#this is the first time i’ve managed to get a fic done for an event

[ladytauria]

Pairing: Jason Todd/Jason Todd Rating: E Words: 6,036

After a mission leaves him stranded in an alternate dimension, omega Jason finds himself rooming with a younger, alpha version of himself—one who only recently had his final confrontation with Bruce. The last thing he expects is to get attached. Unfortunately for him, his instincts have other ideas.

this was not the prompt i expected to grab me, but here we are! it was supposed to be like... 2k, especially since i decided to forgo set up. i don't... i don't know what happened, lmao.

i couldn't think of a title that wasn't silly, so i decided to just name it after their scents, lmao.

preview under the cut:

Jason is steps away from the kitchen when he hears it—a whimper, almost inaudible in the darkness. It’s followed by the sharp scent of distress, turning pleasant clove-and-smoke into something burnt and ashy.

His heartstrings twist painfully; feet moving almost without his permission, carrying him into the living room where Jay is curled up into a tight ball on the couch. Like this, he looks so much smaller than 6’1. His face is twisted with pain, brow furrowed, face scrunched in a way that compels Jason forward. He stops short of actually touching him. It’s never a good idea to startle a sleeping vigilante… even, or maybe especially, an injured one.

So instead, Jason kneels just out of arm’s reach and unfurls his scent. Clove-and-honey trickles over the burnt-ash scent, and Jason croons, soft and inviting.

Jay’s nose twitches, head turning. He whimpers again; this time with a questioning lilt.

It’s—odd, feeling so protective over someone wearing his face, especially when that someone is currently living through a period in time he’d rather forget. He’s spent years untangling the mess of feelings in his chest. The anger and hurt; hatred and regret. The self-hatred. He’s finally gotten to a point in his life where he’s… maybe okay. Getting thrust back here, even in an alternate dimension…

He’d expected to go through it all again. To take it out on himself, or the boy sharing his face.

But…

All Jason wants to do is bundle him up in a nest. Wrap him in soft blankets, surround him with pillows, and hold him until he stops smelling so hurt. Until he remembers what it’s like to feel safe and warm in the arms of another.

It’s… Jason’s not really sure what to make of the feelings. But he’s been trying to be more—open. And right now, at least, Jay needs someone. There’s no Roy. No Lian. No Kori. No Biz. No bat-pack. Just him.

He shuffles closer, answering the plaintive whimper with another croon; this one coaxing. Come to me , it says. I’ll take care of you . His scent swells with it; inviting and protective and omega-sweet.

Jay twists. His nose twitches again, this time with an adorable snuffle. He uncurls, just a little. He reaches out, obviously questing, so Jason lets him catch his hand. The alpha squeezes him so tightly he thinks he might bruise.

Jason shuffles closer, almost touching the couch. He makes a soft sound in his throat.

Jay’s eyes snap open, glowing eerie green in the dark. He pushes up on an elbow, eyes darting through the shadows until he lands on Jason’s face. His eyes are glassy. Unshed tears cling to his lashes. Jason’s chest aches again; though this time it feels like there’s something a little more than just sympathy. He ignores it. Instead, he calls softly; invitingly, opening his arms—and finds himself knocked backward, falling on his ass and clutching tightly to a lapful of alpha, neck wet with tears as Jay shakes in his arms.

[sun-snatcher]

Wish. If u give me a Part 2 of your Gambit fic with ❛ we'll just have to make do.  ❜ where they both make it out of the Void together I will kiss u on the mouth rn I PROMISE u. Or a hug. Whichever works. PLS I JUST NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO THEM🙏🏼😫

♧ ⎯ ‘LIMBO LOSERS’ CLUB

summ. The TVA extends an olive branch. Wade’s Universe becomes home. Above all, you’re just thankful you’re not alone in this Multiversal mess. pairing. Void!Gambit x f!Anomaly!reader (established in #WELUCKYFEW) w.count. 1.6k a/n. Shirtless Channing + romantic hand tension. That's it. That's the tweet. ( Continuation of this imagine! )

YOU SURVIVE ALIOTH.

That’s the first surprise.

The second? 

The Time Variance Authority want to help, now. 

( Granted, it’d mostly been Wade who did the gruntwork of sending Elektra and Blade back to their Universes, but he had hit a wall when it came to you and Gambit considering you two were— according to him: “A coked up version of being homeless. Universe-less.” )

So here you are, a stray of the Multiverse, standing on the platform of a mid-century aestheticised monitor room somewhere outside the constraints of time, trying not to double over from the vertiginous aftermath of being thrown through Wade’s weird orange warbling door of space. 

TemPad, he’d called the device. Or… something. You’re half-sure you have a concussion, to be honest.

Alioth had done a number on you. 

Remy’s concerned.

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” Wade says, mask rolled up to his nose. (There’s a spoon and plate of key lime pie in his hands. You’re not even sure where he got it from.) “Where did Gambit come from? How come he just spawned into the MCU’s metaphysical Backrooms?”

“Candidly, he is a unique case.” 

Remy pulls his gaze from you to Hunter B-15.

“You, Mr. LeBeau, are the prime example of a Variant that’s borne from a timeline decaying just as quickly as it was formed. A rare type that fades instantly without unnatural interference, because an Anchor failed to develop.”

One of the CRT screens zip to a retro rubber-hose animated diagram: rapidly branching roots, ominous red flashing, and then an immediate blink into nothing. Talk about dramatic effect.

“Your Universe falls in the rare category of those that never managed to come into fruition; but sometimes— incredibly rarely— remnants just like you manage to slip through, and instead of ceasing to exist… Well, you automatically end up getting spit into the Void.”

A pause.

Then, from behind, Wade bursts into a cackle.

“Ha! Wow, she basically called you a discontinued fucking nobody,” he wheezes. “You’re quite literally the equivalent of a failed movie pitch that’s been forgotten on the floor of Feige’s writers’ room.”

Screens flicker. 

Your breath hitches. 

Versions of different Gambit’s play out in the monitor-wall, all alike and yet different in their individual realities. Some have black eyes. Some have top-hats (“Ah, that’s 2009 Origins,” Wade muses. “Do all Variants of you just have a beautiful face? I mean, it’s kinda unfair—”). 

Some look like identical copies.

[EARTH-TRN2922].

It’s… your timeline. 

Your friends in the Mutant war. Your Remy whose cards are scattered on the floor, blood in his hands, with you crumbling as you reach ou—

The Nine of Hearts in your pocket is impossibly heavy. You turn away to steel yourself. 

( “Yeah, okay, enough lore recap. Jesus, you guys are more of a dick than I am; Read the room and turn that shit off,” Wade chides a passing agent. He gets it. He’d lost Vanessa once, too, and he’s not quite sure even he can relive that pain. )

“Mais non, y’not makin’ no sense t’me,” Remy says, confused, “I’ve got memories; means I’ve got history jus’ like my Variants. How y’gon’ explain that?”

“Gaps of memories you have— knowledge of places, people, events— that comes from fixed synchronicities shared in your Temporal Aura across all your Multiversal Variants.” 

She’s met with slow, owlish blinks. Wade waves his hand in lazy dismissal.

“Forgive them. They didn’t watch Loki Season One or Two. Not that it matters, anyway. People barely understood what was going on.”

A sigh. “There’s no way to put this gently, Mr LeBeau,” B-15 concludes, tone dipping into something sympathetic. “But what I’m trying to say is that: you don’t have a Universe to go back to, because it never existed.”

She purses her lips as she catches his torn gaze. “I’m sorry.”

And that— That pisses you off.

“I’m… sorry?” you parrot, stepping forward. “That’s all you can say after everything that’s happened to us? His existence began with the Void, and my Universe was pruned by your agents. Innocent lives gone because your people decided they wanted to play God once upon a damn time—!” 

“Pump the hate breaks, you stray,” Wade calls. "Why'd you think I brought the both of you here?"

You reluctantly withdraw.

“I can’t bring you home,” B-15 supplies, matter-of-fact. “But I can find a compatible timeline for you. For both of you. A safe do-over, if you will.”

Wade’s smile is coy.

The ‘Merc with a mouth’ has a home surprisingly… cozy.

Albeit a little tumbledown and messy with its wallpaper-torn brick walls and creaking hardwood floors— but, it’s charming. Lived in. He has a life here in this rickety two-bedroom apartment; framed photographs of friends and snatches of livelihood sit across dressers and are pasted against his magnet-crowded refrigerator.

Reminds you abit of your home, too.

“Listen,” chirps Wade’s voice, somewhere down the short hall to his room. “My advice? Save yourself the identity crisis and brain aneurysm. All this multiversal horse-crap was created just so that Marvel can write themselves out of any corner. Just sit there and be sexy for the readers, okay, Magic Mike?”

You’re halfway towards them when the doorbell rings. 

“Ooh! That must be the pizza I ordered. Or Blind Al. Or Logan.” Wade pops out to sidle past you with a wink and a whispered: “Who knows, really? This is just the part of the story where I conveniently disappear so you and Cajun Tatum here can share a moment.”

You don’t quite understand— but you’ve learned to not bother attempting when it comes to him.

Your knock is soft against the doorframe. 

“Hey.”

Beside a lone corner of the bed, Remy turns to look over his shoulder. 

He’s fresh out the shower— faded towel tied around his waist, brown hair still damp and dripping water down his bare chest. His old clothes have been draped over a desk chair. 

You try not to stare, but—

But. 

He’s handsome. Devilishly so, with the bruises sweeping across the flex of all his stupidly lean, corded muscles.

You always had a thing for roguish-looking men.

“Hi,” he says, knowingly. ( It’s a dulcet croon, if anything. Cheeky bastard. ) “Y’okay? Got y’self cleaned up.”

Remy watches you gather yourself with a quick clear of your throat, pull at the sleeves of the scratchy hoodie you’re now wearing that’s practically swallowing you whole. 

You look rested. At ease. 

…Pretty.

“Yeah. Showered. We don’t smell like ass anymore, that’s for sure,” you say, making a face.

And then you’re nodding over to the black-and-blue contusions blooming over his skin. “You know, I’m sure there’s something frozen in the icebox for that.”

“Icebox?” 

You smile. “Yeah, that’s what you guys call it in Louisiana, right?”

“That we do, chèr,” he laughs. But it’s ducked down, quiet. Thin. “ ‘Least, I think so.”

You follow his downcast eyes to a small stack of folders— TVA files he easily thieved (unsurprisingly) from under their noses the moment he stepped foot into the room. 

He’d skimmed the manila dossiers: Absolute Points. Anchor Beings. Variant Anomalies. Some names he’d recognised and some he didn’t, most stamped or blacklisted. 

Pietro Maximoff. Edward Brock. Loki Laufeyson. 

Remy LeBeau.

Some part of you crumples. It’s one thing to not be able to return to a Universe, and another to not have even had one. 

“S’funny,” he chuckles dryly, picking his casefile up with a distant look, “My memories… I thought I’d done gon’ left a whole life behind me the entire time I been stuck in the Void— Friends. Family. An’ turns out the Void’s all I had.”

“Feels like…” he shrugs. Tries to piece his unmoored thoughts into something more cohesive. He’s never felt so horrifically adrift his entire life— whatever ‘entire life’ could mean for him now, anyway— not even when he'd been marooned in the barren wastelands of the Void.

 “Feels like I ain’t real. Hell, I don’t know what is real, anymore, chèr. I don’t— I just don’t know. I don't know anythin'."

You shake your head in disagreement nigh instantly. 

“No, no.” Pushing off the doorway, you cross the threshold with gentle admonishment lanced over your features. “You’re here. You are real.” 

The room is small. The distance you share is… close. Just enough that you catch the scent of peppermint toothpaste and coconut shampoo; Just enough that you can slide the documents out of his hands.

His fingers brush against yours. 

He wonders if you’d felt the kinetic trill of energy run through him at the contact.

“Can I be honest, Remy?”

You look up at him. 

“Mais oui, chèr. Y’can always be honest wit’ Gambit.”

You wave your hand at the TVA files. “I’m scared as shit being in a new Universe,” you blurt, truthfully. “This second chance means… a new life. New path. New everything. I don’t know what that’s like either and frankly, I am not prepared for this at all.”

You pause for a breath. “But for what it’s worth? I’m glad that you’re here. That’s… That’s about the only thing that I know.”

Then, as if dwarfed by the sheer vulnerability in your words, you take an awkward step back as you shrug. “And if you don’t feel the same, well. You and I, we’ll just have to make do, regardless.”

The sudden retreat is painfully endearing. Has him letting out a bright laugh that warms something nestled deep in your ribs.

“I’m glad I got you too, chèr,” he grins. 

“Yeah?” You flash a smile, having found your way back to the door.

Remy’s eyes fall to your face— tarrying. He follows the flutter of your lashes, the slope of your cheek, the curl of your lips. 

“…Yeah.”

Your idling, fond gaze sears him like a low-grade fever. 

The thrum buzzes in hands, again.

Your Gambit really was blind, he thinks, just as you slip away and disappear around the corner.

His palm flexes open, and shut.

[peachdues]

GASOLINE ON FIRE

COMPASS ONE-SHOT • bad boy!Sanemi x Reader

A/N: a one-shot from my bad boy!Sanemi gang AU fic, Compass featuring Sanemi and Reader’s first kiss. It technically happened off-page in the first Chapter, so I thought I’d share it with you all now because I’m such a sap for these two.

CW: 1.7k • MDNI • mentions of explicit sexual content • mentions of masturbation • Sanemi’s been thinking about Reader in fun ways • first kiss • fluff/light angst

READ COMPASS HERE

You’re both seated on your floor, pizza box sitting in front of you, half-empty, alongside a couple of empty, discarded beer bottles.

