#did they not have a black creme before? beats me

[sergle]

the new ILNP cremes look like they’re going to rip. ass. this teal is simply dastardly 

[fairybinie]

COPYCCINO — 30: before the storm

synopsis: soobin has been talking to who he thought was his unrequited crush on messages, only to find out through a visit to their coffee shop that it was in fact not them. not only does he meet the real y/n, he runs into their friend yeonjun, an ex friend of his who he has some unresolved issues with. as soobin and the real y/n are getting to know each other, yeonjun and soobin are working through their misunderstandings, as well as trying to figure out who the catfish was.

taglist: @iyeonjuni @soobnny @taeyun @yyx2 @odxrilove @ifwtyun @luvrbin @iuwon @moondust-zia @jakekgs @soobintoyou @ijhyo @cherr-y-eji @peachy-yabbay @ameliesaysshoo @sunlightwoo @enhacolor @hotboyyeonjun @multi4lifer @milkycloudtyg @bluhr @strawberri-uyu @magicalstudentwhispers @notdrunkbutdazed @cheolsaurus @butterflx @cherrybeomgyu @skinnygowon @gu8ki @feyregels @blahbluhblahbluh @hueofjamjam @wccycc @mnlylonely @seventeeneration @hyukabean @boba-beom @moaberryjjunie @soobmint @tae-ology @voidbeomgyu @hyuntaena @loverhyunn @ericyjun @calumsfringe @7thgyu @ashxxkook @soobsfairy444 @sansluvr @flrtsbin

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a/n: written (4.8k) + smau. light profanity, a bit suggestive, me attempting my best to describe the observatory i went to a couple years ago and me being peak delulu 🥴

the special moment that all lovebirds look forward to the most.

the first date.

after spending the week anxiously waiting for the day to come, having conversations wondering how it’ll go, it’s now about to happen.

y/n wasn’t planning to put their heart on the line, let alone actually develop feelings for this boy. ever since that day he walked into the cafe, finding out what the real dilemma was, they thought that was gonna be it. the primary reason for their interaction would revolve around this person who catfished soobin, with their own pictures.

but then that problem went away. and they were still talking.

y/n tried not to think about the logistics of anything. is it odd that they now like the boy who got catfished with their very own photos? maybe. it wasn’t their fault that happened though. nobody can control how they feel.

especially if it’s reciprocated.

you could say the same thing for soobin. he got his heart broken finding out the person he admired so dearly turned out to be who they said they weren’t. he found out by meeting the actual person too, nobody can make this up. his heart needed time to heal, and turns out that healed heart found something to keep its beats going. it found someone.

fast forward to the present, each of them scrambling inside their closets to find something presentable. there’s y/n having an internal battle deciding whether they want to do just cute or just casual, as if they can’t do both. on facetime with the trio after deciding that their texts did absolutely nothing for them.

with the help of yeonjun, taehyun, and kai, their outfit was finally assembled. a creme crewneck that was slightly oversized, a pair of plain black shorts they had to dig to find considering all they own were ripped items, their white air forces which were still in their prime thanks to taehyun, that man is crazy about keeping things clean. lastly, some accessories and beanie to pull everything together. it did end up being both simple and cute, especially complimenting the weather as it was starting to finally get chilly out. after a couple hours in distress, y/n was finally satisfied. yeonjun takes all the credit, of course.

soobin on the other hand, had it fairly easier. after checking in with kai over an outfit he was contemplating on, deciding that beomgyu and sieun also did absolutely nothing for him, he was all set. a designed black hoodie with a nice pair of black sweats and his white shoes to tie everything together. the man did spend a while pondering if he should wear his glasses, or if the look was better as it was. remembering the times he’s worn his glasses in front of y/n, the compliments he received, he ultimately decided to go for it.

this time around, y/n stopped by soobin’s dorm to pick him up, as they were driving in y/n’s car. soobin did offer to ride on his bike together, but it was quickly shut down after looking at how long it would take to get there on two wheels. no way.

after greeting each other, not missing the chance to compliment each other for both wearing air forces, several blushes exchanged, the two were now on their way to the desired location.

“i can’t believe we were gonna ride on your bike,” y/n turns the music down to speak after quite some time. they offered to play some tunes as they drove to spare the times they weren’t talking, which was a great decision as the two shared some high notes together.

soobin brings his attention back onto y/n after staring out the window for a bit, admiring the scenery that was the orange and pink hues in the sky. 

“i didn’t think it would take us two days to get there,” soobin defends. he chuckles after adding, “it’s crazy what the difference between a car and a bike could be.” 

y/n nods in astonishment, remembering how genuinely surprised they were at the difference in destination arrivals. 

“can’t say i wouldn’t enjoy those two days on that bike,” y/n notes slyly. they definitely would’ve just kept this to themselves, but throughout the week, they decided that they wanted to be more daring. slowly, they've been more open with soobin and it’s led to many cute moments. 

soobin has definitely noticed. 

the boy smiles shyly to himself as he readjusts his seatbelt. gotta do something with your hands. “i would too.” 

a comfortable silence ensues as they’re both left with their thoughts in their mind. before they knew it, they finally arrived. 

setting their car into park, y/n locks the doors as they remain in their place, leaving a confused soobin to sit and stare. 

“you’re not gonna like this,” y/n warns, some pity written all over their face. 

soobin blinks as he takes off his seatbelt cautiously. “i’m not gonna like what?” 

“we have to walk.” 

the seatbelt is off and soobin laughs, finding y/n’s randomness endearing. “i don’t mind walking a bit.” 

“we have to walk up a hill.” 

soobin nods his head slowly, not entirely seeing the point. the boy hates exercise, but there are exceptions. “i don’t mind walking up a little hill.” 

y/n shuts their eyes, hoping it wouldn’t lead to this but unfortunately it did. they bring their hand to gesture towards the green landscape in front of where they’re parked. “that’s the hill.”

and it was huge. 

soobin feels a dry gulp in his throat. he saw that hill when they parked, but he was hoping there was another way to get to the observatory instead. he was way wrong. there were no exceptions, he hates exercise. 

“do you wanna just grab a burger and call it a day?” 

y/n pushes his shoulder and soobin smiles, more so because he’s dreading the walk. 

“cmon let’s go, it’s gonna be fine.” 

before he could protest, the doors were unlocked and y/n was out of the vehicle, forcing him to do the same thing. they walk side by side as they cross a small bridge, finally being met with the obstacle they feared. 

the walk wasn’t as bad as soobin had expected, but it was still tiring. the more they kept going, the steeper the hill felt. he’s internally grateful that he has long legs to withhold all this force or else he’d be dead meat. 

can’t say the same for y/n. they were not blessed with long limbs. surprisingly, soobin made his way to become a bit ahead than y/n. the boy had to look behind him a couple times to make sure y/n was still following. 

as they make their way to the end of the hill, a deep hole into the ground takes soobin by surprise as he just barely dodged it. he stops in his place to see y/n about to walk right on it, and warns them quickly. 

“hey, there’s a-” 

too late. y/n nearly face planted on the ground if it weren’t for soobin catching them into his arms, y/n’s hands fidgeting around to find a place to settle. redness seeps into their cheeks, their face feeling hot. in hopes that soobin couldn’t notice that, they look down at their shoes and attempt to ignore the fact that they almost ate it. 

“terry’s not gonna be happy about this one,” they joke, commenting on the fact that their shoes had some dirt on them now. so much for those clean five months. 

soobin smiles at the fact and doesn’t miss the chance to joke around. “i thought you knew the way around here,” he says in reference to the fact that y/n has been here before. 

y/n rolls their eyes as they stomp the dirt off their shoes one last time. “and i said it’s been a while, your point?” 

the two face right in front of them and they realize all that hard work has come to an end, seeing that the observatory is right there. before they can comment anything, the pair realize that they’re still holding hands. they glance at each other, the purest smiles on their faces. almost as if it was insinuated, they stay that way and y/n continues. 

“let’s head on, shall we?” 

the two head straight forward, hand by hand, butterflies in their stomach, ready to have a good time by the stars. 

...

walking into the place, soobin was filled with so much joy. it almost looked like a plaza inside, with a mini museum alongside the actual planet and stars presentation a couple rooms over. there’s a built in food court with a variety of food options, and of course the view on the roof. one could say this was heaven. soobin would say this is disneyland. 

the pair find their way to the receptionist as soon as they walk in. a bright young lady who seems to enjoy working there is behind the desk. 

“welcome! how can i help you?” she greets the couple. 

soobin and y/n exchange a quick look from happiness before y/n begins to talk. 

“two tickets for your next planets program please,” y/n asks, unknowingly squeezing soobin’s hand from their excitement. 

the lady searches on her computer and gives a curt nod, a slight hum escapes from her lips. “the next showing is in about ten minutes, is that alright?” 

soobin’s eyes light up hearing this. the sooner the better. “couldn’t be better!” he says out loud, a bit embarrassed by his demeanor. y/n however, finds it adorable. he’s just like a big kid. 

the lady emails their tickets and gives one last goodbye before they head off. “tickets for two, enjoy the show!” 

the pair exchange some thank yous and begin to walk over to the room where the showing will be. ‘tickets for two’ kept replaying in y/n’s mind, it’s almost like a confirmation that it really was the real deal. a date. 

the air inside was crisp, the air conditioning at the perfect temperature and it seems like there’s even a hint of some scent as well. ocean breeze, they think. 

when they finally go inside the room, they see how truly huge yet compact it was. the seats were structured like a circle, the rows getting bigger as the circle gets wider. the projector screen is right above them. 

they take their seats along the middle, finding a space where it wasn't too crowded. the presentation should start any minute now, and everyone in that room is filled with anticipation. 

the two sit restfully in their seats, waiting quietly. y/n shifts their head over to look at soobin, who is looking up above. they take in his features, almost like this was the actual show. the purple lighting inside the room made him look out of this world. like this was in a movie. the way his glasses sit perfectly on his face, they couldn’t believe a pair of specs could suit a person so much. perfectly shaped and perfectly clean, the black color matching his entire appearance so nicely. the way his hair is not too messy, a few pieces going in different directions giving it that every day look. reminiscent of boba pearls. the way his eyes are fixated above him, looking ever so glossy and full of life. the color was plain, yet it still felt so different than the others. they had no problem getting lost in them. the way his nose is the perfect size, feeling the instinct to boop it with their finger. the way his dimple is peeking through his cheek despite not smiling, almost like it was a restful home. the way his lips gape open slightly, as if he couldn’t close it all the way, showcasing some of his teeth. as weird as it sounds, y/n loved his teeth. they weren’t perfectly straight, but whenever he smiled they were as white as milk, its structure reminding them of a rabbit’s. his lips are plump and colored, looking ever so healthy and not chapped at all, giving them the urge to kiss- 

“what’s on your mind?” 

shoot. 

y/n is taken aback slightly, blinking a couple times to bring them back into reality. they see soobin is looking deep at them, a small smile on his face. he looks so peaceful, just waiting for the show to start. 

“nothing, just,” y/n hesitates while searching through his eyes. the galaxy was meant to be right above them, but they find it inside him. ‘you’re really pretty’ they want to say. 

“enjoy the show, bean.” 

and with that being said, the room begins to slowly dim until it’s completely dark. some earthly music starts playing, and an announcer takes over everyone’s ears. 

“what exactly, is the galaxy?”

...

after the viewing was over, y/n and soobin decided to look around the museum a bit. plenty of paintings hung all over the walls, the plaques displaying their meanings. a few sculptures presented at certain spots that left them in awe. they weren’t art people, but it really left an impression on them. 

going to the food court to get a bite was next on the itinerary. the two would go on to share some conversations while simultaneously blowing on their noodles. they sat outside, having a perfect view of the hill right beside them. a few jokes were made about the fact that they went through hell on that hill, dreading the fact that they would have to come down again when they leave. surely it should be easier, since they’re going down instead of up. 

now, they’re outside on the upper level of the observatory. the stars inside were beautiful, but nothing can ever beat the real thing. they’ve been here before the sun was about to set, and now the dim night sky has taken over, showcasing the bright twinkles in the sky. the air is brisk, chilly as y/n had expected and hoped for. the heat was finally coming to an end. 

surprisingly, they were the only ones out here at this hour. they’ve definitely utilized it, talking about anything they could think about. 

“you were right,” soobin speaks up after some time. he faces y/n to his side while leaning his elbows against the ledge. “it’s beautiful here.” 

y/n beams hearing that. “i knew you would like it,” they reply in a sing song tone. 

soobin nods his head assuringly and thinks of an idea. “do you want a picture out here?” 

before y/n could say anything, soobin is already right behind them, whipping his phone out from his pocket. y/n turns around and slightly leans on the ledge, unsure with what to do with their hands. 

“you’re taking it on your phone?” 

soobin stops himself from opening his camera app on his already unlocked device and ponders about what he’s doing. it was like it was a natural instinct. he shrugs his shoulders gushingly with a soft laugh, “i mean, yeah.” 

y/n feels their cheeks begin to rise in heat as they attempt to figure out how to pose. they ultimately decide on a slight tilt of the head, arms stretched out behind them, the view behind complimenting their position. 

soobin begins to count down from three and the camera’s clicks can be heard. y/n slowly brings their eyes onto soobin, who doesn’t seem to know he has the biggest smile on his face. maybe they’re crazy, but perhaps they’re the reason why. 

y/n scurries away from where they were standing and begins to push soobin to where they once originally were, leaving the boy to remain confused. y/n whips their phone out from their pocket and starts to unlock it, getting their camera ready. 

“you need pictures too!” 

soobin tucks his phone behind him as he starts to pose a bit, a peace sign being the most natural thing he could do. he may be stiff, but y/n thinks he’s gorgeous. a simple peace sign, a head tilt, his eyes closed shut with a small smile makes their heart melt. 

they gather around to view the photos, asking to send each of them to each other. before they can put their phone away, y/n brings the camera onto selfie mode. soobin takes the hint and instinctively fixes his hair, a habit of his. the two get as comfortable as they can, noticing that the longer they took these photos the more close in proximity they became. by the end of it, y/n is leaning onto his upper right chest, soobin’s head resting peacefully onto theirs. 

it was at this moment when soobin began to think about what sieun had told him not too long ago, their first hangout that wasn’t detective work. 

‘if you really like y/n for who they are, not all the yun stuff, then you have your answer.’

soobin wants to keep doing this. he wants to keep doing this with y/n. throughout his whole life, he hasn’t been the daring kind. always stuck to his routine, comfortable in his own skin. y/n completely changed that for him. putting aside how they originally met, y/n’s introduced him to so many new things. something as small as hot chocolate, to now, a place that has what he absolutely loves. stars. 

he wants to be with y/n for who they are, not yun. they were never yun, yun was them.

and he thinks he has an answer. 

“can i tell you something?” he asks after they’ve repositioned themselves where y/n is leaning on the nearest pole, soobin only a few inches in front of them. 

“you can tell me anything.” y/n’s voice is as quiet as it can be. all of a sudden, it’s like the whole world can hear. it’s just them. 

soobin takes a second to compose his thoughts, figuring out how to speak them without sounding jumbled. he decides what’s best for him is to get straight to the point. that’s all that matters anyway. 

“i’ve gotten over yun.” he says confidently. it also happens to be the first time he’s said it out loud, almost like it was a confirmation. there’s nothing to take back. 

y/n’s heart skips a beat, wondering if this was gonna go where they think it was gonna go. they only hoped for the best. “have you now?” 

the boy nods his head in agreement, a hum escaping from his lips. now was the time to explain. 

“i’m gonna be honest, it was hard at first. i’ve never had someone be so open about their feelings for me so i just took them as my whole world,” he lays his heart out. y/n does their best to listen, even if it does sting a bit. but they must realize this was before they met. 

“... and then they lied to me, using your pictures,” he sighs in disappoint. “i didn’t want to continue liking someone like that.” 

“... for a few days i thought about what they meant to me. that if there was a chance for forgiveness, and part of me really considered it.” 

it hurts y/n to hear him say that. feeling sorry that he’s ever stooped to that level. a person who deceits this terribly doesn’t deserve to be forgiven this easily. 

as if soobin could read their mind, he shifts towards a different direction. the one he intended on.

“... but hanging out with you, getting to know you, i’ve realized that this is what a good person is. someone who’s honest, down to earth, loving,” y/n doesn’t miss the chance to blush. 

“... i want to spent my time with someone like that. if i’m gonna have feelings for anyone, i want them to be for someone just like that. so i’ve moved on.” 

y/n had honestly thought that’s where he was going to end it. just a disclaimer, he’s moved on. that was good news on its own, but it was far from over. 

“sieun told me that you and yun are two different people,” soobin recalls, a transition towards his final point. 

y/n chuckles in agreement, clicking their tongue in the process. “she’s not wrong.” 

“you’re you, yun is yun,” soobin starts to close the distance between them a bit more before the words finally escape from his mouth. 

“... and i like you.” 

he finally said it. just where they were hoping it would go. 

“... you’re you, you’ve always been you. not yun. i like you for you, y/n. not anything that has to do with them.” 

if y/n had any doubts, this would be the most reassuring thing they’ve ever heard. but they’ve always trusted soobin. they didn’t think he’d ever develop feelings, but they can say they never thought he’d consider them the same person. 

“...and, yeah,” he could’ve said more, but he was already embarrassed enough. he technically just confessed. it was all y/n needed to know. 

“i like you too, soobin.” y/n adjusts their position so they’re standing a bit more straight. 

“i never thought i’d develop feelings for you, but something shifted in the middle of it and i’m glad it did.” 

even if y/n said anything else, he wouldn't have heard. his mind is too fixated on the fact that they like him back. 

the two stand for a few more beats, stupidly looking at each other in admiration. as if their minds were telepathically communicating, cherishing the moment as much as they could. 

“so..what happens now?” y/n asks, stretching out the question. 

soobin purses his lips in thought until he remembers what happened earlier today. y/n had no idea, but he knows that they were staring at him earlier. staring at him with thoughts in their mind. 

“what were you thinking about earlier before the show started?” he brings up. to avoid any further questions, or y/n using the opportunity to act dumb, he specifies. “when we were sitting in our seats and i had asked you.” 

if y/n wasn’t thrown off by the confession, they were definitely thrown off now. they stutter quietly as they think about the best possible answer they could come up with. 

“i..i told you. to enjoy the show.” 

soobin tilts his head in doubt while sucking in his breath. “hm, i don’t think that was it. what was it really?” 

y/n scoffs and rolls their eyes, crossing their arms in defense. “i thought you weren’t a mind reader mr. psych major.��� 

“i can be when it comes to you,” he replies nonchalantly. 

ooh. 

y/n gives up. they’ve already told him they like him, what more could they lose. 

“i was thinking about how pretty you are,” y/n adds in a rushed whisper. “about how pretty your lips are.” 

soobin widens his eyes with a smirk on his face. he gestures his hand towards his ear and bends forward in a teasing manner. “what was the last part? couldn’t hear.” 

y/n scrunches their nose in annoyance, wondering where the cocky attitude came from. they sigh in defeat, responding with clenched teeth. “about how pretty your lips are.” 

he expected the answer, but still, soobin couldn’t deny the fluttering sensation that just ensued. 

“thought so,” he comments while asking one last question. “is that everything?” 

maybe they were tired of holding back, or maybe it’s because they actually wanted to go through with it already, but y/n immediately gave in. 

“about how i want to kiss them.” 

soobin responds with a ‘hm’ while shifting his gaze back onto the sky. 

“glad it wasn’t just me.” 

he lets the comment sink in before looking back at y/n, a bit of a sorrowful look replacing his confident demeanor. “i’ve never kissed anybody before.” 

y/n is genuinely surprised by this, their face probably giving it away. how could he have never kissed anyone? there’s nothing wrong with that, but based on who soobin was, they figured that he’s at least had the opportunity before. he’s a great guy that anyone would love. 

“i have once,” y/n admits. “wasn’t that great, though.” 

soobin feels his heart drop to the pit of his stomach, a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t be their first as they would be his. 

“must’ve been a lucky person,” he mutters under his breath, but decipherable enough where y/n could hear. 

they chuckle a bit before revealing everything else. “oh yeah, his way of thanking me for giving him my last cookie during recess. we crashed lips and then i cried after because he tasted yucky.” 

once he realizes they were a child, soobin feels a sense of relief come over him. 

technically it doesn’t count. 

“i want to,” soobin hesitates. “i just don’t know how.” 

y/n considers his honesty before thinking about their next move. they reach for soobin’s hands, to which he lets them hold, and they pull him near them so they’re only inches apart. 

“from what i know, you could put these here,” y/n places his hands on their waist, soobin finding them to be a perfect fit as he lets them get comfortable. y/n brings their hands to wrap themselves around soobin’s neck, to which soobin lowers himself a little to match the height difference.

“and i could put these there.” 

if they chose to, they could listen to the sound of their breathing. their faces are right there, all that’s left to do is the actual deed. two people, giving looks of readiness. about to have their first kiss. 

“what if i taste yucky too,” soobin asks, he’s being half serious, at this point he’s just saying anything. 

y/n snorts while bringing their head down, their hands securing themselves tighter around soobin’s neck, him doing the same thing on his part. y/n collects themselves as they bring themselves to look back up at soobin, closing their lips while looking at his in thought. 

“i doubt that.” 

through each second, their heads began to move closer to each other, the tips of their noses barely touching. soobin’s head tilting one way while y/n’s tilts the other. the only thought being on both their minds is if their breath smells okay. 

soobin’s had his eyes open the entire time, not trusting his sense of vision. he sees y/n start to close their eyes, so he only figured he should do the same thing. he doesn’t know how close their lips are at this point, but his eyes are fully closed, and it’s not until he feels a warm set of skin where he knows they’re finally in contact. 

it’s slow. there’s no need to be rushing, no intensity, this was their first kiss after all. their lips taste sweet, y/n’s being their vanilla chapstick they reapplied earlier that night while soobin’s tasting like the cherry icee he had for lunch. cherry vanilla, a sweet flavor for a sweet kiss. 

for being his first kiss, soobin is surprised he’s making just as much effort as y/n was. he was worried that they would be doing most of the work, since they seem to be more knowledgeable about how this goes. the fact that y/n has started to move their hands around to where they began to tug on soobin’s hair told him that he was doing something right. he feels their fingers swirl around his dark set of hair and it drove him crazy. 

he doesn’t even notice that his hands have moved up y/n’s waist to their middle to upper back until he feels himself start moving y/n up against the pole. the night was as quiet as it could be, no crickets chirping, no cars driving on the highway near the place. just the sound of their lips smacking against each other ever so delicately. 

y/n feels their stomach begin to twist around, their blood circulating through their fingers down to their toes, once they feel soobin’s tongue begin to ask for an entrance. they weren’t planning on going this far, frankly they were surprised that soobin even acted upon it. 

they let him in. 

they weren’t shoving theirs down each other’s throat, it was almost like each of them knew how far was enough. the sighs escaping from each of their lips every now and then indicates that they were enjoying it. 

almost instinctively, both of them began to feel their throats closing up, a sign that their air supply was starting to give out. nobody was timing it, but it was certain this kiss went on for a good few minutes. 

getting their last few moments in, they finally release. 

they remain with arms wrapped around each other, each having to lick the strings of saliva from their mouths clean. they’re searching through each other’s eyes, attempting to figure if they really had just kissed each other. a smile creeps up on their faces when they realize they most certainly did. 

“well,” soobin’s voice sounds hoarse. his first time speaking after all this. it comes across more as a statement than a question. 

y/n feels their cheeks begin to hurt as they reply with satisfaction. 

