#please ignore the bottom half of him. it's two thirty in the morning and i can't draw

[lolottes-pad]

cell but he's a public bus driver trying to live a normal life after the whole cell games fiasco and he's having just the most MISERABLE time

very big fan of this proposition. imagine hopping on the bus to see your mom a town over or something and you see the guy who ate every city and tried to wipe out the planet nearly a decade ago. how did he get a license? how did he obtain citizenship? where does he live? none of this matters because he has like five different stops to get to and you need to sit the fuck down let him back on the grind.

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Girl Next Door

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Simon is a simple man who doesn't ask for much. Just a bit of peace to come home to. When suddenly you pop in to interrupt his tranquility. Maybe he doesn't completely hate it...

A/N: This is fluff if you squint. Slow burn?? This will probably just be part one if y'all dig the concept. Let me know what you think.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Simon loves sitting on his balcony in the evening. He loved it before his new neighbor moved in. He wasn't the type to be overly concerned about the actions of other tenants. If someone was too loud, he'd just turn up the television. Banging from upstairs, he'd play some music. Smoking pot outside, that's fine he smokes cigarettes. And he was never one to meddle in others personal lives. He sought sanctuary in his alone time. 

While unlocking his front door one day he couldn't ignore the soft grunting coming from down the hallway behind him. He turns to see someone coming out of the stairwell with a box so big he can only make out a pair of hands on the sides and little legs coming out the bottom. He watched as you waddled all the way to the door right next to his own. You drop the box with a huff, leaning forward on the cardboard to catch your breath. 

"Hi neighbor," you greet between pants. You're wearing some baggy clothes and a beat up baseball cap, wide eyes staring up at him from under its brim. Just a hint of sweat speckling your temples. "Sorry for the noise, I promise I'm not a normally noisy person." you smile. 

"Hope not," he grunts and enters his own residence. Closing the door firmly without a second look. 

𝜗𝜚

The next day while he's drinking his morning coffee and going through his emails he is disturbed by a politely quiet knock on the door. When he looks through the peephole he sees you again. This time with your hair down, wearing a sundress. Looking a lot more put together. You're holding a tray in your hands. He opens the door but does not release the door chain, leaving only a crack in the door to reveal himself.

"Can I help you," he grumbles in a flat tone.

"Hey neighbor!" You don't let the small allowance of space dampen your spirit or at least you don't show it. "I made some cookies. I'd like to think it's good luck to christen a new place by making something sweet in it. The recipe ended up making way more than I planned for so I figured it would be the neighborly thing to do to offer you some." You give your brightest smile hoping to win him over. 

"I don't like sweets," he states.

"Oh, really? I thought everyone liked sweets..." Your shoulders slump the smallest bit as you pause for a moment in thought. "Well, I've got a baked ziti in the oven. It should be ready in about thirty minutes. I could pop by and drop off some when it's done, if you'd like?"

"Yeah, no thanks." He doesn't allow you to respond when he closes the door in your face. Simon is a distrustful man by nature and he won't let a sweet girl with a tray of goodies change that. They did smell really good though. He can't help himself when he looks through his peephole to watch you leave. You let out a defeated sigh and shuffle back to your apartment next door. 

𝜗𝜚

A few days later he runs into you again. He steps into the elevator, presses the button for the lobby, when he hears a familiar voice calling. 

"Wait, hold the elevator please!" You shout down the hallway. You jog towards the lift, trying to get your purse on your shoulder with one hand while balancing your phone, keys, and a travel mug in the other. Your jacket is only half on and the straps on your shoes are undone. Simon groans under his breath but, out of a second of sympathy, he holds his arm out to block the doors from closing. 

"Thank you," you say breathlessly and duck underneath his outstretched arm. "I'm a running little behind this morning." 

"No problem." His eyes remain forward, watching the doors slide shut as the two of you start descending. You finish putting on your jacket and run your fingers to settle your frazzled hair. 

"Can you hold this for a second?" 

"Uh.." He doesn't get a chance to answer when you're thrusting your warm cup into his hands. He watches as you shove your phone and keys into your purse then bend down to finish buckling the straps on your shoes. Unbothered when your skirt rides up your leg exposing your upper thigh. 

You stand back up, straightening your blouse. "Thanks again" You take the cup back allowing him to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Hey, I'm sorry if I came off as strong the other day."

"It's fine"

"I'm not the best with first impressions." He doesn't respond so you continue. "I didn't mean to intrude either. I'm sure you're a very busy man. Me too, I'm pretty busy with work and stuff. I write for the paper. Well, I am writing the cooking column right now but I'm hoping to get bumped up soon. Maybe something like crime would be cool. What about you? What do you do for work?"

The elevator's ding signals you've arrived at the lobby. As the doors open Simon turns to his head slowly to look at you and nods towards the open doors. 

"Ladies first" 

He wasn't fooled by your clumsy persona, he could feel an ulterior motive in you. He watched as you sauntered off. You are much more professional now, as you pull out a pair of sunglasses and slide them on. He watched the way your hips swayed in your tight skirt. You looked over your shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. Simon waits until you're pushing open the glass paneled double doors before he heads out of the lift himself. 

As you make it onto the city sidewalk, a man runs right into you, causing your coffee to spill down the front of your shirt. You gasp as the hot liquid splashes onto your freshly ironed blouse and down your chest. The man hardly pauses before redirecting around you looking irritated. You spin back around with a huff and shove back into the lobby, pacing to the elevator. 

"Hold the door, please" you groan, marching back while Simon blocks the doors again, containing his laugh into a tight smirk.

𝜗𝜚

Whenever you caught a glimpse of Simon you were quick to skip over and start a conversation. Which was quite a bit. It seemed he was always running into you. The elevator, the apartment gym, while taking out trash, in the parking garage, as he unlocks his door. Most of the conversation being one sided. He was starting to learn more about your life, all the information against his will, of course. 

You were a recipe columnist, also a great cook. You liked dogs but really wanted a cat. You were a single child. You moved here to get a fresh start after a bad relationship. You don't have many friends, that one is pretty obvious.

Then one night, while Simon is trying to enjoy a smoke outside on his balcony he's disturbed by loud shouting in your apartment. Not in your usual bubbly tone, no you sounded angry. He couldn't understand the words you were saying through the glass of your patio door. Then a deep voice is shouting back at you. After a few minutes of listening to the back and forth, your front door slams and then there is stillness. The moment is interrupted when you storm onto your own balcony, slamming the glass door shut behind you.

You brace yourself on the railing edge. He watches your shoulders heave with a few heavy breaths then start to shutter. Your head falls weakly into your hands and you begin to cry. Cry hard at that, sobbing that shakes your whole body. You cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet but your pathetic whimpers still slip though. 

For a moment Simon actually feels bad for you. In fact he feels angry, angry at whoever could have made you feel that way. Sure, you could be annoying at times. Okay annoying all the time but he has never heard you say a harsh word about anyone before. He can't fathom what you could have possibly done to deserve such harshness. You are a sweet girl. He considers saying something to comfort you in some way but after another minute of watching you cry meekly into your hands he thinks maybe not. It would be better to let you be alone. His own patio door is still open, perhaps and can slip back inside with you noticing...

Then he drops his lighter. 

Your head turns sharply to the direction of the clattering plastic against the floor. You lock your watery eyes with Simon and he feels an unexpected pang in his heart. You swiftly wipe your eyes and brush your ruffled hair in place the best you can. Even in the dim lighting illuminating from the city below he can still see how flushed your cheeks have become. 

You draw in a shaky inhale before speaking. "How long have you been out here?"

"Not long," He sees your eyes flick down to the half smoked cigarette between his fingers, giving away his lie. "You want one?" He asks, unsure how to comfort you. 

"I don't smoke," then a pause. "Can I just have a bit of yours?" Your voice is so feeble it's almost a whisper. As you look at him with big round eyes and pouty lips, he can't deny your request. 

He passes the half burnt cigarette over the small stone wall separating your balconies. You're shaky fingers brush against his, careful not to drop it. You bring it to your lips to pull a slow drag. Your eyes flutter shut before you release the puff of smoke, carefully not to blow it in his direction. Simon watches the cloud drift out of your mouth, disappearing into the chilled night air. You lean on the wall connecting your balcony to Simon's. You stare down at the glowing red ember emitting a thin plume of smoke. 

"You alright?" It's him this time who breaks the silence.

"Yeah," you mumble, not lifting your gaze. 

"You sure?"

"No," you release a tired sigh. 

He waits a beat before speaking. "You told me you weren't gonna be a noisy neighbor."

A smile begins to creep onto your face. "I'm sorry, I broke my promise. How can I make it up to you?" When you look at him now, he sees a shimmer return back to your eyes. 

You pass the cigarette back over to him. It's basically down to the filter when he brings it to his own lips and takes a final drag, blowing the smoke between the two of you. It disperses around your features while you watch him. He stubs it out in an ashtray on his little patio table. The cool night dries his chapped mouth. He licks his lips and tastes an unfamiliar cherry flavoring. He looks down at the butt in his ashtray and observes the faintest red ring of lipgloss on the smushed filter. 

"You know, I could go for some baked ziti."

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Part II

[lux-scriptum]

Elliot's Vampire Au, Part Two

Part One | Next

Owen’s apartment was a good thirty minute walk from where Elliot had found himself. He supposed Owen could have come and picked him up, but Elliot wanted the exercise to shake off the jitters.

Unfortunately it didn’t do much in the end. Elliot felt more wound up than before by the time he made it to the shop below Owen’s home. The first thing Elliot did when he ducked inside Owen’s apartment was to shuck off the hoodie he’d stolen and throw it away. Owen stared as Elliot immediately dragged it back out and retrieved the lavender blouse. He clenched his fingers around it and tried to pretend he hadn’t just noticed his nails still had blood under them.

“Elliot.” Owen began. His tone was so… gentle. Elliot ignored it, and hurried to the kitchen. He hip checked the island in his rush to the sink. Did vampires bruise? That was definitely going to if they did. “Elliot what’s going on?”

“I fucked up.” Elliot was babbling. He couldn’t stop the words if he wanted to. “I thought he was, I dunno, cute? You know how I am. I thought a quick tumble would be fine.” He turned on the cold water and started to scrub at the stains. “He fucking bit me.” The shirt hit the sink with a wet slap as Elliot whirled. “He bit me? And then- and then we- he- we fed. Owen I don’t know what to do.” Owen was a witch, he would know. Both what Elliot meant, and how to fix this. Right?

But Owen was staring again. Not at Elliot, but at the ruined shirt in the sink. “What happened, exactly?” He asked slowly. It was clear he was still mid morning routine; his hair hadn’t made it up into its customary half bun yet.

“A vampire bit me.” Elliot swallowed. He watched Owen’s attention flick to his neck. “Not. Not there. I don’t know what to do. You’re a witch. You can help me. Right?”

“Elliot, you fed,” Owen began. He paused, stepped close with palm outstretched. “There’s no undoing it now.”

Despite himself, tears welled up. “I didn’t mean to,” he said. His voice cracked. He’d never felt so particularly pathetic before. “I was just. So hungry.” As if that excused the body he’d left behind on some stranger’s couch.

At least Owen folded him into a hug. He smelled like the coffee he’d abandoned on the counter, and the herbs he’d been mixing at his worktable near the front door. It would have been more comforting if Elliot hadn’t become hyper aware of the sound of Owen’s heartbeat.

Elliot pulled back as he wiped his face. “Can you at least help with my shirt?”

Owen laughed. The sound was cut short guiltily. “Yeah. Yeah, of course I can do that. Until then, you’ve left enough clothes here. They’re in my closet, left side, if you want to change.” He traced Elliot’s bottom lip with his thumb. The familiar motion soothed Elliot more than anything else had.

Elliot kissed Owen’s cheek. He didn’t have to do anything to help Elliot. And yet. Here he was, taking care of Elliot. Like he always had. Even that first night he’d met Elliot, he’d taken care of him. It was half autopilot, then, to head for Owen’s bedroom.

He knew exactly where the clothes Owen referred to were. His collection was, admittedly, larger than he remembered. He hadn’t thought he’d spent so much time here. He chose to shed the jeans in favor of a broom skirt and one of Owen’s hoodies. Owen tie dyed them himself. The one Elliot picked out had several of Elliot’s favorite shades of blue artfully splotched across a wisteria base. It was still soft to the touch, and smelled of his friend.

By the time Elliot retreated back to the bed (silk sheets and pillowcases like Elliot had suggested, he was pleased to note), Owen had circled back and made sure to check the curtains were closed properly against the rising sun. Owen gave a small smile, and held his arms open a little. Elliot dove into them and almost immediately regretted it. The bite of hunger had sharpened.

“I’ve always wondered if you could hear a vampire’s stomach growl,” Owen mused. He led Elliot to the bed and sat him down. It was second nature to watch him crouch so that he was looking up at Elliot. “Hey. We’ll figure it all out. I’ve got some books around here somewhere.” His thumb tapped against Elliot’s wrist comfortingly. “If not me, then Hector and his dad.”

“I’m still hungry,” Elliot mumbled. “What if I eat someone else?” What if I try to eat you?

“You’re still alive.” Owen’s tappings had matched Elliot’s heartbeat. “You can eat regular food. We’re going to figure out the rest. So how about I make some breakfast? And make some calls. You stay away from the sun. Maybe take a nap, okay?” He folded Elliot’s blouse, clean and dry, into Elliot’s hands. “Something tells me you didn’t get much rest last night. This morning? Ah, whatever.”

Elliot would have offered to cook, but he didn’t want to mess up the gesture Owen was making. So he nodded, and then sighed. “Thanks, Owen. Sorry again, for waking you.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. That’s why you have my phone number.” Owen tugged on one of Elliot’s midnight curls, a small grin peeking through. “Your fancy shmancy hair stuff is still in my bathroom. Judging by how yours is still damp, and your general aura, I’m assuming a real shower would feel nice.”

Elliot grimaced. “All he had was five in one. What is five in one? I get three in one shampoo, at least, even if I don’t approve-” He broke off as Owen started to chuckle. “What. You know my feelings on-”

“I do,” Owen promised. “I rearranged the bathroom last week, but your little emergency kit should still be under the sink. It can wait until after breakfast if you’d prefer to join me. Or you can freshen up properly,” and here he winked, “while I get us some omelets going.” Elliot debated it. In the end he decided it would be a good exercise in self control. He had never been good at sharing the kitchen. He must have shown something on his face, because Owen pressed a kiss to his forehead and stood. Elliot took the proffered hand.

“Omelets?” Elliot asked.

“Nuh uh, No meddling.” Owen tucked him close as the wound through the living room to the kitchen. “This is my treat.”

“I know,” Elliot promised. He perched on a chair demurely. “I can behave.”

“Sure,” Owen snorted. He set his coffee maker to brew a fresh batch. “Hector should be up soon.”

“Oh, he’s here?” Elliot perked up. Owen’s roommate was half shifter himself. Despite Hector having a feline form, Elliot had found the shifter-witch to be delightful company.

“He does live here,” Owen pointed out dryly. He fished ingredients out of the fridge, and then paused. “He’s going home Monday though, so. Fair enough I suppose.”

Elliot hummed. He rested his chin in his hand as he pulled his phone out to check it.

“Hey. No vamp forums.” Owen pointed his skillet in Elliot’s direction. “You’ll just work yourself up. At least wait until after breakfast.”

“I wasn’t!” Elliot closed the search engine guiltily. “Just feels weird not helping.”

Owen flicked him an amused look. “If I give you some veggies to chop will you promise that’s all you’ll do?”

Elliot was on his feet in an instant. “Mmmhmmm.” He flashed a winning smile. “I can be trusted!”

Owen shook his head. “Sure you can.”

~~

@mecharose @incandescent-creativity @cwritesfiction @fragmentedink

as always ask to be tagged

[talldarkandroguesome]

15th of Second Seed, Morndas

As I came down this morning, I could hear arguing. The voices of Tharn and Khamira were particularly clear. A third voice I did not recognize tried to keep the peace betwixt the other two. Tharn using every opportunity he could as a dig against Khamira as being young or inexperienced. I was half tempted to turn around and go back upstairs.

As soon as I rounded the bottom of the steps, I heard Tharn commenting that someone who could help had arrived.

At least I was useful again. The arse.

He met me and brought me into the room where he and the others were meeting. I could not help but cast curious glances to the very tall, pale golden Khajiit who stood along the back wall by a bookshelf. He looked exhausted, likely by the arguments and he had his arms crossed. I took in the armor he wore of golden plate with teal accents and elaborate patterns in the metal. His beard was banded in four places below the chin. He struck a regal figure, even as the signs of age pulled at the corners of his eyes and lips.

Tharn began to explain that he thought I would never show, which I promptly reminded him was every bit to do with the way he had portaled Khamira and I off and then sent a messenger to fetch me, and yes, I was very well, only attacked by one bandit intent on murdering me in the night.

He raised an eyebrow and ignored my words. Of course. They were more for Nettle's benefit anyhow.

Tharn said that he was talking with the Speaker of the Mane, because he headed the Khajiiti Defense Force and they were already stretched thin dealing with Tharn's sister, they were in no way prepared for a rage of dragons, a term I had not known until he explained it.

Of course, he would not simply ask me to come and support with the defense at the command post, oh no, I was his useful little tool, after all. No, he wanted me to go and check on some power surges he had need detected when trying to track the dragons. Apparently they were strangely reminiscent of Sir Cadwell. That seemed an oddly specific thing to say, but I am hardly a mage, so I simply accepted the explanation. He told me that if it happened to be Sir Cadwelll, that I should try and secure his help.

Personally I was not sure that we wanted the poor soul shriven's help. For all his power, he has become far too acclimated to life in Coldharbour and seems as though he has been touched by Sheogorath in the manner of his thoughts. But my job was not to give opinions, Tharn would dismiss them anyhow, why waste the breath, my job was just to be his fetching errand boy.

While Tharn went to mark the locations on a map for me, I went and greeted Khamira. She was begrudgingly happy to see me. She was glad that I was there to help clean up the mess, though she blamed me in part for the dragons' release. I spoke earnestly with her about the plans and how she had been, recognizing the way she held back. So Tharn's implication that she was as much a spy for the Speaker of the Mane as his envoy seemed to be true. I asked her to introduce me to the Speaker, that I might make a proper introduction.

She seemed pleased by my level of formality and how serious I took his position, something Tharn was unlike to have done. He thinks himself too important for such things, no doubt.

I gave a formal greeting in Ta'agra, to the best of my ability. The Speaker of the Mane was quite impressed and Khamira also seemed surprised. I apologized for how little I spoke and for my pronunciation being off. I joked about the teasing my husband gave me when I spoke his mother tongue. That got the Speaker curious and we spoke of personal matters briefly.

Eventually we moved to matters more serious, just in time for Tharn to come back and throw a grumpy look our way. I could not get over the velvet-smooth way that the Speak spoke. No wonder the Mane chose him as his voice. It was a melody each time he opened his mouth. I could have listened to him reciting the thirty six lessons and would have been hanging off every word.

The Speaker was very candid about the troubles they had, the past six years fighting to regain Rimmen from Tharn's sister. That it was a slow and difficult process made all the worse by the appearance of dragons. He seemed hopeful that Tharn's experience on the Imperial Council would be useful to the effort to free Elsweyr of the ire of the dragons released. I pledged to serve in a role of support. He thanked me and said that he hoped that what I found in my search would prove useful to us.

Tharn presented me with the map and told me to make haste and to set off at once. The locations were all west and south-west of Riverhold, each about a half day's ride from the inn. Of course, securing a mount proved impossible, the stable was empty, save for steads who were being looked after by those traveling through the town.

And so with Nettle and my guards in tow, we head out on foot, across the river, to find whatever strange things Tharn has identified.

The Three preserve us.

[hansolmates]

remote learning (m)

summary; working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two. pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, slightly insecure mc, this is pure FILTH—use of a remote controlled vibrator, do not and i repeat DO NOT try foreplay during a zoom call in the event u get fired im not responsible, phone sex, jungkook’s a meanie in control, cum eating, doggy, and topping it off with some sweet missionary bc jk has purty eyes, unprotected (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 5.7k a/n; this fic manifested bc of work. and i!! am!! frustrated!! i think we all need a lil jk relief so here it goes! as always ty to @chillingtae​ / @eerieedits​ for this FANTASTIC fic banner, please go check vivi out if u have taste okok part 2: distance learning drabbles; 01

if u like this fic pls consider giving it a like and a share💕💕💕💕

“Tomorrow morning, same time at 9AM. Remember to have your reports alphabetized and itemized,” your supervisor says, but the only thing you can focus on is the abnormal amount of bonsai plants in his living room. 

“Alright now it’s time for the union to talk COVID protocol,” you frown when Mr. Kim moves ownership of the Zoom call to your union rep, who pulls up a Powerpoint. You feel your eyes burn at the sight: an itinerary containing over thirty-eight slides. 

“For fuck’s sake—” 

You so desperately want to turn off the camera and flop in your bed. Since working remotely you haven’t been operating in the most ideal of workspaces. You live in a one-room apartment with a communal kitchen downstairs, so you really only have four square meters to stretch your limbs around between breaks. You’ve pushed your bed aside and shoved an office chair between the bed and the wall, leaving you to squirm between ten centimeters of space. You have no desk because well, the little rectangle space is prioritized for your portable stove and meals. 

The meeting drones on for another hour, until your brain melts to liquid and your limbs feel like Jell-O. Furthering your anxiety as they talk about protocol that never ends up happening, delays that continue to pile up, and the anger that’s been bubbling between the higher ups and little goldfish employees like you. 

When you finally shut off the camera and fling your laptop under the bed, you still feel unsettled. Probably because your work life and home life have merged together, and it’s hard for you to separate work and pleasure. 

Speaking of pleasure. 

Your hand blindly reaches under your bed, looking for the pretty pink oval you purchased last week. Cleaned and ready to use, the little remote-controlled vibrator sits plainly in your palm. 

Needless to stay you’ve been in a bit of a dry spot these past few months. With a fear to go out and meet someone new, you’ve been left with yourself and your fantasies. That’s fine, but lately your old vibrator isn’t cutting it. It’s unfortunate, you think you’re messing up your libido by buying toy after toy, but you’re horny and lonely. 

Linking your phone’s app to the remote, you ignore the messages that have been beeping your feed since early morning. 

[11:21] Jeon: let’s do lunch! 

[11:23] Jeon: hehe i feel like i belong in mean girls. Do lunch💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️

[2:20] Jeon: u loozer. Come eat dinner with us upstairs @6

[2:24] Jeon: dropping off a snack for u 

Another element of feeling horny and lonely? Jeon Jungkook. 

You two shouldn’t have even met each other. You live off crumbs on the first floor while he and his roommates are livin’ it up on top in the penthouse. One day a few months ago he crashed into you while working out, having run up and down the whole flight of stairs at least three times before deciding to collapse on you between the second and first floor. 

Despite the black mask that hugged his sharp jawline, you had felt nothing but attractiveness ooze off of him. Under his hoodie was nothing but curved muscle. He smelled so soft and sweet despite the fact that he was damp with sweat. 

The rest is history. After that day he seemed to show up everywhere, jogging more prominently on your floor and doing exercises at your level’s gym. He says he likes you, likes your company. He’s wormed his way intermittently, whether he’s seeing you struggle with an armful of groceries or when he hears you screaming over an Among Us match (according to Jungkook, the walls are thinner on the bottom floors.) 

The idea of Jungkook doting on you doubly frustrates you. He seemingly appears as the perfect man, unaffected by the stresses of the world. Jungkook’s job lets him work from home anyway, and he definitely had enough room in the penthouse for his own office. He works out, probably has a girlfriend and enough friends for you to gradually phase out of this weird neighbor interest. 

So you ignore his seemingly harmless messages, focusing on getting the settings right on the vibrator. You feel your pussy jolt a little in excitement, watching the silver and pearl pink oval shake in your grasp. You smile a bit to yourself, immediately finding your iPad for your favorite videos and some pillows to support your back. 

Half an hour later however, that excitement soon goes sour. 

“Fuck,” you bite your lip, frustrated tears streaming down your face, “fuck fuck fuck!” 

This isn’t a set of explicatives out of pleasure, unfortunately. 

No matter what you do, you won’t cum. You can’t cum. Barely wet, hardly a drop glossing your folds. You don’t even want to bother getting out the lube at this point because you are so disappointed. 

The vibrator is going at the highest setting, one that your neighbors can probably hear if they were home at this time of the day. You cease to care at this point, because the job is undone because you haven’t come undone. 

You don’t know why this is happening. Maybe it’s because you’ve had the liberty to touch yourself in complete silence, now that your neighbors have been confined to their homes indefinitely. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since you’ve relied only on your touch, that your body is tired of the monotony and needs more.

You bang the heels of your feet against your flimsy mattress, feeling whiny and utterly dissatisfied. Pulling the vibrator from your clit, you glare at the infuriating toy.

“You’re supposed to be helping me out of my dry spell,” you chastise, throwing the toy across the bed, sliding onto the carpet, “I get you’re not Jeon’s dick, but you gotta help a sister out.” 

