#but no he turned out to be the biggest dick of the fucking century

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

i beg your fucking pardon?

[luvrsofbts]

Hey can I request an angst FWB scenario with Yoongi or Jungkook like he's a complete fuckboy flirting with other girls in front of the reader and the reader ends things or ignores them you can decide the ending

It Ends With Us

Pairing: Fuckboy!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fwb, angst, no happy ending

Warnings: heavily suggestive (18+), curse words, jungkook’s a jerk but also sooo at the same time smh

Summary: You two were just friends with benefits, so why did it get to you so much?

-

You remember the day when Jungkook proposed the idea of you two being friends with benefits. You were a stressed student in college and needed to let loose sometimes. Luckily, you had Jungkook, who you met in your freshman year of college, to help you out.

You were kind of unsure about the idea, Jungkook being the biggest fuckboy of the century, but he was also a close friend to you, so you trusted him. Plus, with the deal, he promised he wouldn’t get in other girl’s pants since he proposed the idea and wanted to be fair with you.

Jungkook wasn’t the type to get into serious relationships. He would dick someone down and then move onto another the next day. You admit that you blossomed a small crush on him when you two first met, but after knowing what he was like and having your friends tell you about his fuckboy life, you decided to leave it alone, not wanting to get hurt.

Now, here you were, watching Jungkook shamelessly flirt with another girl right in front at you. You don’t know how you ended up here. One minute you were studying with your friend, Taehyung, next thing you know you’re dragged to this party hosted by Jimin, a friend of Tae’s and Jungkook.

You didn’t think Jungkook would be here, after he specifically texted you at 6:18pm that he couldn’t grab fro-yo with you since he had a “family thing”. Now, you know what that “family thing” was.

“What the fuck,” You whispered to yourself as you saw the girl Jungkook was with, laughing and feeling all up on him and his muscles, Jungkook doing nothing about it rather than enjoying the attention he was getting and having a hand squeezed on her ass.

Has he been doing this behind your back for awhile? You don’t know why you got so heated. You two were just friends with benefits, so why did it get to you so much? Even though, Jungkook promised that he wasn’t going to get into other girl’s pants, and you were 101% sure he was going to get into the girl he was with, pants, tonight due to how close they were.

Walking away and grabbing a random cup in the kitchen, you bumped into the person who dragged you to this party, Taehyung.

“Hey, you good?” He slurred, clearly drunk out of his mind.

“Fine,” You gave a short answer, “Are you good?” You asked, your anger subsiding a bit, giggling as you saw what state he was in.

“Yeah, man. I’m so lit right now!” Tae laughed, throwing his hands in the air and swinging his hips side to side, “Are you sure you’re good though? I can sense you’re a bit upset right now,”

You’re not sure why you’re upset, to be honest. Jungkook was a fuckboy, you should’ve seen this coming. Guess you were just too lost in the moment.

“I’m okay, thank you for asking though. Now, let’s get you seated and some water,” Taking Taehyung by the hand, you squeezed past the tight crowd and finally got to the sofa. You didn’t realize that you were just a few seats away from Jungkook, too occupied with Tae and taking care of him.

“Stay here. I’m gonna go get you some water,” You shouted out to Tae over the loud music, which he just nodded in response, already falling asleep.

You stood up, turning around when you spotted Jungkook and the girl he was with, in a full on heated makeout. That quickly spiked up your anger, making you feel betrayed and lied to.

“What the fuck is this?!” You shouted to Jungkook, letting your emotions take over you.

He parted from the girl he was with, shocked to find you here. “Y/N, baby- what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? What are YOU doing here? Mr “sorry babe, won’t be able to grab fro-yo with u. Got a family thing tonight. I’ll see u this wknd tho”. Why would you lie to me?” You continue to shout, feeling more and more anger bubble up inside of you.

“Jungkook, who is this?” The random girl ask, leaning into his side.

“Oh fuck off,”

“Y/N- stop. Why are you getting so worked up for?” Jungkook asked calmy, seeing no problem to this.

“So worked up for? What the fuck do you mean, Jungkook? You know we had a deal going on, yet here you are, sucking some other girl face,”

“Babe-”

“No, fuck you,” You spit, “And fuck you too,” You said to the girl before turning around and walking out of the party.

-

Walking home, you were overthinking like crazy. Why did you act that way to Jungkook? You didn’t like him, did you? No, you agreed on that a long time ago, so why did it hurt so bad to see him with another girl? Feeling embarrassed and tired, you decided to sleep these thoughts off, wanting to be at peace.

The next morning, you woke up to a spam of texts.

y/n ??

princess

i’m sorry

don’t ignore me pls

let’s meet up and talk

i messed up

i’m coming over

The last message was sent at 9:20am, and as you checked the time, it was now 9:32am.

Right as you got out of bed, you heard your doorbell ring with pounds on the door.

“Y/N?? Are you in there? Open up and let’s talk, please,” Jungkook said behind the door.

Once again, your emotions got to the best of you, resulting in you opening the door.

“Baby, I was worried sick about you,” He sighed in relief, attacking you in a tight hug.

Your arms stayed still, “What are you doing here, Jungkook?” You huffed, angry once again as you think about last night.

“I missed you. I also came to say I’m sorry. That girl means nothing to me, I promise,”

“Yeah, right. You also promised me that you wouldn’t be sticking your dick in other girls, yet what I saw last night proved me wrong,”

“C’mon, Y/N. You know you’re my only girl,” Jungkook whispered onto your skin as he started leaving small kisses down your neck.

“Fuck,” You softly moaned, closing your eyes and leaning back, exposing your neck more.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” He smirked, leaving marks all over your neck as he slid his right arm under your shirt and started playing with your tits.

“N-no, Jungkook, we can’t,” You sighed in pleasure, trying to push him off.

“Shhh, just enjoy it,”

“N-no. Stop, Jungkook. Stop!” You shout, pushing him away from you.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Jungkook raised his voice, breathing heavily.

“My problem?! What the fuck is yours? You can’t just makeout with some random girl at a party and then come to me the next day,” You glared at him.

“Well I’ve been doing it for awhile, what’s the problem now?”

You felt your breath get caught in your throat.

“No, you don’t mean that,” Tears started to form in your eyes, why were you going to start crying now?

“Yeah. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on,” He chuckled, shaking his head lightly.

Your whole body was shaking in anger at this point. You just wanted to slap the smirk off his pretty face.

“So, you were just using me? I thought you were my friend, Jungkook,”

“Oh, baby… you were just another girl,” Jungkook whispered as he took your face into his hands, that same smug smirk still plastered on his pretty face.

“Fuck you!” You shouted, pushing him away from you once again. “Get out! Get out and never talk to me again. You’re a fucking jerk!”

With that, Jungkook left, leaving you nothing but a broken heart.

[euijoosorangeslice]

Ok but we really need to talk about Harua and Taki if you were to suck them off in public?! Like a bathroom stall in a strip mall.

harua and taki smut under the cut!

Harua would fold almost instantly at the gravity of your situation, just looking into your eyes would probably have him spilling into your mouth. As soon as your tongue touches his tip, he’ll probably try and close his legs half out of embarrassment and the other half out of pleasure. When you force his legs back open, he’ll just grab on to the wall as you force his cock down your throat. He wants to be worried about you hurting your throat but he rather just fuck it. So vocal it’s actually embarrassing, letting out the softest and girliest moans every time your mouth feels just right. Someone walking into the bathroom? He will try to cover his mouth but he’s just feeling too good now to stop. When he finally cums, the post nut clarity would hit like a truck and he’d immediately apologize for not warning you. You’d just giggle and watch him zip up his pants, completely embarrassed by your effect on him.

Taki wants you guys to get caught so bad it physically hurts him. Biggest exhibitionist of the century. When you start to pump his cock with your fist he’d let out a series of grunts, squinting his eyes closed as tight as possible. As soon as he opens them and sees your teary eyes and your mouth stretched across his dick, slob dripping down the corner of your mouth he’d start whining. “M-maybe just a little more, yeah?” He would start to panic by the way your head was moving so quickly. Taki wouldn’t want to cum so quick but god your gargling on his cock is doing all of the right things. He’d grip the door so hard that his knuckles turn white. “Oh god, please! I’m gonna cum, your mouth is so fucking wet.” You wouldn’t slow down the pace, watching his thighs shake aggressively as he finished in your mouth. Sticking your tongue out to show him his own doing, he would put on the fattest smirk, petting your hair. “Be a good girl and swallow.”

[tswhiisftteedr]

Hello You could do one of Adam (top) x male reader bottom top, with Adam having gay panic, with the reader being the submissive but at the same time the active one.

Gay Panic ☆ Oneshot

Adam x Winner!Male!Reader:

After encountering the first man himself at a heaven party, you find yourself being in quite the confrontational scenario. Will Adam come to terms to the reason behind his jerkiness towards you? And will you get something out of this originally annoying encounter? Only time will tell…

Words: 2354

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, No sex but very much graphic description of a sexual fantasy, Homophobia & Internalized Homphobia, Adam forced realizing he likes man, Bad writing, NOT PROOFREAD.

Note: So I don’t do male reader smut(amab, trans ftm reader is fine tho) so this doesn’t have sex per say but it’s basically reader being a horny little shit and telling Adam how they want to be fucked by him or how they jerked off to the thought of him, so it’s graphic but no actual sex. Also I went for a winner instead of a sinner.

Author Note: I took a big break from writing so idk if my style changes or I got better/worst, so I hope you guys still like it.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

It had been a little while since you passed through the big gate in the sky—less than a year, but more than a month.

Truthfully, life up here had been pretty cushy. After all, it’s heaven; it’s supposed to be. But this surpassed all your expectations about the ‘good version of the afterlife.’ Everything was just so heavenly.

In addition to the comfortable living arrangements, life in heaven was genuinely fun, especially the parties. You might have thought a place devoid of all earthly substances would be dull, but it turned out to be amazing. Sure, the vibe was different from your standard 20th-century terrestrial party, but it was no less enjoyable.

One noticeable change was the attention you received from the ladies at these events. Your striking looks, overall charm, and handsome personality made you irresistible to any damsel, whether on earth or high in the heavens.

Though you didn't return the sentiment, as you leaned more towards men in terms of attraction, it never stopped the feminine crowd from fawning over you or the jealous ‘dude bros’ from pestering you. Beauty really is a curse, huh?

Speaking of ‘dude bros’, the biggest one was currently approaching you with an angry stomp as you stood in your secluded corner, sipping a virgin piña colada after finally escaping your female admirers.

He looked rather pissed off, and from what you’d heard about him and his entitled personality, you had a pretty good idea why he was so infuriated.

"You think you're some hotshot or something?" Adam spat out as he towered over you, his gold-tinged eyes narrowed into slits.

"Excuse me, what?" You questioned THE Man, feigning surprised at his sudden appearance despite the fact he was making a very obvious beeline towards you a second ago.

"Yeah, you heard me. Just because you’ve got some bitches flocking around like fleas makes you think you’re a big deal or something." He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and scoffing.

"But let me tell you the truth, assface, you're not. You're just some little guy who, at the end of the day, is nothing compared to the big dick in charge—me, Adam!" He leaned in closer, practically in your face, and let out a chuckled, though it sounded rather hollow—a desperate attempt to mask his envy.

He eyed the piña colada in your hand with disdain, watching your facial expression, waiting for an answer.

"Oh, then why did you walk up to me all red, hot, and bothered? If it isn’t jealousy towards me, then maybe... it could be that.. you want me, Adam. Is that it? Does the first man want to touch me?" You stepped closer, getting in his face now. "To fuck me." You traced your fingers up your body to accentuate your words then moved to lightly sliding them down his chest as you continued, "Because I wouldn’t be opposed to it; taking that dick of yours, letting you ravage my body as your sexy guitarist's hands get to explore every inch of mine, letting you stroke my cock, and finally, cumming together—your hot semen deep inside my tight ass. Well, that doesn't sound like a bad way to end a Friday night."

You could see his brain short-circuiting—he wanted to maintain his toxic alpha male facade, but your description of the potential intercourse had him feeling really hot.

After gathering himself, he finally shot out a: "Fuck you, that's gay," before basically running away, his face still beaming red, and his below-the-belt area definitely not opposed to the proposed evening.

You snickered to yourself and enjoyed the rest of the night as you pleased.

A week had passed since that party, and today was your first day at the Bureau of Heavenly Affairs. Sure, working in heaven wasn’t necessary at all—it was completely voluntary—but for some reason, helping Heaven with its legislation seemed like a fulfilling way to spend your afterlife. And worst-case scenario, you could quit with no repercussions.

So while there was some slight underlying anxiousness, you were confident in yourself—after all, you had passed the interview with flying colors! You were ready for everything—well, except coming face to face once more with that egotistical yet devilishly handsome piece of shit known as Adam.

During your first meeting, he had come out of nowhere to berate you because he was feeling insecure and jelly. Therefore, you wondered how he would react to seeing you in this setting and, more importantly, how he would react after realizing you were not a visitor but a new coworker.

Your bets were on the negative, and you were right. As soon as he spotted you, he came straight over, demanding answers in a very angry tone. Though it didn’t escape your notice that he did a blushing double-take after recognizing you before he eventually approached.

"Why the hell are you here?"

Without batting an eye, you replied, "Well, you're looking at this Bureau’s newest employee. Figured I'd help y'all run this place a bit more smoothly. i happen to be quite could when it comes to legislation, so might as well put my talents to good use, right? You're welcome."

Adam stared at you for a moment, looking like he couldn't form a response, probably because confronting you at a party in a drunken haze was one thing, but this was entirely different. Despite him being your superior in a professional environment, your actually professionalism compare to his half-assed one, clearly threw him off balance.

Gasping for air, he finally uttered, "Well I don’t want you here, I never gave you the permission to work here. Who do you think you..." His voice trailing off, Adam appeared to be in a state of disarray.

"Easy there, champ. I was interviewed by Sera herself. She thought my skillset was perfectly aligned with what the Bureau needed and decided to give me a chance. I guess the big boss lady had faith in my abilities and that count’s for way more than what you might or might not want," you interjected, raising an eyebrow and folding your arms, mimicking his previous stance.

Seeing a hint of red creep back into Adam's cheeks, you couldn't help but feel a surge of inner satisfaction. After all, he was the one who made a scene at the party and approached you today, and now he had to swallow his pride, possibly realizing that you were, in fact, untouchable in this environment.

As the tension between the two of you ebbed, Adam slowly regained his composure, although his resistance was still evident. "Fine. Whatever, make sure you don't fuck up, or there will be consequences." He returned to his office, not meeting your gaze and leaving you with a smirk on your lips.

Time passed by quickly as work ensued, you adjusting seamlessly into the bureaucracy, and, as expected, Adam's constant snide comments and micromanaging became part of your daily routine.

What was less expected, however, was the way his attitude shifted mere seconds after every encounter. As if invisible forces of shame and lust clung to him, haunting him long after your interactions. Wordlessly, Adam began to find excuses to approach you, always lingering for far too long, unable to keep his gaze from sweeping on your body.

From your point of view, he was constantly looking at you, and why he was behaving this way—you were not quite sure.

Surely he didn’t view you as a threat anymore when it came to women, so why was he acting like that? You entertained the idea that maybe that jackass, instead of being completely infuriated with you, was perhaps just into you.

It was almost laughable to think about: Adam, first man and number one dirtbag, who loved to boast about how much ‘pussy he crushes’, having a little crush (or at least a sexual attraction) on you—absolutely grotesque.

Well, that’s what you had thought for the longest time. But as unpredictable as things always were, your notion of reality was shattered just a couple of months into the job.

Today was the first work party you had decided to attend. There had been a few over the last four months, but each time, you just didn’t feel like going.

The party setting brought back a surge of memories, especially about a certain attending guest. You sighed to yourself just thinking about it, then give your attention back to your surroundings.

The room swarmed with laughter and the sounds of clinking glasses as employees mingled, sharing stories from work and enjoying the festivities. Despite the atmosphere, you clung to the edge of the dance floor, pretending to enjoy your non-alcoholic drink while observing from afar.

Adam, as the centerpiece of attention, lounged in the middle of the unit, his 'followers' hanging onto his every word. It didn't take long for him to spot you, and in an instant, he abandoned his conversation, stalking towards you with the swagger of the peacock that he was.

"It's too bad, really. I was hoping I wouldn't have to see your ugly mug and that you would've skipped tonight's party just like the others." he sneered, towering over you.

"Isn't it funny how things works." you replied, smirking without taking your eyes off him.

He rolled his eyes at your sarcasm and attempted to assert his dominance. "Still the same cocky attitude, huh? Well, listen up, because I'm saying it again. You better stay in your little corner and keep to yourself like your currently doing, I don’t want your fucking anything up tonight, or I'll make it my personal mission to punish you for it.." He leaned closer, trying to intimidate you.

But this time, you weren't ready to let his aggressive moves slide. You placed your glass on a nearby table, locking eyes with him, and speaking in a low, sensual voice, "Oh, is that so, big man? Hmm? I do wonder what kind of punishment someone like you would inflict on poor little ol’ me, especially considering how much of an eccentric asshole you are." You begin to transition to a more serious tone. "I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it’s something along the lines of a ‘private talk’ in that soundproof office of yours, or perhaps public humiliation." You then jump back into a teasing tone. "Oh yeah, that would get your rocks off for sure. Now listen here, pal. I don’t know why you have so much beef with me. I do my job and leave you the fuck alone, but somehow you always come by to be a little shit to me. It almost makes me wonder if you actually want me." Then, back to sensual. "Is that it? Do you have some kind of insatiable desire for me you're harboring deep down inside?”

A dashing blush spread across his cheeks, revealing the truth beneath the façade. Though he didn't respond immediately, you could see the veins in his neck twitching, hinting at the internal turmoil raging within him.

Finally, his voice came out strained, "Fuck you, I'm not like you."

"Like me?" you raised an eyebrow. "What could you ever mean by that, 'Adam'?" You inquired, placing special emphasis on his name, pronounced with a sultry tone.

"You know what I mean, you little bitch.” He says, pauses, then let’s out, “Gay. You’re fucking gay is what I mean.”

Totally unimpressed, you reply, “Yes, I’m gay. I thought we already went over that the day we met.” You roll your eyes.

“But then, what does that make you? You keep insisting that you're not, so what’s the reason behind your constant pestering? And I won’t accept just a ‘I don’t like you’ because your ass has been not only annoying but also permanently looking at me since I started working here. Even when you’re in your office, I can see you glancing through the blinds. So, what are you if not gay as fuck for me?” you question in a determined manner.

Adam's cheeks flushed deeper, the rage that usually bubbled up in him hampered by the your words. Your challenge, struck a nerve he had worked tirelessly to hide.

His voice was weak when he reluctantly answered, "I don’t know, you’re just annoying and kind of a...pussy," he managed to spit out before clenching his jaw and looking away in disgust.

You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his reaction, your voice deepening as you spoke. "Really, is that all that the ‘First Man’ gots to say?"

Adam's fists clenched and unclenched involuntarily, a gaze drifting over your body as your chest heaved with every breath you took. The syrup-like richness of your voice dripped through the gaps of his metal-tough facade, exposing cracks that could never be fully mended.

Your smirk broadened, your assertiveness leaving no room for denial. You knew you had him stuck and while you mentally processed that he did, actually, want you—what a shocker, first man wants some dick.

At that, you take a deep breath and gamble, “Listen, asshole, I’ll let you pound my ass in right now if you admit that you want me and apologize for how you’ve treated me so far.”

“Fuck you, I ain’t apologizing for shit,” Adam instinctively retorts, though he doesn't deny your offer.

“What was that?” you warn.

“I said I ain’t apologizing,” he repeats, and with that, you respond, “I guess I’ll just see myself off then. Guess you really didn’t want to fuck me.”

With that, Adam lets out a huff, then quickly says, “Yes, I want you, and I’m sorry for being an ass.” followed by an exasperated “You fucking happy now?!”

“Yes, very. Though we will need to work on that language of yours.” you reply teasingly and grab one of his wrists, dragging him into a random vacant room, which coincidentally happens to be his soundproof office. ‘How lucky is that?’

Let’s just say, as soon as that door closed, clothes were off, and you two did way more than have a ‘private talk.’

Thanks anons for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

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[bluiex]

i put it in google docs to check the word count it’s a bit over 1000 words so that’s fun, but without further ado, i present:

funny things i have read in smut:

“Then he hit the bundle of nerves that fanfic readers are all too familiar with.”

“Luckily he is also a slippery motherfucker.”

“inexperienced in the art of giving giant people hand jobs.”

“Getting cock blocked my a church!”

“I’m not a food (name)”

“unsure why (name) was treating him like he was at the dentist”

“Also when they arrived (name) threw a plushie at them, hitting (name) square in the face.”

“I-uh I wh-uhm I”

“Breed! Breed! Breed! Mate! Mate! Mate!”

“(name) smiled “sure just don’t kill me””

“(name) would probably just scold them and then offer some advice and (name) would probably just laugh and offer to punch (name)’s stomach or some bullshit. “

“She then sauntered her way back to the over-eager man laying in an idiotic position on the bed, probably trying to be mock-seductive.”

“"What? Don't you like what you see?"”

“he let out a shaky breath and stood up straight(gay)”

“(name) finds out where all the missing orphans went, and no, it’s not Technoblade.”

“(very unimaginative for a nonhuman, what were his parents thinking?)”

“it was at that moment that (name) had internally asked himself three questions: am I really considering sex with a dragon? Is this really what my life has come to? Dragon fucking?”

“" Sorry gang I have to take the fattest piss in the whole year."”

“"I just don't think you are gonna be screaming pickles in the middle of fucking-"”

“Angry at (name) for even having the audacity to be alive and breathing.”

““Look, I’m your chambermaid not your chambertherapist,””

““I saw a man purchasing cocaine from another man.” He mentioned offhandedly.”

“"Fuck you" he responded, lowering himself to lay on the monsters chest and stomach.

'That's what your doing'”

“Author: Am eating cucumber”

“(name” smirked with delight, reaching down to poke at his cloaca”

“he got so many new experiences (yes, even beans on toast)”

“”did you just.. call me dude in a romantic way?”

““Were you expecting me to say ‘it’s dishonourable to attack when not ready!’?””

“(names) hands are shaking so much that he might actually shoot one of them in the foot. Which would seriously kill the mood.”

“Is he not also deserving of being a sexy pirate with huge tits?”

“He doesn’t know what he’ll do if (name) pulls away and starts talking again. Cry, probably.”

“sorry i was possessed by an evil spirit called homosexuality writing this”

“im normal *paces around my cage*”

“i need to fuck this himbo.”

“am I saying that gay sex is the solution to relationship problems? Absolutel- *dies*”

“and precisely nothing changes between Pearl and Scott.”

“the real fantasy here is having a shower that's big enough for more than one person lmao”

“not like he was thinking of boneing (name) or (name) anytime soon.”

“(name) has eaten (name) out (wow that's really a sentence I just typed)”

“Tea anon *shakes you like a maraca*”

“because holy hell (name) has got to have some absolutely incredible thighs”

“I know that we all universally agree that (name) has the biggest dick on the server”

“I just think they should fuck and it would solve all their problems. Or make them worse, but at least they’d have fucked <3”

““tiddies plz? May I have a face full of them?””

“(especially after he's been fucked into the next century by her-)”

“When he is satisfyied and (name) is a right mess and a little hard- (name) just leaves lmao”

“You have my utmost respect and love person who suggested it I will give you a handshake”

“Hi I have a headache the size of Texas but that doesn’t stop the Headcanons from plaguing me like visions.”

“(name) just walkin around butt ass naked, dick out :sobs: /pos”

“getting the fucked and bred into the next century-“

“"he's a fucking dumbass jesus christ i want to bear his children"”

“(name) lingered, because he was a simple man, and couldn’t turn down a chance to look at (name)’s ass. In his defence, it was not a bad choice. Man.”

“Not that burying his face in (name)’s tits was a bad time,”

“(name) slurred out a grumbling complaint, so far from any word that (name) was almost impressed.”

“(name), I am going to set you on fire, please.”

“(name) raised his eyebrows at (name)’ choice to not wear underwear. The man was truly feral sometimes.”

“This goes even harder (hehe)”

“Why do school work when imaginary men can fuck in our heads *gets run over*”

“Unfortunately, it covered all of (name)’s actual ass,”

“his eyes relaxing and focusing in on the much nicer view of (name)’s chest.”

““Are you saying that to me, or my boobs?””

“little panting sounds as he tried to remember how to breathe.”

“He needed to scream into a pillow, like, now. And then do other things with that pillow”

“She could talk to him however the fuck she wanted after riding him like that.”

“And my god if anyone saw his back they'd think he got attacked by a bear or something “

“(name)’s sense of time is a little – hah! – fucked right now.”

“resisted that dang mouth”

“(name) has two tits!”

“a worker is giving him a weird look for clearly having boner while staring at some bell peppers.”

“He really was a friend shaped nugget”

““If it's not a booty call I'm not interested,” “

“(name) bussy canonically has the power to unlock peoples closeted inner fruit”

“the glass was so fragile that gay sex was enough to shatter it”

“just waiting for (name) to calm down. (name) also waits for (name) to calm down.”

“and enjoy the ride””

“nor does (name) actually get off on being commanded to fuck. (well, he might. i've never asked.)”

““I’m at a vulnerable time in my species transition and you’re making sex slave jokes?””

““Well, stop being horny for five seconds and let me finish explaining.””

“Gotta have a weird gay thing going with at least one of your friends at all times.””

““Oh no, your dick is broken! I’m prescribing you blow jobs~””

“trying to look calm and collected. like a cucumber.”

“giving it the sloppiest toppy he could in his state.”

-🍞

“Breed! Breed! Breed! Mate! Mate! Mate!” I felt that. LOL

““Are you saying that to me, or my boobs?”” FAVE FAVE FAVE

[angel-eclairs]

Movie Night

Description - You and Hoseok acted in a movie together and you’re watching the movie premiere (au - actor)

Word Count: 820

BTS!Hoseok x f!reader

Warning: Slight edging, aftercare

Release date:

Old Account - 07-13-2021

This Account - 11-16-2023

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You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing non-stop with text messages. You grab phone and it’s hoseok. “Are you gonna be here on time?” “Are you even awake?” the text messages say. You think to yourself what is he talking about, you look at the calendar. “Oh shit!” you say, it’s the day of the movie premiere.

Luckily, you didn’t wake up too late. You shower and get ready and head to the premiere. This was the premiere of the biggest movie in centuries. Millions of people were there. You’re finding your way around and get a call from Hoseok. “Are you here?” he says. You respond and he tells you how to get to your seat.

You get to your seat and you and him have a private area since you two are the main actors of this big movie premiere. You sit down and talk with Hoseok waiting for the movie to start. While you talking you couldn’t help but look down at the open jacket Hoseok had on, with no shirt.

You zoned out. Hoseok called your name, he looks at you and asked,“What’s wrong is there something on my shirt?” you look at him and say no and look away from his eyes.. Halfway through the movie you can’t help notice Hoseok moving closer to you but you think nothing of it.

Before you notice Hoseok sits right next to you. You look at him you two are face to face. He looks you up and down and opens his jacket. He says “Isn’t this what you were looking at earlier?” flustered you look away and say “No why would I look down your shirt?” He grabs your chin and turns your head saying “Oh, come on princess you don’t have to lie to me.”

He smirks moving his hand to your throat. “How about we have a little fun throughout this movie?” He moves his other hand up your dress. “Oh wow” he says “Wet for me already, I see well why don’t we have fun with that pussy of yours.” he slowly puts his fingers inside you. He turns your face and makes you look at him while he fingers your pussy.

Holding your face to his he whispers in your ear “How about you do me a little favor as well princess, that is if you want.” He turns around teasing you because he knows exactly what you want. You turn to him and say “Can you please fuck me?”He looks and yousmirks “If you want me to fuck then get in front me and beg” he says.

He grabs your hand and pulls you over to him and you get on your knees and say “Please fuck me daddy I’m begging you”. He smirks and says “I can’t just fuck you I need a favor first and I think you know what it is.” you nod your head yes. He pulls out his dick and says “Get to work sweetheart.”

You swirl your tongue around the tip of his dick. You can see Hoseok throw his head back in pleasure. You put his dick in your mouth and go up and down. He whimpers from the pleasure of you deepthroating his dick. You go all the way down on his dick and swirl your tongue at the bottom and right before he cums.

He grabs your head and lifts it up, he smirks, wipes your mouth and says “Good job princess why don’t we get to the main part of the show?”. He grabs you by the waist and stands you up and stands up himself. He looks at you and says “Bend over the chair.” you look at him surprised and say “Will anyone see us?”

He smiles and bends you over the chair. He says “What if they do? More risk the better.” He inserts his rock hard dick inside of you. Not that you didn’t like it your body was aching for him. He pumps in and out of you. He bends down while fucking you and says “Your inside feels so good princess.”

He sits up and starts going faster and harder until he lets out his hot warm cum inside of you. He sits you up and grabs you by your face and says “Now wasn’t that fun?” you both put your clothes on and look around and the movie is done. He looks at you and says “Why don’t we go to my house and shower and eat?” you agree and you guys leave the theatre.

