#love the way he crumples like a napkin

[daycourtofficial]

A Valentine’s Surprise

Summary: a member of the inner circle asks you to be their valentine, despite you being mated to someone else

Author’s note: this is pretty short, but I thought it’d be really cute and I love Nyx

“Excuse me, everyone.”

Everyone at the table stops their chatter as Nyx stands on his chair, his little voice unwaivering as he draws the attention of his family consisting of his parents, Cassian, Azriel, Nesta, Mor, and you.

“I have an announcement.”

You all look on in confusion and curiosity, wondering what the young prince would deem so important. He does this about once a week now - interrupting dinner to declare something to everyone. Last week it was to inform everyone that Cassian had farted next to his face, causing Cassian to argue, “it’s not my fault your face is at bum level.”

The night derailed from there, the warlord getting quite worked up over the accusations of a five year old until the two were wrestling on the floor.

Nyx clears his throat, looking to his mother for approval to continue. Feyre gives him a nod of encouragement, mouthing the words “go on” to him. He takes in a deep breath and says, “I’m in love.”

Feyre smiles at him, clearly aware of where his little speech is going. Rhys perks up, amusement in his eyes at Nyx’s confession. The table falls even more silent in curiosity. The princeling looks to you before continuing, “I love you, (y/n). Will you be my valentine?”

You spit out your wine, and Azriel’s hand that was covertly wrapped around your thigh tightens slightly. You grab your napkin, dabbing at the wine you spilled on your dress. You can’t help the smile on your face at how nervous Nyx looks, and you can’t hold back the grin as he winnows a rose into his hand, holding it out to you.

“Nyx, I’m honored that you would ask me.”

You try to figure out how to let the young prince down without telling everyone of your secret mateship with Azriel. The two of you were keeping your mating bond a secret because you didn’t want to deal with the ordeal it would cause and wanted the peace to navigate it. And then you two just kept delaying mentioning it.

Unfortunately for Nyx, the two of you had plans that evening to celebrate the holiday to hide out in a cabin and you wouldn’t want the little heir to ruin them.

“Why do you want me to be your valentine?”

Nyx smiles at you, “because I get all warm and fuzzy inside when I see you.”

Your face crumpled at his sweet words, his love for you showing in his toothy grin, a few teeth missing from his smile. The adorable spectacle makes you miss Cassian grumbling, “why doesn’t anyone ask me to be their valentine?”

“How can I say not to that adorable face?”

Azriel’s grip tightens, and you place your hand on top of his, gently rubbing it. Reminding him that his instincts can calm down over a five year old.

“What does being your valentine entail, sweet Nyx?”

The little boy’s wings flutter at your attention, “we’ll have ice cream!”

“I like ice cream. Is that all?”

He preens under your gaze, looking exactly the way his father does whenever Feyre looks at him affectionately. He leans in conspiratorially, covering his mouth with his hand that does nothing to keep his words from being heard by everyone, before whispering, “you can hold my hand through Velaris.”

“Nyx I wonder if our darling (y/n) has other valentine’s plans.”

Nyx looks to you, heartbreak on his tiny face that the woman he loved would dare see another male. Azriel shoots daggers over your head at his brother, realizing the two of you hadn’t been as secretive as you thought at Rhys’s feline grin. Rhys mocks a toast of his glass towards you two, causing Az’s scowl to deepen.

“Well Nyx, nobody’s asked to take me out for ice cream on Valentine’s day, so I will be more than glad to go with you to get ice cream.”

The little boy beamed the rest of the evening, and as he totted off to bed he was telling his father all about what he was going to wear when you two went out. He even gave you a color scheme so your outfits could coordinate.

You and Azriel retired separately, so as not to raise suspicions. You were brushing your hair at your vanity when his shadows allowed him to emerge in your room, where he immediately began walking towards you.

Meeting your gaze in the mirror, his eyes are full of amusement, thinking about how he has to share the woman he loves, his mate, with a child he could drop kick into the clouds.

“You are stunning, my dear, surely you must have plans for Valentine’s Day?”

He starts kissing your cheek, making his way down your neck, causing you to giggle while you reply, “I have plans with another male for the afternoon on Valentine’s day, but I suppose I could pencil you in while he’s taking his nap.”

[pseudowho]

How well do you think Nanami Kento would handle eating spicy food? What would his reaction be towards his girlfriend/wife who LOVES spicy food?

Domestic Bliss: Nanami Kento #6, Spicy

"Hey, Kento," you whispered conspiratorially into his shoulder, nuzzling him from behind, "that new ramen place just opened round the corner. I hear they have the biggest range of hot sauces going. Big. Huge. International."

Your bad impression earned you a scowl.

"And you want to try them," Kento intoned, flat as he flipped through his newspaper, "I assume."

You draped yourself over the armchair, pushing his newspaper away with your feet. Kento grumbled, trying to avoid their push, until his newspaper crumpled, and he rolled it up, hitting you with it while you laughed.

"I'd love to go," you sighed, dramatic, "but I know you can't handle spicy food." Kento's eyes narrowed.

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, I never see you eat it."

"Because most extra spicy food relies on it being hot as its main point of attraction. I prefer my flavour palate to be a bit more sophisticated." Kento's eyes narrowed again, swiping over you. "Like my women."

"Ouch, Kento."

Kento reached into his pocket, the ghost of a smile on his mouth. "Silly games win silly prizes." He tapped on his phone. He was silent for a moment.

"Table's booked for 7pm. So you can eat spicy food, to your heart's desire...my love."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Pushing through the chest-level curtain, you and Kento were greeted by a bustling restaurant, vibrant, and enjoying its early success. Your mouth watered as a hot, umami rush of air hit your nose. You smiled, excited, not noticing how Kento read your every move, fizzing with your joy.

Perusing the menu in your intimate corner booth, you noticed the dishes were arranged in order of spice. You leaned over, pointing to Kento's menu.

"This is your side of the menu, darling..." You gestured to one side of the booklet, "...and this is mine." Kento pinched the sides of your knee under the table, smiling lightly, ungoadable.

When the waiter arrived, you requested a bowl of the spiciest ramen listed.

"We have extra hot sauces, too," offered the waiter, "if you like a challenge."

"Perhaps your top five hottest?" You requested, handing the menu back to the waiter, teasing Kento. "And a big glass of milk for my boyfriend."

"That won't be necessary." Kento replied, clipped. "I'll have the same as her, thank you." Your nose flared; a competitive edge.

"You don't have to buy it just because I do, Kento."

"I know that." He hummed, leaning back into his chair, his hands clasped over crossed legs. "But it seems we have some...misunderstandings to address."

Your ramen arrived. Its colour cried Danger. Tree frogs of its exact hue were known to cause certain death, and the hot sauces arrived in a rainbow most often seen in government-approved public warning announcements. Kento gave you a warm smile, chuckling as you snapped and rolled your chopsticks with gusto.

You took a noisy slurp of your noodles, Kento following suit. The heat was slow to build, but by your third slurp of noodles, your mouth thrummed with fire, climbing up your nose and filling your sinuses. You sniffled, laughing and dabbing your mouth with a napkin.

"Wow, they really weren't joking," you laughed, burning from the inside, in a way that was almost too much, "that really is spicy." Kento raised his eyebrows, seemingly unaffected. He reached for the first hot sauce.

"Is it?" He asked, mildly. "I think it could use a little something, actually." Kento splashed his ramen with hot sauce, enthusiastic, and offered you some. With a smile, and a nod, he did the same to your ramen.

"I don't see much difference, to be honest," you lied, the ramen now significantly spicier. You blinked the tears from your eyes as Kento patted your hand sympathetically. With a wan little smile, Kento reached immediately for the third hottest sauce, splashing it onto his ramen.

"Let's cut out the middle man, shall we?" Kento joked, squeezing your thigh affectionately under the table. You were starting to consider that you may have fucked up your last upfuck. You didn't stop Kento as he offered you the hot sauce, splashing a thin, acrid red glaze into your ramen.

The fumes hit you as you leaned over your bowl, and you coughed involuntarily. Kento shook more hot sauce onto his egg, slurping it up with a delighted hum.

"Eat up." He pressed. "It'll get cold." You took a hesitant bite of pork that didn't seem to have too much hot sauce on it. You were wrong. You must have swallowed lava, you thought, your eyes flickering over the restaurant as you chewed, as if someone could help you. Spluttering and praying for escape, you knew you would never live this down with your new lover if you threw in the towel.

"In fact, mine does seem to have cooled down a bit." Kento reached for the hottest of the hot sauces, in an unassuming little bottle with a skull and crossbones on the front. You were on fire, and nodded with tears flowing down your face, sweating, red, and coughing, when Kento offered you some. He was ever the gentleman, never pouring the sauce on your food until you accepted.

Kento was exceptionally uncrumpled, his navy dress shirt still just as pressed as it had been in the morning, his hair still neatly parted. Strands of yours stuck to the sweat in your forehead, and in a delirious haze, you lifted your bowl to slurp the broth, desperate to end this hellish ordeal.

You briefly saw God, before plummeting to the deepest circle of hell. There was no heaven. Life was a lie. Existence was meaningless. You felt the flesh melt off your bones, knowing death was nigh. Your hands shook, your smouldering lips puffy, mascara on your cheeks. You sat with your head in your hands, having just drunk acid. You dared one look up towards Kento.

...who seemed delighted by his meal, paying the waiter, and rubbing your thigh with those warm, gentle hands.

"There are people waiting for our table, darling. We'll go, hmm? My place, or yours?"

Your mouth numb, slurring, you babbled; "Me at, er-- mine...you at-- at-- yours--" You would surely be spending the evening in a bath of milk, retching into the sink. Kento pressed a tender kiss to your sweaty forehead.

"You're right. I'm always tired after a good meal, too."

After being driven home, you spent the night in an oven, wondering if you would ever get over challenging Nanami Kento to such a stupid, unwinnable fight.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"How's that new girl of yours, huh, Nanamin? Managed to impress her yet?" Gojo called from outside the toilet stall, tapping away in his phone with that everfixed smile. A low, nauseated groan rumbled out from the stall.

"--I...think she might dump me actually." More groans of agony sounded from the toilet stall, with Kento within, trapped in Satan's grasp.

Gojo had your number, of course. You and he had been chatting for weeks. Gojo held down the Record button outside Kento's toilet stall, ready to send you Kento's anguished moans.

Nanami Kento couldn't stand spicy food. He'd never let you know that. Thankfully, he had a friend who would sell him out at any given opportunity.

[wicchyy]

—0.5 flipped ; james potter

sum: you’ve been obsessed with James since you met him, but he doesn’t feel nearly the same. then, he’s flipped.

warnings: James throwing his breakfast in the trash

notes: this was inspired by the movie ‘flipped’. delulu girls win!!! sorry for being a bit too long, this is different from my usual works !

These are all the things people know about James Potter; he’s a skilled quidditch player, one of the smartest students in your grade, a lightweight, and he can manage his time well between practice, classes, and parties.

But those things, they’re just surface stuff. These are what you know about James Potter; he has the most beautiful brown curls, hazel eyes that change between brown and green depending on the sunlight, a delirious laughter, and the most flirty drunk you’ve ever known.

Sirius introduced you to James during your second year. And since the moment you saw him, robes askew, chocolate smeared all over his cheeks, and glasses slanted on his face— you’ve been in love with him since.

Maybe it was love at first sight, the plausible explanation. Or perhaps it was obsession. Either way, you haven’t paid attention to anyone other than James Potter himself.

“Hey, Siri. Hi, Remus. Have either of you seen James? I thought you lot finished practice minutes ago.”

Sirius nodded, chewing down the rest of his waffles before replying. “Mhm. Doing extra rounds, Prongs looks a bit stressed on the field today.”

“Perfect!” You clapped your hands together, “I’ll just bring some breakfast down for him.”

“Actually, Y/n! I don’t think you should—“ Remus interferes.

“Don’t worry, Remus. I’ll be sure to get two waffles. I know he gets hungry after practice.”

Remus tried to protest again, but Sirius waved him off with a look that said ‘what can we even do to prevent it?’

…

In the middle of December, snow covers the Hogwarts ground. You’re careful as you hold onto the napkin that holds James’ breakfast. The quidditch field isn’t far off the castle grounds, so you make haste of your movements and quickly head to the entrance of the Gryffindor locker rooms.

“James?” You shout, stepping inside until you see the one and only locker door open and the curly headed boy lying on the wooden bench in the middle of the room.

He immediately stands up, the voice all too familiar for him to not flinch. “Y/n?”

You appear in front of him with a wide smile, grinning happily as you set the breakfast in front of him on the bench. “Hi! You didn’t come for breakfast so I asked Siri where you where and he mentioned you’re practicing extra by yourself. So I figure you’d be—“

“Y/n!” James shouts louder.

“.. So I figured you’d be hungry.” You finished, your voice lower this time like you’d been caught red handed at something.

“Thanks. But no thanks.” He smiles forcefully. He grabs at the napkins holding the waffles and two pieces of strawberry, crumpling it in his hands and aiming it for the big black bin at the corner of the room.

Of course it lands perfectly inside, and he huffs an angry breath as he takes in your flushed, ashamed look.

“Look, just like you noticed, I wasn’t at breakfast. Because I don’t want breakfast. I’m not in the mood, yeah, Y/l/n? And I don’t need you trailing after me like a lost fucking puppy you want to feed breakfast. I’m not your anything, understand?”

Harsh. His words struck you in the gut. Maybe you should’ve listened to Remus earlier. James had never been practicing late unless he was ordered to. And you should’ve remembered it was winter as well. No one would willingly practice more quidditch than required in the harsh December winds.

“I— I’m sorry.” Your face flushed. You had to admit, you’d never been so embarrassed quite like this moment before. “I thought it’d be a nice thing.”

James stood up, picking up his towel, a spare shirt, and his knit beanie and stuck it in his locker before banging it roughly.

“If I haven’t made myself clear all these years, Y/n, let me make it clearer. I’m not interested.” He scoffed. “And I won’t be fucking interested because you bought me breakfast.”

You were left standing in embarrassment. Your eye making contact just a second with James, then to the bin where the breakfast you had bought for him was thrown in.

“Just back off, Y/n. I mean in.”

…

James had been feeling pretty guilty for the whole week. Yes, he was annoyed by you at the moment and yes, he’s always been annoyed by you. But all the times he’s ever been annoyed with you, none of those times has he said something like that. And after careful realisation, he’s understood that his words may have hurt you a tad bit.

He wants to apologize, but he doesn’t know how. Especially not to you. So he doesn’t. James doesn’t apologize for weeks, and then a month, and then he finally comes to terms with the fact that his brain somehow misses your annoying face, your annoying voice, and your annoying personality always annoying him.

“I have a question.” James interrupted his friends who were mountain deep in their homework.

“Hm.” Sirius shot lowly while he closed his subject book, “Go on. Think I’m done for the day.”

Remus shot his eyes at the interaction between his friends, leaning back on his seat to pay attention to James.

“So, you lot know about the incident a month ago, yeah?”

Sirius scoffed, “Mate, the bin waffle? Course we know!”

“Not really something to brag about, Prongs.” Remus chimed in.

“Look, I know. I’ve done some thinking and—“

“You wanna apologize to her?”

James stayed silent, “Well, I—“

Remus shot his friend a look of pity, “Honestly, you should’ve done it months ago. We know you may not like her, but she’s still mine and Pads’ close friend. And yes, she’s done so many things to annoy you but ..”

Sirius continued, “But it was a really shit thing to say. And you were fucking rude! I mean honestly, Prongs! Throwing out the waffles? Not necessary!”

“I know, I know. I’ve been feeling pretty bad about it recently and I want to apologize, really. But I dunno— things are just confusing.”

“How is it confusing? You just need to walk over to her and apologize.” Remus shrugs.

“That’s not it, Moony. It’s more confusing, like— I don’t even know how to explain it, y’know. Like, I used to be so fucking annoyed and pissed when she’s around. But now, it’s like somethings missing. Something like .. her.”

Sirius scoffs, “Shut the fuck up!”

James looks confused, “What—?”

“Shut up!”

“Literally not saying a word.”

Sirius stands up, “James Potter!” his hands banging on the table until the librarian is ordering him to calm down.

Remus looks up at him and pulls Sirius’ hand to sit back down at his chair. “Maybe you should tell him quietly.”

“I love how much you don’t notice, mate. You’ve got a crush on her, Prongs!”

James scoffed, his arms immediately crossing. “No I don’t.”

“Yes, you very much do.” Remus replied.

Sirius smiles, “You may not have liked her when she was bothering you, but you sure are thinking of her when she’s gone.”

“That’s nothing. It’s just cause I feel bad.”

“No you don’t!”

“I actually do, Pads. That’s why I’m bringing this up.”

Sirius scoffs with a wide smile, “No you’re bringing this up because you need to talk about it.”

“Well— yes. Because I need advice on how to apologize.”

“No, mate. Prongs, you’ve totally got a crush on her!”

“I don’t!”

“You’re so stubborn, mate. You know that saying ‘you lose them and then you know’? Thats you!”

Remus interjects, “Actually, the saying is ‘you don’t realize what you’ve got till it’s gone’. But yes, I do think it resembles this situation.”

“It doesn’t resemble anything. Besides, if she is here right now I’m positive I’d be annoyed just the same. I just feel bad for the .. waffle incident.”

“Wrong. Don’t believe it.”

Sirius looks across the table where James is and gives him a dumbfounded look. “Alright, fine. If you really think that, then what d’you say to a bet, huh? We prove that you’ve got feelings for her and if we succeed you pay for all your drinks whenever we go out for a whole month.”

James rolls his eyes, “And how would you prove that? She’s not even talking to me.”

Remus shoots Sirius a coy smile, the gears in his head turning as he makes up a plan in his head. “Well we’d just apologize to her for you and ask her to hang out with us. Then we’ll see your reactions and … other things.”

“Perfect plan!” Sirius chimes excitedly.

“I don’t agree to all of this.”

“That’s cause you’re scared to show us you actually do have a crush on Y/n.”

“One, I don’t. And second, fine. I’ll agree. But if this doesn’t prove anything and I’m right all along that I do not have a crush on her, you both will be doing my Arithmancy for a month.”

“Really? Why’d you even take that elective?” Sirius scoffs.

James smirks and extends his hand for a shake, “Deal?”

Remus shakes James’ hand quickly as his boyfriend beside him makes a sound of protest. “Moony! It’s Arithmancy, I thought we’d just have a counter agreement.”

“Come on, Pads, I’ll be doing all the work anyways.”

…

You clutched your books tightly, the familiar weight providing little comfort as you walked the corridors of the castle. Resentment and annoyance simmered within you since the incident with James.

As Sirius and Remus approached you after class, your expression soured. "What do you two want now?"

Sirius cleared his throat, putting on a cheery facade. "Hey, Y/n! Prongs wanted us to extend his apologies again for the breakfast thing. He's really sorry, you know?"

Your eyes narrowed at Sirius. "Sorry? James is sorry for tossing away the breakfast I brought for him without a second thought?"

"Yeah, he's been beating himself up about it. Really wants to make it right," Remus chimed in, attempting to sound convincing.

Your frustration reached its peak. "Is he? It's easy to be sorry now, isn't it? But where was his remorse when he threw the waffles in the bin like it was nothing? Tell James I don't need his apologies.”

Sirius and Remus exchanged a quick glance. Remus spoke softly, "Y/n, we understand how you feel, but Prongs is really trying to make amends. It might help if you could give him a chance to apologize properly."

"Yeah," Sirius added, his tone earnest, "We all miss hanging out together, and Prongs, he genuinely wants to make things right. Look, we’re all hanging in the commons just after classes are done.”

You hesitated, torn between your anger and their earnest plea. After a moment of contemplation, you sighed. "Fine, I'll be there. But not because of James. I'm doing this because both of you are my friends. And I’ve missed hanging."

As you walked away, Sirius and Remus exchanged relieved smiles, hoping that this hangout might just make them win the bet.

…

i - reconciliation

You sat in one corner of the Gryffindor common room, a book in hand, although your mind was elsewhere. Sirius and Remus hovered nearby, trying to create a relaxed atmosphere, but the tension lingered like a thick fog in the room.

When James entered, your heart skipped a beat. His eyes fleetingly met yours before darting away, a visible unease surrounding him.

"Hey, Y/n!" Sirius exclaimed cheerfully, attempting to break the heavy atmosphere. "We’ve been thinking of names for Moony’s new owl!"

"Yeah .. definitely that," Remus added, striving to mask the tension in his voice.

James cautiously approached, his gaze finally meeting yours. "Y/n, can we talk?" His voice was quiet, carrying an earnest plea.

You hesitated momentarily, then nodded, reluctantly setting aside your book and following James to a quieter corner of the room.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," James began, his voice laced with genuine regret. "I was thoughtless and I hurt you. I don't expect forgiveness, but I want you to know I'm really sorry."

