#shes finally gotten comfortable enough with her swing that she sees it as a safe space

[dilfian]

i got emira to take a shower with me 😭

[lostsunlight]

CHAPTER 11 - TOUCH THE DEPTHS

childe x reader, wc: 4k, masterlist, Ao3

cw: nsfw, violence, murder

Two men stood overlooking the calm harbour, the sun rose ever so slowly over the horizon. The Sea of Clouds reflecting the orange light, gold shining off the edges of the waves. Only dawn could make such a threatening abyss such as the sea look so tempting. Only gods knew what lay beneath the glimmering surface. 

“How did you know?” Childe asked, leaning on the railing

“About what?” Zhongli replied

“Don’t play coy, you told her about my plans. How did you know about her, about anything to do with what the Fatui are doing in Liyue?”

“Age comes with wisdom Childe, all you need to do is look closely enough and you’ll find the invisible cracks that hide in the stone”

Childe hung his head and sighed “You are always so vague”

“The swing of a sword cannot cut the mist from the sky” Zhongli said, eyes somewhere else. With that he promptly turned his heel and left. Leaving Childe to ponder his words woven with things Childe was sure he was yet to understand. Once again he had gotten no answers out of him, only leaving him with infinitely more questions.

Childe sucked in a breath of the cold morning air and stood up straight. Today was the day, he could feel it, everything had finally fallen into place. It was now or never, the chance to seize his glory in the name of the Tsaritsa was finally upon him. How good it would feel to have a source of divine power in his own hands, one more pillar falling at The Tsaritsa’s feet. How good it would feel to prove himself worthy.

There was nothing left to it, with the letters from his family in Y/N’s hands and the comfort that his soldiers wouldn’t have to see him so weakened after the potential battle, he began his true task. 

✧

Something was happening, the air had shifted, it seemed heavier somehow. Childe had disappeared earlier leaving you with nothing but a word of warning and a small bag of letters addressed to him. 

You paced back and forth trying to come up with a plan. He had said he would find you after he had finished his mission, that the moment the clouds drew over the sky you needed to run as far as you possibly could from Liyue Harbour. 

From the broken bits of conversation you had overheard from Childe and Ekaterina it sounded like he was headed to the Golden House, and if he didn’t get what he needed, then he would 'pull out the last stop'. 

That could only mean one thing, he would summon that wretched sea beast, unpinning the spears that had kept it locked beneath the weight of the seas. Zhongli’s words come back to haunt you again. You had never forgotten his title as Harbinger despite how hard you had tried to forget. There was nothing you could do to stop him. 

You walked onto the balcony and kept your eyes on the sky. On the ground The Millelith seemed more tense than usual, whispering to each other and throwing suspicious glances at anyone who looked vaguely Fatui. The Fatui in return were congregating in the shadowy corners, nervous looks hidden by their masks. 

Something in the blue of the ocean had shifted. The ships had stopped in their courses, the wind had died. The further the sun travelled in the sky the higher the tensions rose. All it took was one missive. You saw the messenger, one of Ningguang’s personal assistants, bolting down the stairs to the General. She opened the letter and gave a short nod, the messenger flits away as if she was never there. 

Minutes later the Fatui agents that normally crowded the lantern-lit streets below began to leave hurriedly. The winds always picks up before the first rain hits the ground. Overhead what you could only assume were the Adepti made their way across the sky towards the Jade Chamber floating proudly. 

You hoped Qiqi and Baizhu had also seen the growing tensions and gotten themselves to a safe place.

You had escaped one storm in Mondstadt only to end up trapped in another, how cruel fate can be. You bit the inside of your cheek until you could feel the metallic taste of blood. You needed to do something, and quickly. You wondered what Marianne would do in your position, would she root herself or fly away?

There was a chance that the Millelith knew you were affiliated with the Fatui. There was a chance the Knights had come to aid Liyue. 

The paranoia bloomed in your chest, you tried to suck air in but it was too saturated with salt water. Surveying the streets below again the glints of silver armour drew you in. A flash of navy hair. You turned your heel and slammed the balcony doors behind you. Your back hit the wall and you slid down gasping for breath.

The panic drew in, rotting your insides, lodging itself into every hidden corner of your body.

You drew your catalyst from subspace clutching it tight with shaky hands against your chest. You could fight, not very well but enough to get away. The thought gave you some comfort but you could still feel the eyes of not only The Order but also The Millelith scorching into your back. 

Even the walls in Liyue have ears

Childe said he would find you but you just knew that he wouldn't leave The Golden House unscathed. You don’t know exactly what he has up his sleeve but it couldn’t be good. Childe becomes Tartaglia. 

The first drop of water ricochets on the ground.

Quickly setting your mind to it you grabbed the bag of letters Childe had left you with and you rushed out of the apartment. You navigate your way across Liyue Harbours red lacquered walkways to the ground. The Millelith now crowded every part of the city, weapons at the ready. Children being dragged along by a parent to the safety of their homes. Shopkeeps hurriedly packing up their stores for the day. 

 If you ran you could reach the Golden House in an hour. The clouds gathered, the light of the sun slowly fading away. The storm hits the shore.

✧

Your lungs burnt for air and you came to a stop in front of the sealed doors, gleaming in all its opulence. You could already hear the fierce sounds of battle, you pushed your way past the doors only to find the floor had caved in, you stumbled back up onto the stairs. Piles of mora clattered downwards like a waterfall.  On the opposite end The Exuvia lay, bronze coils lying lifelessly as a golden shield protected the deceased god. His eyes half lidded and absent, despite being dead he still held enough power to make you want to bask in reverence. 

The smell hit you before you laid eyes on it. A great abyssal creature fought with glee, electro singing every bit of the arena below. You tried not to gag the smell of decay and rot infesting the shining glory of the Golden House. You coughed to keep it all down. 

It flew across the arena unleashing an unrelenting barrage of attacks, a cape made of stars floating behind it. A giant dead eye sat in the centre of its face. 

Aether stood unperturbed returning each strike with trained precision, Geo and Anemo infusing every attack. Paimon shouting at the beast, you couldn't make much out aside from the words didn’t and gnosis . 

The beast roared with blind fury. Everything blurred. Your fingers tightened on the legs of a stair, you felt lightheaded the sound below becoming a singular roar. You felt your throat close, bile building up. Acid singed the back of your throat, ears ringing. 

You tried to get up but your body collapsed back down, through sheer force of will you kept the vomit down and with your arms shaking and got up and crawled to the edge. 

Now was not the time to give into fear. Now was not the time to run.

Everything atom in your body urged you to leave this place but you rooted yourself, perched above the spectacle below. You blinked away the tears and bit your tongue. 

Now, seeing the dance through new eyes. The beast held a two bladed spear that quickly transformed into a bow and back. Its attacks were quick and precise, aiming to kill.

It flashed across the area once again, floating for a second. A vortex of water formed, circling around its eye, a moment later a giant whale made of pure hydro burst out of the floor. Its call echoing off the chambers walls in a beautifully haunting sound. One that would burn itself into your memory. It arched slowly turning before it crashed to the floor sending a veritable tsunami of water Aethers way. 

You, now a spectator to this gladiatorial waltz, perched above the jagged floor, with nothing that you could do to help. You leaned over the edge to get a better birds-eye view. Water splashed onto your face but you felt no inclination to wipe it off. 

Aether was knocked back, you held your breath as he steadied himself and charged again. Weaving in and out of the abomination's attacks, sprinting across the battlefield with the power of Anemo, slowly whittling the thing down to its bones. 

That thing was without a doubt Tartaglia, the spear, the bow, Monoceros Caeli. But how did Tartaglia become that abyssal creature? What did he do to himself to transform into that?

Aether let out a piercing cry that shot through your body as he slashed Tartaglia right across the chest. To your surprise he didn't let out any sound, he just fell to the ground clutching the wound. 

After a second he pushed himself back up by one arm, panting from exhaustion. Abyssal waste melted off him soaking into the solid ground beneath him. The scent lingers. 

“Hah, well then... time to cool off. It seems the burden of the Foul Legacy Transformation was too great for my body.” 

He heaved out with what looked like great difficulty. He scrunches his brow and grits drawing himself up to one knee.

“I lacked the opportunity to think this through... And now that I consider the matter more carefully” he takes another breath in. 

“You never had any chance of beating me to the Gnosis. You had no connection to the Gnosis, no matter where it had been taken.”

“That's right! We tried to tell you we didn't take it!” Paimon yells in frustration

“Your show of ability today far surpasses that of Signora's initial assessment of you in Mondstadt. Tell me, how could that be?” He seemed singularly focused on Aether, there was a slight edge to his voice, a growing annoyance

Aether stood above the defeated Harbinger with his sword still brandished “Because I'm gradually restoring my former powers”

“You already know the answer, don't you? I can see it in your eyes. But if that is a secret you wish to keep, I guess I'll just have to curb my curiosity.” Tartaglia draws himself back up to his full height again, the front of his grey suit slowly staining with blood.

“The battle has already left me satisfied. Anyone who strives as I do to grow stronger shall be called a friend, even if our friendship can only be shown in battle against one another.”

“Pretty sure that's not the normal way to make friends.” Aether said, disdain seeping into his voice 

Tartaglia’s tone shifted into that of a more dangerous one, the hint of an edge becoming a blade. 

“Unfortunately, I must bring this amiable conversation to an end. My quest still beckons. Given the Gnosis wasn't taken by anyone, then we must look once again to the beginning.” 

He glances towards the great dragon “Perhaps it was never in the Exuvia to begin with. In fact, it might be that the Exuvia was just a diversion of sorts.”

“So you mean that… Rex Lapis still lives?” 

Your eyes widened and you slapped a hand over your mouth to cover the gasp. You had seen him careen out of the sky. Tartaglia glanced upwards to see your figure lurking above, he gives no indication that he knows you're there.

“Yes, it appears so. Interesting to say the least. It seems that the guardian deity of the capital of commerce is also well-versed in the little manoeuvres beyond the boundaries of contracts. As such, we must now look to our backup plan.”

No, he said he didn’t want to do that. Your fingers tightened on the ledge. Childe continued as he began to pace around as it he wasn’t bleeding out.

“I had hoped it would never come to this, for the weak will be swept away in the process. The truth is, the world belongs to those who pursue strength.” He gave another quick glance in your direction before focusing on Aether again. 

“I seldom willingly involve myself with the weak. Unfortunately, we cannot be picky about our methods as Fatui Harbingers. Children must all learn to eat their vegetables sometime.”

“So, what are you planning to do?” Paimon asked. You knew what he was about to say, you wished he wouldn't, the fool, so blinded by his devotion.

“I will awaken the god that lies dormant beneath Guyun Stone Forest.” Childe announced, walking towards the centre so the light fell directly over him.

“Osial, Overlord of the Vortex, who was defeated by Morax the Geo Archon in the Archon War, and who has remained pinned beneath the waves by the Geo Archon's stone spears ever since.”

He moves his mask from being perched on his head to over his face. In the stark light he was not just the man you had gotten to know, he had been armoured into a beast. The 11th Harbinger. 

The third face of this man. 

“If such an ancient god were to be unleashed upon Liyue Harbour, defenceless without the protection of its deity…”

He cocked his head, the words he had told you before, you couldn't tell what he was thinking anymore.

“Do you think the cunning Rex Lapis would just stand aloof and watch the ensuing destruction?”

Childe summons a number of Sigils which begin to circle him like a vortex, becoming a golden blur. You were now leaning so far over the edge you could fall over if you moved anymore. 

“With the power of so many Sigils of Permission concentrated in one place, along with that which was bestowed upon me as a Harbinger by our Tsaritsa... Breaking the subduing might of the Geo Archon's spears for a time should be no obstacle.” He gleefully says

The light rain transformed into a storm, bullets of rain falling through the broken glass of the ceiling soaking everyone.

“Using the powers of ancient gods in such a situation fails to interest me and is largely against my principles. But knowing that such an action will not only force the Geo Archon to show its hand, but you as well... That makes matters a little more intriguing.” 

You try not to snicker. At least he's consistent. It became increasingly clear that you would need to question him after this is over. 

“Let's see, will the nation that has lost its deity be swallowed up by an ancient malice once more? If you wish to drown together with the people of Liyue, You're free to stay and enjoy the show!” 

Tartaglia raises his arm and transforms himself into a pure trail of hydro and ascends spiralling out of the broken ceiling, the sigils following behind him, leaving a trail of light to follow.

You watched the man leave, an unfamiliar feeling filled the whole of you, not rage, not fear, not confusion but a mix of all three. You just knew it was time to fill your end of the contract, no man would come out of this unscathed. Especially one as reckless as Tartaglia. 

Gritting your teeth you leaned back and stood up, no longer caring for the two beings below. 

You knew how to do it in theory, the final form of elemental mastery. There was no other way to get out of here quick enough to still be able to track him down. You took advantage of the storm soaking you and flexed your fingers gathering the water falling from the sky around you, becoming one with it. 

A sensation of nothingness followed by one of harmony. You pushed yourself against the force of the storm into the sky only to see the multi headed beast. Its belly was glowing as its heads unleashed an uncanny call into the atmosphere, almost like it was calling Rex Lapis himself to try and tie it down underneath the waves again. 

You couldn't quite see what was going on but the shock of seeing Osial unleashed, seeing him taunt an Archon was enough for you to crash into the ground below. 

Pain speared through your shoulder, you let out a strangled scream as you clutched it. You could see the blood seep through the mud. You sat there numb for a few seconds, head resting on a wall as you sucked in air through gritted teeth, tears mixing with the rain. Adrenaline surged through your body numbing the pain for a few minutes, giving you just enough clarity to act. 

You ripped off a part of your skirt off and tore it in two. Taking advantage of the rain you cleaned the mud off, allowing yourself to gasp at the pain. With the other piece you applied pressure and tied it around your shoulder. Not the best but it’ll have to do. You rolled it, at least it wasn't completely broken.

Orienting yourself you looked towards the east only to see writhing beasts and the cries of people. You had somehow landed on the Jade Chamber. How was a question for another time. 

Scrambling up you looked around. Infront were the Qixing and the Adepti firing shots out of ballista. Aether, Ningguang and two unfamiliar women held the invading Fatui at bay. Elemental energy overwhelmed the air making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

He must have ordered them to intercept the attack and hold The Qixing and Adepti out for long enough for Rex Lapis to miraculously appear. You doubted he would show himself. You didn't know what was going on or what a gnosis was but Rex Lapis looked about ready to rot when you saw him. 

Looking frantically below for Tartaglia you spotted a sheen of gold just outside the Harbour. You narrowed your eyes and hoped it was the right person. Gathering your remaining courage, you looked downwards. Only one way. You gathered the storm once again and jumped.

You were hurtling towards the ground in pure elemental form, the rush of fear and pure thrill mixed in your chest. Within a few seconds you had hit the ground. You rain through the soaked grass ignoring the pain.

You stopped in your tracks as Osial stilled, three of its heads converging to form a beam of light into the sky gathering its power.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Tartaglia making his way towards the city, sigils still circling around him. Through the sheets of rain you could almost see a limp.

“Tartaglia!” you called out as you ran towards him. He stopped, his eyes widening at the sight of you.

“H-How! you were in the Golden house, you should be far away and somewhere safe”

You reached him, hooking his arm across your shoulders to help him walk. You grunted from the pain shooting through your shoulder at light speed. He still stunk of the abyss.

“Doesn't matter, we signed a contract and now it's time I helped you”

“You should hate me”

“That's to talk about later, right now we need to get you out of here” you moved, wanting to get to somewhere where there was relative safety.

He fell to the ground taking you down with him. Not a moment later a great flash of light took you by surprise. Childe grabbed the back of your head and pushed you down to the ground with him just as a shockwave winds the both of you. 

Osail had fallen along with the Jade Chamber.

You lay on the ground with him for a few moments, panting as the rain stopped, sun shining through the dense cover of clouds. The sigils disappeared around him.

You narrowed your eyes and sat up to lean over Childe who was sprawled flat on his back, the both of you soaked to the bone.

“Care to explain what the fuck I just saw” part of you wanted to kick him in the ribs and leave after the stunt he just pulled.

“Which part of it?” he grunts back

“All of it” your clutch your shoulder again

Childe sighed and sat up on his elbows. His eyes had smears of purple and blue beneath him, his pale skin seemed white now.

“The beast that you saw is a result of abyssal corruption. I fell into the abyss when I was fourteen for three months and met my Master, Skirk. She moulded me into who I am today. Before that I was just a kid, albeit a little shy, but after that… there was a battle-lust growing inside of the that couldn't be quenched”

Childe glanced away from you and coughed. He lay back down on his back, clearly too exhausted to continue sitting up.

“That form - Foul Legacy, it takes a lot out of me, which is why I wanted you here so my troops didn’t have to see me like this. I’m their leader and I will not let them lay eyes on me when I’m so weak” He spat the last word out like it rotted in his mouth. 

“So you did this for what? Your ego? Your pride?” You sharply question him

“No, I did it to keep the Fatui strong, if it was for my ego you wouldn't be here now would you?”

“And what about all the electro you were using? And while I’m at it what on Teyvat is a gnosis”

Childe unhooks his vision from his belt and flips it to reveal a purple gem with the Fatui insignia inlaid. 

“A delusion, it mimics the power of a vision without Celestia's blessing”

He pressed his lips together in a thin line. “A gnosis… its an Archons connection to Celestia, it acts like an amplifier to their existing powers” 

You picked up the delusion from his palm, it somehow felt deeply unsettling and yet so right to hold such a small instrument of blasphemy against the creators of the world. You felt a smile tug at the edge of your lips

Every part of you was conflicted about Childe, you couldn't look at him without disgust. He tried to eliminate a whole city to get what he wanted. Yet you also wanted to follow him. Join in his aspiration for power in the face of immovable gods. But if you did that would mean sacrificing your freedom, the one thing that had gotten you tangled with him in the first place.

“Y/N, you should hate me for what I did”

“I-I do and I don't. You tried to drown a whole city and yet…”

“Then why do you stick by me”

“...because much like you, I want to have power. I don't know what that means or what that looks like but if it means being with you then so be it.”

“You want to shackle yourself to the Tsaritsa too?” He asked, a glint of hope sparked in his normally emotionless eyes.

“I don't know. All I know is that the gods have turned their back on their people. First the corruption in Mondstadt and now Rex Lapis failing to save his people…”  

“Hah… were finally seeing eye to eye”

“Let's get you healed” You sighed, relenting to him. “Do you think you can make it to the Harbour? There's a way point a few hundred metres from here”

He coughed again, small black flecks in his phlegm. He saw your evident shock “Just abyssal remnants, it happens every time.” 

You stood, helping him up with you. The two of you limped to the waypoint, the storm finally beginning to calm.

[stuffeddrawer]

Love is Stored in the Magic Ring

Rating: Mature TW: Character Death, alcohol Fandom: Dragon Age Word Count: 1844 AN: I swear I was in a daze and a fever at the same time writing this, but it felt so good to get this angst out of my system

MDNI

⁽ᵖᵒˢᵗ ᵈᶦᵛᶦᵈᵉʳ ⁻ ᵃˢᵐᵒᵈᵉᵘˢ⁻ᵖˢᵈ⁾

Gaius knew when he was only twenty-one years old that he was going to die young.

Gaius knew the first Calling was false, but it didn’t stop his panic any. He was angry that they’d all been fooled, angry that the Wardens were led to believe that their death was just around the corner. He believed himself to be safe when Corypheus died. He grew fat and complacent, aiding new Grey Wardens, training them, teaching them as best as he could.

He didn’t say at Amaranthine. He didn’t go back to Weisshaupt like he was called to do so. Because he’d ended the Blight, with just two Wardens, and no deaths, he requested he remained in Southern Thedas, at Adamant, ensuring history didn’t repeat itself. He was aware of the internal conflict going on with the Wardens in the Anderfels, but he’d already done his service – he’d already saved the world - twice. He didn’t dare get involved in a third war. Gaius felt he was too old for another one.

He still remembered all Morrigan told him, still felt her touch, still felt her gaze on his. Even though she was gone from here, that she’d disappeared again with his son, Gaius knew she was still keeping tabs on him. The magic the ring she’d given him years ago (it feels like a lifetime ago, now) was still potent and active, still told Morrigan where he was, and he didn’t dare take it off.

It was a comfort, something he twisted between his fingers when the Calling started again. He focused on it, on the magic inside, on Morrigan’s magic. He took it off the necklace, wearing it properly like he had so long ago.

Morrigan’s ring was a balm, something he rubbed between his fingers when the Calling was screaming in his mind, when all he could think about was that damn song, when he felt like tearing his ears off just wasn’t enough. He felt ghoulish on a good day, and downright monstrous on a bad one. Every joint ached and hurt, but the Calling – oh, the Calling. It was like a thousand voices whispering in his ears, telling him to go left, right, jump, turn around, swing, dodge, roll, go left, over and over again. He felt like he was going mad – did Duncan feel like this, right before the end?

He took quill to paper, one last time, writing two letters, one to Morrigan, wherever she was, if she found his corpse or if he saw her on his way to the Deep Roads, and the other to Fergus, explaining his demise. He thought of Shale and Wynne, wondering if he’d see them again, wondering if he’d be able to have a final conversation with Wynne or if he’d be able to gift Shale another pet rock. He sighed happily at the thought of Zevran and Leliana and Oghren, the times they shared so long ago, the times he and Zevran had gotten drunk enough after the Blight had ended that they were still drunk the next morning, the times Leliana had him laughing so hard he fell and couldn’t stop snorting, the times Gaius walked away with more bruises than before when he trained against Oghren. Finally, he remembered every single fond time and moment with Alistair and Morrigan, cherishing each and every single word, every single stolen glance and kiss with Morrigan, every single breathless sigh. He cherished every single deep conversation he and Alistair had, remembering how they helped each other heal from the trauma they were forced to endure. He missed them all. He knew Alistair had perished during his time with the Inquisition, knew Wynne had died well before, and likely Shale with her. Leliana was the Divine, and in his opinion, doing a damn good job at doing it, Ohgren was on borrowed time like himself.

Gaius decided to write a letter to Zevran, knowing exactly where the old crow was, and explained that by the time he’d gotten his letter, Gaius had died, but he didn’t go without fond memories. Gaius and Zevran were closer than two peas in a pod during the Blight, the both of them looking at each other after it all and realising that they’d made it, that they actually lived.

The letters to Fergus and Zevran were sent, and the one to Morrigan was on his chest, next to his ring. The letter was still on his chest, even as darkspawn ravaged his corpse, taking the shiny things, even the ring she’d given him years ago, its magic as potent as ever and letting her know that not only had Gaius died, but that someone had stolen the ring from his corpse.

Morrigan was in the Deep Roads not long after, anguish tearing at her heart in a way she didn’t understand. She knew people died, they all died, everyone died, in the end. Even her own mother. Not a single one did she shed a tear, but for Gaius? She would have torn the world asunder for him, if she had the power. Instead, she’d give him the sendoff a hero like him deserved.

Morrigan, Hi, lovie. I’m sorry you had to find me this way. I would have tried to find you earlier, but you’re damn near impossible to find if you want to remain hidden. That or I’m blind in my old age. The Calling – the real Calling – it’s terrifying. I felt like I went mad, hearing voices that were both there and not. Call me a fool like you always did, but that ring you gave me ages ago was the only thing keeping me sane. Or held on to whatever was left – never really was sane after all the shit we’ve been through. I know we fought a lot, over tiny things, over Kieran, over letting you go. But I hope you know that I never once stopped loving you. My heart had always belonged to you. I would have given everything up to see you again, to remind you just how much I love you and Kieran. I wish I made a different choice, to follow you into that eluvian ages ago, rather than follow my stupid sense of duty. I wish I helped you raise Kieran, helped you remain safe and hidden. I wish I did a lot of things differently, but… It's weird to say that I’m… I’m happy with the way things have turned out. In the end, I gave my heart to you and that, my love, my heart, my everything, is the one thing I never once regretted. I love you more than there are stars in the sky. Gaius.

Morrigan raged when she saw that a darkspawn stole the ring from his corpse, that another was using the sword he always used. Its glow was dim and the power faded, but it was still sharp as the day it was forged. The ring was covered in darkspawn spume, guts, and gore, but it was back on Gaius’ finger, his sword back in his hand.

Morrigan hated how her vision was so cloudy and blurry with tears, hated how it felt like such a large piece of her was missing. Seeing his lifeless body, glazed eyes and hollow cheeks was a shock. His hands were stiff and cold, not nimble and warm like they used to be. Oh, she’d give anything to have him back.

She brought his corpse back to the surface, not giving a damn about the old and ruined Grey Warden armour littering the place. She knew this was where most of the Grey Wardens died when they heard the Calling. She knew this was where Gaius was going to go.

Morrigan knew the perfect place to bring him, to let this dog-scented country know that its saviour was dead, and died protecting it. She wouldn’t let his body rot with the others down there, damn tradition. This man was her heart, and she wouldn’t let him rot.

The pyre was grand, bright, brighter than the lighthouses at Castle Cousland. As the fire burned brighter, more and more lights in the castle lit up, curious as to why a lone fire was so big and bright, wondering why tonight, of all nights, there was something so big. No one was attacking, no one was fighting, yet Teyrn Fergus Cousland wept as he clutched the letter Gaius sent him.

His cries were soft, but heart wrenching. He should have died before Gaius – if he’d have just fought harder, in the Korcari Wilds, if he’d have just done something different, listened to Gaius when he said that leaving seemed like a bad idea.

All Fergus could do was cry as he watched the pyre from afar, knowing that his baby brother had died.

Time had passed, and the funeral pyre had long since gone out, the timber ash, but Zevran made his return to Ferelden, his hair white with age, body aching and sore and tired from years and years of running and fighting, but he was far too stubborn to stop.

When he’d received Gaius’ letter back then, he broke into tears. The friends he’d made, the family he found for himself – most of them had died, if not all of them. Zevran felt as though he, Leliana, and Morrigan were the only ones left alive, at least until he saw Morrigan’s telltale jewellery on her body, leaning against the same pyre, letting herself go the moment she’d laid Gaius to rest. The world was cruel, taking bright lights like Alistair and Gaius and Morrigan from him, the Maker was cruel for making them His punching bag.

He stood in front of the old funeral pyre, wondering if this was where Gaius had been given a proper sendoff, when his thoughts were silenced the moment he saw the ring Gaius always wore – the same ring Morrigan gave him forever ago.

Like an actual crow, Zevran was drawn to shiny things, but this shiny thing, this one particular shiny thing, Zevran refused to take. This was Gaius’.

“I’m sorry it’s been such a long time, old friend.” Zevran spoke, his voice raspy and shaky, but still Zevran. He saw the bare edges of Gaius’ sword in the rubble, its glow gone and edges dull, power vacant, but it was still a gorgeous sword. He took it from the rubble, thrusting it into the soft earth at the base of the pyre and next to Morrigan. Fereldans would know that this was where their hero was laid to rest. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see you off.”

He sighed, leaning against the old, burnt wood, letting his aching limbs rest for a moment or two, sitting on the other side of the sword.

“But I am glad I was part of the journey that brought you this freedom.” Zevran whispered, closing his eyes and relaxing, finally relaxing, letting his worries and stress and anger slip away.

“Rest easy, Gaius Cousland, hero of Ferelden.”

[halfmoth-halfman]

WHAY THE FUCK?! WHAT THE FUCK?!

i kid you not my boyfriend RAN when he saw my shocked face reading this chapter whilst i was cooking dinner as well lils

HE RAN.

IVE GOT SO MUCH TO SAY???? during the whole fight with Graves and Kira vs Canary all i was thinking about in my head was the song ‘beat his ass bro! beat his ass!’ GOWAN CANARYYYYY!! shank that man and that bitch up!!! 🥳🥳

PRICE???? man’s is redeeming himself omds

i’d be like SMITTEN. SMITTEN. if i was canary

and her ptsd is so beautifully portrayed!!! as another girl who has ptsd it’s so accurate and so comforting to see a proper representation of PTSD. at the height of my symptoms I was like Canary; paranoid, anxious, and had such a short fuse and i thought everyone hated me for it. but to see it portrayed so accurately and how everyone accommodates canary and her needs makes me tear up icl 🥹 every single time. with happy tears of course. so i have to thank you for the portrayal, from the bottom of my heart thank you mother mothie it’s so lovely to see.

BUT PLEASE TELL ME CANARY IS OKAY LIKE??? GIRL HAS NOT GOT A GOOD TRACK RECORDS WITH CARS

and the poor house ☹️☹️ it probably had feelings like poor house; devastated from a fictional house

absolutely wonderful again mother!! hope this wasn’t too ramble like! hope your weekend was good 🩷

– 🪼

aalsdkjas he said he wasn't invested and now look at him LOL

canary really deserves to just go ham on graves and kira tbh, like if he was capable i'm sure price would string graves up like a piñata and let canary go wild (and maybe take a few swings himself)

i know i've said it a million times but price loves her like so much, like if she wanted him to he'd probably step down from running the 141 for her. and even if she never loves him back again, he would do anything for her to make sure she feels safe and comfortable for the rest of her life, which i think canary is realizing 👀

a lot of canary's reactions and feelings are based on my own experiences and similar experiences i've seen, and the anger esp was something that really resonated with me. and like she knows she's being mean, and she doesn't want to be, but she doesn't have a way to really work through those emotions and that trauma yet. and i think the 141 knows that she's going through something and it'll help once graves and makarov are gone, so they're a little more lenient and willing to be there for her despite her jabs at them. plus, y'know, the guilt.

but it's also a little self-indulgent way for me to see a character getting the comfort and patience i wish i would've gotten when i was going through something similar. i'm so glad canary and what she's going through and how she's slowly healing feels real enough to resonate with people. it's something i always worry about because i know reactions and processing aren't the same for everyone, but it's comforting (ig??) to know that people find her realistic.

it's a happy ending so i feel like i have to say she's okay, but i guess we'll just have to wait and see......tho i wouldn't blame her if she decided to stay away from cars for a while

the house def hurt to write, but we don't know the full damage yet right??? it could still be salvageable!!!!

this wasn't too much of a ramble at all, i always love answering your asks!!!! i hope you have an amazing day and that you enjoy the final chapter!!!! 💜

[spider-jaysart]

OTP: Peter x MJ

5, 8, 9, 10, 14, 22

@paladin-of-nerd-fandom65

Ohhh Peter x MJ! This'll be fun!

5. Describe their cozy night in

A snowy night outside the apartment while they're both inside, sitting on the living room couch, cuddling eachother underneath a nice warm blanket, watching their favorite movie while drinking hot cocoa filled with marshmallows and smashed up pieces of candy cane

8. What happens if the other gets sick?

When MJ gets sick, Peter will be by her side, ready with whatever she needs when she needs it. Hot warm soup? Check. Extra pillows and blankets to keep her comfortable while she rests? Check. A cold towel to keep her burning forehead feeling cool? Check. Tissues for her runny nose? Check. "A very loving, very handsome and very awesome boyfriend keeping her company until she gets better?" Check.

