#Intern: He was practicing and then his back started hurting so he came over?

[jtl-fics]

I just saw the “Farmer Pain Scale” video again and have now imagined a sign that sits in Abby’s office.

I think Andrew asks for a copy of it for their professional team’s medical staff.

[florencemtrash]

Take it Off - Azriel x Reader

Summary: You and Azriel have been friends for centuries... but what happens when he wakes up one day to find that things have changed? And how will he react when you start wearing Cassian's clothes?

Warnings: Angst. Jealous Azriel. Suggestiveness and then some (I don't know what warning to put, but it's spicier than my usual stuff is all I'll say). Cassian is an absolute menace... good for him

Author's note: Did I write this to procrastinate editing SSIB Ch 22 after watching Bridgerton S3?... yes

Is this a fucking game to you?

Cassian grinned over the lip of his cup, raising his brow in a poorly disguised expression of confusion. He’d been playing the innocent fool all throughout breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Azriel was throwing his direction every time he made you laugh.

Internally, he and Nesta were both cackling. He threw his arm over the back of his meta’s chair, plucking the cream puff she held out for him, and tossing it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin. 

I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Azriel. Although it hurts me deeply to see you so upset.

Upset was an understatement. Azriel was holding onto his glass of orange juice so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips. 

You elbowed Azriel in the ribs, brows furrowed as you pointed your slice of toast towards his hand. “Are you ok?” You whispered low and just for his ears. 

The molten anger in his eyes melted away, hazel eyes softening as he took in your concerned expression. You were the first and only one of his family members to watch him so intensely. You could unravel the meaning in every twitch of his jaw, every rhythmic tap of his fingers against his thigh, every flicker of his shadows. You knew when he was upset, when he was happy, and when he wanted to laugh but had trouble expressing it. The only thing you weren’t aware of when it came to Azriel was how unbelievably in love with you he was. 

But that was his own fault. 

You’d watched him fawn over Mor for centuries, watched as he practically crawled on hand and knees for any kernel of affection she was willing to throw his way. Then, when you thought he’d finally gotten over his feelings for her, he’d chased after Elain’s heels like a dog in heat. You didn’t even want to begin thinking about Gwyn and the way she’d trampled over his hopes with the simple phrase, “I love you as a friend, Azriel. Nothing more.” 

No. It was entirely his fault that you’d learned to bury your own feelings for him so deep they’d become background noise — as inconsequential and ever present as the sound of your own breathing. 

Still… you couldn’t help but notice the secrets swimming in his eyes, the hurt and longing there that you could only guess the origin of. Who’d hurt him this time? You wondered. 

“I’m fine.” Azriel whispered, his hands ghosting over your thighs before deciding against touching you there. 

You hummed, clearly unconvinced. You held your toast in between your teeth, tasting the raspberry jam explode on your tongue as you reached over and carefully peeled Azriel’s fingers off his injured glass. 

His heart stuttered at the sight of your lips as they closed around your thumb, licking away crumbs and jam from your fingertips. But then his gaze dropped to your chest and his stomach soured. 

As Madja’s apprentice, you’d acquired a special interest in botany — an interest that had all but shoved you into Feyre’s studio so you could learn the skills necessary to depict all manner of flora and fauna in your field journal. When you’d complained about finding paint and charcoal stains over your clothes, Cassian had jumped on the opportunity to give you his old shirts to use as painting smocks. He had to congratulate himself for the stroke of genius. After all, he and Nesta had been discussing plans on how to get Azriel to admit his feelings for months now. 

Azriel did not respond well to outright suggestions or bullying. If he told Azriel to pull his head out of his ass and ask you on a proper date, the Shadowsinger would only hunker down on his preconceptions that he was unloveable, and that you were far too good for him. If he revealed to Azriel that you’d secretly loved him for decades that would only make him feel even more embarrassment and shame. 

No.

  Jealousy worked far better when it came to Azriel.

You looked comfortable and happy in Cassian’s clothes — a fact that escaped no one’s notice. You had the sleeves rolled up past your elbows, the rows of buttons at your back haphazardly done without wings to accommodate. You’d worn that particular shirt a half dozen times now and replaced any scent of Cassian with your own. 

Still, you were wearing another male’s shirt… and it was starting to drive Azriel insane.

“I was going to get rid of these and thought you might like them for… painting.” Azriel shifted on his feet, holding out the neatly stacked pile of clothes for you. 

You were laying on your stomach in bed, colored pencils and textbooks splayed out around you, but quickly righted yourself and sifted through the piles he handed you.

You held one up for a better look. 

“Azriel, you were just wearing this last week.” It still smelled like him — the scent of the Illyrian mountains at night woven through the soft, cotton material. “I can’t take this. Or this. Or this!” 

“I have more just like them.” 

You huffed, fists balanced on your hips. 

Azriel was a simple male with ample space in his wardrobe. When he wasn’t in his Illyrian leathers he wore the same three outfits on rotation, all of them nearly identical. If there was anyone who shouldn’t be giving away clothes, it was Azriel. 

“I really appreciate it, Az, but I’m ok. I don’t need these. Cassian already gave me enough hand-me-downs to last two decades at least.” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped out. “Well I’m glad for that.” He was practically seething. You noticed, as you always did, but you couldn’t imagine that you were the cause of his frustrations. 

“Are you sure you’re alright, Az? You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.” 

“It’s nothing.”

“I doubt that.” 

There were various things on his mind, chief among them you. So he took hold of the olive branch you’d extended him and laid down beside you, talking about everything and nothing at all. But one thing he avoided talking about at all costs was how the gentle scraping of your nails through his hair as he rested his head in your lap made him want to lock the door and never come out. 

He wanted to bury his face beneath your sundress and then tear it to pieces. He wanted to dive under the covers and leave an assortment of marks on your skin. To hold you so close that you began to smell like one another. 

You lay down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder so he caught whiffs of your elderberry and lemon shampoo. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for.” 

Right… friends. He was starting to hate that word. 

“Yes… I know.” 

How long do you think he’ll last?

Nesta felt Cassian’s soft laugh blow over the back of her neck as they crouched just behind the door of Feyre's painting studio.

Azriel had been undeniably irritable the last two weeks, his patience fraying like a linen skirt with the hem torn off. Cassian was still sporting a bruise on his cheek from this morning’s sparring session after one of his teasing remarks had hit a little too close to home. 

Not much longer. Look at him, Nes. He’s practically vibrating.

Nesta slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter. 

Azriel was restless, his wings kept opening and closing with agitation and the curve of his ears had long since turned a bright shade of pink. He’d had his shadows knock over a cup of ink earlier, sending its contents splattering over your shirt and staining the fabric beyond repair. But you’d only shrugged and said, “It’s my painting shirt. It’s meant to get dirty,” before going back to your canvas with a soft smile. The moment you’d turned your back to him, he’d silently cursed the ceiling. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He kicked himself, too focused on your continuing conversation to think that his meddling brother and sister-in-law might be watching. 

He hadn’t expected his emotions to take over so quickly, least of all with you. You’d been his best friend for over two hundred years. You were a staple in his life, more familiar to him than the childhood blanket he still had tucked away in his drawer. There was no reason why he should suddenly wake up one day and realize with a shock of surprise that he loved you and couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t have you in it. 

It had been such a silly moment as well. You’d been getting ready for Starfall, your hair done up and a flush of color spread over your cheeks and lips. He’d come to check in on you and lost his breath when he saw you sitting at the vanity, holding up earrings to your neck to see if they matched the satin of your deep blue gown. And then you’d politely asked him to lace up your dress and he’d nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise, forcing his hands to stop shaking as they brushed against your spine. Gods he’d wanted to throw himself off a balcony that night, if only because you’d be the one tasked with healing him. 

He wanted to throw himself off the balcony now. Let the ground swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in front of you… again. 

I give it another week. Nesta declared.

Cassian smirked. I know my brother. He won’t last another three days.

In the end they were both wrong. 

It only took two days for Azriel to finally snap.

“Take it off.” 

You swiveled around in your chair, tongue pressing against your cheek as you wondered what gave Azriel the audacity to march into your private lesson with Feyre and make such an out-of-character demand. 

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows. 

Azriel stood as still as an obsidian statue in the doorway. His wings loomed over his shoulders, talons reaching towards the ceiling tense and twitching. 

“Take. It. Off,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He clutched a neatly folded shirt in his hands, knuckles pale and bloodless from the tight grip. You’d been wearing Cassian’s clothes almost every day this past week and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand sitting beside you at the dinner table or in the library, the laughter in his throat dying when he caught Cassian’s scent drifting off your skin. 

It was maddening the way you didn’t think anything of it. 

Yes, Cassian was practically a brother to you, and yes, he was a mated male but… fuck it bothered Azriel so much to think of anyone else laying claim to you. To think that one day you might actually walk around wearing another male’s clothes because you loved them. To think that that male wouldn’t be him. 

He’d tried to bring up the topic with you in his own round-about way, but you’d shrugged off all his suggestions of wearing something — anything — else. 

“If you want painting clothes, why don’t we go shopping this afternoon? I’m sure Feyre has recommendations. Or we could just walk around the Rainbow until something catches your eye.” 

“I’m not a full time artist, and it seems silly to spend money on clothes you intend to ruin.” 

“Why don’t you ask Feyre or Mor for hand-me-downs then? They’ll fit you better and the sleeves won’t drag so much.” 

“I like it when my clothes are loose.” 

Feyre glanced between the two of you, namely the flare of Azriel’s nostrils and the way he ground his teeth so intently you worried he’d crack a tooth. 

“I’m… going to leave now.”

“Wait—Feyre!” 

The High Lady kissed your cheek, a knowing look in her eyes, before scurrying out the door. 

Don’t scowl so much, Az, you’re making her nervous. She chirped to the Shadowsinger before slipping down the hallway and disappearing. 

She made it all of ten feet down the hall before crowing, “It’s happening!” to the others. 

It’s happening?! Mor leapt out from her bedroom, a robe hastily tied around her waist and soap suds clinging to her hair. “Fey—” she hissed.

Feyre pressed a finger up to her lips, cutting her off. They’re in the art studio now. 

I fucking KNEW IT! Mor squealed in delight, stomping her feet soundlessly into the floorboards as she allowed Feyre to grab her wrist and drag her forward. 

I won the bet, Nes.

You didn’t win, we both lost!

Semantics. 

Why you bas—

Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta streamed into the foyer. There was an air vent here that led directly to the art studio two floors above them and painted over so expertly it may as well have been part of the molding. The sounds traveling through it were muffled by echos and distance, but nothing that fae hearing and magic couldn’t overcome. 

“That’s it!” The chair you’d been sitting in skittered back with a squeak. “What is your problem, Azriel? You’ve been agitated for weeks now. You won’t tell me, or any of the others, what’s wrong and every time Cassian so much as glances in your direction you look like you want to tear his throat out!” 

Azriel said nothing as you stomped forward and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Whiskey eyes flickered down to your hand — the hand you currently had closed around his wrist — and he shuddered. 

You didn’t even want to begin to unpack the hidden meaning of that response as you brought him to the center of the room and let go. 

He dropped the shirt on the nearby desk, hands lowering to the hem of your painting smock with a grimace. 

“I need you to take this off.” He repeated with a frown.

“What kind of person marches into a room and demands that their friend take off their shirt?” 

He flinched at that word — friend.

“Az!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his anger. “What is going on with you?!” 

“It’s nothing.” He growled out, but he tugged at the hem like its very existence was a personal offense.

“Clearly it’s not nothing.”

“Can you just take off your shirt and put this one on?”

You shoved him away. It wasn’t even like he was asking you to get naked, you both knew you were wearing something beneath this, but it was the way he was asking that grated on your nerves — like what he was requesting was perfectly normal and you were the ridiculous one for not listening.

“No.” You folded your arms over your chest with a huff. You were just being stubborn now, but you didn’t care. 

His eyes turned tortured and he clasped his hands together in front of you. “Please?” He begged.

“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting this way!” 

“I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re standing there smelling like another male!”

That was… not what you were expecting.

You gaped at him, unsure whether to howl with laughter, or slap him across the face. 

“That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I’m wearing Cassian’s clothes?” You gagged at the mere thought of what Azriel was insinuating. 

“Well that was a little hurtful.” Cassian mumbled. 

Mor slapped the back of his head. “Shhhhh. I’m trying to listen.”

Azriel shifted on his feet, color beginning to spread high on his cheekbones. “It’s not about Cassian… not really…”

You tapped your foot on the ground, waiting for him to continue. Azriel felt naked. Stripped back like one of your insect specimens lit up beneath a microscope. Your eyes raked over his every movement. Even his shadows, usually so attention-seeking, cowered behind their master’s back whispering to one another about how Azriel might dig himself out of his own grave. 

“Well?” You snapped. 

Azriel shrank back, “I… I like you, Y/n.” 

You rolled your eyes, “I know, that’s why we’re friends. I like you too.”

“No. Not… not like that.” Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh I’m fucking this up so badly it’s not even funny anymore.” 

“I don’t even know what it is you’re fucking up. I—”

“I love you, ok?” He said in a burst of energy.  “I love you and not in the way that friends are meant to love one another and Cassian’s an idiot and I’m a jealous bastard and I… I…” 

You stared back dumbly. “You can’t mean that.” 

Azriel’s face fell. “And why not?”

“Because I have been here for decades, centuries,” you jabbed his chest with a finger, “And you never once looked at me that way. Never once considered me as anything more than a friend. You’re upset because I’ve been wearing Cassian’s clothes the last few weeks? Well guess what, Az, I’ve watched you walk in and out of those doors for years with your poorly concealed hickies and that lovesick look on your face, and I never made it your problem or anyone else’s.” 

“Well I want you to!” He shouted. It was the first and only time you could remember him raising his voice. “I want you to make it my problem, Y/n. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want you to shout at me for all the stupid decisions I’ve made because I’m yours. I’m yours to shout at. I’m yours to get angry with. I’m yours to love if you’ll still have me and…” Azriel gasped for breath, chest heaving as he came face to face with the fact that he’d just said those words out loud. Those words that he’d kept close to his chest with the rest of his secrets. Those words that proved just how completely at your mercy he was. 

Please say you’ll still have me. His eyes begged. 

When you didn’t move or say anything, he felt a piece of his heart wither away. He lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in a speckle of red paint that had smeared under his boot, “Forgive me. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… I shouldn’t have—” 

“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” You muttered breathlessly. 

Then you flung yourself into his arms and crashed your lips into his. 

Kissing Azriel was better than you could have ever imagined. The fantasies you’d constructed late in the night when you were lonely blew apart like paper houses, crumbling in the face of reality. His mouth fumbled for purchase against your lips before slotting into place with a strangled moan. He lifted you in the air and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, tightening them until you could feel him harden between your legs. 

His tongue flitted over your lips tasting like oranges and magic. 

But his hands. 

His hands. 

You couldn’t get enough of them as they slid up and down your back, squeezing and pressing into your skin until he’d memorized the curve of your spine. You wove your fingers in his hair, tilting his head so you could stare into his hazel eyes before diving in for another taste. 

He walked you back to the desk, shadows flinging the tins of charcoal and pastel pencils off the furniture so you could perch there instead. Then he surged forward, pressing his hips into the space between your legs so he could feel the heat that gathered there. It sent shivers down his spine.

This… this was everything he’d ever wanted. You were everything he’d ever wanted. Not some unapproachable female he admired from afar but hardly knew, but someone who’d seen every inch of his soul and never flinched. Someone who’d nestled into the hidden corners of his heart and grown there like a willow tree. 

You moved your hands over the wide expanse of his back, digging your nails in to feel every twitch of muscle, every shudder, as he latched onto the side of your neck and slid his tongue over the sensitive skin there. 

He smelled like mountain rain. Like fresh wind and petrichor and sea salt. 