“I’ve never had sex,” you blurt, prompting Sanemi to choke on his gulp of beer.

“What?”

You pause in bringing your own bottle to your lips to glare at him. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”

“I’m not,” Sanemi wipes his lips. “Who gives a shit about that — I mean, where did that come from?”

You take a long, pointed sip of your beer before setting it back down, drawing your knees up to your chest. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “Isn’t it weird that I haven’t? We’re both twenty-one — but I’ve never even had a serious relationship, much less had sex.”

That surprises him. He’d thought about your days in school more than he’d be willing to admit ever since he chose your bookstore to hide in all those months ago. He’s devoted countless hours to wracking his brain, trying to recall every minute detail about you, in a concerted effort to figure out why the fuck he didn’t approach you sooner.

But he’d found that he couldn’t quite recall, and maybe that’s because he never had an excuse.

Still, you seem like you should have had at least the opportunity for love. After all, Sanemi can’t imagine someone worthier of it.

You’re staring at him, now, expectant, and Sanemi distracts himself by reaching for his own beer bottle to inspect it. “’S not weird,” he says after a moment. “You’re young. You’ve barely been out in the world.”

“But you‘ve done it,” you push, taking another swig of your drink.

Sanemi nods with a chuckle, setting his now-empty bottle down. “Yeah, yeah I have.”

You refuse to meet his eyes as you mumble, “And you like doing it.”

“Is that what the rumors say?” He asks drily, concealing his faint grimace by reaching for another beer.

“I don’t care about the rumors. I’m trying to make a point, here,” you scowl, finally lifting your gaze back to him. “I want to do it. I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”

He glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Noted.”

“I want you to fix it.”

His hand halts midair before it can reach the last unopened bottle, and he turns to stare dumbly at you.

You must be joking — or you’re drunk. In either event, there’s no fucking way you’re serious.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it — extensively, for that matter. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it just as badly as you seem to — arguably, even more so, given that he can’t stop thinking about it.

He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that he thinks of you that way often — so much so that he hasn’t been able to get laid in at least two months, because he couldn’t stop picturing you when he was with his designated fling of the evening.

Hell, he’d only been able to get off that last time because he stopped fighting the images in his head. Ones that involved that flirty sundress you loved wearing pulled down to expose your breasts, bouncing as you rode him, or the blush on your cheeks he imagined would form when he settled between your thighs, mouth lowering to steal a taste of what he could only assume was paradise.

Since then, the only thing Sanemi has been fucking is his own hand. And damn, if those little images of you didn’t keep sneaking into his subconscious. And though he always managed to cum fast and hard whenever those fantasies bled into his mind, Sanemi also was left to feel nothing but shame afterward as he wiped his hand and abdomen clean, guilt hanging heavily over his head for thinking of you in such a way.

For daring to think you might want him at all.

But now, here you were, looking at him with all the hopeful expectancy in the world. As though he has anything worth offering you.

Sure, Sanemi knew you were likely asking him to do it for practicality’s sake. You were a virgin and you wanted not to be anymore. And he was there, your only friend, and he was someone known for being rather unrestrained when it came to matters of the bedroom (or, anywhere that offered semi-privacy, for that matter).

He was a convenience; nothing more.

Did that stop him from considering it? Of course not. He was yours to use as much as you wanted, as far as he was concerned. But he’d assumed his usefulness stopped at being an ear to listen to; a companion — not because of anything you did, but because Sanemi had never felt like he held much value outside of what he could do for others.

And really, being used for this purpose — by you, no less — wasn’t too bad of an idea, all things considered.

But he can’t; he won’t. Part of him wants you to save that piece of yourself for someone who deserves it; deserves you. And that sure as shit isn’t him.

Part of him is also acutely aware that you’re tipsy and thus, the boundaries of your consent are blurry, and Sanemi would rather eat and shit glass than dilute them further.

But another part of him hesitates because he knows that if he does give in — gives you what you both want — that he’ll only further distort what remains of the lines he’s drawn in the sand. Lines, he sternly reminds himself, that are not just his means of protecting you, but rules that he is bound to obey as an extension of the Corps.

Don’t get attached.

And yet, he can’t help but wonder; can’t stop his traitorous heart from swelling, or his mind from running with the faint possibility of what life might be like if he just said yes.

What would it be like to be close to you? To hold you, kiss you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear he’d never told anyone else, but had secretly always longed to share? Would you moan or sigh his name? And if he was graced with the chance to see you fall apart — how would you look? Would you cry out, or would your mouth fall open in a silent o, your pleasure so intense that it stole the very breath from your lungs?

Never mind wanting and being wanted in return — what would it be like to have?

You rest your chin on your arms, eyes fixed on him, waiting, and Sanemi feels himself nearly break right there.

It’s nearly impossible to turn you down in a way that won’t hurt your feelings, but he has to. He has no choice.

He never has.

“Sorry, Princess. Don’t think that’s the best idea.” He reaches over to flick your nose before adding, “Plus, you’re a bit too tipsy.”

He hopes that his disappointment isn’t too evident on his face as he watches you; hopes that you cannot see the way his heart cracks under his own self restraint.

Thankfully, you drop your head onto your arms with a groan, concealing your face in your alcohol-tinged shame.

To his dismay, your obvious letdown punches at that soft part of his heart he’s reserved for you. His mouth goes dry. The idea blooms in his head and he’s acting before he can stop himself.

Just a taste. He swears. Just a taste. A little indulgence, so you know his reticence has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that he isn’t worth it.

“Hey.”

You roll your head to the side to peer shyly at him, a pretty blush still staining your cheeks.

“Come here.”

You lift your head from your arms then, cocking it in a question that Sanemi decides to answer by crooking his fingers under your chin and leaning in.

The kiss he shares with you is soft; measured. Your lips feel like silk against his, and it strikes him that never before has he kissed anyone with so much tenderness. The few kisses he exchanged with his flavors of the night were always sharp, bruising clashes of lips and teeth, each party more focused on sating their own needs rather than tending to that of the other.

Then again, Sanemi never felt this way toward those serving as his temporary distractions. He never thought of them as something precious; something to be adored, the way he does you.

You don’t move your arms from where they’re folded atop your knees, and for that, Sanemi is grateful. He knows that were you to move your hands to cup his face or even tangle in his hair, he would lose whatever thread of self control he possessed when it came to you.

So, Sanemi continues to kiss you slowly; indulgently. He never lets himself deepen it, never lets his tongue flick out along the seam of your lips in an effort to part them. He simply moves his lips with yours for a moment longer before he finally pulls away, though his fingers linger under your chin.

Only centimeters separate your mouth from his, and Sanemi can feel the sweet warmth of your breath as he whispers, “We should pick out a movie.”

You nod after a moment, still too stooped in the haze of his closeness to you. Reluctantly, Sanemi shifts away, his hand dropping from your chin. You don’t see how he flexes it over and over when you turn away to fidget with your remote, Sanemi unable to shake off the memory of your skin under his fingertips.

He watches the movie without really seeing it; his mind is far too preoccupied with replaying your kiss, over and over on a constant, never-ending loop.

He’d hoped that the small kiss would smother some of the fire that has been steadily consuming him over the last few months. A temporary respite to the near constant pang of longing he felt in his chest every time he looked at you.

What a stupid fucking idea that had been.

Because, as Sanemi sits beside you, limbs rigid under the incessant buzz thrumming in his veins, urging him to reach over and lay you back against the rug and make you his, he realizes your kiss was only a gallon of gasoline dumped directly over his fire.

And, judging by the way you keep your eyes fixed resolutely on the screen before you despite the persistent heat in your cheeks, Sanemi thinks you might be just as hungry for him as he is for you.

Oh, he’s fucked.

likes/reblogs/comments always appreciated!

[moonlight-prose]

KISS ME ONCE

a/n: i am so late with even starting this and i don't expect to finish, but i still wanted to contribute something. so this is the first fic for the moon knight bingo hosted by @moonknight-events. some of the prompts really captured my attention and i wanted to write what i could for them. i based this off yes the long long, long time, but some other jazz songs were played as i wrote. and honestly i'm obsessed with how it turned out. the divider is by the ever talented @saradika-graphics.

prompt used: butterflies

summary: dating steven grant came with its challenges. between being a superhero, sharing the body with a man you hardly knew, and his forgetfulness, you felt dizzy. so when your date goes awry, you take matters into your own hands.

word count: 1.7k+

pairing: marc spector x reader

warnings: not explicit, some soft fluff, romance, the blossoming of a relationship, flustered marc.

Candlelight flooded the darkened flat, flickering a soft orange glow along the walls and stacks of books. It would be romantic if the frustrated bangs of a man trying to fix it wasn’t the only sound that echoed back to you. The evening had started out as a date. An attempt between you and Steven to rejoin together after weeks apart. But life continually managed to get in the way.

Problems arose one after the other. But nevertheless this is where you found yourselves. Sitting at the small table, candles scattered throughout the space, and the soft sound of jazz coming from the record player in the corner. And just as he poured you a glass of red wine—the power went out.

“It’s alright. Really.”

“I’ve almost got it.” A very American voice called back to you.

Steven—the man you adored—had no clue what the fuck to do in a situation such as a this. The radiator should have been easy enough to turn back on, but by the sounds it seemed that there was nothing but difficulty. Which is how Marc—the man you barely spoke to—wound up crashing your date.

It’s not that you didn’t want to speak to him. Get to know him. You just rarely found yourself with the chance. Between him and Steven being whisked away consistently, you barely had time to speak to Steven. Yet there you were, in your best outfit, candlelight illuminating the flat, and wine poured into two separate glasses. And Marc was acting as if you weren’t there.

He was helping. You knew that, but there was nothing that could be done. At least not right now.

“Are you hungry?”

The question must have thrown him off guard; his head peeking out from the bottom of the radiator. His eyes quickly caught sight of you standing there—hope shimmering in your eyes. A look that was usually only reserved for Steven. A look he’d longed to see directed at him one day. But Marc—ever the stubborn man Steven made him out to be—looked away as fast as he started.

“No I’m alright honey.” His eyes flicked back to you briefly before settling on the mirror. A quick sigh, the tensing of his shoulders, and you knew enough.

He wanted this.

You couldn’t deny the endearment didn’t have an effect on you. In fact, it was quite surprising how your entire stomach erupted into a flurry of butterflies. They normally only arose when Steven was near. How he smiled so bright it nearly killed you, how his entire heart was worn like an accessory on his sleeve. He looked at you in awe. As if you were the very light of his life, but Marc faced you with hesitancy. With reluctance and the darkened shine of anguish in his brown eyes.

What he wanted, he could never have.

That’s what he believed. Or at least that’s what you came to understand in the short time you’d known about him. That he gave everything—all he could spare—to Steven. He sacrificed a normal life to the man who already had it; to the person he could never be.

It broke your heart in a way.

Why would he believe he could never have you too? That his life wouldn’t be intertwined with yours. Like it or not you chose Steven, and whether he knew it or not…you also chose Marc. Even if he wouldn’t allow himself to be chosen.

“We ordered dinner. Thankfully. I love Steven, but I don’t trust him in a kitchen.” Smiling, you moved to grab the container you had yet to take the food out of.

Marc flinched at the word love falling so freely from your mouth. He acted as if he’d never heard the word before. And maybe he hadn’t. Maybe someone never looked at him the way Steven looked at you. Although something told you that tonight might in fact change that. You never saw yourself falling for Steven—for anyone really—but Marc was a welcomed surprise.

“I don’t want to take Steven’s food.”

You shrugged. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind—”

“You don’t know Steven honey.”

There was that fucking word again. A rush of flutters overtook your stomach, your heart racing with the glint of annoyance in his eyes as he stared at the mirror behind you. You could practically see Steven trying to reason with him. Trying to keep Marc from ruining this night. If only the both of them could see in your mind—how you longed to get closer to Marc, to see if you could make him feel the same as you did now.

So you did.

He looked startled, stepping back a bit with his hand outstretched. The sight brought a smile to your lips.

“I want to have dinner with you Marc.”

“You’re on a date with Steven.” He sighed, eyebrows pulling together. Strange how it was so different to Steven’s frustration, so unlike the soft man you knew. “Lemme fix the radiator and you can have him back,” he muttered.

“Marc—”

“Just need a tool. Which is somewhere around here.”

“Wait—”

“And I’ll be—”

With a quick lunge, you grabbed hold of Marc’s (Steven’s) button down, pulling him close enough to feel his breath on your chin. He froze, hands hovering over your waist as you kept him there and fixed him with a look that made his heart thump loudly against his chest. That glimmer—the want—was suddenly on him. And he felt as if the breath would fly out of his lungs if he tried to make a move. He was afraid he’d scare you off.

“Eat with me.” You smiled sweet and honey like he could practically taste it on his tongue. “Don’t make me tie you to the chair just to join me.”

He huffed, his throat bobbing as he swallowed roughly. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Then you’ll stay?”

He nodded. “I’ll stay.”

“The food’s cold.” You sighed, twisting in his hold to catch a glimpse of the darkened street. “And it looks like the whole street is down.”

You never saw how his eyes lingered on your lips, how he drank you in with ease. His own tongue swiping along his bottom lip quickly, chest stuttering as he sucked in a breath. If there’s one thing Marc knew it was this—you were the most beautiful person he’d seen. He wasn’t sure how Steven found you, but suddenly he found himself thanking every god he knew of that he did.

Perhaps that’s why he relinquished control so often. Solely to keep you around. Marc ruined things. He knew this. He understood that whatever he touched came away broken, but Steven…he fixed things. He brought light to the darkness and made sure it burned bright—he saved what Marc destroyed. And Marc couldn’t destroy you.