With a sigh, you fall into a bout of exhaustion. Not from a round of orgasms, but from the week’s stress and no way to let it out. 

You wake up bleary and disoriented, practically melding through the mattress. The sky is pink and blue, washed in a sea of corals and purples. It comes from the incessant banging. 

“Stop it,” you whine more to yourself than whoever dares to disturb your sleep, pulling up your panties and a pair of navy dolphin-trim shorts. “Whoever you are I’m comin’ so stop!” 

Swinging the door open in two strides you’re met with a chipper Jeon Jungkook; looking all cute and sweet in his big hoodie and smelling like a rosebud. 

“It’s 6:30,” he narrows his eyes playfully at you, “dinner’s in the oven.” 

“You left your oven on,” you deadpan, turning around to grimace at the mess that’s your one-room apartment. 

“Yes, so we have exactly ten minutes before my kitchen explodes in flames,” Jungkook chirps, closing the door behind you. 

You don’t even bother to tell him to excuse the mess, ignore the pile of bras hanging on your vanity and the unpacked groceries that sit at the edge of your mini-fridge. It’s far too late to salvage your dignity and Jungkook’s too damn polite to call you out on your state of slob. Although, as you pull out a bottle of wine tucked in the back of your fridge you blurt, “I can hear your fingers tingling to clean up my mess.” 

When you turn around Jungkook stuffs his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, supposedly to stop himself from cleaning up. With a pout he says, “Can’t help it, Jimin says I’m currently manifesting a strong display of Virgo energy this month. Whatever that means.” 

Jabbing your feet in a pair of slides you follow Jungkook out the door. The hallways are quiet and barren, yet the silence isn’t suffocating as you two pile into the elevator. Jungkook opens the keypad underneath the regular boring buttons, revealing a sleek little set of light-up buttons that have the code to the penthouse. Faaaannnnccy. 

“Tryna look?” he jokes, cupping his hands to block your vision. 

You scoff, “I’m sure it’s something easy like 0000.” 

“You’re wrong. It’s 1234,” he replies cheekily. 

The door dings open and you’re met with yet another door. Jungkook presses his thumb to the biometric scanner, and a pleasant ringer tings in response. 

The penthouse smells like a mix of tonight’s dinner, savory, combined with a cinnamon apple candle. Jungkook is a fan of scented candles, ever since he got a whiff of your lavender vanilla burner. 

“Where’s Taehyung?” you ask, more out of your own anxiousness than anything. Taehyung’s  your buffer, the hyper roommate being someone to distract you from Jungkook’s incessant aura. 

“Dunno,” he shrugs, flicking on the oven light to peer inside. You see the telltale signs of a mean lasagna, the shredded cheese on top crisping to a delicious-looking golden brown, “anyway, you’re my friend first.” 

As grotesque as it sounds, Jungkook always finds his way to worm his way under your skin and find homage there. “Possessive much?” you quirk a brow, folding your arms over your chest even though there’s nothing to hide. 

“What can I say,” Jungkook’s legs stretch out as he squats down to your level, “I really fell for you.” 

“Gross,” you try to convince yourself, ignoring the thudding in your chest, “you technically fell on me, weirdo.” 

Dinner is a quick affair. He cuts slices of lasagna and brings it to the couch, where you’re pouring glasses of wine in crystal glasses. They’re so clean and shiny you can see your reflection in the gold liquid. You grimace at the bottle, normally this would be poured in a mug or your sippy cup, tonight your liquid’s getting a high-end pour. 

You two pull up an old anime to fill up the room, but most of it is spent in playful banter. Jungkook prattles on about his day, showing you all the cool updates he’s achieved during work. An app developer. A very on-brand, lucrative job for him. You love your job but it isn’t nearly as exciting as Jungkook’s, so you just let yourself be supportive and ask questions when needed. 

When the subject of you comes up, you shake your head and stuff your face with another cut of al dente pasta.

“Not interestin’ Jeon,” you mumble, groaning at how delicious his cooking is. What can’t he do? “Is this oregano? Is the secret ingredient toasted oregano—” 

“You’re deflecting.” 

Your shoulders slump, “I’m not very interesting, I tell you everything I do during the week and nothing has changed since March.” 

“Oh, not everything,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. You furrow your brows as his hands stuff themselves in his hoodie pocket. Is he upset you won’t tell him about your work stress? “And you’re very interesting, I’ll have you know.” 

“Yeah?” a small smile tugs on your lips. You sink further into his cottonball of a couch, feeling utterly soft and meldable at his words.

“Very,” Jungkook gets up from the couch, looking down at you, “want something sweet?” 

The prospect of dessert has you excited. Jungkook really is the perfect man, so kind and knows exactly when you’re craving something for your sweet tooth. You move to get up, only for you to sink further between the two large cushions of the loveseat. “Help me, ’m stuck,” you pout.

Jungkook giggles, and holds out his palm, “Hand,” he says simply.

You immediately reach for his larger palm, and you gasp when you feel something cold and soft touch your palm. As if you’ve been burned, you tug your hand back. But Jungkook’s hand is massive, the large ink-painted palm curling around your own, and it’s almost painful the way he clutches your hand so fiercely. 

When he’s sure you’re not going to drop it, he releases your hand. 

Nestled in your palm, is the new vibrator you left on the carpet this afternoon.

“Jeon,” you laugh tonelessly, hating the way Jungkook’s neutral expression mocks you, “you found my USB? Thanks, I know—” 

“Know that you’re having a hard time coming?” Carefully extracting your plate from your lap, he places it on the coffee table before Jungkook cages you between the couch. You shrink further into the plush seat, “I tried being a good neighbor, but you didn’t answer my texts. I heard you when I tried dropping off some snacks before dinner. Didn’t know you were into toys.” 

“Oh, c’mon Jeon. It’s 2020 and we’re confined,” well, in this scenario you’re confined, “everyone has a sex toy.” 

“Hm, I don’t have one,” Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, pretending to be deep in thought, “so, can you be my toy?” 

Fuck. 

It’s then that you feel the tell-tale signs of arousal. Your eyes widen, innocently surprised at the fact that Jeon Jungkook contained so much power in so few words. You snap your legs shut immediately, sealing any possibility of you dripping down your panties. 

“I heard how disappointed you were, doll,” his arms have no problems as he bends down so he’s eye-level with your crotch, “it was pathetic, really. You couldn’t even cum on your own? You need someone to help you?” 

“N-no,” you cross your arms defensively, frowning, “you–you’re being mean, Jeon.”

“And what, you’re gonna cry about it?” Jungkook smirks, now sitting on his knees. His hands run over the velvety fabric of the couch, making a beeline for your thighs. Gooseflesh rises to the surface, and he immediately presses down to iron out the little bumps that travel across your skin, “I do wanna make you cry, but not because you can’t cum. You’ll cry because of how good I’m gonna make you feel.” 

You gape, clutching the vibrator in your hand. 

A little bit of your sweet, cute Jungkook resurfaces, softening when he notices your lack of response, “If you’ll let me, of course.” 

You finally drag the words from your throat, “I-it’s been a long time since I’ve… been with someone.” 

He tilts his head, “Same here. I just figured we could break that spell together.” 

What are you going to say? No? A dishonor to your sexuality, that would be. Jungkook’s offering himself up on a silver platter, and even though you do wish it was a little more you’ll take the sex. 

You nod, forgetting to speak again. Jungkook chuckles. 

“I want to hear you say it, doll.” 

Doll. Like you’re his little fucktoy, malleable and bendable to all his whims. Fuck, why is that so hot to you? “Yes, I want to have sex with you,” you declare, your voice sounding more breathy than confident, “a-and, you can be mean. If you want.” 

His thumbs press little light indents in your skin, over and over as if fascinated by the way your skin is so soft and gummy in his grip. “Okay,” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to pull out his phone, jabbing a few things that you don’t see, “let’s do a little test drive, then.” 

In seconds, the little egg vibrates in your touch. He puts it on the lowest setting, a soft buzz echoing in the large living room, then at a bruising pace that forces you to curl your fingers around it otherwise it’d fall. Your eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s, who’s focusing entirely on the way the pink and silver egg moves, dilated in interest. 

“Fuck, and you thought this thing was broken?” he asks, taking it out of your palm and turning off the app. 

“Maybe I’m the broken one,” you admit softly, wringing your shirt. 

Silence seeps. Jungkook looks at you, brows furrowed as if he’s annoyed. “Don’t ever say that,” when you don’t respond, he grabs your chin, and you gasp when he forces you to look at him, “you’re not broken, doll. Everyone’s body is different, and we’re going to discover yours together. Got it?” 

“Y-yes,” you reply immediately, mesmerized by his seriousness. 

“Good,” he slaps the vibrator back in your palm, “and in case you’re wondering, this goes inside.” 

“I know how it works,” you scowl, “but won’t you show me, just in case?” 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Jungkook gets up for good, piling the dishes in his arms and walking to the sink. You immediately miss his warmth, “but I think patience is a virtue. I have a developer meeting with some clients in America a little bit, actually. So just wait for my call, yeah?” 

You frown, looking down at the vibrator in your hands. How much longer would you have to wait? 

It happens at exactly three in the afternoon the next day, at the start of your staff meeting. You’re so tired of the same information being thrown back and forth, coupled with Brian and Jae having to fight over some mundane subject in the itinerary that no one cares about. For goodness sake, it’s Friday! What else would you possibly need to be meeting about? 

You’re wearing a button-down dress shirt on top, no pants on the bottom. Your bare feet slap against the hardwood floor, antsy. It’s been a long day at work and your back hurts, you’re half tempted to dip out of this meeting and hope no one notices. 

Your phone buzzes on your bed, and you blanch. 

[3:01] Jeon: thanks for waiting, doll. It’s time 

[3:01] Jeon: put it in

Shamelessly, your vibrator sits next to your phone, cleaned and ready to go. 

[3:02] Jeon: need help? Answer my call

Making sure that your Zoom call is muted, you quickly answer the incoming phone call. Jungkook and you say nothing at first, waiting. The phone just ticks with the amount of time passing, one minute, two minutes, and so on. 

Mr. Kim drones unknowingly, “So when we do return to live instruction, expect a strict process when returning. PPE must be enforced so our response team will—” 

“How wet were you last night when you went home?” Jungkook asks languidly, speaking over your boss’ voice. 

Your eyes widen, flickering back and forth between the phone and the camera displaying Mr. Kim’s boring speech. 

“Doll, are you hard of hearing?” 

“N-no,” your lips barely move, eyes glued to the camera and plastering an expressionless face, “I heard you.” 

“Then give me an answer,” he says patiently, “how wet were you?” 

“Very wet.”

“Little more detail.” 

“Soaking wet,” you flush, thankful that your work laptop can only stream in 360p. “I haven’t gotten that wet in such—such a long time. My pussy was practically clinging to my underwear when I washed up that night.” 

A heady, heavy groan resonates through your phone. You feel that voice straight into your panties, jolting the nerves awake. 

“Fuck, you have a way with words, don’t you?” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “c’mon, touch yourself for me. Swirl your fingers around your clit, slowly.” 

It takes a second for you to position yourself, spreading your legs in a way that your coworkers don’t question why you’re moving so much. A quick scan over all the tired faces says that you’re okay. Shyly, you press your fingers against your clit, doing as he says. 

“Oh,” you say more to yourself than him, feeling the wetness already coating your fingers. This is earlier than usual. 

“What?” 

“I’m already wet,” you say, amazed, “I haven’t gotten wet this quickly in a long time.” 

He scoffs, “If you’re so wet now, shove it in.” 

You frown. You did tell him to be mean. But the idea of him telling you what to do, giving you all the porn-worthy experiences to accomplish has you relenting. Discreetly grabbing the egg from the bed, you bring it down to your panties. Swirling the cold metal around your clit, you coat it in your juices. 

It’s still a little too early to be putting anything in, but you can take it. Slowly relaxing, you slip the little egg in your pussy, wiggling it a little to make sure it’s secure. It’s a strange sort of pressure, and it pokes against your clit from the inside, but you enjoy the stretch. 

“It’s in,” you reply softly. 

“Good.” 

You wait. You listen to Jae make yet another speech about the importance of masks and gloves, and then Brian has to interject and say that gloves are literally useless because they spread germs around no matter what. Even though everyone else is muted, you can practically feel the misery seeping through the screen. For a second you almost forget about Jungkook on the line. Why isn’t Mr. Kim stopping them? This is the thin line stopping you from the weekend, unbelievable! 

“Eep!” you jolt in your cheap seat, the egg buzzing in your pussy. Your hands fly out, gripping the edges of your computer. 

It hits different when Jungkook is in control. Knowing that with a flick of his thumb he can have you careening, whining for more or less depending on how hard he wants you go. Your folds hug the egg, nestling it a fleshy grip as it brushes against your clit the more you squirm. 

“You look so pretty, trying so hard to hold in your moans,” Jungkook says wondrously from the other line. 

“W-what?” you frown, “you can see me?” 

And immediately, you go to your trackpad to fish between the hundred-and-one employees also in this call. At the very end, you see a very simple name with no mic or camera: Jeon JK. He’s here. 

“Worked in IT, doll. Know a thing or two,” he says, “now, tell me. What are you thinking about right now?” 

“Y-you,” you mumble shyly. 

“So,” Mr. Kim finally ends that part of the meeting, thank goodness, “what’s everyone’s plans this weekend? I’m going apple picking with a couple of my friends from college. Hoseok is a bright bean who loves to take long walks—”

What the hell. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat, hyperaware that Jungkook’s watching your every move. You make glossy, stubborn eyes at the camera, trying not to move when he jacks up the vibrator to a higher setting. 

Jae’s of course the next employee to unmute his microphone, “Well, me and the bae are going house hunting…” 

“Fuck!” you cry, moving the computer to the left so you can pretend you’re picking up something. But in fact you're leaning your head against your mattress, frustrated. “I don’t fucking care about your weekend plans, Jae! Shut the fuck up! You wanna know my weekend plans?” Jungkook’s laughing at you from the other line, but it only spurs you on, “my plans are fucking my super hot neighbor! He’s a hundred times more interesting than you and he’s going to make me come a hundred times this weekend—oh fuck!” 

Your fingers latch onto your panties, drawing random squiggles and letters between the fabric. You’re damp, soaked to the core. You need some sort of friction, a reprieve from this hellish week.

“You flatter me, doll,” Jungkook is definitely grinning through the phone, you can practically hear his shit-eating grin, “I think you deserve a reward. As soon as you put the camera back on your pretty face.” 

Quickly, you sit up to put the camera on you again. Once again, the employees are in a daze, listening to whatever the next person gabs about their weekend. Even though you can’t really see it, you’re sure Jungkook has a 1080p camera upstairs that shows off your blotchy face. You moan a little bit, lips closed as the egg buzzes against your pussy lips. 

“You’re so cute, doll,” Jungkook praises, “you look so professional, holding it in. What could I do to make you unravel? Hm, what if you imagined the taste of my cock on your lips? Fuck, I’d love to slap your cute little face with my cock, baby doll–”

“y/n?” Mr. Kim calls your name, and you freeze, “what about you? Any plans this weekend?” 

Jungkook doesn’t sound angry that your boss has inadvertently cut him off. “Answer him, doll. Be a good little employee.” 

Like a zombie, you move towards the unmute button. “I–I uh,” you shake your head, trying to formulate a coherent response, “I’m going on a date this weekend.” 

Jungkook jacks up the vibrator to high, and your legs are shaking. 

“Awh, a date!” Mr. Park unmutes himself, practically shoving the camera in his face, “how much do you like the lucky lad or lady?” 

“I like him uh—ah—” you pretend to think, covering a hand over your mouth to hide the fact that you feel your orgasm fast approaching, “I like him a lot!” you finally blurt, “I’m, uh, really excited to see him.” 

“Best of luck to you,” Mr. Kim says brightly, “so Jimin, any news on those investors you had dinner with this weekend? I heard a lot of positive things…”

You immediately mute your mic, and pretend to lag as you fumble around with the camera. Shoving the laptop to the side once more you groan into your sheets, “Fuck—fuck yes—” you moan, shaking your head as you dip your fingers into your panties. The vibrator still continues at its bruising pace, spurring you to a high you haven’t peaked to in months.

“Good job,” Jungkook says simply, “could barely notice that you have a little helper fiddling around your dripping pussy.”

“J-Jeon,” you cry, “I’m, ’m gonna cum.” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook eggs you on, “you’re gonna cum around that cute little vibrator? Gonna soak it in your juices?” 

“W-wish it was your cock I was soaking,” you whisper truthfully, letting your orgasm take you at the thought. Your folds flutter around the vibrator, bringing you to a level of sensitivity you’ve only dreamt of, “Ah, yes, Jeon. It feels s-so good!” 

“Yes baby,” Jungkook groans through the line, “feels good, huh?” 

Mr. Kim interrupts for the last time, “And with that, I think our meeting is adjourned. Have a wonderful weekend! Stay safe and—” 

You slam the laptop shut, grabbing your phone and keys. “I’m going up,” you mutter impatiently, already jabbing your feet in a pair of slippers and locking the door to your apartment behind you. 

“I’m waiting,” he replies, eagerness trimming his voice. 

“Password?” you ask quickly, jabbing the elevator door shut once you step inside. Thank goodness you’re alone, you think as you pull your dress shirt further down your ass. 

“Did you forget already?” he teases, “I told you, it’s 1234.” 

Thankfully, the doors zip you up straight to the penthouse. The connection is always a little spotty in elevators, and you sigh longingly when you feel the buzz jolt and leave it’s momentum, quickly losing its rhythm between your dripping folds. Once you get to the top and the elevator doors open the second door immediately swings open, revealing a soft but aroused-looking Jungkook. He looks fresh from the shower, absolutely radiant and delicious looking. 

You don’t hesitate to run up to him, and Jungkook immediately cups his face in your hands, pressing his lips to yours. 

You’re practically on your tippy-toes, and you squeak against his lips when he hooks his arms around your shoulders, immediately lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his trim waist, not wanting to stop kissing him. He’s like the sweetest ambrosia, a taste you can’t get enough of. 

The connection to your vibrator has resumed, and you can’t help but grind helplessly under Jungkook’s clothed abs as he carries the both of you to his bedroom.

“N-need you to fuck me,” you bury your head in the crook of his neck, pressing quick kisses to his jawline, “I want you s-so badly.” 

“Hello to you too,” he husks, shutting the bedroom door with his foot. 

Jungkook drops you unceremoniously, and your limbs splay out on the fresh bedsheets of his feather-soft mattress.

“You look gorgeous like this, doll.” he sighs longingly, a hand going under your buttondown to press against your soaked panties. His hand lingers on the way your pussy moves in tandem with the vibrator. 

“J-Jeon please I can’t take it—” 

“Stop calling me that,” he snaps, hands leaving your skin.

You whine at the loss of contact, “Jeon, no. Jungkook. Kook, my Kook. Please, I need you.” 

That gets him going. His pretty chocolate brown eyes zero in on you, and he immediately shucks off his shirt and sweatpants, “How much do you need me?” he asks, pulling out his phone and pressing some buttons, “how much do you need your Kook?” 

The vibrator stops. You cry out in frustration, unsure if it’s because it’s off or because Jungkook’s taking too damn long. “I need you so much, Kook,” you warble with a pout, moving to undo the top buttons of your dress shirt to reveal your cleavage, “honey, you can have me all you want later today. I want you to slap my face with your dick, edge me until I cry, anything. I’m all yours, I’m your little doll. But please for now, I need to feel you inside me.” 

“Say no more,” his lips latch onto your neck, and you sigh at the skin-to-skin contact. His hand fiddles under your shirt, clutching a breast and slapping it so hard it bounces back and forth, “fuck, you’re so pretty.” 

His hand moves to your plain cotton panties, immediately shucking them off, “doll, you really are dripping,” he’s impressed, surprised when he has to untack the fabric from your glossy legs. He hangs the panties on his wooden headboard, a little ornament for him to jack off to later. 

His fingers brush over your folds, wasting no time to slip the vibrator out. He holds it between your faces, forcing you to stare at the pearly substance that coats the entirety of the egg. “Mm, tasty tasty,” he cooes, pink tongue darting out to lick a long strip across the oval. 

You tug him closer, pressing his lips to yours. He tastes a mixture of his own saliva and your arousal, and you grind helplessly against him. You feel how big his cock is, rock-hard and trying very diligently not to bust. He must have a crazy amount of control, and it drives you nuts. 

“Kook,” you frown, bumping your crotch with his.

“Impatient, good thing I am too,” he shucks off his boxers while you unbutton the rest of your shirt, “knees and hands, doll.” 

You don’t care how or what way he’ll take you. Fuck, he could bend you into an Auntie Anne’s pretzel and you’d comply. 

Arching your back so your ass is in the air, you wiggle around, hoping he’ll take the bait. That’s when you sigh, feeling the tip of his dick brush against your wetness.

“Soaking my cock already, baby,” he says, “you’re so good to me.” 

And finally, finally, he slips in. You don’t even care that it stretches you a little too far and too long, it’s been too damn long since you’ve had decent dick and Jungkooks far more than decent. 

He goes at a quick pace, finally showing how impatient he’s been all this time. Your moans and groans fill the room, a symphony of pleasure and pain as he stretches your walls to the brim. You hold a pillow to your chest, feeling woozy at the way his fat cock stretches you out. 

“F-fuck yeah,” the pace is hard, you practically feel it in your belly, and you love it. “You feel so fucking tight, baby,” he’s all up in your ear, kissing the lobe briefly, “I love the way you suck my cock back in.” 

“Kook,” you press your ass back, “harder, please. I’m your little doll, right? Y-you can fuck me however you want, as hard as you want! Please, ah—! Use me!” 

You cry out when he slips from your folds, immediately flipping you on your back. He wastes no time to wet his dick, lifting one leg over his shoulder to have you deeper. This position is far more intimate, and your noses are practically touching as he thrusts into you. 

You can’t believe you’re in bed with Jeon Jungkook. This must be a dream, a really great, really long wet dream. You crumble in his grip, and you lift a shaky hand to run through his thick black strands. 

“Why’d you make me wait so long?” you cry, staring right into his glittering eyes, “why couldn’t you come for me after your call last night?” 

“Why’d I make you wait?” he grits, crushing the flesh between your hip bones so he can have more leverage to pound into you, “why did you make me wait? Since March, I’ve wanted you. I told you I liked you, told you I fell for you.” 

“T-thought it was a joke,” you warble pathetically, breasts bouncing at his relentless rhythm.

“You think th-this is a joke?” for further emphasis, he glides slower, making you feel just how large and thick he is against your folds, “I want you, doll. Y-yeah, fu-fuck. Want to feed you every day, feed you lasagna, feed you with my cum, make you happy.” 

“I—I want that too, Kook,” you’re a pile of pink mush, and you feel your eyes prick from the overwhelming emotions that have washed over both of you. “Sh-shit, Kook. I think, I think I’m gon’ cum again.” 

“Good, you first,” his hand plays figure 8s with your precious pearl, seeping with arousal and coating his cock in delicious lubrication. 

It doesn’t take long for you to cum. You’re holding him as tight as you can, nails digging into his shoulders as you clench around his cock. Jungkook cums shortly after, and you keen at the sensitivity when his hot cum coats your walls. “Baby doll,” he exhales, thrusting lazily. The both of you feel your combined arousal drip between the two of you, onto your skin and onto his sheets, “y-you’re amazing.” 

His softened cock slips out of you, and his hands immediately reach over to swirl around the heady cream over your engorged pussy. You moan when he brings his fingers to your lips, “Open, doll.” 

It tastes salty yet sweet, and you suckle around his finger with a cute little pop. Jungkook grins brightly, feeling like he won the lottery. 

“Are my walls that thin?” you pout, pressing closer to him when he pulls the blankets to your chest. 

“Very,” Jungkook nods with a chuckle, tucking the two of you in, “now get some rest, doll. You presented a lot of offers to me earlier, and I intend to go through with them.” 

You smile into his chest, melty and feeling utterly sated. 

[hockey-player-jeno]

more than life l. mark

pairing: mark lee x jisung's older sister!reader

word count: 6.5k (wow)

angst and fluff

warnings: a lot of crying ig, occasional cursing, suggestive in the beginning (if you squint)

playlist: ghost by justin bieber, who you are by jessie j, half a heart by one direction

a/n: i've seen a lot of x member's younger sister but i haven't really seen x member's older sister, especially jisung's, so i figured this would be fun! this story was a long time coming so hope you enjoy!

~*~

Perfect.

Everything was perfect.

You were lying in your boyfriend’s arms on his bed and watching Disney movies on his laptop with the lights low. Everything about this scene was perfect.

It was a rare Saturday night where Mark and your schedules finally lined up and had a night to spend some quality time together.

In the middle of watching Wall-E at around two thirty in the morning, Mark starts to get a little handsy. His hands travel up and down your side under the blanket, each stroke moving lower towards your rear. Smirking inwardly, you choose to ignore him just to get a reaction out of him. He begins to grow impatient as your focus is still on the movie, so he just ends up grabbing your ass, finally gaining your attention.