You smelled like lemons and safety. Like maple leaves and lavender and… Cassian.

Because you were still wearing his gods-damned shirt. 

Azriel felt his blood boil, and an instinctual rage took over as he growled low in his throat, bunched the fabric of Cassian’s shirt in his hands, and tore it in two.

You pulled away from him at the sound of ripping fabric, but kept your grip on his solid shoulders as air blew across your skin.

Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips pink and raw as he leaned his forehead against yours in a daze. You continued to breathe each other’s air like you were drowning. He seemed just as in disbelief as you, if not more. 

“Azriel…” You whispered, chest heaving. 

He looked at you with half-lidded eyes full of heat. “... yes, Y/n?” He asked breathlessly.

“I think you ripped through my dress… and my bra as well…” 

“Oh…” He fingered the ruined fabric that fell loose around your shoulders and realized that your back was indeed on full display. The straps of your bra slipped down and the mangled buttons of your sundress clung to their loops by weak threads. “Oh…oh gods.” 

One hand flew up to your chest to keep the fabric in place while the other slapped over your mouth, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst forth. 

Azriel’s ears and cheeks turned brighter than the sun as he slowly lowered you down to your feet, fumbling over apologies like he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down your throat mere seconds ago. 

“I’m so sorry—” 

“Azriel, it’s ok.” 

“No, I was being an ass and now I’ve ruined your dress and—” 

“You can buy me more.”

Azriel’s shoulder dropped. “I can?” “You can.” 

He shook his head very seriously. “Yes, yes you’re right, I—” Azriel had always been the beautiful one — the one that drew eyes when he walked into a room. The one that had females and males falling out of their seats for a proper look at his elegant features. But right now he looked so helpless, so flustered and unsure of himself that you finally lost it. 

Champagne bubble laughs slipped out of your mouth, light and airy, and sent a shock of warmth through Azriel’s chest. It was infectious the way the skin stretched over your cheeks. The light in your eyes couldn’t be contained no matter how hard you tried. 

He couldn’t help himself. 

He started laughing too. 

What began as one of his reserved chuckles grew into uncontrollable peals of laughter that echoed throughout the studio and had you clutching onto the desk for support. 

Azriel doubled over, one hand holding the stitch in his side together as you howled. 

“Oh gods. I can’t—” You hiccuped. “I-I-I can’t breathe.” 

Soon you were both kneeling on the ground, clutching each other’s arms for some semblance of stability. You gasped for breath, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes. 

Azriel captured one of your hands, weaving his fingers through yours before bringing your wrist to his lips for a soft, reverent kiss. You thought you’d experienced enough emotions for today ranging from frustration to anger to a joy you couldn’t begin to put into words. But you were certain your heart could handle one more shift in the atmosphere. 

Wordlessly you tugged off Cassian’s shirt, dropping it to the side where shadows caught hold of the cursed fabric and quickly tossed it into the fireplace. The flames crackled with triumph, eating away at the shirt with a vengeance. 

“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” 

“We can agree to disagree.” Azriel murmured, his eyes growing dark and heavy. His gaze drifted down to the soft skin now exposed from your tattered dress, the thin straps clinging to your arms, the gentle swell of your breasts as you breathed heavily. 

His fingers danced over the straps in silent permission, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But you were open and wanting and desperate for his touch. You crawled into his lap and a faint nod was all he needed before the pale blue fabric of your dress fell down and bunched about your waist. The bra followed, and then you were sitting there naked from the waist up, feeling the heat grow between your bodies as Azriel looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 

“Am I dreaming, Y/n?” He whispered, rubbing circles into your hip bones. 

You smiled softly, “Have you dreamed of me before?”

“Yes. Many times.” He kissed your chest, slowly dragging his hands down your ribs as you shivered and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt buckle. “But we never got this far.” 

“Hmmmm, I think we could go a little further.” 

“NOT IN MY STUDIO!” Feyre’s voice echoed oddly through the room, sounding muffled and far away. 

Azriel’s wings flared out, hiding you from view as you yelped and pressed your chest against his. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment about being found in such a compromising position. But the door was closed! And so were the windows!

His shadows finally found the culprit in the air vent.

“Godsdamnit—HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING THE ENTIRE TIME?!” Azriel shouted. 

A moment passed before Feyre answered, “... No,” in a much softer tone. 

“We missed part of the beginning,” Cassian chimed in. 

Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as you were stunned into silence. He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded oddly similar to, “I swear I’m going to kill him one day.”

Azriel helped you to your feet and finally, you put on his shirt. 

“Are you happy now?” You teased, arms dropping to your sides. 

The corner of his lip twitched upwards. You looked… very good in his clothes with the sleeves rolled up and a sliver of your dress (now skirt) peeking out from beneath. 

He looked towards the vent, then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close so he could whisper, “I would be happier if I saw my shirt and that dress of yours on the floor of my bedroom.” 

His hand slid up your skirt, squeezing the back of your thighs in a way that had you stiffening. 

All at once he was second-guessing himself. Maybe he’d taken things too far. Maybe the lust-filled haze had cleared and you didn’t want him anymore. 

You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his wrist, gently guiding his fingers to your core. You let him know just how much you wanted this. 

A roar of blood sounded in the Shadowsinger’s ears. 

“I think that sounds like a very good plan.” You murmured in agreement and his eyes turned black as night.

He stole another long kiss before scooping you into his arms. 

“Az, where are we going?” You giggled into the curve of his throat as he flew down the hallway and stairs. “We just passed your bedroom.” 

“We’re not going to my bedroom.”

“Well we missed my bedroom too.” 

He didn’t respond.

Azriel skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, already well aware that his family had gathered at the bottom and were waiting to bombard him with questions. 

Azriel smirked at you, leaned down, and kissed your cheek. “When I take you to bed properly, it won’t be with our nosey family members in the house.” He ran his tongue across the line of your jaw all the way to your earlobe and whispered, “I want any noises you make to be for me, and me alone.” 

“You are certainly a man of poetry, Az.”

He smiled. “Only for you.” 

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the two love—” Shadows flew into his mouth, muffling his words. “HEH! Azz! Whazthf—”

“I’ll see you in a week.” He said to no one in particular, his shadows opening the door of the River House. 

“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her eyes zeroing in on the bright red mark blossoming on your neck. What the fuck? She mouthed at you, giving you two thumbs up as Azriel crossed the doorway with you in his arms.

“None of your business. I’ll see you in a week.” Then he looked down at you, eyes growing soft. “We’ll see you in a week,” he corrected himself. 

Your stomach bottomed out, heat flowing through your body as you heard him make such a declaration in front of... well everyone. You couldn't wait to see where he would take you and where he would take you.

"Ready?" Azriel asked, a sultry smile growing on his face.

"Ready."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the hollow of his throat as he took off into the air. 

[leaderwonim]

𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — nine: bitter

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors

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Heeseung graciously offered to buy you a dress for the gala, saying it was the least he could do since you agreed to accompany him in the first place.

He dropped it off at your house with flowers, a gesture you found yourself smiling too hard at that your cheeks practically hurt.

See you tonight, the small paper inside the flowers said, and you set it in a vase on your dinner table.

The dress he bought was a silky black dress, one that went all the way down to your feet. It was extravagant, and you almost dropped it when you looked at the price tag.

Six hundred fucking dollars.

The dress was shipped from New York in America, so you knew Heeseung wasn’t playing around when it came to Seojun’s gala.

By the time it hits 8pm, you could hear the familiar honk of Heeseung’s Mercedes. You finish your last touch up, pressing a sebum control powder on your face until your skin looked perfect in the mirror.

Then in a rush, you grab your heels, slipping into them and running out to Heeseung’s car.

He smiles when he sees you, leaning over to open the passenger side door.

“You look… pretty.” He says, eyes glancing up and down at your body.

“Thank you for the dress.” You say shyly, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by his stare.

“Seojun told me they already started but we’re really not missing out on anything.” He says reassuringly, adjusting his front rear mirror.

After he’s done, he reverses the car until he’s out your parking lot, speeding away into the night.

“Hee! Glad you made it man,” Seojun throws his arms around Heeseung’s shoulder, an annoying smirk plays on his face. “Aaaand Heeseung’s friend? You’re the one who did the physiology project with him right?”

You’re surprised he remembers you, so you only nod hesitantly.

“Well don’t be shy, tonight’s gonna be a blast.”

As soon as Seojun opens his gigantic doors, you’re greeted with all sorts of guests in expensive dresses and suits, some holding champagne glasses while others make themselves comfortable at the tiny tables Seojun has set all around his living room.

“Park Seojun, you never fail to impress me.” Heeseung says, patting the boy on the back. Seojun responds with a loud cackle, slapping Heeseung back jokingly.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Heeseung whispers in your ear. “I’m going to get us some drinks.”

You nod shyly, watching as Heeseung disappears into the kitchen which was on the other side of the house.

This was the perfect opportunity to sneak up Seojun’s stairs and go into his father’s study. Perhaps there—you could find proof of his manipulation.

You watch as everybody else in the gala is too engrossed in either the music or each other, quietly creeping up the stairs.

Seojun’s house had a long hallway, which felt cold and dark. Above each door was a name of which room belonged to who, and you could see the biggest room in the end of the hallway was Seojun’s father by the way it said PARK HYUNGWOOK’S STUDY.

It was big enough that two large tall wooden doors stood before it. You knew you had to open it quietly to not disrupt the rest of the guests—or even worse—Seojun himself.

You shuffle throughout the cabinets and drawers, trying to find whatever proof you could find yourself on. Your eyes widen when you see the receipts of the most recent transactions to Joseon Internationals, a company that often got into scandals for allegedly using their wealth to get top positions in politics.

Holy shit, Seojun’s dad donated half a million to Joseon Internationals in one week alone?

Your thoughts are quickly interrupted when you hear shuffling from outside the door. In a panic, you rush underneath the large desk, which was thankfully a dark brown color so it hid you perfectly in the dark.

“You showed up with her again?”

Wait a minute—you know that voice.

The doors to the study open, and you can briefly make out two shoes from a crack underneath the desk.

One of them was Heeseung’s shoes.

“I mean, what am I supposed to do here Hanni? You want me to wait around for you forever?”

The girl scoffs, arms crossed. “You’re real classy Heeseung. Does she know you bought the dress for me?”

You almost let out a gasp, knowing exactly what she was referring to.

The black silk dress Heeseung had supposedly bought for you.

“Why does it matter, Hanni? You make it clear every time that it’s not me you want, it’s Sunghoon. Then you get all mad when I’m with Y/N, and question why I’m bitter?”

Hanni scoffs again, foot tapping the floor impatiently. “Whatever, tell Seojun I am leaving.”

You could hear her quickly leave the room by the taps of her heels on the carpet floor of the study.

“Wait—at least let me drive you home.” Heeseung’s voice fades away as he follows her, and you swear your heart breaks all over once again.

You stand up, body still in shock of what you just heard in the room. You take a quick picture of the receipts in Seojun’s father’s study before leaving, tears already falling down your eyes.

“Whoa—Y/N?” The voice of Sunghoon only makes the tears come faster. “Are you okay?”

“Why do you care?” You mutter out, coming to wipe them. “Get out of my way, I’m going home.”

“Good point,” he says. “But I also know that a girl crying like you shouldn’t go home by herself. I’ll drive you.”

“Like I want to be in a car with you.” You mumble, silently grateful when Sunghoon bats the other way.

“You didn’t drink, did you?”

“What? No, of course not.” You quickly say, sniffling.

“Alright, let’s go then.”

Sunghoon helps you in the passenger seat of his car, and you could make out the figure of Danielle sleeping in the back.

“Don’t worry about Dani, I’m just driving her home too.” Sunghoon explains, grabbing a pillow from his trunk and putting Danielle’s head against it.

“I’ll drive you home first.” He says to you.

Although the light hum of the car in the quiet night should’ve comforted you, you only felt worse as the ride wore on.

Because no matter how much it seems like Heeseung actually wants you, his feeling for Hanni never ends, and it makes you end up feeling like shit over and over again.

Sunghoon pulls up to your parking lot, his eyes telling more than his mouth wants to say.

“Oh and Y/N,” he says quietly, clearing his throat.

You turn around, facing him completely.

“I know we may not be the best of friends,” he continues. “But if you need to talk about tonight, I’m here.”

You close the door, choosing not to say anything to Sunghoon.

You just needed to shower and get to bed. Maybe a good night sleep will make everything go away.

AUTHOR’s NOTE. it gets better soon.. i promise

taglist 1 (closed) @lilyuwon @soobeboobe @immelissaaa @coqhee @shuichi-sama @ssukiyakii @deobitifull @sunpov @anittamaxwynnn @minjaexvz @katarinamae @capri-cuntz @jooniesbears-blog @sakanelli-afc @lvlyjisung @cherlv @mnxnii @llvrhee @b0bbl3s @lwavander @txtlyn @heartheejake @realrintaro @wonyoungsvirus @hyuckies18 @thinkinboutbin @yoonjise @rikizm @cinnamon-won @samouryed @moon4moony @jakesfurry @yunjinhuhjennifer @viagumi @rikisly @rikisnotforsale @heart4hees @jjklvr9 @loviwon @rik1zzluv @skzenhalove @jaehoonii @j5yy @tnazips @taeyoonga @jakeyverse @urfavouriteanon @whos-viviann @luvrseung @haeeeeefer

[rizsu]

"suguru, shoko... it's been nice knowing you guys. i always loved you both. please, tell y/n i loved her too, yeah?"

it's a tense moment. after satoru received your social medias, he did some snooping around and found the harsh truth — or so he calls it. comparing himself to what he found did nothing but install a depressing, hallow sadness into his system.

"satoru, get the fuck down from that chair," shoko's having none of it. the moment she glimpsed group-chat's notification she practically teleported to satoru's. her heart dropped, palms got sweaty, throat dry at the thought of satoru ending his life. when she arrived, suguru was already there, weeping for his dear friend's life.

it must've been serious, right? it wasn't.

what came into her vision was a grown, silver-headed man standing on his desk chair. around his neck held one of his ties. now, this is where it got unserious. everything seemed true until shoko's eyes traveled to satoru's neck. his tie was wrapped around it with his very own hand holding the longer piece of the tie.

in short, he's fucking dramatic. suguru doesn't fall far, too. it must be hard on shoko for being the only one with a decent brain... kind of.

"shoko, how can you be so... so mean?! he's dying over there! your own friend!" suguru wipes his tears, furious at his other friend's own indifference to such a sight.

"don't," she begins, walking to satoru's position to kick him off the chair. "don't piss me off."

satoru's now on the floor; laying on his back, body straight, arms clasped on top his stomach. this must signal his final moments. it's peaceful in his mind.

"satoru, i swear to god. get the fuck off that floor." she nudges his body with the front of her shoes, eyes twitching at the foolishness.

it takes a mere minute before satoru's tired of ignoring the obnoxious foot harming his body. so he sits up, hanging his head low.

"i just can't, y'know? it hurts," his voice cracks, radiating sadness throughout the room. his words receive two varying responses.

from suguru: "it's okay, satoru. there are many other fishes in the sea."

from shoko: "this is why you mind your business sometimes."

at shoko's response, he sighs loudly, "it won't kill you to be nice, shoko ieiri."

she sits on his bed, placing a pillow on her lap, fixing her posture, and re-positioning her imaginary glasses. "well then, satoru. tell me what you felt, what you saw, and what you think. you can let it all out to doctor shoko."

suguru stifles a laugh, eyes switching between shoko's new persona and satoru's defeated expression.

