you promised, voice slightly strained as she tightened her grip, thus preventing you from breathing normally.

"You can't just 'buy another'! That line is discontinued now!"

"Nothing happened, though–" you sputtered. "You're worrying for nothing; I already put it back.”

Disbelief gleamed in Sua’s eyes, and when Siyeon caught a glimpse of it she sat up at once.

She knew then that your demise was imminent.

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” Sua bellowed, yanking you around. As she prepared to shove you backwards onto the couch and pounce, Siyeon selflessly put herself in front of you. She held her arms out, blocking you from all of the unnie’s methods of attack.

“Save yourself, Y/N! I’ll hold her off!”

“No…” you said, voice dropping dramatically as your head vehemently swayed left to right.

Amidst a slew of shoves and jabs from Sua, she nodded sadly, remaining strong. “Just go,” she begged.

Her soft cheek nuzzled against your palm as you reached forward to briefly cup it, sharing one final embrace.

“Remember me.”

“Always,” you whispered, holding back a grin at how dramatic the two of you were being.

Following a subtle signal from her, you stumbled off of the coach as she turned and tackled Sua away from you, landing on the opposite end of it. Your sock clad feet slipped and slid on the wood flooring, providing you no sense of control as you scrambled to escape with your life.

When you careened into the hallway wall, you shot a look over your shoulder; it was a horrific mistake, however, as it only awarded you the image of Sua slapping her elbow and jumping into the air before landing on Siyeon with it. A loud groan resounded around the living room, followed by Yoohyeon’s fading plea of “Unnie, no!” as you snapped your head forward again and set your sights on Jiu’s door at the end of the hall.

Your legs gave out from how quickly you attempted to kick off again, sending you to the floor.

Sua chuckled from somewhere behind you, far enough away to not pose an immediate threat, but still far too close for comfort. You pushed yourself off of the ground and sped off again, using the walls to propel yourself forward even faster.

The knob of Jiu’s door slid into your hand and twisted smoothly, pulling a sigh of relief from you – thank God it wasn’t locked. Without wasting time on knocking, you blasted in and slammed it behind yourself, void of any and all grace whatsoever.

You heaved, pressing your back to it and reaching down to lock it just as Sua’s frame collided with its other side. She had nearly gotten you – you’d made it just in the nick of time.

Jiu perked up on her bed, eyebrows raised and eyes open wide. The glow of her phone screen cast across her face and chest.

“Sua.” You explained, without having to elaborate. Her name alone validated your behavior a million times over.

The shock on Jiu’s face dissipated at once, turning to understanding.

“Sua,” she repeated, nodding.

Her “Receiving” Love Languages Ranked:

1.) Quality Time

2.) Physical Touch

3.) Words of Affirmation

4.) Acts of Service

5.) Gifts

Our big bad wolfie might have a good poker face sometimes, but we all know she isn’t all that big or bad. She’s definitely a softie at heart and loves to hear every sweet thing you have to tell her when you’re spending time together.

◤─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────◥

Handong

Very soft about it

She adores the attention you give her, and she always enjoys having you by her side. It makes her feel important and highkey boosts her ego

Also, having you nearby makes it easy for the two of you to be (playfully) judgy together and whisper jokes without other people interfering or overhearing

Aside from that, you genuinely comfort her in a lot of ways, and when you're apart she always finds herself missing you

“You know, now I get homesick twice as much, Y/N. Half for my country, and half for you.”

Sometimes she teases you, cheekily saying that you just can't keep your hands off of her

But tbh she can’t keep her hands off you either

She’s a fan of more subtle touches, like a simple hand on the thigh beneath the table or an arm around the waist

Honestly though she also loves it when you surprise her with a spontaneous kiss (on the cheek or lips), or hug her and spin her around. It makes her blush like a madwoman, but she enjoys it – despite the playful nagging she does afterwards

You're one of the only people who can make her blush, and when you really get her good she’s out of commission for a couple minutes, unable to piece together any witty comebacks in her love-dazed mind

Once she’s regained her bearings, though, she amps up her charm in retaliation, aware that her flirting is basically your kryptonite

And it works. Practically 100% of the time.

Her bold confidence gets you just as flustered as she had been, and you typically end up hiding your face in her neck or shoving her shoulder and running away.

Enjoys PDA in the form of cuddling and kissing. Nothing too wild, but she definitely wants it to happen when you go out together. She wants people to know that you’re hers, and vice versa

Hand holding is the usual go to, or linking your arms together. Kisses, too, depending on the mood and vibe of wherever you are

You jokingly touch her muscles and brag about how strong she is, especially when she gets back from a workout

She's fond of the praise, and though she wouldn’t admit it without a fight, it makes her work a little harder to keep up her physique. Staying fit is already important to her, but the fact that you enjoy her body so much is just added encouragement. She also likes to feel powerful and like she can protect you, so it’s truly a win-win

(Though she knows you’d love her no matter what she looked like, muscles or no muscles)

She puts her head in your lap a lot as a silent way of asking you to play with her hair. It relaxes her, and she usually falls asleep in the process

When she’s feeling clingy herself, you’re the first person she goes to. You’re the only one capable of melting this ice princess

Story Snippet

(I don’t know the actual layout of the mall, so excuse any errors)

Starfield Mall – Seoul, SK

Forever Yours.

Handong peered into a glass display case, rereading the words over and over to herself. Two ruby pendants hung side by side on a rack, magnetically joined together in the middle to spell out the words.

Only when they were connected did the short message come together.

A sentimental smile made its way to her face the longer she looked at it. It would be the perfect gift for you, she decided, as she snuck a glance at you from across the store. You were occupied in the ring section, browsing through the different rows of them. The wondrous expression on your face warmed her heart.

"Sir," she called to a nearby worker quietly, so as to avoid drawing your attention. "I'd like to buy these." She motioned down to them.

He nodded and grabbed the key for the case before making his way over.

Childish, bubbly laughter carried over to your ears as you exited the store and entered the mall’s spacious third floor, where numerous kids chased one another around. Beanies rested atop many of their heads, and the fuzzy sweaters they wore engulfed their tiny frames in such an endearing way that you couldn’t help but smile.

Holiday lights gleamed all around you, strung up and wound around decorative tinsel on the storefronts and windows. They shimmered, some set on timers to flicker every now and then.

A gentle smile played on Handong’s lips when she felt the careful tug you applied to the end of her sleeve, silently asking for her hand.

She wordlessly shifted her shopping bags into her other one in order to free it up for you to hold.

Her fingers interlaced with your own immediately, assuming their rightful position for the millionth time today. She gently stroked the back of your hand with her thumb, allowing it to make a few gentle passes over your smooth skin.

Something about the way your hands fit together, so snug and perfectly balanced, made her truly believe they were created just for one another. No one else's – not a single one of the other billions in existence out there – could've ever compared to yours.

She was sure of it.

“Where should we go now?” You asked, still letting your eyes wander across the expanse of holiday decorations.

The steps you took together were relaxed, void of any rushing.

Handong pondered for a moment, racking her mind for a place nearby that would award you some much-needed privacy and quiet.

"How about that place downtown we've been wanting to try?" She suggested. "You know, close to the square?"

“Oh," you gasped lightly, remembering the quaint little restaurant that she was referring to. "That'll be perfect, jagi."

"I'm glad you agree," she quipped, leaning over to press a kiss to your temple. Your smile deepened, and when she pulled away you watched her fondly.

What glimmers of love showed on her face were soon eclipsed by something else entirely, though.

Mischief, you realized, a mere second too late.

The apples of her cheeks became prominent as her lips tugged up into a pretty smile. The kind that’s soft enough to turn you to putty, yet striking enough to light a fire in your heart. Your kryptonite – a fact she used to her advantage.