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I hope you guys enjoyed!

If you guys would like anymore stories you can request in the ask or submit section! Much love to you all! <3

[djemsostylist]

House of the Dragon has, in my humble, been exceptional television through the first 4 episodes. The writing was tight, focused, and well done, and the acting and directing were frankly superb. Not perfect, perhaps, because nothing ever is, but certainly better television than anything I've seen in years. To say I might be the tiniest bit obsessed would be an understatement (which a perusal of my tumblr/twitter tendencies lately would quickly prove) so...

Episode 5 was--to say a disappointment is perhaps too harsh, because there were individually excellent moments and scenes, and in general I agree with the events that occurred, but this was the first episode where I felt like the execution suffered.

Episode 5 felt like they needed things to happen and weren't entirely sure how, so they just kind of made it work.

(spoilers below the cut, for current and future episodes)

Rhea Royce's death is the first issue I had, because the scene itself felt less like an organic part of the story and more like Rhea had just finished catching up on eps 1-4 before she croaked. Daemon skulking around like Evil Kermit, her repeating dialog from episode 1 (did she get to see the council scene or something? why would she bring up the sheep fucking?), the horse spooking, and then her breaking her neck and using it as an opportunity to let us know she watches the Inside the Episode bits and snark instead of, you know, actually responding to the fact that she just got paralyzed. Her reaction just didn't feel like how a real person would react to that kind of trauma?

To be clear, I don't actually have an issue with Daemon committing wifeicide, provided it makes sense. Him skulking around a corner and then offing her bc she makes a dick joke seems--very television show-y? I'd have preferred him coming home to an already paralyzed wife, and she basically asks him to end it for her and Daemon's like "yeah sure why not." Or him just outright shoving her off a cliff or something. Ideally he wouldn't have been actually responsible for her death (history is full of people dying in accidents that no one saw coming upon which the entirety of history turns--Alexander the Great? Richard the Lionheart?) which imo is more interesting--if she hadn't died and he hadn't been freed to marry Laena and then Rhaenyra, how might things have been entirely different? (Also, Daemon hating his wife for forever but also not killing her bc even he has lines also is more interesting, but again. I don't object to the murder, I object to the weird tv show way in which it went down.)

My biggest issue with episode 5 was the entire party scene. Now look, look. The girly part of me, the Hand Flex™ from Joe Wright's P&P 2005 part of me, needed The Dance™ and The Dare™ but also the problem is that there is absolutely no way that conversation doesn't end with the two of them, at Dragonstone, married. Daemon "I'll ask my brother to his face to marry his daughter" Targaryen is absolutely not walking away from a Double Triple Dog Dare from his soulmate. No way. Especially not when said Triple Dog Dare is immediately followed by the THE distraction of the century and also he has a dragon. And he's especially not vanishing when Rhaenyra is about to get smushed by the crowd bc she is a very small person.

So the problem is that you write this scene you can't really get out of without, you know, altering history, so they just sort of disappear Daemon and then whoops ten years happens so alls well that ends well.

Now, I'd heard a theory (and my apologies bc I heard it second hand and therefore cannot give credit where it's due) that perhaps the Criston Cole fight started because of The Dance™. He's quietly been seething all night, then spots Daemon with Rhaenyra on the dance floor, puts two and two together and snaps. Starts in on Daemon, at which point Joffery (who is friendly with Daemon from the war) steps in, Rhaenyra calls out for Laenor, and Daemon is told to make himself scarce. Except Criston just shifts the focus to Joffery and well, murder happens. That at least explains why Daemon didn't just toss Rhaenyra over his shoulder Harwin style and leave the second everyone's attention was drawn, but also explains why, after ignoring Joffery initially, CC ends up beating him to death (with his fists, which was a little baffling, since he didn't have gauntlets and that damage was severe).

Ultimately, while I love both their confrontation, Viserys angrily eating his crab, and Harwin being unleashed, I also think they sort of wrote themselves into a corner they couldn't get out of, so they just sort of...dropped it. Daemon disappears, Joff gets his head caved in, and Rhaenyra gets saved by her future baby daddy. It's strange to say the least. (and I don't buy the idea that Daemon "ran away again". The man begged his brother for permission to marry her and apparently his sole takeaway from the convo was "you have a wife" so he literally went home to take care of that and then come back to claim his bride. I find it weird given both permission and literally the perfect opportunity, he would just pull a magical disappearing act. Sometimes we can chalk things up to purposeful ambiguity, sometimes it's just bad writing/editing. 🤷‍♀️)

Also found it weird Viserys went all the way to Driftmark to be like "hey can we marry Laenor, k thanks bye". If, say, they'd stayed at Driftmark to celebrate the engagement, and if say Daemon was already there bc he is besties with Corlys and co and went there after being sent away from Kings Landing instead of going to the Vale, then it would be the perfect chance to have The Dance™ and ALSO the perfect chance to have an interruption to said dance when a messenger brings the news that Rhea is dead and then Daemon is forced to go and Be An Adult and also probably a massive asshole at the same time. Also then I could have the melee I deserve where CC caves in Joff's head with a morning star and not his apparent adamantine fists, but I digress.

I did, by and large, enjoy the rest. I quite enjoyed the direction they went with Criston Cole--him asking Rhaenyra to run away with him makes a lot of sense for the character (the hate for him for this I attribute mostly to a lack of genre knowledge and a healthy dose of Modern Lens--he is naïve, perhaps, and a bit stupid, but his guilt and eventual move to the Greens makes a lot of sense if you understand knightly orders and the significance of his rise).

I loved Alicent's glow up, and her green dress scene. I completely understand her anger and betrayal, and frankly as much as I adore my stupid Targs, I also can't really blame her for hating them. They are insufferable and I adore them. (Also, again, I do feel like the Alicent hate, at least for show only watchers right now, comes from viewing her through a modern lens).

I loved Laena and Laenor, and I'm sad we will only get them for that episode and they'll be dead the next. Loved Corlys and Rhaenys, and I'm glad they will still be around.

Anyway, despite some questionable choices, I still am in love with this show (and have developed an embarrassing attachments to certain characters I didn't think I would) and I look forward to tomorrow's episode (and apologize in advance for the true embarrassment I am going to become after episode 7...)

[watchmegetobsessed]

THE DEAL

a/n: i literally wrote it in less than a day because i was inspired by a movie... of god, i have issues, but ANYWAYS! this one is a classic friends with benefits to lovers story with so much angst and a grandiose love confession at the end so buckle up, you are in for a treat!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEASE give feedback if you enjoyed it!!

pairing: Harry X Reader

warnings: some, drinking, sexual content, a hell lot of it, angst and messy emotions, it’s a lot!!

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

If your life was some romantic comedy his would be the moment where the camera would zoom on you, your eyes blankly glued to the ceiling, makeup from last night smudged under them as a muscular, inked arm gets thrown across your chest, a snoozing man beside you as you have the internal little monologue.

“You’re wondering how I got into this situation, right? Completely naked with one of my best friends after a night spent with heavy drinking and ending up fucking in his apartment until we both fell asleep.”

Yeah, this is probably what the voiceover would say as the camera would slowly get farther from you, Harry’s sleeping figure coming into the frame while you’re still lying like a damn statue. This was not supposed to happen. Not that it was bad, because oh God! Harry really is as good as his ex-girlfriends gushed to you when you met them on night outs. You could never blame the women for falling for him, he has the charm, the personality, the humor and definitely the looks. If you weren’t you, you’d be one of those girls who would do anything to get his attention just for a split second. But you’re not.

Growing up with a single mother that was repeatedly fucked over by several men, you were taught to be the kind of independent woman who needs no man. Who only uses them for whatever reason and throws them away before they could even realize what’s happening. Feelings could never be involved in the equations, those are just not for you.

For a while you thought you weren’t even capable of feeling anything at all. But the way you cried when your hamster you got for your sixteenth birthday died changed your mind and you realized that you are just saving yourself the time of allowing people to make you develop feelings for them and then give them the chance to break your heart. You’ve seen that happen to your mother enough times to know that you don’t want to go through that. It’s not worth it and why would you risk it all when you could easily get what you need and move on to the next one?

Your friends always joked how you’re gonna be the single aunt to their children later who would take them to clubs and honestly? You’re just fine with that. Because you always thought that while your married friends will be busy with keeping their marriage together with whatever pathetic man they chose to marry, you’ll be living your best life without a worry on the world. That sounds pretty good for you.

There’s no need to make it prettier than what it is, you’ve had a lot of hookups the past years but you always tried to keep yourself in check, have some kind of rules to follow so you don’t hurt yourself or anyone else in the process. One of those were that under no circumstances would you ever sleep with a friend. No matter how badly you want to, no matter if they are begging, it can never happen.

But you broke that rule.

Turning your head to the side you look at Harry’s sleeping face squished into the pillow and you almost wince, because you know that when he wakes up, this gonna hurt like a bitch. He’s gonna freak out, or what’s worse, he’ll want to take it further, take you out on a date… be in a relationship with you! And you’ll have to break his heart because none of those will ever happen.

You and Harry went to high school together and he is one of the very few people you stayed in touch after graduation. Though you grew a little apart when you went to different universities, later on you both somehow ended up in New York and while you’re working as a graphic designer at a magazine, Harry is making good money from writing music for other artists. He’s been one of your closest friends these past years and while you’ve always found him attractive, you should have never let this happen, because it will mess everything up and you didn’t want to lose such a good friend.

Harry stirs in his sleep next to you, his hand squeezing your side before his eyes blink open, green irises finding your wide eyes. He stops for a moment, looking around, taking in his surroundings before his eyes fall closed again.

“Wow, must have been one wild night?” he mumbles into the pillow before a raspy chuckle falls from his lips.

Last night, the two of you and a couple of your mutual friends celebrated that Harry has gotten his biggest deal so far, having to write an entire album for an up-and-coming artist, so you all got pretty wasted, especially you and him. It’s a little blurry how the two of you ended up like this, but you do remember wildly making out hidden somewhere behind the bar before he asked if you wanted to come to his place. You stupid little thing, should have said no…

Groaning, Harry rolls to his back, his arm falling from you as he lies sprawled out next to you.

“The tequila shots. Shouldn’t have had them,” you rasp out, a smirk tugging on his lips at your words. “So, um… we both can agree this was a one time thing, right?”

Harry peeks at you, pushing himself up a bit so his head rests against the headboard. The sheets slide down a bit lower on his body, revealing his toned chest and his several tattoos. Memories of you kissing them eagerly last night flash into your mind and you can only hope you’re not blushing like a school girl.

“What if I don’t agree?” Harry cocks an eyebrow and you almost groan. You knew this was going to happen!

“Harry, I’m not going out with you. You know me, I don’t do that. It’s nice that you think that it could work between us, but I don’t do relationships and I’m not changing my rules, not even for you.”

Harry starts laughing, as if you just said the best joke of the century, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. You give him a puzzled look as you sit up, holding the sheets to your chest.

“Who talked about dating, Y/N?” he then asks. “You said last night was a one time thing. We fucked last night. What if that wasn’t the only time we did that?”

You start to put the pieces together, though you’d definitely be sharper if you already had your first coffee of the day.

“Are you trying to start a… friends with benefits thing with me?”

“I mean, you could call it whatever you want. I personally really enjoyed last night and judging from the way you were screaming my name, you did too.” Now you’re for sure blushing. “Why not do it again?”

“This is not a movie, H. I don’t think it’s manageable without ruining our friendship.”

“Have you ever tried something like this?” You shake your head no. “Then how could you know?”

“Have you tried it?”

“Never,” he chuckles. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. We are both cool, smart people. I think we can give it a try and whenever someone is feeling like they had enough, we’re just gonna stop.”

“What if you catch feelings?” you ask, raising eyebrows at him.

“Oh, but what if you fall for me?” he throws the question back with a cocky smirk and you smack his naked chest.

“You know I never do that!”

“I don’t think you can just decide that, but alright,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense. “I promise you I won’t catch feelings for you, Y/N. I swear on my…”

“Your mom’s and sister’s life!” you point at him. It’s clear that he thinks it’s silly, but you just keep staring at him until he gives in.

“I swear on my mum’s and my sister’s life that I will not catch feelings for you, Y/N.”

“Alright. And we can end it anytime?”

“Whenever you’ve had enough of me,” he smirks back, so pleased with himself that it’s clear he doesn’t think that could ever happen.

“If you keep that cocky look on your face it’s gonna be a very short deal, Styles,” you warn him, but he just laughs before he quickly pulls you back down to bed, getting on top of you, his hips sinking between your legs and you gasp when you feel that he is already semi-hard.

“Why don’t we get a head start on it then?” he offers, his lips crashing against yours before they travel down your body and soon enough he gives you something that’s a thousand times better than a coffee in the morning.

At first you’re clearly hesitant about it. Not sure if it was a good idea or you just ruined everything between you and Harry, but soon enough you realize that it wasn’t as bad of a decision as you thought it to be.

Harry is the one to call you for the first time, two days after the night you drunkenly hooked up. You’re just leaving the office when he hits you up, asking if you have plans for the night or you’re free to go over to his place. An hour later you find yourself pressed up against the wall of his apartment’s hallway, both of you eager to get each other out of your clothes. Now that it all happens without either of you being drunk, you actually have the chance to think about how good it is with him. He is just the perfect mixture of dominant and soft, knows when to be the boss and when he has to slow down a bit.

He makes you cum three times. Three mind-blowing times, and you also give him two orgasms. You try to make it equal and make it three, but he respectfully says no.

“If you touched my dick again I think I would start crying,” he chuckles jokingly, so you don’t even think about pushing it.

Instead, the two of you order Chinese, have dinner together, talking like you always used to before the deal and then you go home. There’s no awkwardness, no weird situations, not even when you leave. Harry leans closer and for a moment you think he is gonna be corny and kiss you goodbye, but then you feel him smack your ass before pushing you out the door, just like he always did before, joking about how he is gonna charge you rent if you stay any longer.

Nothing has changed, only that you now spend a good chunk of your time together naked, moaning each other’s name before you get back to your usual.

So after that you don’t shy away from reaching out to Harry as well. It becomes a regular thing, the two of you meeting up about two of three times a week. You fuck, hang out a bit and go your separate ways. Slowly, you start to forget about times when you stayed dressed up for more than ten minutes after meeting Harry.

You keep switching between your and his place, but sometimes meet somewhere in the middle. You’ve had sex in a restaurant bathroom, in his car in a parking garage and even in his cousin’s place in Brooklyn. That was a bit odd but still quite pleasing.

Tonight is going to be the first time you’re gonna be out with all your friends and Harry since the deal was made. No one knows about it and you intend to keep it that way.

Once you’re done at work you head home, texting Leticia, another friend from high school to meet you at your place to get ready together. She was Harry’s friend at first, what’s better, she openly hated you at first for some reason.

“You just had a punchable face at fifteen, you can’t blame me,” she used to tell you. It was actually Harry who made the two of you friends and you’ve been close ever since.

You get to your apartment almost at the same time. Leticia starts rambling about her asshole of a boss at the law firm where she works at as you open a bottle of wine to start the evening while you roam through your wardrobe for an outfit.

“Is Leo coming? I owe him a few bucks from last time,” Leticia wonders, digging into your dresser for a pair of tights she can borrow to pair with her leather skirt.

“I think he is, but he is going to be late. He is coming from Staten Island from his dad’s,” you muse, checking yourself out in the red dress you just tried on, not quite pleased with the look, so you quickly work down the zipper and look for something else.

“Um, whose is this?”

Turning around you see that Leticia is holding up a shirt Harry left at yours a few days ago. She is clearly confused about the men’s clothing between your stuff, because you are not one to steal them from the men you sleep with since you don’t really want anything from them to remind you of them.

“Oh, um, that’s… That’s Harry’s. He left it here a few days ago,” you shrug, not making a big deal out of it, but Leticia is nosier than that.

“And why is Harry leaving his clothes around your place?”

“Is that a crime?” you snort, trying to play it cool.

“No, but in what kind of situation did this shirt come off of Harry and end up in your dresser?”

You can’t think of a good answer that would stop her from interrogating you, and the way you’ve just gotten silent is telling her more than words could. She drops the shirt, eyes widening at you and it’s clear that she put two and two together.

“Oh my God! You’re sleeping with Harry!”

“No! I’m… I just—We…”

“You two are totally fucking! What the fuck!” she gasps in complete shock as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Let me explain it, alright? W-We hooked up on the night when we went out to celebrate his big album deal.”

“When I couldn’t go, right?”

“Yeah. So we were both very drunk and it just happened. And I really thought it would ruin everything but we somehow ended up making a deal.”

“Jesus, you guys are acting out the Friends With Benefits movie? Who are you, Mila fucking Kunis?”

“It’s not like that!” you defend yourself quickly, but then you realize that it’s just like that so far. “Well, it kind of is, but the ending won’t be like that.”

“Do you really think you can just do it with absolutely no strings?” Leticia sighs, her hands coming to her hips as she stares back at you.

“It’s been going great, so I really think it’s doable. And if any of us decides they had enough, we’ll just call it quits.”

“Yeah, because it’s that easy,” she rolls her eyes. “One of you will catch feelings and someone is gonna end up crying, Y/N.”

“No, that’s not gonna happen,” you shake your head stubbornly. “He promised it won’t happen.”

“Feelings don’t give a shit about promises! I hope you really know what you’re doing, because I don’t want to have to choose between the two of you,” she grumbles before throwing Harry’s shirt back into the drawer, grabbing the tights she’s been looking for.

Leticia doesn’t hold a grudge for the news she just found out, but she surely has gotten you thinking. Is it really gonna end bad? Why can’t there be a scenario where it goes perfectly fine and no one gets hurt? Harry promised it’s gonna be alright and he has been proven right so far, so why are you having second guesses now?

Arriving at the bar the majority of your friend group is already there, including Harry. You sit across him in the small booth, just exchanging a quick smile before the first round arrives and the evening starts. You allow yourself to take a better look at him while he listens to Mitch’s story and you can’t say that you don’t find him hot. He is wearing a vintage, floral printed shirt, the first few buttons left undone, so you have a nice view of his chest and his necklace you’ve felt under your lips so many times before when you were kissing down his body. He keeps twisting and playing with his several rings and it makes you stare at his hands for a tad bit longer than you intended to. God, he looks so damn good, you really just want to fuck him here and now.

You keep changing who goes up to the bar to order and the third round is yours, so sliding out of the booth you go to the bar and wait for your turn. A young, handsome guy is making the drinks and you clearly catch his eyes.

“And what can I get for you, beautiful?” he smirks at you when it’s finally your turn.

“Two vodka sodas, a martini and three vodka cranberries,” you smile back at him with a hint of flirting in your tone.

It’s kind of second nature to you, a few charming smiles and winks have gotten a lot of free things for you in your life and you never miss a chance to use your advances.

“All that for one pretty girl?” he teases you.

“I would be all over the floor if I drank all of it,” you chuckle, pulling your card out of your wallet, tapping it on the terminal as he finishes up the drinks, kindly putting them on a tray so you can easily bring them over to the booth.

“Don’t worry, I would surely pick you up then,” he winks at you, placing the last drink to the tray before you thank him and head back.

As you take your previous seat you notice that Harry is watching you intently.

“What?” you mouth him over the conversation at the table.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning his gaze away, grabbing his drink and focusing back on everyone else.

You go up to the bar two more times, once to ask for some chips and once for some napkins after a drink has gotten spilt onto the table. Every time you exchange a few words with the bartender and you have to admit, he has a great sense of humor paired with his looks.

Sometime later in the evening you decide to switch to water, so you go up to the bar a fourth time, the bartender coming to you right away at this point. As you wait for him to grab you your drink you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning to the side you see Harry standing next to you.

“Hey, want to come to my place after this?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear. His hot breath hits your exposed skin on your neck and a shudder runs down your spine, especially with his hand still on the small of your back.

“You want a rerun of your first time?” you smirk back at him, referring to the drinks you both have had, though it’s definitely not as wild as that night was.

“No, but this dress is making it hard not to want to rip it off,” he bluntly tells you as you glance down at yourself. At last you decided to wear a black bodycon dress that surely shows every dip and curve of your body and apparently Harry has been enjoying the show.

The bartender arrives with your water, his eyes falling on Harry and you see that he is a little taken aback by his presence.

“Hey man, can you get me another one as well? I’ll pay for both,” Harry nods at him and there’s something foreign in his tone that you can’t really put your finger on. The bartender just nods back and goes to grab another water.

“What if I wasn’t in the mood?” you tease him, continuing the discussion where you left it a moment ago.

“Oh, please!” he chuckles smugly. “I saw you eyeing me from across the table, Y/N. I know you are definitely in the mood.”

He is right. So damn right. You’ve been crossing your legs under the table for a while now, feeling your arousal growing every time you saw him run his tongue over his lips or whenever his finger played with the lip of his glass, imagining him doing the same with your body.

Biting into your bottom lip you need to take a deep breath, but when Harry sees your teeth digging into your lip, he loses his patience.

“Or we can just do it now,” he growls lowly, grabbing your hand before he starts pulling you towards the restrooms. You don’t even have the chance to protest, not that you want to.

He is quick to pull you into an empty restroom, locking the door behind the two of you before his lips attack yours, pushing you against the door with vigor and hunger. His hands are already bunching your dress up around your waist and you moan his name when your hips meet and you feel his hard length through his jeans.

“We have to be quick, so no one notices we disappeared,” he pants as he helps you up to the counter, your back hitting the cold mirror behind you.

“Then shut up and just fuck me,” you challenge him and it makes him absolutely feral.

You don’t have time to enjoy it the way you usually do in bed, but the excitement of the situation alone has gotten you so wet that you’re already dripping when he pushes your panties to the side with one hand while his other works on his own pants.

“Fuck, already so wet for me, huh?” he breathes out, his lips brushing against yours before they kiss you fully.

“Just like how you’re rock hard for me,” you grin against his lips, a hand wandering down to his cock as you pull it out of his boxers, stroking it a few times before he pulls a condom out of his back pocket and wraps himself up. “Were you counting on this quickie, Styles?” you ask when you realize that he just had a condom ready on him.

“I knew for sure I’m gonna fuck you tonight, but wasn’t sure how long I’m gonna last,” he grins, capturing your lips again before he pushes himself inside you with no warning, making you both gasp.

“Fuck! Harry!” you moan as he starts moving rapidly, definitely not taking his time like he usually does. He is pounding into you without mercy, panting against your lips as his ring clad fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs.

“You like that? Like it when I fuck you somewhere public?” he growls, making your legs curl around his hips.

Your hands move up his chest and neck, fingers tangling into his curls and you give them a tug, earning an animalistic grunt from him as he starts going even harder and faster. You’re rapidly getting closer to your orgasm.

“You close?” he pants and you nod. “Come on, cum all over my cock, Y/N.”

A few more thrusts and your walls tighten around his dick, squeezing him as you gasp, riding your high, your head falling backwards, meeting with the mirror behind you. Harry follows you a few pushes later, moaning your name repeatedly before his movements come to a halt and you both take a moment to catch your breath.

When he pulls out you both just quietly clean yourselves up, fixing your clothes and hair so you don’t entirely scream sex with your appearances.

“My offer to come to mine after still stands,” he smirks, running a hand through his hair before you head out.

“Tempting, but I have some work to do in the morning, so no,” you turn him down, stepping out to the dark hallway that leads back to the bar. Harry grabs your hand and pulls you back, his lips smashing against yours, surprising you with his move. He kisses you deeply, sucking on your bottom lip hard before he pulls back.

“What was that for?” you ask out of breath.

“If you’re not coming over, I needed something to have a good night,” he shrugs with a smug smirk before you return to the bar.

You catch the bartender’s look as you finally get your waters and Harry pays for them. You catch the two men eyeing each other for a moment before you and Harry return to the table and you forget about the whole thing.

A Sunday afternoon you’re lounging at Harry’s. You jumped at each other’s bones when you arrived, but now you’re chilling on his couch, watching a series you both wanted to start so you decided to give it a go together. Your leg is lying across Harry’s lap, his hands absentmindedly kneading your thighs. It feels nice, like a massage, especially after how sore he made you earlier, stretching you out more than he usually does with a new pose you tried out.

Your phone chimes next to you and tearing your gaze away from the TV you check to see who just sent you a text. It was one of your coworkers, Anthony, he sent you a raging text about how he still has no idea what to wear to the company party that’s gonna be next Saturday and you realize that you totally forgot about it.

“Shit!” you curse under your breath.

“What?” Harry asks, pausing the show.

“I have this stupid work party next weekend and I totally forgot about it,” you growl, checking your calendar quickly if you can squeeze in a quick shopping spree before Saturday or you’ll have to find something in your closet.

“Aren’t those things nice with a lot of free food and drinks?” Harry wonders.

“Yeah, but I don’t like it, because all my colleagues bring their partners and I’m usually the only single one and they keep trying to set me up with someone,” you roll your eyes even at the thought of having to suffer through another one of those awkward conversations about your love life. Like it’s any of their concern!

“I can go with you if that helps,” he offers and you give him a look over your phone. “What? I’m sure if you brought someone they wouldn’t bug you.”

“But we are not together,” you remind him narrowing your eyes at him.

“They don’t have to know that. It’s a win-win, Y/N. Your colleagues would stop nagging you and I can eat and drink for free,” he smirks, clearly pleased with his little plan.

“I mean… you’re not wrong,” you sigh.

“See? Then it’s settled,” he pats your legs, smirking widely at you, but you’re still not entirely convinced. “Come on, Y/N. It’s gonna be fun!”

“This is so cliché, Harry!” you groan, your head falling back against the arm of the couch. “Pretending to be a couple? Straight out of a damn movie.”

Harry lifts your legs up so he can get out from under them, placing them back to the cushion before he climbs over to you, half of his body pressing onto yours as he squints his eyes at you.

“We can fuck in the bathroom, if you want,” he bluntly offers and you just start laughing at his dirty mind and technique of convincing you. “What? There’s literally no better offer out there. Free food, free drinks and free sex. Really good sex, if I may add,” he points out and you smack his chest lightly.

“Didn’t know you were thinking about charging me for the sex,” you joke.

“Might as well do, baby. Especially if it’s the best you can get,” he smugly huffs and you’d retort something funny, but you get caught up on the name.

“Baby? Since when are you calling me baby?”

“Since we are gonna be a couple next week. Gotta rehearse, baby,” he repeats the nickname and a foreign feeling bubbles in the pit of your stomach. Why is this one little word making you feel things you haven’t before? “And you know what else we can rehearse?” he continues, oblivious to your inner dialogue.

You don’t get to answer upon feeling his hand slide between your legs, fingers gently pressing onto your clothed clit and though you can’t stop a moan from slipping through your lips, you still grab his wrist and pull him away.

“My legs are too sore, I wouldn’t enjoy another round of you pounding into me,” you tell him and you can see the proud glimmer in his eyes that he was the one who got you into this state, though he luckily doesn’t comment on it.

“It doesn’t have to be pounding, then,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses you, taking his time as his hand frees itself from your grip and slides under your shorts and panties, fingers meeting your already throbbing bud.

He repositions himself so one of his thighs are between your legs, his lips never leaving yours as his fingers start drawing circles on your clit, sending pleasure down your body in waves.

“Fuck,” you breathe out against his lips when two of his fingers tease your entrance before pushing all the way inside, curling them between your clenching, wet walls.

“No, we are not fucking right now,” he smirks, never missing a chance to joke around and you want to retort to his comment, but words get caught in your throat when his thumb starts playing with your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

“So, are we on for Saturday? It’s gonna be fun, hm?”

The little shit is using his fingers to convince you and he has the audacity to ask you questions when you are about to see stars. Sometimes you really do hate how big of a smug fucker Harry is, but it’s hard to feel hatred for him when he is about to make you cum again.

“I-I don’t… Harry!” you gasp when he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, right when you were so close. “I was about to fucking cum!” you growl, raging eyes meeting his green irises.

“I know,” he chuckles. “Say that you’re in and I’ll make you cum.”

“You motherfu—“

You don’t get to finish, his lips smashing against yours as his fingers return, moving faster than before, quickly pushing you towards the edge again.

“Say it. Say it, Y/N,” he mumbles against your lips as your chest is heaving and you start buckling your hips to meet his movements.

“Fuck… Okay! I’m in, just please make me cum!” you whine, hands gripping his shoulders like your life depends on it.

“Good girl,” he smirks and finishes you off without any more teasing.

You cry out his name, fingers digging into his muscles as you push your thighs together, trapping his hand between them while he keeps fingering you oh so perfectly. He makes sure you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he pulls his fingers out and without batting an eye, he just licks them and fixes your panties and shorts before returning to his previous position with your legs across his lap, starting the show like nothing really happened.

Saturday morning you’re able to quickly get your nails done and Leticia comes with you, the two of you having brunch together afterwards. You go to a new place near the nail salon and as the waiter arrives with your orders, you notice that he slides a napkin onto the table with a small smile.

