#there's always a rainbow after the rain

[aalt-ctrl-del]

gather 'round children while I tell ye the story about the day I beheld a colorful rainbow flag and the transfer of gays turned me into a bouncy fruit imbued with the powers of yass

[psychoticwillgraham]

also i saw a rainbow this morning as the sun was already rising and it was completely clear out and it made me smile :3

[insidemydiaries]

Some days you'll be basking in the sun

Others you'll be drenched in the rain

That's a loose translation of a quote someone told me, it's in Spanish and I don't quite remember it anymore. But I remember the feelings it left...

I know today was not ideal

But it doesn't mean every day will be like this

.......

I suppose the days in the sun glow brighter after a long rain, I mean that's when a spectrum of light is painted across the sky. Reminding everyone of the miracle of light.

I hope you all see a rainbow shining bright 🌈

[the-californicationist]

Bone Deep

AO3 Link -- MDNI -- TW: emotional hurt/comfort, make up sex

Your husband, John Price, has fallen into a pattern of behavior that seems to be moving him farther and farther away from you. But, you refuse to play second fiddle for long. 

You were drenched. It had been raining in such a way that made you think the Lord had gone back on his promise. Perhaps the rainbow had been painted just to placate you. Perhaps, you thought as you wrung out your hair on the porch, you would be drowned after all. 

It sure felt that way. Work had mounted up to the point of a fever-pitch. You had three projects due and one to revise. Not to mention, your husband had been home and yet almost fully invisible. 

John Price was back on something like leave, but he was never around. You saw evidence of his presence all over your floor and table and furniture. Socks, dirty plates, dead tablets, scraps of paper with Russian names scribbled on them... He was hunting Makarov in your kitchen and your hallway and your bathroom, and he was leaving that trail of breadcrumbs both literally and figuratively all over your house. 

You’d gone to bed alone for two nights in a row, and as you nearly tumbled over a pair of his sneakers in the foyer, caked in wet mud, you decided that it would not be three. 

“John?” You called out.

There was no reply, but a pale blue light shone under his office door. 

You popped open the latch and saw him hunched over the computer screen. 

“John.”

“Hm?” He responded, but he didn’t turn around. 

“John!”

“What?” He roared, spinning in his chair and glowering at you, shaming you for interrupting him.

“Okay,” you nodded, resigned. 

It would be a cold day in hell before you accepted that tone from anyone. You’d gone in there expecting to have a rational conversation, but your husband had raised his voice to you like you’d been a naughty dog. 

And you were absolutely not going to take that sort of treatment.

You made it to your bedroom in a quick three strides, pulling your overnight bag from under the bed. You shot your best friend, Cana, an SOS text. She lived two hours away, but you didn’t mind. You’d drive all night through the rain if it meant getting out of this prison that you used to call a home. 

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but you had boundaries. Clear ones. And he knew he had crossed them. He just didn’t care. 

You started to pack as you fumed, tossing in a few days worth of clothes, your toiletry bag, the essentials. Then, the bedroom door clanged open, its handle slamming into the railing on the wall. 

“What’s this?” John waved a hand over your bag. 

“When I married you, I married a partner, not a ghost. The only reason I know you’re home is because you leave your fucking laundry for me to finish all over my floor. I’m not going to clean up after you like some maid. Then, you raise your tone at me, disrespecting me? No. When you’re ready to be my husband again, you know my number.”

He scoffed,

“All this bloody drama over some dirty socks?”

You stared at him in a way that told him just how serious you were. The silence between you stretched on for eons, expanding in all directions. You smiled, 

“You know it’s not the socks.”

The look in his eyes said: yes, I know it’s not the socks. But, his pride wouldn’t let him say the quiet part out loud. 

So, you left. 

Starting up the car was hard. Backing out of the driveway was harder. But, every mile you drove simply steeled your resolve. You knew his work was important, but you were important, too. You’d always be his wife, but you needed some space. 

You texted your boss when you made it to Cana’s house; you were taking a few days off. A night of tears and comforting hugs (and strong margaritas) passed, then a morning. Then, a night… and in the middle of it, you saw your phone light up. Despite the million other notifications you received every day, you knew it was him.

John: hey

You: hey

John: can i call

You: one sec

You sneaked out of bed, untangling yourself from Cana’s lanky arms, and lugged your phone out to the front porch. You were about to curl up on her big patio chair when you were stopped in your tracks at the sight of a big black truck idling in the driveway.

You sighed, standing there staring at your husband. He killed the engine and stepped down from the cab. As he approached you, looking up at you from the bottom of the stairs like a wide-eyed disciple, you noticed that his blue irises were ringed in pink, bloodshot and puffy. He hadn’t shaven, and he looked pale. 

But, even though you were still hurt, and even though he looked a little worse for wear, it was hard to ignore the carnal ache in your belly when you watched the muscles bulge and flex in his immense forearms as he crossed his arms in front of himself. The way his chest stretched out his black tee shirt, a tuft of fur peeking out of the crew neckline, the sleeves struggling to contain his round biceps. The way he chewed his full bottom lip when he had something important to say. It was enough to test your resolve.  

“Hey,” you said in a small voice, holding your arms around your body for comfort. 

Suddenly, those sharp eyes focused on you with rapt attention, and he stared right at you, speaking in a low, gravelly purr, trying to keep his voice down,

“I’ve been a proper arse.”

You tried to hold back a smirk. He continued,

“I took advantage of you. I’ve been hunting this fuckin’ bastard for so many years, and I’ve got him cornered. It’s all I can think about. Every night I think if only I was a little quicker, or maybe just bloody braver, I could stop him from killing more innocent people. I let him into our house. Into your life. And I shouldn’t have let my work come between us,” John’s expression softened, and he uncrossed his arms, hooking his thumb into his jeans pocket, “And I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, still waiting for his next step. Being sorry was only part of it. 

“When you come home tomorrow, it’ll be different. I’m gonna pull my weight again. You have my word that I’ll only work when you work, and when you’re home,” he squared his shoulders, rocking his hips forward, nervous energy coursing through his body, “I’ll be home with you. I promise.”

You nodded, shifting your weight, staring down at your feet. Then, he called your attention with a caught breath and words that hurt you bone deep,

“You are coming home, right?”

You tried your honest best to fight the tears, but your body shuddered through a sob and you gasped in a sharp breath of air. He moved to hold you, to ascend the steps and repent, to be forgiven, but you held up your hand stopping him in his tracks,

“I won’t have you speaking to me like that, John. I won’t…” You thought about your words carefully, “I can’t be treated that way.”

“I understand, love. Believe me,” he chuckled, “I never want you to feel like that again.”

The way he rubbed his thumb across his sternum made your own chest hurt. He tried to approach you again, stepping up the wooden stairs, creaking under his weight, and he angled his chin up as if to kiss you. But, you stepped away, guarding your own heart for just a while longer. 

The hunger in his eyes followed you like smoke from a fire, warming you with its heat. 

“I’ll be home in the morning, John,” you said, turning to go back into the house. 

The next morning, as you packed, you thought about his promise. You hoped that you were heard. Truly heard and not just for a week of good behavior. You deserved to be respected, and you wouldn’t let your relationship with him become so one-sided again. 

When you pulled into your driveway, you expected to be greeted with the same dark, empty house. As you moved to pick your feet up over the usual mess of shoes, you discovered the foyer scrubbed to a high shine, and there was nothing to stumble upon. All the shoes were shoved into their little cubbies, and there wasn’t a dirty sock in sight. The living room was bright, clean, and John was standing in the middle of it, waiting for you. He took your bags, and scooped you up into a long, tight hug. 

You thought he might try to kiss you, but he didn’t. He just held you against him, breathing in and out, not letting go. Your face was buried deep in his chest, and you could smell his aftershave mixing with the strong scent of his cigars, and a slight musk that was all him. You wanted to feel his fur against your cheek. 

Suddenly, he grabbed your chin in his hand, making you face him, and he said in a dark, warm tone, 

“I’m gonna be the me that you need me to be. From now on. I swear it.”

You felt his soft lips touch yours, kissing you chastely, then deeper, chasing your taste, finding your tongue, licking along its length, savoring your mouth like a treat, cherishing every suck and nip and bite. 

“I missed you, John,” you admitted, feeling hot tears staining your cheeks, not realizing you were crying. 

He wiped them from your temples, smearing them into your skin, cradling your head in his hands so carefully as if you were made of glass. 

“I’ve been away. But, I swear, love. I swear, I’m back. I swear…”

His lips met your wet cheek and took your tears with them. 

“I swear…” 

He kissed your neck, holding your head in his huge paw.

“I swear…” 

You ran your hands over his neck, encircling him, tugging at his shirt, needing to feel his skin. He hooked his arms over his head and rucked the shirt off his back, tossing it on the couch. He pulled you into his lap as he sat down, sinking into the cushions, kissing you like you might disappear again. 

“I’m so sorry, love. Please forgive me,” John growled darkly, his deep voice rumbling between kisses. 

“Forgiven,” you said, forcing him to look at you.

Then, he put his forehead to yours and let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes and simply rubbing your back, trailing his hands over your hips, pulling you in closer to him. 

Tentatively, as if testing the waters of a deep well, you rocked your hips against him, seeing if you could get him to take the bait. If you had your husband back, you wanted to seal that promise with more than just a kiss. 

He groaned,

“Mm, I don’t deserve that.”

You repeated the motion, feeling the twitch of his fat cock inside of his jeans, and you narrowed your eyes at him,

“Sex isn’t a reward. It’s our connection, and I need to feel you. I need my captain back.”

He smiled, nuzzling your jaw, peppering your skin with little, chirping kisses, 

“Pretty girl… I missed you so much. What was I thinking?”

You shrugged, playing coy as you slipped off your leggings and set to undoing his buttons, opening the fly of his jeans to see the shock of dark hair and the swollen prize nestled in it, 

“I dunno. Maybe you just needed a reminder?”

As you teased him at your entrance, letting his head play in your wet folds, you began to sink down onto his shaft, spearing yourself onto his length, rocking back and forth with a tantalizing rhythm. 

“Mmngh,” he sighed, his eyes staring, transfixed on where your bodies reconnected. 

Finally, after some effort, his girth was fully sheathed within you, warmed and cradled by your soft heat. You began to lift yourself on your knees up and down, dragging all the way to his rosy head and then sliding all the way back down to those brown curls, enjoying the faces he was making against his will. 

However, he didn’t put up with your performance for long. Before you knew it, you were laying on the couch with your knees on your chest, taking every inch of his cock as deep as it would go. He had a gentle curve that, in this position, rubbed exactly where it needed to, pulling you along from one orgasm to the next like you were a kite, fully at his mercy and high as hell. 

Your mind swam with murky, unintelligible thoughts, and he fucked you harder and harder, pounding himself into you like a machine. Sometimes you forgot his strength… and his stamina. 

You whined a bit, your timbre changing from other-worldly pleasure to mild discomfort, and he picked up on it like a hound. He slowed, inspecting you, looking for the broken pieces. 

“You alright, missus?” He said, kissing you, thrusting shallowly now, checking in with you.

“Can we sit?”

“C’mere.”

John pulled you into his lap and continued his efforts, rocking himself back and forth, holding your body like a toy. Then, he snaked his hand between you, giving your clit something firm to rub against, and you felt the tingles begin to build inside of your belly, a coil tightening, a dam under pressure, a firework ready to burst. 

He was facing you, so you began to kiss him in a slow, supple way, letting your mouth fall open and your lips meet his with the lightest touch. John matched your energy, getting lost in your ritual, sending out the tip of his tongue to play and taste you again. 

He pulled away and licked his fingers before returning them to your folds,

“Mmf-fuck. You are so bloody good.”

“I want you to come in me, baby,” you confessed, resting your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath. 

You saw the surprise dance through his expression. 

“You sure?”

You knew it wasn’t something you allowed very often. You’d been off of your birth control for a few months, trying to give your body a break from the hormones. And even though you weren’t trying for a baby, that was always a dream that you shared. For John, it was the ultimate dream. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, kissing his smiling mouth.

“Oh, fuck me,” he growled darkly, gripping you around your waist, changing the angle to something wholly transcendent. How did he do it? How did he know where your body needed him to be? It was absurd. 

Everything was bright and glittering as you came around him, and you felt yourself squeezing his cock mercilessly, coming down his shaft in hot, thick coatings of creamy slick, unable to stop it from flooding out around him. 

He, too, was erupting. He gasped for air, grunting in loud, animalistic shouts, his whole face contorted into a pleasure-filled rage, pumping you full of his soft, warm cream, frothing it with his rough movements. 

Eventually, he flung his head back, holding you to him in a tight hug, his entire body moving and reacting without his input, fully on instinct. You held him back, clutching him against you like a lifeline.

You thought he would slip out of you once he was down from his high, but he didn’t. He simply held you to him, sweaty and desperate, letting himself soften inside of you. It was as if he didn’t want to leave. 

“Thank you, love,” he kissed you again, shuddering yet powerful. 

“It’s nice to have you home, John,” you smiled, letting his soft laughter warm your heart, basking in it like the sun. 

[crystallinestars]

If They Were Your Pet Cat

Happy Cat Day (22.02)! I was inspired to write a few headcanons about what the boys would be like as cats.

I wanted to include a few more boys, but my brain ran out of juice.

Parts 2 and 3 with Honkai Star Rail boys here and here.

Contains: Kaveh, Alhaitham, Itto, Scaramouche, Venti, and Dainsleif.

-------------

Kaveh:

🍷 Is a Siberian breed.

🍷 When you first brought him home, Kaveh took a while to warm up to you. He was wary of your intentions and reluctant to let you touch him. With some patience and gentleness, you eventually melted the golden feline’s heart, and he became inseparable from you. Wherever you go in the house, he follows, or at the very least checks on you to know where you are.

🍷 Kaveh is very sensitive to your emotional state. If you’re feeling depressed, he likes to lay on your chest and purr until you feel better. When you cry, he’s always by your side, rubbing his cheeks against you and licking at your face as if trying to wipe them away. He doesn’t leave your side until he’s sure you’re alright.

🍷 Due to your work/school, Kaveh is used to you coming and going at certain times as a part of your daily routine. However, if you come home later than usual, expect to have a grumpy cat on your hands. He will angrily meow at you non-stop and flick his tail in annoyance. He doesn’t like being alone, and he lets you have a piece of his mind if you leave him alone for long periods of time. He’ll sulk unless you coax him with some treats and gentle pats. Spending some time grooming or playing with him usually calms him down afterward.

🍷 Is very good with having guests over. Kaveh is a sociable cat and always greets anyone that comes through the door and gives them a sniff to learn who they are. He’s open to being petted by others but prefers to sit on your lap as opposed to your friends or family.

🍷 He’s a gorgeous cat but his coat is high maintenance. Because it’s so thick and long, he doesn’t tolerate the heat well. He requires regular brushing and grooming to keep his coat healthy. It’s a good thing he enjoys being petted because it makes grooming much easier. He tends to lean into your touch or the hairbrush when you stroke his body and purrs a lot throughout the entire process. He loves being pampered.

🍷 Kaveh likes to sleep on your bed, pressed up against you or lying on your chest. You got him a cat bed, but Kaveh still prefers to sleep right next to you in your bed.