He’d die before he broke the one thing that made everything good.

“I have an idea,” you said, joy lighting up the room.

“Hm?”

You smiled, digging into your purse for your phone, the small screen lighting up your face. It was harsh to look at after nothing but candlelight for an hour, but you managed. At least long enough to find a good playlist, a jazz one Steven made for you in the first week of dating. Songs you’d danced to time and time again. It sounded echoey and small in the flat, but you played it regardless, setting the phone on the table as you reached for Marc.

“Dance with me?”

He stuttered this time. “W-What?”

“Dance with me.”

“Baby I’m not much of a dancer…”

Sighing, you pulled him close, your hand sliding into his. “That’s okay.” You felt him shudder slightly at the way your hand slid on his shoulder, your body pressed against his. “I’m not either.”

Marc knew that was a lie. He’d caught glimpses of moments between you and Steven. The soft love you both shared. It made him ache in ways he couldn’t describe with words, and maybe this was going too far. Maybe Steven would be pissed when he finally came back, but Marc refused to feel sorry for this. He wouldn’t apologize for loving you. Because there was nothing to apologize for—not when you felt so right in his arms.

He managed to sway gently with you, his feet shuffling—albeit a bit clumsily—along the hardwood floor. You didn’t notice. At least if you did, you never said anything. The music hummed a soft tune behind you, the yellow glow of the candles casting shadows across your supple skin. And Marc felt the ground vanish from beneath him.

How could someone be as perfect as you?

“I’m thinking we should go to the Italian restaurant on Friday.”

Flutters overtook his entire body. “Friday sounds good.”

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder gently. As if you were entirely at ease, planning dates with him like this had happened before. Marc did what he could to be the same. This was normal. This life, this flat, this…relationship. It belonged to him in a way; he just hadn’t seen it.

“We can go walking afterwards,” you said, your words soft—your breath washing across his neck and causing goosebumps to form. “See the moon.”

He smiled. “I see too much of the moon.”

“Then we go during the day.” Marc wrapped his arm tighter around your waist, daring to rest his hand a bit lower. You shivered at the touch. “See the sun instead.”

Marc realized then why Steven loved you, why he fought to keep you in his life. You gave all of yourself in a way he might never be able to. You jumped in wholeheartedly, with a smile on your face. Consequences be damned. And like the lights finally came back on in the apartment, he realized why he loved you. Steven—the man meant to protect him for his entire life—was an exact reflection of you.

You wore your heart on your sleeve just as he did.

You loved fiercely, hoped endlessly, and gave your entire soul to the one you chose.

Whether he liked it or not…you chose him too. Even if he couldn’t give over all of himself. Yet.

“Okay,” he murmured, resting his head gently against yours. “We’ll see the sun.”

[melancholy-of-nadia]

love u lately (m) #10 | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately​ chapter title: #10 - honey pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: you decide, after the strangest and most chaotic night, that it is time to come home. but how will you manage to settle all these matters with your fellow housemates and loves of your life? Easy. Through a powerpoint presentation and some deep convos. warnings:  implied sex, texts from WHO, scolding, frat intervention, A LOT OF FLUFF, comedy, the bonobos, other fic ref, AND MORE CONFESSIONS, DEEP TALKS, more rom-com fluff, WE'RE REACHING THE RESOLUTION ARC note: @daegudrama has been busy with her sushi chef arc but please send her love because she still edited this despite being busy. apologies if there are some error, i will fix them more once the fic ends. total word count: 7.8k drop date:  May 24th, 2024, 5PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #9 | Series Masterlist | #11

March 2nd [Saturday]

It’s as if once all these confessions about love come to light, and things begin to slowly change. As you awaken to the gentle light filtering through the curtains, you find Namjoon lying beside you, his features illuminated by the morning sun. The sight of him, peaceful in slumber, warms your heart as you reach for your phone on the bedside table, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind.

You click on the screen to see the home screen.

"Huh? I got texts from a number I don’t know last night," you murmur aloud, prompting Namjoon to stir beside you, his morning voice heavy with sleep yet undeniably alluring.

“What does it say?” He inquires, his morning voice groggy, but deeper than usual. It’s kind of hot. Fuck.

“Uh,” You unlock the phone to read the first message, “Wait, it’s from Jihyo? How did she even get my number…” Your voice trails off as you read the message. Namjoon’s eyes widen a bit.

Unknown [12:34AM]: Hi? Is this Y/N? Unknown [12:34AM]: It’s Jihyo. Unknown [12:35AM]: I know this is so random since we never talked, but I just wanted to reach out and tell you about Namjoon. If he hasn’t told you yet, he likes you.

"That’s very… blunt," you remark, passing the phone to him. He swiftly reads all the messages with a furrowed brow, his hand coming up to rub his face, frustrated.

"What?" you prompt, sensing his unease as he hands the phone back to you.

"Shit…" he mutters, his gaze fixed on the screen as you continue reading.

Unknown [12:37AM]: I’ve been debating to even bother telling you this, but I went to a GOT party with Namjoon back in October.

The party where the universe shifted for you and all of this started. The same party where you saw Namjoon and Jihyo kissing, which tore at your heart and made your soul rage. What more about that night did you not know as you and Yoongi were locked in the confines of the Gamma bathroom and later on in your bedroom.

Unknown [12:39AM]: Namjoon had pregamed with a couple of guys before we decided to drop by the Gamma house and by the time we got here, he was slowly losing it. At some point, he started blabbering about you and how he didn’t like you crushing on JB and complaining about his frustrations. Unknown [12:40AM]: I was getting annoying but I played along and asked him if he liked you. I didn’t think much of it but then he said “yeah…but i can’t”. ???? I was so done at this point! I was about to leave the party, but Namjoon kept sweet-talking me and then he kissed me and I kissed him back…

“Namjoon…” You pause, your gaze flickering up to Namjoon with a mix of disbelief and confusion. His gaze meets yours, and he offers no explanation, simply urging you to continue reading.

“Keep reading.” He says. You do.

Unknown [12:41 AM]: We came back to my place and I was still upset. I didn’t know what to do with him. He clearly wasn’t as into me as I thought, so I called Hoseok and he came to his side. I went to bed, and I told Chaeyeong to let them stay in the living room even though she was close to kicking his ass. And they left the next morning and I broke up with him not long after.

"You’re so!? Agh!" you exclaim, your voice muffled by your palm as you struggle to find the right words. Yes, you’re glad that he’s finally confessed his feelings to you, but to make other girls suffer because of his indecisiveness!? Maybe you shouldn’t talk.

"Let’s just say you and I are both indecisive. That makes us soulmates, doesn’t it?" Namjoon offers, his lips curling into a teasing smile as he leans in to kiss your forehead.

You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to lighten the mood, though the weight of the situation still hangs heavily in the air.

"I’ll text Jihyo and thank her for confirming how crazy you are sometimes," you quip, eliciting a playful eye roll from Namjoon.

After you and Namjoon fucked each other the whole night, you both talked in the morning about the confession, the fight, and coming back to the house. If the events from last night hadn’t happened, you firmly believe you would be more hesitant to return. But now that you’ve had more time to think and talk with him about it, you decide that it’s time to go back and settle things with Yoongi and Jimin. Namjoon helps you pack up your stuff in your luggage and you both return to the frat house.

You leave Hwasa a note saying you decided to come home to the boys, and apologize if the room smells like sex (you blame Namjoon). You open the windows to air it out though! But you know for sure she is going to spam your phone with questions later when she gets back.

+++++++++++

“I’m back…” You announce, quite awkwardly as you await a bombardment of concerns.

"What the fuck happened last night?" Yoongi stares down at you and Namjoon as he fully opens the front door. You didn’t expect him to open the door. When you peek inside, you see the three men who invited you out to a party last night sitting on the couch, looking a bit anxious and annoyed. Maybe even hungover. Are you guys about to enter a frat house intervention…?

"Yeah, about that…" Namjoon begins, his voice trailing off as he runs a hand through his tousled hair, clearly feeling the weight of the situation.

Jin's presence behind him prompts Namjoon to glance in his direction, seeking some form of support or guidance. However, Jin's response is swift and deflective. "Don't look at me! He immediately knew something was off," he declares, his tone a blend of amusement and exasperation. “So I had to tell him where you guys were at. Don’t kill me!”

Typical Yoongi. He’s similar to Namjoon in noticing things are off, but he’s much more active in doing something about it.

Despite the tension in the air, Jin's response manages to elicit a small chuckle from the others, breaking the ice just enough to ease the palpable discomfort in the room.

Yoongi's expression shifts to frustration, his gaze flickering between you and Namjoon. "They’re refusing to speak, so you better tell me what went down," he demands, folding his arms across his chest expectantly.

Namjoon takes a deep breath, his shoulders tense with the weight of the impending confession. "Okay, well…" he begins, casting a sideways glance at you for support before launching into the story time of the previous night's events.

As Namjoon recounts the sequence of events, from the impromptu party invite from Hoseok, Jungkook and Taehyung to the unexpected reunion with Yeonjun, you can't help but feel a sense of unease settle in the pit of your stomach. Then he explains that he fought Yeonjun to protect you and then took you back to Hwasa’s dorm where you were staying. He doesn’t mention that you guys did it last night though.

Yoongi listens intently, his expression morphing from frustration to concern as the full extent of the situation becomes clear. "Holy fuck," he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his slowly growing hair in disbelief. "That's… damn…."

Yoongi turns to you and grabs your shoulders gently “A-Are you okay though?” Yoongi asks, stuttering a bit. The action catches you a bit off guard since you haven’t talked to Yoongi in the last two weeks, let alone be touched by him.

“I’m okay.” You respond simply, with a small smile. This eases Yoongi’s mind and relaxes him because he was concerned you would act cold towards him still.

Jin nods in understanding, his expression reflecting a mixture of sympathy and exasperation. "As long as you’re okay. What's done is done," he remarks pragmatically. “Boys, you’re off the hook now.”

Jungkook, Taehyung and Hoseok sigh in relief now that they’re free from the intervention they were stuck in.

“What about Honey and…her… situation?” Taehyung asks, hesitating to explicitly mention the situation as he is aware Namjoon doesn’t know. “I mean, she came back, didn’t she?” All eyes turn to you.

Namjoon sighs, realizing everyone’s trying to walk on eggshells and not address the elephant in the room. “I knew about it, Taehyung,” he starts, causing everyone to gasp, as they expected a wildly different response from him about the threeway situationship. “Well, I had a suspicion, but I talked about it with Tiny last night.”

“That makes things easier to talk about then.”

The sound of a new voice in the conversation and footsteps descending the stairs draws everyone's attention. It’s Jimin, who has been overhearing the conversation from upstairs. Was it since you got there? You’re not sure. He’s rubbing his eyes when he spots you at the door. His eyes widen, and you can see a sense of relief in his expression upon seeing you again after some time.

“Y/N…” Jimin’s tone is soft, almost sounding like he could break into tears at seeing you. Perhaps there's a sense of regret for lashing out at you two weeks ago. He was frustrated that you couldn’t make a decision, but he hated that the alcohol that day only made those thoughts worse.

You're glad to see him too. With his presence, it's easier for you to respond to Taehyung’s question and also genuinely apologize for the things that have been going down.

“I’m so sorry about everything that’s been happening, but I’m going to settle this with you guys. Thanks to Namjoon who gave me an idea,” you say, looking toward everyone. “Would you all be able to regroup here in the evening while I get things ready?”

All the Beta Tau Sigma boys look at you, a little confused but intrigued to hear what you have planned.

They have no idea what you're about to cook up.

+++++++++++

“I have gathered you all here today for this important presentation.”

Just as you asked, everyone regrouped in the evening downstairs.

“And to reiterate once again, I am sorry for the all chaos.”

“You’re forgiven,” Jin says as he takes a seat, making all the guys nod in agreement. That is relieving to hear, you guess.

You screen mirror your computer screen to the Living Room TV screen. Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin sit on the couch watching you sway back and forth nervously next to the screen. Jin, Taehyung, Jungkook and Hoseok sit at the dining table, watching you from a distance.

“The Bonobos and… Us?” Jimin reads the presentation's title slide, squinting at the image of a primate below it. “Is that a monkey?”

“It’s an ape!” you correct him, a hint of exasperation in your voice.

“Okay, well, sorry,” Jimin replies with a shrug, indicating you to continue. “Go on.”

“Thank you,” Taking a deep breath, you navigate to the next slide, which displays bulleted points. "So, society has normalized relationships to be between two people," you begin.

"This is called monogamy, and it’s been the gold standard in our society for centuries," you continue, pacing back and forth in front of your audience. "From fairy tales to Hollywood movies, we're bombarded with images and narratives that glorify the idea of finding 'the one' and living happily ever after."

"But how often is life like Hollywood? The truth is, monogamy isn't one-size-fits-all," you explain. "Yet, it's portrayed as the only legitimate option for love and partnership. We're taught to believe that if we're not in a monogamous relationship, there's something wrong with us."

“How do the mon— I mean, apes, relate to all of this?” Yoongi asks.

“Oh! I’m glad you asked, because…” You excitedly click on the next slide, showing various images of bonobos engaging in various forms of social and sexual interactions. “They’re completely different from us!”

The men in front of you sit there in shock while the men at the table stare at you, dumbfounded. Jungkook’s mouth hangs open. Hoseok hides his mouth behind his hand; his eyes are wide with shock. Jimin turns around, looking at the others trying to make sure he’s not insane about what he’s seeing. Namjoon facepalms, unsure if he should laugh at how serious you are about this. Though, Jin does laugh.