"Race you to the car!" She shrieked, already speeding off.

You didn’t even have ample time to pick up your stumbling heart, or to catch your breath.

"Dongie–"

Her bags jostled in her hands, swaying with every thundering step she took. The tread of her shoes against the linoleum echoed out, broken by a squeak when she made a turn up ahead.

You pursued her at once, bobbing and weaving through numerous people – some bewildered, others cheering you on.

Her hair whipped around as she ran, flowing in the breeze with an elegance you would never understand.

"Last one there has to pay for dinner!" She teased, glancing over her shoulder at you.

"You're going down!" You fired back, finally gaining on her.

“In your dreams!”

—-

Harvest House - Bar & Grille

“Stop sulking,” you playfully chided from across the table, not even looking up from your menu. It wasn't necessary, after all.

You could practically feel her pouting.

Handong rolled her eyes and sighed, fighting the smile that tried to work its way onto her face at the fact that you knew her so well.

She picked up her own menu and began to peruse it, comforted in a strange way by the gentle clanking of silverware and dishes that flowed throughout the restaurant. Much like your own, clusters of conversation hummed – little pockets of stories and adventures, softly recounted so as to not disrupt the others around them.

Your eyes eventually wandered back to her, simply unable to stay away for too long. They peered at her curiously, watching with adoration as she concentrated on choosing the perfect meal.

She felt you staring, and yet she stubbornly refused to look at you. It was her way of continuing to pout, and you knew it all too well.

“Dongie…”

“Hmm?” She hummed, not budging.

“Jagi…”

“Yes?” Her brow raised, and her head tilted up slightly. Not enough for her gaze to meet your own, though.

“I love you.”

There it was. That phrase that she could never not react to.

Your heart warmed as you witnessed an embarrassed tint of blush appear on her face, and the achingly sweet way her features softened as your words sunk in.

“I love you, too,” she murmured, finally peering over the top of her menu at you.

You smiled and placed a finger at the top of it, carefully tipping it down towards the table so you could see her better.

Outside lights fought one another for the chance to shine on her through the large front window that the two of you were seated beside. Every color of the rainbow gleamed, emitted from star-shaped bulbs strung up across the square.

In your peripheral, you could see the town's recently-placed Christmas tree standing tall on the other side of the street. People were taking pictures in front of it; some were large families, complete with a teen or two angstily brooding as they squeezed into the frame, and others were paired up or alone.

You turned your head briefly, glancing at them.

Their interactions were so adorably human that it brought you comfort. The patient way they waited in line for their turn in front of the tree was endearing – reminiscent of childhood as they peered up at its lights, growing excited at the sight. Parents readjusted their children's beanies and mittens, ensuring that they were well protected from the cold.

It was like a movie playing out right in front of you, reminding you of the true magic of the season. That's what it's all about.

Handong must've noticed the dreamy expression on your face, because her next words took you by surprise, making you blush.

"You're so beautiful it hurts, Y/N."

Your eyes widened in time with the upturn of your lips, and you shyly dipped your head down, avoiding her gaze.

She reached out for your hand across the table, taking it into her own with ease.

"Can I kiss you?"

A question once asked with trembling lips, during the youth of your relationship, now spoken with a sweet confidence and nonchalance that made you fall for her all over again.

It was a redundant question at best, when you so clearly would permit her to do anything she pleased. But, even still, it sent butterflies to your stomach.

You nodded, leaning forward enough to meet her halfway. She did the same without missing a beat, and before you knew it her lips were on yours.

Both of her hands came up to cup your cheeks, and she felt you grin at the change.

She didn't understand why, in that moment, but she would soon.

Inconspicuously, you retrieved something from your pocket.

As you kissed her again, making it count in the name of keeping her distracted, she felt something being wrapped and fastened around her left wrist. It was small and thin, lightweight against her skin.

Her brows furrowed lightly.

You pulled back after a moment with a knowing, anticipatory look on your face. The way it lit your features up made Handong’s heart skip a beat.

Curious, she peered down to catch a glimpse of what it was.

Polaris. A sterling silver, beautiful little bracelet with Polaris shimmering in the center.

"Turn it over," you instructed, still grinning.

She did as you said and found a personalized message engraved into the material.

"Everlasting Love", it read, written in Chinese characters.

Her lips parted in shock. "When did you…"

"A few days ago, when you went out with Gahyeon. She offered to help keep you distracted so you wouldn't find out."

"Y/N…" she sighed blissfully, shaking her head in disbelief. "How do you keep getting even more perfect?"

You smiled again, rolling your eyes.

"Shush," you tutted. "I'm just glad you like it."

"Jagi, I don't like it. I love it. This means the world to me; especially coming from you. Thank you."

She leaned forward to kiss you again, but this time her lips pressed to your cheek instead. She felt the heat there, exposing your shyness at her praise.

So precious.

Her own gift for you was practically burning a hole in the pocket of her coat by now, and she decided at once that it was time for you to receive it.

As she sat back and reached towards where the material hung across the back of her chair, you simply watched her with sweet curiosity.

You weren't expecting anything in return for the present.

You were clueless to her plan, and yet, that made it all the more special.

As she retrieved the box and held it out between you, finally opening it, you gasped quietly. A small treasure, discovered at last.

Her side of it peeked from beneath the cover of her shirt, daring to shimmer.

She carefully took it out of the box and held it up, watching it catch the lights around you.

"Now we'll always have a piece of each other, no matter where we are," she mused, linking it with her side.

As it clicked into place, her eyes met your own.

Her “Giving” Love Languages Ranked:

1.) Gifts

2.) Physical Touch

3.) Quality Time

4.) Acts of Service

5.) Words of Affirmation

She spoils you every time the opportunity presents itself. CEO of Rich GF™ vibes. According to her, you deserve every single good thing that the world has to offer; so it’s really a no-brainer to her that you should be able to find something new wrapped up and waiting to be opened when you visit her. Anytime you mention needing or wanting something – even just offhandedly – she makes sure that it eventually ends up being yours.

◤─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────◥

Yoohyeon

She loves it. There’s absolutely no doubt about it

We see how she is during interviews (always holding onto the members in some way and wanting to be near one of them), and that trait is no different when it comes to you

She always wants to be connected in some way, whether that's holding hands, linking pinkies or arms when you're walking together, piggyback rides, back hugs, etc.

Honestly she’s just as affectionate as you

She hates being away from you. She lives for your touches and kisses

And just your presence in general, really. She’s totally whipped for you

Being held by you always comforts her

And anytime you kiss her forehead or cheek? *earth-shattering squeal*

Hides her face in the crook of your neck when she gets shy

Despite her tendency to get embarrassed, she never turns down PDA from you. She enjoys the sentiment behind you letting everyone know that she’s yours (as if they had any doubts, with the way she was practically tethered to you at all times)

She sneaks into your bed when she can’t sleep

If that’s not an option, she’ll call you on the phone to hear your voice (and she ends up falling asleep with you still on the other end like 99% of the time)

“No, baby, I’m still awake."