🍷 He’s generally very affectionate. He both loves to give you affection and receive it. You’re not sure how well Kaveh understands what you say, but he always looks very smug whenever you praise him and give him scritches. He’ll headbutt you, asking for more head pats and affection.

🍷 You often find him staring out the window with rapture. You’re not sure what captivates his attention so much—maybe the sunset, the rainbow after the rain, or perhaps the flowers that bloom right outside your window. He’s also strangely attracted to lightning. Rather than get scared and hide, he sits by the window and stares out at the stormy skies.

Alhaitham:

🎧 Is a Russian blue.

🎧 Alhaitham is the quietest cat you’ve ever met. Hearing him meow or make any kind of vocal sound is rare. He’s also very introverted and prefers to spend time alone, hidden in some cozy nook or cranny.

🎧 He’s also very stubborn and smart. If you want to put a silly little cat costume on him for laughs, you can forget it because Alhaitham will give you the slip every time without fail. Rather than try to chase and play hide-and-seek with him, it’s much easier to abandon the idea altogether. If he doesn’t want something done to him, you won’t be able to force him.

🎧 As mentioned earlier, he’s a very smart cat. Alhaitham figured out how to open doors on his own, and is even able to open the fridge all by himself. It’s a bit annoying because he sometimes uses his abilities to sneak a tasty little something from the fridge, but his intelligence is truly a marvel. When you speak to him, Alhaitham’s expressions and body language change in response to your words, almost as if he understands exactly what you’re saying and is reacting to it.

🎧 Most of your friends and family have only caught glimpses of him when they visit. That’s because Alhaitham dislikes having guests over, and tends to hide from them. He only comes out once they leave.

🎧 He’s not a social cat in general and likes to keep his distance even from you. He’s not a lap cat, and will jump off and leave if you try to force him to lay on your lap. When he does feel like being social, Alhaitham will lay beside you if you’re reading a book, or perch on your shoulder to observe what you’re doing.

🎧 Is a very lazy cat, so you frequently find him taking naps while lying in a warm spot of sunshine. If you disturb his nap by attempting to pet or poke him, he gives you a displeased look and flicks his tail in annoyance. He’s very grumpy when his sleep is ruined.

🎧 Alhaitham never listens to strangers but does listen to you. If you call him over, he will come to you. He also tolerates your touch, and lets you squeeze and pet him without biting or scratching you. He looks unhappy about it, but lets you do as you please. However, if you ruin his attempts to leave once he’s had enough of your affection, he will take his revenge. That cup that’s sitting near the edge of the table? Yeah, he’s gonna push that off and stare at you without remorse while it crashes to the ground.

Itto:

🐂 A Maine Coon.

🐂 Itto is not meant for a house cat lifestyle. Despite your best attempts to keep him indoors, the rascal always manages to slip out somehow and venture into the great outdoors. His yearning to explore the greater world is too strong for you to contain, so you have to make peace with the fact he’ll spend most of his time roaming outside. On the bright side, Itto always comes home to you without fail, looking happy to see you and bask in your affection again.

🐂 He made friends with some stray cats in the area, so you have a small group of them regularly come to your porch and meow until you give them some food. It’s a bit costly to feed so many mouths, but watching the cats play together or rub against your legs while purring affectionately convinces you it’s worth it.

🐂 Since Itto spends so much time outside, he tends to come home dirty and matted. He needs to be bathed to stay clean, but good luck getting him in the bath. He screams and yowls bloody murder every time you try to wash him, to the point that your neighbors knock on your door to ask what’s going on. Thankfully, they grow accustomed to Itto’s bathtime opera and stop pestering you about it.

🐂 Brushing Itto’s fur also proves a challenge because he just can’t sit still. The little guy has too much energy to keep contained, so he usually ends up looking disheveled.

🐂 Itto is also a giant glutton. He’s capable of eating a week’s worth of cat food in just 3-4 days, yet somehow doesn’t gain weight. It’s expensive to keep him fed. If you try to put him on a diet, he will be very vocal in his complaints and even steal food from your plate.

🐂 He’s a troublemaker, but he’s incredibly loyal to you. If you’re feeling down, he’ll get you to play with him to take your mind off your troubles. If that doesn’t work, he’ll become more affectionate and rub up against you to get you to pet him and relieve stress. He never abandons you if you’re not feeling your best.

Scaramouche:

☂️ Is a domestic shorthaired tuxedo cat.

☂️ Was very hostile and cold towards you when you first got him. He was averse to touch, and often hissed and glared at you for the first few months of your joint cohabitation. Over time, when he was sure you meant him no harm, Scaramouche relaxed in your presence and wasn’t so hostile towards you anymore. He still glares daggers at any guests you may have over, but with you, he’s calmer and more affectionate.

☂️ Scaramouche is a bit of a loner and tends to slink off on his own to whatever corner of the house he calls his own. When guests are over, he likes to sit in an elevated spot (top of the closet, fridge, or shelf) and observe everyone from above. He does this for two reasons: firstly to discourage people from touching him, and secondly to keep an eye on the people around you.

☂️ If there’s someone he doesn’t like, Scaramouche will make it very apparent. That unfortunate guest of yours will get a warning growl to stay away from you. If the guest doesn’t comply, Scaramouche could even go as far as scratching the person. It’s not good behaviour on his part, but Scaramouche has his reasons. You’ve come to learn that he’s very good at picking out individuals who have bad intentions towards you or are just overall not good people.

☂️ He's a bit of a grumpy cat. He’ll let out noises of discontent if you pick him up to cuddle him or groom him, but he’s just all bark and no bite (but only with you). As unhappy as he’ll look, he’ll tolerate whatever it is you want to do to him. Unless it’s dressing him in silly costumes. Then you’ll get a harmless swat to your face (he makes sure to keep his claws retracted) and won’t see him for the rest of the day. Scaramouche won’t come out even when you call for him. No silly costumes, please.

☂️ For all his grouchy attitude, he still loves you. He wakes you up on time if you sleep through your alarm, badgers you if you forget to take your meds, and purrs on your chest when you feel sad. He’s very intelligent for a cat.

☂️ Is very picky about food. He won’t eat just anything you give him. Unfortunately for you, the only cat food brand he’s willing to eat is very expensive. He’s a very spoiled cat.

☂️ Hates bathing. Scaramouche tolerates brushing and nail trimming, but God forbid you try to put him in the bath. He will meow angrily and try to run, so it’s always an ordeal to hold him still long enough to bathe him. Sends you a scathing look if you laugh at how skinny he looks once his fur is matted to his body, making him look several sizes smaller. If you laugh, he’ll give you the cold shoulder afterward, so you won’t see him for a few days.

☂️ Isn’t into playing with cat toys, but he does hunt in his spare time. He brought you birds and mice a few times as a ‘gift’. He genuinely meant well, so was a bit irritated that you threw his gifts away.  

Venti:

🍃 A munchkin cat.

🍃 Venti is a cat that cannot be tamed. He clearly understands your commands because he sometimes complies with them when he feels like it, but most of the time he prefers to do his own thing. This includes venturing out into the great outdoors. Venti is not content staying cooped up at home, and you’ve long since learned to just let him go out when he wants. He’ll find a way to escape one way or the other. Besides, he still comes home, so it’s not like he doesn’t like living with you.

🍃 Venti seems to have an appreciation for music. He becomes energized whenever you play music, no matter what genre the song may be. He becomes more playful, so you often find yourself sidetracked playing with the cat instead of doing your work. If you can’t play with him, then Venti will zoom around the house like a cat on a sugar rush.

🍃 To your surprise, Venti also likes to sing. Or at least, you think the caterwauls he’s making are his attempts at singing along to some of the songs. It’s an amusing, albeit weird, sight.

🍃 Is generally not a lap cat, but he makes exceptions if he senses that you’re feeling down. During such moments, he becomes more subdued and nuzzles into your side, allowing you to pet him. His gentle purring and soft body usually help you feel better. If not, then he’ll stick to you like glue and follow you around the house to keep you company. It will be one of the few times when Venti sleeps next to you at night since he usually goes off on his own during that time. It’s obvious that he worries about your well-being.

🍃 Out of all the foods you let Venti try, you never expected him to like apples as much as he did. You swear he likes them more than the expensive cat treats you bought him. You trained him to do all kinds of tricks and even sit still for grooming in exchange for a few slices of apple (given as a treat).

🍃 He likes sleeping outside under the shade of the canopy, accompanied by a gentle breeze. You often catch him sleeping high up in a tree or a nook somewhere in the grass.

Dainsleif:

🌌 A Norwegian Forest cat.

🌌 You got Dainsleif from a shelter. He has a chronic illness that requires you to take him to the vet regularly for treatment, and some kind of scarring on his right side. The right side of his face and flank has matted, thinning fur, and you can only guess what happened to him before he ended up at the shelter. He was a very pitiful sight, which is why you brought him home. Under your care, Dainsleif lives the best life he can given his afflictions, and you’re even proud to say that aside from his mangled right side, the rest of his coat looks gorgeous.

🌌 Dainsleif is a relatively quiet and well-tempered cat. Though he’s shy and skittish around strangers, with you, he is more open. In private, his sweet temperament comes out. He often grooms you with his tongue as an act of affection and relishes in your gentle caresses when you pet or groom him in return. Watching his eyes close as he relaxes is a nice feeling since he usually has his guard up.

🌌 He’s not playful. Dainsleif is kind of serious for a cat. He dutifully waits for you at the door like a dog whenever you leave the house and greets you with a loud meow when you return. He doesn’t play with the toys you got him and prefers to spend most of his time sitting by the window and staring outside with an expression you can only describe as wistful.

🌌 Likes to sample whatever food you’re having. Dainsleif eats his cat food just fine, but you notice that he’s often curious about what you’re eating. He can’t help but want to sniff and taste human foods since the unique scents and flavors entice him. You share a little bit of your food with him after making sure it’s safe for cats, and Dainsleif couldn’t be more grateful for your generosity. However, this led to him expecting you to share a bit of your food with him during every meal. He’ll look dejected if you don’t.

🌌 When not weighed down by his illness, Dainsleif is very agile and has good stamina. He’s well suited for traveling outdoors with you if it’s something you want to try and will stay by your side like a loyal guard dog the entire time.

🌌 He’s very pliant with you. He tolerates bathing and grooming like a trooper despite not being fond of it since you’re the only one he trusts. If someone else attempted to groom him, then Dainsleif would simply run off and hide. However, he allows you to maneuver him in whatever way you need to complete the work well, and he doesn’t even complain about it. He becomes the sweetest cat in your presence.

[fredgeorgegredfeorge]

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[readersmagnet]

After the Rain: There is Always a Rainbow is an excellent book to read for inspiration. You will find something in each chapter that speaks to you—the quotes, poems, and stories will touch your heart and soul. It's an easy, soothing read.

Visit www.jacquidelorenzo.com to learn more about Jacqui DeLorenzo and her books.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Kindred Spirits | Azriel x Rhys’daughter!Reader

Summary: Amidst Starfall, Azriel discovers that he has a mating bond with you, Rhysand’s daughter, and after pleading his case, he gets to spend some quality time with you at the cabin.

Word Count: ~ 4.2k

Warnings: Age gap, smut, p in v penetration, fingering, wing play, shadow play, you get the dea

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: Couldn’t get the idea of Rhys’ daughter with Az out of my head so I decided to write it down, hope you enjoy<3

Masterlist | Next

Requests are open!

From the moment he’d laid eyes on you, a newborn still covered in the blood and fluids of Feyre, cradled gently in her arms, he’d known you would be special.

Not just special to him as a family member, in the same way your older brother, Nyx, was, but something deep in him, more ancient and wise, had known.

He’d watched you grow up, always watching quietly along with everyone else as you slowly grew.

When you’d started crawling, large blue eyes peering up at Rhys as you had giggled and cooed, legs and arms moving clumsily in tandem to your father, who was kneeling, arms open and beckoning you to come closer. Feyre had been sat down on the edge of the couch, Nyx, only four years old, sitting on her lap as she’d raked fingers through his dark curls.

“There’s my pretty girl,”

Rhys had murmured to you in a soft tone as you’d finally made your way into his arms, he’d picked you up and began gently giving you little kisses as your pudgy little hands grabbed at him, hooking onto his bottom lip and tugging.

Cassian’s hearty laughter could be heard from across the room as he walked in to find you pulling on every part of your father you could get your hands on. He had plopped down on the couch next to Feyre, leaning back slightly and settling as Nyx crawled into his lap.

Azriel had been there when you’d taken your first steps. When your tiny little legs had slowly, unsteadily begun moving, arms thrown out to balance as your fuzzy little wings had been stretched to the side to hopefully keep you from falling.

What had been the thing that had made you finally walk after all of your parents failed attempts to entice you into it?

A beetle.

It sounded ridiculous, and looking back on it, it was.

Nyx had originally brought it in, hoping to scare you and make you run away from it, with Feyre hot on his heels trying to make him put it back down.

Whether it had been the way its wings had flapped so quickly, or the shiny, rainbow iridescence of its shell that reminded you of the rainbows that formed over the Sidra after light rain, you’d been fascinated. Feyre had let out an ear-piercing squeak as soon as she’d seen you start walking, and towards a live bug no less.

Rhys was there in an instant, clearly wondering what had caused his mate such distress when he caught the sight of it and grinned larger than ever before, maybe. Nyx got closer to you, the bug still squirming in his hands, but before he could get it to the babbling baby, Azriel calmly stepped in and gently grabbed the shiny insect, releasing it out of an open window.

He remembered your first word, which, unsurprisingly, had been “mama”. He remembered your first day of school, where you had been shy and almost shed a few tears when separating from your parents.

And gods, he definitely remembered your first day of middle school, when you’d come home sniffling and his first instinct had been to murder whoever had made you feel such a way.

It had been happy tears, apparently, when a friend you’d lost contact with long ago after leaving your elementary school early had met back up with you, in the same grade and class.

High school had also been a nightmare, for the entire family because of your frequent mood swings, not to mention the never-ending drama and gossip surrounding the High Lord and Lady’s daughter and son. Nyx had been a Senior when you’d first gone in as a Freshmen.

Due to your generally quiet and reserved temperament, there was little dating from you to deal with, luckily, but Nyx had been a nightmare. The boy was a player, to say the least, not to mention how he made it his personal mission to annoy you to death anytime you were having sleepovers or hangouts with your closest friends.

“Get out…!”

You had half-yelled, half-whispered from inside your pillow fort, your friend quietly giggling beside you. It was midnight and Nyx still wouldn’t leave you alone. One hand swatted the blanket entrance to the side, and Nyx’s smirking face met yours as he then lay on the floor, chest down, legs playfully swinging.

“Don’t be shy, spill all the drama.”

He drawled, eyes dancing with amusement. Your friend giggled, hiding behind you, apparently finding your brother incredibly funny. Annoyingly funny.

“I’ll call Cassian.”

You threatened, giving Nyx a look. He simply raised a brow, smirk widening.

“You wouldn’t dare interrupt his beauty sleep, would you?”

You huffed, the knowledge that Cassian was asleep this early making you not want to wake him. You were always like that, worrying about others, and caring for them. Suddenly, an idea hit you, and a small smile curled on your lips, one that seemed to make Nyx nervous as his eyes widened.