And whenever Peter gets sick, MJ will make sure he stays home to rest until she knows that he feels well enough to go back out to take care of business with the criminals out there, cause as a loving girlfriend, she can't just have her sick boyfriend running around out there fighting criminals while feeling unwell like it's nothing, so she makes sure that he gets his rest and energy. She will also do the same that he does for her while he's getting better

9. What are their thoughts on having children?

At first Peter wasn't completely on board with having kids, due to having such a dangerous and busy lifestyle as a hero of New York City, it was MJ who had mostly desired this thought while being married to Peter for three years. She adored the idea of growing a loving family with the man she loved. They've had many difficult discussions with eachother before about starting one, but it was hard for Peter to actually take that next step in their marriage. Peter did want to be a Father someday, he really did...he was just too terrified of what he could lose if he ever did have them.

Though, after some time and a lot of hard thinking, wanting to overcome his fear of getting hurt so that he could be happy with his wife and future kids, he had finally decided to take that next big step in his marriage with Mary Jane

So after a year, they finally had a baby girl named May Parker and a second daughter named Anna-May Parker two years after. They are a happy family.

10. Describe their first date

Peter and MJ were both just 16 years old when they had their first date, it was also around the time Peter had gotten his first part time job delivering pizza's so that he could save up for their date. They both went out to eat at Applebee's and were having a great time with eachother, chatting and laughing together about things as they both ate their delicious meals. Unfortunately though, their date was soon disrupted by an attack from the Green Goblin at the place, causing chaos for them and everyone else in there. So as usual when it came to situations like this, Peter was forced to to leave MJ behind to run away safely with the rest of the crowd, while he went to go suit up and stop the Green goblin.

14. How do their personalities compliment eachother? Do they clash?

MJ is a fun, outgoing girl who makes Peter a more confident person and Peter brings MJ joy with his kind and humorous personality

22. What reminds them both of eachother?

On special days or just to surprise her, Peter will always get MJ Hydrangea flowers since he knows that she loves them very much. So he's always reminded of her whenever he sees them behind flower shop windows when swinging (or walking) by them in New York

The song Riptide reminds him of MJ

Musicals remind him of MJ too, since she loves to be on stage and loves singing

There are these strawberry cupcakes that are sold at a nearby bakery that reminds MJ of Peter a lot since he loves them very much, so MJ will sometimes get them for him as a surprise

MJ has an old oversized, blue, space hoodie that Peter let her "borrow" back in highschool, she's always reminded of him whenever she wears it

Sometimes little random spiders will also remind her of Peter as well

Thanks for the ask, Buddy! :D

Had a lot of fun with this one

[ceo-of-sloppy-men]

You've Got Stars In Yer Eyes

Gay cowboys in space

Ship: Charles Smith/Arthur Morgan Rating: Mature Tags: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, hurt/comfort, Arthur Morgan has TB (But gets better), Charles Smith is Protective, Sci-Fi medical nonsense, not canon compliant Summary:

Suffering from a bad case of TB and sure he's dying, Arthur Morgan boards a Colony Ship for the Western Frontier with the scattered remains of the Van der Linde Gang. Unfortunately, the doctor had neglected to turn on his antibiotic implant, so when he wakes from Cryostasis feeling much worse, he's convinced this is the end.

Thankfully, he's being overdramatic.

Fic Under Cut too

Layers, the doctor had prescribed. Like he was supposed to turn himself into a damn onion, so he had followed the doctor's order, bought a spot on the next Frontier Colony ship and fled like a damned coward. Even he could see where all of <i>that</i> was heading, even if it pained him to leave. Until he found himself in the prep rooms of said ship, holding a flimsy set of modesty-preserving clothes, staring at himself in the mirror. He'll have to buy a second locker just to store all of his clothes, not to mention the money he already spent on the space for his suitcase and checking his guns. At this rate, he'll be broke by the time he even makes it out to the western frontier.

It's for the best, he tells himself while beginning to strip down. He keeps his gaze firmly fixed on his boots in the chatter of the locker room, trying not to grumble to himself. He hadn't even bothered to check that Abigail and John had gotten on board with little Jack before Sadie pulled him onto their ship. He tries to remind himself that Hosea and Uncle are with them – that they'll keep them safe – but horror still licks at his mind, whispering that Micah could have easily tailed them. Who would have known that rat would have given Dutch over to the law? They should have gone after him, but what were they supposed to do when they barely mustered up enough of a distraction to pull Hosea away from the Pinkertons? Thank God Lenny had remembered to bring the med kit, or they would have lost both of the old guard that day.

"Oi, Arthur! You gonna get ready or just stare at yerself like a ghost?" Sean chuckles nervously next to him, nudging his shoulder.

"You could have gone ahead without me," Arthur huffs, suddenly drawn back into the locker room that smells heavily of antiseptic.

"And leave you? Oh no! Sadie would have my head – don't want to anger her; she's got enough on her hands with Molly anyway," Sean continues on, already dressed in his blue spacer uniform. Arthur can see the modesty slip peeking out from underneath his collar.

"Ya just gonna ogle me while I undress then?" Arthur gruffs, dumping his second shirt onto the bench.

"Nah, nah, I don't swing that a way," Sean backpedals, staring up at the ceiling. "Just wanna make sure you don't – you know." He makes a popping noise with his mouth.

"I ain't that weak," Arthur bristles as he tugs the modesty shirt on.

"Sure you ain't! That's not what I meant. Just don't wanna lose you in the crowd, is all," Sean shrugs, still talking to the ceiling.

Arthur grunts for lack of a better response and tugs his chaps off, hearing the alloy clink against the bench as he sets them down. Sean continues rambling on about losing him in the crowd and how they're finally heading out West. Thankfully, he minds his tongue and skirts around mentioning Dutch's name. The glare Arthur shoots him when he nearly does goes a long way. Eventually, Arthur's dressed in spacer blues and stuffing his clothes into a locker (thankfully, it fits into one once he burrito rolls a few garments). Sean follows him like a lost puppy dog as they make their way to the cryostasis chambers, listening to the assistant explain the procedure and what to expect. Arthur half listens, preoccupied with Hosea and Jack's wellbeing, as the assistant notes there are special procedures and spaces for the elderly and children. Hosea wasn't weak, but his cough still hasn't gone away. Thankfully Arthur can still pass as dead tired rather than dying, so there aren't extra questions or forms to fill out. Hopefully, Hosea is even allowed to proceed – Arthur can't imagine what would happen if they arrive and learn that they had left him a hundred years in the past with no way back. Even if it wasn't supposed to be too long, the ships will still be cannibalized for materials, giving them no way home. 

A one-way trip to his final resting place.

"A brighten up, ya look like someone shit in yer boots," Sean points out, elbowing him in the ribs as they make their way over to the cryostasis pods.

"Leave him be, Sean. We've all had a rough couple of days," Sadie chimes in, catching up with them. Molly trails behind her, curled in on herself in dismay.

"I'll be alright," Arthur dismisses the concern, turning his attention to Molly. "Come on, let's get you in a pod. It'll help when you don't have to worry about him no more."

"We're leaving him," she whispers quietly.

"I know, but we'll be alright. We have to be for him. He paid for our freedom with his life; we gotta make that worth somethin'," Arthur reminds her, speaking softly and gently guiding her to a pod with his hand on her shoulder.

"I can't leave him, Arthur," Molly echoes, leaning into him.

"We ain't got a choice, Molly. We'll be alright, I promise. We'll be alright," Arthur attempts to comfort her. He was never good at all of this, but he knew Dutch best. She needs someone who knew him best now more than ever, even after how he treated her in the past few months, even after everything. She had every right to mourn the loss with as much support as she requires.

He makes sure she's buckled in, and her stasis has been safely triggered before buckling himself in. The attendant comes around and checks everyone before triggering the full process. He tugs on Arthur's restraints for a moment, adjusting them slightly and makes a comment about the fresh air being good for him after seeing his eyebags. Then he freezes the row and sends them into storage. Arthur lets the cool chill of stasis fill his bones as he takes a sluggish breath, doing his best not to cough. Thankfully, he's under before his Tuberculosis decides to rear its ugly head.

<hr>

Everything hurts. His legs, his arms, his eyeballs, not to mention his ears are ringing, and the world is far too bright. As the cryostasis thaws around him, the overwhelming urge to cough rears its ugly head. He reaches for the cover of the cryostasis chamber, having already fumbled his buckles off, only to land face-first on the floor. He vaguely registers someone catching his fall and lowering him to the ground, but he could have easily caught himself. The world spins around him, coming in and out of focus as there's a rush of panic. He coughs and coughs, his chest heaving to expel fluid that isn't there. He's sure there's blood dribbling down his chin as he curls into a pathetic ball, clutching his sides. Damn, that antibiotic implant! The doctor had said it'd work during cryostasis, that he'd wake up fine and dandy. Leave it to him to get a faulty implant with no way of going back and demanding a refund. It hadn't been cheap, either; he'd almost been unable to afford his ticket on the ship just to pay for it – if Sadie hadn't given him a little extra, he would have been royally fucked. Yet, here he is, wasting it by dying on the cold floor of the cryostasis storage in a blue jumpsuit. He's vividly aware he's shaking from the cold, trying to curl in on himself further for warmth.

Something warm and soft presses against his face, the smell of antiseptic and plastic filling his nose as he struggles to breathe between coughs. "Breath," someone tells him with a voice like rumbling mountains that cuts through the panic around him. He does his best to comply as something sharp pierces his arm. The coughing subsides slowly, whatever medicine he was giving finally allowing him to peer at the blurry world around him. Kneeling over him, pressing a plastic mask to his face gently, is a dark-skinned man with jet-black hair. The sterile lights of the colony ship shine behind him, illuminating him like an angel. Maybe he is an angel come to take him away? Wouldn't that be something, to be free from this wretched life with gentle hands that could rival Heaven itself?

Wait.

No.

He's not – this isn't – if this is to be the angel that takes him away, this isn't right. <i>He</i> should be <i>She</i>. He's not gay. That is not what is happening right now. He does not find this man attractive, no matter how fast his heart is racing – his heart is only racing because he's dying! Yes. That is the perfectly logical explanation, and the lighting is not perfect, illuminating him in a halo of golden glow. He's just dying, and this poor sucker is just trying to prolong his life. No matter how pretty his eyes are.

"Hold this," the man says, pressing Arthur's hand to the mask.

He complies feebly, feeling his hand continue to tremble. The other man tosses a blanket over top of him as Arthur starts to hear Sadie attempting to calm Molly down while Sean explains to Javier and Bill what's going on. The other man drags a scanner over him, muttering to himself before draping a thermal blanket around his trembling body.

"Is his implant supposed to be off?" he asks over Arthur's body to the group of onlookers. 

"It's off?" Sadie panics, her attention snapping to him.

"I'll take that as no," Charles grunts, clicking something on the scanner. He addresses Arthur, hand on the edge of the blanket:

"I'm going to activate your implant. It'll be a slight pinch."

Arthur tries to fumble out something, but his lips feel cold and heavy, and his tongue feels entirely too large for his mouth. The man continues anyway, pulling the blanket back just enough to press the scanner against his side between two of his ribs. Arthur whimpers at the jolt of pain that rushes through his body, followed by the vague sensation of warmth quickly spreading through his body. Seemingly satisfied, the blanket is pulled back over him, and the other man packs up the emergency med kit.

As he's attempting to help Arthur to his feet, the attendant and assistant come rushing over with panicked looks. The assistant looks sheepish, refusing to meet anyone's gaze as she stares at the floor.

"We heard there was an emergency! What happened?" the attendant demands, looking from person to person for an explanation.

Sadie jumps in quickly before the attendant gets suspicious:

"My friend here had an implant to keep an eye on a dormant virus in his body. The cryostasis must have deactivated it, but we're alright now. He –"she points at the unnamed man – "acted quickly and reactivated it. It should be under control now."

"Ah, well, is it contagious?" the attendant asks, eyeing Arthur warily.

"No, no, nothing to worry about. He just always looks like this – we've known him for ages and never got sick. Doctor back at the station said even if it did awaken, it wouldn't be viral. We're good, promise," Sean adds, attempting to help.

"Very well… but I recommend visiting the town's doctor before heading out to your designated settlement location. Just to be on the safe side," the attendant looks like he wants to prescribe more, but someone calls for his assistance, and he quickly hurries off to help.

Everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief as he disappears from sight. Arthur attempts to stand on his own and nearly lands face-first on the ground. Sean laughs, catching him with the other man's help and tossing Arthur's arm over his shoulders.

"Come on, big man, let's get yer clothes before ya decide ta make friends with the floor," Sean jokes, starting off toward the Men's Changeroom.

"Ya can't even carry crates in a shipyard. Ya can't carry me," Arthur protests, unintentionally dragging his feet as he stumbles forward.

"That's why I'm helping," the other man chimes in, still firmly holding his arm.

Arthur's head swims at the weight and warmth of his hand, trying desperately to shove every last thought down into the depths of his mind. He can't think of a solid argument to protest, moving with his head thick in the fog of this man's voice. So, he feebly lets them stumble forward together toward the Changerooms, the others following closely behind. All he can manage is to croak out:

"I never got yer name."

"You didn't tell me yours, either," the man points out, unintentionally dodging the question.

"Arthur," he answers faster than he should. He winces at the pain in his throat left by talking.

"It's nice to meet you, Arthur. I'm Charles," he informs him, smiling sweetly. Arthur could melt into that smile and stay there all summer – does this planet even have summer? Doesn't matter. He'd make a summer just to stay in Charles' smile… Platonically, of course.

"Well, it's nice ta meet ya, Charles! I'm Sean; the rest of 'em ya saw freaking out over Arthur nearly dyin' were Sadie, Molly, Javier and Bill – kind of a mixed bag of nuts if you ask me. But what colony are ya heading to? We could use someone who can act fast in a crisis, especially 'cause Arthur seems ta like ya," Sean suggests, butting into the conversation with a shit-eating grin.

Arthur tries to act like he doesn't light up like a Christmas tree, sputtering out his indignity at Sean's seemingly innocent implications. He didn't need a possible friendship – or at least acquaintanceship – ruined because of Sean's big mouth. He especially didn't need to make the guy helping carry him uncomfortable.

"I'm headed up to Mellow Hollow[IS1] ," Charles answers, humouring Sean's antics.

"Well, hold on just a moment! Shouldn't we be askin' Hosea before inviting people to join us?" Bill complains gruffly from behind them.

"Oh, I'm sure he won't mind! Besides, we could use the extra manpower – and if Charles here is also heading up to Mellow Hollow, then it's the least we can do to travel together instead of letting him wander off by himself. Safer in groups, remember?" Sean argues over his shoulder.

"I'm a good hunter; if you're worried about me being dead weight," Charles adds. Arthur blinks at him, stupidly forgetting to hide his shock. Charles just shrugs at him.

"I still say we should ask Hosea," Bill grumbles.

"And we say you should stop drinking," Javier deadpans, picking the gunk out from under his nails.

Bill huffs, about to argue, when Sean loudly announces their arrival at the Changerooms. Arthur is sat down on a bench in the middle of the room as Sean fetches his clothes, unceremoniously dumping them in his lap. He does most of his dressing on the bench, staring down at the floor. Until Charles has him lift his arm while he's shirtless so he can check on his implant. Arthur tries not to stare at Charles' chest as the other man presses a scanner against his ribs and makes some sort of satisfied noise. He can hear his heart pounding, and he's certain Charles can hear it too. It terrifies him how off-balance Charles makes him feel, from the gentle touches to his strong frame inches from his face. He can see the swathe of dark hair carpeting his front and trailing down to his pants, swallowing thickly at the sight. He shouldn't be looking at this stuff. He isn't gay. Not in the slightest. He has no attraction whatsoever to men and never has. That one time with Albert Mason in the woods was just because the other man wanted to repay him, and they were in the middle of nowhere. Even if he can still taste him on his lips.

Charles moves away far too quickly, leaving Arthur to stumble through the buttons on his shirt and pull his jacket again, swaddling himself back into the layers from a hundred years ago. He feels entirely too cold and too hot at the same time, tugging the thermal blanket back over himself in an effort to keep warm.

"Can you stand?" Charles asks, coming over to check on him once he's fully dressed.

"I can try," Arthur grunts, taking Charles's hand to stand from the bench. He wobbles on his feet a little, but the ground doesn't immediately try to become his bed, so he takes it as a victory.

"Think I'm good."

"Alright," Charles says, nodding toward the exit. Sean, Bill and Javier have collected the last of their things, already going through check-out.

A hand hovers behind Arthur's back as he walks, and he can't bring himself to brush it away.

Charles offers to carry his satchel and saddle for him. Stubbornly, Arthur tries to carry it himself and nearly winds up face-planting again. Leading to Charles carrying his saddle for him (much to Arthur's dismay at feeling useless). Charles gives him his satchel to carry without Arthur having to say a word.

Arthur can't help the sigh of relief that escapes him when he finds everyone safe and sound, tending to the horses and packing the wagons. The sun beats down on his face as he watches little Jack run around and explain excitedly at the alien landscape while Abagail watches warily. John follows Jack around, making sure he stays out of trouble – the first real sign Arthur has seen of him stepping up to be a father to his son. There’s a bittersweet taste on his tongue when he remembers Issac, quickly distracting himself by focusing harder on the gang. Sean is already bounding around Hosea, a bottle in one hand and a grin on his face. Charles is still carrying his saddle as they approach the group, Hosea lighting up instantly and shoeing Sean away when he notices their approach. Arthur doesn’t expect the hug he’s pulled into, but one moment he’s standing loosely, and the next, Hosea is squeezing the life out of him.

“Hey, Dad, I missed ya too,” Arthur wheezes, patting his back awkwardly.

“I knew there was something wrong with your implant!” Hosea starts the moment he lets go of Arthur. “You should have let me check before we left!”

“Sorry, but we didn’t exactly have the time,” Arthur argues half-heartedly. He knows Hosea’s right.

“Well, at least Sean and Sadie tell me that our near friend here had a brain. Thank you for helping,” Hosea turns, addressing Charles now. He moves to hold out his hand but laughs when he realizes Charles’ hands are full. Instead, he reaches for the saddles.

“Here, let me help you.”

“I’ve got it,” Charles dismisses him, readjusting his grip on the saddles.

“Well, there ya go. Alright then. I’m Hosea – just so ya know. Sean says yer heading up to  Mellow Hollow like the rest of us. From what I hear, he’s already extended an invitation to you; however, consider this a formal one: you’re free to join us if you so please,” Hosea offers, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Sure. Would be better than headin’ up alone,” Charles shrugs noncommittally. He glances over to the horse stables, where assistants are carefully unloading the various livestock and other animals aboard the ship.

“I need to get my horse, Taima first, though.”

“That’s alright; Arthur has to get his as well. Off you two go; we’ll grab your luggage for you and get it packed away – with a last name, of course. If ya don’t mind,” Hosea asks.

“Smith. Luggage number 245808,” Charles supplies before starting off toward the horse stables.

“Don’t just stand there looking dumb, Arthur. Go get your horse too!” Hosea laughs, giving Arthur a playful shove.

Arthur stumbles slightly, catching himself quickly as he hurries after Charles, starting to feel a little better. He keeps the thermal blanket wrapped around him as he catches up to Charles and slows to the ambling pace he’s walking at. Collecting the horses is an easy task. The hard part is when he tries to mount Buell, only to have a mini coughing fit in the saddle. Charles rides up to him, patting his back gently as he works it out of his system.

“You sure you’re able to ride?” Charles asks, concern evident in his voice.

“Might be a good idea if I ride in a wagon. Already fell off my horse while ridin’ once. Don’t wanna do that again to this old boy,” Arthur admits, patting Buell on the neck.

“I’ll ride with you; I’m still trying to regain my bearings from cryostasis,” Charles says, sliding out of Taima’s saddle and offering Arthur a hand down.

He knows he should be able to get down on his own and that he definitely shouldn’t act like a blushing mess about this. He curses himself for not just being unable to ride his own damned horse but for needing help to even get out of the saddle. Charles doesn’t seem to mind, making sure he’s safely on the ground before taking Taima’s reigns and heading back to the wagons. Arthur takes Buell’s reigns and follows after him, trying not to focus on any of this. Charles is just being friendly, and he just likes being friendly with Charles. That’s it. That’s all this is. He’s not gay. Not in the slightest.

The duo doesn’t even have to say a word about riding in a wagon. The reigns to one of the wagons are all but thrust into their hands the moment they reach the gang. Feeling relieved that he doesn’t have to explain why he wants to ride in a wagon, Arthur climbs up into the front with Charles and lets Charles hold the reigns. He fixes his hat on his head and stares out across the vast landscape. It’s sparsely forested out here, a sea of green and a small town not too far from the landing pads. Small mountains and rolling hills are between the trees, leading out West toward the future. The ship has already been partially cannibalized before anyone was awoken from cryostasis, and the back of their wagon is loaded with materials to establish a settlement.

With the sun still rising behind them, Charles flicks the reigns, and the wagon jolts forward.

[snowflakeanimelover]

Hello Dear Kate♡!

I'm so glad to see you continue your content! It's been long time since I've been here..

I have a good news! I finally finished all my assignments and now can have a long holiday!

Also, if it's okay can you write for me a headcanon with Platonic Yandere! 40 years old Nami, Sanji and Zoro (Separately)that thought that their youngest crewmate died many years ago but one day - they met her , alive and she looked just like they remember her - short and young, in one small island where no body but her?

I just really need something fluffy today and I thought you ,maybe, wouldn't mind? But only if you are comfortable with it!

Have, a great day!

Hey there!! Oh my goodness I am so sorry this is late, but It has been a while since I’ve done requests(The time of when you requested this). I am so happy you finished your assignments cause that is certainly rewarding! :) I hope your holiday went super well! 

I still haven't seen all of One Piece, sadly! I really need to finish it!!

Platonic Yandere HCs (Nami/Sanji/Zoro)

Nami

She didn’t know what to say, or think. Someone she cared so much about died right in front of her, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

She remembers specifically how you died right in front of her eyes. 

And she couldn’t help but blame herself for it. 

She blames herself for not protecting you. When she made an oath that she would protect you with her life. 

She knew she should’ve locked you up in your room to keep you safe. 

But after so many years, she never thought she’d see you again. There you stood, on an empty island with no one present but yourself. She couldn’t believe it. She thought she was hallucinating. 

When she could tell it was you, by the sound of your voice, and not just your descendant or something, she didn’t hesitate to give you a hug. 

She swore on her life, once more, that she would protect you. She told herself she’d do a better job this time. She’ll keep a very close eye on you, no matter what.

Sanji

Knowing he couldn’t make any more meals for you made his passion for cooking disappear. How could he cook anything more without your approval of the amazing mix of seasonings he was so good at putting together? 

He missed your contented hum once you tasted his food. Or just the support you have given him to find the All Sea.

He blamed himself for your death. He could've put a little something in your food or drink to make you fall asleep and keep you away from the fight. He knew he messed up.

Seeing you again after many years gave him hope. At first, it was him asking himself how crazy he has gotten for mourning your death for so long. Then, by the way you greeted him with tears in your eyes, he realized how much his mind had been in the right place all this time.

He hugged you tightly, missing how small and tiny you were compared to his towering height. Your head is just in the middle of his chest. 

He promised he’d never let you go. He’d protect you with his life. 

Zoro

His swings with his katana’s seemed to have gotten slower after your death. His little crewmate who would always tease him for how he carried all of his three swords during battle. 

He was angry with himself, still after so long, about how he would have fought to protect you. The image of your death playing over and over in his mind. He wanted to be able to protect his crew with his amazing skills. But after your death, how could he not question his own skills? Did he not practice enough? Has he not been so determined to protect you as he should have? 

He practically punched himself in the face for not thinking of a way to keep you away from the fight at that time. He could have knocked you out or tied you up in a safe place in order to keep you alive.

Finding you on an empty island so much time later made his disappointment in himself disappear. Although he was still disappointed in letting what happened to you still happen. 

He smiled brightly, patting your head as you hugged him with tears. You were so alone on the island for so long, he allowed you to hang onto him for the rest of the day.

As soon as he felt that you were real, his determination to fight has turned into determination to protect you. He won’t let you out of his sight.

[strawhatsoraya]

Kuchiki Byakuya fell in love with a human girl. But he cants accept them because she is human, and he is a soul reaper. One day, Byakuya saw the human girl nearly attacked by a hollow or people. He saved her. You can decide how this scenario continues!

She can see hollows and soul reapers since she was a child, but she had no special power like Orihime or Ichigo.

Have a nice day/evening

🌸💕

Hey hun! Per the time stamp on desktop it's been 18 days OTL oh my goooosssh!! But I have finally finished your request. I have loved Bleach ever since it was releasing years and years ago and had to watch in youtube in parts or downloading in Limewire at the risk of getting a virus on my computer lol. I'm so happy they're animating that last arc. I used to have a love hate relationship with Byakuya but as I have gotten older now I just love him ;~; funny how that works. ANYWAY ENOUGH TALKING ABOUT ME. Let's get to the fic. I hope you enjoy! (banner by: soleilnomoon because I couldn't force myself to open photoshop)

When the Cherry Blossoms Bloom

KUCHIKI BYAKUYA X HUMAN READER | NSFW, SHE/HER, HURT barely comfort LMAO WORD COUNT: 2.3k CONTENT WARNINGS: implied suicide attempt, implied depression, that being said this piece is a little dark theme/mood wise, but there is no gore, or violence, mentions of death, and terminal illness, unprotected sex (i mean it can be argued if Byakuya even needs protection but alas that's a discourse for another day), vaginal penetration, the smut in this fic is very subdued and not explicit but still labeled it NSFW to be safe A SUMMARY: I don't have one today, folks lol. Just read the request and read at your peril.

ACT I – A FIRST MEETING, HALF FORGOTTEN

A city under your feet, unsympathetic, a stranger to your feelings and strife. You scowl down at it as the wind whips your hair around your face. The tendrils sting as they slap your cheeks, over and over again, an unwelcome reminder that you were still alive. Still breathing. A heaviness in your chest numbs your fingers and toes. You inch closer to the edge, aware of the repercussions of falling from this height.

If you were lucky, you'd die on impact. You had never been lucky. Not for a single day in your whole damn life. Not even once.

The laugh that shakes your shoulders is new. A voice so strange it threatens to unsettle you, but your mind had been made up ever since you climbed the staircase leading to the rooftop of the building.

The muscles in your body relax. Your jaw, the one you're always clenching, feels slack, renewed. You set your eyes forward on the horizon, on the sun that has partially sunk underneath it. Twilight spills up, tinting the night sky with pinks and oranges. The colors burn in the back of your eyes as you take a step forward.

The feel of sinking fills the pit of your stomach. There are fingers around your wrist. A surreal strength swings you around, and suddenly you are flying away from the ledge. There are arms around you, carrying you off towards the center of the building. Your lungs struggle to keep up, and you gulp air when you finally catch your bearings. Strong arms help to keep you up as your legs try to decide on what they'll do next; hold you together, or let you fall apart.

An unfamiliar warmth surrounds you. The scent of cherry blossoms infiltrates your senses, along with green tea and a mild sweet scent of maple wood. Delicate, elegant, and strange—stranger, even, the more you take it in. It feels like you're stuck in a dream, mindlessly going where you're taken. You're not sure how you end up back in your room, on your bed. You drift off to sleep, a pallid face creeping up behind your eyelids. His dark eyes stay with you until sleep comes and takes you.

When you wake the next morning, you realized with a groan you are back in your nightmare. A fate you can't escape. You hear your name coming from the room down the hall, and you roll off the bed with a sigh.

“Coming, grandma!” you call out, sliding your slippers on. Your bones feel heavy as you drag yourself to her room. Your smile is practiced, and you force yourself to make cheerful conversation. It was the least you could do for someone who had been giving an expiration date.

As you place the pills on her hand, one by one, watching her swallow them with difficulty, you fight the twisted feeling of jealousy strangling your neck. You fight the desire to take her place, to be the one that wastes away.

ACT II – MEETINGS IN SECRET, MEETINGS FORGOTTEN

Byakuya has no desire to remember you.

He has no desire to allow you to consume his thoughts, but you remain a persistent memory he can't shake off. A fog over his mind, distracting him from politics and polite conversation.

He should have never interfered. He should have let you do, as most tired humans do, and jump off the precipice of the building. His preoccupation should have remained with your soul, and soul alone. Intervening with the living should only go as far as keeping them from becoming Hollow fodder.

He should have walked away at the sight of your back. He should have looked away from the way the wind blew through your hair. He should have made up his mind but the look in your eyes reminded him so much of himself that it had tore, all at once, into an all wound. His hand was around your wrist before he could even assess the damage. Painful memories spilled from his chest as he carried you back to your room. By tucking the blankets around your body, he had hoped to scoop everything back up inside the prison between his ribs.

Before you drift off to sleep, he attempts to replace your memories—the device producing a puff of smoke that makes his nose crinkle.

He often thinks he smells smoke, even while in Soul Society. Byakuya fears he might be finally succumbing to madness. Entertaining this annoying infatuation would be the biggest mistake he makes in a long time. He tells himself this feeling stems from boredom, or perhaps isolation. He surrounds himself with work, scribbling away at parchment in hopes of pushing thoughts of you aside.

You haunt him at night. Your eyes always looking down at him as he tries to sleep. He wonders if things have changed for you. Have you visited that rooftop again? Dread ices his bones, and it is with that foolish impulse that he finds himself visiting you time and time again. It is simply out of concern, he says. You were so close to throwing it all away, and as your savior it should be his responsibility to watch over you.

Casting shame aside, he becomes a silent shadow. A guardian angel dressed in black robes. The irony does not elude him. He smiles sardonically to himself as he watches you do the dishes, a tiredness keeping your eyelids heavy.

He mutters small lies to himself; tells himself that just one glimpse is all he needs to stop worrying. He tells himself this every time he memorizes the profile of your face from the darkness he hides in. On a rainy day he finds you at a cemetery. You hold an umbrella that barely keeps you dry, one of its long ribs pokes straight through the fabric. Byakuya frowns at your choice to use it regardless.

He had seen the plethora of envelopes poking out of your mailbox, purposely forgotten until the white had turned yellow under the sun.

You hated the rain. You had no real reason for it. In fact, it felt like you should like it. It felt like you should stand under it, until it soaked your clothes, until the coldness seeped into your bones. But your wet toes wiggling under the socks of your hole filled sneakers told you otherwise. You hated the feeling of having your feet immersed into something you couldn't escape, like the puddles surrounding your grandmother's tomb.

You think you feel his presence again, so you turn, feet buried in puddles to look for his face. Instead you see the familiar slightly translucent body of a being who should have passed. You walk away from your grandmother's tomb, feet soaked, wet bouquet of flowers in your hand. You kneel down, to place them over the tomb the footless specter is hovering over.

“You should go on,” you tell him quietly, looking up at his slightly glowing form. He smiles down at you sadly. “I'm sure the other side is much better than here.”