{...}

*snoring*

You're her partner in crime. The girls lowkey tease you for it and say you're joined at the hip

Whenever Sua ends up chasing her around she always runs to you, seeking safety in your arms. You take your duties as a human shield very serious

Sometimes you team up with her enemy, though, and the three of you end up fighting and wrestling like a bunch of five year olds. She acts betrayed, but once a truce is called she’s in your arms again in less than a second

Tours are honestly difficult for both of you, for a multitude of reasons. But in particular, Yoohyeon gets grumpy when she goes an extended amount of time without proper cuddling from you. The members offer themselves up to fill in and keep WWIII from breaking out, but she swears up and down that they simply can’t compare

So, anytime you’re reunited after time apart, expect to be tackled to the ground or go careening into the nearest piece of furniture as she clumsily flings herself at you

She loves lazy days with you. Laying around and just relaxing together is one of her favorite pastimes

She usually acts childish and whines whenever you pull away, even if it’s just to go to the restroom or something

Anytime she decides to start gaming, you wait on standby…

…and when she eventually loses a match, you're there to hug her and make it all better

She swears up and down that you're her good luck charm. So most of the time you end up sitting at her side and watching as she plays

You’re her number one fan

And she’s yours, always and forever

Story Snippet

DC Dorm – 11:49 PM

A brochure suddenly smacked against your face, opened to a glossy middle page as Yoohyeon's body collapsed onto yours in a heap.

She had run from her bed to the living room, unable to keep her recent discovery to herself.

"Can I help you?" You asked sarcastically, cradling your sore nose.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position and apologized for her clumsiness at once.

After you forgave her, she flipped back to the announcement she'd seen in the booklet.

It read:

"Thundering Heights Amusement Park – Grand Opening: July 7th"

An address was listed at the bottom of the page, and you realized it was just outside of the city. Maybe a twenty minute drive or so at most.

"Will you go with me?" She asked, hope shining in her dark eyes. They almost twinkled, like a kid's on Christmas. "It looks like so much fun."

You pretended to debate for a moment, enjoying the tease. She tugged at your shirt, pouting as you made her wait.

"Sure, jagi. I'd love to–”

She tackled you down onto the loveseat and peppered hundreds of kisses across your face, her hands cupping your cheeks to keep you in place for her onslaught.

"Thank…" kiss, "you," kiss kiss, "baby." Kiss kiss kiss.

You giggled and squirmed a little beneath her, taking the affection as it came.

—----

Opening Day

As usual, she was right.

The day was off to a great start by all accounts, and you were convinced you had never smiled as much in your entire life as you had that morning.

The sun was out, providing plenty of pretty views for you to admire together as you walked your way through the park. It livened up everything that it touched – made the trees’ green leaves a little more vibrant, the flowers a little brighter. The warmth of it wrapped around you like a hug, settling into the fibers of your clothes and staying put.

An occasional breeze blew in, mild yet so necessary as it balanced out that heat. It lifted the ends of Yoohyeon's hair, caressing them gently as she took in all of the sights around her. You walked beside her in tandem, simply admiring her. Admittedly, nothing else managed to capture your attention in the way that she did.

She caught you staring on more than one occasion and shyly scolded you each and every time, but you simply couldn’t help yourself. If there was one thing you’re sure of in life, it’s that she was created to be adored. Plain and simple.

Later

“Let’s go again!” She bellowed, jumping around on her sneaker-clad feet. Adrenaline coursed through her, making her jittery from residual excitement.

Much the opposite, you were bent over the nearest railing, just outside of the exit for the ride. Your stomach churned, deciding on whether or not it wanted to upturn itself.

“I can’t,” you groaned, holding your head. “I need something to drink first. And an hour long break.”

She tsked at you disappointedly, but appeared at your side a few seconds later nonetheless. Her hand rubbed the small of your back in soothing circles, easing you through your queasy-ness.

Once it subsided, you uprighted yourself and looked at her. Something behind you caught her eye, and when she met your gaze again a small smile tugged at her lips.

“I know just the thing to make you feel better.” She booped your nose lovingly, reaching down to grab your hand and tug you along for the millionth time today.

15 Minutes Later

A sunhat rested atop your head, its brim droopy to block out the now-harsh rays that the Sun had to offer. The strap beneath your chin was pulled tight to ensure it didn’t fall off or blow away. You felt like you looked ridiculous, but she had insisted that you wear it.

…so you did.

You held a mini handheld fan up in front of your face, listening to the quiet brrr of its motor as it worked hard to cool you down.

Yoohyeon stood in front of a slushy stand in the middle of the park’s food court, where she had just ordered and paid for your drinks. Two workers were inside, doing their best to keep things running smoothly.

After another minute or so, one of them handed the refreshments over to her, smiling kindly and thanking her once more. She reciprocated and left, quickly returning to your side.

“Here you go,” she chirped, handing over your favorite flavor. “They’re nice and cold.”

“Phew,” you sighed, relieved. “I was worried they might’ve gotten hot on the way over. You know, since they’re made of ice.”

She smacked your shoulder in retaliation to your sarcasm.

“Yah! Don’t act like I won’t eat yours, too.” She pointed a finger at you, jabbing you in the chest a couple times to solidify her point.

“Ouch, tough crowd,” you feigned hurt, putting a hand atop the impact zones and rubbing the ache away.

Though she fought hard, she couldn’t entirely conceal the grin on her face. So instead she busied her lips with her straw, drawing it between them to take a long sip.

You mirrored her actions, appreciating the fact that she knew and remembered your favorite order. It made you fall for her a little more, though you didn’t see how that was humanly possible.

Content and now more energized, the two of you fell in step again. Yoohyeon began to discuss the next section of rides for you to conquer, and what the quickest route to get there was. She babbled rapidly – far too fast for you to keep up – so you opted to just smile and nod, still sipping on your drink.

You both knew you’d follow her wherever she went and do whatever she asked of you regardlessly, and you were aware that her ranting kept her happy.

So you threw in the occasional “Oh, really?” and “No way!” to keep her going. It worked; eagerly, she continued.

The happy moment was soon cut short, however, as life suddenly took on a cinematic, almost slow-motion haze right before your very eyes.

Yoohyeon turned to look over at you, meaning to tell you that the trolley was your best bet at making it across the park in a timely manner, when you both rounded an ill-fated corner.

A welcome sign was propped in front of a shop's side door, directly in her path.

Before you had ample time to react and stop her, she ran into it, tripping and being sent through the air before subsequently landing on top of the now-toppled sign with a harsh clack. The puppy-ear headband she had on jolted, its two brightly colored springs bouncing in opposite directions after colliding with one another. Her cup fell from her hand, too, getting crushed in the process.

You winced, tensing up instinctively. Oh no. She'd surely die of embarrassment. You could see the beginning stages of it unfolding as she hid her face, already blushing profusely.

So, thinking on your feet, you knew you had to act fast to prevent her demise. If you could stand in the way of her arrival at an early grave, you planned to do it. One rule that you live by played in your head: you're in it together. Where she goes, you go.

Including the ground, apparently.

Without hesitation, you rocketed yourself forward, tripping yourself over your own foot and sending yourself crashing to the pavement that waited below.

The slushie in your hand exploded upon impact, erupting into a fruity blitz that shot off in a hundred different directions. Some got on you as well, immediately trying its hand at staining the fabric of your shirt. Your fan dinked off the ground, too, getting scuffed up as its motor came to a sputtering stop.

Your hat jostled, no longer sitting in its proper place.

"Oww!" You shouted, both a little over-dramatic and real. Though the cause itself may have been intentional, the fall definitely didn't get the memo. The front of your body ached, having absorbed the shock first and taken the brunt of the damage.

"Who puts a sign in a place like that?!" You lamented.

You rolled over, squinting as the blazing sun shined down on you. You squirmed a little, still suffering from having the wind knocked out of you.

Yoohyeon groaned and pushed herself up into a sitting position at your side. She peered over at you, concerned, but your antics told her that you would be okay. After all, if you had hurt yourself too badly you wouldn't have been able to yell like that.

But making such a spectacle of yourself had clearly worked, because the people passing by all looked at you, rather than her. Their attention was successfully drawn away, and you smiled. At least the pain wasn't for nothing.

"Are you alright, jagi?" You asked her, turning your head to gaze up at her.