“Don’t even-“

He got that far before you called out for Azriel, his shadows most likely carrying the yelled whispers out to him, and in a moment he was there, oddly quick for your call. He took one look at the pillow fort, the scent of you and your friend inside, and Nyx’s intrusion, and grabbed him, carrying him easily out of the room and nodding at your giggled thanks.

From then on, something seemed to shift between you and your shadowsinger.

The way he looked at you had changed, but it wasn’t overly obvious. Nothing had been added, it was still respectful as ever, even when he’d spied your prom dress, or your graduation dress, a beautiful mixture of light and airy but still tight in the right places, fabric cascading down your body in shades of rich purples, highlights of a gentle yellow reflecting the glow of the stars amidst a dark skylight.

That dress had nearly brought him to his knees. It had been one of the many that Rhysand’s mother had made before her death.

Still, he’d never let his gaze linger, never had a hint of anything darker or longing in his hazel eyes, but something had changed. The familial connection you had with him seemed to have fallen more into that of a friend, or almost an authority figure, but not quite. What it was, you couldn’t ever figure out.

However, the Cauldron had its own plans, ones that nobody in the family could’ve expected.

*********************************************************

It had been the night of Starfall, coincidentally only a few days after your eighteenth birthday. Rhys always liked to tease you, saying if you’d only waited a few more days then you could’ve shared your special day with one of the most special days of the year in Night Court.

Azriel had taken extra time to get ready for tonight, dressing himself comfortably, but also regally. It wasn’t too much, and it wasn’t too little. He liked teetering on the balance between the two, it often let him blend into the background while his brothers enjoyed their mates.

When he arrived, he’d first seen Nyx slip off into a dance with another woman of Night Court, not too uncommon for the male at these parties.

Nesta danced with Cassian, playfully teasing him about something as he laughed and retorted, all the while Feyre and Rhys slowly danced between sipping on glasses of wine, content to bask in this moment together.

Family dances weren’t uncommon, which was why you didn’t think much of it when Azriel offered you his hand for a dance. It was almost a habit at this point, as you two ended up lumped together now since everyone else seemed to have found their happy ending.

“If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but leave her alone.”

Rhysand had told him. And he had left Elain alone.

Now, weeks, months, and years later, Elain was happy with Lucien, basking in his warmth and domesticity as they both shared a home in Day Court, Lucien now the proclaimed heir of Helion after his heritage was discovered and revealed.

Mor was still “single”, but Azriel knew better, with the way she still gave eyes to that one waitress at Rita’s who always touched and looked at her longer than necessary. That was Mor’s decision on whether to reveal it to the family or not, and he understood it.

Nyx was still…hopping from female to female, happy with the cheap thrills the Night Court ladies could give him. According to his shadows, the boy had recently caught the eyes of a specific girl, his usual pattern of getting bored and moving on crumbling in the face of her.

However, it was just you and Azriel, surrounded by mated couples and lovers as he gently pulled you closer to him, hands intertwining with his with a practiced ease, while you both began a slow, gentle dance to the rhythm of the music. Your eyes were on the stars, the ones which your father had always told you were spirits migrating, or traveling on this day in particular, for whatever reason.

His eyes were on you, watching as your deep blue eyes, freckled with what looked like stars amidst an aurora haze observed the night sky. No matter how many times you saw it, it always seemed to amaze you. Something he was a bit jealous of.

Your black hair, midnight as your father’s, fell in waves against your tanned skin, a fair mixture between your mother and father. The dark wings, courtesy of your father, were tucked neatly in on your back, as they usually were during events like these, though they slowly relaxed as you got lost in the music and cool atmosphere of this night.

It was then that it had happened.

You had turned to look at him, blue eyes full of the quiet appreciation and confidence that mirrored his own in some ways, meeting his dark hazel ones, that sparks seemed to fly in both of your veins.

His eyes widened, something you had seldom seen before. The shadows around him tightened, agitated, before going to your side and some wrapping around you, their whispered touches cold against your warm skin.

Both of your feet faltered, hands that were intertwined loosening, but staying together. It was only the two of you in that moment, everything else seemed to be drowned out by the roaring in your ears.

That was what he had been to you, never an uncle like Cassian, never a full authority figure, not a friend, but your mate.

The realization of what had just happened hit like a brick. You and Azriel were mates. It had taken your father almost five centuries to find his mate, the same for Cassian, and you were lucky enough to find him this early in life. You mentally wrapped tender hands around the golden thread in your chest, tying you both together, and very hesitantly pulled on it.

Based on the way he jerked and twitched, before pulling on his end, making you do the same thing, colliding with his chest with a small ‘oomph’, confirmed everything for the both of you.

He hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, watching painfully close for any tiny sign of fear, pain, anger…, anything he didn’t want to cause. You could only wrap your arms around him in return, too enamored with the male in front of you to care about the two of you embracing like lovers at Starfall, for all to see.

They could see, you didn’t mind.

*********************************************************

From the moment the bond had snapped, and overwhelming heat and affection had flooded his being, Azriel knew he was fucked.

Wrapping his arms around you felt like the best thing he’d ever experienced, filling that empty, hollow space inside of him. It felt as if you were melting into him, slowly filling every hole, sealing every crack and crevice, except for the one thing left; accepting it.

He would die before putting pressure on you. You would accept it when you were ready. Even then, as much as he hated the thought of Rhys throwing around his status again, he knew he had to do this carefully or he could very well be banned from seeing you until you were deemed ‘ready’.

Even now Rhys was watching, eyes narrowing in what looked like curiosity as he watched the scene before him, his daughter and shadowsinger, both reserved, slightly shy people, openly embracing and seeming utterly lost in each other. If that hadn’t given it away, then the tears that seemed to well up in Azriel’s eyes, and the ones already running down your cheeks, did.

He murmured something quietly to Feyre, slipping off with an apologetic glance as he walked quickly over to you, trying to gently pull you into his arms. That always worked. To his surprise, you clung to Azriel like he was a lifeline, turning to him, crying silently as you sniffled.

His first urge was to slaughter Azriel for whatever he’d done to upset you, but he knew that wasn’t reasonable.

“What’s-?”

He began to ask, before meeting Azriel’s gaze. His eyes were welled with what looked like tears, pure desperation and pleading so strong in his eyes, something he hadn’t seen before from his Spymaster.

“We’re mates.”

The two words were almost a whisper, but as soon as he heard it, his heart nearly stopped. From the way you clung to Azriel, he could tell that you probably wouldn’t reject the bond whatsoever, and the way Azriel held you, his touch desperate but also so loving and gentle, he knew that it would be hopeless to try and separate you two.

His hand went to rub the bridge of his nose for a moment, before his eyes went to you again, then glancing up at Azriel, a silent question in his gaze.

‘Can you control yourself around her?’

Azriel seemed almost relieved at that, nodding almost imperceptibly. He had amazing control over himself, Rhys knew that about him, but with a mate, and his daughter at that? He was anxious, which wasn’t common for the High Lord. With a sigh, he spoke again.

“Have fun, but don’t rush anything. We can talk through this in the morning.”

Your father said, another sharp glance at Azriel, before he returned to Feyre’s side, no doubt informing her on what had happened. His violet eyes burned into the two of you all night as you danced and laughed and Azriel even managed to get you to take a little sip of wine, at which you deemed it “gross” and poured it out.

The night didn’t last nearly long enough, as Azriel finally escorted you back to your room, embracing you one last time in a way that made him feel complete, before leaning down and murmuring into your ear.

“Sleep well. We have plenty to do tomorrow.”

The tips of your ears turned pink at the implication, but he was gone before you could even get a word in. You reluctantly crawled into bed, trying to get at least a wink of sleep in, and barely succeeding.

*********************************************************

The next morning was a bit awkward, not to mention nerve-wracking.

Your parents looked worried, and your father seemed a bit stern, unusual for him this early in the morning. Azriel was already seated on the couch, scarred fingers twitching as they drummed against his thigh when you walked in, sitting right next to him.

His wing curled instinctively around you, with him not giving a damn about what Rhys or Feyre thought of it.

With a heavy sigh, Rhys turned to face you, meeting your gaze.

“Do you want to-”

“Yes.”

You replied, not an inch of hesitation or uncertainty in your usually quiet tone. Gods, you wanted to accept the bond, all you needed was for your parents to give their permission, and hopefully approve of it.

Rhys’ eyes narrowed, studying you and Azriel, before softening. His little girl was all grown up, and it was unfair to try and pull rank or any other bullshit to keep her from her mate, or to keep Azriel from his equal.

“You can use the cabin, I’ll…be checking on you.”

He said, voice rough with emotion. Azriel nodded, a silent thanks before his hands gently pulled you onto his lap. In a swirl of darkness and shadows, you were both sitting on the couch of the cabin in Illyria, your mother’s paintings still bright and fresh in the warm cabin.

“You know what to do, right?”

He asked, the words quiet but affectionate.

You gave a little nod. Offer him food. That was pretty much it.

“I’ll just go get an apple or something. Also, could you start the fire? It’s freezing.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound rich and deep, before pressing a kiss to your forehead and reluctantly getting up to go light the wood in the fireplace.

You walked over into the kitchen, pulling a fresh apple from what looked to be a fruit bowl, before eagerly chopping it up into pieces with a knife. You could hear the fire crackling before you saw it, walking back in to meet Azriel in the living room where he stood patiently.

You offered him a slice of the apple, already chewing your own, and he smiled softly, accepting it with a quiet,

“Thank you.”

Before popping it into his mouth, chewing slowly, and savoring it while maintaining eye contact with you the entire time. You felt the bond split open, all sorts of feelings and thoughts both coming from your mind and coming from his, flooding your brain.

You didn’t try to filter your thoughts, no matter how embarrassing they got. He got to have all of you. He seemed to feel the same way.

It was so quick that you barely even noticed him moving, but in a matter of moments and the swirling of shadows, you were both on the bed in a room, his lips moving eagerly against yours as his body slotted into place above you and between your legs. His tongue nudged at your lips, before slipping inside your mouth and dancing with yours, the lingering taste of the apple still there.

Your hips began slowly grinding against his clothes cock, already feeling it through his pants and how it throbbed. You could’ve sworn you even felt a pulse.

He let out a guttural groan at that, only pulling away from your mouth to breathe, taking in hot, heavy pants that had your pussy drooling. Whether he felt it through the bond or smelled your arousal, you could see his eyes widen and nostrils flare, before his lips quirked up at the corners.

“Az, please-“

You whined, already needing more of him. You needed more than friction, you needed touching and contact. He only nodded and began pulling your dress off, surprisingly carefully, his limbs trembling with restraint.

“I know, sweet girl.”

His shirt and pants were soon to go, and his boxers were then tossed to the floor. Your eyes widened as you saw his cock, long and thick as it was, the tip was an angry red and leaking, as soon as it was released it slapped against his stomach. He caught you staring, seeing the slight fear and hesitation in your gaze.

“Are you sure that’s going to..fit?”

You asked, voice more timid and meek than you wanted it to be. Your panties joined the pile of clothes on the floor while his hands began rubbing your tender breasts, kneading them and rubbing your pert nipples between his thumb and finger.

He chuckled lowly at your question.

“It will, I promise. I’m going to use my fingers first to stretch you a bit if that's alright?”

He asked, one finger brushing gently through your folds as he bit his tongue, trying to keep groaning at how wet you already were. Barely any stimulation and you were already writhing under him. So sensitive it was adorable. As much as he wanted to take his time and drag this out, to make you beg and plead until you were a mess, he didn’t have the patience, not now.

You nodded.

“Please.”

The word slipped from between your lips before you could even think, already whimpering as one finger gently began slipping into you. He marveled at how tight you were, thoughts already wandering as his fingers began curling, thumb massaging your clit. As you moaned and cried out, legs already trembling and trying to close, he held them open, settling between them as another finger was scissored into your cunt.

A white, hot heat had begun building in your body before you could begin to process what was happening, moans spilling from your lips like water flowing from a waterfall. More fingers slipped in, his thumb still running circles with just the right amount of pleasure on your clit.

It was too much.

“Az- Az, please, I’m gonna-“

And then it felt like everything exploded.

He watched you fall apart around his fingers, the three of them working in tandem, curling against that spongy spit in your walls as his thumb worked your clit sinfully good. His cock was aching as he tried rubbing it against your leg for at least some friction, which didn’t succeed.

“It’s okay, you’re alright, you’re doing perfect for me, okay?”

He murmured to you, slowly watching as you came down from your high, thighs trembling, tears already drying. Your body wanted more. The frenzy demanded more.

One of your hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, at which he curiously watched. You whined, glancing at his cock and gesturing to it.

“Words, honey. What do you want?”

He asked gently, looking down at you with enough affectionate lust to make you melt on sight as you opened your mouth to speak.

“Your cock. Want it inside.”

You mumbled, cheeks flushed red as you sniffled, giving him a pleading gaze he couldn’t do anything but give in to as he leaned forward, hovering just above your body, his arms braced on his elbows on either side of your head after he’d lined himself up with your entrance.

“Just take a deep breath for me and relax, sweet girl.”

He spoke softly to you, taking a deep breath of his own before nudging the tip in, slowly letting inch after inch go in, watching your expression for any hint of pain and slowing down at any sign of it.

Your face was contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure, hips bucking up as you gasped at him being pushed deeper, his raw groaning an easy answer to it.

“Cauldron, you’re big.”

You whined against the skin of his chest, nose buried in the nook of his shoulder. He let out a strained laugh, not at you, but at your words.

“I take great pride in it.”

He teased back, before letting out a sigh of relief as he bottomed out.

“Need a minute, hold on-“

You said, breathless as you tried to adjust to the feeling of Azriel splitting you open. You’d never felt anything this big in you before, only having the liberty of your fingers or occasionally a toy doing the trick. He was nestled so deep that it felt like he could easily rearrange your organs if he wanted to.

“Tell me when,”

He managed to say back, every muscle in his sculpted body taught as he held back, that was, until, you began rocking your hips into his after a few minutes longer. His eyes almost rolled back in his head as he, Azriel, Spymaster of Night Court, let out the sluttiest whimper you’d ever heard as he began slowly pumping in and out.

“I’m not going to last,”

He rasped, and after a few minutes he was already about to fall apart completely, the feeling of your- his mate’s tight heat squeezing his cock like a vice grip, had him so, so close already. You managed a loose, breathy laugh.

“Me neither,”

You got out, the pleasure from earlier already building again into a giant wave, your sensitivity now threatening to overtake you as the world turned into a blur of movement, colors, and shadows. Whether by his command or their own free will, you felt the cold tendrils wind around your clit, circling and rubbing while others gave attention to your pert nipples.

What was really your undoing was when some began playing with your wings, stroking right over the insanely sensitive spot that had you arching and writhing beneath Azriel, moans and cries and sobs of pleasure echoing through the room.

As soon as your pussy fluttered around him and clenched, it fully succeeded in milking him of his cum as he came in thick spurts, bucking his hips wildly into you with a groan. It was only after that, that he settled ever so gently on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight.

The sounds of panting were the only ones for a few minutes before your bodes began screaming for more, more, more…

“Again.”