As James spoke, his eyes held a raw sincerity that tugged at your heartstrings. The hurt remained, but you found yourself softening, unable to resist the depth of emotion in his gaze. Your own feelings for him, buried deep within, began to stir, making forgiveness a more feasible option.

"You did hurt me, James," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But..." You hesitated, your resolve faltering as emotions swirled within you. His eyes, filled with remorse, seemed to tug your emotions. "I appreciate the apology. And I... I forgive you."

Meanwhile, Sirius and Remus tried to lighten the mood by engaging everyone in different activities. Yet, in the corner where you and James stood, the emotions were palpable, the unspoken tension slowly dissolving with your admission.

Conversations flowed more easily throughout the evening, punctuated by shared smiles and lingering gazes between you and James.

Beneath the surface, an unspoken understanding seemed to grow between you and James, sparking a flicker of hope for reconciliation.

Remus and Sirius settled into a quiet couple, minding their own business. You took the moment to excuse yourself to avoid anymore awkwardness. You’ve never been in the situation without being so all up in James’ business. James watched you leave, a mix of relief and gratitude evident in his eyes.

…

ii - jealousy

“What do you guys think of Cassius Flintwood?” James broke the silence at his table. His friends looked up from their work, giving James a puzzled expression.

“Nothing. Other than he’s probably the saving grace of Ravenclaw’s abomination quidditch team.” Sirius shrugged.

“Yeah, that. And he tutors Marlene, oh and Y/n— wait, are you asking cause you’re seeing him tutoring Y/n?”

Sirius gasps, immediately turning around to see where James’ eyes are making intense eye contact to. “Prongs, you’re jealous. Christ, this is perfect! Might as well just go get drinks right now, cause we’ve won!”

James rolls his eyes, head making contact with the wooden table as he lays his head down. “Shut up, Pads. I’m not jealous, jus’ asking.”

“Mhm. Definitely.” Remus chuckles.

“I’m so confused with everything. I apologized to her, we’re good. Why’s she .. I dunno, distancing herself still?”

“You dimwit.” Sirius says with a hint of shock, his hand slapping the top of James’ head. “You have a big ego James Potter. D’you honestly think she’d just go back to obsessing over you?”

James lifts his head up and rolls his eyes “No, that’s not what I meant. Just—“

“Look, mate,” Remus interferes, “If you’re that bothered by her and Cassius just go over there and study with them. Sure he won’t mind.”

“What? I can’t do that.”

Sirius narrows his eyes, “So you’re admitting that it does bother you?”

“No! She’s just having a tutoring session.” A tutoring session that involves Cassius touching her arm and making her laugh. She’s probably not learning anything right now. James’ annoying head thinks.

“Then stop looking at them.” Sirius warns.

“Y’know what, I’m tired. Might just fit a nap in before my late classes.” He begins to stand and collect his things. Just before putting everything inside his satchel, an idea pops into mind.

James glances at the thick Potions book beside him along with other books stacked below it. He lays his hand flat on the wooden surface and gives it a small shove, making the stack of books clattering on the floor and making a loud echo throughout the library.

Sirius just scoffs at his friends’ action, meanwhile a smile plays at Remus’ lips, clearly understanding the dumb little trick that James has just performed.

In a second, your eyes landed on James for almost the tenth time. When you see him finally collecting all the books from the floor, you make eye contact. His face is red, a hint of embarrassment showing on his cheeks. A small smile twitches on your lips, trying not to let it show to James.

James kept a steady hand in the table and lifted himself up, quickly putting his books inside his satchel and making haste of his exit from the library.

“Think we’ve got this bet in the bag, Pads.” Remus says.

…

iii - realisation

The Quidditch pitch resonated with the energy of practice, but James's mind was elsewhere as he maneuvered through the air on his broom. Sirius watched from the sidelines, unable to ignore James's distracted flying.

"Oi, Prongs, you’re flying like you’ve got a Bludger lodged in your head. What’s going on?” Sirius remarked, concern etched into his tone.

James landed his broom, "Just not in the zone today, I guess," he muttered, trying to downplay his disarray.

Sirius crossed his arms, gaze unwavering. "It's about Y/n, isn't it?"

James faltered, caught off guard by Sirius' directness. "Maybe," he admitted, a tinge of regret lacing his words.

Sirius arched an eyebrow, probing gently. "You miss her, don't you?"

James sighed, the weight of his unresolved feelings palpable. "It's more than that, Sirius. I've been a complete prat to her all these years," he confessed, his voice tinged with remorse.

Sirius's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You mean treating her like a pest?"

James nodded, guilt weighing heavily on him. "Exactly. I never gave her a chance and, Christ, I feel awful for it. She's been nothing but a good friend, maybe a tad obsessive but .. I've been too blind to see it."

“It’s fine, mate. Least you’ve figured it out now. Who knew the waffle incident would’ve caused this, huh?”

"I dunno though,” James admitted, a mix of regret and uncertainty clouding his thoughts. "It's like realizing something you should have known all along."

Sirius gave his friend a coy smile, "Give yourself time, mate. Just remember, she's not going anywhere. Maybe it's a good thing to figure it out now, yeah?"

James nodded, a mix of emotions swirling within him. With Sirius's encouragement, James readied himself to get back on his broom.

…

iv - confession

The first thing James saw when he entered the common room was you. Sat there in your too big sweater and a book huddled in your lap. His heart beats nervously as he walks closer to try and calm himself down.

“Y/n!" James greeted, trying to hide the hint of nerves in his voice.

You glanced up from your book, smiling warmly at his approach. "Hey.”

Taking a seat beside you, James fiddled with the sleeve of his robe, trying to find the right words. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. Reflecting, you know?" he started, eyes darting to meet yours.

You raised an eyebrow, curious about where this was going. "Reflecting about what?"

James let out a small chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, you see, I've had this knack for making a right mess of things. Especially when it comes to... certain people."

Your lips curved into a small smile, sensing the playful tone in his words. "Certain people?”

"Right, so I've been a bit dim, maybe blind even. Overlooked something that's been there all along."

"James Potter, are you about to confess your undying love for someone?"

James laughed, a touch of color rising to his cheeks. That laugh that you could get high on no matter the situation. Well, it's not quite as dramatic as that, but..." James took a breath, looking straight into your eyes. "Maybe I've been a bit of a fool. Y/n, you uh … , are more than just a friend to me. You're, uh, rather important."

Your smile widened, realizing the sincerity behind his playful demeanor. "Oh really? Important, am I?" You teased lightly.

He nodded, his smile widening. "Yeah, you are. I guess what I'm trying to say is... I rather like having you around, you know?"

Your smile softened, this was the moment you’ve dreamt for probably millions of times. Truthfully it wasn’t as dramatic as you’d expect. But having to see James in his awkwardness, words falling clumsily from his mouth and making eye contact with you, it was a moment you’d dream of. That was how much you were in love with the boy.

"As long as you mean it, Potter."

💌 thanks for reading lovie! support me by reblogging <3

[candycandy00]

someone said filthy and raunchy reqs for ume???? say no more !! what abt both of you eating at pothros and this random guy gives you his number, now ume isn’t used to this as everyone knows you’re bofurin’s leader gf, and at first he’s confused so he doesn’t react jealous, so that somehow makes you feel uneasy, like, why isn’t he getting jealous??

anddd when you both get home, he pushes you against the wall and absolutely PROVES how jealous he is and how disrespected he feels that you think he didn’t care enough 👀 so he shows you he does care ANSBDNFNS i’m such a sucker for him.

thank you so much in advance, if you do this req!!! 🤍✨ if not, thanks either way jsjs!

Lose Your Composure - An Umemiya x Reader Fanfic

Smut. 18+. Rough sex. Fem Reader. Ume is in his 20’s here! Divider by @benkeibear. Any and all feedback is adored!

You blink up at the man holding out a napkin to you, a series of digits scrawled on the paper. Making no move to take it, you glance over at your boyfriend for his reaction. 

Umemiya is looking at the man with the same confused expression you’re wearing. 

You laugh nervously. “Uh, I’m flattered, but I have a boyfriend,” you say, gesturing toward the very tall and recognizable man sitting beside you at the table. 

Honestly, what is this guy thinking? He’s been staring at you from the counter ever since he walked in. Does he not know who Umemiya is? And even if he somehow doesn’t, how brazen do you have to be to give your number to a woman while she’s sitting with another man?

He’s still holding it out to you. “Take it anyway,” he says with a smarmy grin. “You might get tired of this guy sooner than you think.”

You narrow your eyes. You were trying to be polite at first, but this guy is pushing it! “I’m not interested,” you say with a firm tone. 

The stranger shrugs and finally pulls his hand back, shoving the crumpled napkin into his pocket and walking out of Pothos. 

You sigh and look over at Ume, curious to see his reaction, but he’s already gone back to eating his food, a pleasant smile on his face. 

Damn. You were sort of hoping for something else. 

You’ve never seen Ume jealous before. Maybe it’s because he’s used to seeing you surrounded by other guys, and those guys are his friends who would never dream of being inappropriate with you. To be honest, you’d like to see him get a little possessive, just once. You love that he trusts you and respects you, and you love how sweet he is, but is it wrong to want to see your boyfriend a little jealous? A little riled up? 

Just the thought has you getting heated. You’ve never seen Ume in a fight before, though you know he’s strong. He’s made sure to never expose you to violence, and you appreciate his efforts. But it also means you’ve never seen him being serious or angry. You’ve been together for months now, and you’ve only managed to catch brief glimpses of his firm, dominant side. It peeks out every so often in the bedroom, so quick you almost miss it, and always followed by an apologetic look from him. 

Once it was his hand on your head while you were sucking him off, pressing your head down just before cumming in your mouth. Another time it was him gripping your wrists above your head while you laid on your back, his body above yours. He’d seemed to feel guilty about those instances, but you found them extremely hot. 

Now, you were expecting him to have some sort of reaction to a random guy hitting on you right in front of him, but he didn’t. He didn’t even seem to care.  

You finish your meal in silence, occasionally nodding along as your boyfriend talks about his garden or the crazy antics his friends got into today. You’re not mad, but you are a bit disappointed, and you’re afraid that will be obvious if you speak too much. 

After leaving Pothos, Ume walks you back to your apartment. He practically lives here too, but he hasn’t mentioned staying over tonight. Usually he just does as he pleases, so it’s not like he needs an invitation. Still, he seems a little awkward as the two of you ride the elevator up to your floor. Has he noticed the shift in your mood? 

“Is everything alright?” he asks as you step out of the elevator. 

“It’s fine,” you say as you make your way down the hall, digging your key out of your bag. The response came out a bit sharper than you’d intended. 

“Are you upset?” 

The question makes you feel a surge of guilt. Ume has done nothing wrong. But you still feel the way you feel. You should at least explain that. 

You stop in front of your door, unlocking and opening it. You can’t bring yourself to look at him as you say, “I’m not upset. I just expected you to have a bigger reaction to that guy trying to give me his number. It almost feels like you don’t care if other guys hit on me.”

Walking inside and dropping your bag and keys on a nearby table, you still don’t look at him. You hear Ume follow you in and shut the door behind him. When you flick on the light and finally turn to face him, your blood turns to ice. 

Your sweet, adoring boyfriend who is always smiling at you, who always looks at you with the kindest expressions, now looks like an entirely different person. His smile is nowhere to be found, his lips a hard line. There’s a fiery intensity to his eyes that almost scares you, a look in them that you’re certain has made many men quiver in fear. Before you is not your doting lover. It’s the Bofurin boss that has crushed every enemy who dared to challenge him. 

It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. 

“Ume?”

He doesn’t say anything, only moves toward you at a speed you didn’t think possible and presses your back against the wall. Not hard, but firm. 

You look up as he towers over you, his big hands on the wall beside your head. Looking down at you, a few strands of hair slide down around his eyes, and you feel like a helpless little bug. 

“H-Hajime?” You don’t call him by that name often, so used to calling him Ume even before you started dating. His eyes seem to glimmer when he hears it. 

“Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been holding back?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically low. “How much I wanted to break that asshole’s neck for even looking at you? How I wanted to take you right there on the table so the whole town knows I’m the only one who can touch you?”

Your heart is racing, your breaths coming quicker as you stare up at him. You’re already getting wet. 

“And you think I don’t care?” His voice goes even deeper as he leans in, his beautiful face tantalizingly close to yours. “I’ll show you how much I care.”

He kisses you, not in the usual sweet and gentle way, but with his mouth claiming yours, stealing your breath, his tongue pushing in to taste you. 

Your arms automatically move to encircle his neck as you kiss him back, suddenly feeling like all these clothes you’re both wearing are in the way. He fixes that quickly, shrugging off his coat and letting it fall to the ground, then tearing your clothes off so aggressively, he rips your pretty new underwear. 

This is a side you’ve never seen of him. And when he pulls his white T-shirt over his head and looks at you with that burning expression, his hair slightly disheveled, you nearly buckle right there. 

You stand on your tiptoes, leaning up to kiss him again, but he suddenly grabs your shoulders and turns you around to face away from him. You hear him unbuckle his belt, then he’s pressing your upper half against the wall, slightly bending you over, and forcefully spreading your legs. 

His fingers slide down, dipping between your slick folds, feeling how absolutely drenched you are. When he finds your clit, circling and rubbing it with one finger, you moan against the wall. 

He leans over you, his bare, toned chest pressing into your naked back, and says, “That fucker at Pothos put me in a bad mood. You’re gonna have to fix that.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Ume rarely ever uses coarse language, at least in front of you. To hear him saying such things right in your ear as he plays with your throbbing clit is driving you mad. 

“Now spread wider and take my cock,” he says, nearly pushing you over the edge.  

You scoot your feet a little wider apart, as much as you can with your legs trembling, and then his hands are on your hips, grip firm, holding you in place. You gasp as you feel his entire length shove inside you, filling you up to the brim, stretching you to your limit. 

Before you can even adjust to his massive cock, his hands lift your lower half up, so that your legs are dangling above the floor, your upper half wedged against the wall. And just like that, he takes you. His thrusts are deep, powerful, making your helpless body jerk with each one. 

You whimper out his name as your hands press into the wall, trying to take pressure off your face. You were already on the edge of climax before he even started fucking you, now you’re about to explode with pleasure as your kind boyfriend rails you. 

Is this even Ume? The difference in his very aura makes you shudder with delight. How did he figure out this is what you’ve been craving? 

He slams in deep, hitting a sensitive spot that makes you crumble. Your orgasm ripples through you, bringing tears to your eyes as you moan incoherently. Your hands lose all strength and slip from the wall. You think you’re going to fall, but then Ume’s strong arms wrap around your torso, holding you up. The embrace is gentle, even as he continues pounding you with his cock, and you can feel his overwhelming love radiating through his arms, through his heartbeat against your back. 

Then, he stiffens inside you, pushing in so deep it feels like he’s inside your womb before shooting his thick, hot cum into your core. He stays buried that way, still holding you close, until he’s completely empty. Then he gently pulls out and sits you back on your feet. 

Your legs feel like they’re made of spaghetti as you struggle to turn around and look at him. He’s panting, his face red, his hair wet with sweat. And he’s wearing that cute apologetic expression. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks, his voice sounding almost sheepish. 

You feel like laughing, but you don’t have the energy. Instead you collapse against his chest. “Ume, you just made me cum harder than I ever have in my life.”

His hands are rubbing your back. “So… you liked that? Me being more forceful?” 

You look up at him. “Yes, but not all the time. I don’t think I could handle that every night!”

He bends down slightly and scoops you up in his arms. “I just wanted to show you how I felt. When that guy offered you his number, I saw red. But I try to keep my composure in front of you. I don’t wanna scare you away.”

You lean up to kiss his cheek. “Every now and then it’s exciting to see you lose your composure,” you say as he carries you toward the bathroom. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says with his sweet smile. 

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Eddie gets a not-so-sweet surprise when Hendrix takes some song lyrics a bit too literally.

TW: the briefest allusion to smut (referencing chapter 1), minor spousal conflict

WC: 1.5k

A/N: Based on an idea given to me by none other than @corroded-hellfire 💚 y'all wanted more of Hendrix, so here he is!

April 2003

The sedan rattles along the winding road to Forest Hills Trailer Park, pebbles crunching beneath the tires. Sunday nights meant dinner at Wayne’s, a tradition that you and Eddie both vowed to keep as long as possible.

A familiar intro trills over the car’s radio. Eddie’s eyes leave the road for a brief second to meet yours. 

Step inside  Walk this way You and me babe  Hey hey!

“Our song, Sweetheart.” Your husband grins, right hand slipping from the steering wheel to crank the volume louder. He sings along, just as animated as he was that first night at The Hideout. 

Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on Livin' like a lover with a radar phone Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp Demolition woman, can I be your man?

“Dad, what the heck?” Harris grumbles from the backseat. At eleven years old, he flips between adoration and annoyance with astounding speed. 

“Yeah, what the heck?” Hendrix echoes his brother, though his smile is a far cry from Harris’s exasperated eye roll. 

Eddie relents, twisting the knob just enough to be heard over Joe Elliott’s vocals. 

“This is the song I sang that had Mom falling in love with me.” There’s a teasing glimmer in his eyes, daring you to disagree with him. 

You eagerly take the bait. 

“Love is a strong word,” you counter. The night you and Eddie met was steeped in memories of longing and lust, of giving into your desires in what was supposed to be a fling. 

A fling that’s been happening for nearly seven years and counting. 

Eddie sits forward suddenly, snapping the volume knob so Def Leppard once again reverberates through the car. “Wait…this is the best part!” He yells back to his sons, taking an extended pause at a stop sign to headbang. 

Pour some sugar on me Ooh, in the name of love Pour some sugar on me C'mon, fire me up Pour your sugar on me I can't get enough

He leans in, smushing his lips against your cheek, as he sings along. 

I’m hot, sticky sweet From my head to my feet, yeah!

You playfully shove him away, giggles betraying the irritated exterior you’re trying to uphold. 

From the backseat, Hendrix pipes up. “What does that mean?”

Without missing a beat, Harris instigates further. “Yeah, Dad. What does this song mean?”

Damn pre-teens. If there’s no trouble to be found, they’ll make some. 

Eddie swears under his breath, cheeks flushing red as he tries to find a response suitable for his three-year-old. “Well, um, he’s just…” he falters, any and all explanations fleeing his head. He improvises song lyrics on the fly when he forgets the real ones on stage, but now his brain short-circuits? Convenient.

Luckily, you’re used to fielding questions from little kids; one of the benefits of teaching preschool. “He wants to be extra sweet so a girl loves him.”

“So he pours sugar on himself?” Hendrix’s nose wrinkles in adorable confusion.

“Yup.” Easier to confirm your son’s own ideas than to come up with an alternative. Leaning back against the headrest, you force out a giggle. “Pretty silly, huh?”

The subject is swiftly dropped as Eddie pulls the car in front of his uncle’s trailer, Wayne already standing at the door and announcing that the pizza was on the table and ready to be eaten. “Delivered hot to the door, just like they promised,” he said, repeating the Surfer Boy slogan. 

It isn’t until dinner has been eaten, the conversation naturally dwindling, that trouble begins to arise. 

“Har, I wanna look over your homework when we get back,” you say, crumpling up your sauce-stained napkin and placing it on your empty plate. Your eyes narrow when you clock the uneasy glance that your oldest son shares with his father. “You did finish your homework, right?”

Harris tries and fails to hide behind his messy mop of curls. “Not exactly,” he mutters. His uneaten crust is suddenly of incredible interest. “I was gonna do it today, but, um…”

“But what?” Your impatience is directed both at him and Eddie, the other alleged adult in the house, who was home with Harris while you took Hendrix to a playdate. 

“Well, okay, the plan was for him to do his homework,” Eddie begins, choosing his words carefully. Too carefully, like he’s trying to hide something. “But then Jeff called and told me about this tournament at the arcade; like, all of the old-school stuff we played as kids. I told Harris he could go if he promised to finish his work after, but then time got away from me—”

You grit your teeth, all-too aware of your audience present. The last thing you need is for your temper to unravel in front of Wayne and the boys. “So Harris’s homework isn’t done because…” You take a deep breath before continuing. “…because you wanted to go to the arcade?”

Wayne mumbles a barely audible “hoo, boy” as he clears the snack table. 

“I’m sorry, all right?” Eddie shakes his head. “I lost track of time, but he’s gonna get it done. It’s just, what, some math and science stuff?”

“And social studies,” Harris admits. 

Eddie’s face blanches. “Okay, so…just three things.”

Except it’s not that simple. Harris needs to take breaks to keep himself motivated and prevent frustration. He needs to reread and revise because he has trouble attending to all of the details at once. And now that he’s older, his know-it-all approach only makes homework time more challenging—for him and for you and Eddie. 