She scooted forward and put a hand up, shielding your eyes from the Sun in lieu of your hat. The shadow she created held the light at bay, allowing you to stop squinting.

"My ego's dead, but other than that, yes."

“Good.” You said, relieved. “Wait– not good about the ego thing! I- You know what I mean.”

She chuckled at that, though the sound eventually morphed into a soft grunt of pain. Happy pain, though. The kind that you feel later on down the road and recall the memories of.

“And you?” She asked. “Is my knight in shining armor going to live?”

You nodded, winking at her. “I think I’ll pull through.”

“Good,” she reused your word. “Because if we’re gonna make it through the rest of the park today, we need to get a move on.” She glanced down at her watch quickly. “We should have enough time to get a replacement slushie…” she eyed both of your previous ones, where they laid nearby. With haste, she leaned over to grab their trashed containers, “...and then catch the trolley. But we’ve got to hurry.”

You sighed defeatedly as she sprang up and dusted herself off, like nothing had happened. It was a good quality to have, though, for someone as clumsy as her. She balanced herself out. Uncoordinated yet resilient. It was almost poetic.

What wasn’t poetic, though, was the unceremonious way she hauled you up to your feet, all in one motion.

You barely had a second to catch your breath, or wheeze, or curse into the afternoon air before she was pulling you along at the speed of light again, all of her embarrassment forgotten and instead replaced with excitement once more.

Her “Receiving” Love Languages Ranked:

1.) Physical Touch

2.) Words of Affirmation

3.) Quality Time

4.) Acts of Service

5.) Gifts

Yoohyeon is prone to embarrass herself, and her insecurities sometimes tend to show themselves as a result. She also has an unfortunate habit of overthinking; but a simple and easy way to remedy that at any given moment is through physical touch and sweet words of reassurance. They never fail to comfort her and restore that confidence that you love so much.

◤─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────◥

Dami

Dami isn't always the biggest fan of physical touch, but she makes an exception for you

She's grown quite fond of your ways of showing love

Especially because you respect her boundaries and don't overload her with it all of the time

The girls jokingly complain about the fact that your affection never gets rejected by her like theirs does sometimes

You're usually the one to initiate things, but she also surprises you sometimes by beating you to it

You l o v e when she does that because it just shows that she's willing to step outside of her comfort zone to convey her feelings for you

She usually gives you back hugs and puts her head on your shoulder

Slips in little touches throughout the day

Also loves to hold your hand

If it's chilly out and she notices your hands are cold, she'll slip one of her heating packs into them without you even having to ask

Piggy back rides

Lets you poke her cheeks and toy with them

She bought a pair of touch lamps for the both of you, so when she’s away and missing you she can touch hers and yours will light up. It’s a subtle reminder that she loves you and that you’re on her mind

Gives you her jacket when it’s cold out and holds the door for you

You've made her more comfortable with physicality, honestly, and she finds herself missing it when your schedules keep you away from each other

If you get overcome with emotion and give her a spontaneous kiss or cuddle, she ends up blushing every time, without fail

Sometimes she becomes the clingy one and wraps you up in her arms, not letting you go until she’s satisfied

“Let’s stay just like this, jagi.”

Soft hours

But any other time, when it’s you who’s being clingy, it’s really endearing to her to see you visibly waiting to touch her and attack her with a flurry of affection. You hold back long enough to get permission, but the second that she gives you the green light you’re basically pouncing on her

Whenever she reads, she invites you to snuggle up with her. She typically ends up absentmindedly toying with your hair, or stroking your arm, or pressing a few kisses to the top of your head, too

Just like her, her love is subtle and quiet most of the time. But it’s endless, and it’s always there

She loves you to the moon and back and is willing to do just about anything to see you smile

Story Snippet

DC Dorm – Dami's Room

Snowflakes fell outside in droves, heavy and thick as they added to the masses that had already accumulated on the ground over the past few hours. Biting winds blasted by occasionally, reminding everyone of just how frigid it was. They caused a branch to knock into the window of Dami’s room, scraping it lightly.

Ever since your arrival in the afternoon, it had been like this; as you spent time gathered with the girls and enjoying yourself by the fireplace, nature had been gearing up for a full-blown blizzard.

Aware of this, they all insisted that you spend the night at the dorm and just return home once the conditions were safer.

It didn't take much to convince you, truth be told. Their company was far too enjoyable to turn down, and you didn’t have any desire to head back to your empty apartment anytime soon, anyway.

So now, in the wake of a movie-marathon, multiple games of drunken charades, and escaping the tight clutch of a sleeping Sua, you stood in front of Dami's dresser, bent at the waist as you sifted through the drawer that she had directed you to.

Through the speakers of her phone, a soft piano melody ambled out, basking the room in a comfortable, easy-going ambience.

"Pick whichever one you want, baby," she called, glancing up briefly from her book as she flipped the page she had just finished. The texture of it – a little rough, unsmoothed – made a scratching sound as it rubbed against the one behind it.

"Really? Even the–"

"Yes, Y/N/N, even that one." She interrupted, amused. "I washed it yesterday because I figured you'd want to wear it." You could hear the grin in her words.

Eagerly, you continued searching through the hoodies until you finally found the one you were after. It held a title unlike any other. None of the rest even held a candle to it.

Why was it so special?

Because you bought it for her during a birthday trip last year, and it was the coziest thing in existence.

Oh, and it was also panda themed. Dami in hoodie form.

With a triumphant smile, you unfolded it and thrust it up into the air, showing it off. Dami watched from the bed, smiling softly to herself at the cute sight.

You slipped it over your head and pulled it down across your body, allowing the cozy material to engulf you. Two rounded ears sat atop the hood, and they bounced lightly when you tugged it up onto your head. The grin on your face deepened when you reached up to feel their fluffiness.

“You’re so cute,” she mused, far too interested in you to pay attention to her book anymore. Her finger rested between its pages, keeping her place marked as she openly admired you.

“Yah,” you scolded softly, lacking malice. You could feel your cheeks and ears warming up as a result of her compliment, and it made you shy.

“Thank you,” you added quietly, glancing away.

She bit her lip and shook her head, completely enamored. How could a person be so adorable?

“Come here,” she commanded, when she noticed you playing with the ends of the sleeves mindlessly. The inconspicuous (yet totally obvious) way you peeked back at her let her know that you wanted to be closer.

Hope shined in your eyes as you padded over like a puppy, and when she tossed her book to the end of the bed and filled her hands with you instead, you nearly swooned. She tugged you in by the waist, sending you sideways onto the bed.

A second later, she was hovering over top of you; her soft hair cascaded down around the two of you, blocking out the rest of the world like a privacy curtain. You met her dark eyes briefly, highlighted by the bits of lamplight that peeked through, shining on the two of you. But her gaze soon dropped lower, landing on your mouth – which she’d been dying to feel against her own all day.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” she admitted, before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. It was sweet and warm, just like her. “You made today so fun.”

“Yeah?” You grinned lazily, basking in the warmth that her body radiated. “I’d have to say that you made the day fun,” you opposed. “I mean, come on; when you saved us from losing that third round of charades with your last-second guess? That was gold.”

She nodded, pursing her lips as she recalled that victorious moment. “You do have a point there…”

“Or when you saved Jiu from getting whacked by a blindfolded Yoohyeon during our ‘What’s In The Box’ game? That deserved some kind of award.”

Her features pulled into a grimace at the memory. “I don’t know if she would’ve recovered, honestly. What do you think? Concussion? Short coma?”

Your hands trailed up to the back of her neck and gently settled there – fingers interlocking as you took a second to consider her question. She shivered slightly at the sensation, nearly tickled when you absentmindedly toyed with the baby hairs at her nape.