Part 2

[anantaru]

a/n. ✩ ˛˚ . i am currently sick and wanted to write something sweet, enjoy my loves while I'm drowning myself in hot lemon water, gn! reader

neuvillette likes to buy you flowers.

he doesn't necessarily have a favorite type of flower that he likes to purchase for you, because to him, it's the plant itself that reminded him of you.

for one, when he looks outside the window to catch the neat, sprouting garden outside your home, the sun rays shimmer gently along the various petals, rainbow roses stretching and slowly opening its eyes to the soft tickle of warmth.

to neuvillette, it felt the same as when he hears your voice whisper a honey-like "good morning" first thing during sunrise, and he wishes he could explain to you just how much the sound of your voice gave him butterflies and hope.

one part of him was on fire when you begin to smile as you realize he had bought you a bouquet full of blossoming lumidouce bells again.

to neuvillette, your grateful smile was resembling a warm gesture that was widely manifested in a garden scented with the fragrance of nectarous flowers, various plants going crazy when they receive the warm affection of the sun.

now, the man was calm and peaceful knowing that you liked them and that when he wasn't here with you, there was at least something that would always remind you of him.

you move towards him, slanting close, settling on his lap, and it makes his heart skip a beat when you leisurely wrap your arms around his neck to pull him into a quick kiss— because you see, every time he connects with you physically, neuvillette felt like you were a piece of him that had been missing perpetually.

neuvillette moves his tongue gently until you forget yourself into his trace, savoring the moment as he runs a finger along your thigh. you shift your hips a little to move closer, a wave of felicity shielding your bodies before the man decides to break the kiss as to catch his breath.

restraining his bliss for a moment, the iudex reminds himself that work had been awaiting him.

he takes your hand and squeezes it gently, "i assume you like the flowers?" as he questions lightly, even though he fully knew the answer to his own questioning— yet his mellow voice was so full of passion like it was attempting to burst his lungs, unable to exclaim the deep gratitude he felt.

you snicker back, quite absorbed in watching him blush vividly after one kiss, "you ask if i like them? i love each and every one of them," you continue, sounding sweet to his ears, "thank you, i will take care of them while you're gone,"

your gentle lips pass a smile, and you admire his eyes, see and notice how they had been cosseting your own.

this love, it wasn't like one you had encountered in the past— because the one you shared with neuvillette was an union of souls and hearts and minds, not something you could put under a microscope and understand immediately, because simply put, it was too complex for that, strong and unbreakable.

pure love, like a liquid which descends from the clouds in rain with your body feeling different— bouncier, more energetic.

feeling happy.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[maiverie]

THE RAIN HAS AN EDGE ╰ ﹙ ☁️ ﹚ft. park sunghoon ﹕ a oneshot ﹙ preview ﹚

you are the girl with an umbrella on a rainy day, and sunghoon is the boy at the bus stop drenched from head to toe.

in a nutshell ﹒ there’s a heavy downpour so you hold an umbrella over sunghoon and he looks at you like you’re crazy // 100% fluff

word count ﹒ preview is 1.5k; full ver ~6-7k

fic one of the chasing rainbows series ﹙ coming soon ! ﹚

“true, the sun and the wind inspire. but the rain has an edge. who, after all, dreams of dancing in the dust? or kissing in the bright sun?” — cynthia barnett

now playing ﹒ paris in the rain﹙ lauv ﹚

THE FIRST TIME you talk to park sunghoon, it’s raining, it’s cold, and jake had ditched you to “hang out” with chaewon, because he’s a crappy friend who pounces at any opportunity for female attention.

after your study session in the school library finishes, you find yourself standing at the school’s front entrance, grimacing at the downpour of rain in front of you. heavy pellets pummel from the sky like bullets, forming puddles in the divots of the ground and lowering the temperature enough to make you shiver. 

lucky for you, you remembered to bring your umbrella.

this was a habit of yours even on the sunniest of days, after spending five days bedridden with a fever following The Great Downpour of 2020.

when you reached for your backpack and unfurled your umbrella, it sprung to life and off you went, hopping down the cement paveway that led to the nearest bus stop.

you’re just about to slip in your earphones when you stop in your tracks, spotting a figure a few steps ahead of you. 

the person is crouching on the ground at the bus stop, hunched over and hugging their bookbag in an attempt at gathering warmth. 

the person is drenched and miserable.

and practically radiating angst and despair.  

because you’ve always been a totally (impulsive) caring and selfless person, you shuffle over and hold your umbrella over the person’s head.

they look up — and just when you encounter a cold gaze, dark brows and raven hair — you realise that the moody figure is none other than park sunghoon.

park sunghoon, the ridiculously good-looking senior everybody whispers about but doesn’t actually know anything about. 

park sunghoon, the guy who always wears a stoic, unsmiling expression that makes him the most unapproachable of his group of friends. 

and park sunghoon, the one who’s staring at you with a baffled and slightly distrustful expression on his face. 

oh.

you’re just standing here, staring at him like a creep. 

crap.

you should say something.

you open and shut your mouth a few times, trying to brainstorm what you might possibly say. you want to sound smart. and funny. and cool. so, naturally, the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a very intelligent and super profound, “it’s, uh. . . raining.”

sunghoon continues to stare, his brows slightly furrowed to suggest he was questioning your sanity. 

“it’s raining,” you stupidly repeat louder, as though he hadn’t heard you over the rain. 

“good catch,” he replies, his gruff voice coinciding with the slight dip of his lips. 

the rumors are so true. 

sunghoon definitely has a very grumpy, rather angsty demeanour. you’ve actually spotted him around school a few times (you may or may not follow him with your eyes every time he’s around. is that a crime? it can’t be! you’re not the only one in the student body who finds him extremely attractive and painfully enigmatic), but he’s not the kind of person you can approach so easily.

in fact, he’s been coined the nickname ice prince for a reason.

“yes, uh,” you struggle to string together a coherent set of words, especially because he stands to his feet now, and you have to make the effort to not be intimidated by his height. 

“what i meant to say is that it’s raining but you don’t have an umbrella,” you laughed awkwardly, wanting to whack your head and yell stupid, stupid, stupid for impulsively waddling over here and saying stupid things to park sunghoon of all people. “i-i mean, obviously it’s a free country and you can totally do whatever you want, but, as you might already know — and i’m sure you do because you’re one of the smartest kids in school — standing in the rain can get you sick, like, really sick, and i only know this because about three years ago i forgot my umbrella and — funny story — i ended up getting so sick that i had to take five days off school because my fever was so high.”

oh god.

you quickly slap the tips of your fingers over your lips to physically restrain yourself from talking. the motion makes sunghoon’s gaze quickly flit to your lips, before they bounce back up to your eyes.

his stare is so painfully emotionless that you cringe inwardly.

you wish he’d say something.

anything. literally anything.

but he’s silent.

well, of course he is — you basically just trauma dumped about your stupid fever story. boo-hoo, you were sick from the rain — who cares?

just when you think you’ve reached the death of the conversation, you’re surprised by the sound of his soft voice.

“. . . niki.”

huh?

you blink, leaning in slightly so that you can hear him better.

“. . . niki. my brother. he took the last umbrella.”

oh.

your lips form a small o as you nod in understanding. “oh, niki! that doesn’t surprise me. he’s in my class, you know, and he’s always playing pranks on our teacher. one time he actually hid the test papers so we got a whole extra day to study,” your voice lowers to a whisper, “can’t believe i still failed it though. . .”

sunghoon doesn’t say anything, and afraid of being submerged in awkward silence again, you rush to fill in the space. 

“so where’s niki now?”

he shrugs. “soccer practice, probably.”

“oh,” you frown. “wait, aren’t you part of the soccer team, too? you’re the goalie. you saved so many goals last season and helped the team to their first win in two years,” you say, though your eyes widen in panic as soon the words leave your mouth, “n-not that i’m a stalker, or anything,” you frantically add, “it’s just that everyone knows you’re the goalie because one, it’s common knowledge, and two, the game is coming up and we’re all on the edge of our seats to find out how it goes!” 

stupid stupid stupid. 

why are you rambling so much? 

sunghoon doesn’t seem to mind, though his lips flatten in a rather sour manner. “i quit the team, actually.”

you gasp. “you’re the person jake is replacing? he’s been so cocky ever since it was announced that he’d be on the team. what made you quit?”

he shrugs, “it got boring,” he mumbles, then his ears turn slightly red and he dips his head in an emotion you never imagined park sunghoon could wear — embarrassment. “and i accidentally sprained my ankle.”

you blinked in surprise. “how?”

he hesitates before answering. “i tripped.” 

you stifle a laugh at the irony, because while sunghoon was a lot of adjectives — tall, handsome, mysterious, brooding, kind of scary, even — you never thought he was clumsy.

you softly cackle, earning you a glare from the boy. 

“sorry,” you grin playfully, growing accustomed to his icy aura. “i just never pictured you as a klutz.”

“says you,” he grumbles, “weren’t you the one who tripped and fell in the cafeteria last week? ”

“what—” you choked, “you saw that?”

he exhaled through his nose in amusement. “who didn’t?” sunghoon raised a brow at you. “i’m pretty sure someone recorded and posted it. the caption was ‘dumbass fails to do simple task and ends up with food all over her clothes.’”

your eyes slammed shut before they shot open. “fucking jake,” you growled, gripping the umbrella tightly. “i’m going to kill him.”

sunghoon chuckled, and the sound made your heart beat a little faster. you caught a fleeting glimpse of his smile which — by the way — showcased the most emotion you had ever seen from the boy. it couldn’t be helped that your stomach mangled and twisted at his pearly-white boyish smile, one that made his cheeks bunch up his face and his eyes twinkle like stars.

how pretty.

his smile faded as quickly as it appeared, however, and you soon found yourself facing his usual blank expression again. 

you want to try say something that might make him smile or laugh again, but he suddenly steps outside of the cage of your umbrella and raises his hand, hailing down the incoming bus. 

it slowly stops by the road beside the two of you, marking the end of your little interaction. 

“oh, your bus is here,” you force a smile, rather disappointed. “i’ll, um, see you later, sunghoon.”

“get home safe,” he retrieves his bus card from his pocket, glancing over his shoulder before he boards his bus. “and thanks. for the umbrella.” 

“n-no problem!” you quickly smile, “and by the way, my name is—”

“i know your name,” he interjects, and you think your mind is playing tricks on you when you see the edges of his lips twitch upward. “see you around.” 

sunghoon disappears into the bus and it whizzes by you, though you stay frozen in your feet for what feels like forever. 

he knows your name.

he’ll see you around.

you tuck your lip between your teeth, cheeks and ears flaring up.

and he wants you to get home safe.

.

( to be continued )

this is a preview only ﹒ full fic is estimated 6-7k ﹒ taglist open — send an ask, dm, or reply !

a/n . btw this is a preview only. the full fic might come out next week ? anyway my first hoonie fic and it's 100% pure, unadulterated fluff <3 this is inspired by paris in the rain + the above quote + an exo fic i adore ^^ hope u all liked it :) see u in the full version maybe 🤓

[dumplingsjinson]

List of random dialogue prompts (pt. 2)

“If you felt want and longing the way I did — the way I still do — I promise you’d be driven fucking mad.”

“I wanted the thrill of the chase more than I wanted you.” 

“You really couldn’t have been any more obvious.” “That’s because I didn’t have anything to hide. I was being obvious, because I needed you to know, without a doubt, that I love you.” 

“This is literally the worst moment for me to be saying this but considering how we could die at any second, I need to get this off my chest before I become buried six feet under, without a chance to say any of this to you: I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids. I’ve loved you every second of my life; from the moment when I knew what loving someone really meant.” 

“I kinda knew I lost all feelings for you when I realised I didn’t want to communicate with you about the problems that were happening between us. I became complaisant.” 

“Loving you is as easy as overthinking everything.” 

“It’s… easy with you. Nice. I don’t have to be someone else to impress you, because I know you love me for me.”

“There are parts of me I’d never thought I’d show to anyone else, but then… You came along, and for some reason, you made me want to be honest with you; bare my soul to you.”

“So what in the hell are we? I’m not doing this unless we’re on the same page.” 

“Please don’t tell me we’re nothing to you… That I mean nothing after everything’s that happened.”

“You’re my emotional support human, and I love you so, so much.”

“If you ever need me, I’ll be right here. Just as I’ve always been.” 

“I’d let you break my heart, if it means I’d get to have you for even a day.” 

“You make me feel like dancing in the pouring rain wouldn’t be such a bad thing.” 

“You’re astoundingly unhealthy for me, but do I care? No, because I wouldn’t have fallen if I cared, especially when I’m someone who’s usually so careful with whom I give my heart to.”

“…I didn’t drunk call you. It wasn’t a drunk call. I called you, perfectly sober.” 

“You’re someone I want to tell things to.”

“What’s more important to me is that I’m your last love.” 

“This… This hurts me more than it hurts you.”

“Falling in love wasn’t on the agenda.” “Do you mean falling in love with me out of all people wasn’t on the agenda?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’m kind of in love?”

“…I want all of you. On top, under, whatever — I don’t care, I just want you.”

“Maybe I can help you forget about them.”

“It’s easier to pretend I’m still in love with them, than leave them in that state.” “You know you basically lying to them about your feelings is gonna hurt them more in the long run, right?” 

“Why does it have to be them? Why can’t it be me?”

“I’ll give you two seconds to take that back.” 

“You gotta work for it, love.” 

“We can pretend that didn’t happen.” “I’m sorry, but I’m not as good of an actor as you are.”

“I don’t know how to… I’ve never done this before.” “Then follow my lead, okay?”

“I’m someone who falls in love easily, but I’m also someone who can’t get over someone as easily.”

“I want to make this work, because I don’t— I don’t want to— I can’t lose you.” 

“You make me want to be a better version of myself.”

“I don’t wanna mess this up with you.” “You won’t. I promise, you won’t, so just… Do whatever. I trust you.”  

“Why are you smiling at your phone?” “…I was looking at the mail app, and uh… Received some good news?”

“Because love isn’t linear. You know that, right?”

“I’m not doing this for you — I’m doing this for myself.” 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be that person for you.”

“I’m here to stay. At least until you want me gone, which I hope is never.” 

“Chasing you is like chasing the rainbow… It’s impossible. You’re always slipping away no matter how fast I run after you.”

“Don’t give me that it’s not you, it’s me bullcrap. It’s us both. We’re both at fault for this relationship breakdown.” 

“God, I just like you so, so much.” 

“I think I need to get over you for me to feel better again.” 

“You and your stupid smile… Stop that.” 

“I just need you in me somehow, please—”

“I really hope you realised they were flirting with you.” “…They were?”

“I’ve caught feelings for you, and I know you don’t like me back that way so I just… Wanted to tell you, before I decide to let you go.”

“I’ll be here to pick up the broken pieces if that’s what you want me to do, but I’ll leave if you’re not ready for that… For something more with me.” 

“I love you, but I… I don’t think I see a future with you.” 

“Give me a week. A week, and I’ll be back to normal. A week, and I’ll… I’ll be over you. Just a week and you’ll have the old me back. It’s that easy, I promise.”

“I kinda wanna give myself a concussion so I can forget about you and not think about you twenty-four-seven.” 

(pt. 1) | (pt. 3)

[weirdmorefics]

Hello! Love your Bridgerton fics, I was wondering if you could do a Anthony x wife!reader and she’s like the complete opposite to him (personality wise) sorta like grumpy x sunshine trope? Have a good day/night 💙

Sending love from Scotland!