Grabbing it you see a phone number scribbled onto it. Normally, you send back a smile and tug the napkin into your purse, but this time you just leave it on the table and decide to ignore it.

“What the hell is up with you?” Leticia asks and glancing up at her you see her gesturing towards the napkin. “You don’t seem too thrilled about the approach which is very unlike you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m just… not interested,” you shrug, reaching for your fork.

“Not interested? The dude looks like the lovechild of Chris Hemsworth and Johnny Depp. He is exactly your type, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just not seeking another hookup right now, that’s it.”

“Oh my God!” Leticia gasps and you give her a puzzled look.

“What?”

“You don’t want other men because of Harry!”

“What? That’s crazy,” you laugh, because she has clearly left her mind at the salon for even thinking that.

“Have you hooked up with anyone else than Harry since you’ve made your little deal?”

“I, uhh… Flirted with the bartender when we were out together.”

“Flirting doesn’t count, not even in relationships.”

“I don’t think many would agree with that, Tish,” you huff.

“Okay, but did you have any interest in fucking someone else?”

“I don’t get it why you are making a big deal out of it. Why would I seek anyone else if I’m perfectly pleased by him?”

“Honey, that’s like… how relationships work.”

“That’s not true,” you shake your head, though what would you know about relationships? Your first and only one was when you were seventeen and it lasted twenty-one pathetic days.

“Are you fucking with anyone else?” She asks, eyebrows raised at you as you shake your head no. “Are you fucking him?”

“Obviously,” you scoff.

“Do you spend time together that doesn’t include sex?”

You are almost quick to say no, but then you realize that would be a big ass lie. Every time he comes over to your place or you’re at his, it’s never just the sex. That’s always primary, but not everything you do. All the dinners, the movies and shows you’ve watched together, when you sit on your tiny balcony with a bottle of wine, talking and laughing like you always did before the deal, something always happens after the sex.

Your silence once again answers Leticia’s question. Reaching over the table she takes your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Girl, you are totally dating Harry.”

Leticia once again manages to put a flea in your ear about this whole Harry thing. You wish she didn’t say a thing, because now you can’t think of anything else than the fact that you really are doing all the things with Harry that people who are dating do.

You get so riled up that you almost cancel on the evening, but you’d hate to have to sit through the evening with your colleagues alone when you said you’d be bringing someone. That would make their usual nagging a hundred times worse. So instead, you suck it up and decide to ignore the issue just for the time being and you get ready.

You were able to find a new dress beforehand, the yellow dress is truly a sight to the sore eyes with the corset-like top and very subtle lace details here and there. It’s a little daring, but everyone goes all out for these parties usually and you definitely don’t want to be underdressed.

Harry texts you that he is in front of the building a little before seven, holding up the taxi he came with so you quickly grab everything you need and head out.

You’re the first one to see him through the glass entrance doors of your building, he is standing next to the car in a simple black suit and a soft yellow shirt underneath. It was actually your idea to match your outfits and he surely understood the assignment, especially seeing his also yellow nails.

Part of you is still hung up on what Leticia told you, but a bigger one is so excited to see him and also very into his look for the evening, that you push your doubts to the back of your mind and step out of the building with a shy smile on your lips as his eyes fall on you and you see his lips part.

“Wow! This dress is… wow!” he breathes out, his eyes raking your frame up and down shamelessly as you walk closer.

“Do you know any other words than wow?” you tease him, biting into your bottom lip.

“Yeah. How about: I would love to bend you over this taxi and take you here and now in this dress?”

Your face heats up immediately, slapping his arm, but then you leave your hand on his bicep and give it a squeeze as your answer: you’d definitely love that if it wasn’t kind of illegal to have sex out on a busy street.

The ignorance in you is so high that you don’t even mind how Harry keeps a hand on your thigh in the car, what’s more, you’re quite liking the warmth of his touch on you. His fingers are gently tapping against the music the driver is playing and he even hums a little along the songs.

“Hey, how is the album writing going?” you ask to break the silence a little.

“Great! They asked for fifteen songs until the end of August, so I have plenty of time, but I’m already done with six,” he beams, and you smile back at him proudly.

“That’s amazing. Can I hear any of them sometime?”

“I mean… if you buy the album?” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes at him. “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he then adds, giving your leg another squeeze before turning towards the window.

The party is just the same as it always is. A luxurious evening to celebrate the company’s success in the past six months, a way to give back to the employees and make them feel appreciated with all the free stuff. It’s nice, but you don’t feel like it’s necessary, people would be happier with a raise after all, than one night of free food and drinks.

Harry holds your hand as you walk in, the majority of the guests already present, music playing and there are several open buffet tables and bars in the gigantic ballroom that was decorated in a forest-like theme just for tonight.

“So you did not lie about bringing a date!” Anthony beams as soon as he sees you, his boyfriend, Pete following him right behind, both of them wearing matching burgundy suits.

“Have I lied to you about anything?” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Plenty of times,” he points out before turning towards Harry. “Hello handsome, I’m Anthony, Y/N’s favorite coworker, and this is my boyfriend, Pete.” They all shake hands, Harry smiling back at them warmly before his hand finds yours again, his fingers lacing together with yours in an instant.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, I’m Harry.”

“Oh my! The accent!” Anthony gushes, clearly already a fan of Harry’s. “I was really afraid Y/N just said that she is bringing someone so we would get out of her hair this time.”

“I feel offended,” you give him a look, but he just shrugs it off, even though he is more right than he knows.

“Come on, let’s get you guys a drink, we are all sitting over there!”

Joining all your coworkers at the table, you get a head start on the food and drinks, not shying away from stacking everything you like onto your plate. Talking, mixing and mingling, Harry stays right next to you, charming everyone the two of you meet, earning you some approving looks from your colleagues that usually try to set you up with someone they know. This time, you’re left in peace the moment they see Harry with you, his hand always somewhere on you, holding your hand, the small of your back, your hips or waist or, your personal favorite, the back of your neck under your hair. His presence is uplifting already, but his tiny touches just warm you even more on the inside.

“I have to say, Y/N, you are absolutely glowing!” Dianne, one of the editors compliment you when the two of you are at the bar waiting for your drinks to be refilled. Harry stayed back at the table, deep in conversation with Pete about guitars, from what you could understand from their conversation.

“Oh, thank you!” you chuckle softly.

“This man is for sure treating you well. It’s so great to see you finally finding your person.”

She meant well with her comment, but it’s what brings everything you kept hidden in the back of your head out to the front. Tonight was supposed to be all pretending, making everyone believe something that’s not even there, but then why do you feel like it’s real? Like you fooled yourself with everyone else as well?

Your eyes fall back to Harry at the table, who is intently listening to something Pete is telling him and as if he had a sixth sense, his eyes snap at you, a smile stretching across his pretty face at an instant that makes you stomach dance again, heart beating oddly fast.

What is happening to you? This cannot be real, you can’t be having feelings, especially not for Harry. No, you do not allow that for yourself, emotions are off limits for you, because if you fall for someone that gives them the chance to leave you and break you and you’ve seen what it does to a woman. You got enough of the suffering through your mother and you vowed not to let it happen to you. And not even Harry Styles will change that. This is about sex and nothing else, no feelings are involved and that will not change. You won’t let it.

Excusing yourself from Dianne you quickly go back to the table, the refills long forgotten as you take your seat next to Harry. His hand instantly finds your leg as he looks at you with a sweet smile at first that turns into slight confusion.

“Thought you went for a refill?”

“Forget the drinks,” you shake your head, leaning closer to his ear. “You promised me bathroom sex.”

You feel the shift in him right away, how he bites into his bottom lip, his bright green irises darkening at your words, his hold on your leg tightening. His gaze flickers to your eyes and you want to devour him, you want him to take you here and there to prove you that this is all it’s about: sex.

Clearing his throat he mumbles a lame excuse as he pulls you from your chair, tugging you towards the restrooms, you try to keep up with his pace in your heels, but you also can’t wait for him to slam you against the door and fuck you quick and hard.

As soon as you’re locked away from the party in one of the bathrooms, your lips collide with his as he pushes you up against the door, a leg coming between your thighs and you can’t stop yourself from grinding on him.

“Fuck,” he rasps out, hands cupping your jaw as he angles your head just right while your hands are already traveling down his body to reach his pants, eager to get them undone as fast as possible.

However the sudden rush and desperation catches Harry’s eyes and he grabs your hands, stopping you mid-action.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks, out of breath, concern filling his eyes.

“I just need you to fuck me,” you bluntly reply, but he doesn’t move.

“Okay, but why do you look so shaken up? Did something happen?”

“Harry, stop babying me! I said I’m fine, I just want you to fuck me!” you snap, losing your patience. Not sure if it’s with him or with yourself though.

“You’re obviously not fine! You are snapping at me for being decent and making sure you’re okay!” Harry steps away from you, the moment completely ruined as all physical contact ends with him, his eyes staring back at you in disbelief and you feel like a ticking bomb that’s about to explode.

“It’s not your concern if I’m okay or not. We have a deal, just go with that and leave the rest to me!”

“But above the deal we are friends too. I’m not gonna just… fuck you senseless when you’re obviously upset about something. You’re not in the right mindset.”

“Oh my God, stop being so fucking nice! Stop making these grand gestures and stop pretending like you give a fuck!” You raise your voice and it surely surprises him, but he is still more concerned than angry at your outburst.

“What do you mean pretending? I do care about you! Is that a fucking crime now?!”

“It is because it is for the wrong reasons!” you retort, feeling your throat closing up at the same time. Oh God, you hope you won’t start crying, that will make it even worse. “I think you are taking this pretending a little too far tonight. We are not a couple, this is not real, Harry,” you remind him.

He stares back at you for what feels like eternity and you wish you could read his mind, because you can’t read anything from his eyes, he just stands there like a statue and you feel panic crawling up your spine, slowly digging its claws into your flesh.

And then he finally breaks his silence.

“And would it be so bad if it was real?”

You can’t help a sob that emits from you, feeling like your guts are in a tight grip by his words. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

“No, take that back!” you whine.

“I’m not taking it back! Y/N, what we’ve been doing these past weeks is exactly what a relationship is like and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it until a label was put on it. It doesn’t have to change anything!”

“But it is! And you know I don’t do this!”

“Don’t do what? Feelings? You don’t get to choose that!” he chuckles bitterly.

“I do! I fucking do! And I chose not to have them so… this is ending here, because you clearly caught feelings,” you pant in desperate need of getting out of the bathroom, but when you are about to open the door Harry’s hand snaps against it, keeping it closed. You rest your forehead against the cool surface of it, feeling Harry stand so close to you behind, his chest is touching your back.

“Don’t just walk away, we are in the middle of a conversation,” he growls, his voice filled with anger and warning.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you whisper, shaking your head as you turn around and face him, your back pressing against the door.

“But I do,” he simply replies. “Why do you think you can just run away from feeling anything for the rest of your life? Why would it be so bad if you fell for someone, huh? I know you do have feelings, I know you well, Y/N. You’re not some cold hearted jerk, you are a caring and loving person, so why won’t you let yourself be happy?”

“I am happy the way I am, have you thought about that?”

“No, you’re not. I’ve known you half my life, I know that you want to be cared for, you want to be loved and cherished, yet you push away everyone who wants to give you that.”

“Because it’s not that easy, Harry!” you snap at him. “It’s never just the lovey-dovey shit! Feelings come with hurt and pain and heartbreaks and I don’t need that! I can’t handle that!”

“It’s not always the case! But if you never put yourself out there, you’ll never find the happiness you’re seeking!”

“Well, for me, it doesn’t worth it! I don’t want to fall for someone, plan my future with them and open up to them completely only for them to fall out of love with me one day and decide they don’t want anything to do with me! I don’t want to give anyone the chance to hurt me like that, because I’ve seen what it does to a person! I witnessed it all, Harry! I will not be a victim to that!”

You’re full on shouting, tears rolling down your cheeks at this point. You are letting everything out that’s been bottled up deep inside of you all this time. Nothing can make you believe in the fairytale that will never become your reality and you rather save the time and pain than experiment with it.

What really hurts is that now you are losing your friend. Your best friend. Because the way Harry is looking at you makes it obvious that you’ll never be like before the deal. The hurt, the shock, the panic and the anger, it all mixes in his wide-eyed gaze and it’s like a knife into your chest.

“You promised me, Harry,” you sob, voice now barely more than just a whisper. “You swore you wouldn’t catch feelings but you lied!”

“I didn’t lie,” he simply answers clenching his jaw. “I said I wouldn’t catch feelings for you, but truth is… I already had them. I was already in love with you, have been for a while. And you know what? I think you love me too, but you’re just too afraid to admit it. I know it because I can feel it. The way you touch me, look at me, the way you talk to me, it’s written all over you, but you choose to ignore it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you shake your head vigorously. “You think you know it, but you don’t.”

“Stop denying it, Y/N! You can’t just switch it off! Loving is not as horrendous as you think it is! Yes, it comes with pain too, but the good is always there to make you forget about it. You have to give it… you have to give yourself a chance!”

“I don’t have to do anything, Harry,” you sass back, pushing him away so you have the chance to sneak out of the room before he could stop you. But he doesn’t let it end that easily. Running after you he catches your wrist before you could get out of the hallway, pulling you back.

“Don’t just fucking walk away, Y/N! We need to talk about this!”

“No, we don’t. And I’m done with this. Done with… you.”

It hurts. The words rolling off of your tongue hurt, but you choose to ignore it once again as you shake his hand off of yourself, marching back to your table to grab your bag and leave.

“What do you mean you’re done with me? Don’t do this, Y/N! Let’s just fucking talk!”

Harry keeps trying to stop you, but you’re determined to leave. Your coworkers notice the little scene, but you don’t pay it any attention as you head out of the room, knowing well they’ll talk shit about you behind your back as soon as you’re out of the building.

“Y/N for fuck’s sake just stop already!” Harry snaps, grabbing your arm once again when you’re outside, pulling you back, but you’ve had enough.

“No! I’m not stopping, you need to stop! Stop trying to make yourself believe this is anything more than just the deal we made! It’s not and it will never be, because you don’t get to have the privilege of hurting me, nobody gets to do that!”

“Who said I want to hurt you?! That’s the last thing I would want to do! It’s not as cruel as you imagine it, Y/N. I know that your mum had a terrible love life when you were younger, but that’s not the only side to love! There are so much good about it, so much to fight for and endure with the bad sides, you can’t just throw all of it out the window because you decided love is just not for you!”

“I can and I will. Watch me!” you bite back, tearing your arm out of his hold as you step to the side of the pavement and wave a taxi down.

“Please don’t get into that car, Y/N, let’s talk!”

“We talked enough,” you huff as the car stops in front of you and you hop inside, but just as you are about to close the door Harry once again stops you.

“Y/N, I love you. Please don’t do this!” he begs, so much sorrow and pain radiating from his face and for a moment you fall weak. You almost reach out to him, because part of you hates seeing him like this, especially knowing that it’s because of you. You just want him to be happy, but you know it’s not gonna be with you. You can never give him what he wants and needs. He’ll be better off without you.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out before pulling the door closed and the car drives away. Turning around you see him stand on the pavement, completely broken and shaken, his hands tangling into his hair as he angrily kicks at the dirt before the car melts into the traffic and he falls out of your sight.

You did it for your and Harry’s sake. It had to be done and you are both better off this way. At least that’s what you’ve been trying to convince you to believe.

But why does it hurt so badly then?

Harry tried you calling a million times after you left him at the party, he even came after you and banged on your door for thirty minutes straight, begging you to let him in and just talk, but you didn’t even answer him. Just waited until he left before you curled up in the shower and cried for about an hour.

The calls and texts kept coming in the next few days, but after a while he gave up. He got nothing but silence from your side and one last, long ass text that you didn’t even read because you knew you’d just start crying again, he finally gave up.

You were left alone with all the pain and emptiness and you realized how big part of your life Harry played before. Somehow, everything reminded you of him and you couldn’t do anything without wishing he was with you.

You truly believed that time will heal you, that soon you’ll realize that you made the right decision, but days turned into weeks and nothing changed, you just learned to live with the pain. You stopped going out with your friends and not just because you were afraid of seeing Harry, but because you genuinely couldn’t get yourself to leave the house. Your evenings consisted of binge eating all the ice-cream you could find in your freezer and watching reruns of your favorite shows, but nothing could really take your mind off of Harry.

Day after day you cancelled on Leticia as well until she had enough of your hermit life. She got fed up watching you sink into your pit of sorrow and decided to take things into her own hands and not let you run away from her.

A Friday evening you’re doing what you’ve been doing for weeks now, lying on your couch in sweatpants, scrolling through Netflix when there’s a knock on your door. You wait, hoping whoever it is will think you’re not home and go away, but another obnoxious knock rips through the apartment and you growl.

“I know you’re in there bitch, open the fucking door!” Leticia shouts from outside and you curse the day you became friends with her. Maybe you would have been better off as enemies.

“I’m busy!” you call out, but make your way to the front door anyway, opening it to reveal her.

“Yeah, I can see that. Busy with being a bag of trash,” she comments on your appearance, walking inside without an invitation.

“Jeez, you really did wake up today and chose violence,” you mutter under your breath as you shut the door closed.

Leticia is quick to turn the TV off and open up the windows as you just stand there, not sure what she is doing here.

“When did you clean this place? And when was the last time you took a shower?” she asks, her nose scrunching when she takes a better look at you.

“Okay, did you come here to offend me? Because I don’t need that so please leave.”

“No, I’m here to beat some sense into you.”

“Good luck with that,” you scoff, taking your spot on the couch once again. You reach for the remote with the intention of turning the TV back on, but Leticia stands in front of the screen, blocking the device completely as she stares down at you with a disapproving look, arms folded on her chest.

“You’re acting like a child, Y/N. Avoiding everyone and being mad at the whole world, are you an emo teenager now or what?”

“I’m not mad at the whole world!”

“Okay, then you’re mad at just Harry, still, it’s a mistake.”

“I’m not mad at only Harry either,” you admit truthfully.

“Who else then?”

“Myself?” you mumble, eyes falling closed as you slide lower down on the couch.

“That makes the two of us, but why are you mad at yourself?” she asks, finally moving from her spot in front of the TV as she sits next to you on the couch, crossing her legs as she waits for your answer.

“Because…” you start with a sigh, opening your eyes, but you avoid looking at her, instead, you stare at the wall across you. “Because I can’t fucking stop thinking about him,” you admit and your lips start trembling instantly, just like every time you think about him. “I miss him so fucking badly, Tish! I miss our conversations, I miss his stupid jokes, I miss him raiding my fucking fridge and I miss…”

You bite your tongue, not wanting to admit the next thoughts loudly. Because you miss kissing him, you miss holding him and be held by him. You miss sex too, but you miss the tiny things even more, the way his lips feel against yours, how he smiles against them when you whimper his name and you miss the awkward little things the most. When he accidentally bumps his head against yours or when say random shit right before he pushes into you just to make you laugh, or when he leans in for a kiss but misses it and ends up kissing your nose or just the corner of your mouth. You miss everything about him and you hate him for that, but you hate yourself even more. It feels like your own conscious has betrayed you.

Shutting your eyes closed you let the tears roll down your cheeks as Leticia scoots closer and wraps her arms around you, cooing soothingly at you.

“It’s alright. It’s totally normal, Y/N.”

“It is not! Not for me at least!” you protest pulling back, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands.

“Stop with the bullshit already!” she growls in annoyance. “You are not some kind of ice queen who is incapable of loving! You love me, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s different,” you roll your eyes.

“Not really. You love your other friends as well, right?” You nod. “And you love your mom,” she adds and you nod again. “Would you do anything for these people?”

“Of course.”

“Do you like spending time with them? Do you care about them in all kinds of ways?”

“Yes,” you sigh, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

“Do you feel the same way about Harry? Do you care about him, would you do anything for him to make him happy?”

“Yes,” you whisper truthfully.

“Then don’t complicate it. You love him, no big deal! And he surely loves you back, because he told you, right?” You nod. “Then pull your head out of your ass and just let yourself be happy for once.”

“Why are you coming with this too? I was happy on my own too!”

“No, you were getting by,” she points it out. “You were doing good, but you weren’t… a whole. Harry gave you everything you missed, but for some fucked up reason you think it’s the end of the world to depend on someone else partially when it comes to your happiness. Which can be a smart thing, it’s important to be your own person and be independent, but sometimes we need some help from others. From people that love us and we love them back. It’s not a crime, Y/N.”

“No, but it’s gonna end up with me being heartbroken.”

“You already are,” she ruthlessly replies, bringing your attention to what you’ve been trying to ignore all this time. “Hate to break it to you, but this is what that feels like. So why not just go with it, you already felt the pain, now you could go for the good parts as well.”

“I don’t know if I can do it, Tish,” you breathe out, resting your head against the back of the couch. “Even if I did it, I know I would mess it up and hurt him or maybe he’ll do something stupid and hurt me and I don’t think I can handle that.”

“So what? It’s part of the deal. And besides, you’re already hurting each other, so you better get your shit together,” she scoffs, poking your side playfully.

It’s part of the deal. Are you ready to make a new deal? One that you’ve been avoiding your whole life? Are you ready to cut yourself open for someone else and just hope for the best?

Probably not. And probably you’ll never be. But your tactics didn’t succeed so far, you still ended up in pain so why not give it a chance? Even if it’s gonna be the hardest thing you’ve ever done?

“Do you think he hates me now?” you ask quietly, peeking at her scared of her answer.

“He is a bit mad at you for shutting him out, but he could never hate you. That man loves you so much, it’s almost disgusting,” she admits, making you chuckle. “Just… be honest with him and talk to him. You need it. You both need it.”

Harry’s fingers strum against the chords again, trying to get the tune right, but he fails again, a frustrated growl leaving his lips as he lets his head fall forwards. He’s been trying to finish the song for hours, but it still hasn’t come together the way he imagined and his patience is running short.

It’s been hard for him to focus on writing, with you on his mind all the time, everything seems like a hard task. He has written plenty of songs since the night at the party, but he could never use them for his job. One, because they are so fucking sad and depressive and they asked for upbeat hits from him, and two, because they are all so personal, he could never give them to someone else. He can’t let anyone else sing the lines he wrote to you, but you’ll probably never hear them.

Giving up on finishing the song today, he puts the guitar aside and calls it a day. Walking into the kitchen he opens the fridge and realizes that it’s completely empty aside from a bottle of ketchup and a single banana. He’s been such a mess lately, he forgot to go grocery shopping yesterday. Huffing to himself he grabs the banana and reaches for his phone to order something right when his doorbell rings. He is not expecting anyone, but Mitch has been popping in every few days to check in on him since everything that went down with you, so Harry is convinced it’s him again.

“Great timing, do you want Italian or Chinese?” he asks, walking up to the door, but as he swings it open he freezes when he sees you standing on the doormat. “Y/N…” he breathes out as if he was seeing a ghost.

“Hi! I-I hope I’m not bothering you o-or anything…” you ramble nervously.

“No! No, come on in!” He snaps out of his trance and steps aside, letting you walk inside. A feeling of nostalgia hits you right away as you think back at the last time you were here. Just a few days before the party, when everything was different.

“I’m sorry I came without asking, I just… I would say I was nearby, but that’s not true,” you chuckle anxiously as the two of you walk into the living room. You notice that his place is a little messier than usually, but it’s not nearly as bad as yours was before you did a deep cleaning yesterday after Leticia’s comments on it.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. What… What brought you here?”

“I, uhh… I’ve been thinking. A lot. And I have a few things I need to tell you.”

For a moment Harry’s stomach drops, because he thinks you came here to tell him off one more time for breaking your deal, for everything that happened at the party. He is already bracing himself to just let you lash out on him, but it never comes. And when you speak up again, he nearly faints.

“I love you.”

It’s a strong start, definitely a surprising one. Harry’s lips part and his eyes widen, his look almost comical, but you’re not laughing, not now. You have a lot to tell him and you can only hope he won’t throw you out after everything is said.

“I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to stop ignoring it, but I promise you I’m done with that. And I’m sorry for everything I said to you that night, I was… mad and confused and I didn’t know how to deal with everything at once. I was delusional and ignorant and… a fool for thinking that I could just choose to never have feelings, especially for you,” you add with a tiny, nervous chuckle. “You were right. About everything. That I can’t live without ever putting myself out there and risking it. And I think deep down I knew that, but I was so afraid of getting hurt that I made myself believe I’m good on my own, but I’m not. Not entirely, to be precise. Because sometimes it is worth risking it and… and I realized that you are the person for me who is worth this risk.”

The tears are already blurring your vision, for the millionth time these past weeks, but it feels right now. Opening up to Harry and telling him all of this is hard, but with every spoken word you feel lighter and more relieved.

“I’m sorry if I made you think that I don’t love you, because I do. I really do. You are my best friend and these past weeks have been hell for me without you. I was so keen on avoiding a heart break that I ended up breaking my own heart,” you chuckle bitterly, the first tear running down your cheek.

Harry reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb and you involuntarily melt into his touch. You’ve been starved for it and now it feels like home. When you look up and your eyes meet his, you see that they are red too and it just makes you want to cry even more.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just thought that I was doing the right thing, but I was so far from that. So I’m really sorry and I understand if you don’t want to see me again for the way I acted. I was… a horrible friend and… an even worse girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah. Because you were right, we were more than just the deal and… if you choose not to throw me out after this, I would… I would love to give it a try with you. I want to be the girlfriend you deserve and though I’m sure I’ll mess it up a lot of times, I promise I’ll try my best, becau—“

He makes your rambling stop in the best way possible, lips smashing against yours as he cups your tear-soaked cheeks in his warm palms, pulling you close to him, your arms curling around his waist immediately.

Harry has kissed you several times before, but none of them compares to this. It’s messy and salty from both your tears, but you wouldn’t change a thing about it, the way his lips move against yours, tongues meeting, devouring each other, making up for the lost time and full of promises for the future. You hold onto his shirt at his back for dear life as he just keeps kissing you over and over again until you both run out of breath.

“So, does this mean you’re not throwing me out?” you joke, breaking the silence once you’ve pulled back.

“Fuck no,” he laughs, pecking your lips a few more times before his lips meet your forehead. “You are not leaving this place, ever. You’re trapped,” he adds to the joke and you break out in a relieved laughter.

“Wait, so I’m stuck with you now?” you whine playfully, but all you get is another kiss on the lips, hard and demanding.

“Yeah, forever, baby. You won’t get rid of me now, not after the speech you just gave me,” he smirks down at you, his arms coming to curl around your shoulders as he keeps you pressed against him tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply, your heart soaring as you hear those words again from him, this time, not even trying to dodge them in any way. In fact, you just want to hear him say it every minute over and over again for the rest of your life. “And I’m happy to be stuck with you,” you add with a shy smile as his grin widens at your words.

“Yeah? So we have a new deal then?” he teases, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Absolutely.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[annahxredaxted]

Funny stuff with the redacted peeps.

Part two

Part three

Ash And angel prank calling:

Ash: a 7 foot bottom?

Angel: who’s topping you? Lady liberty?

*aggressively hangs up*

David: what-

Baabe: -the fuck.

Angel:hey davey…

David sighing: yes ?

Angel: what’s long hard and full of seamen?

David: 😳ANGEL THAT IS HIGLY INAPPROPRIATE-

Angel: -A SUBMARINE!!

Milo: why are you smiling?

Sweetheart: what? I can’t just be happy?

Baabe: christen tripped and fell in the parking lot.

Lasko: what’s a thot?

Freelancer: a thoughtful person.

*at the dinner table*

Lasko: hey huxley could you pass the salt?

*passes salt*

Lasko: thanks hux your such a thot!

Damian: *spits out water*

Lovely: crushes are the worst!

Vincent: yeah, whenever I’m with mine I always act stupid.

Lovely: you always act stupid. lol

Vincent: yeah don’t think into that to deeply.

*On a job*

David: what do you think tank will do for a distraction?

Ash: probably throw a rock like I do..

*building explodes and several car alarms go off*

David: or they’ll do that..

Baabe: what’s a mix of sad and mad?

Sweetheart: disgruntled, miserable, frustrated.

Angel: smad.

Honey: isn’t it weird that we pay to see other people?

Ollie: plan tickets?

Baby: concert tickets?

Guy: prostitution?

Honey, scared: ..uh.. glasses.

Cop: your getting a ticket for driving a motorcycle with 3 people.

Tank: ok- WAIT 3?!

Baabe and angel: OH SHIT SWEETHEART FELL OFF.

Tank pointing: can I sit there?

Sam: that’s my lap?

Tank: doesn’t answer my question.

Angel: The squads reaction to being told ‘I love you!’

Milo: oh hewl no

Asher: THANKS FAM!

Sweetheart: sounds fake but okay. *shrug*

Baabe: wut 0//-//0

David: can I get refund?

Baabe: in your opinion, what is the height of stupidity?

Sweetheart, turning to angel: how tall are you?

Lasko, motioning to a Halloween display: all these goast and I still can’t find a boo.

Gavin: people always asking me if I’m a daytime person or nighttime person.

Gavin: LIKE BUDDY IM BARELY EVEN A PERSON.