“definitely not yucky.” 

... 

please do not translate, modify or repost on other platforms.

© fairybinie

[ktheist]

girls like you [don’t] run ‘round with guys like me | m

characters. popular!reader x shy!jimin

genre. college au. rich kids au. fwb au. eventual ceo au. eventual racer au.

words. 4k

warnings. 18+

note. this is a repost. tumblr messed up my exposure last time. this fic didn’t show up in search and it’s probably a third post of mine that ends up like this. this one probably won’t either but posting bc someone might see it and like it.

x

It’s easy to tell when Park Jimin is in love.

Unlike Kim Seokjin, his eccentric, dad joke-loving friend, Jimin would only wear the pastel pink when he’s feeling giggly and shy and mushy inside.

The source of said feelings being either the barista he goes to get his daily dose of coffee from, or the girl at the library he studies at during finals or well, right now it’s the girl he’s fucking almost every day of the week - you.

“What are you doing?” Seokjin looks at him like he just dumped a spoonful of salt in a broth that needs a little, teensy bit of sugar.

Or his face seems to say that as he goes on, “she’s a mean girl. She’s mean.”

Jimin isn’t sure if Seokjin’s aware that he’s just repeated the same thing twice.

“She calls you Chim!” The older man reiterates.

“Yeah, it’s…” Jimin trails off, the heartwarming image of you cuddling into him after yet another mindblowing sex, flashing at the back of his mind, “...her pet name for me.”

“Sounds to me like she can’t remember your actual name,” Min Yoongi interjects from the couch he’s claimed for himself ever since they got to their usual hangout.

It’s a penthouse Jimin’s parents bought him on his 18th birthday. Him and the boys would hang around there after they’re done with classes or just need a place to crash whenever they have problems with their girlfriends or boyfriends or parents or any sort of problem that renders their usual room not sleepable.

“I think we can just agree we have different wants,” Jeongguk - or the sanest of them all, as Jimin likes to call him - chirps in, taking a bite of the apple he got from the fridge.

“Exactly,” Jimin throws his hands up as if freed from his elder friends’ judge-filled eyes. The vibration of his phone in his lap gives him even more comfort to know that he finally has an excuse to slip away - he checks his phone, your name flashing in the bubble that says ‘hey, wyd?’

“I have to go, it’s ___.”

A series of groans and hollers equally erupts from the men in the room at the realization of what Jimin’s ‘having to go’ means.

And so it goes. Jimin finds himself under your blanket that smells like fresh laundry - it’s a nude green color compared to the pleated black and white from last time. Your head is on his chest and he’s caressing your hair like it’s the softest thing he’s ever laid his hands on.

Besides your boobs, that is.

“I was thinking… since we have Monday off… maybe we could-”

It’s the way you push yourself off him, eyes that are onto him gazing straight into his soul, “oh shoot, Monday’s a public holiday. I totally forgot! I have to meet my parents. My dad’s been nagging me to come back since I skipped Christmas and New Year.”

And there goes his chance to ask you out on a date.

“Oh yeah, what were you saying about Monday?”

Jimin wears the biggest fake smile he can muster, “just that… me and the boys are gonna hang out and we’re bringing our girlfriends and boyfriends and uh- doesn’t have to be someone you’re exclusively seeing,” he almost chokes at the almost-admittance that he has the fattest crush on you and wants to make it official by inviting you to a couple’s-only hang out, “but like, I don’t think I’m going, it’s boring anyway.”

He waves his hand dismissively, trying to play it cool.

You make a cooing sound, eyebrows knitting together as your lips pout cutely before a playful smile blooms on your face, “I know what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?” Jimin thinks he heard his heart dropping to his stomach.

“Yeah, you’re single and all the boys have someone special they’re gonna bring… it’s gonna be awkward as hell because they’re gonna act different because they’re around their special someone so you thought if I was there, it’d be more fun because at least you have a friend with you that’s not gonna act fake the whole time there but I can’t go so you decided you’re not going too like a minute ago.”

Silence lulls in after your analogy that you sound so sure of when, in fact, he has a whole list of things he’d do on the date which he may or may not have gone over a hundred times in his head.

Doesn’t matter now, since that date is a no-go.

He’s going to delete that list off his phone once he gets to his place and drink himself silly until he wipes it out of his mind.

“Yeah,” Jimin says a moment later, “yeah… I mean, girls in love are cute but boys in love are just… annoying.”

The week flies by without Jimin ever mentioning Monday and you’ve showed him the clothes you’re going to wear to visit your parents because apparently-

“It’s lunch at some five star Michelin restaurant and I think they’re gonna tell me they’re getting a divorce,” your voice drifts into the room from the open, walk-in closet.

“If they’re not in some long, dreadful battle on who gets the holiday house with the pool and the dogs - how do I look?” You step out, in a frilly creme sweater with a black ribbon tied around the collar of your white undershirt with a black pleated skirt that stops mid-thighs, just inches from your black stockings.

A glaring contrast to your collection of washed out skinny jeans, plain t-shirts and sneakers.

“You… look…” Jimin knows he should stop openly ogling at your never-before-seen drip but there’s just something about the creme colored sweater.

“Like a good girl?” You offer with a smile Jimin couldn’t quite put a name to. Somehow he notices a trace of sadness in your eyes, but you disappear into the closet too soon.

“I’ll think about what to wear the morning I need to wear it,” you’re in the middle of pulling off the sweater when Jimin comes up behind you, kissing your neck and grabbing your boobs like they’re his.

The sound of your giggle is music to his ears.

That is, until his boner brushes against your butt and you gasp, “Chim! We just did it.”

“I know but you look so cute in that sweater.” He sounds exactly like Jeongguk. Like a fuckboy.

Like one of the boys you got tired of before you finally noticed him, the quiet, shy guy who’s friends with the outgoing, baby-faced Jeon Jeongguk whom - Jimin hates to admit it but he thinks about this every once so often and gets jealous all on his own - you’ve humped and dumped.

How you and Jeongguk still manage to stay friends and tease each other about the other’s choice of partners, Jimin doesn’t know.

It’s like a twin calling the other ugly.

He wonders if you and him will still stay friends after…

Jimin pushes the thought out of his mind. It’s not hard to forget everything when he’s with you - when he’s kissing you on the mouth like you’re the only girl he’ll want to spend the rest of his college life with and maybe his old days with together too.

“Chim, I can’t get my shirt creased,” you say but you’re already dripping wet and laying down in said shirt that’s half ridden up from him sucking and biting on your nipples.

He stopped you when you tried to take off your clothes.

“I’ll wash it and iron it for you,” he negotiates just as he rolls the condom over his length.

The sound of your giggle makes his heart skip a beat. Or maybe that’s the libido?

Either way, your mouth clamps shut when he pulls you down against him by the dip of your waist.

A different kind of hymn leaves your lips as Jimin throws his head back, relishing in the feeling of you around him.

When Monday rolls around, Jimin’s lying on the bean bag with his two legs sprawled over the floor. The boys are all out with either their significant others, working part-time or at a party.

The worn out baseball Jimin’s been tossing in the air and catching with one hand finally hits him square in the face when he hears the doorbell, signaling the presence of someone at the door and that someone being none of the boys because they would just punch in the code and strut in like they own the place.

Jimin thought maybe it’s Yoongi - the guy couldn’t even remember what he had for dinner and actually forgot the passcode to his own rental room once.

So he didn’t think to check who it was.

When your bright smile and slightly puffy eyes flash in front of him, Jimin thinks his soul just yeeted itself out of his body.

“Hey!” You sing song, holding up two plastic bags of beers and snacks.

It takes a moment for him to snap out of his stupor and grab them from your hands and then stepping aside to let you in.

“Is… everyone late or am I just early?” You sound increasingly confused as you step further into the center of the room, standing right next to the bean bag he was laying in just a moment ago.

“Oh-” he says once before he opens his mouth the second time, ready to spurt out another lie, “oh yeah… we decided not to ‘cause why hang out in a group when you can hang out with your significant other… you know, just the two of you… doing what couples do…”

“Huh,” you say, nodding though not quite believing him but you being you, easily lets it slide, plopping on the bean bag and grabbing the closest thing to you which is the ball that hit Jimin in the face - he’s sure he has a circular mark smack dab in the area on the top of his nose bridge, in between his eyes.

The dress you end up wearing is creme colored and riding up your thighs - Jimin swallows thickly and give extra attention to the bottle opener.

“So… how did lunch go?” He pops two beers open and hands one to you, taking a seat on Yoongi’s favorite couch and admiring how your dress is taking the shape of your body as gravity pulls it down.

“Oh, you know, everyone was being fake and acting like the perfect role in the family,” you put the beer down a few inches above your head so as to not tip it over with the ball you’re waving around but not throwing in the air like Jimin did.

“Sounds suffocating,” Jimin repeats a similar answer he gives whenever you use that dismissive tone while talking about your family.

“...are you okay?” Then he asks - and he’s genuinely asking - about your state of mind while casually downing the beer and feeling the bitterness lessen with every gulp.

The silence that lapses in between you is familiar.

“If I say no, can I get a hug?” It’s the look in your eyes, glimmering like the lake he used to go to in summer.

“Always,” he sets his beer down on the table next to the couch and goes over to you, standing on his knees before bending down and engulfing you in his arm.

You’ve always had a knack for picking yourself up.

When he sees you the next time, which is on instagram and a post of you having lunch with your friends, Jimin could hardly believe that’s the girl who asked him for a hug as if she’s afraid she’ll be putting him in an uncomfortable spot by asking for too much.

But there’s something…

Like an invisible wall made of ice that he can’t thaw through nor can he climb over to get to the other side where you are. Where you keep the people you love the closest. Closer than he’ll ever be.

Jeon Jeongguk is one of them.

In the picture of five people huddled close to fit in the frame, Jeongguk has his arm over you with a peace sign while you lean your head on his neck but not actually resting on it - like it’s an unconscious action you’d do because you’ve done that plenty of times.

Is it when you two were together?

Everyone he knows, knows that you and Jeongguk used to be more than just friends at some point.

Sometimes he still hears people talking about you two in passing.

‘Did ___ and Jeongguk get back together? I saw in Jeongguk’s snapstory - they were in a club or something.’

‘No way. There goes my chance of getting close with Jeongguk.’

‘Girl, with ___ hanging around him 24/7, do you think he’d look at girls like us?’

‘A girl can dream though.’

Jimin wanted to open his mouth and tell them they deserve way better than Jeon Jeongguk - though they’re not prettier than you.

He thinks you’re the loveliest girl on planet earth and if there was another life form on another planet, he’s almost a hundred percent sure you’d still be prettiest being in the universe with your obsession for skinny jeans and the way you’d unconsciously pout when he talks about how things weren’t going his way that day as if you would’ve exchanged your abundance of luck with his shitty one just because you’ve got that big of a heart and how you’d be walking with your friends, laughing and giggling and when you see him, you’d wave at him like you’re good friends.

Second only to Jeongguk and your friend group that you’re always hanging out with.

“Oh, ___? We were childhood friends.”

“Hmm… Gguk and I became friends because our parents are friends.”

The two of them say at different times and settings when Jimin asked, trying to play it cool. Like he isn’t just brimming with jealousy. Like he’s not half-way to losing his mind because the girl of his dreams just went to a retreat with his friend-of-a-friend-turned-actual-friend together when everyone else in the group who was excitedly planning for the trip - couldn’t make it.

The rooms at the inn weren’t even pre-booked. It was owned by Jeongguk’s family and they didn’t deposit any money for the trip for them to rationalize going on that trip anyway despite everyone else not being to go.

“The trip? It was fun, if you want we can go together next time.”

Jimin isn’t sure if you even mean that when he asked how the trip went after you’re glistening with the glow of after sex and scrolling through instagram, liking posts of everyone you know.

But then three months later, on your break, Jimin is hit with a ‘keep your schedule free next week for a whole week!!!’

Then he finds himself at a five star hotel by the beach with the most breathtaking view of the sea.

It wasn’t the inn owned by the Jeon’s but Jimin liked the fact that you brought him to a place - and he hopes his assumptions are true - your friends have never been before. Especially Jeongguk.

“Woah, this place is better than I thought,” a king sized bed lies directly across from the balcony where you’re standing, hair flying behind your back as the seaside breeze blows into the room.

“We can watch the sun rise and set from our bed,” Jimin comments for the sake of saying something.

He’s not sure what this means. He’s not sure if he should be having a boner at the thought of the two of you being together for a whole week without any other person getting in the way. He’s not sure if his heart should be thumping this fast.

For the first time since he’s known you, Park Jimin is the most unsure he’s ever been.

“You know what I wanna watch?” Your hands slip in his as you stand between him  and the open balcony door, “you under me, biting your lips because you’re still shy about the sound you make.”

So when you tug him back into the bedroom just minutes after checking in, naturally, Park Jimin follows like he’s been bewitched by your ungodly beauty.

Once the one week of nothing but heavenly morning wishes and passionate night kisses - oh, there was more than just kissing but Jimin remembers how your lips meld so perfectly together with his the most - Jimin is sure.

‘Something definitely changed.’

He thinks maybe it’s not impossible to dream of a future with you even after college.

“Jimin I-... I’m not at a point in life to be thinking about relationships,” you say, hand gripping your arm, head lowered as if your whole body is saying sorry.

“O-oh,” is all he says, he hearts his heart breaking and his chest caving.

All of a sudden, the lights in Gangnam city doesn’t seem so bright anymore.

You both live your last year pretending like the other doesn’t exist. He doesn’t look at you when he passes you and neither did you. Only talks to Jeongguk even though you’re right next to the aforementioned man - granted you were talking with your other friends like you didn’t even notice him there.

But Jimin’s never felt so invisible in his life than he does now.

Then, graduation rolls around and he thinks finally, he won’t have to walk through the hallway and pretend like he didn’t see you. Don't have to keep a five feet distance whenever you meet up for a group project.

Park Jimin doesn’t need to see your pretty face and starry eyes anymore.

“Jimin… do you have a minute?”

Or so he thought.

“So… congrats on surviving college,” you make small talk while standing just ten feet away from the boys whom he’s sure are speculating on what you’re talking about.

Jimin never got to prove to his friends that you’re not the mean, name-forgetting girl they all thought.

Jeongguk knows you’re not. He’s always backing Jimin up when Jimin’s debunking their passing accusations about you.

“Sometimes things just don’t work out between two people but doesn’t mean one of them is the bad guy.” Jeongguk's words put an end to their debate of whether Jimin deserved better than you or not.

For someone young, Jeongguk spoke his mind decidedly.

Jimin felt ashamed that he’d ever been jealous of Jeongguk’s relationship with you.

“I just… didn’t wanna leave things on a bad note. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings when I said no but I really like spending time with you - whether it’s sex or just staying over and cuddling for hours… I like it all.” You say the word sex and cuddle like they’re used interchangeably and Jimin thinks his heart just fluttered.

And you’d said it in public where your everyone can see or possibly pick up on what you were saying, at that.

Well, one thing’s for sure, you’ve got bigger balls than he does.

“My feelings are the same as six months ago and call me crazy but I don’t think you dislike me either.” He finally says and it feels like a deadweight has been lifted off his shoulders.

There comes that pout, as if something is bothering you and you always ever pout like that when that something concerns him.

“You kidding me? I can never dislike you.”

The Jimin from six months ago would have stared at you with disbelief and a dust of pink on his cheeks. But the Jimin he is now simply smiles, heart thumping in his chest. He nods.

“Thanks for telling me that,” and Jimin knows that’s the closest to an ‘I like you’ he can get with the girl who builds an ice fortress around her heart.

A whole year passes by and Jimin finds himself in different shades of grey every day, working at his dad’s company and attending dinner meetings. Life comes to a standstill while time passes him by.

“So, like, you have a sports car, right? Why don’t you come over to the race circuit after dinner? Everyone’s gonna be there.”

Jeongguk tells him over the phone.

And by ‘everyone’ he means the sons and daughters in the corporate world. It’s networking at its finest.

When he’s there, three cars are already racing in the circuit. The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of tires screeching against asphalt isn’t exactly his favorite but they have cheap booze instead of fine wine and he knows the people here are in for the same thing as he is.

An escape.

Away from the grandeur of fine wine and dinner dresses and the elders breathing down their necks and having to act like the next heir to the legacy they were born to carry.

“That Chevrolet over there,” Jeongguk comes, hand on Jimin’s back as his other one that’s holding a bottle of beer points at a red car that looks like a racing fireball, “everyone’s betting on that one tonight.”

Jimin doesn’t know there’s a bet.

“I’ll skip the bet this time ‘round. Haven’t seen the driver yet,” he shrugs dismissively.

Even in stock investment, he’d learned to study the market first before placing his best bet.

Jeongguk leaves his side when his friends - he’s got new ones now - beckons him over. At the same time, the Chevrolet passes the finish line seconds before the Ford Mustang and McLaren 720s, making it the winner of the night.

The driver seems like a show off with the way the car rolls up to the audience, the sound of its engines revving into the night being met with cheers of half-drunk young adults.

Arrogance is a man’s downfall.

Jimin’s about to turn around and head for the exit when the door of the car gets pushed open. The driver steps out, decked in black and red leather jeans and jackets that seem to match the car.

But it’s the smooth, silken hair that cascades past the helmet that catches his eyes.

Park Jimin’s seen many arrogant men in his life but he’s only ever seen one woman with balls and looks good wearing them.

“___! ___! ___!” The crowd starts cheering as you pull off the helmet, holding it underneath your arm and waist.

Your eyes are as brilliant as the night sky full of stars. They’re tinged with shock and then recognition. And finally, you smile that gorgeous smile that gets you misunderstood often as a woman who doesn’t need anything or anyone but uses them as they come.

But Park Jimin knows better than anyone, how wholeheartedly happy that smile looks when you see him.

Like meeting a good friend after a long time.

Seven months down the road, Jimin finds himself with just a blanket draped over his waist while you’re taking a shower in his bathroom to get ready to head to Hong Kong for a business trip.

He hears the sound of the shower head being turned off. The tapping of your foot around his bedroom as you pick up your clothes that are strewn all over the floor.

Then the bed dips ever so gently under your weight as you climb over to him, the fresh scent of shower get filling his senses.  Lips press a deep, lingering kiss on his. As if you don’t want to go to a place where he won’t be.

A few socials and midnight races after his first meeting with you after a long time, you asked him if he’s seeing someone.

“If I say yes, what will you do?” It’s playful at first, because Jimin didn’t want to get himself hurt the second time.

But it’s the way you tilted your head, a finger tapping on your chin as you pondered on his words, “that’s a problem because I don’t want to be that girl that steals another girl’s man,” then you looked at him like you know he’s the one you want to wake up to every morning and the last face you see when you sleep at night and if you can’t have that. then-

“Can you be mine… just for tonight?”

“I don’t think I can.” The crestfallen expression you wear makes his own heart break, even if it’s just for a split second-

“Because I’m not seeing anyone but I’m in that point in life where I want a serious relationship or nothing at all.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is how he doesn’t want a relationship if it’s not with the girl who still haunts his dreams even after all this time.

Just like how you’d turned him down because you weren’t looking to be in a relationship before, you’d courted Jimin like you’d want to spend your whole life with him now.

Flowers got sent to his office everyday until it smells nothing short of floral. You’d be there, waving at him like he’s your savior in that dreadful social you were both attending. Every week, you’d plan dinner dates under the guise of catching up.

Before you race, you’d look over to where he’s standing, as if saying ‘this one’s for you’ before slipping into your car and coming out first every single time.

As if you were making up for every month of the year that you’d let life pass you by.

Now you’ve won a total of 36 races since he met you and the metal band you gifted him on the night of your 12th win feels warm against his skin. As if it’s absorbed all the love and adoration you poured into it.

And you’re wearing that ring he got you on your birthday on your finger that’s resting on his chest where his heart is as he kisses you back just as reluctant to let you leave.

But Park Jimin knows wherever you are, wherever you will be - you will always find your way back to each other.

Back home.

[solarwonux]

36. “I’m not naming our child after a book character, let alone from my least favorite book.” “Why not?”

37. “I think you’ve had enough to drink today.”

husband!joshua x f!reader

genre: fluff and a little bit of angst 

w.c: 2.1k

warnings: alcohol, drinking, hints at infertility, mentions of a surrogate, self doubt, hints at depression, mentions of therapy, brief mention of poly!gyuchan,  IVF treatment, suggestive, a cat named dog and a dog named cat, reader isn’t a fan of Shakespeare.

notes: this one’s a heavy one, but I wanted to challenge myself with this one. I did do some brief research as I was writing this one but I still could’ve gotten something wrong, so if I did let me. Either way, I’m grateful for those who read and please please please let me know your thoughts. Enjoy.xx

MASTERLIST || PROMPTS

Joshua threw his head back downing the shot of soju. His face twisted in displeasure, hissing at the bitter taste. He sets the glass down wiping his plump lips with the back of his hand before pointing a finger at you. 

“What about Elizabeth, like Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice?” Joshua asks, grabbing the green bottle of soju and pouring himself another shot. 

You cross your arms in front of your body and lean back against the dark navy booth. “Nope, try again.” 

Joshua let’s out a sound of annoyance before downing another shot. He doesn’t let the acrimonious taste settle in on his taste buds before he’s pouring himself another one and downing it. The two of you knew it was going to be a long night. Time was ticking, your surrogates due date was approaching and neither of you had picked out a name for your daughter. 

Truthfully, her name should’ve been chosen months ago. At least that’s what you and Joshua had planned during the first trimester of the pregnancy. But every time the topic came up, the two of you would end up frustrated and running back to the drawing board. You had names picked out, so did he. Neither one felt right. It also didn’t help that throughout the eight and a half months of the pregnancy a sense of guilt would wedge its way into your veins.

According to the many doctor’s you and Joshua consulted throughout the first year of your marriage. Your body wouldn’t be able to carry a child until full term. It had impacted you negatively. Your mental health was never up to par twenty four seven, but during that year - the year that was supposed to be filled with happy memories with your newly wedded husband; your mental health was at its worse. Memories that were supposed to be happy and colorful were black and white. You spent every waking moment dreaming about your child and feeling like a failure all at the same time. 

Joshua would hold you every time you cried out in agony. Each sob that came out of your lips would find its way and break his heart even further. He felt worthless not knowing what to do as he sat and watched the light get sucked out of you. He was hurting too, there wasn’t a doubt left in his head that he somehow shared your pain. But he couldn’t begin to imagine what it felt like to be told over and over again that your body will never be able to carry a child. So he held you and prayed for a miracle every night. He loved you more than anything in the world and although he found himself frustrated whenever you treated yourself like you were worthless or nothing. He made a promise to you in front of your family and his that through sickness and in health he will be by your side no matter what. 

The miracle came after four years. On New Year’s Eve of that first miserable year of marriage you told him you wanted to go to therapy, but only if he went too. He gladly agreed, eyes blown up in uncertainty but he didn’t fight you on your decision. Immediately he started researching for the best therapists in town, forgetting about the holiday party at Jun’s house. 

Slowly he saw you come back to yourself. The first time you smiled at him and laughed he cried tears of joy along with you. After almost two years of individual therapy with the newly added weekly couple therapy session, the two of you decided to research alternatives. Joshua was apprehensive, he feared he would lose you again, reassuring you that the two of you didn’t have to have kids in order to be a complete family. 