A/N- Hi! Thanks for waiting for me to make the request! I can't believe someone so far away sees my silly little fanfics. I love the internet

Pronouns- She/Her

Word Count- 533

Tooth rotting fluff

Summary- Anthony has been doing everything to get Eloise to participate in the balls and behave at least somewhat ladylike. He loses his temper but the reader is there to calm the nerves of everyone.

The Rainbow After The Rain

"Eloise!" I hear Anthony shout so loud as it reverberates off our window window panes. I quickly draw the curtain back to see the commotion. Eloise seems to be simply sitting on the tree swing reading however, the whole house is aware of the fact that we are late to the ball. This wouldn't have been such a big argument if it weren't for this particular ball being Eloise's introduction to society. I sigh and put the curtain back to where it once was and make my way to the garden.

The two don't seem to notice my appearance too involved in their battle of wits. I clear my throat to hopefully garner some of their attention to no avail. Eloise is going on about how barbaric the whole tradition is and how she does not wish to marry and Anthony is shouting about she is already dressed and no one is asking her to marry someone tonight. I clap my hands twice loudly which finally snaps their eyes up to my presence.

Anthony's once furrowed angry eyebrows turn into a soft gaze, "Darling."

I ignore Anthony and go straight to Eloise. I can tell by the way his hands instantly turn to fists he is angry with my actions.

"Now Eloise, is my dear husband bothering you?" I say with a sweet smile.

"Indeed, he is being quite troublesome," Eloise smirks as we tease Anthony together.

"Isn't he always," I look at Anthony with love and his once tense shoulders seem to relax at the familiar jest. "I must say Eloise you look absolutely handsome in your gown. I think it would be a waste to not let others see beauty. Do you really want your beauty wasted on your grumpy big brother?"

Eloise puts a finger to her chin in thought, "I suppose you are correct it certainly would be a waste on Anthony."

"Is Y/n not always right?" Anthony questions.

I get up on my tiptoes and place a chaste kiss on Anthony's cheek, "Aw, he is learning."

"Truly, Y/n where would be without you. Anthony would be all rain no shine."

"Lucky, for all the Bridgerton they won't ever have to find out." I smile widely at Eloise. "Now, shall we get you to your ball! I am sure your late entrance will just make you shine more." I link arms with Eloise to guide her to the carriage and my lovely Anthony links arms with my other.

"I think Y/n is more like my rainbow," Anthony interjects.

Eloise and I both turn our heads to look at him like he has utterly lost it.

"She is my light after the storm," he replies after seeing our confused faces.

I can feel my face instantly burn and I am sure I must look like a tomato as Anthony's face turns from love to a smug eating grin.

Eloise gags, "If you want me to make it to the ball I think it is best you do not make me vomit myself to death beforehand."

I bite my lip to stop the laughter but Anthony fully lets out a deep laugh, my favorite sound in the world.

[blackdollette]

hi hi :3 can i request something with spencer after a particularly agonizing case and he’s just being stand offish and a little rude with just a smidge of fluff at the end bc they talk it out or something ^.^

this request is longggg overdue :((

"if i had my way, you would always stay." | s. reid

tomorrow never came. - lana del rey

fill out the taglist form! : @thirtyratsinasuit @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @sleepysongbirdsings @pleasantwitchgarden @emma-e-a @bellasprettywords

⊹₊⋆ pairing:bau!female!reader x spencer

⊹₊⋆ word count: 960

⊹₊⋆ contents: dismissive spencer, slight tension, a little fluff

“am i seeing you tonight?”

you sat at spencer's desk, fiddling around with his large assortment of pens arranged in rainbow order, watching as he scattered through mounds of files.

he glanced back at you through his peripheral vision.

“you're seeing me right now, aren't you?”

you snorted out a little laugh, your spinning chair groaning lowly as you stood up and approached him. you stood right behind him, slowly trailing your hands up his clothed arms and back down again.

“not like that, genius. we made plans last week, remember? i've been looking forward to them all day.”

spencer swallowed hard as he flipped through a particularly gorey photo of the current victim. a honey-crusted wound infested with an assortment of bugs and rodents feasting on the rotting flesh. what a wonderful way to get him in the mood.

your eyes shot away from the image faster than they landed on it. you removed your hands from him, now awkwardly tapping at your sides.

“i'm not sure how you can talk about the plans we made 168 hours ago when we've got a case like this on our hands.” he murmured, not even bringing his gaze to yours for a second.

you froze up, not used to being shut down by him like this. you didn't want to admit it, but this case had been rubbing him the wrong way since the start. and it has definitely taken a toll on him.

you cleared your throat, the room suddenly seeming a little warm. “y-yeah, i know. but… taking a break might be good for you. for us.”

you smiled, hoping that he would return the warmth with that dorky grin of his. but he just looked straight at you with a blank stare.

“taking a break isn’t going to get us any closer to solving this. who knows how many people could be in danger right now…”

your body grew stiff, your palms becoming clammy as he shifted his attention away from you once again. over the past day, spencer had seemed to build a wall around himself, subconsciously pushing you away. but the last thing you could do was blame him for his change in demeanor. he was right, after all. who knew how many other lives were about to meet a gruesome end…

the thought sent a shiver down your spine, a heavy pit filling your stomach. the atmosphere in the room had become uninhabitable in just a matter of seconds.

you shuffled back to your desk, picking up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, glancing at the analog clock that hung on the wall behind you. it was a couple minutes past midnight, the latest you had ever stayed at the office.

“i’m going to call it a night. see you tomorrow, spence…”

no response. you weren’t even sure that he heard you. with a deep sigh, you led yourself out. a cold shower of rain hit you as soon as you stepped outside. quickly walking to your car, your slumped into the seat, looking back at the building as you drove away.

~ ~ ~

after a much-needed shower, you sank down into your soft bed, feeling your tensed muscles relax. though your body was slowly succumbing to the exhaustion, your mind was still buzzing actively. with the current case, the heavy storm that was tearing through your neighbourhood, and most of all: spencer.

you knew it wasn’t his fault, but this stood as a reality check to you. in the grand scheme of things, you only stood as a temporary distraction from the things that really mattered to him. a deep, shaky breath escaped your parted lips. the best thing to do right then was to try and get some sleep.

as your eyes slowly drooped shut, the shrill scream of your doorbell rang through the room. your body jolted from the startle. it was an hour past midnight. what sane person would be up and ringing doorbells at this hour?

you groaned, standing up from your bed and slipping on a pair of socks, making your way to answer the door. you looked through the peephole, but the blackness of the night consumed your vision. 

you slowly turned the door handle, poking your head out just enough to see who was there. with his sodden hair plastered across his face, the umbrella over his head practically useless, spencer met your curious gaze with a shy little smile.

“h-hey…” a loud sneeze over took his body. “i-it’s really cold out here…”

you felt a twinge of pity for him. his nose and cheeks were stained with splotches of pink and the bags under his eyes were telltales of how big a toll the case was having on him.

“spencer… what’s going on..?”

he couldn’t bring his eyes to you, but you could sense that he was tensed.

“the team thought i’d be a good idea to call it a night…” he began to fiddle with his thumbs. “...you’re not mad at me, right..?”

he met your gaze, his eyes pleading. you sighed deeply.

“no, i’m not mad. but what are you doing here? you should be heading home.”

he sniffled, wiping his nose with his dampened sleeve.

“o-oh. well… i was hoping that we could watch a movie or something. i-i can cook you dinner and we can have a good time. just like we planned…”

you rubbed your eyes, trying to fight the smile that tugged at your lips. spencer finally looked at your attire, taking in the sight of you in your pajamas.

“oh, were you in bed? did i wake you up?”

you laughed, putting a hand on his arm and stroking it gently.

“don’t worry about it, spence. come on in.”

author's note: i wanna get another spencer fic out today.

[sleepymccoy]

I have some general anxiety about going to supermarkets aimed at specific cultures because the intended clientele is not lil white me and the staff often don't speak english and I feel inappropriate. But not once has this been true, and I've always enjoyed my visit. Anyway, that's a preface so you can appreciate how brave I am

My colleague recently made me lahpet which is a Burmese salad including pickled tea leaves, dried beans mix, and tomatoes. I loved it and wanted more. I live in a densely Chinese area and thought one of the many supermarkets might have something Burmese, so I brought the empty jar to every store.

Many don't speak english, but that's fine. I had a jar! All interactions basically went like this;

None of them knew Burmese so couldn't even tell me if they had something similar

I gave up and bought it online. Also had a hard time with that cos they don't deliver to apartments (got the vibe that it's just the shop owners son doing deliveries and he couldn't be fucked going upstairs. Valid). But I persevered and got three jars! And the dried beans mix I needed. Way too many dried beans, I totally misjudged the size of the bag being sold

I used one to show my friends this salad. They didn't go as insane over it as I did. I gave another jar to my dad who did go appropriately insane. He said he liked it, then five min later interrupted to say he really liked it, then after dinner spent time with me going through the ingredients and trying to figure out if he can pickle tea leaves himself. Booyah.

Regardless, this left me with one jar which I swiftly finished. So I'm on the hunt again and the online store stresses me out now cos they don't like apartments

I found a Burmese supermarket a few suburbs away and a twenty min walk from the station. Fucking worth it, it's added two hours to my commute home but I want these jars so much. I enjoyed the stroll. It rained a bit, so I saw a couple rainbows

In the store I was, again, immediately stressed. I went down an aisle and back again and found nothing. I found other pickled things! But not my tea leaves! I did not want this trip to be in vain, it was long and I had a shit day at work. I was really only doing it today cos the days a write off as a bad day so I may as well run an annoying errand

Anyway I pulled up the website and showed the lady at the counter a photo of the jar and she pointed me to them immediately. I returned like fifteen seconds later with four jars and she was already on a phone call with someone. I love workers rights. You're awesome, lady.

So I say four and hold four fingers up and pass her one jar. She scans and sets the price right. She then interrupts whoever's talking on the phone to ask me, "How you know this?"

So I quickly explained that my colleague made me the salad and I loved it. She pointed back at the aisle and said, "the beans, you need beans." So I was like "I have so many beans, I bought too many, I just need the pickled leaves." And she was already waving her hand at me in disinterest so I stopped talking and paid lol.

It was a long haul home. I passed and remember to take a photo of my favourite art installation, the tower of coffee cups in a pole.

There's no starbucks in my suburb so one of these at least has taken a long trip to get here. So did I today, my feet are sore

Anyway, I have four jars of miraculous pickled tea leaves. If you can figure out how to buy these ingredients I recommend it to serve alongside very fatty meals like lasagne or sausage cos it cuts through nicely. I also take a serving to work every day because the tea leaves are caffeinated so I'm skipping the second coffee

I love lahpet

[hwaslayer]

love you in slow motion (psh) | four.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, thewarmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 10k

—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, alcohol consumption, intoxication, club scene!, twerkin buns at the clurrrb 🤪, kissing/making out, quick rundown of oc's history with mingi, physical altercation, mention of small injuries/wounds (lip cut), arguments, crying, the silent treatment 💀, hints of a hookup, oc x seonghwa just being a mess per usual sorry 😫 lol

"Are you still riding with me and Joong to the club?" Seonghwa puts your call on speaker while he sits in the passenger's seat of Hongjoong's car.

"Yeah, if I can."

"Can we head over then?"

"Sure. I'm still getting ready."

"We figured." Hongjoong chuckles in the driver's seat, turning into a lot. "What do you want from Egg House?" Seonghwa inches the phone away from his face when you squeal loudly and clap.

"Double egg toast, please!"

"Okay. We'll be there in about 30 minutes or so."

"Thank you!" You hang up the call first and Seonghwa lets out a breath, slouching further in the seat.

"It's so easy to please Y/N." Hongjoong laughs, finding a spot in the opposite end the lot closest to the shop.

"Sometimes."

"San ever tell you about their dinner?"

"Not really. Y/N did. A bit. She was being kinda weird about it, actually."

"Hm." He hums, figuring if it was gonna come from someone, it would be him. "That's probably because they talked about you."

"Me?" Seonghwa furrows his brows in confusion. "What about me?" No wonder you were being so weird about the topic at the aquarium. You couldn't tell him the full story, even though Seonghwa wished you would've. It'd make things way easier.

"What do you mean 'what about you?'" Hongjoong laughs as he heads to the self-checkout area to order. "These unspoken feelings, that's what."

"What did San say?"

"He asked if you two had anything going on with each other."

"Why is that a question when there clearly isn't?"

"Mm, well.." Hongjoong's response has a drip of sarcasm that has Seonghwa

"He didn't have to do that."

"He just didn't wanna get in between anything, of course he had to." Seonghwa is silent and he's biting his tongue because even though he has a rebuttal ready to slip— he's not entirely sure why he'd be defensive and fight back about it.

Hongjoong and San were right. It's not like everyone wasn't aware. The only person who seemed to be was you.

"I don't know what Y/N said. But whatever it was.. was enough for San to just back off." 

"He shouldn't give up on her."

"Him or you?" Joong laughs. "I mean they're still going to be the same. Good friends. I don't think anything was lost. They're probably both comfortable this way, too. Maybe that's just how it's supposed to play out." Joong shrugs. Which, it isn't much of a surprise to Seonghwa when he hears this, especially when you started talking about the potential of ruining things—

♡ FLASHBACK

"As friends. Like we always were." You tug on his wrist. "Hypothetically speaking, if we were to date, would that ruin things between us?" Seonghwa swallows the lump in his throat before shaking his head.

"Why would it ruin things between us?"

"I don't know, because we've always known each other like this. As bestfriends. It could be a dangerous thing, right? Cause we'd know too much about each other or whatever." You look up at him, and he locks his eyes with yours. He wishes he could say everything and nothing at once— but he sticks with the latter, his own example of keeping everything at bay. 

"I truthfully don't think it'd ruin anything."

"B-because I feel like it would and that's why I'm just letting things be with San."

"You sure that's it? Cause I feel like you're asking for a different reason, and not for San in particular."

♡ END

"Hate when you do that." 

"Hate when I'm right and you're wrong.. again?" Seongwa finishes plugging in his order and yours before checking out.

"I got it since you're driving today." Is all he responds before snatching the receipt.

"More gas money for me." Hongjoong snickers, plopping onto a high stool off to the side of the restaurant to wait for the food. 

"Did San say anything else to you?" Joong shrugs and shakes his head.

"Nah. But, he seems to be the same."

"Gotta talk to him." Seonghwa mainly mutters to himself. He just wants San to be okay because he didn't want this idea of you and him getting in the way [despite his feelings]. That was never his intention. But before he can fall into a rabbit hole with his thoughts, his name is being called and a bag full of food is being pushed his way. Joong is already on his way to the car, unlocking the doors to hop in and drive off to your place with a quickness— especially because he was hungry.

When they arrive at your place, they pass through the house to say their hello's to Yaya with Seonghwa handing off the extra sandwich he remembered to buy for her. She happily thanks them before waving them off, telling them that you're probably still getting ready in your suite.

"Hey!" Seonghwa knocks and yells. "Are you decent or whatever?"

"Yeah! Come in!" He hears from the other side just as he tugs on the doorknob. Walking in, he notices a few pieces of clothing scattered along your bed and couch, with you head deep into your closet.

"The hell are you doing?"