Angel:.. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.-- [im sorry]

David: what’s that?

Angel: remorse code.

David: I’m even angrier now.

Aaron going over smartass resume: okay so it says here your creative.

Smartass: yes .

Aaron: May I ask what you create?

Smartass: problems.

Geordi: that’s one of my biggest fears, waking up as a donut.

Cutie: would you eat yourself?

Geordi: wouldn’t even question it.

Sam watching the news like the old geezer he is: someone tried to fight a squid today?!

Darlin walking in covered in ink: well maybe the squid was being a dick.

Damian: can you be serious for 5 minutes?

Gavin: my record is 4 but I think I can do it.

Tank: hey could I get some dating advice?

Milo: just cos I’m with sweetheart doesn’t mean I know how I did it.

Sam: tell me bout the birds and the bees.

Darlin: their disappearing at an alarming rate..

Ash: truth or dare

Sam: dare..?

Ash: I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.

Sam: hey Alexis?

Alexis blushing: yeah?

Sam: could you move I’m tryna get to darlin.

Ash: I was arrested for being to cool

Sweetheart, being all professional: charges were dropped due to lack of supporting evidence.

David: if we don’t go to sleep now we’ll hate ourselves in the morning.

Tank: I already hate myself plenty dipshit.

David: we’ll be talking about this in the morning. Bed. Now.

Tank: we’lol be addressing eachother with code names, I’ll be eagle 1

Tank: Quinn is ‘been there done that’

Tank: Sam is ‘currently doing that’

Tank: ash ‘it happened once in a dream’

Tank: milo is ‘if I had to choose a guy’

Tank: and David is eagle 2

David: oh thank god.

Saten: hello there I have come to take you to the depths of he-

Freelancer: oh my god how tall are you?

Saten: uh. 6’6, 6’11 with horns.. Freelancer twisting hair in finger: Haha with horns. Your so funny

Angel: I’m not that clumsy.

David: lie of the decade.

Milo: I’m not that short.

David: lie of the century

Tank: I’m not attracted to Sam

David: lie of the universe.

Milo: what is life

Sweetheart: milo~

Milo:’aww I’m your life that’s so swe-

Sweetheart: because life is short.

Baabe: be the bigger person

Sweetheart: I am 5’1 and bitter, you be the bigger person.

Guy after the aquarium, disappointed:

Honey: what did you think a tiger shark was guy?

[wandaromanova]

Hello there!! Can I request a friends with benefits fic based on ‘boyfriend by ariana’ with wanda? Like y/n’s a known player, breaks people’s heart left and right without thinking of the consequences and then she meets wanda at a bar and thinks nothing of it until one day wanda asks her out and she goes all defensive about being in a relationship and starts being a dick to wanda; and this is where I stop cause I don’t know how to end this- 👀 this req is basically a combination of angst and fluff (also happy ending please 💛 can’t afford another heartbreak right now 😭)

Scared to Love

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: reader is a player, cussing, implied sexual themes, that’s it i think

A/N: hello! i hope i did your request justice! i switched it up very slightly so i hope that is okay! not proofread. join my taglist <3

Summary: the biggest player of them all, Y/N L/N, refuses to have feelings for anyone, but that all changes when Wanda Maximoff enters the picture.

Word Count: 3K

(gif is not mine)

To say that you were a player and a heartbreaker would be the understatement of the century. You slept with a different woman every night. You’d meet them at a bar, flirt with them and treat them to drinks, then go to their place and have sex. Like the player you were, you’d leave before whoever you slept with woke. Then repeat.

Some of the women would ask for your number and you’d give it to them just so you could get them into bed. They would eventually try and get into contact with you again, hoping for more sex or even for a date, but you’d just block their numbers. You were smart about what you did. You never took them to your place. You knew some people would be crazy enough to show up to your house unannounced and you couldn’t have that. What if they showed up while you were getting lucky with another woman? Absolutely not.

So now here you were, getting ready for another night out. However, you actually didn’t plan on meeting anyone or getting laid tonight. You were going to your favorite bar, one you always frequented that was close to where you lived. You knew all the employees and they knew you. You would tell them stories of different woman you had slept with over the week and rate them in bed on a scale of 1 to 10. Yeah, you were a bit of an asshole.

As you enter the small bar, the smell of alcohol and sweat overtakes your senses. You make your way to the bar as you approach the bartender; Bucky.

“Hey Buck! My usual please.” You smile at the man as he turns around to face you. He returns the smile as he begins to make your favorite drink.

“You got it. How were the women this week? Any good ones?” He asks as he shakes your drink up and pours it into a glass for you. He places your finished in front of you as you grab it and take a sip.

“They were alright. There was this one blonde who was very experienced; my god she gave me some of the best head I’ve ever had.” You spoke as you took another sip before placing the glass onto the counter.

Bucky was personally against your ways. However, it was who you were and not only were you a friend, but you were a customer. So as an employee, he wasn’t allowed to speak on how he felt. The customer is always right after all. So, Bucky just awkwardly excused himself as another customer came up to the counter and placed an order.

As Bucky walked away, you looked around the bar. Some people were dancing on the very tiny dance floor to some horrible music while some opted to just sit on the barstools by the bar and indulge in alcohol and food. Your eyes lit up when you caught sight of an attractive red headed woman that sat on the other side of the counter. Wow, she’s hot as fuck.

She had really gorgeous eyes and full, pink lips. You could tell she was a good kisser just from looking at her. Yeah, you were definitely going to get in her pants tonight.

“Hey Bucky! I want to place another order bud.” You called over to the bartender as he walked over to you. Bucky began to grab the same ingredients for your favorite drink, but you stopped him.

“Oh, no this won’t be for me. It’s for her.” You tilt your head in the direction of the woman you were previously ogling as you continued. “Give her another order of the drink she ordered and I’ll pay for it.” You smirk at him as Bucky just rolls his eyes as he makes a pina colada. Ah, a pina colada, not surprising; she seems like one of those.

You watch as Bucky serves the drink to the woman as she stares at him in confusion. Her eyes dart towards you and you smoothly wave at her with a smile. Bucky leaves the woman to herself as you stand up and make your way towards her.

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing in this crusty ass bar?” You flirt as you sit beside her. The mystery woman blushes at your compliment and replies. “I could ask you the same thing.” Oh yeah, she’s into you. You’re getting laid tonight for sure.

“You got me there. I’m Y/N, Y/N L/N.” You laugh as you extend your hand out to shake hers. “Wanda, Wanda Maximoff. It’s nice to meet you.” She gave you a kind smile as she accepted your outstretched hand and shook it gently. Her hands were so fucking soft, oh my god.

“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine Wanda.” You give her your best smile as you guys stare at each other. As the night progressed, you and Wanda had fallen into conversation. From the things you’ve heard about her tonight, you could tell she was different from other woman you’ve met. There was this level of confidence and genuineness about her that warmed your heart, but also turned you on to the fullest.

As expected, you and Wanda did the deed. But surprisingly, you broke one of your rules. You took her to your place. You have no idea why you did that, but there was something that drew you to Wanda. It was as if she didn’t want to be in your presence just for sex, but she asked you about you. Most woman you encountered only ever talked about themselves, some didn’t even care to know your name. But Wanda, Wanda was different.

After that night, you actually stayed in contact with the redhead. You had become friends with benefits. You would have movie nights together in your condo which turned into a lot more than a movie night. She was most definitely the best kisser and the best at sex. She was probably better in bed than you were to be completely honest. Not only that, but she was the sweetest person literally ever.

She’s the type of person who would actually help the elderly cross the street. She would capture spiders and free them outside instead of killing them. She even liked to plant, she had her own little garden on the fire escape of her apartment that she took very good care of. She was so much more than good sex. Her personality and caring nature caused you more bliss than any orgasm ever could.

Your little friends with benefits arrangement went on for 6 months. You and Wanda agreed to keep it strictly no strings attached. You were so grateful that the idea was a mutual one, because you didn’t do relationships; you don’t do feelings.

However, not all things go according to plans. One day, Wanda had come over to your apartment looking as nervous as ever. You had no idea what she wanted to talk about. She had just texted you 20 minutes prior that she needed to discuss something with you and that it was urgent. So obviously, you told her to come over as you anxiously went over what she could possibly want to talk to you about.

As you let Wanda into your home, she began to pace back and forth in your living room. You watched her as she moved around a little more before she stopped and turned to face you where you stood by the door.

“Y/N, I want to be more and I have feelings for you.” Wanda blurted out so quickly that her words sounded jumbled together, but you heard what she said loud and clear. You stood there dumbfounded as your thoughts went at a speed of 100 miles per hour.

She had feelings for you? But you don’t have feelings for her… do you? I mean you think about her a lot and always want to spend time with her. You always picture her bright smile and shining emerald eyes before you go to sleep. And sure, you stopped sleeping with other women when you started sleeping with Wanda, but that didn’t mean you have feelings for her right? No, no you shouldn’t, you can’t have feelings for her or for anyone. Not again anyway.

“What the fuck! You want more? We agreed that we would just be fuck buddies, no strings attached. Remember that?” You suddenly burst out in frustration not with Wanda, but with yourself. The fact that you were even considering you may have feelings for her was absurd to you. You refused to give in.

Wanda jumped at your screaming and flinched at your tone. “I know Y/N, but you can’t tell me that there’s more to this than sex. You’re more than being good in bed to me.” Wanda sighed as she ran her hand through her beautiful, fluffy hair that you want to play with all the time. Wait, what? No. No. No.

“I’ve caught feelings for you Y/N/N. And i’m sorry, but I can’t control how I feel.” Wanda made one step toward you and you immediately backed away from her. Every fiber of your body was screaming at you to get closer to her and pull her into your arms, but you couldn’t. You’re you. You don’t do that with woman you sleep with.

“Isn’t that what you wanted in the first place when you flirted with me in that car. You wanted a good fuck like the whore that you are. And I gave you that repeatedly. Isn’t that enough?” You spoke harshly with no remorse. Of course, you didn’t really think she was a whore, she was far from it. But you were conflicted and upset, you weren’t thinking clearly and would say anything to get her to rethink this. Rethink her feelings for you.

Wanda’s heart broke at the slur you called her, but she didn’t falter. She knew you, whether you wanted to believe it or not. Sleeping with other woman seemed to be a coping mechanism for something you had went through. She didn’t take anything you were saying to heart in this moment.

Before Wanda had the chance to speak, you beat her to it as you began to grab your keys from the table beside you.

“You can’t control how you feel, but I can control whatever we are. I don’t feel the same way. We either remain friends with benefits or nothing at all. That’s as close to a relationship as I’ll give you.” You said with finality as you walked out of your apartment, leaving Wanda stood there shell shocked as the slam of the door echoed as you closed it sharply behind you. You needed to get out of there.

You got into your car and just drove with no destination in mind. You needed a moment alone with your thoughts. You just couldn’t commit to a relationship, you couldn’t have feelings for anyone; even Wanda. She was too pure, you would just corrupt her.

Your last relationship didn’t end well. Your ex girlfriend, Natasha, had cheated on you with your best friend; Steve. She had been going behind your back with him for 3/4 years of your relationship. She practically cheated on you the whole time you were together with someone you considered to be a brother. They both had the balls to face you everyday and pretend to love and care for you while they betrayed you over and over again.

You were absolutely in love with Natasha. You thought she was your forever, but she didn’t feel the same. She betrayed you in the worst way possible with no remorse whatsoever. She had broken a bond between you and Steve that you thought was unbreakable. But Steve obviously didn’t value your friendship at all if he had been screwing your girlfriend happily.

You had given Natasha all of you and she repaid you with heartbreak. She and Steve ended up getting together immediately after you called it quits. While you sobbed over the betrayal and heart ache, they were happy together. And you turned into a shell do the person you once were. Since the breakup, you had boycotted love and feelings. You began to sleep with women to try and forget everything, but it failed. Even if it didn’t really work, at least you didn’t spend the nights alone in the place you had shared with the woman who broke you.

You knew Wanda wasn’t your ex, she was the opposite of Natasha. She took your thoughts and opinions into consideration. You knew deep down Wanda would never hurt you to that extent, and maybe that’s what you liked so much about her, but the feelings you had for her were even stronger than the ones you had for your ex. You constantly wanted to be around Wanda, you wanted to hear every detail about her day no matter how big or how small they were. You wanted to cuddle up next to her and watch her favorite shows for hours on end and fall asleep next to her.

Holy shit, you had feelings for her too. But you can’t give in, you can’t! Feelings lead to pain. Love is just not in the cards life had dealt for you. As good of a person as Wanda was; good people can’t break hearts too. That was a risk you wouldn’t be able to take. Relationships were a gamble, and you never had luck on your side. You had never won the relationship lottery.

You couldn’t allow yourself to succumb to your feelings for someone else. Having feelings for another person gives that person power over you; you refused to be powerless. That couldn’t happen, no matter how much you wanted nothing more than to have Wanda by your side.

——————————————————————————

2 weeks later

After the confrontation with Wanda and the revelation to yourself of your feelings for her, you began to avoid Wanda like the plague. She texted and called you everyday since and you ignored each and every one of them. It killed you to not talk to her and it absolutely sucked not being able to see her or hear her voice, but you were stubborn. Truthfully, you were probably hurting more than Wanda was. Your heart was begging you to just take a chance with Wanda, but your mind was powerful and overpowered your feelings.

Wanda was growing extremely frustrated with you. She knew you were scared to commit, but you didn’t need to be a dick about it. You were acting like a child avoiding her instead of talking about it like adults. Wanda finally broke and decided to show up to your apartment unannounced. It was the afternoon on a Saturday, so she knew you would be home. She was right.

Wanda pounded on your door and you swung it open. Your eyes widened at the sight of Wanda as she pushed past you and forced her way into your apartment. You didn’t even get to fully close the door before she began to yell at you.

“Seriously? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks! I know you’re terrified of relationships for some reason, but you need to fucking grow a pair and face me like a civilized person!” She yelled at you as she got in your face, your back against the door.

“If you don’t have feelings for me, that’s fine. I can’t control your feelings, but at least have the decency to talk to me about it instead of ignoring me like one of the tramps you sleep with!” Wanda hit your chest with her pointed finger as she stared into your eyes, fury present within them. Seriously, it looks could kill, you’d be incinerated and six feet under right now.

“Wanda, I… I do like you. I have feelings for you.” You spoke surprising Wanda and yourself. For weeks you had been in mental anguish as you reeled and contemplated your feelings for Wanda. In this moment, with her yelling at you and putting you in your place, you knew you needed her in your life. You needed to take the risk or you’d regret it for the rest of your life.

Wanda backed away from you slightly, not believing your words. “I swear to god if you’re just saying that so you can get laid aga-“ you cut Wanda off as you closed the distance between you both and pulled her into a passionate kiss.

You guys had kissed many times before, but never like this. You put so much emotion into it, the kiss saying the things you couldn’t say out loud. Wanda seemed to get the message as she profusely kissed you back, matching your passion and urgency. You both finally pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily as you looked into Wanda’s eyes.

“I’ve gotten my heart broken before Wanda, and it destroyed me. You were right to say Im terrified of relationship, I’m scared of love. I have trust issues; I’m not perfect.” You cupped Wanda’s cheeks with both of your hands as she stared at you.

“So, I mean it when I say that I have feelings for you. I want to be more. I’m sorry for the things I said to you, for calling you a whore. You’re not even close to being a whore. I’m so sorry Wands.” Wanda’s eyes softened as she placed her hands atop yours. Your voice was shaky as you voiced your feelings, something you never thought you’d do again.

“I would like to be more with you too, if that’s what you still want. I’ve been an asshole so I completely and totally understand if you don’t want t-“ Your rambling was cut off as Wanda removed her hands from your face and pulled you by the neck into another kiss.

This kiss was shorter than the previous one as she broke it too quickly for your liking. “I would love nothing more Y/N.” Wanda gave you a wide smile and you returned the smile.

You were finally allowing yourself to feel again. After you got your heart broken, you never ever thought you’d end up with someone else. But now here you were, getting a fresh start with Wanda. With her by your side, you would never have to be scared to love again.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞

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𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A true enemies to lovers ;)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: strong language, fighting, peter cries lol

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, confused feelings, age gap (reader of age), hate sex 18+, angry makeout turned soft, smut 18+, vulgar language, brutal insults, it’s just all mean

𝐀/𝐧: I saw someone on tiktok say that they wanted a real, tense, and slow burn enemies to lovers fic with like constant bickering and fighting so welcome to my new series. not so much slow burn however because i wanted to keep this series kinda short :)

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(𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞)

To say you and Bucky got along would be the biggest lie of the century.

You could look up every goddamn synonym for the word hate and you’d feel like each one for the bastard.

You couldn’t stand Bucky and he couldn’t stand you. Every second you two were together there was fighting yelling, screaming, everything to make everyone even in the same building uncomfortable. In the beginning you guys were nice but as time went on, you two just couldn’t get along.

It started with eye squints and fake laughs, then it went to eye rolls and scoffs, and now it’s borderline verbal abuse and physical fights.

Everyday there was something you were fighting about. Right now it had to do with the fact the Bucky was breathing too loud in your proximity. And you swore he was doing it on purpose.

“Do you have to breathe like that?” you shot.

“Yes, Y/n. I need to fucking breathe. It’s a part of life, dumb ass.”

“Watch your fucking mouth, Barnes.”

“Says you, bitch.”

“I swear to god, you cunt!” I grabbed a glass of water and threw the whole damn cup at him. Glass shattered under him and he stormed at you with balled fists. You have your hands ready too, black mist swieling around your hands. You were prepared to beat the shit out of him in the blink of an eye; no hesitations.

“Stop it!” Nat shouted, running in with Steve and the rest of the team. Wanda used her powers to practically throw you two to the opposite sides of the room.

“What the hell happened?” Steve asked.

“He was breathing too loud!” you shouted.

“She’s a bitch!” Bucky yelled at the same time.

“Can you guys go one day, just one fucking day without trying to kill each other?” Tony said, rubbing his eyes in distress.

“No!” you both screamed and walked out the room, avoiding each other like a disease.

==================================

Later that day you all gathered in the living room to drink and watch a movie, which mostly just turned into talking while a movie played as background noise.

“So are you talking to anyone lately?” Nat said snuggling to you side a bit.

“No, I’m not. Not really into the early twenties party vibe that guys my age are always doing.”

“Date older,” she sipped her drink.

“I think I’d rathered just wait.”

You heard Bucky scoffing at what you said, eavesdropping like the low life he was.

“What are you scoffing at?” you aggressed.

“Nothing, just laughing at how you think you’re choosing to not get laid.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Y/n, no one in their right damn mind would ever want to sleep with you.”

“Coming from the 40s player who lost his play during the 70 years of torture.”

“Y/n,” Nat warned.

“Tell me, James. When was last you had the balls to even talk to a woman; hell even leave the goddamn compound when  it’s not a mission. You wanna call me a fucking prude? When you get some pussy then you can shit on the fact that I don't get dick.”

Bucky didn’t even snap back he simply grabbed a stool and threw at you with so much force. You brought your hands up and used your powers to surround yourself and Nat with a black forcefield that shattered the wood stool upon impact.

You brought the force down your face filled with shock and anger.

“I get it if you want to hurt me but try and put my friends in your cumshot line of danger and I’ll tear you apart in front of everyone!” you picked him up, black smoke circling around him as he wriggled in the air.

Steve and Vision yelled for Wanda, she was the only one more powerful than you. She ran in and sedated your mind with her powers making you fall unconscious falling to the ground. Bucky fell down too, choking and gasping desperately for the air you had restricted

Steve picked you up and walked towards Buck.

“You guys went too far,” he nudged his head towards Peter where he was crying, his head buried in Tony’s chest. Bucky looked around to see everyone tense and for once scared of you and him.

He quickly ran to his room where he locked the door to be left alone in silence. He took a shower to relieve the tension building in his body. He didn't mean to make Peter cry. He didn’t realize he was crying himself until he got out of the shower and noticed his red nose and puffy eyes in the mirror.

He rolled eyes and went to bed not bothering to change into anything; he just wanted to sleep and forgot about being humiliated.

You woke in the early hours of the morning with your head pounding. You weren’t in your room but quickly found yourself in Natasha’s. She was sound asleep beside you probably to make sure you’d wake up safe and ok. You gathered yourself and went to reach for the door before Nat had called for you.

“You should just stay,” she said.

“I was gonna head back to my room.”

“Yeah but we need to talk.”

“Then I’ll swing by tomorrow morning,” you responded quickly before leaving just as fast.

“Y/n,” you heard her call out. You waited a second to see if she’d follow you but when she didn’t you went to your room to sleep until in your own bed. You admit to yourself that you had lost control a little bit this time, but you were still pissed that Bucky put others in harm’s way under your account.

However, what happened happened and all you can do is prepare yourself for the team to hate you and Bucky and continue to make false promises for the future.

[junghelioseok]

covenant.

↳ your best friend’s engagement forces you to reevaluate your own feelings.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | angst | werewolf!au | f2l!au ◇ 16.4k [1/1]

⇢ arguably also an arranged marriage!au, ft. kinda sorta dumbasses to lovers? a very, very late bday fic for the most beautiful man in the universe and my favorite funky lil dancer. ♡

notes: i started this in my drafts well over three months ago and all it said was “this ain’t gonna be on time for hobi’s bday i can feel it” and damn if past!me wasn’t right on the money!!! this has undergone three edits, going from 14.6k to 16.4k somehow, and i am going to lose my whole damn mind if i don’t just post it so here it is! hope you enjoy!

warnings: dom!hobi, alpha!hobi, bit of dirty talk, oral (f receiving), some grinding against hobi’s thigh, knotting, hobi’s got a big dick idk, also he’s in heat!!! but things eventually get really soft bc i love him and am a Soft Bitch™ 🤷🏻‍♀️

It’s going to rain.

You can smell it in the air and feel the damp chill against your skin, permeating through every layer of your clothing. The surrounding forest and all its occupants seem to be collectively holding their breath, waiting for the first drops to come. Even your footsteps, soft as they are against the loamy earth, sound much too loud in the hush that’s fallen. Dark clouds gather overhead, looming like an omen, and you silently reach into your purse to check that the umbrella you’d stowed this morning is still there. Vaguely, you wonder if it’s big enough for two.

Around you, the trees slowly begin to dwindle, until there’s only open sky above your head and a wide grassy expanse beneath your feet. A certain heaviness lingers in the air here—a low thrum of energy, born from the ancient magic that sleeps in the gnarled roots of the tree that sits in the center of the clearing. You can feel it prickling along your skin, raising gooseflesh and igniting your veins, and the closer you get, the stronger the feeling becomes.

At the far end of the clearing, you spot a small crowd of people, all clad in black. Your best friend—and your entire reason for venturing out today—stands amongst them in a tailored suit, his black tie snug at his throat and laid atop a charcoal gray shirt. He’s chatting with his father and a few other family members, seemingly calm and collected, but you can tell from the sloppy knot of his tie and the way he fidgets with the hem of his jacket that he is anything but. After all your years of friendship, you can read Jung Hoseok like a book. His auburn hair is disheveled as if he’s been incessantly raking his fingers through it, and even at a distance, you can sense the turmoil in his aura, haloing him like the stormy clouds overhead.

Sensing your approach, Hoseok’s gaze flickers up to meet yours. He raises a hand in greeting and bids farewell to the people he’d been chatting with, picking his way over to you with a wan smile.

“Hey. You made it.”

“I wouldn’t miss this,” you reply, reaching out to take his hand. It’s warm and strong as always, but you don’t miss the slight tremor in his grip. “How are you holding up?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, a sigh escaping his lips and dissipating into mist in the wintry air. “As well as can be expected, I guess. It just… it all happened so fast.”

“I know,” you murmur, twining your fingers together in quiet reassurance. “I’m so sorry, Hobi.”

“Thanks.”

Slowly, his gaze flits to the center of the clearing where the ancient tree sits, traversing from the leafy canopy all the way down to where the gnarled roots disappear into the dirt. In its shadow sits a polished wooden casket, and you squeeze Hoseok’s hand gently as he walks closer, his eyes beginning to glisten.

“I still can’t believe he’s gone, you know,” he mumbles. “All these years of war, of negotiations and peace talks, finally seeing the Accords pass and the company flourish… and now he’s gone. Cancer. Just like that.”

His voice cracks on the last sentence, and you clasp his hand a little tighter. You know as well as he does that a healthy werewolf can live for well over a century, if not for the human genetics that remain susceptible to human weaknesses and disease. True immortality afflicts only the faeries and the vampires of your world—and even then, there are still ways that those folk can die.

“He lived a long life,” you say after a moment’s hesitation, grasping onto any semblance of comfort you can offer. Together, you and Hoseok come to a stop in the shadow of the tree, peering at the closed casket where his grandfather lays. “And it was a good, just life. Not all of us can say that.”

A lone, wet droplet falls onto the polished mahogany, and Hoseok hastily wipes his eyes, tilting his head skyward. “Not long enough,” he whispers. “He still had so much to do. I… I still have so much I wanted to do—to say. And now I’ll never be able to.”

You caress a thumb across his knuckles, the motion soft and tender. “I know. And I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”

Hoseok glances down at that, a glimmer of something manic and desperate swimming in his amber-flecked irises. “You could,” he says, grabbing both your hands and clutching them to his chest like a lifeline. “You could bring him back. You know how, don’t you?”

You shake your head sadly, hating the way his frown deepens as you free yourself from his grasp. “That’s forbidden magic, Hobi. That’s necromancy. You know I can’t do that.”

Hoseok’s entire body sags, his shoulders slumping as he lets out a heavy sigh. Instinctively, you step forward to wrap him in a hug, and he loops his arms around your waist automatically, pulling you flush against him. “I know,” he mumbles into your hair. Then he huffs out a dry chuckle, humorless and deprecating. “Fuck. I’m a mess, huh?”

You don’t answer. You don’t need to. Instead, you hold him a little tighter, rubbing his back soothingly in long, slow motions—the same way his mother used to do during bedtime. His heart thuds erratically in his chest, fast and frenzied like a caged bird, but lulls as you continue your ministrations, settling into an even rhythm once more.

“Thank you,” he murmurs after a few moments, his warm breath caressing your cheek. “For coming today. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You can do anything, Hobi,” you reassure, running a thumb along the sharp line of his jaw when he raises his head to look at you. “With or without me. But… you’re welcome, all the same.”

Your presence at this funeral is unusual, and both you and Hoseok know it. Werewolf packs tend to keep their rites and ceremonies private, and the Gwangju pack is no different. Led by Hoseok’s father, and his late grandfather before him, the werewolves of the city have rapidly risen to prominence and power, aided in large part by the founding of JungTech. The company, started by Hoseok’s grandfather, began as a small operation in a battered old warehouse, but quickly grew to become one of Gwangju’s biggest corporations after the signing of the Accords twenty years ago. The peace treaty marked the start of a tenuous coexistence between humankind and Shadowfolk, and, together with your fellow witches—along with the werewolves, vampires, and the few fair folk who decided to leave their homes deep in the forests—you migrated into cities all over the country to forge new lives.

It’s proven easier for some. While the wolves of the city have found tolerance—acceptance, even—you have not fared quite as well. Humans, you have found, tend to fear the ancient magic that runs through your veins. Though nothing you’ve faced comes remotely close to what your ancestors faced in centuries past, you remain wary of those who take a little too much interest in your abilities.

You’re a bit paranoid, your familiar, Bast, has remarked on more than one occasion. But it’s justified, so I suppose it’s all right.

As if sensing that your thoughts have turned to him, Bast stirs in the back of your mind. You feel him yawn and stretch lazily before there’s a tug on the soles of your feet, as if the force of gravity has suddenly, inexplicably doubled. Then he’s materializing—morphing out of the spot where your shadow would be if the sun were shining, taking the form of an inky black cat with sharp, golden eyes. Hoseok perks up when Bast loops between his ankles, and immediately squats down to scratch behind his ears, a small smile settling across his face as a low, content purr rumbles up from beneath his fingertips. From elsewhere in the clearing, a single howl rises up into the air, forlorn and wavering.

It’s starting, Bast says in your head. At the same time, Hoseok straightens to his full height, fiddling with the hem of his black jacket and looking over at you tentatively.

“Sounds like they’re getting started,” he says.

You nod. “I should go.”

Hoseok opens his mouth as if to protest—as if to say no, stay—but you know better and cut him off with a single raised finger.

“I’ll go,” you murmur. “This is a private rite, and I don’t want to break centuries of tradition by overstaying my welcome. Go join your pack, Hobi.”

“Will I see you later?”

“Without a doubt.”

Your parting gesture is to reach out and grab his hand, tucking a little drawstring bag into his palm and closing his fingers over it. “Valerian root and chamomile,” you tell him gently, taking in his rumpled collar and the dark bags beneath his eyes. “Make some tea tonight. It’ll help.”

Hoseok swallows and nods, his features softening as he gazes down at his hand cupped in your smaller ones. He looks like he wants to say something, but another howl interrupts, disrupting whatever thoughts he may have had. Instead, he nods again, murmuring a soft goodbye before turning on his heel to join the rest of the pack gathering around the raised casket. You turn as well, leaving behind the ancient clearing with Bast trotting by your side.