“Looks like he’ll be up until God-knows what time, then,” you shoot back. “And you can be the one up with him.”

“I said I’m s—what the hell?” Eddie leaps up, nearly falling over his feet in the process. A mountain of grainy white substance falls from his lap, into the futon’s crevices and onto the floor. 

Hendrix stands beside him, an upside-down—and now empty—bag of granulated sugar in his pudgy hands. His big eyes dart between you and Eddie, anticipating your reactions. 

“Hendrix,” Eddie says through a deep breath, channeling every ounce of remaining patience. Harris cackling doesn’t help, either. “Why did you do that?”

Your youngest son shakes the bag a few extra times for good measure. “Putting sugar on you so Mommy likes you. Like in the song.”

Shocked into stillness, Wayne speaks up. “What song made you dump all of my sugar on your dad?”

Hendrix beams as he belts out, “POUR SOME SUGAR ON MEEEEEE! STICKY SWEET!” He turns to you triumphantly. “Do you like Daddy now?”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to keep from bursting into laughter. Logically, you know that you can’t reinforce this behavior, even if it was done with good intentions. 

But it’s also really funny. 

“I like Daddy even when he’s not covered in sugar,” you say. “I love him a lot, and us having a little argument doesn’t change that.”

“But the song…” Hendrix furrows his brows. 

You breathe out a sigh. “Sometimes, people say things in songs that we don’t do in real life. Like when people beat each other up on TV or in movies. It’s fun to watch, but we aren’t actually going to do it.”

The boy pouts. “So do I gotta say sorry?”

“Yes,” you tell him, “to Daddy for pouring the sugar on him, and to Grampa Wayne for wasting his sugar.”

“Sorry, Daddy. Sorry, Grampa Wayne,” he says softly. “I didn’t know the song wasn’t for real.”

Wayne grins. “S’okay, kiddo. I’ll just drink my coffee black for a while.”

Eddie’s positioned over the kitchen sink as he brushes the rest of the granules off of his shirt. “I think we need a hard-and-fast rule that we don’t copy any of the things we hear in songs.”

“Agreed.” You start towards the tiny closet where Wayne keeps the vacuum, adjusting the hose so it can suck up the sugar embedded into the futon’s mattress. When that’s done, you grab the broom. “Now, Hen, you’re gonna hold the dustpan while I sweep the floor.”

“But—” he starts to argue, but a raise of your eyebrows silences him. “Okay…”

Eddie takes the broom from you, a tight smile on his face. “Guess I kinda deserved that, huh?” He murmured. 

“Didn’t wanna say it out loud, but…yeah.”

“I really am sorry.” He sweeps the sugar into Hendrix’s waiting pan. “It was a real dumb move on my part.”

You kiss his cheek. “I know you’re sorry. And I forgive you, you stupid, stupid man.”

“Good.” He grins wickedly. “I’d hate to have to pour more sugar on myself to win back your affections.”

You roll your eyes. “Just keep sweeping, and then we can talk about my affections.”

“Yes, dear.”

--

[squinch-depraved]

I was watching a chuckle sammy episode today and there was a part where Schlatt said he would hire a hot secretary just to keep him company. I'd love a story about that if you're willing.

The episode is the zodiac one the part I'm referring to is exactly 1 hour in.

this is reallllly yummy i hope i did it justice for you

it was supposed to be just a joke. just a bit for the podcast, a few sentences about hiring an attractive secretary and nothing more. but they stuck in schlatt's mind and hung heavy over him for the rest of that night. he really was lonely. and ted had a point, hiring someone to just be around (and look pretty) was looking like a better and better idea every second. so he finished off his bottle of benedictine, not that there was much left, and tossed it to the side, stretching out further on the couch while he pulled out his phone and set to work searching for an assistant.

it wasn't long before ted heard about his search, and the two men bantered in a call for a few minutes about it before the older of the two stopped his jokes to suggest, "no, but for real though, i have a friend who just moved back to new york, you might remember her, she was on the set for this past chuckle week helping in the background. y/n?"

schlatt's pupils dilated and he took in a breath. "yeah, i remember her," he replied coolly. "thought she was in school though?" he played with something on his desk.

ted lit up. "yeah, she's studying, but i'm sure she'd be willing to work something out with you." his voice was laced with knowing. he had seen the way schlatt sized you up the first time he laid eyes on you, the way he could never meet your gaze and how he always looked to you first when he made a joke. "i'll send you her info, you should reach out, man. she'll be happy to hear from you."

that last line was the only reason schlatt did it. he cursed himself for letting ted convince him now that you were here in front of him. you had been invited to a coffee shop to discuss the job details, and when you finally showed up, he looked incredibly uncomfortable sitting at a small table. but you sat down in front of him, smiling up at him and pushing your glasses up on your nose.

"hi schlatt!" you greeted him, reaching out to shake his hand. he gripped you a bit too hard and grimaced when you made a small noise, shaking your hand out when he let go. "thank you so much for the opportunity, i was really worried i wouldn't be able to find a good job for a while with my school going on and everything."

he nodded hastily and pushed a pastry he ordered for you towards you on the table. you smiled and yanked it towards you, beginning to eat as he spoke. "basically, i just need you to get any random tasks i need done, done. just, paperwork, if there ever is any, usually it's all digital, uhh, anything that slips through the cracks. i just need someone to be there and make sure my shit is taken care of."

you raised a brow. "sounds like you need more than an assistant," you responded with a smirk. his face reddened and he looked away, trying to shove down the thoughts of why you were really here. you were making a joke, but it wasn't funny to him. not when you didn't know you were right.

"shit, i'm sorry schlatt, i didn't mean to insult you-"

"'s fine. not insulted. i need you in the office whenever i'm there, sometimes i get work done at my apartment, so here's a key to both. feel free to get your own shit done whenever you're working unless i need you doing something. pay's fifty an hour. can you start today?" he slaps two keys down onto the table as well as two addresses written down on a half-crumpled napkin. you stare up at him in shock before snatching the keys and paper.

"fifty bucks an hour???" you whisper-screamed at him before the startled look on his face pulled you back into reality. "what about this job is worth paying me that much? i'm accepting it, no takesies backsies, but why so much, schlatt?" you tilted your head at him as you asked.

he scrambled for an answer to your question that wasn't "i want to spoil you until you can't think of anything else in the world you want," but when he opened his mouth to talk, nothing came out. you sighed and answered his previous question instead.

"yeah, i can start today. let's go ahead and get to work, boss," you said, standing up and collecting all your school stuff you brought in with you. "take me somewhere i can dump my stuff!"

weeks passed, you fell into rhythm with his fucked up schedule easily, quickly learning when to fetch him more caffeine and when to take away his alcohol. you kept him organized, boosting his productivity and helping him with almost anything he needed. you learned a few days in the fifty an hour was for no good reason other than maybe ted had told him you were struggling to pay for school (he hadn't) because most of your job was sitting at another desk, sometimes in the same room, sometimes separated by walls, parallel playing with schlatt as he filmed or streamed or edited or did whatever he needed to do while you worked on schoolwork or a fun hobby you were into. you were being paid to do minimal office work, study and relax, and best of all, care for your hot boss. he loved when you called him that, boss, it always made his cock twitch and his brain flood with thoughts of you under him.

the worst part of the job was how attracted you were to him. it made doting on him inevitable when your whole source of income was reliant on you making sure he was "taken care of." he noticed you acting more lovingly for the first time when you brought a water bottle to his desk while he was editing and massaged the back of his shoulders before mumbling, "you need to take a break and stretch soon," and leaving the room. he was stunned, skin burning under his sweater where you touched him. secretaries don't do that. he quickly opened up his messages with ted and began typing.

"dude. i fucked up. shouldn't have hired y/n. help." every sentence was a different message. moment later, ted eased the pounding of schlatt's heart a bit by replying.

"what happened??"

schlatt typed quickly. "she massaged my shoulders idk man i can't think around her"

"oh dear heavens, the damn harlot massaged you?"

schlatt didn't dignify that with a response. a few moment later, ted typed again.

"she's really into you dude, you should go for it. i promise she's not the type to sue you if it doesn't work out"

his main fear erased, he closed the chat and got off the computer, heading to find you in his apartment kitchen, going over the schedule for the days to come. music played from a speaker on the counter, and you paused it when you saw him come out.

"sorry, was it too loud?" you asked, looking up at him.

"nah," he shook his head. "you've been workin' for me for a few months now, y/n," he began.

you started shaking your head, backing up into his fridge. "schlatt, please, no, i need this job," you started to babble.

"shhh, nonono, not that at all, doll," he assured you, gliding across the floor to caress your cheek. the pet name made your stomach turn as you let him cup your face. "was gonna say somethin' else."

"what is it, then, boss?" you batted your lashes at him. he inhaled sharply and kissed you, absorbing the high pitched moan you let out. when he pulled away, you flicked your eyes down from his to his mouth and back up to meet his gaze before pulling him back in.

he tasted like whiskey, and he growled against your neck when you slid your hands under his shirt. "hired you just to keep me company but i can't keep my hands off you, doll." the nickname made you nervous for the second time that night.

"then don't keep 'em off me," you panted, puling your shirt off over your head and adjusting your skewed glasses. he drinks you in, inhaling the scent of your perfume (that you recently had to buy another of because he stole your first bottle to smell while he pumped his thick cock in his hand whenever you were gone). after a moment, he peeled your leggings off and picked you up, setting you down on the counter before he kneeled between your legs and looked up at you for permission to begin tasting you. you nodded, running your fingers through his brown curls while he started to lick and kiss at your cunt. much to his enjoyment, you didn't hold back your noises, letting your moans and cries bounce off the echoey walls of his apartment.

he slid a finger in you as he sang praises about how good you tasted for him, working his way up to two, and eventually three. you were crooning about how amazing he felt, knotting your fingers deeper into his hair and pulling it when you felt your high getting close, which made him moan directly onto your clit. you clenched your thighs around his head and ground down onto his face as he drew an orgasm from you.

once his face was thoroughly soaked with your juices, he pulled away and came up to kiss you for a bit before pulling you off the counter and spinning you around.

"i promise i'll fuck you properly, in a bed, next time, i just gotta have you now, toots." he bent you over the counter and slid his pants down, stroking his length a few times before slowly pushing into you. you both moaned, adjusting to each other, and he started thrusting, gripping your hips fiercely as you shrieked and adjusted your glasses again, to no avail because you were being shaken and throttled like a toy.

"god, you're so good!!" you screeched, moaning further when he smacked your ass in response.

"fuck, you look so cute, bent over on my counter like that, lettin' me use you like the good little assistant you are," he snarled. you let out a guttural whine at how hot he sounded. "you're so good at assisting me, baby."

your knees began to buckle and he grabbed you tighter to help hold you up.

"almost there, toots, c'mon. doin' so good."

you cried out one more time and his pace quickened, growing unsteady as he got closer to finishing. he thrust forcefully a few more times before pulling out to come all over your back and ass.

quiet settled over the kitchen as you both panted, and you heard him quietly snap a picture of you with his seed all over you before he grabbed a paper towel and began to clean you up.

"sorry," he mumbled.

you shook you head and turned around to kiss him. "can i stay the night?" you asked him.

he nodded, relieved, and slipped his pants back on.

"can i get paid for it?" you looked at him with a sly expression, glasses smudged.

he laughed. "absolutely."

[star-stilinski]

Hi 🥺❤️

Can I ask for a protective Stiles fanfic? Preferably at a party 🥺🥺

Thank you ❤️

ummm anon... be honest... have you been reading my drafts?

i literally have the start of this drafted. are you hacking into my account. also you seem very sweet!

☆

"i'm not asking again. put. the dress. on." lydia grits out, shoving the poor excuse of a party dress into your arms. allison gives you a pitying look, but doesn't argue with the redhead currently bossing you around.

"lydia, this thing is as tiny and as flimsy as a napkin! i'm going to look like-"

"a sexy stripper?" allison offers, and you can hear the laugh she's holding back for your sake. bastard. she's on lydia's side.

"if you don't wear this dress, i swear to god," lydia crosses her arms and makes her way to her bedroom door, giving you an icy glare over her shoulder. "i'm going to tell stiles you want him to-"

"treat me with love and respect!" you yell over whatever foul thing she was going to bring up, cheeks flaming with heat as your brain helpfully supplies all of the drunken confessions you have made to the poor girls. allison doesn't bother hiding her laugh this time before giving you a pitiful-but not apologetic-look on her way out of lydia's room. when the door clicks shut behind them, you sigh and look at the crumpled fabric in your hands.

okay, yeah, the dress is cute. it's hot, really, and as you shed your layers and reluctantly shimmy it on, you note how the color compliments your skin tone as well. and it's comfortable...

sort of.

you tug at the bottom of the dress once you've got it on, but that only means you have to tug at the top to keep your tits from spilling out. okay, you're going to be doing this all night.

you turn to lydia's full length mirror and give yourself a once-over.

jesus fucking christ.

wait a second... hold onnnn.... you turn to check yourself out, eyebrows raising once you get a good look at your ass. damn! and maybe your tits are a little showy, but you look like a bomshell. with your hair and makeup done, this dress, and the jewlrey lydia and allison picked out... you could totally be a homewrecker.

not that you'd want to. but it's definitely possible.

you're grabbing the pumps lydia insisted on when she barges in. "oh my god, brett's going to be there. i need my black heels."

you make a face at her as she flies past you to grab her own shoes, complaining loudly about the "stupid jock" she's been competing with for top grades. you move to share a look with allison, but when you turn to look at her, she's got her mouth open in an O and is eyeing your attire.

"what do you think?" you ask her, half timid, half confident as you do a short spin to give a view of all angles.

"you look amazing!" allison squeals and claps for you, and you turn your head to meet lydia's analyzing eyes. she smirks and nods, ducking back into her closet.

you watch a shoe fly out before you hear her answer. "yep, you'll be getting your mind off stiles all right!"

as you grab your bag and make your way to the door with allison, you roll your eyes. lydia catches up with the two of you as you tread downstairs, black 'i fucking hate brett' heels in hand. "i'm not trying to get my mind off of him. when did i ever say that?"

allison cringes. "you did. last night."

"okay, well what time was it?"

lydia swings open her front door. "four. we had just finished ten things i hate about you. you said that since he was clearly not attracted to you, which is such bullshit, you needed to get over and get under. if i recall."

you balk and feel your cheeks heat as you walk down the driveway. "you can't take anything i say after two in the morning seriously! one time i threatened to kill one of your exes, created an entire plan, and almost executed it at three AM. also, it's true that stiles isn't into me. that's just how it is. no biggie."

"oh-ho my god," allison doesn't bother stifling her laugh from the passenger seat of lydia's car. "he doesn't even acknowledge me when you wear that one blue crop top. too busy staring at your fantastic tits."

"they're great, aren't they?" you grin at her through the rearview mirror before lydia adjusts it, and then you three are on your way.

☆

the house party is crowded with girls dressed similar to you, skimpy dresses and flouncy hair, and guys with button downs half undone and whatever pants weren't dirty. you have a solo cup filled with rum and coke, and you were maneuvering your way through the bumping crowd. you've been doing a sub-par job of finding a one night stand to get your mind off stiles, and you're not sure why. maybe you're just not feeling it. or all the guys here suck.

you duck your head to avoid some guy's arm and ram head-first into someone's back, who turns around quickly.

"stiles!" you smile and he smiles back for about three seconds before his eyes actually see you.

he takes half a step back and the greeting he had for you gets stuck on it's way out, not important enough now that he sees what you're wearing. his eyes roam over you like a starved man, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips when he gets caught on the low cut collar.

"hey," he finally responds, eyes meeting yours. "when did you get here?"

you swirl your drink and tilt your head. "just like, half an hour. what about you?"

"just now." he takes a step closer, presumably to be heard over the music and chatter, and his hand finds your upper arm. you feel your skin warm where he touches you. "i like your outfit."

you feel a bit fuzzy at his words, grinning up at him. his eyes are dark as he watches you, and his brow is set. "thanks! it's actually lydia's, she forced me to wear it." you leave out the part about it being bait for whoever was going to make you feel like you could be hot, since stiles didn't.

he nods and his grip tightens just slightly on your arm, eyes dipping from your face when you tug absentmindedly at the hem of the dress, pulling your tits out a bit more. it's not on purpose, but you don't complain with how stiles notices like it was. his eyes flit back to yours and you catch his adams apple bob. "are you hungry?"

you feel flushed, from his eyes and his skin and his proximity. so you nod, just to get some air. "starving."

"i'll grab us something. meet me on the front porch?"

you nod again and stiles is gone. his demeanor seems different tonight, and it makes you want to swoon. the way he looked at you...

you're glad it's cool out, because you feel like you're on fire. the warmth of your drink isn't super helpful, but you'd rather be hot and tipsy than cold and sober with stiles looking at you all over like that. that way, you'd have something other than yourself to blame if you took things any further than he wanted.

but god, did you want things to go far.

you're looking out over the quiet street, arms resting on the railing, when you hear the door open behind you. expecting stiles with a snack, you turn, only to find a different boy. shorter, but larger, you recognize him from the lacrosse games. what was his name... jordan? jacob?

well, you're screwed if you don't figure it out, because he strides up to where you're standing, and he smirks.

"what're you doin' all by yourself out here?" his eyes rake over your dress. you flush. the voice of lydia haunts you, demanding you do not bring up stiles, this might be your ticket to forgetting him tonight.

"just getting some air." you hum, tucking a stray hair back. he catches the motion with his eyes. you try to avoid panicking, unsure of how to flirt if it's not joking and arguing (since you pretty much do it exclusively with stiles) and still trying to remember his name. jason? jackson? no, definitely not jackson.

"oh, yeah?" he places a hand on the railing behind you, cornering you with his left arm. you seem to realize in a moment why you haven't really been trying to flirt with other guys. you do not want this.

"yeah, um, my friend is about to come back. he's grabbing us food." you explain in a ramble. your heart picks up slightly as his other arm cages you in. you don't really want to hit or push, he hasn't done anything wrong, and in any case, he's about as big as a bull. he could crush you in a second.

"aw, man." his smirk doesn't leave as his body draws up close to yours. it feels uncoordinated, like he doesn't fit next to you. you press back against the railing to no avail. "i was hoping we could hang out alone, y'know?"

"too bad," you huff out a very fake laugh and feel the fear crawl up your throat. "could you back up? he's going to be here any second-"

"nah, he'll probably see us and get the message. don't worry, no one'll catch us." the boy slides one of his hands around the small of your back, way too close to your ass. his words make you a bit dizzy. you place your hands on his chest and push, your mind going wild like a cornered bunny. fuck, shit, what if stiles sees us and leaves us alone? fuck fuck fuck-

"back up." you hiss, more demanding, but he's much stronger and doesn't even seem to hear you. his hand grabs your ass. "get off of me."

"she said get off." stiles' voice rings clear on the porch and the guy is pulled off of you. stiles seems to almost tower over him, skinnier but taller, and jesus, if looks could kill. "what the hell is wrong with you, jace? get the fuck out of here."

jace, your terrified brain helpfully supplies, his name is jace. ooooh.

jace scrunches up his nose in disgust at stiles. "and why the fuck should i listen to you?"

"he's my boyfriend," you blurt, trembling all over and trying not to collapse from relief. stiles gives you a look of subtle surprise and then turns to jace, giving him another death stare.

"and if i see you talking to her again i'll tell grace you've got a small dick. i'll also run you over, but that'll be merciful after grace's reaction." his jaw flexes and you get confusingly turned on as your adrenaline dies down.

jace blanches and turns to you. "he's lying." as he turns to leave, he bites out, "maybe don't be such a fucking tease next time. bitch."

as soon as the door shuts behind jace, stiles is at your side. his hands cup your face before dropping, flailing aimlessly as he apologizes for touching you and asks if you're okay repeatedly. his demeanor from earlier is gone and replaced with the stiles you're used to, and it makes you smile.

"i'm alright, and you can touch me." you blush at the words and his hands gently hold your arms. "just a bit shaken up."

"no shit, what a fucking asshole. i swear to god, i'm going to kill him, jesus. i can't believe he wouldn't listen to you. are you sure you're alright? i got nachos. i won't leave you again."

butterflies erupt at his last sentence, spoken all rushed but said sincerely. you swallow and meet his whiskey brown eyes, glinting a cool tone from the moonlight, and sigh. you watch him read your expression and slowly pull you closer, wrapping you in a tight hug with your face pressed into his neck. his hand rubs up and down your spine soothingly, and he sways just slightly. you breathe him in and smell his cologne and his stiles scent, eyes fluttering shut. "nachos sound nice."

his laugh is felt more than heard, in his chest and throat, and he squeezes you a bit tighter before holding you out to arms length. his eyes meet yours and he tucks a strand of your hair back, making you blush again. his hand stays at your face, resting at your cheek.

"tell me you're okay first."