"okay, doctor shoko. i felt horrible — no, nauseous. i went through her followings and saw that she follows other men. she knows other men. i'm sick to my stomach," his rant begins. it all started when he decided to go through your profile. this meant snooping through followers, followings, tagged photos, and even comments. you both are in — what the youngsters call it — a talking stage.

there are no labels within this relationship, nor are there any confirmed feelings but this? this betrayal? what do you mean he's not the first man on your profile? this is devilish. all went well until he saw one specific comment that said: "baby you're so sexy ily," to which you replied: "i love you more."

the fiend ( as he calls them ) had the profile photo of a man. when he did the internal math, the unbearable truth was found. he is not the only one you're talking to. he feels hurt.

suguru, too, shares his friend's pain. shoko, however, doesn't. why? it's because the commenter was in fact not a man. had satoru did deeper research, he'd have known that the profile photo is the famous singer the weeknd, and the profile belongs to one of your girls who's a diehard fan of him. well, who's shoko to tell the truth? she'll wait for satoru to come to a realization.

[dreamywriter143]

Scorching Heat

Paring: Neteyam x Y/n (Reader)

Status/Type: Oneshot

Summary: Y/n usually insures she is away from home for ‘training’ whenever her heat cycle starts. She hates feeling needy, and never wants to burden her mate, Neteyam. What will happen when Ewya decides to bring her heat early this time. How will Y/n react?

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI (Minors STAY AWAY!!), Public/Exhibition (Someone sees Y/n during her heat), Dirty talk, Breeding (mentioned once), Fingering (f-receiving), dumbification, tiny bit of possessiveness and Ao’nung being a pervert. All characters are AGED-UP (19-20’s years).

__________________________________________

“Neteyam” Y/n whines, nuzzling her face into the mat she slept upon, she clutches her lower abdomen in pain. It felt hot, way to hot for what it should have been.

Ever since Neteyam had left their shared Marui for a his regular morning hunt with his Jake and Lo’ak, Y/n has been in agony. Her stomach lurched with butterflies as a unfamiliar heat took over her entire being.

She was sweating profusely, her breaths coming out in pants as she curled up in a fetal position. She couldn’t seem to figure out what had lead to her feeling this…sick?

Was it the clams she shared with Tsireya last night? Was it the yovo fruit she ate immediately after? Did those two different type of food not complainant each other like she had thought it’s had?

Y/n lets out a groan, feeling her stomach flutter, her eyes squeezed shut as she didn’t bother wiping the sweat off her face, she even couldn’t think straight. Her thoughts were muddled together and all she would focus on was the biting heat between her legs.

“Y/n?” A tiny voice calls peeking into the Marui.

Y/n almost missed it, it sounded so distant to her. As if her head were to be submerged under water. She opens her eyes slowly, her vision blurry with tears. She tries to respond back but a another pained whine escapes her lips as she claws at her stomach.

Tsireya gasps, seeing her best friend in this state. She rushes to her side looking her over, her cool hand laying on top of Y/n’s forehead, as she hisses at the cool temperature.

“Y/n , can you hear me? You’re burning up!” She says alarmed again, feeling the heat radiate off her.

Assessing her sweaty skin and pants that racked her friends body she realizes this was severe. Y/n was shivering as if she were cold, but she was sweating from how hot she felt internally. Y/n groans in response unable to form words.

“Dear Eywa” Tsireya whispers realizing what this had to be.

It was her heat.

Tsireya counts the days mentally to the last time Y/N had excused herself for a couple days worth of ‘training’. The time Y/n would spend far away from the safety of the village to wait out her heat. Training was the excuse she used to hide herself away from everyone, even her mate during her heat cycles. It wasn’t an uncommon practice, many other Na’vi females who didn’t want to burden their mates did the same.

Y/n loved her independence. Spending her heats alone was something she had argued with Neteyam over plenty of times. She just didn’t see the appeal of sucking her mate dry for her cycles, every month. Neteyam only allowed it because he would do the same, going far and wide to wait out his ruts in fear of hurting Y/n.

Thus leading to Y/n meticulously tracking all of her heats, planning for her excursions to the T. Planning and prepping ahead of time so she wouldn’t have to rush anything as she slotted enough time alone, out in the wilderness.

But this heat, it came unexpectedly. According to Tsireya’s calculations, Y/n was one week early. Which has never happened before.

“I-I’ll call mother!” She says standing up. Y/n gasps, she didn’t need the Tsahik, she didn’t need her friend. She just wanted Neteyam, she needed her mate.

“Ne-t-” she whispers, her voice shaky. Tsireya pauses, her shoulders tense.

“But Y/n-”

“Neteyam!!!!” She hisses loudly, sounding like a struggled moan.

She didn’t have time to feel embarrassed. She felt a deep itch with him her, an itch she knew her mate could fix. Tsireya flushes red at her friends state nodding.