Up above, the heavens finally open, drenching the dirt path beneath your feet with rain. And behind you, the single howl is joined by dozens more, echoing mournfully up into the weeping sky.

///

You’re in the middle of straightening out a display of dittany when the kettle begins to boil, emitting three short, shrill whistles accompanied by a long stream of whirling steam. When silence falls over the shop once more, you wander over to where the kettle sits—atop a small wooden end table next to an old wardrobe. It’s an old relic that’s been passed down through generations of witches in your family, wrought out of silvery metal and suspended in an iron frame above a single lit candle. The flame is glowing pink, flickering in a nonexistent gust of wind, and you smile. Quietly, you grab two teacups from a nearby shelf.

Not two seconds later, the door of the old wardrobe creaks open, revealing the familiar face of Kim Seokjin behind it. A fellow witch and a good friend of yours, Jin has made a name for himself as a baker, running a café in Seoul that offers all sorts of confections—both with magical properties and without. His hair is dyed a muted dusty rose—a stark contrast to the casual black hoodie and jeans he’s wearing—and you reach out to push a stray lock back from his forehead in lieu of a greeting.

“Your hair’s pink again,” you remark. “I like it.”

Jin grins, his plush lips pulling back to reveal perfect teeth. “Thanks.” Carefully, he steps out of the wardrobe and shuts the door behind him. A beat of silence passes, and you take the opportunity to select a canister of tea leaves. You don’t miss the flicker of solemnity that settles into Jin’s features, though, listening as he clears his throat before voicing the question that is undoubtedly the reason behind his unexpected visit.

“So. How’s Hoseok holding up?”

Jin has never been one to mince his words. You suppose you appreciate that about him.

Quietly, you lift the kettle out of its stand and beckon for him to join you at the little wooden table at the front of your shop. It’s tucked neatly into the nook carved out by one of the two bay windows on either side of the front door, flanked by two well-worn, mismatched chairs. Atop it sits a pile of books—everything from ancient remedies to common household spells.

One book in particular always sits open—a detailed list of all the herbs and plants you carry in your shop, along with the various concoctions you’ve created with them. Hellebore, the spine of the book reads, and it’s the same word that graces your storefront in flowing, golden text. An apothecary of sorts, you spend your days dealing out potions and remedies to those in need, both human and Shadowfolk. You do your best to help, for all the times modern medicine has come up short and left someone wanting.

“Honestly? I don’t think he’s been sleeping.” You set the teacups down onto the table and fill them both before handing one over to Jin. “I saw him this morning, at the funeral. He looked exhausted.”

Jin’s brows disappear behind his pink hair. “You went to the funeral?”

“I didn’t stay,” you clarify, taking a sip of your tea. “Just wanted to drop by, say hello, and pay my respects.”

“Werewolves are a private bunch,” Jin remarks. “I’m surprised.”

You shrug. “Hoseok wanted me to be there. So I went.”

“I see.” He doesn’t say anything further, and neither do you, lapsing instead into a comfortable silence that’s broken only by the occasional sip of tea and the clinking of china. Your gaze wanders, drifting over to the front door of your shop, painted a cheerful green and set with a flowery stained glass window that throws kaleidoscopic rainbows across the cream walls and dark wooden floor. Sunlight streams through the wide bay windows, illuminating the interior in warm, hazy gold. On the other side of the room, Bast is curled up, fast asleep on his favorite plush bench beside the glass door that leads to the greenhouse, perfectly haloed by the sun.

“Must be nice being able to fall asleep anywhere,” you mutter, almost to yourself.

Jin hears you anyway, a chuckle escaping his lips. “You sound jealous.”

“Maybe I am,” you reply, laughing with him. “Speaking of which, where’s Adam? Did he stay home?”

Jin nods, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the wardrobe. “Yeah, he’s keeping an eye on the café. Told me to say hi to you for him, though.”

You giggle at the thought of Jin’s familiar, a long-haired sheepdog with a stubborn streak the size of the Nile and blatant disdain for following orders—especially those that come from Jin himself. “Keeping watch, or trashing the place?” you tease.

“With my luck, probably both,” Jin admits with a sigh. “I should probably get back there soon. He ate all the egg tarts last time.”

“Bring him with you next time,” you advise. “Bast will keep him entertained.”

He grins. “I don’t doubt it.”

Finishing off the last of his tea, he stands up and taps the rim of his cup, murmuring a soft cleaning spell under his breath. You smile gratefully as he replaces it back onto the shelf with the others, and stand to walk him back over to the wardrobe. Opening up the creaky door, you watch him clamber inside, standing amongst the hanging coats and the single pair of shoes on the bottom shelf.

“See you later,” you murmur. “Give Adam my best.”

Jin nods. “See you.”

He shuts the door, and you watch the flame of the candle once again turn a soft, roseate pink. It flickers briefly, dancing in an invisible breeze, before reverting back to the color of regular fire, signaling Jin’s departure. Quietly, you clean your own teacup and return it to the shelf.

The remainder of the afternoon passes with few customers, so you opt to close down early and head to your apartment, located up a short flight of stairs on the second floor of the shop. You’re rifling through the refrigerator for dinner ingredients and humming softly under your breath when your phone suddenly rings, Hoseok’s name lighting up the screen in bright white text. “Hey, Hobi,” you say, swiping across the glass to answer. “What’s up?”

On the other end of the line, Hoseok exhales shakily. “Can you come over?”

You blink, glancing at the darkening sky outside. “Now?”

“Yeah. Fuck, sorry. I know it’s late, but I really… I really need to talk to someone. I—” His voice cracks, and your heart sinks. “I need you.”

“Say no more.” Straightening up, you shut the refrigerator door and tug off your apron. “I’ll be there in half an hour. Have you eaten yet?”

Hoseok sighs. “No.”

“I’ll bring takeout,” you decide, already glancing around for your purse. “See you soon, okay?”

Bidding him farewell, you don your coat and head out the door, locking up behind you. Hoseok lives downtown in a sleek, modern penthouse that’s normally a twenty-minute walk away from Hellebore, but after stopping by the restaurant on the corner for food, you opt to catch the bus instead. Fifteen minutes after you hang up the phone, you are rapping the bronze knocker on Hoseok’s front door, a paper bag and a bottle of wine in hand.

Almost instantly, the door is flung open. Hoseok stands in the threshold as if he’s been waiting there, his auburn hair wild and his eyes even wilder. His aura is turbulent, and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You raise the bag. “I brought dinner.”

“You’re the best,” he sighs, stepping aside to let you in.

Hoseok’s apartment toes the line between modern and cozy in a way that only Hoseok’s apartment could—with lush green plants and plushy, earth-toned furniture to offset the cold impersonality of the floor-to-ceiling windows and the stainless steel kitchen. Flicking on the kitchen light, you set the food down on the granite countertop and grab two wine glasses out of the cabinet. Hoseok sidles over as you pour a generous helping into each glass, rifling through the silverware drawer for utensils.

“Smells good,” he murmurs, popping a box open. “I’m starving. Thanks for bringing dinner.”

You brush off his gratitude and hand him a glass, raising yours so you can clink it gently against his. Quietly, the two of you fall into a comfortable routine, with Hoseok grabbing the food and you grabbing the bottle of wine to bring into the living room. You help him clear off the coffee table and arrange the food, then settle onto the couch beside him, sipping your drink in silence and patiently waiting for him to gather his thoughts. Years of friendship have taught you that he’ll talk when he’s ready, and you’re content to wait as long as he needs.

Sighing, Hoseok tips the rest of his wine back into his mouth before setting the empty glass down with a soft plink. “So,” he begins, not quite looking you in the eye. “My dad and I had lunch today.”

You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue. He takes several more seconds to muster up the words, and when he finally finds them, they’re exhaled in a tumbling rush. “He told me that he’s pleased with how I’m running JungTech. It’s been over a year, and things are going well… so he wants to expedite my takeover of the pack. In two months, he wants me to take over as the alpha. And…” He swallows. “He wants me to settle down.”

Perturbed, you blink. “What?”

Hoseok finally looks at you, his expression frighteningly devoid of emotion. “He wants me to get married, {Name}.”

Comprehension doesn’t settle in right away. But when it does, your jaw drops to the floor, landing somewhere alongside the ornamental persian carpet and a stray sock that has no doubt jumped ship from Hoseok’s laundry.

“W-what?” you manage after a few long seconds of gaping at him. “Why? Why now? That’s so… that’s completely out of the blue.”

Hoseok shakes his head, a few shaggy strands of auburn hair falling across his forehead and into his eyes. “It’s not, actually. He’s been talking about it for a long time—trying to arrange something with one of the other pack families. It’s tradition, you know? Mating within the pack, keeping the bloodlines pure through marriage. The difference is that Pops always talked him out of it. Always said I was too young, that there was no rush, that I should wait for someone I love, my true mate...” He sighs, heavily. “But he’s gone now. And Dad’s decided that he’s done waiting.”

You shouldn’t ask. You shouldn’t, because you know it’ll hurt, but the question comes regardless—leaving your lips in a near whisper. “Who?”

Hoseok takes a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he exhales. “Do you remember Im Nayeon?”

You do. You’ve known Nayeon almost as long as you’ve known Hoseok—the three of you having attended the same schools starting from elementary all the way up until Hoseok left to attend university in Seoul. Admittedly, you were never close—and if you were completely honest, you always found her to be a bit disingenuous for your tastes. Nevertheless, you often found yourself at the same events—parties and gatherings you attended at Hoseok’s request, and that she was privy to due to her family’s high-ranking status within the Gwangju pack.

“I remember,” you tell him, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. “Does… does she know yet? Have you met up with her?”

Hoseok nods. “She was there this morning, at the funeral. We talked a little bit and got coffee after, but… this is all happening so fast.” Slowly, he tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling, a sigh escaping his parted lips. “But there’s nothing I can do, right? It’s enough that Dad’s somehow talked Mom into the whole thing, but now he’s gotten the Council on board too. Did you know that Nayeon has an uncle on the Council? It’s insane, right?”

“Insane,” you agree in a whisper, doing your best to ignore the way your heart is splintering at the edges.

“You know, I always thought my Dad pressuring me was bad.” Hoseok buries his face in his hands, peering at you from between his splayed fingers when you hum in acknowledgment. “But this? The entire Council on my back? This is way worse.”

“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else there is to say. Your ribcage feels like it’s been split open and filled with burning coals, weighing hot and heavy on your insides.

Hoseok has dated in the past, of course. You both have—chasing that elusive, fluttery feeling called love and never quite being able to catch it and hold on. Hoseok’s last relationship fizzled long before he graduated from university, having lasted only about six months. You distinctly remember meeting the girl during one of your frequent visits to Seoul, at a small party hosted by Hoseok and his friends. By your next visit, however, things had already ended. He never really told you why the breakup occurred either—only that the relationship never would have lasted in the long run.

Perhaps foolishly, you chose not to pry.

“Is there anything I can do?” you ask softly. Reaching out, you take ahold of his hand and tug it into your lap, threading your fingers into the gaps between his. The gesture is familiar and comforting, like cocoa in front of a lit fireplace, and you can’t even begin to fathom the idea of another person sitting here and holding his hand in your stead.

“Just talk to me,” Hoseok entreaties, squeezing your fingers. “Distract me. What’s going on with you?”

You hum, swallowing down the lump in your throat and letting your head fall onto his shoulder as you pick through the events of the past week for the most interesting tidbits. “Bast has been bringing me dead rats lately,” you finally say, nose scrunching at the memory. “You should see the size of them—they’re almost bigger than he is. And they smell like the sewers, because I’m ninety-nine percent sure that’s where he’s getting them from. It’s horrid.”

Hoseok huffs out a stilted laugh. “Sewer rats? Gross.”

“It’s not all bad, to be honest,” you tell him, nestling a little closer to the warmth of his body. Hoseok keeps his apartment chillier than you’re accustomed to, and you’re beyond grateful for the furnace-like heat he gives off naturally. “The bones are pretty useful. The tails too, provided you don’t tell people what they actually are.”

His laugh is much more genuine this time. “Tricky little minx,” he says, amusement lacing his tone. “I’ve always liked that about you.”

You ignore the uptick in your heart rate at his approval, grateful that he can’t see your face as a pulse of heat flushes your cheeks. Instead, you burrow into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. Hoseok smells like the forest—fresh and woodsy, with a slight floral undercurrent from his fabric softener. It smells like home, and you smile when his arm comes up to wrap around your shoulders.

“Jin came by today,” you murmur.

“Yeah?” The monosyllabic response rumbles through his chest.

“Yeah. He asked about you, too. You should probably text him later.”

Hoseok hums a confirmation, and, satisfied, you cuddle a little closer to him. You pull at the afghan he keeps laid over the back of the couch, laying it comfortably over your lap as he rests his head gently atop yours, his ear pressed to your crown. Your eyes fall shut as you listen to the rhythmic thud of his pulse—solid and steady, backed by the soft hum of the refrigerator and distant traffic on the street far below.

It’s comfortable, sitting with him like this. Comfortable, stroking his arm with your fingertips, in time with the drumbeat of his heart. Ever so gradually, Hoseok’s breathing evens out, and you briefly think that you could stay like this—encapsulated in this delicate, iridescent bubble of contentment—for the rest of your life.

You know the thing about bubbles, though? Bast remarks dryly in your head. They burst.

I know, you sigh.

I know.

///

There’s something soothing about taking inventory—something calming in the repetition of walking down the aisles of Hellebore and restocking the shelves one by one. You’d woken this morning to an apologetic Hoseok making pancakes in the kitchen, his residual heat and woodsy scent lingering on the blanket tucked around your body. After a harried breakfast and a promise to text you later, Hoseok rushed off to the office.

You, in turn, returned to your shop, where you grabbed every ounce of cleaning supplies you possess and scrubbed the place from top to bottom, foregoing all of your usual dishwashing charms and dust-clearing jinxes. The physical labor is a welcome distraction from the events and revelations of last night, and you’ve thrown yourself wholeheartedly into all the chores you need to complete.

“Almost out of rosehip oil,” you mutter, eyeing the half-empty vial and making a note to extract more from one of several plants in your greenhouse. “Low on valerian too, hmm…”

The bell over the front door jingles merrily, diverting your attention away from your task. “{Name}?” a voice calls softly. A moment later, a familiar head of coppery red hair pops around the edge of the shelves, choppy bangs framing a soft, warm face. “Hey, there you are. You busy?”

You shake your head and shut your inventory book, setting it down on the nearest shelf. “Not terribly, no. What brings you here today, Lisa?”

Lisa’s answering smile is sheepish. “Got something to return,” she says, holding up a little glass jar full of lavender colored pills that you immediately recognize. “I’m guessing you’ve already heard the news. Looks like I won’t be needing these anymore, right?”

Your laugh sounds brittle, even to your own ears. “Right. Yeah. Not anymore.”

For just over ten years, Lisa has been the wolf assigned to help Hoseok through his heat. Between his family’s status and his longtime designation as the next alpha of the Gwangju pack, it’s imperative for Hoseok to avoid anything that might be perceived as scandalous. Torrid sex stories splashed across tabloid covers is the last thing a man like Hoseok needs, and that’s where Lisa comes in. Once a year, for three days, she goes to him, and no one is none the wiser. Her job is one that calls for the utmost discretion, and as the daughter of a high-ranking Council official, no one understood that better than she did. You’d only found out because of your role as one of the few witches in the country who makes and stocks the proper contraceptives for such wolves—the dosage much stronger than the human equivalent.

And when Lisa had first approached you to purchase the pills, you’d dropped two jars and nearly set fire to a third. Your stomach had fallen to somewhere around your toes, right alongside the shattered glass and little lavender tablets.

You’d chalked the accident up to surprise. Hoseok hadn’t mentioned anything to you, after all, and you’d known very little about the intricacies of werewolf heats back then, having just opened your shop at age eighteen. But surprise doesn’t explain the snaking jealousy that bubbles up in your tummy every time Lisa comes in to restock her supply of pills, nor does it explain the overwhelming sense of relief you feel now as she presses the unopened jar into your hands.

“I still can’t believe he’s going to be the most powerful man in Gwangju soon.” Lisa steps back, tucking her hair behind her ear and letting out a soft sigh. “And now he’s engaged, too. It’s pretty crazy, huh?”

“Crazy,” you agree tonelessly, turning to replace the jar onto the appropriate shelf.

Lisa, however, is nothing if not perceptive. A gentle hand lands on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. “Hey,” she begins, soft and slow. “You know you can talk to me, right? Are you—?”

But the sound of the bell drowns out the rest of her question, metallic and bright in the quiet of your shop. “Hello? Anyone home?” a cheery voice asks.

“Be right there,” you say immediately, shrugging off Lisa’s hand and stepping out from amongst the shelves. There’s a young woman standing at the checkout counter, rifling through the collection of seeds on display, and you cringe as she replaces a few packets in the wrong spots. “How can I help you?”

At the sound of your voice, the woman turns gracefully on her heel, her expression a perfectly crafted amalgamation of surprise and delight. “{Name}!” she exclaims, stepping forward with an outstretched arm. “Long time no see!”

“N-Nayeon,” you stammer, the shock of seeing her face freezing you in place. “What… what brings you here?”

The dark-haired woman steps forward to pull you into a hug, enveloping you in her fruity perfume. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to catch up with an old friend?” she asks playfully.

We were never friends, you want to say. In your head, Bast lets out a derisive snort of agreement. Lisa, you notice, has conveniently melted away somewhere amidst the organized chaos of your shop, disappearing into the myriad shelves and knickknacks.

“Plus, I really wanted to look at some flowers,” Nayeon continues, betraying her true purpose at last. “You’ve heard, haven’t you? About my engagement? I’m sure Hoseok—I mean, my fiancé—has mentioned it to you, of all people. You are his best friend, after all.”

The inside of the shop is beginning to feel stifling. Perspiration trickles down your neck and you tug at your collar, loosening the material from where it’s plastered against your skin. “Sure,” you manage, once you feel like you can breathe again. “Right. Sure. The flowers are right this way, if you want to follow me.”

I’d forgotten how much I don’t like her, your familiar remarks dryly in your head.

Shut up, Bast.

Mercifully, he does. There’s a tug on your feet, and you glance down just in time to see him morph out of the shadow you cast against the sun-drenched floor. Ghostly and amorphous at first, he quickly solidifies into the feline figure you’ve grown accustomed to, and slinks protectively around your ankles before darting off to perch in the cushioned bay window seat.

Conveniently, that’s also where the flower display is. Colorful blooms and trailing leaves adorn the wooden shelves and tables in this particular corner of the shop, and you force yourself to shift back into professional mode as you come to a stop in front of an assortment of honeysuckle. “So, what kind of flowers are you looking for?” you ask, brushing your fingers along the pale yellow petals.

Nayeon hums thoughtfully and picks up a potted rosebush, examining it from all angles. “Roses, maybe. Are roses too clichéd now?” She brings the crimson buds closer and inhales, eyes fluttering shut. “No matter. I’ve always liked them.”

“They’re beautiful,” you agree, turning your attention to the selection of roses lining the topmost shelf. “Do you have a color preferen—?”

“Or maybe these would be better,” Nayeon interrupts, plucking up a pale pink calla lily from the bouquet you keep in a table display. “Or that one—what is it?”

You follow the trajectory of her gaze to a bunch of little white flowers with golden centers, stark against the dark dirt and surrounding green foliage. “That would be bloodroot,” you answer. “One of my personal favorites—it’s both ornamental and medicinal. It would look lovely in a bouquet.”

Nayeon pulls a face and shakes her head. “No, no—I don’t want anything with such a horrible name. What about these?” she asks, reaching up to take a closer look at a larger bloom. “Peonies, right?”

By the time Nayeon makes it back to the checkout counter with a few sample rose cuttings in hand, you’re fairly certain that several eternities have passed. “Is there anything else you need?” you ask as you ring her up and wrap the flowers neatly in paper.

“A discount for an old friend?” she queries, shooting you a playful wink. When you don’t answer right away, she giggles. “I’m kidding! Obviously, I’ll pay. It’s not like I’m pressed for money—I mean, you’ve seen who my fiancé is, right? Now gosh, where did I put my wallet?”

Your cheeks are beginning to feel far too hot. Nayeon is still rummaging in her purse, and you quickly duck beneath the counter under the pretense of looking for some ribbon to tie off the bouquet. Fanning your face, you take a few deep breaths, listening as she continues chattering away.

“We’re having dinner tonight, actually, Hoseok and I. It’ll be our second real date, and… wait!” She gasps, and you peer up just in time to see her slap a hand over her perfectly lacquered mouth. “You should come! Bring someone, if you can—it’ll be like a double date!”

If you can? Bast snipes. Curse her.

You sigh inwardly and straighten back up, ribbon in hand. Shut up, Bast.

If you won’t, I will.

You’ll do no such thing.

Mustering up your best, most earnest smile, you hand over the wrapped flowers along with her change. “That sounds like fun,” you tell her, ignoring the way your insides lurch at the lie. “When and where?”

Nayeon beams and rattles off the address of an unfamiliar restaurant. “Don’t be late!” she calls as she heads for the door. The bell jangles cheerily as she departs, and as soon as the door shuts behind her, Lisa pokes her head around a nearby bookshelf.

“Finally,” she sighs, walking over to join you. “I thought she’d never leave.”

Ordinarily, you wouldn’t dare speak ill of a customer, but you’re willing to make an exception today. “You and me both,” you reply, watching as Bast slinks over like a shadow and hops onto the counter beside you. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your elbow in silent solidarity, and you mindlessly begin scratching behind his ears as Lisa speaks again.

“Are you really going to go to that dinner tonight?”

You meet her gaze, shrugging. “I already said I would. Do I really have a choice?”

There isn’t much else to say, and both you and she know it. Pushing off from where she’s leaning against the countertop, Lisa flips her coppery hair over her shoulder and shoots you a look, brown eyes full of sympathy. “Good luck,” she says sincerely. You get the feeling that she wants to say something else, but decides against it at the last minute. Instead, she bids you goodbye and walks out with a wave and another chime of the bell. Silence settles over the shop once more, and you allow yourself a few moments to breathe—slow and deep, in and out—before picking up your phone and opening up the most recent text messages. It doesn’t take long to find the name you’re looking for, but you still pause, thumbs hovering over the keyboard, before you begin to type.

[4:21pm] You: how would you like to join me for a very awkward dinner date?

[4:21pm] Jin: consider me intrigued.

///

You and Jin arrive at the restaurant first. It’s an ornate, palatial place with tuxedoed waitstaff and a coat room, and despite giving the name ‘Jung’ at the door, you’re certain that Hoseok played no part in the venue selection. The host ushers you to a booth tucked in the back, the cushioned seats a velvety burgundy and a chandelier glittering overhead, throwing refracted, iridescent light across the veined marble table. All of a sudden, the simple black dress you’re wearing feels painfully inadequate. Glancing down at your feet, you wonder if you should have worn heels instead.

Beside you, Jin cuts a striking figure in a creamy silk shirt with ribbons that tie into a bow at his throat, the material loose and flowy up until where it tucks into fitted black slacks. His pink hair complements the elegant outfit perfectly, parted and swept off his forehead to reveal his dark brows.

As if reading your mind, he lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You look beautiful,” he says, before gesturing at the booth. “Now, do you want the inside or outside? Think you’ll need to make a quick getaway at some point?”

“Probably,” you sigh. Jin nods and sits down first, and you watch him slide across the seat cushion before settling in beside him. “I still can’t believe you volunteered to be here,” you murmur, plucking up one of the folded cloth napkins and fiddling with the crisp white edges. “You’re a saint, I swear.”

Jin chuckles and plucks the napkin from your clasped hands, laying it across your lap instead. “Not a saint,” he says, matching your soft tone. “Just someone who cares about you.”

Your cheeks warm at his sudden proximity. “Thank you,” you tell him, for what must be the umpteenth time. “I can’t even imagine what I’d do without you.”

“Good thing you don’t have to, then,” he replies with a grin. “Now, chin up. They just walked in.”

You can’t help the groan that escapes you. “Is it too late to run?”

“Afraid so,” he answers honestly.

And then Nayeon is slipping into the cushioned seat opposite you, syrupy smile in place on her berry lacquered lips. “Hi!” she chirps, laying a hand on Hoseok’s arm as he sits down beside her. “Sorry we’re late. We, um…” She pauses and shoots Hoseok a conspiratorial look, giggling. “... lost track of the time.”

Your magic flares, hot and bright in your veins, and you know Jin feels it too when he lays a cautionary hand on your knee beneath the table. “We weren’t waiting long,” he says, offering the two a genial smile. He’s perfectly polite as he and Nayeon exchange quick introductions, and gestures toward the assortment of menus on the table as soon as everyone has settled down. “Why don’t we order some wine to start?”

“Oh, that’s a splendid idea! Isn’t that a splendid idea, Hoseok?” Nayeon turns to the auburn-haired man beside her, and you do the same, gaze landing on Hoseok for the first time tonight. He’s in an all black ensemble, sharp jacket layered over a silky black shirt, the top buttons loosened to bare a tantalizing sliver of golden skin. His auburn hair is parted, a stray lock falling across his forehead, and you shiver when you realize he’s staring right back at you with dark, unreadable eyes.

At the sound of Nayeon’s voice, Hoseok seems to snap out of his trance, his expression smoothing out as he plasters on a smile. “Take a look at the menu,” he says, picking up the leather-bound book and offering it to her. “Dinner’s on me.”

You blink. “We can’t let you do that, Hobi.”

“Let me pick up at least part of the tab,” Jin adds, already reaching for his wallet. “I’m no corporate bigshot, but I do well enough for myself.”

“No need to be modest,” you chime in, nudging him playfully. “Weren’t you just telling me about your new restaurant opening on the way over? Next week, right?”

Jin’s ears redden as all the attention is turned onto him. “Next week, yeah.”

“That’s amazing!” Nayeon chirps, pressing closer to Hoseok. “We’ll have to check it out sometime. Maybe a date night, right, darling?”

Hoseok busies himself with rearranging his cutlery, swapping the knife and fork around. “Right—sure. If we ever make it up to Seoul, we’ll, uh… we’ll definitely stop by. Congratulations, man.”

The conversation continues. A server stops by to take your wine order, and Jin decides on a moderately priced bottle of cabernet sauvignon. Glasses are brought over, and wine is poured. Hoseok finishes his quickly and pours himself another, and though his wolf metabolism prevents him from getting drunk off of regular wine, you know that he’s a bit of a lightweight and tends to avoid drinking heavily no matter what the beverage. He’s drinking with a purpose tonight, and you’re beyond grateful when Jin pipes up with yet another story when the conversation lulls.

“And then I found out that the oven was on the whole time! Adam would probably let the entire apartment go up in flames just to spite me—I should watch my back.”

“Or, you know, just watch the oven more closely,” you tease. “I’ve seen your place, Jin—it’s a complete fire hazard. It’s a wonder it hasn’t burned to the ground already.”

Jin sniffs. “You’re exaggerating. Stop making me look bad.”

“You make yourself look bad,” you retort, laughing when his lower lip juts out into a pout.

Across the table, Hoseok clears his throat. “Speaking of fire hazards—did I ever tell you about the time {Name} set me on fire?”

“I did no such thing!” you protest, reaching over to slap his arm. “I mean, okay, maybe a little bit, but that was one time! And you were barely singed!”

Hoseok snorts out a laugh. “Barely singed? I couldn’t sit properly for a week.”

“Oh please, that’s a lie and you know it!”

Nayeon interrupts your conversation with a loud huff, setting her wineglass down with enough force to thud against the veined marble tabletop. “Do one of you maybe want to fill us in on the joke here?”

Abashed, you glance back at Hoseok, watching as his smile slowly fades back into the careful, neutral expression he’s worn all evening. “Sorry,” you murmur. “It’s an old story from when we were kids—when we first met, actually. We were seven years old, and it was the second day of school. I didn’t have a very good handle on my magic yet, and accidentally set Hoseok’s tail on fire during recess.”

“I preferred to run around in my wolf form back then,” Hoseok further elaborates. “There was a big field out behind the school—remember that, {Name}?”

You nod. “Of course. It went right up to the very edge of the woods. And if you kept going and went far enough, you reached the old wooden bridge.”

Hoseok is smiling again, soft and fond. “That thing was a death trap.”

“But the teachers could never keep us away,” you say, grinning at him.

“All right,” Nayeon interrupts again, sniffing disdainfully. “Enough about the old days—I think it’s time to talk about the present. And more importantly, the future.” She sighs happily and props her chin up in her palm, ensuring that the delicate golden band on her ring finger is on full display, the metal glimmering in the warm light. “You’re both invited to the wedding, of course. And I never did properly thank you for the flowers today, {Name}!”

Her words seem to come as a surprise to Hoseok, who straightens up in his seat. “Flowers? You visited Hellebore today?”

“Of course I did!” Nayeon hides a giggle behind a manicured hand. “I wouldn’t even think of trusting anyone else with my bouquet.”