"Finding an outfit, what does it look like?" Your response is mumbled as you dig deep into the depths of your closet to find that black cotton mini skirt and a few tops. "Got it!" You hold up a bodysuit and a regular tank in the same color. "Body suit or tank?"

"How the hell are you gonna pee?" Hongjoong asks mid-chew. "Unbuttoning that coochie holder while drunk is crazy."

"You're sick, Kim Hongjoong."

"Nah, tell me. How is that gonna work?" Seonghwa silently takes out your sandwich and plops next to him on the couch.

"He's got a point. I'm not going into that bathroom to save you."

"Ugh." You groan, tossing the bodysuit aside and settling for the tank. "I'll figure out the rest later." You plop next to Hongjoong's free side. "Thank you for the food." You smile over at them.

"Hwa bought it." Hongjoong's eyes are glued to the TV. 

"Thank you, pichu."

"Mhm." Seonghwa responds from his end. 

"Why are San and Woo going separately?"

"San has to help his uncle with something and it might run a bit long. Woo offered to go with him so he wouldn't be alone."

"Mm." You hum. "Hope it doesn't go long."

"Aw. You miss Sannie?" Hongjoong playfully pouts and you hit him on the bicep.

"You're so fucking mean to me." Joong laughs loudly when you continue to whine, Seonghwa contently eating away while watching the show.

"You guys good or what?"

"Yeah, I just want all of us together."

"We will be, don't worry." Seonghwa chimes in and passes you your food. "Eat. I know you'll need like 500 hours to get your makeup and hair done." You glare at him before picking up the sandwich and digging in. You, Joong and Hwa continue to talk amongst each other while watching the TV before you gather the strength to finally get ready for the night. You turn on your bluetooth speaker, blasting your playlist while you get dressed and get your makeup going. Seonghwa has taken a few pregame shots with you in between, now sipping on a canned cocktail to keep him going while you finish up your makeup and hair. You take one more look at yourself in the mirror, satisfied with the oversized black denim jacket, mini skirt, tank and knee high heeled boots you threw on. Your makeup was simple, but enough to pop.

"Damn." Hongjoong teases, playfully checking you out and flattening his brows with two fingers while Seonghwa rolls his eyes. But, he has to say— he's fucking dying inside because of how fine you look tonight.

So fucking beautiful, and Seonghwa wishes he could have you all to himself.

"Go away." You laugh, walking through a cloud of perfume. "I'm ready!"

"About time." Seonghwa teases. "You look good." He breaks contact as he shuts off your bluetooth speaker and is the first to head out the door.

"Thanks, pichu." You shut off the lights and lock your door. "Do you have the bottle?"

"Make sure to hide that shit in the car, I'm not getting pulled over." Hongjoong says, unlocking his car. You hop into the backseat and tuck the unopened soju bottle aside— keeping it safe until you get to the club.

It's a 20 minute drive before Joong is circling the streets to find a good spot. When he finally gets lucky and finds one just a block down, he reverses into the spot flawlessly before shutting off the car and giving off a deep sigh.

"Have at it." He says, texting San to find out his whereabouts while you and Seonghwa continue to pregame some more and finish the bottle. The alcohol is hitting you quickly tonight, the soju being the cherry on top. Joong tells you San and Wooyoung have parked nearby, giving you all the greenlight to meet them halfway and walk together to the club.

You [drunkly] scream loudly when you see the two; running into their arms and letting them swing you around. You feel happier when you're all together, excited for what the night has to bring. You cling onto Seonghwa without realizing, the group behind you two as you walk side by side while engaging in conversation.

"Seonghwa! Why would you say that!" You and Seonghwa laugh loudly while walking down the street to the club. San can't help but divert his attention to you two ahead; watching as you naturally joke around, laugh and playfully bicker. You cling onto Seonghwa and continue to attach yourself to his hip, and the reality settles for San even more.

He is sad, but it's clear this is where you're supposed to be.

Seonghwa continues to tell you his story, leaning in to tell you delicate details even as you fall in line for the club. San realizes things surely haven't changed, because for you and Hwa, all you see is each other. You both don't ever purposefully make anyone feel left out, but at the end of the day, Hwa was always going to prioritize you and vice versa.

This is your own world and San only plays a little part in it. And that's okay. That's completely okay. You deserved to be happy and that's all he wants for you. All he wants for Hwa.

When security finally checks your IDs and lets your group in, the club is packed from wall to wall and you're having to hold Seonghwa's hand while navigating through the crowd. Hongjoong is behind you, gripping at the belt loop of your skirt to help lead the other two trailing him.

"Aye, over there!" Hongjoong tugs on your belt loop and points at the free bartender towards the other end of the club nodding with his lips while nodding. You take the hint and get Seonghwa to navigate to the free area. Once you're there, you feel like you're able to breathe, being able to spread your arms and move around freely.

"Let's go get some drinks from the bartender over there, it isn't busy." Seonghwa points to the small bar area towards the back end. Your group follows, instantly asking the bartender for a few shots of tequila, whiskey, whatever each chose as their own poison. 

The shots are taken to the neck, and before you know it, you're dancing away on the dance floor with your friends. Wooyoung manages to grab a few dances from cuties nearby, dragging San along to cheer him up and find someone he could possibly have fun with. But, amidst all that and all the numbers he manages to grab, he still finds himself looking for you so he can at least have a dance. 

"Y/N?" San comes to you, cheeks tinted red as his hand  caresses at his jaw. 

"What's wrong, Sannie? Are you okay?" You look up at him with those eyes, your hand on his bicep. You're both clearly drunk out of your minds but jesus, is he having trouble containing himself. 

"Y-yeah." He hiccups. "I just wanted to ask if you'd dance with me?" You giggle and nod.

"Let's go!" You grab his hand and take the initiative. At some point the crowd builds and you're separated from your group— Wooyoung floating somewhere out in the chaos, while Hongjoong and Seonghwa are pulling further and further away. You continue to dance with San though, enjoying every moment and having fun while with him. He keeps up with your rhythm, holding you close but making sure you still have enough freedom to move however you want, have space however you want. But, you continue to work on him and dance along to the music, forgetting any worries for the night.

You dance with San for a good chunk of time before you start searching for Seonghwa, who is no longer nearby. You catch wind of him, but your body decides this is the perfect time to break the seal.

"I need to go to the bathroom." You turn to San and tippy-toe to his ear.

"You okay? Want me to come and wait?"

"No, I'm okay. I'll be back." You give him a small reassuring smile before rushing off to the bathroom and waiting in the tiny line that had formed outside the door. You're in and out within 5 minutes, washing your hands and patting your face down with how stuffy the club had gotten. After handling your business in peace, you realize that Seonghwa and Hongjoong are even more separated than you thought when you exit the bathroom— no longer being able to spot them on the main dance floor, especially due to being inebriated. You finally find Wooyoung and San together, tugging on Wooyoung's sleeve to grab his attention.

"Where's Hwa?"

"Iono!" Wooyoung shrugs. "Last time I checked he was somewhere over there with Joongie." He nods in the far back corner behind you. You give Wooyoung's arm a squeeze to thank him before pushing your way through the crowd towards the potential Hongjoong and Seonghwa spot. When you get there, Hongjoong is definitely nowhere to be found, but Seonghwa is talking to some girl. He's leaning in towards her ear in order for her to hear him, and she laughs at whatever the fuck he's saying. It lowkey kinda irks you, even though you have no reason to be feeling that way. You should be happy Seonghwa is putting himself out there and flirting away at the club. 

Not feeling jealous or envious in the least bit that she is occupying his time and space.

"Hey." You come up to him just as she giggles and playfully flips her hair, turning on her heels to walk away. She gives him one last look before she sways her hips and continues walking towards her friends, all of them squealing over the encounter in the middle of the club. "I see you've been busy." He shrugs.

"That's the girl I met. Makayla." You subtly roll your eyes and tap his chest.

"Okay, well I've been looking for you." You kinda pout.

"What's wrong?" He tilts his head.

"Nothing, I just wanted to hang out with you and I couldn't find you for the longest time." He laughs.

"You were dancing with Sannie, weren't you?" He taps your nose. He says it like it's a light, teasing joke, but deep down, Seonghwa had to step away and get outta that spot. He's not gonna lie, he is relieved you're finally looking for him and finding him. 

"So?" He laughs.

"Well, you found me? Stop pouting. We came here to have fun and you're gonna be with me all night." He gently runs a finger down your bottom lip that is still poking out in a pout. 

"Where'd Joong go?"

"Bathroom." 

"Let me grab San and Woo—" Seonghwa tugs at your hand just as you're about to turn, a small frown on his face. As you look at him, not only do you realize how drunk you still are, but you can also pick up on how drunk Seonghwa is, too. His eyes are red and glazed over, cheeks also tinted with a rosey hue. 

Which, with the way he's looking at you, can't be a good thing. 

This won't end well.

And you truly do not care right now.

"Uh-uh, I thought you wanted to hang out for a bit. Dance with me." He says, pulling you flush against him while his teeth subtly nibble on his bottom lip.

"Hwa." You get all shy and unlike yourself, most definitely from the alcohol and the way he's looking at you up and down. You let him keep you close, beginning to dance against him and go with the beat of the current song blasting through the club. 

To set the record straight first and foremost— it's not like you haven't danced with him before. You have, and those times have been careless, free and fun. You didn't have a care in the world, Seonghwa didn't. It wouldn't last because it was harmless fun before you were onto the next and brushing it off like it was any ordinary thing between you two.

Because it was.

Tonight, it isn't. The air is different, and the energy between you two is supercharged; strong, an incredible pull to each other. The air is extra thick and like no other you've experienced with him. You can't really explain it right now, but with recent events, you just know you want Seonghwa.

Just like he wants you.

So you dance, and you dance. The two of you have pushed to the farthest corner of the club that Hongjoong never seems to return to Seonghwa [or maybe he did and didn't wanna bother] and the two of you are left in your own little world. He's still keeping you close, a tight grip on your hips as he feels every inch, every move against him, doing his best to keep up with the rhythm, you.

And god, is it turning you on.

You turn to face him when the song transitions into the next, finding that Seonghwa can't take his eyes off of you. He stares through his hooded lids while he rests against the metal railing, hands still at your hips while your face is only inches away. You watch as his eyes shoot down to your lips, back up to your eyes as if he's begging, pleading, you to make the first move. Because that will be the confirmation he needs— that will open up a whole new box that Seonghwa had been waiting to open, break the lock to a door he had been waiting to walk through. But also, he's too scared to make the first move. Too scared he'd be overthinking, that you're just drunk and you wouldn't mean it—

Suddenly, the impact of your lips crashing into his quickly pulls him out of his thoughts. Instead of breaking away at that moment, the kiss instantly becomes heated, deep. And Seonghwa has to forcibly pull himself off of you because even though he wants this so, so badly, it'll ruin everything if you truly didn't mean anything by it.

"What're you doing, Y/N?" He breaks away and leans towards your ear. His voice is husky and deep, loud enough to barely be heard over the music.

"I can't kiss you?"

"Not if you don't mean it." He bites onto his bottom lip when he pulls back to look at you, hands still resting on your waist.

"Who said I didn't mean it, Hwa?" You say in his ear, shivers running down his spine when he feels your lips graze your jaw. He probably should think about this, really think about this, but he can't. He's just as fucked up as you are, and he's feeling a bit selfish, a tad bit horny. You're positioned in between his legs looking beautiful as ever even under the dim club lights.

He can't help himself.

He cups your cheek as he pulls you back in, kissing you with so much more fervor. He hears you let out a content sigh in between kisses, pressing your body up against him as you grip the sides of his shirt.

"Driving me crazy." He says, pulling back and letting his nose lightly glide over yours. The both of you are slightly panting, lips swollen from all the intense kisses just shared. You'd do it over and over again, though. And if it were up to you, you'd take this home to explore a little further.

You want Seonghwa.

"Am I?" You continue to tease.

"Y/N." He gives you a look. "You have no idea what you do to me." His voice is still husky, deep; vibrating through your ears and sending tingles down your spine. He leans in for another deep, last kiss; biting onto your bottom lip and tugging back before letting it go. He dips to your jaw, to your neck— painting the surface with feathery kisses and tiny, subtle bites.

"Hwa, we're still out." You giggle and gently tap his chest. 

"Right." He sheepishly smiles and continues to hold you.

"I'm gonna grab some water real quick. We should try and find everyone when I come back."

"Let me just come with you." He grabs at your hand.

"I'll be fine, pichu." You smile toothlessly at him. "I'll be back before you know it. Try to text one of the boys! Save our space!"

"Fine." Seonghwa slightly whines as he lets go of your hand and watches you walk off. At this point, San, Wooyoung and Hongjoong find him without Seonghwa having to lift a finger— both San and Wooyoung carrying two glasses in their hands.

"Aye! Finally fucking found your ass. Where's baby girl? Got more shots." Wooyoung looks around for your familiar figure.

"She went to get water."

"I got it right here. Tequila water." Wooyoung snorts at his failed attempt of a joke.

"You're an idiot." Seonghwa shakes his head and takes the glass, holding onto it while looking around the room. It hasn't been long, but he's hoping you haven't been swallowed by the crowd and are at least at the bar requesting for water.

"Let's wait for Y/N." San adds.

"Sounds good with me." Wooyoung shrugs.

5 minutes quickly turns into 10 and you're still not back from your water run. Seonghwa can't help but be worried, eyes now frantically scanning every inch of the room to catch any glimpse of you.

"Damn, that's a long water break. Should we just go to the bar and find her?" Whatever Wooyoung's saying is completely drowned out by Seonghwa because he finally spots you, and he's fuming. Everything in the club seems to drown out, and it almost feels like white noise. Hwa finds you at the opposite corner of the bar, and of course, Song Mingi would be the person you're occupied with. That's why you haven't returned, of fucking course. He continues to watch from his spot, feeling unsettled from the entire situation. It starts off pretty normal, until Mingi starts whispering near your ear; doing his best to pull you close, keep you close. He sees you gently rejecting Mingi's touches, shoving off his hand and pushing his arm away— clearly making you uncomfortable. Seonghwa finds his free hand balled into a fist, already boiling with anger at how Mingi doesn't read any of your signs.

Instead, continues to put you through it because he's your ex. He thinks he can get away with it. He knows he can.

"I'll be back." Seonghwa says taking the shot in one swift motion, setting his empty glass aside on the high table nearby. San furrows his brows as he watches him leave, following his trail over to the opposite end of the club.

"Oh shit." San says under his breath, and Hongjoong is confused.

"What?"

"Mingi." He points over to the other side of the club and Joong lets out a sigh, followed by a heavy—

"Fuck."

As Seonghwa comes from behind, Mingi is the first to spot him and smirks. You don't really notice until Mingi has stopped trying to get close to you, turning over your shoulder to see your own bestfriend shooting daggers his way.

"What's up, Seonghwa?" The way Mingi says his name is so fucking annoying, Hwa can't help but roll his eyes. Mingi leaves out his hand in hopes of Hwa taking it in a friendly dap. All Seonghwa does is look at it before returning his attention back up to him, then back to you.

"Come on. Let's go." Hwa mutters as tries to gently drag you away by the wrist, but Mingi stops him.

"Woah. We were just having a conversation."

"Back up." Seonghwa steps in front of you and tries to get Mingi to back up, creating some distance between you two.