"i'm okay. just hungry."

he nods solemnly and turns to the porch swing behind him, grabbing a paper plate overloaded with nachos and plopping himself onto the swing, patting the empty space next to him. when you sit, he rests the plate on your thigh and it's warm from the queso. his arm loops around behind you and draws you closer.

you both dig in, and between your eating and stiles animatedly telling a story about scott trying to keg stand, you slip into that natural rhythm you and stiles have. you forget to be sexy and alluring, and he forgets his filter. you both lean against each other and pretend not to notice the press of your thighs against the other's, or the missed glances, or the way his fingers trace a pattern on your shoulder. you tell yourself it's the way friends are, but you want to kiss him when he licks some guacamole off his thumb.

he goes quiet after a moment and you can see him looking at you from your peripherals. when you turn to face him, he swallows.

"you really do look nice tonight."

you smile and turn your attention back to the plate, almost empty now. "thanks. i think jace made that clear."

stiles doesn't laugh. you can feel it, that attitude he had when you first bumped into him. your skin feels warmer as you eat another chip and look back up at him. he's distracted, gaze running over your body.

it feels different from jace. he felt like a shark circling it's prey. stiles makes you feel... well, not like an animal at all. you feel attractive when he looks at you like that, and you don't mind when his eyes rake over your thighs. he sucks in a breath. "jace is a unlovable dickbag with a ugly haircut."

you giggle at the accuracy, and look back at stiles with a sly grin.

"and that makes you...?"

he shakes his head. "not much better, apparently."

you tilt your head, licking a finger of its guac. stiles tracks the movement and you watch his eyes get all dark again. you speak once you've popped it out of your mouth. "how come?"

"because," stiles clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes. "i can't stop looking at you."

a flustered thrill runs through you and you smile proudly. "explain that."

"i... what?"

"why can't you stop looking at me? if you're going to lower yourself to the same standard as a... unlovable dickbag, you at least owe me an explanation."

he huffs, clearly frustrated. "you're being coy."

"you're the one who dropped that on me and won't explain it!" you scoff and shake your head at him. "seriously, stilinski, have some balls."

"alright, fine." the telltale signs of his annoyance seep in. you feel a tingle of excitement. he's always so hot when he's annoyed. he grits his teeth and turns you by the chin to face him carefully.

"you're wearing your hair in that-" he gestures to your head, "way and if that's not bad enough, you've got that stupid dress on that makes your tits stand out and, i mean, your thighs. your goddamn thighs are just so out and i cant get over how your eyes look, i don't know how you make them like that-"

"with makeup?"

"well, fuckin', obviously. but i mean, all hot and bedroom and whatnot. and you've got the nicest hips i've ever seen, that dress puts them on full display. i just want to grab them where they dip like that and your collarbones are so," he gestures again and you laugh breathily. "and i hate all the douchebags looking at you like a piece of meat tonight but i don't think i'm any better, so i'm sorry but you asked me-"

"stiles." you interrupt, and he goes quiet. you smile like an idiot and watch him get progressively more confused. "why do you think i wore the dress?"

he tilts his head a bit. "because you like it?"

"because i want you to be like-" you raise your eyebrows. "this when you're around me."

"a horny mess?"

you shrug, nodding. "yeah, pretty much."

"god, you're so evil." he sighs, but it sounds dreamy when he says it. he looks at you like you might as well kill him now and he'll die happy, and leans forward just a bit. "can i kiss you?"

you feel like you're dreaming. those four words have been all you've wanted to hear for forever. and now, out of the blue at a house party. you grin, nodding. "yeah, yes. please."

he cups your cheek and leans in.

☆

stiles won't leave your side the rest of the night, keeping an eye on your drink and an even closer eye on you. jace has disappeared, but he's not the only guy who's been after you tonight, and stiles makes it his mission to make himself known as your boyfriend. sure, your boyfriend of about twenty minutes, but yours nonetheless. his arm is slung over your shoulder or tight around your waist anytime some dude starts to get too comfortable, and you laugh at his antics.

"awfully possessive, are we?" you tease after he shooed another guy off. he smirks at you.

"aw, c'mon. you don't like me protecting my girl?"

your stomach swoops at the pet name, and you have to roll your eyes to avoid him noticing.

he notices anyway.

☆

THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD. i typed it all in one sitting (minus the first like 4 paragraphs which were in my drafts already) and posted immediately. feel free to ignore any typos and confusing bits, sending love!

[medusapelagia]

Serenade

written for @corrodedcoffinfest (Prompt 17: This one's for you) and @astrangersummer (Week 12: Forgotten) Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: none Words: 1000

(So... this entry for the Corroded Coffin Fest and the Steddie week got A LOT of attention and people asked me for a sequel So this can be read as a stand-alone or a sequel of Love at first sight.)

Steve can’t suffocate a whimper when the curtains of his room open unexpectedly and Robin turns toward him with a grin.

“Raise and shine, baby! We have another incredible shift at Target!”

“Fuck you, Robin. I’m sick, I can’t go to work.”

Robin lifts an eyebrow, and points at the glass of water and the Advil pills on Steve’s night table, “Not sick, babe, just in hangover, and given the fact you decided it was a good idea got wasted without me I think that spending your hangover with me dealing with customers is the right punishment.”

Muttering that he feels he’s been punished more than enough, Steve gulps down water and pills, grabs the wrinkled clothes he finds on his chair, and follows Robin into the kitchen, where a warm toast and a cup of coffee are already waiting for him.

“Still hate you, but you’re the best.”

“I know you do, dingus. Now, want to talk about last night?”

Steve tilts his head frowning in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Robin grabs her phone, opens WhatsApp, and plays an audio message in which a really drunk Steve stutters something about having found the man of his dreams.

“I’m going to marry him, Rob! Will you be my bestwoman?” Steve’s drunken voice says.

“So… who’s this mystery man?”

“Who? I have no idea who you are talking about.” Steve shrugs in confusion, “I was obviously drunk. I don’t remember a thing.”

Robin scrutinizes him for a long time before nodding to herself, “Ok, fine. But this is another reason why you’re not allowed to go out drinking without me!” She declares, pouring two glasses of orange juice for both of them.

“What about your date? Is Chrissy everything you were looking for?”

“She is not.” Steve sighs, ready to comfort her when Robin adds, “She’s way better! She is fun! And beautiful! And when she laughs she snorts so adorably… and we’re fucking late! Let’s go!” Robin says, grabbing Steve’s arm and pushing him out of the door while she keeps telling him about the amazing date she had the night before. 

When they get outside the crispy air makes Robin shiver, so she reaches into Steve’s jacket’s pocket to warm herself, but she retreats her hand with a gagging sound, “Didn’t your mom teach you to throw away used tissues?” she asks, making a disgusted face.

Steve frowns and puts his hand in his pocket, retrieving a crumpled napkin with some pen’s shaky signs. He opens the napkin to get a better look and finds a telephone number and a name: Eddie.

“Holy fucking shit! You did meet someone!” Robin grins, “Are you sure you don’t remember him?”

Shaking his head, red with embarrassment, Steve confirms he doesn’t remember anything.

“Ok. Only one thing to do.” Robin grabs Steve’s phone, “Call him.”

“What?! No! What if he’s a psycho? Or if I made a fool out of myself? It’s better to forget about it.”

“Ok.” Robin shrugs, turning her back to Steve who glares at her with suspicion, it's not like her to surrender so easily.

“What…? Robin! No!" He says trying to grab the phone, but she’s already dialing the number, “Robin what the fuck!”

“Hello?” A warm voice replies after a couple of rings.

“Oh… Hey… Eddie? I… I’m Steve.”

“Oh, Stevie.” Someone in the back makes a satiric comment while the man on the phone opens a door and moves somewhere quieter, “Are you feeling better? Did you drink a lot of water like I suggested?”

“I… yeah… I did… but…”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

That word triggers something in Steve's mind, a blurred memory of a group of men wearing leather jackets and talking loudly.

“I… Look… I know this sounds bad but I don’t remember what happened last night and I wanted to apologize if I made a fool out of myself.”

“Oh. Ok. Not what I was expecting, but it’s fine.” The voice sounds disappointed and it makes Steve’s heart ache.

“I’m so sorry…”

“It’s fine. Listen I have to go, the guys and I have a little concert and we’re in the middle of the soundcheck.”

“Oh. Yeah. You signed a big contract, right?”

“So you do remember something.” The man points out, amused, “You know what? Why don’t you come to see us? Tonight, at the HideOut, I promise not to let you drink until we talk.”

“At the HideOut? Tonight?” Robin grabs Steve's arm and points at herself, “Can I bring a friend with me?”

“Sure. See you there.”

When Eddie closes the call and goes back to the stage, Jeff is grinning, “So, is he still in love with you?”

“Don’t think so. He doesn’t remember me.”

“Oh, this sucks.” Gareth says, stopping the cymbals, “So what are you going to do?”

“The only thing anyone in his right mind would do: serenade him in front of a crowd!” Eddie chuckles while he grabs his guitar and adds a new song to their track listing and Freak winks at him.

“Bold choice.”

“I’m not going to chicken out. He said he loved me, right?”

When the doors open it isn't hard for Eddie to spot Steve, who is wearing a bright yellow sweater and stands out like a sore thumb in an ocean of dark jeans and black t-shirts.

They play the single they have just recorded and the crowd explodes, but Eddie’s eyes are pinned on Steve when he announces “Stevie, this one's for you.”

Eddie moves around the stage, getting back to back with Freak while playing, but he gets closer to the audience, searching for Steve's eyes when he sings, “And, want to treasure the rest of your days here, and, give you pleasure in so many ways dear.”

Once the concert ends, Eddie asks to bring Steve backstage and when he sees him, he winks, "I think we're doing things the other way around, but... would you like to go on a date with me?"

[fic-over-cannon]

Part 7: The Friend

part 6 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x fem!reader

summary: you confront jason for disappearing as soon as he’d gotten you into bed. it does end the way you’d hoped.

tags: angst, implied sexual content, drinking as coping mechanism, vomit

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 1.9k

a/n: this was a dialogue heavy update, so of course i struggled with it. i rewrote and reworked this a few times and i think this is as close to happy as i’m going to get. i’d love to know what you all think about it!

The diner’s too hot, warm air blasting directly onto the back of your neck. It’s the first time you’ve felt warm all weekend since stepping into Rei and Lina’s apartment what feels like a century ago. Fingers twitchy, you straighten the cutlery on its paper napkin. The minute adjustments do nothing to quell the nerves wriggling in your belly. Since the moment you woke up to a lonely bed, writhing, thrashing somethings had taken up residence in the pit of your stomach and the hollow of your throat. Your red dress sits crumpled at the bottom of your hamper, out of sight but not even close to out of mind. It’s not– it’s not just the leaving that had hurt. Everything before – the flirting, the kindness, the goddamn food – that was what stung. Jason hadn’t just been a ‘first name only forgotten in the morning’ hookup, he’d been your friend. He’d been someone you had trusted despite all your reservations with the messy bleeding parts of yourself. And he had left you behind. Fucker.

Jason slides into the booth across from you, silent. He looks...tired. Broad shoulders drooping, hair wild from fingers running through it, and bags the size of quarters heavy under his eyes. He stares back at your own dishevelled appearance. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it with a snap. You lean back onto the plastic coated cushion behind you and cross your arms. It’s hard to be angry when exhaustion is suffocating you both, but every moment that stretches out in the silence drips more venom into your veins. 

“I’m sorry,” Jason croaks, breaching this strange detente between you. “I’m– I’m sorry about Friday. You’ve been a good friend an’ I took advantage of that, took advantage of you, when you were vulnerable,” he takes a deep breath and soldiers on. “You’d been drinkin' and then the fucking mugger happened and– and that wasn’t a side of me I wanted you to see. Ever. You weren’t in the right mind for– for any of that and I knew that and I still kissed you back. I was supposed to look out for you an’ be the responsible one but I just took advantage without thinkin’. It was shitty of me to do that. I was a shitty friend and you deserved better– ” He pauses for breath and you interrupt him, incredulous that this of all things is what he is fixating on.

“That’s what you think I’m pissed about? Jason, I kissed you first so stop with whatever– ” you gesture at him “–this is. Yeah, I had a few drinks but I was already sobering up by the time we got to that alley and I was definitely sober after having a gun waved in my face. So get off your pyre of self-martyrdom because if anyone was taking advantage of the situation it was me. Jason, I’m angry because you’re my friend. You’re my friend and you left like I was just a random fuck.” Defeated you slump back in your chair. “I thought I– I thought at our friendship meant more than that to you but I guess not.” 

“Hello and welcome to Doris’s Diner, what can I get you started off with?” The waitress interrupts, cheerful voice a bucket of cold water. She looks back and forth between the two of you expectantly, pen tapping at her notepad. Her fixed smile starts to slip as she starts to notice the tense atmosphere.

“We’ll uh, just have water and we’ll let you know when we’re ready to order,” Jason intervenes. The two of you sit there in tense silence, unable to look each other in the eye but unable to look away, until the waitress returns with your drinks. Her smile is noticeably more forced. Perspiration beads on your glass, a fat droplet sliding down one side. Your fingers start twitching again and you grasp the paper wrapper of your straw. It shreds so easily under your nervousness.

“You are my friend, yeah?” He begins. “You’re maybe the best friend I’ve ever had. Us bein’ friends means everythin’. I was a coward, okay? ‘Cause I was afraid that you were gonna wake up and hate me and then I would have fucked up the only stable thing I’ve got goin’ for me.” Jason takes a breath and you glance back down at the pile of torn paper in front of you. Your heart feels about the same. “I think I fucked it up anyway.” Jason says wryly. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll do whatever it takes so we can be friends again.”

Friends. Friends. Friends. Every time he says the word another nail hammers home in the coffin of the faintly burning desire to one day mean something else. For all the little gestures and kind words to suddenly materialize into something more than platonic affection. You’re angry, now, but even that burning bile hadn’t been enough to kill that little bit of hope kept carefully safe in the recesses of your mind. When he had kissed you back, lips chapped and warm under your own, that hope had sparked, caught fire. Maybe the warmth in your chest hadn’t been one-sided after all. Friends. God, you wish he’d stopped saying that. You wish he’d told you that the real reason he ran away was because he was overcome by emotion, like the Byronic heroes you study finally feeling true emotion. You should have known better than to wish for anything you couldn’t make happen with your own two hands. 

“So what, then? Where does that leave us?” you ask, hands balling into fists in your lap. “We just forget the whole thing? Put it all behind us and just go on like we never even slept together?” Jason doesn’t manage to suppress the flinch at the reminder but his pasted on grin doesn’t slip. 

“If you’ll give me a second chance, I’ll make it up to you, make it like it never happened, yeah?” 

No matter how badly Jason wants to pretend as though nothing has happened, neither of you are good enough actors to pretend that nothing has changed. There’s an awareness of each other that hadn’t existed previously. An awkward self-awareness of your own bodies in relation to each other. The gulf between you yawns cavernous, despite Jason’s smiling attempts to paper over it. This bell can’t be un-rung. But Jason’s trying. So maybe things between you aren’t working out into the fairytale ending you had wished for. Maybe the attraction between you really is one-sided, that Jason had just slept with you out of pity and then regretted that decision. You aren’t going to get what you want. The question is, what are you willing to settle for?

“Fine, whatever, we pretend the sex never happened,” you agree, taking a perverse kind of pleasure in twisting in the knife, “But your ‘night job’? You bet I’m still pissed about you practically stalking me and using that as an excuse,” you say. 

A muscle in Jason’s jaw twitches. Good. Maybe, maybe if he grovels a little more you two can resettle the equilibrium of your friendship but that doesn’t mean your heart your ego still doesn’t feel the hurt. 

“Is it– is it gonna be a problem for you?” he asks, voice suspiciously boyish. “It’s not– it’s not something I can stop being.” 

“Okay, first of all, you’re focusing on the wrong thing again. I don’t give a shit that you’re the Red Hood as long as all that of that business stays far, far away. You don’t think I remember how bad the neighbourhood was when I was a kid? You think I don’t notice how much better it is now? Jesus Christ, at least give me some credit.” This has to be a side effect of too many hits to the head. How is he not getting this? “Two, the part that I’m actually freaking out over, is the part where you knew all the pass codes to my specific unit. You know, the part where you invaded my privacy?” your voice rises on the last word, other diners turning to stare at you. You shrink back down into your seat at the attention. 

“I do give you credit,” Jason says slowly, eyes puppy wide. “You’re one of the cleverest people I know.” 

“Oh yeah? Then what was all that bullshit about ‘ooh I’m the Red Hood an I know where everyone in the Alley lives’ huh?” you retort, throwing his words back in his face. 

“I do!” he exclaims. You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “Okay so I don’t. But you’re my friend!” he hurries to add. “And you walk home from the bus stop late at night sometimes so I, you know, swing by sometimes just to make sure you got home safe.”

You stare at him in shock. “You know that’s both incredibly sweet and creepy, right?”

“I’m uh, I’m aware that I’m not the most well-adjusted,” he says sheepishly.  

You turn and wave down the waitress. “Hi, could we get the number eight breakfast combo for him, the blueberry brioche french toast for me, and a side order of the breakfast sausage and whole wheat toast for the table. Thanks.” You hand the menus back to her and smile sunnily at her shell shocked expression. She walks off and you turn back to Jason. “I’m not explaining personal privacy and boundaries to you on an empty stomach. And you’re paying.” 

It’s frighteningly easy to fall back into the regular rhythm of your friendship. Jason nods in all the right places and tries to make you laugh, butters your toast for you before sliding it on to your plate. He asks questions, good questions, so he’s clearly listening. All of it feels just like the time Before. Before you knew what he tasted like, the solid heat of him over you. Before you knew the full heavy stretch of him and the way his brows furrow when he comes. It almost feels likes before, except for his eyes.

Jason won’t look you in the eyes as you talk, will barely even glance at your face. Oh he’s attentive enough, doesn’t miss a word or an expansive gesture. But you notice these things, just like you’ve always noticed the little things with Jason. You had noticed that Jason had turned to you the most, out of all of your mutual friends, paid attention to you most often, yet you hadn’t noticed just how much his gaze had weighed on you until it’s gone. You miss it, that comforting weight. It also makes something clear to you. 

Your friendship will never be the same, but if you’re willing to accept that, accept that you’re not going to get what you want, you might have something close to your former intimacy. One day. So you smile and you laugh and accept the olive branch with gritted teeth. You promise all can be forgiven, forgotten, that this whole morning hasn’t cost you anything but your heart and dignity. Waving down the waitress again, you order a mimosa and add it to Jason’s tab. If he’s gonna break your heart at 11:00 in the morning, well, his wallet can take the hit. The bubbles carry you through the rest of brunch, through your goodbyes and see you laters. Jason walks away, hands in his pockets, shoulders noticeably lighter. 

You turn to walk home, breakfast churning in your stomach, and promptly throw it up in the gutter. Swiping the back of your hand over your mouth, you straighten up and stagger onwards. Fuck your weakness for Jason Todd. And to think you had been so close to just laying out your feelings on a plate and serving it up to him until he’d opened his big mouth. Friends. You scoff. Friends.

part 8

[chryblossomjjk]

midnight mistakes | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING: m/18+

⇢ WC: 2.5k

⇢ WARNINGS: v brief sm*t, v slight angst, oc is sick rip, pregnancy scare putting their relationship to the test eep!!!, brief mentions of abortion (reader considers it)

⇢ SUMMARY: a midnight romp with jungkook leads to tears on your cheeks and a pregnancy test in your hand

⇢ NOTES: i miss writing sm so here's a lil drabble of our otp :') school has been v overwhelming lately and it makes me so sad that i don't have as much time to write on here anymore. hopefully, things will calm down soon. for now, enjoy this crumb!! i love you all, let me know what you think!! if you haven't read the series yet, pls read that before this if u want to!! this wasn't beta'd so i apologize for any grammar issues or typos rip

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

The sequence of events that landed you in this situation; having a teary, heaving breakdown in front of your bathroom mirror, was absolutely ridiculous, to say the least.

“I’m gonna kill someone,” you squeak, breathless from the endless stream of sneezes ripping through you. The glow of the alarm clock on your nightstand reads 1 a.m. as you reach for a tissue. Violently blowing your nose does little to ease its congestion. With a shaky sigh, you crumple the sodden napkin and toss it into the bin beside your bed; overthrown by contents alike. The wet ball hits the paper mountain before rolling onto your pretty pink area rug.

You shiver, how fucking disgusting. 

A stressful week of labs and quizzes has tanked your immune system, making you susceptible to all the little germs and illnesses that strike when the brisk winter air transitions into the pollen-laced breeze of spring. The antibiotics you were prescribed did little to help your runny nose and sore throat. Pausing the anime playing on your phone, you open your messages. 

dumbo love you, get some rest please xx

So much for getting rest. You weren’t expecting a text back. Jungkook had offered to spend the night, but you encouraged him to go. It was his last semester after all. Still, you were pouty and needy, wanting nothing more than to snuggle into his arms and let the swirls of his delicate fingers on your back lull you to sleep. Instead, here you were, confined to your bed, watching Naruto solo as Jungkook, Tae, and Mina lived it up; taking shots until they were belligerent. 