That just the two of you, your cat Inu and your dog Neko was enough. In which you agreed but one of your dreams was to bring a child into the world, to be a mother and you refused to have that taken away from you. So, he agreed after many weeks of convincing and a glittery powerpoint presentation. 

Mingyu, Chan and their wife didn’t want kids, frankly it wasn’t for them. But she didn’t hesitate to offer herself as a surrogate when she learned that you and Joshua were looking for one. It took another glittery powerpoint presentation from all three of them, this time to convince you to let them help you. So you did. Eight and a half months ago through an IVF treatment, one of your eggs and Joshua’s sperm were inside of her, healthily growing your child. Each doctor’s appointment you went to, the excitement inside of you grew. 

You stayed up with Joshua talking about how grateful you were that your baby girl was so loved and she hadn’t even taken her first breath yet. Mingyu and Chan showered her with gifts endlessly. A competition between the two of them to determine who would end up being her godfather. Not to mention her other ten uncle’s competing to see who would win the title of best uncle in the whole wide world. A contest that was to be held annually. Or so they claimed.

You were happy and so was Joshua but the only problem the two of you faced was that you didn’t have a name yet. And it stressed out Joshua to the point of no return, especially after you told him that it would be better to just wait until she was physically in the world. That her name would come to you, appearing out of thin air the moment you saw her for the first time. 

Joshua on the other hand disagreed. He lived paranoid ninety nine percent of the time and liked to be ready just in case something went wrong. He also didn’t want his daughter to be nameless and bean sprout wasn’t cutting it anymore. “Okay how about Ophelia, like from Hamlet.” He says with a hopeful dewey look in his eyes. 

You grab the bottle of soju and pour yourself a shot, downing it before slamming it down on top of the dark wooden table. “Absolutely not, I refuse. I’m not naming our child after a book character, let alone my least favorite book.”

Joshua ran a stressed hand across his face. He wanted this nightmare to end. No both of you wanted this nightmare to end. “It’s not a book, it's a play baby, you out of all people should know that.” He accused, grabbing an unopened bottle of soju and cracking the seal. “Mrs. Literature major.”

“Does it come with a front cover and a back cover and a bunch of pages in between?” You challenge cocking your head to the side, pushing your shot glass towards him. 

Joshua poured you a glass before setting the bottle down and placing his chin in the palm of his hands. A cocky drunk grin evident on his face. “Yes, but it started out as a performance not a book.” He mocks.

“I disagree. Shakespeare had to have written it down first in order to then show the actors. Therefore it’s still considered a book and my statement still stands. I’m not naming our child Ophelia.” You roll your eyes bringing the glass up to your lips, taking a small sip from it. You were finally starting to feel the weight of the alcohol. It was a given the two of you were five soju bottles (almost six) in and still hadn’t made any progress. 

“Why not?” He whines kicking his feet in the process, resembling a little kid who just got told that he couldn’t have cookies ‘n’ creme ice cream for dinner. “I like Ophelia, I think it’s cute.” 

“Because Ophelia drowns in the play, what if by naming our daughter that, we are instilling her an unfortunate faith?” You explain, drawing it out dramatically with your hands. 

“That’s ridiculous. Our daughter is protected not only by her guardian angels but also she has a whole football team on standby ready to beat the shit out of anyone that makes her cry.” Joshua states in a matter of fact tone while closing the half finished bottle of soju. He was finally starting to feel the effects and the two of you still needed to pay the bill and somehow make it home. 

You huff dipping your index finger into the half full shot glass and wetting the rim. “I read about it once.” You whisper. 

“Where?” He stands up holding onto the table and makes his way to your side, sitting down. “On those mommy blogs? The one’s I told you to stop reading because they don’t make you feel good about anything?”  His arm makes it away across your shoulders and pulls you close. 

You nod, leaning your head against his chest. “I’m just scared and I want everything to be perfect. I know that there’s nothing wrong with the decision we made but sometimes I still feel guilty that I wasn’t the one to carry her.” You sigh, lacing your fingers with his. “What if she doesn’t love me?” You cringe at how small your voice sounds. This is something your therapist and you had been working on for the past three weeks. Ever since you realized that the due date was approaching quickly. You’d gotten far but the doubt still lingered no matter how much you tried to push it away. 

Joshua leaves a gentle kiss against the crown of your head. “You’re her mom through and through and she’ll love you no matter what. Your body couldn’t grow her, the risk was too high and I didn’t want anything to happen to you or to her. But that doesn’t mean you were not enough. You have always been enough and you will be the best mom she could ever ask for.” 

Years ago when you had first met Joshua you knew you didn’t deserve him. He was everything you could ever ask for and more. Every time you found yourself drowning he was there with his hand plunged into the water ready to raise you up. He was your pillar whenever you needed someone or something to lean on. He was your voice of reason and your biggest supporter. And it wasn’t fair, because you would never be able to be that person to him. 

“I love you Joshua, thank you for never giving up on me.” You sit up, closing the small gap between the two of you and leaving a soft, delicate, alcohol filled kiss against his perfect lips. 

“I would never in a million think of doing that. Baby I swear I would cut off each of my limbs and feed them to birds if that thought were to ever cross my mind.” He smiles, pecking your lips repeatedly making you giggle. The sound made his heart soar. “I know you won’t believe me but you taught me what it’s like to love someone endlessly and unconditionally and that’s something I will spend my life thanking you for.” He says, thumbs caressing your cheeks before he hugs you close. 

“Stop making it impossible not to love you.” You laugh, circling your arms around his waist, burying your head into his chest. “I like Ophelia too, I’ll put it on the ‘maybe’ list.” His arms get tighter around, making it almost impossible for you to breathe. He wasn’t voicing his happiness, but you could only imagine the dumb smile he had on his face. 

After all, it was rare for you to admit defeat.

The two of you stayed there for a few more seconds before he brought his face down, stopping just above your ear. “Want to go to the bathroom and fuck,  live out our young adults fantasies once more before we become parents?” 

You pull away an incredulous look decorating your face. “Yup, I think you’ve had enough to drink. Let’s go home.” You stand up, grabbing your purse, pulling on his arm earning a wine from your husband. 

“Come on just once, please baby please.” He pleads and stands up, following you as you make your way to the front of the bar where the cash register usually was. 

“Absolutely not, I don’t want to be arrested for Adultery. We are about to become parents Joshua Hong!” 

He shrugs, circling his arm around your waist watching silently as you wait to pay. “It was worth a shot, what about when we get home?” He whispers into your ear leaving a teasing kiss against your chin. 

“We’ll see. Now behave.” 

“As you wish my lovely wife.”

[bangtanbetchfics]

friction | knj (m)

genre: office au, romance, smut rating: explicit // 18+ pairing: kim namjoon x reader word count: 7.0k suggested listening: 1 billion views - exo-sc | creme brulee - gfriend | underwater - baekhyun | playlist warnings: m/f, m/m, explicit language, explicit/casual sex, masturbation, enemies to lovers, light bondage, light dom/sub, sex toys summary: your pesky and overworked assistants meddle in your relationship with your sexy rival -- kim namjoon -- and find themselves caught in the crosshairs of love and all-out war. notes: enjoy enjoy enjoy! a true labor of love. navigation: ch. i | ch. ii | ch. iii | masterlist | ao3

FRIC·TION | conflict or animosity caused by a clash of wills, temperaments, or opinions.

Taehyung yawns, interlacing his fingers and pulling his arms above his head in a stretch. He moves his neck side-to-side until he hears a satisfying crack, indicating the adequate stretch of the muscle. He waits for his computer to finish powering down before clicking the lamp on his desk off.

Taehyung’s hand reaches for his coat, but he hesitates as he looks over at your office.

The blue glare seems to amplify your stressed expression and the mildly dark crescents under your eyes.

“Ma’am?”

Taehyung quietly raps at the glass door to your office and it startles you from your concentration.

“Hmm...yes, Tae?”

You respond, mildly annoyed, as you pull a neon post-it note from its pad to stick to the desk.

Taehyung looks at you, his eyes forming wide circles as if he's ready to convince you of something. You can immediately sense his question before you exhale through your nose.

“It’s just that it’s getting late and I-” Taehyung starts, wrapping a hand around the glass doorframe.

You shake yourself out of your funk and look at him fondly, your brows coming together in compassion.

Before your mouth can form a response, the phone at Taehyung’s desk rings. 

He gives you a small bow to pardon him before he jogs to his desk to pick up the phone.

“Yes, Sir. Yes, yes. Yes, yes, yes. Of course, Mr. Min,” Taehyung looks at you a few times, pointing at the phone. “I’ll send her right up.”

Taehyung's eyes widen at you before hanging up the phone.

You come to the threshold of your office, leaning your head on the frame.

“Was it Min?” You ask, and Taehyung nods in response. 

“He wants to see you immediately. Didn’t specify what it was for.” 

You chew at your lip and then dig in your pocket, tossing him your corporate card.

“I’m so sorry, Tae. Do you mind staying until I come back? There’s just a lot going on this week with the product launch, and I’m sure he’ll add more to my plate,” Taehyung puts his hand up and shakes it.

“Of course. Anything you need.” He responds, slipping the plastic card in his pocket.

“Thank you.” You whisper, your hands in a prayer. He bows as his eyes watch you walk off.

Taehyung rolls his chair up to his desk, and he hits a few digits on the dialpad.

“Gonna be another long one,” Taehyung sighs out into the receiver.

“Same here Tete,” The singsong voice responds, equally as disappointed.

“I should have your cock in my mouth right now, but I’m here ordering takeout for the third time this week,” The voice whines.

“Jimin!” Taehyung growls into the phone, but the sound quickly dissolves into a laugh.

“What’s so funny? It’s not good for my figure,” Taehyung can tell there’s a pout in Jimin’s voice.

“Especially my ass.” Jimin continues, the pout growing deeper.

“I love your ass. Shutup.” Taehyung chuckles. “You said you’re stuck here late too?”

“Yeah. I know the product launch is coming, but Joon never stops working.” Jimin whines. “He got called upstairs by Min a few seconds ago.” Taehyung gasps and sits up in his chair, rolling it closer to his desk.

“Hmm…” Taehyung hums. He places his elbows on the surface, using his free hand to ruffle his silver locks.

“What? You sound interested.” Jimin inquires, and Taehyung drums the desk with his fingers.

“My boss did too.”

✹✹✹

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The slow ticking of the clock snips through your veins. You press the nail of your index finger into the flesh of your thumb, creating a small crescent-shaped indent in your skin. 

You feel your heart picking up pace in your chest; steady thumps beating at your ribcage. You turn your hand around to stare at the indentation on your skin, waiting for it to vanish. It does, slowly.

You look at your boss through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of his office, his mouth busy moving in response to someone on the other end of the phone’s receiver. His hair is a textured bowl of platinum blonde, and his long, bony fingers move through a mass of papers on his desk.

You’re unsure of why you’ve been summoned; Yoongi never summoned anyone to his office unless it was serious. Being two days out from a product launch with you at the marketing helm...well, that was never a good sign.

After a moment, heavy, confident footsteps echo through the hall.

You see a man -- all legs in his dark, smartly tailored pants -- and he immediately diverts attention from your buzzing thoughts. His aura fills the entire space, and you sit up straight in your chair.

The man’s long wool trench coat brushes at his ankles, the black fabric stiff at the tips of his shoulders. He shrugs the coat off and carefully folds it in half, placing it on the chair behind him.

He suddenly feels your eyes on him from across the room, and his sharp gaze snaps over to meet yours. His eyes crinkle at the edges, and he extends his hand across the coffee table between the two of you.

“Kim Namjoon. I’m guessing you don’t know why you’re here either?” His voice comes out in a dark, velvety tone, catching you off guard. Your eyes can't help but fix on his as you shake his hand.

“Not a clue,” You respond coolly, and the dimples in his cheeks make themselves known.

You clear your throat as his eyes hang onto yours in return, and you feel your lips subtly part. Snapping yourself from his aura, you quickly release his hand and look around the room to find something else to concentrate on.

“Guess we’ll find out...” Namjoon shrugs, sliding back in his seat. You offer him a nod in response, nervously swallowing the exchange down your throat.

You then cross your legs, pretending to be busy on your phone. 

After processing the interaction, Namjoon licks the inside of his cheek -- his head hanging down in a mild defeat for a second. He reaches into his pocket to pull out a tattered copy of The Art of Loving.

As he reads, your eyes peel from your phone and notice the way his turtleneck hugs his form, the dark fabric dipping in at the valley between his firm chest. A few lavender-tinted hairs slide from Namjoon’s slicked back style into his dark brown eyes, and his smokey gaze suddenly rises up to meet yours.

Fuck. He’s caught you.

Your eyes widen in a few seconds of brief panic and dart back down to your phone. You move your thumb around through the pages of apps; it’s all you can manage so suddenly.

Namjoon smiles to himself as he looks back down, quietly dipping a finger to his tongue to stick to a page of his book. 

Before he’s able to turn the page, Yoongi pops his head from the office.

“You ready?” Yoongi asks, turning his head in your direction.

You nod and watch Yoongi shuffle back to his desk.

You inhale and smooth your skirt as you stand, noticing Namjoon’s eyes following your fingers as they glide over the red fabric adorning your curves. He calmly looks back down and blushes as you catch him; his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously as he pretends to continue on with his book.

“Wish me luck,” You notice the way his gaze lit something sexual afire in you, but you couldn’t pay any attention to that right now. “Nice meeting you.” 

Namjoon looks up at you again, his fingers tense on the pages of the book.

“Likewise.” Namjoon’s smouldering eyes are fixed on you as he responds, and his gaze continues to follow you into Yoongi’s office.

You reach a chair across from Yoongi’s desk, sneaking a glance at Namjoon one last time over your shoulder.

Namjoon exhales the tension from his body as he watches you take a seat.

✹✹✹

You sit in the chair across from Yoongi’s desk, admiring the glittering cityscape behind him.

“I love being in here. It’s so refreshing.” You sigh, your eyes floating back to Yoongi.

“Yeah, kid? Well, it could be yours soon,” He chuckles. “I’m actually sick of looking at it. I’m ready to move onto my next venture.” Yoongi says this as if he’s in his forties, but he’s the youngest CEO in the vicinity. It's indicated by a giant, framed magazine cover of himself on a wall in his office: Top 30 Under 30 in Technology.

“C-Come again?” You murmur as you’re taken by surprise, and you sit up in your seat.

“You heard me. I want either you -- the CMO -- or Kim, the CTO running things," Yoongi says, standing up. He calls you over with his finger, motioning for you to sit in his chair. "Either of you are my best shot.”

You plop down in the cushy leather fabric, and your eyes meet Namjoon’s again. You purse your lips together and swirl the chair around to face the cityscape.

“How’s that feel?” Yoongi asks as he adjusts his cream turtleneck.

“Damn good.” You growl, your nails digging into the armrests.

“Well, there’s no reward without risk,” He says, and you raise your head in interest. 

“Try me, Min.” You demand as you cross your legs, leaning back in the chair.

“I want you to launch the product in my place at TechX this week.” He mentions casually, and you shriek in response as you shoot up from your seat.

“You can’t be serious, Min!” You throw your hands on your hips. “Isn’t that in two days? In Vegas? And like, the largest product launch ever for this company? ” You inquire, looking over at Yoongi.

“See! You understand the gravity of this launch. And yeah, and I haven’t even finished the keynote yet,” Yoongi cackles, slapping his thigh. “Partner with Kim on the presentation. It’s in front of twenty-thousand too, so make it good.” He sits down, racking away at the keys on his laptop. 

“You and Kim are both equally matched in terms of qualifications, so whoever can secure the biggest investors to ensure the longevity of the company will get a leg up in interviewing for the position.” Yoongi continues nonchalantly.

“Got it?” He taps one last key, stopping only to look up at you.

“Yes, Sir.” You nod, feeling a tightness creep into your chest.

✹✹✹

“Jimin, can you book my accommodations, please?” 

Jimin hands Namjoon a bag of takeout before he rolls his chair up to his desk. 

“Vegas, leaving tomorrow. Business class. King bed. That hotel that’s hosting the conference. You know the deal.” He rattles out, taking the bag of food. 

“Of course, Sir.” Jimin nods, watching Namjoon walk into his office.

Jimin navigates through a few windows on his screen before settling on a corporate travel portal. He’s able to book the flight without a problem, but the hotel is where he’s running into issues. He quickly dials up Taehyung, waiting for the other side of the call to pick up.

“Are you seeing the same thing?” Jimin asks, and Taehyung clicks his tongue.

“No rooms, right-” Jimin starts. “Just one left…” Taehyung cuts in to finish his sentence.

“But shit, there’s your boss and my boss.” Jimin twirls his finger around the coiled cord, pondering what to do next.

Jimin hears a eureka snap on the other end of the line.

“Crazy ass idea here, Jiminie,” Taehyung chuckles. 

"What is it Taehyungie?" Jimin purrs out, the curiosity rising in his voice at the end of the question.

“What if...they just stayed in the same room together? There’s only one King room available, and it’s the last room in the hotel. They’re both so...particular.” Taehyung continues, pressing his mouth into the receiver to keep his voice low.

Jimin throws his head back so far in laughter that his chair tips over. Taehyung hears a crash on the other end of the line, and hears shuffling noises as Jimin gets back up.

“Fell off your chair again?”

“Y-Yeah. God you're a genius! An evil one,” Jimin gathers his breaths. 

“I mean...she’s fucking hot. And she’s single as fuck because she’s holed up here every night.” Taehyung whispers into the receiver, making sure to glance over to check that you’re immersed in work.

“And Joon’s smoking hot, too. He’d melt her icy panties right off,” Jimin clicks his tongue before he slaps his desk.

“Dammit, we’re doing it. Think about it. Off work by five? What a world.” Jimin chirps, clicking away at his screen. “To add an extra layer of fun, I’m checking the romance option.”

“Jimin! Jimin. They’re gonna kill each other.” Taehyung giggles, gasping to catch his breath.

“Either they share a room and let romance bloom, or its whack-a-roach at the Motel 6.” Jimin’s tone is confident, but it makes Taehyung erupt into another fit of laughter.

“What? What’s the worst that could happen?” Jimin commands a response, but Taehyung continues to laugh.

“Mmm...we lose our fucking jobs?” Taehyung responds darkly.

The two pause for a second, but continue laughing into their phones.

✹✹✹

“What’re the topline details for the trip, Tae?” You ask, sliding on your sunglasses and pulling a handle up on your hardside luggage.

“Your flight...as you know is in three hours, and your car’s outside right now.” Taehyung walks up to you, handing you an iPad with a copy of your itinerary. “You’ll be staying at the Palazzo where the conference is held, and check-in should be getting started as soon as you arrive.”

“Mwah. You’re the fucking best,” You chef’s kiss your fingers. “This is exactly why I hired you.”

You pull your luggage behind you, but Taehyung puts his hand up. 

“Try not to get too excited. Please note that the room I was able to secure for you was the last room at the hotel two days before a conference of this size,” Taehyung says, pulling his hands behind his back.

“Okay...your point being?” You ask, pulling your sunglasses down to look into Taehyung’s eyes.

“Uhm, so, how do I put this?” Taehyung asks himself rhetorically, drawing his foot across the floor nervously.

“Tae...” You growl, your gaze slowly turning into a glare.

“Erm, you’ll have to share the room,” He starts. 

“With Kim Namjoon.” He winces as he gets the words out.

Your mouth drops open in shock, and your iPad crashes to the floor.

✹✹✹

You peruse through a luxurious spread of food in the airport lounge: crabsticks with melted butter drizzling from them, exotic finger sandwiches, spreads and dips and the like. You grab tongs, dropping a few items onto a small plate. You quickly look through the drinks on display and decide on sparkling water. 

Suddenly, you spot Namjoon arriving in the lounge and you quickly tuck the bottle of sparkling water into your armpit. You grab your plates, quickly followed by your luggage and make a mad dash for a secluded cubby in the back area.

You quickly throw on your headphones and prop up your iPad as you swipe through a few documents. 

Just as you stuff a crabstick in your mouth, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You look at the fingers, then up the veined arm wrapped with white cotton fabric, and you see Namjoon.

He licks his lips, letting out a shy chuckle just before he speaks.

“Did you really just try to avoid me?”

“Mm-maybh, ‘nd wh-r about it?” You blink at him, your words unintelligible as you slowly chew a mouthful of seafood. You furrow your brows, slightly irked by Namjoon seeing you in this state.

“I’m sure those two jokesters told you,” He continues, and you shrug as you delicately bite a small cucumber and cream cheese sandwich. “That you’ll be my roommate for the next two days.”

“I didn’t hear it, and I won’t acknowledge it,” You retort, dropping the last bite of the sandwich in your mouth. “I’m going to find another room if it’s the last thing I do.” You dust crumbs from your hands but stop as Namjoon lets out another light chuckle.

“There aren’t anymore in the whole of Vegas. I checked myself. The only other hotel left in town is the Trump Tower,” He crosses his arms and then shakes his head. “And no one wants to be caught dead there.”

“Fuck!” You can’t help but scream out, and a few people turn to look in your direction. You bury your head in your hands, and comb your hands through your hair in frustration.

Namjoon taps your shoulder again and you look up.

“Finger sandwich?” He asks, licking a finger as you glare up at him.

✹✹✹

A flight attendant walks by the two of you to do a visual safety check, and you’re in the middle seat -- Namjoon in the aisle. 

“Champagne? Champagne? Water?” Another attendant walks by with a tray full of alcoholic beverages. You spot her, reaching over Namjoon to grab a drink off the tray. She lets out a gasp, shock entangling her features. 

The beverage quickly makes its way down your throat, and you slam the plastic cup back on the tray. 

“Sorry. She’s not having the best of days,” Namjoon whispers to her and finishes his off as well, handing it to the attendant. She scoffs, continuing on down the aisle.

You shuffle your hand in your bag to locate your iPad, slipping it from its sleeve. As you look at the screen you sigh, your eyes roving over the deep cracks.

“Please turn all devices to airplane mode as we prepare for departure…”

The plane starts to rattle over the tarmac, turning to face a new direction every so often.

“What the heck happened to that thing?” Namjoon asks, leaning over to look at the fractured device.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” You respond without looking at him. You swipe through a screen of apps before clicking into Keynote. “I scanned through the presentation, and Yoongi was nowhere near done. We’ll need to wrap up by tomorrow evening.”

“We’ll also need to submit some requests to the photographer and Design team so that the remaining graphics and specs will be ready by the time we land in six hours…”

Namjoon nods, watching as you swipe through the slides, breezing through improvements for each. Your words seem to fade out, and he finds himself enamored by your gung-ho nature as he watches you speak.

“Got it?” You ask and notice Namjoon is silent, causing you to turn your head in his direction.

You search his eyes for a response, noticing his pupils are blown as he looks at you. He covers his throat so as to not give away the unexpected heat rising up his skin.

“Sure thing. I’ll have the Product team get right on all of that,” Namjoon responds before he looks down to type an email into his phone.

You look back down at your iPad, nibbling at the inside of your lip as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

You take a second to press your head back to the seat as the plane takes off.

Namjoon reaches below the seat in front of him and pulls out his iPad to begin typing information into the slides. He glances over at you furiously typing and swiping before you grimace.

“Ow, fff-” You growl, looking at your index finger. 

Blood starts to pool in a small cut, and Namjoon takes notice. You look over at him and watch him reach into his bag to pull out a travel-sized first aid kit. He takes out a small alcohol wipe and grabs your finger, pinching the towelette to it. You wince, sucking air in through your teeth.

“You should really get that fixed.” He says as he takes a small bandaid and covers the cut.