“Mmm, definitely a concussion,” you frowned, feigning seriousness until the sudden sound of Dami’s laughter cut through the quiet, bringing out your own.

She rested her forehead against yours as your combined giggles filled the air, completely and utterly happy. They were genuine and natural – a little sleepy, a little unpolished – and that warmed your heart.

Seeing her like that made you fall that much more in love. She shined brighter than moonlight, starlight, sunlight – all of it. You wanted to stay wrapped within the bounds of this perfect moment forever.

“I mean it, though,” she affirmed softly, like some kind of shy confession finally given voice to, once your laughter died down into quiet chuckles. "Things wouldn't have been the same without you here."

Yet another one of her ways of saying ‘I love you’ without actually uttering the words.

“I know,” you nodded, brushing the tip of your nose against hers a few times. You could feel her melt into you at the contact.

“I love you, too.”

Her “Giving” Love Languages Ranked:

1.) Acts of Service

2.) Quality Time

3.) Words of Affirmation

4.) Gifts

5.) Physical Touch

What she struggles to show physically, she makes up for in other ways. She’ll do favors, dote on you without you even having to ask, make you food if you’re hungry, leave encouraging post-it notes on your things if you’re in need of reassurance and support… the list is endless. It’s how she shows all of the love she has for you; she’s a fantastic listener and always pays close attention to you, and she thinks it’s easier and more convenient to demonstrate her love this way. The little things mean everything to her.

◤─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────◥

Gahyeon

Enjoys it a lot. Your presence alone is comforting to her, so she’s really happy to have you nearby

When you link your arm through hers and cuddle into her side, she falls a little more in love with you. She does it to you often, too

Whenever you kiss her in front of the girls, she tends to get shy. (Mainly because of their relentless teasing). But she never turns you down

She loves having your attention on her.

And she'll pout in order to get it

Like Sua, she tends to get a little loud and aggressive with her love

Will literally whine and cover her eyes when you walk into the room because she says you look too good for her to handle

She loves to sit on your lap (and have you sit on hers as well)

Puts her head on your shoulder a lot

Holds onto the end of your sleeve and tugs it when she wants your attention

She lets you play with her hair and style it however you want

One time you managed to make it defy gravity, and she still hasn't lived that down at the dorm. The girls said she looked like an alien

Whenever you’re just lounging around together and scrolling on your phones, you both still like to be connected in some way. So she’ll usually pull your legs across her lap, or even lay between them. (It makes it even easier for her to show you something interesting or funny that she stumbles across)

She knows she can get her way with you really easily because you’re a total pushover for her. All she has to do is pout or give you a kiss and you’re like putty in her hands

That’s one of her favorite traits about you. Both because she thinks it’s adorable, and also because she can exploit it (big brain Gahyeon)

“Pretty please? I promise to buy you more candy in the morning if you just let me have this last one now.”

{......}

"...or we can share it, if you'd rather."

You make her feel powerful and important, and that’s priceless to her

She loves when you get protective over her. There’s something about that side of you in particular that really does something to her

Whenever she’s busy or away on tour, expect lots of pictures and videos from her at odd hours. The time difference doesn’t stop her from messaging you when she can

Also, sleepy voice messages when she’s laying awake and having trouble sleeping

Whenever you reunite, she’s yelling and running into your waiting arms

Story Snippet

“Yah, how much longer are we going to be out here?” Gahyeon whined, her breath turning white in the chilly atmosphere that surrounded the eight of you. It floated away gently, catching her attention for a brief second as she lagged behind everyone else.

Exploring the city and shopping had gotten boring for her about two hours ago, and quite frankly she was over it at this point.

Heading the group with Jiu, you stopped and turned around to look at her. The brochure in your hands lowered, no longer your top priority.

“What’s wrong, Gah?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she scuffed the bottom of her shoe against the ground, twisting it into a rut that existed in the weathered cobblestone. Her hands flexed into fists at her sides, toying with the handles of the shopping bags that were nestled against her palms.

“I’m cold,” she finally said, voice small as a pout played on her lips. She looked away when everyone’s attention fell to her. Admittedly, she felt a little childish for making everyone stop. The weather was simply starting to get to her, and she was tired.

But being the maknae meant she had every right to be babied, after all, so she didn’t feel too guilty.

You rolled your eyes and smiled softly, shaking your head. “Jiu, will you take over? Let’s go to that restaurant I showed you earlier.”

“The historic one?” She asked, clarifying.

You nodded. “It used to be a royal building, so it’s pretty massive. And there’s a fireplace there fit to match, so…” you trailed off, glancing again at Gahyeon. Her pout deepened a little at you, exaggerating.

“Sounds great,” Jiu smiled warmly. “Let’s get going.”

The girls all resumed their walking after that, conversing with one another and taking in the surrounding sights of the city as Jiu flipped open to the brochure’s walking map and led the way. You let them pass you, waiting for Gahyeon to catch up.

Her nose was red, and the fuzzy muffs on her ears had fallen from their proper place. Her shoulders sagged dramatically, making her look truly spent.

You had to bite back a laugh.

“Here, baby,” you offered, reaching out to take the bags from her. She gave them without any further prompting, and you quickly slid them onto your arms, allowing them to rest in the crook of your elbow. You resituated her earmuffs next, and pressed a small kiss to the tip of her chilly nose.

“Better?”

Her head shook in protest, stumping you.

“Not yet.”

She stepped forward, just a breath away, and slipped her hands into the pockets of your hoodie. They balled in the material and tugged you closer, nearly making you stumble into her at the unexpected action.

“Let’s stay like this, just for a second. Let me warm up a bit,” she smiled mischievously, leaning in enough to brush her nose with yours. Her fingers wrapped around the warmers that were tucked away in your pockets, reveling in the soothing heat that they provided.

You reached in, too, covering her delicate hands so that the cold didn’t have a chance to touch them. She hummed happily, tilting her head to the side to press a thankful kiss to your lips. She giggled quietly against them, pleased to have gotten her way.

The night sky was bright above you, illuminated by the moon as it showered down its speckled starlight in a way that seemed intimate, like it was meant just for the two of you. Your own personal glimpse of the cosmos. It provided comfort, reminding you of home. Of all of those late nights in Korea, when you would sneak outside with Gahyeon for some fresh air, talking about any and everything your sleepy minds could come up with until the delirium set in and you had to amble your way back up to bed.

Even here and now, in a foreign country that seemed lightyears away from that place, shimmers of those moments could be found. They gleamed in Gahyeon’s sweet eyes – hundreds of potential experiences and conversations just waiting to happen. It was meaningful, to say the least, and you were beyond happy that fate had allowed you to be here with all of them.

You kissed her cheek before pulling away enough to look at her.

“I love you–”

Both of you laughed together at the coincidence, your shoulders lifting and falling lightly. The smile on her face was precious, reminiscent of a fox’s. You studied her for a moment, just taking her in and committing everything to memory.

“We should probably get going,” she said, still grinning, though she made no move to actually leave. Her gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a beat before raising to your own again. You felt the subtle way her fingers tightened against the warmers, attempting to be inconspicuous.

It was almost comical how bad she was at hiding her feelings for you.

“Yeah,” you agreed, settling closer, teasing her.

She looked around, peeking over your shoulder before craning her body left and right to make sure the coast was clear. Once she was satisfied, she pulled your hood over your head and leaned in, sealing her lips against yours.

Beneath the cover that your thick hood provided, she did as she pleased. Taking her time, savoring the rare chance she got to be alone with you like this. She was a mix of sensations – from her blushing, warm cheeks, to her chilly lips that slid against your own, never wanting to part. The entirety of the embrace was perfect; you couldn’t have asked for anything better.