When you pick up your head up off his chest to protest, he leans down to capture your neck in light kisses.

You giggle at him as you tilt your head, giving him more access to your neck, “You know, it was your idea to watch this. Why aren’t you watching it?”

Mark hums, “Found something else better to do.”

He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls your body over top of his, not letting up on your neck.

Once you’re situated over your boyfriend, Mark detaches his lips from your neck, and smiles up at you.

“Hi,” he laughs.

“Hi,” you laugh back as you lean down to kiss him again.

This was perfect.

He is perfect.

Everything was perfect.

Until there was a soft knock on the door.

“Noona?” You both hear a timid voice come from the other side.

You recognize the voice and internally groan, pulling away from Mark’s inviting lips to put you head in the crook of his neck, “Yeah, Jisung?”

Why would he come all the way to the 127 dorms just to talk to you when he has a whole phone he can use to contact you? And who would even drive him at this time?

“Can- can I come in?” The poor boy behind the door stuttered out.

You picked your head up and looked at Mark with a confused gaze to why your little brother would be outside your boyfriend’s bedroom door allegedly upset at such a late hour.

A few beats pass and neither of you move.

“Hyung, noona? Are, are y-you awake?” Jisung sniffles, jiggling the doorknob.

You blink a few times, getting yourself out of your confused state.

“Yeah, yeah, Sung just give me a moment,” you scramble off of Mark to unlock the door.

Mark reluctantly pauses the movie after you get up off his bed, not too keen on his bandmate interrupting the quality time he’s spending with his girlfriend.

When you finally unlock the knob and open the door, Jisung stumbles a bit from leaning his forehead against the wood. Finally getting a good look at your brother, the now taller than you boy stands in the doorway with his head down, shoulders hunched, twiddling with his fingers, and tears falling down his flushed cheeks.

“Sungie?” You probe. “What’s wrong?”

He looks away from his fingers to look at you. Before he can get a word out his bottom lip trembles and sob wracks his entire body. Your poor baby brother now stands in the doorway, hysterical with his hands over his eyes, completely sobbing. At this point Mark has sprung off his bed and jumped into action.

With the help of your boyfriend, the both of you managed to sit the youngest NCT member down on the bed as he sobbed into his hands.

The room was quiet despite Jisung’s sobs.

“Hey, hey, hey, baby look at me. Sungie please look at me,” you pleaded.

You were only met with more sobs.

“Jisung, please look at me,” you brokenly whisper.

You mentally curse your parents for letting you both be so sensitive with each other. Despite the four-year age gap between you two, you are as close as brother and sister can get. You’re each other’s best friends. You feel each other’s pain. All the time when you both were little, when he was upset and cried you got upset and cried and vice versa. Old habits really die hard.

As much as you tried to hold it in and stay strong to get answers out of him, your emotions took over and tears began rolling down your face.

You sniffled, “Jisung, I can’t help you if you don’t say anything.”

For a while, as your brother cried, you kept your hands on his knees in hopes it will keep him grounded. Mark sits on the bed next to Jisung, arm wrapped around his shoulder, rubbing his hand up and down his arm in a soothing manner.

Soon enough Jisung’s sobs turned into quiet cries, and he slowly took his hands away from his face.

You reach up to cup his face, “Hey, I’m here. I’m right here.”

Jisung looks at you with starry eyes then he glances at Mark.

“C-can we- um,” Jisung sniffles, looking at his hands again. “Can we talk a-alone? Just y-you and me?”

You glance at Mark and then back to your brother, “Yeah. Yeah, of course.” You hold a hand out, “Let’s go talk in the living room.”

You stand up off the floor and Jisung takes your hand. Before you walk out of Mark’s room you give him an apologetic look before leading Jisung into the living room.

-

Settling down on the couch, you let out a long sigh. Looking at your poor brother next to you, you reach out your left hand and place it on top his folded hands in his lap. Your other arm sets itself on top of the back of the couch while you run your fingers through his hair on the back of his neck, soothing him. You let a few beats of quiet pass before speaking up.

“Hey,” you whisper. “Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

He stays silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

“I just haven’t- uh um,” he cleared his throat, trying to keep himself calm. “I haven’t felt like myself lately.” His voice trailed off toward the end.

“How so?” You pry.

He took a deep breath and began to ramble, “The pressure is getting to me or something. I don’t know. I just don’t like how I’m feeling. I don’t feel right. I don’t know if I’m depressed. I don’t know what that actually feels like, but I really hope it isn’t that. I don’t want to be depressed. I just want to feel like myself again.”

Jisung hiccups back a sob. If your heart didn’t clench when he first walked in hysterical, it certainly was now. The thought of your baby brother being depressed weighs heavy on your heart. How have you not noticed this drastic change?

“Have you talked about this with your therapist?” You ask.

“I-uh haven’t seen her in a while,” he answers meekly.

“Well, how longs ‘a while’?”

He sighs and leans his head into your hand that’s massaging his scalp and shrugs, “A couple weeks. I, uh, kinda lost track at this point.”

“Jisung,” you start, but you stop yourself knowing this isn’t the time to be scolding him about not going to see his therapist. “Jisung, it’s okay not to be okay sometimes, you know that.”

“I know,” he sniffles.

He lets out another sigh, but his stature is still rigid. As much as you don’t want to keep pressing him about the real reason why he’s upset, you can’t help but want him to feel better.

“Jisung there’s obviously something more than just pressure bothering you. Do you wanna keep talking or do you want to table this until tomorrow?”

He pauses, contemplating whether or not he actually wants to say what’s on his mind.

You watch his lips twitch, almost practicing what he wants to say, but he doesn’t let anything out, yet you sit and wait patiently as he collects his thoughts. He opens his mouth and shuts it a few times not knowing how to phrase his wording.

Then he finally speaks up.

“I guess I just,” he starts but pauses. “Miss you and stuff,” his bottom lip trembles. “I just really miss you.”

You pause a moment.

He misses you?

What does it mean he misses you? He sees you all the time. You talk all the time. You see each other-

A few more seconds pass and you finally piece together the real reason why he’s here. The real reason why he’s upset. The real reason why you didn’t realize he wasn’t feeling like himself.

He’s been feeling off and you haven’t been there for him. You haven’t noticed he’s been feeling off because your priorities lied elsewhere lately.

Racking your brain, you realized the last time you actually sat down with him to have a meal or spend some quality time together was about a month ago.

He’s hurting and feeling neglected by his own older sister.

“Is it because I’ve been spending so much time with Mark?” You whisper out.

Jisung looks at you dead in the eye terrified, shaking his head, “No no no no. I promise you no.”

His mouth says one thing, but his eyes say another. You know the look he gives you when he tries to lie to you.

And then it really hits you. You’ve been putting almost all your attention on your boyfriend compared to your brother.

You shake your head, “Sung, you’re lying. I can tell.”

His bottom lip trembles again and his eyes go blurry with fresh tears, “I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I’m sorry I didn’t want to come here tonight knowing you were with him. I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

You crash into him with probably the biggest hug you’ve given him in a while. His arms wrap around your middle and you hold each other so tightly neither of you can breathe.

A string of “I’m sorry’s” continuously flow out of Jisung’s mouth along with the occasional sob. Tears flow out of your eyes too and your mind is going a million miles a minute.

“Jisung, you shouldn’t be apologizing right now. You’ve done nothing wrong. I should be apologizing to you.”

“No, I shouldn’t have come here,” he sobbed. “I shouldn’t have pulled you away from Mark tonight. I know how busy he is and he wants to see you and-“

You pull yourself away to look at your brother in the face, cupping his flushed cheeks, “Jisung, you should not be apologizing for how you feel. You should never apologize for how you feel. I should be apologizing to you,” your voice cracked, the first time tonight it happened.

You took your hands off his face and put them against yours as sobs rippled through you. Jisung pulled you in close again, rubbing your back up and down as he continued to cry himself.

As much as you two felt each other’s pain, you always wanted to be the strong one for him and now here you are crying in your brother’s arms, feeling so guilty.

“I forgive you y/n. You don’t have to be so hard on yourself,” he pleaded.

“I’m such a bad sister,” you mumbled into your hands.

Jisung hugged you tighter, “No you’re not.”

The both of you sat in silence for a while longer, just continuing to cry.

When the tears finally halt for the both of you, you just hold each other, absorbing the post breakdown bliss.

You take a deep breath, and you pull away from your brother a bit, putting your hands on his shoulders.

You sniffle, “It’s late. You should go to bed, yeah?”

Jisung nods his head having no reason to protest, starting to lie back on the couch. You move off to let him have the space to himself and place yourself on the floor next to his head.

When his head hits the arm of the couch, his eyes begin to flutter shut. Your hand unconsciously moves to his scalp, running your fingers through his hair again.

“We’ll talk more in the morning, okay? I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you too,” he mumbles out.

Within seconds he was out cold.

-

“Everything alright out there?” Mark asks as you come back in his room and closed the door. “You were out there for quite some time.”

“He’s asleep,” you breathe out not making eye contact.

“Come here, let’s lie down,” he whispers, as he takes your hand and guides you down onto your spot on his bed.

You lie down on his right with your head on his chest and he wraps his right arm around your shoulders.

He turns the movie back on to pick up where you left off. However, any interest you originally had in watching it is now out the window. All your thoughts were consumed by your brother and what you could do to help him.

Noticing your stiff discomfort, Mark pauses the movie for the second time tonight.

“Babe, I can basically hear the gears turning in your head,” he whispers. “Talk to me. What happened?”

A tear leaks out of your left eye onto his t-shirt, and you swallow thickly, “Am I a bad sister?”

Mark was taken aback, “Babe, the last thing you are is a bad sister. What happened out there?”

You sniffled and waited a moment, “He basically said he’s been feeling neglected by me because you and I have been spending so much time together and I don’t make time for him anymore and he didn’t want to say anything to us because he knows how much we love each other and he doesn’t want to intrude and he’s also going through some mental stuff on top of that and I haven’t been there to notice it and-“

“Y/n, y/n, slow down. Jisung is a big boy now, you do know you don’t have to coddle him and be his keeper, right? You have your own life to worry about.”

The response made by Mark confused you, “What do you mean coddle him and that ‘I have my own life to worry about’?”

“I mean, you fret over him a lot which isn’t a bad thing, but I feel like he depends on you too much.”

Your confusion is slowly making its way toward anger the longer you and Mark are discussing this. “He’s my little brother. I’m allowed to be worried about him, Mark, regardless of if I have my own issues. He’s my family.”

“I never said you can’t be. All I’m saying is you should maybe lay off him a bit. Let him be his own person for once. Like look at him coming to you in hysterics just now while we are trying to have a night to ourselves.”

You sat up on your boyfriend’s bed, “Mark, where is this coming from? I’m allowed to calm down my brother when he’s upset.”

“Again, I never said you couldn’t. All I’m saying is-“

“Yeah, I know ‘lean off of him’ or whatever you said but he needs me and you’re being selfish ‘cause I’m not focused on you right now.”

“How am I being selfish?” Mark now growing agitated with your attitude.

“I just told you! Clearly, you’re not listening either! You’re arguing with me over my brother! What I can and can’t do for him and for me to only pay attention to you! You’re gonna sit there and tell me that’s not being selfish? “

“Okay fine maybe it is but I’m allowed to be selfish and want you to myself! Jisung doesn’t always need you to calm him down!”

“You may not get it because you’re the youngest in your family, but you’re telling me your brother wouldn’t do the same for you?”

“I never needed his help with stuff like this!”

“I find that hard to believe,” you scoff and rolled your eyes.

Mark groans and threads his fingers through his hair, “Can we talk about this later and finish the mov-“

“No were talking about this now,” you reply shortly. “You’re being selfish.”

“You just said he’s asleep! How could he possibly need your help if he’s asleep?”

“Mark, you don’t get it-“

“He doesn’t need your help for fucks sake! Alright? Let it go! He’s an adult! He can handle himself! You don’t need to be breathing down his neck every time he cries! ‘Cause guess what? He doesn’t need you! He doesn’t always need your help!” Mark finally roars at you.

Never once has he snapped at you like that. Never has he ever talked about Jisung like that.

Waiting a few beats, you watch the anger dissolve out of Mark’s eyes and see it turn into guilt, “Y/n, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-“

You scoff again at him as you throw the covers off your body and get up off the bed.

“Y/n, c’mon. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it, huh?” You whip around seething with fresh tears springing in your eyes. “He may be your bandmate that is finally legal and ‘can handle things on his own’ but he’s still my baby brother and I will continue to coddle the shit out of him until the day he dies! So don’t ever tell me he doesn’t need me because sometimes I need him more than he needs me!”

You were shaking with rage, tears one after the other were streaming down your face and you made no effort to wipe them away.

“Y/n. Baby, I’m sorry-”

“How dare you?” You whisper. “How dare you Mark Lee, demanding me to not help my brother. Because news flash in case you forgot, I’m his sister before I’m your girlfriend. Think about that.”

You gather your things and head to the door.

“And don’t ever put words in Jisung’s mouth ever again. He never once said he doesn’t need me, so that’s complete and utter bull shit and you know it,” you voice out as you open the door.

On the other side was Yuta wearing a shocked expression and his fist up, seeming as though he was about to knock on the door to ask if everything was okay.

Before you let him get a word in you say, “I’m sleeping on your couch with Jisung who is sleeping already. We’ll be out when we wake up in the morning. I’m sorry if we may have woken you up.”

You brush past him and make your way to the living room.

-

Yuta watched you as you left the bedroom and walked towards the living room with your stuff. He then turns towards Mark.

“Dude, what just happened?” Yuta asked your sulking boyfriend. “I didn’t think letting Jisung into the dorm would stir up tension like this.” He let out a forced chuckle.

Not saying anything, Mark puts his head in his hands, now being his turn to let the tears flow.

-

You set everything down on the coffee table and look at your sleeping brother with what you are pretty sure is Yuta’s blanket over his head. All the members are fully aware that this is the way he likes to sleep. Careful not to disturb him, you lifted the end of the blanket, tuck your head under it and climb on top of him. When you finally get yourself situated, your ear lies against his chest, and you snake your arms around his middle. You’re not sure how much time passes when you feel Jisung’s arms shift and wrap around your waist.

You then fall asleep to the peaceful thumping of your brother’s heart.

-

For the next two weeks, Mark tried reaching out to you, trying to make the effort to fix what happened, but all he was met with was radio silence. He couldn’t blame you though. After some major reflecting and talking with Yuta and Jisung, he understands that you need some time and space to cool off.

Almost putting a wedge between you and your brother weighs heavy on his mind and heart. It wasn’t his intention to and instead nearly tearing your relationship with your brother in two, he basically tore himself and you apart instead.

For the time being, Jisung has been staying over at your apartment, worried with what might happen if you were left alone. When he brought up the idea the next morning after the blow up, you were quick to accept wanting to spend more time with him when you can.

You don’t live too far from the dorms, around eight to ten minutes, but Jisung’s manager hasn’t been too keen on having to pick him up earlier than the rest of the boys for schedules.

While he’s staying with you, you have been making sure he’s been attending his weekly therapy sessions as well. Hopefully getting him back on the right track mentally.

These two weeks Jisung feels like he’s been having to play middleman between you and Mark, even though he didn’t have to. He’s been reporting how you’ve been feeling to Mark and vice versa. Not that you were willingly asking how he was doing. Jisung still felt like it was a good idea anyway even though you’re still mad at him.

However, this self-proclaimed middleman job has only been making Jisung feel worse about coming to you that night. He didn’t originally want to, but he couldn’t keep his emotions in any longer. He didn’t know what to do or who to go to. He knew you’d never deny him but the exact fear he had before going to you came true. He missed you too much.

Jisung never wanted to put you and Mark against each other. He admires your relationship so much that he wishes one day he can have something like what you and Mark have, but right now it hurts him seeing the relationship of the two people he admires at a rough patch.

No matter how many times Jisung apologizes to Mark, the elder continuously tells him it’s okay and that he understands.

“Family comes first,” Mark would continuously assure his dongsaeng, but Jisung still didn’t feel right.

It was a slow day of schedules for the members of NCT, only things on the agenda were a recording session and a dance practice following. Jisung decided to go in early with the 127 hyungs even though he wasn’t needed until dance practice later in the afternoon. You had classes all day anyway so he would have just sat alone in your apartment all day.

The whole bunch of them were either sitting on the floor of the practice room on their phones, staying hydrated, and or going over the choreography if they were already done with their recording.

Jisung sat with Mark, Haechan, Doyoung and Johnny on the couches, waiting for their turns to go into the recording studio.

Mark’s eyebrows were knitted together typing incessantly on his phone. Not satisfied with what he typed; he then deleted the whole message. He let out a sigh of frustration, putting his phone to his side and dropping his head in his hands.

Haechan glances over at Mark’s phone screen and smirks, “Trouble in paradise still?”

Mark’s head shoots up and goes pink. He grabs his phone, locks it, and lightly shoves his best friend.

“Shut it,” Mark grumbles.

He unlocks his phone again and looks down at it, scrolling through all his unanswered messages he’s sent to you. A mess of ‘I miss you’s, ‘I love you’s, and ‘I’m sorry’s are scrawled across the screen in blue bubbles. Oh, what he would do just to see the three dots at the bottom of his screen to appear a message that contains ‘I love and miss you too’.

Mark swallowed thickly, trying to suppress the tears and the feeling of emptiness you’ve left him with the past two weeks. He’s not even sure what the status of your relationship is at this point and according to Jisung any time he attempts to bring Mark up in conversation, you shut down. Mark screwed up so bad and he misses you like hell.

Everyone around him stayed quiet. They all know the status, or lack thereof a relationship the two of you are sharing at this point.

The silence is broken by a sniffle, but not from Mark. He looks at his youngest member, the boy he has learned to love as a younger brother throughout the years, his girlfriend’s little brother, the very boy who introduced the two of you all those years ago stares back at him with starry, teary eyes and a trembling lip.

“Hyung, I’m so sorry,” Jisung chokes out.

“Hey, Jisung no. Don’t apologize. We talked about this,” Mark pleads, getting off the couch and going to sit in front of his friend.

“I know but I just feel really bad. If I didn’t knock on your door that night-“

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, okay?”

“I know but I don’t want you and y/n to be mad at each other and the reason why she’s mad at you is because of me.”

Mark swallows thickly again and puts his hands on his shoulders, “Jisung, we’ll work it out. We always do. You don’t need to keep blaming yourself.”

Jisung stayed quiet and wiped his tears and sniffled a bit. Silence struck the group again.

“Is there any way you can apologize to her without her actually knowing?” Johnny asks.

Mark turns around and looks at him puzzled, “What?”

“I mean, is there a way you can apologize indirectly where she has to listen to you? ‘Cause she’s clearly not going to listen to you directly.”

Mark, still being incredibly confused, just stares at the Chicago native as if he’s just going to magically understand what he’s saying.

Johnny looks at the other guys, “You guys know what I mean, right?”

Everyone stays quiet still confused and trying to understand what Johnny means.

“What about a song?” Jisung mumbles.

A lightbulb goes off in Mark’s head.

“That’s perfect! I can write her a song and shoot a music video! It will be perfect!” Mark exclaims. “And you guys will help me, right?” He says hopeful.

“Mark, you know we’re in the middle of promoting,” Doyoung mentions. “How are you even going to manage that? Write and record a song and record a music video for it?”

Mark visibly deflates, “I guess you’re right.”

Everyone pauses to think again.

“What about a cover and a self-made music video?” Jaehyun suggests from across the room.

All the attention whips to the 97-liner.

He then shrugs, “Next best thing.” And then continues what he was doing.

“I think we can make that work,” Mark says.

“I don’t know,” Doyoung pipes in again. “You’ll still need help and can’t do it by yourself. Plus 127 doesn’t really have the time.”

Before Mark tries to protest, Haechan butts in.

“Ever the pessimist you are, Doyoungie. Dream can help you, Morky.”

Mark internally cringes, the dreamies were not his first choice of help he was hoping for, but there isn’t really anyone else with the time to help. One of the major downsides is that he’ll never hear the end of teasing from them. However, this isn’t about them, this is his and your relationship that he’s trying to fix.

He sighs, “Okay, fine.”

Another idea pops in his mind as he gets up from the floor to make a call.

“Where are you going?” Johnny asks.

“I have to make a call,” he answers as he walks out of the practice room.

Seconds later he’s on the line exact people he knows will help him out in an instant.

“Hey Mark! What’s up?” The person on the other end of the call answers.

“Hey, Kun hyung, are you and Ten hyung busy?”

-

About a week later, the cover song is composed and recorded, the song has amazing choreography, and the Dream members gather in the main SM practice room to shoot the video.

“So, what are we doing here on our day off again?” Jaemin asks Jeno as they walked into the practice room.

“We’re helping little Marky Mark get his girlfriend back,” Jeno singsonged at him.

“Ah,” Jaemin dragged out.

When all seven the Dream members make it into the practice room, they began setting up, but unfortunately for Mark, they were doing more goofing around than actual work.

About twenty minutes go by and they have yet to accomplish anything.

“Hey, no, Haechan-ah don’t mess with that,” Mark pleaded as he tried to get the microphone out of his best friend’s hand.

“Why not? I’m fixing it,” Haechan squeals back.

“No, you’re not. Give it to me!”

In the other corner of the room Renjun and Jaemin are setting up the music but Jaemin, being the hyper Leo he is, is jumping all over Renjun for no apparent reason.

“Jaemin, get off of me and start helping!”

“But you look so cute today, Injunie!” Jaemin pinches at his cheeks, but Renjun swats at him.

Then there’s Jeno chasing Chenle around the room for reasons unknown.

Getting overwhelmed and having enough of the antics, Jisung lashes out.

“Yah! This is for my sister! MY noona! All of you need to stop screwing this up! I can’t stand seeing my sister in pain anymore and I’m sure Mark hyung can’t stand it either! Now, you are all going to help and not cause chaos! Okay?”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared wide eyed at their maknae. He slowly starts to cower in on himself the more everyone stares at him because lashing out isn’t in his character at all.

After a few more moments of silence, Chenle breaks it, “Well you heard him. Let’s get back to work.”

Not another word was uttered as they continued to set up to start shooting.

-

It’s almost midnight about a week later and you’re sitting in your room, catching up on some schoolwork that’s due within the next week.

There’s a knock at your door.

“Y/n noona. I’m going to the convenience store around the block. I’ll be home in a bit. Do you want anything?” Your brother asked through the door.

“I’m good, Jisung-ah. Thank you though,” you answer continuing to write something down in your notebook.

You hear the front door to your apartment open and close and you are left alone.

In the midst of the comfortable silence, your phone vibrates beside you, notifying someone posted on Twitter. Not thinking much of it, you place your pen down and pick up your phone.

NCT just Tweeted:

Cover | MARK - Ghost (Justin Bieber)

*YouTube link*

#NCT #NCT127 #NCTDREAM #MARK #Ghost @ justinbieber

A cover song and a music video? By Mark? You were majorly confused. Mark’s currently in the middle of promoting, how the hell did he even have the time to record a cover song with a music video?

You then wonder about the song choice. You weren’t the biggest fan of Justin, but you’d be lying to yourself if you haven’t listened to Ghost on repeat on some days when you miss Mark.

Putting your phone down and opening a new tab on your internet browser, you pull up YouTube and go to the NCT channel. You swallow thickly as your cursor hovers over the video’s thumbnail. The thumbnail picture is a close up of Mark’s sneakers you had bought him for one of your anniversaries with a black and white filter over it. This makes you start to overthink more.

Anxiousness builds inside you, but you can’t seem to place why.

Why did this feel like the reason this was posted had something to do with you?

Ghost by Justin Bieber? Why wouldn’t Jisung tell you Mark was working on this?

You click on the thumbnail.

Your hearts in your throat as the pinwheel spins connecting your web browser to the Wi-Fi. You put the video in full screen mode.

The video opens to the main SM building practice room, camera seeming to be set up in the right corner, an old-fashioned mic stand sits in the middle of the room, a black and white filter sets the mood for the video. The only sound that can be heard besides white noise is soft footsteps across the wood floors. The camera cuts to an up-close frame of the same beaten-up high-top sneakers Mark had on in the thumbnail. The camera follows his sneakers until he stops behind the mic stand.

As the camera pans up, cords of the familiar song begin to play, but there’s a different but comforting twist to the melody that you can’t seem to place.

It was just so Mark.

You barely breathe as the camera reaches his face and he begins to sing.

“Young blood thinks there’s always tomorrow.

I miss your touch on nights when I’m hollow.”

Mark’s eyes are shut, and you can feel the raw emotion pouring out of your boyfriend’s vocal cords. The music is dubbed but you can tell Mark is genuinely singing into that microphone.

“I know you crossed the bridge that I can’t follow”

Mark then looks directly into the camera as it focuses his stature. His gaze looks so broken, so remorseful.

“Since the love that you left is all that I get,

I want you to know, that if I can’t be close to you

I’ll settle for the ghost of you

I miss you more than life”

The veins in his neck were prominent and his grip on the mic stand tightens. The camera begins to pan around him as he continues.