He watches you quietly, his own umbrella shielding him from the rain. When the spirit doesn't respond, Byakuya watches you place the umbrella down over the flowers to keep them dry. You walk away, water pouring over you, drenching your hair. The form of your retreating back reminds him of that day on the rooftop.

His fingers twitch as he controls the urge to grab your wrist, just like before.

ACT III – AT LAST, WE MEET. PLEASE STAY

It's a slightly chilly night. Your thin over sized t-shirt does nothing to help the matter. You walk faster to see if that will help, but your slides aren't made for fast walking. They clack with each of your steps, the slapping sound making you feel as if you were being chased. You blame this for the sudden paranoia touching you on the back of neck, clutching the bag of instant food to your chest.

You want to blame it, but you know better.

When you turn around you see it's white mask. A scream gets lodged in your throat. Your first instinct is to run but your legs shake. You fall to your knees and watch silently as it hovers over you. The stench coming from it is acrid. The smell of decay fills your lungs and your mouth waters as you fight off the waves of nausea. You place your hands on the ground, pebbles digging into your palms, and you pray for a quick ending. It was the least you deserved.

Cherry blossoms bloom under the night sky, filling the air with their sweet scent. You look up in search for the pink petals but see none. Instead, you see his back to you, his long hair swaying softly in the wind. The creature that attacked you slowly splits in half, and just as slowly begins to disappear, piece by piece.

He turns to face you, with the same eyes you had dreamed about almost every night. And just like the Hollow, piece by piece, your false bravado disappears. He is inhumanely fast. You realize this in an afterthought once he has gathered you in his arms. The way he carries you makes you feel weightless. You're trembling in his arms, fingers clutching tightly to his robes. You don't stop even when he brings you back to that familiar room, and that familiar bed.

You don't let him go even when your back hits the bed. He hovers over you, a hand over yours trying to decide if he should untangle you from his clothing, or should he continue toying with this flame. The warmth of your body was a temptation he had long forgotten. You pull him down towards you, clutch him tightly against your chest. Your hands are frigid. He gathers them in between his own, brows furrowed together so closely, you fear they'll blur together.

It's been so long since he even dared to be on the same bed as anyone else. It's been so long since he even contemplated staying, but your hands fit so perfectly in his, he can barely handle the thought. He has no confidence, but your eyes are so sad he wants to kiss the darkness away, even if it's just for the moment; even if it's just for the night.

His lips are gentle. The kiss so shy and hesitant, you think you're imagining him again. You think this is some kind of delusion; one you have made up in another moment of loneliness to fill the gaping hole in your chest. His hands trail over your belly, under your shirt, trembling fingers taking in the sensation of your smooth skin. His nerves threaten to get the best of him when he clutches your waist.

The way you respond to his touch, small little gasps that shake your body, urge him forward. Heat swallows him whole as he finds the column of your neck. The more he kisses your skin, the more he touches your body, the more he desires you. The more he wants to consume you, keep you within himself.

The night holds many horrors—beautiful, tragic, and horrific all at once.

He pushes past it, and shoves all thoughts of the future aside. Tonight, he does not want to think. Tonight, he wants to drown in you. He pulls the shirt over your head, and settles comfortably on top of you. Your hands slip into his robes, skimming carefully over the muscles of his chest. A crescent moon spills its light over his skin as you push the robes of his shoulders. It slides down to his waist. Your fingernails scratch down the rippling muscle of his back when he bites down on your neck. The sound that jumps out of your mouth startles even you.

Fantasies had the power to poison, to torment. You don't care about the consequences when he pulls your underwear aside. You don't care about what comes next when enters you, gently, slowly. You only care about the feeling of him burying himself inside you to the hilt. You only care about his soft moans in your ear, the way he clutches you against him as if you weren't close enough. As if he couldn't push you in deeper, fold you into himself.

Heat and lust makes you lose your senses. You touch without seeing, and feel without thinking. All you know is the consuming heat of his mouth brings you closer to the edge of madness. You cry out when you cum, his lips latched around an erect nipple. You pull on his hair, and he follows the path of your neck, up your jaw. He kisses your cheek, and swoops towards your ear.

“You shouldn't,” he confesses, his voice soft and hoarse. “But I want you to remember.”

You wake up the next morning, your legs tangled in your sheets. The morning sun begins to warm the room. You shift uncomfortably in your bed, muscles sore. You blink, as a dream threatens to run away from you; soft lips, large hands, the feel of kisses between your thighs. You throw an arm over your eyes, groaning in disbelief. Another dream you couldn't quite remember yet couldn't forget. His eyes still say with you—pools so dark you dream of falling into them.

Cherry blossoms must have bloomed in your bedroom again last night, you think, as the scent lingers on your skin. You smell it in your hair as you roll in bed, and on your pillow. A hand lays against her chest, fingers curling around the blanket clutching it tightly against it. Searing pain explodes, a carnage she was too familiar with left in its wake. Hot tears spill out of her eyes, but she does not make a sound.

Fantasies had the power to poison. They had the power to torment—especially when it dabbles into reality. It all had felt so real, it leaves you with an aching emptiness. You hope one it might be real.

You hope one day he'd come back for you, and make the cherry blossoms bloom once again.

[zhongliologist]

Breeding Kink Pt. 2 | Dragon!Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x fem!reader

Genre: SMUTTTT!!

Words: 5.2k

A/N: Oh god i have no braincells anymore. Zhongli fcked with my braincells as well. Here ya go. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Happy Birthday as well.

Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

PART 1 HERE

*

It was already deep into the night.

The last of the busy market kiosks has died down, the golden glow of their lanterns flickered off for the day, while the late-night loiterers had gone to rest at their station as silence and the sound of crickets settled in. The harbor has truly gone to sleep after a rough day’s work, and will rise once again at early dawn.

Yet inside the bedchambers of a certain married couple, things were still heating up.

“Z-Zhongli…! Please…!”

You held on to the silken sheets tightly with face flushed and sweating. Every now and then, a moan would escape your lips, savoring the moment where ecstasy was at its peak. It felt good—really good—as your husband Zhongli thrusted sharply into you.

“YN…” he growled beside your ear as he bent down, kissing the bare skin of your shoulders. “YN…I’m close…haa…”

He could feel all the pleasure welling up inside of him. You were holding on to him like a vice grip, as if wringing him out of his seed and coaxing him to come inside you. Zhongli felt his dick twitch at the thought of filling you up, pushing him closer to his climax.

“Aahhh…so g-good….mmnn….! Zhongli…! I’m gonna—”

“My love…I-I…!”

—!

“Mama? Papa…?”

A knock at their door, followed by a small voice stopped the both of them in their tracks.

Oh no, not again…

Looking at each other, you and Zhongli immediately scrambled to compose yourselves.

“Yuqing…ah, please stay where you are—"

“Honey, just a second! Let me…let me just find my slippers—”

Hurriedly, you grabbed your discarded robe on the floor and put on your sandals, while your husband raced to the adjacent bathroom to relieve himself. “Love, I’ll be there in a moment. Please take Yuqing back to her room in the meantime,” was what he said.

As you opened the door, you were greeted by curious amber eyes—the same as her father’s—who seemingly stared at you as if trying to assess the situation. She was carrying her favorite plushie, a geovishap hatchling, for some reason, while you knelt down and caressed her cheeks gently.

“Yuqing? What’s wrong?” you asked her, “It’s way past your bedtime.”

“Something jumped from the window, Mama…! I…I don’t want to go back!” She replied, almost in a whisper as she held on to the plushie tightly.

Your daughter’s words immediately caught your attention. It could just be a squirrel, or maybe something more dangerous. Nevertheless, you have to go check it out.

“Alright, honey. Let’s see what it is,” you replied as you carried her on your arms. “Mama and Papa can easily hunt monsters down!”

Yuqing blinked at you. “Hm? But where’s Papa?”

“Oh, uh…he just needs to pee,” you replied awkwardly, not totally forgetting what you two were doing a while ago.

By the time you arrived at Yuqing’s bedroom, you were greeted by a calico cat which was carrying her own young into the room, staring at you both with scrutinizing eyes. It seemed to have taken a liking to the room and decided to take shelter there. You instantly knew what was the matter.

“It’s a mama cat!” Yuqing exclaimed happily, jumping from your grasps as you muttered “be careful!” at the ecstatic child.

“Don’t come too close to it, honey,” you told her, sitting on the bed as you watched your daughter crouch near the animal to observe it. “The mama cat doesn’t like it if you touch her kittens. She might scratch you.”

“Oh…” your daughter murmured disappointingly, and then returned to your side when she had enough watching.

Looking down to her, you could really see how much Yuqing resembled Zhongli—the same eyes, the same dignified yet gentle countenance. Her hair was a little lighter but it’ll probably turn as dark as Zhongli’s when she’s older. You smiled at the thought of watching your daughter grow—a few years ago, she was still so small and fragile as you held her for the first time, but now, she’ll be turning six, and then eleven, and then little will you know, she has become such a fine lady.

Pulling her into an embrace, you caught the child off guard as you smothered her with kisses.

“Mama!” She protested, but was giggling at the same time. “Mama…what are you doing!”

“I just love my dearest Yuqing!” you exclaimed, but then stopped to pat her head gently. “Now, are you still scared?”

The dark-haired girl shook her head with a smile. “I’m ok now, Mama! It was just a cat.”

“Alright,” you smiled as you began tucking her in again. “We’ll talk in the morning what we’ll do with the cat, but right now, it’s time for you to sleep. Little girls need to sleep for them to grow big, okay?”

“Understood! Good night then, Mama!” Yuqing replied underneath her blanket, as you gently soothed her head. The whole time, you continued to do it until she had finally fallen asleep, soft snores coming from the small child which made you smile warmly.

By the time you returned to your bedroom, you could see that the bathroom lights were still on. You were waiting for Zhongli to swing by Yuqing’s room earlier but for some reason, he’s been caught up in the bathroom this whole time. It also seemed like your husband had heard you enter the room and began calling for you.

“Dear…! Perhaps you could come here for a moment?”

Curious about what was going on, you then stepped into the bathroom and only to be greeted by a much larger, more draconic Zhongli. You could only stare at the large protruding horns on his head, the scales on his arms and legs, and the tail that was swinging back and forth between his legs. Not to mention the large thing on his crotch that made you do a double take at the mere sight of it.

Zhongli closed his eyes as soon as he noticed your stunned expression. Despite how he looks, he still had a bit of his self-control intact.

“YN, I think we have a problem here,” he told you as calmly as he could.

“I might be going into heat again.”

*

It was finally D-Day.

The both of you spent the last week trying to prepared for this, because unlike the first time, you had responsibilities. For one, Yuqing had to be taken elsewhere and away from the carnage. It will not bode well if your child is there while your husband is being one horny dragon.

The people both of you know where highly dangerous though. Among the rejected list was Childe, Hu Tao, and Venti, with the last one loudly lamenting how he couldn’t have fun with Yuqing in Mondstadt. Keqing and Ningguang would be great but they’re busy with work, while the adepti wouldn’t have enough skills and patience to babysit a child for a week, even if it was the child of the former geo archon. That’s why in the end, you asked Lumine and Aether to take care of your daughter for a while—they were at least, safe enough not to put Yuqing in danger. Hopefully.

On the other hand, you had to prepare yourself for another bang of your life. The first time had caught you off guard, but this time, you were prepared to satiate your half-dragon husband to the fullest. You had also prepared yourself to conceive another child. Well, you really were planning to, but it was the night when Yuqing interrupted you two.

“Dear?” A head peered into the kitchen—or rather, a head with two horns.

Zhongli’s dragon features seemed to be staying longer and longer the nearer his heat approaches. Luckily enough, it wasn’t much of a rare sight in Liyue.

“Oh, morning, Zhongli. Should I brew you some tea?” you asked, busying yourself with breakfast for your family of three.

“It’s alright. I’ll do it,” he replied as he stepped in beside you, preparing the hot water to be boiled.

For a while, the both of you stayed like this in silence. You were concentrating on not getting the congee burned while he was trying to get the proper temperature of the water.

In the end, it was Zhongli who broke the silence.

“Will you be alright later?”

You whipped your head to his direction. “H-huh? What? Me? Oh, I’ll be fine!”

“Are you sure?” he asked, turning to you and caressing your cheeks with the tip of his sharp claws. “If only I could assure you that it will be painless.”

“Zhongli,” you called his name firmly as you flipped an egg. “You have never hurt me, and you never will. I survived the first time, right? We have Yuqing running around after all.”

Your words seemed to have magically melted his worries away, no matter how tacky you thought there were. But you didn’t know that Zhongli simply needed your assurance that it will be okay, otherwise, he’d go into a spiral of worry. Comforted by your presence, he crept his arms around you, hugging you from your side.

“Ah, my wife…my lovely wife…” he muttered happily as he nestled his head on your shoulder, savoring your scent and your warmth. “You’re really my wife…”

You giggled at his sudden show of playfulness. “That I am, sir.”

For Zhongli to be this affectionate, it seemed his heat has really gotten to him. Normally, he’ll reserve these kinds of actions for the both of you late at night, but right now, he’s incredibly clingly and wouldn’t stop following you wherever you go. For the most part, he really loves taking in your scent and running his hands around your body.

Soon enough, you hear the loud and rapid padding of feet on the floor as it dashed towards the kitchen where the two of you were. In a few moments, Zhongli was face to face with his own daughter who grinned gleefully at him.

“Mama, Papa!” Yuqing exclaimed as she clung to you like her father.

“Now young lady, what brings you here early in the morning?” Zhongli asked mischievously, still hugging you and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Lumine and Aether! They’re coming right? They’re coming!” she almost shouted, arm tightly adhered to your leg.

“In about half an hour, darling,” you replied. “Now, are you both aware that I’m trying to cook here? I can’t move!”

Instead of letting go however, Zhongli tightened his hold of you while nuzzling deeper on your shoulder while Yuqing did the same on your leg. You grumbled. “Like father, like daughter.”

Giggling, Yuqing glanced at her father who was tightly clinging to you like she was.

“Papa, do you like Mama?”

Zhongli, for a moment, smiled at her warmly before replying. “Very much so, my dear.”

You could only hide your flustered expression at his words. But of course, it made your heart skip a beat, even after marrying him and having his child, Zhongli could still make you feel this way with just a few words.

It was a good thing that Yuqing changed the subject before your heart could explode.

“Papa! You have horns!” she exclaimed and pointed at Zhongli’s head.

“Oh? Is this your first time seeing it?” he asked as he knelt to the floor. “Do you want to touch it?”

Zhongli could definitely see his daughter’s amber eyes sparkling with curiosity as she slowly inched her way closer to him. Yuqing may look like him, but she definitely has your temperament. The way she sees the world with so much wonder and excitement reminded Zhongli of you.

“Can I, Papa? Can I?” she asked, her small fingers reaching out for them.

“Yes, you may, my dear.”

Bending down, Zhongli felt Yuqing glide her fingers at smooth surface of the horns. “Be careful though, the tips should be sharp enough to wound you.”

Filled with wonder, the child gazed at Zhongli with amazement. “Papa, are you a dragon?!”

“I can become one.”

“Does…! Does that mean I can be a dragon too?!”

Aahh…You smiled at the two of them as you finished the last of your cooking. “Alright now. Let’s have breakfast. The twins will be here soon if we don’t hurry up!”

*

“Aether! Lumine!”

The dark-haired girl immediately ran towards the twins right after you opened the door to greet them, incredibly excited for the week ahead. Aether scooped her into his arms right away as Lumine pinched her cheek for being so adorable.

“We’re extremely grateful to you two for agreeing to take care of Yuqing,” you told them bashfully. “It was hard to think of anyone reliable and willing to do it in such a short notice.”

“It’s okay, YN,” Lumine replied, “We’d love to have Yuqing around anyway! Right, Aether?”

Distracted with playing with Yuqing, Aether turned to Lumine who was looking at him pointedly. “Huh? Oh! Oh yeah! We’re gonna play a lot!”

“Let’s play house again, Aether!” Yuqing interrupted, “I’ll be the mommy, Lumine will be the aunty and you’re the daddy!”

A large, tall shadow loomed over the twins from behind you. “I prefer if you’d arrange the designations in a different way.”

“Oh, Zhongli.” You turned to your husband who was menacing enough to make the male twin tremble like a leaf, especially in his half-dragon form.

“M-Mr. Z-Zhongli!” Aether immediately felt a chill run down his spine. If anything, he felt an overprotective dad is way scarier than all the monsters he battled so far.

“Good morning Mr. Zhongli,” Lumine greeted the man calmly with a smile. “You don’t have to worry about anything! Yuqing can be the mommy, I’ll be the daddy and Aether’s the dog.”

“Good.”

You could only smile awkwardly at the whole exchange. If this continues on, Zhongli might change his mind and insist his daughter to stay.

“Alright, here’s all her clothes for the week as well as other stuff she needs,” you interrupted as you shoved a bag on Lumine’s hands. “Please don’t hesitate to call us if something happens.”

Lumine only glanced at you with a plastered smile. Bothering them isn’t something she’d really want to do.

“We will, YN,” Aether replied and then exchanged looks with his sister. “I think it’s time for us to take off now though.”

“Alright. Come on, Yuqing, let mama and papa kiss you goodbye,” you told them as you reached out for your daughter who easily climbed out of Aether’s arms.

Crouching down, you and Zhongli embraced your daughter tightly, kissing her cheeks several times until she began protesting. With Zhongli chuckling, he patted her head gently while reminding her of several things.

“Now young lady, be of your best behavior. Don’t make Lumine and Aether worry too much.

“I will, Papa! Can I have almond tofu as a reward then?”

Zhongli smiled at her amusingly. “Alright. Do we have a contract then?”

“Yes! It’s a pinky promise!” Yuqing held out her pinky and linked it with Zhongli’s, who was careful not to scratch her with his claws.

“Don’t forget to drink your vitamins and eat your vegetables, ok? And sleep on time. Be careful not to go anywhere without telling Lumine or Aether!”

Yuqing sighed, “Yes, yes, Mama. I will.”

Ruffling her head, you finally kissed her forehead while Zhongli did the same.

“Don’t forget to have fun!”

As she ran off to Lumine’s side, the both of you stood up.

“We’ll be going then. See you after a week!” Aether exclaimed as they began to take the steps down the porch.

“Bye, bye, Mama, Papa!”

With that, the three of them disappeared and went off their way.

Glancing at your husband, it had finally dawned on you that this was only the beginning.

“So, should we get started?”

He asked, and you froze.

*

“W-wait…! Zhongli!”

“What’s the matter?”

Your husband asked you, as if he wasn’t pinning you against the wall, nuzzling against your neck as he took in your scent. You could feel his warm breath against your pulse, his hands on your waist as he continued to pepper small, faint kisses on your skin.

“It’s…it’s the middle of the day…a-and…and…!”

“You never had an issue with that… are you getting shy, my love?”

You could sense the teasing tone in his voice as he nibbled on your ear, without ever the intention of removing himself from you. Flustered, you pursed your lips as you bit down a moan.

“N-No, I’m not! It’s just…!”

“It’s just what?”

Zhongli smirked at your unexpected bashfulness, urging him to tease you more to see more of that adorable expression of yours.

“I-I mean, we just sent off Yuqing…and they might return or something—”

“Oh, they won’t.” Zhongli gave your jaw a small hickey. “Or at least I’m sure they are well aware not to bother us.”

“H-Huh…?”

Without furnishing you an answer, he simply knelt down before you and wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you down. Looking down, you could see him smirking mischievously at you, making you gulp.

“Why don’t we get you ready, my love?”

Slipping his head underneath your skirt, you instantly felt his lips on your thighs as he kissed his way up towards your core. You could feel yourself melting at the heat of the situation; the sensation of his warm tongue prodding your clothed entrance.

“Z-Zhongli…! Mnhh…!”

Even with your underwear on, you could easily feel him stimulate your sensitive clit as he circled his tongue around before sucking it. Your knees buckled immediately as you found your hands holding on to his horns, careful not to pull too much.

“You’re so drenched here, YN,” he told you, his voice vibrating against your sensitive parts.

“D-Don’t say that! O-Ohh…! Fuck!”

You couldn’t even tell him off properly as soon as he slid of your underwear and began to tease your hole with his tongue. You could feel him go in and out as his warmth filled you up. But it wasn’t enough, of course. After getting a taste of the real thing, nothing could satiate you other than him.

“Zhongli…oh god! Ah—!”

Without stopping, he continued to lap on your juices and stimulate you until you were at the edge of orgasm. You could feel your legs grow weak and the only thing keeping you from falling to the floor was his tight grip on you as he ruthlessly ate you out like a hungry man.

Peeking from underneath your skirt, Zhongli watched as he gradually pushed you closer and closer to your climax. His bright amber eyes filled with lust as he stared at your half-lidded eyes and trembling lips; crying his name out loud over and over again. He wanted to take you then and there, push his cock inside you until you were filled to the brim; his hard on was excruciatingly painful inside his pants, but he had to be patient and get you ready for him.

“Come for me, love,” he muttered, circling his tongue around your clit once more and sucking it.

It only took an instant for you to shiver and tremble in pleasure as you felt your orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave. Your skin felt like a surge of electricity passed over you as your knees buckled and your arms held on to his shoulders to stop you from falling over.

Removing himself from underneath your skirt, Zhongli then scooped your weak figure and carried you on his arms towards the sofa. He had you sitting on his lap facing him while you encircled your arms around his shoulders and waiting for your high to calm down.

For a while, the both of you stayed like this. Zhongli kept on giving you small pecks on your neck and shoulders, slowly divesting you of your clothes as he went around your body. It was slow and sensual; unlike the first time he was in heat.

“H-Hey…you too…” you purred, kissing the underside of his jaw.

He only hummed at you; his hands busy with getting your skirt off of you. “Yes?”

“Let me undress you too.”

Zhongli reigned in his urges as soon as he heard your suggestion. His face flushed as he watched you slowly remove his tie and unbutton his shirt to reveal his toned chest. Groaning at the feeling of your hands on his bare skin, he knew he only had a few moments left before all his self-control could fly off the window. But it was incredible, he could only feel himself grow even harder.

Soon enough, you were already on the floor kneeling before him. Zhongli felt himself tense up at what you were about to do, but had to strength left to stop you from doing it. Silently, he watched as you glide your hands on his things and then to the prolific bulge on his pants. You could feel him poke you earlier while you were sitting on his lap, which gave you the idea of blowing him off.

Gradually, you undid his belt and pants and finally take out his monstrosity of a cock. Zhongli gave a guttural groan as he felt your hands pump his shaft tentatively, his claws biting at the soft leather of the sofa.

It wasn’t the first time you saw his cock, and while it was impressive in normal days, the one right before you was definitely befitting of a dragon. You hesitated.

H-how did this thing fit inside of me before?!

Nevertheless, you continued on. It was massive but it was definitely hot, seeing Zhongli sitting there in front of you with a flushed face and his cock out. Timidly, you gave the tip a small peck as you slowly allowed your tongue to glide over it.

“Y-YN…that’s…!”

Empowered by his reactions, you then licked the underside of his shaft until it was glistening wet with your saliva. Eventually, precum began to ooze out of the tip and curiously, you began licking it as well, sucking it in the process.

“Ughh…! F-fuck…YN…! I’m really—”

Trying to bob your head up and down, you could only fit so much of him inside your mouth as your jaw tried to accommodate his size. But you felt your core tighten up and become wet, thinking that this cock will eventually fill you up to the brim with his cum.

Zhongli was rapidly losing it. He wanted to cum, but he wanted to cum inside of you and have you bear his child. He wanted to see your cunt filled with his seed until it oozes out of you, and then plug his cock back inside of you to fill you up once again.

No, this won’t do.

“YN…! Y-YN…! P-Please stop! Mnnh—!”

He held your chin to make you stop—the way your lips left a trail of saliva to his dick tempted him push it back inside your mouth—but he had to end it there, right before he came inside your mouth. Slowly he guided you towards him; confused as to why he stopped you right before he was about to come, you moved back to his lap where he gently caressed you and wiped his fluids from your cheeks.

“Let me kiss you, my love.”

In a soft and gentle kiss, Zhongli captured your lips. You could feel it radiating with love and warmth as he slid his lips over yours, his tongue darting inside, as if trying to fill his senses of you and only you. You both kissed until your lips were swollen, until you felt him rub his shaft against you unconsciously, making you moan in the kiss.

“Z-Zhongli…” you gasped for air. “Are you…holding yourself back?”

With those amber eyes, he gazed at you seriously—all the while keeping your lips closed to his.

“Is it a sin to treasure you so much?”

His words caught you off guard, but eventually, you smiled. Zhongli never failed to express his love for you. He was gentle and kind, a good husband and an even better father. Brushing a few stray locks of hair from his sweat-riddled face, you kissed his forehead as a way to show how much you appreciated his thoughtfulness.

“Thank you for thinking about me, Zhongli,” you remarked, “But right now, I really want you to let loose and fill me up completely with you.”

With eyes blown wide, Zhongli felt himself twitch at your words—his arousal no longer hidden. Grabbing the back of your head, he then crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss lidden with passion and lust. He bit and licked on your lips while his hand groped your full breasts, pinching at your nipples to make you gasp against his lips.

“Then so be it,” he smirked. “I’ll make you completely mine.”  

Guiding his shaft to your slick entrance, he pushed himself inside of you in one go—making you squeal at the sudden sensation of being penetrated. It took some time for you to accommodate his large cock, but eventually, your cunt was drenched so much that it hadn’t become much of an issue.

“Z-Zhongli…! Oh god—fuck! …s-so big…!”

You began riding him, moving up and down on his lap while Zhongli continued to make you feel good by playing with your breasts. You could feel his sharp claws make indentations on your skin, but not hard enough to draw blood, but it was a strange sensation which only heightened the pleasure of having his dragon cock thrusted inside of you.

“Hnnghh!! Y-YN…!” Zhongli winced at the sudden tightness, and began to distract himself from cumming by licking on your pert nipples until they were red and sensitive.

With pleasure attacking you from different parts, you could only mewl as Zhongli gradually turned you into a lewd mess as you felt him twitch inside of you. Soon enough, he’ll be cumming inside of you, and that would the first among many others for this entire week. If his first heat said anything, Zhongli wouldn’t stop mating with you until you were fertilized with his seed.

The thought did nothing but coax you to your climax. You could feel yourself tighten around him as he pounded into you mercilessly, your juices mixing together. Zhongli was also close. He was already extremely aroused, and it wouldn’t take long for him to climax.

“A-Ah—! YN….! L-love…I’m…I’m close…!”

He muttered with face flushed and breath ragged.

“Yes…! Oh god, yes…! P-Please, Zhongli…! Ah—! F-fill me…fill me up…!”

In just a few thrusts, the both of you came at the same time. He pushed deep inside of you and came; his warmth filling you up until he was spent. You were still shivering with pleasure when he pulled you in for a kiss, his tongue once again ravishing you with so much intensity that it could be argued that he made you come once again with just a kiss.

Reeling in from the afterglow, you could still feel him hot and hard inside of you, as his breathed hard against your neck. You were no different though—the way your mind was still covered with a haze of lust, or the way his cock inside of you felt so good as it hit a particularly good spot. The aphrodisiac you got from Dr. Baizhu seemed to be quite effective.

Removing yourself from his embrace, you staggered to stand up with your limp legs, but managed to crawl on fours right beside him.

Zhongli was both bewildered and disappointed to have your warm body away from him, but when you pushed your ass before him and gazed at him with sultry eyes, he felt his heart rate pick up the pace.

It was embarrassing to show your cunt dripping with your juices and his cum, but you didn’t really care much. You were too entrenched with arousal to feel embarrassment.

“Z-Zhongli…let’s…let’s do it again…?”

Grabbing your ass, he spread you out even more, and even slapped your butt lightly. Zhongli could definitely see his cum dripping out of you and promptly scooped it up with his finger and pushed it back inside of you.

“P-Please…! Zhongli…I—!”

He smirked. “Very well.”

Without warning, he slid himself back inside of you; making you bite back the remaining words. It felt incredible having him inside. It was hot, as if you were burned and electrified at the same time. Your mouth hardly had the time to close as he continued to piston in and out of you.

This time however, Zhongli began playing with your oversensitive clit, groaning loudly at how you tightened your walls around him. You squealed in delight as his cock hit a particularly good spot, making you cum sooner than expected.

“Oh…o-oh god! Z-Zhongli….! Zhongli…! A-ah…!”

Yet despite your premature climax, he continued on—thrusting inside of you and prolonging your orgasm. It was so good you could feel tears pooling the side of your eyes as he plowed your sensitive cunt.

“You came, didn’t you?” he asked, his lips once again on yours. “I’ll make you come again soon enough.”

True to his promised, Zhongli picked up his pace and fucked you as roughly as he could. You knew there will be bruises after this but the pleasure was greater than anything for you to care about. The way his cock just fills you up, hitting your g-spot over and over again relentlessly, or the way his groans just sends shivers down your spine.

“F-Fuck…! Fuck…!Z-Zhongli! I’m—! I’m gonna…!”

“Yes, love...! Haa….come for me…! I’ll fill you up with my seed…”

Once again, you came from the overstimulation—your arms failing as the pleasure was greater than anything you experienced so far.

“F-fuck…YN…a-ah—!”

With that, Zhongli suddenly bit your shoulder as he pumped more of his seed inside of you, which only overflowed from your hole. You mewled at the mixture of pain and pleasure, unable to distinguish the one from the other, but you knew it felt extremely good.

Zhongli was silent for a while as he lapped on the bitemarks he had made. He was glad that he hadn’t bit too hard, but for some reason, he also liked how you were marked as his.

“Allow me to take you to the bedroom,” he whispered to you as you nodded your head groggily. Sleep was beginning to approach you fast.

Unsheathing himself from you, you winced at the sudden feeling of emptiness. But it was immediately remedied by the feeling of his warm body near you as he carried you to your shared bedroom. Slowly, he laid you down on the soft mattress and eventually joined you there, embracing you from the back.

“Let’s rest for now,” he muttered right before your eyelids fell heavy. “We’ll need it for later.”

And he was right.

For the next few days, the two of you tainted every room inside the house (well, except for Yuqing’s bedroom).

From the kitchen where Zhongli fucked you from behind, bending you on the counter as he emptied himself inside of you—to the bathroom where cleaning up turned into another round where he slowly entered you while underwater—or on the floor, which was only because you couldn’t reach the bed because he was too horny for his own good.

It was only then, as the both of you rested from the last round which took all night and early morning, that you realized how much time had passed.

“Mama! Papa! I’m back!”

Your eyes shot open, and glanced at Zhongli who was staring at you as well.

“Oh no.”