"Kinda rude for someone to intervene when they have no business to."

"Didn't know that required you to put your hands on her."

"Seonghwa." You warn, but he doesn't listen.

"Of course." Mingi laughs and licks his lips before closing in on the distance, clearly drunk and trying to be belligerent by provoking Seonghwa. His face is only a couple of inches away from Seonghwa's, but he isn't doing anything to back down from whatever the fuck Mingi is trying to start. Because yeah, he's drunk too, and this is you they were talking about. "Wanna be all high and mighty now? Be the knight in shining armor you always tried to be?" Mingi snickers.

"Back away from me, Mingi." Seonghwa warns lowly. "Step the fuck away."

"Or what? The fuck are you gonna do about it, Seonghwa?" Mingi mutters. "Think she'll finally give into you?" He chuckles pathetically. "Finally give you what you've been wanting for years? I know you've always been mad because you couldn't bag her when I did. Couldn't touch her, fuck her like—" Seonghwa pushes him with so much power that Mingi stumbles and fall back on a high table nearby, knocking over a glass as his arm hits the table. Mingi recovers quickly though, glaring at him as he pushes Seonghwa back and tries to land a punch on him. Mingi successfully lands it when Hwa fails to dodge, cutting the corner of his lip after the impact. They continue to go at it, causing people to step back and watch the chaos ensue from around.

"Hwa! Get off! Stop!" You scream, trying to pry him off. San, Hongjoong and Wooyoung rush over, both San and Joong having to separate the two until the bouncers come and kick your group and Mingi's group out of the club.

"Jesus fucking christ." Wooyoung glares at the bouncer and throws his hands up. "Okay, okay, we're going!"

"Let me catch you, fucking punk!" You hear Mingi yell as him and his group walk down the opposite block, the bouncers still keeping an eye on your groups to make sure nothing occurs outside of the club and requires police activity. You walk a few steps before you push Seonghwa by the shoulder, forcing him to look at you as he tends to his lip.

"What the fuck did you do that for?!" You look at him and Seonghwa's almost taken aback by your reaction. 

What do you even mean?

He did this to protect you and keep you away from that asshole, but you don't even seem the least bit concerned about him.

At all.

"W-what?" Seonghwa looks at you, his chest rising as he tries to calm himself from all the adrenaline and anger. 

"You didn't have to do that!" You yell, on the verge of tears. You're angry at Seonghwa, but you're angry because you hate seeing him hurt. You hate that he intervened, you hate that he's hurt because of the fight. You're angry, you're hurt, and everything is coming out all wrong. "I was fine, you didn't have to get in between, Seonghwa!"

"The hell you mean I didn't?!"

"Hwa." Hongjoong calls for him, eyeing the bouncers nearby.

"He wasn't doing anything!"

"Here you go again! Be serious for once, Y/N. He's a fucking asshole! When are you going to realize that?!"

♡ FLASHBACK

"Yeah, whatever. Fuck you, Song Mingi." You walk out of his room, aggressively wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Fucking crazy. Get the hell outta here!" He yells from his room, causing you to flip him off as you walk down the hallway and out of his front door. 

Song Mingi was a certified asshole.

Time and time again, your ex-boyfriend of 2 years proves to you that you just aren't shit to him. Two years, then an on-and-off again situation where Mingi just couldn't commit to you again — but he needed you to feel wanted, to feel like he had a safety blanket to fall on, to feel like he could string you along until that very last moment he couldn't. He'd whisper sweet nothings whenever he saw you late nights; no longer leaving his home to go on dates, but to stay wrapped up in his sheets. Telling you things he knows will make you weak, thing he knows will make you stay a little longer. All these years of this back and forth game you played with your ex, you had no idea why you couldn't just learn and do better for yourself instead of letting him reel you in, making you think he genuinely wanted and needed you.

There was no one like you.

You, so perfect.

You, made just for him. 

You should've known better.

This was no one else's fault but your own. You let him in, you let him in, you let him in. And you fall for it every single time, knowing you were never going to be his one and only again, knowing you weren't the only one he was keeping around. But for whatever sick reason, you wanted to believe you could get him to change again. You wanted to believe you meant more to him, that your history meant more to him. But that's all it was— wishful thinking.

Empty words built on shaky foundation.

So here you are, after he had called you saying he had missed you and wished you were near him. Here you are, crying everything you have left in you after giving him what he wanted. Here you are, after hearing that this wasn't anything to Mingi, that you weren't anything to Mingi. Here you are, broken to pieces, empty, soulless.

Again and again.

"Fucking asshole." You groan to yourself, tears streaming steadily as you head down the street from his building to a random corner. You sit on the sidewalk, kicking aggressively at the rocks beneath your feet. You give one last good grunt out of frustration before you rest your arms on your knees, head hanging low to let all your tears fall freely.

You had been crying so hard that you hadn't realized a car had pulled up in the empty spot near the curb you sat on, car being turned off before someone steps out and shut their door. You suddenly feel a hand on your back and you instantly ease up, knowing exactly who that touch belongs to.

"Hwa." You look at him, watery eyes blood shot red. He can't help but feel sorry for you, you're aware. You can tell by the way his brows soften when he sees how torn up you are, you can tell by the way his lips poke out because he isn't really sure what else he can say at this point. He shouldn't have to say anything anymore. He shouldn't be here—

You shouldn't be here.

"I told you to stay put." He teasingly scolds you, but you continue to look at him with that sad, pathetic look. "Let's get home, hm?" He follows up, free hand coming to wipe your tears away. You nod, allowing Seonghwa to help you up and into the car. He doesn't really say anything when he gets in and buckles his seatbelt, but he glances over at you, watches as you sink in the passenger's seat and look out the window.

He hates it, and he wishes he could do more to take this away from you. To keep you away from Mingi, to take away your pain completely.

It's not the first time Seonghwa's had to come get you. He's almost losing track of how many times you've called him crying because you wanted to leave a party after seeing Mingi flirting around [even though he'd deny it time and time again]. The times you've called because he left you at parties to hang out with other people, other girls. The times Mingi has disrespectfully called you out your name mid-argument, gaslighting you into thinking you were in the wrong.

Seonghwa's only hope is that one day, you'll finally get tired of your ex and move on. Leaving Mingi where he belongs, especially when he couldn't even give you the proper respect. Mingi's only reasoning for breaking up with you was that he couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't do the relationship anymore. He just couldn't, and you knew what he truly meant— it just wasn't you anymore. 

And for months and months, you sat there wondering what you could've done differently, or if there was a sign that you had missed. Every time he called, it had you thinking he must've realized he couldn't do this without you, that he was wrong and that he did want this after all.

Nope.

He made you believe it for a night, yes. Then, he'd go back to reminding you what you actually meant to you— that you were delusional, that you kept forcing things between him. That you knew what this was.

You should've known what this was.

♡ END

"He wasn't even doing anything! Not shit you needed to step in between for! He was literally—"

"Oh my fucking god." Seonghwa groans. "And you're still defending him!" He yells, his brows furrowed when he turns to look at you. He feels like he can barely breathe due to the anger surging through his veins, plus the betrayal he's feeling with the way you're delivering your responses. The way you look at him. The way you're keeping your distance.

After everything, it still seems like you're taking Mingi's side. You always find a way to defend him one way or another, even if you don't realize it.

Seonghwa does, and it hurts.

"I'm not!" Your tone is louder. "I could've taken care of it myself, he wasn't doing anything!" You repeat.

"He was making you uncomfortable, Y/N! All up in your space, trying to force you to do shit when you didn't want it. Yet, you wanna tell me he wasn't doing anything?"

"I'm just saying it wasn't that big of a deal, Hwa! I could've handled it!"

"Really? I doubt that." 

"Wow, are you serious?" You say, hurt. But, he scoffs and continues because you need to hear this. 

"I am. You always let him push you around and walk all over you. I thought by now you'd be smart enough to realize that you're worth much more than that." His tone rises again. "Why do you always let him do this to you? You're so used to the way Mingi treats you and you do nothing to change that. You always let him in. You're so brainwashed and you literally have no respect for yourself, it's fucking sad."

"You know nothing about our relationship." You're crying and angrily wiping away at your tears, unsure of how else to act, what else to say. Sure, you and Seonghwa have gotten into petty fights and arguments. Mostly over dumb shit, but nothing ever this serious. You know he cares, and he means well. But this anger, this seemingly pent up frustration— you aren't entirely sure where it was stemming from. You have never seen him act this way and quite frankly, this part of Seonghwa is very difficult to navigate. 

You've never had to.

"Yeah, because I wasn't the one rescuing you in the middle of the night every time he decided to throw your ass out, right? Because I wasn't the one having to calm you down when you were crying? Because I wasn't the one whose had to pick up the pieces every time he broke your heart to try and chase after somebody else? When he says all those shitty things about you that get to your head? When he'd fucking leave you stranded?" He shakes his head. "I'm sure I know nothing about your relationship." The two of you are staring at each other, both at a loss for words after everything has been laid out on the table. Seonghwa is the first to break, having enough of this bullshit and not wanting to say anything else. Mostly because he still cares about you and your feelings, and it's breaking his heart to see you crying over him this time. "I'm done here. I'm sure San will take you home."

"Whatever, fuck you." You respond before turning on your heel to walk away. As soon as you've created enough distance between you and Seonghwa, you find yourself stopping in your path to sob into your hands. It isn't until a few minutes later that you feel hands on your arms, a familiar touch that belongs to somebody else dear to you—

"Hey, let's get you home." San says, with Wooyoung behind him. You can't see much due to the tears in your eyes, but you can tell it's Hongjoong walking alongside of Seonghwa, making sure he's okay and pushing him along towards the car.

"He'll be okay. Just needs some time to breathe." Wooyoung adds, holding out his arm so that you can slip yourself right underneath while walking to San's car. "You alright?" Wooyoung pouts, wiping some of the straggling tears escaping your bottom lids.

"Mhm." You lie, just to keep the walk quiet and peaceful. And it is for a bit, even as you sit in the backseat of San's car. The only thing filling the space is the music playing through bluetooth— Wooyoung's playlist, actually. San peeks over at you through the rearview mirror, feeling bad for how everything went down. But, he gets it. He gets Seonghwa. You do deserve better. Mingi should never get an ounce of your attention after how he's treated you— esp with Seonghwa being here all along.

"You know he just really cares about you, right?" San breaks the silence. 

"I know." You mumble, head leaning back against the seat while you look out the window. "I've just never seen him act that way."

"It's Mingi." Wooyoung adds. "Can I be honest?" He turns to look at you with doe eyes. "I'm not trying to attack you, I promise. We see both sides." You nod quietly. "It's hard when you have history with someone, and it's hard to undo bad habits you've learned in the relationship. We know Mingi was someone special to you, but he hasn't been good for you for a long time. And there's no changing that man at this point. If it's anybody, Seonghwa knows all of that very well, especially when he's been by your side throughout everything." Wooyoung lets out a small sigh. "I'm certain he's hurt because even after everything he's done to be there, Mingi's actions seem to be dismissible. And his actions get overlooked."

"Woo, I'm not even dismissing Mingi's actions."

"Okay, baby girl. You're not. But, I think Seonghwa would have appreciated if you were there for him tonight instead of getting upset. He just wants to keep you safe."

"His goal has always been to keep you safe." San adds softly, driving towards your place.

"I didn't want Hwa to get hurt, h-he didn't have to do that." You sniffle, leaning your head against the window.

"You know he's not gonna sit back and let that shit happen." Woo adds, also leaning his head back against the headrest— a small headache forming after tonight's events. When you finally get home, San and Wooyoung offer to stay the night to keep you company, but you politely decline. They walk you to the door and give you big hugs, asking you a million times if you're sure about being alone tonight.

And you quietly nod.

Because there's nothing else you'd rather be than alone tonight. You want to be alone in your own space, crying alone in your bed; head against the pillow, tucked underneath your sheets.

You want to be alone.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa is struggling. He isn't sure what to do, hates not having you by his side. He doesn't know what's gonna happen from here on out, what will be left of you two after all this.

From the kiss, to Mingi, to the argument.

It's so fucked up.

Seonghwa hadn't even realized how much of his life was dedicated to you— how much of his life was just you. Even when he tried so hard for it to not be you.

"Fuck!" Seonghwa groans and slams his hand against a brick wall in passing. 

"Aye, come on now." Hongjoong clicks his teeth and pushes him away from the wall, urging him to continue down the car. "Don't hurt yourself."

"I swear to God if I ever see Mingi—"

"You won't. He should know better, and hopefully Y/N does, too." Hwa lets out a hefty sigh as he swings Joong's door open and plops into the passenger's seat. Not much is said between the two, even as Hongjoong drives off to his place. Seonghwa rests his head back and shuts his eyes, equally angry, yet dizzy from the alcohol still running through him. 

"I don't know what to do, Joong. I can't keep doing this just for it to get me nowhere."

"You two really need to fucking talk." Hongjoong does a slight head tilt as he continues to drive to Seonghwa's place. "I don't mean to make this worse, but I saw you two." Seonghwa looks at him before resting his head back against the headrest again. "I didn't come so I could give you guys some space."

"Fuck." Hwa repeats again with a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I don't know where this leaves us."

"Give it a few days or whatever, but you need to figure this out with her." Seonghwa doesn't speak anymore, mainly because he's starting to feel nauseous after the adrenaline, the alcohol. He's doing his best to keep it together. But, on top of that, he has a ton of thoughts swirling in his mind— he doesn't really know how to tackle them or where to even start. In the end, he's afraid of what this will do to your relationship.

You and him.

In the end, he just doesn't know anymore.

This is the longest Seonghwa hasn't talked to you. It's been a little over two weeks— usually, the two of you would break in a few hours, not wanting to be without the other for long.

But this, this was different.

Of course, everything felt awful. You both felt awkward about having to be the first person to break the silence, both remembering that night and how heated it had gotten.

The kiss.

The argument.

Everything about the situation felt like doom, chaos. A whole whirlwind of emotions and feelings overpowering each other, threatening to burst at the seams.

Seonghwa had thought long and hard about this, though. For him, he decided he just needed to step back and give himself a breather. Let him do things for himself, carry on with the mentality that he'd finally put himself first. So, that's what he's been trying to do. It doesn't mean it doesn't suck, though. It does. It's terrible. He's gotten so used to having you by his side, so used to running to you first about anything and everything.

He's had to bite his tongue when he finally nailed that fucking uni pasta recipe he had been experimenting for years. Because he wanted to tell you he did so, wanted to invite you over so you could be the first to taste it;

Oh well.

His heart sinks when the realization hits him again, and he's having to give himself a 'lil pep talk to push through. He can't be the person to say sorry first, he can't be the first to break— not when he didn't do anything wrong. He needs to stop apologizing when he's not in the wrong or when he feels bad. He's given you way too much of that, and this time around, he wasn't going to.

He needs you to be the first to break. Needs you to be the one to say sorry. Needs you to show him you understand and that you would never intentionally hurt him, especially over Song Mingi.

He's still counting the days. Maybe he'll have to keep doing so. Gives him time to himself, some peace. Let's him know how much you'd truly work to salvage your relationship with him.

Your own bestfriend before anything.

Because he knows he'd do anything to keep you by his side. He would. It just sucks that he doesn't know if you would do the same. He can't confidently say the same.