“And if you can’t be next to me

Your memory is ecstasy

I miss you more than life

I miss you more than life”

Mark’s voice goes into the second verse, but the scene cuts and he starts dancing. You’ve had enough dance experience in your life alongside Jisung to notice the nuances of movement in the choreography had Ten written all over it, but it fit Mark insanely well. Every emotion this boy felt recently came through his movements and you can tell. What you couldn’t tell is that it this was all for you. All Mark was thinking about during this was you.

The chorus starts up again and Mark is back at the mic stand.

“If I can’t be close to you

I’ll settle for the ghost of you

I miss you more than life”

He looks dead in the camera and then there’s an overlay in the editing where there’s a clip of Mark dancing overtop of himself at the mic stand.

The whole artistry of the video is beautiful. The black and white filter over everything sets a gorgeous theme for the somber song and the remorseful look in your boyfriend’s eyes.

The only word that you have to use to describe it is beautiful.

As the last chorus begins to round out the song, the angle of the camera is dead on and Mark stares directly into it.

The deep sexy voice that comes out of your boyfriend startles you and you swear you fall in love with him all over again.

“I miss you more than life

I miss you more than life.”

The video ends and there’s a credit real that goes across the screen.

COMPOSITION BY MARK AND KUN

CHOREOGRAPHY BY TEN

VIDEOGRAPHY BY JAEMIN, RENJUN, AND HAECHAN

VIDEO EDITING BY JENO AND JAEMIN

COSTUMING BY CHENLE AND JISUNG

The pride you have for your brother swells inside of you as you read his name.

Lastly, one more frame finishes out the video.

“I miss you more than life xoxo”

reads across the screen in unmistakably Mark’s handwriting.

Taking a deep breath and wiping your hand across your face, you didn’t realize that you let tears fall.

The video was absolutely beautiful. Just like him.

Still stunned, you sit there in silence sniffling, trying to pull yourself together, until you hear the front door open.

“Jisung?” You call out as you get up out of your desk chair.

Wiping the stray tears off your face, you rush over to your bedroom door and fling it open.

However, it’s not your brother that stands before you, but the boy that just sang and danced his heart out in the music video you just watched.

You stared at him. A teary smile makes its way to your face. The first genuine smile you’ve managed to creep out in weeks.

“Justin Bieber. Seriously?” You joke.

He stands there hesitantly, “I take it that you watched the video.”

You nod as you continue to stare at each other.

“I-I know you’re not the biggest fan but-“

You walk up to him, wrap your arms around his middle, and snuggle your nose into the crook of his neck.

You whispered, “I miss you more than life too.”

Mark lets out a huge breath and wraps his arms around you pulling you in closer.

Pulling away a hair, you unwrap your arms to cup his face. A playful smile makes it way to your face, “You’re just lucky Ghost is my favorite song on that album.”

Mark chuckles and sniffles a bit, the tears gathering in his eyes fell as he blinked at you. Your thumbs trailed his prominent cheekbones wiping them away.

“Y/n, I am so truly, undeniably sorry. I know I messed up. I promise to never get in between you and your brother ever again, I just got jealous of how close you two are, I guess? I don’t know, but can you please forgive me? I can’t settle for the ghost of you, not now, not ever, please,” Mark begs.

A few beats pass, you just stare into his large hopeful eyes, falling in love with the tapioca pearls all over again.

“I love you. So much, Mark Lee,” you whisper. “I forgive you.”

“I love you so much more, baby,” he whispers back at you.

Finally, after a few long weeks, the gap between you two closes and your lips meet his again.

-

“I can’t believe you made everyone go through all that trouble just to apologize to me,” you gasped as you watched the cover video again, sitting on your bed in between boyfriend’s legs.

“You do realize you’re worth it, right?” Mark questions as he pecks your temple.

You hum in content as you snuggle closer to him.

“So, what did you offer them in return for helping you? A meal?” You sass at him turning your head to look at him.

Mark fakes offense, “What makes you think I bribed them into helping me?”

“Babe, it’s the dreamies we’re talking about, with the exception of Kun who helped you arrange the music and Ten who choreographed. You can’t get them to do anything unless you bribe them,” you laugh.

Mark chuckles, “First of all, that’s not true. I’m a fantastic leader. Second, surprisingly enough they agreed to help me pro-Bono.”

You scoffed, “How did you manage that?”

“Let’s just say, your brother gets really scary when it comes to you.”

~*~

ending a/n

wow. legit wow.

if you have made it this far, thank you so much!

i'm so surprised with myself on this one! i don't think i've written a fic longer than 2k words like ever.

i really hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

[potter-imagines]

Chosen Sister (Fred Weasley x Reader)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: I had two Ginny idolizing reader requests so this is the first one! I can't find the exact request but the other will be posted during this coming week. 

Warning: None (vv short sad part)

Word Count: 3.8k

“Give me back my girlfriend, Ginny. I heard that you’re holding her hostage.”

A loud chorus of knocks sounded out from Ginny Weasley’s dorm room. Dinner had finished an hour before and since the meal ceased, Fred had been searching the entire ground for you, his girlfriend. After about thirty minutes tracing your typical patterns and steps around Hogwarts, Fred ran into Angelina and Alicia who informed him of your whereabouts.

They happily explained to them that they saw Ginny dragging you away after dinner. The girls cooed to Fred about how adorable it was that his girlfriend hung out with his little sister, something Fred didn’t exactly view the same.

Fred Weasley checked your dorm room, the common room, the library, Hermione’s dorm, and finally Ginny’s room. As he trudged up the stone steps grounchily, his ears perked to a point at the ring of a voice that was tattooed in his heart. Your innocent, childlike giggle played like a melody in the empty stairwell.

Fred could feel the corner of his lip tugging up to a smile at the sound. That sugared chortle that he had heard millions of times before but somehow still felt his breath catch at the sound. Standing outside his little sister’s door, Fred’s annoyance was dissolving by your haromous voice echoing from the opposite side.

When Ginny failed to open her dorm up the first round of knock, Fred banged on the door again. Huffing in annoying, Ginny shot you a look, already knowing Fred was gonna scold her. She crawled off her bed and waltzed over to her door, taking her sweet time as she did. You couldn’t help the giggles that rumbled through your chest.

Swing the door open swiftly, Ginny glared at Fred with flames blazing in her eyes. If they weren’t related, he might’ve felt a hint of her wrath. But she was his little sister and not even at her angriest did Fred find her intimidating, not in the slightest.

Ginny Weasley was only thirteen yet her sass and feistiness was beyond her years. Growing up with only brothers probably played a hand. The young girl sent her brother a disgusted look then growled at him,

“I am not holding her hostage! For your information, Y/n happens to be my friend. Might sound surprising to you but she actually enjoys hanging out with me, Fred.”

Fred looked past his sister at the mention of your name. A smile lifted to his lips when he found you. You returned the gesture

“You’re right, that does sound surprising.” The snarky remark caused Ginny to furrow her face in a scowl. Lunging forward the youngest Weasley snapped for her older brother, although missed by a long shot.

“You’re infuriating, Fred!” She howled. Her face was turning red with every second that ticked by. If the situation had been different, you might’ve laughed. Getting between the Weasley siblings when they were arguing- that just wasn’t safe for anyone. Ginny’s aggravation was fuming from her pores as she sent you pleading looks to stay.

It was now that you took a look at the old wooden clock hanging on the way above her roommate's bed. The little hand was pointing to the six as the big hand was approaching eleven. The time seemed to fly by at light speed. You had promised to help Ginny hang up some lights in her room. She had wanted to decorate it just likes yours, as she practically admired anything you did. It made you feel special knowing Ginny looked up to you. You had never experienced it before so it was exciting- but also slightly pressurized- to know she was admiring you as a big sister.

Fred let out an exaggerated groan leaning against the wall next to the door.

“Can I please have my girlfriend back? You got your girl time in. Y/n promised to hangout with me tonight, so I’m rescuing her!” A cheeky wink was thrown your way as Fred walked further in the room, slowly sneaking up to you. The annoyed girl rolled her eyes then ignored her brother. She looked back at you and pursed her lips into a thin line. Ginny was too oblivious to notice his stagger but your attention remained set on him the entire time. You didn’t fight the smirk lifting to your lips as he inched closer, and closer until his feet were only steps from his sister’s back. It was then Ginny noticed the amused tint to your face but before she could bring it to light, Fred bent down in one fluid motion and gripped his hands on either side of your hips. As light as a feather he swept you up and quickly darted for the door, as to escape Ginny before she had the chance to retaliate.

“Wait- hey!” Fred slammed the large door then proceeded down the steps.

“Freddie, love, that wasn’t nice.” The giggles poured from your soul as Fred continued to carry you down the stairs, then took a sharp right, and started walking up the boy’s dormitory staircase. You rested your head against the blade of his shoulder, bobbing with every step he took. He was so handsome, even from the most unpleasant angels. His sharp features stuck out in the darkness, striking your heart. His arms cradled you while he laughed, “Oh shush, you didn’t try to stop me. Wasn’t exactly nice of you to just run off in the middle of dinner. You still have time to make it up to me, though.” The teasing arrogance didn’t go unnoticed. You laughed into the material of his sweater, clutching to his chest. The movement of his legs stopped and he softly leaned over to place you on the ground. Taking his wand out from his back pocket he unlocked his door and opened it up for you to walk in.

You stepped into the quiet room then turned to you boyfriend,

“George and Lee in?” You asked. The grin that rose to his lips was an answer enough. Fred closed the door behind him with a slam then jumped onto his bed with a flop. You watched him lay in the middle of the mattress, throwing his hands in a fold behind his head. He shrugged his shoulders and replied,

“Nope. Was there something in particular you had in mind of doing?” His mask of innocence wasn’t fooling either of you, but it was part of the fun. Keeping your eyes glued to his, you slipped the material of your robes off, leaving you in a white long sleeve button up and a small plaid skirt. You basked in the widening eyes of your boyfriend as he shifted on the comforter. His eyes raked over your body from your head down to your toes. You noticed his gaze particularly set on your exposed legs. Smirking to him you sauntered over to his bed and climbed in with him. His large hands found your bottom instantly. “I think you know, Freddie.”

Almost a week later, it happened again. Fred was scrambling around the Gryffindor common room asking every waking student if they had seen you. Most students were getting ready for dinner, some already there. George was waiting near the portrait watching curiously as his twin ran around the room from person to person. Even to George it was a bit strange no one had seen you, although as the hours dragged on he took into account the absence of his little sister also. George sighed to himself then kicked his leg into the wall, leaning back against the brick waiting patiently for Fred.

On the opposite side of the large room, the other half of the Weasley twins was talking to Lee Jordan, seeing if he had any valuable information. Lee, just like everyone else he asked, had no clue where you were. Right as his conversation with Lee was dwindling, the sigh of a curly haired girl caught Fred’s eyes and he abruptly excused himself from Lee and ran over.

As Fred reached Hermione, he gave her shoulder a line of taps,

“Hermione! Hey! Do you know where Y/n is? George said he saw you two in the courtyard this morning but I haven’t seen her all day.” Fred questioned the bright witch in a pleasing tone. She swiveled around and tilted her head to the side causing her frizzy hair to bounce like springs. Eyebrows knitted together, her lips scrunched to the side. Deep in thought she hummed to herself then answered,

“No I don’t at the moment, Fred, I’m sorry. I spent the morning with her and Ginny but I haven’t seen either of them since we left the library around lunch. That was hours ago, though. Maybe try checking Ginny’s room?” Hermione offered.

You had been studying most of the morning in the courtyard then in the library. Ginny and Hermione joined you, despite all three of you being in different years. Not that it came as much of a surprise, but Hermione helped you with your work without missing a beat. Where you were stuck for minutes, she had finished four questions ago. She was a brilliant friend to have, schoolwise and personally. You might be older than the young witch but Hermione’s advice was like no others so you loved having her around.

Fred shook his head and mumbled a ‘no’.

“That was the first place I looked. Don’t know where she is either. Did I do something? Y/n’s not upset with me is she?” The fear and worry in his voice soaked the air and Hermione gave him a gaze of bewilderment.

“What? She didn’t say anything to me about being mad at you and I’m sure she would’ve if she were. She seemed perfectly fine so I don’t think it’s that. Ginny was the one who seemed in a mood if anything.” She stated firmly. As close as the two of you were, you would have told Hermione if Fred angered you. You shared everything with her.

The towering boy nodded, eyes scanning the space behind Hermione. He was running out of places to check and people to ask. Hermione was his best bet next to Ginny and no one knew where Ginny was either which, for anyone capable of putting 2 and 2 together meant you and Ginny were more likely than not together somewhere.

“Thanks, Hermione. Let me know if you see either of them, please.” Hermione nodded and smiled kindly to Fred, then walked off to join Harry and Ron. Fred took off towards the portrait, yelling to George that he would be back shortly.

Leaving the common room Fred shut the painting behind him and made his way to the moving staircase. While standing on the middle step, he tried to think if he was a girl, where would he go? The bathroom? No, not for that long. A swim in the lake? Well, it was a few weeks out from winter so that was unlikely. Fred huffed as he hopped off the stairs on the fourth floor and walked towards the library. Passing by he noticed a group of Hufflepuff boys sitting around a table and Professor Pince shushing them furiously. He kept on past the library and made his way down a mostly empty corridor.

The clock was nearing five in the afternoon and it was definitely out of the ordinary for the two of you to go this long in one day without even passing by one another. Maybe you were in the common room. Just with his luck you would show up right when he left. As the thought seemed to be a possibility, the sudden sound of your familiar light, delicate voice, hit his ears. Halting completely, Fred peeked his head towards the staircase on his left where the noise came from.

“Y/n?” The inquiry came quietly. Fred half wondered if he had imagined it. No reply came to his question, but he did hear someone speaking again, a new voice he recognized as his little sister’s. Moving closer to the open, cobble stairwell, Fred suddenly stopped when he heard the shaky voice of his little sister and the sound of tears splashing against the hard ground.

“He doesn’t even notice me, Y/n! I’m practically invisible in his eyes… I hate it.” Ginny’s somber cries became louder as Fred stood just on the other side of the arch in the wall. He caught a small glimpse of the scene around the wall. On the bottom step, you and Ginny were sitting next to each other. Her head leaned on your shoulder as she sobbed sadly. It was a new sight- Fred was pretty sure he hadn’t seen Ginny cry since she was in diapers. Part of him wanted to beat the daylights out of whoever hurt his little sister, but he knew it would only cause more chaos for Ginny if he injected himself now. Fred was brought back to reality when your comforting tone reassured Ginny.

“Oh Ginny, don’t say that. He’s just stupid- boys are like that. I honestly don’t think he realizes what he’s doing.” Fred wondered who you were talking about. Did Ginny fancy someone? The sniffles of his sister shook the air. Her face left your shoulder as she buried it into the sleeves of her jacket. The material soaked up her salty teardrops and she forced herself to take some deep breaths in order to calm down. Just as her body stopped quivering, the thought entered her mind again and she remarked,

“He’s never gonna-”

Fred looked on in surprise as you leaned forward and pulled Ginny in for a tight hug. Your hand rubbed along her back, soothing the young girl. She rubbed her eyes constantly, the redness only worsening. Pulling away, you rubbed the drops away from under Ginny’s eyes and gave her a small smile,

“No, he will. I just think he’s got all this stuff with ‘he-who-must-not-be-named’ on his mind… but even if he doesn’t, then he’s not the one. You’re an amazing person, Ginny. Any guy would be lucky to have you but you’re too young to be heartbroken over a little boy. I don’t want you wasting your time being sad about boys when you should be having fun with me and your friends!”

“You really mean that, Y/n?” Her eyes lit in hopefulness. Ginny had quickly become a little sister of sorts to you. Seeing her upset, hurt, mad, anything, you felt it too. Although Ginny was young, only thirteen. You didn’t want her ruining herself chasing after a boy who wasn’t able to give her the time and attention she deserved. Being friends with Harry, your judgement told you that the poor boy most likely didn’t even catch onto the fact Ginny fancied him.

Chosen one? Yes. Oblivious one? Also yes.

On the other side of the wall, Fred’s heart was basically goop from the exchange. He messed with his sister, sure, but she was still his baby sister and it meant the world to him to see you, his girlfriend, so kind, and sweet to Ginny.

“I would never lie to you, Ginny.” You promised her.

“I should go wash up before dinner, I’m sure I look a mess! I’ll see you then, okay? And… thank you, Y/n. It means a lot to have you around and I don’t know, it’s cool to have you as a friend.” She reached forward and gave you one last hug. You grinned at her and said,

“Of course, Ginny. It’s cool to have you as a friend as well.”

Fred smiled to himself. He never realized just how much his sister looked up to you and it made him feel prouder than ever to call you his.

Not long later, Ginny rushed off down the staircase heading back for her dorm room. It had been hours since she’d return so it didn’t seem like the best choice to go missing for hours then show up for dinner with a blotchy face from crying. She wasn’t up for the questions and prying. You waved goodbye to her then sat for a few moments by yourself in silence. Well, at least you had assumed you were alone.

Right as your body began sinking in relaxation into the step, an entering pair of footsteps caused your eyes to snap open. Emerging from the open hallway outside the stairwell was a particular adorning red head you had grown to love so much. Fred stepped in through the arch and grinned at you. You were surprised by his presence, you had yet to see him all day, having spent most of it comforting Ginny, so you were taken aback that he was able to find you.

“Freddie! How did you find me?” You jumped up with a grin and threw your arms around Fred’s neck. His knees pulled him down from the force and his hands wrapped around your waist, accepting the embrace fully. Chuckling loudly Fred joked,

“Ah, so you were hiding from me!”

You sent him a narrowed look and pointed towards the direction where Ginny had retreated.

“No, no, I wasn’t hiding. Your sister needed me so I decided to be with her. I’m sorry, I should’ve told you-” Your apology was cut short by the feeling of Fred’s plump lips kissing yours. He kept the kiss short and sweet, just wanting to taste your lips. He went almost the whole day not seeing you so he wasn’t able to resist for much longer. You kissed him back, a bit more forcefully than Fred. His lips danced against yours, the action of snogging being second nature among you two. Fred pulled away slowly, his lips staying close to yours. Your foreheads were leaning against each other, smiles plastered on both your lips.

“That was maybe the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. You were so nice to Ginny, love. You didn’t need to do that.” He insisted in a whisper tone. Moving your forehead against his you explained,

“I wanted to, she’s my friend. I really care about her and… I don’t know, I’ve never had someone who looks up to me so, it’s kinda fun to know someone thinks I’m admirable.”

Glancing up, Fred’s eyes were already locked on yours. The warmth and homeiness of his honey pooled eyes pulled you in. Brown eyes never looked so perfect until you met Fred. Stepping up on your tiptoes, your hand secured itself along Fred’s jaw as you tugged him towards you. He parted his lips as you planted another kiss to his mouth. It was more of a peck, a tinny smooch leaving you to separate quickly. Leaning back into Fred’s arms, you basked in his hold. Never once did you ever feel exposed to danger when Fred had his arms clasped around you. It was impossible.

“That’s why I love you, you’re just perfect in every way. Everyday you find new ways to make me fall in love with you all over again...you’re too sweet, darling. Thank you for looking out for Ginny. It means a lot to me. Even if it means I have to share my time with you, which is just criminal, it does mean a lot.” His lips wasted no time scattering a mess of small, wet kisses along your face. No inch was left unkissed. You giggled wildly as he continued for a few moments. Planting one last kiss to your pursed lips, Fred stopped his attack and leaned back to smirk at you. Your laughter died out as you began to calm yourself. Smiling over to Fred, you reached for his hand and squeezed it in reassurance. “Of course, Freddie. I love you, babe.”

Lifting his hand, he rested his cheek on the skin of your hand. His face turned so he could press a faint peck to your hand, then he glanced up at you through his lashes.

“I love you too, darling. How bout we make up for all that lost time, hm?” That devilish, mischievous smirk you saw far too often had returned. Playing dumb you just chuckled,

“I was thinking the exact same thing, I was wanting some dinner too!”

“You know that wasn’t what-” You interrupted him, placing your pointer finger in the center of his lips creating a ‘shush’ gesture. He stared at you waiting for the next move. It was now you who held the bold smirk. You grasped Fred’s hand and pulled him towards the stairs so you could get to the Great Hall. His face fell in disappointment, clearly expecting a different turn of events. You didn’t leave him down for long when you batted your long lashes up at Fred and stated,

“Dinner first, then dessert after, okay?” It was the way you said it rather than the words themselves that did him in. That playful gleam that sparked in your eyes, he loved it.

Fred immediately felt his clothes, more specifically his trousers, turn tight at your words alone. He side eyed you as you skipped down the steps, unsure if you were the one teasing him now, or if you were being truthful. Narrowing his peer in seriousness, Fred tried to decipher the sickly sweet smirk on your lips. It wasn’t until you turned the tables, lifting his hand up to kiss the back of it, that he realized you weren’t joking. Eagerness took over as Fred locked his hand even more securely around yours and sped up his pace to the Great Hall. “Anything you say, love.”

He practically chased you the whole way to the dinning hall, your loud laughter filling the silence in the air. Your friends chuckled when they saw you two running in. You guys never seemed happier and it made all they ecstatic to see their friends finding love with each other. George waved the two of you over having saved a spot next to him for both of you. Fred escorted you to the opening, his hand never leaving yours even when you sat. For the rest of the meal, Fred’s hand rotated between your hand and your thigh, but never left your skin. And when Ginny sat down and smiled over at you, engaging you in conversation, Fred just squeezed your hand with a small grin, and pretended not to listen in. From then on, Fred only interrupted your hangout sessions to join in, and surprisingly, Fred Weasley was a great gossiper.

[tetsuwhore]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 | 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨, 𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚, 𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨

Description: heated makeout sessions with the boys

Warning: nsfw, dirty talk, risk of getting caught

Notes: 1.3k words. based off of my previous makeout headcanons

“C’mon. Be a good girl and lay back. Daddy’s going to take good care of you.”

It’s all involuntary - how your thighs clench together at baritone of his voice, the way you bite your bottom lip in response to his searing kisses, to the tight grip of his hands, to the filthiness of-

Your attention is torn away from the screen when you feel a warm hand snaking up your leg. Whipping your head around, you glance at your boyfriend and roll your eyes. Kuroo’s holding a straight face, and yet, his hand is busy, kneading and squeezing the softness of your thigh. 

Still, you can’t complain, not with the heat pooling at your core - it’s only made worse by the raunchy scene playing out in front of you. And you’re so close to Kuroo, comfortably nestled up into the warmth of his chest. Your gaze trails down his face, past his dark eyes and sharp cheekbones, before settling on his lips. 

“You look a little distracted, baby. Something the matter?” 

His tone is laced in mock concern as he looks at you, a playful glint in his eyes. The fucker knows. He knows exactly what you want; you’re not exactly subtle either, with how you’re hungrily eyeing his lips. Scoffing, you ignore his words, choosing to instead tilt your head up and capture his lips with yours.

It’s slow at first, languid, as your lips meld together. But it never stays that way, never with Kuroo. His teeth scrap your bottom lip, opening your mouth slightly to allow his tongue to slither in. It explores the hot cavern of your mouth before finding your own, tangling with it in a sensual motion that has you dizzy. 

One hand finds his shirt in a tight fist, while the other seeks purchase under his strong jaw. Your grip on him only tightens when you feel his lips stray away from yours as they trail along your jawline before settling in the crook of your neck. 

You can’t control the needy whines escaping your lips as his hot mouth abuses your sensitive skin, sucking and nipping and licking until you’re putty in his arms. 

But, wait, no, no, suddenly the delicious sensation stops, and he’s pulling away, and-

Settling back into his side of the couch, Kuroo snickers, “We’ve still got thirty minutes of the movie left to finish.” 

You were going to murder him. 

Frustrated, you rip away from him, a scowl on your face as you hiss, “Tetsurou, I swear to fucking god, I’m going to lock myself in the bathroom and use the goddamn showerhead.” 

His arms lock around your middle before you can take another step, coaxing you back to the couch and laying you under him. “You really think some showerhead can ever make you feel as good as I could?” Kuroo chuckles at your unamused glare, but ultimately, relents.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, princess. I’ll make it up to you,” Kuroo promises, mouthing hot kisses down your stomach. When he reaches your shorts, he grins as he looks up at you. 

“So, what do you want first - my fingers or my tongue?”

“You didn’t wake me up to say goodbye.”

Glancing up from his shoelaces, Ushijima smiles at the sight of you, a petulant pout on your face. You’re in your nightwear, hair mussed from sleep. 

He’s still panting slightly, chest heaving up and down as he watches you advance closer to where he’s seated on the couch. You, on the other hand, have your gaze locked on his sweat sheened form, eyes shamelessly following the hard lines of muscle behind his tight running shirt.

“I’m sorry. You were fast asleep, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

He groans in surprise when you climb into his lap the second he shrugs the other shoe off. Your arms swiftly snake around his neck, pulling his face in closer to yours. Ushijima’s lips ghost over your own, lightly brushing up against them in a kiss so gentle, you barely feel it. 