“We really should get going, though,” you chuckled, resting your forehead against hers once you’d parted for air. “They’ve probably already made it there by now.”

“Fine,” she sighed, feigning annoyance again. “You’re right. But I’m taking this,” she declared, stealing one of your warmers.

She pulled away, turning to stand at your side so you could walk next to one another. “We can share this one,” she resolved, keeping her other hand in your other pocket, where it was still cradled in your own.

You sighed as well, mimicking her. “Fine.”

To smooth things over in the wake of her crime, she cuddled up against your side and laid her head on your shoulder as she pulled you along. The soft crunch of your shoes against the cobblestone street resounded, announcing your journey forward.

“Thank you, babe.” She said quietly, serious now. “For everything.”

“Anything for you,” you quipped with a small smile, watching as your sweet assurance turned white in the air and surrendered itself to the universe.

Her “Giving” Love Languages Ranked:

1.) Gifts

2.) Physical Touch

3.) Quality Time

4.) Words of Affirmation

5.) Acts of Service

She feels responsible and accomplished when she can spoil you and buy you the things that you want. There’s nothing quite like watching the smile grow on your face as you open up presents from her. She’s not afraid to go all out, either.

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carefulfears · 1 year

Text

if y'all don't mind me talking about those fish for the second night in a row...i just love all of the little details of characterization on this show so much and i think mulder's fish are a perfect example of this

(you can find my last post about them here)

mulder has fish as early as the first episode of season two, about which set decorator shirley inget said on the DVD extras, "so, we got him a fish tank, and it's kinda nice, 'cause he's got a little pet at home"

the fish are his pets! they're what he comes home to, and the tank is tucked in the corner of the one area of his apartment that he actually uses, that he's actually comfortable in, right in between the couch and his desk

it's why we're so familiar with it and see it so often

he's literally always sitting next to it

it’s always tended to, cared for, and decorated. filled with rocks and plants.

and, of course, his UFO aquarium accessory. which, you could say he saw at the pet store and bought, i would argue that it was a gift from someone

after mulder leaves in season nine, the tank and his fish can be seen in scully's apartment

throughout the show, we see scully, doggett, and van blundt feed the fish, with both scully and doggett pausing in mulder's apartment to feed them whenever they come over while he's away

mulder jokes about them when running off on an assignment in the pine bluff variant

and checks on them upon returning after his abduction, immediately noticing that one is gone

the thing about this to me is, that mulder is a natural caretaker. we see this kick in instantly with his mother, with scully, and with all of the victims and witnesses on the cases that he takes on.

above anything else, mulder is defined by being the big brother, and he's good at instinctually caring for others

however, one of the many contradictions and conflicts of his character, is that the flipside of that core defining characteristic is that he's the big brother who lost his baby sister. who, at least from his point of view, failed at caring for her and keeping her safe, and never allows himself another chance

he isolates, he will not let himself connect to or focus on anything other than work, he doesn't own a bed. he doesn't see his family, him and scully "just work together," he packs up and leaves town 48 hours after his baby is born. safer without him there, that oughta protect everyone.

isn't that the joke of fish? they're the pet for people who can't take care of something real, who aren't capable, who don't have the time. they're low-maintenance, they don't expect anything from you, they're the starter.

they're how you introduce a child to responsibility, to looking after something that's alive.

mulder could have something real, but just like he stays confined to that one corner of his meticulously decorated apartment, he stays confined to that entry level of connection and responsibility. he picks out rocks and plants and sets up aquarium bobbers and makes sure they're fed. the tank is always clean. when he comes back from the dead, he's missing one molly, and it's the first thing he notices and gravitates towards. they have a new home when he has to pack up and go.

he knows how, and he'll tend to whatever is in front of him, but he'll never have more than that.

#remember when monica told doggett that you're either a dog person or a cat person #mulder is a Fish Guy is what i'm saying #i'm kinda just being silly at this point #but i love those fish #and i love all of you thank you so much for the love on my last post #blowing u kisses #txf.txt

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usuibu · 8 months

Note

hiii i was wondering if i could request without a prompt from the prompt list? if so, can i request eren with an s/o where s/o and eren have just recently married and adopted a kitten, then one day said kitten keeps getting clingy with y/n just to find the reason why is bcs there's a little bun in the oven surprise and then y/n surprises eren with a testpack (and the kitten gets involved with the surprise somehow). really sorryyy if this was weird but I rarely see dad eren stories nowadays LMAO

Tysm for requesting!! Ofc u can put anything even just thoughts in my submissions, the prompt lists are just there if u need help thinking!

More oneshots/masterlist

————————————————————

People always tend to say that marriage was a big step, a big change. So you don’t know if its just because Eren’s Eren, but nothing really seemed to change with you and him after getting married.

You’d both already settled into your home and wrestled over which room decor you liked more and so things were nice, nice enough that you both decided you wanted to get a cat. It gave you the opportunity to see how far erens responsibility could stretch (which wasn’t too far from what you’ve seen😭) but anyways you guys had your kitten.

It always gravitated towards you, unfortunate for eren who refused to admit how much he truly liked the kitten. You would constantly catch him playing with the kitten way too rough for its size and you’d scold eren for not taking care of it properly etc how hes ‘a terrible father’ to the kitten 😭

Eren whistled rhythmically in a failing attempt to steal the kittens attention as it was once again, all over you. Disturbing whatever you were up to while eren tried to pick it up and place it nearer to him.. only for it to go crawling back to. He frowned like a pissed little kid and was about to verbalise his complaints until he got interrupted by you’re own complaints. Not about the kitten though.

“My head hurts so bad” you groan, hands flying to your temples, “do you feel sick?” eren replies, attention slowly leaving the kitten nestling in your lap.

“Yeah kind of, I think the breakfast you made me was that bad I’m gonna throw it up”

“Fuck you” Eren says, annoyed that he was ever concerned about your wellbeing (hes just kidding guys hes a silly billy this is a hee hee ha ha funny happy family i swear)

You snicker at Erens eye roll, “But really though I don’t know why I feel so nauseous”,

“Well maybe your allergic to the kitten?” Eren suggests in such a genuine tone that it was humorous.

“Eren,” you sigh, “you make it so hard not to bully you, you cant get mad at me” you’re disappointing sigh turns into another playful giggle as Eren starts frowning while you explain to him how cat allergies are more sneezing rather than nausea, and how you’ve had the kitten for long enough that you would most definitely not be allergic😭

“Yeah yeah fuck off the kitten doesn’t even like you” he says deflecting how he was wrong as it continues to roll around on your lap. “Take some medicine or whatever”, as always he still cares.

You open your cabinet in the toilet reaching for the painkillers, your hand stops as you notice the purple box next to it. You only had it really ‘just in case’ but in all fairness.. you were late. Your brain forced your hand to take the pregnancy test box because it would be harmless and would ease your worry and speculations.

Eren wasn’t home right now so it was safe enough for you to anxiously wait on your bed, staring at the test in the packet. Your glare getting interrupted as your alarm goes off alerting you that you can now check. It was positive, your second test was aswell, then the third one you rushed to buy at the store was also positive😭

This wasn't bad news at all, simply new.

You'd constantly joke about erens immaturity and lack of responsibility although you'd known him well enough to see that in the right moments, he truly is a highly capable man who would do great as a father, it grew on you as the minutes passed, the thought of starting a family with him didn't seem so bad even though you and eren weren't exactly aiming to get pregnant in the moment you did😭

You searched in your head for a way to break the news to him and you figured it would be fun to include the other member of the family, your kitten🤷‍♀️

"Im home" you hear ur husband shout as the front door shuts. "Hi Eren!!" you shout back, purposely in another room,

"can u feed the kitten really quick? I forgot to a while ago its probably hungry by now!"