[huenjin]

and they were roommates.

summary — who would have thought that a very naked sight of your best friend and a torn shower curtain in the rainiest of weathers could start romance? or in which you start falling for your childhood best friend, lee minho, unaware that he’s always been in love with you.

pairing — lee minho x reader, ft. binsung.

genre — fluff, smut, crack | roommates!au, bff2l!au

rating — 18+

word count — 11k words.

note — smut warnings under the cut, ofc! i suck at making summary adagafga!! but but but, i promise this story is adorable, okay, minus all that smut, my lame humor and those bit of rushed parts? this took forever and i'm so sorry for all that had to wait, especially the one who requested this uwuwu. 

smut warnings — a lot of kissing, a lot of swearing, mentions of naked exposure, fingering, cunnilingus, riding/reader on top, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you snap it), choking. there isn't a loooot of smut either, ah! so enjoy the fluff ride.

"You idiot," you scream, loud enough for your neighbours to hear. You pull out the keys that hang outside in the key hole and pull open the door. "How could you leave the keys outside, Minho?"

"I mean, what if someone stole it?" You throw your keys and Minho's into the small box on a ledge by the door. Removing your shoes, you put on the pair of your house shoes by the side and walk further into the apartment. "Or what if someone broke in? You could get killed, you dumb hoe! Or worse, our new television could get stolen."

You hear no response and just the loud sound of shower running in the bathroom hits the walls of your shared apartment. You walk to your room, passing by the common bathroom, after throwing your bag on the sofa. You talk on the way, yelling in hopes that he would hear.

"Did you walk back in the rain? There's no other reason as to why I did not see you after college. Jisung was searching for you too, Minho."

You change into a pair of shorts and black camisole, pulling your hair up and knotting it, all while your ears pick up the small humming from the bathroom. You shake your head at the fact that since it's Lee Minho in the shower, he is probably going to take his own time to come out. After all, he is the reason why your water bill is so high. 

"Yah, Lee Minho!" You walk outside and hit the door with your fists to bring at least a little of his attention towards you. "Do you want the leftovers or should I get food delivered?"

"Delivery!" he screams back, hearing the shower sounds lower and you yell back in response, "Okay," and walk back to the living room, falling back and plopping down on the comfortable rexine covered sofa. 

Your phone rings in the next minute and you are pulling it from your pocket quickly all because you are bored out of your mind. It is also because your stupid best friend from the god forbidden age of five to till this date, takes forever to get out from the shower.

It's Jisung. Not that you would have a doubt even if you had picked up without looking at the name on the screen — your friend circle is that small. It has just been you, Minho and Jisung majorly for almost three fourth of your life, the other one fourth of it with you having your parents as your best friends. Jisung had always been the annoying kid in the playground that pushed you off the swing because he wanted to play and Minho had always been the knight in shining armour in your local playground, the defender of all things right as he saved you from Jisung's frustrating taunts. 

And then your mother — oh dear, she is the reason why you are still stuck with Minho's rich arse (mostly because she thought too that this is the finest her very antisocial daughter would ever find in a man) — decides that since Lee Minho was so kind to save her poor damsel-like daughter, he might as well do it forever. Fast forward to present day, and you are still cleaning up after him. 

"Did Minho reach home?" Jisung asks as soon as you answer the call. You roll your eyes and shift your position to one that allows you to stretch your leg against the length of the sofa.

"Oh, hi, Y/N," you fake your tone, mocking Jisung's ignorance. "Did you reach home safely? Did you get caught in the rain? Oh no!" And then quickly changing it back to normalcy, "Yes, Jisung. I reached home safely. The rain did get heavy as I walked back home but nothing to worry. Did you reach home safely?"

Jisung is laughing loudly on the other end. "Sorry, Y/N," he makes a weird kissing sound and you pull your phone away from your ear. "I presume Minho's safe at home, else you would be the one to crash my phone with the endless calls in worry of his safety. Ha!"

"He got caught in the rain," you sigh. "I hope he's okay though. I would have mentioned how he was, had he just come out of that goddamn bathroom but no! It almost seems like he is rebuilding the whole bathroom." Jisung laughs so loud that you have to pull the phone away from your ear again. 

"Dude, dude, dude," Jisung calls out for you through the line.

"Yeah?" 

"You and Minho are totally like my parents fighting." 

"Do you want to get punched in your face, Han Jisung?" You sit up straight, folding your leg across each other and bending forward, your elbow digging into your thigh as your hand supports your head. 

"And my boyfriend would punch yours if you punched mine," he huffs and you know he is talking about Seo Changbin. At a good five feet and six inches, the shorter male befriended Jisung and then wooed him over in grade eleven with some weird shining universe experiment for a science project and the Han Jisung you had always known, fell for the gesture immediately. They began dating a week after, making Changbin the only other human being you willingly chose to become closer to.

"Like Minho would let that," you click your tongue and Jisung laughs again, mumbling, "How have you guys not slept with each other yet? You guys are roommates."

"I'll kill you, Han Jisung."

"Like you would." The minute Jisung taunts back, you hear a loud noise of something crashing down and the sound is from the bathroom. You jump upwards, quickly hanging up without even telling Jisung that you were leaving as you drop your phone and rush towards the bathroom, taking huge steps to reach before the door in less than a few seconds.

You slam your fist against the door, over and over again, yelling, "Yah," to draw his attention before asking, "Minho, are you okay? I'm coming in," and you pull open the door to the common bathroom. A decision you wish you had not chosen but one you had to take for his safety.

Before a very surprised you lay a very, very naked Lee Minho, groaning with his back against the cold white tiles of the bathroom, neck lifting his head above to instinctively avoid hitting the floor. His hand holds a huge piece of the shower curtain that he must have tried holding onto before falling and as the colour drains from your face, lips wide apart, staring at your naked best friend in shock who is staring back at you, it dawns upon you quickly.

You immediately slap your hand over your eyes and scream as loud as you could possibly, "Fuck, fuck. I just saw your schlong, oh my god!"

"Are you not going to look at me at all now that you saw my dick?"

Minho rolls his eyes at you as a soft groan leaves his lip while he tries to make himself more comfortable on his bed. This time, he is fully clothed, black shirt over his torso and navy blue shorts. You are sitting on a small chair by his side, Chinese herbal medicinal mix in a white ceramic bowl, a tub filled with warm water and a towel and long white bandages on the table by the bed. The Chinese herbal medicinal mix was something your mother specifically ordered you to prepare for the boy before you.

You hand him a cup of warm water first which he takes and is about to swallow it down when you look at the wooden bedpost behind him and mumble, "But I saw your womb raider." Minho chokes on the water before coughing and you quickly pat his back which leads him to cry softly in pain and you are left apologising over and over again for being reckless.

He places the cup on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he narrows his eyes at you and questions, "Womb raider? What the fuck?"

"You know, your schlong," you look away, heat rising up to your cheek. "I saw your schlong, a womb raider."

"I can't believe you call a dick that," he groans, rolling his eyes as if he has completely given up on you, "After having your womb raided enough by many womb raiders."

You look away, taking the ceramic bowl in your hand and mumbling, "None of them were long and thick enough to be called a womb raider though."

"Did you say anything, Y/N?" 

"Nothing," you yell and glare at him, cheeks still hot with the image still vivid in your head. "You can't look disappointed in me," you frown at him, "I should be disappointed. You tore the shower curtain."

"It was a mistake!" Minho gasps and tries to sit up but quickly ditches the plan when he feels the spin surge through him. You place the bowl back on the table and push yourself forward to help Minho sit up, your arms wrapped around his waist, your chest against his as you slowly pull him up. Minho explains himself, "If I didn't hold onto that, I would have gotten injured worse. I'm almost perfect now. It's just the slight—" You press your palm against his back and he seethes in pain.

"Slight pain, indeed," you scoff and finally let him rest against the bedpost. "This should do the magic though." You lift the ceramic bowl again and wave it before him, shoving the weird smelling green substance right in front of his nose. "My mother totally said it would work. She also said that you would have to be on the bed resting the whole day."

"You'll be my maid the whole day," Minho lights up, face instantly shining and you sigh, "Do I have an option? After this day though, we are going to buy shower curtains and you are going to pay for it because you tore it." You accuse him and he clicks his tongue.

"Fine."

"Remove your shirt now," you order and he looks at you, a teasing glint glistening in his eyes and he smiles, moving slightly closer.

"Why? Are you going to call my abs washboard now? That you could do laundry on them?" He purses his lips and leans forward and you push him back, his aching back hitting the bedpost again and Minho is crying with pain on the soft impact, albeit this time, you worry if it is fake. "Y/N," he cries, clamping down against his lower teeth hard, "Can you go easy on me?"

"Then stop teasing me!"

"Fine!" He huffs and looks away, "Help me out of this shirt now."

"What? Why? You put the shirt on fine. Can't you remove it on your own?" You question him, the ceramic bowl securely on your lap. Minho stares at you for the longest time ever and you stare back.

Has his eyes always been this tender? Has his skin always been this soft? Was Lee Minho always this charming and pretty to look at?

This is all because you saw his stupidly good dick, argh!

Minho finally answers, "It's harder to remove a shirt than to wear it." You shake your head and your eyes narrow to crinkled slits as you watch your best friend for a second more before placing the crucible back on the table and bending yourself forward to hold tightly the ends of his black shirt. You lift the black material up and remove it from his torso, exposing his abdomen and chest to the warm breeze in the air. 

He stares at you and you stare at him back, only till you take the white ceramic bowl again and hopefully the last time and you raise an eyebrow at him, mocking him, "Aren't you going to give me the classic Wattpad naked white male line?"

"What line?" 

He looks confused and you laugh, holding the bowl tightly, "You know, the—" You try to lower the pitch of your voice and to sound as cocky as possible, smirking, "Like what you see, baby girl?"

Minho laughs with you till he calms himself down a little, tilts his head and in the most guttural voice you have ever heard your best friend ever go, he repeats, "Like what you see, my baby girl?"

Your heart should not have sped up. Your fingers should not have tightened against the cold white crucible. You should not have pressed your thighs against each other. You should not have had your throat dried up at his very words. But it did and you are staring at Lee Minho in an angle you had never seen him. 

When did that stupid five year old boy who thought he could save the whole world grow up into this man?

"Uh, Y/N," Minho waves his hand in front of you, trying to bring your attention back. "Are you going to apply the medicine or? I mean, it's cold."

"Oh yeah," you stutter. "Yeah, yeah, I was about to. Can you turn back so that I can apply it on your back?"

"Yeah," he nods and pressing his hands into the mattress, he shifts himself, turning a one hundred and eight degrees away from you so that his back is facing yours. "This okay?"

"Yeah," you agree. You bend your arm forward to take the cloth soaked in warm water and you press it against his back. Minho bites his tongue in pain, eyes watering before he can't take it anymore and he turns back to face you. 

"Minho?"

"Can I do that thing you allowed me to do whenever I was in pain and you had to take care of me?" He asks, unsure, "Am I allowed?"

You nod, softly, smiling warmly at the man before you and you lift the chair up slightly. Minho quickly wraps his arms around your waist, his face buried into your soft chest as he edges closer to you. You place the warm cloth again on his broad back and Minho does what he has always done to combat pain.

He bites into your flesh softly, hard enough to trigger something weird within you at this age but soft enough to not cause any pain. 

Your eyes widen and your thighs tighten a bit but Minho is unaware to all this as he snuggles into your warmth, head fuzzy with the pain that throbs through his entire back. After a few minutes, you place the cloth back on the table and hold the crucible tightly. You dig your forefinger and middle finger into the green mix before applying it on his back, soft circles to calm him down and Minho lets go of your flesh, although he still continues to snuggle into you, his thick arms tightening around your frame.

"You're comfortable to hug," he mumbles as you apply the medicine all over his back, his face occasionally pressing against your breast and you gulp, reminding yourself that this is your best friend, that this is the kid you've seen in all his embarrassments. 

"Of course, I am," you laugh. "It doesn't pain that much, does it?"

"Not anymore."

"Good," and you apply another layer over the existing one. "Because if you say anything else to my mother, I swear to God, Lee Minho, I will—"

You don't complete. Minho laughs — soft, precious laughter that fills the air and engages your ears. He tilts his head to look up at you from his lower angle. You look down only to come in direct vision of his bright, glistening eyes that hold the stars behind them and his oh-so-flawless skin that you are envious of. Your heart beat escalates and you are about one hundred percent sure that Minho is aware. After all, he did have his ear against your chest in this position. 

"Fine, fine," his voice is airy and you could listen to it the whole day. "I'll tell your mother that her daughter took care of me perfectly, alright?"

"Perfect," you smile. "Now sit up straight. I need to bandage you up, just in case." Minho begrudgingly pulls back, a soft whimper leaving his lips before he huffs, folding his arms and sitting straight, looking you in the eyes and you gulp. 

"I'll be fine in a day, Y/N," Minho whines and you shake your head, mumbling, "Just in case." You turn your body to grab hold of the white roll of bandage before you beckon for him to come a little closer as you wrap the bandage over his torso, covering the medicinal herbs sticking to his body now. 

"You, in fact," you chuckle as you tighten the bandage and Minho seethes in pain at having his muscles pressed. You rub his hair affectionately before continuing, "You, Lee Minho, should be ready enough to cash out money for the shower curtain."

"Fine, fine, fine," Minho huffs only to break out into a smile as he looks at you. "We'll go as soon as I don't think I'll die if I stand up and straighten my back, okay?"

"Perfect," you laugh and pull yourself away from your best friend, clipping the bandage in the exact manner. You help him lie back against the soft mattress. You pick up the crucible and the tub of water as you stand up. 

"Y/N," Minho calls out for you and you turn, your head gliding against the joint and your eyebrows rising up in question.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he smiles, eyes closed and face so soft that you do want to hold it.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me, doofus. What would I have done had you not been there? You are my knight in shining armour now."

You laugh but your heart is furiously beating against your chest, thrumming against it so loudly that you can hear the beats. Your cheeks flush with heat and you look away, mumbling, "It's nothing," and walk away. You close the door quickly and fall against the vast wooden door finally, away from his presence and you hold the bowls close to you.

Fuck. When did your heart start beating this hard for the same man that you once knew as the stupid five year old with elephant print trunks? When did your heart start thrumming so loudly against your chest for your only best friend?

Either ways, you are doomed. Inevitably.

Jisung: baby, i think it's about time Changbin: for what? Jisung: you know, how we always said those two should probably fuck Changbin: yeah? Jisung: the sexual tension is too high. can we get it over with already and have them date already? Changbin: you've been trying this forever and you failed. Jisung: don't remind me. you're my boyfriend, support me. Changbin: fine! go, sungie!! i love you either way though.

It is exactly three days after the I-exposed-my-cock incident that Lee Minho agrees to go with you to buy the shower curtains. 

"Can't we just buy it online?" He had whined, arms folding against each other as he scrolled through his phone. You stand by the sofa, head shaking in disappointment as you reason back, frustrated, "The material," and you hit his arm. Minho winces. "The material is important. I won't compromise on that. Plus, you promised that you would come with me to buy something that you tore. Isn't that only fair?"

Minho does so. After bargaining with him for one tub full of mint chocolate ice cream that you will never understand why he loves so much. 

That is exactly how you find yourself here in this shop, shopping cart in your hand and Minho by your side.

"We are only buying the shower curtain," you tell him, staring at the half full shopping cart. "So I don't understand why we need all these."

Minho smiles sheepishly at you. He then points at the two tubs of ice cream and says, "One for you, and one for me. I even chose your favorite flavor!" He continues to point at each article and tell why he needs them very articulately and you stand there in surprise before breaking his speech.

"Fine, fine!" You push the cart ahead. "Now let's just go and get what we came here for." Minho follows you, his one hand on the shopping cart handle to keep pace with you. The two of you stop right in front of the array of curtains in different colours, some on display and some packaged and you smile, whispering under your breath, "Tada." Minho looks at you softly, at the small voice of joy that escapes your lips and he just watches you light up in fascination at something as simple as shower curtains.

Fuck, he loves your domesticity.

"Let's take this," Minho announces as he stretches his arms out to hold onto a pretty blue shower curtain. You hold it in between your fingers feeling the texture before announcing, "No."

"But why?" Minho whines, following your footsteps as you hold onto another shower curtain. 

"Because it's polythene," you frown at your best friend. Minho looks at you, confused, his eyebrows furrowing as they look at you like you have grown another pair of hands and legs.

"And so?"

"You could tear it again!"

"It happened once," he sighs, frustrated. "Once. It's not like I'm waiting to fall in the shower, tear the curtain and have you see my dick all the time, babe."

Your cheeks flush at his announcement and the tag he calls you by, your eyes looking away from his pretty face for a split second. Minho shakes his hand, taking a step forward to check a few other shower curtains out when the two of you hear a very familiar voice from behind, in the most professional manner ever.

"Sir, the one you chose is perfect. It is very durable and doesn't stain on contact with water—"

"Han Jisung?" Minho turns, the words of shock leaving his mouth almost instantly. You turn impulsively, eyes wide.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here?"

"Hey," you narrow your eyes at the other male. "I could file a report for bad customer service about now, Sungie."

He folds his arms and looks at the two of you suspiciously, "What are you guys doing here?" He raises an eyebrow at you, scoffing at you, "Like you would."

"What does it look like we're doing here, Sungie?" You bite back jokingly and Jisung laughs, gaze shifting between the two of you.

"I don't know," he runs a hand through his hair before folding his arms again, his fluorescent yellow uniform crumbling with the shift in his arms. "Is this some sort of a new way to date?"

"We aren't—" You quickly start when Minho pulls a curtain forward and breaks your sentence before you can complete as he asks Jisung, "This isn't polythene, is it?"

"Are you stupid?" Jisung frowns before he laughs. "That's clearly polythene. Minho, dude, you're a chemical engineering student. You have got to be kidding me if you can't identify polythene."

Minho doesn't pay heed to Jisung's words. You, on the other hand, stare at your best friend who walks away from you to examine more shower curtains. Did Lee Minho really ask Jisung, a literature student, whether that was polythene — What in the world?

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N?" Jisung snaps your attention back to the present. "Are you going to buy shower curtains today?"

"Yeah?"

"But your shower curtains were fine the last time I came home." You understand Jisung's surprise because the last time he did come home was five days back and the shower curtain was in a perfect condition. "What happened?"

You stretch your arms and point at Minho. The very culprit rolls his eyes before raising his eyebrows and sighing, voicing in the most dramatic voice you have ever heard Minho take, "Yes, Y/N. Yes, Ji. It's me. I tore the shower curtain because I fell in the shower."

"Ouch," Jisung acknowledges Minho's injury before walking past the two of you and taking a shower curtain. "Here's one. You might like this, Y/N."

"It's not PVC, Sungie."

Jisung wants to hit your head, terribly. Perhaps it's your adamance that is the reason as to why your friendship is this tight and strong but in moments like these, he likes Minho more. Minho stands by the side, arms folded and back resting against the wall as he trusts your judgement.

"Are you not going to tell her anything?"

"She handles all this at home. Give her what she wants, Ji," he laughs, fiddling with a few more shower curtains by his side. Jisung shakes his head in disappointment before mumbling, a soft frustrated groan leaving his lips as he throws his head back, "Definitely a married couple," and takes a few polyvinyl chloride made shower curtains. 

"Here," he presses his lips. "Don't blame me if the designs aren't that great. You don't get that many good designs in PVC. People go for polythene because it's more available."

"PVC doesn't tear and it's easy to clean!"

"Seconding this as a chemical engineering student," Minho chirps in from behind. You and Jisung turn to look at the man who is on his phone currently and shake your head lightly. "What?"

"He remembers his major now!" Jisung clicks his tongue. "All say, praise the Lord."

"I'm agnostic." You frown.

"More reasons for you to say it easily!"

You find a plain one in the ones he showed you and you take it. Jisung smiles finally, mumbling, "You're a frustrating customer."

"Nah," you scoff. Minho pushes himself off the wall as soon as he sees you done with the selection. "I just know what I want exactly. You, on the other hand, sweetheart," you poke his chest and Jisung chuckles. "You're a pathetic salesperson."

"Of course," he laughs the insult away. "I'm a literature student. I should be working in a publishing company as a part timer."

Minho takes the shower curtain from your hand and puts it in the cart by the side. He comes back, throwing his arm over Jisung's shoulder and frowns, "Apparently publishing companies care a lot more about who your parents are than your resume."

"It's just that publishing company," the other male looks down. "I'll try applying for another one soon."

"Do you want to grab a drink at our place tonight?"

"Can I?"

"Sure," Minho agrees. He drops his arm from Jisung's shoulder and holds the cart handle back, pushing it forward slightly. You take big strides to stand by Minho's side, also holding the handle slightly. Jisung raises his eyebrows at the two of you and with a smile that you don't think twice about, Jisung laughs.

"I'm coming over tonight."

"Sure," you throw your thumbs up at him, stretching your arm. Minho smiles softly at you, his eyes lingering a little longer at your happy figure and he feels his heart beat a little quicker at your sight. Your hair strands framing your face so beautifully, eyes shining the minute you find the exact thing you've had in your mind and your lips curving upwards in joy. 

Lee Minho finds the calmness that spring brings him every year in him all over again with you by his side.

"Bring the soju. Beer is on us!"

Jisung: binnie, binnie!! Changbin: yes, baby? Jisung: i think i have a plan. Changbin: let them be, babe. Jisung: we let them be all these years! they pinned after each other without even knowing and we had to see that painfully! Changbin: i guess you make a valid point there Jisung: is it going to rain today? Changbin: it's been raining for the last few days, sungie. it could. just because i study geography as my minor doesn't mean i can forecast weather. hey! Jisung: fine~ i'm going to get them to confess tonight 👀 Changbin: don't mess up. istg Jisung: trust me 🥺 Changbin: i do. more than ever ❤️

Jisung reaches your doorstep at sharp nine. With two bottles of soju in his hands, you see the stains of the droplets of rain falling onto his shoulder. 

It is drizzling for now and you worry if it is to rain heavily in a few minutes as the forecast mentioned. You hate the thunder. You hate how the weather changes drastically and worsens to a point that it frightens you and makes you anxious. It's a phobia you have managed to hide from everyone for fears of being treated weaker.

Jisung makes himself at home. He always has. He places the soju bottles on the kitchen countertop and Minho smiles to himself as he walks towards the point where Jisung has happily seated himself. Minho and you are on the other end of the counter while Jisung sits on the adjustable chair, swirling in it before stopping and facing you, Minho and the bottles of soju before him.

"Did it finally hit him?"

"I think?" You whisper back.

"I'm right here!" Jisung yells and you smile. Minho pulls the chair from under the counter and sits himself opposite the other male, pressing his lips together and trying to not laugh. He opens the bottle of soju after shaking it and hitting it against his elbow for a while. It clinks open, the metal hitting the glass before falling onto the table and you watch the two, as Minho pours a drink for Jisung.

He downs it in one go, letting out a loud sigh before stretching his arms and demanding a second one.

"Go easy, Sungie. You have the whole night."

"I don't," he huffs. "Now, please."

Minho pours it again before looking at you and you shake your head to indicate that you wouldn't mind a few. You grab hold of one of the empty cups on the counter before stretching your arm too. Minho laughs – a soft chuckle, so airy and light that you find yourself holding your breath for a small second there – and he pours you your drink. 

You twirl your drink, watching the liquid glide against the surface of the cup. Your best friend gets up and walks a little into the kitchen to open the fridge and grab a box of leftovers of fried chicken that you bought a few days ago. He pulls open the microwave to heat it and as he waits, he turns to look back at Jisung and asks him finally.

"Do you want me to drop a word to my uncle?"

"About?"

"He heads the Cheongsam Publication," Minho reveelas, pulling out the chicken from the microwave. He places it before the two of you and almost like you and Jisung were zoomed in, in an American sitcom, both of you gasp dramatically.

"Am I really your best friend?" Jisung yells and you narrow your eyes at Minho. Faking tears in his eyes, he persists in questioning,  "Do I not matter to you, Minho?"

"Why are you rooming with me when you could possibly afford a whole room on your own?"

"Yes, Jisung," Minho sighs and sits back on his chair. You bend forward, arms folded against the table as you stare at your best friend in betrayal. "Also, Y/N, don't you love having me around?"

He laughs and rests his head on your shoulder suddenly, causing you to stiffen them in response. Your eyes drift to the left, trying to not make it overtly obvious that Minho's sudden reaction has taken you by surprise. Your eyes land forward on Jisung who looks at you as if he knew this all along, as if he wanted exactly this. The man has a goddamn smirk plastered on his face.

Jisung downs two more shots and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, mumbling, "Slow the fuck down. No one's chasing you."

"Yeah, my goddamn plan," he mumbles before coughing and taking another. Minho sits up straight, finally lifting his head from your shoulder. He stretches his arm to pat Jisung's shoulder in comfort.

"I'll drop a word."

"Now, don't you dare go and say that you want to earn it and all that bullshit," you sigh. "It's the fucking Republic Of Korea. Nepotism is the norm."

"Not planning on saying that," Jisung glares at you. Clearly, Jisung is slightly tipsy, having been the only person to keep drinking. You and Minho opt to just watch over Jisung for the night. Your best friend puckers his lips in Minho's direction and blowing kisses, he says, "I love you, Minho."

"Changbin wouldn't like you saying that to another man though," you scoff and Jisung flips you the middle finger before downing one more and standing up. The thunder rattles the three of you exactly then and you grip the table, face turning pale instantly. Minho's attention darts to you quickly in concern.

"You okay?" You hum in response, unconvincingly though to Minho whose gaze lingers on you in worry for just a while more. That is, till Jisung rips it away by dramatically placing the back of his hand on his forehead and playing the damsel in distress as he gasps so loudly, staring at the big window.

"It's raining heavily," he sighs and you shudder, afraid of another thunderstorm as you grip tightly on the side of the table.

"So?" Minho asks, both eyebrows raised at the man before him, looking at the two of you with doe eyes.

"I'm staying over, thanks," he rushes and runs to your bedroom, quickly shutting the door and latching it and you and Minho stare at each other. As soon as the realisation of what could happen dawns over you, you rush to your closed bedroom, fists banging against the wooden door.

"Yah, Han Jisung," you turn to look at Minho who watches you in amusement. "Open the fucking door."

"No. I don't want to go back home in the rain. You and Minho can share the bed. I am never opening the door. Good night."

"What the fuck? Yah, Sungie, stop acting like a child. Open the door now." You hear no response. "Sungie? Answer me. Open the door please." Minho walks over to you, and tries knocking too, in vain however because Jisung has no plans to open the door.

You look at Minho, the man slightly towering you as he stands by your side and you gasp. You had to share the bed with the same man you just realised you could, perhaps, have developed feelings for?

"Fuck."

Jisung: it finally seems to be working, binnie! luck's on my side this time. Changbin: oh baby. just please don't be disappointed if it doesn't work out this time either. Jisung: i won't be because it's definitely going to work out. eeeee! i'm so excited! 

Another thunderstorm ripples through the air.

Your heart beats quicker in anxiety, eyes squeezing shut as you grip tightly on the pillow, a light whimper leaving your lips. You feel the mattress shuffling underneath you and in the next minute, your ears are covered by Minho's hands. You stiffen as he edges closer to you, his chin resting on your shoulder as his palm pressed against your pinna, covering your ear completely to protect you from the loud sounds of the thunder.

"Minho, what—"

His hand on your right ear slightly shifts to the side as he bends forward to whisper into your ear, to amplify the sounds enough as a way to distract you.

"You never ever told me you were scared of thunderstorms."

Lee Minho is way too close to you to think straight. You feel his body pressed against your back, heat radiating from him to you through your oversized hoodie. His breath is harsh against your skin as he leans close to whisper into your ear. And all this in an attempt to forget the thunderstorm.

So far, it's working like magic. 

Your voice is almost small when you inform him, "We never happened to be in the same place during one," and Minho swears to God, he could lose it completely. All the self control to not confess and take you there is so ready to be shoved out of the window that all he can do is try and focus on worrying about your fears.

"I'll protect you," he mumbles so softly that you turn around to look at him. His eyes are bright in the soft lights in his room and as he lies by your side, so close that you can hear his heart that beats faster and his breath that is shallow, your lips part and you watch him.

You are fully justified for falling in love with this man. 

A man that tells you he'd protect you from your fears, god alone knows how, but the fact that they don't seem like empty words. A man that you know like the back of your hand and the same man that seems to have protected you all throughout your life, even if you have done the same. It was inevitable. Falling for Lee Minho is inevitable.

And that's why you kiss him. Because you're in love with him so badly that all you can zero in is him, him, him.

Your lips press against his, so softly for a split second. As if you are unsure. As if you know you could be ruining years of friendship over something the two of you could consider a mistake. 

You kiss him and suddenly it's the only thing that matters to you right now. Him, him, him. Your lips are slow and soft against him. It is almost as if you are reminding yourself that there has been nothing more morbidly right than this. To fall in love with your best friend. Minho's hand slowly lifts up to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breath mingles only for a split second — one filled with hesitance and uncertainty — before you pull away, looking at your best friend.

It is just a second of a kiss and with Minho so stiff by your side, you panic, and ramble. "I'm sorry. I should have thought it could be unrequited. I like you and I should have asked—”

Minho crashes his lips on yours, so quickly that it takes your breath away and cuts your sentence in half, but you don't care. He pulls you towards him, hands cupping your face tightly and angling it to kiss you, encasing your lower lips in his as he moves against your pink ones. You let out a small gasp as you deepen the kiss, running your fingers down his spine, holding him as close as possible until there is no space left between the two of you. It is just you and him in this small room. Just you and him in focus. You can feel the beating of his heart against your chest. Loud, clear and unknown to you that it beats for you in this minute. That it has always been beating for you.

Minho presses his tongue to the seam of your lips and, the minute you let him in, he delves inside your mouth, tongue chasing after yours. Minho kisses you like he has finally achieved the greatest thing ever and he never wants to let it go. Minho kisses like he loves you and you feel it. You feel every ounce of it.

Your arms move up his back and tangle around his thick, strong neck. Playing with the ends of his roots, you suck on his lower lips before he pulls away and finally tells you, "I've always been in love with you, Y/N. Always."

Kissing you again, his thumb digs into the skin by your jaw as he delves deeper, as if he never wants to let you go. The air in the room heats up when your hand moves under his shirt, feeling his muscles under your skin and you moan against his lips. Minho lets go of your lips only to kiss the side of it and then your cheeks and then your jugular before he is littering kisses all over your neck. You moan explicitly, gripping on him and slightly grinding on his thigh. You feel your core heating up, arousal sticking to your panties and all you can think is,

“I want you.”

Minho swears to God that he has always loved confident women but when you shattered right before him and built your confidence right back up — that is the hottest thing he swears he has seen. That, and the fact that you had always been hot before his eyes.

“Really?” Minho lifts himself up and hovers on top of you.

“Really,” you decide to respond before you cup his face and pull his face closer to yours. You don't pull him in for a kiss just yet. Your eyes zero on him, trying to cancel out the loud thunderstorms in the background and just focus on the man before you that you love, that you've been in love unknowingly for a while. 

You just hold his face and learn. You try to remember every single detail of his face that you never focussed on before.