His large hands, now under your camisole, spay across the expanse of your hips. They’re rough, littered with callouses from years of practice. Yet, he treats you like you’re the finest china, with light touches and soft caresses. 

And you love him for it; you love the softness of his lips melding with yours; you love the tenderness of his hold. But right now, you want the other side of Ushijima. The one you knew could rough you up, ruining you over and over until you were an overstimulated mess under him. 

Rolling your hips into his bulge, you grind down, hungry for even the slightest friction. Fuck. Fuck, it’s so good - everything feels so, so good, and you can’t help yourself from moaning into his mouth, nails digging hard into the tensed hardness of his shoulders.

You squeal when you find yourself flipped onto your back, with Ushijima on top as he catches your gaze. Your breath hitches when you look up at him - his eyes have grown dark, more ravenous as they bore into your own.  

Your nerves are buzzing from the feel of his hands as they move up your skin, finally settling on your soft breasts. “Mhmm, I- ah- I m-missed you... Toshi....” you whimper. 

“I missed you too, (Y/n),” Ushijima murmurs into your neck, rough fingers pinching your nipples.

“Allow me to make up for leaving you alone this morning.”

“Kou, w-what if, ah- what if s-someone hears?!”

Your boyfriend hasn’t even begun to register your words. He can’t. Not with how busy he is with his lips attached to your throat, kissing and biting and abusing your skin. And when he reaches the nape of your neck, his teeth lightly grazing the sensitive spot that has you gasping, you’re so, so tempted to simply let him. To allow Bokuto to devour you whole. 

“Kou!” you muster up your last bit of restraint.

Pulling away slightly, Bokuto offers you a sheepish grin, “Ah, sorry, babe. I can’t help it, you’re just so pretty.”

And yet, his half-hearted apology disappears into thin air because he doesn’t waste even a second diving right back in, this time, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss. They’re a little chapped, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when his hot mouth is on you, tongue tangling with your own. 

Bokuto’s kisses are always so fiery, always so passionate, and they always have you melting right into his arms, all other thoughts pushed aside.

Even when your little makeout session happens to be in the storage closet of the Fukurodani gym. Even when you’re well-aware that the volleyball team is right outside practicing, with a mere plywood wall separating them from you two. 

And oh god, how the fuck are you supposed to keep your thoughts coherent when Bokuto’s pressing your back against the closet wall, with his muscled thigh nudged up between your legs?

His excitement is palpable, and you can practically feel it buzzing off of him as he engages you in a searing kiss. You definitely feel the enthusiastic bouncing of his thigh - Bokuto probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and yet, it’s turning you into a flushed mess. 

Tossing out all inhibitions, you grip the thick of his shoulders to support yourself as your hips move back and forth on his thigh. Your movements are practically involuntary; they’re rushed, frantic as you rut your clothed clit against the tensed muscle of his thigh, desperate for the friction. But fuck, it’s not enough, it’s not-

“Kou,” you whine, “I need m-more… please…”

“Okay, baby, okay. I hear you,” Bokuto grunts against your lips, thick fingers reaching under your skirt to thumb your panties. 

“Let’s get this out of the way then, yeah?”

[ddarker-dreams]

Contractual Obligations II. Yan Childe x Reader

Warnings: Unwanted physical contact, general yandere themes. Word count: 2.2k. →Part I. 

The sound of heavy, wooden doors shutting behind you feels like a premonition of what is to come. 

Fiddling with your skirt, your eyes dart around, taking in Liyue’s signature rich architecture. Fatui building or not, they still must abide by Liyue’s aesthetic. You thought being surrounded by your home’s design would bring solace. Warm shades of mahogany with gold motifs are illuminated by paper lanterns, giving a glow that would be otherwise pleasant, if not for the circumstances. 

You had anticipated a long wait. Ekaterina, upon hearing your name, informed that you would be seen without delay. The others in the lobby of Northland Bank grumbled at this, much to your embarrassment. It’s no secret that getting appointments here is a time-consuming endeavor. Sailors, business owners, and Qixing’s personal assistants alike had to wait. 

For whatever reason, you were allowed to skip ahead of the queue. The glaring special treatment is bound to spread rumors. Now, here you stand, unable to quell your nerves. This is no different than strolling into a ravenous lion’s den. The vulnerability you feel now makes you wish you were facing a carnivorous beast, at least then you might have hope to defend yourself. 

Even with the unexpected privilege of not waiting in the lobby, you’ve been standing here in this private room for a while now. Thirty minutes is your guess, impatience creeping up on you. Your shoulders slump, a sigh leaving your lips. There’s lots of work to be done when you’re done here, time a precious resource. Wasting it to get answers from the blight on your life is infuriating. 

Figures, the one time you need to speak with Childe, he’s nowhere to be seen. Every other time he’d show up at the least opportune moments. He has a habit of appearing uninvited and ruining what would’ve been a pleasant day. Lost in thought, you consider all that must be done when you return to your parent’s shop, too occupied with your thoughts to notice a looming figure. Two hands go out to cover your eyes, the world suddenly going dark. Heart pounding against your chest, the touch is too unexpected, heat rising in your body as protection.

“Guess who?” Childe hums into your ear with a singsong tone. His scent reminds you of the ocean, fresh and light. 

You frown, noticing how close he is to you, his chest pressed against your back. Does Childe not know what personal space is? “The source of my problems.” 

He lets out a scandalized gasp and slinks in front of you. Childe boasts a lighthearted demeanor, mirth dancing in his eyes, and a tight-lipped smile on his face. Inauthentic as ever, you note. You’ve seen what lays dormant behind the thin veil of boyish charm. The infinite darkness that you never wish to see again. He’s still closer to your person than you’d prefer, but pointing it out won’t do any good, so you decide to overlook it. Picking your battles wisely is vital when speaking with Childe.

“Is that the greeting I get, after rushing all the way here?” Childe sighs. Before you could respond, you notice a new scent in the air, unmistakably leather. It takes you a moment to identify the source. A thin, wispy trail of smoke rises from Childe’s leather gloves that had been touching you just prior. Does that not hurt? Childe catches you staring and laughs. 

“So you didn’t notice,” Childe sounds amused, lifting his hands to inspect them. Raising his hands to his mouth, he bites the tip of his gloves and pulls them off. “Looks like I caught you.” 

He nods to your necklace which is tucked beneath your blouse, scarlet light shining through the fabric. Instinctually, you cover it with your hand, the jewel warm to the touch. Childe’s abrupt physical touch had activated your Vision. It’s only when you take a few deep breaths that the telling glow fades away, but the damage is already done. Did he plan this on purpose? Whatever the case may be, Childe is the last person you want having this information.

Sensing your apprehension, he speaks up. “Relax, I already assumed as much, but my interest is undeniably piqued. Why hide your Vision? This isn’t Inazuma, I was under the impression Visions were revered in Liyue.” 

You don’t owe Childe an explanation, but your intuition tells you he’s not going to let this go anytime soon. This isn’t what you came here for, you remind yourself. Don’t let him distract you.

“It’s a long story,” comes your dismissive answer, glancing around to see if anyone else had seen, even though it’s only you two in here. “Can I talk about what I came here for, please?” 

Childe closes his eyes, humming while considering your proposition. Instead of walking behind the desk in the room, he sits on a bench against the wall, motioning for you to come over. At your blatant hesitation, he decides to pester you, which doesn’t come as a shock. 

“What’s up with that look? There’s plenty of room,” Childe pats the spot next to him for extra emphasis. A dangerous twinkle shines in his eyes with a mischievous smile to match it. “Though, I wouldn’t complain should you come to sit on my lap instead.” 

Your cheeks flush brightly, a weak glare being sent his way which he laughs at. “I would never…” 

“Sure, sure. Come over already, it’s the least you could do, considering you just scorched a pair of my favorite gloves.” Childe’s carefree tone doesn’t match his scolding words, stretching out his arm on the back of where you were supposed to sit. Gingerly stepping over the smoking gloves on the floor, you wonder if it’s somehow a fire hazard, but assume Childe’s Hydro Vision could put it out if need be. You stop just short of sitting down, gnawing on your bottom lip at this new internal dilemma. Glaring daggers at his outstretched arm doesn’t seem to faze him. 

“The offer still stands.” He teases, leading you to huff and take your seat by him. You try to ignore the close physical proximity, but it’s rather difficult, as your thighs are touching. Is this a common theme for Snezhnayans? Why is Childe so needlessly touchy? Maybe you don’t want to know. Childe drums his fingers, staring at you with dangerous intent. 

You’ve wasted enough time here. Hoping to move on to the pressing issue, your lips part without further delay. “So, as I was--”

Childe places a finger to your lips, in an act that leaves you speechless. What is his problem? Furrowing your eyebrows together, you have half a mind to scorch the finger in front of you, but dismiss the thought when remembering his strength. Damn him for getting you riled up with such ease. 

“Uh uh uh,” Childe chastises with a shake of his head. “Not yet. Business can come later. First, you’re going to tell me about that.” 

You don’t need to look down to see he’s pointing at your hidden necklace. “It’s... personal. I have no reason to tell you.” 

“Oh, sweet [First]. I wasn’t asking. You did just burn my gloves, didn’t you? Instead of charging you Mora, which -- no offense -- you don’t have enough of to replace it, I want an explanation. I think that’s a fair deal.” 

So he is going to hold that mishap over you. Messing around with a debt collector and money seems counterintuitive, giving a quick explanation the plausible option. Whatever it takes to get him to drop the sensitive topic. Childe must have a semblance of tact to have made it this far in life after all. 

“Fine, fine. It’s not really that remarkable a reason. I have a younger sister, Chunghua. We used to be inseparable as kids. More than anything, I just wanted her to be happy. You’d do anything to accomplish that, y’know? It was… all my fault, really. She wanted a Vision like mine more than anything -- hair accessories, Mora, pretty outfits -- she never cared for that. 

I had no idea why I was given a Vision and not her. She was the one who prayed to every Archon at night for it, the one who burnt incense and gave offerings, not me. I could see her gradually losing hope every day that she woke up without one, like a piece of her was breaking off. At meals, she’d just… stare, silently, at the Vision around my neck. I don’t blame her for starting to hate me. I didn’t notice until it was too late.”

Taking a deep breath, your eyes fall to your lap. “I only wanted to cheer her up. To see her smile like she used to. When I first got my Vision, Chunghua would ask me to do these little tricks. Forming animals or whatever, stuff kids like. Anyways… I tried doing it again one morning. Needless to say, it didn’t go well, she practically screeched at me. I had no idea that was how she felt. But, yeah. That’s why I hide my Vision. See, not that interesting, right?” 

Childe’s expression feels impossible to read. You’re not sure why you even shared so much, especially with him, but his lack of interruption made you keep going. Maybe you weren’t expecting him to sit perfectly still and listen to every word. Whatever the case, you clear your throat, desperate to clear the gloomy atmosphere. 

“She would’ve reacted the same eventually,” Childe says after a moment of deliberation. You tilt your head, the serious answer was unexpected. “That’s what I think, though only older siblings could understand.”

There’s a brief tenderness in his words that leaves you speechless. If he’s acting, you have to commend his abilities, because right now it almost feels like he’s being genuine. Playing with a strand of your hair, you look past him and clear your throat.

“Yes, well, I suppose you’re right.” 

Childe’s somber appearance twists into a more impish visage. “Why don’t I give Chunghua a talking to? It’s a shame seeing your cute face so sullen.” 

Mortified, you shake your head. “There’s no need for that.” 

“Hmm… a shame. I could really take care of everything if you just let me.” 

“Somehow I doubt that,” you shrug with a frown. “What you could help me with is this ridiculous situation at the shop! Why are there Fatui guards outside the front doors? It’s scaring away customers.” 

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” 

Unbelievable. Childe continues to test your patience at every turn. After your previous conversation outside Liyue, which you’re still hoping was a bad joke, you’d noticed an increased presence of Fatui around the shopping district. That was bad enough for business. Now that they’re stationed right outside your parent’s shop, it’s far worse. Rumors have begun to circulate that you’re somehow involved with the Fatui. This has Childe’s doing written all over it.

“Why else would I be here?” 

He smiles and you immediately regret the rhetorical question. “Because you missed me, of course.” 

“I missed when there weren’t Fatui around the shop. Please, I don’t know what you did, but it’s going to be harder to get money for...” you gulp as if saying it cements the reality of your situation, but power through. “Paying off the loan with this drop in revenue.”

“Tempting as that is, I’m already happy with the results. I got you to come to me and learned more about you. From my position, this is a sizeable gain.” 

Everything from your head to your toes feels hot as if molten lava is stirring inside. He’s not taking you seriously, like the time at the stream and all the times before that. Memories flash in your mind. Your father hunched over letters containing bills, frowning, hair going greyer by the day. Your mother, sneaking out when she thinks you and your sister are asleep to pawn off her old jewelry. Even Chunghua, who offered to take time away from her education to help at the shop. It hits you like a pile of bricks, heart twisting painfully and tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

“What do I have to do,” Your voice is so low that Childe has to careen his head to hear it. He blinks, incredulous, waiting for further clarification. Each breath you take feels like a losing battle, your composure threatening to shatter. “For you to stop… whatever this is. I’ll do anything. Give anything. Please, just leave my family out of it.” 

Childe crosses his legs and leans in closer to you, arm secured tight around your shoulder.

“Didn’t I tell you already?” 

His breath is warm against you, lips ghosting over the skin of your neck. He presses his lips softly against your pulse. Smiling, he notices how it quickens underneath his touch, all too pleased with your physical reactions. 

“That what I want to take is you.” 

[sambvcks]

crawl home to her, b.b. x reader

chapter one // body’s working on empty

summary: bucky isn’t as receptive to this new life of his as everyone had hoped. he’s cold, sharp-tongued, and closed off. except to the tenant across the hallway from him, who always wears pajamas and bakes a dozen too many of his favorite cookies

warnings: food, nothing too bad this chapter!

word count: 1.5k-ish

author’s note: i thought my marvel phase ended five years ago...here we are again. i haven’t written in awhile so please be kind! title and chapter titles taken from hozier’s ‘work song’.

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[ NEXT ]

Five minutes into their first session, Bucky decided he was going to make Dr. Raynor’s job as difficult as he possibly could.

It wouldn’t be an impossible task, seeing how this whole ordeal depended on him opening up and talking, two things that he had abandoned decades ago. Her unwavering stare was nothing more than a challenge, these fifty-minute sessions once a week were nothing more than a slight inconvenience to his lackluster day to day routine. He would play along, do whatever exercises she asked, and feign stability until he never had to see her again.

“Since this is our first session together, we’ll take it easy.” She promised with a forced upturn of her lips before whipping out her notebook.

Suddenly, it felt like he was encased in bulletproof glass in Berlin again. He remembered that the last time he had been forced into receiving psychiatric help, it hadn’t exactly gone to plan. His chin fell to his chest, hands wringing together as he thought of any excuse to request a different doctor. 

“Let’s begin.”

It was already getting too hot to wear leather gloves and his heavy jacket. New York’s heatwave was supposed to be the highest on record this year and while kids popped open fire hydrants in the street, Bucky would be settled on the hardwood floor in the back corner of his apartment, waiting.

Waiting for what, he wasn’t quite sure.

It was a fairly nice apartment, newly renovated and practically barren. Government issued and funded, of course, and he had spent the first night pulling the furniture from the walls to the center of the room in search of bugs and cameras. He found thirty-four, destroyed them under a rolling pin, and they hadn’t come to replace them. Message received.

The one thing he really liked about the apartment building were his neighbors. The price tag for a one bedroom was substantial to say the least and only older couples could really afford it. No children, no dogs, no outsiders. The only break from his undisturbed routine would be occasionally helping Mrs. Johnson down the hall carry her groceries as she struggled to get the door unlocked with her brittle hands.

They affectionately called him James and the older women were quick to get a hold of his arms, saying things like “They don’t make them like you anymore, James!”. He swallowed the bile prickling at the back of his throat as he nodded, and they moved on to telling him about their single granddaughters.

It was almost nice, his routine. Almost.

Outside of those small encounters, he spent most of his waking hours jogging in the park and cooking the same three meals. He had his appointment every Wednesday with Dr. Raynor, but that was it. He’d take two trains back to his apartment and wouldn’t emerge again until he needed groceries two days later.

It was when he was returning from one of his biweekly grocery trips, a paper bag settled on his hips, that he spotted you outside his door.

He stilled in the hallway, taking a quick step back to peek around the corner without being spotted. His breath stalled, his ears picking up your soft humming and the crinkle of plastic as you set a bundle of cookies at his doorstep, the only one without a mat. His eyes flicked to the other doors, where identical bags of cookies sat propped up, tied with blood red ribbons.

His shoulders relaxed. No threat.

The bottom of his grocery bag suddenly gave way, fruit rolling in every direction. Bucky fell to his knees, glove clad hands snatching up everything he could reach as quickly as he could manage. You were faster, though, and scooped up a plum that had rolled your way, offering it over as he tried to balance the rest of his groceries in his arms.

“Thanks.” He was quick to sweep past you, hand digging in his pockets for his key.

“James, right? Ms. Robinson downstairs is like, in love with you.”

“Yeah, but, uh-“ Dr. Raynor’s instructions from their last session rang in his head, as much as he tried to tune her out: make connections. “You can call me Bucky.” He cleared his throat. “And Mrs. Robinson is far too good for me.”

“Bucky it is then.” You trailed him down the hallway, “Y/N.”

Bucky tried to sneak a glance at you from the corner of his eyes, which was harder to inconspicuously do now that he had gotten a haircut and couldn’t hide his wandering eyes behind long tresses. Young was Bucky’s first thought. much younger than the other renters in the building. Bright was next, followed by much too smiley for a Tuesday morning.

Pretty, he admitted as he turned his back to unlock his door. Maybe in another life he would have lingered in the hall, his so-called effortless charm seeping through as you swooned at the very thought of a date with James Buchanan Barnes. But that life was long gone, and instead he rushed to retreat.

“Oh, don’t forget these.” You swooped down to collect the bundle of cookies you had left at his door, handing them to the hand that wasn’t delicately balancing the pile of groceries he still held against his impossibly broad shoulders. “Oatmeal raisin, super-secret family recipe.”

He was back in the doorway of his ma’s kitchen, watching his little sister balance on a wobbling stool as she struggled to crack and egg with her little fingers. He can so distinctly see the pale green of the cabinets, remember the fight his parents had when she begged for that shade of green while his dad had wanted white. Of course, she won.

“These are your brother’s favorite.” His ma whispered to his sister; her flour covered hands reaching for the age faded index card with their grandmother’s script detailing the ingredients. “Our family’s recipe. One day, you will make these for your children. And your children’s children.”

Rebecca, still so young and with a hatred for smelly boys deep in her bones, giggled at the mere thought as her fingers fished out the bits of eggshell that snuck their way into the bowl. She wiped it away on the spare apron tied twice around her waist, much too big for her. 

Bucky would never see her grow into it. He would be drafted only a few months later.

In the meantime, he would bundle half a dozen of them in a tea towel and split them with Steve on the walk to the movie theater. Steve would begrudgingly admit that Buck’s ma made the best cookies, but his made the best brisket. They’d sneak in through the back door and do it all again the next weekend, until they ran out of weekends together.

“Oatmeal raisin are my favorite.” He admitted, accepting your offering like a stray cat does to the first scrap of food from a stranger.

“I think you’re the only person under the age on one hundred to ever say that.” You teased, backing away to the door adjacent to his, “Anyway, don’t tell me things like that. I’m a stress baker and with finals coming up…” You winced at the image of the dozens of batches you would surely be whipping up in the coming weeks.

“Finals?”

“Law school, one semester left.” You fished your own keys from your back pocket. Bucky barely held in the scoff at the shiny Spider-Man keychain that dangled from your fingers. “You?”

“Oh, no. I haven’t been in school in what feels like…a century.”

“Well, I’m all alone here and as much as I would love to, I can’t eat everything that I bake. So, expect a few dozen muffins and cookies every few days.”

“No arguing from me, doll.”

You both lingered in the small hallway, only a few steps apart, each leaning against your respective doors. Keys in each hand, with no intention of using them any time soon.

“Law school, you said? How do you afford a place like this?” Bucky was sure he was the only recently pardoned fugitive under this room.

“Well, this used to be my grandma’s apartment and it was handed down to me in a maybe no so legal way. If the landlord asks, I’m an eighty-year-old woman who doesn’t know how to work her answering machine.”

He huffed a laugh, mostly because that wasn’t particularly far from how he felt with today’s tech. The flip phone that Dr. Raynor had described as archaic sat heavy in his back pocket with only three names programed into his contacts. Don’t get him started on his television.

“Nice to meet you, Bucky.”

With that, you each stepping into your respective apartments. Bucky stalled at his door for a moment, listening as you locked and dead bolted your door behind you. He sighed, dumping his half-ruined groceries on his barren kitchen island.

The next day, he’d have another appointment with Dr. Raynor. This time when he’d say I’m trying, as he did each week, it wouldn’t be a complete lie. His phone buzzed in his back pocket.

2 New Messages

From: Sam

You coming up this weekend?

Don’t ignore me this time. He’s getting worse, Buck.

[headheartbellarke]

DISTRACTED | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anon: “5 times reader (girlfriend) is almost distracted by a shirtless Charlie and one time she actually is.” PAIRING(s): Charlie Gillespie x fem!reader WORDS: 1.6k WARNING(s): some charlie thirst, what’s new ;) SUMMARY: 4 times Y/N is almost distracted by her shirtless boyfriend and 1 time she actually is.

0.

You pride yourself over the fact that you never get distracted, no matter what. But sometimes, just sometimes, you can’t help it.

Especially when your boyfriend looks like that.

1.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. Your eyes feel as if they are burning, and the ever-persistent headache of yours seems to be particularly intense today.

Yet, pushing all that tiredness away, you keep typing, typing, typing. The deadline for your essay that carries twenty per cent of your grade of your final year of college is tomorrow, and you’ve still got three hundred words to write.

Three hundred words does not seem like a lot on any other day, but after three cups of coffee and seven hours of staring at your laptop screen, it feels like death. The fact that you seem to be in a rut right now doesn’t help, either.

You scrounge around your brain, trying to pull ideas from each fold, but it’s useless. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or maybe it’s because of your boyfriend, Charlie, who has currently resorted to painting your toenails after not getting any sort of attention from you for the past few hours.

Ever since lockdown started, you and your boyfriend have been living together in your shared apartment in Toronto. You two have been planning to move in together for a while, but his work and your college always seemed to be obstacles. But this lockdown gave you both the perfect opportunity – plus, it was time, too. You two have been dating for more than four years – although, you’ve had a crush on him for as long as you can remember, but the intensity of it was realized only in the moment when he kissed you after an amazing prom together – you guys went together because you were best friends and loved being around each other more than anything. But the fact that there could be something more, something hidden in years of friendship seemed unlikely to the both of you before that day.

“Done.” He says, proudly. Your eyes leave your screen to look at the beautiful emerald colour on your toenails. You smile at him, and say, “That’s gorgeous, Char. Where’d you find it?”

He shrugs, a lopsided smile on his face. “It was in the bottom of your bag.”

You nod. “Right. I bought it the day before my last offline exam ended. I forgot.”

He smiles. “Now, will you pay me some attention?”

You purse your lips and pretend to be thinking. “Hmm… tempting, but no. I still have to get this done.”

He groans, dramatically. “You have been ignoring me for past hundred hours!”

You chuckle, ruffling his hair. “You’re so dramatic. It’s only been half a day. Now, go away. I need to finish this.”

He groans, again, and you wonder if he’s finally given up.

Instead, he rolls off the bed, and stands taller, leaning against the doorframe. “Y/N?”

You hum in question, as he makes a show out of taking off his T-shirt.

You bite your lip and remember how long it has been since you’ve run your hands on his chest. But you know that he’s doing this on purpose, to get a fraction of your attention. He knows and is proud of the fact that he has a hold over you, and the fact that even after four years, he still gives you butterflies over the slightest of smiles.

So, instead of giving in, you crawl under your covers with your laptop and decide to work there, as you suddenly gain inspiration, and thank yourself for not being distracted by your boyfriend’s absolutely beautiful body.

“Oh, come on!”

2.

The second time hit happens, it’s a Tuesday morning, and you’re giving an exam. Your laptop is in front of you, the face of your teacher and classmates filling your screen, as the sound of your pen scratching against your answer sheet fills the room.  

You bite the end of your pen, pondering over a question when you suddenly hear your boyfriend’s voice. You look up, and notice him, shirtless, and talking on the phone to someone.

“Yeah, I mean, we could do that…” He says, and your eyes trail across his back, as he stares out the window on the wall opposite to you.

“No, Mom, we’re not gonna drive to Canada. I’m not that crazy!” He exclaims, and you arch your neck to get a better view of him, and the sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“Sure, I can ask Y/N…” He says, and you quickly avert your eyes back to your paper, just in time to hear your teacher call out your name.

“Y/N? What are you looking at?” She asks, and you adjust your headphones, clearing your throat.

“I thought someone was at the door. Sorry, Ms. Harrington.” You’re painfully aware of the warmth spreading through your cheeks, and as she nods, you start writing again.