Hoseok’s gaze skitters over to you, awash with concern and tinged with apology, but you ignore him in favor of forcing your expression into something that’s meant to be a smile. Yet no matter how much you strain your cheeks and stretch your lips, it feels—and looks, you’re sure—far more like a grimace.

“I’m happy to do it,” you lie, your teeth gritted and tight. “I don’t mind it one bit.”

///

“So. That was just as awkward as promised.”

You and Jin are walking back to Hellebore, leaving behind the bustling downtown area for the darker, quieter streets of your neighborhood. Your companion’s hair is tinged orange in the glow from the streetlamps, and you can only chuckle humorlessly when he turns to you and raises his eyebrows.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I was duly warned,” Jin agrees.

A car drives by, the headlights throwing Jin’s profile into stark relief. His expression is solemn but he doesn’t say anything else and neither do you. The remainder of the walk passes in silence, broken only by the occasional strain of conversation from passersby and the low drone of late night traffic. You reach Hellebore with no incidents, and you muffle a yawn as Jin steps into the wardrobe to go back to Seoul.

Just before he shuts the door behind him, he shoots you a meaningful glance over his shoulder. “You should tell him how you feel, you know. He deserves to know. And you… you deserve to be happy.”

He doesn’t elaborate, and you don’t need him to. Long after he’s gone, his remark echoes in your head, and no matter what, you simply cannot seem to shake it.

///

It’s been years since you’ve last gone to the old bridge, but after last night’s conversation you find yourself pulled back, lured by the promise of memories of a kinder time. The forest beyond the field hasn’t changed much since your school days, and neither, you realize, has the bridge itself. It still stands tall, proudly spanning the steep ravine that your teachers warned you about, the rickety wood splitting apart at the seams and overgrown with lichen and climbing ivy. Far below, the white-capped river rushes by on its long, turbulent journey to the sea.

Carefully, you step onto the bridge—first one foot, then the other. The energy in the air shifts as soon as your feet leave the loamy earth, finding traction instead on hewn wood, and you sigh as your fingertips brush against the railing. The magic here is an old magic—different from the ancient magic that dwells in places like the werewolves’ clearing and the realms of the fae. The low thrum of it fills the air and seeps into your veins, quickening your pulse and prickling your skin.

“I thought you might be here.” The voice comes from your left, barely audible over the rush of the river.

“You thought right,” you reply, stepping forward until you’re toeing the railing and leaning over to stare down into the swirling, eddying waters below.

Hoseok joins you at the edge. His profile is stark against the leafy green backdrop, and for a few moments, all is still. Then: “I’m really sorry about last night.”

The apology hangs in the silence for a few moments before fading into the sound of churning water and wind whistling through the trees. You suck in a deep breath, oxygen swelling your lungs until you can hold it in no longer, before letting it escape in a resigned sigh.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Hoseok.”

“Maybe not. But I want to.” He shoots you a sidelong glance. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

You raise a brow. “Make it up to me? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

“Anything you want.” Hoseok smiles crookedly, but you can’t quell the tumult brewing in your belly.

“What do you want, Hobi?”

His smile fades. “I—” He stops and shakes his head, auburn hair flying. “It doesn’t matter what I want. This is about you.”

You gaze up at him, taking in the sharp cut of his jawline and the straight angle of his nose. Your eyes trail along the smooth slope of his rounded cheeks and the soft curve of his mouth, lingering on the little mole atop his upper lip.

And then you reach out and take his hand, savoring the way his fingers immediately, comfortably settle into the spaces between your own. “Why don’t we head down to the river?” you ask. “It’s been a long time since we’ve been, and I’ve missed it.”

Hoseok’s expression softens, a glimmer of something bright shining in his amber-flecked irises. Gently, he tugs on your hand, taking the lead as you leave the bridge behind and head north in search of the sloping path that will take you down and into the ravine that houses the riverbed. You chance a few glances over the treacherous edge, watching the water froth and tumble over the rocks.

“You know, this seems a lot more dangerous now than it did back then,” you muse. “I see why our teachers were always trying to keep us away.”

“We were kids back then,” Hoseok says, grinning. “We thought we were invincible. Nothing could touch us.”

“Simpler times,” you agree with a laugh. “I set your tail on fire, you cried—”

“—and then we became lifelong friends,” Hoseok finishes, joining in your mirth. “Easy-peasy.”

Together, you locate the path down to the ravine. The descent is easier than it was back then, your longer limbs extending your reach, but you’re grateful for Hoseok’s steadying hand all the same. He carefully guides you around the biggest rocks and tree roots, pulling you closer when you lose your footing near the bottom. His fingers remain twined with yours even after you’ve safely arrived at the riverbed, stepping across stones that have been worn smooth and warmed by the sun. You slip off your shoes, letting them dangle from your free hand, and Hoseok does the same.

Sunlight glitters off the water, throwing a thousand refractive diamonds across the surface, but when you dip your toes in you find that it’s cold as a mountain spring in autumn. That doesn’t stop Hoseok from bending down to splash you though, and you shriek in surprise before retaliating with a silent spell that sends icy water splattering across the faded denim of his jeans.

“That’s not fair!” he protests. “You can’t use magic!”

“I’m just using every resource available to me,” you reply with a sly grin, sending a swelling wave of water toward him with a lazy twist of your hand.

From beneath his drenched hair, Hoseok raises a challenging brow in your direction. “Oh yeah?”

Before you can even blink, he’s shrugging off his jacket and pulling his shirt over his head, baring a taut, honeyed abdomen and toned arms. Tossing the discarded clothes onto the bank, he unfastens his belt and lets that drop as well, fixing you with a crooked little smirk all the while. The muscles in his torso ripple.

And then he’s shifting—limbs elongating and reddish-brown fur sprouting from his skin. His remaining clothing rips under the strain of the transformation, floating downstream in tattered shreds, but you don’t pay them any mind. No matter how many times you’ve watched Hoseok shift, you’ll never quite get used to it. He hunches over, more beast than man at this point, his chest rumbling. And before you know it—before you can even pinpoint exactly when the transformation is complete—he’s standing before you as a massive russet wolf, baring ferociously sharp teeth that you know could easily tear a man limb from limb.

His eyes, however, remain the same—warm, molten brown flecked with amber and gold, a devilish twinkle lurking in their depths. You cock your head to the side in a silent challenge, and swear that the wolf in front of you grins before pouncing forward, landing in the river with an enormous splash that leaves you thoroughly drenched.

“Now we’re both soaked!” you cry in between giggles, watching as Hoseok emerges from the water, his fur dampened black and dripping. “How is this a win for you?”

Hoseok rears back and lets loose a triumphant howl, shaking himself out and further drenching you with the spray of water from his coat. You squeal and back up several steps, batting him away, but Hoseok just presses closer and nuzzles his wet face into the crook of your neck. His body heaves with every breath, flaring hot against your skin, and for a few long moments, you simply stand there, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck as icy water rushes past your ankles.

After what feels like an eternity, you step back, releasing Hoseok and staring up into his face. Even in his wolf form, he towers over you, and you reach up to stroke his muzzle tenderly before bopping him on the nose. “Come on,” you murmur. “Let’s dry off.”

Hoseok lets out a low rumble of agreement, and together, you make your way back to shore. You fold up his discarded clothing while he trots off to locate his shredded jeans, quickly finding them caught between some rocks and carrying the denim tatters back over to you in his teeth. Shaking your head, you add it to the growing pile and lay a hand atop it. Heat concentrates in your fingertips, mingling with the magic running through your veins. Stitch by stitch, his jeans repair themselves, drying in the process. Hoseok bumps your cheek with his nose in gratitude and darts off to change, and you dry your own clothes while you wait.

When Hoseok returns, he’s reverted to his human form, fully dressed and raking a hand through his damp hair. “Thanks for drying these off,” he says, flashing you a sheepish grin. “And for fixing my pants. Again.”

“Mending charms are easy,” you reply, and it’s the truth. Over the many years you’ve known Hoseok, you’ve mended his clothing countless times—from the accidental transformations in his early years, before he could control it, to the calculated ones as he got older. Hoseok doesn’t shift terribly often nowadays, but on occasion he still goes out to stretch his muscles and hunt with his pack. His grandfather, in particular, always made the time to take him hunting at least once a month. You wonder if he’s gone since he passed, but decide not to ask.

“Should we go see the Towers?” you ask instead.

“Lead the way,” he agrees, falling into step beside you as you head downstream. The ravine walls are higher here, decorated with gnarled roots and rocky outcrops that obscure the periwinkle sky and cast long shadows across the ground. Cairns begin to crop up on both sides of the river—each tower of stones carefully and deliberately stacked. They’re small and scattered at first, but gradually become taller and more frequent until you’re nearly surrounded by a forest of stone. The air grows noticeably heavier—the magic more potent. It almost feels as if electricity is dancing across your skin, the sparks sinking into your pores and melding with your soul.

Hoseok feels it too, if the look of awe in his eyes is any indication. “I can’t believe I’d nearly forgotten about this place,” he marvels, running a finger across one of the stacked stones. “Do you feel that? The magic?” Then he chuckles. “Wait, of course you do. What am I talking about?”

You smile softly, tracing the path his fingertips leave behind. “Yeah, Hobi. I feel it.”

The topmost stones are almost out of your reach now. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a gray pebble about the size of your palm—a near perfect disc veined with white. Gently, you place it atop the cairn closest to you, watching it glint in the sunlight for a moment before turning to your companion.

“Well?”

Ancient legend dictates that as long as an offering is left, one may take a stone from the Towers. You and Hoseok have each acquired a rather sizable collection during your childhood years, lured by the promise that the stones will bring about good fortune and happiness.

“I forgot to bring something,” Hoseok admits, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “But I can pick one out for you. Hang on…” He hums thoughtfully as he scans the towering pillars, tapping his chin until he alights on one in particular, plucking up a stone that’s been worn smooth, burnished orange and marbled with ivory and copper. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” you reply, admiring the way the marbled surface glitters in the sun.

Hoseok takes your hand and places the stone gently in your palm. “It’s yours.”

Then he’s off—stepping over a fallen log to admire another tower, brushing a curious finger across a moss-covered rock before glancing over his shoulder at you. “Coming?”

You nod, tucking his gift away safely in your pocket. Together, you carve out a path amongst the towering cairns, clambering over river rocks and brushing aside the dense undergrowth. The path opens up again gradually, revealing the burbling water to your left and the steep ravine wall to your right. The river is calmer here—clear enough to see all the way to the bottom where shimmering, silvery fish dart about. A low, flat rock juts out into the water a short ways away, and Hoseok strides over to plop atop it, gesturing for you to join him.

“This is nice,” he sighs once you’ve made yourself comfortable by his side. “The fresh air is doing me a world of good. I’ve been cooped up at the office for so long, I swear I almost forgot what trees smell like.”

“You’re more than welcome to sniff around the shop if you ever need a reminder,” you tell him, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Better yet, I’ll bring you a plant for your office. Spruce up the place a little bit.”

“That sounds great, actually,” he admits with a chuckle. “I don’t have your green thumb, though. I’ll probably end up accidentally killing it.”

“Something low maintenance, then,” you promise. “A succulent, maybe. When should I bring it by?”

Hoseok’s expression sombers. “You can always stop by tomorrow after the hearing.”

Your heart plummets into your stomach. The Ministry—the overarching government body that dictates all Shadowfolk affairs—summons every pack alpha for a confirmation hearing when they first come into power. “They’re holding the hearing? Already?”

He nods. “The Ministry’s summoned me for tomorrow morning. First item on their schedule, I’m pretty sure.” A resigned sigh escapes his lips, dissipating into mist on the air. “And there’s a party at JungTech HQ afterward. You know. So my dad can officially hand the reins over.”

“The most powerful man in Gwangju,” you murmur, thinking back to Lisa’s words.

Hoseok lets out a derisive snort. “Yeah, right. The most powerful man, beholden to his dad, the Council, and the entire fucking Ministry. It doesn’t matter what I want to do. Never has.”

It’s the second time he’s dismissed his feelings, and as much as you want to ask what it is he truly wants, you find that the words are stuck in your throat, your mouth suddenly as dry as the desert on a cloudless day. Instead, you lay a silent hand over his, feeling his warmth seep up into your palm.

“Hey.” Hoseok doesn’t tear his gaze away from the sky, watching a flock of birds fly overhead. “Yesterday, when Nayeon said she’d stopped by… did she say anything to you?”

The sound of her name leaving his lips leaves a sour taste on your tongue, but you swallow it down. “Not really,” you tell him. “She looked at some flowers and invited me to dinner. Simple as that.”

Hoseok nods slowly, lips pursed. “Was Jin already there when she came?”

You blink. “Jin? Oh, no—no, he wasn’t. I texted him after Nayeon left.”

“Ah.”

“I’m glad he was free, though.” You stare down into the water, where a curious fish swims in and out of the shadow you cast. “I’m honestly not sure who I could’ve invited if he hadn’t been available. Plus, it’s been ages since I’ve had dinner with him, and it’s been a few months since you’ve seen him too, right? I’m really happy it worked out.” You’re rambling now, but you can’t stop yourself. Hoseok has become eerily still, lost in introspection, and you feel obligated to fill the silence.

“You two make sense, you know.” Hoseok’s voice comes suddenly. “As a couple. Both witches—it makes a lot of sense.”

You peer over at him, eyes widening at his assumption. “We—we’re not actually together, Jin and I. We’re just friends.”

Hoseok straightens at that, his gaze flitting down to meet yours. “Really?”

“Really.”

A beat of silence. Hoseok looks like he wants to say something else, but a quiet buzz from his pocket stops him in his tracks. His mouth clamps shut as he checks his phone, teeth clicking together, and you can tell from the sudden tension in his jaw that it isn’t good news.

“Do you have to head back?”

He nods stiffly, silent apology written all over his face. “Work calls.”

You offer him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me. Go on. I’ll see you tomorrow after your hearing.”

He nods again and turns to leave. Before he can take too many steps, though, you call him back, reaching into your pocket to pull out the stone he’d gifted you earlier.

“Take this,” you murmur, pressing it into his hands. “I’m pretty sure you need it more than I do right now.”

Hoseok’s fingers curl protectively around the stone, holding on like it’s his only remaining lifeline. “Thanks.”

///

Downtown Gwangju is a monochrome forest of towering glass and steel, clamorous and unchecked by nature, proudly defiant in the face of the earth mother herself. The sidewalks are awash with people rushing back from their lunch break, forcing you to dodge around several businessmen too absorbed in their phones. Just as you are finding your footing again, a hapless intern carrying a tray of coffee cups rushes past, nearly crashing into you.

“Oh, shi—sorry! Sorry, oh, jeez. Are you okay?”

You wave off his apology with a smile, taking in the ill fit of his suit and the messy knot of his tie. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, reaching out to help him steady the tray in his hands. A stabilizing spell—silently cast, the magic pulsing through your fingertips—should be enough to get him back to his office with no additional mishaps. You wonder if he’ll notice that his tray is suddenly more well-balanced, or that his hands have steadied.

But then again, you suppose it doesn’t really matter whether he does or not.

Somehow, someway, you make it to JungTech without running into anyone else. The receptionist recognizes you immediately and points you toward the elevator with a smile, and you thank her as you press the up button. It doesn’t take long to arrive, and you take a deep breath as you step inside, staring at your reflection in the mirrored walls.

All right? Bast queries, stirring awake in your mind.

You release the breath that you’d been holding in a long whoosh. Yeah. I’m all right.

The doors open on the top floor, and straight away, you are assailed by a cacophony of sounds. Scattered conversations and laughter intermingle with the clinking of champagne flutes. There are at least fifty people scattered around the open space that lies between the elevator and the glass-fronted CEO’s office at the very back—the office that bears Hoseok’s name on the door. There’s no sign of the man himself, but you have no doubt that he’s nearby. This entire party is a celebration for him, after all.

The elevator doors begin to close, and you quickly reach out to stop them, stepping out before it can protest at your dawdling. A young man in a pristine white shirt materializes on your right with a tray full of champagne flutes, and you pluck one off with a murmur of thanks. Sipping slowly, you wander around the perimeters of the party, listening to the lively chatter. Across the room, you spot Lisa, returning her friendly wave with one of your own.

“Hello, {Name}.”

The deep, familiar voice has you whirling around in an instant, head bowing in automatic deference. “Mr. Jung,” you murmur, not quite daring to look him in the eye. “It’s been a while.”

Hoseok’s father inclines his head in acknowledgment, salt-and-pepper hair gleaming beneath the fluorescent lights. No doubt he was a handsome man in his younger days, but the salt in his hair has steadily overtaken the pepper in the last few years, the stern lines around his mouth deepening.

“I didn’t know you would be joining us today,” he says cordially. “But then again, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised after all these years. Have you been here long?”

“Not long. Five minutes, maybe.” Beneath his piercing gaze, you feel like a small child again. Quickly, you scramble for something else to say, gesturing around the sleek glass interior of the office. “This is a lovely party. You must be so proud.”

Another nod. “I wasn’t sure that Hoseok was going to step up,” he admits. “I had my reservations about whether or not he would accept his duties as a Jung, but he has, and I’m pleased that he did. It’s no easy feat, running this company and leading the city’s pack. But I’ve served my time, just as my father did before me.” His gaze flits down to meet yours suddenly, and you find that you can’t read the emotion swimming in them. “I believe I spotted you at his funeral the other day, did I not?”

You nod, resisting the urge to take a sip from your nearly empty champagne glass as your cheeks warm under the scrutiny. “I was, yes. I’m very grateful to have had the opportunity to pay my respects. He was a great man.”

“That, he was,” Mr. Jung agrees. “Hoseok takes after him in many ways. My father—as great as he was—always had a soft spot for the boy. Coddled him a bit too much.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Jung, I think that’s a grandfather’s job,” you reply with a smile.

That earns you a smile in return, the lines around his mouth easing. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Hoseok’s father excuses himself to talk to the other guests, and you set off in search of Hoseok himself. You can feel his aura somewhere nearby, strong and steady, but the room is large enough that you cannot pinpoint his exact location. Not for the first time, you curse the fact that you don’t have a werewolf’s sharp sense of smell. No doubt it could easily be as cumbersome as it is helpful, but it would certainly help you right now.

Turning a corner, you are about to continue lamenting your average olfactory system when you suddenly catch a glimpse of familiar auburn hair, afloat in a sea of black suits. Dodging around a sharply dressed businesswoman and ducking beneath a waiter’s serving tray clears your path to Hoseok, and you’re milliseconds away from stepping forward to greet him when you feel it.

There’s an energy emanating from Hoseok, the likes of which you’ve never felt from him before. It’s heavy and commanding and so potent that the air is laden with it, and a cursory glance at the people surrounding him reveals that they feel it too—their gazes lowered, voices hushed and respectful. In his fitted black suit and emerald green shirt, he looks every bit the alpha he is, and you are quickly realizing that you’re not immune to the power radiating off of him. The Hoseok standing before you isn’t the same Hoseok whose tail you set on fire all those years ago. Far from it. The revelation is somehow simultaneously terrifying and thrilling, and your heart leaps into your throat when you notice that he’s waving you over.

As if compelled, you comply, striding forward until you’re standing before him. “Hi,” your murmur, suddenly feeling shy.

Hoseok’s face splits into a smile. “Hi yourself,” he says, and you would have laughed if your insides didn’t feel like they were about to burst.

“I, um. I brought you your succulent,” you tell him, reaching into your bag. There’s a tiny potted jade plant inside, packaged neatly into a box that you open up and present to him. “It’s jade. Easy to keep alive, and easy to propagate too, if you’re inclined.”

Hoseok accepts your gift, his smile growing as he admires the plump green leaves. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

You shrug and wave off his gratitude, fiddling to clasp your bag shut. “So,” you start, glancing around and gnawing on your bottom lip, completely missing the way Hoseok’s eyes darken as he follows the movement. “It looks like everything went well at the Ministry. Your dad is pleased.”

Hoseok hums, low in his throat. “You talked to him?”

“Yeah, just now.”

“I see.”

He looks like he wants to say something more, but he’s interrupted by a blur of motion and a shrill cry of his name. A moment later, Nayeon is at his side, latching onto his arm and batting her lashes, adorned in a form-fitting red dress and golden jewelry.

“Hoseok! There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you!” Then her gaze alights on you, eyes going wide as if she’s only just noticed your presence. “{Name}, oh my goodness. I almost didn’t see you there, hi!”

“Hello, Nayeon,” you grit out, unable to hide your scowl. You wonder if she spotted it before you hid it behind a large sip of champagne.

Luckily, she doesn’t seem to notice. Her attention refocuses onto a spot behind you, and you watch as her expression lights up, delight etching across her features. “Mr. Jung!” she exclaims. “There’s my favorite future father-in-law. Come and join us—it’s not a party without you.”

Hoseok’s father chuckles lightly, coming forward to stand beside you. “Long time no see,” he jokes, nodding in your direction. “And Nayeon—hello. How are you enjoying the party?”

“Oh, I’m having the loveliest time,” she chirps, simpering up at Hoseok. “How could I not be, when my fiancé is here with me?” Then she smiles—her lips painted the same shade of red as her dress. “But I’m sure I’m nowhere near as happy as you are. You must be beyond excited to spend some quality time with your wife after being busy for so long.”

“I am,” Mr. Jung admits. The severity in his features softens as he seeks out his wife, standing across the room surrounded by friends and extended family. “I’m a very lucky man to have a woman like her.”

Nayeon giggles. “And I’m a lucky woman to have a man like your son. Isn’t that right, darling?”

She tilts her head to look up at Hoseok, who blinks twice in rapid succession, his throat bobbing. “Right,” he says, his voice raspy. “The luckiest.”

And as you turn to engage Mr. Jung in conversation once more, you miss the way his gaze lingers on you.

///

Tuesdays at Hellebore are for brewing. You save bottling for Thursdays—giving your potions and other concoctions ample time to simmer and set—but today, you are hunched over the stove with all four burners turned to different temperature settings, watching over your pots so that they don’t boil over.

A cursory glance out the window tells you that it’s well into the afternoon, the pastel blue sky littered with trailing clouds lit hazy and golden in the sun. You’ve been in the kitchen since early morning, and, desperate for a breath of fresh air, you crack the window open and inhale deeply. Then you turn back to the stove, giving one pot a stir and adding a pinch of burdock root to another.

Wandering downstairs, you head to the greenhouse. The sunlight is brighter here, the air more humid. Inhaling deeply, you breathe in the scent of the hundreds of plants growing inside, before heading for the laburnum tree in the far corner. Carefully, you brush aside the cascading golden flowers, about to gather the dried ones that have fallen to the dirt when there’s a knock on the front door.

“I’m sorry, we’re close—” you say, stopping when you recognize the head of coppery red hair in the window. “Lisa?” Confused, you open the door and let her inside. “What brings you here today?”

“You need to go to Hoseok, now,” she says, foregoing any preambles. “He’s… well, you’ll see. Nayeon’s there right now, but she’s not helping the situation, and...” She sighs. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who can help him now.”

All at once, your stomach drops to your toes. “What’s wrong with Hoseok?” you demand. “Is he hurt?”

Lisa shakes her head, red hair flying. “No, he’s fine. I don’t know how much longer that’ll last, though.”

The cryptic response sends your heart into overdrive, pounding against your ribcage like a doomsday drum. Striding over to the bay window, you wake Bast from his nap in a slanted ray of sunlight, scratching behind his black ears and watching as his golden eyes flicker open, pupils going wide when he senses your turmoil.

What is it?

Hoseok, you reply shortly. Beneath your touch, Bast’s ears perk up.

What do you need?

You swallow, hard, and suck in a deep breath. I’m going to open a portal.

It’s a dangerous feat, and both you and Bast know it. Opening a portal requires an immense amount of energy, and maintaining one long enough to travel through is a risk to even the most experienced witches. You’ve heard horror stories of spliced limbs and paralysis, and in some cases, even death.

But for Hoseok, you’re willing to risk it all.

“Lisa,” you say, grabbing your purse and striding back to the front door of the shop. “Can you lock up once I’m gone?”

She nods nervously. “Of course.”

You incline your head in silent thanks. At your feet, Bast is slinking continuous figure-eights around your ankles, betraying his worry at the task ahead. Your own heart feels ready to spring out from your ribcage and onto the sun-drenched floor, but you swallow down your nerves and look down at your familiar once more. Ready? you ask.

Ready, Bast confirms. Be careful.

I will.

Closing your eyes, you begin to visualize Hoseok’s front door, focusing on every little detail you can remember. There’s the scuff in the black paint from when he first moved in and accidentally scraped a table leg against it. There’s the bronze knocker that always hangs slightly askew. The image builds slowly in your mind, coming together like the broken pieces of a puzzle.

The air around you is suddenly much warmer than before, an invisible force sapping away at your strength and weakening your legs. Bast’s energy melds with yours, but it’s barely enough to keep you on your feet. Exhaustion seeps into your bones and steals the oxygen from your lungs. You gasp, chest heaving.

I don’t think it’s going to work. Bast’s voice is a faint whisper in the back of your mind.

It will, you hiss. It has to.

The front door of your shop is beginning to glow white, becoming hazy and amorphous as the edges begin to blur. You spot a splash of black paint coming through the fog, followed by a bronze knocker. A matching handle appears a moment later, growing out of tendrils of mist and solidifying before your eyes.

Sucking in a deep breath, you reach forward to grab it. Slowly, you turn until you can turn no longer.

And then you step through.

The first thing you hear is a low, cavernous rumble—deep enough that you feel it reverberating through your very bones. Then your surroundings begin to come into focus. You’re in Hoseok’s entryway, all your limbs thankfully intact. The relief you feel at your success is quickly eclipsed by worry though, when you see Hoseok himself on the far side of the living room. The look in his brown eyes is nothing short of wild, his white shirt unbuttoned to nearly his navel and his auburn hair sweaty and disheveled.

“H-Hobi?” Your voice is no more than a breath, dissipating in the open air.

“Hoseok.” The new voice has you whirling. Nayeon is pressed against the wall opposite him, her expression harried. “Hoseok, please—“

“Get out,” Hoseok growls, his voice dangerously low. He’s bristling with the same energy as before, the same energy you felt back at JungTech—but this time it’s enough to fill the room and spill out the opened door and into the hallway. You can feel it pulsing against your skin, hot and electric, and know that Nayeon is even more affected from the way her shoulders slouch, her eyes dropping to the floor when he snarls. “Get out, now.”

She does. Nayeon turns on her heel and dashes out, slamming the door behind her and leaving you alone with Hoseok. His eyes are alight with something more wolf than man, his chest heaving with uneven breaths, and it’s all you can do not to shrink back when he turns his full attention onto you. Even from across the room, you can smell the liquor spilled across the coffee table in a dark ooze of fluid, cloying and bitter.

“What are you doing here?” Hoseok asks, his voice cracking on the last syllable. “You shouldn’t be here right now, {Name}.”

“Lisa told me to come,” you whisper. “You’ve been pushing yourself too much, Hoseok.”

Hoseok shakes his head and rakes a frazzled hand through his hair. “You need to leave,” he grunts. Shakily, he reaches out to right the overturned liquor bottle, the pad of his thumb skimming across the shattered edge.

“Let me do that,” you tell him, making to step forward, but Hoseok stops you with a raised hand and a low growl that stops you in your tracks.

“Don’t,” he hisses. “Don’t you dare come any closer to me.”

You shake your head. “Hobi, it’s obvious you’ve been drinking. Let me help you.”

“No!” he snarls, flinching back when you take a step forward. “You need to leave. It’s… it’s dangerous for you here.”

“Dangerous?” Your voice is reduced to a whisper at the severity of his reaction, the energy in the air intensifying until it’s almost unbearable. “Why?”

“Because I’m in heat!” Hoseok spits. He sucks in a deep breath, the air whistling between his teeth, before he lets out an agonized moan and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m in heat,” he repeats, reticence dripping from every syllable. “I can’t even fucking think straight, and I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you if you stay. So please, {Name}. Please go.”

“But Nayeon…” you begin, wavering when his eyes flash darkly at the mention of her name. “Or Lisa… I can call her, maybe—”

“No!”

You jump, startled at the volume of his shout.

“No,” Hoseok repeats, softer this time. “Don’t. I don’t want them. I’m—I’m fine.”

The sticky humidity and the pulsating energy flowing through the room tell you otherwise. “You’re clearly not,” you tell him gently, taking another step toward him. “Let me call Lisa. Or maybe one of the other girls in the pack, I’m sure someone can help y—”

“I don’t want Lisa.” Defeat suffuses his tone, his eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t want any of them. I want—fuck.” Hoseok groans and lets his head fall back against the wall, the dull thunk echoing in the stillness. “It doesn’t fucking matter what I want. You need to leave, {Name}. You’re only going to be in danger if you stay.”

For the second time that afternoon, only one word springs to mind. “Why?”

Hoseok groans again. “Because I’m weak,” he mutters hoarsely. “Because I’m weak, and I’m not thinking straight, and if you come any closer to me, I won’t be able to stop myself from pinning you against that wall right there and having my way with you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. The rippling energy in the air is almost oppressive in its strength, and only grows when Hoseok’s gaze finally lands on you, his pupils blown out and blacker than the night.