“Uhm, I will. Thank you.” You say quietly as you search his eyes, and then tuck your hair behind your ear again. 

You break eye contact with him as your heart starts to patter in your chest...and fuck. You know you're in trouble from here on out.

Namjoon chuckles to himself through his nose as he takes a world newspaper from an attendant.

The newspaper covers his face and you sneak to observe your finger -- trying to not let a smile curl up on the edges of your lips.

✹✹✹

“Checking in?”

A woman asks you in a singsong voice and you nod, motioning for Namjoon to give you his identification card. 

You're tired, hungry and irritable from the flight and certainly not willing to engage with this ultra-chipper woman right now.

“Ugh, beautiful! How long have you two been together?” She asks, smiling as she looks at the two of you.

“We’re not a couple and we’ve only just met, why do you ask?” You inquire, swiping through a few things on a digital screen anchored to the desk in front of you.

“Oh...you’re not?” You stop what you’re doing and look up at her. “No. We’re here for the TechX conference.”

The woman releases a nervous breath from her throat and readjusts her blouse.

“Well...oh my, the room I have booked for the two of you is one of our most romantic rooms.” She giggles out nervously, not sure what to do as she hands you a sleeve of keycards.

“I’m gonna fucking kill Taehyung when I get back,” You grumble, taking your credit card and the sleeve before you march off toward the elevator.

The elevator lobby is packed, and both you and Namjoon slip into a crowded elevator.

You find yourself suddenly sandwiched between the back of a woman and the front of Namjoon, and you tighten your muscles so you don’t make bodily contact with either of them.

The elevator jerks as it reaches the floor before yours, and Namjoon collapses over you. He looks down at you as his hands land to press on the wall on either side of your head as he holds himself up.

“God, sorry,” He groans as he waits for other people to exit before he can steadily stand on his own two feet. Your eyes grow wide as you look up at him, a prickly heat creeping up your throat. His face is so close to yours from the fall that you can feel his breaths on your skin. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, looking over at you as he’s able to stand up straight.

Namjoon thinks nothing of the brief moment, but you gulp and give him a silent nod.

“This is us.” He says before he clears the way, watching you walk out in front of him.

✹✹✹

As you enter the room, you hear smooth jazz floating from a digital radio.

You drop to your knees: you see rose petals on the bed, a bucket with ice and champagne, a towel swan and a bouquet of additional roses wrapped with packages of chocolate. You drop your head into your hands and laugh out loud, and Namjoon looks down at you. His eyes quickly scan the room and he lets out a screech before he covers his stomach to laugh.

“I-I s-swear we were set up,” You gasp for air through your laughs. “God.”

“The wall between the shower and our room is frosted. Frosted!” Namjoon yells as he waves his hand through it to show you as you approach. 

You both can’t help but giggle.

“God. I haven’t laughed that hard in so long,” You mention, swiping a tear hanging on at the edge of your eye. Namjoon smiles, his dimples lighting up his face.

There’s a sudden silence as your eyes meet, and you try to find something to busy yourself with -- deciding on unraveling the towel swan.

“Anyway, I’m gonna shower. We can just relax for now as we wait for everything to come in.” You quickly open your luggage and pull out a swimsuit and a cover up before heading into the bathroom.

“And oh. Please be an adult...no peeking?” You raise your brows as you pop your head from the bathroom. 

Namjoon nods in agreement, beginning to unpack his luggage. He grabs his clothes nonchalantly to head to a nearby drawer, but he unintentionally catches your silhouette in the shower.

Namjoon gulps as he feels a tightness growing in his jeans. He clears his throat, continuing on with placing his clothes into the drawer.

✹✹✹

“Okay, okay, yes. I’m so sorry. It was the best we could do under the circumstances, and yes-” Taehyung nods his head as Jimin takes another bite of a sushi roll.

“Oof, was that her?” Jimin asks, swiping his mouth with a napkin. 

“God, yeah. She’s pissed. And she yelled. She never yells at me, Jiminie.” Taehyung pouts.

Jimin laughs as he throws his head back, rubbing Taehyung’s back.

“Don’t worry Taehyungie,” He giggles. “I’m sure they’ll thank us soon enough.”

Taheyung smiles at him and opens his mouth to receive one of the rolls on his tongue.

The two giggle as they look at each other, mouths full.

✹✹✹

You swim in the Olympic-sized pool at the hotel before you pop up from underneath. 

A hand runs through your hair to smooth it on your head before you start to float on your back. The intense rays of the sun start to heat up your skin, but you nearly moan at how good it feels.

Namjoon settles down in a lounge chair before he sees you with your eyes closed on the water. 

You only have on a swimsuit, but in a man’s mind it was the near-equivalent of seeing you in your underwear. 

Namjoon attempts to sneak away before you can spot him, but your eyes open just as he does.

“Hey! Kim Namjoon! Is that you?” You shout, paddling up to the edge of the pool. He grimaces and meets you at the edge, looking down at you.

“Did you really just try to avoid me?” You throw his question from earlier back at him, smirking.

“What? No.” Namjoon scoffs and clenches his jaw -- a bit delighted, a bit turned on.

You tilt your head and raise your eyebrows, still awaiting a real answer. His thoughts are still racing for a clever response and you can tell he’s caught off-guard.

You emerge from the water, toweling your hair and body. His eyes widen as he tries to keep them focused on your face, and you smirk at him again. 

"Cat got your tongue?" You tease, wringing out your hair.

The devilish look in your eyes shoots straight to his water trunks and he presses his legs together. He quickly wraps the towel in his hand around his waist to cover himself before you detect anything, and your eyes follow his movements.

“Uhm, you know what...I don’t feel too well,” His voice trembles. “I’m gonna go back to the room.”

Namjoon takes off in a hurry, and you scoff as your brows come together in confusion.

✹✹✹

Namjoon lets out a few strained moans as he tugs at cock -- now rock hard and bulging with thick veins. His eyes squeeze shut as you come into memory, and he attempts to regulate his arousal through deep, frantic exhales. 

The way the sun was kissing your body, the movement of the water as it drizzled down into the valley between your breasts, the smirk and banter that lit his desire alight. He gasps as he strokes his cock faster, his grip growing firmer by the second. He feels his balls tighten, his cock growing stiffer with lust. 

He growls as he nears cumming, taking a moment to spit on in his hand and spread it generously over his shaft. He jerks his cock as fast as he can, his wrist snapping in different directions to switch up the sensation of his movements. He bucks into his hand at the last few moments, wondering what it’d be like to have you atop his cock instead. 

Namjoon cries out before his cock hardens, his thick load pulsing in random patterns across his chest. 

"Fuck," He suddenly hears footsteps floating down the hall and he swiftly pulls his trunks up.

He grabs a few tissues from the night table to quickly wipe himself off.

“Namjoon? I’m back,” You announce as you open the door. “The pool’s great, you can’t miss it.”

You enter and he tosses the tissues to the ground.

You observe that Namjoon’s form is rigid and that he’s sitting up on the bed as he scrolls through his phone. Something’s weird and quiet about the energy in the room, but you just shrug it off.

“Hey.” His tone is stoic, but you can sense his voice is caught in his throat before he clears it.

“Should we close out the final pieces of the presentation tonight?” Namjoon continues, his eyes now following you as you walk around the room.

“Sure thing, eight sound good?” You ask, smiling in his direction.

All he can do is look at you with his eyes wide and nod.

✹✹✹

“How’d you find this place?” You ask, picking up one of the books stacked on the table for display.

The rest of the bar is almost like a library -- straight from Beauty and the Beast. You look up and around as bookshelves from every angle are filled with books.

"Your drinks." A waiter arrives, carefully placing each drink on the table.

"I like to wander and I stumbled upon it. I frequent here when I come to Vegas," Namjoon smiles at you, satisfied with himself. "It's a nice place to unwind and get work done outside of the hotel." You nod, impressed with his response.

"I love all of the giant KAWS figurines here, too," You mention, and he turns his head to look at you. "The valuation on those in a few years is gonna be insane."

"Oh, you like art, too?" He tries to hide the gush in his voice, but you chuckle to yourself.

"Sure do." You reply, taking a few small sips from your cup as you look at him.

As Namjoon sips at his Jameson whiskey on the rocks, you can't help but absorb his carefully slicked back hair and the leather jacket on his frame.

Namjoon notices from his peripheral and bites his lip as subtly as he can, drawing his iPad from his briefcase.

After a few minutes, he looks up from what he's typing to see you've already downed half of your drink. You drop the cup from your lips and your eyes grow wide with embarrassment.

"God, sorry, please don't judge me," You chuckle as you peel the drink from your mouth and lick your lips. "They only have good French Martinis in two places in the world. Vegas, and Europe."

Namjoon chuckles back at you, and you notice his eyes float down to your lips. 

Your breath quickens for a second, but he breaks eye contact by looking down. He purses his lips and his dimples pop out before he looks at you through his lashes.

"You've got a little something..." He motions at the foam on your upper lip, and you attempt to swipe it with your tongue. He shakes his head a few times as you continue licking your lips to no avail.

"May I?" He asks warmly. With a nod from you, he takes a miniature napkin to wipe your top lip. He's so close that you can smell the spice of his cologne, and you look into his eyes. 

A slight panic forms in his gaze before he pulls back.

“There.” He says without looking at you, placing the napkin on the table.

Both of you shake the interaction off, and you reach into your bag to pull out your iPad.

"I had Taehyung drop in the graphics. All we have to do is finish up the text," You say as you start to type, and Namjoon brings his focus back to his slides.

"Got it. I had Jimin drop in the brief outline he retrieved from the Product Lead, so we can just work from that as we go along." Namjoon chimes in, and you nod.

"I'll activate the full social strategy and content team back at the office," You continue as you type. "I'll let them know that we're almost locked so they can get ready to fire up the site and social promotions."

Namjoon smiles to himself again, absorbing the incredible synergy between the two of you. It only pushes him harder...and makes him harder. He clenches his jaw as he feels the sensation filling his lower half, but he shakes his leg to stay focused.

"Is there something wrong?" You ask, looking down at his leg.

"Hmm?" He asks, not even noticing his leg still moving. 

"Oh!" He says looking down and stretching his foot out, but it bumps yours instead.

"Fuck. Sorry!" He yelps. You chortle, continuing on with writing. 

You look at him for a bit through your peripheral, admiring his absolute focus on the task at hand. He picks up a pen to draw it around his plump lips, and you can't help but feel a twinge between your thighs. You inhale and let out a breath to take your focus off the sensation.

Just as you do, a crackle of thunder rips through the air and a few customers gasp and break into a din. 

You and Namjoon look at each other, and a few flashes of lightning light up each of your features in the dim bar.

"We should get going before it rains," Namjoon says as he starts to pack his bag. "We can finish this up at the hotel." 

You follow suit.

✹✹✹

As the two of you walk outside, the rain begins to trickle. Despite the warm Vegas air from earlier, the temperature significantly dropped in the evening and it made you shiver.

Namjoon notices, and despite him being cold -- he drops his coat on your shoulders.

"Oh. Please don't do that on my behalf." You say as you look up at him, but he keeps walking.

You couldn't worry long, noticing as raindrops begin to soak Namjoon's white tee.

"Just up here," He looks down at you and points at the hotel, but it suddenly starts to pour. He grabs your hand to quickly pull you across the street before the light changes, and you pull his jacket over your head.

Namjoon doesn't stop running until the two of you land in an empty elevator. He sighs, slicking his wet hair back with a hand. You notice that his shirt is soaked, seeping into the grooves of his firm chest and abdomen.

You arrive at the door to your room, nervously shuffling in your bag for your keycard. You can feel Namjoon's warm breath at the back of your neck, and you feel goosebumps form on your skin.

"Here." He says, reaching around you to insert his key. You feel as his body heat radiates around you as you walk through the door.

As you enter the room you shiver at the blast of air conditioning -- pulling Namjoon's coat further over your shoulders.

Namjoon returns from the bathroom with a towel, and removes his jacket from your frame. 

“Sorry, it’s totally my fault for suggesting a place so far away,” He wraps the warm fluffy towel over your shoulders, and you close your eyes in comfort.

"No, it was really fun," You open your eyes after a few seconds, shaking your head as you look up at him.

Namjoon almost looks away as you open your eyes, but his gaze fixates on yours -- causing you to lose the breath in your throat as you quickly look down.

"Thank you." Your voice only manages to come out in a whisper. You somehow get the courage to let your eyes scan his body, and then look back up to meet him still looking down at you.

Namjoon’s chest lightly rises and falls as neither of you break eye contact -- his eyes floating to your lips. He tucks your hair behind your ear, and your breath catches in your throat. His thumb moves to trace over your jawline and your bottom lip as he moves in to hover his lips over yours.

The air buzzes with a sparkling heat as your lips brush together -- neither of you wanting to be the first to make a move.

“We shouldn’t do this, right?” He whispers, the tip of his nose grazing over yours.

"No..." You whisper back, a bated desire in your voice. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” You give him a slow nod, drawing your bottom lip in-between your teeth.

You lick your lips and he tilts your head to the side, his own lips inside the shell of your ear before he speaks.

“That red dress...from yesterday? It was all I could think about for the rest of the night.” The deep vibrations from his voice causes you to let out a satisfied moan as you tilt your head back.

“Does that turn you on?” He asks, his hands sliding down your body to grip your hips.

A heated lust overcomes you, and you let your lips feverishly embrace his. Your hands roam up his wet body and land over his shoulders before you pull him closer to you by the back of his neck. The momentum dizzies you both and your back slams into the wall.

His hands move to your waist as he covers you, pulling you flush against his hard, wet body. It causes your lips to part, and he slips his searing tongue into your mouth. You easily lose the upper hand as he grips your ass, causing you to let out a whine into his mouth. His plush lips kiss at your neck, and you run your hands through his damp hair as his kisses reach your collarbones.

Namjoon moves to wipe all of the items off a cabinet near you, and the chocolate and roses crash to the floor. He throws you on top of the surface, his lips eagerly gliding over yours.

Namjoon's hands roam up your dress and on the outside of your thighs as his fingers tuck under the top of the fabric of your underwear. He tugs at the fabric as if he's going to remove it, but he jerks it up hard instead -- soothing the growing ache between your thighs. He twists the fabric in a bunch so he can keep pulling at it in intervals to soothe your clit.

Your head falls back in desperation and he takes the opportunity to suck a hickey into the exposed skin. He nibbles at the skin harder and you gasp, gripping the back of his mullet.

Namjoon growls into your ear as you pull his hair, and yanks your underwear down each of your thighs.

Just as he does, he feels his wrist buzz. He pulls from your lips to look at his watch.

[Assistant: Park Jimin.]

Namjoon lets out a long exhale through his nose. He rests his forehead on yours, both of your lips still swollen and vibrating from the session.

"I have to take this," He lets out in a deep exhale before touching a green icon on his watch to receive the call.

"Are you alright, Sir?" Jimin asks, hearing Namjoon’s intense breaths cooling on his end.

"Just came from the gym, don't worry about me. What’s on fire?" He breathes out, and the edges of your lips curl upward at the lie.

"Nothing at all, Sir. I've just called to give your daily rundown as requested." Namjoon sighs, forgetting it’s something he did in fact ask for.

“Can I call you back in five?” Namjoon asks, and you shake your head.

After Jimin hangs up, Namjoon immediately dives back into your lips. You savor it for a few seconds, but you tease him a few times as you pull away.

"I think we should finish up in the morning and get to bed," You whisper, your hand floating down his cheek. "Long day tomorrow." You bite your lip as you look into his eyes.

Namjoon lightly growls in disappointment as he pulls you down from the top of the cabinet.

You lift your hair up into a ponytail, and you turn around and look over your shoulder.

“Mind helping me with the zip?” You ask, and you feel the heat from his breath at the back of your neck drawing goosebumps from your skin. His breaths shallow out with every inch of the zip, and he lets out a light groan as it ends at the curve of your back -- just before your ass.

“Thanks.” You whisper as you head toward the bathroom, looking over your shoulder once more with a grin before you disappear around the corner.

Namjoon waits to make sure you’re gone before he screams into his fist out of frustration.

✹✹✹

“Seeya, I’m gonna head over to the conference hall to start getting prepped,” Namjoon mentions, stuffing a croissant in his mouth as he picks up his briefcase. “You said you’ll be a few minutes behind me, right?” He asks, using his free hand to push his glasses up his nose.

“Uhm, sure! Yes! Yesyesyesyes. Have a nice day!” You nod eagerly, your eyes wide as you watch him head toward the door. He furrows his brows, finding you a bit too enthusiastic.

As the door shuts, you hear his footfalls disappear down the hall and you toss your robe to the ground.

You take in a deep inhale. You knew you needed to be focused for this presentation, and you definitely couldn't have what happened last night top of mind.

Where to start? Him eyeing you in the office? The wet t-shirt? Oh, yes. There.

You sink down in the bed and slowly spread your legs, your fingers gliding over your already wet lips. You gasp in pleasure as you recall his plump lips dragging on your neck -- his teeth embedded in the sensitive flesh. It’s enough for you to dip a finger inside of yourself -- make it two -- before you let out a moan.

The thing that really made you wet, though, was his mind. The fucking book bar? Kudos. His knowledge of the product? Points. A tattered copy of a book about love? You were practically dripping down your thighs at the thought. Those nerdy glasses he wore before he left this morning? Fuck me.

It’s all enough to make you cum until-

Bzz. Beep.

You quickly draw the covers up on your frame and you can feel your cheeks burning as Namjoon enters the room.

“I...left my coffee...” He says cautiously, seeing your robe on the floor before his eyes meet yours. “Uhm, sorry?” His voice comes out in a high, questioning pitch -- and he grabs his coffee before he hurries himself out the door.

As the door shuts, you kick your feet around in the bed and then slap your forehead.

Fuck. He caught you.

[therenlover]

Brutal (A Demon!Daniel Bruhl x Starlet!Reader Ficlet)

(So, this is the first little ficlet in my Sour series, which can be found HERE! I hope you enjoy it! Also, enjoy blurry Checo, because he’s who @creme-bruhlee and I imagine as demon!Daniel)

“And I'm so tired that I might / Quit my job, start a new life / And they'd all be so disappointed / 'Cause who am I if not exploited?”

Synopsis: A crime of passion accidentally summons a handsome demon who offers to make your deepest desires come true... for a price, of course. 

Rating; M (16+)

Warnings: Vague Allusions to Past Dubcon/Noncon, Explicit Language, Implied Sexual Content, Non-Explicit Murder, Making A Deal With A Demon, Maybe A Tiny Bit Of Monsterfucking???? If You Squint??? Not Really Though

Word Count: 1500~

-------

“What is it that you desire?”

The man- no, creature- before you was shrouded in the darkest corner of your dressing room, perched languidly upon the chaise lounge that had been oh so kindly included in the rider of your contract by whatever filthy fucker decided they wanted to have you this time. He didn’t matter now, though. No, not now that his brains were splattered against the carpet. The only thing that mattered anymore was the creature in the corner. 

Even in the darkness, you could see its razor-sharp teeth glinting in the low light. 

Trembling with unused adrenaline, you smiled back at it, hands still covered in blood. “I’m not answering that until you answer a few questions of my own,” 

Surprisingly, the thing seemed to lean further back into its plush seat as it nodded, long pointed tail undulating slowly, like a python preparing to strike. “Very well. It makes no difference to me how long you draw out our little deal,” slowly, the thing chuckled, “Besides, for you, pretty one, I’d wait all the time in the world,” 

You groaned at his exaggerated wink. 

Still, it was too late to turn back now. With the blood on your hands for the death of the man at your feet, both physically and metaphorically, there was nowhere to go but forward. Maybe making a deal with the devil wasn’t your original plan, but it sure as hell was better than prison. With a sigh, you sat down heavily into your high-backed makeup chair. 

“So I’m assuming you’re a demon?”

The creature in the corner made some sort of deep, proud noise in its chest as its two, shadowy hands came up to stroke its curved horns, much like a goat’s, with a certain puff-chested reverence. Even while beholding it in that darkness, its features shrouded in black, there was an allure to the strange monster, a strange, sick draw. You were helpless to whatever had appeared before you and all its powers. Somehow, though, you had seemed to intrigue it despite your comparative weakness. 

“I go by many names, but demon is one of them,” it purred, red eyes glinting with something more than bloodlust, “I prefer others,”

“What should I call you then?”

“Whatever you please,”

You scoffed. “You said you had many names, why can’t you tell me even one?”

It huffed a long sigh, and if you didn’t know better, you would’ve said that you saw smoke erupt from where its nostrils should be. 

That being said, it didn’t seem like the thing was frustrated. If anything, the creature seemed amused. From its words, you could only assume it had been hundreds of years since it had last entertained itself on the human realm. You could only hope your rage was entertaining enough to keep any of its less desirable emotions at bay. 

“Names have power, Schatz. I can’t just go around telling everybody who I am,” it’s accent felt thicker as it leaned back, “but I suppose, if you and I were to make a deal, that I could allow you to name me something. Or I could choose one for you,”

“What if I didn’t make deal with you?” you challenged the creature with a smirk. 

It hummed low in its chest as it pondered your question. “Now that would be no fun,” 

“For me or for you?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Time was getting short now, with the clock on the wall ticking down the minutes until someone would arrive at your dressing room door to lead you out towards the set where the rest of the cast and crew were waiting. If they found you with the body it was over. Things with the demon needed to be resolved, and they needed to be resolved fast. 

Thankfully, it didn’t toy with you any more than you expected it to. 

“For both of us,” it replied, tail flicking almost excitedly, “I can’t touch you if we don’t make a deal, for better or for worse, and even then your soul wouldn’t be mine to toy with until the deal was complete. That being said, you’re in a pretty sticky situation. I think you need me just about as much as I need you, so I’ll ask again; What do you desire?”

You swallowed thickly. 

On one hand, you couldn’t imagine things would end up very pleasantly for you once the dark shadow who had staked its claim on that awful chaise lounge finally did have a chance to get its clawed hands on your soul. On the other hand, though, you had nothing left to lose. Fame, especially so young, always came at a price. You would wager to guess that even if your soul hadn’t been claimed by a demon, that it had already been stolen away by the producers and directors that pulled the strings of your life like you were some obedient little puppet dancing for an audience who wanted to devour you whole. 

In the end, an eternity in Hell with whatever was grinning at you like the Cheshire cat from the shadows might even be preferable to the horrors you’d already seen. 

Slowly, you answered its question. 

“I want to make every single person who ever took advantage of me suffer the same pain they put me through,” 

The creature’s face split into a toothy smile. 

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” 

Moving like smoke on water, it stood from its place on the chaise lounge, morphing in shape and size as it approached and held out it’s newly human-shaped hand to you. In his new form, at least, you assumed it was a he, the creature was handsome, all dark eyes and slick hair. He looked young, and somehow, even with his new, thin lips and human teeth, he retained his signature smile. You took his hand and shook it without hesitation.

Even with your heart beating almost out of your chest, you had to admit that, with a demon at your side, you felt more empowered than you ever had before. 

He noticed. 

“I am known to my kin as Asmodeus,” he cooed, long eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he drew near to you. You couldn’t bring yourself to mind, “You, though, my sweetest pet, may call me Daniel,” 

Daniel. 

Somehow, even after you had seen the faintest traces of his beastly form, you had to admit that the name suited him. Maybe not as well as Asmodeus, but it worked well enough. You looked up at him through lidded eyes. “I’m-”

Before you could answer, he pressed a finger to your rouged lips. 