You hear Charlie whisper a ‘sorry’, and you smile at him – he thinks that the reason your teacher just called you out is because he was going to ask you something.

You don’t correct him – his ego doesn’t need to know the fact that you were almost distracted.

3.

Just one more question, you think. One more question, and you’re done with this semester.

But your mind is wandering, and the fact that you still have thirty minutes left doesn’t help. When this exam started, you thought that you wouldn’t be able to finish it in time and wrote as fast as you could, but now there’s plenty of time and just one, tiny answer left.

You rest your elbows on your desk and check on your classmates. Everyone is frantically scribbling, and you smile evilly at the fact that you’re not one of them right now.

“Honey? You have a minute?”

You hear Charlie from behind you. You nod, and say, “I’m listening.” You don’t turn back, since you have to keep an eye on your teacher. (She is knitting right now, for some reason.)

“You wanna go somewhere for the holidays?” He says, his raspy morning voice causing goosebumps to appear on your skin.

“I’m not sure… I mean we just came back from Maui last month – do you think it’s wise to go somewhere again?”

“Well, we’ll maintain social distancing, and use masks.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Come on, it’s our fifth anniversary!”

You finally look at him, and your breath catches in your throat. He’s shirtless, as usual. You mentally curse him as you think that you need to add ‘no being shirtless for no reason’ to your household rules. (Currently, you have three: one, no disturbing the other while working; two, following the chore chart; three, no spilling coffee or red wine on the white living room rug.) (The last one has occurred more times than one might expect.)

You focus on keeping your eyes trained on his, but you still struggle to form words. “I – not a wise idea…”

He grins, understanding the situation, as you avert your eyes back to your paper.

“Please, baby?”

You know he’s pouting.

“Fine.” You say, just to get him off your back.

“You’re the best!” He presses a kiss to your cheek and is instantly gone. As your mind still tries to hold on to the frayed strings of the warmth and the smell of his presence, you pray that your classmates didn’t notice the interaction.

4.

You smile at Charlie’s mother, who is talking animatedly on your phone.

“Then, I told Meg to get some sugar, but she bought salt instead, and to top that, she dumped the entire bowl into my batter! Now, it tastes like absolute shit!” She glares at Megan, Charlie’s sister, who smiles sheepishly from behind her.

You laugh. “Like brother, like sister.”

“You know it.” She says, her French accent thick.

“So, I was thinking… Maybe, after the holidays, we could fly back to Dieppe? It’s not like we’re gonna go to college any time soon, so –”

“Yes, please! I miss you guys so much. You know, last night –”

She starts to say something else, but your boyfriend is doing push ups in front of you, and it’s really, really, really hard to focus, especially when his body is glistening under the afternoon sun.

He seems to feel your gaze, and sharply turns towards you, while you quickly look back to his mother.

“–but the point is, I miss you two.” She finishes, while Megan nods. “Me too, sis. It’s so boring here without you two.”

You smile and can feel warmth in your stomach. “Of course. I miss you guys, too. Charlie’s so boring.”

“Hey!”

+1.

You exhale and close the lid of your laptop. “I’m done!” You yell, and Charlie instantly appears at the door, and runs towards the bed you’re currently seated on, and jumps atop.

“Finally! I missed you!” He says, wrapping an arm around your torso, pulling you closer.

“I missed you too, baby. But now I’m done with all my assignments, so I’m all yours for the next two weeks!” You sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He grins, and your eyes avert to his chest, but this time, you let yourself be distracted, because after weeks of sleep deprivation and pure torture, you deserve this.

You smile, connecting your lips, and run your hands on his chest. He smiles against the kiss, and you whisper, “I love you so much.”

“And I love you so much.”

as always feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[jackoshadows]

what i don’t understand is sansa stans who insist that she learnt from the best (cersei ans littlefinger) and so she’ll be an amazing ruler and player. first of all, when did she learn about the game from cersei? she was a hostage in kings landing, she wasn’t sitting in on small council meetings or anything and cersei definitely wasn’t telling her about all the moves she was making. the only time cersei really gives her ‘advice’ is during blackwater when she says that ‘tears/sex is a woman’s weapon’. regardless, cersei isn’t someone you want to be taught from, she makes terrible decision after terrible decision in affc. (since we’re on this topic, dany is the younger and more beautiful queen who foils cersei).

as for littlefinger, he’s definitely not a leader or ruler. he subtly manipulates things here and there and gets away with a lot of it because he stays under the radar. he’s not someone who inspires devotion for sure. nothing about the vale arc in affc puts sansa in an actual leadership position.

I agree it's best that no one learns how to be a ruler from Cersei Lannister, considering how much she messes up in AFfC.

And yes, it’s my opinion that Sansa's arc is leading towards outwitting Littlefinger and understanding how to play the game rather than ruling. And with two books left to go, she still has a lot of learning to do and being able to process the information available to her, analyze it and connect the dots and use the data to her advantage.

I just finished my ADwD and TWoW sample chapter re-reads so a rather long essay under the cut.

Sansa did acknowledge early on that unlike Cersei, if she were to become queen, she would prioritize getting the people's love over their fear - like the Tyrells did. But unlike the majority opinion of fandom, I think that this points to Sansa giving more importance to PR than to actual ruling. That it was better to be a loved monarch than a feared one.

It’s funny that Sansa stans often point the finger at Dany as being narcissistic, entitled and arrogant, when the few comments that Sansa makes about being queen revolve around her.

“Go ahead, call me all the names you want,” Sansa said airily. “You won’t dare when I’m married to Joffrey. You’ll have to bow to me and call me Your Grace. ” - Sansa, AGoT

“ If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me.”  - Sansa, ACoK

Compare her quotes to those of current leaders/rulers in the books:

A good lord protects his people, he reminded himself. - Bran, ACoK

“Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves?“ - Daenerys, ASoS

“And I know that a king protects his people, or he is no king at all.” Davos, ASoS

I was trying to win the throne to save the kingdom, when I should have been trying to save the kingdom to win the throne."  - Stannis, ASoS

“I am the shield that guards the realms of men. Those are the words. So tell me, my lord— what are these wildlings, if not men?”  - Jon Snow, ADwD

The other leaders in the quotes are putting the people first, prioritizing the people’s needs first no matter how much it affects the rulers themselves. Jon’s decision to let the Wildlings through the wall is necessary, but highly unpopular among his men. And ruling is more than just being beloved by the people -

"Allow me to give my lord one last piece of counsel,” the old man had said, “the same council that I one gave my brother when we parted for the last time. He was three-and-thirty when the Great Council chose him to mount the Iron Throne. A man grown with sons of his own, yet in some ways still a boy. Egg had an innocence to him, a sweetness we all loved. Kill the boy within you, I told him the day I took the ship for the Wall. It takes a man to rule. An Aegon, not an Egg. Kill boy and let the man be born.” The old man felt Jon’s face. “You are half the age that Egg was, and your own burden is a crueler one, I fear. You will have little joy of your command, but I think you have the strength in you to do the things that must be done. Kill the boy, Jon Snow. Winter is almost upon us. Kill the boy and let the man be born.” - Jon Snow, ADwD

This is the hard part of ruling be it in the middle ages or now. It’s not enough to be a good man to be an effective ruler. It’s complicated and it’s hard.  How do I resolve this thing? Do I do the moral thing? But what about  the political consequences of the moral thing? Do I do the pragmatic, cynical thing and kind of screw the people who are screwed by it? I mean, it is HARD. - GRRM

In this context, Sansa’s quote about being queen comes off as naive, ignorant, fairy taleish, like the queens in her stories - where everyone loves the queens and that’s all that’s necessary to be one.

It’s easy for Sansa stans to nitpick and criticize each and every one of Dany’s decisions and then praise future best queen Sansa - who has done absolutely nothing as a leader and has instead thus far served as an uncritical narrator to events around her. We don’t know what kind of leader Sansa would be because she has never been put in those situations or even shown an aptitude for strategic thinking.

Let me use an example I came across while recently re-reading ADwD and TWoW sample chapters. TWoW spoilers - if you don’t want to be spoiled on TWoW, please read no further.

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In ADwD, Jon is confronted with food shortage if they let the Wildlings through the wall:

“If we had sufficient coin, we could buy food from the south and bring it in by ship,” the Lord Steward said. We could, thought Jon, if we had the gold, and someone willing to sell us food. Both of those were lacking. Our best hope may be the Eyrie. The Vale of Arryn was famously fertile and had gone untouched during the fighting. - Jon Snow, ADwD

I have already written extensively on Jon’s political know-how of the North and using it in his strategizing and planning of Stannis’ campaign. But here we see that his knowledge extends to the south, where, knowing that the Vale stayed neutral during the WOT5K and it’s geography of being fertile, he sees it as a possible source to buy food for the Wall.

Now let’s go to the Vale in book 6, TWoW, Alayne’s sample chapter. After being called a bastard by Harry the Heir, a hurt Sansa goes looking for Littlefinger and chances upon a scheme of price gouging:

Near the bottom, she heard Lord  Grafton’s booming voice, and followed.

“The  merchants are clamoring to buy and the lords are clamoring to sell,”  the Gulltowner was saying when she found them. Though not a tall man, Grafton was wide, with thick arms and shoulders.  His hair was a dirty blond mop.  “How am I to stop that, my lord?”

“Post guardsmen on the docks. If need be, seize the ships. How does not matter, so long as no food leaves the Vale”

“These prices, though,” protested fat Lord Belmore,” 

“These prices are more than fair. Wait. If need be, buy the food yourself and keep it stored. Winter is coming. Prices must go higher.”

“Perhaps,”  said Belmore, doubtfully. “Bronze Yohn will not wait, ” Grafton complained. “He need not ship through Gulltown, he has his own ports. Whilst we are hoarding our harvest, Royce and the other Lords Declarant will turn theirs into silver, you may be sure of that.”

“Let  us hope so,”  said Petyr. “When their granaries are empty, they will  need every scrap of that silver to buy sustenance from us. And now if  you will excuse me, my lord, it would seem my daughter has need of me.”

“Lady Alayne,” Lord Grafton said. “You look bright-eyed this morning.” ” You  are kind to say so, my lord. Father, I am sorry to disturb you, but I  thought you would want to know that the Waynwoods have arrived.”

We are now in book 6 territory, this would be the point where a future queen/leader Sansa reflects on what she just saw - Littlefinger is hoarding grain and letting Royce and others sell theirs so that he can later increase the prices for demand from a starving populace and have the rest of the Vale Lords be dependent on him and with winter coming, there is currently much demand for the grain.

This would be where, if GRRM is writing for the future leader of the North, Sansa would wonder what is happening in the North with respect to the food situation since she just heard that merchants are clamoring for grain and winter is coming. Or she would think on LF’s scheme - is it a good plan or a bad plan? Does she think that Yohn Royce is right to sell his grain? What is her view on hoarding all the food for price gouging while people possibly starve elsewhere? What does she think of starving the populace for profit? Does she approve? Or does she think it’s ethically wrong?

We get no answers to these questions to give us a hint of what kind of ruler future best queen Sansa will be. It’s a blank slate because while Sansa acts as a narrator here and describes one of LF’s little schemes, she herself as no opinion on it. Instead Sansa’s immediate concern when speaking to Littlefinger is that Harry the Heir called her a bastard in front of everyone. Meanwhile Dany in ADwD:

Skahaz had been named Warden of the River, with charge of all the ferries, dredges, and irrigation ditches along the Skahazadhan for fifty leagues, but the Shavepate had refused that ancient and honorable office, as Hizdahr called it, preferring to retire to the modest pyramid of Kandaq.

Mounted men were of more use in open fields and hills than in the narrow streets and alleys of the city. Beyond Meereen's walls of many-colored brick, Dany's rule was tenuous at best. Thousands of slaves still toiled on vast estates in the hills, growing wheat and olives, herding sheep and goats, and mining salt and copper. Meereen's storehouses held ample supplies of grain, oil, olives, dried fruit, and salted meat, but the stores were dwindling. So Dany had dispatched her tiny khalasar to subdue the hinterlands, under the command of her three bloodriders, whilst Brown Ben Plumm took his Second Sons south to guard against Yunkish incursions.

The most crucial task of all she had entrusted to Daario Naharis, glib-tongued Daario with his gold tooth and trident beard, smiling his wicked smile through purple whiskers. Beyond the eastern hills was a range of rounded sandstone mountains, the Khyzai Pass, and Lhazar. If Daario could convince the Lhazarene to reopen the overland trade routes, grains could be brought down the river or over the hills at need …

The sea provides all the salt that Qarth requires, but I would gladly take as many olives as you cared to sell me. Olive oil as well."

"I have none to offer. The slavers burned the trees." Olives had been grown along the shores of Slaver's Bay for centuries; but the Meereenese had put their ancient groves to the torch as Dany's host advanced on them, leaving her to cross a blackened wasteland. "We are replanting, but it takes seven years before an olive tree begins to bear, and thirty years before it can truly be called productive. What of copper?"

Sansa does not come anywhere close to Dany and Jon in terms of leadership and that she’s so often pushed as this future queen in fandom, including by bnfs and so called asoiaf experts, is baffling, frustrating and hilarious.

What, if any, attributes does Sansa have to even be a peacetime ruler? After the war means rebuilding from scratch, making deals, hard bargaining, strategizing, using political tools, rebuilding the economy for war torn lands, get in the food, grow the food - precisely the kind of thing Dany is doing in Meereen. Or Jon thinking of building green houses in the Gift to grow food.

But Sansa building a snow model of Winterfell means that she’s the best qualified peace time ruler? Reddit dudebros and so called tumblr feminists united in wanting female characters who wield soft power and uphold the patriarchy as future rulers.

Even when it comes to personal growth, while Sansa has come a long way from her AGoT days, she still has some catching up to do with her peers. After getting hold of LF, Sansa complains that Harry is a horrible person for calling her a bastard.

Come,” Petyr said, “walk with me.” He took her by the arm and led her deeper into the vaults, past an empty dungeon. “And how was your first meeting with Harry the Heir?”

“He’s horrible.”

“The world is full of horrors, sweet. By now you ought to know that. You’ve seen enough of them.”

“Yes,” she said, “but why must he be so cruel? He called me your bastard. Right in the yard, in front of everyone.”

Now, personally, this is the point where I would like some introspection from Sansa. Remember when Sansa called out Jon as a jealous bastard in front of her friends in AGoT and Arya defended him?

Sansa sighed as she stitched.  “Poor Jon,” she said.  “He gets jealous because he's a bastard.”

“He’s our brother,” Arya said, much too loudly. Her voice cut through the afternoon quiet of the tower room.

“Our half brother,” Sansa corrected, soft and precise. - Arya, AGoT

Considering the way Sansa ignored Joffrey’s attack on Arya, it’s a good bet that if Harry the Heir had called out Jon Snow as a bastard in front of everyone in AGoT, Sansa would not have an issue with it. Now that she is being insulted as one, she gets to experience the hurt that Jon felt everyday growing up in Winterfell as a real bastard.

But even here, she refuses to scrutinize the situation more than simply getting angry at being called a bastard. Sansa is often held up as this compassionate, kindest person, ‘beacon of hope for the future’, a queen who cares for the masses etc. But where is her questioning why the classist prejudice against bastards is in itself wrong?

She is angry that she is being called a bastard, she is not angry that bastards are treated as less than. She doesn’t question the societal prejudice against bastards, only angry that she has to pretend to be one and be insulted as one. She doesn’t spare a second reflecting on her bastard brother Jon Snow or question her low opinion of bastards:

Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon. She even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their lady mother in her face or her coloring. And Jon’s mother had been common, or so people whispered. Once, when she was littler, Sansa had even asked Mother if perhaps there hadn’t been some mistake. - Sansa, AGoT

And that’s the difference I see between Sansa and characters like Dany, Arya, Jon, Brienne and even with Tyrion and Penny. While GRRM interrogates Westerosi society prejudices, feudalism, classism, sexism, slavery, ableism, bigotry, the effects of war on the small folk etc with these other characters, Sansa rarely reflects on these issues. That’s why it makes no sense when epithets like ‘embodiment of hope for the future’ is used to describe the character. Hope for whom? The small folk? The patriarchy? The feudal lords?

Sansa being nice to people like the stuttering Ser Wallace is held up as her being the kindest ever. But Jon is nice to Shireen, Arya is kind to Weasel, Jaime is kind to Tyrion. Why is kindness and compassion only highlighted for Sansa, like some unique feature of hers when many characters, even the villains, exhibit kindness?

This is Jon Snow in ADwD

“I see what you are, Snow. Half a wolf and half a wildling, baseborn get of a traitor and a whore. You would deliver a highborn maid to the bed of some stinking savage. Did you sample her yourself first?” He laughed. “If you mean to kill me, do it and be damned for a kinslayer. Stark and Karstark are one blood.”

“My name is Snow.”

“Bastard.”

“Guilty. Of that, at least.”  - Jon Snow, ADwD

This is Sansa Stark in TWoW:

Ser Harrold looked down at her coldly. “Why should it please me to be escorted anywhere by Littlefinger’s bastard?”  

“Yes,” she said, “but why must he be so cruel? He called me your bastard. Right in the yard, in front of everyone.”  - Alayne, TWoW

Sansa in TWoW is as hurt by the bastard moniker as Jon Snow was in AGoT when addressed as such by Tyrion. She’s emotionally where Jon Snow was in AGoT, while Jon has matured enough to not care for such insults anymore. And this is book 6! I guess it makes sense considering Jon is 16 -17 and Sansa would be 13 - 14 years old, making her younger than him in AGoT. But this is why the whole ‘Jon should take Sansa’s advice to rule because she’s the smartest ever!’ trash the show pushed to hype up Sansa is complete nonsense.

I don’t know how many chapters GRRM will be devoting to Sansa in the Vale in TWoW, but there’s still a lot of growth and character development pending for book Sansa. As I have always said, Sansa has a lot of information but she rarely if ever introspects on what she has heard and seen. She knows that LF last had Jeyne Poole but at one point wonders where Jeyne Poole is... Just ask LF dammit! She knows that Lysa had Jon Arryn poisoned on LF’s say so and knows that SweetRobin is being dosed with dangerous levels of Sweetsleep and that LF is banking on his death and yet thinks that SweetRobin will be okay. She needs to start putting two and two together to come up with four and I suspect that in itself will take up the whole of TWoW.

So will Sansa become any kind of queen or ruler? No. If she survives the books, I can see her being Lady of the Vale and be moving the chess pieces around. I can see her gaining agency and maybe even be the real power in the Vale aka Littefinger. Just like Jon, Arya, Bran and Dany I think Sansa will be a darker character in TWoW. The game of thrones cannot be played honorably and she will need to get her hands dirty to outwit LF and take him down at his own game.

The point where Sansa simply stops narrating what she sees and actually starts analyzing what she sees in her POV chapters is when the student will become the master and I am excited to see that happening.

[cobaltusami]

Can we get a Ishimondo fic please? Maybe lee!Mondo but its up to you lee!Taka is fine too. May we a tk fic with ishimondo is all I request if its ok friend.

I mcfricking love these two dorks so much-- I had a blast writing this so thank you so much for requesting It friend!

Words: 2746

Characters: Lee!Mondo, Ler!Taka

Pairing: Ishimondo

EDIT: Part two Is here!

Part two: Lesson Learned

Merciless

The library was normally vacant at this hour, as most sane people were In their beds sleeping at three In the morning. Not Kiyotaka Ishimaru though. And by proxy, neither was Mondo Owada, whom Taka had pulled out of bed at this ungodly hour to help study before classes started for the day.

Mondo propped his face up with his hand, His eyes half open as Taka droned on about biology. Was he listening? Well… An attempt was certainly made. But that was It.

The biker hadn’t even had time to fix his hair or throw on real clothes when his boyfriend came barging In- Something he normally didn’t mind but found a bit much today.

He had time to quickly throw on a zip up jacket and throw his hair up into a messy bun, a look he didn’t particularly care to sport. At least his pajama pants sort of matched his jacket…

“Mondo! Are you even listening to me??” Taka stopped his lecture suddenly, whipping around to face his half asleep boyfriend.

“Huh? Yeah, Totally.” Mondo mumbled, sitting upright and rubbing his eyes. 

“Repeat back what I just said.” Taka challenged, folding his arms as he sat down across from the other student.

“You were talking about bones and stuff.” He yawned and stretched.

Taka sighed, resting his arms on the table. “Yes but you aren’t taking In anything I’m saying.” He responded in a softer tone.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying It’s just…” Mondo felt his face flush with embarrassment. “It’s too god damn early In the morning!” 

He tried to put on his usual annoyed or angry tone, But he failed miserably. This didn’t go unnoticed by the energized student.

“Is something else bothering you? Is It me? Do you not like studying with me?” Taka rambled anxiously. “Because I-If so, I can ask someone else to--”

“No! No, It’s nothing like that.” Mondo interrupted, He reached across the table and grabbed Taka’s hands, holding them in his own slightly trembling one’s. “I-It’s just… I’m sorry.” He sighed, Looking away.

“What Is It? What’s bothering you, Bro?”

Mondo flinched, internally shoving his feelings aside as he refused to look at Ishimaru. “Don’t worry about It.” He replied in a softer tone.

Taka knew Mondo quite well by now, as they had been dating for several months. He knew that something was definitely troubling the Biker gang leader, And that he would sooner convince Leon that baseball was fun than he would get him to discuss what was troubling him.

That’s why he needed some... Encouragement.

“Fine. I guess we should continue then.” He pulled his hands away slowly, he didn’t really want to break the hold but it was required for this to work. “Perhaps I need a more direct teaching method.”

Mondo quizzically studied his face. What could he mean by that?

Taka got up and went over to Mondo’s side. “What are the bones in your spine called?”

“Wha? That’s not In the…”

“Answer my question.”

Mondo narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the raven haired student. What Is he up to? “Vertebrae.”

“Very good. How many are there?” Taka walked around him, Standing behind him now.

“Fuck If I know, That’s not even on this upcoming tes--” Mondo clamped his mouth shut as he felt a finger slowly trailing up his spine. He arched his back away from the strange sensations as he stifled a giggle. “What the fuck are you doing?!” He snapped.

As he tried to turn around In his seat to fix Taka with a glare, He felt Taka place his forearm against the back of his shoulders near his neck, and pushed him down against the table, pinning him there.

“How many Vertebrae make up the spine?” He repeated the question calmly, As If this were totally normal.

“Get the hell off of me!” He complained, struggling. Taka was surprisingly strong, able to hold him in place with relative ease.

He felt fingers begin to lightly scribble around his back, paying special attention to his spine. He tried to suppress his giggles, But found he was unable to due to being so tired. “T-Tahahaka! What the hehehell are you doing?!”

“I’m helping you study.” He answered without missing a beat. “How many Vertebrae are there?”

“Thihihihirty threehehehehe!” He giggled tiredly, Relieved when the tickling stopped momentarily.

“Correct. See? You did know! It Is The Cervical, The Thoracic, The Lumbar, and The Caudal vertebrae that make up the spine.” He informed him. “Where on your spine Is the Cervical?”

“The neck.”

“Good. How many of those thirty three are Cervical Vertebrae?” He asked, Smirking.

“I-I don’t know!” Mondo stammered, feeling butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

“That’s not an answer, Kyoudai.” Taka teased, fluttering his fingers lightly against his neck. 

This action drew an actual squeal from the tough biker as he tried to turn his head to protect his neck. “Tahahahaka! Stahahahap Ihit!”

“As soon as you answer my question!” The Ultimate Moral Compass couldn’t help but chuckle at the not so manly sounds coming from Mondo-- who by the way, was giggling quite adorably at the moment he might add.

“I dohohohon’t knohohow!” He tittered, squirming around to no avail.

“Think about It, how many does it feel like?” Taka hummed. Adjusting his hold on Mondo, he was now able to use his other hand to tickle his neck. He used his other hand to press into each vertebrae in his neck carefully. “Count out loud, How many Is It?” 

Mondo decided that Taka was enjoying this waaaay too much, and he was so gonna get it later. “Onehehe, Twohoho… Threehehee, F-Fohohour…”

Taka suddenly leaned forward and smothered the side of Mondo’s neck with raspberries, Causing him to shriek in surprise.

“FihihivEEEEE! HAHAHAHA! T-TAHAHAKAaAaA!”

“Oh, Whoops, Looks like you lost count. Guess I’ll just start over for you.” He smiled, starting over at the top of his neck. “Don’t lose count this time~”

“I swehehear to gohohod, You’re sohohoho dead after thihis!” He giggled, sending his best glare over his shoulder at his evil boyfriend.

“You’re not counting, Kyoudai~” He sang teasingly, speeding up the tickles to his neck.

Mondo began laughing now, complying with his demands and counting aloud once again.

After some very s l o w movements down his neck, most likely to extend the tickles and make him suffer, he finally arrived at the last vertebrae. “Seheheheven! Ihihihit’s seheheven!” 

Taka relented, pulling back and releasing Mondo from his hold. “Very good!” He beamed.