A distinguishable knock rattles the door before you can press play again.

“What are you doing here?” 

Jungkook stands in your doorway, oversized black tee hanging over his equally oversized green cargo pants. His cute little mullet falls in sweaty loops around his face. “Still feelin’ like shit?” He coos, cringing at your disheveled appearance and the croak in your voice. Ignoring your question, he holds up the various items in his big hands. “I picked up a few things; cough drops—not the cherry kind ‘cause those are fucking nasty,” you laugh at the side note, “—extra spicy ramen and hot sauce to clear out your sinuses.”

Your peer at the array of remedies with wide eyes. Their ability to cure your flu symptoms is questionable. You don’t even have a way of boiling water to make said ramen in your cramped dorm, but the sentiment has your chest swelling with something other than a violent cough for the first time in days. Abruptly, you pull him into a tight embrace. 

“Ah, I see,” he laughs, wrapping an arm around the small of your back and walking you back into the room, kicking the door closed behind him. “My Bambi missed me.”

“I did,” you nuzzle into him further, “but you shouldn’t be here… you should be having fun with your friends.”

“Nah, fuck ‘em,” he retorts playfully, putting the quote-unquote medicine down and then plopping onto the bed, taking you with him. “Besides, what kind of shit boyfriend ditches their sick girlfriend to go to a party anyways?”

“The kind that should be enjoying his last semester,” you frown. 

“I am, though. I enjoy spending time with you more than anything else.”

As he lays under you, black tresses splayed against your white comforter like a misshapen halo, you feel so incredibly lucky. Gently, you run your fingers through his choppy bangs, pushing them out of his doe eyes. “Have you been drinking?” 

“Not really, just a couple shots of Fireball and a few beers.” That much alcohol would have knocked you on your lightweight ass, but after years of beer pong and keg stands, Jungkook’s tolerance was damn near Kage level. It took a lot more than that to get him drunk. “I kinda…” he averts your gaze, something he does when he’s sad or guilty. “I felt really bad so I left.”

“Jungkook, I told you it was okay.”

“I know,” he nods, sliding a warm palm under your shirt, rubbing his thumb against your skin in soothing lines. “But I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” Using your fingertip, you brush an eyelash off the apple of his cheek. “Thank you… for coming back for me.”

“Of course, Bambi.” He leans up and presses a deep kiss to your dehydrated lips.

“Kook, stop,” you mumble, craning your neck back. “You’re gonna get sick.”

“I don’t care.”

It doesn’t take much convincing. If Jungkook doesn’t care, why should you? 

What follows is a battle of warm tongues and the needy clash of his bunny teeth against yours. Tender touches coax your Sailor Moon pajama set to the floor with the promise of Jungkook’s delicious love. Before you know it, you’re sinking down onto his hard length, fingers digging into his shoulders as he slouches against your headboard.

“Take it all,” he whispers, jaw slacking as he tilts his head down, getting a clear view of your wet cunt swallowing the remaining few inches. A slick film coats the two fingers he used to hold himself up for you as your lip pillow around the base. “Yeah, just like that.” His face contorts in pleasure, overcome by your warm, slippery walls after a week of illness-induced celibacy. “Feels good, huh baby? Tell me how good my dick makes you feel.”

He wants praise and dirty talk, but the tickle in your nose makes you pause, bracing yourself as a slew of sneezes pours out of you. Eight sneezes to be exact. Jungkook’s high-pitched cackle is drowned out by a shriek as you cup your hand over your leaking nostrils. “EW!”

“Shut up, it’s fine!” He grabs a tissue from the nearly empty box. “Lemme see,” he mumbles, pulling your hand down and wiping it clean, then doing the same to your face afterward and tossing the kleenex in your glittery pink trash bin. 

“I’m sorry,” you peep, completely mortified.

“Don’t worry.” The crooked bunny grin eases your nerves. “That was fire, actually. You clenched around me so tight.”

You squint at him and then bury your head into the crook of his neck. You make love to each other; slow and gentle. At one point, Jungkook locks his tattooed fingers in between yours, pecking your bare shoulder as lazy drags of your hips bring you both to writhing climaxes. And he looks so beautiful when he climaxes, gnawing at his lip piercing, skin dewy from sweat and the moonlight shining through the blinds. 

At that moment, you felt nothing but love and pure ecstasy. 

Isn’t it funny how pleasures of the past can create complete devastation in the present?

Clutching the edge of the porcelain sink, you stare down at the pink box of pregnancy tests. There’s tear stains on your cheeks. A pain in your lungs from all the sobbing. You wish Jungkook had been a shit boyfriend that night. You’d give anything to take it all back. 

Like a sixth sense, there’s a distinguishable knock at the door. 

“Hey, I-” he stops short, brows furrowing as his dark pupils scan your face. “Have you been crying?”

“What do you think?” You shouldn’t snap at him, but the waves of anxiety washing over you make you highly sensitive. Truthfully, you weren’t going to tell Jungkook any of this. His showing up had put an awful wrench in your plans. Well, unless the test came back positive. Then, you’d be forced to tell him. You clamp your hand over your mouth, the thought making you sick to your stomach. 

“__, take a deep breath. Sit down.” You do and he follows suit. “What's going on?”  

“I-” you gulp, swallowing back a whine, struggling to form a coherent sentence. There’s no escape, you have to confess. “I think I might be pregnant.”

There’s an eerie silence once the words hit the air, lingering over you both like a dark, dreary cloud. It takes Jungkook a moment to internalize the weight of the situation, but you can tell when the thunder strikes. The pink tinge in his cheeks fades to a stark, sickly white as he inhales shakily. “Fuck-” Leaning his elbows against his knees, he digs the heels of his palms into his eyes, shielding them. “I thought you were on the pill.” 

“I am, but I was taking antibiotics last week and I read that they can make birth control less effective- and I’ve been having symptoms lately.” It all comes out in a jumbled mess like word vomit. He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t move. And it scares you. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.” Despite his posture, his tone is still and calm. “I just… don’t know what to say. It’s a lot to take in.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as the floodgates finally burst. You were still in the swell of your STEM program. Jungkook is just about to graduate with a Bachelor’s in photography. Both of your lives would come to a screeching halt if the worst were true. You weren’t ready for a baby, not in the slightest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, don’t-.” Finally, Jungkook sits up, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side. The other arm repeats as he rests his chin on top of your head, rocking your shaking frame back and forth for comfort. “Don’t apologize, don’t cry. Why don’t you take a test before we start freaking the fuck out?”

You suppose he’s right. 

The walk to the bathroom is a blur. Suddenly, you’re on the toilet with that evil stick in hand. Jungkook is sitting on the floor with his eyes closed, knees bent and head leaned back against the wood of the cabinet. Normally, you’re extremely pee-shy. It literally will not come out. Under these circumstances, you can’t bring yourself to care. 

“You pee so softly,” Jungkook says through an airy laugh. “I pee really hard- and fast. Like-” he makes a little whooshing noise with his mouth, “like a hose.” 

“Baby, please,” you huff, setting the test aside and pulling your sweats up. You know he’s trying to ease your nerves, but this is one situation where his lighthearted jokes and comments ceased to make you smile. “This is serious.”

“Trust me, I know.” Spreading his legs, he pats the carpet between them. “C’mere.” As soon as you hit the ground he’s embracing you, trailing kisses all over your exposed skin. “What now?”

“Now,” you sigh, setting a timer on your phone for three minutes, “we wait.”

“You know… it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if it’s positive.”

“It would be absolutely awful, Jungkook.” It’s a sweet sentiment but you know he’s lying, right through his bunny teeth. Late-night conversations in bed about the future ring in your head. ‘Honestly, I don’t think I want kids,’ Jungkook had hummed in the middle of My Neighbor Totoro, ‘ever.’ Generally, you felt the same way, but the memory is terrifying in this context; sitting on the bathroom floor with him, waiting for an answer that could contradict all of your plans and possibly crumble the entire foundation of your relationship.

“Who am I kidding?” He chuckles humorlessly. “You’re right, it would be fucking awful.”

Nervously, you toy with the silver rings on his inked fingers. “What if it’s positive, Jungkook?”

“Let’s just wait until we get the results.”

“But what if it’s positive?” You twist in his arms, showing him your glassy eyes and deep frown. Showing him that his answer, regardless of what the test says, was very important to you. 

He blinks at you, lips opening and then closing promptly as he mulls over his words. “If it is… then we’ll take care of it.”

There’s a dual meaning to the sentiment that makes you chew on your bottom lip, eyes flickering up to the white ceiling to stop yourself from crying. Take care of it as in going through with it? Or take care of it as in… the other option? Honestly, the latter would be your first choice, and you’re sure it’s his as well. But for whatever reason, the fact that he assumed it makes your heart ache. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means whatever you want it to mean.” Gently, he smooths a hand over your trembling thighs before they frantically search for yours. “Just… whatever you want to do… whatever you want, I’ll support it… I’m here.”

A breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in releases in relief. You feel stupid for even questioning him. After all these months of unconditional love, you should know better. Bringing your locked hands up, you kiss his fingertips. The smile it brings out of him is just as soft as your touch. “I love you so much.”

“I love y-.”

He’s cut off by the blaring ring of your timer.

“Please, can you look?” You mumble, shaking your head and covering your eyes. “I can’t do it.”

You feel his torso twist against your back as he reaches for the test on your countertop. The time between him grabbing it and the dreaded answer feels like an eternity.

“Negative.” 

“Thank fuck!” You groan, doing a complete 180 and wrapping your arms around his neck in celebration. You haven’t felt this type of excitement since you were a child, waking up on Christmas morning and seeing colorful presents under the tree.

“What made you think you were pregnant in the first place?”

You hesitate to respond. In retrospect, it’s not as valid of a reason as you originally thought. “I’ve been feeling sick in the morning.”

Pulling back, Jungkook deadpans you. “Bambi, no shit. You’ve been sick all week.”

“I know but,” you pout, twirling a ringlet at the nape of his neck, “google said I could be pregnant…”

“You’re so fucking lucky you’re cute,” he laughs, holding you flush to him and nipping your cheek playfully. “You’ve got to be the most dramatic person I’ve ever met in my life.” You know he’s joking, but the comment makes your expression drop a bit. “But that’s part of the reason I love you so much. I’m never bored with you.”

Once again, you truly don’t know how you got so lucky. 

“Alright,” he huffs, using all of his strength to haul you up into the air and walk you back to your bedroom. Instinctually and habitually, you wrap your legs around his cinched waist. “We finished Avatar last time, so what’re we watching tonight?”

You click your tongue in contemplation. “Naruto.”

“Naruto? Bambi, isn’t Naruto like- a billion episodes long?”

When he tosses you down onto the mattress, you pout and bat your long lashes at him, pulling out all the provenly successful manipulation tactics. “Please?”

“Fine,” he grumbles, plopping down beside you. “But don’t be mad if I knock out.”

And like clockwork, Jungkook dozes off in the middle of the second episode, but that’s okay, because despite how horrible the pregnancy scare was, it truly solidified Jungkook’s presence in your life. You have all the time in the world to watch hours and hours of subpar filler episodes, and you’ll do it happily as long as you’re with him.

© chryblossomjjk 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost]

[littledovesnow]

vows

the wedding vows <3

word count: idk like 1k i think??

a/n: i cried writing this lol, also didn't proof this at all

-----

“Are you nervous?” You asked, sitting in the bridal suite with your newly minted husband, who kept spinning his new ring adorning his finger.

Shaking his head, he smiled up at you. “Not at all, gorgeous. Are you nervous? I’ve seen you ruminating over the vows since I got down on my knee.”

You felt your cheeks flush, sitting next to Coriolanus on the plush couch. This short period of time is something you and Coriolanus said was a necessity in this special day, wanting time to share vows and have a moment alone before all of the excitement and partying at the reception.

“I’m not entirely too sure if it’s nerves or excitement.” You admitted, fiddling with a loose string on the couch. “I feel like my vows are going to be so terrible, worse than any paper I had in school.”

Coriolanus frowned, squeezing your hand to get your attention. “I’m sure they’re wonderful.”

You gnawed on your lower lip, an awful habit you had developed in your teen years. “Do- do you want me to go first?”

“It’s up to you, my love.” Coriolanus murmured, not wanting to pressure you into anything, something you were so grateful he did.

“I think, I think I want you to go first.”

Nodding, Coriolanus pulled out the crumpled paper, eliciting a quiet laugh from you.

“Don’t laugh, my love is written on this paper.”

You held your hands up, your heart already swelling with love at the sight of the blonde man, who seemed just like the lanky acne-faced classmate you met all those years ago.

Clearing his throat, Coriolanus looked down at the paper for a moment, before saying your name in the velvety-smooth voice he used only when he was with you.

“I feel like I can conquer the world when you’re next to me, the love and strength you show is one of my favorite things about you. From when we were assigned lab partners, to mentoring at the Hunger Games, to being granted internships at the Citadel, you’ve always been the light I’m drawn to as a moth is to a flame. Thank you for loving me in my weakest times, for loving me when I was undeserving, I know that I’m not the easiest person to love. Thank you for always helping me be the best version of myself, for being the sole voice of reason in the echo chamber that is my life.”

You sniffled, Coriolanus glancing up at you with a soft smile before continuing his vows.

“From when you first came into my life, and didn’t bat an eye at my upbringing, my home, my family, I knew you were the one who would become my other half. You always treat Grandma’am and Tigris with the respect and love they deserve, for that I owe you my life. I vow to always put you first, I vow to keep you out of harm’s way, and I vow to be the best husband I can be. I vow to be the best father I can be, when the times comes, and I know you’ll be the world’s most amazing mother. I vow to love you without any reservations, to always be the reason for your gorgeous smile. I love you, my love.”

You were full-on crying when Coriolanus ended his vows, and he quickly exchanged the paper for the cloth napkins on the table, picking up the one that already had mascara stains on it from earlier.

“I love you, too, Coryo.” You mumbled, scooting over on the couch to hug your husband. “I love you so much.”

You two had a small moment of peace, before you sniffled and sat up, preparing yourself for your own vows.

Coriolanus gave your knee an encouraging squeeze, knowing you weren’t a fan of speeches in general, whether they be in front of large audiences or family friends.

“Coryo,” you started, knowing he wasn’t the biggest fan of when you said his full name, but you knew he would never react harshly to you. “From the day we first met, I felt like a magnet drawn to you. You wanted nothing to do with me, but I was determined to break you, to see the real you under the tough, serious exterior you’ve built up. And I am so glad I did, so glad I got to meet the real you, the Coryo who will laugh at my corny jokes, who will never complain when I steal the comforter in bed, who will take a bullet for me. You understand me, see me, accept me in a way that no one has before, you are truly my best friend, and I feel like the world’s luckiest woman to be able to call you my husband. I vow to always be your confidante, your partner-in-crime. I vow to  have the patience that love demands, to always listen before reacting, to give you my whole heart. You are my person, my lover, my life, today, tomorrow, forever. I love you, Coriolanus Snow, you hold the key to my heart.”

Coriolanus’ eyes were glistening when you looked up from your paper, and you just barely saw his lip quivering.

“Do you mean that?” He asked softly, not wanting to break the serene moment.

Nodding, you gave him a watery smile, a fresh wave of tears spilling onto your cheeks. “Of course I mean it, you goon.”

Coriolanus pulled you up, wanting to properly hug you, inhaling the fresh vanilla and chai from your shampoo. “You are the reason my heart beats.”

“As are you, Coryo,” you replied, smiling as his lips met yours.

“Now, let’s give the Capitol the wedding reception of their lives.” You laced your fingers with Coriolanus’, his wedding band cool on your own fingers.

“After you, Mrs. Snow.” Coriolanus smiled, eyes glinting with hunger as he called you by your new surname for the first time.

-----

a/n: okay you're all so lucky this was requested i saved you form angst like coryo saved lucy gray

but for real there's some good angst coming in the new year

[writers-potion]

Using Description and Setting Meaningfully

The setting, and a writer's description of it, is an essential part of any story. A good writer would use that setting for more than just a place for things to happen.

Use setting to emphasize other aspects of the story, such as:

Magnify the theme

Convey the general mood

Enlarge conflict

Magnifying Some Theme Through Description

Here's the thing about theme: modern readers aren't looking to be reformed. They wish to be entertained.

So, let description carry the burden of conveying the theme rather than you having to say it!

Side note: Theme is NOT a few haughty ideas you learn in lit class (like pride, beauty, everlasting love) but anything that you are trying to convey in a particular scene (like, trying to get a date). You can have several themes instead of one lofty philiosophical theme. That's fine.

The key here is to pick and choose the kind of details that contributes to the theme. A few examples:

Theme = oppression and manipulation of workers.

Aim = highlight deariness and tension

Setting: a break room in a factory

Details: slow ticking of a clock, raspy gurgling of a coffeemaker, completely utilitarian carpet and walls

Theme = teenager scheming a scam that his father already knows about

Aim = establish stealthy tension

Setting: the breakfast table

Details: toaster loudly launching two slices of bread at exactly the same moment that the teenager realizes his plan is ruined, catlike movements of the "stealthy"teen

Theme = a character's life is about to be transformed

Aim = show that change is imminent

Setting = train platform

Details: the darkness falling, colors of distant hills and the sky changining, the last train rolling in, workers happliy switching from "work mode" to "weekend mood" as the character waits for his train

Conveying Mood and Tone

The mood of a character determines how the story progresses.

If your main character is depressed, the plot will crawl on and take on a brooding, ominous tone. If he is determined, passionate and happy, the plot will speed up into loud, blowing action.

Often, the prevailing mood doesn't come from the character, but from the setting itself.

Again, let's explain by example:

Mood = Gloomy, baleful

Details: Sulphurous smoke, thick fog, horses' hoofs on cobbled streets, vendor's cries, unseen organ creaking out a sinister tune, sounds being muffled

Word choice is important. If you're conveying gloom, using strong verbs like creak, screech and adjectives like sinister and eerie.

Use sensory description: visual, auditory, tactile, olfactory and gustatory.

Another way is to describe simple actions:

Mood = irritation, aggression

Details: mashing the end of a cigarette in his plate, one draught of the coffee in his cup, wiping lips with his napkin - crumpling and dropping in on the table, standing up from the table, staring at the other person.

Mood = Giddiness

Details: flicking water from his glass on a lunch companion, twisting his napkin, playing with food without eating

Once you've established a prevailing mood, you've pretty much set the course of your story. No reader will expect the main character to party all night with loud rock music after a sinister description of his way back home.

Enlarging Conflict

Think of the things or actions that will eventually build up to the main conflict. Then, choose a setting that will naturally bring out such an action/ though from the characters in it.

Conflict = Woman hasn't spoken to her son for a decade and now, she has to confront him

Setting: House where she raised her son, among things that he hasn't seen in all that time, working bits of backstory into objects in the house (tie in a sofa, picture on the wall), mannerisms of the characters as they greet each other at the door.

Allow the setting to provide the little sparks that will blow up eventually. This way, you can effectively cut out that slow middle and jump into action without much effort.

Description is a matter of wordsmithing, of selecting preciosuly the right words to create certain meanings. Make every word and sentence count.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[justallmyfantasies]

usage of his backseat

everyone else seems to be hooking up so why can’t you?

series masterlist

contains: 18+ smut! (fingering, unprotected piv, teasing. i think that’s all idk.)

word count: 3.1k

MINORS DONT INTERACT!

music was beaming, was too loud for you. the air felt sweaty and gross. you had a drink in hand, sipping it slowly. you weren’t too fond of parties, but your friend convinced you to come.

you were sat at a table with a bunch of people you didn’t really know. you overheard some conversation of them being in a band but that didn’t really phase you. you were sat next a bald man. he had introduced himself to you as alex. but that was the only conversation you had with him.

you waited for your friend to finish making out with some man she met. honestly, you didn’t want to be there at all. you weren’t the partying kind of person.

you got up from alex’s side and decided to wander around the house. it was quite crowded and you saw many people kissing and doing who knows what, but you didn't care. you just didn't want to waste time at the party. suddenly, some guy you had never met before bumped into you, making you spill the drink you had in your hand.

the drink splattered over your shirt, and you could feel the wetness on your skin. you looked up at the man, ready to confront him. you muttered something to yourself instead, walking back to the table in annoyance.

as you walked back to the table, you could feel the irritation building up inside you. the sound of the loud music and chatter around you seemed amplified, making your already agitated state even worse. you tried to maintain your composure, but deep down, you cursed your friend for dragging you to this party.

as you approached the table, alex stared at you in confusion. “what’s happened to you?” he asked, fighting back a laugh.

you muttered under your breath, clearly annoyed. "i got bumped into by some twat who made me spill my drink all over my shirt." you grabbed a napkin, trying to wipe away the wetness, though it wasn't doing much help.