She quickly leaves Y/n’s Marui heading to her own. She had a device that Lo’ak had given both her and Y/n in case of emergencies. She intended on calling Neteyam using her device.

~~~~

Ao’nung, who was walking towards Y/n’s Marui to pull her out for a swim stops the moment a scent fills his nostrils. He feels his irises dilate as he deeply inhaled the scent greedily.

He realized the scent was too delicious to ignore, he had to find out where it was coming from. He needed a taste. Coincidentally the scent leads him to Y/n’s Marui. The very girl he was looking for.

He walks in, holding back the growl that threatens to break through. The scent was so thick in the marui it drove him insane.

“Y/-Y/n?” he croaks, clutching the tiny bit of sanity he had in him. He looks her over, his best friend who he loved so dearly. He saw how she was face first into her mat, her bottom in the air as her back arches. She whines loudly hearing a voice, a voice that made her believe it was her mate.

“Neteyam” she breaths out lowly. The burning sensation seemed to intensify with arousal as she realized Neteyam had arrived to help her with her heat. Gasping she slowly rubs herself whist humping into the mat, moans leaving her mouth shamelessly.

She was beyond herself, she had lost herself to her heat. All she wanted now was a release, and to be taken care of. Ao’nung covers his nose, effectively muffling his whines of excitement. The position itself along with her grinding seem to send her scent off in waves, each wave getting stronger and stronger.

He felt his own erection painfully press against his loincloth. He wouldn’t be surprised if he came right then and there watching his friend hump herself to a climax she couldn’t reach. His other free hand reaches down to grab his thick hard cock through his loincloth, squeezing his member in attempt to relief himself of the pain.

“It’s Ao’nung” he says, loudly, still palming his cock to her moans. Each time her voice reaches a high note, he felt himself get that much closer to his own climax. He groans at the sight.

Y/N pants wildly, a part of her wondering why her mate hadn’t mounted her yet. She was in the perfect position to be taken advantage of, she presented herself in such way so Neteyam could fuck her to oblivion. She gently reaches behind in her hunched state, tugging her already soaked loincloth to the side. Exposing her treasure to the cool, but humid air.

The sight of her soaked pussy sent Ao’nung for a loop. His eyes roll back, his breathing is laboured as all he can see is how wet she is. How ready her pussy is for a cock. He saw how it glistened, how it twitched around nothing. Ao’nung groans loudly, biting his lips to contain his growls.

“F-fuckkk-”

Hearing him say something she is again clouded. She couldn’t seem to grasp Ao’nungs desperate attempt to tell her he was not Neteyam. Feeling his limit come closer and closer Ao’nung finally uncovers his nose. He begins to walk deeper into the marui, towards Y/n when he hears yells in the distance.

His ears twitch at the sound of Neteyam’s voice, which seem to snap him out of his trance. Taking one last deep inhale of her scent, Ao’nung takes a careful step back to create some distance. He lets go of his cock just as Neteyam bursts in through the entrance.

His eyes immediately land on his mate, who was still face first into the mat, revealing her glistening folds between her legs. Her essence ran down her legs, adding more delicious aroma into the air. Neteyam feels her need, smells her need. He was able to smell it a good few feet from the marui. His pupils dilated, his nose inhaling deeply to memorize the scent.

Realizing he’s not alone he turns to Ao’nung, his glare deadly. He bares his fangs and hisses harshly. Neteyam takes a step forward, pure rage overcoming his body. Ao’nung looks down, his ears flattening against his head.

“Ao’nung. Out, NOW!!” he says sternly, his chest rumbling with a threatening growl.

He tried his best to stay composed, for his sake as well as his mate. He was also aware that his father and Lo’ak were close behind him when he had rushed home. He didn’t want to create a bigger scene.

Y/n on the other hand, let out an unintentional mewl at the rough sound of his voice, still not being able to figure out who stood by the entrance.

Her tears of frustration clouded her vision, but she was able to pick up Neteyam’s scent. Her mates scent, which only caused her to moan pathetically. Desperately trying to gain his attention.

Ao’nung didn’t need to be told twice, he quickly ducks out of the Marui, his hands covering his still prominent bulge. He would have to deal with that privately, as he marches towards his marui. As soon as he is out, Neteyam rushes to Y/n’s side.

Her scent alone drove him insane, he felt his inner self want to drill into her at that very moment as his eyes lingered over her sopping pussy. Waiting to be filled. She looked to be so wet that he could have easily mounted her right away if her wanted to. But the logical part of him took over, at least for now.

“Yawne, shhhh, shhhhh. Are you alright? Should I fetch you some water?” He whispers, couching down beside her.

He gently brushes the hair from her face which caused her body to jolt wildly upon contact. The entire time Y/n had been edging herself, the mere touch of Neteyam’s fingers on her body sent over over the edge as her body trembled under his touch.

“Fu- I’m-“ Y/n couldn’t finish her sentence as her whole body convulsed under her much needed orgasm. Neteyam’s eyes widen, admiring the way her pussy twitched and clenched with the delicious aftershocks of the orgasm. Neteyam pulls her into his arms cooing softly, he cups her face into his palm.

“Oh babygirl, do you want me to help you with your heat baby? It must feel so painful….”

After the initial orgasm, Y/n had a few moments of clarity, registering Neteyam’s face. She noticed how dilated his irises were, how his breaths hitched and how his fingers danced around her hips enticingly. As if waiting for her to give him permission.

“Neteyam” Y/n whispers, her eyes still watery from the many tears she had already shed.

“I never want to bother you with my heat-“ Neteyam visibly frowns “-which is why I disappear from time to time…..but now-“ Y/n starts feeling the itch deep within her flare up again. More intense than before.

“-It’s….so painful……I need you to fuck me.” Y/n gasps. Neteyam smirks, his free hand trailing down. His fingers working on untying the soaked, useless lioncloth and tossing it aside. Neteyam leans his face closer to her, relishing the look of pure lust clouding her eyes.

“Oh baby girl, I’ll fuck you alright. I’ll make you feel so good you won’t forget the shape of my cock deep in your pussy” Neteyam growls, his fangs grazing over her neck sending shivers down her spine. His fingers spread her swollen wet folds, growling at the feeling of her slickness.

“So wet baby, all for me?” He murmurs quietly, taking in her scent.

“Hmmm”

Y/n’s eyes roll back, feeling two digits enter her pussy gently. The sting and stretch of the two fingers caused her body to twitch out of pleasure. It felt so good, so right.

“You let Ao’nung see this. See the pussy that belongs to me” Neteyam growls, his fingers pumping out of her slowly, but forcefully. Y/n moans in response. She hadn’t known if Ao’nung was here, she also didn’t know what Neteyam was talking about. But she opted to agree with him, to ensure he didn’t stop his movements by any means.

“I’ll fuck you just right baby, I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll be filled with my cum. I want Ao’nung to watch as MY cum drips down your legs” Neteyam whispers, curling his fingers just right.

Y/n whimpers at the sensation.

“Then do it—“ she chokes out.

“-Breed me until I’m plump with your child” Y/n mumbles deliriously.

She tries catching her breath, her heart beating wildly at the thought. Neteyam smirks wide at her plea. Feeling whatever logical part of him shatter at her words, he allowed her heat to fully engulf all of his senses. He was ready to give it his all, no holding back. He was going to fuck her till she forgot her name, he’d make sure of that.

“Anything for my baby girl”

__________________________________________

Note: This is my first ever smut! I’ve always wanted to write smut but I’m worried I’ll be horrible at it! This was a request from my friend so please let me know how you guys think! Was it good? Bad? Should I continue writing smut? Let me know!!

Also while I’m working on my main series: Nga Yawne Lu Oer , I’ll also be doing Prompts, Incorrect Quotes and Oneshots in between. Let me know if you have an requests!

Ps: Pt.2 is OUT. Please check it out!!

[allforhee]

"𝐖𝐇𝐎'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐑?" (BLURB) | HAN JISUNG

୨୧ pairing — idol!han x stylist!fem!reader

୨୧ synopsis — being a hairdresser and stylist at jyp, you didn't expect to become han jisung's girlfriend. but with it, you now have yourself your personal wig to test out your hairstyles on. and han being your loving boyfriend, of course he won't say no. but when the members start noticing the different hairstyles at practices, they start to get suspicious.

୨୧ genre — fluff, strangers to lovers, forbidden romance

୨୧ warnings — secret relationship, stylist x idol, no mentions of y/n, hurt/comfort, han being a LITTLE insecure

୨୧ word count — 1678 words, not really proofread

୨୧ author’s note — first skz fic and new layout! this fic is dedicated to my favorite mootie; aika, aka @spiderhanzzz and to all my han girlies out there!!!!! i hope i did him justice hihi! inspired by brooklyn 99 6x06—where rosa shows up with a new hairstyle everyday of the investigation!!! this was so fun to write and i hope you all enjoy ;)

becoming han's girlfriend was something out of the ordinary.

you remember the days of interning for jyp's hairdressers and stylists, standing in the back and taking note of the different procedures that were done. you'd follow the main stylists around different shifts, from the female idols to the male idols.

you'd help by assisting the main stylists by giving them the scissors they needed, do a quick minimart run to buy some hairspray or hair ties that ran out, and maybe at some point bringing the used towels into the laundry.

as you followed around and practiced more, from an intern to a regularly paid hairdresser at jyp, you had progressed your skills in styling and cutting hair proudly.

you started doing your own shifts, starting off with groups like itzy and twice, before you decided to try out handling the boy groups.

fate had its own plans when you were assigned to style the hit group; stray kids.

meeting bangchan, known as chris, you'd learn to fall in love with styling them. but your heart would learn to fall in love with none other than their rapper and producer, han.

han would always start conversations with you while styling his hair, which you would happily reply to.

you knew falling in love with him was petty, when your only interactions were when you had to style his hair. yes, you may or may not have bumped into him once or twice in the hallways as you were on the way to style the next group, but a relationship? you were surprised yourself when he confessed he felt a spark between the two of you.

that's what started the courtship between the two of you. a spark. you knew it was forbidden. you knew it couldn't happen. what would the media say if it got out? "scandalous relationship between stray kids' HAN and random stylist!" oh you could see the headlines.

so when you started coming over to style han's hair more and more often, you had hoped that the other members wouldn't get suspicious of han's constant nagging of you being the one to style his hair.

to the point even you yourself would ask him if he could come over and let you try out a new hairstyle you've been learning. he'd asked you to be his girlfriend soon after. with it, you both had to learn to be more careful with the moves you took, as some of the dressing rooms had other stylists stationed to deal with other members. one wrong move and you'd be fired.

the first member to notice han's not-so discreet changes was none other than changbin. obviously they'd both practice together for shows to perfect their rapping technique, changbin begun to notice the different hairstyles.

to the point when han showed up with tiny little braids in his curly hair, was when he decided to ask.

"hannie-ya! your hair, that's interesting..." as he points at the little braids all over his hair.

han's surprised look signified something else, but his response just made it more suspicious; "oh- this? yeah, i'm trying out some things since my stylist came in late..."

"stylist? it's just practice? what would you need a stylist for?" changbin inquires, still curious.

"you know... curly hair is harder to manage!" he laughs, trying to brush off the topic.

changbin pats him on the back, knowing there was something more—but not wanting to interfere, "alright hannie, let's get to practice."

han let out a sigh, but even he knew he was slowly walking onto some thin ice. thankfully, changbin didn't tell the rest of the members of his suspicions.

but as time went on, the other members started picking up on his hair. his usual held back practice hair would turn into curls, braids, and even little space buns at one point.

by now, everyone knew of his constant changes of his hair. they knew each other well enough that they didn't need their hair styled if it was for a practice.

chan knew he had to confront him at some point, worried han was spending money on stylists he didn't need.

so during breaks in between practice chan approached him, a stern look on his face. "hannie, we need to talk about your finances."

han, obviously shocked at the question, responded with a quick "i'm an idol, what do you mean my finances?"

chan furrowed his brows, sighing. "han jisung, i'm serious. i don't want you running around the place spending useless money on stylists you don't need! if it was for fashion or clothing i would understand, but you have to understand that you don't need to go to a stylist everyday."

"i'm not spending useless money, hyung! so what i want my hair styled everyday?" han tried to defend.

"the thing is, you've been coming to practices late! you may not realize it and i may accept your tardiness once or twice, but it's getting too repetitive. what is it han? you have a secret girlfriend or something?!"

the entire practice room went quiet at chan's last statement. everyone else perked up and tried to focus on han's response. when han didn't respond and just hung his head low, everyone knew chan was right.

"hannie-ah, why didn't you tell us? we're your brothers." chan asked, trying to comfort him.

but before han could respond changbin cut with a "yah! i knew it! i knew you had a secret girlfriend! so who is she? is she a stylist or something?"

changbin's last sentence made him lower his head even further, lifting up the hood of his hoodie, only to hide his face in it.

"hyung? you have a girlfriend?" jeongin cluelessly asked.

seungmin gasps before he cuts in; "he does! wait, is it that one hair stylist you keep asking for every time we need to perform?"

all of them look to seungmin; "which hair stylist?" chan asked.

before han had a chance to respond, he pushed through the members crowding him as he ran out of the practice room. he opened his phone to find your contact pinned, and pressed call.

"jisungie? hello? what's wrong?" hearing your voice come out of his speaker made him calm down. your voice was like the light at the end of the tunnel.

"baby, i messed up. the members know." he confessed.

"know what?" you ask, confused. "about us?"

"yeah... i'm so scared they're going to find out, like what if they fire me... what if they fire you?" he questions to himself.

"sungie, stay where you are, okay? i'll find you. you need to calm down. what practice room are you at today?"

he sighs, "the usual, but i'm outside."

"i'm on my way." the line beeps as the call ends, as han grasps his phone hoping you'd come faster.

his eyes close as he tries to take deep breaths, hoping the awful scenarios he imagined would happen not come true. he then feels a soft hand on his shoulder, and as his eyes open, he engulfs the figure in a hug before he could even notice who it was.

"hannie? are you okay?" you ask him, hair clad in a claw clip after rushing from another appointment.

he stutters out a; "mianhae—mianhae—mianhae, i know you're mad at me, it's okay, i'll just have to live on the streets when they fire me and open a hair salon with you—"

he gasps as you cradle his tender face in your hands, shaking his head in disappointment. "what do you mean? han, now that your members know, we don't have to hide around anymore."

"i know that baby, but what would our label say? what if they find out?"

"that's not for your pretty head to worry about right now, for now we can enjoy the fact that you can be honest with your members. no more hiding around, no more late excuses to practices. come clean baby, it's okay." you comfort him.

han looks up at you, "you sure?" before you nod. he embraces you in another hug, before standing up and grabbing your hand, dragging you into the practice room.

everyone looks towards the doors that just opened, seungmin hurriedly standing up and cutting the silence with a; "hyung i'm so sorry i didn't mean to..."

that's when they see the two of you. han takes a deep breath before he starts speaking, as you clench his hand, signaling it's okay.

"guys... this is my hair stylist. my girlfriend." han confesses, looking into your eyes for assurance. everybody waves an annyeong to you, which you wave back. you were still in your stylist attire, an apron clad around your waist with different bits and bobs.

"so, she's your stylist? you gotta hook me up dude!" hyunjin teased him, which earned him a slap on the back from han. you laughed at the gesture, showing his protectiveness for you.

"she's my stylist, stay away!" he'd whine, hiding you behind him.

"so he's been getting his hair styled for free?!" felix asked you, which you nodded. "man we suck... we should all get stylist girlfriends."

"i have my cats... i think we're okay yongbok." minho chuckles as he puts his arm around him.

chan smiles at the interactions happening, seungmin and jeongin appalled by your presence, felix and minho arguing about whether or not they should follow han's footsteps into getting a stylist girlfriend, and changbin and hyunjin teasing han for getting someone like you.

you didn't mind the chaos, seeing chan smile at you signaling you've been welcomed into their little family.

looking at han's red face, trying to keep his composure, you quickly peck his cheek to make sure he's okay. he looked at you with a nervous smile, but you know everything's going to be fine. as long as he's by your side.

"yah! i knew it! oh ever since those little braids in your hair, i just knew it hannie-ah!" changbin laughs, han blushing at his words.

yeah. you've got han, and he's got you.

taglist; @riekiss @sesameoil721 @desistay @spiderhanzzz (crossed out = i can't tag you)

back to my masterlist?

© 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄, est. 2024 | do not plagiarize, modify, translate, or repost my works on any platforms.

[sanjisblackasswife]

Monster trio reacting to their dicks not being able to fit- ooh Chile 🥲

🙃😀

Monster Trio Reacting to You Being Too Tight (NSFW)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Safe Word Used, Mentions of Sex, Zoro is an Implied Virgin

Luffy

This is Luffy we are talking about he wouldn’t tell the difference unless you screamed it at him

And that you did.

“LUFFY BABY WAIT! RED! RED!”

His tip wasn’t even in completely in and it felt like he was stretching you for all you were worth.

“What?! What?!”

“You’re…You’re….”

“What you want me to stretch it?”

“NO! …the opposite actually.”

This was the first time you ever had to ask him of that and so a very smug and dopey smile crawled across his face while still being in between your legs.

“Ah…i’m too big for you today?” He sings right in your ear with a chuckle.

“Shut up Luffy are you ganna do it or n—-AH!”

He shrinks it just enough to where the painful stretch is gone, but now he has more leeway to pick up the pace in his thrusting.

“Like this!?” Luffy huffs, hands gripped the headboard, hips nearly turning into a blur pounding your cunt. “There you go !”

He did all this without pulling out once.

He’s so caring.

Zoro

You and Zoro didn’t think this would have been something you both would encounter. Nearly crying for him to stop and he was only 1/3 inside you.

Granted this is his first time.

He’s a big boy and so when you first seen his…4th sword you guided him on how to prep you nicely, stretch you out with his fingers, and everything. Zoro being an internal nervous wreck wanted to be extra cautious so the foreplay lastest well over an hour with him.

But even in that hour still couldn’t prepare him or you for how tight you were

“F-fuck! You’re so—! …Hey?”

You kept covering your face with your hands literally gnawing at your lip nearly making it bleed trying to ignore the sting and pain. Maybe it wasn’t a good day to have sex with him for the first time, because you just couldn’t understand why everything felt so painful right now.

“You should have told me, woman I never wanna keep going if this hurts!”

The last thing Zoro would ever want is to hurt you. He couldn’t care less about him needing to get off if you also wasn’t enjoying yourself.

You felt so much guilt when he slowly pulled out that you tried to insist to keep going, but he wouldn’t back down.

He ignored your cries and pouts to place a blanket over you both and cuddle as you were on top of his chest.

“Stop it dammit.” He hisses at you trying to sleep, feeling your body grind on his soft cock. You swore you could take it again, which started to annoy him because he didn’t mind not finishing.