You realise over again that his eyes are your favourite thing. They are black as charcoal and yet still shimmer as if stars are trapped and enclosed beneath them. And when he narrows them to look at you with a daze, your heart throbs and you gulp. They make your heart hurt whenever they fix on you.

You know his skin is soft as you touch. As creamy and velvety as they are, you can't stop touching him. 

His mouth is a pretty shade of coral, plump and pouty and honestly so kissable it hurts to look at it for more than a few seconds. You wonder how you haven't driven yourself to kiss him yet. All these years.

Everything about his face is soft and delicate, that is till he turns a little to the side and angles it perfectly, his head backward and you can clearly see the sharpness of his jawline; the distinct manly cut that makes your mouth dry and your heart beat faster. 

“You are perfect,” you gulp, your eyes back on him and Minho smiles widely. His warm breath caresses your face and his forehead is pressed against yours immediately.

“You know what else is perfect, baby?”

“No,” your voice is airy, even though you already know what he is going to say. You know it and yet the thought causes your heart to skip a bit, and flutter a lot in your chest.

“You and everything you have to offer. You are not average. You are one of the most perfect women I've seen in my whole life, Y/N,” he says. As soon as the words spill from his mouth, your lips are on his, claiming his mouth, the same ones that whispered into your ear that there is nothing to be afraid when he's right there by your side.

He gasps loudly as your hands leave his face and move to his hair to pull him down towards you — you need him so close to you. Your fingers get lost in his thick locks as you tug on them, forcing him to bend a lot forward and gladly welcome the intrusion of your tongue.

His lips are as soft as feathers and they feel like what you think heaven feels like. The warmth you experience is so much more than the tingle of first kisses and those innocent butterflies have nothing on the wanting void of a pit in your nether regions and the slick in between your thighs. 

His hands slide down from your hips to reach behind your back and pull you upwards, only to tightly clasp around the curve of your bottom cheeks.

“Minho,” you groan against his lips after he pulls away from you. His lips are red and swollen, slick and shining with your saliva and so incredibly inviting you all over again and you fear that you may never want to stop kissing him for as long as you are breathing. You fear getting too addicted to this human – more than you already are – to a point where you need to be attached to him by the hip, to never let go of him.

Minho's lips move from your swollen lips to the curve of your jaw, down to the curved edges of your neck, sucking and kissing every exposed skin. 

His hand moves from your clothed arse to under your hoodie, hand pressed against your back as he pulls you closer and forwards, until your chests are pressed against one another. His mouth is everywhere and god, you feel infinite and powerful.

His lips hover on yours. He smiles widely and you think it's cute. He inches his chin forward, flicking your nose a little with his own, a shy smile on his lips as he silently asks the permission to claim your lips anew; all over again.

You nod your head to signal yes. You hold your breath and your eyes flutter shut, awaiting him and his warmth.

Minho's kiss is slow and delicate at first. It is drawn out in a way that makes you want more, so much more, that you want to pull him in and suck the life out of him and yet, at the same time, it is precious and laced with not only the passion of the moment but also the tenderness of a first time together.

It makes your insides twitch and your heart lunge and it fogs up all of your thoughts to the point you feel yourself drowning in the sensation of his lips, pressed tightly on your own. 

Your heart is beating quicker than ever in your chest, against your ribs, and you pull him even closer, so tight your chests have no choice but to heave against each other with every single breath you take. You don’t want to let him go, not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

Minho is something you desperately want to hold onto in your life. He knows your secrets, your everything. He knows what you like and how you like it. He seems to know everything and the thought of letting him go aches your heart and constraints your throat with a sob you wouldn't dare to let out. You want him to be completely yours.

And these thoughts turn you desperate. They force you to make the kiss deeper, to lick his lips and bite them down, to gulp down every sigh and whimper that comes out of him and make them your own. To make him yours.

Your eyes flutter shut, taking in the way his mouth moves over yours, arching further into him. You groan into his mouth and his grip on your back tightens instantly.

“I want you so much, Minho,” you whimper against him after your lips part from his. You lick your lips and gaze at him with your partially closed eyes. “So fucking much.”

“Then, have me. Take me,” Minho purrs against your exposed skin. In a minute, he pulls the oversized hoodie over you, leaving you in just your undergarments as he discards it to the side. His mouth moves over the skin above your breasts and his hand traces the bra you are wearing. He gazes at it and mumbles before latching his mouth back on your skin, “You are so fucking beautiful. Always have been.”

You gleam in pride and your body arches at the contact of his mouth on your skin. Your hands are on the side of his face as you pull him away.

“Can I?”

“Have me? Yes. Completely,” he smiles. He wonders if you are confident. That's all that he hopes when you look at him so unsure and so doubtingly. 

You wet your lips again quickly, your breath coming out in hot puffs of air. Your hands immediately rush to his top, roughly pushing it above. Minho helps you out and pulls it completely away. You are blinded by the passion burning inside of you, your hands eager to explore and touch every expanse of his glowing skin. You want to touch, feel, have a complete experience. You want Minho to remind you of everything you are missing out on.

Your lips attack his neck in a hurry, all rough and passionate on his tender, soft skin, blooming red roses that turn purple against it. You repeat your actions till he’s softly moaning out your name, almost purring them out that you feel yourself becoming slicker. His hands on your back pull you closer and into him so that you won’t stop tainting his flesh and slowly, his soul, in the best ways possible.

Minho whines and sighs and grunts for you. He doesn't hold himself back as his lips leave appreciation for who you are. He closes his eyes as he parts his lips to whimper out your name with every new thing you find that excites him and it drives you absolutely insane. 

You know you should not but you can’t stop wondering how he would sound like as you fuck him hard, rock on his cock to milk his orgasm, make him beg not to stop. You desperately want to break him and draw all these nice sounds out of him, but you know it would most probably be the other way round. Minho allows you to take control occasionally but you know he wants the lead. He wants to be the one to break you apart and pull you back together. 

He pulls back from you, his hands leaving your back and resting on either of your sides. Minho's dark hair brushes over his crescent lidded eyes and nearly shields the hungry, desperate gaze of them. His hand plays with the strap of your panties as his gaze flickers between affection and lust. He cocks his head to the side before asking, “You do want this, right?”

You nod, hoping it would be enough and that he would resume.

“I need to hear you say it out loud, baby,” he firmly says and you gulp.

“Yes, yes. Minho, fuck, I want this. I need this,” you whine, your eyes glassy, as you grip his forearm to lift yourself up and grate and move against the evident bulge on his jeans. 

Minho merely needs that verbal confirmation. He pulls away your panties, resting on your hips and you groan. Still hovering above you and his hands over your pubic mound, his fingers trail lower and you tug at your lower lip in anticipation. Easily, he finds your clit, and begins to rub in slow, languid, lazy motion, up and down, waiting for the moan he so loves to hear from you to spill from your mouth. He grins when he hears those little whimpers and you feel your legs lose mobility from the pleasure he brings you with just a flick of his finger. 

Your back slightly arches off the soft mattress upon the bed when his finger leaves your clit to draw a line up your wet slit, collecting as much of your arousal as he can before slipping his glistening fingers out to admire them in the light. Your cheeks taint pink in embarrassment.

“Fuck,” Minho moans, taking his coated finger into his mouth to suck your juices from it. His eyes flutter shut as if he’s tasting the sweetest aphrodisiac ever known and your lips part at this sight. Lee Minho looks irresistible and you want him, completely.

“God,” he groans. Minho slides himself down your body until he’s in level with your pussy. His eyes gazed at it in sheer adoration and your hand slapped against your mouth. He takes two fingers to spread your lips apart for a better view. “You’re dripping, baby girl.”

You wail as he drags a finger up and down your slit, playfully teasing your fold, making you whine his name out loud. The way you plead for him, beg for him, grind down on his teasing fingers, all set a fire inside you. This has been what you had been craving for so long. The ability of this man to cloud your thoughts and set your body on fire makes you yearn for him even more.

“Minho,” you cry out, whimpering underneath him. “Fingers. I need you. Please, Minho.”

You gasp, your voice airy, when the tip of his finger tentatively slips into you while your fingers dig at his shoulders between your thighs. “Minho, I want you. I just really want you. I need to feel you. Please.”

He drags his finger out of you before you clutch onto him, feeling the need to be overwhelmed. He presses his thumb on your clit and a whimper leaves your mouth. 

“Minho.” And he slides his digit in again almost as if on cue. He pumps his finger in and out of you as his thumb harshly rubs circles on your clit. Your hand leaves your mouth and grabs your hair as the other digs further into his shoulder. 

His mouth leaves hot air against the skin covering your acetabulum and you shudder. His lips graze from there till your thigh before biting on them, sucking them deliriously and leaving you as a whimpering mess.

“Minho, fuck!” You scream, your fingers grabbing your hair to hold control of your body. 

“That's it, baby,” he says against the skin of your thighs. “How I've wanted those beautiful lips to scream out my name from when I've felt them.”

Minho adds another finger and your eyes are screwed shut as he curls them within you and you gasp at the feeling of being widened. You are elated and you feel your arousal leaking down your thighs. He rubs your inside and your clitoris faster and you push your hips towards him, moving with his pace. Minho is also leaving beautiful purple marks in a trail on your thigh and you gape in awe.

You find it all too much. Your emotions are all over the place and your hormones rise up. The movement of his fingers inside you and around your clit, his lips attacking your erogenous spots, kissing, biting and licking short stripes on them. It finally gets to you and you scream his name out in pleasure. Your first orgasm comes crashing down upon you, blinding you. You release all over his fingers and Minho helps you ride out your high as he drags his finger repeatedly but this time, slower than what had been. 

Your head lifts up and hits the pillow slightly as it tilts away. Minho moves upwards, hovering over your face and smiles. You smile back. You are so happy and you do not know how to put it into words.

“Minho?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks?”

“For what?” He looks at you quizzically. 

“That was my first orgasm in months now that wasn't brought about by my own fingers,” you smile wearily and Minho leans forwards and kisses your forehead.

"Should have come to me," he laughs.

"Didn't know if I'd be ruining our friendship."

"Pfft," he scoffs, before kissing you again, his lips gliding against yours and piecing in as if they were always meant to be against yours. "I've been in love with you forever."

"Took me a while to know my own feelings," you mumbles. “Also,” you continue, hoping he listens to your request. “Can I . . . ride you?”

Minho is stunned. There are so many things about you that stuns him and maybe it's the way you try to take control that make you look so much hotter before his eyes. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you plead. “If that is not a bother to you.”

“Why would it? Your wish is my command, but only for this night. Next time, my love, we do this my way,” he teases and winks and your core throbs at his words.

Minho pulls himself away from your body, pulling his shirt over his head and his denim down and away. As he flings his clothes aside and relaxes against the mattress, his cock springs free against his stomach, leaking with milky precum. You sit up beside the space Minho has taken over and watch him and his cock deliriously and lustfully.

You sit up, crawling over to straddle his lap, nervousness setting into your stomach. You’re really doing this. You gulp and swallow the saliva as you look at Minho, whose gaze gives you comfort and confidence. The muscles in your arm stiffens as you grip his shoulder for stability and Minho notices.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you, sensing your reluctance and worry. He pushes back the stray hair falling over your eyes. “You're doing wonderful, babygirl. You are finally all mine. What a pretty girl and all to myself now."

You nod, biting down on your lower lip, and tugging at it harshly, cheeks heating up at his words, arousal gushing out as you look down before aligning with his cock. You want this. You needed this release.

As your folds, dripping with thick, sticky arousal, brush the tip of his hardened cock, you feel a shudder run down your spine. You instinctively allow yourself to lower further, taking the rest of him in you swiftly with the help of your arousal. Sinking down around his dick and feeling him fully wrapped around your clutching walls has you moaning out his name, gasping and panting for air, “Fuck, Minho.”

You rock your hips into him, trying this as you picture it to be, already finding yourself tightening and clenching around his thick length. He fills you up so nicely, stuffing you perfectly full and you salivate. Your lips parts and you find your hips moving on their own accord.

As much as Minho wants to give you complete power over this, it isn't like him and he wishes he could be better. Minho takes your hips in his hands, taking control of your movements to raise you up, leaving you empty and whining. You clench around nothing but air and your own walls, desperate to sink back down. “Minho,” you whine, your lower lip puckers forwards and you feel sad.

As his hand grip around your hips to get a better hold, he slams you back down on his cock, hard, causing you to scream. “Minho, ah!”

He continuously guides you in a rhythmic movement, throwing his head back into his pillows and groaning. You are glad he is helping you out because you know you could not have done it on your own after having just ridden out your high.

The sheen of sweat glistening on his chest catches your eye as he pants. The way his eyes clenched shut and his mouth hangs open with pleasure only makes you move faster around his cock. The sight before you makes you want to see him fucked out further. You want him to crumble under you because of you. 

You ride him, bouncing on his dick and clenching when you feel yourself reaching your climax for the second time that night. Minho’s finger moves down and slips between your sweat soaked bodies to rub your clit, pushing you even further over the edge. Minho knows how to make a woman putty in his hands and you are a living witness of this.

“Are you going to come?” He asks, breathlessly, his voice airy and light, almost floating away. He pulls his head forward to kiss your collarbones, sucking harsh bruises against your skin, continuing further down the existing purple bruises.

“Y-Yes,” you sigh, lacing your fingers through his hair and tugging on the dark strands. “Mhm, fuck, you feel so good, Minho.” You lean forward and the motion causes Minho to whine. You quickly catch it as your lips fall on his. His lips enclose yours and he kisses you slowly and passionately as you move on his cock, lazily.

Words, unfiltered and raw, spill out from your mouth after your lips leave his as you feel the high that is creeping up slowly within you. “Minho, fuck. Oh fuck, you feel so good.”

“Then, come.”

Minho moans against your neck as he feels you, his finger rubbing your clit, “Babygirl, oh fuck. Come all over my cock.”

Minho’s other hand that is not occupied leaves your hip and moves upwards to find their place on your neck. His fingers gently wrap themselves around your neck and his eyes flicker a mischief that makes you wetter than you already are. He presses his fingers against your neck with pressure and you choke. Your mouth opens wide and your tongue falls out slightly resting on your lower lip. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench around Minho’s cock tightly.

Minho learns that your dirty liking for choking is incredibly hot. Seeing you like this is what he knows would get him to come when you are not around. Your fucked out expression as you gasp for air makes Minho plunge into you harder and you choke harder.

A final flick of his finger over your sensitive button and a bit more pressure over your neck are all it takes for your body to flood with pleasure and ecstasy. Your legs tighten around Minho's waist, curling in as you ride out your high for as long as possible, still moving your hips against him. His fingers let go of your neck and you breath loudly, taking in huge gulps of air.

Not long after your undoing, he comes inside you, coating your walls with his seed as you feel his length pulsate within you.

Once your body falls limp against his chest, equally fucked out and panting for air, you feel him going soft inside you. He lifts you up, slowly slipping out of you and gently laying you by his side. His fingers rub small circles on your hips after pulling you closer into him. 

“Hey,” you say and smile. 

Minho kisses your forehead and then, the peak of your nose, and finally, kisses your lips, softly. It isn't lustful or anything. Just plain passion seeping from him to you. You feel his admiration and an emotion you fear to mistake for love. He pulls away and smiles, “Hey, beautiful.”

He comes closer and licks the side of your neck, where he had wrapped his fingers out. The one fantasy that you are so in love with. He peppers soft kisses around it and mumbles an apology. 

“No,” you quickly stop him. “That was everything. I— I really like you." Pausing, the thought crashes your head, post your high and you mumble, "Fuck, I fell in love with my best friend." 

You nuzzle into his chest after he pulls back, your arms wrapping around his body as you calm yourself. Minho chuckles into your ear, "Yes, yes. You clearly did. What do we do now?"

"Take responsibility." You mumble as you slowly find yourself feeling sleepy. Your eyes are slowly drooping and your voice lowers in tone, words drifting away almost, “You better take responsibility for my feelings and take care of me.”

“It'd truly be my honour,” Minho mumbles, lifting you slowly to push his one arm beneath your neck. He uses the other hand to push your hair away from your face. Kissing your forehead, lips lingering for a while, he smiles to himself, laughing slightly as he asks you, "Was the schlong good?”

You laugh softly, snuggling into his chest, fist against it as you try to fall asleep, thunderstorms long forgotten. Kissing his chest, you giggle, "Best ever schlong I have ever had, baby. All mine to keep now."

Jisung: can you pick me up? Changbin: this late? Jisung: i just wanted them to confess. not fuck like bunnies. useless fact i learnt today: they are both loud in bed. Changbin: i'm laughing off the bed literally!!! also!!! Jisung: yeah? Changbin: and they were roommates! Jisung: god, they were roommates. 🙄❤️

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

A/N: If there’s anything I learned from doing this, it’s that vampirerry is an utter WHORE. Good for him!!!! As for myself, I’m done with the semester and my term projects and finals left my singular brain cell fried, so this was a nice way to get back into writing again. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you to the anon that suggested it, this was super fun to do! :D

read you’re someone i just want around here

word count: 6k

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Harry is very attentive when it comes to aftercare with Y/N. The sex they have is often rough and includes toys, degradation, and multiple rounds, so he believes aftercare is non-negotiable. Rough sex can be fun, but if it’s not followed by a lot of communication and post-performance support, it can take a hard emotional toll on a person. Even when intimacy isn’t meant to be inherently sentimental, there has to be a certain level of connection and etiquette surrounding it, or it could end badly for both parties involved. He always checks on her immediately after they finish, simply to gauge her headspace and how her body is responding, and after he’s made sure she’s alright, he goes into his usual routine of skin-to-skin contact and gentle coddling. Reassurance and praise is just as important afterwards as it is during, because it’s good to let a partner know that your appreciation runs deeper than just the physical need felt in the heat of the moment; everyone deserves to feel valued beyond their body. 

Harry proceeds to clean Y/N up after every session, because it’s the least he can do since she’s usually the one getting the brunt of the work. He’ll fetch a clean towel dampened under warm water to wipe her clean, or he’ll offer to help give her a bath or a shower— whichever route she prefers. Harry dresses her, and changes the sheets if need be, and tucks her into bed to ensure she’s nice and comfortable. If it’s been a particularly intense session, he’ll go the kitchen and bring back a snack and a drink— a granola bar and a Gatorade, or some chips and her favorite juice, or if she’s feeling especially hungry, he’ll happily go out of his way to prepare her an actual meal— and he insists on feeding it to her bit by bit until she’s come to enough to handle it on her own. If she’s not hungry, he at least brings her a glass of water and urges her to drink it; better to be safe than sorry. After that, more cuddling is the status quo, which normally ends in Y/N falling asleep in his arms, and Harry has absolutely no problem with that at all.  

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Harry’s favorite body part of Y/N’s is probably her chest. Yes, he likes it for sexual reasons— obviously— but there are innocent reasons for his fascination, as well. He likes how responsive she gets when he touches her there— how he can get her going just by groping her the way she likes it, or by using his mouth to tongue across her nipples until she’s writhing in pleasure and whining for more. He loves leaving hickies all over her tits, probably more than she likes receiving them. It’s just so fucking hot seeing himself marked all over her, especially when she’s putting on a bra and he can see all of the dark bruises scattered across the cleavage spilling from the undergarment. Filth aside, he also enjoys loving all over her chest. Absentmindedly cupping them while they’re snuggling, nuzzling his head between them while they’re watching television, massaging them under her shirt with his large palms as she sits back against his chest, sipping a glass of wine and chatting away, unwinding after a long day. It’s a form of intimacy; it provides a type of closeness nothing else can. 

As for his own favorite body part, it’s a tie between two different areas. He loves his thighs— they’re one of his most prominent features. They’re thick and meaty and sensitive, so they’re the perfect sweet spot to touch when he wants to get riled up. Given his previous response, it can be easily deduced that he likes to get hickies there, as well. The marks look great peeking out from under his briefs (for the short amount of time they last, anyways) and they make a great accessory to the large tigerhead tattoo along his left thigh. It’s artwork, really; a proper Picasso. 

His other favorite body part...well, take a lucky guess. It’s likely not that far off— literally, considering it hangs right between his thighs. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Harry’s personal preference is cumming inside. He adores feeling the way Y/N tightens around him when he finally orgasms (she’s just so warm and soft and unbelievably tight; it’s like she was made for him), almost as much as he loves seeing her reaction. Her body will immediately start to wriggle and her back will arch as she releases broken little whimpers, clinging to his shoulders with her nails and begging him to fill her until he’s milked his worth. Hearing her ragged breathing and feeling her sweaty chest stutter against his is enough to do him in, but when she goes as far as to gnaw on his ear and whine a soft little, “Want it all, baby. Want you dripping out of me when we’re done.” Well, that’s enough to kill him all over again. 

Of course, there are times when Harry likes seeing himself all over her, too. On her outstretched tongue, or smeared across her pretty face and plush lips (she looks particularly cute when it ends up all over her eyelashes), or streaked over the valley of her tits, or pooled at the center of her tummy. If he’d been taking her from behind, then he likes seeing it run down the backs of her thighs, or splattered across the dip of her spine. And if she’d been giving him a handjob, then seeing himself dribbling down her fingers is just as good. Why? Because those fingers usually end up in her mouth, which means he ends up all over her tongue, and so the cycle comes full circle. How poetic. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Did Harry suggest wearing a matching set of a vibrating cock ring and buzzing bullet to do grocery shopping once? Yes. Did he drop three glass jars of peach preserves by accident as a result, causing them to have to book it out of the bread aisle while trying to look as unsuspicious as possible, which failed horribly because they were literally hobbling like a crippled elderly couple? Also yes. Did they end up fucking in a Target fitting room? Definitely. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

A lot of experience. Tons. Immense amounts. Insane amounts. Two hundred years of the same seven continents just means two hundred years worth of sex across every single one. And it gives you plenty of time to find the clitoris, as well as giving you a chance to learn the female anatomy like the back of your hand. That being said, Harry doesn’t doubt he could make Y/N cum with his wrists tied behind his back and a blindfold strapped to his face. In fact, he’s made her cum just by using his thigh, so that in itself is enough credibility to last him several more lifetimes. The toy chest in his closet and the fact that he’s well-endowed are bonuses— he knows more than enough tricks to keep her satisfied with just his tongue. Not to mention his fingers— they’re long for a reason.

F = Favorite position  

Funny enough, Harry doesn’t have one. He’s spent so many decades cycling through every possible position in existence, it’s gotten to where he can’t pin-point a preference; all positions are unique, and they each have their own appeal. Reverse cowgirl is nice because he likes watching the way he stretches Y/N open with every plunge of her hips, and it also gives him the luxury of marking his rings across her ass in the process. Regular cowgirl is nice, too— having her chest bouncing in his face is nothing short of a divine miracle, in his opinion. Doggy style is a staple, and there’s always different add-ons he can apply to spice it up; for example, taking her from behind with her wrists tied to her ankles, or bending her over the kitchen counter with her face pressed into the marble, or fucking her against his glass wall with her hands and chest flushed to the cool surface as their breaths fog the floor-to-ceiling window. 

Missionary is a tried and true option, and just like it’s prior counterpart, it can be enhanced with a variety of extra tricks. Bondage is a good condiment, against the wall is always a nice touch, spread-eagle never goes wrong, and just having her legs wrapped around his lower back is more than enough. However, he does have two favorite variations of the position. The first is when he mounts her legs onto his shoulders or along the inside of his elbows to open her up more, and then just ramming his hips down at a very specific angle that hits her g-spot just right, pounding her into the bed so hard she tears the sheets off the mattress. The second is a cowgirl-missionary hybrid: he sits back on his heels and uses the steep downward slope created by his thighs as elevation, pulling her ass onto his tilted lap and swinging her legs over either side of his hips. He gropes her waist with his palms and yanks her forward, bouncing her against his cock and watching her completely dismantle as he nudges all the right places with as much speed and force as she deems fit. 

And then there’s fucking from the side, but that’s a whole other extensive conversation he doesn’t have time for. 

Actually, maybe Harry will entertain it for a minute or so. He usually throws one of Y/N’s legs over his neck to get a deeper range, manhandling her roughly onto her side and yanking her closer to his body by her waist, grasping it with stern vigor and holding her down against the mattress, grunting out a gravelly, strict command along the lines of, “Stay fucking still.” He’ll drill into her at a brutal, consistent pace, staining his fingerprints along the curves of her torso and sponging damp kisses onto her ankle, smirking into her skin as he watches her fist at the duvet in a futile attempt at maintaining her bearings. It’s pretty evident that she can’t, though; the way her eyes lull around their sockets from his harsh stride does a terrible job at hiding her lack of self-control, alongside the fragmented curses she gasps out whenever he nudges her g-spot with the head of his cock. 

“Oh, that was such a pretty noise. Did I hit that little spot you like?”

Her response will be begrudging, as always, which he thinks is ridiculously useless considering he can see her burying her face into the pillow to hide how her jaw drops open in sheer rapture. “No.”

“No?” The vampire leans forward, stretching her leg towards the headboard and preening at the garbled squeak that escapes her gritted teeth, plunging deeper as he lowers himself to her level. He knots her hair around his knuckles, tugging sharply until her face is tilted back enough to meet his fiery gaze. “Then why are you starting to shake?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the mood, honestly. There are definitely serious moments, but Harry enjoys the humorous ones just as much. He already adores making Y/N laugh and smile on a regular basis, and that desire only grows when he’s buried between her thighs, simply because she just looks so fucking cute laughing with her hair splayed around the pillows in a messy halo, her sounds of glee stuttering due to how sharply she’s jolting against the bed. He loves feeling her giggle into his mouth as he cracks sarcastic jokes and makes stupid witty comments that break the intensity in the air, especially because she’s usually clever enough to return them with some of her own. Then they both end up snickering like idiots as he tries to keep a solid pace, which eventually tapers to a messy, haphazard stride as their laughter drowns out their goal to the point where he has to take a genuine break to collect himself. There’s tons of examples— how could there not be? Sex is hardly ever perfect, so awkward moments are not only expected, but guaranteed. What better way to handle them than with a bit of humor?

There was an incident once where Harry accidentally knocked their foreheads together so hard, they both bruised (which he responded to with, “I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Cosmopolitan meant when they suggested matching couples tattoos.”). Another time, he got so into the moment he didn’t realize he was jack-hammering the top of her head into the backboard until she brought it to his attention (and made a comment saying it sounded like a sped up version of the beat to We Will Rock You). A bad case of the hiccups. Y/N burping right in his face halfway through his orgasm. A random leg cramp that made him think he was going to need amputation to survive. Accidentally rolling off the bed or couch onto the ground and nearly dislocating both of their spines in the process, getting his cross earring tangled in her hair and nearly ripping off his ear trying to get it out, and the unfortunate collapse of a pillow fort he’d spent over an hour building. He even sneezed in her face once, and when she instinctively went to shove him back, she wound up slamming her palm into his nose so hard he nearly passed out. Nose bleeds aren’t necessarily sexy, per se, but he just dug blindly through her nightstand until he found two new tampons somewhere in that black hole she calls a drawer, shoved them in his nostrils, and kept going. No one can ever accuse him of being unresourceful. 

Queefing. Lots and lots of queefing, which he usually starts mimicking with his mouth, and then she responds to that by whining and telling him to cut it out, and then he takes to mocking her whining instead. It normally finishes with them laughing so hard that Harry’s cheeks hurt from smiling so big, but it’s a good type of pain. The best type of pain. 

H = Hair (how do they groom?)

Harry likes keeping himself neat and orderly, but he doesn’t enjoy going bare, so trimming is his grooming preference. There’s just something so unappealing about a completely smooth dick— it looks like raw chicken and it’s fucking disgusting. He doesn’t have anything against a good bush, but it tends to get unruly and he’d rather not have to overcomplicate his shower routine. And honestly, he can’t trust himself because last time he had a full front yard going, he got shitfaced and tried to braid it on a dare. Keeping the hedges trimmed is the ideal landscaping option, and it just looks way hotter— a uniform dusting of hair is a good accessory and it just makes everything look more cohesive, given that he also fancies keeping his happy trail thick. It’s all about aesthetics, isn’t it? 

I = Intimacy (the romantic aspect)

It’s no secret that Harry’s been somewhat detached from intimacy for the last two hundred years or so. Intimacy is reserved for genuine romance, and that’s something he hadn’t entertained since before the lightbulb was invented. But now that he has Y/N, intimacy has crawled its way back out from the deepest recesses of his subconscious, where it had been shoved into a bottomless pit with the rest of his trauma. He likes it— he likes opening up to her in any way he can, because sharing those obsolete parts of himself with someone again is more fulfilling than he ever imagined. He likes kissing her randomly when she’s halfway through a sentence, just to feel her words die off abruptly in her throat as she gives into his gentle gesture, a delicate smile spreading across her satin lips. He likes whispering sweet phrases of encouragement into her hair when they’re tangled amidst sweaty limbs and rumpled sheets, reminding her of how much he cares for her and how beautiful she looks when she’s so far gone and how she makes him feel like his entire body has been set alight. He likes sponging soft pecks across the stretch marks along her thighs and across the dimples on her belly, her skin candy and velvet on his tongue as she releases a watery sigh that lets him know he’s doing all the right things in all the right places. He just likes letting her know she's special to him, in any and every way he can. 

Intimacy forges timeless bonds, and he reckons that assumption is unarguable, considering he knows a thing or two about eternity. 

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Harry likes to jack off, obviously. Who doesn’t? It’s why he has an entire section of his toy chest dedicated to self-pleasuring tools. Vibrating cock rings, an array of lubes that range from temperature-changing to sensation sensitivity, and a few pocket vags that get the job done whenever Y/N is out of commission (usually because of work). His favorite one is an electronic sleek black model that is made of a premium silicone material and has a variety of massage settings, suction strengths, and internal textures. It’s designed to make the session feel more real, and yes, it was expensive, but self-love is always worth the splurge. 

The beauty of living on his own is that he can get off wherever and whenever he wants, without having to stress about someone interrupting an important step in his pampering routine. He usually does it in his room and on his bed, simply because Y/N’s pillow is close by and the experience is heightened when her scent is swimming around his hazy, bliss-drunken mind. If Harry is feeling particularly needy, he’ll ditch the toy all together and just hump one out against the mattress or cushion. If it’s a particularly restless day, he’ll take a toy downstairs and lazily play within himself on the couch while browsing through Netflix. Those instances usually average a few tamer orgasms rather than a single large one, but he’s not complaining; his stamina comes in unapologetic waves that stem from a never-ending supply, and he certainly has the time to kill. If Harry gets the sudden urge in the shower or while he’s relaxing in his jacuzzi, he won’t bother fetching a trinket; he’ll just stroke one out with his hand, using the cool metal of his trusty lionhead ring to tease the tip until he brings himself to orgasm. It turns out daylight crystals have more than one use. 

There is one common factor amongst all these different choices, though: Y/N is present in every fantasy. And if the vampire is feeling especially bold, he’ll grab his phone and take a video of whatever he’s doing to himself, and then she’ll have a nice little gift waiting for her once she gets out of the café for the day. That usually leads to him receiving a present in return later that evening, and then he’s dialing her contact before the clip is even done playing, and then what he does during his alone time doesn’t require him being so alone anymore. 