"Wow and you call me a bad father" eren mutters, "I heard you." You reply blankly as he grins amused.

The kitten walks eagerly overtaking eren walking towards its little food station set aside by the kitchen counter. He notices one of the has evidently less full than the others so he decides to take that one to finish up in the kittens bowl.

You watch behind him eagerly but quietly lingering sheepishly around the counter, he tips the bag upside down as only a plain box falls out of it. "..what" he mumbles in confusion, he opens it to see the test inside but doesn't immediately react, nor move.

"Are you pregnant?!" he exclaims..

Facing the kitten and still not looking back to you, "Fuck off eren" you say smiling, yeah he heard you behind him.

He finally turns to you as you walk towards him, he has a fat grin on his face as he opens his arms rushing toward you before you can and hugs you so tight your feet lift off the floor and you feel like you're suffocating, you'll let it slide this time.

He finally settles you down in front of the counter, loosening his grip as he moves his hands to cradle your head, frantically planting kisses on your forehead to your cheeks to you nose to your lips. He can't contain his dashing grin and neither can you

"Can I name it?" Eren says with a boyish grin you know you cant trust,

"absolutely not" you say monotonously.

He frowns again, still tangling you in his arms against the counter as he runs one of his thumbs across your cheek, the other cradling your lower back keeping you close to him. "Why not?”

“Why not??? Because you tried to name our kitten Eren junior!"

"Eren juniors a great name, idk what you have against it!!"

"I hate you."

"Yeah yeah you love me, and i'll love our kid too."

"Yeah?" you say quietly, brushing a strand of loose hair behind his ear. Your hand glides downwards his shoulder as you simply admire your husband, your husband.

He stares into you deeply, slowly leaning in once again to kiss you. His hand moves from your face to the back of your head, encouraging you closer, deepening the kiss. Meanwhile your hands run through his hair. He gently pushes you forward into the counter as you both melt against each other, savouring the sensation of tooth-rotting love and adoration buzzing at your fingertips.

My requests r open for anything u can ask me any specific oneshots for eren or any character aswell!! Tysm for reading 🫶🫶

#attack on titan #eren jaeger #eren aot #eren x reader #headcanons #eren headcanons #eren x you #bf!eren #boyfriend!eren #eren x y/n #husband!eren #dad!eren #this is actually my first proper oneshot im terrified #i actually hate this please love me still #constructive criticism is encouraged #send help i cant do this #im really sorry anon i actually dont like pregnant!reader or dad!eren but I SWEAR i fr tried to pull through for you i still love you more #-more than anyone for requesting tumblr cut me off on that im offended

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live-laugh-lenney · 2 months

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Greetings!

So I was listening to “Glue Song” by Beabadoobee, and it just reminded me so much of Arthur! I’ve only ever see people say good things about him when they get a chance to meet him. You also just KNOW he’s someone you couldn’t forget upon meeting. I think a little short fic based off this song would be so cute!!

honestly, every single time this song plays (because it's one of my 'soft' playlists that have songs that belong in a playlist for a rainy weekend afternoon), all i think about is arthur now and i'm really honestly not mad about that... it belongs to him, without a doubt.

being christopher dixon's best friend had it's moments.

there would be many times where he would ask her to accompany him in filming a video for his latest video because he needed another pair of hands on set to stand behind a camera, or help set up for each sessions, or where he would have her running his errands for him because he was falling behind in his ever-so busy schedule of being a youtuber. there had been times when she'd dropped off some lunch for him because he didn't realise his shoot was going to take as long as it had done, buying him groceries because he always forgot to buy bread and milk, bringing umbrellas for the rainier weather so that he and his video guests weren't stricken with a cold every time, just in the background and being there as an involuntary personal assistant - that, quite honestly, she didn't mind.

but being christopher dixon's best friend did have its perks.

the list of opportunities that she had been given was forever growing and she couldn't be any more thankful that he had taken her along on his journey; she had travelled to different countries, been invited to so many exciting events, had the chance to work for different brands and companies and meeting his circle of friends had brought brand new memories and so many new friends into her life that she couldn't dream of being without now.

his roommates had always been here favourites.

george clarke had wit. he was funny and sarcastic, he broke the ice on their first meeting by trying to flirt with her but failing to even get out his pick-up line without cringing first, and he could joke with her over things that she couldn't really joke about with anyone else. but he had a soft spot that made him feel like a big brother, someone that she could always go to if she didn't feel comfortable telling chris.

arthur hill had talent as well as a sense of humour. once she found out that he was an upcoming singer and was releasing his own music into the world, she was hooked because she loved listening to any music that wasn't mainstream. and you bet that she attended every single one of his shows that she was able to attend. being that friend who was supportive in every single thing that he did.

arthur frederick had something about him that she just couldn't ever forget. he was no different to george and arthur and chris on how he acted - boys will be boys - except his personality was somewhat on a different level. he was much softer with her when they spoke one on one, he was interested in her and what her likes and dislikes and her hobbies were before he spoke for himself, he was sweeter and where they could joke, he was always weary about what he could joke with her about.

and she liked that.

she gravitated towards him.

there was just something about him that she wanted to be around, all the time, just because he felt so inviting and warm. and he was on her mind, almost all of the time when she was at home. she would think about what he was doing and whether he was working or sleeping or filming a new video. whether he was on alone or whether one of the boys was with him. whether he was a work with music in the background or a silent man who could only work in the silence with no distractions.

at a friends party, she always waved at him and slowly made her way towards him throughout the evening, saying hello to everyone so she didn't look like she was there for him and only him, making herself a lot more social to not seem rude. at any events that they would both attend, she would always linger around him - she still felt out of place at movie premieres and launch parties and he was just a sense of comfort and someone she knew the most - and he wouldn't mind it in the slightest. at video shoots for any of chris' or george's videos, he would be there by her side... even though she was most comfortable doing a set task that someone had given her for the duration of the filming... he just liked to be near her...

and, of course, chris picks up on them being a little closer than usual.

"i know it's not my place to, you know, comment on relationship stuff and all," and he brings it up at the worst time possible; she would have been fine having it privately, without the nosey ears of one of his three roommates in the room and the other two occupied with whatever they seemed to be doing with their day, "but, you two have become awfully close."

"can't we just be friends, christopher?"

"i mean, look at today. he made you a cup of tea as soon as you came in through the door. he never makes anyone a cup of tea," chris points at the mug in her hand and she shrugs playfully, "i'm not saying it's a bad thing. just-"

"tell your face that then."

"i actually think you're a good fit together. of all the people you could date, i'd say arthur was number one on my list," chris tells her and she rolls her eyes, "what?"

"i didn't realise i had a big brother," she teases him and he scoffs and his cheeks go pink for just a moment, "i appreciate you looking out for me and all but, i think i'm old enough to pick a man to date. me and arthur, we're just friends."

"just friends," he scoffs again, using his fingers to act as quotation marks, "you really aren't fooling anyone."

"you really aren't as slick as you think you're being," george perks up from the dining table, laptop open and notes filling a page on google docs, "might as well just kiss him and get something started."

"no one asked you, george," yn frowns at him and he holds his hands up in defence, "i don't even think he likes me in that way. heck, i don't even know if i like him that way. he's just-"

"he's a different breed," chris states in a matter-of-fact way, like it was obvious that he was something of a special character, "what won you over? the animal obsession? the chess head? how terrible he is at a game of football?"

yn rolls her eyes and sets her mug on the kitchen island and stands from the stool she was sat upon.