“Can i at least….suck it…again as an apology.”

You’re so lucky he was hoping you’d offer that.

Sanji

Sanji became a quick learner of your body. He knows what to do to make your leg twitch, your back arch, even down to how you moan.

He never did any wrong when it came to giving you the upmost pleasure.

Today must have been an off day for him and you both because after 30 minutes of foreplay he felt like you were stretched out enough, but he was so so wrong.

“Sweet—ah-heart you okay? You’re tighter than usual.”

You wanted so badly to be a good girl and take it, so you nodd trying to refocus you attention on something else other than the sting, but the moment he bottoms out you practically scream in his ear.

You scared the man btw.

“OH FUCK! Y/N!? ARE YOU OKAY?!”

You felt so awkward letting out such a dramatic cry, but it just inflicted so much pain you almost shed a tear.

And you did actually.

Sanji was too afraid to move, still fully inside you he looks at your face to caress and pepper your face in soft kisses.

Sanji damn near cries too because the last thing he would ever want is for you to feel uncomfortable. You explain that you must have been a bit more tense than usual and Sanji being Sanji understands and talks you through it as he slowly pulls himself out.

“Here…Let me make it up to you.”

You wanted to try to explain to him it’s okay and yall can try again but it was too late.

Sanji’s tongue was already in between your slit before you could protest.

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 6)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Hello I’m posting from my phone as I’m currently travelling so the formatting may be messed up. Sorry! It literally took me forever to do this formatting on my phone so this is the best you’re getting. I wanted to update this week not to leave you all hanging for a while again so deal with it. Love you tho!

| SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 6, Next Chapter

The weekend came around quickly as it usually did when you had so much work, you didn't speak with Lupin about his Lycanthropy or about your friendship again since that day instead you actually ended up opting out of the evening meetings to spend time with your age appropriate friends and to attend the duelling club run by Sebastian. Maybe it was out of self preservation that you avoided Lupin as your feelings towards Lupin became more clouded with each day, it definitely wasn't a school girl crush on the new profesor it was deeper than that, the thought of his hand on your lap or him calling you dear made you want to blush.

You were with a small group of friends that the twins organised, and at one moment someone suggested drinking games and all of you quickly became a lot more drunk. About half way through your night you saw a few teachers come in, Lupin included, you smiled at him as others greeted him and the other teachers as the walked in and sat on the opposite side of the pub. Lupin would look over to your table every so often but you barely ever noticed as you weren't the sharpest on instinct when you got drunk. He noticed when you looked at him, a few of the other girls at your table were also looking at him but he was only looking back at you, you didn't know but all he could think about was how you started to ignore him after he took you to the lake, he believed he messed up with that conversation. You pretend to be okay with it because you're a good person but like everyone you're scared and you are allowed to be, but it hurt him to have you avoid him. "Look Professor Lupin is looking right at us." One of the pretty Ravenclaw girls whispered to the rest of the girls who were in the area. "Do you think he gets off on the attention from students? He wants us to look at him?" Another Slytherin girl replied. "I don't know but I hope so, I'd like to help him get off." The first girl replied. "I'm going for a cigarette, Fred, George , care to join?" You stood up and the twins followed, you made eye contact with Lupin and quickly flashed him your pack of cigarettes and motioned your head towards the door not thinking about who he was, in your mind you were just inviting a friend out for a smoke.

You needed to escape the  conversation inside, it made you uncomfortable how many girls wanted Lupin and it did seem like he was looking over and enjoying the attention. Lupin walked out and lit a cigarette of his own standing not too far away from you and the twins, just the sight of him and the alcoholic mixed made you feel like the temperature went up as soon as he was outside. "Profesor Lupin care to join us?" Fred said winking at you quickly.

"I don't want to interrupt." He replied gently.

"Interrupt?" Fred asked. "It's not interrupting if you've been invited." George added. Lupin walked over closer to you guys and joined in a mundane discussion about how schools should allow a certain level of pranks as a sign of magic practice. After about five minutes Fred and George quickly made a excuse to go back inside leaving you alone with Lupin, the alcohol still pulsing through your skin, it fell silent as you both just looked at each other. "Hey." You said "Hey." He replied softly taking a step closer. "You know I've never seen you drunk." He said softly. "You smell of fire whiskey." You replied to suggest he is also drunk. "Not as much as you dear." He replied that one word shooting through your body making your heart beat a bit faster you didn't know how to reply. "Y/N, have I offended or upset you?"

"No I have drank quite a bit I do understand that I smell like-"

"No, I meant the other day at the lake."

"What? How was that meant to upset me. That was one of the most beautiful things I've seen moon boy." You said immediately regretting the last word.

"I was worried my condition did in fact scare you."

"No I already knew,"

"You just seemed to avoid me after..."

"I don't care about your condition, I had plans I should have probably warned you, I wasn't avoiding you."

"I'm glad to hear that, I was worried... now let's go back to moon boy?"

"I know I regret it already I think moony would've been better, I was just trying to say something to make it seem like I don't care about you being you but now I realised it sounded horrible and you're my teacher so maybe calling you that is inappropriate." He laughed in reply.

"You really do smell of fire whiskey profesor." You said your internal monologue out loud.

"How about now." He took another step closer to you.

"I'm not sure maybe another half a step." You said even though the space between you was minimal. "Accio." He gently whispered and you were magically pulled towards him nearly crashing into his chest. "How about now?" You felt his breathe with every word he was so close to you. In this moment you forgot that he was your profesor your body was on fire you were turned on and aching to kiss him. He laughed when you didn't reply just looked at him in the eyes and he took a step back. "Cat got your tongue?" He asked leaning back on the wall behind him creating space as you stood frozen in the same place.

"I'm just drunk, can't think straight." You said sitting down on the floor.

"Do I need to get you back to your friends?" He asked kneeling down besides you and lightly stroking your head.

"No I'm enjoying myself right here." You replied and he stood up leaving you, confusion hit, did you upset him? He was the one flirting with you. He came back moments later with a glass of water. "Here you go." He handed you the water and you looked curiously at him. "Drink." He insisted. "Thank you profesor."

"How much did you drink dear?" He was standing above you, hands in his pockets while you looked up to him.

"Enough that I'm scared I'll say the wrong thing and reveal too much."

"About my condition to others?" he sat down besides you seeming more serious now.

"No... I can't say you're my teacher." You look down at your feet avoiding his eyes. "Tell me dear." He pressed.

"Don't use that word."

"What word?"

"You know what word."

"Why dear?"

"Because it feels like I'm on fire when you use it." You said instantly regretting it.

"Can I tell you a secret?” He leaned on closer to your ear and whispered “I know."He licked his lips as he watched you look back at him with a shocked expression. "It's time you go back to your friends." He continued as he stood up.

"But I want to stay and talk with you."

"I believe we've both already said too much." He held his hand out to you and helped you stand up. You didn't say anything else but rather allowed him to open the door for you and you walked in as he followed, you walked over to the table with your friends and he went over to his table no more words spoken. "So how was your flirting session with Lupin?" Fred whispered in your ear. "Shut it Weasley." You stated while looking up at Lupin who was too busy laughing along to someone's joke to notice you. "What did I miss?" You asked George. "Nothing it's getting a bit boring here I think we should go find some fun out of here" he replied. "I agree I am sick of listening to who has a crush on who at this table." Fred said grabbing his jacket and standing up. "A lot have been taking about their crushes on you," Fed said while leaning out a hand to help you stand up and then looping it with yours while waking out the pub. "Our dear old Percy has competition, apparently that Swallow Slytherin guy is talking about you." George filled you in on the gossip. "Yet we all know none of them have a chance don't we Y/N." He said with a wink and you nodded. "Your profesor watched us walk out, his eyes were glued to you." George added.

"Oh not you too." You said laughing I'm disbelief.

"Y/N don't deny it." Fred said.

"Where did this rumour come from between you two?" You asked as the three of you walked back towards the castle.

"Well you may not know dear old Lupin is a friend of our mums," Fred began. "Friend of Harry's parents and through that our mums so we know him a bit." George added.

"Now we know you quite well and this year is the first year you're gone every evening and you're actually going to lessons..." Fred explained.

"That doesn't mean I like Lupin." You protested.

"But blushing when you hear his name or staring at him whenever he's in the same area as you-" Fred continued.

"Okay maybe I have a school girl crush on him but what girl doesn't." You said and the guys looked at you as if to say that they know it's not a school girl crush. "let's keep this between us. And not telling poor Percy he'll be heartbroken." You warned them and they promised to keep your secret.

On Monday you received an OWL from Lupin cancelling your tutoring sessions for this week as he had "prior commitments". You looked over to him after receiving the OWL but he was busy in his own conversation and didn't even glance towards you. You usually saw him in the corridors during the day and would share a smile but today it seemed like he disappeared completely.

During his DADA lesson he made the class write a essay "once you are done please leave your parchment on my desk and you're free to leave." He said before sitting down and beginning to mark some other years work. You spent the lesson looking over towards him but he was starting down he almost looked uncomfortable. You couldn't concentrate on the work so you just sat there looking at him, how he was writing, how he breathed, how he moved and then he looked up making eye contact with you. Your body froze you felt like you had just been caught he looked straight back down before you could look away. His eyes had no feeling behind them it felt like a completely different person to the guy who used magic to bring you closer to him or said the word "dear" gently to light your body on fire. After you finished your work you took your paper to his desk he didn't even look up when you put it down but you knew he knew it was you. "Profesor may I have a word?" You asked him in a whisper.

"Miss L/N other students are still finishing their work is this urgent." He sounded and looked annoyed.

"No profesor I just wanted to know why you've cancelled my tutoring for this week." You felt like you've messed up, he no longer wanted anything to do with you.

"As I've already mentioned I have prior commitments." He replied not even looking up from his papers this time. You didn't press you just left the room and that was it. From that point onwards he no longer came to the bridge and you no longer went there either you checked the map every evening in case he decides to go but no, the next week the same repeated the cancelled your lessons and stayed far away from the bridge. If you knew this would happen you wouldn't have spoken to him at all at the three broomsticks. The way he looked at you or should I say didn't look at you during DADA was becoming too painful so you started skipping his lessons. You would see him in the great hall and he would never look back at you. It was horrible it made those two weeks feel like the longest two weeks at Hogwarts if your life.

You began occupying a lot of your time with the duelling club, Sebastian was quite friendly for a Slytherin and he taught you a lot. You were becoming quite fond of him and you could tell he had a crush on you. You began thinking more often that maybe Sebastian is the exact distraction you need to get over your school girl crush, you enjoyed the attention. He was missing the soul Lupin had, Lupin was the only person you could speak so deeply with. Sebastian was your age and not a profesor but you just didn't find him as attractive so your mind was still stuck on Lupin, this didn't prevent your friendship with Sebastian developing.

Sunday evening you had nothing to do so you were wandering around the lake while the sun was setting, you spent the time thinking about Lupin as you sat near the water reading a muggle book. As it got dark you went back into the castle and that's when you bumped into Sebastian. "Look who it is!" He announced while approaching you and going in for a hug to say hello. "Sebastian." You acknowledge him.

"What have you been up to sport?" He asks you as you continue to walk back to the dorm. "Killing time." You said lifting your book.

"You should've said we could've killed time together if you know what I mean." He said as you slowly walked passed the bridge you looked at it longingly .

"What do you mean?" You asked intriguingly.

"Well instead of reading that... what is it?"

"It's a muggle book." You're replied holding it up. "I forget you're into boring stuff like that. Well darling instead of some boring muggle book me and you could've spend a nice Sunday together. You know I could take you out to some nice places forget about Hogsmeade we could travel into the city." He boasted.

"Really?" You said a bit unamused he was nice but he sometimes was cocky and you hated that.

"I've got my ways darling." He said with a wink at the same time you heard someone clearing their throat behind you, both your heads snapped backwards to see Lupin.

"Are you both aware that you're out last curfew." Lupin stated and you check the time.

"Profesor we apologies but it is only by 3 minutes, we're heading back to our dorms." Sebastian insisted

"Mr Sallow, the Slytherin dorm is the opposite direction." Lupin pointed out. "You better start going that way or I will have to give you and Miss L/N detention as well as take away house points."

"Yes Professor, bye Y/N." He said hugging you good bye "Good night profesor." He said walking away and you replied with your own goodbye and good night ready to quickly run back to your dorm. "Not so quickly I need to speak to you." He stopped you and you nodded. He began walking back towards the bridge and you followed him. He stood in his usual spot lighting a cigarette and you just watched him, he handed you one but you refused it. "I don't like when he speaks like that to you." He stated while looking out from the bridge, you didn't reply since when could he decides how people speak to you, he didn't even speak to you. "Do you like it?" He asked looking at you this time and you looked back into his eyes seeing hurt in his eyes, which didn't make sense considering the hurt he was causing you over the last two weeks. "Why have you been ignoring me?" You asked.

"I've put distance between us because as your teacher I'm concerned you're becoming too close to me. I am responsible for you here and your parents put trust in us to keep you safe."

"Who are you keeping me safe from?" You snapped back it felt like you could cry at any moment hearing how much distance he's put between the two of you.

"Me." He replied sternly. "Now answer my question, do you like it?" He didn't break eye contact.

"No." You replied looking back into his eyes.

"Very well." He replied putting his cigarette out. "I expect to see you in your tutoring session on Monday and in my lessons. From now on no more skipping, do you understand?" You nodded in reply. "Now you should get back to your dorm it's past curfew. He said beginning to walk away, one hand in pocket not looking back at you. If he did look back he would see how confused you looked. You felt almost like you could cry from the overwhelming mix of feelings he had caused.

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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[lovemyavatar]

Pull - a Push Mini Epilogue

Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

@halibanana requested: Oo! It's so good! Can I request a part 2 where they resolve how he ignored her? I'd love to see their relationship evolve!

Summary: I love a good grovel

Warnings: fluff, (aged up) nsfw, oral (fem receiving), jealousy, slight angst, poor bby Neteyam is on the struggle bus fr

Equilibrium

Being with Neteyam is like swimming at first morning light.

In the beginning, the water is freezing. It prickles your skin, chills your bones, sends a shiver up your spine. Then, gradually—sometimes without notice—it warms. It envelopes you, soothing tense muscles and unfurling clenched digits. But, the second you leave the precious cocoon of serenity, the breeze hits your skin and you're trembling all over again.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan is an enigma.

He's soft edges, smooth skin, tender embraces. When you're alone, he can't keep his hands off of you. In those private moments, he pulls you in close, back against his chest, and simply adores you. He's gentle, lips and fingers caressing glowing freckles so lightly, you wonder if it's all a dream.

In front of the clan, however, it's as if another being inhabits his body entirely. The weight of expectation forces your loving Neteyam to retreat, replaced with a cool indifference that makes your heart sink.

It's not like before he claimed you. His eyes don't narrow into that challenging glare anymore. He doesn't prod you with sly insults, or watch your every move with distain. He simply goes about his business, a confident assurance that now he has you.

Sometimes, you wish for the malice. Then, at least, you'd be getting something.

His love slips through the perfected restraint occasionally. Like one day, when you were practicing a new technique with your bow. He happened to walk by, gaze instantly zeroing in on you. He came in close, murmuring a low hello, sevin (pretty) beside your ear, hand snaking around your middle from behind.

Your lips barely had time to pull into a soft smile before he retreated, the sight of a few clan members cutting through the trees enough to make him recoil. You frowned, turning to scold the odd behavior, but he was already gone.

And another day, you sat beside Kiri, weaving and talking quietly. He saw you through a gap in the vines, and quickly changed course to greet you. He approached carefully, a big grin splitting his face. He started to say something that sounded like ma narlor (beautiful). The moment his eyes glanced past his sister, his back straightened, expression dropping to one of casual familiarity.

It eats at you, a nasty, ugly feeling knotting your stomach. This dance has gone on for three weeks. In the last twenty-one days since he made you his, you've been pushed away, then pulled back in, a never-ending cycle of hurt and comfort.

You've started slipping into that old way of thinking, before the two of you crossed an imperceptible line. When you were calculated, when you decided you would get his attention one way or another, no matter what it took. No matter who you had to use.

That's what led you to the situation you're currently in.

You had to admit, though a tiny flame of guilt still flickered inside your chest, that you were having a blast.

Your face tilts toward the sky, a joyous laugh bubbling in your chest. One hand firmly grips the place where your queue is connected with your Ikran's, the other thrown up to feel strong wind blow through extended fingers. The animal swoops down at your internal command, narrowly missing the other, slightly smaller beast flying beside you.

“Hey!” A rough voice shouts, shakily leveling out.

Big yellow eyes narrow in your direction, irritation twinkling beneath the surface. He guides his own Ikran closer to yours, and she calls out before twisting in a graceful barrel roll above the clouds.

“Gotta be faster than that, Lo'ak!” The taunt floats over the wind as you speed past him, a boyish grin splitting his lips before he chases after you.

You play this game of cat and mouse until the sun's eclipse is nearly complete. Only then do you set course for home. Truthfully, when Lo'ak asked you to fly with him, you didn't intend on staying out so late. You didn't even want to agree at first, but the thought of doing something slightly risky, slightly forbidden made your heart flutter with excitement.

It was low, using the well-established competition between brothers to your advantage. But the thought of getting a rise out of Neteyam for the first time in weeks justified the potential consequences.