“Go,” he entreaties, dragging a frazzled hand through his hair. “Please, {Name}.”

You suck in a deep breath, your lungs swelling and expanding with the newfound oxygen. Then, ever so slowly, you let your gaze flicker up to meet his. “What if I don’t want to?”

Hoseok freezes. Time comes to a standstill, and even the overwhelming energy emanating from him seems to falter. The room is near silent, broken only by your companion’s ragged breathing, his chest heaving beneath the thin white fabric of his shirt. Even from across the room, you can see the sheen of sweat coating his honeyed skin, shining in the light of the setting sun.

“You don’t mean that,” he says at last. “You can’t mean that.”

“I can,” you whisper. “And I do.”

For three agonizingly long seconds, Hoseok remains rooted firmly in place, his throat bobbing harshly. Then, before you can even blink, he’s striding forward—a blur of motion almost too quick for your eyes to follow. He comes to a stop a hair’s breadth from you, one hand reaching up to cup your face delicately, as if you’re made of glass.

“You,” he rasps, “have no idea what you’ve just done.” His thumb traces the swell of your cheek just below your eye, the motion surprisingly tender. Your heart stutters in your chest.

And then he leans down and crushes his mouth to yours.

The rest of the world falls away, dissolving into nothing. Your eyes flutter shut as Hoseok’s hands slide down your sides to curl around your hips, your body melting against his taut frame. He is all you can feel and all you can taste, and you keen helplessly when he grinds against you, his cock hot and hard against your stomach.

The sound seems to awaken something in Hoseok, a cavernous groan erupting from his throat. Pulling away from your mouth, he descends upon the delicate skin of your neck, teeth and tongue blossoming bruises in their wake. Shaky hands find the collar of your shirt, questioning eyes seeking out yours for permission that you happily give. He tugs the garment off almost delicately, his ravenous gaze roving across each bit of newly revealed flesh, and once it’s freed from your head he tosses it aside and sets about doing the same to the rest of your clothing.

Maybe it should feel odd, watching through lidded eyes as Hoseok drops to his knees to pull your jeans down and off your ankles. Maybe you should feel embarrassed, seeing your best friend bury his nose between your legs, delirious bliss etching across his features as he inhales, his strong fingers curling around your thighs to spread you wider. But instead, it feels completely and utterly natural—as if this was always meant to be.

“You smell divine,” Hoseok breathes, slotting himself between your spread thighs and running a fingertip along your lace-covered slit, collecting the considerable slick there and bringing it to his nose. “Fuck, {Name}. Just one whiff, and I can tell that you’re primed and ready for me.”

“Take me, then,” you breathe back shakily, rolling your hips when he slips past the lacy barrier of your panties to find your clit, circling around the sensitive nub until you’re gasping his name.

Hoseok’s gaze darkens to obsidian, his pupils swallowing up the amber-flecked brown of his irises. In one smooth motion, he’s on his feet again, straightening up to his full height as his hands find purchase on your hips. He twirls you around until you’re facing the wall, your palms pressed flat against the woven tapestry hanging there.

“Gorgeous.” A single word, laced with unmistakable awe. Then he’s fumbling with his belt buckle, the metallic clink and tug of a zipper reaching your ears, before he presses against you, clothed chest molding against your bare back. Even through the thin layer of fabric, you can feel the sweltering heat emanating from him, his sweat soaking through the cotton and sticking to your skin. His mouth finds its way to the junction of your neck and shoulder again—teasing at the flesh until you’re quivering—before he begins laying a trail of hot kisses down your spine.

“Wanna fuck you,” Hoseok rasps, tearing your panties away once his lips reach the waistband, the flimsy lace ripped to shreds in his desperate grip. “Want you on your front, want you on your back, want you on my tongue—” His voice drops, rumbling through his chest and sending shivers through your entire body. “Want you. Wanted you for so long.”

And as if to reinforce his words, the velvety head of his cock nestles against the cleft of your backside, hot and slick.

Wordlessly, you arch your back, presenting him with the tempting swell of your rear. A glance over your shoulder reveals the strained clench of his jaw and the bob of his throat, his biceps tensed and his gaze unwavering. His control is undoubtedly dangling by a single thread at this point—a delicate, gossamer thread that’s on the verge of snapping. The delirium of his heat is overtaking his senses, his grip tightening on your hips, and ever so slowly, he begins to press forward until the tip of his thick cock is just beginning to part your walls. Already, the fit borders on excruciating, and your body tenses at the intrusion, stretched to the limit around his thick girth.

Hoseok exhales shakily, his primal instincts warring with his desire to ensure your comfort. Soft lips drop kiss after kiss onto your bare shoulders, your back, your neck—wherever he can reach as he whispers tender praises into your skin. “Breathe, princess,” he encourages lowly. “You can take it—I know you can. You were made for me.”

Obediently, you inhale, focusing on the way your lungs expand and contract as you draw air into them. The pain ebbs away with each breath you take, until all that is left is a low throb of pleasure. Your hips rock back against him, and Hoseok takes it as a sign to push forward once more, parting your walls until he’s fully seated inside you, your body stretched to the limit as you mold around him.

There’s no pain now—only an aching desire for more, more, more. He’s deep enough to reach parts of you that you’ve never been able to explore before—either alone or with other partners—and you moan brokenly when he rolls his hips experimentally. “More, Hoseok,” you whimper. “Please.”

He obliges. One thrust leads into another, the punishing pace he sets fueled by his heady desperation for relief. The full, heavy weight of his cock dragging along your walls ignites every nerve ending in your body, sizzling electricity blazing through your veins. It’s all you can do to plant your palms flat against the tapestried wall, fingers twitching at the woven fabric as Hoseok grabs your hips with enough force to bruise and pulls you back against him in time with his thrusts.

“Look at you,” he says hoarsely. “Love the way you feel, clenching around me like that. My perfect, pretty girl, taking my cock so well. I always knew you were made for me.” He grunts, forehead falling against your back, damp hair matting against your skin as he continues rutting against you. “Always—fuck—knew you were my mate.”

The particularly harsh thrust that follows his raspy declaration sends all coherent thought flying out of your head, taking your surprise along with it. All you can manage is a shuddery whine that vaguely resembles his name, the sound intermingling with the obscene smack of flesh against flesh and the continuous stream of praises Hoseok whispers into your skin.

There’s something building inside you—a dull, throbbing pressure at the point where your body joins with his. He’s still rolling up into you, but each subsequent thrust grows more and more shallow. The realization dawns on your dazed mind all at once, as you feel the growing swell at the base of his cock. Hoseok is rendered near immobile as he finally reaches his high, the entirety of his length sheathed firmly inside your pussy as he spills ropes of white against your fluttering walls. The swelling continues, filling you until you feel fit to burst.

“H-Hoseok,” you gasp. “I can’t. I can’t—you’re going to rip me in half.”

Soothing hands smooth along your sides, warm lips littering kisses onto your bare shoulders. “You can,” he murmurs tenderly. “You were made for me, and I for you. You can take it, princess. I know you can.”

The gentle repetition of his fingertips trailing nonsensical patterns into your skin eases your labored panting somewhat. Beneath his touch, you slowly relax, the pressure in your abdomen abating as his knot begins to subside.

“You did so well.” His voice is no more than a mumble, almost lost in the sweat and slick coating your skin.

You sag against the wall, taking a few moments to catch your breath before slowly easing off of him, the sudden loss leaving your core empty and aching. Gingerly, you turn around to face him, acutely aware of the way your combined juices immediately begin dribbling down your thighs.

“You said I was your mate,” you whisper, almost afraid that the sentiment will disappear if voiced aloud. “Did… did you mean that?”

“Every word,” Hoseok replies, equally soft. “Is that okay?”

A smile blooms across your face. Rising up to your tiptoes, you kiss him again—a soft, reassuring peck that he immediately leans into, seeking out your touch like a flower in the sun. “More than okay,” you breathe, feeling the way his lips stretch upward against yours. “I’m glad, Hobi.”

Hoseok sighs into your mouth, a slow smile settling across his features. “Now it’s your turn,” he says, and in an instant, he’s swept you off your feet, one arm beneath your bent knees and the other around your back. “And I’m planning to take my time with you, princess. You’re not leaving here until I say so.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, crossing your hands at his nape. “Fine by me,” you tell him, earning yourself a wide grin. His lips seek out yours again as he carries you down the darkened hallway and into the shadowy depths of his bedroom, pausing only to nudge the lightswitch on with his elbow. Golden light suffuses the room as he steps forward to lay you on his bed, your back sinking into the plush mattress and dipping further when he joins you. He hovers over you with an arm on either side of your head, and you reach up to trace the vein that lines his biceps with a gentle fingertip, giggling when he gives your bottom lip a punishing nip.

The kiss deepens from there. Hoseok parts your lips and seeks out your tongue with his own, subduing it into compliance. By the time you pull apart, all the oxygen has left your lungs, leaving you flushed and gasping. Hoseok chortles breathlessly and trails down to press a kiss to your navel, before traveling downward until he’s reached your clit. Gently, he wraps his lips around the sensitive nub, rumbling with laughter when you buck against him.

“So needy,” he murmurs. To your displeasure, he straightens back up to kneel between your spread thighs, but your complaint quickly dissolves into thin air when he edges forward until his knee is pressed against your aching clit. Desperate for more friction, you grind against him, your wetness soaking through his jeans in a matter of seconds.

It doesn’t take long for pressure to build up in your belly again, winding tight as a coiled spring. Hoseok is staring down at you, transfixed, and his undivided attention only serves to bring you closer to the edge, teetering on the very brink.

“Look at you.” His voice could almost be described as a purr, if he weren’t so utterly canine in mannerisms and appearance. “Such a greedy little thing, all desperate to get off. You’re making a mess of my new jeans, princess.”

You’re too far gone to care about the teasing lilt that colors his tone. The edge is rapidly approaching, and one last roll of your hips is enough to send you over, your walls convulsing around nothing as you ride out your high.

Hoseok doesn’t wait. In an instant, he’s back between your legs, having moved so quickly you didn’t even see when he’d started or stopped. His tongue darts out to lave at your folds, a growl rumbling through his chest when your hips jump on instinct. Immediately, he tightens his grip, strong arms winding around your thighs and anchoring at your waist to render you helpless in his grasp, only able to take what he sees fit to give.

“How is it that you taste even better than you smell?” Hoseok muses as he leans down to suck your clit into his mouth, lips curling up into a pleased smirk when you gasp out his name. “Cute,” he says, releasing the nub in favor of descending to your drenched entrance instead, flicking his tongue shallowly inside before withdrawing with a chuckle.

“Hoseok—” you begin, only to dissolve into a moan when he sheaths two fingers inside you without any warning, curling them up and in until you’re shaking in his grasp.

“Come for me,” he commands softly. “Go on, let me hear you.”

And you do, chanting his name like a mantra as a wave of pleasure overtakes you. Hoseok’s thumb circles your clit in just the right way to prolong your orgasm, and it isn’t until you’re cringing from overstimulation that he finally relents, descending down to mold his mouth to yours in a searing kiss. His lips part yours, tongue dipping out to explore as he sheds his shirt and shucks off his ruined jeans. His skin, when he presses against you, burns hot as a furnace wherever it touches. Against your stomach, his cock stirs back to life.

He’s gentler this time. Every movement is slow and deliberate and tender as he breaches you, murmuring your name reverentially as he fills you again. Your body bows to his willingly, stretching to accommodate him, and the spike of pleasure that lances through you when he bottoms out is almost enough to send your oversensitive body over the edge again, your walls fluttering around him.

There’s an unmistakable shift in the air when Hoseok starts up a slow rhythm, leaning down to kiss you again. His lips move against yours, soft and tender, before moving past your jugular and down to the crook of your neck, elongated canines scraping against the delicate skin in a silent question. You wind your arms around his neck and nod, giving him his answer. There’s no need for words.

And then his teeth are sinking into the spot he’s so lovingly scoped out, breaking the skin. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, and the pleasure intermingles with the pain of the bite until you are delirious, rendered boneless in his grasp. Hoseok’s hips stutter, his pace growing erratic as he soothes the wound over with his tongue.

You’re prepared for the swelling this time, but the fullness still manages to knock all the air out of your lungs, bordering on painful as his knot grows. Hoseok quells your whimpers with tender kisses, the instinct to comfort his mate paramount even as he paints your walls with ropes of creamy white. He traces a path from your lips down to where he’s marked and claimed you as his, imbuing your skin with a litany of praises that warm you from the inside out.

“My mate,” he murmurs, reverent. “Finally.”

You lean into his touch with a tired smile. “Finally? How long have you wanted this?”

His lips curl into a smile against your clavicle. “Ages. If I’m honest, I think I fell in love with you the day you set my tail on fire when we were kids. It’s always been you, {Name}. Only you.”

You can’t help it—you need to hear it from his mouth again. “You love me?”

Hoseok chuckles. “Of course I do. My tricky little minx—my perfect, pretty mate. I love you more than anything.” One hand reaches up to caress your cheek, running along the tender skin beneath your eye before cupping the back of your head so he can mold his mouth to yours. “Love you more than I can even explain,” he breathes, punctuating each word with a kiss. His hands blaze trails down the slopes of your body until he finally anchors below the crook of your legs. “So why don’t you let me show you instead?”

And he does. Over and over that night, and in the two days of his heat that follow, he shows you exactly how he feels. Propriety is forgotten, left by the wayside with his scorned fiancé and marriage. He is yours, and you are his.

Consequences be damned.

⇢ aftermath.

also set in this universe:

[myg]

[80s4life]

The Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

Word Count: 4,438

Status: Not Requested

Fandom: Back To The Future 1985

Relationship: Biff Tannen x Female Reader

Summary: As time is altered for a total of 2 weeks (I extended it slightly), you and Marty struggle to get his parents under control, having problem after the next. But, when an unexpected solution occurs, you find yourself willingly okay with it, soon finding the exact reason as to why.

Warnings: language, fluff, Biff being a dick, slight angst, cute Biff

Masterlist Back To The Future Masterlist

Prompts: (from this list @youneedsomeprompts​)

Y/C/S= Your Choice of Sport/ Your Chosen Sport (you don’t have to honestly play one, just choose one you like or one that comes to mind)

{gif and prompts are not mine, gif credits go to @backtothefuturemovies and credits were given above for prompts!}

No one ever said time travel was fun. No one ever said the job was easy. And no one sure as hell told you the consequences that come with it. Well, at least not before you, and your best friend, Marty McFly, had gone dead-on through a barn, sacred a neighboring family of ‘alien invasion,’ run into younger McFly parents, and altered time just enough to fuck you over for a few days.

I mean, who would’ve guessed right? Your mom just so happens to be romantically interested in you, their child. Well, that was at least in Marty’s case. For you, you had just managed to run into the biggest dickhead of the century, Biff Tannen. Or so you thought?

Making your way out of bed, you automatically go to where Marty was sleeping in the garage, waking him along with Doc up. The go-to plan for the day was to go undercover as usual students in the 50′s, secretly following Marty’s parents around, finding out where they lie in this part of time, and try to find ways into manipulating them together once more in time for Marty and you to get back home. Easy enough, right?

Groaning, Marty goes to slap your hands away weakly, mumbling something along the lines of ‘Just a few more minutes.’ You giggle slapping his hands back in an attempt to wake him up cheerily. Mornings weren’t really your forte either, so any upbeat wake-up is better than a pissy, tired, horrible morning. 

Doc, on the other hand, was happy to return the affection, getting out of bed to give a quick hug and kiss to the forehead. Then he makes his way over to the bed, going to tickle Marty’s feet as you go to tickle his sides. Finally, in a fit of laughter, Marty gets up and goes straight for the bathroom. You were going to argue him, having to use the bathroom first, but decide to just leave it be, heading for the makeshift kitchen instead.

You smile fondly as Doc and Marty play around a while later, wrestling about, cracking jokes. It was only just a few hours ago that you and Marty had witnessed the untimely death of the currently very lively man in the house. Witnessing the blood loss, the machine gun in action, and the bullets that whizzed pass with only one malicious intent: to kill. But he’s here now; he’s safe and sound, having many years until that date will arrive.

With the freshly cooked smell of eggs, toast, and pancakes, the boys straighten up, Doc clearing his throat in an attempt to organize himself, and Marty leaving his shirt ruffled as he follows the smell of deliciousness. You giggle as both men of different ages act exactly the same, piling their plates high and digging in, giving thanks through mouthfuls.

///LATER///

After breakfast had finished, you and Marty made your way to the school, not wanting to be late, and, quite frankly, not wanting to miss a second in the disaster we’re in, wanting to fix it as soon as possible. Upon entering, the building erupts in laughter, tears, screaming, perfume, cologne, aftershave, and lots and lots of both testosterone and estrogen. Fucking high school, you smile.

Going to “your locker” right besides “Marty’s,” you both place the books and supplies that are unneeded inside it and take only the things you need for the first two classes, somehow having those together. As Marty catches glimpse of his father, George McFly, he winks at you, moving to catch up to him. Rolling your eyes playfully, you turn back towards your locker, just barely missing a group of young men some ways down the hallway, locking eyes with a particularly taller man, towering almost everyone in the halls.

You pay no mind, however, being blindsided by three girls your age. Instantly, you recognize the one right in front as Lorraine, Marty’s mother. Smiling nervously, your cheeks tint only a little, being unprepared to see her so quickly, not yet having a plan made up on how you could help tackle the situation with Marty.

“Hiya! I’ve never seen you before, are you new here? I’m Lorraine Baines, and you are?” she asks cheerfully, her books clasped tightly to her chest.

Taking an obnoxiously long time staring dumbfounded, you finally realize you haven’t spoken, quickly recovering with newfound purpose and confidence, “Ah, yes! I am new here! Sorry, I’m just trying to get used to this place a tiny bit. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Well that’s quite alright, you can come with us!” she says once more in a cheery tone, taking you by the arm and lacing her arm around yours, locked elbows. You smiled, knowing exactly where Marty’s cheerful and people-person nature had come from. Walking down the halls, she had asked for my schedule, checking classes to see what we had together, “English, History, and Agriculture- Hey! You should try out for cheer leading!” 

Shaking your head lightly, “Nah, I’m more of a Y/C/S myself to be frank.”

“But...We don’t have that sport here? There are no girls sports at all actually...” Lorraine says confused. You go to cover it up, choosing to say it was a sport you play for fun at home, in the backyard. However, a beefy arm separates you momentarily from her, as the owner of the harm moves to pin her to the lockers.

You were going to walk away, figuring it was some sort of make-out session in the works, but upon looking at her before going, you notice that the man was absurdly unwanted. 

“Get your meathooks off me Biff!” she screams at the man, his huge form towering her much smaller one. Not taking the message, the pair continue to squabble, neither of them being successful in winning. The warning bell sounds over the halls and classrooms, alarming kids to get their asses moving, but it seems whoever this dick is, he feels he is greater than the school, and god forbid, knowledge.

“Hey, you do realize your not making a damn bit a difference, right? She’s not interested! And, quite frankly, it seems as if no one does! Now, if you don’t mind, could you please be kind enough to unhand her as some of us treasure a piece of mind and how to take a hint?” you finish, quite ticked off as the last bell warns, cursing under your breath as you already know your in for detention on the first day.

It finally seems that he’d caught a grip, thankfully, letting go of Lorraine’s arm and she quickly scurries out of his proximity, taking your hand to lead you to the class you both needed to be in. As you go to walk in, you are stopped by the teacher, scolding both you and Lorraine. Looking at her regrettably, she smiles defeated. So you decide to do what’s right, take the fall.

“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t know where to go as I was trying to find where all of my classes were before I ended up lost every time classes switch. I caught up to Lorraine here at some point, and as she was hurrying to this class, she was kind enough to show me where I needed to be,” you finish, sighing guiltily.

“Well, as you’ve taken acknowledgment to your mistake, then you’d be just as happy with detention. After school, on Friday, as the first week is extremely busy. As for you, Miss Baines, thank you for your help. You are off the hook for now,” the older gentleman finishes, nodding to each of you personally before turning around and beginning just one of the classes you’d have today. This is going to be fun!

///LATER///

Finally, after grueling hours of just a few of your classes, lunchtime had came round, giving you a slight break. Catching sight of Lorraine, you smile and wave, going in the direction of Marty, or Calvin Klein, as you’d heard Lorraine go on and on about. You’d known it was him the second she’d said it, the brand not yet known to man yet; or at least in this timeline, it wasn’t.

As time had went on, it was only natural for the peace to be broken, as a newly familiar face was starting to appear more and more, Biff Tannen, as you’d known his name by now. But, instead of heading towards Lorraine, he makes his way over to the table you were residing with George and Marty, sitting himself right beside you. 

At first, you were trying to ignore him, knowing his presence was there, but keeping your eyes trained on either Marty or George, eyes dancing between the two. Biff, being the everlasting child he was, tried to catch you attention, trying stupid ass things after the other: kicking your shins, pulling your ears of hair, flicking your head, and even trying to tug on the 50′s style dress you’d been forced to wear to play your part. 

Only when he goes to tug your hair once more is when you finally snap, turning a furious glare to the hulking figure beside you, shoving his shoulder in a feeble attempt to create distance. He giggles at this, his body not moving an inch at all. “You can’t be serious right now! You don’t know when to quit it, do you?!” you scream, fed up with his shit.

“Well, if you’d give me the human decency of turning your head when I’m trying to talk to you, then I wouldn’t have to pester you, now would I?” he asks in a teasing tone, no doubt taunting you, but all you do is stare him down, getting lost in a staring contest, daring him to say something again. “Alls I wanted to say was that we have detention together. Just thought I’d let you know since you got me in all that trouble this morning.”  

“Why you-!” And with that, he gets up with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, prancing out of view and back to the table he and his gang usually sit. Watching the whole interaction, George smirks at Marty, the pair giving an unspoken mutual agreement to whatever they had both caught on to, bursting into fits of laughter moments later. 

“You have a longer tolerance than I do, I-I-I’ll tell you that much,” George says, his usual slight stutter back in place, Marty laughing once more. As George joins in again, you couldn’t fight it either, giving into the childish antics.

///LATER///

To say your week had gotten any better than the first day was a lie. It hadn’t gotten any better, and your meetings with Biff at lunch had only gotten all the more common and all the more infuriating. He’d made it his duty to agitate you in any ways possible, even resulting in whispering something nagging in your ear when you weren’t paying attention, usually doing something in your locker.

Either way, he was on the countdown to Friday, it being constantly on his mind, mentally counting down the days, hours, minutes, and even seconds until the two of you were locked in a room alone.

Unfortunately, that day had seemed to come way faster than you’d like, Friday rolling around quite quickly. School had finished, and you were making your way to the front office, awaiting a tiring 2 hours with only yourself and Biff as company for the time being. You hadn’t known where the room was, and instead of spending time looking for it, you gave up and looked for the office instead, the nice front desk lady leading you where you needed to go.

Upon entering the room, there was Biff in his prime, casually spread across his chair, legs crossed atop his desk nearest the windows. Sighing, you ignore him, deciding to sit on the opposite side of him, the front desk lady giving you a sympathetic smile before she closes the door behind her. You look at the wall, head turned away from him like the plague.

You knew it’d only last so long until he’d speak, the time coming way faster than you pleased. Given it was Friday, you couldn’t even do homework or even study in order to block him out as he started to blabber, running his mouth over stupid shit once more. Inhaling through your nose, and exhaling through your mouth slowly, you straighten in your seat, hands clutching the desk so tight, your fists turned white. 

“Biff, Sweetheart, Baby, Doll Face, Hun. Please. PLEASE. Shut up for five god damn seconds. I know you truly have nothing to say, so why do you insist on speaking so much?” you finally say, hands prying off the desk to turn in his direction exasperated. 

“Well, if you’d just talk to me, Shortcake, I wouldn’t have much to say at random,” he answers, copying your actions and posture. With this change in childish demeanor, you give in, laughing at him in an unexpected rush, running your hands through your hair tiredly. 

Although you hadn’t seen it, he’d smiled in satisfaction upon seeing you laugh, the glitter in your eyes much more captivating than it ever was when he looked at Lorraine. He hadn’t barely pestered her since you’d barreled into his life. It was weird, but he welcomed it with open arms. And for the first time, he learned what it was like to have an actual, clammy-handed, closed throat, warm, cheek-tinted, teenage crush. A crush that left his heartbeat loud and fast, breathing ragged and uneven, and his behavior out of character and out of his control. Lorraine was way under whatever level he’d placed you on, holding you up on a pedestal like you were the sun or sky.

Of course, you hadn’t taken notice to his antics, just thinking he was annoying. Just Biff being his notorious self. But, as you finally calm your breathing down, the giggles fading, you decide to give him a chance, knowing that sitting in silence is just going bore you. Smiling warmly, you say, “So what do you want to talk about then?” 

///LATER///

Grabbing your bag, you get out of your seat, giggling at a story Biff had told you. He follows your lead as well, getting his own as he lets out a bark of laughter at a certain part. You guys looked like idiots as you shoved each other down the halls, making your way out of the school as your detention had came to a close. Sighing as the warm sun radiated on your skin with the light, spring breeze, you stretch out any kinks the classroom chairs and desks had left. Biff watched you intently, your small body easily swallowed by his shadow beside you.

The sun was setting and it was getting late, although you weren’t concerned. The boys knew you wouldn’t be home ‘til late due to the detention you had initially despised. Now, you and Biff were side by side, walking peacefully to his car in the school’s parking lot. For once, he was quiet, great company to have. It was something else for sure, but you enjoyed it. As you came up towards Doc’s place, you’d realized that Biff had drove you home like a gentleman, too lost in the conversation to notice earlier on. 

Sheepishly, you itch the back of your neck, realizing your mistake and feeling guilty for making him walk all this way to now have to walk all the way home. “Ah- Sorry...I didn’t realize I’d dragged you all the way out here. Now you have to drive all the way back.”

“It’s no problem, really. I liked it. It’s nice to talk to someone other than the guys every now and then. And to have A female speak to me instead of screaming,” he answers, now being the one who is a bit shy.

“You do know that you bring that on yourself right?” you say teasingly, now leaning your head on your hands, propped up on the passenger side door. “Not every girl would want to kick you in the groin if you showed a little more respect, “ you finish off with a smile.

“Yeah...Yeah I know. I’ll try harder, I swear.”

“That’s all I ask,” you say with a wink, drumming your hands on the door as you take a step back, waving as you start walking down Doc’s driveway.

“Hey!” Biff calls from the car, stopping you in your tracks to turn around, facing him with a smile. “Uhm- Well- The Enchantment Under the Sea Dance is coming up next week...Would you mind being my date?” he asks, stuttering as he feels his cheeks heat up, nervous as hell.

“I’d love to!” you answer, turning back around to walk into the house. Biff does a little fist bump as he puts the car back in gear, excited for what is to come.

///

Marty was a little less than amused with this newfound knowledge once entering the door and going over the events of the day. It was only when Doc had suggested that the date with Biff would keep him away from Lorraine, giving George the freeway to attract her long enough for their True Love’s Kiss. Then, and only then, did Marty give the okay, shaking his head, but liking the fact that it’ll give George some time, being the nerd that you know and love.

///Enchantment Under the Sea Dance///

Checking yourself over in the mirror for the final time, you let out a nervous yet satisfied sigh, feeling like an absolute princess. You never minded dresses too much, although you couldn’t deny the fact that normal pair of shorts, jeans, or even leggings were your first choice. All that mattered was that you liked the dress you were wearing, it fit you; it was your favorite color, length, and strap(less) type to hold everything in.

Walking out, you grab the pair of heels to match, knowing that you couldn’t get away with sneakers in this generation, painfully grimacing at the reminder. Finally standing, you recount when you had gotten the dress just a few days ago, having gone with Lorraine and the her two friends, Babs and Betty. They were very endearing and supportive the whole time, you not having to worry about being “to picky” as they were just the same. You ended up loving the dress given that you’d taken the time without pressure.

As you walked into the main room of the garage, you heard a low whistle of Marty, Doc slapping him on the back of the head for it. Giggling, you curtsy and spin in the dress. Doc, the gentleman he always was, compliments you, “You look amazing, my dear. Let’s hope this boy deserves it, hmm?” 

As an answer, you hug him tightly, knowing that, by the end of the night, he will be nothing but a dead man at home, in a lonely, dark parking lot. Your eyes tear up just at the mere thought of it, clutching him tighter. Marty seems to be on the same wavelength, going to interrupt the moment with great urgency, trying to pass him a piece of paper.

“Marty, if this has anything that involves my future, do not. And I repeat, DO NOT try to hand it to me. Whatever happens, happens young man. That’s how the world works,” he says in a warning tone. You wanted to disagree, but you knew the truth that was laced beneath it, as if it was a punishment. You whimper instead, pulling him in tighter; Marty looking down in defeat, soon switching to anger. In the midst of it, he storms out of the garage, getting in the car to go pick up who you’d hope was Lorraine for the dance.