“I’m going to need to take a shot of something before I hear whatever else you’re cooking up.” Yoongi gets up from the couch, grabs the tequila and a shot glass on the kitchen counter, and comes back to pour one out and down it. Well, you had already planned that they might need some alcohol before this, so you set it up there. He offers the bottle to Jimin, who only gives him a blank stare and shakes his head.

“Now, as I was saying,” You change the slide, “Bonobos are different. They’re not just with one partner. They form close bonds with multiple members of their community. The females are dominant and they have sex with everyone, using sex as a tool for social cohesion. It creates less conflict in their communities. They are peaceful and diplomatic.”

Yoongi raises his hand, and you gesture to him to go ahead and ask.

“I’m really trying hard to see where you’re going with this, Y/N.”

“I think even we’re all a bit confused,” Jungkook whispers from the back.

“Humans are apes, guys!” You groan. “And I think as fellow apes, we should adapt to this system that the bonobos have. We need to be the bonobos!” You excitedly look at Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin, who look a little more than concerned.

Jimin's eyes widen in surprise, his gaze flickering between you, Namjoon, and Yoongi. "Are you saying… we should all be together?"

You nod eagerly, a hopeful smile gracing your lips. "Why not? The Bonobos can do that! We already know each other well, so we could explore our feelings for each other openly and authentically and hope that with time, society can adapt that too. Plus I think society should, given that these rent prices are too much for 2 people."

There is stunned silence.

“And here are my sources.” You flip to the last slide of your PowerPoint. “Any questions?”

Yoongi speaks first. “You put sources on your PowerPoint about how we should all start fucking you… and each other?”

You sigh in response. Maybe this is the stupidest thing you’ve cooked up, and you’d hope the point would get across much easier. Alas, that did not happen.

Taehyung sits up straighter on his chair, eyeing you curiously. “Are we included in this offer too?”

“NO!” Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin shout back at him in unison.

“It was worth the shot,” Taehyung sinks down in his chair, a bit embarrassed to have even said that. Jungkook pats his back trying to comfort him, which makes you laugh.

“You guys keep interrupting me,” You sigh, “To answer Yoongi’s question, the bonobos do both. They’re bisexual. Even when they get into arguments, they settle it through sex, like rubbing their genitals together.”

Jimin splutters, whirling to face Namjoon. “Did you put her up to this?”

Namjoon nervously shakes his head, sending you a sharp look for backup.

“Okay, so Namjoon may have sparked the idea of the polycule… but I was the one interested in pitching this and used my notes from the Bio class I took last Spring on socialization of primeapes,” you argue.

“I see.” Jimin nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes at you.

“And I don’t expect you to answer me immediately on this suggestion. I made you wait a long time after all.” You glanced at the three men for a few seconds before looking down on the floor, “We can talk more 1 on 1 whenever you guys are free and then regroup.”

Jimin's expression softens, a hint of understanding dawning in his eyes. "I appreciate you giving us the time to think about this," he says, his voice sincere. "It's a lot to take in, but I love that you’re being open and honest."

He shyly shuffles in place before he resumes speaking. An apology. "I also want to apologize for the way I reacted at game night," he says, his voice laced with regret. "I shouldn't have let my emotions get the best of me."

You meet his gaze, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you at his apology. "Don't worry about it too much anymore," you reply, offering him a reassuring smile. "I'm kinda over it now, but we can talk about it more when we meet one on one if you want."

Jimin nods, relief evident in his eyes. "Thanks," he says, his voice genuine.

You smile gratefully at Jimin, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. It was a risk laying your feelings bare with this polygamous idea, but you're glad you did.

"Okay, guys let's take some time to think about it," Namjoon suggests, his tone thoughtful. "But I will say that I’ve been down for this idea since Tiny and I talked about it last night."

Yoongi nods in agreement, his expression contemplative. "Yeah, but we'll definitely need some time to process everything."

With that, the tension in the room eases, replaced by a sense of cautious optimism. You may not have all the answers yet, but you've taken the first step toward exploring a new possibility together.

As everyone begins to disperse, you catch Namjoon's eye, sharing a meaningful glance that speaks volumes.

Though when it comes to Yoongi and Jimin, you’re not completely sure how those conversations will end up going. You have to mentally prepare yourself if your talks with them end up going south.

+++++++++++

March 4th [Monday]

Hwasa's voice is a mix of disbelief and amusement as she processes the events you've just recounted. "So let me get this straight… you went out after you said you didn’t want to go because you got convinced by the beta guys, you got drunk, you ran into your ex-boyfriend and had a minor argument, and then Namjoon suddenly stepped in to fight him and then he took you back to my dorm and you two fucked?”

You nod sheepishly, feeling the weight of the absurdity of your situation pressing down on you. "That’s the gist of it… yeah. And I’m so sorry about fucking in your dorm!"

“It’s fine since you aired it out and cleaned, but… Oh, Honey… what kind of fucked up kdrama are you living?” Hwasa's laughter rings out, a mix of concern and amusement evident in her tone.

"I honestly don’t know! But it gets more… complicated? I just can’t talk about it much." Your voice trails off, the complexity of your feelings and the situation leaving you at a loss for words.

You feel like if you told Hwasa about the whole “polycule” plan, you’d immediately scare her into taking you to the campus psychologist. For now, you’ll just continue to see where things go before telling her.

As you ponder your next move, you feel a gentle hand touch your back, and you turn to see Soyoon arriving to join you and Hwasa for lunch. The three of you sit in the rooftop courtyard, basking in the warm sunlight and the secluded space to discuss your scandalous life while overlooking the campus.

“How are you doing, sweetie? I was so worried for you on Friday,” Soyoon asks, her voice filled with genuine concern.

“I’m doing a lot better now! Thank you for accompanying Joon!” you reply, offering her a grateful smile.

“Soyoon was there?! Man, I really fucking missed everything. The Sigma Party was so boring,” Hwasa interjects, her tone tinged with regret.

“I was hanging out with Namjoon and the other guys in his artsy group, and when he heard you might be in danger, he dropped everything to go find you.” Soyoon's voice is soft, her admiration for Namjoon evident in her words.

Hwasa's cooing and teasing make you blush furiously, and you shake your head in an attempt to ward off her playful remarks. But her laughter only grows louder. “Aww! Damn you truly got these men whipped for you!” she exclaims, her amusement bubbling over.

"So what's going to happen now? Are you going to go out with Namjoon?” She leans in closer to your face, making your cheeks redden even more from the proximity. “Because if you won't… maybe I will!" Soyoon jokes, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Maybe in January, you would’ve been a bit more apprehensive to hear her say that comment, but now? After Namjoon confessed to you in the pouring rain and gave himself to you? Nope. You have already overcome that obstacle.

Though, if things don’t end up working out with the polycule plan, will you still pick one of them in the end… or will you let them be free? Maybe in that scenario, Namjoon would get with Soyoon. Soyoon would be down for him, though if he’s not, she’s the type to just keep swimming and find the next thing to intrigue her.

Hwasa, always ready to add fuel to the fire, chimes in with her own teasing. "Oh shit! Y/N, you better decide soon this time!" she yelps, her laughter echoing through the courtyard.

You roll your eyes, feeling the weight of their playful banter. "Hey, I'm working on it, okay?" you retort, trying to sound confident despite the uncertainty swirling within you. "It's not like I can just flip a coin and decide my love life." You really can’t do that.

Soyoon raises an eyebrow, her expression teasing. "Why not? It worked for me once."

Hwasa bursts into laughter at Soyoon's remark, and you can't help but join in, the tension of the conversation easing slightly.

“Speaking of you choosing between your harem of lover boys, Lover Boy #2 is heading this way.” Hwasa's playful comment elicits a chuckle from you as you turn to see Jimin approaching. His casual charm and flirtatious grin make your heart flutter, despite your attempts to play it cool.

"Hi ladies, do y’all mind if I take this little one with me?" Jimin says, his tone dripping with playful affection as he sends you a teasing glance.

You raise an eyebrow at his nickname for you, but the warmth in his eyes softens the teasing edge. "Little one?" you repeat, feigning offense.

“Sure, go for it,” Hwasa giggles, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“Fine by me!” Soyoon adds with a playful wink in your direction.

You can't help but laugh at their antics. With a playful roll of your eyes, you turn back to Jimin, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “So, where are you taking me?”

Jimin grins, “Hmm… Let’s go to Yifang for boba? I’ll drive.”

“Ooh, smooth move, Jimin!” Hwasa chimes in with a knowing grin, while Soyoon adds, “Looks like Namjoon has another strong competitor in the ring!”

Jimin chuckles at their teasing, offering you his arm with a playful wink. “Shall we, little one?” he says, emphasizing the nickname with a playful twinkle in his eye.

You play along, linking your arm with his as you shoot a smug glance back at Hwasa and Soyoon. “Lead the way, I suppose, Jimin,” you reply, unable to hide the laughter bubbling up within you.

+++++++++++

You two decide to sit on a bench at a promenade near Yifang. The soft glow of the afternoon sun casts a warm hue over everything, lending a serene ambiance to the moment.

You take a sip of your drink, the sweet and refreshing taste of the boba sending a delightful shiver down your spine. Jimin glances over at you, a contented smile gracing his features as he takes in the peaceful scene. Reminding himself the reasons why he is in love with you.

“This is nice,” he remarks softly, his gaze drifting out towards a fountain. “I’ve missed spending time like this with you.”

You smile back at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Yeah, me too,” you reply, your voice soft and sincere.

For a while, you both simply sit in comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company and the tranquil surroundings. It’s moments like these that make you appreciate his existence, but also feel a bit embarrassed about you two even fighting weeks before.

“So—”

“Okay before we start talking about the polycule thing, I have to come clean and say that I accidentally sent Taehyung your nudes one night when I was drunk and that’s how he found out about our situationship before the fight.” Jimin blurts out.

The revelation hits you like a bolt of lightning, leaving you momentarily speechless.

“Huh? What!?” you manage to sputter out, your mind reeling with disbelief.

“I unsent them right after I noticed, of course! But he still saw them.” Jimin continues, his tone filled with remorse.

The weight of his words sinks in, and you feel a surge of mixed emotions wash over you. “I… So Taehyung… saw… oh my god, JIMIN!” you exclaim, struggling to process the information.

Jimin's eyes widen, his expression fraught with concern as he waits for your response. “I just wanted to say this because I don’t want any more secrets or hiding stuff. But if that’s something that will make you not want to be with me, I totally under—.”

“Jimin! It’s okay,” you interrupt, your voice gentle but firm. Despite the shock of his confession, you can't bring yourself to be angry. “That’s not going to stop me from loving you. Whatever things happened in the past mean nothing from this point moving forward.”

Relief floods Jimin's features, his tense shoulders sagging slightly as he exhales audibly. "I feel the same way," he murmurs, his voice tinged with gratitude. "Thank you. I was so worried about how you'd react."

You reach out to place a reassuring hand on his arm, offering him a small smile. "Hey, we're in this together, right?" you say softly, meeting his gaze with unwavering sincerity. “Even if… unfortunately Taehyung has seen me naked…”

Jimin nods, a grateful smile spreading across his lips. "Right," he agrees, his expression reflecting a sense of relief at your understanding. “So I guess since that’s out of the way, I can give you my thoughts on your crazy polycule idea.”

You're surprised by how quickly Jimin seems to have made up his mind about the whole polycule idea, especially considering you explicitly told him to take his time to think it over. It's as if he's been silently considering this possibility for a while now, and the urgency in his tone makes your heart flutter nervously.

“Okay.” You gesture your hands to signal him to go on.

"I've thought about the idea of being with you before, in that sense," Jimin admits, his words coming out carefully as he navigates the complexities of his thoughts. "And if it had to involve Namjoon and Yoongi, I wouldn’t care much because those thoughts also floated around before. Being sexual with each other works out." His casual demeanor catches you off guard, a reminder of just how unpredictable Jimin can be at times.

But then he hesitates, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he grapples with a deeper question. "But balancing being in a romantic relationship with all of us in it? Is it even possible to do that? I feel like we have different needs when it comes to you." His uncertainty hangs in the air, casting a shadow of doubt over the idea.

You consider his words carefully, the depth of his question sinking in as you search for a response. "Well, we've been best friends for so long," you begin, your voice calm and measured as you try to offer reassurance. "I think being romantic and intimate come naturally from how close we've been all this time." You take another sip of your strawberry milk tea boba, the sweetness of the drink giving you the energy to talk through this conversation carefully. But then something Jimin says catches you off guard, causing you to pause mid-sip.

"Wait, you've thought about a foursome with all of us? So you really are…"

Jimin shifts uncomfortably, his gaze momentarily averting yours as he struggles to find the right words. "Huh? Uh, yeah," he admits sheepishly, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "A couple of times, I mean, is that surprising?"

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a small chuckle escaping your lips at his candid response. "No, well I've had suspicions," you confess, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. "Taehyung always mentions taking your virginity. And then when we had the threesome, you were pretty into it with Yoongi."

You kind of already had an idea that Jimin’s open with his sexuality and his experience extending from girls to guys as well. It's not something he’s discussed openly before though, and if you're considering taking your relationship to the next level, it's a conversation that needs to be had.

"Yoongi was the first one to know about me and Taehyung, so I trusted him since he also has a similar mindset as me," Jimin explains, a wistful smile playing on his lips as he reminisces about past conversations with his friend. "Though I think he's more Y/N-sexual than pan." He lets out a laugh, the tension in the air momentarily dissipating. "But otherwise, yeah, I'm down to be with you and share you with Yoongi and Joon, but I'm scared about balancing you."