The second you land, he's barreling through the trees. His eyes find yours first, then Lo'ak's as his Ikran lands beside you. His brows are pinched, hands clenched into tight fists at his hips. Heat blazes behind his narrowed gaze, and you fight a smirk when it sweeps toward Lo'ak again.

“What do the two of you think you're doing?” He can barely get the words out through clenched teeth.

When he realized Lo'ak was missing, he began leisurely exploring the village. He figured his brother hadn't strayed far and was simply avoiding his duties around Home Tree. After several hours, though, anxiety clouded his mind, making him fear the worst. He went to find you, to confide his worries and maybe even convince you to help with search efforts.

But he couldn't find you either.

Your family was no help, they hadn't seen you since morning. He became slightly frantic, strides quickening to a jog as he looked in every nook and cranny of the village. There's no way, he tried to reassure himself, there's no way they're alone together.

He'd just called for his Ikran when he heard it. Heard the familiar call of your bonded animal—and his brother's. He all but sprinted toward the clearing, heart plummeting at the sight of you, head thrown back with a hearty laugh. Lo'ak's expression mirrored yours as he landed next, amused gaze locked on you.

“Aw, come on, bro.” He finally looks away from you, eyes rolling toward the sky with an annoyed huff.

“You were supposed to be back hours ago. I almost started a search party.” His glare slides back to you, the latter part of his sentence a pointed warning.

“It's not a big deal.” Lo'ak tries to assuage him, tone dismissive as he deftly jumps from his Ikran.

Your feet hit the ground with a soft thud, palms smoothing over thick skin to keep your animal calm. The muscles between Neteyam's shoulders bunch, heart thrumming wildly between his ribs.

“Get outta here Lo’ak, before I tell mom and dad.” His voice drops to a gravely rumble, anger clouding his vision. He can't believe you've actually done something like this. You really ran off with his brother of all people, doing Eywa knows what. The possibilities make his blood run cold.

“Dude!” Lo'ak's face scrunches with petulance, but he begrudgingly obeys at the sight of barely contained emotion in his brother's eyes. “At least let me get my—hey!”

Neteyam shoves against his shoulder lightly, urging him along. “Go. Now.”

The younger Sully throws his hands up in surrender, grumbling under his breath as he quickly disappears through thick foliage.

Your gaze, wide with uncertainty, meets molten yellow. Lips part to begin damage control, but all that comes out is a surprised yelp as his fingers clamp around one of your arms.

“Nete—” You stumble to keep up with his hurried pace as he turns and walks briskly toward Home Tree.

He ignores you entirely, dragging you through the village until he finds your shared tent. It's newly formed walls should provide enough privacy for him to deal with you, to figure out how far you've gone this time. With a gentle push you stagger through the door, woven flap slamming shut at your back.

He turns on you, narrowed eyes brimming with anger and something else. Something darker. It wells in his chest, the green flame of jealousy burning through his sternum painfully.

“How could you be so careless?” His chin drops, heated gaze pinning you in place.

“Mawey (calm), Neteyam. It’s fine. We were just having fun.” Your hands lift, palms barely brushing against his chest before he moves away as if you've cut him.

“You do not have fun with my brother.” The deep timbre of his voice sends a shockwave of desire between your legs.

You fidget slightly, rubbing your thighs together, and he misinterprets the motion as one of nervousness, of guilt.

“He is reckless. And a bad influence, clearly.” His jaw clenches so hard he fears he may crack a tooth.

“It was just a quick flight, ‘Teyam, I don’t see what—” You step toward him again, but stop short as he advances on you, one hand moving to cup the back of your neck.

A gasp fills the small space between you as he firmly tilts your head back, leering down at you hotly. “You not getting enough attention, yawne (beloved)? Is that it?”

Your heart soars, despite the fact that he's upset because of you. The hard edges you haven't seen for weeks have returned with a vengeance, that possessive glint in his eye you've been dying to see finally back in full force. It makes your core clench with anticipation.

It's not that you don't appreciate how careful he's been with you. It's sweet, loving, the way he appears almost afraid to hurt you in those intimate moments. But you crave more. You want every piece of him, this rougher side of him, as much as the rest.

You gulp down a course swallow, trembling with steadily rising emotion. “You've been cold, Nete. You act like we aren't even mates in front of the clan.”

It's a sore spot, a point of insecurity. Though he claimed you as his in the forest all those nights ago, he refuses to mate before Eywa. You've asked, and every time, he's dismissed you. You're trying to give him time, to wait until he's ready, but the rejection stings.

A rough breath falls from his lips, corded muscles loosening slightly. His shoulders drop, eyes pinching closed for a brief moment. Regret grips his heart when he looks at you again, seeing moisture gather along your lashes.

“Oh, baby girl. I'm sorry.” His hand slides away from your neck, instead winding around your back to pull you in close.

You curl against his chest, arms latching around his middle. His embrace brings you comfort, eases the ache a bit, but you still yearn for answers. Your head tilts away from his warmth, eyes searching his in question.

One of his large hands smooths down your hair, another sigh fanning your face. “I just—I don't know, sweetheart. I feel like if I touch you in front of them, I'm sharing something too intimate.”

You can understand it to a degree, you know he's reserved by nature. But what you don't get, what you can't accept for much longer, is his refusal to be fully yours in the eyes of the Great Mother.

“But why won't you mate with me?” You decide to ask outright, though your chest tightens with uncertainty, the words falling from trembling lips.

His expression sours, and he reluctantly tears his gaze away from yours. He tries to remove himself from you, but your arms only tighten around him.

“I don't deserve it.” When your brows pinch with confusion, he continues, fingertips ghosting your cheek. “All those years I spent ignoring you, being cruel to you...I can't, yawne (beloved). Not until I've earned it.”

“Oh, ‘Teyam...” You coo, heart shattering at his inner turmoil.

You had no idea he felt this way, was punishing himself in this way. Your hands frame his face, pulling it back up from where it'd fallen against his chest with guilt.

“I can see that I've already failed you.” He grumbles, lips pulling into a frown as he thinks back to all the ways he made you feel less than over the last few weeks.

He was caught up in his own idea of being a respectable mate. He thought if he gave you space, wasn't too overbearing in front of others, you'd be more comfortable. It was a big shift, going from adversaries to lovers. He figured you wouldn't want to flaunt your relationship with him, given the way he'd treated you for so long.

Apparently, he couldn't have been more wrong.

“I’m sorry, sevin (pretty).” He repeats, voice dropping to a low murmur. “Please, don't hate me.”

“I could never hate you, ‘Teyam.” You assure, lips ghosting over his in a chaste caress. “Even during those years...I've never hated you, yawnetu (love).”

His chest swells, feeling so unworthy, but so grateful for your unconditional love. He captures your lips in a passionate kiss, fingers threading into your braids gently. You sway with the force of his mouth on yours, humming contentedly against him.

He walks forward, until the backs of your knees hit the woven mat the two of you have spent many nights tangled on. With a gentle shove you break away from him, panting lightly as strong elbows catch your fall. Your breath hitches when he slowly kneels before you, heavy lidded eyes never leaving yours.

“Let me start making it up to you, narlor (beautiful).” He murmurs, peppering gentle, open mouthed kisses along your thigh.

Long fingers wrap around your knees, tenderly easing them apart. He settles between them, nostrils flaring at the sight of your covered core. Within seconds you're bare before him, glistening sex on full display for his waiting mouth.

He licks his lips, eyes catching yours again as he dives in, tongue lashing a languid stroke along your pussy lips. He mutters a quiet sorry with every tiny kitten lick, until you're shaking with the effort of remaining still and patient. He hums against you, fingertips prodding at your entrance.

“‘Teyam!” You instantly cry out, head dipping under the bloom of pleasure.

“That's it, baby. Make those pretty noises for me.”He pulls back, lips and chin glistening, eyes boring into yours intensely.

A broken moan fills the tent as he slides two fingers inside you effortlessly, soft walls fluttering around the intrusion. He pumps them slowly, tongue diving back in to circle your clit. You fall against the mat, arms trembling from holding yourself upright. His pace only quickens as he adds his third and final finger.

Your back arches from the bed, pleasured sighs filling the otherwise quiet room. He pulls his fingers almost entirely free before slamming them back into you, grunting at the way you spasm around the digits. You mewl, hips jerking up toward him as his mouth latches onto your clit again.

“‘Teyam! I—I...” The words dissolve into pitiful moans as your lower belly tightens.

“Atta girl, come on, cum for me.” He pulls back just long enough to groan the praise before he's back on you, lavishing your pussy with apologies.

Your body instantly obeys, orgasm ripping through you forcefully. You clench around his fingers, hips trembling as white hot pleasure causes you to shudder beneath him. Your chest heaves with ragged breaths as you come down from the high he'd given you. He mercifully abandons your clit, moving up to hover above you.

His fingers never leave you, pumping a steady pace as he quickly works you up to another release. He grins down at you warmly, free hand smoothing along your cheek.

“Catch your breath, baby girl. I have many years to make up for.”

[shaineybainey]

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 initial thoughts

[ NOT spoiler-free ]

For me, this is one of the few franchises that got better and better as it went along. This third movie was just absolutely phenomenal. As someone had said, it is a great send-off to the movie and the Guardians we've known.

They did a great job exploring Rocket's origin. It really explains why he's never wanted to talk about his past. It was violent and heartbreaking. Nebula's line of "They did worse things to him than Thanos did to me" (or something along that line) summarized it best. You also understand why Rocket can be so violent: it wasn't much because he learned it from the people who engineered him, but because the last time he tried to get away safely, quietly, his friends - essentially his family - all got killed. And the person who caused it was so cold about it. So while he could be extreme, he does it so that no one can hurt him or any of his friends ever again.

Which leads to this other point: Rocket is a grump and a cynic, but deep down he actually really loved the other Guardians.

Adam Warlock! I didn't know what to expect from him, but after seeing the movie, I want to see more of him.

Also: it's great that the movie managed to give Adam his own origin story, his own motivation for why he eventually ended up being a guardian.

Drax was hilarious in this movie, as he always is, but Mantis kinda came for the crown a bit! The fact that she made him fall in love with a sock for fun and made one of the guards they had to get through fall in love with him were some of the funniest moments in the movie.

On a more serious Drax note: "Drax. You weren't meant to be a destroyer. You were meant to be a dad." One of the best lines in the movie. I never would have thought that this is how Drax would "grow up" as a character, but it all made sense. It does.

Kraglin had a fantastic growth too. He'd been trying to train with the arrow Yondu gave him over and over and over, trying to concentrate and plan and think. And he kept failing over and over and over. But when Knowhere was in danger, he finally remembered what Yondu told him: "Fly it with your heart." When he realized that he needed to get out of his head, man did he do some damage. It was amazing.

The bad dog/good dog argument 😂

Gamora. I like how they approached that. They didn't make her fall in love with Peter, even after all the fighting that they did as a team. They were barely even good friends in the end. Also, it's nice that she has a different family to belong to now (the Ravagers) but who still loved her just the same. It's good that they didn't try to change her. They made her realistic.

Lol "You guys are just making up what he's saying" when Groot would talk

Nebula. Oh, man, where do I begin. I've started really liking her as a character since GotG 2, and even more so during Endgame, but wow. She's really grown. She looks after the people of Knowhere, the Guardians look to her for big decisions and even resolution for internal problems of the team. The team respects her, even more than Peter most times. She still has rage inside, and she has trouble expressing other feelings without it, but I think she's made tremendous progress. And it's so obvious that she cares deeply about the team and even the lives of others, even if she doesn't outright say it.

Okay. There's a lot to unearth with the not-so-subtle hints at Peter/Nebula. First off, it's obvious in this movie and even in the Christmas special that Nebula's been looking after Peter. But the fact that she would take him home whenever he was totally wasted and put him to bed, making sure he was comfortable? And when Gamora was going to hurt Peter out of frustration and Nebula jumped in to stop her, practically telling her to back off? And that when Gamora suggested that the woman Peter's describing, the one that he's fallen in love with because she's grown from being ruthless to being caring, is Nebula, and Peter started looking at her differently? Bruh. I don't know what they're playing at here, but alright. I'm onboard.

Speaking of Peter, I like that he decided to come back home to Earth to reach out to his grandfather. I'd like to think he got a little help from the Avengers to get to that doorstep (info, means of transpo, things like that). It was great to see him in a normal life setting in the post-credit, too, where he's just eating cereal, talking smack about someone behind their back lol

Okay, that's it for now. Will come back when I remember the other things I liked (spoiler alert: there's a TON)

[seiya-starsniper]

#6 or #19 for the gentle prompts? 🥺🥺❤️❤️

#6 - "I've got you." || [AO3 Link Here]

I love the HELL out of this prompt 💖 Apologies this ended up being a lot more hurt/comfort than anything else, but there's still plenty of gentleness in it! Thanks for sending in the prompt, I hope you enjoy my little slice of birthday cake from me to you 🍰😄

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

After he releases Calliope from her prison and exacts his revenge on her behalf, Dream is left feeling unmoored and inadequate. 

He should have tried to escape sooner. He should not have stayed so long stuck in his foolish pride. He should not have been caught at all, even though he knew that his summoning was not his fault, but a plot orchestrated by his younger sibling. Still, Dream was the elder and he should’ve known. He should’ve—He could’ve—

Dream finds himself standing at the front door of the New Inn, and the noises of cheer and joy erupting from within break the Endless out of his maudlin thoughts. He looks up at the sign to the pub, sighing as he considers how he ended up here.

Hob Gadling had greeted him not even two weeks ago as a friend when Dream came to him after his imprisonment. They had talked late into the night, and Dream had found himself able to talk candidly about his capture for the first time. Hob had taken him gently by the hand at the end of the night and told Dream to return to him any time he felt he needed a friend. He did not need to wait 100 years. He was welcome anytime.

And so, here Dream is, in need of the company of his oldest friend. Perhaps his only friend.

He doesn’t even know if Hob will be inside, but if not, he can always return another time. When the door bangs open, and a pack of drunken patrons merrily make their way outside the bar, Dream slips inside past them, and into the warmth and familiarity of the New Inn. He immediately spots Hob standing with a microphone near the bar. 

He is—singing?

Dream furrows his brow in confusion before he scans the daydreams of the bar patrons, determined to give himself context to what is occurring. Apparently the New Inn is celebrating something called Karaoke Night. All patrons are encouraged to participate, it seems, and as the owner of the pub, Hob is usually the one to start the festivities, as well as keep them going throughout the night. 

Dream realizes that Hob has a rather lovely singing voice. Already, he can feel the tension slowly leaking from his shoulders, disappearing into the crowd the longer he watches his friend joke and laugh with the other patrons of the bar in between verses.

Dream wonders if he should not come back another time after all. Hob is clearly preoccupied, and it would not do for Dream to beg for his friend’s companionship when there are others who are much livelier and more deserving of it than he. Perhaps he should—

“Dream?” Hob calls out to him, breaking him out of yet another bout of self-deprecating thoughts. Hob is looking at him, and he appears to be delighted to see Dream. He hands the microphone off to the man managing the music, and then rushes over to greet him.  

When he reaches Dream, Hob wraps his arms around him in a hug. It’s meant to be a greeting, a quick embrace, but Dream’s body must sense that he needs more than that, because he practically collapses into his friend's arms. Hob grunts as he takes on the Endless’s unexpected weight but then he squeezes Dream’s shoulder and presses his face into Dream’s unruly hair.

“Hey, you all right?” Hob asks him, his voice soothing and gentle.

Dream wants to reassure his friend that he is fine, that there is nothing wrong with him, to apologize for his one moment of weakness—but he is so tired. He is emptied out after today. He would like to rest. Just for a little while.

“No,” he replies, internally cringing at just how weary he sounds. “I am—not well.”

And then Dream decides to indulge—he indulges because Hob had told him he was allowed—he wraps his arms around Hob, and then buries his face in his oldest friend’s shoulder. Hob only hums in response, before he calls a woman over to where they’re standing. 

“Hey Beth, I’m taking off early tonight,” Hob tells the woman who comes to check in on them. Dream peers up at her from Hob’s shoulder. Her name is Elizabeth Lovegood. She has worked for the New Inn for a little less than five years, but she dreams of one day owning her own bakery. She is smiling kindly at him, and Dream feels undeserving of it.

“Is he all right?” Beth asks. “This that the same guy who came in here that one time?”

“Yeah,” Hob answers for him, then gently rubs Dream’s shoulders. “Think he’s just had a rough day and needs a place to crash for the night.”

Beth nods. “I got everything under control here, boss. You feel better all right, hon?”

Dream nods, and then he is being shuffled away to the back of the pub, near the stairs where Hob keeps his flat above the New Inn. 

“Hey, shh it's okay, I've got you,” Hob tells him gently as he leads them up the stairs and into the warmth of his home. 

Hob prepares tea and wraps Dream up in a blanket that had been previously sitting along the back of the sofa where Dream is now sitting. When they are settled together, he asks,

“What happened?”

Dream recounts the story of Calliope and her imprisonment. Hob asks some clarifying questions about their relationship and Dream does his best to answer without straying too close to the topic of Orpheus. He is not ready to discuss Orpheus yet. Not with Calliope. Not with Hob. He is not sure if he will ever be ready. 

When he is finished, he sighs deeply and leans back into the softness of Hob’s couch.

“That is everything,” he finishes. “And now you are aware of one of my greatest failures.”

Hob’s brow furrows. “Failures?” he asks, confused. “But you freed Calliope, and without much trouble, how is that anything but a rousing success?”

“But she should not have had to suffer for so long,” Dream insists. “If I only I had not let my pride get in the way, I could have—”

Dream, Hob interrupts him, a rare sternness in his voice Dream has not heard since 1889. “You cannot live in the what-ifs, my friend,” he continues, his voice back to gentle and calming. “That way leads to madness, and I think you and I both know that better than most.”

“But I am not human,” Dream argues. “I am Endless, and I should not have been captured by Roderick Burgess in the first place.”

“So the Endless never make mistakes then?” Hob asks him pointedly. The accusation stings and white hot anger flashes beneath the skin of Dream’s mortal form. 

“You—!” Dream exclaims, suddenly standing, his still hot tea splashing violently within its mug. “You still dare—”