“I know everything about you sweetling, no need for introductions. There is one last thing we need to do to seal the deal, though,” 

A pit formed in your stomach as you gulped, caught in Daniel’s entrancing gaze. You had to assume there was some sort of magic to it, a spell that kept you trapped for all long as he could stare down into your eyes. Still, it would do you no good to fight it. Besides, the pangs that were making their way through your whole being weren’t fear. 

Oh no, they were something much worse. 

“What do we need to do?” You asked, wetting your lips with your tongue. 

Daniel replied with a sly smile and a soft chuckle. “I need you to kiss me, of course,” 

Who were you to disagree with the expert?

With all the strength and bravery you could muster, you surged up and met Daniel’s lips with your own, melting into the kiss as he quickly took over, skilled tongue darting into your mouth to claim it as his own. He bit hard on your lip, hard enough to draw blood, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mind, not when your hands were busy exploring up under his shirt and finding purchase on the firm muscles that waited below. 

To be fair, he wasn’t exactly keeping his hands to himself either.

Sooner than you would have liked, though, Daniel was pulling his lips away from yours. It was just a fraction of an inch, your swollen mouths still connected by a string of saliva tinted a dark red with your blood, but you were already keening from the loss of him the second you caught your breath. The sound pleased him. 

“What are we to do first, sweetling?” he purred, letting his nails run gently against the soft skin of your waist, “I’m at your command,” His breath was hot against your fact, and he smelled like gun smoke. 

It drove you wild. 

You snuck a look at the clock before turning back to him, eyes aflame. “In about ten minutes we’ll need to have the mess in here cleaned up with any evidence gone, but before we do that, I want you- no, I need you to fuck me. Can you make that happen?”

Daniel beamed. 

“Oh, sweet girl, anything is possible with me at your side,” As he whipped you around to push you against the chaise lounge, licking his lips, he couldn’t help but add, “I believe this is the beginning of a very beneficial partnership,” 

And against all odds, as you hooked a leg up around his waist and pulled him in for another searing kiss, you had to agree.

--------

a/n: WOW WOW WOW THAT WAS GARBAGE BUT I LOVED IT. I finished season 5 of Lucifer yesterday, so I was in the mood for some demonic shit. I hope it was at least semi-enjoyable despite being straight up shitty writing lol. 

Taglist: @tatestripedsweater , @elaineygrace , @multiyfandomgirl40 ,  @lovelymischief , @be-cautious-around-bri 

[popsicle-parfait]

This is the second time I've had this dream and I feel like it'll be a recurring thing despite how fart apart the timeframe from both dreams are. Let me start from the beginning because this shit is freaky and I've never had the same dream more than once before so I'm not sure if this is a weird omen or sumn shit but I feel like this could be a weird story plot. So just listen, Kay?

The first dream started out simple it was me on the streets of somewhere just out jumping from roof to roof and greeting the kids around the neighborhood. Remember it's been a long time since the first dream so excuse me for not remembering all of it but I get into some sort of pickle where I can't defend myself from a fellow street kid and this person swoops in and help me out, saying things like "this is our turf" and "I'll beat you up if you come back here again". Then after the two of us get acquainted a bit more the person invites me to their "gang" (I'm saying it in quotation marks because the whole thing is run by street kids for street kids and the adults almost never seem present in these dreams so I'm assuming all of this shit is like, secret) and takes me to this beige colored building. When we climb a few ladders and crawl through a window there's this beautiful house interior with creme walls and a ballpit in like the back corner of the room but you'll never believe who I see there! There are like, 5-6 people in total, two Asian kids- a boy and a girl (I think they're siblings), there's one afro-latina girl who's named Naomi (she comes back which is why she has a name I think), and RANBOO!? He's sitting there in the middle on a couch with his usual attire but he was wearing a pink sparkly Letterman jacket with rhinestones all over it and the back said their group name it on it! That's another thing too, they all were wearing some variation of a uniform (there were things like accessories too, one of the siblings had a pink headband to go with their jacket). After a while of getting to know the members around me (I think we time skipped like a month of sumn ) I then myself got one of those special jackets before strolling down the streets with Naomi and there's where the first one comes off.

So that was already a lot to unpack but I just had the second one so let me tell you about this one because it has more detail.

So Naomi and I were walking down the street holding snacks for our group, I in particular had a big bag full of popcorn and we passed by this groups of kid that are partying until this dude tries to grab my popcorn from my hands and that's when I go MAD. I tell him that he shouldn't be taking my shit from me the way that he did and he straight up sassed me so I jump on his back out of anger! There was this girl with him holding a cup of red soda and she jumps up on top of naomi in retaliation, saying that I better get off one of her people before she does something to my friend. We both eventually get off after a round of bickering and trash talk when suddenly this boy walks to us (I think he might be somewhere around 12-16 cuz he didn't look like anyone else around us) and whispers to the girl who I figured out was Diane. They seemed to have a relationship with eachother and he's escorting her back somewhere before I hear "I hope you know that if I see you again, it's gonna be a problem" and they're gone. When I got back to our clubhouse I talked to the group about it and the conversation went something like this " and I jumped on Diane's boyfriend or something" " dude that's nuts! You jumped on Caesar!" "wait, was his black haired, had big lips?" "No, but thank god it wasn't him! You did attack someone from their posse tho!". The twins then started to show us their dance routine as a celebration for showing one of the big bad what's what.

So, here's some ideas I got from the new dream:

I think the group's so some type of underground dancing/performances to battle against each other. Based on the twins weird breakdancing I'm guessing that performing is our specialty in particular. I also think that since all of us are under 18 and kids that's really one of the only ways we can fight eachother and solve our conflicts.

There are tiers to the kids in The Neighborhood; Kids, Teens, and Elders. Kids are like 7th grade and younger (9-5), Teens are sophomores to 8th graders (16-10), and Elders are people 18 and younger (18-17). Once you hit full adulthood you have two choices, you either graduate by choice and have your memories slowly erased at a ceremony (you keep some of them as privilege/remembrance) or you have all memories of The Neighborhood be wiped clean to avoid problems of it being discovered in the future.

If you were to tell an adult about The Neighborhood they would shrug you off and wouldn't believe you. There are very few adults who still have glimpses of The Neighborhood in their minds and the ones that do mix it up as "stuff I used to do when I was your age".

The Neighborhood is basically the streets and alleyways, empty parking lots, parks, etc. But the different streets and areas are apart of which faction you came from. I will do more world building on this one so you could get the gist of it!

Each faction must have at least one Elder to help guide those about the group they're in and what faction they're apart of (mine was the person that showed me in, apparently Ranboo was the newest member before I came in).

Kids without uniforms are classified as choicers since they haven't been added to a group yet and those who don't want to be apart of one or don't have one are called outsiders.

Things like skateboards and heelys are used as means of transportation for those who live far or are apart of the trading business.

Lastly, I'm gonna call this AU the Streetlights AU and if you want to hear more about it just let me know. I have a bunch more concepts and ideas I'm gonna send in soon so stay posted! If you guys have any ideas yourself or want to add onto it just let me know what you think!

[sapphiics]

Didn’t we almost have it

a/n: I heavily suggest listening to Dammit by Jana Kramer while reading this, it is where I got the entire plot from.

dt: to my dear @morcias because who else just loves morcia so much. plus I asked her a million questions to help me figure out details for this.

word count: 3k

content warning: it’s angsty(?) and quite sad but with a very happy ending.

-----

God did Penelope hate driving through Illinois.

The only reason she was coming back was for the bridal shower of a girlfriend from college, otherwise she would’ve stayed in California, where she was at least a good thousand miles away from this place.

All it did was make her nostalgic, almost painfully so. The entire state serving as a physical reminder of her old life. One she had not a chance in hell of getting back.

The urge to race her car to the nearest ‘Leaving Illinois’ sign coming over her yet again, Penelope makes a right turn onto Commonwealth avenue. Christina’s house was only five minutes from where she was.

It was the walkway that first drew her eye. A stone path, small flowers lining it. She could almost hear his heavy footsteps getting louder as he jogs to greet her, meeting Penelope in the middle with a chaste kiss as she hauls grocery bags under her arms, enough food for four. 

As she nears closer, her eyes travel up the length of the two-story building, it’s utter perfectness painfully pressing into her like a stab to the gut. It took every ounce of restraint that she possessed not to slam the brakes and just gawk at the vision in front of her.

That was the house.

The dream house. The one the two of them fantasized about back in college. Penelope can practically see the late nights they spent in her dorm, cramped together on her twin bed, their fingers intertwined. His free hand running over her head, pushing her hair back behind her ear and tilting her into his shoulder. Hushed planning of their happily ever after. She can hear his voice whispering in her ear, about how they would have two perfect daughters. He would be a FBI agent, and she would work for a nonprofit organization. He’d cook, she’d clean, he would take care of the lawn, she’d do the laundry.

That was the plan. Their own special, simple, linear plan.

Until real life happened, essentially taking those plans and throwing it off a cliff. That’s all it was now, a pretty daydream to keep Penelope from having to accept the fact that nothing in her life is going like she hoped, and she’s probably going to end up alone.

None of that stopped her from turning into the lot of the house, the door slightly cracked open. A large ‘For Sale’ sign hung on it. 

Giving her the perfect opportunity to see what she could’ve had. To spend a few fleeting moments dreaming of the life she would’ve had with him.

Finally found that dream house, and yet the dream guy was long gone.

Her hands shakier than she would’ve liked, Penelope slowly steps out of her car, the two story home everything she ever envisioned.

The path up to the house was lined with daffodils, she could see as she passed them. The front door was a smooth dark brown. Solid wood, contrasting with the otherwise creme exterior of the house.

That would’ve been his touch. He always liked that building and renovating stuff, she could almost hear him begging her to let him remodel the place. To really ‘make it their home.’

The entrance didn’t nothing to deter her, the arching ceilings and oak floors straight out of her most vivid dreams. The arches reminded her of college. Charles Deering Memorial Library, to be specific. She had always liked the gothic architecture, and even he could admit that the towering building’s medieval influence was well executed. And that chill day in March, the ninth, to be exact, when they first met. She was working there part-time, and he needed something from the football archives.

It was his smile that drew her in, his eyes drawn up real small as he flashed her two rows of perfect teeth. 

What she would give for one of those smiles right about now.

An embarrassingly loud gasp left her mouth as she walked in further. Ahead of her were a pair of large black couches, perpendicular to each other. A grand fireplace in front of them, an open space perfect for a nice big flat screen.

Hockey. That’s what would be playing. He was huge on the sport, and her mind drifted to an image of the two of them sitting on the couch. Him in a worn out jersey and his lucky socks, her in his beat leather jacket, feet propped up in his lap. She has headphones and her knitting, he has a beer she steals sips of and has a loose grip on her ankle, his fingers pressing against the small tattoo she got the day she turned eighteen. Just like old times.

Without even glimpsing at the side door that led to the kitchen, Penelope could already visualize him sitting on the counter. A soft white tee and some sweatpants, strumming on her ukulele and singing some old 90s ballad off key while she chopped vegetables. Later that night, after their girls went to bed, the two of them dancing together to her parents’ old record player. An old Bee Gees song softly in the background as they sway.

Her mind racing, she’s already thinking of summer barbecues. Her and JJ drinking margaritas in the shade, their children’s laughter bringing a grin to her face. Him talking it up with Rossi about god knows what as he mans the grill. The sun setting as he takes a seat next to her, tugging her into his side and placing a small kiss on the side of her head.

The overwhelming realization that Penelope is never going to get that future, never going to have the future she so desperately wanted with him, hit her harder than ever in that moment.

And next thing she knows she can feel tears running down her cheeks. Alone, in the middle of an open house in the one state, the one city she vowed to never return to, and she’s sobbing like a baby.

“Well Hello Miss!” ,a kind old woman steps out, shocking Penelope back to reality, “You here for the house?”

 “Yes,“ she says softly, hastily wiping at her face,  “Yes I am. Just a quick look around.” Her hands swipe at her dress, trying to regain even a semblance of composure, “You have a beautiful home.”

The woman casts her a sympathetic smile,

“Thank you. Me and Sarah have lived here for over forty years. We raised our five children in these very walls,” the lady beams, a smile coming over her face as she looks around the room, 

“We figured that with them all gone and us not getting any younger, we could downsize just a bit.”

Penelope let out a polite laugh, but stayed silent otherwise.

“You stay for as long as you like! My name’s Carolyn by the way. Let me know if you need anything!”

“Penelope, and thank you,” she smiles at her, Carolyn returning to the back of the house.

Penelope’s eyes catch onto the grand staircase, passing over the perfect crème walls and carpet flooring.

Her feet moved towards it, the view before her so accurate to her vision that it was like somebody reached into her brain and pulled out the design themselves. She needed to have this place.

Right before she can take a step on the stairs, she sees Carolyn return, a dimmed smile on her face.

“I’d like to buy the house,” Penelope states confidently. She couldn’t possibly leave here without having it.

It didn’t matter that she lived across the country, with decent enough friends and a steady job. This was the house, and if she had the chance to get at least one part of the dream, she damn sure was going to take the opportunity.

Carolyn winces, a regretful look on her face. “I’m so sorry Penelope, we just had somebody place an offer for it.”

“Oh,” Penelope’s eyes widen slightly, and she can feel the tears pushing their way to the surface. For just a second, she let herself get entranced by the home, and it hurt more than she was willing to admit that she couldn’t have it.

“Are you looking for a similar house ? There’s one just in Fullerton Road, and I believe it is on sale.”

“No I… I just got caught up,” Penelope waves her hand around the side of her head, her cheeks turning red, “It’s okay, an amazing family deserves this home.”

“Actually, the young man who purchased the place is with Sarah in the back right now. He’s already thinking of renovating the place.”

“Sounds great,” Penelope mused, wanting to be anywhere but here. At least a loving family is getting this house. She just hoped they were as happy as she once imagined she would be.

“Here they are,“  Carolyn announces, adding to Penelope’s discomfort. She had to leave, and fast. The last thing she wanted to see was the happy husband who bought this place to catch her, essentially a random stranger, crying in his kitchen.

“Is your family nearby? Why didn’t they come?” A woman, Penelope could only assume was Sarah, Carolyn’s wife, was talking to the new owner of the house. Penelope stiffened, the awkwardness of the situation palpable.

A deep laugh comes from the other person, and she could hear the two people approaching. “Nope, I’m a single man.”

“What the hell did you need such a big house for then?” Sarah quips.

“Just,” the guy takes a resigned breath, “Just wishful thinking I guess.“

Penelope could hear her heartbeats, the sound thrumming loudly in her ears. She shut her eyes, squeezing them to the point of something akin to pain. This couldn’t be happening. This could just be a terrible dream, and when she opened them, she would be waking up in her apartment. Back home, where she was away from her old life here. Safely away from the love of her life, whose voice she just heard for the first time in five years.

“Sarah, this is Penelope. She just stopped by to look at the house.”

Penelope reluctantly turns, peeling her eyes open. To her disappointment, she was still standing in the swept sold house. Still back in her college town.

Still right in front of her ex-fiancé, one she’s just as irrevocably in love with as she was the day he proposed.

“Derek,” she lets out quietly, drinking in everything about him. He’s only gotten better-looking, and Penelope has always been attracted to him.

It was his face, his eyes to be specific, that captured her in this moment.

Because instead of the resentment and anger she had expected, she had deserved, all that was there was a small shimmer of hope. A sliver of hope that she almost cried tears of relief at seeing. Hope she had given up on ever having until she saw it in his face. The same look reflected in her own eyes.

“Penelope.” 

His voice usually stern, she can hear the small waver in his tone. Like he’s just as affected by her as she is him.

Even after all these years, she can’t help but melt when it comes to Derek. It was like her innermost self just knew him, recognized that he, no matter how far apart they were, was always going to have a part of her heart. A power over her that she would never give to any other person.

Yet looking into Derek’s eyes, the only man to ever capture her heart, Penelope could’ve sworn he was feeling the same way she did.

“So, um, we’ll just leave you two for now,”  Carolyn’s eyes clearly wide as she drags her wife outside of the kitchen, leaving the pair alone together.

Derek walks a couple steps closer to her, the smell of nice cologne wafting to her nose as he moves near.

He opened his mouth, almost as if he were about to start speaking, but Penelope catches his small sigh and the twitch of his hands.

They were so close, closer than they had been in years, yet that short distance felt wider than the thousands of miles she had made sure to have between them for the past half a decade.

The lack of touch. That’s what was halting them.

They were always touching one another. It was an unspoken language, just for the two of them to understand. 

To be so close yet not touching, it felt so inorganic to Penelope, so abnormal.

Penelope looks just a little off to the right of him, his presence too overwhelming. He was examining her, and the quiet was anxious.

“Why didn’t you take the ring?” Derek spits out, his low voice subdued by the hurt she could just hear in his voice. “ I could handle how you left, no note or calls. But you left me your ring Penelope.”

She thought she was prepared for this, the anger he would have for her. But hearing the words in real time, from Derek himself, made her stomach turn. A ball of nausea tossed in her stomach, Derek’s pain something that never failed to physically wound Penelope.

“Derek...,” her heart breaking at how much she affected him.

“Did I,” he pauses, sucking in a shallow breath, “Did we mean that little to you?”

“No.” She locks onto his eyes at that, holding his stare. “You- us, that was everything to me.” A fierceness was in her voice that shocked her, and at the look of his slightly widened stare, she wasn’t the only one. The idea that Derek for a second could fathom the idea that he wasn’t the love of her life, her soulmate, was a stake to the heart.

“Was it marriage? Was it not wanting to be married? Because you could’ve told me.”

Surprising her own self, she moves in a half-step, her hands enclosing one of Derek’s clenched ones. Her fingers act on instinct, sliding through his, rubbing her thumb on the back of his index finger. Five years and his fingers still naturally close around hers .

Her teeth firmly sunk into the flesh on the back of her lip, she peers up at Derek, his expression unreadable. He was always better at the reading people thing, it was like second nature to him.

“I promise you, Derek Morgan, there is nothing I have ever wanted more than to marry you.”

Feeling his hand tighten around hers, glancing up to see his brows pulling together, she pushes on, needing to express to him her every feeling. “ You didn’t deserve what I did, and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by when I didn’t feel like the luckiest person in the world to have such an amazing guy.”

“ I am so,” words that she’s been practicing for years suddenly getting clogged in her throat, making every word come out like a croak, “ so sorry for ever hurting you.”

Tears burning behind her eyes, nothing stuns her more than when Derek cups her face, his large palm enclosing her cheek as he runs his fingers lightly through her hair. 

“Is it the house?”

Taken aback, Penelope jolts her head upward. “What?”

His hand now on her shoulder, he turns her to the right, giving her a wider view of the home.

“Is it the right house?”

“It’s the perfect house.” Her voice trailing off at the end.

She faces Derek, his lips pressed together like he’s trying not to say something.

“We could- we could still have it.” His eyes looking at their hands, in a way that was so unlike him, Penelope didn’t dare try to assume anything about what his words meant.

“Have what?” her attempt to keep her voice even failing miserably. Averting his stare, her eyes land on his neck, where a thin gold chain rests.

A chain that had something that looked dangerously similar to a ring hidden under his shirt.

He looks to where she’s staring, a bald-faced look on her face, and his fingers pull out the necklace to reveal a gold wedding band. The one she bought for him, with the special engraving on the inside.

Through the tears rapidly coming to her eyes, she could see Derek’s face. And the vulnerability and love that shined from him to her 

Because he kept it. Even in his clear anger and hurt, the heartbreak she put him in, he kept her ring. 

“The plan.” Derek reaches behind his neck, his fingers reaching to the clasp of the necklace. “The big wedding, the two girls,” He slides the ring off of the chain, twirling it round in his hand. “Our dream.” He finally places the ring in her hands, gently closing her fingers around it.

Her mouth falling slightly open, Penelope slowly blinks three times. The words that just came out of his mouth so unbelievable that her brain was taking some time to catch up. She pulls her lip sideways into her mouth, too nervous to say anything.

His hands come up on each side of her face, a tender clasp that lets him turn her head up towards him.

“I never gave up on you, on us.” He lets out a sad laugh, “ Hell, I’m here about to buy a house just to try and get a piece of that dream.”

Penelope bobs her head slightly back, the shock of what’s happening still getting to her. “You really still want it?”

And Derek, bless his sweet soul, just looks at her with a small smile resting on his lips. “There is nothing, absolutely nothing babygirl,” the sound of his old nickname for her better than anything she’s heard the last few years, “that I want more than to be with you for the rest of my life.”

A matching smile coming to her mouth, she brings Derek’s left hand down to her own, and slides the wedding band on to his ring finger.

A soft cry breaks from her lips, and she feels nothing other than pure joy when he leans down, taking her lips in a sweet kiss.

Maybe, just maybe, they can have it after all.

————

taglist: @alexandrablake @lavenderbau @suburban--gothic @altsvu @rem-ariiana @vhsrights @spelleaway @willlemonheadsupremacy @ssaevie @literatekayla @criminalswifts @hotchshoney @moreidsdaughter @reidtheprettyboy

[dandylion240]

All for Jonah and Cecil, as well as Ethan pretty please for the get to know an oc :)

Favorites - you can tell a lot about a person by what they like:

1. Candy?

Jonah: Mike & Ike's Hot Tamales

Cecil: Skittle - Jolene got him hooked on them. She told him that since he couldn't see a rainbow he could at least know what one tas

Ethan: Twizzlers

2. Kind of pizza?

Jonah: veggie pizza

Cecil: sausage and black olive

Ethan: meat lovers pizza

3. Flavor of donut?

Jonah: boston creme

Cecil: chocolate sprinkles

Ethan: glazed donuts

4. Amusement park/carnival activity?

Jonah: watching the kids having fun riding the rides and meeting the performers, ect

Cecil: being with his chosen family, enjoying their laughter and excited voices.

Ethan: the arcade and games trying to beat the best scores and winning the prizes.

6. Pair of shoes?

Jonah: all of them. He loves his shoes. He has quite an impressive collection of shoes.

Cecil: a pair of Ugg boots to wear in the snow. He's so excited for his trip to Mt. Komorebi

Ethan: his bunny slippers

7. Type of weather?

Jonah: the first snow of the season.

Cecil: feeling the sunshine on his face

Ethan: a good thunderstorm

8. Bird?

Jonah: Swans

Cecil: Mourning Dove

Ethan: Eagle

9. Scent?

Jonah: fresh laundry, especially fresh clean sheets.

Cecil: The way the air smells after a spring rain or the salty spray of the ocean

Ethan: fresh baked apple pie

10. Color?

Jonah: White

Cecil: he hasn't ever seen color before so it's hard for him to choose a favorite.

Ethan: Blue

11. Subject in school?

Jonah: music

Cecil: he never went to school but if he had he would have enjoyed everything. Dragon's love knowledge.

Ethan: lunch

This got really long so the rest in under the read more. I tried to keep the answers to where we are at in the story. Some things may change as the characters grow and change. Plus I'm trying not to give away spoilers. @mahvaladara I guessed on some of the answers for Cecil so if it's wrong or you want to add to it let me know.

Routines - who are they in the day-to-day:

1. Do they put the milk or the cereal first in the bowl?

Jonah: who would put milk before the cereal?

Cecil: I did once ...

Ethan: we were cleaning milk up for days

Jonah: no we weren't (glares at Ethan)

2. What do they wear to bed?

Jonah: boxers

Cecil: pajamas

Ethan: boxers

3. Do they sing in the shower? What’s their go-to song (or karaoke song)?

Jonah: (blushes slightly) yes

Cecil: what is that song you sing?