While Mondo was leaning back in his seat catching his breath, Taka thought about his next attack. He reached around the chair, pinning Mondo’s arms to his sides as he unzipped Mondo’s jacket. 

“The fuck are you doing now?” He panted, too tired to struggle.

Taka leaned down and rested his chin on his shoulder, smiling as he glanced at Mondo’s flushed face. “How many ribs does a person have?”

Mondo’s eyes widened as he nervously thought about it. “T-Twenty four?”

“You don’t sound too sure, Mondo.” Taka continued to smile as he spoke. “Are you absolutely sure?”

Mondo went over his previous biology classes in his head, thinking it over as quickly as he could. “Yeah.” He replied carefully, not liking the smile on Taka’s face one bit.

Taka hummed. “Okay… If that’s your answer.”

“W-Wait! H-How many Is it??”

“I thought you were absolutely sure?”

“I-I am! I just… want confirmation.” 

“Well, If you insist.” Without another word he dug into his ribs.

“TAKA! I mehehean’t verbal confirmaaaation! HAhahahahahaha!”

“You weren’t specific, And since you’ve had trouble taking in my verbal teachings thus far, I feel like my hands on approach Is much more effective!” He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Worry not, Kyoudai! I’ll count for you this time!” 

“Dohohohon’t you fucking dahahahare!”

Ignoring the empty threats and string of curses Taka began massaging circles against the sensitive bones, starting at the bottom and working his way up. “One, Two, Three…”

“Shuhuhuhut the fuhuhuhuck up!” Mondo barked out through his laughter, his face was hot with embarrassment at the teasing.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say. And you made me lose my place!” Taka frowned, pausing his ticklish attack.

“Y-You deserved It.” Mondo mumbled between small gasps for air.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset, I’m simply trying to help you better your grades!” He said innocently.

“Bull fucking shit.” The Biker retorted. “You’re just having fun tickling the hell out of me, You’re fucking merciless!”

His cruel boyfriend let out an amused laugh, Mondo could be such a drama king sometimes… “Please, Mondo. I--”

“Just you wait until I get my hands on you, Kiyotaka Ishimaru. You’re gonna scream so loud with laughter that you won’t be able to talk for days.” 

“Oh? Is that a threat?” Mercy? We don’t know her anymore. Taka has now woken up and chosen violence.

“Well, In that case, I suppose I should take it up a notch… Wouldn’t you agree, Kyoudai?” The red eyed man whispered in his hotheaded boyfriend’s ear.

Mondo Is now as good as dead, Like please sign your last will and testament by the x on the dotted line.

“W-What are yo--”

“How many nerves are In the human body?” 

“How am I supposed to know?! No one knows an exact amount!”

“Maybe not an exact number, But there is an approximate. So what Is it?” Taka asked. “How many horribly ticklish nerves do you have?”

It was at this moment he knew, He fucked up. “T-Taka wait I--”

“Hmm. Well, Perhaps I can help you figure It out.” Taka smiled mischievously as he shoved his hands under Mondo’s arms, wiggling his fingers with reckless abandon.

Mondo screeched and threw his head back in hysterics. He thrashed around with newfound energy. “SHIHIHIT! TAHAHAHAHAKA NOHOHOHOT THEHEHERE!”

“Well? Do you want to wager a guess? How many nerves does it feel like?” Taka’s sweet smile deceived his cruel actions. “I would imagine It has to be quite a few! You wouldn’t be laughing this much If there weren’t a lot of ticklish nerve endings everywhere. Especially In this spot.”

Mondo doubled over as much as he could, laughter wracking his body. He did this in an attempt to break Taka’s bearhug-like hold on him, but he held strong. “I DOHOHOHON’T KNOW!” 

“Not even a guess? Okay, I’ll give you a hint then. It’s not a million or a billion!” Taka laughed at the squeal that erupted from his boyfriend when he started tickling faster.

“FAHAHAHACK! A-A TRIHIHIHILLION!?”

“Yes! But how many trillion Mondo??”

There was no end In sight, Nor any escape. He even tried throwing himself out of the chair but the merciless assailant wouldn’t allow him to, since he had his arms locked around the back of the chair as well.

After what felt like forever, The Biker sank back into the chair, his head resting against The hall monitor’s shoulder as he laughed. His body felt like jello at this point from a mixture of laughing, struggling, and just not getting a lot of sleep the night before.

Surprisingly enough, Taka relented and withdrew his hands, though he kept his arms around the still giggling man before him. “The answer Is over seven trillion.” 

“Fuhuhuck… That was evil…” He panted.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have threatened me.” the raven haired man hummed in response. “Besides, I learned from you.”

Okay, so maybe we do know who Mercy Is, It seems like things are finally calming down between these two and-- 

“It wasn’t a threat… It was a damn promise…” Mondo growled.

Taka sighed. “You never learn, Do you?”

He unceremoniously released his hold on Mondo as he had started to struggle again, causing the biker to tip his chair over to the side and hit the floor with a yelp of surprise and an ungraceful thud.

Taka was quick to follow him to the floor, straddling his legs and grabbing both of his wrists in one hand to hold them in place. “Are you ready for your next lesson?” He asked, Energized again.

“For the last time… Get the hell off of me!” Mondo yelled, flailing as much as possible. Though that wasn’t a whole lot.

“Don’t worry, It’s the final question!” Taka responded with a mischievous smile. “Ready?”

Mondo eyed him cautiously but said nothing.

Taka leaned down near Mondo’s face, His smile widening into a grin as he spoke in a calm tone. “How many raspberries can your stomach take?”

Chills shot down his spine, that had to be the most unnerving question he’s gotten In a while. “T-Taka, Don’t you dare. I swear to God! I will kick your ass!” He tried to sound angry, but It came out panicked instead.

“Well? How many? One? Two?” Taka pondered aloud. 

“None!”

“None? I’m sure that’s not true, Kyoudai! Don’t be modest, You’re quite tough... I think you can handle at least five!” Taka beamed, giggling.

“FIVE?! Do you want to kill me!? I’ll fucking die!”

“But Mondo! We must find out, For science!” Taka declared, wasting no more time he dipped down and blew a raspberry against Mondo’s quivering belly.

The Ultimate exploded, Laughing rather uproariously as his back arched out of reflex. “NAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! TAHAHAHAKAA!”

“One~” He sang teasingly before blowing another raspberry.

“GAHAHAHAHAD DAHAHAHAMMIT STAHAHAHAHAP!”

“Two~” and another one. “Three~”

“IHIHIHIHIM SOHOHOHORRY FOR THREHEHEHEATENING YOUHUHU!” 

“Hmm? What was that?” Taka asked, halting his ‘scientific studies’ for a moment.

“I-I’m sohohorry… for threheheheatening you…” The giggles still poured freely past his lips as he gasped for air. “I wohohn’t… Get revehehenge on you… Just stohohop…”

“What If I don’t believe you?” Taka asked cautiously.

“I promise…” Mondo mumbled. “I won’t seek revenge on you If you let me up right now.”

Hmmmmm…

“I’ll let you up on one more condition.” Kiyotaka said, His face  turned serious for the first time since this started. “Tell me what was bothering you earlier.”

Mondo flinched. “L-Listen man… It’s kind of embarrassing…”

“Why? You know I don’t judge you, Kyoudai.” Taka frowned. “You can tell me anything.”

“N-Not this I can’t.” Mondo stuttered, Looking away. “Just trust me, It’s better you don’t-- GAHAHAHAHA! TAAAHAHAHAHAHAKAHAHA!” He shrieked with laughter as Taka blew another raspberry.

“Four. Sorry bro, But those are my demands. If you do not comply then I’ll be forced to--”

“OKAYOKAY JUST STAHAP!”

Taka smiled and moved off of the tough student, sitting next to him on the floor. “What was bothering you?” he asked after giving him a moment to collect himself.

Mondo sat up, his face burning with embarrassment as he spoke. “It’s just…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “When I’m tired, I wanna find somewhere comfortable to rest… And…”

“And?” Taka asked, perplexed.

Mondo took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “W-WELL, I KEPT ZONING OUT BECAUSEIWANTEDTOCUDDLEUPTOYOUANDSLEEP-- There! I said It!” 

Taka’s face turned pink and his eyes widened a little. He knew Mondo was telling the truth, because he yelled. Which meant he was nervous. 

“S-S-See? I told you that you didn’t want to-- ACK!”

Mondo opened his eyes just in time to get tackled back down to the floor by Taka, This time In a hug. “Why didn’t you just say so earlier!? I was worried you didn’t like spending so much time with me or something!” He mumbled into Mondo’s shoulder.

“Wha?? Why the fuck would you think that?! Of course I like spending time with you babe!”

Babe... It has a nice ring to it. “B-Because... Most people get tired of me.” 

Mondo frowned and gently pulled back from Taka’s hug to look into his eyes. “Hey, Listen. I will never get tired of you. I love spending time with you!”

“Even today?” Taka looked up at Mondo with a hopeful look on his face. 

His cheeks turned red again. “Y-Yeah… Even today… J-Just don’t get used to using that teaching method!” He tried to pick up the shattered pieces of his tough exterior, but alas, they were gone.

Taka giggled with amusement. “Deal. I’ll only use it when you really aren’t paying attention.”

Mondo flinched, Making a mental note to try to always pay attention from now on.

Taka went to pull away from him, but Mondo pulled him back against his chest. “Where do you think you’re going? This Isn’t over.” Mondo smirked.

“B-But Mondo! You promised you wouldn’t--”

“Uh-uh~ I promised no revenge if you were to let me up at that exact moment. Which you did not.” The biker reminded teasingly, positioning his fingers over Taka’s sides. “Any last words, Kyoudai?”

“W-Wait, M-Mondo-- NOHOHOHO!”

Let’s just say, Not a whole lot of studying was done for the remainder of their session. The library filled with laughter once more.

[storiesbymads]

THIS BIKINI’S MADE FORE DANCING (AND HITTING THE FLOOR)³ ( sun kissed desires . )

Y/N finds herself on the lovers cruise she was supposed to be on with her fiancé—ex-fiancé—when she meets a single man in the suite right next to hers.

warnings: smut

add yourself to the taglist + series masterlist

Your morning ventures ended with probably the best mid morning nap you’d ever had in your life. You woke up without a headache, thankfully, and with the way you’d guzzled the water bottle on your nightstand before you’d crashed out, you felt halfway ready to take on the world.

You dug through your duffel bag in an attempt to find one of the twelve bathing suits you’d packed three days ago. Hopefully you’d packed your cute ones, you’d been in such a rush you honestly had no idea what all was in your bag or if anything really matched. Finally, you found a black set at the bottom that was simple enough that it wouldn’t require too many of your brain cells to put on, still being kinda sleepy and everything.

Finding your way to the pool was easy, considering it was in the dead center of the boat. You were surprised to see the number of kids sitting around the edge of the pool when you got down there, feet dangling in the chlorine filled liquid. You glanced down at the phone in your hand to see the time. 12:08. Adult Swim.

You crossed the short expanse of wooden walkway over to the lounge chairs, dropping your few belongings onto the small table beside the single free one you could find before covering your phone and key card with the towel you’d just barely remembered to bring down so the sun wouldn’t wreak too much havoc on them. The chair was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked when you situated yourself on it.

The sound of a whistle sent your head snapping in the direction of the pool only to see a few dozen kids jumping into the water as the few adults scrambled to get out in time.

And, of course, your eyes found Sidney’s in record time. God, how could one man be so pretty? The fact that he was practically dripping wet didn’t help, either.

He had a pair of teal swim trunks on, oddly enough, and they seemed to cling to everything as he climbed out of the water. To you, it felt like he was moving in slow motion, but it probably only took him about thirty seconds before he was walking in your direction. No. Right. To. You.

He shook his head slightly as he did so, attempting to conceal the grin making its way onto his face. God, he’s cute, too.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, louder than the other times you’d spoken with him—you gave that up to the fact that you were outside. He’d still yet to adjust his swim trunks and the tent in them seemed to be staring you right in the eyes.

“Hey, you’re the one that came up to me,” you scoffed dismissively. Sidney just cleared his throat in response, nodding toward his belongings in the seat next to yours. The only thing separating his belongings from yours was the tiny metal table, and even that was covered in your personal items. “Oh.”

“Oh,” he mocked lightly. He opted to sit on the edge of your chair rather than take the last two steps towards his own, the warm skin of his thigh brushing against your own. The barely there touch sent tingles up your spine. You couldn’t imagine what having all of him pressed up against you would feel like.

He picked his hand up off the plastic of the chair, hesitating slightly and letting it rest in the air above your leg for a second too long, before letting his rough fingers meet the smooth skin.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started. “About your offer earlier.”

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as his hand trailed higher up your thigh, dangerously close to the flimsy bow holding the fabric together.

“M-my offer?” you stuttered out.

“Are you sober...” he trailed off, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He was fiddling with the nylon string at this point.

“Y/N,” you hummed out a response. “And, yes. Took a nap and everything.”

“Good,” he said before abruptly getting up so that he could collect his things from his own chair. Your skin felt cold without his touch despite the scalding heat you were being exposed to. He turned back around as he shoved his phone into his still damp pocket, “C’mon, pretty girl. We don’t have all day.”

You practically jumped up from your seat to grab your things, in spite of a chuckling Sidney behind you.

The walk to the lobby happened in what felt like half a second and before you knew it, Sidney had you pressed up against the outside of his room door. Maybe being on the first floor wasn’t such a bad thing.

His hips were pressing into yours, his fingers were bruising against your waist, and his lips. They were everywhere. You don’t even remember when he’d started kissing you, you just know you didn’t ever want him to stop.

He pulled away just enough to leave you panting and chasing his lips.

“I gotta open the door,” he whispered, lips grazing yours as he did so. The door clicked seconds later which allowed the two of you to slip inside only for Sidney to halfway shove your against the other side of the door the second it closed. Your palms fell flat against his exposed chest, slipping lower and lower as the moments passed until you were thumbing the hemline of his shorts.

“Please,” you whimpered out.

“Please, what?” he asked.

“Just. Please,” you answered. His hand found the tie to your top in a matter of seconds, undoing it slowly before repeating the process with the one around your neck and letting it fall to the floor between you.

His lips attached to the column of your throat as his fingers traced the edges of your bottoms. His mouth moved lower and lower until he was circling your left nipple with his tongue.

Stopping suddenly, he rose back up to his full height, motioning for you to jump with two taps on your hip as he lifted it to his waist. He carried you across the short expanse of his room, dropping you on the recently made up comforter of his bed.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” he mumbled before reattaching his lips to yours. He tasted like heaven. There was a faint mint flavor that you chalked up to being his toothpaste mixed with the distinct taste of Minute Maid lemonade and a sweet tea brand you couldn’t identify.

His clothes cock rutted against your core, sending flickers of the sight of him getting out of the pool glittering through your mind again. Those swim trunks left nothing to the imagination.

He shifted lower over your body, tugging your bikini bottoms down in one swift motion and quite literally tossing them over his shoulder.

“Look at you,” he praised. “So pretty and pink and wet for me. You’re dripping all over my sheets, pretty girl.”

One of his digits slipped between your folds, spreading the wetness around as he circled your clit with the pad of his finger.

“I think you’re a little-“ you cut yourself off with a moan when he slipped the finger inside you. “Overdressed.”

“Patience,” he said, inserting another finger into your hole. He curled his fingers in a scissoring motion, eliciting a high pitched gasp to fall from your lips. His thumb quickly found your clit which sent your eyes rolling straight into the back of your head.

“Oh my God,” you whimpered.

“Look at me,” he said. You ignored his comment, head hitting the pillow underneath you only for his movements to stop. “Look at me.”

Your eyes snapped back open.

“I want to see your eyes when you come on my cock,” he said, pulling his fingers from you so that he could shove the teal shorts down his legs just enough for his dick to slap against his stomach.

He grabbed a condom out of his wallet on the nightstand, ripping the packaging open with his teeth before rolling it down the length of his dick.

“Fuck me,” you groaned out as he lined his tip up with your entrance.

“I was planning on it,” he exhaled. He didn’t even give you a second to respond before he pushed in halfway.

“Holy fuck, you’re huge,” you said, unintentionally clenching around him. He shuddered before fully bottoming out.

“And you’re incredibly tight,” he said. It didn’t take him long to find his pace as his hands molded bruises into the sides of your hips.

His lips found your neck soon after, running his teeth lightly along the top of your collarbone as your hands found his hair. You would’ve commented on the softness of it if you had a coherent thought in your head. But all you could think about was the burning pleasure building in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum-“ you repeated like a mantra until your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave.

“I’m right behind you,” he said, hips snapping into yours at an even faster rate. He lasted about two more thrusts before you felt him still inside you. He stayed there for a moment before he pulled out and made his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

The thoughts started rushing into your head before the post-orgasm bliss even had the time to fully wear off. You couldn’t believe you’d just done that. Sure, he was gorgeous and, sure, he was practically the most gorgeous man you’d ever laid eyes on. But you were gonna be stuck living next door to him for the next two weeks.

You were already off the bed and grabbing your things from where they’d been dropped at the door—something you didn’t remember doing in the first place—when you heard Sidney turn the shower on. You had your bikini back on before his eyes hit you again.

“You can join me, if you want,” he said as he watched you scramble around his room from where he was leant up against the ensuite’s door frame.

“As much as I would love to do that, I’ve gotta get going,” you said, throwing open the room door and letting it shut before he could get another word out.

You had other things on your plate, anyway. Current mission: find Sigma. She might not be your best friend in the world, at least, yet, but you needed to tell someone about what just happened.

And judging by the way you’d scrounged what felt like the entire ship at this point—not really, you really only checked like three, very public areas—your mission was proving more impossible than you would’ve liked. Then, when you thought all hope was lost, you remembered the teensy tiny little tidbit of information she’d given you this morning when you were in six mimosas. She was staying in Room 215.

“Y/N! How unexpected,” Sigma said as she opened up her door wide enough to let you in. Her southern charm was seeping through every word and it really was no wonder how she’d already gotten married at 23.

You saw a man laying on the bed, thankfully, fully clothed with a remote control laying on his stomach. You heard a woman’s voice coming from the TV and what sounded like a murder documentary.

Sigma was ushering you out onto her balcony before you had time to really search her and husband’s room any further.

“What’s this surprise visit all about? I thought you’d gotten of me this morning,” she said as the two of you sat in the bolted down, metal chairs out there.

“You know that really hot guy in the room next to mine,” you said.

“No,” she exhaled. Maybe you’d forgotten to mention that this morning. Course, you barely remembered anything you’d mentioned this morning.

“Well,” you started. “There’s a really hot guy in the room right next to mine. And I may or may not have just hooked up with him.”

“You’re kidding!” she gasped.

“I almost wish I was,” you groaned, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Was it that bad?” she asked with a wince. You looked over at her with a dumbfounded look on your face.

“It was the best sex I’ve had in my life,” you said.

“So, what’s the issue?”

“I don’t know. He’s kinda like my neighbor for right now, and somehow we manage to bump into each other everywhere we go. I just don’t want things to be even more uncomfortable for me on this stupid boat.”

“Honey.”

“I know, I know. It’s dumb,” you sighed. “I’m just not ready to get involved with another guy. Not after what happened with Max,” you said.

“Look, sweetheart. You’re never gonna find someone if you don’t give yourself the chance to open up. And who says this whole thing with your supah hot guy has to go any further than it has. I say if you get the chance, go for it.”

“Get the chance?”

“To have sex again! According to you, it was the best sex, like, ever.”

The next twenty minutes went on like that until Sigma’s husband practically forced her to go back inside and get ready for something. You took that as your cue to leave.

You were glad you’d gone to find her today. As weird as a start that you’d had for your friendship, she was probably one of the easiest people you’d ever had the opportunity of talking to.

The walk back to your room was quick. That was when you realized the only item you currently had in your possession was your phone. And not your key card. You knew you’d had it before the incident with Sidney and you were sure you’d grabbed everything on your way out of Sigma’s room. Which left one option. It was still on Sidney’s floor.

Sighing, you dropped your head in defeat, walking the two steps it took so that you were face to face with the wooden door you were pressed up against over an hour ago. Your hand hovered in the air until you worked up enough courage to actually knock.

“Here for this?” he asked, holding up the white card in one hand after he opened the door just wide enough to see you.

“Yes, thank you,” you said, reaching out to grab it from him only for him to pull it back, inches from your grip.

“You could’ve just gone to the front desk,” he said.

“I-“ you started. “Forgot that was an option.”

“Why are you always wet when we see each other?” you asked with an eye roll as the door swung open.

“Actually, I distinctly remember you being equally as wet when we met earlier,” he said.

“You’re insufferable,” you scoffed.

“And you’re adorable,” he said before actually handing over the key.

“Says the guy that takes hour long showers,” you said.

“I got a little preoccupied.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed.

“You sure you have to go to your room?” he asked, tantalizingly slow, allowing his words to hang heavy in the air around you as his tongue slipped past his lips. Your eyes stayed glued to the water droplet running down his throat.

“I guess-“

“Well, come on then. Wouldn’t want you getting cold out there, pretty girl,” he said, the hand still holding your key card clasping around your wrist as he pulled you into his chest, and consequently, back into his room.

tags @kiedhara @thefootballfaithful @stuetzlesumlaut @penstxgal1968 @linkingdolans @englishmuffinwritesbooks @mrsvech37 @honeybearbarzal @burningbiatch @hannabritta @monalicia @mymanshawn @butgilinsky @pierreslucdubois @damndunner @klutchnetsov @stampiej @punkharts @heatherawoowoo

[cheelduh]

How to bet your way into someone’s heart. (Highschool AU)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: Fake weed. Poor Signora smh. Oh yes, lots of swearing. UNEDITED ASF IM LAZY BYE.

Synopsis: Childe is being an infatuated idiot, Lisa has eyes for vending machine chocolate, and Kaeya is desperately in need of a pencil. With all these distractions, there’s no way in hell you’ll be able focus on the task at hand.

This is crack.

I don’t have time.

You think as you race down the hallway, shoes slapping against the floor as you expertly dodge multiple students in your way.

Bullet. You're as fast as a bullet, because everyone around you is a blur and you don't stop, can't stop, not until you meet your target.

It's funny how one can accomplish many challenges and feats they were unable to, merely due to pressure. Pressure is a twisted ugly thing that can gnaw its way into the pit of your stomach and grow like a parasite. Pressure is a parasite that can either bring the best in you, or the worst, but at the cost of one's peace of mind.

"Move it Signora!" You shouted a warning at the senior blocking your way. There wasn't any time for you slow down at that point, and you'd risk bumping into the breakfast club's stall if you swerved to the side, sending juice flying everywhere.

Signora's eyes widened momentarily, getting the gist albeit her anger, and choosing to back up flatly against the locker.

Her lipstick nearly slips from her fingers as you swerve past, a thick gust of wind in your wake.

It messes with the hair she woke up two hours early for.

Signora plots her revenge. You still don't have time.

You nearly kick the door to your home room down, but you can't risk the perfect image your teachers have of you. So you pat down your t-shirt, take five tempting deep breaths, and tentatively knock the door.

The door opens and you're met with a young man, familiar amber pupils welcoming you.

You try not to huff and puff at the cost of your stamina. Thinking back, there's no way in hell you could have physically been that fast.

"Good morning Y/N," Your homeroom teacher gives you a small smile, moving aside to let you in. "Class is just about to start."

You check your watch, then turn to him with an apologetic tone, trying not to crack under the eyes of your classmates. "I'm so sorry Mr.Zhongli, I slept through my alarm."

Your idiot ass forgot to set one because you studied till four in the morning.

"You're like thirty seconds late, cut the shit." Beidou boos from the back, causing your stance to stiffen.

"I don't wanna hear it Beidou. If anything, you're two periods earlier than usual." Ningguang calls her out for you, but you have a feeling it's more so on behalf of a personal vendetta.

Ignoring the two bickering, Mr.Zhongli gives you the handout. "Take a seat. Do not fret over such minuscule things dear."

Relief washes over you. Your impeccable attendance is not on the line.

Childe tries to flag you down next to him but you send him a pointed glare and sit next to Lisa instead.

"You should give him a chance you know." Lisa doesn't even have to open her eyes to know what's going on.

"Please," You scoff, digging through your bags to collect your notes. "As if I have the time to fool around with a shady kid like him."

Your friend sighs in disapproval, and makes no move to take out her own notes as Mr.Zhongli begins the lecture on the Archon war.

"You should really pay attention." It bothers you that she doesn't, but then again it's not your place to tell her what to do or not to do.

"I don't need to." She yawns, blinking an eye open towards you. "I have you after all."

"I'm tired of saving your ass." You groan and pull a pen out of your pocket to get started on the exercises as Mr.Zhongli talks in the background.

The course outline contained all the topic, and you made sure to teach yourself as much as you could before class to stay ahead.

Immersed in the worksheet, you blinked away your sleep and tried to answer as many questions as you could at the moment. You didn't hear the slight shift next to you, and the change of breathing, or the rate of which time went by.

A familiar scent makes its way into your nostrils.

"Lisa. Why do you smell like mango juul juice." You know the scent from when Signora blew a mango flavoured fog in your face yesterday at lunch when you said you were hungry.