But, you absolutely would.  Days and nights have passed and you could barely sleep, always questioning what Seonghwa was doing and if he was even thinking about you. This was on you, though. You knew it. You just didn't know how to say it to him and it's definitely a learning lesson for you— all in all, you wanna be better and you wanna be better for him. You miss Seonghwa a lot. You truly didn't know what it meant to be missing your other half until now;

Empty, alone.

Cold.

You sigh as you toss the pillow aside and sit up in bed, checking the time on the clock. 

3am.

You couldn't sleep, and you freeze. You freeze because you have no one to call anymore. So you turn, and turn. No longer able to find sleep for the rest of the night.

When the sun finally rises, you force yourself to get up to go for a run and grab a good cup of coffee and breakfast. It was your day off, but you thought you could at least take advantage of being up early; take advantage of soaking in the morning sun.

You were tired of sulking and being in bed. Being cooped up at home when you weren't at work.

You throw on your leggings and matching sports bra, grabbing an oversized zip-up to shield you from the morning cold. Yaya is already working in the kitchen, so you quickly let her know you'll be out for a run— rushing over to your car to avoid any questioning this early in the day. You drive over to a lake near town that has a 4.5 mile trail around its perimeter. Since it's still early, the trail isn't crowded with people; perfect enough for you to get a good 3 mile run in. You hadn't ran in a minute, but 3 miles seemed to be a breeze when there was a lot of pent up frustration and anger you needed to release. Of course, you were beyond tired at the end, but it wasn't anything coffee and a good pastry couldn't fix.

At the cafe, you grab a seat right outside of the entrance to enjoy your breakfast, scrolling through social media per usual. You click into your messages for god knows why, knowing Seonghwa hadn't messaged you.

He hasn't.

Why would he?

You sigh, the sadness now returning. You quickly clean up and toss your trash into the bin inside the restaurant before grabbing your cup of iced coffee and heading home. Once you get home, you throw your clothes into the laundry and take a hot, steamy shower, letting your worries go momentarily.

And then, you nap. Exhaustion finally hitting you from the lack of sleep.

Post-nap, you take time to clean around your suite and hang out with Yaya, watching a few episodes of her current favorite show. You help Yaya with a few things around the house, taking the time to bring her to the grocery store just right before the sun sets. Even though Yaya can tell something is wrong, she doesn't bother you or question you like you'd expect— probably leaving it for Soyeon to do the heavy lifting. You do appreciate that you don't have to dwell on it while spending time with her, though. 

Soyeon, Charli and Junseo had visited the past days, and although Charli was able to make you smile and laugh, Soyeon could also easily tell something was wrong without you having to say anything at all. Your demeanor had changed, you seemed to be snapping quicker than usual. Attitude wasn't so bright and happy. Seonghwa hadn't been around, but the other boys had quickly stopped by just to hang out.

You dimmed it down to a 'little fight between you and Hwa,' but Soyeon knew better than that, and she was hoping she'd be able to get it out of you soon. This wasn't like you, and it wasn't like Seonghwa to not come around for days on end.

This wasn't just a little fight.

"Hey." She calls you when you're settled back in your humble abode, and although you don't mind hearing from your boss-slash-cousin, you could do without any work-related conversations right now.

"What's up? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm leaving the restaurant soon. Yoongi and Junseo are going to close up. It's gotten quiet. Can I stop by? I have some food for you."

"Sure. Where's Chacha?"

"With Junseo's parents."

"Mm." You hum. "Okay."

"Okay, I'll be there in about 30 minutes or so. I'm just gonna wrap a few things up here."

"Sounds good." You hang up the call, a bit relieved that your cousin [not your cousin on boss-mode] is coming over. 

When she arrives, it's about 7:45pm. She quietly knocks before announcing her presence— stepping out of her shoes before joining you on your living room floor in front of the coffee table and TV. For a good part of the conversation, you indulge in some of the chicken she brought over, listening to her update you about the restaurant and some drama on his side of the family. She asks if there's anything new going on with you or the boys, and you simply shrug.

This is definitely her way of poking at you, and you're very close to cracking because who else can you open up to about this?

No one, and at this point, you need to. You need the reassurance.

"Are you sure nothing's up? To be honest, I know something's bothering you, and I know this wasn't just a 'little fight' between you and Hwa." She forms air quotes. That's the moment you do crack, tears welling in your eyes when you revisit that night. You tell Soyeon everything and confide in her, giving her more details about your dinner with San, to dancing with Seonghwa and kissing him, to Mingi and their fight. You tell her it's been about two weeks since you've spoken and you know Seonghwa is waiting for you to make the first move. 

You tell her how you've started to realize your feelings for Seonghwa after everything and how incredibly terrified you are of them.

"I don't know what to do, Soyeon. He probably hates me."

"Just go over there and talk to him, Y/N. What are you waiting for? You know he's waiting for you to take initiative, and you should this time. This is all you." You sigh, bottom lip trembling as you begin to cry. 

"I know."

"You know Seonghwa the best. It's so obvious how much he likes you and adores you after all this time. Why are you so afraid?"

"I know, I know." You sniffle. "I just am, Soyeon. I'm afraid of getting hurt, I'm afraid of Seonghwa realizing this isn't what he expected. I'm afraid of Seonghwa." You cry a bit harder and Soyeon is holding you close, rubbing your back as you lean against her shoulder. "I'm scared of this ruining us completely. What if we do get together and things don't pan out the way we expected? I'm so scared of losing him completely that I just don't know where I lie in all of this despite my feelings for him."

"You can't be afraid about every little thing, Y/N. I know it's scary, and life hasn't been entirely nice to you. But, this is your bestfriend. You can't just sit around and brush it under the rug when you know this is something you two need to discuss. Regardless of what happens, Seonghwa will never let you go. You two have been through so much together, he would never wanna do life without you by his side. Never." She continues to reassure you, giving you the push you need to get yourself together and just face it.

You loved Seonghwa, and it was time you looked beneath the surface.

Soyeon didn't stay too long after the two of you finish eating last night— turning the conversation into something more lighthearted after you cried and thanked her for being there for her. Her reassurance worked so much that you're ready to tackle the morning bright and early, throwing on some clothes to head over to Seonghwa's place. After Soyeon left, you called Wooyoung and asked what time Seonghwa's shift was for tomorrow. He snorted and told you it was 10am and asked what you were up to. You let Wooyoung know about your talk with Soyeon and that you missed him, finally throwing the stupid shit aside to just try and talk to him about that night.

To apologize, to make things right.

To tell him that you love him.

You keep it casual and comfy, throwing on some black and white wide-leg track pants, a crop tank and a baggy grey zip-up hoodie. You throw on your shoes, swiftly grab your keys and crossbody bag, jogging out to your car with a quick 'good morning' yell to Yaya from the side of the house. As you drive over to Seonghwa's apartment, you are equally filled with anxiety, nervousness and adrenaline. You're ready to put this behind you, but you're especially ready to talk to Seonghwa again. See him. Hug him. 

Keep him close, never let him stray far again.

You pull into a guest lot, shutting off your car and wondering if you should've brought over some coffee, breakfast, anything, to make this a bit less awkward.

"Fuck." You mutter to yourself as you shake the thoughts from your head; no time for overthinking while you're running on limited time. You jog up the steps and up to Seonghwa's apartment, hesitating when you get to the front door before you finally bring your knuckles to the surface to give a couple of loud knocks. It takes a second before you hear rustling behind the door, Seonghwa clearing his throat before he swings the door open in a white tank and sweats. Your eyes immediately meet his, but he looks surprised, caught off guard even.

But, caught off guard in a sense that he's been caught doing something he shouldn't be doing.

You don't understand it until you see someone in the back try to slip by unnoticed, but she's wearing Seonghwa's shirt. Your heart immediately sinks to your gut and it makes you feel queasy. It shouldn't, but you hate to say it does.

It's probably Makayla.

It's too fucking late.

"Oh." Is all you say, and Seonghwa feels his heart break to a million pieces when he sees the look on your face. You're trying your hardest not to show how much it hurts you, but he knows you. He knows you well, that's for damn sure.

"Y/N—"

"It's good, I didn't meant to interrupt, I'm sorry— I'll catch you later." You ramble and rush down the steps, hurrying away from the apartment to prevent Seonghwa from seeing the tears streaming down your cheeks. 

This was your fault anyway, who else was there to blame?

"Y/N!" Seonghwa calls out one last time, but you're already running to your car. Very obvious that you're wiping away at your face as you sink into the driver's seat and pull out of the spot without turning back. "Fuck." Seonghwa groans to himself, and Makayla kinda just watches everything unfold right in front of her eyes. He runs a hand through his long, black locks, shutting the door quietly behind him as he turns to her and gives her a sympathetic smile. 

"I'm sorry."

"That was Y/N?"

"Uh, yeah. My bestfriend." He looks at her, and she can already tell. She can already tell that it's you, and there is more to it than that. He loves you, and it's very, very obvious.

"You love her, don't you?" He lets out a breath and shrugs. He doesn't say anything for a bit, rather looks at her with those big doe-eyes before she catches him subtly nodding and diverting his attention to the floor.

"I'm so, so sorry, Makayla. I really am." What the fuck else can he say? He must look so fucked up right now; having taken her out the night before and let her spend the night after fumbling in the sheets. He was curious to see if Makayla would be the door to a new path, something that'll help him move forward. He had hope. After this morning's events, that clearly wasn't going to be the case and he wasn't going to lie about it.

"Don't be." She gives him a small, toothless smile. Because although it does suck, she's been there before and she'd hate for Seonghwa to miss out on the person he truly wants to be with. "You should really talk to her before it's too late."

♡ FLASHBACK | EARLY COLLEGE

You're on Seonghwa's back as he trails behind the group, walking up the path to the view of the city behind campus. Hongjoong, San, Wooyoung and a few other heads had wanted to go on a late night walk— the goal being the view at the end for everyone to just sit and admire. At first, you didn't feel like going with a bunch of obnoxious boys. But, you had been cooped up in your room doing nothing but studying all day. It sounded better knowing Seonghwa would be around and being in the crisp, night air. 

Seonghwa continues to walk up the slightly steep hill before spotting the view just down the street, you jumping off his back as soon as it becomes clear in sight.

"Hwa! Look at it!" You squeal, running to one of the free areas near the fence to get a good picture of the view. "It's so pretty! Look!" 

"Yeah, it is." He catches his breath as he walks over next to you. Trekking that hill is not for the weak.

"Oh my god, look at all those lights. It's so beautiful. I didn't realize how flat the town is." You're mainly thinking out loud, saying it to yourself, but Seonghwa chuckles next to you and quietly nods. "I think I can see our favorite convenient store from here, and our favorite spot to get jajangmyeon."

"How would you know, they're little blobs right now."

"How would you not know, Seonghwa? Are you a fraud? Do you even like those places like you say you do?" He snorts.

"Relax, Nancy Drew. It was just a question."

"I just know." You say so matter-of-fact-ly that Seonghwa smiles to himself while you continue to look out at the view. "The stars are so pretty tonight, weather is so perfect. Ugh. We should do this more often." You continue to go on and Seonghwa just likes listening to you talk. He always has, always will.

Everything about you was his favorite.

"I— what?" You look up and see Seonghwa still staring at you before he lets out a deep chuckle.

"Nothing."

"Pichu, what is it?" He looks at you again, and it's obvious he wants to tell you something but is preventing himself from spilling it out onto the table for whatever reason. You turn towards him and cross your arms, tapping your foot to wait for his response.

"Nothing! I'm just— nothing."

"Park Seonghwa."

"I-I—" He sighs. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm glad you ended up going on the walk with us. I wanted you here."

"Aw, you little sap." You pinch his bicep and he yelps. "Are you sure that's all?" He nods.

"Thank you, Y/N. For everything." He ruffles your hair and you can't help but pout at. "You know? For being a pain in the ass bestfriend."

"I beg to differ, but you're welcome." You chuckle. "Always us, right pichu?" You playfully punch him on the bicep before returning your attention back to the view.

And he'll forever remember this as the first time he tried to confess his feelings for you.

♡ END

♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @yeosangsbbg @jycas @lyracarvahall @huachengsbestie01 @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

[sw-33-ts-stuff]

She Don’t Wanna Marry Me

Part 6

Lorraine walked through the shop looking at dress after dress. She couldn’t decide on the type she wanted and even worse her mind kept drifting back to your words to her a few nights ago.

I love you so much more.

Maybe to some, your love for her was obvious, but to Lorraine, it was you who didn’t know how much she loved you.

The number of times she would stare at her phone your contact waiting for her to hit the call button.

The long nights when she would lay wide awake at the thought of you not by her side.

Yes, Lorraine knew you were in love with her there wasn't a time she couldn’t remember you weren’t.

But there had also never been a time when she wasn’t in love with you.

Maybe it began from the day you punched Brian for making fun of her.

Maybe it was the day her dad walked her down the aisle to you.

Or maybe it was the day she had arrived at her university. Something hilarious had happened in her first class and when she looked over her shoulder to where you usually stood, you were nowhere to be found.

All she knew was every night since RJ’s proposal, it wasn’t him she had seen the rest of her life with.

Mindlessly, she grabbed a dress to try on before stepping back out.

She took three deep breaths before looking herself over in the mirror.

A sharp whistle breaks her from her trance.

“Well look at you.” Her heart skips as her brown eyes immediately meet yours through the mirror. You smile at her softly. She’d always loved the way you looked at her and the smile you wore now was one she always felt like was for her and her only.

“What do ya think?” She asked softly swaying back and forth.

“I think” you step closer. “you’re probably the most beautiful bride to grace this shop.”

Heat flooded her cheeks as the shop owner came clapping excitedly, Bobby and Maxine following closely behind.

“Usually I think it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, but the bond between you two-“

She’s quickly cut off by Maxine.

“They’re not getting married. They’re just friends.” Something in the way Maxine said this made Lorraine glare at the girl as Bobby stared at her friend confused. You look down stepping back a bit and clearing your throat.

The once light air is now tense as Lorraine goes to change. Maxine steps closer to you.

“Hey Zuko, since it look like we’re all done…what do ya say to taking me out on a date?” Bobby’s jaw drops, it was no secret Maxine had been attracted to you since they had arrived but the way she was going about it was unusual.

Even the shop owner could see something between you and Church Mouse, so what was she doing?

“Actually Maxine- “

“Y/N.” As always, your attention shifts to Raine. “Do you mind taking me out for a few errands?” You nod turning to Maxine.

“Sorry Maxine, seems Raine needs some help and I was planning on giving her her wedding gift.” She forces a smile.

“Of course.” She says through clenched teeth.

You go to your bike, Lorraine hurrying after.

Bobby looks at Maxine who smirks at the sight of Lorraine getting on the bike behind you.

“The hell are you doin’?!” Maxine laughs.

“Trying to avoid a shit show of a wedding, that girl doesn’t love RJ and Zuko deserves a chance at least.” Bobby furrows her eyebrows as she looks at her friend.

“You have a plan.”

Maxine nods. “I do.”

Bobby looks at her friend. “Just be careful.”

The former girl gives a soft, genuine smile. “Of course, I’ll be needing your help anyway.”

She’s met with crossed arms and an eyebrow raised in skepticism.

“We’re gonna make sure she don’t wanna marry him.”

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