"looks like you should ditch the shirt," alex joked. he was obviously trying to lighten the mood but it wasn't working.

you rolled your eyes. "it's not like i can walk around shirtless, genius."

alex chuckled. "i'm sure you wouldn't hear any complaints." he wiggled his eyebrows, teasing you.

you felt a mix of embarrassment and amusement. "you're insufferable, you know that?" you said, unable to help but smile at his ridiculous antics.

the smile didn't go unnoticed by alex, who looked delighted that he had managed to put a grin on your face. "i'll take that as a compliment, love." he replied with a wink. you shook your head, still grinning despite yourself.

alex leaned in closer, his tone more serious now. "in all seriousness, though, you're right. you can't walk around like that. come with me, i'll give you a clean shirt." he stood up and gestured for you to follow. “i might have a spare shirt or summat in my car.”

you felt a mix of gratitude and curiosity. you followed alex, unsure of what to expect but curious nonetheless.

the night air was cool as you followed alex outside to his car. he rummaged through the backseat, eventually pulling out a slightly crumpled black t-shirt. he handed it to you, a playful grin on his face.

"thanks," you said, taking the shirt from him. the t-shirt felt oddly soft against your skin as you put it on, the fabric caressing your body in a way that was both comfortable and pleasant. despite your initial irritation earlier, you couldn't help but feel grateful for alex's help.

as you adjusted the shirt, you couldn't help but notice alex's gaze fixed on you. you looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. "what, is my outfit not up to your standards?" you asked, jokingly.

alex chuckled, stepping closer to you. "on the contrary," he said, his tone slightly lower. "you look quite appealing right now, i must say."

you felt a blush creeping up your neck, but you quickly brushed it off with a laugh. "flattery won't get you anywhere, baldy." you retorted playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

alex grinned, unfazed. "i'm not trying to get anywhere, love. just stating the truth." he took another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

there was an undeniable attraction between you two, but you resisted, not wanting to admit it to yourself. "you're full of yourself, you know that?" you replied, attempting to sound unaffected, but underneath, you couldn't deny that his proximity was affecting you.

"you don't seem to mind that much," alex teased, his voice tinged with amusement. he reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face before grabbing a cigarette from the pack in his pocket.

you couldn't deny that his touch sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. you tried to compose yourself, not wanting to reveal your inner turmoil. "flirt with everyone like this, do you?"

alex smirked, lighting the cigarette before taking a slow drag and exhaling a cloud of smoke. it was as if he took pleasure in watching you squirm beneath his gaze.

"not everyone," he replied cryptically, his eyes never leaving you. the smoke from his cigarette swirled around the two of you, the smell a mix of desire and allure. you found yourself unable to break eye contact, as if mesmerized by the energy radiating from him.

you felt your heart beat a little faster as alex's cigarette smoke swirled around you. the scent of tobacco mixed with whatever cologne he wore enveloped your senses, creating an intoxicating blend that only seemed to heighten the tension between you two.

without thinking, you stepped closer to him, drawn by an irresistible force. you met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and desire.

alex's lips curved into a pleased smile, as if he had been waiting for you to make the first move. with a slow and deliberate motion, he leaned in, his lips hovering mere millimeters from yours. the cigarette smoke mingled with your breath, creating a lingering taste of temptation. he finished his cigarette, dropping it on the floor and stomping on it. then he looked back up at you.

and there, in that moment, the space between your faces seemed to shrink to an almost unbearable intensity. it was as if the world around you faded away, and all that remained was this delicate dance of desire and anticipation.

with the slightest of movements, alex closed the gap, his lips lightly brushing against yours in a tantalizing kiss. the taste and feel of his breath mingling with yours sent a wave of electricity coursing through you, making you crave for more.

you responded to the kiss, unable to resist the magnetic pull of the moment. you allowed yourself to be swept away by the sensations, losing yourself in the passionate embrace.

as the kiss deepened, you felt alex's hand gently glide down your back, pulling you closer to him. the touch was both tender and possessive, and you willingly surrendered to the desire that was building within you. the sound of your beating hearts blended with the muffled music in the background, creating a symphony of shared longing.

the kiss continued, growing more passionate with each passing second. alex's tongue danced with yours, exploring and teasing in a way that made your head spin. you wrapped your arms around his neck, wanting to feel every inch of him against you. the world around you didn't matter anymore—all that mattered was the heat between your bodies and the intoxicating taste of alex's lips.

alex guided you towards the open car door. his lips traced a path from your mouth to your neck, leaving a trail of longing and anticipation with each touch. the cool night air mingled with the heat of your desire, creating a perfect balance of sensations.

with tender firmness, alex eased you down onto the back seat of his car, the leather seat softly molding to your body. he moved atop you, his face only inches away from yours, a mix of longing and mischief in his eyes.

as alex continued to kiss you, his hands began to explore your body with a newfound intensity. they roamed from your neck to your shoulders, then further down, tracing a path along your curves. it was as if his touch ignited a fire within you, and you responded eagerly, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer still.

the passion intensified, and you both knew that there was no turning back now. the boundaries between you had vanished, replaced by a primal hunger that consumed everything else around you.

alex's hands began to explore beneath your shirt, tracing patterns that sent shivers down your spine. he took his time discovering every inch of your exposed skin as if committing each curve and contour to memory. the sensation of his touch against your skin was both electrifying and comforting, a mix of sensations that made you crave for more of his attention.

you gasped as alex's hand moved to unhook your bra, the anticipation building within you. he looked into your eyes, his gaze heavy with desire, seeking permission for what was to come next. you couldn't find the words to respond, but your body answered for you as you pressed your lips against his in a frantic kiss, urging him to continue.

alex obliged, his hands becoming more confident as he removed your shirt and bra, leaving you exposed to his gaze. his eyes flickered over your naked torso, and you could feel his reverence and desire in every moment he took to appreciate your body.

alex's lips once again returned to your neck, planting a trail of kisses that made you arch into him. he whispered words of praise and adoration, his voice a mix of reverence and longing. "you are beautiful," he murmured as his lips moved lower, tracing a path down your chest and over your breasts.

you let out a soft moan, unable to hold back the rush of emotions coursing through you. alex's touch was both tender and urgent, a combination that left you both craving and satisfied at the same time. as you arched into him, each kiss intensified the building tension between you.

alex's lips left a trail of kisses down your stomach, slowly moving lower. the anticipation of what was to come had you reeling with desire. his hands moved down, unfastening your pants with practiced ease. as they inched lower, the air around you seemed to crackle with electricity.

you lifted your hips, allowing alex to slide your pants off, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. he paused for a moment, his eyes raking over your exposed body, taking in every inch. you could sense the hunger and need in his gaze, fueling his actions.

alex's fingertips traced the edge of your underwear, teasingly trailing around the elastic band, before finally slipping under it. “oh my.” you whimpered.

his touch was like a tantalizing dance, igniting a fire within you that only intensified as he moved further downwards.

the sensation of his exploring fingers was both pleasurable and excruciatingly slow. you could feel alex's breath against your heated skin, and you longed for more. you arched towards him, trying to quicken his rhythm, wanting nothing more than for him to relieve the ache that was growing inside you.

alex's fingers continued their path downward, finally reaching the one place that craved his attention the most. he circled the sensitive spot with careful and deliberate precision, sending a wave of pleasure through your body and causing your breath to hitch.

you felt yourself getting closer to the edge, unable to contain the pleasure that was building within you. as alex's fingers continued to expertly explore your most intimate area, you couldn't help but let out a series of small, urgent moans, pleading for more.

his movements were relentless, each touch sending shocks of pleasure coursing through your body. your hands grasped at his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself as the sensations overwhelmed you. you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the point of no return.

finally, as alex's touch sent you over the edge, you cried out his name, your orgasm shaking you to your core. you clung to him, riding the waves of pleasure that washed over you. slowly, you came back down to earth, your breathing steadying and your body relaxing into the afterglow.

alex stayed close to you, holding you in his arms and pressing gentle kisses along your neck as you trembled. he ran his fingers through your hair, soothing you and offering comfort in the aftermath of the intense moment you had shared.

as your breathing returned to normal, you looked at alex and noticed his own longing desire hadn't been fulfilled. you could feel his need radiating off of him, a powerful undertone to the gentle comfort he was providing.

you reached out to him, your touch a silent plea for more. you wanted to give him the same pleasure he had given you, to return the favor and share in the intimacy that had taken hold between you. he looked at you, his eyes meeting yours with mutual understanding and longing.

you leaned in, meeting his lips in a tender kiss, and began to explore his body with your hands, mimicking the touches he had given you earlier. you could feel his desire for you, and it only intensified your own hunger. you moved your hand lower, teasing the waistband of his pants.

alex moaned softly, his breath hitching at your touch. he eagerly helped you remove his clothes, exposing his bare torso to your gaze. your fingers traced the contours of his chest, exploring every dip and curve with an unhurried curiosity.

his body was like a playground for your senses, and you couldn't get enough. you ran your fingers down his chest, savoring the way his muscles tensed in anticipation. your touch journeyed lower, reaching the edge of his boxers, and you teased the elastic band with your fingertips.

“tease.”

you chuckled, continuing your action. alex inhaled sharply, his breath coming in short bursts as your fingers continued to toy with the waistband of his boxers. his desire for you was evident in the way his hips arched up to your touch, silently urging you to go further, to bring him the same pleasure he had given you.

your fingers toyed with the band, lingering just long enough to stoke the flames of anticipation within you both. you could feel his body thrumming with excitement, a mirror to your own eager responses. finally, with a gentle tug, you slid his boxers off, exposing his arousal to your gaze.

alex let out a soft gasp at the sudden exposure, his eyes never leaving your face. he looked at you with a mixture of anticipation and desire, his need for you clear in every line of his face. his hands reached out, gently grasping your hips, urging you closer.

you moved closer, positioning yourself on him, sinking down on his length. in that moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the fire that burned between you. you captured his lips in a burning kiss, pouring your passion and desire into the embrace, as your bodies moved and grinded together in a dance of want.

the connection between you was electric, an explosive mix of lust and desire. the heat between your bodies was a tangible thing, and it was intoxicating. you could feel his every movement, his hands exploring your body, as if mapping out a territory he wanted to claim.

the night air carried soft sighs and moans of pleasure as you worked in perfect tandem. time held no meaning in this intimate haven you had created, only the ebb and flow of sensations and passion mattered. each movement, each touch, amplified the growing anticipation, drawing you closer to the pinnacle of pleasure.

alex pulled you closer, increasing the tempo of your movements, his lips finding the sensitive spot on your neck. he murmured words of praise and encouragement, his voice a low growl of pleasure that echoed through you, magnifying your desires. you responded to his words with a symphony of breathy moans, your body moving of its own accord, seeking the elusive release that danced just out of reach.

you could feel the pressure building, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to crash over you. it was an exquisite tension, the delicious balance between sweet surrender and desperate yearning. alex's body moved beneath yours, his hips meeting each of your movements with a precision that mirrored the hunger in his eyes.

your release came with a crescendo of sensations, a wave of pleasure that washed over you and left you trembling in its wake. alex's name on your lips was a sweet sound, a testament to the profound connection you shared. he soon followed, a low groan escaping his lips as he reached his climax, his body tensing beneath you.

you collapsed onto him, your bodies melding together in a tangle of limbs and shared intimacy. you lay there, catching your breath, the echoes of your pleasure still thrumming through you. the world outside the car windows seemed distant, as if the party and its noise could never penetrate the sanctuary you had found in each other's arms.

as you came down from the high you had achieved together, you and alex lay entwined, the silence between you both filled with contentment and comfort. you shifted slightly, your head resting on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart against your cheek. the sound of the party outside faded away, replaced by the tranquil cadence of shared respiration.

alex wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer in a tender embrace. he placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, his fingers lightly drawing circles on your back. it was a moment of quiet bliss, a space for two souls to bask in the afterglow.

“i’d like to see you again.” he spoke, the words falling soft from his mouth.

you smiled, lifting your head to look at him. the dim lighting of the car created a soft ambience, making the moment feel all the more intimate.

"i'd like that too." you replied, your voice carrying the certainty of your feelings.

alex's smile widened, and he traced a gentle finger along your jawline, a gesture both tender and possessive. "consider it a date then." he murmured, his husky voice laced with an undertone of desire.

you nodded, your heart fluttering with anticipation. "it's a date," you affirmed, sealing the promise with a soft, lingering kiss.

a/n: as i got to proofreading i actually realised how much i don’t like this but i wanted to post bald al and i’ve been writing then restarting this all day so just have this thanks bye 🙋🏻‍♀️

[baekhyunsbestie]

♡⸝⸝ sparks and vows (bbh series!) ⊹。°˖➴

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧♡₊˚ pics 1 2 ♡ song・₊✧♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧🥂

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 pairing: soloist!baekhyun x unnamed female o/c (y/n) aka [✶] ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 content: 18+/MDNI. smut, romance, wedding!au, angst, fluff, exos and o/c's, pussy whipped baek, ex-playboy baek, ceo nepo baby reader, smut (tbh probs every chapter), language, scenes with alcohol +/or smoking throughout story, pretty tame tho tbh!!! ଘ(ᵕ˵ ૩ᵕ)━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ baekhyun is down bad like real bad, reader lowkey being a lil punk, also ksoo cant read the room 😭 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 wc: 7.9k+ omg 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 a/n: omg so im going to start putting [✶] and just know that means (y/n) k? k :') as always lmk ur thoughts!! <3 hehe mwah

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it was that in-between time when night lingers in the air, yet morning remains a distant thought. [✶] lay fast asleep in baekhyun’s arms, their naked bodies intertwined, sheets tangled beneath them like the remnants of a dream. outside the window, the city lights flickered softly, a quiet backdrop to the intimate chaos within. baekhyun's room was evidence of their passion—a scatter of clothing across the floor, nightstands cluttered with the remnants of their shared moments, condom wrappers, and crumpled napkins bearing witness to the night’s intensity.

baekhyun watched her sleep, completely captivated by the gentle rhythm of her breathing, each rise and fall of her chest like a soft melody that tugged at something deep within him. she looked so serene, so devastatingly beautiful, and it sent his heart into a wild, unfamiliar rhythm. this wasn’t who he was—love had always seemed like a distraction, something that pulled focus from what truly mattered. for the last 15 years, his life had been dedicated to music, every beat of his heart, every ounce of his passion poured into his art. it was his everything—until now.

now, baekhyun held [✶] close, her body fitting against his like they’d been crafted for this moment, his arms wrapped around her with the kind of desperation that comes from realizing you’ve found something you didn’t even know you were missing. less than a day ago, she was just a stranger, someone whose name he didn’t even know. yet here she was, tangled in his arms as if she had always belonged there.

it wasn’t out of character for him to bring someone home after a night out—it was routine, a brief escape that ended with the sunrise and no strings attached, inevitably leaving a trail of frustrated women, disappointed by the imbalance between their hopes and his intentions. but this? holding [✶] long after the moon had set, thinking about her like she was more than just another fleeting moment? it shook him. the sharp, sweet ache in his chest made no sense. he had no room for this—no room for her. his life was full, overflowing with plans, projects, and the relentless pace of his career. he didn’t have the time or the ability to be the kind of partner she deserved. yet something inside him was urging him to try, to just see where this could go. and the thought of treating her like all the others—women who were here one night and gone the next—felt impossible. she was different, and he couldn’t imagine letting her slip away the same way.

a storm of emotions raged inside him, battling between running from the overwhelming intensity of it all or surrendering completely, losing himself in the feeling of her in his arms. the dawn was creeping closer, and with it, the inevitable confrontation of reality. what would he say when the first light touched her skin? how could he possibly put into words the confusion and intensity that gripped him?

‘so, [✶],’ he could imagine himself saying, half-joking, half-serious. ‘last night was unbelievable. and god–the sex? THE best i’ve ever had, hands down. but, uh… now i think i’m starting to feel something real, something genuine.’

but no, that couldn’t be right. he couldn’t possibly feel that way—not after just one night.

except, maybe that was exactly the whole fucking point. he’d only known [✶] for such a short time, yet she had already flipped his entire world upside down. and of course, he didn’t know her in the traditional sense—there were no shared experiences, no history between them. but somehow, he felt like he knew her. like her soul had been cut from the same fabric as his, and no matter how crazy it seemed, it just felt right.

as he navigates a whirlwind of emotions—excited by the possibility of a future together and grateful for the universe’s twist of fate—he’s also plagued by persistent doubts. the question, ‘what if it doesn’t work out?’ echoes relentlessly. amidst this emotional storm, one truth stands unwavering in his heart: he wants [✶].

he wants all of her—the good, the bad, and everything in between. for the first time in his life, baekhyun doesn’t feel the insistent urge to run away. that thought alone is both terrifying and freeing. with his arms still wrapped around her and her warmth grounding him in a way he’d never felt before, baekhyun’s eyes finally grow heavy. as sleep overtakes him, only one thought remains: ‘i want ✶’.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

as the morning sun filters through baekhyun's bedroom curtains, casting a soft glow over their still-entwined bodies, [✶] stirs awake. the weight of the previous night crashes down on her with an almost physical force.

the first thing she notices, with a wave of relief, is the absence of a pounding headache or any trace of a hangover. silently, she thanks the gods for sparing her the consequences of her indulgence. but as awareness creeps in, the feel of her bare skin against baekhyun’s sends a surge of insecurity through her. instinctively, she pulls the covers tighter around herself, though her head remains nestled on his chest, just as it was when she fell asleep.

his chest rises and falls beneath her, his slow, steady breaths a sign that he's still deep in slumber. she glances up through heavy-lidded eyes, a soft smile forming as she takes in his peaceful features—the defined bridge of his nose, the pout of his lips, the few scattered freckles that dot his face. his slightly tousled hair falls gently over his forehead, enhancing his impossibly breathtaking appearance.

as her body fully awakens, the remnants of last night’s passion make themselves known, a dull ache settling in her thighs and core—a reminder of just how unforgettable the night had been.

oh, last night was pure magic.

from the very first moment, an undeniable spark ignited between them—a fusion of laughter and playful banter that effortlessly drew them closer with each shared joke. the attraction was magnetic, their energies blending in a way that felt almost fated. by the time they made it back to baekhyun’s place, a deeper intimacy had already begun to unravel as they stripped away layers of themselves, exposing vulnerabilities and desires. every movement between them was fluid, like a perfectly choreographed dance, each touch and caress in sync, flowing seamlessly. when their lips finally met, it was breathless, electric, as if every kiss was proof of the chemistry they couldn’t deny. there was no awkwardness or hesitation—just a quiet, unspoken understanding that made everything feel effortless and right.

despite the magic of the night and the waves of pleasure baekhyun had given [✶], she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she was just another conquest. another notch on his belt.

she had been fully aware of the boundaries she was crossing when she let things go as far as they did. but now, lying there in the dim morning light, she couldn’t shake the nagging doubt. was it the ache of loneliness, stretching back months before her breakup, that had driven her into baekhyun’s bed? the realization made her feel small and pitiable. this was supposed to be what she wanted—just a night of fleeting pleasure. she’d never intended for anything more, had she?

baekhyun’s reputation wasn’t a mystery. she knew his story, his resistance to commitment. hana had given her all the warnings. so why did she feel this sense of disappointment creeping in? did she really think he’d change for her? the thought twisted like a knife in her chest, leaving her feeling small and foolish.

the more she dwelled on it, the worse it got. her mind spiraled, and what had started as a gnawing insecurity quickly turned into a suffocating weight pressing down on her. each breath felt harder than the last. the comfort she’d found with baekhyun now felt like a cage she desperately needed to break free from.

with delicate, almost trembling grace, she gently disentangles herself from baekhyun’s hold, slipping out of his bed as silently as a shadow slipping through the night. she dresses with deliberate care, each movement slow as though she fears shattering the fragile peace. her heart feels heavy, weighed down by a whirlwind of unspoken fears and doubts.

she pauses for a moment, casting one last, lingering glance at the man she’s leaving behind, her chest tightening with the unvoiced turmoil inside her. then, she quietly turns toward the door, each step a soft whisper of the internal struggle pulling her away from the comfort she craves.

“where are you going?” his voice is soft but laced with urgency, cutting through the silence as [✶] freezes at the front door of his apartment, her hand on the doorknob. she turns, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him. baekhyun stands in the doorway of his bedroom, the morning light spilling through the curtains, casting a warm glow on his skin. his usually confident demeanor is nowhere to be found—his lips are trembling ever so slightly, betraying a fear he’s never known before. 

but this time is different. this time, the thought of her leaving without even saying goodbye has shaken him in ways he wasn’t prepared for.