K = Kinks 

Harry has tons— in fact, he has so many, he can’t really keep track. And he also has the sneaking suspicion that if he were to ever jot all of them down, he’d end up locked in some type of sex addict rehabilitation center. Bondage is a big one, so he’ll start there. He’s great with ropes, given that he learned his way around them ages ago. Chains are nice, but they can be a pain to set up without the right equipment; he’s thinking of getting a reinforced metal hook installed into his ceiling, like the one in his storage closet, which he uses to keep his punching bag secure. Handcuffs, obviously— velvet-lined, straight metal, fuzzy coverings, he’s got it all. Dominance, degradation, Daddy, Sir, choking, brat-taming, spanking, flogging, slapping— impact play in general, to be honest— spitting, wax, praise, begging, masochism, branding (mild stuff, no molten metal shit), collaring, discipline, dirty talk, edging, exhibitionism, face-fucking, face-sitting (with him on the receiving end), giving oral (is that a kink? It is now.) gagging (both the action and using the actual object itself), breeding (he hates that term but that’s the official name, unfortunately), teasing, voyeurism, role play, and… he thinks that’s it. Oh, and blood, but that doesn’t really count for apparent reasons. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Y/N’s couch is sacred, at this point. Their entire relationship started on that lumpy, worn excuse of a sofa, and it’s seen them through their progression from strangers to friends with benefits to lovers to more. It’s comfortable enough, the dark color hides any explicit stains, and the cushions always smell of her signature mixture of honey and lavender combined with Snuggle fabric softener. It’s finicky, but irreplaceable. His kitchen counter is a close second. It’s provided a lot, taken a lot, been through a lot— through a lot of Lysol wipes, to be specific. If it wasn’t marble, it likely would have been reduced to chunks and rubble by now, courtesy of his enhanced strength gripping the edges as he slams her against the smooth surface. The backseat of his Cadillac is consecrated, as well; there’s just so much erotic appeal to fucking in a car with rock music blaring in the background, muffling the obscene sounds of bodies connecting and a mixture of fever-pitch moans. The couch, the counter, and the Cadillac— the Unholy Trinity. 

The jacuzzi is nice, too, but for the sake of his clever little “c” alliteration, he’ll leave that one as an implied token. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As much as Harry claims he likes full submission in bed, he can’t deny that he loves being challenged. Delivering punishment and coaxing out an orgasm is so much more satisfying when he has to fight for it; it’s so fucking hot watching his girlfriend try to best him in a power struggle, especially when she finally— and undeniably, since he always wins— caves under his will and winds up begging him for what he otherwise would have gifted her freely. That’s where the brat-taming kink comes into play. He likes it when she mouths off and makes snarky digs, and he enjoys it even more when he tries to set her in place and she amps her disobedience as a result. There’s nothing more attractive than a battle of wits with someone who is a perfect match in every way. And when she channels her attitude into physical gestures, it riles him up beyond compare. For example, when she smirks and rolls her eyes, despite the fact that there’s trails of tears staining her cheeks and mascara smeared all over her waterline? Christ, he could go feral. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No feet, no feces, no beastiality. There’s probably more, but those are the ones off the top of his head.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving oral is great— he highly recommends it, solid ten out of ten— but giving it is so much better. Harry’s always been a giver, even when he was young and barely knew his way around a woman’s undergarments. The stereotypical expectation for a person who is beginning to explore their sexuality is that everything they do, they do for their own gain. It’s a selfish realization, yes, but it’s a primal type of selfishness that no one can truly be blamed for. It’s a simple concept: when you start having sex, you want as much personal benefit as possible. It’s only natural. But from the second Harry became sexually active, he came to find that providing release to his partner outweighed the bliss he could get from letting them pleasure him instead. It’s not direct pleasure, but rather cognitive, which more often than not translates itself physically. And when it comes to Y/N, that euphoria manifests tenfold. 

Nothing compares to having his face buried between her legs as she tugs and yanks at his hair desperately, her chest heaving and jaw falling open as he uses his tongue to unravel her from the inside out. Spitting sloppily onto her folds and hearing the raw gasp of aroused shock that escapes her sore throat, which causes his swollen lips to spread into a dirty grin as he latches onto the sensitive bud at the thick of her core, fiddling with it until her legs are trembling uncontrollably around his sturdy shoulders. Watching her features go slack as he bobs his neck fervently between her thighs, swiping the bridge of his nose across her clit over and over until the entire bottom half of his face is drenched in her excitement. Fucking his tongue into her and feeling her buck against his jaw as she holds him in place with her fingers tangled in his curls, whimpering his name repeatedly in a voice so shattered, he could probably build a mosaic with the fractures. Feeling her drip down his chin and into the collar of his shirt, savoring how sweet she tastes as he pins her hips down against the bed and groans feverishly into her cunt, his ego idolizing the image of her so disheveled under his influence. 

A measly blowjob is hardly any competition to that. Harry could very well cum just from eating Y/N out. In fact, he has, and that in itself is all the proof he needs. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This is one of those other factors that depends on the mood. If Harry has been waiting all day for it, his impatience bleeds into his rhythm, which means he settles for fast and hard. It means he settles for bending her over the back of his couch with one palm around her throat and his other fingers in her mouth, pounding into her with so much force, the sofa starts shifting across the ground. If Y/N has been teasing him endlessly for a decent amount of time, it’ll be rough and deep, but not fast; he’ll drag it out for as long as possible, just to make her regret acting like such a spoiled brat. That’s when he brings out the paddle, or the crop, or just manhandles her across his lap and spanks her until she’s apologizing profusely through her whines. If he’s in a soft, romantic headspace, it’ll be slow and sensual, with lots of gentle caresses, giggly kisses dusted across eager lips and droopy eyelids, and penetrating strokes that make his toes curl and tummy clench. 

Pace is relative, but the message behind it is all the same: I want you more than anything, and I’m going to show you just how deeply I mean it. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are fun, Harry will admit. They’re filthy and messy, and they show just how far gone two people are for each other to the point where they can’t wait to feel one another at a later time; that they need to be together now, or they’ll go absolutely insane. Quickies are saved for when the urge strikes at random times. For when he’s out with Y/N at a park, sitting under the shade with his head in her lap as she combs his curls out of his eyes and thumbs over his chin affectionately, and the sun filters through the tree canopy just right to where it illuminates her lashes and the suppleness of her cheeks in a manner he deems ethereal. For when they’re at the mall, walking hand in hand and licking at ice cream cones as they survey the shops, and she reaches over to wipe a bit of Rocky Road off the corner of his mouth, replacing the stain with a soft stipple of her lips instead. For when they’re out eating dinner and playing footsie under the table like immature teenagers, and she’s trying to steal a French fry from his plate but he keeps fighting her off with his fork because, “I told you to order your own, but you wanted those disgusting potato skins instead!” And she’s laughing so brightly and unapologetically, giving him a look that so obviously tells him she can’t wait to get him alone, and nothing seems quite as flawless as that fraction in time, then and there and nowhere else.

These simple but memorable moments cause him to get love boners, which he jokingly refers to as “sniffy stiffies,” where “sniffy” has to do with being sentimental, and “stiffy”...well, that one is pretty self-explanatory, no? It always ends with them shagging in the car, or in the family bathroom of a diner, and in the case of the park, in an obscure area of the forest that lines the jogging trail. 

Quickies are just that— fast, but meaningful nonetheless, because they come from a place of genuine emotion. They’re fleeting, but unforgettable. Sniffy stiffy quickies, if you will. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Taking risks is the norm in Harry’s life, especially when it comes to his sex habits. He’s proven time and time again that he has no problem riding along the seams of a dare and just barely making it out unscathed, so experimenting outside of the bedroom is just another day in the life. Fingering Y/N in a music room in an antique shop, getting road head during a two hour drive back to Los Angeles, ripping his girlfriend’s panties out from beneath her dress at one of California’s most prestigious restaurants— the list is endless, really. Harry likes to think he has a gift for coming up with inspirational quotes on the spot, so he’ll lend his expertise here and now: “A life without risks is a life that isn’t worth shit.” It even rhymes, so he knows sorority pledges will have a ball putting it in their Instagram bios. A bit of charity work for the bird-brained. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Endless stamina. Literally. Vampires don’t stay tired for long, so he could be ready to go again within seconds. And he can last long, as well; his stubbornness and pride depend on it, and he likes making his partner cum first as an ego boost. He can go as many rounds as Y/N can and more, though he won’t push it. He doesn’t want her to end up in the ER with a bruised cervix. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Harry could run a sex shop from his closet; Y/N doesn’t take the piss by calling him “Fifty Shades” for no reason. He uses them on himself, he uses them on her, and he got high once and tried to sword fight Y/N with a dildo, so it’s safe to say he definitely uses them quite a bit. If his Lovesense Lush 3 vibrator could talk, he’d be drawn and quartered for excessive debauchery. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Harry loves teasing, that’s no mystery. Winding people up is one of his most practiced skills, so of course that would channel into his intimate life. He’s mastered it, though it’s not like it’s hard. A drawn out blink here, or a feathery touch there. An inch of space between his and Y/N’s lips to establish some tension, or squeezing her inner thigh with his palm hard enough to draw a tiny squeak from her chest. Touching her through her clothes, or leaving a trail of wet kisses down her throat and stopping right at her cleavage. Biting the sensitive skin along the inside of her knee, or dragging the tip of his cold nose down the center of her twitching tummy. Lapping slowly at her nipples until they perk up, or sinking a single long digit inside her and keeping it there just to feel her clench around it needily. And once he gets a pattern going, teasing molds into edging, edging molds into begging, begging molds into praise, and before he knows it, he’s hit four of his kinks with one roll of the dice. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Harry is very vocal in bed, and he’s not ashamed of it. He knows for a fact that Y/N loves it, and if him being loud gets her worked up, then he’ll let his throat go out in the process. He’s noticed that in different situations, he has an arsenal of sounds for each. If he’s being rough and dominant, he tends to groan, grunt, and growl. If he’s being desperate and needy, he turns to whines and whimpers to communicate how he feels. If he’s too zoned into the moment to distinguish all his emotions, broken moans and stuttered mewls are his default. No matter the circumstance, they all take the same route: they start low and soft, and escalate in volume proportional to the intensity of the moment. So what if half the building is hearing him orgasm for the third time as he mocks his girlfriends sobbing pleads and calls her his “dirty fucking whore”? Let’s be honest, it’s probably the highlight of their week. He has a great voice— a sultry, deep baritone that compliments his English accent nicely— and anyone would be lucky to hear it spew the filth it does. He’s yet to get many complaints, so he doesn’t intend on stopping. 

W = Wildcard (random headcanon)

An honesty hour moment seems interesting, so he’ll confess a few tales from his past. The first time Harry ever went down on a girl, it was against a tree in a garden and he nearly asphyxiated under all the layers of her gown. A couple of years later, he ended up getting oral from a reverend’s daughter against a tree, too, for the morbid irony and associated religious revenge. And to drive the point home, oral was only the beginning of what she gave him. His first decade as a vampire was definitely his pettiest. 

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It’s not uncommon knowledge that Harry’s well-endowed. He remembers how insecure he was the first time he had sex— a shocker, he knows; he was insecure?— and how he knew barely anything regarding sizing and how to use his assets accordingly. But it’s been ages since then, and now he definitely knows his way around his own body (let alone his partner’s), and he most certainly knows that he’s above average not only as a person in general, but when it comes to what’s in his trousers, as well. Harry won’t specify inches— he loves how speculation drives others mad— but it was big enough to give Y/N a decent pause the first time she pulled down his pants, and it’s big enough to leave her absolutely fucked every single time, without a single miss. If that’s not credibility at its finest, then he doesn’t know what is.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Harry’s sex drive is insatiable, to say the least. His vampirism combined with his narcissistic tendencies makes the ideal cocktail— cocktail— for the constant fuse that’s always burning under his skin. He’s ready to go at all times; Y/N just has to say the word and he’s pulling on a pair of sweatpants as he grabs his keys, hopping down his complex’s corridor toward the elevator on one foot as he tries to get his last shoe on the other. Lazy morning sex is probably his favorite; he’s come to find it’s when he’s most pent up, usually after a sleepless night of feeling Y/N’s body heat radiating through all of his cold limbs. It also sets a great tone for the rest of the day, and he just loves seeing Y/N wake up to him lying on his side with his temple resting on his fist, his elbow propped against the mattress as he poses the other on his hip in a theatrical diva stance. He’ll smile at her giddily with all his pearly teeth, dimples twitching as his lashes flutter dramatically, dirty intentions written clear all over his face (“Good morning, hon—” “Wanna have sex?” “Harry, it’s ten in the morning.” “Is that a yes? Because it’s not a no.” “I haven’t even brushed my teeth!” “That’s fine, I’m gonna stick my dick in there anyways.”) 

All in all, his libido is insane, and he’s lucky that Y/N’s is up to par or else he would have worked her into an exhaustion-induced coma by now. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Harry just...doesn't. Maybe once every few weeks, but definitely more often now than before he had his girlfriend. Sleeping just comes way easier when he has someone he cares about resting beside him, their inherent warmth thawing the stiffness from his muscles and putting his racing mind at ease. He feels safe enough around Y/N to let his guard down— both literally and metaphorically— and that seems to help with his supernatural insomnia; it sedates that nocturnal hyper-instinct in his brain that demands he be aware at all times, muffling the animalistic part of him that has been manning the reins for the better half of the last two hundred years. He doesn’t need to be so on edge anymore when everything he needs is just an arm-length away. Especially when she’s usually willing to lend her chest as a pillow, and who is he to neglect her wishes.   

[amysteriousmessenger]

First time with RFA + V and Saeran?

/cracks knuckes this is gonna be a long one, if anyone wants me to write one with Ray, Suity and Unknown please let me know <3 REMEMBER TO PRACTICE SAFE SEX!! Under the cut because of length - <3 please consider reblogging, I spent so long on this! <3 

First Time with RFA (+ V and Saeran) Headcanons [VERY NSFW]

Yoosung Kim First Time Headcanons

Your first time with Yoosung would be a bit of a long time coming. He’s nervous because he doesn’t want to mess it up, and he’s also not quite sure how to approach the subject. He gets overly worried about your boundaries whenever he wants to bring it up and just ends up never mentioning it. This would result in a lot of abrupt ends to make out sessions because he can feel something rising and doesn’t know what to do about it in that moment. Eventually, he’d start to bring it up but you’d have to meet him in the middle of the conversation before he got too flustered and jumped ship.

There wouldn’t be an immediate plan as to when it was gonna happen, but he would frantically buy some condoms at the pharmacy in advance. However, it just so happened that that was the day that the self-checkout was broken and he had to go to a real worker. He’d very much consider asking Zen for advice, and would probably hint at asking before deciding he couldn’t handle boosting Zen’s ego like that. Eventually, he’d just lightly google it and maybe ask one of his LOLOL friends for any general pointers.

It’d happen in his dorm room after a movie had turned into some heavy kissing and a little bit of light touching and resulted in you getting onto his lap. You’d be nuzzling kisses into his neck and losing yourself in his little gasps and moans when you’d felt him getting hard through his jeans, and then he’d be very embarrassed that you’d felt it. He feels like he should be a little more forward, but the words escape him. He’s enjoying himself and he doesn’t want to stop but he can’t find the words to keep it going. 

You’d ask if he wanted to continue and when he agreed, Yoosung would be a little bit bolder and would move you so you were lying down and he was on all-fours above you: continuing to kiss you from that angle.

He’s a little flustered and uncertain about, well, everything. He has a vague idea as to what he should be doing, but you’d going to have to move his hands down your thighs and up your shirt to encourage him that you want this as much as he does.

He is continuously asking if you’re sure you want to continue, if he’s touching you right, if he’s making you feel good, if he’s putting too much of his weight on you- please assure him that you’re fine, baby is nervous. 

Yoosung’s very flustered about seeing you undressed for the first time, and you’d most definitely have to take your bra off for him because he does not know how that thing unclips. He’s also a little shy about taking his clothes off for you too, and you can tell he’s embarrassed from the heat radiating off his entire body. It’s his first time too, after all.

He definitely stumbles his way through the foreplay and you have to remind him to not be so tense, it’s supposed to be fun! He’s very worried about finishing too early since it’s all new to him.

Yoosung’s movements are stiff at first and he’s definitely using his back and not his hips but with time he’ll loosen up a little and get into the swing of it better. You’ll have to guide him and help him set the pace, but he’s more than willing to do what you ask in order to make you feel good! He doesn’t want your first time with him to be disappointing!

He’s SO loud with his moans that you’re 100% certain that his flatmates have heard.

Zen/Hyun Ryu First Time Headcanons 

Your first time with Zen would happen pretty early on in your relationship. He’s both needy and affectionate, so it makes sense you’d end up in bed together sooner rather than later. His flirting would turn to kissing, which then turned to heavy petting, which then turned into him carrying you bridal style through his apartment towards his bed. 

Zen hasn’t been with anyone in a while so he sort of has to root around in his bedside table for a condom, and then has to check the date to make sure it hasn’t passed it’s use-by-date. Luckily for you both, it hadn’t: but at that point, Zen would have probably sprinted to the pharmacy at top speed and back in order to buy a new box if they were out of date. Nothing could stop this man now that he had gotten a taste of you.

Zen’s absolutely going to show you a good time, he feels a little rusty at first but once he remembers where and how to touch you, it’s game on. He’s in two minds about ‘unleashing the beast’ because he’s going to make damn sure that your first time with him is one you’re never going to forget, but he’s worried he might overwhelm you. He’ll quickly throw the latter thought away when he undresses you and gets his hands all over your thighs. 

Zen’s really good at periodically asking whether you’re okay with what he’s doing at each stage and before progressing to another act, he wants to make sure that you want him as much as he wants you.

He’s great at foreplay, he prides himself on it actually. He’s got wonderful fingers and he knows what he’s doing with his tongue. It makes him feel so good to see you coming undone like this before he’s even had his way with you. He’ll insist on making you cum with his hands and mouth before going any further. He’s going to make tonight all about you.

Zen’s a little bit possessive and it’ll show on your thighs, since they’re covered in lovebites.

When he’s above you, ready to move on to main course of the night, he’ll ask once again if you’re sure about this, slightly worried that maybe you’d not thought it through and perhaps just been swept up in the moment: ‘Jagiya, I just want to make sure you’re doing this because you want to, not just for me.’ - ‘Of course I want to, I’m here with you because I want to be.’

The only way to describe Zen in this state is hungry. He promised to ravish you and that’s what he’s doing and then tenfold. He’s so spurred on by your moans, your body and the animalistic need of not having done this for so long.

He has a sex playlist and has it on shuffle the entire time. Zen absolutely is going to match his speed to the music whilst still trying to be absolutely in tune to you and your body. 

He goes absolutely insane when you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him as deep as he possibly can into you, especially when you cry out his name as you do it. He makes a point of wanting to make you moan as loud as he can, it’s good for his ego and lets him know he’s fucking you right.

He can’t help himself but lightly bite into your shoulder as he pounding in to you. Underneath him, you look good enough to eat.

Jaehee Kang First Time Headcanons

Your first time with Jaehee would be a little bit of a wait too, but not as long as Yoosung. Jaehee feels bad that she doesn’t really have time for a relationship with her job, so she feels as though she neglects you a bit unintentionally, and then she’s usually so tired in the evenings that she just passes out with exhaustion. So realistically, it would have to be either over a weekend over a holiday when the two of you were finally intimate together. 

You’d both be watching a musical and by the time it ended, it was practically time to go to sleep anyway. Since you were already in an established relationship with Jaehee and were getting physically comfortable with each other, you just slept in her bed whenever you stayed over.

It would start with a little bit of light kissing and touches, which turned into soft moans and gasps. Jaehee’s a little embarrassed at the noises she’s letting out, but it’s been a while she’s she’s been with anyone so the sensations feel so new to her again. 

You’d probably have to be the one to initiate it because Jaehee’s a little uncertain as to how to proceed, especially if she’s never been with a woman before. You place your hand on the inside of her thigh and break the kiss for a moment to ask: - ‘Do you trust me?’ ‘Of course, _____.’ - ‘Do you want me to keep going?’  ‘I do...’

You’d start touching her through her clothes first and then slip your hand underneath into her underwear when she’s a little more turned on. Jaehee continues to kiss you as you touch her and you can’t help but mildly embarrass her at how cute her little moans and whimpers are.

When Jaehee touches you, she’ll start the same way by touching you with her hand and then asks if you’d like her to do a little bit more than just using her hand, to which you moan out that yes, you would like that.

‘You might have to show me how you like it. I want to make you feel food so please, don’t be afraid to tell me if you want it differently.’

She hesitates a little bit when she’s actually between your thighs, and takes a few seconds just to steady herself before she starts kissing and lightly touching the inside of your legs, working her way up to your more intimate area.

Jaehee starts out very gentle and reserved and gets more confident in herself as your moans increased. You didn’t have to correct her one way or another because she absorbed your reactions very quickly and figured out what you liked and disliked and actually made you finish a lot quicker than you were expecting. She kept going so you could finish again, partially because she just enjoyed finally getting to be with you like this, and also because she wanted to make you feel as good as you make her feel. 

You obviously repay the favour to her afterwards, Jaehee’s quite quiet so you enjoy finding new ways to make her moan and emit cute little mewls and gasps and then for her to be embarrassed over it.

It’s not the most energetic session, but it’s sweet, gentle and with infinite tenderness.

Jumin Han First Time Headcanons

Jumin wouldn’t wait too long before sleeping with you. He wants to be different from his father and make sure you’re comfortably together before doing anything beyond kissing, but he also can’t keep his mind from wandering when he’s at work. He wants to claim you utterly and entirely, he needs you to be his.

He would bring it up beforehand, because that’s just who Jumin is but he tries his best not to phrase it like a business exchange. He wouldn’t expect you to have a date in mind or anything like that, but he’d like the greenlight that he can start thinking about things like that. Jumin hasn’t been with anyone beforehand (almost entirely out of disinterest), but he already has basic things like condoms, lubes and a few other items at home, and plans to expand his ‘collection’ as your relationship progresses.

Jumin’s absolutely a wine-and-dine kind of man, so he’d have the full evening planned with you and finish it with accompanying him to his home to enjoy the night’s view from his building. He’d kiss you with a little more passion than usual when outside and things for descend from there. You go over to the sofa for a little while, essentially straddling him and loosening his tie and cufflinks, just to get the situation a little more heated. 

Jumin usually can’t take a hint, but he does this time and continues to kiss you all the way to his bedroom where he has to stop himself from pushing you onto his bed and taking you right there. Where were his manners? Consent and foreplay come before that. Jumin’s actions aren’t fluid at first, but they’re certainly purposeful. He analyses each of your reactions as they come so he can gauge what you like and dislike and quickly turns to teasing you with his fingers and lips. ‘Would you like me to continue?’ He’ll ask, his voice seemingly as cool and collected as ever. - ‘Y-yes...’ You breathe out in response.

Jumin’s a gentleman and despite having no prior experience, he so easily controls the situation. He wants to make tonight about you and how good he can make you feel, he doesn’t feel any particular way about it being his first time in general, what’s most important to him is that it’s your first time together, so he wants to make a good impression. He takes a personal enjoyment in unzipping the back of your dress, commenting on how well the necklace he bought you suits you with a slight smirk.

He’ll comment on how beautiful he thinks your body is and that there’s no need to be embarrassed around him. He’s so considerate of you and your body, he knows how to touch you just right even though he’s never touched you like this before. He always waits until you’re entirely comfortable with what he’s doing with his fingers before progressing to anything more. 

If you’re self conscious about the way you sound, Jumin will put a little bit of light instrumental music on, probably jazz. He’ll first misunderstand and think you’re worried about being overheard and try to assure you that he had no neighbours and it would take him a few seconds to realise what you were actually worried about and he would just melt. Jumin absolutely wants to hear how good he’s making you feel and your moans are turning him on so much, he doesn’t mind having some music play in the background if it means you're more comfortable.

Saeyoung Choi First Time Headcanons 

Seven’s frequently made ‘no sex before marriage’ and ‘save room for Jesus’ jokes, but this boy is horny and no amount of porn and hentai is going to help him sort that out. Seven owns lube but doesn’t actually have any condoms in his possession since he was never actually expecting to get this far, so if you don’t bring one, he’ll either have to run to the store or, most horrifically, ask Vanderwood for one. Vanderwood doesn’t even dignify that text with a response.

There wouldn’t have been a plan or a real conversation beforehand, the two of you would have just been at Seven’s house watching a film or looking at memes on his bed before things got real steamy, real quickly and neither of you were in the mood to stop. You’d climbed on top of him to start kissing him, effectively (but unintentionally) pinning him to the bed when you’re felt him growing hard underneath you. 

This would progress with some dry humping, which definitely made Seven harder and got you in the mood a bit more. You’d find Seven’s hands moved their way up to your hips, guiding your pace as you grinded against him. Seven’s very vocal when he gets into it and he’s a switch anyway so he doesn’t really mind who’s in control as long as you’re both enjoying yourselves. He can’t quite resist the instinct to buck his hips up into you. ‘I don’t mind if you don’t, but do you wanna go any further than this?’ He’ll ask from below before quickly adding, ‘Just, uhh, because if not- which is completely fine, I’ll need to go take care of this in the bathroom-’ - ‘Of course I do, idiot. I’m literally on top of you. Do you want me to stop?’ ‘Definitely not.’ Seven would reply, with a smile and half lidded eyes.

He’ll pull you down onto him, and then roll over so that he was on top of you, his hands quickly finding their way under your t-shirt and massaging at your chest. He’ll probably disappear to go and wash his hands before anything progresses further, since he had just been eating Honey Buddha Chips and didn’t want to touch you with dirty fingers.

If you want him to put on a playlist, it means you have to be willing to take the risk of getting fucked to ‘All Star’ - Smash Mouth and ‘Rasputin’ - Boney M, or God Forbid, just the entire Bee Movie script but the nightcore version of it. That can come at a later date.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that Seven was that good with his fingers, seeing as what he did for a job, but the man had talent. He’d be able to make you cum with his fingers alone more than once given the speed he was able to move them at. 

Seven’s actually a little bit nervous too, since he doesn’t want to be bad for you. He’s spent his whole like thinking he’s a fuck up and he doesn’t want this to be another contribution to that. He needs a little reassurance too. There’s so much kissing and a few lovebites flying around. You even give Seven a couple and you laugh at him, knowing Vanderwood’s going to bully him about it tomorrow.

For the main act, he’d start on top but there’d be a good amount of position switching and you make an attempt at riding him for a bit. There’s a lot of fuck ups and laughter, but there’s even more love involved. He’d want to keep checking in and knowing that he’s making you feel good, but he can tell you’d having a good time from the way you’re riding him and the way you throw your head back every time he thrusts up into you. It’s lucky he has a lot of strength in his arms so he can hold you steady.

GE Saeran Choi First Time Headcanons

With Saeran, your first time would probably happen a bit quicker than people would expect. This man had been so deprived of love and affection for his whole life, and with the future so uncertain, he wanted to experience your love in everyway that you’d allow him. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you in varying lustful daydreams before, especially when he was alone in his room at Mint Eye, or stuck in front of the monitors in the IT room. Ray nervously fantasised about it, whereas his dark Saeran alter angrily touched himself to a scrunched up photograph of you just to get you out of his mind at night, so it was safe to say he’d thought about it. 

Sex is never just sex to Saeran, it’s offering everything you are to one another. To him, it’s loving, intimate and generous: which is exactly why he wants your first time together to be perfect. The two of you had shared a bed several times since you had nowhere safe to go whilst Saeran’s father and the agency were out for blood, so you tended to hotel hop a little and you both needed to know the other was safe and just have one other’s presence. Besides, Saeran wasn’t accustomed to the outside world yet and he wanted you there for help and guidance. 

Saeran would probably ask you before buying lube and a condom in case you had any preferences, he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself if you aren’t comfortable yet, but he doesn’t want to be caught unprepared if the moment comes. 

 Saeran enjoys giving you romantic surprises now he has the freedom to do so, these include bringing you flowers, filling a bubble bath for you and buying you chocolates since he can’t currently make them. So realistically, your first time would probably be after he innocently did all of these in succession. He’d been working really late at his computer with the intelligence unit and continued working whilst you were in the bath, so when you get out and get into your new (rather short) night dress, generously donated by one of the clothing stores that Jumin owns, and telling him to come to bed for the night because you’ve missed him all day, he practically can’t keep himself from wanting to kiss you. His shoulders are pretty stiff from working at the screen for so long, so you pull him onto the bed with you, embracing Saeran as you lay down together, gently rubbing them to ease the tension.

‘Sweetheart, I swear you look more and more beautiful every time I see you. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, you’re an angel.’ He says as he moves up, cupping your cheek and kissing you gently.

Everything Saeran says to you is from the heart and you so readily reciprocate the love and affection he gives you. He places one hand on your exposed, lower thigh and slowly moves it up to where the hem of the nightdress sits, indicating that he won’t go any further until you tell him that it’s okay. 

Saeran’s movements are slow but determined, he wants to show you physically how much he loves you, he wants to make you feel good while he can. He’d ask you to lay back on the bed so he can kiss you and touch you at the same time, touching you gently over your underwear first and then underneath when he asked you if it was alright for him to do that. ‘My love, I want to try and make you feel even better than this. Will you let me?’ he asks before he’s between your legs, gently moving your thighs apart so he can pull your underwear down. 

Your inner thighs are covered in kisses and maybe even a little lovebite here and there. Saeran gives you a lot of attention with his mouth and he’s a little shaky at first but he’s very determined to figure out what you like best. He tends to tease you a bit, both intentionally and unintentionally. It makes him feel proud that he can get these kinds of reactions out of you, and a touch possessive that he’s the only one who can. He’d definitely want to make you cum with his mouth first, and then use his fingers on you since he wants your first time with him to be as painless as possible.

Saeran doesn’t actually expect any kind of solo treatment in return, so he’s absolutely ready to melt when you reciprocate the attention on him and he definitely has to make you stop after only a few short minutes because he doesn’t want to finish too early.

He’s almost instantly overwhelmed with sensation when he actually enters you and he has to concentrate for a minute or so to, firstly, let you adjust and secondly so he doesn’t cum right away. He’s a little self-conscious at how sensitive he is but it’s okay, he’ll get used to it with time.

He’ll kiss at your eyes and face while he’s waiting for you to adjust to him and give him the go ahead to move. His heart is thudding in his chest and it feels like a flutter he’s never experienced before, he has such infinite tenderness and affection for you and he’s so full of love to be able to show you that.

V/Jihyun Kim First Time Headcanons

V’s a man that plans ahead, so when he felt like the relationship was getting a little more serious, he’d make sure he had in-date condoms and a new bottle of lube for when things for a more intimate. He always tries to be considerate so figured he should buy these things in preparation to save you the embarrassment but wouldn’t mention it until you brought it up first. This was definitely a relationship that progressed slowly, since he had a lot of healing and self-work to do, it felt like he had to learn how to love all over again. 