"i don't have to stay here and listen to this," she threatens and chris just sits back and smirks at her as she grabs her cardigan and her bag and manoeuvres to the front door of their flat and she takes one last look at him before realising the stupid look upon his face, "what now?"

"you're totally in love with him."

she flips him off with her middle finger and slides her feet into her shoes, reaching for the handle of the front door, "lovely as always to see you boys. i'm going. see you never again."

and she closes the door behind her and leaves the two boys grinning at each other, concealing her own smile as she trots down the hall and towards her own flat down the corridor, knowing she'd probably grace them with her appearance later on that evening - she just felt the need to be dramatic as she left.

"yn left?"

chris and george see arthur standing outside of his bedroom door, a look on his face that was full of disappointment yet almost with a look that seemed to be an attempt to hide the sadness. he'd clearly been asleep; his eyes were sleepy, his hair was a mess and he had a pair of shorts and a jumper that was creased from him being in the same position for at least most of the hour he had disappeared into his bedroom.

"yeah, chris was being a dick," george jokes and chris throws him two fingers as he stood from his stool and stretched out his back, "she left in a hurry."

"is she okay? what did you say?"

'i actually said nothing," chris lies and he shrugs his shoulders, "she just said she had to leave."

"hmm," arthur hums softly, scuffing into the kitchen and reaching for the cup she had left on the counter, "maybe i'll pop around and see if she's okay."

"yeah, she'd probably like that," chris smiles and as arthur occupies himself with washing up her mug and wiping the tea stains from the inside, chris looks over at george and they both roll their eyes - two lovesick puppies pining for each other but neither one knowing where to start, "she'd definitely like a familiar face."

if you read this far then i think i may have gotten a little carried away and actually forgotten what the prompt was all about... but i hope this is good... obviously wanted to do it justice because it's a song so fitting for arthur... let me know what you think and don't be afraid to send in some requests! i'm probably here all afternoon slash evening so come keep me company! xx

#arthurtv #arthur frederick #arthurtv imagines #arthur frederick imagines #arthurtv fics #arthur frederick fics #arthurtv headcannons #arthur frederick headcannons #chaos crew

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ateez-himari · 8 months

Text

Romantic Relationships

"Everyday and night I'm gon' chase you...I'm in love."

.......

ONEUS - Leedo (January 17, 2019 - January 31, 2021)

They met pre-debut when she accompanied Hongjoong to a single day song production seminar during which she recognized Leedo to be the latest member of RBW Boyz. Seeing as she was much too shy to approach him, the rapper made the first move and began talking about how he had watched the KQ Fellaz performance video and liked the energy behind her dancing, leading the two to talk for quite some time before Hongjoong dragged her back to the studio.

Since the two had exchanged numbers before their conversation was cut off, they began texting almost every day and quickly grew very close to the point where they took every opportunity possible to spend time together. Around a week after ONEUS had made their debut Leedo decided to confess to the her, a confession she was hesitant to respond to since she was worried about what would happen to them were they to get caught, but due to how strong her feelings for him had become she

accepted. The rapper took great care to not make a single mistake that would draw suspicion to them as to ease her worries which led to their only shipping instance being during the 412th episode of Weekly Idol where the two had gotten slightly too flirty. Since their fandoms had little interaction between them, the couple was able to constantly wear matching jewelry and Leedo was even able to lend her some clothes without people making the connection.

Unfortunately with ATEEZ quickly rising in popularity her schedule became much too hectic for them to keep seeing each other so they reluctantly agreed to break off their relationship and see what the future holds for them. Despite their separation there are no hard feelings between the two and they are still in contact to this day as they knew it was simply due to their line of work and not the other's loss of interest. For a long while they hoped that the other would reach out to mend their relationship back together yet neither made the first move as they did not want to burden the other with the weight of hiding their relationship.

.......

ATEEZ - Mingi (February 25, 2022 - Present Day)

The two were already relatively close to one another but they grew even more so after the rapper came back from his hiatus, though any romantic possibilities were pushed aside due to the fact that they had been nothing more than friends for around 4 years. One particular night however caution was thrown to the wind when Mingi came into the studio late to find her relentlessly working, his worries turning into their first kiss. At first neither dared to talk about what had happened let alone take part in any sort of skin-ship with each other yet the more time passed, the more unbearable the tension between them grew until one night after a drinking party with the members she ended up blurting her feelings out to him as he was bringing her to her bed. The next morning while the two were on a silent walk he finally brought the subject up, explaining her drunken confession and clarifying that he too felt the same way, that he couldn't stand being "just close friends" anymore.

When they officially entered a romantic relationship it seems as though there was more freedom in their skin-ship, though not enough for fans to notice, the rapper leaving his hand on her waist, their hands unconsciously gravitating towards each other or even a simple hug where his hands seemed much more comfortable on the curves of her body. A few slip ups failed to evade the fandom's eyes however such as their near kiss during one of their tour's concerts where the rapper seemingly forgot their relationship had to be hidden, Himari sitting between his legs whilst his hands rested on her thighs during a logbook and even the vocalist's lack of hesitation when she danced against him during the Waterbomb Festival. The borrowed clothes and matching jewelry within casual wear could not slip past their keen sight either, bringing more attention to their ship with most ruling it as the simple fact that they are very close friends like most group members.

#ateez 9th member #ateez au #ateez extra member #ateez female member #ateez imagines #kpop oc

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jarpadswalker · 8 months

Text

To the anon, you resorted to foul language just to question my choice and ask if I have seen any actor as multi talented as Jensen. Let me tell you this I am not going to post your ask as I don't want you to give you the satisfaction of sending a hate ask. I don't know why you think doing so was great in the first place.

As far as multi talented actors are concerned, well Darling, I come from India. No slight for any countries actor or actresses, I am sure each country got their gems. since Anon asked me if I know any, I would like to say I know plenty.

In Indian film industry, acting ain't enough you need to know how to dance and singing is added bonus. Each actor knows at least 4 languages, including English. Then there are those who got added talent such as painting, cooking, musicians, badminton player. So they are not only good-looking but they are awesome actors, dancers, singers and multi linguistics. Sorry to say Jensen is nowhere near to them. Jensen doesn't have people traveling from all over the world to wish him a happy birthday at home. He is not quick-witted or charming, nor can he dance and could barely sing.

Here are some of the Indian actors for you. I am sharing two of my absolute favorites

Shah Rukh Khan - aka King Khan

This guy's duality is dangerous - There is not a single character that he hasn't played. One of the few, if not only actors whose film trailers are played on Bhuj Khalifa. Most importantly, despite being world famous, he is extremely humble. No matter how busy/ tired he is, he will make sure that he takes time out for his fans. There are fans who stand outside film studios and his house hoping to have one glimpse at him, but he, if present at home or Studio, will make sure to greet his fans without fail.

This is outside his house-

Hrithik Roshan - aka Greek God of Dance

Great actor, can dance (under statement), sing, cook, and do stunts. Another humble actor who doesn't think twice before sharing his craft. His debut film created a mania across the country. He was the only qctor who bagged all the top awards in his debut film and immediately got catapulted to A-list. He loves his fans and encourages them to follow their dream. He has funded my young talents to pursue their interest. During Covid, he donated millions of dollars to help Daily- Wage artists. He distributed masks and emergency kits to front runners. And raised 3.19 million of Covid 19 relief fund.

There are many more actors tumblr doesn't have enough space for it. I just shared two of my absolute favorites. As you can see, I gravitate towards those who are extremely humble, respectful, and giving despite being famous. I hope Anon, you understood why I don't think Jensen is a super talented actor.

#anti jensen #anti hellers #anti aas #anti jared padalecki hate #hrithik roshan #shahrukh khan #Indian actors #multi talented

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