Ethan: You are my Sunshine

Cecil: yes, so pretty. Will you sing it for me?

Jonah: (moving towards the piano) I'll play it for you. You and Ethan can sing it.

4. Right-handed or left-handed?

Jonah: right handed

Cecil: (frowns) you don't use both?

Ethan: not all of us are dragons.

Cecil: that is obvious

5. What is their preferred caffeine source and how do they take it?

Jonah: energy drinks.

Cecil: chocolate

Ethan: pop

6. What are their sleep habits like?

Jonah: normal I think.

Ethan: except the nightmares

Jonah: shrugs

Ethan: you should take your sleeping pills

Cecil: growls

7. What song is likely to be in their Most Played list?

Jonah: currently I'm listening to Eli's songs. He asked me for advise on how he could make it better. Instead I'm lookfing for ways to help him realize his vision for what he wants his song to say.

Cecil: Much like I'm doing for you and you're music

Ethan: Holding Out for a Hero

8. How do they relax after a stressful day?

Jonah: playing the piano

Cecil: reading to the twins while Jonah plays

Ethan: watching TV

9. What do they do first thing in the morning?

Jonah: brush my teeth then make breakfast for everyone

Cecil: help Jonah with breakfast

Ethan: take a shower while they're making breakfast

10. What’s the last thing they do before they go to bed?

Jonah: brush my teeth

Ethan: try to get Jonah to take his pills

Cecil: growls

11. Do they have any addictions (or former addictions)?

Together: no

Cecil: sideeyes Ethan but remains silent.

Ethan: pretends not to notice

12. What are their bad habits?

Jonah: um I guess not putting myself first sometimes. I'm always putting everyone else first that I've lost myself.

Cecil: I collect too many things; especially books but I can't see how that could be considered a bad things. Books are good.

Ethan: I suppose some would say I'm selfish.

13. What’s something they have to do everyday (besides eating/taking medications/basic self-care)?

Jonah: play the piano. Can't help it. I have to play it.

Cecil: read. Now that I know how I have so much to learn.

Ethan: Check on Jonah. Make sure he's not overdoing it and stuff...

Cecil: growls warningly

14. Are there any phrases or gestures they overuse?

Jonah: I've been accused of saying "I'm sorry" too often. Even for things I have no reason to be sorry for.

Cecil: you have no reason to be sorry for your feelings.

Ethan: depends on whether they really are his feelings and not the product of someone coaching him.

Jonah: that's not what's happening....

15. What do they keep in their pockets/bag/glove compartment?

Jonah: first aid kit in case the kids fall and hurt themselves.

Ethan: Jonah's pills. Never know when he may need them.

Cecil: he doesn't need them

Ethan: so you say but I can see the stress he's under

Philosophy - reflections on the greater world:

1. Do they believe in soulmates or fate?

Jonah: soulmates definitely. I hate to think I was fated to go through all this pain.

Cecil: maybe it was fate. Maybe you meant to save me.

Ethan: glares at them feeling very much like a thirdwheel

2. Do they believe they have a destiny? What is it?

Jonah: no (firmly shaking his head)

Cecil: (gives him a curious look) our destiny is intertwined. Yours was to save me. Mine is to help you find yourself.

Ethan: my destiny is to protect Jonah.

Cecil: do better.

3. What are five things that always make them happy?

Jonah: my kids, Cecil, music, Peaches and um ... I guess Ethan

Cecil: you don't need to include him....

Jonah: I know I just (gives a self -conscious shrug)

Cecil: Jonah, the kids, being free, learning to read, and snow.

Ethan: all I need to be happy is Jonah

4. What is the quickest way to their heart?

Jonah: feeling that I'm heard. That someone is actually listening to me.

Cecil: someone who keeps their promises. Jonah is good at keeping his promises.

Ethan: someone who needs me.

5. What’s one thing they would change about themselves?

Jonah: how I see myself. I want to see myself the way Cecil see's me. Strong. A hero instead of the helpless one.

Cecil: to be able to see with my eyes. I'd love to really see the children's faces ... Jonah's face.

Ethan: that I was the hero I want to be.

6. If they had three wishes (standard genie rules apply) what would they wish for?

Jonah: I wish people really truly heard me, I wish for my kids to be happy and that Cecil could see with his eyes with as much depth as he sees with his heart.

Cecil: I wish I could fly to give the children rides, I wish they were my family, I wish for Jonah to be heard.

Ethan: I wish Jonah to be well, I wish that he hadn't been taken and I wish he would look at me the way he used to.

7. What are their views on death?

Jonah: it's the end of one journey and start of another

Cecil: it's a new realm of existence

Ethan: I don't like to think about. I don't want to die alone.

8. What do they value above all else?

Jonah: my kids

Cecil: Jonah and the kids. My chosen family.

Ethan: I can take care of MY family. I know what's best for them and Jonah.

9. Are they superstitious?

Jonah: (shaking his head) I don't think so. I think things just happen not because you broke a mirror or a black cat crossed your path.

Cecil: some things are more mystical than others. You just need to be able to read them.

Ethan: some things are just bad luck. Like nothing has been the same since Cecil showed up.

10. Do they have a creed or code that they live by?

Jonah: the golden rule. You know treat others the way you want to be treated.

Cecil: failure is not final

Ethan: I don't know. To keep things the same, controlled, calm.

Other:

1. Can they ride a bike? A skateboard? A horse?

Jonah: I can ride a bike and skateboard. Never went horseback riding

Cecil: no

Jonah: maybe one day we can go horseback riding together.

Ethan: that would be a sight to see.

Jonah: don't be like that. It'd be fun. We could hire a carraige or something or he could ride behind me.

2. How would their best friend describe them?

Jonah: (turning to Cecil) how would you describe me

Ethan: why does he get to describe you? I'm your husband.

Jonah: yeah? They asked for my best friend.

Ethan: I though I was both

Jonah: um ... it's not the same.

Cecil: Jonah saved me. He's my hero. A hero. He's stronger than people believe he is. Everyone underestimates him and don't listen to what he wants. And you (turns to glare at Ethan) smother and choke out all the brilliant fire around so that only you can shine.

3. What’s something they do to indulge or treat themselves?

Jonah: play the piano or take a bubble bath

Cecil: read. Books I love books. Learning everything I can.

Ethan: um ... join Jonah in the bath with a little wine and soft music

4. Would they rather be a pirate, a cowboy, a ninja, or an astronaut?

Jonah: I always wanted to be a pirate when I was a kid

Cecil: a pirate would be fun. All that treasure!

Ethan: I don't like those options. I'd rather be a superhero.

5. What would they name their children (or pets if they wouldn’t want children)?

Jonah/Ethan: we already have 4 kids (Eli, Jolene, Ezekial and Ephraim and one dog, Peaches)

Cecil: If I had children I'd choose Chandrayg and Juniper

Ask your own

[miyalove]

mornings | bokuto koutarou

—pairing: bokuto x gn!reader

—warnings: manga spoilers, swearing, fluffy fluff (literally that’s it), unedited*

—synopsis: 1.9k | waking up at 5 am is not humanly moral in your book, but maybe you can make an exception for when your boyfriend texts in need of some help

—dedication: @kei-kui​, & @tobiosmilktea​ thank you for helping me figure out what bokuto/gym 3 would smell like! you’re answers were heavily appreciated! 🤧✨ 

[4] UNREAD MESSAGES FROM KOU 🦉💞

[5:01 AM] Hey hey you busy right now? 🤔🤠

[5:01 AM] (Y/n)!! Wake uuuup 😡

[5:01 AM] It pains me to say this but i need your help! It’s important!!!!

[5:02 AM] HELLO? ☹️ Come to my dorm asap!! pretty please 🥺

waking up at 5 am is never an ideal concept. never in your life would you have thought that waking up at the ass crack of dawn was a good idea. whether it be for you, your family, or even your sweet boyfriend…

it just isn’t worth it!

at least that’s what your thinking when you sit up, blinking at the unseen messages on your bright— bright phone screen. you’re grumbling for a while, a whole five minutes to be exact. pouting and muttering curses at your bimbo boyfriend that you love so much because how dare he deprive you of something as sacred as sleep!

he’s so lucky you live less than 10 minutes away from the black jackal dorms because if that wasn’t the case, you would have turned down his request instantly. getting out of your car, you enter the building wanting to get out of the chilly morning air as quick as humanly possible. 

you’re wandering the halls in a big sweater (which, more than likely, is bokuto’s) glaring at the carpeted floors as they get lost under your slippers. you’re not dressed in anything special. there’s no fancy underwear, neatly combed hair, or even an ounce of makeup on your face— nope.

if your boyfriend wanted to rip away at your sleep than he must handle you at your most natural state. it’s a punishment, you say to yourself but he’s bokuto, you remind. he’ll probably love you even more…

you roll your eyes at the wholesome thought.

finally, you’ve arrived at your destination. the ugly creme colored door stares back at you almost challengingly, mockingly.

on the other side of this stupid door is your even stupider boyfriend. seriously, i have time to turn back, you think, i could say “oh sorry i was asleep— like every normal human at the time— so i couldn’t come to your room, kou.”

your glaring intensifies at the thought of bailing.

i’m already here… fuck it, i guess.

with a sigh of defeat, you knock on the door once, twice, three times before you’re greeted with the familiar face of your lovely boyfriend.

he’s smiling down at you, pearly whites on full display and his enchanting eyes smile at you too. his mop of hair isn’t slicked up like usual. you can’t but smile at how good the man before you looks with his long hair covering his forehead. it’s a rare sight, when his hair is down, so you take every chance you get to reveal in the moment whenever he’s like this.

but you can’t stray away from your thoughts, just yet.  don’t get it twisted, you’re still angry at him, but god, does he look good. his cheeks are flushed a rosy pink and his tan skin glistens with a sheer layer of what you think is sweat.

“i knew you’d make it,” he loudly greets, pumping his chest out in confidence like an owl successfully hunting it’s prey. you can hear the excitement in his tone and it makes you curious as to what is so truly important that he woke you up at this hour.

if only your curiosity beat out your grumpiness, “ugh!” you groan.

“why am i here and what exactly is so important, kou?” you push past him, making a turn straight for his bed. plopping down face first into his thick, comfy sheets.

the scent reminds you of him— musky, smelling of an adventure deep in a mossy forest and the faint scent of air salonpas (essential oils, white flowers, and vapor rub). so many contrasting scents but as cliche as it sounds; it’s comforting. a spicy, woody scent that can only be described as; bokuto koutarou.

with blankets, pillows, sheets and a whole comforter wrapped around you it feels like you’re enveloped in his arms, pressed against his chest. a small smile tugs at your lips, eyes fluttering shut ready to welcome slumber.

you’re so close to sleep.

so close to slipping back into the dark euphoria…

“(y/n)? no! get up! i didn’t call you here to sleep, silly!” you vaguely hear him whine. and your heart skips a little, imagining his pout.

but you were so close!

you sigh a mixture of sleepy disappointment and crabbiness but that doesn’t stop you from sitting up, rubbing your eyes, and turning your attention back to your stupidly adorable lover.

you’re in the middle of a yawn when you grumble out a response, “then why am i here?”

rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, there’s no response. maybe he went to the bathroom? you shift on the bed, fluttering your eyes back open only to be met with two piercing golden eyes meeting your gaze. your heart sputters in your chest.

there’s a soft smile on his face. his eyes blink with an unclear emotion as they stare. if only you could read his mind then you’d have your answers.

bokuto doesn’t move, you’re so adorable! and sometimes he genuinely thinks you think the opposite. how? that’s beyond him.

he can’t help but stare. he’s so stupidly in love with you that you could tell him to jump out of his dorm window right now and he’d do it without hesitation, probably even do a backflip too because anything to impress you, right? so blindly whipped and he doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not… either way, he’d rather not find out.

snapping out of his trance, his expression changes instantly, “you’re doing this on purpose!” he points an accusing finger in your direction. his eyes are narrowed, brows furrowed, lips tucked into a pout.

 you remain in his bed, head tilted to the side clearly confused.

“doing... what on purpose?”

he snaps his head away from you, “you’re just so cute, how can i not get distracted, silly.” he’s talking in pout at this point, words getting mumbled aloud. you can’t see if he’s blushing or not, but knowing him, that’s probably why he turned away from you in the first place.

there’s a silence, now. he can’t help but think he said or did something wrong. panic slowly settles in his chest, weighing him down but then you speak, “koutarou, i love you. i really do, but if you don’t tell me why the hell i came here at 5 am then i’m going to—”

“exercise!” and suddenly, your boyfriend is high in the air, arms out stretched in a cheer. you freeze, visibly stiffening and he just knows that he’s fucked up somehow. you aren’t saying anything. the two of you are just making awkward eye contact, bokuto debates on explaining his thoughts... 

you can see the gears turning in his head, mentally you chuckle at your boyfriend’s thinking face. his brows are scrunched and lips are pursed. if this was a children’s cartoon, smoke would probably be coming out of his ears at how hard he’s working his brain. 

you decide to give him a break, “exercise for what? like jogging?”

he sighs and across the room you see the tension leave his shoulders.

“no! i’ve forgotten how to jog anyways so that’s out of the picture,” you cant help but giggle because that was a habit he developed in high school. “forgetting” how to do basic things. it’s nice to know that somethings remain the same despite years passing by. he waves off your giggle though and instantly looks over to gage your reaction. seeing your expression the same as before: confused and tired, he continues, “i just needed motivation to do some dorm exercises!”

golden eyes once again meet yours. his million watt smile rivals the bright aura hinata radiates. you love seeing him so happy, but that doesn’t stop you from probing more, “motivation like how?”

a beat of silence, he walks to the side of his bed standing across from you. his large hand reaches out towards you and he nods reassuringly at your figure. it’s times like these when you silently thank any god that’s out there because this beautiful, beautiful man is yours.

grabbing at his callous hands, he guides you to the floor gently laying you down. your gazes connect for a split second and his eyes glow with admiration, there isn’t a foggy veil that indicates a double meaning with his actions so with that you lie down comfortably still.

you trust him.

but sometimes trust can only go so far without explanation.

it’s when he situates himself on top of you, his hands are on both sides of your head and he hovers a top of your figure for a few seconds. your eyes widen, a pink blush creeping up on your cheeks. your hands swiftly fly up to cover them from embarrassment.

“kou? what— what are you doing?” but the words die on your tongue as quickly as he bends down to come face-to-face with you. his lips merely a few inches away from yours.

“that’s one…” his voice is velvet against your skin, pleasant and soft. he’s so close to you. if he drops down any lower, you’re sure he could hear the rapid beating within your chest.

he doesn’t move for a while, holding his stance quite literally hovering right above your figure. his intense stare doesn’t leave yours and you wish you could hold it but with such a handsome boy staring at you like that it’s kind of really difficult.

you let out a shaky breath, “what are you doing?”

“that’s one, (y/n),” he’s speaking slowly, “that means… one kiss!”

did you just hear that correctly!? your face felt like it was on fire. a blush spreading to your ears that could make a certain middle blocker’s hair jealous. god, did he really just say that? and so confidently too? who was this man? you want to say something but the words choke at your throat, and you’re gapping like a clueless fish.

noticing your shock, bokuto’s fast to speak up. with on brow raised, he’s smirking down at you, “huh? you’re acting like we’ve never kissed before!”

he does have a point. why all of a sudden you’re so flustered about this is beyond you. you’ve both been in a happy relationship for the past nine months and to get flustered over merely kissing was sort of ridiculous on your end. 

but you can’t help it, bokuto koutarou is by far the most handsome, genuine, and absolutely adorable man all wrapped up into one big, beefy package. how can you not get flustered whenever this man ask for a kiss? 

sighing aloud, you finally get those fleeting thoughts past you. bokuto’s figure is still hovering over you, his arms shake a bit at the plank position he’s stuck in but his smile doesn’t fade. you lean close placing a fleeting kiss on his lips.

giggles are exchanged (but bokuto’s “giggles” usually end up shaking up the whole room. he has a very large flare for the dramatics), small brief glances, and smiles. you’re both having a good time. helping your boyfriend with something as simple as working out never felt so great.

it is at the 78th push-up, at the 78th kiss that you realize… maybe early mornings aren’t all that bad after all.

[marauders-tales]

Always

Warning: Toxic, abusive father/husband, alcohol, depression, mental illness

Characters: Eileen Prince, Severus Snape, Tobias Snape

The dark room was filled with a strong scent of yesterday’s alcohol, it seemed to be so old and settled that the open window letting in cold air couldn’t save the house from the smell.

She opened her eyes and for a moment she felt like it was a new day, like it was possible to get up, stretch, open the window and smile to the sun, but after a few seconds, a bad feeling started to fill her insides. Now she finally remembered yesterday and her face started to hurt again. She tried to open her mouth to check if she still could. Fortunately, she did, but her jaw felt like it was bruised.  

Getting up, with her long dark grey robes sliding over the floor, she saw a man lying on the couch next to the bed. He was snoring and the origin of the horrible smell seemed to be obvious now. A hit of anxiety filled her chest suddenly, it always happened when she saw him, or when somebody even mentioned him. Praying for him not to wake up, she tiptoed out of the room. The old floor was squeaking under every step of hers and her heart started to beat faster, sweat hit her front head, but he didn’t seem to be waking up so easily.  

She entered the bathroom, taking a look in the mirror. She was right, her face was bruised again, and it felt like she could still feel his fist on her jaw. The black eye he gave her last week wasn’t completely healed either, so she decided she couldn’t show her face to her son like that. Already prepared, she took a little jar out of the shelf next to the mirror, opened it, a greenish smoke came out of it and the smell of herbs hit her nose. The creme that she cooked herself, was healing her bruises quite well, it helped to hide them.

“He will still now, he always does.” She thought, asking herself why she was even trying. Their awful relationship was obvious to everybody by now.  

After getting dressed in the living room, where she always kept her clothes, knowing she might have to leave the bedroom as soon as possible in the morning, she went to take a look at her son. His tiny room was dark, like the whole house, the walls painted grey, rests of food from a few days ago still on the little bedside drawer. He always ate in his room to avoid his father as much as possible. He usually managed to escape him, unless Tobias came home drunk, looking for a fight. Then he would call his son to the living room, starting to provoke him crying, telling him that he’s worth nothing, that he’s stupid and nobody wants him alive, until finally Severus started to cry and his dad would beat him for being weak and a coward. Every time she tried to protect her son, Tobias gave her a new bruise. Just like the day before.

“Mother...” the boy started to wake up opening his eyes. She went straight to him.  

“Good morning, little Prince.” She always called him that, she thought it would maybe make him feel special. Special and hers. “Show me your back.” She pulled up his pyjama sweater to take a look at the marks on his back. This time they seemed worse than ever. Tobias hit him with a belt, over and over again. Her eyes filled with tears, but she hid them quite well, she always did. “It’s not so bad.” She smiled at him.

“I’m alright, just had to sleep on my belly.” He replied. He always was a courageous boy, he hated showing his pain. He was just like her.  

“It’s going to be a special summer, you will soon go to Hogwarts, your letter came eyesterday, you will need a lot of new things. I’ve been saving up a bit.” She added in a whisper. “Get dressed.” She said quickly as the snoring in the bedroom silenced. “You will have to go alone, I’m sorry.” 

She hasn’t been outside for 6 years now. It started with not wanting the neighbors to notice her wound, then it transformed into a sociophobia, she forgot how to talk to strangers, how to look them in the eyes. Now it turned into a routine. She has been told so often that she was horrible, that she should be hidded behind four walls and that she doesn’t mean anything to the world, that she started to believe in it. Only thinking about going out the door gave her panic attacks, she immediately started gasping for air and feeling dizzy. Now she had to send her son to his brand new world all alone, because she wasn’t physically capable of helping him out.

“Mother. I don’t want to go to Hogwarts. I want to stay with you. Besides, he will never let me.” Severus never called his father “dad”, he has always been just “he”. “Why don’t we run away, together? You’re a witch, an amazing witch, we can hide. He will never find us.”

She forced a smile. “You will go to Hogwarts, believe me, I will make sure of it. I’ll talk to your father when he’s sobered up. He’s not a bad man, he just drinks a lot. He’s not that bad when he doesn’t. He loves you.” She said it in a cold voice, but she didn’t even believe in her words herself. She leaned towards him. “We have to stay, you will be a great wizard. You will change the world, I know that, I can see the powers in you. You won’t be like me, cooking potions is the only thing I’m capable of, that’s all. I would never be able to keep you safe, your father broke my wand, I’m weak, little Prince. But you won’t be. That’s why we have to stay, I’m going to put all of my hopes on you, one day, you will understand that I’m doing this because I love you. And I will, always.” She added leaving the room.

Severus was seating on his bed, wiping a tear after another. “Then kill him!” he thought. “I hope he dies.” He felt anger rising in him, so he put his head under the pillow and screamed as loud as he could. He always did whenever he didn’t feel in control of his emotions. He heard his father’s voice in the next room. “Why you’re up so early, if you wake me up again, I swear I’m going to break your nose this time.”  

He got dressed and jumped out of the little window in his room. He knew that the sight of him would only anger his father, it would only create problems for his mom.

Sometimes, when things were bad at home, he left for a few days, without eating, without changing, sleeping in the woods. Now summer was coming and it would get easier to hide.  No one seemed to care whenever he was gone. His mother was glad that he doesn’t annoy his father with his presence, after a few days, he would show up and she will pretend not to notice that he was gone. Because in the end of the day, it is better for everyone with him being gone, always.

[infinitegalahad]

hello! i wanna request another thing because i will never let u sleep :). maybe an enemies to lovers type thing with safin where both of you and he are assassins and are always paired together for missions despite the fact that u hate each other? also i absolutely adored that last fic u did for me. thanks!

Incorrigible 

Pairing: Safin x Gender neutral! Reader

Summary: (of a person or their tendencies) not able to be corrected, improved, or reformed.

Word-Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Minor blood description

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! This is actually two other requests combined from @the-urban-misfits​ and @thisuserlikesmarvel28​ !! Of course, you will never let me sleep! Sleep is for the weak, but I am weak. I’m so upset about the NTTD delay! All I wanted was some Safin content🥺 But thank god fanfiction is here! This is purely speculation on the character. If NTTD won’t come out, then I will WRITE that film myself. Anyways, sorry for the rant. Hope you enjoy this! I love the requests you guys send in❣️✨

Masterlist

“Incoming target. She’s wearing a red dress. Safin and y/n, keep your ground.”

The Beirut sunburned onto your black turtleneck. It was humid in the toxin-filled city. The chatter and honking from the busy city streets came from below. After hours of waiting on a rooftop, the quartermaster had finally broken his silence. Your eyes glanced towards Safin, who straightened his position. For the long hours you had been in the sun, Safin hadn’t moved from his position.

He was leaned up against a creme wall in shade to conceal his appearance. Drops of sweat peered down his scarred skin. Like you, he wore a dark turtleneck neatly tucked in his dark cargo pants. The heat and hours of boredom had gotten to the both of you. His neatly gelled hair was becoming disheveled as small little curls stuck to his skin.

You had gotten distracted before his accented voice interrupted you.

“What are you looking at?”

Blinking your eyes, you eased yourself into a position. Closing one eye, your finger squeezed the trigger. It was a busy crowd, full of commotion. “Nothing.”

“I cannot believe I am stuck babysitting a child.” He coldly muttered.

It took you a second to decipher his words. Upon understanding them, a wave of anger surged in you. You were hot and bothered. The last thing you wanted was to be ridiculed.