It would have been a late night with him, you’d have had a date that day and gone back to V’s for dinner with a glass of wine. You’d ask to go and see the starry night sky from his porch, with V laying down a blanket so the two of you didn’t have to sit directly on the cold floor. He’d gaze at you looking at the stars and have a sudden urge to kiss you, which then progressed into more and more kisses. V would lean you back onto the floor and would be to the side of you, leaning over and kissing you. Your hands are pressed against his chest as you enjoy the feeling of him cradling you so lost to him.

Perhaps it was the cold air that made the space between you feel so heated, but when V broke off the kiss to catch his breath, you immediately started kissing your way down his jaw and into his neck. You’d been waiting a while for your first time with him, and you didn’t want to rush him, but you were also so ready for him to just take you on that cold blanket outside on the porch. His warm hand squeezed your upper thigh and you thought for a second that he was going to tell you to stop, but instead he asked: ‘My love, don’t you think you’d enjoy this more on a bed?’

Once you’re in his bed, it’s like V unleashed a level of affection that he had been holding back for so long. He asks regularly if you’re okay with what he’d doing and that you can tell him to stop anytime that you want him to. You ask him, in turn if he’s sure that he’s ready and V assures you that he is, and that he doesn’t want to keep you waiting anymore.

He asks to take a photograph of you, nothing not safe for work (not yet), but he wants a picture of you on the bed, slightly out of breath with big doe eyes and puffy lips from the kisses you shared. It’ll be one of his favourite pictures of you for a while to come, and he’ll keep it in his most prized collection.

V gets hard just from touching you, he barely needs any friction of his own to be fully erect. And speaking of touching you, he does not stop. He’ll make you finish his his mouth, and then his fingers, and then his mouth again so that you’re absolutely ruined before he’s even gotten started. He was in a relationship for so long so he knows what he’s doing and the fact that he’s such a giving person means that you’re going to be entirely overcome with pleasure before he’s even inside you. You feel a little guilty about getting so much attention, but he insists that you deserve all of this and more.

He’ll put a little bit of music on if you want, but he honestly just prefers it to be the two of you. Your moans and praises are like music to him anyway, and that’s all he needs. He’s into body worship and he’ll praise and kiss every inch of you and make sure that you feel absolutely worshipped by him. 

He sets the pace to be what seems to make you dig you your fingers into his back and the bedsheets the hardest, and he can’t help but chuckle at how cute he thinks you look underneath him.

He puts so much into it that you really can’t describe it as anything other than ‘love making’ and it was most definitely worth the wait.

[subwaysurf45]

Back Into the Swing of Things

summary: Bucky is finally stable and after your friendship turns into a relationship, Bucky asks you to teach him about the little things. (set around civil war)

words:  3355

warning: legit none just fluff!

pairing: bucky x reader

Masterlist

You were sat at the little desk in your room, your music was blasting through your headphones as you nodded your head to the beat. It was paperwork day, the worst day. For some reason it was a busy time or missions which meant mission reports, you liked to just bang them out all at once for one day every couple of weeks. Some people did them right after but the little notes you take in your journal allow you to wait a bit and then do five at once. The plate that used to have a sandwich was now empty, Bucky brought it by because he knew it was your day and if he stayed around you it would most likely lead to Bucky trying to pull you into bed for snuggles. He’d claim you’d look too cozy to be doing work, you'd wear one of his shirts and maybe some pants.

With a sigh you lean back in your chair, a couple pops coming for your back. “Four outta five…” you muttered to yourself as you took the papers and stacked them on the other reports. As you reached for the final one there was a knock on the door, “come in, Bucky.” You called over your shoulder.

“How’d you know it was me?” Bucky slipped through the doorway, he walked over and spun your chair around.

“Your knock is very polite,” was all you said. It was true, he’d knock loud enough to be heard but not too loud to seem demanding.

“Thanks…?” Bucky sat on the edge of your bed, “I wanted to ask you something,” Bucky looked to the floor.

“Talk to me,” You cheered and gave your full attention.

“I have a list of things in my notebook, just stuff I don't get- like understand. Would you mind helping and explaining some stuff?” His face was red and his eyes looked down, it was painfully obvious he was embarrassed.

“Sure,” You shrugged and Bucky smiled. He got up and went to get the book.

Debit Card Machine 

Bucky was sitting across from you at a small diner, you went after rush hour to give yourself space and also Bucky doesn’t like crowded and loud spaces. Bucky had gotten a B.L.T. and you got something similar but you’d never been here before so you weren’t exactly sure what was in it- but it was good.

The waitress came by, the uniform was very retro like the rest of the place. It wasn’t way back to the 40’s more late 80’s early 90’s, Bucky had said he liked coming here because of the jukebox even though that was way past his time. He found it easier than an iphone, which was on his list of things to learn.

“Coffee or tea?” the lady asked.

“No, just the bill please,” You smiled at her, she nodded and walked away. Bucky got up and moved to sit beside you because he didn’t want to learn by looking at the thing upside down, the debit card itself was slightly conquered territory but he had the idea.

“And you said this was on your phone as well?” Bucky picked up the card and looked at it, his fingers running over the numbers that were lifted.

“You have to connect your card and all that to your phone so you just hover over the machine and it’ll pay.” You mimed the action of paying with your phone over nothing for Bucky to get the gist.

The machine showed up and you explained all the buttons, the waitress seemed confused because Bucky looked your age, she would have expected a guy to know how this works but she also kept her distance like most waitresses do.

“So you put your card in, the chip end goes in,” you showed. “Then you make sure the price matches the one on the receipt, if it does then you hit ‘ok’,” you did hit ‘ok’. “Then you have to tip, I personally go the percentage route so I’d click the far left button,” It made a sound when you did. “Now, depending on the service you can tip a different amount, I go fifteen percent as a baseline but she was really nice so I’ll tip twenty.” you typed it in, Bucky had a shocked face.

“Twenty dollars, that’s another meal!” He whispered, trying not to let the lady hear; she did.

“Twenty percent, our total goes from eighteen-tirty to twenty-forty five,” You showed the number again, then you clicked okay and proceeded to type in your four digit number. Bucky watched over your shoulder and tried to remember it all, when you were showing things at home he’d take notes and have a couple diagrams to remember it all but his notebook was no longer in sight. You glanced down after giving the machine back to see him rolling the book onto itself under the table, Bucky shoved it into his back pocket when you both got up to leave.

“Do you mind going over it again when we get home?” Bucky asked as he held your hand, the Avenger tower in sight.

“Of course,” you left a little kiss on his cheek.

Cooking Bacon

You didn’t remember reading this when you first went over the list. Granted, there was tons of stuff on Bucky’s list. It seemed he added it on later, like he watched Wanda cook and had a little idea to add. Either way, you both were in the kitchen in front of the stove. You both had aprons on, yours was a nice navy blue while Bucky’s read: ‘kiss the cook’. He wanted the navy one but then lost a game of rock, paper, scissors.

The pan was heating up on the stove, you had the lid ready beside it on the counter. Bucky seemed nervous because of the idea of the grease spitting out at him, he was starting to stand slightly behind you or away from the stove in an area he thought he wouldn’t get hit. “Alright,” you clapped your hands together after feeling over the pan to check the temperature. “We are gonna cook four pieces, so I’m gonna take them out of the package,” You were careful around the stove because Bucky seemed extremely nervous for you. He kept making little ‘peep’ing noises like he was about to say ‘watch out’ or something but decided against it, it was cute.

You put in two and then Bucky came over to put the others in, he was so leaned back he could barely get the bacon strips into the pan. On the last strip he haphazardly dropped it in, this caused the grease to spray back. A couple bits landed on your arm but a few more hit Bucky.

“Fuck!” He jumped back as you went to cover it quickly. The lid steamed up in seconds. Bucky was at the sink, washing his arm off. “Does it, like, burn through stuff?”  His tone was so concerned but you couldn't help but laugh at the question.

“No, you’re safe,” you nodded. Bucky came back over and stood right behind you, his chin nestled on your shoulder as you waited a bit. His arms circled around your torso and he also watched the pan, he didn’t know what to look for per se, but he did it anyways. “This should be good,” you stepped forward which caused Bucky to let go. “We’re gonna lift the lid and start to flip them, alright?” You grabbed the tongs and clicked them a few times, it was a thing you always did.

“Let’s go,” Bucky’s voice wanted to sound excited but he was slightly scared.

You lifted the lid and stood off to the side, quickly but calmly you flipped the pieces over and then covered the lid. “So, we give that time, then we'll take the lid off and just move them around and flip them more, you can do that,” You smiled over your shoulder to see Bucky writing something down. It was cute how much he cared about the little things, you’d never been taught how to cook bacon or cooking in general, it was something you just found yourself doing.

Bucky took the tongs and went for it, he lifted the lid and went straight into flipping them. After he found they weren’t spitting back he seemed to loosen up, his shoulders rolled back and he seemed to find a comfortable position. He was looking over to you for any tips but you stood there with a smile on your face, he was actually doing a good job.

You got out a plate and paper towel, Bucky transferred the strips over. He watched you pat them down with a paper towel, this was something you adopted into your life because you weren’t the biggest fan of all the grease.

“This is a big part, so listen up,” Bucky looked over from eating one of his two pieces. “Write this down, never and I mean never pour this grease down the sink- ever.” Bucky had the piece of meat sticking out of his mouth as he scribbled it down, he hummed and nodded to let you know he got it. “There is a can under the sink, grab it for me, please?” You picked up the pan but stayed over the stove, Bucky came back with an open can. There was nothing in it except congealed grease, he seemed grossed out but you were used to it. “Dump it in here after it’s cool but not solidified, just don’t pour it down the sink.” You poured the stuff in and left it on the counter to cool off, Bucky finally bit down on the piece of bacon before handing over your two pieces.

“I think that went well,” Bucky nodded, he leaned against the counter with a tired sigh. You didn’t have to heart to make fun of him for being scared of the grease, he seemed proud of himself. So you just stood beside him and rested your head on his shoulder, “good job, Buck.”

Skin Care

Bucky was the type of boyfriend to sit in the bathroom and just watch you put on or take off your makeup, he was truly put under a trance when he would watch you. In the beginning he’d ask questions or ask what you were doing and why, but now he had watched you so much he’d pass you the tube of mascara as you finished on your brows.

Your skin had adapted to a long and specific routine, this was your time for about ten minutes before bed to fully unwind and have some quiet. You would rotate products and skip over some of the serums each night but there were the basics you were going to teach Bucky: Wash, tone, moisturize.

Before you went to the drug store you asked Bucky about his skin, he really had no idea what you were talking about and half the time he’d shrug it off. “I don’t pay attention to my skin,” was a common phrase. You lightly touched his face and felt his T-zone, he joked that sometimes if he opened his mouth really wide his skin would feel super tight and dry.

“So then you have dry skin,” you said. Thinking of the products to get him, Bucky didn’t have acne, it was more for cleaning the skin and keeping it healthy.

“I think,” Bucky really felt like a pain. He was trying to help you out so you could find good products but all he was giving was half answers, ‘ya, I guess’ or ‘I think so’.

But currently you both were standing in the bathroom, it was right before bed and Bucky adjusted his headband for about the hundredth time. He said it was too tight but you knew he was being a baby about it, his hair was also pulled back into a bun.

“We are gonna wash our face,” You showed how warm the water should be before splashing your face. Bucky copied right after, and awkwardly leaned forward to make sure water didn’t drip on the floor after while he waited for you to move on. “Now we are gonna wash our face, so take that bottle with the blue cap and put a bit in your hand. A little goes a long way,” You added and did the same, both faces in the bathroom were sudsy and ready. Bucky went in first to wash it off, his hands cupping under the tap and collecting as much water as he could before leaning right in to wash off his face. He did it twice.

“Pat dry?” He remembered you saying that before. His hands held the fresh towel, you hummed in response because your face was in water. Bucky patted and gently rubbed around, when you stood up you dried off as well. Both faces were damp, Bucky looked at the little water droplets running down your neck before turning back to the task at hand. “Toner- don't tell me, I know this one!” He grabbed your arm, “red cap?” His face lit up with joy as you nodded, “I got this!” He cockily laughed, he knew what he was doing.

Bucky took the little cotton round and drizzled some of the toner around on it, he passed one over to you before making one for himself. Bucky leaned in and got super close to the mirror, he watched intently as you rubbed your face. He copied, it was like the cotton pad was barely touching his face. The last thing he cleaned was his nose before pulling the cotton away, he scanned over the pad and saw the gross residue.

“Ew, that was on my face?” Bucky was enchanted by the pad, holding it super close to see the leftover dirt. You had already thrown away the pad, it made you giggle to see Bucky so hypnotized by literal oil and dirt.

“Moisturizer, final step for you,” You sang. “I like to pick it up with my knuckle, like this,” You unscrewed the lid and tapped your pointer finger knuckle to the opaque, soft cream. Bucky took his new one and did the same. He wiped it into the palm of the opposite hand, “rub it around, heat it up before putting it on,” He did just that. “You’re a pro, Buck!” You giggled as Bucky meticulously put it on. He was applying it upwards and spreading it evenly around, his fingers gently dancing across his face as the cream worked its way in.

“How do I look?” He turned to you.

“Like you’re glowing.”

“I feel like it,” Bucky laughed and looked back at the mirror. He tilted his head around to see how his skin would look under the light in the bathroom, he seemed to forget you were there and was completely in awe of what he did. Bucky brought his fingers to his face to feel around, the moisturizer had set and now his skin looked full and plump. The pads of his fingers gently tapped his cheeks and made the shimmer on his cheekbones move and twinkle.

“Alright, that’s enough admiring yourself,” you laughed and pushed him out of the way. Bucky stayed to watch you finish up your routine.

Record Player

As a way to say thanks for helping Bucky with over fifty niche things, Bucky decided to teach you how to properly use a record player.

This wasn’t any old player, this was Bucky’s player. No one was allowed to touch it without permission and even though you have never gotten the green light, you asked almost every week. This was one of the only things Bucky could really hold onto, when he touched the dark, stained wood he could almost see himself back in the 40’s; almost.

He once got really mad at the beginning of your friendship, you really didn’t know it was his, you just thought it was a talking piece. Bucky ended up yelling at you, he had just changed the needle and you were running your finger on it to see how small it was. Steve had ran in because Bucky was yelling- it was a whole ordeal that ended with Bucky not talking to you for three months.

But now there was trust and Bucky liked that after that little fiasco you didn’t even think to touch it, he could really trust you and now was a great time to show off his favourite thing. Bucky was all giddy to show his record player off to you, you were grabbing some water before he started and you noticed Bucky was using the cuff of his sleeve to wipe off a smudge before going back to inspect it.

“Alright, let’s start!” Bucky smiled. This man didn’t start with the parts and what they do, he started with the history of it all. Bucky pulled all the facts he knew about record players in general and the vintage one that was sitting in front of the both of you, his eyes seemed to light up with each new fact that popped into his mind. Part of you wanted to check your watch but you also had never seen this man get passionate over an object before, he could get passionate over people- you, Steve, Sam, etc. -but never over this. “Are you ready to play music?” He reached over into his bin and pulled a record you’ve never seen.

“Which one’s that?” You asked as Bucky pulled it out of it’s sleeve.

“It’s just a random one I picked up a week ago for this,” Bucky held the record the proper way. “Thumb on the center and index on the edge, don’t touch the actual grooves because the oils in your hands can clog them up,” Bucky moved his hand around to show you.

“Sorry, what do you mean you bought that record for this? And why does the needle look different?” you noticed the needle looked extremely worn, it looked great and new a couple days ago.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky dismissed it. “So now we are gonna place the record softly,” Bucky placed it down and turned back to you. He talked about the arm and the needle before showing you how to put it on manually and then with the little leaver, after showing them each way twice he stepped back and offered you a turn.

“Seems easy,” you mumbled and took the arm, you were doing it manually first. The movements were extremely soft and slow, when the needle made contact it took half a second before a really grainy sound came through the speakers. It sounded wrong but Bucky nodded, he applauded you for taking the needle off as well. Then you did it with the leaver, right when it was about to touch you thought it looked off so you nudged it a bit- bad idea. The needle didn’t even hit the record and part of the arm scratched the recessed vinyl. “Shit!” You yelled and ripped it off. Causing the record to scratch, the sound and the record itself, there was a shine to the edge. “Oh god! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to mess it all up- I really didn’t mean to break it- god, you must so ma- I’m sorry-” as you fumbled over yourself Bucky just started to laugh. “What?” you were about to cry because of the guilt.

“That was a sixties record and a needle that is five years old, you didn't do anything. I bought it because I knew this was bound to happen.” Bucky only laughed at your exasperated sigh, you fell into his hug like a child. “Poor baby,” he mockingly cooed, he found it so funny how you were screaming apologies at him even though it was painfully obvious it was a shit record and needle.

“That was scary, I think I need a nap after that…” you sighed.

Bucky threw you over his shoulder, “thinking the same thing, doll.

[unhealthyfanobsession]

If you’re still taking prompts:

“Keeping a secret from your best friend is difficult... but when that secret is that you're madly in love with her, it's downright impossible. At least that's what Cassian thought, until he was a little tipsy and sharing a sleeping bag with said best friend. (College, modern AU)”

With smut please?🧎🏾‍♀️🙏🏽👀🥺

Oh hey bestie! So I think maybe you had like after a college party in mind for this but I went a… different way. Also it’s only smut-adjacent because I think good smut requires a Drabble of its own I think I’m sorry. Hope you enjoy!!!

Camping.

Nesta had two weeks between the end of her internship and the beginning of her last year of college, and somehow, she let herself get dragged along on her sister’s annual camping trip.

Their whole friend group was weird and twisted around like Ivy vines with who was closest to who, who was related to who, who was dating who, who had slept with who’s father (looking at you MOR!), and Nesta tended to avoid the big group things.

But this was only Feyre, Rhys, Azriel, and the real reason she was there… Cassian. Fucking Cassian dragging her off into the woods.

Nesta loved her sisters. She did. She wouldn’t spend time with them and pretend she didn’t hate their boyfriends if she didn’t love them. (Pretending not to hate Rhys and Lucien, for Nesta, pretty much required the energy of a full time job.)

She loved her sisters. But she was there for Cassian. Because she liked Cassian. Genuinely and entirely liked him. Nesta Archeron liked another human being. They’d been best friends since eighth grade when he tried to ask her out on the swing set and she elbowed him in the jaw.

Saying yes to that middle school date would’ve been the worst mistake of her life. Because then she’d have had this short drama filled relationship with Cassian and she wouldn’t have gotten to keep him. And she really loved that she got to keep him. Even if sometimes she wished he’d been her first kiss instead of Tomas.

Anyway, when he said he was going on this camping trip Nesta realized she had to go too. Because there was no way she was spending her free time somewhere that he wasn’t. He was her person. The person she wanted to spend her free time with.

“Pathetic,” Cassian grinned, plucking the pack right off of her back as if it weighed no more than a purse. As if she hadn’t been struggling under its weight for the past 4 kilometres.

“I agreed to camping. I didn’t realize a 7 hour hike was involved to get to the damn place.”

“Two hours at most, sweetheart.” Nesta scowled, pretending, as she always did, to hate his little endearments. “And all of the best spots require a hike. Otherwise they’re overcrowded.”

“Maybe overcrowded is a good thing. Maybe overcrowded means loud and safe instead of offering ourselves up to be a bear buffet.”

“I’ll protect you from any bears, I promise, Nes.”

Nesta glared. “You’re going to fight off a bear if it tries to eat me?”

“Of course I am,” Cassian nodded. “These muscles aren’t just for show.”

Nesta laughed. “How sad I’m going to lose my best friend on this trip. Don’t worry I’ll come up with something nice for the tombstone. “Here lies Cassian. Tried to fight a bear so his muscles would have a purpose.”

“I take it back, you can get eaten by the bear.”

“I’m going to shove you in front of the bear.”

Their water break had landed then both a few hundred feet behind Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel, so Cassian kept hold of her backpack as they moved, teasing her that he was still faster with two packs than she was with none.

When they arrived at the little clearing Nesta had to admit it was beautiful. Serene. A big patch of grass surrounded by trees with a stunning view over the mountains from a clearing just a few feet away.

“Worth the hike?” Cassian asked as he set up their tent. That was the deal. If Nesta was going to camp then he had to do all of the work. Because she didn’t know how to do it. Also he had to share his tent with her because seriously? Why would she own a tent? She wasn’t a damn mountain man.

“It is really pretty.”

“I told you you’d like camping, Nesta!” Feyre called out from over fifty feet away where Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta all banded together to force her and Rhys to put their tent. Far away from the other two. Nesta was so not sleeping on the ground AND listening to her little sister have sex all night.

“Cassian?” Consciousness pulled lightly through Cassian’s sleepy mind. “Cass? CASS!” He shot bolt upright, body instinctively turning to Nesta, looking her over, checking her for injuries or any other thing that might have her yelling his name into the pitch black tent.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Cassian laughed. It was probably 3am and she’d just woken him up, and still he was laughing. Man he had it bad.

“What’s up, buttercup?” He made a show of flipping around to face her even though he couldn’t really see her.

“I’m freezing.”

As his eyes adjusted, Cassian looked her over with a frown. She was bundled up in her sleeping bag, wearing his sweater… which he hadn’t given her, but he had discarded in between them before he went to sleep so that was fair game he guessed. It was far from the first time in over a decade of friendship that she’d stolen his sweater, but man… it still did something to him.

“Your sleeping bag isn’t made for below freezing temperatures, is it?”

Nesta stared at him. Blinked. “No. Why would it have to be? It’s August!”

“It’s colder up in the mountains,” Cassian explained. “Especially over night.”

“Great. I’ve been brought into the mountains to freeze to death and now Eris is going to win the gold medal for our year.”

Cassian laughed, “Well I can’t allow that. The horror.” This was probably a bad idea. No it was definitely a bad idea, but the words couldn’t be stopped from leaving his mouth once they popped into his mind. “Come share mine.”

Cassian half unzipped his sleeping bag and made a show of shuffling himself over.

“You’re too big.” She said.

“Thanks I work out,” Nesta glared at his cocky smirk. “Come on Nes, it’s this or letting Eris win the gold medal.”

Nesta huffed, but unzipped her sleeping bag and crawled over to his, her legs were cool as they tangled with his in the tight sleeping bag. Cassian pulled her in, one arm wrapping instinctively around her shoulders to pull her against his chest, before he zipped the sleeping bag up again after her.

This had been such a bad idea. But what could he do? Let her freeze?

Cassian told Nesta everything, so it was already difficult enough to be keeping a secret from his best friend... but when that secret was that he had been madly in love with her since middle school, the situation became impossible. And pulling her perfect body tight up against his and wrapping her in his arms, hands moving up and down her shoulders quickly to try and warm her up, was not helping the situation.

“Thanks,” Nesta murmured sleepily. “I’m already a lot more comfortable.”

Me too, Cassian thought but would never say.

“Hey Cass?” Nesta’s voice was teasing. “What do we do if you wake up with morning wood?”

Cassian chuckled into her hair, a little bit drunk on the familiar scent of rosehips and iron will.

“Then I guess we’ll finally have sex.” He deadpanned.

Nesta’s jaw dropped. Ok. Bad joke. “I’m not having sex with you for the first time in a tent Cassian!”

Now Cassian’s jaw dropped. That was her issue with his suggestion? “I… Nesta I was joking. But… the tent is the problem? The only problem?”

“Grow a pair!” Nesta batted at him with her hand, an impressive feat considering she was all but pinned between him and the sleeping bag. “I thought this was you finally making a move.”

Cassian stared down at her. It was pitch black, but even with just the shadowy outlines of her features, he could see her exact expression in his mind.

“I wouldn’t use you freezing as a ploy to make a move, Nesta.”

“And why not?” She humphed, “it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“It’s… coercive.”

“Do I look coerced to you, Cassian?” Nesta ran her foot up his bare calf and Cassian shuddered.

“I can’t have sex with you if you’re looking for a friends with benefits, Nes.” Nesta paused her movements. “I… fuck, our friendship means so much to me and I’m so afraid to fuck it up. And if we start having sex I won’t be able to handle it being just sex and you’ll start to resent me so we just… shouldn’t go there.”

Nesta’s arms wrapped around him now, struggling to span the full width of his chest. “And if it wasn’t just sex?”

“Please don’t fuck with me about this,” he whispered. Low and Ernest in a way he almost never was.

“What?”

“Dont joke about this if you’re playing around or I don’t… you have to know, Nes. You have to know how completely in love with you I am.”

“Yeah,” Nesta tucked her head under his chin. “I know. I’ve just been waiting for you to make a move.”

It was dark. Cassian could barely see her. But there, with his arms around his best friend in the world, sharing a sleeping bag to keep her warm, Cassian nudged her out of his chest and found her lips in the pitch black.

Why had he kept this secret for so long? Everything in the world was better when he was kissing his best friend.

[triptuckers]

Honesty - Kaz Brekker x reader

Request: oh hell yea "I saw we could send in requests which you don’t need to tell me twice bc I have some things in mind if that’s okay? I had an idea for a Kaz x female reader where he’s had feelings for you for the longest time but has never acted upon those feelings due to his trauma. Until one day something doesn’t go as planned during a Dregs job because his thoughts are with you and he lost his focus for just a moment. This is the moment he realises he has to talk to you about his crush on you but when he looks for you he notices you somewhere secluded in the arms of Jesper making out. How would he react to the fact that the girl he has had feelings for has been secretly dating his right hand? Lots of angst if that’s okay? 😬" Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader (plus some slight Jesper x reader) Summary: When Kaz finally figures out his feelings for you, and wants to tell you about it, he finds something he wasn't prepared to see Warnings:  angst oh god so. much. angst. let's see what else uhh mentions of violence, bruises, language, kaz being a lil jealous jerk Word count: 2.6K A/N: this is the one yall I got this request and HA I was so ready to write some heartbreaking angst, get ready for this one (also I wasnt sure if I had to tag this as kaz x reader of jesper x reader, but as you can see I went with kaz) TAG LIST (grishaverse): @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15 @dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 @marlenaisnthappy TAG LIST (Kaz Brekker): @mufnasa @Janesofia7 @stairscortana add yourself to my tag lists here

Because it was a one-person kind of job and it involved picking quite a few locks, Kaz told the crows to take the night off, while he took care of it.

Given that it was very rare for Kaz to tell you all that you could have the night off, neither of you was stupid enough to question it. Instead, you all wished him good luck and took off to do all those things you normally missed out on when you were away on a job.

Everyone trusted Kaz to be able to handle a simple job on his own. You'd spend enough time with him to know he'd be alright.

And he was.

It was indeed a simple job, all Kaz had to do was sneak into a merchant's home, pick the lock of the safe in the office, steal an important contract between two merchants, and get out.

Part of him liked the solitude of wandering around a big house in the dark. But another part of him wished you'd be there with him. Kaz had shook his head to get you out of his mind, and continued to do the thing he needed to do.

After successfully completing the job and getting the contract he needed, Kaz is standing in front of a closed door, listening for any sounds in the hallway on the other side of the door.

His minds wanders off to you again.

You'd wished him good luck before he walked out the door, and you'd given him one of you signature smiles. Saints, he loved your smile.

He was sure you could fix anything, all you had to do was smile at him. You comforted him in so many ways, and you probably had no idea. Though you could figure it out if you sensed something was going on.

The clues were all right there, all you had to do was find out all the times he asked for you help were all just excuses to be able to spend more time with you.

It was stupid, really. He would invite you up to his office to go over plans for a job, even though he had figured it all out already. He'd pair the two of you on jobs. He did anything to be able to spend time with you.

A cloud slowly moves through the night sky, allowing the moon to illuminate the room. The sudden light abruptly brings Kaz back to reality.

He'd been standing in front of the door for way too long, just thinking about you. He curses himself for losing his focus. For allowing himself to get so lost in his thoughts on you.

Kaz really needs to do something about it. It's almost embarrassing how starstruck he is by you. And he really can't have you distract him on a job like that again, even if you're not in the room with him.

After listening again for sounds in the hallway, Kaz slowly pushes the door open. Upon discovering the hallway is empty, he steps out of the office and makes his way to the front door of the house.

All the way back to the Slat, he's thinking of ways on how to tell you. He's never been really good at talking about his feelings. And he wants to make sure he tells you the right thing. The last thing he wants is to stutter to try and find the words to say to you.

Eventually, he settles on just getting you alone first. He'll figure out what to say after that.

The walk to the Slat takes a while, given that the Barrel is on the other side of Ketterdam. His leg starts to ache but he ignores it, he'd endured worse.

When he finally sees the Slat in the distance, he notices there are still some lights burning. The window of your room is dark. Kaz hopes you're just sitting downstairs.

But when he enters the kitchen, it's nearly empty. Except for Nina, who is sitting there having a cup of tea before bed.

'Hey!' she says. 'How'd it go?'

In response, Kaz shows her the folded piece of paper.

Nina grins. 'Told you it would be an easy job for you.' she says.

'It was.' says Kaz. 'Have you seen Y/N?'

To his surprise, Nina starts smirking.

'Oh yeah, I've seen Y/N.' says Nina. 'She went out back a while ago.'

Kaz moves to walk to the back door but Nina speaks up again.

'Kaz, I wouldn't do that if I were you.' says Nina. 'I don't think she wants anyone to see her.'

He gives her a confused look, not noticing the playful look in Nina's eyes. He then starts to worry about you. Did something happen to you? Why didn't you want anyone to see you?

Kaz quickly walks to the door and opens it, ignoring Nina who yells at him not to do so. He abruptly freezes in the doorway.

You're indeed there, but you're not alone. A tall figure, who Kaz quickly identifies as Jesper, has you pinned to the wall of the alley.

Aside from the street lamp, it's completely dark. It's hard to tell which limps belong to you and which ones belong to Jesper.

Kaz just stands there, rooted to the spot. He can't move. He just stands there, watching the girl he fell in love with kiss another man. And it's not just any other man, it's Jesper.

The cheerful sharpshooter who had been his right hand for so long. He'd been by Kaz' side for years, joining the Dregs just shortly after you had. Jesper had managed to save Kaz a number of times with his quick shooting. And now he's standing there, kissing you.

Kaz feels sick, like he's going to throw up. Like the air got knocked out of his lungs all at once. The world is spinning. This must be some bad dream, he was asleep and this is a nightmare, it isn't real.

But then you finally seem to notice something is going on.

You pull away from Jesper and look past his arm, to see Kaz standing there with a bewildered look on his face.

'Kaz?' you say, not letting go of Jesper. 'Are you alright? Did something happen on the job?'

Jesper turns around as well now, curiously looking at Kaz.

Instead of looking at you and answering you, Kaz turns his attention to Jesper. The sick feeling in his stomach fades away and gets replaced by anger. Jesper had the guts to kiss you, his girl.