You nod thoughtfully, understanding the gravity of Jimin's concerns. "Balancing multiple relationships is going to be challenging, I have no doubts," you acknowledge, your tone gentle as you reach out to place a reassuring hand on Jimin's arm. "But like we’ve said hundreds of times before. I think as long as we're honest with each other and communicate openly, we can make it work."

Jimin looks up at you, his eyes softening at your reassuring words. "You really think so?"

"I do," you affirm with a nod, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "We've been through so much together, Jimin. I believe in us."

A sense of relief washes over Jimin's features, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he exhales a deep breath. "Thank you, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice filled with gratitude. "For being so understanding and patient with me."

"No, thank you," you reply, offering him a warm smile. “You’ve dealt with my dramatic ass for years now, and yet you still fell for me.”

“Because I’m just as dramatic as you. It takes a special kind of person like me to handle that ass.” Jimin teases.

You chuckle at Jimin's sassy remark, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Well, lucky for you, I happen to think your dramatic ass is pretty special too," you tease back, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Jimin grins. "I guess we're just a perfect match then." Feeling giddy, Jimin takes a sip of your drink, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk.

You can’t help but feel so flustered at Jimin’s sudden actions. "You're really going to be the death of me, Park Jimin."

Your cheeks flush at his bold move, but you can't help but smile in return. His playful antics never fail to charm you. You lean in towards him and place an innocent peck on his lips, which leaves him in surprise for a second before he starts chuckling.

“You too L/N Y/N!”

You feel a surge of warmth in your chest, realizing how lucky you are to have him by your side. You intertwine your fingers with him as he drives back to campus, the comfortable silence between you filled with reassurance and forgiveness to move forward.

+++++++++++

March 6th [Wednesday]

“I’m still surprised that you’d be down for the polycule idea.” You comment to Namjoon as you put away returned library books on the bookshelves. You’re working a morning shift at the library and Namjoon decided that it was the best time to go read a book and drink a hot americano next to you. He sits on the floor and responds occasionally, his back leaning against the filled giant bookshelf.

“I’m down for whatever makes you happy, Tiny. I’ve always said that.” he says, without looking away from his book.

“But you’ve always been so…jealous. You didn’t like me talking to JB and you literally punched my ex. I’m honestly wondering how you’ll manage trying not to be jealous of Yoongi or Jimin if they agree to this.” You laugh.

“They’re different. I’m used to how Jimin is overly affectionate with you and everyone else. Even though I haven’t seen Yoongi be like that with you, I really don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

“Okay, but aside from that. What about you going abroad?” Namjoon’s eyes widen, caught a little off guard by the question. “You got in, didn’t you?”

“Yeah… but I won’t go if you don’t want me to.” He says sternly.

You sighed loudly, getting a little upset that he would put that pressure on you. “I’m not going to be the one to tell you to go or not. That is up to you, mister.” You boop him on the nose with your index finger. “Don’t force yourself to follow me, even if you’re in love with me.”

He chuckles, “Nah, I wouldn’t do that. I did get into Korea’s Yonsei program though.”

“Yonsei!? Wait, that’s like a Korean Ivy League school! Oh my god, congrats!” You lean down to hug him, encapsulating his whole body around yours due to him sitting down.

“I’ve always been at the top of my class, so it’s not a surprise I got in.” He giggles as he hugs you back.

“As expected of Kim Namjoon. Then I’m taking back my hug!” You remove yourself, which causes him to whine.

You laugh at his reaction, “Just leave me here with Yoongi and Jimin. I’ll be fine. Go on your study abroad. Just obviously don’t go cheating on me.”

“Never.” He pulls you back down and starts peppering kisses around your face.

You feel your face redden from his sudden behavior. Your heart begins to race and you stutter. “N-Namjoon…”

He leaves a final kiss on your lips, gentle and softly. “If Yoongi and Jimin don’t want to do this polycule shit, then just stay with me. I won’t let you go.”

You would like to end up with Joon if things don’t work out with this plan, but in the long run, you know that you’ll never be satisfied only having a piece of Namjoon. Yoongi and Jimin have already carved a place in your heart, so if you can’t have them, would it be worth staying with only one of them?

“I’ll think about that more if it happens.” You say as your words stray away a bit as there’s a lingering thought on your mind. “I forgot to ask this earlier, but do the guys know you’re going abroad?”

Namjoon shakes his head, “Nah. I hadn’t told them just in case plans didn’t work out. But I’ll wait a bit and see if I’ll go through with it. Deadline’s the first week of April.”

You sigh, pointing directly at his face with your expression stern, “I only ask that you follow your heart and not your dick!”

Namjoon chuckles again, his beautiful dimples appearing once again. God, you will miss seeing him for a couple of months if does end up going abroad in the Fall. Though, you won’t stop him if he wants to go. You love him, Yoongi and Jimin, but you aren’t the clingy girlfriend type that will chain them down from their dreams. They wouldn’t do that to you either.

“I will! I will!”

+++++++++++

March 8 [Friday]

"Your birthday’s tomorrow, Yoongs."

The warm sun blankets the university lawn as you and Yoongi work on your homework assignments. It's a relief to finally feel some warmth after weeks of chilly weather, so you wanted to spend the afternoon out. Yoongi doesn’t mind accompanying you. He also thinks it might be the best time to tell you his answer to your suggestion.

“I honestly forgot.” He rubs his face with his hands, “I’ve been finishing up my mixtape shit.”

“Oh shit? Is it finally coming together?”

He flips his laptop screen, revealing a list of song titles labeled 'Final Demo 1', 'Final Demo 2', and so on. It’s insane how much he has progressed in the making of his mixtape, and you can't wait to hear it when it’s done.

“Fuck yeah it is.” Yoongi says, a hint of pride in his voice. “Professor Kang said I’m doing so good on my own after he listened to three of the tracks, and that’s been motivating me. I got 1 more track to go”

You're genuinely excited for him. "See! I told you that you got this! You’re a musical genius, Min Yoongi!" you exclaim, giving him a playful slap on his right arm.

“That was all thanks to you though.”

He chuckles, grateful for the encouragement. "That was all thanks to you, though," he says, his gaze meeting yours with warmth. It's moments like these that remind you why you love Yoongi—his talent, his dedication, and his humility, all wrapped up in one.

"No, I didn't really do anything. I just gave you a gentle push of encouragement and let you free." you reply modestly, downplaying your role in his success. He is the talented one who was able to make music. The only music you know is playing the violin and the flute from middle school, though you don’t even think you remember at this point.

Yoongi shakes his head, a grin tugging at his lips. "You did more than that, but okay." he teases.

Your face reddens, becoming flustered that he would mention that right now. Min Yoongi is nothing but a demon at times. You choose to change the topic for now.

“Ignoring that for now! So are you going to do anything for your birthday?”

He rolls his eyes playfully at you for changing the topic, “Nope. I told the guys I wanted no party or dinner… or brunch. I just want to finish this damn mixtape.” Yoongi resumes his work on his laptop by fiddling with different things on his screen, half a headphone in.

“Yoongi..” You narrow your eyes at him.

Yoongi’s always been the type to not celebrate his birthday, so it’s no surprise he’d rather spend it working on something. But you still think he should celebrate his birthday. Compared to Namjoon and Jimin, Yoongi’s life and overall upbringing haven’t been that easy on him. You’re glad he’s still here despite it all. It’s probably why he’s also working so hard on this project knowing that it could put him and his family in a better financial situation. He feels that he has to succeed or else, and you know he will.

“But if you want to get me a strawberry cream cake from Paris Baguette in downtown, I’m not opposed to it…” His lips pucker mischievously towards the end of his drifting words.

You giggle and pat his head gently, “You already know I’ll do anything for you. Let me just ask Park to drive me to pick it up.”

It’s now Yoongi’s turn to feel flustered when you baby him a little with your small actions. He’ll never admit it, but he likes these types of things. Being gently cared for and appreciated.

“Which is one of the many reasons why I love you.” He glances over at you, taking a sip of his iced americano that was placed two feet away from him. He’s scared of accidentally knocking it over his computer.

You immediately cover your face, “H-Hey…A-Are you still sure about that?”

“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t say it now.”

“Touche.” You respond, letting go of your face. “Then, what about having to share that love with me with two other people?” You ask curiously, thinking that bringing up the question felt right in the moment. But after a second, you felt maybe that wasn’t right. You’re not trying to force him to respond to your plan, but it may come off that way.

“Already eager for me to answer if I want to join your harem?” He teases you again, which internally gives you a sigh of relief that he wasn’t offended by your question at all.

“Maybe…” Your words drift off, before attaching an apology to that “Sorry, was that bad of me to bring up?”

“It’s fine. I wanted to talk about it anyway.” He takes his headphones off and closes his laptop.

With all his attention on you, oh this is about to get more serious.

Out of all the guys, you were initially worried Namjoon would be the hardest one to pull on board. But now you’re thinking that it’s Yoongi. Namjoon’s tough and overprotective exterior had melted down once he finally told you how he had been feeling all this time. You think that might’ve contributed to his eagerness to go along with your polycule plan. But Yoongi? You feel that he might think the polycule plan has too many faults that will lead to a fallen house of cards. He might also want you for himself. He’s a pisces after all.

But Yoongi is also unpredictable too.

Yoongi gently holds your hand, toying with it as he comes out with his response. “Your polycule plan isn’t foolproof, Angel. That’s one of my main concerns.” He sighs, looking up at the sky as a plane leaves a trail behind it. “And I’m surprised that Namjoon didn’t bring this up during your presentation.” He looks back at you.

Your demeanor seemingly deflates, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi, “Probably because he’s a bit blinded by rose-tinted glasses right now, but you’re right.” You pout.

“I usually think of the consequences later, but because this involves all of our feelings and the people around us…have you thought about what would happen with that?”

“I have…” You admit, though the words coming out of your mouth aren’t convincing. “But like I said, we could try this polycule thing first and then after some time, if we’re feeling good about it, we could break the news to people outside of this?”

Yoongi sighs, running a hand through his hair. “My Christian Korean mom is going to have a heart attack hearing about how her son is dating his female best friend and also his two male best friends.” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“Okay! Then maybe we just tell them we have equally agreed to not date anyone ever and live together… like that article about the seven Chinese girlfriends buying a mansion to retire and die together!”

This time, Yoongi bursts out laughing, his gummy smile on full display. “The seven Chinese what? Really?”

You can’t help but laugh too, the tension easing a bit. “Seven Chinese girlfriends! I mean, it’s a valid plan, right? We could all just live in a big place and avoid ever mentioning that we’re together. People will just have to catch on and accept it, right?”

Yoongi mumbles to himself, shaking his head. “Maybe I just need to hold out on Geumjae marrying his girlfriend so my mom isn’t on my ass about marriage.”

“We will talk about marriage when and if we get there, Yoongs. First, we gotta decide on this polycule–”

“I’ll do it,” Yoongi interrupts, standing up from his spot and looking down at you with a determined expression.

“Huh?! Wait, really?” You blink up at him, genuinely surprised.

He nods, his expression serious yet gentle. “Yeah. I’ve thought about something similar before you even brought it up. And while I’m not sure if this plan will work out, I still want to try it.” He stretches out his hand to you. “I want to be with you, Joon, and Jimin. If it means we can all be happy together, then I’m willing to see where this goes.”

You feel a wave of relief and excitement wash over you. “Thank you Yoongi!” You grab his hand, but suddenly pull him towards you so he ends up falling on top of you. Yoongi is flustered from the action, but you continue speaking. “You don’t know how much I appreciate you.”

Yoongi’s weight pressing gently against you. The warmth of his body contrasts with the cool earth beneath, grounding you in the moment. You can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as he rests above you, both of you breathing in sync.

For a moment, everything else fades away. The vibrant blue sky stretches endlessly above, dotted with fluffy white clouds drifting lazily by. The sunlight filters through the leaves of a nearby tree, casting dappled shadows that dance across Yoongi's face. You gaze into his eyes, dark and deep, filled with a mixture of resolve and tenderness.

He lowers his head, brushing his lips lightly against yours in a kiss that is both gentle and intimate. Your heart races as you lose yourself in the sensation, his lips moving with a soft, deliberate rhythm. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The world around you seems to blur, the sounds of distant chatter and birdsong becoming a distant hum.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you smile up at Yoongi. “You really mean it, right?”

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “I do. We’ll figure it out together, somehow. And who knows? Maybe this crazy idea will work out.”

You both lie there for a moment longer, wrapped up in each other and the serenity of the afternoon. The grass beneath you is soft, and the gentle breeze carries the scent of blooming flowers.

Yoongi shifts slightly, propping himself up beside you on one elbow, continuing to look at you. “So, what’s the plan for my birthday tomorrow? What surprise did you really have up your sleeve?”

You laugh, still feeling the lingering warmth of his kiss. “I thought you said you were going to be working on your mixtape!”

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, now maybe I’m in the mood to do something with you guys. Maybe we could also break the news to the rest of the guys while we’re at it,” he suggests, smirking playfully.

You watch him, trying to gauge his thoughts. Yoongi, after all, is always full of surprises. His mischievous nature makes you smile curiously at him, feeling a rush of excitement and giddiness.

“Breaking the news on your birthday? That sounds like such a Yoongi thing to do,” you tease, poking his side gently. “But hey, if that’s what you want, I’m down for it. We’ll make it a day to remember.”

Yoongi chuckles, the sound deep and comforting. “Yeah, let’s make it unforgettable. Just like you, always turning my plans upside down.”