“i... i just thought i should go,” she mumbles, avoiding his gaze. it feels safer that way, to not see the way he looks at her, like he cares—like this is more than just another fleeting moment for him. because if she looks, she might start believing it. and she can't afford to be that naive.

baekhyun takes a step closer, his expression growing more concerned. “w-why?” his voice is quieter now, softer, as if he's afraid of scaring her away completely. “did i...do something wrong?”

the question nearly shatters her. no, he didn’t do anything wrong. he did everything right. maybe too right. it was her who was messed up. her thoughts swirl, and the doubts she had managed to suppress crash back down on her, heavier than before.

not only is he saying all the right things, it definitely doesn’t help that he looks absolutely unreal. his toned abs are visible beneath the loosely held sheet around his waist—not overly muscular, but defined just enough to show the faint lines of his effort. his hair, still messy from the night before, frames his face with an effortless charm. strands fall messily across his forehead, his undercut now more visible, revealing the sharp contrast between the tousled top and the freshly shaved sides. 

“i just... don’t want to complicate things,” [✶] whispers, her throat tightening. “we both know this wasn’t meant to be anything serious.”

baekhyun’s jaw clenches, his expression hardening for a brief moment, but it softens again almost immediately. “who said that?”

his words catch her off guard. she looks up at him, finally, her brows furrowing as she tries to gauge the sincerity in his eyes. “you don’t have to say that. we both know what this is. you don’t have to pretend.”

his dark eyes search for hers, filled with a sense of longing and desperation that makes her heart skip. the way he’s looking at her isn’t just lust or satisfaction from a night well spent. no, it’s more. it’s something real, something vulnerable.

“[✶],” he steps closer, and for the first time, there's a sense of urgency in his voice, “i’m not pretending. i don’t know what this is, but i know it’s not nothing. i didn’t–i don’t want you to leave.”

her heart stumbles at his admission. she wasn’t expecting that. she was expecting indifference, a casual goodbye, maybe even relief on his part. but instead, she finds herself facing a man who seems genuinely rattled by the thought of her walking out of his life.

“why?” she blurts out before she can stop herself. the question is raw, tinged with the vulnerability she’s tried so hard to hide. “why would you care if i leave? i’m just another girl to you, right?”

his eyes darken with frustration, and before she can retreat any further, he closes the distance between them. “no. you’re not just another girl.” his voice is firm, with an edge of desperation. “if you were, i wouldn’t be standing here right now, trying to figure out why you’re running away. i wouldn't have tried so fucking hard all night to get you to agree to go on an actual date with me.”

she swallows hard, her mind racing. this wasn’t the baekhyun she had expected—the one standing before her now felt different, almost… vulnerable. it threw her off balance, disarming in a way that left her both intrigued and unsettled. this glimpse of him, raw and open, scared her more than she wanted to admit.

“you don’t know what you’re saying,” she mutters, turning her face away, her voice barely above a whisper. “you don’t know what you want.”

baekhyun’s hand reaches out, gently grasping her wrist, not to restrain her, but to ground her. “maybe i don’t,” he admits, his tone softer now. “but i know i want to find out. with you.”

his words land like a punch to the gut, stirring something deep inside her, something she’s trying so hard to bury. it would be so easy to believe him, to let herself hope. but her insecurities scream louder than the quiet sincerity in his voice.

“i’m scared,” she finally admits, the truth spilling out before she can stop it. “i don’t want to be just another one of your conquests.”

baekhyun’s grip on her wrist tightens just a fraction, as if silently reassuring her. “and you’re not. look, i don’t know what i’m doing either. i admit, when it comes to my love life, i’ve been a mess for a long time. but last night... it wasn’t just fun for me. like i said, i didn’t want it to end, and i’m not ready for it to end yet.”

her heart races, battling against her fear, her doubts. she wants to believe him. god, she wants to so badly. but the weight of her past, of her insecurities, makes it so hard to trust, to let herself fall.

she whispers, her voice trembling. “why does it feel like i’m setting myself up to get hurt?”

baekhyun exhales slowly, stepping even closer, so close she can feel the warmth of his skin, the sincerity radiating off him. "because i’ve been that guy before,” he says, his voice low and regretful. “i know what you’ve heard about me, and i know it makes me look untrustworthy. but i’m trying to be different. i want to be different. for you.”

her breath catches, and for a moment, she doesn’t know what to say. she’s standing at a crossroads, one where she can either run from this potential or take a leap into the unknown, into the terrifying, fragile possibility that baekhyun might actually mean what he says.

“just stay,” he pleads, his eyes searching hers. “we don’t have to figure it all out right now. just... stay. at least let me make you a coffee.”

and in that moment, she realizes she’s not the only one who's afraid. he’s scared too—scared of losing something real, something that might be worth the risk.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“thanks for meeting me so early,” hana says, her voice light yet tinged with a hint of mischief as she glances at [✶]. she raises her glass, savoring a generous sip of her mimosa, the citrus tang lingering on her lips. “i hope you’re not too hungover from last night.”

after the events of the previous evening—and everything that followed—hana had insisted on brunch. [✶] had reluctantly agreed, though she had wished to stay wrapped up in baekhyun’s arms a little longer. she stayed for coffee, at least, and during that brief pause, they had talked. they agreed to take things slow, letting the pace be hers. it was new for both of them, but they decided they’d figure it out together.

still, she wasn’t fully convinced. as baekhyun spoke, opening up in a way she hadn’t expected, there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind, reminding her of all the reasons she should be cautious. part of her wanted to believe him—his sincerity did seem genuine.

then, before she could overthink further, another voice—softer, almost hopeful—urged her to agree. give him a chance, just this once.

so then she nodded in agreement, the words tumbling out of her mouth almost reflexively. 'yeah, okay. sure. we’ll take it slow. let’s see where this goes.' the second she said it, she felt the weight lift slightly, though her heart still carried the lingering burden of doubt.

as soon as their conversation came to a close, [✶] had barely managed to get through half of her cup before baekhyun swept her up, carrying her bridal-style back to his bedroom to pick up where they left off the night before.

baekhyun had been between [✶]'s legs when hana called. she forwarded the call to voicemail the first couple of times, her focus lost in the heat of baekhyun’s mouth. the third call, baekhyun paused long enough to nudge her to answer. “it might be important,” he murmured, his lips still brushing her skin. breathless, she agreed, assuming he’d give her a moment of peace to handle it.

just seconds into the call, baekhyun dove back in, his lips finding their place between [✶]'s thighs once again. her back arched in response, a hand flying to her mouth to stifle the moan that nearly escaped. his quiet chuckle vibrated against her, making her toes curl. he was tormenting her and he was relishing every second of it.

hana had asked to meet for brunch later that morning, and despite the overwhelming distraction, [✶] couldn’t bring herself to say no. hana would immediately sense something was off if she refused, and [✶] wasn’t ready to explain what—or rather, who—was keeping her busy. with a steadying breath, she agreed to brunch, trying to sound as casual as possible, all while baekhyun continued his irresistible teasing beneath the sheets.

before she could even say goodbye, baekhyun snatched her phone, powered it off, and tossed it lightly across the room and out of her reach.

she shot him a disbelieving look, her mouth hanging open in shock. “baek, did you seriously just throw my phone?”

“don’t worry, babe,” he murmured, his lips brushing gently against her thighs, punctuated by playful nibbles. “if it’s broken, i’ll just get you a new one.” he said it with such effortless ease, his tone carrying an unspoken promise—he wasn’t done with her just yet.

she released a shaky breath, her body trembling from the waves of pleasure surging through her. the sight alone was almost enough to push her over the edge—his plush, pink lips enveloping her completely, his relentless tongue expertly circling her most sensitive spot. the dark, intense look in his eyes never left hers, watching her fall apart beneath his touch, turning her into a helpless mess. he was being so mean.

“why do i get the feeling you’re going to be the death of me, byun baekhyun?”

a wicked, self-satisfied grin twisted his lips at the desperate, broken whine that bubbled up from her. god, that sound was like pure, addictive nectar to him—he couldn’t get enough. his touch was merciless, each stroke and caress a calculated torment meant to make her squirm and beg. her thighs clamped down on his head, nearly crushing him, and he thrived on the way she writhed with pleasure. he was consumed by an unholy hunger to hear every gasping whimper and frenzied moan she made. nothing was too extreme, no act too cruel, just to keep her trembling and on the edge of madness. he’d happily lose himself entirely—drown in her juices—if it meant he could keep hearing those sweet, desperate sounds that drove him wild. to him, her pleasure was an intoxicating obsession, and he’d do anything to keep those sounds coming.

in his haze, the thought of returning to his old playboy ways was utterly inconceivable. how could he go back to such meaningless encounters now that he had experienced the depth of having [✶] beneath him, that he had tasted her so intimately? the fleeting pleasures of his past life were nothing compared to the all-consuming need he felt for her. the idea of being with anyone else, of indulging in any other woman’s touch, was abhorrent to him. he needed her and only her, every day, every night, for the rest of his days. the sheer thought of anything else was a betrayal of the dark, obsessive desire that now consumed him.

now, sitting in the bustling restaurant, surrounded by the sounds of clinking glasses and lively chatter, the air warm and fresh as they chose a spot outside, [✶] tried to ground herself in the present. the late morning sun bathed the two friends in a gentle glow, the rays caressing their skin with a comforting warmth.

[✶] smiled, mirroring her best friend as she took a slow sip of her drink. “well, when my best friend calls, i answer.”

she cleared her throat, trying to push away the vivid memory of baekhyun’s touch while she answered that very call, her pulse quickening momentarily. the contrast between the intimate, fevered haze of the morning and the casual brunch setting was stark, and [✶] struggled to keep her composure as she engaged in light conversation with hana.

hana's lips curled into a smile at [✶]'s remark, but that smile slowly fell once her gaze drifted lower. her eyes locked onto something just above [✶]'s collarbone—a faint mark, barely concealed under the edge of her cardigan, but unmistakably there.

"um, what the hell is that?!" hana’s voice practically squealed with excitement as she pointed at the mark, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

[✶] froze, her face a mask of horror. they hadn't even been sitting at the table for five minutes, and hana had already spotted it. her mind scrambled for an excuse, but she came up empty-handed. before she could even react, hana’s eyes widened in delight. "oh, you dirty whore! i knew you went to baekhyun’s last night! is that why you kept declining my calls this morning?!"

“hey, weren’t you the one telling me to have fun?” [✶] retorted, her hand instinctively flying to cover the mark, her sudden insecurity evident as hana’s gaze bore into her with playful intensity.

desperate to divert the attention away from herself—and the telltale mark on her neck that her best friend’s keen eyes had already noticed—[✶] blurted out, "anyway, what’s up? i’m shocked kyungsoo’s not too busy basking in 'betrothed bliss' to let you out of his sight." her words came out in a rush, the playful jab at her friend laced with a hint of anxiety as she tried to steer the conversation away from the previous night’s events.

hana narrowed her eyes playfully, giving her best friend a knowing look that promised a full interrogation about baekhyun later. with the tension between them dissolving, she relaxed back into her seat, a soft smile playing on her lips. "well, if you must know, i do have a little surprise for you."

she then reached down and brought out a stunning bouquet of flowers, the delicate pinks and whites of peonies and carnations mingling with the airy softness of baby’s breath. the arrangement was breathtaking, each bloom carefully selected to create a harmonious blend of color and fragrance. as [✶] took the bouquet, the sweet scent of the flowers filled the air, wrapping her in a comforting embrace. but it wasn’t just the flowers that caught her attention.

as [✶]'s eyes drifted down, she noticed the newspaper wrapping the bouquet—a charming and personal touch. on it was a nostalgic picture of the two of them as children, arms wrapped around each other, their smiles wide and full of innocent joy. above the image, a headline in bold letters asked, ‘will you be my maid of honor?’

tears welled up in [✶]'s eyes, her heart swelling with happiness at the heartfelt proposal. she looked directly across the table at hana, her voice choked with emotion. “oh my god, hana, of course i’ll be your maid of honor!”

the two rise from their seats, the excitement in the air nearly palpable. as they step into each other's embrace, the hug is tight and full of unspoken emotions—love, pride, and the overwhelming joy of this moment. [✶] feels her chest swell with happiness for her best friend, the kind that makes her eyes glisten with unshed tears. this is a moment she'll cherish forever.

as they settle back down, [✶] takes hana's hand, her grip firm and reassuring. "i promise you, i'm going to make this wedding everything you've ever dreamed of," she says, her voice filled with determination and warmth. "you know i'm the best when it comes to planning and parties," [✶] brags with a playful smirk. "you won't even have to lift a finger. you can count on me."

hana grins and winks at her, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "duh, that's why i picked you for the job. did you think it was because of the 20+ years of history we have with each other?" she joked causing [✶] to roll her eyes.

“but anyways, now that we’ve got all of that out of the way,” hana says with a sly grin, finishing off the last sip of her mimosa. the waiter arrives just in time to refill her glass, but hana barely acknowledges him, her focus entirely on [✶]. she leans in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “spill. about baekhyun, i mean. i want every single detail, especially the juicy ones. this is a first for us, after all.”

it’s true. [✶] has never had anything this juicy to share before—how could she, when there was only ever one person she’s been with? this whole experience is as new to [✶] as it is to hana.

hana’s eyes gleam with pride and excitement for her best friend. it was always hana who had the wild stories of one-night stands and steamy affairs—until kyungsoo came along and changed that, of course. but now, it’s [✶]’s turn, and hana couldn’t be happier to see her best friend finally stepping into the spotlight, embracing a side of life she had never explored before.

as [✶] captivates her best friend with the events of the previous night, her voice is a mix of excitement and raw emotion. she starts with the first kiss, describing it as a moment suspended in time—the spark that affirmed that there truly was something between her and baekhyun. she talks about their conversations, rich and engaging, where they uncovered just how much they had in common. their chemistry was evident in every shared laugh and glance.

the conversation takes a more heated turn as [✶] details what happened in baekhyun’s bedroom. her eyes flutter with a mix of excitement and lingering nervousness as she recounts the intensity of their encounter—an experience that surpassed anything she’d ever known.

her cheeks warm with the flush of several mimosas as she describes waking in the soft morning light, her heart pounding with a blend of fear and exhilaration. she had almost left without a word, but then she had seen the hurt in baekhyun’s eyes—a look that pierced through her and left her trembling. [✶] recounts the heartfelt things baekhyun had told her, his affirmations that he wanted her to stay. though his words were beautiful and convincing, she couldn’t shake the fear weighing on her heart. his promises seemed so simple, but she hardly knew him, and his reputation with women only added to her doubts.

“i know we agreed to take things at my pace and see where this goes,” [✶] gushes to hana, her voice tinged with frustration and uncertainty. “but i can’t help feeling scared. he said all the right things, hana,” she continues, her eyes searching for reassurance. “he made everything sound so… simple. but with what i know about his past with women, i’m just not sure if i should fully trust him yet.. or ever.”

hana listens intently, her gaze reflecting a blend of empathy and understanding. she can’t help but draw parallels between [✶]’s current turmoil and her own past experiences. she recognizes the familiar echoes of her own journey with kyungsoo in [✶]’s struggle. 

she reflects on the early days of her relationship with kyungsoo, remembering how he grappled with insecurities about her popularity and past. the relationship had been rocky at times, but they weathered the storm and built a foundation of trust that led them to where they are now—engaged and committed. 

hana finds herself empathizing with baekhyun’s situation as well, sensing a genuine depth in his feelings for [✶]. the shock of discovering that he might actually have developed real emotions for [✶] resonates with hana’s own experiences. she understands the challenge of overcoming past impressions and the difficulty of navigating new emotions in a relationship. the parallels between [✶]’s predicament and her own journey with kyungsoo feel strikingly similar.

hana reaches across the table, her smile soft and comforting. “i understand, [✶]. trusting someone when there’s so much uncertainty is never easy. but sometimes, the only way to truly get to know someone is to take a leap of faith. and as much as it surprises me to say this about byun baekhyun of all people, who knows? it might actually work out between you two. he seems genuine. besides, he wouldn’t risk playing with your feelings, especially knowing you’re my best friend. baekhyun might not always come across as a gentleman with women, but he does have his principles.”

“yeah,” [✶] replies, her voice tinged with exhaustion and a touch of resignation. “OR i could just ghost him and skip all this potential heartache. save myself from getting hurt.” she shrugs, trying to sound casual, but her eyes reveal the deeper unease she’s feeling. 

unknowingly, [✶]'s reaction mirrors the very hesitance she perceives in baekhyun. 

“that option seems like the safest bet. besides, i probably won’t see him again until the wedding, so there’s plenty of time and distance to figure things out.”

as [✶] continues to pour out her feelings, hana’s attention is drawn to the two men approaching their table. her heart skips a beat as she recognizes them, bracing for what could be an awkward encounter. she tries to catch [✶]’s attention, hoping to steer the conversation away, but her friend, lost in a haze of inebriated candor, remains blissfully unaware.

“i mean, who knows, maybe he’s probably already forgotten all about—”

a smooth, confident voice interrupts [✶]’s ramble. “fancy seeing you two here,” one of the men says, his tone dripping with amusement.

kyungsoo strides over to his fiancée with a warm, affectionate smile. leaning down, he presses a gentle kiss to hana’s lips. as he pulls back, his gaze shifts to [✶]. “you remember baekhyun from the party last night, right?”

[✶] turns to face the towering figure behind her, her eyes widening in surprise. her heart races as she meets baekhyun’s gaze, his expression a mixture of charm and intrigue. the blush rising on her cheeks and neck could easily be attributed to the alcohol, but deep down, she knows it’s more than that. it feels as though her breath has momentarily escaped her, caught in the magnetic pull of baekhyun’s presence.

“uhhh… yeah,” [✶] murmurs, her voice barely a whisper, eyes widening in a mix of surprise and embarrassment. “hi, baekhyun.”

[✶]’s hands tremble slightly as she tries to compose herself, her voice wavering. baekhyun, on the other hand, stands effortlessly, his relaxed posture and easy smile showing no sign of the tension [✶] is feeling.

“hi there, [✶]. long time no see.” baekhyun’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he casually greets her, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. his demeanor only heightens [✶]’s sense of unease, making her feel even more out of place.

‘why is he here? why does he look so fucking good? and why the hell is he acting like he wasn’t just eating me out like his very life depended on it just an hour ago?’ the questions race through [✶]’s mind, her anxiety evident in the way her heart pounds and her thoughts scatter.

the two men slide their chairs into place beside them, the scrape of wood against the floor sounding louder than usual in the tense atmosphere. hana’s gaze locks onto kyungsoo with a palpable blend of frustration and disbelief. her eyes, usually warm and inviting, are now sharp and pleading, as if trying to send a silent message through sheer willpower. her jaw is set tightly, the muscles working under her skin as she silently implores him to understand that this is absolutely not the moment for an interruption.

as expected, kyungsoo remained blissfully unaware of the charged atmosphere between the two women in front of him. he was the type of man who missed the subtle undercurrents of energy and instead focused on concrete, verbal exchanges.

“soo, you didn’t mention you were having breakfast with baekhyun this morning?” she asked, her voice laced with barely concealed irritation, teeth clenched as she spoke.

kyungsoo, oblivious to the simmering tension, responded nonchalantly, “oh, well, i checked your location and saw you were here. we just finished eating at the tap house not too far down the street. baekhyun parked nearby here, so i thought i’d walk him to his car since you’re here anyway.”

hana and [✶] exchanged frantic glances, their eyes wide with unspoken panic. they silently hoped that the two men would take the hint and leave, but their casual intrusion and self-assured demeanor suggested otherwise.

kyungsoo leaned back, a casual grin tugging at his lips. “and then we saw through the window that [✶] was with you,” he continued, eyes twinkling with mischief. “and since baekhyun here seemed so smitten with her at the party, he thought he’d swing by to say hi.”

baekhyun shot him an incredulous look, eyebrows shooting up as if he couldn’t believe his best friend just threw him under the bus. with a soft chuckle, he accepted that kyungsoo had no concept of subtlety. “yeah, something like that,” baekhyun laughed, settling more comfortably into his chair. 

his hand slipped beneath the table, settling on [✶]’s thigh with a comforting warmth. he gently caressed her skin, his thumb brushing up and down in soothing strokes, occasionally squeezing her knee like it was second nature. each subtle movement edged higher, his fingers grazing the sensitive spot between her legs—a place he had intimately explored in the early hours of the morning.

she bit down on her lip, desperately trying to focus on anything but the subtle movements of his hand beneath the table. there was no way she could look at him—seeing baekhyun again so soon had her heart pounding out of control. her skin already tingled with warmth, and she knew that if their eyes met while he touched her, she’d completely fall apart. she couldn’t let her best friends catch on just yet to how dangerously head over heels she was for him.