“Excuse me?”

Safin stayed silent. His finger covered his ear to listen to the static noise from his earpiece.

“Must I repeat myself?” Safin groaned. “No matter what mission, Blofield always throws you with me. Everything you touch turns to chaos. He thinks of me as a babysitter.”

It was a dumb idea. Looking away for a second, you turn to scold him. Just as you opened your mouth, Safin placed his finger onto your lip. He pressed down onto it. His skin was wrinkly and scared; harsh against your soft lips. He had no idea how livid you were.

Moving his finger with your hand, you hissed. “Don’t shush m-”

“What do you not understand? Be quiet.”

Safin seemed distracted as he aimed his weapon downwards. You weren’t thinking in the moment. All you felt was raw, utter rage.

“No! I’m sick of you telling me to b-”

Out of nowhere, there was a reign of bullets. You could see thousands behind Safin. Dropping his weapon, he lunged towards you. His arms wrapped around you as he covered you for shelter behind a crate. A pained groan escaped his mouth. The line of bullets continued for what seemed like forever before they clammed down. Safin’s heavy body laid on you, weighing you down.

As the bullets stopped, you could hear men in the back yelling in a foreign language. They were your enemies. Looking up, you shook Safin. His face was buried in your shoulder. As you shook him, you moved your hand up to show a red sticky liquid.

Safin had been shot.

Not only did you have someone dying on you, but now you had a group of men trying to kill you. Your trusted rifle had been pushed to the side; it was too risque to grab it without being shot. Patting Safin’s back, you pulled a Walther PPK out of his pocket. To why he had this confused you, but it was all you had.

Gently pushing Safin off of you, you titled your head upwards and began to shoot. After hitting a few men, more yelling and bullets were fired. After much back and forth, you had managed to kill all of the men. There was a small silence as you sat there, sweat dripping down your face as your breaths were heavy. You could hear the own beat of your heart pumping in your armor cladded chest.

The small amount of silence you had was interrupted by a groan. Turning over, it was none other than Safin. He had managed to take off his jacket and armor showing off his scarred chest. A bullet had gone clean through his upper back. A small puddle of blood was beginning to form. Shoving the Walther PPK into the belt of your pants, you ran towards Safin roll his body over.

“You are incorrigible!” Safin ranted, looking up at you with anger. He tried to sound mean, but he was in pain. Holding back an eye roll, you simply ignored him. Ripping a piece of your turtleneck, you applied pressure on his wound. Safin tried to hold back a pained moan, but couldn’t.

“That hurts!”

“Hold still, then.” You shushed. Leaning into your earpiece, you stated. “Anyone there? Safin is injured. I need medical detail. I repeat, Safin is injured.”

“Bring him down to the bay. I’ll have Primo pick you up in a black range rover.”

Muttering a small “fuck”, you wrap your arm around Safin and pull him up. Hearing his small moans of pain made you roll your eyes. As you dragged him towards the door, Safin titled his head to look at you.

“Thank you, y/n.”

“What?” Looking into his milky eyes, you couldn’t understand his low statement. You were still shaken from the previous events.

“I said, thank you. For saving my life.”

You were caught off guard by his words. Nearly stumbling over your own feet, you turn to look at him. Instead of having a serious face on, Safin looks exhausted and hurt. Was he being genuine?

“Your welcome, Safin.”

Walking out of the building, Primo awaited for the two of you. He was surprised to see you, a newbie in Spectre, carrying out one of their best assassins. Primo had walked over and helped Safin into the car. Closing the car door, Primo had started the drive to whenever Spectre had sent you.

You were exhausted. Eight hours in the Beirut sun was unenjoyable. Not only was it humid, but you had nearly been killed. If it hadn’t been for Safin’s warning and his hidden weapon, maybe you wouldn’t have survived. As much as you despised him, Safin had saved your life and you had saved his. An eye for an eye.

Not once did you complain about Safin leaning his head onto your shoulder. His thigh grazed against your thigh as he gently breathed into your shoulder. You looked over, taken back. Instead of pushing his head off, you rested your head onto his. As you slightly shifted into a more relaxed position, your eyes began to shut as the light faded away. All of your anxiety and worries had gone away.

Everything was at peace again.

[captain-josslett]

Broken Melody - Part Two

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven,

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 3k+

Warnings: None... yet… Maybe need a filling for all the fluff I wrote in this part through...

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor (Eventual)

In This Part: Emma and Lena spend some time together. It’s not a date, even though they both wish it is.

The angst still hasn’t happened yet! Got probably two more parts to write before things get angsty! 

As always B!D is named.

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated.

Taglist: @thewitchandtheassassin , @natasha-danvers , @life-is-hella-unfair , @finleyfray​, @supergirl-writingz​

Emma Danvers is happily playing on her Playstation, munching on popcorn and having some much needed rest time. The band are having a break from the farewell sold out world tour. With the holidays coming up they decided to split the tour up to allow them time with their families. The last part will be around America after the New Year. The last gig happening in National City, where their first major gig happened. Emma pushed this idea, finding it quite poetic to finish with the band in the place it all accelerated for them.

Emma didn’t mind the over a month long break. It meant she was home for Thanksgiving and spending more time hanging out with her sister’s, friends and Lena.

Speaking of Lena, the first thing Emma did when she was back in National City was to surprise the CEO on her birthday. She took her best friend to all their favourite hang outs that had a gift at each place until leading Lena back to her apartment where the Superfriend’s were waiting to celebrate with her. By the end of the day Lena was a tearful mess and thanked Emma as she held onto the blonde in a tight hug. 

Emma smiles at the memory and her eyes quickly look at the clock above the huge tv. They had planned to have dinner together tonight as recently Lena has been so busy planning Gala’s and Charity events as well as her CEO job, Lena hasn’t had much time to meet her friend individually.

Seeing it was time to get ready Emma smiles, saves the game and turns everything off. She gets up and bounces into her bedroom to change into some smart casual clothes.  

Quickly looking through her walk in wardrobe Emma picks out her favourite deep blue skinny jeans that make her legs and ass look incredible. A white lace shell top under a red blazer and black high heels. She finishes the outfit off with her layered necklace, a leather wrap around bracelet and natural looking makeup. She pulls her hair out of the high ponytail and lets her naturally wavy blonde hair fall around her shoulders.

Looking herself over in the mirror Emma nods and grabs her green clutch. Placing her keys, small journal and phone inside. Making her way down to the bug Emma hums a song she’s working on, but, as always, it’s not quite there yet.

Soon she pulls into L-Corp’s garage, the security guard waving her through. She parks in Lena’s space and gets out.

“Hi Miss Danvers!” The security guard calls and waves at her.

“Hi David!” Emma calls back as she locks the bug. She waves and smiles at him as she makes her way to the elevator.

When the elevator doors slide open Emma steps inside and presses the button for the top floor where Lena’s office is. Her phone pings inside her clutch and Emma gets it out. Smiling at the message Kara sent to the Danvers sisters group chat.

Kara: I hope you and Lena have a nice time tonight!

Emma goes to respond but a message from Alex appears below Kara’s.

Alex: Traitor.

Kara: What did I do?

Alex: Not you! Emma! It’s sister night!

Emma: Aww I’m sorry Alex, but this was the only evening Lena had free. I promise to make it up to you.

Alex: How?

Emma: Anything you want.

Kara: Yea I’m actually a bit annoyed too!

Emma snorts with laughter at Kara’s message. The doors slide open and Emma slowly exits the elevator as she composes her next text.

Emma: Same goes for you Kara. Also, here’s an idea… Why don’t you both meet up? *Le Gasp!*

Alex: Kara, I’ll be round in 30 mins!

Kara: Bring Potstickers please!

Alex: Already ordered!

Alex: Have a great evening Peanut!

Emma: Thanks! You too! Love you!

Kara: Love you too! (followed by hundreds of emoji’s that widens Emma’s smile.)

Alex: Love you too! (followed by a red heart emoji and means just as much to Emma.)

“Are you planning on coming in?” Lena’s bemused voice calls out.

Emma looks up and realises she stopped in the open doorway of Lena’s office.

“Meh, I’m okay here.” Emma cheekily says and hovers for a few seconds before approaching Lena’s desk.

The raven haired beauty smirks at her before looking down at the papers she was signing. Emma’s eyes wander over Lena’s torso, mainly her chest. How the off the shoulder black dress fits in all the right places. Emma can’t wait to see it fully when Lena stands. In the meantime, Emma goes right up to Lena and hugs her from behind.

“Hi.” Emma whispers and feels a sudden urge to kiss Lena’s neck and back, which is on show due to Lena’s high ponytail and the off the shoulder dress. It takes everything in her to not look down at Lena’s chest.

“Hi.” Lena responds in a breathy voice, almost like she senses what Emma is feeling. “I’m almost done.”

“Take your time.” Emma gives Lena a squeeze before pulling away and stepping out onto the balcony.

Lena’s hand moves swiftly across the pages as she signs the last of the papers for the Christmas Charity Concert L-Corp is organising for the Luthor Children’s Hospital next week.

When she’s finished Lena gathers them up in a neat pile and rises from her chair. She looks around her office to see where Emma is and pauses when she finds her on the balcony, looking out at the city. Lena can’t help but gaze up and down Emma’s toned body. When her eyes land on Emma’s shapely ass, she bites her lip slightly. But when Lena realises where her thoughts are going she quickly shakes her head and turns away, grabbing her handbag and clearing her throat.

“Ready to go?” Emma’s voice says behind her.

“Yes!” Lena says over her shoulder. “All done.”

“Great!” Emma walks up to Lena’s desk, her eyes going up and down as she takes in all of Lena. She goes to walk out of the office but is stopped by Lena’s hand on her shoulder.

“Can I have a proper hug now?” Lena smiles brightly at the blonde.

“Of course you can!” Emma wraps her arms around the CEO. Sighing happily when Lena’s arms do the same. “You seriously give the best hugs.”

“Don’t let your sister’s hear you say that!” Lena laughs into Emma’s neck, causing the blonde to shiver.

“Yea, they’d both have a fit!” Emma chuckles as she pulls away. She holds out her arm for Lena to take and they exit the office. “How’s your day been?” Emma asks while they walk to the elevator.

Lena sighs heavily as she presses the call button.

“That good huh?”

“Well, it's recently gotten a lot better.” Lena squeezes Emma’s arm. Her eyebrows almost shoot up when she feels the muscle underneath. She knows Emma is fit, but not that fit. The doors slide open stopping her train of thought and they both enter. Lena lets go and Emma leans against the side of the elevator, looking at her friend.

“Yea must be such a relief finishing for the day.”

“I meant seeing you, you dork.” Lena's smile widens when Emma throws back her head and laughs. Lena loves Emma’s voice but her laugh is pure magic. She could listen to it for days.

“I’m honoured. Seeing you has been the highlight of mine too.”

“But the night is still young.” Lena tilts her head.

“I can’t imagine anything that can top you.”

‘I wish you would.’ Lena thinks, almost biting her lip again. “What if the restaurant has Creme Brûlée?” She chooses to say instead.

Emma pouts her lips, as if deep in thought.

“Arse.” Lena shoves Emma’s shoulder lightly causing the blonde to laugh again.

“I think it would come a close second to you.”

Lena’s insides melt at that comment and she smiles shyly.

The doors slide open and Emma holds her arm out again, walking with Lena to the bug. She opens the passenger door for her friend.

“My how gentlewomanly!” Lena slides in and Emma closes the door beside her.

‘Cool it Em!’ The blonde berates herself. ‘This is not a date.’ Emma gets into the driver’s seat and starts the bug. ‘Rao I wish it was a date.’

“So, how was your day? Other than seeing me being the highlight?” Lena asks as Emma pulls out of the garage, waving at the security guard as they pass.

“It was… okay?”

“Is that a statement or a question?”

“Er… I mean, I went for a 10k run and did some weight lifting. Worked a bit on a song, played Mass Effect.” Emma shrugs. “It’s been a very general day for me.”

“How you run 10k and do weights everyday is beyond me.”

“It’s fun!”

“If you say so darling.” Lena laughs and rolls her eyes.

“I do say so!” Emma laughs too. “But I do have recovery days as well.”

A noticeable drum beat starts on the radio and Emma whoops, recognising it as one of her current favourite songs. She turns the volume up high and dances along. Smiling brightly when Lena joins in. Not caring that people can see them when they wait at a red light.

A few do a double take as they walk past the bug and wave when they realise it is Emma in the yellow VW and Emma waves back with a smile. Generally fans in National City are respectable to Emma’s privacy and space. When fans do approach her Emma is always polite and will always give them her time. One such time she sat with an kind, eldery lady who had approached her while Emma was sat on a bench at the park. She gushed at how Emma’s music had helped her during the loss of her husband. Tears fell down her old cheeks and Emma gave her a tissue. The blonde listened to the many stories the eldery woman had and gave her a hug when they had to part ways.

Soon Emma and Lena pull up outside the restaurant and valet jumps to open Lena’s door. Emma reluctantly gets out to let the valet drive the bug to the parking area.

“The bug will be fine darling.” Lena says taking a hold of Emma’s hand as the blonde watches the yellow VW be driven away.

Emma weaves her fingers through Lena’s and smiles at her crush. Nodding she walks to the entrance and takes the elevator up to the top floors where the restaurant is.

“Ah! Ms. Luthor and Ms. Danvers! Welcome back!” The host greets them warmly before showing them to their favourite table in a secluded corner by the window. Emma especially loves the view. They are given the menus and the specials for the day. Emma quickly scans through but she already knows what she is ordering.

While they wait for the food the two women catch up. Chatting about anything and everything. Smiles permanently on their faces.

“So how’s things for the events going?” Emma asks while sipping on her Pepsi Max. She’s never been a lover of alcohol, seeing the effects it has on Alex and her peers put her off for life.

“It’s-” Lena pauses for a moment.

“Lee?” Emma frowns.

“Well, we’ve hit a bit of a road block.” Lena sits up a bit straighter. “You know the concert happening next week?”

Emma nods and she tilts her head. She’d already got her ticket with the Superfriends and was planning on anomalously donating a large sum of money to the children’s hospital.

“Well, the act had to pull out and I’m not sure where to find a replacement so quickly. I would ask you but I know this is your rest time and I completely respect that-”

“Lee!” Emma reaches out and takes a hold of Lena’s hand on top of the table. Lena’s cheeks start to blush, but she is blaming the red wine she is drinking. “Take a breath!” Lena does.

“Sorry, it’s just been a bit stressful.”

“I bet.” Emma says sympathetically. “But, I would love to help.”

“Really?”

“Of course! I know of a great gospel choir that could sing with me. Would actually be nice doing something different to country, you know?”

And Lena did know. Emma’s singing voice didn’t naturally have the country tone so she did have to add it in. Lena had been blown away one time when she heard Emma’s natural tone. She had been waiting for Emma to finish in the shower and she heard her voice singing out. Doing runs and riffs that had Lena’s jaw hitting the floor. Lena even got closer and stood by the door to listen better. When Lena heard Emma approach the door she quickly and quietly scurried away.

“Yes, would do you good to try something different too? For your solo career? Let the fans hear more of what you can do.”

“That’s if they want to hear it.” Emma looks away at the city below them, her insecurities bubbling to the surface.

“They would be fools not to Em.” Lena squeezes Emma’s hand and the blonde looks back at her.

“Thanks.” Emma gives Lena a small smile. The anxiety of stepping out into her solo career still worries her. “So-” Emma lets go of Lena’s hand and takes out the journal from her clutch. Opening it and clicking her pen. Her mind switching into work mode as she thinks about the concert. “What songs would you want in the set? And for how long? Do you want the audience to sing along? Will you give a speech?”

Lena pauses as she sips her wine. “Well… I guess the classics and no I don’t think the audience need to participate. It’s not a carol service. You have free rein other than it needs to be wrapping up around 9pm. A speech will be given, probably from someone from the hospital rather than me. Maybe ten or twelve songs, allowing the speech to be near the end and have an upbeat song to finish.”

“Okay.” Emma makes some notes and song ideas. She grins as a surge of excitement hits her. “Can I be a bit rude and message the lead of the choir, Karen?”

“You may. I mean I have dumped this on you.” Lena laughs and takes a sip of her wine while Emma gets her phone out.

“Er… Will the choir be paid?” Emma looks up at her. “I mean I can pay them, that’s no issue. Forget I said anything.”

“Em! It’s okay. And yes the choir will be paid. Ask them what they, Karen? Charges.”

Emma nods and quickly sends Karen a message. Who responds instantly in all capital letters that they will definitely perform with her at the concert and, in Emma’s opinion, quite a low price. Emma sends a message back confirming a time to meet the next day to go over ideas and songs. Already planning a set list in her head.

Lena watches Emma with a smile on her face. How Emma starts to radiate even more with her excitement.

The food soon arrives and like a true Danvers Emma digs right in.

“Oh Lee!” Emma moans, causing Lena’s brain to short circuit. “You need to try this!” Emma puts a piece of her food on her fork and holds it out for Lena. She watches as the raven haired beauty leans forward and slowly wraps her mouth around her fork. Emma swallows thickly when Lena moans too.

“That is delicious.” Lena agrees. “Do you want to taste mine?”

“Sure.” Emma waits for Lena to cut into the food and hold the fork out to her. And like Lena, Emma tilts forward, keeping her eyes on the raven haired beauty as she wraps her mouth around the fork. Emma can’t help the sound of pleasure that escapes her lips as she tastes the food. Closing her eyes briefly and when she opens them she swears she sees Lena biting her lip. “Wow, you made a good choice there.”

“I’m not sharing!” Lena laughs and starts eating again.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Emma says before digging in.

However they do share a Créme Brûlée and Lena has to clench her legs together when Emma sounds like she’s having a mouth orgasm with every bite.

“Okay, no, maybe this is the highlight of my day.” Emma says while licking the spoon and winking at a blushing Lena.

“I don’t know whether I should be offended or not.” Lena raises an eyebrow at the blonde.

“Nah, nothing compares to you Lena. You know that.”

The two women smile softly at each other before continuing their conquest of devouring the dessert.

When it’s time to leave Lena is having an intense tug of war with herself. She wants to come clean. To reveal to Emma that her feelings have gone deeper than friendship. As Emma drives her back to her apartment Lena wants to ask Emma to come up with her. But her past stops her from talking.

“Lee?” Emma notices how quiet Lena has gotten. “You okay?”

“Yea.” Lena says softly.

“You sure?” Emma presses further, knowing Lena is not fine.

“Yes, just tired I guess.”

“I bet you are!” Emma knows this is only partly the truth. Instead she drops it and gives Lena a sympathetic smile. “I really appreciate you spending time with me. I really do mean it when I say it's the highlight of my day, well week, even month! And I know how busy you are around this time of year, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome love.” Lena can’t deny the warmth that fills her heart. “It’s been the highlight of my month too.”

All too soon Emma is parked outside of Lena’s apartment building. “Well, thanks again. Shall I let you know the order of songs etc?”

Lena nods. “You can also send it to Jess as well.”

“Will do.” Emma smiles brightly and leans forward, opening her arms up for a hug. Lena happily falls into them. “Love you Lee.”

“Love you too Em.” ‘More than you’ll ever know.’

They sit like this for a while, just enjoying being in each other’s arms. Lena finally pulls away, knowing if she doesn’t go she will never leave.

“Good night.” She says while opening the door.

“Night. Sleep well!”

Lena is about to step out of the bug when she thinks ‘Fuck it!’ Lena leans back over to Emma and places a kiss on the corner of Emma’s mouth.“You too.” She quickly gets out of the car and enters the building. If she’d looked back she would have seen the brightest smile on Emma’s face as she watches her go.

(Part Three)

[straydawg-writing]

𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖊𝖙-𝖒𝖊-𝖓𝖔𝖙

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ ᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ.

• bungo stray dogs series

chapter 3: 𝖉𝖆𝖋𝖋𝖔𝖉𝖎𝖑 — 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌

✥ ⊱ ────── ♔ ────── ⊰ ✥

┊       ┊      ┊   ┊    ┊       

┊       ┊      ┊ ✫   ˚✩

┊       ┊      ✫

┊       ┊      

┊ ⊹     ☪︎⋆

✯ ⋆ 

˚✩

"COME IN."

it nearly took all of kita's might to push open the monstrous gothic-styled doors of the boss' office. as of late, mori had been assigning her more and more tasks that she readily accepted. she had nothing else to do, no other reason to live, except for dedicating herself to the port mafia.

daylight emanated from a long wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, brightening up the dark space and shining on the royal maroon carpet. ahead of her sat the boss, in all of his dignity and glory.

"you called?" kita began, standing tall when she spoke.

mori was not a man she wanted to appear frail in front of. kita was confident she would win over his trust and respect in due time, and was determined not to waste the chance he had given her when he had taken her in. as a woman in the port mafia, she had to work harder than anyone else to be taken seriously. many believed that she didn't belong there, but she was okay with that. after all, kita had no intention of being mixed with juvenile delinquent men.

"you did well on your last job. but of course, you know that i can't have you rest and let that eager spirit rot away."

"i'd expect that, boss. what did you have in mind?" kita asked, twiling a strand of black hair between her fingers.

"this job involves retrieving the marcello family's confidential files. they've attempted hiding a business of money laundering despite our... how should i say this? our 'small' warning example. the mission should be easy enough."

the sound of tall double doors parting open echoed throughout the room and interrupted kita's response. she felt the presence of someone else coming in, stopping only when they were right next to her.

"hey, boss."

"nice to see you dazai," mori greeted the boy, intertwining his hands and resting them on his desk.

dazai was here. why did she suddenly feel butterflies, when not even meeting the port mafia boss stirred nerves like these within her?

"i don't understand. if the mission is so easy, what is he doing here?" kita glanced his way, startled when she saw him staring back.

"did i forget to mention? although just one person is needed to steal the item, this mission requires two people. the marcello family enjoys their parties. you'll be infiltrating their next one, as an unsuspecting couple."

everything slowed down. kita was sure she misheard, mori's last words hanging on his lips and repeating in her mind like a mantra. go as a couple?

you could ask her to kill an army of men and it would be simpler than this. she had only just met him last night –no– it would be easier if she didn't know him at all.

"is that agreeable with you, kita?"

it wasn't like she had a choice, a job was an order in disguise. mori had that same look on his face that he pulled whenever he was picking out a new babydoll dress for elise. the man was up to something, and she wasn't sure how to feel.

"sounds good to me!" dazai answered for her, shoving his hands in his pockets.

then it was settled. looking towards the bandaged boy, kita shook off her wariness and cracked a smile. she wouldn't mind getting to know him better.

"alright. how bad could it be?"

-

kita's mirror reflection stared back at her, beauteous and sweet. a silk black dress hung daintily on her hips, and a laced corset traced her curves. ringlets of jet-black hair spilled over her collarbones, the midnight shades creating a striking contrast with her ivory pearl skin that was spellbinding. she sighed as she closed the drawer which held her lipstick. despite her natural desire to stand out in a crowd, kita knew that tonight she would be dressing to blend in. still, she couldn't help but ask herself in the back of her mind if she was dressing to impress.

'it's just a mission. just a mission. just a mission,' she told herself as she twisted open the doorknob of her room. little did she expect to see the man himself, standing right outside of her bedroom door.

"how long have you been standing there?" she rested her hand on her hip, pursing her lips.

"from my perspective, it looks like you were the one waiting for me to get here," dazai said, holding out a single red camellia flower.

"'you're a flame in my heart', huh?" kita observed, taking the flower in her pale hands.