You both laugh, the joy and anticipation bubbling up between you. The campus around you feels alive with possibility, open book waiting to be written by you. As you lie there together, the sunlight casting a golden hue over everything, you feel a renewed sense of hope for you guys. — — —

tbc !!!!! :D

a/n: we've reached the resolution arc! there is only 2 more chapters left (technically one... the last one is an epilogue detailing what's going to happen after a few months). i apologize for this update taking a little more than a month. I had finished this a few weeks ago, but my editor has been busy with her new work, so waiting for edits took a bit of time. i am already working on chapter 11... which will be filled with a lot .... and i mean... a lot of smut... i cannot make any promises it will be good... but a 4some will be hard. send me lot of luck, dear readers. i will try to get CH 11 out mid june, but unsure as of yet. im still on my job searching arc, which has been rough, but this fic has been a great way to escape and share this world with you guys. thank you all for reading!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist! ➸ love u lately series masterlist

[8myass]

.. happier .. pairing. kim jungwoo x female reader genre. angst, smut pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) synopsis. you took away the only thing that made him happy, so he gave you no choice but to give all of you to him. wc. 3.6k cw. enemy/ex-friend!jungwoo, assistant manager!jungwoo, dom!jungwoo, manager!reader, sub!reader tw. mentions alcohol consumption, mentions sexual harassment, woo is very unhinged and delusional, choking, gaslighting, cursing, noncon (don’t like, don’t read), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap your meat fellas), clit play, woo’s disrespectful, hickeys, biting, dacryphilia, crying (so much crying), tit slapping, fingering, degradation, name calling (‘baby’, ‘boss’, ‘babe’), hair pulling, breeding, implied kidnapping a/n. yeah, this is late, my bad 🤭 but i did FINALLY get it posted, sorry for making y’all wait. but i didn't expect to write jungwoo like this?? yet here we all are side note: the jaehyun fic is coming, everything i’ve been writing for it is pure crap so i have to keep trashing it and starting over, but i’ll get there eventually :,)

He made one mistake – ONE – and it paved the way for you to jump right into his spot as manager of the company. He was now only the assistant manager to you. You would now boss him around. You were above him, you stole his position that he’s worked so hard to earn, you ruined his goddamn life.

Sure, his mistake was a rather big one. Showing up to the office drunk… He should’ve known he would be punished profusely for such a disturbance, but who were you to steal his place in the company when he made one mistake?? He’s the best worker that place has ever seen, how could they abandon him like that without even considering how he’d feel? And you. How could you accept that position so gratefully when you knew he was more deserving? 

You’ve been trying to steal his job away from him for ages now, haven’t you? 

He hated the fact that you were so happy in your new managerial role; you were way too cocky about bossing him around and telling him what to do. How could he even look at you as anything more than he previously did when he was the one who trained you when you first showed up to be working alongside him? I mean, of course, you’d be happy, it was a good job. An amazing job, really. But why didn’t you stop to consider how he felt? You didn’t even care.

“Done,” he snorted, throwing a stack of papers onto your desk with a loud thud.

You sighed deeply, gazing up into his narrowed eyes with a softness in yours, “Thank you, Woo. I really appreciate all you’ve been doing to help me around here. It’s hard work. I don’t know how you were able to do it all the time without making it seem like you were struggling; it always looked so easy when you were doing it.”

“Mhm,” he grunted, slamming the door to your office, which was once his, on his way out. It shook the picture frames hanging from the wall the door was attached to. You sighed again, closing your eyes and attempting to think about how close the two of you were in the distant past. Before you got this job offer, you were like two peas in a pod, then he came into the office one day, drunk off his ass with not a single thing keeping him from rubbing up on the girls to make them uncomfortable or cursing out the rest of his colleagues. You wanted to reject the proposal, but you felt he was in need of a punishment for that. I mean, you were even a victim of his unusually unpleasant touches. You tried to stop him from making a fool of himself, knowing how unlike him he was when he was under the influence of alcohol, but you couldn’t get him out of the office before the boss showed up and kicked him out. He was lucky he wasn’t fired and being demoted was the only thing that happened to him. 

You could tell he held it against you. Just by the way he spoke to you anymore, he was clearly bitter about the turn of events. However, he needs to understand that if it weren’t you taking that role as the company manager, it would be another person that works at the office who might be far less skilled at their job than you. He couldn’t just go unpunished because you rejected the offer of a promotion. He’d be completely demoted, possibly moved out of all managerial roles if you had denied them. But he just couldn’t see that, and every time you tried to explain that to him behind closed doors in the safety of your home, he would seem to get even pissier at you, deeming every word that escaped your mouth a lie.

You gave up trying, eventually. You can easily assume he noticed because he only got worse with you. He stopped doing his job, treating you with the most disrespect you’ve ever fallen victim to in your life, forcing you to cover for him as he leaves the office to run silly errands, leaving you doing his job in more ways than one. It was all a pity party with him, really. So when it got to the point where you were going home crying every night, parking your car on the side of the road because your vision was too blurred to see the path in front of you clearly, you had no choice but to confront him about it. Of course, it wasn’t the easiest thing for you to do. I mean, you hated confrontation more than anything, but it was necessary. 

You have such dread running through your tense little body as you reach your hand up toward Jungwoo’s front door, softly pounding your knuckles against the wood. You hoped, pleaded with every fiber of your being that he wouldn’t be home, that he would be out somewhere doing something and he wouldn’t be there to answer the door. But he was. He opened the door in not even a minute, staring at you with a blank expression as he snapped, “Yes? Can I help you, boss?”

You always told him not to call you that and you’d always correct him whenever he did, but today was not the day for you to be sweet to him and treat him in a friendly manner. “Can I come in? I have to talk to you and you weren’t in the office yesterday for us to talk then.”

“If I wasn’t in the office, why would you tell the head department that I was?” he chuckled, leaning down slightly so his breath was felt on your lips. Had he expected this to intimidate you? Intimidation? You figured he’d pull out some of his special games, but you wouldn’t be intimidated. He seems to forget how tough you are.

“Would you like me to correct my mistake? Because I gladly will. I simply thought you’d be able to appreciate all the work I’ve been doing on your behalf just to cover your ass while you’re out and about doing god knows what when you should be sitting at your chair in your office actually working,” you snuffed, which made him instantly retract away from you, eyes narrowing.

He sighed and stepped to the side of the walkway, motioning with his hand for you to enter. You did just that and walked through the opened door, looking around the entrance with an air of cockiness, “I feel like I’ve never been here before, you’ve really changed this place around.”

“What do you want?” he refused an answer to your comment, asking a question of his own.

“Shall we sit?” you turned to him with an innocent smile on your gorgeous face. To say Jungwoo hasn’t had quite a thing for you would’ve been the biggest lie. He previously had feelings for you, that was until you fucked him over like you had. Now, he can’t understand how he feels about you anymore. You were still so beautiful in his eyes, but cruel all the same.

He led you to a place in the living room, allowing you to sit on a couch, him next to you, leaning back against the arm of the chair so he could face you, snickering, “What’s this about? I’m kinda in the middle of something, could we hurry this along?”

“I will drag it on further if you keep getting snippy with me,” you snorted, rolling your eyes before sucking in a deep breath and continuing as soon as he sat up straight, eyes slightly widening. He’s never heard you raise your voice like he just had, even when you two were close friends. It was odd hearing the loud side of you for the first time in his life. “You need to stop leaving the office, Jungwoo. I’m not gonna keep covering for you, I just can’t anymore. If they find out I was covering for you like that, I’ll be in trouble alongside you.”

“You act as if I’d care if you get in trouble,” he scoffed, leaning toward you with a sly smirk, “I hope you get in trouble.”

“And you need to stop with the disrespect, I’m tired of leaving work crying over something you said to me. I miss you, Woo. I miss you as a friend,” you sighed deeply, inhaling the scent of the perfume that he always wore. That scent always drove you crazy.

“Then quit,” he shrugged nonchalantly as if he had no care about how hurt you were feeling right now.

“Jungwoo,” you nearly teared up at the thought of losing him forever, just because of a job that he practically gave up the moment he walked into those doors drunk. “Please, I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You already lost me, baby,” he purred, palm resting on your jaw as his thumb caressed your reddening cheek, “I hope you understand, you took my happiness away, so I’ll get it back by taking yours in turn.”

“How did I take your happiness?” you sniffled, voice shaky, “You showed up drunk and expected to come to work the next day like normal.”

“You didn’t have to take my job,” he growled, hand slipping down around your throat to gently squeeze. 

You gasped, reaching up to attempt to pry his grip off of your neck, “J-Jungwoo, wh-what are you do-doing?!”

“You wanted to come here and lecture me about treating you better, but you’ve been the one who’s treating me like absolute shit? You’ve been so cocky since you were promoted, rubbing your ‘boss’ title in my face like my job wasn’t my entire fucking life. How am I supposed to treat you with respect when I don’t respect you anymore in the slightest?” he glared, upper lip twitching out of agitation, his grasp on your neck was tightening with every passing moment. You struggled to get out of his grip, but he was too strong, a lot stronger than you thought he’d be.

“Yo-you know I didn’t me-mean it t-that way,” you sobbed, tears rolling down your cheeks as fear sprung through you. Is he gonna kill me? was the only thing keeping your brain from shattering into pieces, letting yourself give into the temptation of losing every breath to his rough hold.

He finally let you go, pushing you back against the couch to collide his lips with you, his own body falling on top of yours. As you let out a large breath of unreleased air into his mouth, you realized the situation you had gotten yourself into now. His hand was still around your throat, but he wasn’t squeezing it anymore. His other hand was pinning your wrists above your head so you couldn’t fight him off, legs parting your own as his body deeply pressed against yours, that enticing scent of his was consuming you. You felt like he was eating you whole, taking everything from you with just a simple kiss. His tongue wasn’t gentle with yours, roughly exploring the entirety of your mouth as he grinded against your hips.

He soon pulled away from the kiss, squeezing your neck tightly again so any noises you made would be incomprehensible. He looked down at the way your bodies were rubbing against each other, he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, gazing into your glossy eyes, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips before whispering, “Is this disrespectful, boss?”

You nodded, but you were unable to speak, only gasping for relief at the tightness of your airway.

He laughed almost maniacally, connecting your lips before he could speak anymore, digging himself further. But as soon as his lips met yours, something new and disgusting snapped inside him. Could he really be doing this right now? This wasn’t him… but he was thinking about going farther, even without your permission to do so… He just wanted to have you, take you.

He begged his inner self to stop, his mind going blank at the thought of being inside you, so much so that it was hard for him to stop when he already had your thin leggings down by your knees, panties swiped to the side, his fingers rubbing circles around your sensitive bud, juices leaking from your clenching hole. Your nails clawed at the skin of his wrists, pleading for him to let you go. But how could he let you go when both your bodies were craving this? He could tell by how wet you seemed to be that you were loving this.

He pulled away from your swollen lips to trail kisses down your neck, humming against your skin, “Gonna make you show up to work covered in the marks of your subordinate.”

“N-no, plea-please stop it. You don’t ha-have to do th-this,” you cried, anxiety filling you at the thought of what he was planning on doing to you next. Surely the Jungwoo you’ve known for years now wouldn’t go any farther than this, right? Of course, this was horrendously disgusting and you’d make sure he would never live this down, he’d be punished accordingly for this. As much as you could, you’d make him pay for such a simple mistake, just as he had paid for his disorderly conduct in the office.

His teeth dug into your skin, lips latching around the marks inflicted on your perfect flesh to redden the skin even further. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling already, and he hadn’t even done anything to you yet. 

He trailed his free hand down your body, then slipped it into his own pants to pull his hardened cock out, precum already dripping from the tip. The moment you felt him glide his dick along the walls of your dampened cunt, you started squirming around even more, fearful sounds escaping your parted lips. He chuckled against your skin, biting into the delicate flesh as hard as he could, causing a loud, pained scream to come from your adorable form, body tensing and pausing your movements to sob harder, chest heaving up and down from paranoia.

“Woo, please…” you whimpered, desperately trying to think of all the possibilities of escaping his grasp you had right now. Although, it seemed like you had none. What were you gonna do? He was way stronger than you and you had nowhere to run even if you had made it out from underneath him. This was his house, his neighborhood, his area. He knew this place like the back of his hand and you’d only ever been here once before. There was no way he wouldn’t be able to catch up to you if you took off running since you were dumb enough to order an Uber to bring you here instead of waiting until your car was out of the shop to drive yourself. “Th-this isn’t the Woo I know and… and love…”

“Love?” he repeated, looking down into your soft eyes that were swollen by how much you’ve cried for him, your lips were just as swollen and red from his excessive kissing – he would know, his were, too – the beautiful, shameful marks beginning to appear all over the canvas your neck offered him, even the tears running down your burning hot cheeks was a beauty to him. “You love me?” he couldn’t help but break out into laughter after a couple of seconds of analyzing your tiny figure under him. You were just trying to get away from him, huh? “You think I’m gonna buy that? It doesn’t seem like you love me.”

“Woo, it doesn’t have to seem like I love you, because I know I do. Please, believe me,” you whined, voice so shaky and unbearably inaudible that you could tell it wasn’t passing through his thick skull because of the situation you were in. Who could love him in a moment like this? “I… I know th-this probably isn’t the best scenario to be telling you this in, but please… just… believe me…”

He laughed again, this time it almost sounded more sinister than the last, leaning closer to your face, noses brushing together, every inhale was just a recycled breath from him, “Well, shouldn’t you love this then? It’s only rational, right? If you love someone, you should give everything to them.”

“N-no, Woo, I-I don’t be-believe in that!” you exclaimed, finally finding your voice as you saw his hands fumbling with something before feeling him tug your panties over your ass and down with your leggings. “I-I don’t want this!”

“I guess we’re not meant to be if we have different values, my love,” he shrugged, his cock pressing inside you right after his last spoken word. You squealed, head falling back as your jaw tightened, nails digging into his shoulders, back arching in an attempt to get away from the ruthless and brutal thrusting of his hips, not allowing you time to even adjust to his size before bottoming out inside you repeatedly. 