“Just let him go...” you start, sadness evident, “He’s just not very happy with the outcome of what the future has in store for you. Quite frankly, neither am I.”

“I’m sure whatever the outcome is, that I wanted to go with it, dear. I assure you, I’m fine,” Doc answers in a consoling tone, wiping the tears that had slipped from your eyes. You knew it was just a mask, no one wants death, but you knew he needed to go no matter how much you hated it. So you nod, not having to say much more as a honk sounds from outside.

“That’s Biff...” 

“Have a great time! Make sure the McFlys kiss!” Doc screams, following out of the garage, scolding Biff from behind you.

“Yes sir!” you scream back, saluting him as you take a seat in the passenger.

///

“You look beautiful Y/N,” Biff says after a while, finally working up the courage to speak.

“Thank you Biff. And you look handsome yourself,” you giggle, the car pulling into the lot. 

He shuts the engine, grabbing his keys from the ignition and closing the door, making his way around to you as you let yourself out to straighten yourself out. He takes your hand as he leads you to the entrance of the dance, you sighing in relief as you catch a glimpse of Marty pulling up in a car with Lorraine. Finally, you relax, grasping on Biff a little lighter and with more meaning now as you have the night to yourselves. He smiles down at you as you wrap your arm within his, something Lorraine does with you quite often.

With the party in full blast, you let loose with the music, dancing and joking around with Biff. At some point, however, he says he needs a drink and will be right back. Although, he doesn’t seem to actually come back. You’d thought you’d seen him spiking the punch just as few moments ago.

Just as you were going to in the direction of the hallways to the rest of the school, you notice Match, one of Biff’s friends, storming out of the gym through an exit. Taking your bets, you follow behind him, soon being greeted by a huge commotion of screams, all of them from familiar people. Biff was in a car with Lorraine, her dress pulled and taken off in parts. He was no doubt about to do something stupid, the fact pissing you off, saddening you in some ways as well.

The others that were screaming were also George and Marty, the pair trying to get Biff to stop before he regrets it. He doesn’t listen, unfortunately, until your voice booms over the rest, “Biff!” 

His head snaps instantly in your direction, the situation dawning on him the instant he looks at your face. You hadn’t meant to portray your emotions so clearly, but your face had shown such distraught and hurt. He lied. He had gotten over Lorraine, yet the moment she was alone, he runs right back to her.

With his momentary change of focus, George finally steps in, “You get your filthy hands off of her!” finishing with a blow to the jaw that knocks Biff off balance. 

Marty looks to you sadly, but tries to smile in cheers as George and Lorraine leave together, motioning that he was going to follow them just in case. You nod, looking down now as your play with your fingers. You didn’t know what to do now as the only reason you were really here was for Biff. You weren’t needed for Lorraine and George, you knew Marty had it.

You decide to make your way home then, as there was nothing else you could do. Dances were just drags anyway, nothing worth while. “Your just going to leave? Just like that?” asks a deep voice, his body having gotten back off the pavement and stood by the car he was pinned against.

Without turning, you answer his question with another, “Why not? There’s nothing left here for me is there?”

“And why wouldn’t there be?” Biff asks once more, no doubt ticking you off at his usual teasing tone.

“Well, let’s see. You. You asked me to the dance as your plus one. I came here as your date. We have a good time, we dance, we talk, and then you come up with an ‘Oh I need a drink’ charade, not returning. Then, I come to find my date in the parking lot, about to get his licks in on a woman he was apparently over with! So tell me, what is left here for men here, Biff?” you finish, tears pooling your eyes over the time, although you don’t let the fall, keeping them there.

He looks guilty, you can see it, but you don’t care. Your not in the wrong this time. But, as your blood starts to cool down, you do notice the look in his eyes, the change in his demeanor, and the utter remorse that has overcome him. He has his head down, fists clenched at his sides, body stock still. He doesn’t know what to do, all he knows is that he’d fucked up.

“Or was this your fabulous way of telling me that you love me?” you finally ask, eyes moving to look up at him in a teasing manner.

He hadn’t expected you to speak, head snapping up to meet your gaze in confusion. Being as you’d looked at him with a glint in your eyes, he finally lets everything click together; you’d forgiven him. His face heats up in bashfulness however, as your words resonated within him as well, hand going to itch the back of his neck again.

You giggle, walking up to him now, hands going to his collar. Pulling him down, he gazes at you in amazement, his own hands falling to rest on your waist. Then, you crash your lips to his, pulling him ever closer. It takes him a moment to get the hang of it, soon pulling you closer to himself as well. Lifting you slightly, he sets you on the hood of his car, the height difference a definite stretch for him. But he wouldn’t have it any other way, you were perfect. Just the same as he was perfect for you.

[siriusmydeer]

For the Thank You Next can you do Imagine with James Potter?

thank you, next.

james potter x slytherin!fem!reader

summary: you go through the stages of love till you find your person.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mutual pinning, over use of sarcasm it’s so bad, SWEARING, kissing, mentions of kissing, mentions of an arm falling off, mentions of injury

—0:00

‘Thought I'd end up with Sean

But he wasn't a match

Wrote some songs about Ricky

Now I listen and laugh

Even almost got married

And for Pete, I'm so thankful

Wish I could say "thank you" to Malcolm

'Cause he was an angel’

one day, when you’re young, your mother tells you, ‘there’s lots of fish in the sea, but you have to wait for the right catch’ or maybe that was just your deranged mother. normally, you thought all of that was bullshit. a slytherin princess should never be mistreated, someone whomst you honour and adore with all in your beating heart; turns out slytherin boys didn’t get the fucking memo.

the only person who did understand was the one and only, regulus arcturus black. but you unfortunately lacked sexual attraction to him so therefore you couldn’t date him, so that was a feigning issue. evan rosier was fit, top of his classes and a quite nice mop of blonde on his head, he was a quidditch player and a pureblood slytherin; so etiquette is to be clearly expected. too other schoolmates, especially the fawning girls of almost every house, he was probably the full package, one of the alpha males that roamed the hallways at hogwarts; oh were those girls the biggest knob heads to exist.

turns out he was just the biggest fucking dick to ever walk the planes of the earth, he ran around with idiots like lucius malfoy— another mistake of the century, and little severus snape; thank merlin, and salazar slytherin themselves you never resorted to him.

‘One taught me love

One taught me patience

And one taught me pain

Now, I'm so amazing

Say I've loved and I've lost

But that's not what I see

So, look what I got

Look at what you taught me

And for that, I say’

normally your first couple of boyfriends should teach you something out of the relationship, maybe what you needed to strengthen for the next time you were in an intimate relationship, like trust, communication, maybe even sexual intimacy.

all these absolute dunces taught you was to pick your boyfriends better, and to stay away from every slytherin male that had ever entered hogwarts. evan— oh, he only taught you that everyone and everything was a priority over you, always the ‘talk to you later.’ and the casual, ‘blowjob?’ comments; absolutely fucking arse. lucius, couldn’t forget his moto in your mind even if you jammed it in your strongly-witted brain that money was power and money over any atom to every exist.

regulus understood, strict pureblood parents but he still understood how to treat a partner. i guess it was nice not picking up every habit of walburger and onion— sorry, walburga and orion, noble heirs of the house of black. yeah, did i mention they were second cousins?

‘Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next (next)’

“you could always hang out with my brothers mates, i see them not casually oogling you.” oh regulus, sometimes you did lack the slytherin wit and ambition. he was sprawled on the malachite coloured couch, a pearly white quill fumbled between his slender digits as he started aimlessly into oblivion at the dying out fire in the midst of the frigid common room.

“yeah, let me go hang out with my best friends brothers friends, slytherin haters! such a good idea, reg. maybe they should’ve put you in ravenclaw from that amazing idea!” if you were sarcastic before, there aren’t a non-vulgar amount of words in the universe to describe the tremendous mockery in your tone; as you intensely stared into the crevices of the ceiling while laying on the opposite viridescent sofa.

“merlin, tone down the sarcasm a bit? i was just offering, it’s not like your a pureblood, or a prat.” regulus offered, looking at your form, your elbow now covering your eyes and making recurring heavy sighs every few minutes. “being a half-blood is enough for hatred, regulus, m’dear.” you sighed again, in defeat. hopeless romantic and hated by many, fantastic, am i right?

‘Spend more time with my friends

I ain't worried 'bout nothin'

Plus, I met someone else

We're havin' better discussions

I know they say I move on too fast

But this one gon' last

'Cause her name is Ari

And I'm so good with that (so good with that)’

don’t think, breath and just do what your heart tells you to. fuck that— panic, cry, scream, whatever, be scared. you were gaping at the red mass and overdue of shades, it wasn’t ugly but definitely not the prettiest colour to exist; mixed with mustard yellow. gryffindor students absolutely covered in both. well students, no, james potter, yes.

he happen to be your victim, well friend of sirius; regulus did say after all they oogled you, whatever that meant. you both played quidditch, pretty decent grades, both had good humour, your more so, i mean c’mon you couldn’t find that wit just anywhere, and well you could be best friends. well friends, acquaintances, maybe one, possibly. if only you had the confidence of a leo male, all you needed was to strut over to the damn quidditch field and say something, literally anything.

so that’s exactly what you did, your shoes crunching against the no-longer damp grass, dry after morning dew showers. your bag hanging off of your left arm, your head preoccupied with ways on how to greet someone because slytherin etiquette right now was not the way to go; it would only cause assumptions and stereotypes. i mean who the actual fuck says, ‘how do you do?’ anymore.

‘She taught me love (love)

She taught me patience (patience)

She handles pain (pain)

That amazing (yeah, she's amazing)

I've loved and I've lost (yeah, yeah)

But that's not what I see (yeah, yeah)

'Cause look what I've found (yeah, yeah)

Ain't no need for searching

And for that, I say’

enemies, nope. acquaintances, don’t think so. friends, getting there. close friends, i would say. if someone ever said they saw james fleamont potter hanging around a slytherin they would’ve assumed that someone was knocked upside the head with the biggest beaters bar you could find, but the green and red weren’t that bad of a mix after all.

henceforth, here you were giggling like school girls with james fucking potter right by the black lake. “james, respectfully, stop carrying that stupid snitch everywhere. doesn’t it weigh down your pockets?” you queried the boy who was fumbling with the golden snitch for the past three minutes, flipping his hair so he could knock the brunette tendrils from his eyes while he gaped at you.

you were glowing— the sun at its highest peek, he could’ve been on his knees thanking albus dumbledore in his office for free period; knowing james we would’ve offered to comb his beard and maybe even a shampoo and condition it while he was at it.

your eyes glittered as you chortled at him for dropping that stupid ball for the third time, your hair dancing in the wind like it was a routine, a perfect routine, your teeth glinting at the suns ethereal rays that hit you just right. imagine if james’ foolish cocky mask instead would’ve rejected your offer of friendship that one humid day on the quidditch pitch— he would’ve been the biggest git to ever stride the planet.

‘Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (thank you)

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (said thank you, next)

Thank you, next (next)

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next

Thank you, next

Thank you, next’

friends, that’s what it was suppose to be. pals, mates, schoolmates, whatever the fuck you called it. it wasn’t suppose to be frenemies, to friends to lovers! you weren’t suppose to notice the navy blue flecks of colour in his cerulean eyes, the way his lips curled in a smile after he caught that silly snitch that blazed the thick sure after a hefty match, the way he brushed the tresses of hair behind your ears when the wind was assaulting your face and you were basically swallowing your hair.

now sitting with him in the library you were mentally stabbing your stygian heart, why men. why do they do things, why do men sometimes have the decency to show sympathy, and partiality with their friends. he hugged you, he kissed your forehead when you felt dejected, james potter went through the slytherin common room to bring you chocolates on your period. which fucking gryffindor would do that, huh? definitely not frank longbottom or fabian prewett.

his hand scathed yours as he pointed at how to make a draught of peace potion, his hand was warm and smooth but only from what you touched— you could see slight callouses forming on the pads of pads palm from broom handling, and the small cracks in his knuckles from the lacking use of lotion. you felt the rapid rate of your heart merely increasing at the minute from the slight touch, a rush of rose clouded your cheeks. this was so embarrassing.

‘One day I'll walk down the aisle

Holding hands with my mama

I'll be thanking my dad

'Cause she grew from the drama

Only wanna do it once, real bad

Gon' make that last

God forbid something happens

Least this song is a smash (song is a smash)’

you were mid flight, smashing a bludger in the direction of the vermillion colours. even when you were immensely sweaty, intensely panting, abundantly tired, and your arm looked like it wanted to fall off he wanted to kiss the energy back into you. james loved winning against slytherin, it might’ve been his favourite thing at hogwarts; but he would murder a pack of death eaters if it meant he got to see your smile when your emerald-clad seeker clutched that small golden ball.

both teams landed, a handshake due for the game to be over after almost two continuous hours of playing and that stubborn ball blazing the air. he meant to walk over there, a hug overdue in his prideful way of saying congratulations but he did not think that he would’ve strided over to your panting figure and clasped your soft cushion lips with his own parched ones from the continuous heaving in his breath.

your lips tasted of peach, hints of mango. your lips dried of chapstick but still smooth— feeling the grooves in your lips, they were puffy and swollen probably from the tremendous amount of times you had bitten your lips in anxiety. your lips disconnected for a moment, suddenly realizing that you had an audience of your fellow slytherins, your enemy gryffindors and not one but two shocked crowds of hufflepuffs and ravenclaws suddenly watching the private scene unfold.

james cleared his throat, looking at your grinning face that was encased between his palms, your face was significantly flushed, your chest moving every millisecond at the loss of breath in your lungs. “good, uh, good game james.”

‘I've got so much love (love)

Got so much patience (patience)

I've learned from the pain (pain)

I turned out amazing (turned out amazing)

I've loved and I've lost (yeah, yeah)

But that's not what I see (yeah, yeah)

'Cause look what I've found (yeah, yeah)

Ain't no need for searching

And for that, I'll say’

cocky, quidditch captain, school prankster, pureblood gryffindor, and head boy. that to the peering eyes of hogwarts was james potter, but he was so much more than that. he was like an onion, gross comparison but for the sake of it you’ll use it, he had layers but everyday it’s like you cried a little less and you peeled just a bit more.

he was benevolent, he guided first years to common rooms and sometimes he studied with fourth year hufflepuffs. he was sensible, sometimes, he helped out madame pomfrey in the healers wing when remus had been injured from a full moon along with any remaining students in the ward from previous incidents, not to mention, you did uncover remus’ ‘furry secret’ and swore to secrecy. and most of all, james was cherishing, he actually did give a fuck when you had a bad day, he stroked your back and hummed you stupid baby lullabies.

i mean could you imagine lucius malfoy and evan rosier humming a girl lullabies when they were upset? celebratory kisses after quidditch, bringing you snacks while you were overwhelmed in school work and actually made an effort in the relationship? they would’ve bought you a pair of red bottoms and called it a day.

‘Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (said thank you, next)

Thank you, next (next)

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next

Thank you, next

Thank you, next

Yeah’

there was infact one thing that your past relationships taught you;

never date a man to ever be put in the slytherin house ever again.

taglist: @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @maddoxsmythologicalmind @amourtentiaa @msmb @five-cups-of-coffee @emmaev @serenitywilderness @spencerfuckingreidswhore @artemis1orion @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @dear-luna @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul @sirius-animagus

[scottfuckingreed]

It’s a Pogue Thing - Part Three

This is a JJ Maybank story

-

Warnings!: swearing and mentions of abuse

-

     I wake up alone. Not only without JJ, but also without Kiara. I’m confused until I smell it... breakfast? It can’t be. Throwing myself out of bed, I dress myself and prepare myself for the brightness outside this room. “Ah there she is!” John B smiles. Before I can even react. a bit of toast bounces off of my head. All I can do is shut my eyes. I’m not even a fully functioning human yet. “Thanks,” I slide my feet across the floor, all the way to the couch. “Nice sleep?” Kiara chuckles, handing me an ‘in tact’ piece of toast. “It was alright.” I shrug. Internally I feel giddy. “You looked like you were pretty deep into it,” she adds. I was. She’s absolutely right. “I bet she was,” the husky morning voice of JJ erupts as he comes out of the bathroom. “Especially after last night.” His words get linked with a wink, followed by my heart stopping. “Yeah I’m sorry about that guys...” I flash my eyes straight over to John B. I’m definitely overthinking everything. Why would anyone even think JJ and I would ever? We wouldn’t. I guess that’s not true anymore. Either way, I’m fully awake now. “I didn’t realize it would be such a dead end.” Kiara’s hand cups John B’s shoulder in attempt to comfort. The blend of pain and disappointment in his voice was radiating through him. I wish there was another way; an easier way. “We just need to look closer. I’m sure there’s something,” I lie. “Are we sure there’s anything to find at all?” I throw my bread at the jackass. “JJ!” Ki follows. “You’re just pissed ‘cause I’m being honest. I’m sorry John, but what are we going on again?” I decide to stay quiet. “It doesn’t hurt to look again-” “You guys do what you want.”

     Not fully sure why, I rush my shoes on and follow the boy storming away. I feel somewhat protective over him. It’s a strange feeling. “JJ! Wait!” I call, jogging to catch up with him. He hardly slows. The anger was pretty much radiating off of his body. “If you’re here to-” “I’m here because I agree with you,” he pauses and frowns. “Even if there’s nothing, we still have to try.” Saying those words aloud feels like betrayal. I wish I had the guts to say what I thought, just like JJ, but there’s a time and a place. And both of those were wrong in that moment. “It’s false hope.” His words are blunt. “I know,” I whisper. I smooth my hair back with my hands. “You- he needs this JJ.” As he nods, he rolls his eyes. “He’s my best friend Y/N-” “I know JJ, but you just need to be a little more sensitive.” Once again, he rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry, I just can’t lie to him,” shrugging, I realize this will continue to go in circles. “Fine,” I give up. A little frustrated, I turn around and start walking back to John B’s. “Where are you going?” I turn around quickly. I can’t help but frown at him. Like a dog, I tilt my head slightly to the side. “I thought we could grab some breakfast?” “I- what?” “I can tell you’re pissed.” Wow. Is it that obvious? I guess I don’t hide my emotions very well. “We ate at John’s...” I don’t know if I want to eat with him right now. “No. I didn’t eat, and you threw yours at me. Come on,” he nods and walks away from me. That’s it? And of course I follow him. I can’t not. 

     The walk was too quiet. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it had the ‘do I speak now or not’ vibe. When we get to a table in a small cafe, I sit opposite him slowly. “You can’t be that mad at me...” He chuckles slightly. Then comes the smirk. I didn’t know a look could do so many things to a person. It makes me want to slap him so bad. It also just makes me smile. “I’ll buy the food?” He tempts. “Do I even want to know where you get your money from?” The top and bottom lip press together on the boy’s face. “Probably not, you’re a good girl,” he winks. 

     Food. The boy truly knows me. So once that glorious breakfast spread was displayed in front of me - those exquisite eggs, the beautiful bacon, that tasty ass toast - he was forgiven. No grudges. I don’t even remember why I was even annoyed at him. “Wow,” is all I can express. Only a very small number of things can make me speechless. This is at the top of that list. “I know, I’m amazing,” he nods with a smug look on his face. Even when he’s joking about it, he always looks incredibly pleased with himself. I wish I had his confidence... or arrogance. Which either one it is, it works for him. Which is an utter shame. 

     We both indulged in every bite. Our plates looked both new and pristine. I am entirely and completely stuffed, and yet - if someone offered it to me - I could probably eat more. Although, I would definitely be sick. “That was so fucking good,” I let out in a ‘little too sexual’ of a moan. “That’s hot,” he informs me. God he’s so annoying. “Don’t even try it, JJ,” I wave my fork towards him. My threat just causes his to smirk. “So, what do you wanna do now?” A pleading smile gleams across his face. It’s not like me to give in to such tendencies. I just cannot seem to help it when it comes to JJ. “You don’t wanna go back to your boyfriend’s?” I tease. “Not really,” he shrugs. “I need a break from all that crime shit for today.” I don’t blame him. I hate to say it, but it brings an awkward and depressing atmosphere. I do feel bad for John B, but it’s too much if it’s all the time. A break, as selfish as it sounds, is what I need for today.

      As I stand up from my seat, my eyes immediate lock to the next customers walking through the door. Topper and Rafe. All I can think to do is sit back down. Just before my body starts zoning out, I hear JJ’s voice. “What are you doing?” He laughs in confusion. I haven’t been very open about mine and Rafe’s ‘relationship’ at all. I hate to even call it that. They know that he was a dick, which is the biggest understatement of the century, and they know we had a pretty awful break up. That’s it. At least I wish that was it. 4 months isn’t long enough to heal after... him. It’s just not. He’s mentally, emotionally, and literally physically everywhere. I nod my head, hinting at him to turn around. “Ah.” Is all he says. Rafe sends an obvious smirk to Topper, before making a straight line towards me and JJ. “Hey beautiful,” my skin crawls at his words. He makes me so angry, but I struggle to find the words to say. “What do you want Rafe?” I let out in a harsh tone. I wish I could scream at him, and just call him out on every single thing, but I can’t. Fuck. “Just here for something to eat,” he raises his eyebrows and smirks, placing a heavy hand on JJ’s shoulder. He doesn’t even budge, just lets an annoyed smile spread across his face. Topper chuckles at his best friend’s revolting sexual innuendo. “Why are you such a little bitch?” JJ nudges Topper on his side. It was just a poke, but it sent Topper moving. “What did you just call me?” Topper moves back towards him. JJ shoots up out of his chair. “You heard me, I don’t think you can move much further up his ass,” I press my lips together, trying not to laugh. “Can we just go?” His eyes just stare into Topper’s, while Rafe looks proudly at his boy. “JJ...” I wrap my hand around his forearm and pull slightly. “Fine.” Just as I get the boy to move away from the scene, Rafe decides to make the comment, “Who’s the bitch now?!” As you can expect, JJ does a 180 and darts back towards the two assholes. A fist hits my ex’s face. 

“God JJ,” I raise my voice slightly at the boy, sucking in my sad emotions. If anything I’m annoyed at myself for not being to stick up for myself. It’s just so hard to see him, let alone hear his voice. And to communicate with him? It feels almost impossible. “Why are you annoyed at me?” He snaps. “I’m not, I just wish you’d know when to leave things alone,” I roll my eyes. “I’m not your bitch Y/N.” I ignore him. I know he’s not. I realise I am probably projecting my frustration out now, and taking it out on someone who is very easy to argue with. “No, you don’t even fucking listen to me.” I speed up my walk. There are several things I need to do; breathe is the first one, then probably punch something or someone, then cry. Crying sounds like a plan. Footsteps inch closer and closer behind me. “I didn’t mean to upset you, I was just-” “I know.” I stop him. If he asks that question, the question I have avoided since the break up, I will break down. Fragile is an understatement. I’m like a bird with a broken wing, or a dried out twig ready to snap. One little gush of wind and I’m done. I will break. “Did something else happen, with you and Rafe?”

flashback

I made a joke. That’s it. I was caught up in the moment, and made a joke that he didn’t find funny. I could tell. He didn’t shout. He didn’t even raise his voice. He just stayed silent. His face just dropped. He’s pissed. He’s pissed at me. There was no retaliation, solely because his friends were around. Topper was there. There were other’s there. Now there’s not. I’m fucked. 

“Look, Rafe, I didn’t mean-” “You didn’t mean it? All you do it fucking embarrass me! You always mean it!” He shouts. The rasp in his voice startles me, and instantly pushes the tears out of my eyes. I’m scared. I’m scared of him. I’m scared for me. “I was just joking around, I-I-I-I” I stutter. The words pause as I get pushed against the counter. The harsh corner stabs into my back, making me fall to the floor in pain. I sit quietened by the wind being pushed out of my body. My mouth stays wide in agonizing pain, but my scream is silent. There’s no weep. There’s not a cry. Just tears falling down my now heated cheeks. I take a deep inhale of breath. I have no strength, emotional or physical, to get myself off of the floor. I can’t... Not on my own. Rafe’s face sits in the sight of my blurred eyes, as he places himself in front of me. “I don’t know why you always do this baby,” his fingers, which were previously on harsh hands, caress my chin softly. A thumb wipes my tears. Instead of pushing him away like I should, I nuzzle my hand into his hand. I’ve made enough mistakes tonight. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. A set of lips go to my forehead. 

“Y/N...” A soft voice snaps me back to reality. That was early days. It wasn’t even bad then. I cough slightly. How awkward. “Did he hurt you?” He asks, in a tone I don’t know if I’ve ever heard JJ use. It was gentle and careful, and had meaning behind it. Despite JJ being an idiot, I trust JJ with my life. Literally. But this... I can’t tell anybody about it. Not a soul. “He broke my heart JJ,” honestly, I’m not sure if I lied to JJ or not. I don’t ever remember loving that guy. I must’ve. 

We head back to John B’s. Everyone other than Pope was still there. John was looking at the research his father gathered, and combining it with the little amount we’ve managed to find. Ki was cleaning his shitty place up. She’s way to good to that boy sometimes. Somehow, no matter how many times it gets cleaned, it’s always a huge mess. “Where did you guy’s go?” Luckily, with the long-ish walk back, we no longer look stressed. “We got breakfast,” I throw myself onto the couch. John B looks up from his pages and raises his eyebrows. “You never take me to breakfast!” He throws his hand over his heart, clearly in pain. “You’re not as good company as me John, just accept it.” “Did you pay for it?” Kiara asks. I immediately sit up, snapping my head to the boy as I realise. “You little thief,” JJ says before I can even speak. “No I-” “Damn Y/N, I must be rubbing off on you, finally.”

[iha-tepeople]

Movie Night

Word Count: 820

Genre: Smut

Hoseok x African American Reader

Release Date - 07-13-2021

Reader Pronouns - She/Her

Sum.- You and Hoseok acted in a movie together and you’re watching the movie premiere (au - actor au: everyone is an actor)

Warning: Slight Edging, Aftercare, and Public Sex

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Submit a request or post!

Masterlist

You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing non-stop with text messages. You grab your phone and it’s hoseok. “Are you gonna be here on time?” “Are you even awake?” the text messages say. You think to yourself what is he talking about, you look at the calendar. “Oh shit!” you say, it’s the day of the movie premiere.

Luckily, you didn’t wake up too late. You shower and get ready and head to the premiere. This was the premiere of the biggest movie in centuries. Millions of people were there. You’re finding your way around and get a call from Hoseok. “Are you here?” he says. You respond and he tells you how to get to your seat.

You get to your seat and you and him have a private area since you two are the main actors of this big movie premiere. You sit down and talk with Hoseok waiting for the movie to start. While you talking you couldn’t help but look down at the open jacket Hoseok had on with no shirt.

Zoned out. Hoseok calling you zone back and he says “What’s wrong is there something on my shirt?” you look at him and say no and right before you talk the movie starts. Halfway through the movie, you can’t help notice Hoseok moving closer to you but you think nothing of it.

Next thing you know Hoseok is right next to you. You look at him you two are face to face. He looks you up and down and opens his jacket. He says “Isn’t this what you were looking at earlier?” flustered you look away and say “No why would I look down your shirt?” He grabs your chin and turns your head saying “Oh, come on princess you don’t have to lie to me”

He smirks moving his hand to your throat. He chokes you and says “How about we have a little fun throughout this movie?” He sticks his hand up your dress “Oh wow” he says “Wet for me already I see well why don’t we have fun with that” he slowly puts his fingers inside you. He turns your face and makes you look at him while he fingers your pussy.

Holding your face to his he whispers in your ear “How about you do me a little favor as well princess, that is if you want.” He turns around teasing you because he knows exactly what you want. You turn to him and say “Can you please fuck me”. He looks and smirks “If you want me to fuck then get in front of me and beg” he says.

He grabs your hand and pulls you over to him and you get on your knees and say “Please fuck me daddy I’m begging you”. He smirks and says “I can’t just fuck you I need a favor first and I think you know what it is.” you nod your head yes. He pulls out his dick and says “Get to work sweetheart”

You swirl your tongue around the tip of his dick. You can see Hoseok throw his head back in pleasure. You put his dick in your mouth and go up and down. He whimpers from the pleasure of you deepthroating his dick. You go all the way down and swirl your tongue at the bottom and right before he cums.

He grabs your head and lifts it up, he smirks, wipes your mouth and says “Good job princess why don’t we get to the main part of the show?”. He grabs you by the waist and stands you up and stands up himself. He looks and you and says “Bend over the chair.” you look at him surprised and say “Will anyone see us?”

He smiles and bends you over the chair. He says “What if they do? More risk the better.” He inserts his rock hard dick inside of you. Not that you didn’t like it your body was aching for him. He pumps in and out of you. He bends down while fucking you and says “Your inside feel so good princess”

He sits up and starts going faster and harder until he lets out his hot warm cum inside of you. He sits you up and grabs you by your face and says “Now wasn’t that fun?” you both put your clothes on and look around and the movie is done. He looks at you and says “Why don’t we go to my house and shower and eat?” you agree and you guys leave the theatre.

@verytalented @spexialvixtimxunit @plasticsssxposse