"is that a confession?" he asked, with a cheeky grin.

oh, so he's a flirt.

"that's just what the flower means, stupid."

she took this chance to take in the sight of him. his hair was the same as always –tousled chocolate locks falling over his sweetly intense brown eyes– and you were glad he hadn't changed it. dazai's usual bandages were covered up by the sleeves of his black slate tux. the suit looked made for him, fitting his body perfectly in every crevice. you had to admit, dazai looked a little bit handsome.

"i know, i asked chuuya. who knew he spoke flowers too? although... he did try starting a fight in the middle of the courtyard, calling me an 'enemy of all women,'" dazai pouted, making finger quotations before he quickly changed moods again. it was something she had noticed he seemed to do often. his playful eyes were now dripping with a more flirtatious undertone.

"the boss ordered us to personate two fiances madly in love. so... let's play the part, shall we?" dazai mischievously bowed down to her height, gently taking kita's small hand in his and leaving a kiss on her smooth skin. he knew he had caught her in his trap- she couldn't argue with the boss himself.

kita let out a small exhale, interlacing his hands with her own.

"fine, you win. but drop the 'madly in love.'."

-

"mr. and mrs. iwazaki-to-be?" the doorman asked for confirmation, with a paper and quill to cross off guest names.

"that's us!" dazai enthusiastically expressed with an arm around kita, placing a kiss on her temple to sell the act.

the doorman, who seemed to be in his late sixties, looked up from his paper and sent the pair a warming smile.

"i miss my girl every day... congratulations." he held up his ring finger to show them, and motioned for them to join the party. "enjoy the night!"

the pair entered the party through a towering marbled creme archway. space had opened up to accommodate a grand scene of painted people with most likely debatable motives, drinking from their champagne glasses and dancing to a luxurious orchestra. a waft of expensive colognes and perfumes flooded their senses. it smelt like the rich. businessmen stroke deals, wives exchanged the newest slice of gossip, and old men watched from the sidelines, whistling for girls in their royal dresses of all colors.

kita suddenly developed an appreciation for not having come alone. the fake engagement ring decorating her ring finger marked her as claimed. in other words: kept the old, perverted, corrupted politicians away. not as if she couldn't beat them to a pulp if need be.

a large marble staircase that matched the entrance winded the perimeter of the main floor, leading up to the room which held their files. but for now, their foremost concern was appearing ordinary, becoming like everybody else of the night. to play the part of the happy-go-lucky-couple-in-love.

the boss had asked her first. this was her mission.

grabbing dazai by the chin who was distracted by the red-velvet cupcakes on display, kita turned his face down to look at her.

"dance with me."

"okey. but yowr sqwuisching mey fasce," dazai replied, face indeed squished as his lips were forced into a pout. she let go with a grin, satisfied with his response.

maneuvering through men in studded suits and women in extravagant dresses that took up half of the floor, a new waltz had begun by the time she pulled him onto the dance floor with her.

"i forgot to tell you earlier, but you clean up really nicely, dazai." kita commented, her arms loosely tangled around his neck.

they turned elegantly, in tune with the slow music, and standing closer than ever before. kita could feel his breath on her skin as he held her waist. this close to him, his natural scent was intoxicating. he was rich, like caramel. a breath of fresh air from the sea of headache-inducing colognes. if by the end of this dance, her breath was taken away, she would know why.

"you look... irresistible," dazai's eyes widened slightly. he kept his attention on her as he whimsically guided the girl across the dance floor, taking her anywhere he pleased– and she let him. no matter what dazai did, he always had the same fanciful air about him. even now, she felt he was taking her into a dream.

the warmth between them continued to increase, along with their rising heartbeats, until the song had faded into the distance and the only thing that mattered was their steps in sync, their breathing one.

'it's all an act.'

"let's find a room upstairs," he whispered in her ear, pulling her out of the crowd and up the staircase once the song had ended.

any guests attending the event were too engrossed in their own party and pleasure to notice them disappear. from where kita stood, she could see them all dancing like porcelain dolls in a make-believe show.

"this one." dazai pointed, opening a door with a plaque that read, 'j. marcello's office.'

time was of the essence, and yet dazai didn't seem the least bit concerned as he strolled over to the mahogany desk that sat underneath a window. he opened one drawer in particular with a mass of cigarettes the owner had never bothered throwing out, and tossed them all into the trash can.

"if he wants to meet his end with an insufferable death, this'll do it." dazai tsked and shook his head as he tossed another one behind him and scored. "couldn't ever be me..."

"don't you think he'll notice?"

"he'll also notice when his papers are gone. i'm simply doing him a favor~" dazai chuckled.

kita was digging through files and trying to distract herself from the taller male as much as possible, ever since the dance they shared so intimately lingered in her mind. she was so distracted that she didn't hear the sudden sound of a door opening, and just as quickly as the door opened, she had been pulled into dazai's embrace and leaned over the desk.

his soft lips crashed into hers, causing an obvious expression of surpise as she felt his warm hands riding up the side of her face, the other arm leaning on the desk behind her and trapping her underneath him– but she guessed it was only to give the mysterious person the wrong idea.

she only hesitated for a moment before kissing him back, going along with the act as she pulled on his tie to regain her balance. the kiss barely lasted about five seconds, but to kita it felt like an eternity. his kiss was so sudden she had already ran out of breath and was running on nothing at all but his own oxygen.

"s-sorry! you can't be in here!" an embarrassed voice called out, shutting the door as soon as it had opened.

when the door had closed, dazai swiftly released his hold on her.

"all that and still no files," he sighed, scratching his head.

"you sure about that?" kita smirked, running her tongue over the lingering taste of sugar-coated lips. peaking from behind her back was a folder that she had stolen from the drawer's hidden compartment.

"kita! oh i could kiss you," dazai's mouth opened in childish awe. if this were an animation, his eyes would have sparkled.

"you already did. guess you couldn't resist huh?"

"aren't you the one who kissed me back?" he raised an eyebrow.

"touché," she clicked her tongue, rolling the folder and hiding it in her bra while walking out of the room with dazai in tow.

"wow, you can fit that in there?" he pondered out loud.

"of course i ca-" she began, before being cut off by a horde of men in black suits, guns pointed.

"IT'S THEM! don't even TRY letting them escape," a voice boomed, with a round of gunshots firing all around them soon after.

kita sighed, uninterested in the new turn of events. she could use her ability now, but it wasn't worth it. they had gotten what they came for, so whatever happened now was of no concern to her. dazai slowly turned around, eyes coming to an emotionless standstill as he allowed the bullets their chance to plunge into him, but always missing.

"geez, your aim sucks." kita stated, pulling her own knife out of a leg garter that hid underneath her dress and sending it piercing through the cheeks of a full line of men.

they dropped, guns casting across the floor. dazai blankly considered them before picking one up for himself.

"i hope you don't mind if i borrow this," he drawled, flipping it over in his hands before stretching out his arm in front of him and shooting the men left. he aimed to kill.

with that taken care of, kita bent down and plucked her knife out of the unfortunate victim's flesh. she wiped it off on the fabric of her black dress.

"p-please. don't kill me," the timid cry of a sole survivor pleaded for his life.

he was bowed to the ground, blood seeping through his suit and making it an impossibly darker shade of vantablack. what a shame he still lived.

with one look from dazai who lazily reached a hand for a crimson-red cupcake, he aimed and shot with the other.

the party was all but dead now.

in the midst of the bloodbath, dazai had taken a bite out of the dessert, and now white frosting dusted the tip of his nose like snowflakes. using her thumb, kita wiped the icing away and licked the sweetness off of her finger.

"hey!"

"you took too long to eat it!" she explained after stealing the cupcake away from him, eating the rest of it as as they stepped out from the bloodied marble walls and into the black of the darkened night.

｡✣✤✥━━━━━━━━━━━━✥✤✣｡

❝𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙲𝙾𝙻𝚈𝙿𝚂𝙴❞

1:05  ──♡────── 2:53

|◁              II             ▷|

— ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ, ᴍʏ ʟɪᴘꜱ, ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘꜱᴇ

ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ, ᴍʏ ʟɪᴘꜱ, ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘꜱᴇ

｡✣✤✥━━━━━━━━━━━━✥✤✣｡

[blueeyedgeorgie]

House Party-G.M

“Can you write something for George and reader dating and going to a party and maybe a drunk guy starts flirting with her and he steps in to save the day? “

Pairing: Memeulous x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k+

Taglist:

@daddydobrock​

_________

Y/n held a pair of heels in her hand. Tonight her and her boyfriend of eight months, George had planned to go out to a house party with a couple of their friends. "Babe, you ready to go?" George had looked up at Y/n from his phone. He had been waiting for her to finish getting ready. "Yeah," Y/n gave a small nod. She gently pulled down her dress, she was wearing a short black dress. Usually she wouldn't wear these types of dresses, her typical type of outfit would be leggings and an oversized T-shirt. "You alright?" George questioned, standing up from previously sitting on the couch. "Yeah, I just don't want a random nonce to try anything," Y/n let out a small sigh as she wrapped an arm around George's arm, pulling herself closer to him. "I promise no one will even get close to having the chance to try and pull something on you," George gave a small smile. The house party had already begun and of course, it was wild. Cars were parked un and down the street, while people were everywhere. It was hard for George to find a parking spot but finally, he managed to. "I'm gonna call up Will to see if the gang is here yet," George had pulled out his phone, beginning to pull up Will's contact. There had been a few moments of ringing before Will had finally picked up. "George, where are you?!" Will had practically shouted, trying to be heard over the loud music. "We've parked and are about to go in. Is anyone else at the party yet?" George had replied, pulling his phone away from his ear. Y/n let out a small giggle from George being slightly ear raped. George gave her a small smile, placing a hand on her thigh. "I have no clue what you've said, mate. You're gonna have to speak up!" Will had continued to shout, "Mia is here with me, I saw Alex a few moments ago. He said James was somewhere. We're waiting on you behind the house," Will continued to shout. "Alright, we're on our way," George had replied, raising his voice slightly. Just as Will was about to shout another 'What', George had hung up. The couple had walked up to the house with George's arm wrapped around Y/n's shoulder protectively. There had been plenty of times when George would be somewhere in public with his girlfriend, only for some men to try and pull stuff on her. Sometimes it'd be just a simple wolf whistle, having Y/n reply with a 'fuck off'.' Other times it could get to the point where a man would approach Y/n to ask for her number while she'd be holding George's hand. Soon enough, George and Y/n had finally made their way to the backyard of the building. Some people were in the pool, another group was playing beer pong. "There's Mia and Will!" Y/n shouted over the music, loud enough for George to hear her. George gave a small nod, taking Y/n's hand in his as they began to walk over to the other couple. "Ah, there's the two of you!" Will called out once he had spotted the brunette and h/c girl approaching him and his girlfriend, "Thought the pair of you would just ditch the party to shag!" "Will!" Mia scoffed, slapping a hand against his chest. "It's the honest truth!"  Will replied, slightly raising his hands in defense. "Whatever, Will," George had rolled his eyes. "Y/n, I'll go get us some drinks.' "I'll join you," Will commented. "Alright, be quick," Y/n smiled. "No promises!" Will replied, already pulling his friend away. Y/n let out a small giggle, turning to Mia. "Mia! How've you been?!" "I've been doing well, Y/n! What about you?!" Mia replied, giving Y/n a hug. "I've been great! I love your outfit!" Y/n spoke loud enough for Mia to hear her. Mia was wearing a creme white dress that fitted her perfectly. "Really?! Your outfit is much better than mine!" Mia responded with a smile. The girls had continued their conversation for a couple of minutes talking about everything that had been going on in each other's lives. "Hey, beautiful," someone had grabbed onto Y/n's waist, pulling her closer to the person. Y/n looked over to see a tall man, his breath smelled of booze. "No thank you," Y/n scoffed, smacking at the man's hands that were placed on Y/n's waist. "Come on, let's head into a bedroom. Better yet, let's get into my car for some fun," The man smirked as he used one of his hands to grab onto a wrist of one of Y/n's arm. Y/n glanced over to see Mia was gone. Fuck. "What do you not understand about no?!" Y/n spat, she was getting angry now. "Shut up, why don't you? How do you don't realize you want any of this, you slut?" The man snarled. His grip on Y/n's wrist tightened, causing Y/n to flinch from the pain. At this point, the man had begun to pull Y/n towards the side gate, putting Y/n into panic mode. "What did you just call my girlfriend?" Y/n looked behind her to see an angry blue-eyed brunette. Y/n smiled, 'my girlfriend.' She loved hearing that, especially in this type of situation. "Excuse me?" The drunk man had mumbled, a look of anger coming across his face. "You heard me," George practically snarled, stepping closer. "Let go of her this instant and maybe I won't consider beating your arse." "Beating my arse?" The drunk man had scoffed, shoving Y/n to the ground. Y/n had fallen on her arse with a soft noise escaping her mouth as she had contact with the ground. "You're just a pathetic little man." George was fuming, he was beyond mad. The fact that this drunk man whore thought he could push his sweet girlfriend around like that, then make a low blow comment on his height was disgusting. George had swiftly raised a fist, about to launch it off into the man's face. Just as he was about to give a swift punch, something stopped him. "Georgie-Please don't." George turned to see Y/n, who was still sitting on the ground, "He isn't worth it. Let's just go enjoy the rest of the party together." "Fine, let's go, babe," George let out a sigh as he placed out a hand to help Y/n back up. Just as The couple had begun to walk away, something happened. "That's right! Listen to your girlfriend! You pussy!" George frozen, biting his lip as he looked ahead. He was still pissed over what that rat was saying about the h/c girl standing next to him. "Calm it, I have an idea," Y/n smirked, looking up at her boyfriend. George glanced at her, only to be given a passionate kiss. Y/n turned to the side so that the man could see what was happening between the couple. Y/n directed George's hands to her arse, letting them hold onto her from there. George gently gave Y/n a squeeze as she finished kissing her boyfriend, only for Y/n to begin biting and nipping on George's neck. After a few moments of Y/n attacking a certain spot on George's neck, she pulled away to admire the work she had put in to create a decent-sized hickey that was visible of George's neck. George glanced over to the drunk man to see his mouth had hung open, a look of shock on his face. "Now let's get back to the gang, why don't we?" A playful smirk was on Y/n's face. "I'd much rather go home and fuck at this point," George replied, looking down at Y/n. "Oh trust me, we're having sex tonight," Y/n nodded. "But I want to find out where Mia got her shoes from first. So we'll be staying at this party for a bit, handsome." "Why can't you just text her later?" George let out a groan. "Because I also like going to parties every now and then," Y/n replied, beginning to pull her brunette boyfriend back towards the house. "You have a point," George commented. "Don't I always?" A smirk stayed on Y/n's face as Alex and Will began to approach the couple.

[highsviolets]

the sweet secrets of loving

summary: Obi-wan returns from deployment with a sweet surprise

word count: 1.8k+ (what)

cw: brief mention of war/deployment 

A/N:  after discussing Obi-Wan’s culinary abilities with @thespareoom​ and @obitwo​, this little one-shot popped into my head last night and it wouldn’t leave me alone. this is so soft and i just -- if you need me i will be yearning // shout out to @afogocado for finding this gif (if it’s yours pls lmk so I can credit you!)

the sweet secrets of loving, a fic by corellians-only 

Silver keys seemed to dance in your hand as you fumbled with the lock, the metal glaring in your face as they reflected the merciless fluorescent lights bearing down on you with foreboding.

After several agonizing moments spent twisting the key, trying to locate the elusive sweet spot that would permit access to your apartment, the stubborn thing acquiesced and the door swung open.

He was already there. A feeling like a soft summer breeze swept over you at the sight his buzzed auburn hair, his pride and authority etched into his shoulders like the precise stitching of his combat uniform still clinging to his back. He was staring out the window, and you could tell from the way his thumb curled around the unit insignia on his left ring finger that he was anxious.

“Darling?” you called out, mustering the last dredges of your willpower to not sprint to his side.You simply waited by the door, setting down the cumbersome black box of files your boss had insisted you take home this evening, no, really, it would be most helpful if you could compare the spring and fall mockups tonight. The box of responsibility rebounded off the hardwood floor and skidded slightly, blending in with the muffled closing of the door behind you.

It was no matter, anyway. The box had barely escaped the protective gaze of your fingers when he was pulling you into him. His head bowed down to nestle in the crook of your neck and you laughed as his fine hair tickled your cheek. You pressed a kiss to his sheared locks. “Hello, Obi-Wan,” you whispered, as though speaking any louder would bring a curse upon you both, would take him away from you again.

At the sound of his name, Obi-Wan straightened and took your face in his hands. His thumb drew angels across your cheekbones. “Darling,” he breathed. Aquamarine eyes met yours. It felt like getting caught in the hail — confusion, wonder, a homecoming of understanding, a bite of pain.

When the two of you video chat during his deployments, his eyes are always darker. They’re steel and iron and the reflection of your keys in the hallway and the torment of a sea during the storm as it fights against the waves.

Every time he comes home, they change. They become lighter, the way his body does without the Kevlar bulletproof vest.

When he looks at you like that — like the world would burn and he would still go to war to fight for you alone — your resolve shatters, the way a window must when his bullet crashes through its pane, searching for the sniper.

Your fingers grasp his wrists and tug at the end of his sleeve. The pink of your painted nails contrasts horribly with his camouflage, and the absurd thought makes you laugh even as he dips his head in acquaintance to your nonverbal command.

The first kiss is simple, like the routine act of walking from the metro to you apartment. Routine, familiar, but not unexciting. A expression of the vibrancy of life. Your lips meet his, like an embrace, and stay there for several long moments.

A second kiss, the third, the fourth: these are more demanding. The way his hands slip under diaphanous emerald silk tells you that this is more like a carefully timed assault. His mouth is precise and exacting, his tongue pushes back against your claims to dominance, his fingers press into skin and yours clutch at the unforgiving fabric of his uniform.

You disconnect and he smiles, a steady, even thing that shows his teeth. Even so, it threatens to split his face in two, and the dust that seems to be shedding from his laugh lines makes you wonder the last time he was truly happy.

But you ascend to your tiptoes and kiss his cheek and banish all thoughts of his deployment, at least for tonight. “C’mon, Obi-Wan.” You take his hand and start dragging him to the kitchen. “Let’s eat.”

____

It is not until later that evening that you discover his secret. Padding into the kitchen, you open the fridge to retrieve a new bottle of sparkling water when something strange caught your eye.

“Obi?” you say. The hike in your tone matches the spike in your anxiety and unease. “You didn’t happen to pick up some tofu in miso when you went to store earlier, did you? There’s uh —“ you pause, staring at the blob in apprehension — “something…weird in the fridge.”

“Ah.” He follows your path into the kitchen and steps behind you to better see the object in question. “I see you’ve found dessert. I wondered how long it would take.” Amusement colors his tone, and you turn your head to see a smirk decorating his lips.

“Oh.” The unassuming expression is the only thing that enters your vacuous mind, consumed by the strangeness of the oval-shaped yellow-and-caramel colored mass. You run your fingers through your hair — now freed from its stuffy updo — in an attempt to wrest some meaning back into your existence. “What, um, what is it?”

Obi-Wan extends his arms and catches you in an embrace from behind. “It’s a flan, darling!” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Obi-Wan squeezes your waist in excitement and you lean back into his chest, comforted that its soft cotton of an old t-shirt that greets you, rather than his fatigues.

“Oh.” Emptiness returns, and now the exoticism of the strange food is coupled with curious revulsion that Obi-Wan is so interested in something that seems so…unappealing.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and gently scoots you out of his path and puts the platter on the counter. You watch him as he gathers plates, washes fresh utensils, and meticulously cuts the thing, taking care to add extra sauce to each slice. He thrusts a plate at you. “Try it,” he urges.

You don’t like dessert. Never have. You’d rather eat something savory than something sweet, and after years of failed attempts, Obi-Wan has largely given up. But here he is, staring at you with those aquamarine eyes, practically begging you to try this foreign sweet treat.

So you do. The custard is smooth, like the silk of your top, and flecked with spots of intense vanilla flavoring. Caramel oozes into every bite, rich in tone and balancing the tenderness of the egg and sugar.

“Oh my god.” You meet his eyes, and you can tell he’s valiantly staving off another grin. He never presses his lips together like that otherwise. “This is — Obi, this is amazing. Like, vintage Chanel kind of amazing.”

He laughs aloud at your comparison, taking the two plates and reassuming his previous position on the couch.

“I’m glad to hear you enjoy it, sweetheart.” He erupts into another round of chuckles when you moan around the next bite.

“What did you say this is?” you point to the concoction with you spoon.

“Flan, dearest,” he says mildly, taking a bite himself. “Ah, you’re right, it did turn out rather well today. My mother would be proud.”

The statement gives you pause, and you set down your spoon. “Your mother? Wait — did you make this?”

Obi-wan looks at you, surprise evident in his half-smile and narrowed eyes. “Of course I did! Where did you think I got it?”

“I didn’t know you could bake!” The statement is bald, and childish, but you don’t care.

“How did you think all the cookies and tray bakes appeared, then?” He raises an eyebrow mischievously. There’s nothing he loves more than poking holes in your logic, especially when you cling to it so resolutely.

“Oh, I don’t know!” you splutter. “I suppose I thought you bought them, or something!” You throw him a mock glare. “Not my fault you never told me that you bake.”

He launches himself forward and drops a conciliatory kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’m very sorry, darling,” he says seriously, but there’s a twinkle in his eye so you shove him away from you. The gesture is playful and wondrous in its innocence, and for a moment you feel as though you are in university again, staying up late in the student lounge talking, long before uniforms and obligations and separations. You want to say something but the words get caught in your throat as you remember your promise to leave the boots behind. At least this one night.

“What is flan, anyway? When did you learn to make it?” you say instead, forcing the words out and taking another bite. The sweetness caresses the bitterness lingering in your mind.

“It’s a long story,” he says, shifting his gaze to the window.

You place an hand on his bare arm. “I want to hear it,” you say, and you do.

So he tells you. He tells you of his French mother spending her childhood summers across the Pyrenees in Spain, learning dishes like arroz con pollo and tortilla española and flan. The family cook become a grandmother to her, he says, and again he plays with the unit insignia on his ring and you know he misses his mother more than ever.

Flan became his mother’s speciality, he explains. He points to the sheen on the custard and talks about how his mother learned how to perfectly beat the eggs and how she favored the caramel sauce against the hard caramel on her native country’s creme brûlée and how the family cook in Spain gifted her with her very own flan pan when she was eighteen years old.

You ask him how he came to bake such things. He smiles again and despite its joy, your heart aches because you never knew. While his father was deployed, he would bake with his mother to keep her company, and she taught him tarte tatin alongside flan and the Bakewell tarts his father so enjoyed.

“It was how she told people she loved them,” he says with a shrug, finishing his portion. “She would bake for the other women whose husbands were deployed, or for the family next door, or for my best friend’s cousin’s birthday, or if I had a bad day at school there would be something sweet waiting for before I went to bed.” Obi-wan rests his head on his hand, considering. “I guess I’m the same way. I came home and I wanted to do something nice for you, to tell you I love you.”

“That’s awfully sweet of you, Obi.” The pun is bad and you both know it, but he laughs and kisses you anyway. He knows what you’re trying to say.

“I love you too,” you murmur against his mouth. “Will you bake me something tomorrow?”

“Darling,” he presses a kiss to the edge of your lips. “I will bake you something every single day if that is what makes you happy.”

And you say you want him to, because you want him to love you forever.