“oh, by the way,” kyungsoo interjected, like a light bulb suddenly twent on in his brain. he turned to hana, his face lighting up with a blend of excitement. the words that followed his mouth, left [✶] in a state of utter shock. “i had asked baekhyun to be my best man just now, and he agreed.”

“oh..did he?” hana asked, her voice laced with disbelief. “i thought you were planning to ask your brother to be your best man?”

kyungsoo shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “nah, it makes more sense for baekhyun to be my best man. he’s more reliable.” he gave a meaningful nod towards his best friend.

hana’s eyes wandered over to [✶], who was sitting across the table with a mix of surprise and discomfort etched on her face. “i just asked [✶] to be my maid of honor, too, and she said yes,” hana confessed, a hint of guilt in her voice.

kyungsoo’s eyes softened as he looked across the table at baekhyun and [✶]. “this is perfect! and you two hit it off so well last night, too. i’m so glad.” his gaze then shifted to his fiancée, who was glaring at him with an intensity that could burn through steel.

baekhyun glanced at the time, his expression tightening. “well, i should get going. i'm running late for a meeting with my manager.” he gave her knee a final, lingering squeeze before rising from his seat, the chair sliding back with a soft scrape.

before heading out, he turned to [✶] with a warm, his fingers grazed her shoulder, sending a shiver through her. “guess we’ll be seeing each other more often, [✶],” he said with a wink, a toothy smile curving up into the familiar crescent moons that made her heart flutter. if she’d been uncertain about her feelings before, the gentle brush of his hand and that teasing smile left her even more confused.

as baekhyun bid the couple and [✶] a warm goodbye, his departure was marked by a casual wave and a charming smile. the soft chime of the restaurant doorbell signaled his exit, the door closing behind him with a gentle swoosh. hana’s gaze followed him until he was out of sight, her fingers lightly tapping kyungsoo's arm in a gesture that was both exasperated and affectionate.

“what the hell, kyungsoo?! can’t you take a hint?” hana’s voice was a mix of frustration and disbelief, her eyes flashing with irritation.

kyungsoo winced, the sting of hana’s playful yet sharp slap making him flinch. he rubbed his arm with a wince, his brow furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean? aren’t you happy that our best friends are playing such important roles in our wedding?”

hana’s reaction was to scoff, shaking her head as though in disbelief at her fiancé’s lack of understanding. “i’ll explain when i get home later,” she said, her tone carrying a weight of finality.

[✶], who had been silent and seemingly lost in thought, finally spoke up. her voice was thin and quivering, as if she were struggling to find the right words. "i’m going to head into the office, actually.” she said, her throat feeling dry. "i have a lot to prepare for the charity event this upcoming weekend.” 

as she packed up her bag with a hurried efficiency, her movements were sharp and deliberate. she tossed a generous amount of cash onto the table, covering their bill with a decisive flick of her wrist. “i’ll text you when i get home, hana, yeah? i’ll see you both later, bye.”

before hana could even muster a response, [✶] was already making her way to the exit, her steps quick and determined. the restaurant's warm ambiance seemed to dim as she left, her sudden departure leaving a palpable void. hana and kyungsoo were left in stunned silence, their expressions a blend of concern and confusion as they watched [✶] storm out, her figure disappearing into the busy street.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

as [✶] slides into the driver’s seat of her car, she feels the cool leather against her skin. the soft hum of the engine, which she usually finds comforting, now seems to mock her inner turmoil. she's slumped into the seat, her back pressing against the headrest, her breath hitching as she silently berates herself. “why did this have to happen now?” she muttered to herself, her voice trembling with the intensity of her emotions. “why did baekhyun have to show up like that? and why did kyungsoo have to be so fucking oblivious?” she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration, trying to make sense of her jumbled thoughts and emotions.

a tap on her windshield startles her, and as she looks up, she catches the glint of a familiar face through the sunlight. it’s baekhyun, his presence as unexpected as it is electrifying.

“talking to yourself now?” his voice, smooth and teasing, floats through the air, just as the soft knock on the glass fades.

[✶] mentally shakes herself, a whirlwind of thoughts crashing together. 'get your shit together', she thinks while drawing in a deep breath. the whir of the window motor is the only sound that punctuates the brief silence as she rolls it down.

baekhyun’s face appears, framed by the soft light of day, and his smile is a blend of mischief and warmth. his eyes sparkle with a flirtatious glint, the kind that makes her pulse quicken and her thoughts scatter.

“hi again,” he murmurs, leaning into the window with a playful, teasing tone. his lower lip caught between his teeth, he meets her gaze, then lets his eyes trail down to her lips before returning to hers. the proximity of his body, his breath brushing against hers, sends a shiver racing down her spine.

caught off guard, she fights to regain control of her swirling thoughts. but as the sunlight bathes him in a golden hue, the moment pulls her in, stealing her hesitation.

“hi,” [✶] replies, her voice soft but brimming with warmth.

baekhyun’s gaze softens as he reaches out, the back of his fingers grazing her cheek with a feather-light touch. he gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch electric and tender. “wow. you’re even prettier in the daylight,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere. “didn’t know that was possible.”

the compliment wraps around [✶] like a cozy blanket, stoking a fire of confidence within her. she lifts her chin slightly, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “i could say the same about you, baekhyun,” she responds, her voice taking on a flirtatious edge as she lets her smile widen.

the playful exchange lingers in the air, a shared moment of magnetic attraction, as they stand on the precipice of something exhilarating and unknown.

"hmph.” his voice rumbles softly, eyes looking at her with longing as if he was looking at something he couldn't quite have.

“sorry,” he murmurs, his tone a mix of concern and something she couldn’t quite place. “i didn’t mean to interrupt your little monologue just now. i just saw you practically sprinting to your car as i was about to pull off and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

as he speaks, his hand moves with a gentle, deliberate slowness, fingers brushing against the side of her face. his touch is warm, his thumb grazing the delicate curve of her chin. the contact sends a spark through her, turning her into putty. his thumb lingers, tracing the line of her jaw, and she can’t help but lean into his touch, her breath hitching as the tension between them crackles like electricity in the air.

"thanks for checking on me,” [✶] sighs, her voice barely above a whisper as she fidgets with the hem of her shirt. her eyes dart nervously to the side, avoiding baekhyun’s intense gaze. “but i’m okay, really—i just wasn’t expecting to see you so soon after… you know—”

“oh—right!” baekhyun says with a snaps his fingers. his eyes light up with sudden realization, his expression shifting to one of playful mischief. “what was it you were saying earlier? something about how you thought the next time you'll see me is at their wedding? and that it would leave plenty of time and distance between us? is that right?”

[✶]’s heart drops, and her eyes widen in shock as she feels her stomach twist with embarrassment. she can barely believe her ears. her mouth goes dry, and her voice falters. “heh. oh, so you… you heard that?”

baekhyun nods, his hand resting dramatically over his chest as if wounded. “wow. i can’t believe the only girl who has me in a complete chokehold was planning to ghost me.” his tone is light, teasing, but there’s an underlying note of sincerity that makes [✶]’s cheeks flush. “welp, i’m glad i caught you, then. cause now i can tell you that you’re going to have to try harder to get rid of me.” he says lightly pinching her cheek.

she feels exposed, her earlier confidence crumbling under his playful yet piercing gaze. the memory of her conversation with hana floods back, and she mentally kicks herself for being so careless. but as much as she wants to sink into the floor and disappear, there’s something about the way baekhyun looks at her—like she’s the only person in the world that matters in that moment—that makes her chest tighten with something other than dread.

"welllllll," [✶] drags out the word, her voice laced with a playful drawl, "it was really nice chatting, baekhyun, but i really have to get going. i have a lot to plan for this annual charity event coming up this weekend, and—"

she’s immediately cut off as baekhyun’s expression shifts, realization dawning on him like a flash of lightning. the pieces fall into place with a sudden clarity that makes him silently curse himself for not figuring it out sooner. how could he have missed this?

"wait—" he interrupts, astonishment coloring his voice, "the humanitarian gala at the lee hotel this saturday? i just signed on to perform there. i'm actually meeting with my manager soon to go over the details."

[✶]’s eyes narrow, her thoughts racing back to the chaotic conversation she had with her assistant yesterday morning, just before kyungsoo and hana’s engagement party. the memory is a blur of stress and frantic planning, and she can almost feel the looming headache from the mess that’s undoubtedly waiting for her in her inbox. the thought of the endless list of tasks she needs to tackle—one so long it could rival a cvs receipt—makes her shoulders sag with exhaustion.

"hmm," she muses aloud, her tone thoughtful but distant, "i did tell my assistant that she needed to find us someone else since one of our other performers had to back out." she sighs, a sound heavy with resignation, wanting to wrap up this conversation so she can retreat to the relative sanctuary of her office and start putting out fires.

“wow, so i’m your second choice? you’re really breaking my heart today.” his tone once again dramatic.

[✶] rolled her eyes, barely able to suppress the grin threatening to break free. his dramatic antics, always over-the-top and laced with flair, were just so… him. the way he puffed out his chest and cast exaggerated glances her way was almost comical. a subtle smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, betraying her amusement even as she tried to keep a straight face.

'you weren't even a choice to begin with, baekhyun,' she thought to herself, the idea nearly making her chuckle aloud. but she quickly bit her tongue, knowing full well that voicing it would only encourage him more. she could already imagine his endless banter, the way he'd latch onto her words and turn them into an ongoing inside joke. and as much as she adored that mischievous glint in his eye, she wasn't quite ready to deal with the inevitable playful teasing that would follow.

so, instead, she simply shook her head, her smirk widening as she watched him. "well then, i guess i'll see you on saturday, baekhyun," she quips, her tone light yet laced with playful sarcasm. "can’t wait to see what all those fangirls of yours are drooling over. who knows? maybe i'll become one of them."

her words hang in the air, a teasing challenge that sends a shiver down baekhyun’s spine. he feels a rush of electricity as the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, the intensity of her gaze lingering even as she reaches for the car window.

with a slow, deliberate motion, the window closes, creating a tangible barrier between them. but instead of diminishing the tension, the thin sheet of glass only amplifies it, making the charged atmosphere between them almost palpable. baekhyun watches as her car pulls away, his heart beating just a little faster, hands beginning to sweat, knowing that saturday’s performance will be different with her eyes on him.

s&v | mlist | prev | ★ ch.2 rendezvous ★ | next

[aayakashii]

hii love ur stuff a lot!! i especially enjoyed the sh ones (as weird as that sounds, it's just nice to be cared for something <3) could i request the same concept but with tohma and sho? thank youu

Thank you for enjoying what I write!! It truly means the world to me <3 and it's not weird at all, I understand how it feels good to have a character you like comfort you in some way 🫂 also, I might have written a bit too much this time oops (´ᵕ `ก).｡

Here are the other drabbles of the same "series": part 1, part 2

Warning: sh mentioned and/or implied

While you took a big bite of your sandwich, humming in delight and chewing happily, Sho was burning holes onto your arms as he washed the dishes at his truck.

You tried to ignore his blatant staring, already used to the questioning gaze of those around you whenever you showed the skin of your arms, but the intensity of his expression compelled you to say something before he actually managed to shoot laser beams from his eyes.

"Okay, thanks for the food" you bowed slightly as you crumpled the used napkin "Now go on. Shoot your questions."

Hearing your words, Sho blinked, finally looking up at your face.

"Huh?"

"You've been staring" you pointed at the visible scars "You can ask me stuff, I won't bite."

He scoffed.

"Me? I wasn't staring. I don't care." Sho looked down and furiously scrubbed the plate on his hand.

"You were almost burning a hole on my arm, Sho. Also, you've been scrubbing the same plate since I came here today."

He winced, embarrassed by his own distraction, and put the plate inside the sink.

Sho rested his palms on the counter, making his shoulders reach his ears, his head hanging low as he sighed.

"Hey, I don't mind, you know? Like, I don't mind talking about them. Especially with someone I trust." you said gently.

At that, he looked at you, searching your eyes for something you couldnt quite understand. After a few seconds, he straightened his posture and cleared his throat.

"So... can you tell me? Why did you... why did you do this, senpai?"

His voice sounded so anguished and you couldn't help but feel a pang in your heart. You reached out your hands to hold his, and he hesitantly took them, twisting your arms a little so the scars could face him.

"I was in a very dark place some time ago." You observed as he stared at the marks on your arms, his hold on you tight and firm "It felt like everything was spiraling out of my control and I had to keep something under my restraints."

You chuckled.

"If you think about it, I'm actually in the same type of situation again, in a whole other scale."

Sho's grip on your arms tightened and he lifted his head quickly. His eyes looked sorrowful at your remark, yet he couldn't find the words to protest against the truth.

"But... you can't– I mean, you don't have to–"

"Don't worry" you interrupted, trying to calm him down "Despite the circumstances I'm in a better mindspace now. Also, loneliness played a big part in it. I'm not alone now, right?" you lifted your eyebrows, a playful smile tugging on your lips.

He shook his head, his expression still solemn.

"Yeah, you're not alone, no. Not if I'm here."

You smiled, a warmth spreading in your chest at how serious and genuine he looked as he said that.

"But." Sho breathed deeply before continuing "But if you ever need to cry for help, for any reason at all, you have to promise to come to me before you do anything rash, okay?"

"Okay." You nodded.

"No, that's not enough, senpai. You gotta promise me. Here." he lifted his little finger and pointed it towards you. His brows were knitted and his lips pursed into a thin line despite the way the tips of his ears burned red. "Promise me."

You snorted and intertwined your own little finger with his.

"I promise."

You have itched you arms through the sleeves of your blazer for the nth time that afternoon, Tohma noticed.

Honestly, it was getting a little bit on his nerves. He had taken time off of his schedule to help you study Anomalous Biology, something you seemed to struggle with, due to how haphazardly you had been thrusted into the unbelievable world of ghouls and anomalies. And he understood your plight, he truly did.

But was his teaching so boring that the itch on your arms shattered your focus that easily?

"My apologies if I make you uncomfortable, but... wouldn't you like to take care of what has been bothering you first, before we continue our studies?" he eventually said, closing the textbook he was using to teach you.

You looked surprised and a bit embarrassed, which was unexpected to him. Did you not notice? Was this a tic?

"I'm sorry, Tohma, I did it without noticing, truly. I have a itching cream on my backpack, I can put it on now if it won't make you uncomfortable."

"Not at all. Why would it make me uncomfortable?" he quirked up an eyebrow.

"Well... because, it's... um... I guess I should just let you see it."

You bashfully took off your blazer after grabbing the cream, and laid your arms on the table. On your skin, several small scars littered the underside of your forearm, which caught Tohma's eyes almost immediately.

"Oh." he mouthed, and you smiled awkwardly.

"I've had them for a while, but every now and then they itch. Usually when I'm having allergy symptoms and since we're on an old library..." you trailed off.

Tohma stayed silent for a while as he watched you apply the cream on your arms.

"My apologies." he suddenly muttered and you glanced at him.

"What for?"

"It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable with my remark."

"Oh" you waved your hand, dismissively "Don't worry about that. It's good you said, otherwise I might have hurt myself. I don't really mind showing them. They're already a part of me, so there's no benefit in feeling embarrassed by them, right? Plus, it's been a long time ago and... sorry, I'm rambling."

Tohma smiled and grabbed one of your hands, turning it to bring its back to his lips.

"You are a very fascinating person." he said, placing a chaste kiss on your skin "Maybe a bit reckless, but incredibly brave."

Your cheeks burned at his comment and his kiss, and you laughed nervously.

"No... not at all. I'd say I'm facing something a lot more difficult now and I'm honestly very terrified."

"But you're still moving on. Bravery is to keep going despite your fears. You're doing this now and you did this every single time when you went through these" he said pointing at the marks on your body.

You lowered your head, the redness spreading to your neck as he stared at you so intensely.

"I just hope you'll find it in you to rely on us whenever you need, now that you have all ghouls wrapped around your finger."

You raised a brow, finally facing him, a look of skepticism on your face.

"I definitely don't have all ghouls wrapped around my finger, Tohma"

"Oh no? Well, then maybe it's just me." he said it nonchalantly and opened the book in front of him again.

Full masterlist

[babysbreath]

found & lost

➶ oikawa tooru x gn!reader

➶ implied nsfw, suggestive

➶ fluff, angst

“Hi there.”

You set your glass down on the table and turn to greet this person. Shit. You almost forgot about him also being a guest.

“Ah, hello Oikawa.”

He chuckles, “Since when do you call me Oikawa?”

If only you could have gone through the whole wedding ceremony without bumping into him. 

“Since I became an ex? So since the second year of college.”

Your table is astonishingly empty and you suspect that your missing friends are responsible for the conga line that’s started on the dance floor. 

“Wow, look at who’s conveniently forgetting years of young love before that.” He then gestures to the empty velvet-lined seat beside you. “May I?”

Doing a quick check of your surroundings, you whisper, “Are you sure? We don’t want to end up on the highschool gossip page.” 

There’s no such thing to worry about. Oikawa is turning 29 next year. So are you. 

Still, it’s only half a joke because his current dating life is plastered on ‘celebrity news’ websites instead. 

He smiles, teeth and all. It’s so easy to fall back into old ways.

Somewhere in between speeches from drunk classmates and sobbing cousins, Oikawa’s hand finds itself on your knee. 

“Ever wondered why champagne bubbles rise in that straight line?” you ask, tracing the neat trajectory along the glass with your finger .

He tilts his head like it would make more sense at a 45 degree angle. “This mystery, this elusive phenomenon keeps me up at night. Please go on.”

You laugh at his obvious teasing tone. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re making fun of me.”

“You know I could listen to you talk forever.” 

The second he says it, you see it on his face. It flickers in his eyes, flecks of doubt among shards of guilt.  

You stretch your legs out and the satin of your dress allows his hand to slip away. 

He knows better than to suggest a future when you’ve both decided to leave each other in the past. The old you would’ve snapped at him for it.

“Want another drink?”

He nods.

His friends find their way to your table, bringing along rambunctious laughter followed by a polite murmuring of apologies. A junior, who you barely recognize, passes his phone number to your sister on a crumpled up napkin and Oikawa comments about the ‘audacity of these youngsters’. 

You shrug. “It’s old fashioned but cute.” Your friends hum in agreement.

A former teammate reminds Oikawa that he himself tried a similar move on an actress last year and Oikawa vehemently denies it, with his hand on his heart and eyes on you. The warmth from your stomach rises to your cheeks, mirroring the pattern of the bubbling champagne.

Another hour goes by. The line for dessert seems infinitely long so you do everyone a favour by not joining and instead, sneaking away from the main hall. 

“What are we doing?”

“Talking.” A beat. “We can just talk, can’t we?”

One of the little flower girls bumps into Oikawa, ice cream smeared all across her pretty dress, and her mother apologises hurriedly in her attempt to grab her. Oikawa puffs his cheeks out at the child and she returns the silly expression while being carried away. 

The elevator doors open, revealing warm lights and corporate jazz. 

Toeing the maroon carpet flooring, you finally ask, “What have you been up to, Tooru?” 

“Well, I’m not seeing anyone.” 

Of course, the love was hidden in the question. Of course, he easily peels away the layers of insecurity to reveal it .

You can’t help but notice that Oikawa’s hotel room is neat. It’s almost untouched with the exception of a carefully torn teabag sachet near the armchair. 

Now, his tailored blazer lays discarded on that very chair as your fingers work his shirt buttons. 

His lips meet yours, soft and pliant, until it breeds a sense of urgency. Pulling away, you murmur, “I missed you.” 

He shudders against your body, like a fever that won’t die down.

There’s an exchange of kisses, traversing familiar territories of skin, until you’re lying bare under his frame. You’re wrapped around him, meeting him halfway with each thrust.

“I’m getting old,” he reminds you, or rather himself, as he pauses to rub his lower back. 

“Tooru, you’re still the same.”

He’s too scared to ask what you mean by that. 

He moves again before he can let himself go down that road. 

In this world of winding lanes, is it not reasonable to find your way to a recognizable one when you’re lost? 

Tomorrow, on the train back home, he’ll repeat that to himself. As for now, he’ll repeat your name with a stutter that runs from his mouth, down to the motion of his hips.

The sound of your erratic breathing perforates the silence. He’s wordlessly drawing circles on your back with a nail trimmed far too short, red blooming into pain beneath the bed.

He sits up and says, in a whisper, “I wish you would’ve said something. Or fought for us to-”

“To?”

“For us to- I don’t know. To stay together till we figured things out?” 

“Why? You think it could’ve worked out?” It’s a rhetorical question, at this point.

You hear his head hit the pillow so you turn to face him. 

He meets your gaze. “Probably not. You would’ve ended up hating me.”

“Yeah, and you wouldn’t have even put in the effort to hate me back.” 

This is the end of the road. There is no way back.

A humourless laugh escapes his lips. “And you would’ve hated me for that too.”