“I do dare,” Hob replies, getting off the couch himself and placing his own mug on the coffee. “Because you’re my friend and I care about you, and I won’t watch you berate yourself for things that were clearly out of your control!”

Out of his control.

It’s those words that finally make Dream deflate. He drops back down onto the couch, splashing tea all over himself and the furniture. Hob yelps in alarm, but Dream merely waves the liquid away. He is tired again. He has been tired a lot lately. 

“I am sorry,” Dream says, staring up at Hob’s ceiling. “You are right. These things were outside what I could control. And I do not like things that are out of my control.”

Hob snorts. “I don’t anyone likes the things that are out of their control, my friend,” he says, before plopping himself down next to Dream. “Want a hug?”

Dream does. He leans into the crook of Hob’s arm, and once again he feels his tension and sorrows from the day bleed away into the fabric of the couch. 

Perhaps he shall stay. Just for a little while. 

[firstclassattorney]

(OOC: im so dismayed. I just now realized I never replied to the last message of the Kazy Whitlock roleplay and didn’t check till now lmaoooo.. 😭😭 might be easier to start from a new reblogging point because it’s a different main point so I’ll send this as an ask [and to give you the choice to continue or not to continue, because I just forgot about this for a few days] )

Considering he handed off the piece of paper personally, Kazy didn’t feel a need to send anything to Kristoph to check he got the message. He gave Kristoph reason enough to clear his shedule to attend the band practice.

Kazy sat in a fold-up chair, legs crossed over eachother and one arm around the back of the seat. It was sat in front of a window with the blinds down, opened just enough for him to see the parking lot while an outsider may not notice him there.

He glanced back behind him. Daryan and Klavier were chatting while Klavier tuned his guitar and Daryan leaned against the wall. We were waiting on the other band members to begin practice, while I was waiting on a certain surprise guest… Being a drummer for the Gavinners had its perks.

Maybe it was intentionally a hidden threat made toward Kristoph to tell him that Kazy was involved in his life and not to screw with him. Sure, maybe. Kazy wouldn’t clarify, no matter what conclusions one might draw.

(OOC: HELPP ITS OK POOKIE, dont even worry ab it it happens to me all the time... and yeah sending an ask considering its a new 'arc' is a good idea)

...

Kristoph, for the first time in a long time, felt thrill.

Thrill was not something he felt often. His routine always remained unchanged unless something new came up unexpectedly. It had become boring, lacking of any excitement to drive him forward, to make him enjoy the life he was living. This new sense of both looking forward to meeting this Whitlock again and wanting to see his head on a stick was unusual, but for Kristoph, what wasn't?

So, he had of course prepared himself for the meeting, as he always did. He paid a bit more attention to the finer details this time, however, not wanting Kazy to possibly make him look bad. He already had made him panic last time at the bar- which, honestly, hurt Kristoph's ego just a bit- and he wouldn't let it happen again. Kristoph's reputation meant absolutely everything to him.

So, with his usual signature professional smile, he continued to walk, internally practicing what to say and how to say it.

[felice-jaganshi]

My Fallen Apple

Lucifer X Reader

Chapter 6

You moved into hell, giving your friend Zariah a heads-up, and swearing her to secrecy. The next few weeks were a blur of fun as you got to re-meet all the Sins and visit their rings in more depth. Each of them seemed intent on trying to help you and Lucifer get closer, except for Mammon. But the more you got to know of that guy, the more you hated him, so that didn't bother you really. 

 

A few months later, you were about to enter his workshop when you heard him talking to himself again.

“Daughter calling?! She hasn't called you in months! This has to be perfect…”

You decided to just wait outside and listen… and wow was he struggling. But in the end-

“My daughter wants to see me~~ take THAT depression!” It seemed it worked out after all. Good, you were happy for him. And maybe this meant you could finally meet her too! You knock on the door and he answers,

“Becca! You won't believe what just happened!” He's grinning ear to ear.

You smile and humor him, “What is it?”

 

“My daughter called! She wants to see me!” He's bouncing in place, and you laugh.

“That's wonderful Luci goosey!”

He blushes at the nickname, “Will you come with me? I… I'm afraid I'll fuck it up if i go alone.” 

 

“Of course, I'd love to. I said before I'll always stand by your side. I meant it.” You smile warmly, internally screaming your victory. His eyes light up and he screams his victory externally.

________

 

You go with him to the hotel, and oh wow is it crazy and colorful! He introduces you to Charlie right after practically crushing Vaggie in a hug.

“Oh, that reminds me, Charlie, meet my new friend, Becca! She's been keeping me company the last few months.” He motions to you, and you wave politely, feeling a little nervous.

 

“Hi Charlie, it's nice to finally meet you. He's told me alot about you.” 

Charlie immediately looks you over with big shocked eyes. “New ‘friend’ huh? It's nice to meet you.” She offers you a handshake, but you can tell she's unsure how to feel about you. 

 

You shake her hand, “Yes, friend. And I'm hoping you and I will be friends too. I have something I'd like to talk to you about in private later if we can?” 

“Uh, sure. Let me finish introducing everyone now.”

______

 

The duet the two shared was so sweet, it made you tear up and cry a little. After, Charlie pulled you aside, “Hey, so… You and my dad… are you really just friends?” shit, here we go!

 

“Well, yes but… I really like him alot… is that okay?” You're nervous, she's literally his everything! Whether she likes you or not is the make or break of your relationship. 

 

“I see… Do you treat him right? He needs a lot of attention.”

You nod, “Absolutely! I really love him, Charlie. I want him to be happy… I don't want to replace your mom, but I hope I can get your blessing to try dating him, and maybe you and I can be friends?” You put all your sincerity into those words, hoping she can see you for who you really are.

 

She gives you a once over, silently thinking… before pulling you into a tight hug. “Okay… I'll have a talk with him about mom. You have my blessing.” she then pulls back, holding your shoulders. “You came to me with respect, honesty, and genuine love. Just don't hurt my dad, ever. Don't make me regret trusting you.” She looked serious. 

 

“I'd never hurt him on purpose. He's the best thing to happen to me since I died.” Tears start to fall from your eyes.

Charlie tries to wipe them away with a soft smile, “I believe you.”

She gives you another, softer hug. “Alright, I'm going to talk to dad about this. You just sit tight.”

_____

 

You know you shouldn't eavesdrop, it's rude… but it has to do with you, so maybe you have a right to know? That's what you tell yourself anyways. And on the other side of that door, Charlie is trying to convince her dad that Lilith isn't coming back. You hear yelling, and crying from both of them, and you feel terrible. You're not really able to make out any of the words for the most part, as you're still trying to keep enough distance to not get caught.

 

Eventually the door opens and you're ducking round the corner. “Alright… if that's what you think… I'll consider your words. Now I need to go ring up your uncle Michael. Or Gabriel might be better, they're more likely to actually answer… either way…” He didn't sound thrilled about that talk.

 

He then went looking for you, “Becca! Where'd you run off to? It's time to go home!”

You decided to sneak back to the lobby and hang out with that pink spider at the bar till Lucifer is close enough to find you, to pretend that's where you were this whole time.

 

The bartender raises an eyebrow, “So, what's a noble like you usually drink?”

 

“Huh? Oh no. I'm not a noble, I just kinda crashed into his garden and he decided to keep me.” You chuckle lightly.

 

“Crashed into my garden and nearly took out my rosebush!” Lucifer said, suddenly throwing an arm around your shoulders. “I've been looking everywhere for you. Are you ready to head out, or still making friends?”

You blush a little at the casual touch. He must be feeling bad, you discovered he gets more touchy and cuddly when his depression starts to creep up on him. So you place a hand on the one around your shoulder and hold it as you smile at him, “We can head out now if you've had enough.”

He smiles warmly at you, appreciating your acknowledgement of his lack of social energy. And with that, you both head home to rest and cuddle, as friends.

 

For now…

[ash-lash]

school bus graveyard headcanons!! (Just my opinion)

Ashlyn🎧

When she’s practicing ballet she has her music low. So when anyone walks in they don’t hear it and wonder what the absolute what is she doing.

Ashlyn refuses to be around Aiden when he’s eating jolly ranchers because he crunches on them and if she has to hear that one more time she’s sticking them to his bedroom window

Prefers soft food over crunchy food due to how it feels in her ears and how it sounds. (you know when you hear the food you eat? That’s what I mean)

When she goes to ballet practice she always looks out for Aiden ever since she showed him where the studio was. He showed up once and Ashlyn had the instructor lock him outside.

Aiden🧩

Loves puzzles to the point where he has a stash of them that he hasn’t completed in a box because one day he knows he’ll finish them. (Spoiler alert he gets side tracked and never does)

Tries to break his habit of crunchy on jolly ranchers around ash to make her more comfortable. But she did stick one to his head once and now he prefers the gummy jolly ranchers.

When he shows up to Ashlyn’s dance studio he always tries to go around the back but ash always seem to know his next move and locks his entrance points.

Ben 🥊

Throws hands with parents that hit their kids. You cannot tell me he has not had the internal fight of trying not to slam a parent into the clothes rack when they spank their kids in public.

He once helped a cat stuck in a tree when he was a kid and it scratched him. And while he was disinfecting them Aiden had a talk with him about not getting close to things that’ll hurt you.

Aiden managed to make him dye his hair blonde or match him once and that’s why his hair is so short cause he had to start over cause of the bleach.

Tyler ⚾️

Hates cold weather, will immediately go back inside when it’s cold or later himself up more.

Him and Taylor used to have staring contests as kids and neither of them would look away until their dad or mom grabbed them and moved them away from each other

Judges Aiden whenever Aiden says something dumb. He thinks how can he be rich and dumb. But he never says it out loud cause he has respect for aiden since most of them know aiden is actually really smart.

Taylor 🪛

Once cut her hair to match Tyler’s and their mom couldn’t tell them apart for days

Once made a robot to attack Barron with but Tyler dismantled it and talked to her about it.

Thought about joining the cheer team since some of her friends were on it but decided against it.

Pulls all-nighters to finish projects and mechanical stuff.

Logan📚

Loves reading. I kinda think he’d read books off of booktok and when he does he’d honestly be to scared to even go back on the app.

He used to always wear long socks but them changed to leggings instead to be a bit more fashionable.

Thought about getting contacts but putting anything near his eyes makes him shudder and he’d rather not.

His grandparents make good food and so he invites the group over sometimes and they have a good time eating

Once discovered how to make a hallucinogenic concoction when he was making mulch and mixed two flowers together.

Has books all over his room. Tyler once came over to help him organize. And the next day it was back the way it was.

Logan has his favorite books on a small shelf in his room and rereads them every morning and night.

[mimi-cee-genshin]

Denial is Futile: Wanderer x f!reader - Chapter 1

Read on AO3 | Series Masterlist

Summary: The cute and sweet guy from the bazaar was brought to your place while unconscious. But when he woke up, you were appalled by the amount of snark he had. Was he even the same person? And now you were stuck with him because he could literally die if he stopped holding your hand. You weren't sure if you could tolerate him any longer. Little did you know he was exactly the type of person you needed in your life.

Other info: Fluff, humor, sfw, enemies to lovers, some hurt/comfort and angst later, character growth, occurs after the version 3.3 Archon quest and Tighnari's story quest, female reader

Word count: 2.1k

*****

You fell back onto the bed with arms spread out, taking in the comfort of a real mattress. You finally won't be on the floor tonight.

You've been sleeping at Collei's place ever since you started as an intern here. The Akademiya was testing out a new program for young scholars to get some more practical experience while continuing their studies. You were stationed at Gandharva Ville for a few months under Tighnari's mentorship.

For now, you took over the odd jobs that Collei would have done, but being out here at least gave you a chance to see the plants you studied for yourself. Maybe next time, you could intern in the desert. You imagined the plants there would be completely different from where you grew up.

You rolled over on the bed and closed your eyes, thankful Collei was letting you use her bed while she was visiting Mondstadt. Today was your day off, so you could afford a nap. You closed your eyes and snuggled into your blanket as you began to drift off.

"Hey!" It was Kamran's voice from outside. The forest ranger rushed through the entrance and Iraj followed after him. "You can help us, right?" Kamran asked. A body hung limp across his back, completely unconscious.

Your jaw dropped.

It wasn't unusual for the rangers to bring in someone who needed medical attention. Over the months you were here, a few people came to Tighnari for minor injuries, despite his frequent warnings. But you hadn't encountered someone in this state before.

From Kamran and Iraj's reaction, it seemed that finding someone unconscious wasn't new. But why did they bring him to you? You were a student, not a doctor.

"What happened?" you asked.

"We found him near a batch of speckled posies," Kamran told you.

"But those are harmless," you said. You recently studied them during your previous semester. You could even visualize it among your stack of flashcards.

"That's what we thought too," Iraj said. "That's why we brought him to you, in case you knew more information about them."

"That's all I know right now." You bit your lip, glancing out the door. "Where's Tighnari?"

"He's on his way back from Pardis Dhyai," Iraj replied. Tighnari must have been there checking on Karkata.

You nibbled on your nail. "Alright." You headed to your desk and grabbed a couple of textbooks. You hoped there would be some useful information in them. "Bring him in for now while we figure something out," you told them.

Kamran laid the patient on your bed while you flipped through the pages of the textbook on Avidya flowers. The chapter on speckled posies was somewhere near the back.

"Here is it," you said, walking back to your bed.

Thud.

Your textbook hit the floor. You covered your mouth, shocked to see who was in front of you. You didn't get a clear look at him earlier, but now seeing his outfit and then verifying his face, you wished it wasn't him.

He was the guy you met at the Grand Bazaar.

*****

The lighting grew dim as you entered the heart of Sumeru City, a whole marketplace among massive trunks and broad-covered leaves. The bazaar was still as grand as the first time you entered it. There was nothing like this back in Inazuma.

You stared up at the greenery, but you were pushed forward, about to fall flat on your face. You held your hands out front, bracing for impact, when someone grabbed the back of your shirt.

You let out your breath. That was close. But when you turned around, a sunsettia was about to smack you in the face. You caught it just in time.

"Sorry about that," he said with a soft and gentle voice. "I didn't see you there."

In front of you was a stack of three – no, four – crates balanced on his left hand.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he let go of your shirt.

He seemed like a regular guy to you. He had a blue and white outfit and wore an oddly large hat. He wasn't bad looking: a slender build, indigo hair framing his face and his eyes were…

"Hey," he said, catching your attention. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you replied, breaking your eyes away from him. "I'm fine." You stared at the sunsettia in your hand, not knowing where else to look. The surface of your cheeks heated up. You weren't sure if it was merely because you were embarrassed.

"Is there–"

You flinched, startling him as well. Why were you getting surprised by his voice? He wasn't even loud. You never used to be scared of anything.

"Is there any way I can make it up to you?" he asked.

"Nope," you told him, taking a peek to force yourself to look at him. You didn't want him to think you were avoiding him. "I'm fine," you quickly added as you handed him the sunsettia.

He shook his head. "You keep it," he told you, touching your hand and gently pushing it back. "It's the least I could do." You felt a tingle where his hand met yours.

"I... Umm..." You tilted your head down, attempting to hide your growing smile. "Thank you."

"Hey, kid," a tall, burly man walked up to him. He stared at him from head to toe, in awe of the number of crates he was holding. "How in the world can you carry all those sunsettias?" he asked. "You don't even have a vision."

"I'm not quite sure," he said. "But I'm glad I can use my strength to pay you back, Boss."

They started some small talk with you, perhaps because the boss was hoping to get some business from you after learning you were new here. They soon returned to their stand, but as the guy left, he waved back at you one last time.

When he wasn't watching, you smacked your forehead. It had been a long time since you've felt nervous, although for a different reason. At least here you could say you had decent taste. He seemed like a sweet guy. You wanted to deny it, but in the back of your mind, you wished you could meet him again some day.

*****

This was not how you wanted to meet him again.

He was passed out on your bed, lifeless as if he were a puppet with no strings. You bit your lip, praying he would survive whatever illness he was going through. It hurt to see a guy like him unconscious in front of you with no means of waking him up. He didn't deserve this.

"I don't understand," Tighnari said as he continued to examine him. "There's no reason he would have effects this severe. Perhaps there is another reason for his reaction."

"We didn't find anything else in the area, sir," said Kamran. "Although… we may have missed something since our priority was to bring him to safety. There were other creatures around."

"Hmm…," said Tighnari. "It seems we'll have to go on the information we have then. I've never seen anyone react this way." He checked the patient's forehead and pulse. Tighnari's eyes widened. "Upon closer inspection, his situation is similar to when Karta–"

Tighnari got up and picked up his satchel. He headed for the door. "I'll be right back," he informed you. "But see what you can do for now. Kamran, Iraj, you're coming with me."

Your hands clammed up, paralyzed from having your mentor practically abandoning you to fend for yourself with little instruction. You peeked at your unconscious patient with no clue what to do.

But something bothered you. What did Tighnari see when he checked on him? With hesitation, you reached out to touch his forehead, hoping you'd gain some insight.

He wasn't breathing.

Were his airways blocked? What was Tighnari thinking? The forest rangers? Did they not notice? Did he only stop breathing now?

You pulled down his jaw to check if anything was stuck in his throat. You tried to remember that first aid and CPR book you randomly read when your roommate was out. You weren't trained for this. What should you do?

His eyes opened.

"Ahhhhhhh!!!!" you screamed, pulling your hand away. His eyes were still opened but he wasn't moving, just laying on the bed. What the heck was going on?

You cursed under your breath, convinced your spirit had left your body. You slowly reached out to him to check on him again. At the touch of your skin, he moved his hand.

You braced yourself for whatever you thought was going to happen, but relaxed a little when he simply raised his hand to touch his forehead.

"What just happened?" he groaned.

"You were unconscious," you told him.

"I knew that much," he said, his tone slightly more sarcastic than you had expected it to be.

He tried to sit up and you helped him since you thought he wouldn't be feeling well. He leaned his back against the wall and his gold pendant dropped down and dangled off of his shoulder. Your eyes grew wide as his anemo vision swayed back and forth in front of you. Did he always have one?

You shook your head. Focus. Forget about the vision.

"So are you just going to sit there and keep holding me up or…"

"You weren't breathing!" you spat out. "So I was trying to check your airways and–"

"Are you stupid or something?" he asked.

"What?" You blinked a few times. Where did that come from?

"Are you so dumb as to not notice I'm not human?"