“Ju-Jungwoo,” you whimpered, unintentionally feeling yourself lock your legs around his waist, mouth gaping as soft moans flew from it. You weren’t enjoying this, not a single bit. At least, that’s what you’d tell yourself, and him, if given the chance.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he smirked, gripping your hair tightly to pull your head up, eyes snapping open to meet his cocky stare, “My dick feel good in your undeserving pussy?”

“N-no,” you shook your head vigorously, trying to control your body from reacting as it was, but it was impossible to deny the fact that you were enjoying the way he felt fucking you like this when your hips were jerking upward in an attempt to activate more friction between your bodies. 

He was savoring every moment of this. Seeing your pretty face wince every time he fucked you a little too deep, watching your body unintentionally convulse each time he pushed inside you as your orgasm neared, shaking your head whenever a moan slipped out of your tightly pursed lips because you always liked being stubborn and continued to deny the pleasure you were feeling. 

“You’re sick,” you scoffed, eyes rolling back as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving more and more marks along the skin, covering your entire neck in purple and red. “You’re so fucking sick, Jungwoo.”

“Call me boss,” he growled into your ear, biting at your earlobe.

“Bu-but-” you didn’t get a chance to finish speaking before he smacked your boob roughly, a weak whimper coming from you.

“I will always be the fucking boss of you, no matter what your title says. Do you understand? Now, call me boss.”

“I-I understand, b-boss,” you cried, hands pushing against his chest as his hips seemed to speed up at your words. He grunted lowly against the skin behind your ear, feeling his cock twitching inside of you as that knot in the pit of your own stomach began to grow more and more with every inch he stuffed inside of you repeatedly.

“God, gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so good, babe,” he groaned, grip in your hair pulling your head back so he could bite along your collarbone, and slowly made his way to your jawline, more moans and groans falling from his lips against your skin.

You wanted to tell him to pull out, not to cum inside you, but you couldn’t manage out anything you were proud of, so you stayed wordless, cries and whimpers filling the air of the room as your legs shook around him. His thrusts got sloppy and his bites became more empathetic, hips stilling as hot strands of creamy liquid shot out inside you, leaking out around his cock and dripping down onto the couch underneath you. You felt your own cum leak out after his, mind going blank as you practically screamed his name, arms wrapping around his neck, fingers running through his hair to keep him close to you, shaking violently under him. It took a good while for your orgasm to pass, and by the time it had, Jungwoo was pulling out of you, getting himself cleaned up before worrying about your dripping cunt. 

He chuckled, leaning down to rub his fingers along the cum seeping from your gaping hole, causing sensitive noises to slip from you, legs twitching involuntarily, “Such a pretty concoction we’ve created. You look good filled with my cum, don’t you think?”

You didn’t say anything, wordlessly nodding, too afraid of what he’d do if you failed to comply with his every need. 

“I think I’ll keep you here from now on, how does that sound?” he hummed, finger slipping into your messy pussy. You gasped, clinging onto his sweat-coated shirt as you let out a string of whimpers. “I’ll keep you here, locked in my house to fulfill my every desire. I’ll use you however I deem fit, doesn’t that sound incredible?”

“N-no, ple-please,” you begged, even though you knew you had no say in the matter. You were puddy in his greedy, narcissistic hands. You had nowhere to go, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He was sick, twisted. He would get what he wanted from you either way, no matter what you would say or do, he’d always get his way.

“You know you’d love it, having my cock buried inside your pathetic, stretched-out cunt every day from dawn to dusk,” he hummed, bringing his lips back onto yours before you could reply, knowing what your answer would be anyway. You were too stubborn to admit you’d love that, he knows you would love everything he’d do to you. And if you don’t, oh well, he’ll make sure you wind up loving it in the end.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Never Did I Truely Hate You

----

Janus doesn't expect any of the others to want him around after he's accepted. Even Remus has been acting off. So, of course, the most sensible course of action would be to avoid the source of hurt entirely.

Virgil does not agree.

----

| Ao3 |

----

Warnings: Self isolation, pretty negative self image

Pairings: Anxceit, very background intrulogical.

Word Count: 2071

Notes: Did a poll on here for which fic I should post next and this one won in a tie with another fic that I will post on Wednesday :3

I feel like I don't write very much canonverse anymore so lmk what you think!!!

----

Janus hadn’t expected everything to be perfect now that he - and begrudgingly Remus - had moved up to the light side’s commons. 

He did not expect Roman to forgive him, or become any less hostile towards him at all, after everything he had done to him. He didn’t expect Patton to want much to do with him, and he expected Logan to prefer talking to anyone but him - even Remus, who he’d spent a surprisingly long amount of time with recently, but whatever, that was none of his business.

And even more than that, He didn’t expect a single ounce of kindness from Virgil. 

Not after he’d left, not after the quips and insults and snipes whenever they’d been within hissing distance of one another. No, he didn’t even expect Virgil to want to be in the same room as him, let alone talk to him, or heaven forbid sit down at the same table as him.

So, Janus decided to intrude on their space as little as possible. It was better to avoid the emotional turmoil and annoying pain it would cause than go through it all… right? …Right??

And so that was how Janus found himself becoming almost nocturnal for the first few weeks of this new arrangement. He also just so happened to spend an ungodly amount of time in the private greenhouse Remus had made for him as an extension of his room (fit, of course, with deadly tropical plants and poisons). He sat there for hours reading, or spent time caring for the snakes that also shared the space and he didn’t come out when someone knocked.

Which was rare because, of course, no-one wanted to talk to him. 

He spent time in the commons at night, making food, eating said food, sometimes even watching a film during the dead hours of the morning. It was fine, he was fine with this arrangement, and he was sure everyone else was enjoying business as usual - you know, without him there.

So far, Janus had managed to avoid running into any side at night - aside from one time, when he came across Roman, though he was already passed out at the kitchen island, so it hardly counted. Something he should have remembered - and would kick himself for forgetting after the events that were about to unfurl because of it - was how awful Virgil’s own sleep schedule was. 

He realised this fact very abruptly when, one night at just past three in the morning, Janus went to open the fridge, only to be attacked from above and tackled to the ground by some kind of hissing creature. 

Moments later, when he gathered his thoughts just enough to will the lights in the living space to turn on, he realised that said hissing creature was actually their resident spider himself, who was now sitting firmly on Janus’ chest as he pinned him to the ground with strong hands on his shoulders. What the fuck?

“Virgil?” Janus asked after a long stretch of silence in which they both stared at each other. 

“I finally got you,” Virgil huffed, seeming a little out of breath from the violent attack, “I’ve been - trying for the last week but you’re too fucking - slippery.”

“What??” Janus asked, staring at Virgil in disbelief, “why?”

“Because you’ve been avoiding all of us since you came up here, idiot,” Virgil said, pushing a little more weight onto Janus’ shoulders, it was starting to hurt, just a little, but he wasn’t about to tell Virgil to get off - this was the closest he’d gotten to him since… before, and Janus wouldn’t lie - at least not in his own thoughts - about how big of a crush he’d always had on Virgil. So yes, he was confused as hell, but he was absolutely not going to push Virgil away when he willingly touched him for the first time in years. What could he say, he was selfish.

“And?” Janus said, trying to make sure his face didn’t betray his raging feelings the position they were in were causing, “So what? I totally expect you and the others would actually want me around.”

“...So what? Dude I’ve been worried sick! Patton asks if we’ve seen you literally every day at breakfast- what? Even Remus doesn’t know where you’ve been!” Virgil yelled, “And then- I was down here on the sofa one night and - well I guess you didn’t fucking see me or whatever but you came down and then disappeared again - so I’ve been trying to catch you every night since to work out what the fuck is going on.”

“There’s nothing ‘going on’,” Janus protested, he was pretty sure he’d lost his hat when Virgil had knocked him over, he didn’t feel too comfortable without it, “I’m just giving you all space to recover after the last episode.”

“No you’re not,” Virgil said, shaking his head with a frown, “I know you too well for that, and we don’t need space, what’s going on, Janus.”

“I-” Janus trailed off, realising that Virgil had really trapped him in a corner here - both literally and metaphorically, Virgil knew him too well, even now, he could spot his lies easily, “It’s nothing of your concern.”

“I didn’t tell the others,” Virgil said, Janus blinked, staring at Virgil’s face in confusion.

“...Didn’t tell the others… what?”

“That you were coming down here at night, that I was trying to uh - do whatever you call this,” Virgil huffed, lifting one hand from his shoulder to gesture to the position the two of them were in, “I didn’t tell them.”

“Why not?” Janus asked, frowning.

Virgil groaned and rolled his eyes, “Because I know you too fucking well, now tell me why you’ve suddenly turned into an owl instead of a snake.”

“I’m saving you all the trouble of pushing me away,” Janus snapped after a long enough pause that Janus knew Virgil wouldn’t relent, “I already know that you all totally want me here, even if Patton’s stupid gesture to accept me meant anything.”

Virgil was silent for a second, didn’t break eye contact as he hesitated, before moving his hands from Janus’ shoulders. For a moment Janus expected him to stand up, dust himself off and mention something about how he was right before walking off. Instead, Virgil sighed and flopped down so he was lying fully on Janus’ chest, head tucked under his chin. 

Almost completely on autopilot - since his brain was entirely bluescreening at the action - Janus’ arms came up to wrap around Virgil, who let out a surprised hum at the action.

“...Virgil?” Janus asked, voice wary. Everything he could have possibly expected from this interaction had just been flung out of the window with a single action.

“When Patton accepted you,” Virgil said, voice a little muffled to Janus’ ears, “I- I was angry at first, but then I just thought that like- now that they liked you I could - I could go back to liking you too, I was excited, I think, to have you back - but then you just disappeared and I - started overthinking it as usual.”

Janus couldn’t help but chuckle even if it came out a little sad, “I thought you out of everyone would want to see me the most, you definitely made that very clear in all of our recent interactions.”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said, readily and without hesitation, “I was awful to you, and it was - it’s no excuse but I only did it because everyone else chose to hate you too I - I was scared I’d lose their respect over it, but - it doesn’t matter now? Because Patton accepted you so - so they’re not going to hate me for liking you, right?”

Virgil lifted his head to look at him, and Janus sighed. 

“You already know that I don’t know the answer to that,” Janus said, “and I’m sure the others will totally just like me without question now that Patton has accepted me.”

Virgil chuckled, “Roman is still mad about the moustache comment.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Janus said, shaking his head, “And I certainly don't expect that Logan isn’t still angry with me about the courtroom.”

“Okay so maybe we- we don’t tell the others about uh - this,” Virgil said, resting his head back on Janus’ chest. 

“I totally know what’s happening right now,” Janus said with a sigh.

“I’m lying on you.” Virgil said, matter of factly, “B’cause you’re cold and strong and nice to lie on.”

“Okay, well this floor is definitely soft and warm and comfortable,” Janus pointed out, “So if you want to continue to lie on me may I suggest we move somewhere that wont give me back problems?”

“Oh right, yeah of course, sorry if I hurt you, when I uh - tackled you, by the way,” Virgil said, almost immediately getting up, looking a little sheepish. 

“It’s fine. Would you like to watch The Black Cauldron?” Janus asked as he sat up, changing the topic, “I think there’s a DVD of it around here somewhere, we could lie on the couch…?”

“You… remember that I like that film?” Virgil asked, sounding oddly quiet, Janus turned from where he had begun walking over to the couch, scrunching up his nose in confusion.

“Of course I don’t,” Janus said, “It’s not like you made us watch it every other week - interchanged with The Nightmare Before Christmas - without fail since Thomas first watched it or anything.”

He couldn’t help but delight in the way that Virgil’s face flushed red, despite him hurrying to join Janus by the couch. 

“I had almost forgotten about that,” Virgil admitted, “I’ve barely watched it since being over here.”

“I haven’t watched it since you left,” Janus sighed, “I highly doubt I remember the plot.”

Virgil smiled tentatively, “I’ll probably fall asleep before it finishes… but… that just means we’ll have to watch it again at some point, right?”

“Of course, let's take this opportunity to watch it now, shall we?” Janus said, summoning the DVD case in one hand whilst offering the other to Virgil. There was a long second of hesitation during which Janus could almost feel his world crumbling around him as Virgil didn’t take his hand, for a second he thought this must have been a trick, to have a relationship he wished for so badly dangled in his face and then snatched away again at the last second.

But no, that couldn’t be right, Virgil might be sarcastic, mean at times, but he wasn’t cruel and he certainly wasn’t dishonest enough to pull such a stunt so sincerely. Which meant…

“Are you alright?” Janus asked gently, taking back his hand. 

“Oh yeah, Yeah i’m okay,” Virgil lied, Janus raised an eyebrow, “Okay fine, no I- when I left I just- sorta maybe convinced myself that you guys hated me and I just- I didn’t expect you to be so… I definitely didn’t expect you to remember my favourite film, or- or want to cuddle while we watched it.”

“It’s not like I expected you to be any kinder towards me,” Janus replied, face going soft, “But… maybe it’s safe to say neither of us actually hate each other?”

Virgil snorted, “Yeah uh- maybe not, I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Janus answered, “And I’m sorry too, honestly.”

There was a second where Virgil just took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “Thank you, I forgive you too.”

“Good,” Janus smiled, putting the DVD into the player before sitting down on the couch, patting the seat next to him in invitation, “Because we’ve missed a lot of weekends - so we’d better make up for all the lost viewing time, hm?”

“I think we’d get bored if we watched it that much,” Virgil couldn’t help but laugh, flopping down on the couch next to him and immediately leaning into his side, and God had Janus missed this. 