A chuckle erupts and you freeze in place. "That's because I'm not Lisa."

You blink. Once, twice, and then crane your head to the side to meet a pair of teasing cerulean eyes.

Fingers loosening in shock, the pen drops on the desk with a short thud.

You whisk your head towards the front of the classroom, and Mr.Zhongli is nowhere to be seen.

"There's no saving you now." Childe's smirk widens, and he scoots closer to you. "Mr.Zhongli had to get something from the staff room. The staff room is near the cafeteria."

"Which is also near the merch stall." You grumbled, bringing both hands to massage your temples as a headache is beginning it's reign.

"Tsk tsk. Smart girl. I'd like to add that he's forgotten his wallet in his office as well, which is in the south wing."

"Son of a..." You mutter underneath your breath, and opt to scoot further back, but your efforts are futile because your desk is in a corner.

Your next beacon of hope is Lisa, so you scan the room full of chattering students, only to find her pestering her crush, Jean.

Shit...there's nothing getting you out of this one.

"What did it take?" Is your only question, the despair starting to brew. How much did it take for your best friend to betray you?

"A dollar and fifty for vending machine chocolate."

You take a moment to breathe, calming your nerves and burying down the urge to screech. "What will it take?"

"For what?" Childe replies back innocently, and you can't believe how fast he can change masks. You almost give in.

"For you to leave me alone."

"Aww come on girlie," He whines, closing in the distance. "Don't be so cold."

What did your mom tell you that one time? Oh yes. That if you were ever backed against a wall, then just break the damn thing down.

Too bad it's figurative. You're just about ready to sock him in the face if you didn't know he was into that sort of thing.

"I'm serious about you," He says, and it sounds so real, so genuine, nearly makes you sputter. "See? I've even bought school supplies.

He unzips his light backback and spills the contents on the table.

A lone piece of paper flies out, a lighter, and a mechanical pencil with no lead that follows straight after. There's also a pocket knife that you choose to ignore.

You're not the least bit surprised.

"First of all, how the fuck are you passing this class. Second, do you really think I'm into nerds?"

"Well, considering that you are a nerd—"

"You're making things worse."

"My bad, my bad." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "But on a serious note. I'll do anything."

You cross your arms. "I'm not just another one of your conquests Childe. It's not like I have the time. There are better things to do."

"You need to relax." He says so simply, with complete disregard as to what you are trying to say.

"I am relaxed." You reply, picking up your pen to continue your work. If he's going to annoy you, then you might as well get shit done while he's at it.

You're not wasting any more time.

"When was the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep?" His voice is soft, too soft, and it's not at all like the Childe you know.

Your pen stops momentarily, but you will yourself to continue writing. The words look fumbled, but you don't care. The best thing to do is get your work done and ignore the idiot next to you.

"C'mon, Zhongli won't be back for another half an hour at least. Let's go." He kicks the bottom of your chair to urge you.

The pen shakes in your hand, and you narrow your eyes at the paper, digging holes into poor question eight. "I'm trying to work here. Let me work." You'll say anything to get him off your back.

"Fine fine fine..." He raises both hands in mock surrender. "I'll stop bothering you."

Your ears perk up at that, and you turn to him so fast he has to hold in his laugh. "Really?"

"Yeah," Childe nods along, bringing your hopes up. "If you win a bet, that is." And they're back to ocean level.

You roll your eyes. There's always a catch. That doesn't mean you're any less interested.

"What's the bet?" You ask curiously, all your focus now on him. Just as he longed for from the very start.

He flicks a thumb towards the door, leaning closer to whisper next to your ear. "We bet when Zhongli comes back."

"Are you kidding me?" You aren't bothered at all at the close proximity, mainly because you're too tired and only care about the freedom that will come with your win.

Childe, however, is a completely different story. His heart is beating a thousand times a second, but his face doesn't show it. Not one bit.

Kaeya leans in from the seat behind you two, interested in what's going on. "Ooooh secrets."

"Shut up Kaeya." Childe and you monotonously drone in sync, still having your little staring contest.

The captain of the skating team smiles, about to ask—

"No. We don't have an extra pencil. Even if we did we wouldn't give it to you." Childe finally breaks his gaze to scare off Kaeya.

Kaeya raises a smug brow, and leans back in his chair like the jerkwad he is. "Then don't let me keep you two love birds."

That's all it takes for him to earn Childe's unwavering respect and loyalty for as long as he lives.

After the two are done creating an elaborate handshake as a mark of their newfound friendship, you decide to just forget about the handout. It's not like you're getting anything done anyways.

"Anyways, back to the bet." Childe says, resting his cheek on his fist as he stares at you dreamily. You try not to break under his gaze.

"If I win, you have to go on a date with me."

"No way in hell—"

"Then I'll bother you for the rest of highschool."

Highschool is eternity. You don't want to live through an eternity of this.

"Fine." You answer, and for the first time he sees genuine fear in your face, it makes him waver slightly. Not enough for him to pity you.

"If I win..." You trail, thinking loud and clear as you ignore the excited chatter of your classmates. "I want you to pay attention to class."

"What?" He exclaims incredulously, blinking in disbelief. "I thought you'd get me to stop talking to you altogether."

"If you're paying attention in class, you don't bother me as much and your grades go up." You grin smartly, and oh archons it livens his entire day up, and it's only nine in the morning.

"You care about my grades?" Childe bites back a smile.

"Not at all." You lie, and quickly look away. Woah the floor tile looking trippy.

He decides it's better to get on with the bet without causing you any more distress. After all, you've given him such cute facial expressions today. He's feeling quite generous.

Pulling out his cracked-as-shit latest model phone, he unlocks it and tinkers with it a bit before turning the screen towards you.

"We'll be using this to time both of our predictions at the same time. Whoever has the closer time to when he finally swings by is the winner." The rules are simply put, no room for error.

You tilt your head in confusion. "Why am I seeing a slime review?"

"SHIT!" Childe fumbles with his phone, aggressively tapping on the screen. He lowers his head and voice as if he's been through fifty consecutive hits in the face. "It's uh, Teucer's account."

"Yeah...okay." Is all you can say.

"Ok what do you bet?" He changes the topic to unfuck the situation.

Putting a finger in your chin, you think for a minute, calculating the average of all the times Mr.Zhongli has left the classroom for a considerable amount of time.

"Fifteen minutes." You're sure of it. It's like clockwork every day.

"Hmm..." Childe crosses his arms, seemingly in deep thought. "Five minutes." He places his bet, and both timers start simultaneously.

Five minutes?! Is he serious?

You laugh inwardly. This challenge is in the bag.

The sense of victory you feel dulls when your ears pick up the echo of footsteps nearing the classroom.. Both your heads snap up to the doors.

There's something scary about Childe once his competitive side comes out. "Looks like I've won." He turns to you, eyes darkening evilly.

"What? There's no way in hell a ginger is right." Your palms are clammed up, eyebrows furrowed in panic. You calculated every single variable, how could this be?

You race to the front, Childe right on your tail as the entire class clamps up. The footsteps get louder, causing even whispers to become total silence.

Then it hits you. The shitty music about getting bitches and bars playing on the other side.

The door is swung open by Childe, and you're face to face with an idiot sophomore with a speaker in his pocket.

Childe’s grin is long gone, and you sigh in relief.

The false alarm encourages the class to return back to their idle chatter.

"Scaramouche?" Childe spits, narrowing his eyes at the unamused boy. "I thought it was Signora's shift today."

By "shift" he means being a complete dickwad and scamming fake weed to students in return for their souls. It only really works on the freshmen.

The only reason the club still runs is because Signora threatened the principal with some sus pictures she snapped of him and his assistant.

"Apparently she had an emergency." Scaramouche explains, lowering the volume on his outdated beats pill. "Something about a hair appointment because she got ran into by a, and I quote "lecherous imbecile.""

You steer clear of the conversation, finding the whiteboard far more fascinating and worth your while.

A loud cough is heard from behind the kid, and you're met with a crestfallen look on your beloved teacher's face.

You go through a whiplash of emotions, becoming completely numb towards your loss.

"They were out of slow cooked bamboo shoot soup." He sighs, handing a stack of papers to Childe, who is wearing the fattest smirk on his face at his victory. "Please hand these out to your classmates Childe, and we will begin shortly."

You check down at the timer despite knowing who’s won. Five minutes and twenty five seconds. Somehow, you don't feel as dejected as you thought you'd feel.

Maybe the date will be fun. Maybe Childe isn't so bad. Maybe...you do have time to indulge in these sort of things. If he’s so hell bent on getting your attention, perhaps it’s possible that you can make some room in your heart for him.

However, all those thoughts fly out the window when Childe hands you the new worksheet.

“I hope you're ready for our date tomorrow. We'll be sparring till sundown, and after you’ll be feeding me with chopsticks." He winks, and it makes your heart flip even though all you want right now is to go to the bathroom and barf your guts out.

Feelings are complicated.

You smile back at him nauseously, tight lipped and all, then you pull out your phone, go on maps, and search for the closest cliffs to jump off of.

After he's done, Childe slouches back in his original seat with a different kind of enthusiasm, and opens up his messages. He texts Zhongli a "thank you <3".

[hanniiesuckle17]

Stray Kids Reaction: First Kiss

A/n: I hope you like it! I think these turned out super cute! feel free to request again!

Requested by: @tropicalwrites​ (thank you bb)

Tag List: @distrikt9​ @mini-meanhoe​ @poeticallyspaghetti​ (Tag List is open)

Bangchan:

Dates with Chan had been sparse lately. It wasn’t his fault. They were doing promotions for a comeback and Chan had absolutely zero free time and any time he did have, despite his protests, you wanted him to spend resting. “Y/n, please! I wanna see you!” Chan whined over the phone. 

You sighed and looked at the time. The boys were still at the company, but would most likely be at the dorms in an hour or two. “Okay how about this. I’ll come over to the dorms and cook dinner for you and the boys tonight. That way you guys can have dinner as soon as you get home.” There was silence on the phone. “Chan? Chris? You there, love?” 

“Sorry, you just made my heart explode.”  

You laughed and hung up the phone. After a short car ride, you were inside the dorm and cooking a nice dinner for your incredible boyfriend and his band members. The steam from the cooking vegetables were starting to make you sweat a little. Grabbing a clip from your bag you pulled your hair out of your face and continued making the boys a good meal.

“Y/NNNNNNNNN!” Several boys screamed as the dorm door burst open. You smiled and finished putting food on plates. Felix attacked you with a hug and Hyunjin and Jisung followed soon after. “This looks really good, Y/n,” Felix said when everyone was seated at the table, Chan beside you. “I’m glad to have a break from cooking for these weirdos.” 

Soon Chan was sending all the boys off to bed with full bellies and food comas. “I’ve missed you so much,” He said taking your hands and sitting on the arm of the couch. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to see you and talk to you, to hold you, and... other things,” Chan said blushing. 

“What kind of other things?” 

Chan looked down and shrugged, his dimples making a shy appearance. You watched him play with your fingers, subconsciously pulling you closer to him. It didn’t take a psychic to know what was on his mind. With a smile, you leaned down and pressed your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss, his thumb rubbing over your skin. When you pulled away Chan had the dopiest grin across his face. He fell back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling in a trance making you laugh.

“That was so awesome.” 

Minho:

Minho sat next to you on the couch. He wasn’t necessarily close to you, but he wasn’t on the farthest side of the sofa either. The boys had been hinting that maybe your feelings for Minho were reciprocated. You had been reading into everything lately and you still came up with nothing. Minho was impossible.

The focus of the boy next to you was heavily trained on his phone. Some random game was enticing his attention away from you. Giving up, you crossed your arms and stared at the TV. 

After letting out many precisely planned sighs hoping to grab Minho’s attention and failing you conceded and started flipping channels. Settling for a drama you watched the soap opera romance that played out on the screen. An hour passed and your stomach was beginning to growl. 

“I’m gonna order a pizza.” You said pulling out your phone. Minho hummed in response. rolling your eyes you walked into the kitchen to grab a soda for you and the thick headed boy in your living room. The doorbell rang and you looked to the couch. Minho showed no sign of getting up still zoned in on his phone. “Don’t worry I’ll get it.” Your feet trudged over the door and you gave the pizza guy a half assed smile. 

“Hi! That will be $22.46.” The boy smiled when you handed him the money as well as a nice tip. “Thanks, have a good night!” 

You closed the door and plopped back onto the couch setting the pizza on the coffee table. A hand grabbed your wrist before you could open the hot cardboard box. Minho smashed his lips on yours, hand coming to the back of your neck. He pushed you onto the couch, hovering on top of you. Caught up in the moment your hands tangled in his hair enticing Minho to deepen the kiss.  

As quickly as he had come onto you, he retreated, moving back to his previous spot on the couch and reaching for the pizza. You lay on the couch, completely confused. “What the hell was that?” Minho shrugged acting as if nothing had happened.

“What?” He picked up a slice and took a bite out of it. “I’m not allowed to kiss my girlfriend?”

You shook your head in disbelief. What? “Girlfr- What? When did this happen?” Again he shrugged like this was common knowledge you were the dumbest person on the planet, and you were starting to feel that way. He thought you were dating already?

“Y/n, you’ve cat-sitted for me at least twenty times. In my book, we are in a committed relationship after ten.” He handed you a slice of pizza and turned back to the TV. You watched as he threw an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. “Congrats on being my girlfriend, dummy.”

Changbin:

“Seo Lewis Changbin!”

“Oh no.” Your best friend mumbled. He took off his headphones and turned to see you marching through the door of his studio. The pissed off expression on your face said everything and also nothing. Changbin only had a matter of seconds to recount everything he had done in the last twenty-four hours and apologize or face the consequences. “Hi, gorgeous, how’s your day?” 

You simply rose an eyebrow and he quickly shut up. “Changbin, do you have something to tell me?” You could see the gears turning in his brain. The gears screaming ‘what did I do wrong this time’. 

It was honestly a little fun to watch him squirm. You crossed your arms and ignored the giggles coming from the other side of the studio door. You knew Felix and Seungmin had followed you down the hall. They were the ones who told you about Changbin in the first place. “I’m sorry that I used your sweatshirt to clean up Minho’s cat piss. But you can have my hoodie.”

“YOU WHAT?”

He screamed as my hands attacked any unshielded spot on his body. “Stop! STOP! I BRUISE EASILY!” You huffed and stepped away. Changbin rubbed his bicep as if you had actually hurt him. “I’m sorry okay!” He scorched farther away from you. Though you had gotten him to confess it wasn’t the secret you were looking for. 

“While I am pissed about that, and you will be getting me a new hoodie, that isn’t what I was talking about.” Changbin watched with wary eyes as you inched forward and leaned on the arms of his office chair. “I had a little conversation with Seungmin and Felix earlier.” Changbin visibly gulped.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“They sold me out?”

“They did indeed.” Changbin’s ears turned a dark shade of red. How you had never noticed your effect on your best friend before you would never know. Possibly because you were too focused on your own infatuation. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his, capturing them in a sweet kiss. Tilting your head you let your teeth drag slowly across Changbin’s bottom lip. 

“Was that like a friend kiss or-?” Changbin asked when you pulled away. You rolled your eyes and kissed him again before he could ask another stupid question.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin was walking you home after a late night boba date. His hand was intertwined with yours as you walked in the warm spring air. “When is your next free day?” You asked swinging your hands as you strolled down the dimly lit streets. You felt safe with your boyfriend next to you.

He hummed, head lifting to the sky in thought. “I think...two weeks from now?” You sighed and he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “I know, baby.” It was hard not seeing Hyunjin. He himself was having withdrawal issues from your company and the boys were starting to notice. His dating ban wasn’t up for another three months, so the two of you had to sneak around. 

“What about nights?” He shooked his head ‘no’ and stopped under a street lamp. Leaning you back against the steel pole, you looked up at Hyunjin. “What about before morning meetings?” Hyunjin laughed, the sound making you smile.

He ran a hand through his blonde hair and dragged his touch down your arm. “Y/n, you and I both know neither of us are going to get up at four thirty in the morning.” You laughed and pulled Hyunjin closer to you, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Hyunjin gave you a soft smile and looked down at you. He made your heart pound in your chest. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it two weeks without you, Jinnie.” He sighed, nuzzling into your neck. 

“Believe me, if you can’t then I definitely won’t.” You ran a hand through his soft hair making him sigh in content. Eventually, he pulled away and stared at you with longing. His eyes looked from your eyes to your mouth in question. After seeing the smallest nod he leaned in pressing his lips against yours. 

You smiled into the kiss, threading your fingers through Hyunjin’s hair. He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “What if I just ran away with you right now?” 

“Jisung would absolutely murder you. You’re supposed to record tomorrow.” You said a little breathless, wanting his lips on yours again. 

“True. Very true.” He came back, another fiery kiss being shared between you. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth. The two of you savored your last moments together under the dim golden glow of the street lamp.

Jisung:

“Hey, handsome,” You answered your ringing phone. 

Jisung’s tired voice came through the call. “Y/n, baby, can you come over to the dorm?” You checked your watch and saw it was almost 2:30 in the afternoon. Usually, he was at the studio until three in the morning. 

“Sure. I’ll be there in like ten minutes.” Slipping on a big hoodie and your shoes you grabbed your wallet and car keys and drove over to the dorms. When you got there most of the boys were in the kitchen or the common room. “Hi guys! Where’s Jisung?”

Chan waved and gave you a hug. “Oh- he’s in his room. Top bunk.” The boys waved as you walked by and you knocked quietly on the last door. A muffled voice belonging to your boyfriend told you to come in. You saw a single sweatpant covered leg hanging off one of the top bunks. Jisung’s head peeked over the side and he gave you a smile.

“Hi!” He said sleepily. Your sock feet padded over to the bed and you looked at him from over the side. “You wanna take a nap with me?” There was no helping the laugh that escaped. 

“You called me just to take a nap with you?” He nodded, his eyes already droopy. It looked like he was waiting to fall asleep until you arrived. With a sigh, you began climbing up the ladder and Jisung lifted up the covers giving you a place to lay on his chest. “This is a tiny bed.” 

“Shhhh. It’s nap time baby.” 

Eventually, the both of you fell asleep. It was easy to relax in Jisung’s arms. He radiated warmth with his arms and legs wrapped around you. Soon your eyes blinked open only to find a dark room. You reached over Jisung to grab his phone. You looked to see it was nearing 11 o’clock at night. “What’s wrong, babe?” Jisung mumbled feeling you move. You told him the time and he laughed. “There’s no point in you leaving, so why don’t you just spend the night?” He whispered.

He smiled feeling you nod and he started running his long fingers through your hair. In the low light, you could only barely make up the features of Jisung’s face. You were only slightly surprised to feel Jisung’s lips on yours. The kiss was slow and sleepy, but sweet none the less. Your hands already around his stomach slipped under his shirt., feeling his warm skin. 

Sleepy kisses were exchanged, Jisung’s long fingers playing with your hair and holding you close in the dark. He pulled you on top of him, leaving no space between you. After a while, the both of you fell back asleep and didn’t wake until morning

Felix:

Felix got a running start before launching himself off the cliff and into the water. You watched from the shore of the little alcove the two of you had found. You cheered seeing your boyfriend resurface in the center of the clear watering hole. “You gonna try?” He called, treading water. You shook your head, and he rolled his eyes. “Come on, there’s a smaller ledge, closer to the water.” 

You looked to the rock face Felix had climbed moments earlier. The colors of green and blue were vibrant around you, making your own little paradise. “Fine.” Felix smiled, seeing you shed your coverup and began swimming back to the shore. He took your hand and led you to a smaller ledge half as high as the one he had previously jumped off of. The waterfall roared next to you and Felix laced his fingers with yours.

“Ready?” You nodded, a nervous smile on the corner of your mouth. You were comforted seeing Felix’s grin. “3, 2,..1!” The two of you leaped from the ledge and into the cool clear water, screams escaping as you fell. Felix held onto your hand tightly as the two of you sank beneath the water’s surface. “Wasn’t that fun?” He exclaimed as the two of you swam above the surface. 

“Yeah, okay. That was fun.”

Felix smiled as the two of you treaded water. “You wanna do something else fun?” Before you could answer Felix started swimming to the waterfall. Trusting him, you followed. He gently took your hand, lifting you up on the slippery rocks. He led the two of you carefully behind heavy curtain of water into a tiny cave. The roaring of the falls echoed in the small space, obstructing your view of your secret alcove. 

“Wow!” You said, reaching your hand under the water. Felix grinned, wet hair falling in front of his eyes. Stepping carefully, he made his way over to you wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your eyes widened at his bluntness, but you nodded palms resting against his bare chest. Hesitantly, Felix leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was slow at first, then picked up as Felix grew more confident. His lips danced against yours, one of his hands coming to tangle in your hair. The two of you parted, breathe heavy and lovestruck grins plastered on your faces.

Felix pulled away and started to do a little dance making you laugh. “What the hell are you doing?” He just continued to do his weird little dance as you watched and laughed at your dorky boyfriend behind the waterfall.

Seungmin:

Two weeks after Seungmin and you started dating, he and the rest of the boys left for a US tour.  Thankfully his dating ban had been lifted early after an analysis by the company, so Seungmin was free to spend time with you anytime he wanted as long as it didn’t interfere with his schedules. 

Your fingers tapped against your steering wheel. The red light turned green and you drove the rest of the way to the airport. Chan called you early this morning, about two hours ago, and told you their flight was getting in at five-thirty in the morning. You yawned, pulling into Seoul International Airport. Seungmin had called you the night before and told you not to bother meeting him since they would be arriving so early in the morning. But, you were determined.

After asking an attendant she directed you the flight gate the boys would be coming from. The sign you had made in the last hour, was bumping up against your legs as you ran through the cold airport. Seungmin’s sweatshirt was blocking the cold air from hitting your skin as you looked for gate A6. 

A few other people were waiting as you approached the gate, but you pushed your way to the front. Your eyes frantically searched the sea of people as passengers came off the plane. Spotting Chan’s curly frizzy hair you held up your sign with a huge grin on your face. 

Chan spotted you first and then laughed at your sign. He called back into the group of boys behind him, who all turned to look at you. Before you knew it, your boyfriend was pushing himself to the front of the group and he laughed when he saw your sign, falling to the ground and covering his face. 

‘Welcome Home Hot Stuff’ the sign read with a funny meme of Seungmin that Felix had sent you a couple days ago glue on the poster board. Not wanting to be apart from you anymore Seungmin ran over and wrapped you up in his arms. “Y/n, I have missed you so much. Why are you here? It’s 5:30! Is this my sweatshirt? I can’t believe you’re here! Honey, I’ve missed you so much-”

You smashed your lips against his cutting off his ramblings. After getting over the shock, Seungmin kissed you back, dropping everything in his hands. He cupped your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks. Your head was spinning in the best way possible. “Welcome home, Minnie.” You whispered against his lips, making him smile. 

“Let’s go get breakfast.” He said with a smile and took the sign from you, looking at your craft project. 

Jeongin:

Jeongin and you lay on the floor of your dorm room a board game between the two of you. Rain pelted against your window, thunder rolling outside. Jeongin moved his game piece six spaces before looking up at you with a smile. You sat with a mug of warm tea in your hands and Jeongin’s hoodie swallowing you in warmth. 

“You are too cute,” Jeongin mumbled, leaning his cheek into his palm. 

Attempting to hide your blush, you brought the steaming cup up to your mouth and took a sip. “Jeongin, really you don’t have to stay here. I’m no scared of the storm.” He shrugged and rolled the dice for you, moving it four spaces. You got up, the sweatshirt falling over your shorts. The mug clunked against the wood as you set it on your desk. 

Jeongin watched you walk over and pulled you down into his lap. “What if I’m the one scared of the storm?” He questioned, pushing a piece of hair away from your face. Rolling your eyes you giggled and kissed his cheek. “Okay, you’re right. I’m not scared of the storm.” 

“Innie, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. My roommate is staying at her boyfriend’s.” 

Jeongin smiled, placing a loving kiss on the side of your neck. He reached over and rolled the dice as lightning flashed outside. The cold air of the dorm made you snuggled deeper into the warm fabric of Jeongin’s hoodie. Sensing movement in his lap he wrapped a protective arm around you as he moved his game piece with his other hand. 

“I think I’m going to win in the next two moves.” You said, causing your boyfriend to turn his head. He looked at you with raised brows and laughed.

“Oh really?” 

You nodded and moved your piece to the final block on the board. “Yep. I win.” Jeongin laughed and looked into your eyes. His knuckles brushed over your cheek his breath ghosting over your lips. You inched forward, desperately wanting to close the small gap between you. A smirk tilted on the corner of Jeongin’s mouth, seeing your impatience. 

Softly, gently, his lips pressed against yours. His lips tasted like coffee, and he smelled like the rain that was falling outside. You dragged your lips against his savoring every moment with him. As you pulled away Jeongin chases after your lips, making you giggle. 

Your eyes looked to the window and Jeongin trailed his lips tenderly down your jaw, before resting his chin on your shoulder. “You stand corrected.” He whispered, kissing your lips again. “I win.” 

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