"I… um…," you stammered. It was true you shouldn't have assumed but even youkai needed to breathe. "Well, you were the one who was passed out in the middle of the forest."

"What's your point?"

"You–" No. Calm down. You didn't want your anger to get the best of you. You took a deep breath and tried again. "They found you near some speckled posies. We currently think that might be the cause."

He let out a scoff. "So after all those experiments, I've been bested by a flower. Ha. Pathetic."

Your eyes widen, not recognizing the guy in front of you anymore. Who was he?

"No wonder why they ditched me," he muttered to himself.

Oh. Maybe he was acting this way because someone had wronged him. You tried to be more compassionate with him.

"I don't think you're pathetic," you told him. "You know you're actually really strong, right? Not many can hold a stack of filled crates on one hand. Besides," you strained a smile at him, "personality is much more important."

"Did you get that from the latest self-help seminar?"

"Excuse me?"

"What? Just calling it as it is."

What was his problem? Was he even the same guy you met before?

"Are you actually his evil twin?" you asked.

He raised a brow. "What are you going on about?"

"You know. You… or at least someone who looks like you was at the bazaar?" you told him.

"Ha. Hahahaha." His laughter sounded awkwardly evil. "That was me alright." He leaned toward you, riling you up "What? I'm not your style now?"

He had to be lying. There was no way someone's personality could change so drastically. But one glance at his vision was all it took to remind you it was possible.

A knot formed in your stomach. "Look," you told him, grinding your teeth. "I'm here trying to help you, but–"

"Get off me."

"What?" you snapped at him.

"I don't need your help."

Your hand was on his upper arm to support him in case he might have gotten dizzy and fainted. Why did you even bother?

"Well? Aren't you–”

You let go.

His whole body went limp and nearly hit the bed. You were so shocked that you caught him as a reflex.

His brows furrowed. "Didn't you hear me? I said hands off–"

You let go again, but this time you let him drop on the floor. He could stay like that for all you cared.

He remained on the floor, but your heart ran a little faster every second he stayed unconscious. His body was curled up next to the bed, his arm was bent in an awkward way and his cheek was firmly planted on the ground.

"Hey," you said, hoping for a response. "Hey." Your voice began to reveal your panic. "This isn't funny," you said, pulling his arm. "You'd better stop–"

"Why am I on the floor?"

Your eyes grew wide as he stared straight back at you. This wasn't a joke. He went unconscious every time you let go of him and woke up every single time you held onto him.

What exactly was going on?

*****

Chapter 2 >

I hope you liked it. Please use this Google form or send me an ask if you want to be on the taglist for this series.

Let me know what you think of it so far in the replies or reblog tags if you'd like. :)

[lxvemaze]

彡you just had to ruin it like that

pairing' moonbin x reader

genre' fluff, non idol au

wc' 3.5k

warnings' brothers best friend trope, mentions of drinking

song rec' somethin' stupid by frank sinatra

a/n' i feel very soft and squishy after writing this

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Every year on New Year’s Eve, your family would go on a trip to stay at your grandparent’s beach house for the holiday. Even though you and your brother were now in university and living away from home, It was always your favorite few days of the year- a time where you, your parents, and your older brother could relax in peace. A time without any of your brothers annoying friends somehow finding a way to show up and ruin your peace and quiet.

“Come on, it’s his last holiday here before he goes to grad school overseas.”

Unfortunately this year, your brother had decided to invite his best friend, Moon Bin. You didn’t hate Bin. Quite the opposite, actually. You’d had a crush on him for nearly as long as you could remember. Him and your brother were two years older than you, and while you and your brother were practically best friends, Bin acted like it was his life’s personal mission to annoy the hell out of you every time you saw each other. After they graduated high school, he and your brother opted to go to a university together closer to home, while two years later, you went for one a few cities away. Your brother was a little bit hurt that you didn’t want to go to the same university as him, but to be honest, you just didn’t want to be around Bin.

“All the more reason for him to stay with his family.” The last thing you wanted at the moment was to be cooped up in a small secluded house next to the ocean with him. Honestly, you thought you’d gotten over your little crush on him when you first went off to university. You’d made your own friends, dated around, and started living your own life. But when your brother brought up bringing his closest friend on your vacation, your heart dropped into your stomach.

“Why are you being such a pill about this? I thought Bin was your favorite of my friends.” You and your brother were outside your house, putting your family’s various luggage in the back of your parents' minivan.

“Well, yeah. But that’s not really saying much. Besides, you kinda sprung this on me last minute.” You tossed your small suitcase into the trunk next to the bag of various sugary snacks and booze that your brother had packed, and your parents certainly hadn’t approved of.

“Dude, you’re acting like I invited your arch nemesis. You haven’t even seen him in like, almost three years. I mean, I know he used to pick on you a bit, but you were no better.” Your brother sat down on the edge of the trunk, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t know, maybe it’s just because we’ve never brought anyone else on this trip before.” You stuffed your hands in your pockets and sat down next to your brother.

“Well either way, he’ll be here any minute, and then we’ll be off.”

Your parents came out of the house, bundled up in thick coats and scarves to fend against the biting December air. As much as you loved your yearly trip to the beach, it was always so cold on the coast.

Your family were all gathered outside by the car as Bin pulled up in an Uber. He stepped out and grabbed his bag. Your mother cheered and rushed towards him, pulling him into a warm embrace, which he returned with a big smile. Your father patted Bin on the back as he approached the van. Your parents always treated him as their own. 

Your brother folded down the back row of seats so Bin could fit his luggage in with the rest of yours, and you internally groaned as you realized that the three of you would have to squish together in the middle seats. 

You all settled into the car and were on the highway, you squished between your brother and his giant of a best friend, headphones on, trying to ignore the fact that Bin’s knee was so close to your own, his leg was practically on top of yours.

After two painfully awkward (at least for you) hours in the car, you were finally pulling up to the beach house. You stepped outside of the car, taking your first deep breath in hours, the cold air almost painfully filling your lungs. You stared up at your grandparents house that you’ve spent every New Year’s of the past 20 years in, letting out a quiet laugh as you remembered all the mischief you and your brother used to get into during those days.

You walked around to the back of the van to grab your suitcase out of the trunk, only to find Bin standing there, holding it out for you, his backpack slung over one shoulder. You mumbled out a quiet “thanks” as you took the handle from him. The two of you started up towards the house, trailing behind your parents in an awkward silence. Bin turned his head towards you and started to open his mouth before your brother came barreling at you two from behind, slinging an arm over each of your shoulders.

“You two ready to get fucked up tonight?” He giggled, referring to the several bottles of alcohol that he had brought in his bag. You and Bin shared an amused glance before you ascended the long staircase up to the house, hoisting your suitcase up with you. You probably should’ve brought a backpack.

“I think I’ll pass.” You sighed as you lugged up the stairs. “I’ve got to finish a paper before I go back to campus in a few days.”

“You know, you’ve somehow gotten less fun since you started uni.” Your brother huffed. You rolled your eyes at him as you continued to struggle with your suitcase. Bin, seemingly tired of your huffing and puffing, wordlessly took the suitcase from your hands, leaving you dumbfounded as he and your brother continued up the stairs. You stared in shock at how easily Bin carried your heavy suitcase, and you came to the sudden realization that he looked much more broad than the last time you saw him.

You shook your head as if to clear it and rushed up the stairs to catch up to the two boys.

Once you’d all gotten settled into the house and claimed your bedrooms, you and your mother got started on dinner. You’d gotten started on chopping and peeling various vegetables for the stew your mom always made on New Years, when none other than Bin sidled up to you, leaning on the counter, observing your hands as they peeled a potato.

You glared at him through the corner of your eye as you continued peeling the potato in your hands. You could practically hear the smug look on his face as he leaned just a little closer. You sighed in frustration and set the potato and peeler down, turning to face Bin, who was smirking at you. “Can I help you?”

He rolled his eyes and poked you in the side, causing you to jump back a bit, which allowed him to stand where you were and take your place chopping and peeling vegetables.

“Just as annoying as I remember you.” You sighed and crossed your arms, leaning on the counter as Bin had done previously. You watched Bin as he chopped the now peeled potato, and you realized now that he’d rolled the sleeves of his sweater up, that your previous observation of him being broader than before had been nothing short of an understatement. He was ripped. You supposed your brother had been dragging Bin to the gym with him since they started university. You couldn’t take your eyes off his arms as they flexed while he chopped. You could see his muscles working, veins popping out, but his skin still looked so soft-

You glanced up at Bin’s face to see him looking down at you smugly. You quickly turned your head away from him so he wouldn’t see your reddening face. You heard him chuckle from behind you and the scraping of the knife as he discarded the potato peels into the trash.

“So…” You turned to face him again as he spoke, but you deliberately avoided looking at his arms. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been alright. Living life, you know?”

He nodded as he started on a carrot, not before rolling up the sleeve of his sweater a little bit higher, causing you to glance down at it. You could see him smirk again.

“That’s good. You made many friends yet?”

“A few.”

“They haven’t figured out how annoying you are yet?”

You rolled your eyes and lightly smacked his bicep, which you regretted doing as soon as you felt how firm the muscle there was.

“Any boyfriends…or girlfriends?”

“...I’m focusing on my degree right now.”

Bin looked like he was about to say something before your mother stepped in and started fussing over him. 

“Now Binnie, why are you cutting those vegetables? You should be relaxing.”

“Just trying to help out, mom.”

You rolled your eyes when he referred to her as “mom”. You always hated when he did that, and he knew it, judging by the look he gave you after he said it. You walked away from the kitchen and towards the staircase that led upstairs, giving one more passing glare to Bin, who just gave you yet another smug grin as you walked past.

When you arrived in your room on the upper level of the house, you immediately walked towards your bed and flopped down face first into your pillow, once you did, you let out a muffled scream of frustration.

You really thought your crush on Bin was gone. You thought that you just had a crush on him because he was older, and taller, and more experienced. And you thought that now you yourself were older, taller, and more experienced, you would be unaffected by him. But clearly, you were wrong. Why did he have to get buff? Why did his face have to get more handsome? You might’ve just been seeing things, but you were pretty sure he’d gotten even taller since you’d last seen him.

You didn’t know how long you’d been wallowing over your crush, but soon enough, your already tipsy older brother burst into your room to tell you that dinner was ready.

Dinner itself was fairly uneventful, your brother drank nearly an entire bottle of wine, you kept your eyes firmly on your stew so you wouldn’t look up and make unintended eye contact with Bin, who was sat across from you. And of course, your parents fawned over Bin and praised him for going off to a prestigious foreign university for his graduate degree.

After dinner, you volunteered to do the dishes, and Bin immediately offered to help. You tried to decline, but with your mother praising him for how much of a nice young man he was, you figured it was a losing battle.

“So, no boyfriend?”

“Bin, that is the second time you’ve asked me.”

“And?”

“Still no.”

Again, you could practically hear his smirk.

You resisted the urge to splash soapy water on him as you handed him another bowl to dry.

“You know,” he started as he put the bowl away in the cupboard, “you’re a lot different than I remember you.”

“How so?” You handed him another bowl.

“Well, you’re not as short, for one.”

This time, you did splash soapy water on him. Which was definitely a mistake, since after he was done swearing at you, he turned his back to you and removed his sweater, leaving him in just a white t-shirt, which appeared to be a little bit small for him as it hugged his back just enough for you to see the outline of the well-toned muscles.

You quickly averted your eyes as he turned back around, this time handing him a handful of spoons.

As soon as the two of you were done with the dishes, you wordlessly retreated to your room, passing by your parents and brother in the living room who were working on another bottle of wine while watching a movie on the TV.

Once you made it to your room, you took a deep breath and sat cross-legged on your bed, taking your laptop out of your bag and deciding to actually try to get to work on your paper. This proved to be a struggle, since every other word seemed to remind you of the tall handsome man downstairs.

You couldn’t tell how long you’d been staring at your computer screen, but when you heard a gentle knock on the door, you glanced at the clock on your screen which read “11:15 PM”.

You groaned as you stood up from the bed, stretching your stiff limbs before opening the door.

You were taken aback when you saw Bin standing there, wearing a puffy jacket and holding a beer in each hand.

“Come on, we’re gonna go for a walk.”

You stared at him incredulously for a second. “That…sounds like a threat?”

He rolled his eyes, handed you one of the beers, and gestured for you to follow him downstairs. You hesitated for a second, looking back at the laptop on your bed before sighing and following.

You glanced into the living room as you walked past, and saw your brother passed out on the couch, leaning on your dad’s shoulder as he and your mom watched the TV.

Bin waited patiently by the front door for you as you put on your boots, coat, and scarf. As soon as you were done, he opened the door and wordlessly gestured for you to go out.

The walk to the beach was short, but silent. You wondered what was going through Bin’s mind as the two of you walked along the sand. Even with the loud crashing waves of the ocean beside you, your mind was anything but quiet. You found yourself staring at Bin’s face as you walked beside him. His jawline had gotten sharper, you noticed, and he definitely was a bit taller.

“You’ve been staring at me all night, you know.”

You paused and quickly looked down at your sand-covered boots. “No, I haven’t.” You lamely lied, immediately cringing at yourself.

You heard him chuckle beside you as the two of you continued on.

Eventually, Bin stopped walking. The two of you were far enough down the beach for the lights of the beach house to be a small speckle in the distance, and the small town down the highway just close enough to where you could see the lights on the boardwalk.

“So…” Bin opened his beer, “no boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you could’ve sworn you felt them stick for a second. “For the third and final time, Bin; no. I do not have a boyfriend. You can stop judging me.” You opened your beer and took a long sip. You had a feeling you were going to need it.

“Okay, well, that one wasn’t a question. It was a statement. And for your information, I’m not judging you. I don’t have a girlfriend, either.”

You felt your heart jump at that, but you shook your head in false pity. “Why not? Haven’t found a girl willing to put up with you yet?”

He scoffed and took a sip of his beer, shaking his head.

“Nah, I just haven’t found one I really want to be with.”

“Well, what type of girl do you want to be with?”

“You tell me what type of guy you want to be with, and I’ll tell you what type of girl I want to be with.”

You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath, not sure if you were willing to play this game. And yet, you did. “I just want a guy who’s not a total dickhead to me. Someone my family likes, someone my friends like, someone who’ll give me space to breathe, and encourages me to complete my education and have my own career.”

You looked up at Bin, expecting him to be smugly smirking down at you as he typically did, but instead, he was looking at you softly, almost warmly.

“What about you?” You quickly asked in a lame attempt to ease the tension.

He huffed out a laugh, taking another sip. “I don’t know. Maybe someone who I’ve known for a while. I don’t like the idea of getting into a relationship with someone I don’t know well.”

You took a sip in an attempt to conceal the rising blush on your face.

“And maybe…someone I can poke fun at. Not in a mean way, you know? Just someone I can joke around with.”

You could feel his eyes on you, and you were hoping it was dark enough so he couldn’t see how red your face had gotten.

“It’s almost midnight.” You said, looking up at the sky to see if you could spot any distant fireworks.

Bin didn’t say anything, but you could still feel his eyes were fixated on you. You took a deep breath and looked up at him, meeting his eyes. You couldn’t describe the look on his face if you tried. He’d never looked at you like that before. No one had ever looked at you like that before.

“What?” You asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Still, he said nothing, but you jumped in place as you felt his hand slip into yours, entwining your fingers.

“Your hands are cold.” He breathed out, his eyes not leaving yours.

“Yeah, well, it’s cold out.” You couldn’t break the eye contact.

The two of you stood in silence for what felt like an hour. You couldn’t decipher the look on his face, but every now and again, his eyes would flit down to a lower spot on your face. The vague question of why he would be looking at your nose flowed through your mind before the two of you were startled by a loud bang.

The two of you looked over towards the town, and saw fireworks lighting up the sky.

You looked back up at him, his eyes finding yours a moment later.

“Happy new year.”

He gave you a small smile before looking down at his feet. “You know, there’s this tradition that people do at midnight on new years.I don’t know if you’ve heard of it.”

Your heart started beating faster. “I think I know what you’re talking about.”

You held your breath as Bin’s hand left yours and moved up to your cheek. You saw his eyes scanning your face for a moment before slowly leaning in. You closed your eyes, expecting to feel his lips on yours, but he stopped. You could feel his warm breath on your face, and you opened your eyes to see him looking down at you hesitantly.

You breathed out before taking in another deep breath and bringing your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down the rest of the way.

Your stomach fluttered in a way that you’d never felt before. You wrapped your other arm around Bin, prompting him to do the same. You’d kissed your fair share of men, even a few girls, but none of them had made you feel the way that Bin was making you feel. You felt like your heart was about to burst out of your chest the way it does in cartoons. You two could have been standing there wrapped in each other for hours, and neither of you would have noticed. You could only think of each other, you could only feel each other.

Eventually, the two of you pulled away for breath. You made eye contact for a split second before you turned your eyes downward, feeling your face heat up again at the way he looked at you. He chuckled at your embarrassment and pulled you closer to him, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“You know,” he started, voice muffled as he pressed his face into your neck, “I think I love you.”

You held in the giddy giggle that threatened to escape, and instead pressed your face into his shoulder. “Well, I know I love you. I have for a long time.”

Bin pulled away from your neck, prompting you to look up at him. He looked down at you, giving you another smug grin. He let out a teasing “ooh”, giggling as you hid your face in your hands.

“You just had to ruin it like that.” You groaned. Bin giggled again, pulling your hands away from your face and leaning down to give a gentle peck to your nose.

“You know I love you.”

“I do now.”