Rage takes over, the same kind of rage that had gotten him the name Dirtyhands. It flashes like a red light in front of his eyes. Without wasting another second, Kaz raises his cane and jabs one of Jesper's legs, sending him to the ground.

'What the fuck, Kaz!' you yell at him.

You rush over to Jesper's side, but Kaz roughly shoves you away with his cane, kneeling next to the taller boy. He angrily looks at him, gritting his teeth.

'You don't get to kiss her just because I can't.' says Kaz in a low voice.

Both you and Jesper look confused, having no clue wat Kaz is talking about.

'Saints, what on earth are you talking about?' says Jesper, rubbing the sore spot on his leg.

'She belongs with me, and you can't kiss her because I can't- because I won't- I forbid you from it.' says Kaz.

You look at Kaz, not believing what you're hearing. You'd never seen him like this, so angry, so full of rage. And you'd never seen him use his cane to hurt his crows before.

'I don't know what the fuck you are talking about.' says Jesper. 'But I'd appreciate it if next time, you'd say something instead of using that damned cane of yours. Now if you could excuse us, we went out back to have some privacy.'

Kaz' eyes widen in anger and you watch in horror as he raises a fist and swings it down, hitting Jesper's cheek hard. Before he can strike again, you catch a hold of Kaz' arm and drag him away from Jesper.

You drag him all the way back through the door and into the kitchen. Nina looks up, probably having heard something was going on. It takes one look from you for her to hurry up the stairs, leaving you alone.

You take Kaz over to one of the tables and roughly push him into a chair.

'Stay here.' you say as you glare at him.

Kaz, a feeling of numbness washing over him, doesn't protest.

You walk out the door again and he can hear you softly talking to Jesper. A while later, you and Jesper walk into the kitchen. Kaz sees a bruise is already forming on Jesper's cheek, right where he hit him.

Jesper looks at Kaz with a mixed expression of pain and confusion on his face.

You find some ice and put it on Jesper's cheek.

'Keep that on there.' you tell him. 'Go upstairs, I'll come to your room in a second. I have to talk to Kaz first.'

Jesper nods and as soon as he's out the door, you furiously turn to Kaz.

'You're going to tell me what the fuck that was about right now. No lies, no excuses, you're going to tell me the truth. Now.' you say, dragging out a chair and sitting down in front of Kaz.

'You don't get to kiss her because I can't?' you say, repeating the words he said earlier. 'What the hell was all that about?'

Normally, Kaz knows exactly what to say. All the time. He's always got an answer ready. But whenever it's just the two of you, it's like he forgets how to talk.

'Well?' you press on. 'Say something, for Saints sake!'

When he still doesn't say something, you slam your hand down on the table, and Kaz flinches slightly. You never got this angry.

'I don't want to see Jesper kissing you because I want to do that. That should have been me.' says Kaz.

'Well you can't even take your damn gloves off, did you really think you'd be able to kiss me?' you say in a cold voice.

'With time, maybe.' says Kaz.

You sigh and softly shake your head. You've been part of the Dregs for years. You care a lot about Kaz. But the bond you have with him is just not a romantic one. Apparently, Kaz didn't think so.

'You fucking hit Jesper.' you say, your voice less loud. 'He's going to have a bruise on his cheek.'

'I was angry.' is all Kaz says.

'Clearly.' you say. 'You need to apologise to him.'

Kaz looks at you. 'Yes, Kaz, you have to say you're sorry.' you say.

When Kaz gets up, you stop him.

'Not now.' you say. 'He doesn't want to see you.'

Kaz sits back down again and starts to avoid your gaze. After sitting in silence for a while, you sigh.

'Why'd you have to do it?' you wonder out loud.

'I don't know.' says Kaz. 'Just- seeing someone else kiss you like that, it made me so angry. Like something snapped inside of me.'

'If your really feel the way you say you feel about me, why didn't you say something sooner?' you say.

'I was scared.' admits Kaz. 'That you wouldn't have me because I wouldn't be able to kiss you, to touch you.'

'Physical affection isn't the only thing in a relationship.' you say.

'I know, I know, I just-' 'Kaz.'

He finally looks at you and you can see he's hurt. But you'd rather tell him the truth than lie to protect his feelings.

'Even if you would be able to touch me, a relationship would have never worked. Not for me, at least. I'm sorry, Kaz, I'm not going to sugarcoat it.' you say. 'I love you and I care about you, but not like that. I'm in love with Jesper. We didn't tell you or the other crows because if word gets out, people will see it as one of our weaknesses. I don't want to know what they'd do to get to me, or to get to Jesper.'

You look at Kaz, scanning his face for a reaction. He's letting your words sink in, thinking about them.

'Look, Kaz, I'm sorry. I'd rather tell you the truth than lie to make you feel better. I love Jesper, and right now, I have no intention at all of breaking up with him. You're going to have to find a way to deal with that.' you say and you get up.

'Apologise to him tomorrow, I'll talk to him.' you say. 'And next time, use your words. Not your cane or your fists.'

Kaz watches as you walk toward the stairs, to get to Jesper's room. He watches you as you disappear out of his line of sight. Regret starts to set in. He shouldn't have hit Jesper. He just felt so angry when he saw you with someone else.

You love Jesper, and there's nothing he can do about it. Right now, all he could do was sit in silence, getting lost in his thoughts wondering about what could have been if he had only talked to you sooner.

Meanwhile, you have reached Jesper's room. You knock and open the door, finding Jesper sitting on the bed. He's still got the ice pressed against his cheek.

'Hey.' you say as you walk up to him. Jesper briefly smiles at you but winches immediately at the movement. You sit down next to him and carefully take his hand in yours so you could remove the ice and take a look at his cheek.

Indeed, the skin of his cheek is red, a bruise forming. You lean in to softly press a kiss to his cheek before putting the ice back in place.

'What did Kaz have to say?' says Jesper.

'Um, that he has feelings for me. And that seeing you kiss me just made him angry. That's why he hit you.' you say.

'Should've used his words instead.' mumbles Jesper.

'That's what I told him.' you say. 'But I also told him to find a way to deal with it, because I am not going to break up with you.'

At your words, Jesper smiles. 'Thanks for kissing my war injury better.' he says, making you chuckle. 'I love you.'

'Love you too, Jes.' you say. You smile and get up to go and get ready for bed.

Little did you know that Kaz was standing right outside the door. He'd stopped there on his way to his room on the top floor. The three words you spoke to Jesper stung in his chest.

He'd give anything to hear you say those words to him. But you had made it clear that wasn't going to happen. Eventually, Kaz would have to find a way to deal with it.

After all, both you and Jesper are two of his most valuable and skilled crows. He couldn't just dismiss you because you love each other.

He'd find a way to deal with it. But not tonight. For tonight, he settles for going to his room and opening a bottle of kvas instead.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 3: Plan B

Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, drama, angst

WC: 5.1k

Warnings for this chapter: language (jk will continue to have a potty mouth), a gun, attempted murder

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @sugaslittlekookies @jaebeomsblackgf @moon-asia

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger. 

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"Excuse m-me, sir."

Jungkook turns and his heart stops in his chest when he sees the wide eyes of a horribly familiar girl staring up at him.

You're clutching a piece of paper in your hands as a smile spreads on your face when you look at him closer. Jungkook blinks a few times, the rest of him frozen in horror at being caught.

"Th-This is for you." You hold out the paper.

Jungkook takes it limply, his eyes never leaving yours.

When the initial shock leaves his body, he tears his eyes away from you and looks down at what you gave him. He squints in confusion at what he sees. Then he looks back up at his target.

What the hell is this?

"Uh-"

"I hope it isn't c-creepy. I j-just thought it might make you s-smile." You brighten when he looks back down at the picture.

Jungkook swallows thickly.

On the piece of notebook paper, is a terribly drawn picture. But that isn't what's gotten his attention. On it, is an image of what he can only guess to be himself, sitting on a bench.

He looks back up at you, "Um, I don't understand..." His voice gives out on him as he fights the urge to bolt. Everything about this situation is telling him to run. You know him. You've known he was following you.

But you aren't outright telling him that you know...

What the hell does he do now?

You smile shyly, a small blush creeping up your cheeks. "I know it m-must seem weird. But p-please let m-me explain."

He nods uncertainly, forcing his feet to stay planted where he is.

"Ok," You wring your hands together and he watches in confusion as you blink a few times. "O-Ok, I like to d-draw. And sometimes when I d-don't have anything else to draw, I draw p-people. Then I give them the p-picture as a present to make them h-happy!" You bounce a little on the balls of your feet.

"But-..." Jungkook scratches his neck. "When did you do this?" He's starting to think maybe he's out of the line of fire. Perhaps he jumped to conclusions and you don't suspect him of following you at all.

You put a finger to your chin as you think about that. Then you tap your cheek, blinking hard a few times. "Mmm, I think it was Wednesday? Maybe Thursday..." You start mumbling to yourself.

Jungkook raises a brow, watching you curiously.

He looks around, no one seems to be paying attention to the two of you. Good, he can't be seen as one of the last people to be with you.

You suddenly speak up again, drawing his attention back to you.

"W-Well, anyway. I decided to m-make it and give it to you b-because you looked sad. Are y-you lonely?" You look up at him with big eyes and he blinks, looking away for a second to regain his composure.

Damn, she's nosy.

Jungkook clears his throat and looks back at you, "I'm not lonely. And as much as I appreciate the thought, I don't need this." Then he shoves the picture into your chest, making you flinch and grab it.

"Have a good day." He says curtly, then he turns and walks as quickly as he can away from the situation.

After a minute of walking, Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief to be out of that. He messed up. Now he really needs to get this done quickly before the target figures anything out for real this time.

The relief is short-lived though. A second later, he flinches when he hears a voice calling out to him and the sound of feet running.

"Wait! Mister, p-please wait!"

Jungkook pulls his hat down further and picks up his pace, trying to find a crowd he can lose you in.

He's squeezing in-between people and pushing past others, ignoring their sounds of annoyance. Then a hand grabs the sleeve of his jacket and he internally groans.

Shit, she's fast.

Jungkook shakes you off of him and turns to glare at you.

 "What?" He snaps.

You blink and cock your head to the side for a second before straightening it out, a crooked smile forming on your face.

"I w-wasn't able to introduce m-myself." You state simply.

Jungkook audibly sighs, "Look, I'm busy."

"Oh." Your face falls and he resists the urge to roll his eyes.

You look at the ground for a second, then you look back at him, your eyes bright again and the smile back on your face. "P-Please, take the picture. I have n-no room in my bag f-for it."

Jungkook sighs again and snatches the picture out of your hands, "Fine. Happy?" He waves it in the air before folding it and sticking it in his jacket pocket.

You nod happily, "My n-name is ____."

 I know.

"Alright." He looks away, trying to give you the hint that he's done with the conversation.

"What's y-your name?"

Gosh, she never shuts up, does she?

"Jungkook."

...

...

...Fuck.

Why in the literal hell would he say his real name just now?

He wasn't thinking. He just wanted you to shut up. 

You see the look of pure panic on his face and laugh to make him feel better, "Nice t-to meet you, J-Jungkook." He must have trouble talking with people, you think. 

"Ok, well yeah, it was nice to meet you. Thank you for the picture. Goodbye." He turns and all but runs off, finally disappearing into a crowd.

You watch him go into the big crowd and you smile, he was so kind. Giggling and looking down at your fingers, you turn and start making your way home. _______________

Jungkook hauls ass all the way back to his place, constantly making sudden turns and glancing around to make sure you're not hot on his heels.

When he finally makes it up the stairs and into his apartment, he locks the door and yanks his shoes off, hurling them at the front door and flinching when they slam against it loudly.

There aren't enough curse words in his vocabulary for him to scream into his pillow that would satisfy him right now. He starts to shake, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as his brain goes into overdrive trying to figure out what to do now.

He's never been caught.

Not once. 

He's never even been close to getting caught. 

In and out, one and done.

That's how it's always been for him.

Jungkook takes his hat off and tosses it onto the tiny dining table, then he walks over to his bed and flops onto it, face down.

"I quit." He mumbles into the comforter forlornly.

Then he lays there for a minute, contemplating everything.

"I can't quit..." He mutters to himself a second later.

It's impossible.

He can't quit.

He just needs to get it over with tonight.

No more hesitating, no more distractions, no more overthinking. It doesn't matter that she saw his face and knows his name. She'll be dead by morning anyway, and it's not like her friend is here for her to tell anything about him to.

Once he's calmed himself down enough to think clearly, Jungkook gets up and moves to his closet to pull out the safe. He puts in the code and it swings open when he gives it a little tug. He takes out the gun that he failed to use the other night, then he unloads it, pouring the little bullets onto his bed. Jungkook counts them before reloading them, then he dumps them out again, counting them before once again reloading them.

He does this whenever he needs to think, it helps him concentrate. When he's unloaded and reloaded it four times, he's finally able to take a deep breath. He sits on the edge of his bed, his head hanging for a minute before he lifts it and stares at the wall. _______________

When you get home, you kick your shoes off and head straight to the kitchen to grab a snack. You grab a little drinkable yogurt and grin as you open it up and take a sip. 

Then you move to sit on your couch, still gently sipping your yogurt. When you're almost halfway done with your snack, you pull out your phone and text Mina. 

You 4:32- Mina, I met someone today ^-^

Then you toss your phone next to you and grab your TV remote, turning it on you quickly find the drama you're currently binging and you hit play. 

After a few minutes, you hear your phone bling. You pause the show and grab it to see Mina has answered you. 

Mina 4:40- YOU WHAT? WHO

You laugh quietly and you're typing a reply when a picture of you and Mina making silly faces pops up on the screen and the ringtone you made special for her starts ringing. You answer it quickly, laughing when she shouts through the phone immediately. 

"WAS IT A BOY??" She shrieks, almost breaking your eardrums.

"Y-Yeah." You can feel the blush creeping up your neck at her next words.

"Is he cute? Is he single?"

"M-Mina!" You cry in embarrassment, "It isn't l-like that." 

You hear a disappointed sigh leave her lips, "Well, what is it like then?" She asks in curiosity. 

"I gave him a p-picture that I drew. He t-took it, Mina! He didn't say I was c-creepy like the other girl did." You're grinning from ear to ear. 

She laughs quietly as she realizes what this is about. "Ohh, so you drew a picture of him and gifted it to him?"

"Yup!"

"That's so sweet of you, ____. And he actually took it?" 

You nod, then remember she can't see you. 

"Y-Yes, he took it. He said th-thank you, and he told m-me his name!"

Mina laughs again at your excitement, "What's his name?"

"Jungkook."

"Ohhh," There's a teasing hint to her tone, "Sounds like a name fit for a cute guy. So, was he cute?" 

You bite your lip then whisper, "Uh, yes. He was c-cute." 

"Awww! ____ has her first cruuuush!" Mina shrieks again and you shake your head. 

"No, Mina. I d-don't have a crush on h-him! I just thought he was n-nice. He seemed like he would m-make a good friend." You pull at the hem of your skirt, your knees tucked up to your chin. 

You hear her giggle on the other side, then her tone turns serious. "Ok, you're right ____. No man is good enough to date my sweet best friend. Don't you dare pursue him until I get there and give my approval!"

You roll your eyes, "I'm not going to p-pursue him at all, silly."

You two chat for a couple of minutes, then you let her go because you both need to figure something out for dinner soon. 

You decide to finish the episode of the drama, but you can't resist and watch a few more after it. By the time you're able to peel your eyes away from the TV, the sun is starting to go down. You rub your eyes in confusion, I didn't realize how many episodes I watched. 

You stretch your arms above your head and yawn, "Ah, I should g-get some d-dinner," You stand up to go to your kitchen and scrounge around. You come up with a few pieces of celery, half a jar of kimchi, and one hard-boiled egg. 

You scrunch your nose at the emptiness of the fridge. You'll just have to go to the grocery store tomorrow. But until then, you decide to just go out and get something to eat for dinner and maybe find something for your lunch tomorrow. 

You pull your tennis shoes on and grab your bucket hat, plopping it onto your head. It doesn't go with the rest of your pastel outfit, but you don't really care. If it's comfy, then it's a win for you. 

Then you take your bag and sling it over your shoulder. Remembering to lock the door, you leave and head down the stairs. _______________

Jungkook thanks the man at the food stand as he takes the fishcake skewer and hands his money to the man. Then he bows and turns to make his way through the crowds of people that always come out at night in Seoul. 

He finds a bench in a park a little ways from the hustle and bustle of the city, so he sits there and takes a deep breath of the crisp evening air. Jungkook takes a bite of his fishcake, chewing it thoughtfully as he goes over the new plan of action in his head. 

A few people pass by while he sits there, one of them is a small girl with her mother. She reminds Jungkook of that little girl, Mi-Rah, from the other day. His throat constricts when he remembers the child's words to him. Then he scoffs and takes another bite of fishcake, chewing it aggressively. If that annoying kid hadn't distracted him, he wouldn't be sitting out here right now trying to come up with a new plan...stupid. 

Jungkook finishes his food, then he stretches his long limbs out, grunting from exhaustion. This hit is really taking a mental toll on him for literally no reason at all. He can't wait to be done with it. 

He rubs his hands together and stands up, stretching a bit more before heading in the direction of the target's home. 

He's going to finish this. 

Tonight. 

When Jungkook is a few blocks from her apartment, he slows down and glances around before slipping into the dark alleyway from the other night. Once he's in the dark, he slips the gun from his pocket and checks the bullets. It's an obsessive thing at this point, but it makes him feel more secure. 

He slides the last bullet back in, then-

"Jungkook?"

The gun clatters to the ground with a loud sound as Jungkook whips around to see the one person he doesn't want to see at this moment. 

Gosh fucking damn it all to hell. 

You're standing there, looking up at him from under your bucket hat. Jungkook scans you quickly, noticing you're still in your light yellow skirt and pink blouse from earlier. You have some bags in your hands as you smile at him. 

You don't seem to have taken notice of the fact that he literally just dropped the gun he was going to shoot you with. So, Jungkook quickly kicks it to the side, relieved when it slides behind a bag of trash. 

"Uhm, hi...____, right?" It takes all his willpower not to fumble over his words after being caught for the second time on the same day.

You nod happily at the fact that he remembered your name, "Yes! F-Funny to run into y-you again!"

Jungkook chuckles dryly, "Yeah, what a coincidence."  

You gesture to him with one of the bags in your hands, "D-Do you live n-near here?" 

Jungkook's nose twitches, but he keeps a straight face. "No, I just...I was out for a walk." 

"Ohh! Night walks are th-the best." 

"Mhm.." Jungkook looks around, trying to figure out what he should do. Maybe he should just do it now...yeah, that's the best idea. 

"So, what did you buy?" Jungkook asks suddenly, gesturing towards your bags. You take the bait instantly and brighten, bending down to place your bags on the ground so you can show him. 

The second you aren't looking, Jungkook crouches and grabs the gun from behind the trash bag he kicked it towards.

"Well, now. L-Let me see." You're crouched on your heels, looking through the bags. Jungkook cocks the gun and raises it, his finger on the trigger. 

"I've g-got an apple, that was from the k-kind old woman at the fruit s-stand-"

He's about to pull it when another voice rings out in the alley. 

"Miss ___! Is that you?"

Jungkook quickly brings the gun down, switching it to safety and stuffing it into the front of his pants. Clearly, he isn't thinking straight right now. 

You look up at that moment and glance behind Jungkook before a smile of recognition lights up your face. "Ohh! Mr. Ch-Chang! What are y-you doing out this l-late at night?"

Jungkook bites his lip in pure frustration and turns to see an older man smiling at the pair of you. "I was taking my trash out, and I thought I'd heard your voice coming from over here."

You grab your bags and scoot past Jungkook to greet the older man properly, "It's s-so nice to see you. It's b-been a l-long time!" 

Mr. Chang smiles and nods, "It has indeed. And who is this handsome young fellow?"

He looks around you at Jungkook, who screams internally, not knowing anything that could make this situation worse. 

"That's m-my new friend, Jungkook."

Oh, ok. So, that makes it worse. Good. 

Not only was his plan foiled, but this old man now has a visual and a name to put to someone should anything happen to you. 

Great, just great. 

"Ah, it's very nice to meet you, Jungkook." Mr. Chang holds out a shaky hand and Jungkook takes it and gives it a shake. "Oh, this one's got a good shake." The old man winks at you and you laugh. 

Jungkook forces a smile onto his face. 

He's always been good at charming people, that's what makes him so good at his job. 

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Chang." He says politely. 

"Well, very good. Very good. What do you say we all get out of this creepy old alley? Let's get into the light." Mr. Chang leads you and Jungkook out until the street lamps pour golden artificial light onto the three of you. Jungkook wants to flinch away, it feels like the light is exposing all the dirty little secrets he's got hidden away. 

But he remains stoic. 

You and the man exchange a few words before Mr. Chang clears his throat, "Alright dear, I really am an old man, I must be heading to bed. Jungkook," Jungkook looks up from where he was staring at the ground, "Hm?"

"Be a good lad and walk my young friend home?" He looks at Jungkook with such kind and trusting eyes that Jungkook finds himself looking away. 

"Of course." He mumbles. 

This man doesn't suspect a thing. He has no idea that the guy he's asking to protect his friend is the one that was about to kill her for a hefty price, and would have if he hadn't been interrupted. 

"Thank you. You two stay safe and I'll see you again, ___." 

"Goodnight, M-Mr. Chang!" You wave to him as he slowly makes his way around the corner. Then you turn to Jungkook and smile. 

Jungkook briefly wonders if your cheeks ever get sore from smiling all the time. 

"I l-live this way." You raise an arm to the right, the bag hanging from it dangles. Jungkook nods, then he starts to walk. You need to jog to catch up to him, his long legs take huge strides as he hurries down the street. 

The walk is silent, you sensing that Jungkook isn't really in the mood to talk. But it takes a lot of willpower for you not to start asking him different questions to get to know him more. 

When you've finally reached the stairs that lead up to your apartment, you huff in a breath. 

"Hoo, I'm so t-tired." You laugh. 

Jungkook looks at you, his face unchanging. 

You hold up a bag, "Would y-you mind carrying th-this up for me? I'm sorry, it's gotten so h-heavy during the walk. And I n-never walk that f-fast."

Jungkook takes the bag with a sigh, then he turns and hurries up the stairs, leaving you to huff and puff up them slowly behind him.  

When you reach your door, Jungkook sets the bag down on the ground and turns to leave, "Have a good night." He mumbles. 

"W-Wait!"

He turns back to you, biting back another sigh. 

"Th-Thank you...for today." You say softly, a hint of a smile on your lips. 

"No problem." He says quickly before hurrying down the stairs and disappearing around a corner. 

You unlock your door and bring in the bags, lugging them to the kitchen to start unpacking them. As you put the stuff you bought where it belongs in the kitchen, you think back on your day. 

It's so crazy that when you were so lonely without Mina, you were able to talk to someone new! A spark of hope comes alive in your chest that maybe you've just made a new friend. Hopefully, you'll see him again and you can learn more about him. 

You're so curious to know more about this dark and lonely stranger. _______________

Jungkook opens the door to his apartment, walking in slowly. 

He shuts the door and locks it, then he pulls off his shoes and drops them by the front door. After that, he walks over to his bed, pulls his pants and shirt off, then climbs into bed. 

Wrapped up in his covers, Jungkook stares straight ahead into the darkness. 

"How the hell am I going to do this?" He whispers numbly. 

His head is spinning with new plans and everything that's happened today, but he can't grasp a single one of those thoughts as they race by. 

Hours pass by as Jungkook tries desperately to get his head clear enough for him to focus. Eventually, he passes out from pure exhaustion, falling into a fitful sleep.

 The next morning, the sun slips through the blinds. The birds are just starting to sing their morning songs, their pretty little voices waking up the rest of the world. 

Jungkook shoots straight up in bed, "That's it!" He shouts, then he claps his hand over his mouth, remembering how thin the walls are in this apartment complex. 

A smirk spreads across his face as he takes his hand down, "Ah, thank goodness." Jungkook almost laughs out loud in relief at finding another solution.

He jumps out of bed and runs to the shower. It ends up being the shortest shower he's ever taken, he doesn't have any time to waste.

When he gets out, Jungkook grabs a bottle of chocolate milk and a banana before hurrying to get dressed and out the door. _______________

Jungkook arrives at the school before you, so he gets a paper and sits on the bench, as usual, waiting for you to appear. 

It only takes ten minutes of waiting until he spots you across the street. Jungkook smiles to himself and waits patiently. Sure enough, you glance across the street and see him looking at you. 

You feel a warm spark in your chest when you see your new friend sitting on the bench across the street from the school. You wave happily, delighted when he smiles and waves back. Then, he stands up and jogs across the street until he's standing right in front of you. 

"Good morning, ____." 

"Hi, J-Jungkook!" The smile on his face makes your cheeks warm as you look down at your feet. 

Then you look back at him, "H-Hey, would you l-like to hang out t-today?" You ask suddenly, but hopefully, afraid he might turn you down instantly. 

Instead, Jungkook's smile grows and he nods, "Sure. I'll meet you out here when you're off work." 

"O-Ok." You grin at him, not expecting him to agree so fast. Then you look at the time, "I have t-to go. I'll see you l-later." 

He waves as you turn and hurry into the school. 

Jungkook can't stop the smirk from coming as he watches you disappear into the doors of the school. If you insist on talking to him and making him your friend, then he'll just have to go along with it. _______________

"Alright, m-my little ducklings! Time t-to pack up!" You clap your hands to get their attention. They all listen immediately, moving to get their bags put together and ready for home. 

A few minutes later, the school bell rings, signaling the end of the day. 

The kids squeal with happiness and you feel your own rush of excitement, remembering that you have a new friend to spend the rest of your day with. The kids get into line quickly and you give them each a punch in their reward cards as they file out the door. 

The second you step out of the school, leading the line of little ducklings behind you, you glance across the street, but you don't see Jungkook sitting there. 

You try not to think too much about it and focus on getting the kids into the correct lines for the busses. 

You wave to Joon Woo as he climbs into his father's car. He and his dad wave to you and smile before driving away. 

Then you look across the street again, but there still isn't any sign of Jungkook. 

You bite your lip before turning and walking into the school.

Gathering your things, you think about all the things you and Jungkook might be able to do to pass the time. You're so consumed in your thoughts that you don't notice the knock on your door. The second time the person knocks, louder this time, you hear it. 

"C-Come in!" You call out, sorting the last bits of the worksheets that the kids did today. The door opens and Mr. Baek from class A walks in. 

You look up and smile at him, "Good afternoon, Mr. B-Baek. How can I h-help you?"

He glares down his long nose at you, "Did you give any thought to what I said last week?"

"Um..."

What did he say last week...?

Oh...

"Oh, uhm. Mr. Baek, I still d-don't understand."

"What do you not understand about it?" He snaps. 

You flinch, then set down the stack of papers and stand up while grabbing your bag. "I th-thought maybe you'd had a b-bad day-"

Mr. Baek scoffs loudly, cutting you off. 

"You aren't that dense, sweetheart."

The way he says that makes your stomach turn, "Ok, I'm s-sorry that you're upset. I h-have s-somewhere to be. If y-you'll excuse me." 

You move around him and hurry out of the room before he can say anything else. You really aren't sure what's gotten into him, but you're going to avoid him until he's over it. 

When you walk down the steps to the school, you look around, but Jungkook isn't anywhere to be seen. You try not to let it get to you, this has happened before. 

The only person who has ever followed through on plans with you is Mina. 

You blink a few times, then you start making your way home. 

"Going home so soon?" 

You turn to see Jungkook standing behind you.

A smile spreads on your face at the sight of him. "I thought y-you'd left." You say slowly. 

He shakes his head and steps closer to you, " I always keep my promises."

You feel your chest lift at his words, finally someone that isn't going to leave you hanging. Then you readjust the bag on your shoulder, "W-What would you like t-to do?"

Jungkook frowns when he notices something off about you. He knows it's none of his business and he doesn't really care, but he's curious. 

"Did something happen?" He asks, taking you by surprise, "You look kind of upset."

At that, you smile bigger, "N-Nothing happened! I'm f-fine." 

"Ok." Jungkook doesn't buy it, but he doesn't push you any further. He doesn't care enough to. 

"So, w-what did you w-want to do?" You ask again, relieved he doesn't continue to ask you what's wrong. 

"You pick." Jungkook gives you a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. 

You decide to ignore that and clap your hands together, "W-Well, I'm hungry! How about we g-get some food?" 

Jungkook nods, "Food sounds great, do you know any good places?"

You laugh and try to send him a wink, though it's the worst wink he's ever seen. "Oh boy, I know e-exactly what we c-can eat."

Jungkook gestures forward, "Lead the way."

The two of you talk about the weather as you stroll through the city, making your way to one of your favorite food carts. You don't have much to talk about besides that. You're trying to come up with some questions to ask him once you've got your food. 

Once you arrive at the steamed bun cart, you break into a little run. Jungkook watches you skip over and jump in place once you're in line. 

She acts like a kid. 

He shakes his head but hurries over to you anyway. 

You tell him all your favorite kinds and he suggests you get them because they sound good to him too. When you take your card out to pay, Jungkook beats you to it. He hands the man some cash before you can even blink. 

"Oh, y-you don't have to do th-that."

"I know." He says simply, thanking the man once he hands him the bag of buns and his change.

You two walk to the park that he had followed you to the other day and find a spot on the green grass. You plop down and pat the spot next to you, indicating that he should sit as well. Jungkook sits down and hands you the bag. 

"Th-Thank you for b-buying it." You whisper shyly. 

Jungkook shrugs, "No problem. Which one should we try first?"

"Um, the pork ones a-are really g-good." You say, taking out the two pork buns. You hand one to him and he immediately takes a big bite, making you chuckle a little. 

"Mm, you're right. It's delicious." Jungkook says around a mouthful of food. 

You nod, glad that he likes it. Then you start to eat yours, thinking about which question you should ask him first. 

"So, how long have you been a teacher?" Jungkook asks you suddenly. 

You swallow the bite you were chewing, "I j-just started at the b-beginning of the school year in A-August. I graduated from c-college last year." 

Jungkook nods knowingly, "That's good. So, you must be around twenty-two?"

You nod, "I am t-twenty-two, yes. How o-old are you?"

"I turned twenty-three in September," Jungkook says before taking another bite. 

"Oh, n-nice. And what d-do you do f-for work?" You ask politely. 

Jungkook swallows the bite that feels like it's stuck in his throat at your question. "I work for a small business. I just take care of client's needs and stuff." 

You smile, "That's a g-good job."

He nods, finishing off his last bite. 

"It pays the bills."

Why is he suddenly uncomfortable? There's something about you that makes him nervous, but he can't tell what it is. 

No, this is on his terms. This is all part of the plan, he just needs to play along. He needs you to trust him.

Jungkook glances over at you as you stuff more food into your mouth.

This is gonna be easier than I thought. 

______________________________

a/n: thank you so much for all the support so far! I hope y’all liked this one