“Perhaps,” Janus nodded. 

“Maybe if you actually came to the movie nights we tried to invite you to we’d have more things to watch,” Virgil murmured as Janus pressed play. 

“You tried to invite me to movie nights?” Janus asked, tilting his head. 

“Yeah - we all took turns knocking on your door every time we did one, you never answered.”

“...oh.”

“Now shut up, the film’s starting.”

Neither of them made it halfway through the film before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

-----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 @goldnskyart (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 5

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

You and I were Fireworks by percyspandapillowpet

“Eleven fifty-eight,” he said, and when he tilted his head back up, his eyes were sparkling. “There’s still enough time to go see the fireworks,” Nico realized aloud. “Do you want to…” Will shook his head, expression unchanging. “Nah. Fireworks are overrated. I’d rather stay here with you.”

look one thing this author can nail is SWEET. also will with his seltzer made me smile idk why but it did. im just a huge fan of slice of life stories and this is such a cute one!!

2. Love Wins by percysandapillowpet

“I’ll be right there!” he shouted, and the knocking stopped. On a count of three, he managed to push the duvet off his arms and legs and let his feet fall to the floor. He glanced down at what he was wearing—a black t-shirt and flannel pants, that would have to do—and walked over to the door. “What do you want, Solace?” he asked, pulling it open. Will was all smiles and sunshine. “Did you hear?” Nico narrowed his eyes. “Hear what? If this is some big event, then no, because I’ve been asleep like a normal person.” Will might as well have been jumping up and down, he looked so excited. “Nico, they did it! The Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage for the entire country! This morning!”

i read this fic in 2017 actually. and i REMEMBER how huge 2015 was; i'm canadian but it was massive. i was 12/13ish so i was in percy jackson back then too, and i remember reading DOZENS of fics that came out right after. this was so huge and this fic captures that :)

3. I Think You're My Best Friend by percyspandapillowpet

“You know what always makes cleaning more fun?” Will asked, sweeping a pile of dust and dirt into the center of the room. “What?” Nico replied, trying to hold back a smile. He found himself doing that a lot these days, too. Will set his broom down against one of the cots that lined the wall. “Music!”

this one made me melt bc personally....if someone called me their favourite i would never ever recover. never ever. and i love short & sweet fics about specific interactions/moments!! and this author nails that!!

4. Darkness by percyspandapillowpet

“So,” Will says, slightly awkwardly, making Nico realize that he forgot to respond to whatever he last said. “Um, you wanted something to take your mind off things?” He pulls back from the hug just enough to see his face, holding him at arms length. “I’ve, uh, got an idea.” He’s not used to Will looking so unsure of himself. He’s always acting so overly cocky. Kiss me, Nico thinks. “What?” he asks. Will smiles, then, his confidence restored. “Let’s go for a hike.”

sweet kisses in nature....the big three boys truly know how it's done bc the way i would SWOON and crumble. also i love it when nico is so so bad at like talking to people lol. hes so real.

5. Past, Present, Future by percyspandapillowpet

“We’ll help her, okay?” Will continues. “We’ll do the best that we can. You and I both know what this feels like. We need to give her support and take care of her for a while.” He nods again, glancing at her sleeping form in the cot. She looks a little less pained, and a little more peaceful. Nico is already dreading how she might react when she wakes again. “We’ll take care of her,” he repeats.

first of all proposal fics get me literally every time. second of all i do love fics where ppl explore what theyre future might look like!!! what they might be when theyre older!! theyre so careful with each other u know.

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[final-fantasy-imagines]

Can I ask for ♡ “that’s more roses than i’ve ever seen in my life.” with Cloud for your event? 🥰

Aww, yes of course! Thank you for your request and happy Valentine's Day, dear anon! <3 Hope you enjoy the fic!

Prompt: “That’s more roses than I’ve ever seen in my life.“

Pairing: Cloud Strife x gn!reader

Red Red Roses - Cloud x gn!reader

Flowers aren’t something the people of Midgar see often. The entire city is built from cement and steel, a concrete jungle that hovers over the slums like an eerie beast, almost like it’s waiting to swallow them whole. And yet, you find a beautiful bouquet of red roses in your apartment when you return home that day.

There’s no card to tell you who sent the flowers but realistically speaking there’s only one person who has a key to your apartment. So, that means that – provided that no one climbed through your window which would be an awkward way to deliver flowers – Cloud must be the one behind the unexpected gift. 

You step closer to the flowers, taking in their sweet scent as you admire the vibrant color of their petals. They look almost velvety, and you raise your hand to brush your fingertips against them, careful not to damage the delicate flower-heads. This is truly a wonderful surprise.

But it would be even better if Cloud had stayed here instead of dropping the roses off without a word. Of course, you know that he’s not the type of guy who enjoys big romantic gestures, that he still gets flustered about these things, even after dating for almost two years now. And it’s not even a big deal because that’s just how he is, and you love him, his quirks and flaws included, but you can’t help but wonder why he hasn’t given the flowers to you personally. 

After all, Valentine’s Day only comes once a year. And it’s an important date for most couples.

But then again, you don’t really have a reason to be upset. After all, Cloud somehow managed to get his hands on a huge bouquet of roses, a flower that becomes rarer and rarer in Midgar. 

With a sigh, you pull out your phone to send him a quick text to thank him for the flowers. It’s only then that you realize that you have three missed calls and two unread message – all from Cloud. Your heartbeat is speeding up as you tap on the screen to open the first text.

“I wanted to surprise you but you weren’t home, sorry that I didn’t wait for you. Tifa needed my help back in the slums. I hope you like the flowers,” you read before you tap on the second message: “I love you.”

A smile flashes over your face. “That stupid idiot,” you mumble to yourself, already scrolling through your contacts to call him, “that stupid, adorable idiot.”

The dial tone gets interrupted by noise at the other end of the line, followed by a muffled curse, then, you hear a breathless voice saying: “Hello?”

“Am I interrupting something?” you ask, clearly amused. “I can call again later.”

“No,” Cloud says, quick like a shot, and when you don’t reply, he adds, “we have to change the water filters at the bar – again – but that damn thing got stuck somewhere. But it’s really nothing that can’t wait for a couple of minutes.”

He clears his throat. “So, um… I assume you found the flowers?”

“Yes, thank you. They’re stunning” you say. “I was just wondering… where did you get them? That’s more roses than I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Cloud chuckles. “I have some connections.”

“Thought so.” You bit your bottom lip, darting another glance at the roses. “Cloud?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we can see each other again soon? I want to thank you in person.”

“I can come over once we’re done here,” Cloud suggests after a brief moment of silence, the tone of his voice unusually soft now. You smile, although of course he can’t see you. “Yes. I’d love that.”

“Good. Oh, and, (Y/N)… Happy Valentine’s Day. I love you.”

Your smile grows wider, and you have to resist the urge to squeal with joy as you press the phone closer to your ear. Even after all this time, you still haven’t gotten used to him saying these three words to you. 

“I love you, too.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider liking, reblogging and/or leaving feedback. I'd really appreciate the support! <3

Taglist: @sixdaysofsilverashes @theimaginaryheir @thevoidwriting

[eggymf-archived]

no place like home;

ft. garreth weasley with f!reader/mc (one-shot)

themes: hurt to comfort, angst to fluff, established relationship, aged-up characters, post-hogwarts, fiance!garreth, ex!dark!mc, slytherin!mc, 3rd person pov

warning: two idiots in love arguing, mc being the bigger idiot for once, implied traumatic events, implied violence, not spoiler-free, get a load of this sap

summary: she couldn't bear to make him suffer with every horrific danger that constantly chases her, hence she decides to run away one rainy summer night.

word count: 3.2k

a/n: happy weasley wednesday! this is my first entry and fic of garreth actually. i’ve decided to frankenstein the [lyric prompts] sent by @applinsandoranges​​ a while back along with the weekly prompt for weasley wednesday, “wet”. also, if you have read these two smut oneshots (pt.1 and pt.2), this fic features the same mc (just older). that aside, enjoy? :D

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

bonus: audio

It was during the summer of 1892 — the year when they finally graduated from Hogwarts. 

She never expected to be given the privilege of spending the summer after her 7th year with Garreth. It was undoubtedly what she truly needed: an opportunity to escape from the utter chaos of the life she has within her own family home in London: specifically her father's seething wrath after that stunt she had pulled, which almost destroyed their own family’s stellar reputation within the wizarding world's pureblood society. 

Family drama aside, not only was it the perfect time for her to rest and recuperate, but it was also the chance for her to contemplate the future now that she has broken free from the shackles of her responsibility as an heiress (temporarily, that is). Perhaps in the midst of it all, she could also make amends for her past wrongdoings.

Oh, but [what on Earth can atone for all the wrong things that she had done]? 

It wasn’t an easy task, to say the least, for the blood that was spilled on her hands all in the name of the greater good has long stained her psyche. There was an insurmountable amount of filth that resides within her as the vessel of accumulated pain, and all she could do was endure the ordeal. The moment she had made that dire decision in the repository during her 5th year, she was doomed to a life of loneliness, but all of that changed during her 7th year when the threads of her own fate were intertwined with his.

She never would've expected that Garreth Weasley out of all people would serve as the beacon that would lead her back to all that had been long forgotten — her own happiness. 

Truth be told, she wasn't the most forthcoming with the notion of romance in general due to her unsavory experiences and personal issues, opting to steer clear of the entire topic in general. In fact, she was better off alone, but for some miraculous reason, the fiery-haired male had managed to creep into her heart, taking his rightful seat on its long-abandoned throne. It was truly a mysterious outcome, for nobody would've foreseen the unusual relationship to even happen, much less prosper.  

A Slytherin and a Gryffindor; the celebrated hero and an aspiring potioneer. They were like day and night; the sun and the moon — ever so different, yet fell in love too soon. Perhaps the irony of it all was what truly brought the both of them together, regardless of all their atrocities, differences, and follies combined. 

But even the greatest of love stories always had their own fair share of trials and tribulations, and the silly, dramatic little tale of her and Garreth weren't an exception. She remembered it all vividly: the times when she'd discourage him from pursuing her, only for her to fall harder and harder for him in the end.

��You'll never know peace a day in your life once you decide to be with me, Weasley.”

“I'm not good for anyone, lest you want a head full of gray hairs before you reach the age of forty.”

“You're better off without me, I assure you.”

“Garreth, please don't. I'll ruin your life.”

Yet her words, no matter how grim, threatening, or incessant, would always be met with his adorably goofy little grin along with the same simple reply that held the undying promise of his devotion and loyalty.

“I know.”

If only things were that simple.

From this moment onwards, ["I know" is never good enough] — not when she's aware of the dire consequences that would soon follow should she decide to pursue the yearnings of her poor, naïve heart. It was too huge a risk to gamble the life of the man who had brought her solace and joy amidst the pandemonium that rages within her blackened soul, for he was all she had left — the only person who would never treat her as a pawn across the chessboard; her most trusted confidant, companion, and lover: her chosen family.  

The musical incantation of Vulnera Sanentur from his Aunt Matilda's lips was all that she heard whilst she silently wallowed in her own thoughts of self-blame, her eyes darting around the damaged parts of their humble abode out of pure guilt. She glances at Garreth's father, who winces as several hands aided him to sit more comfortably on the sofa. His younger sister and older cousins scampered around to repair the several damages within the house whilst checking up on the others after the incident.

It was an ambush by dark wizards: the ones who sought to covet the corrupted power within her. Despite her not being a family member of the Weasleys, they fought gallantly alongside her, defending her as if she was one of their own. Although they are well capable of empathizing and understanding her prior violent display of magic within the heat of battle, it did not quell the bubbling shame that stews within her being. 

It was almost the norm for her to be targeted by the enemies that she had made in her past battles, but to be attacked while she was in Garreth's family home? To put the Weasleys in danger? Preposterous. Utterly preposterous. She'd never forgive her enemies for it. Hell, she'd never forgive herself for it either. 

The warmth of Garreth's palm on her arm startled her from her train of thought whilst she was in the middle of repairing the broken walls, offering her a kiss on her forehead the moment her head turned. 

“Garreth…” her voice, uncharacteristically small and hesitant, trails off while he cups her cheek, tracing his thumb over her delicate face as a form of reassurance.

“It’s not your fault, so please don’t think about it too much, alright? We’ll handle it from here,” he reassures.

Despite her evident disagreement with her fiancé's words, she bit her tongue, not wishing to add any more fuel to the fire. She gave the Weasleys one final glance as she headed to the kitchen to help his mother prepare their dinner for tonight while the others focused on either healing their mild injuries or fixing the damages within their house.

The Weasleys were a beautiful family. It was the ideal family that she would truly love to be a part of in a heartbeat: they were kind-hearted, selfless, and honorable, never swayed by the adversaries that came their way. It was for this very reason that she decided to protect them with all that she has, and she would never allow a single soul to harm even the hairs on their head even if it means that she has to bring herself out of the picture in the end.

Thus, she has made her final decision. 

[She's only safe when she's alone], just as they'd be a whole lot safer without her presence. She could easily slaughter anyone who stood in her way without fear of disappointing anyone with her ruthlessness, and none of her loved ones would be used as ammunition to make her submit to her enemies’ bidding. This painful choice was truly for the best — such as the fate of all fallen “heroes” who walk a lonely, dark path.

Yet despite all the danger he'd have to face and the sought-after coalesced filth of humanity that literally resides within her, her departure was Garreth’s greatest fear.

It was on the same day of the incident that he received the heartbreaking news in the middle of that particular rainy night. His sister was about to pay her a visit for their usual heart-to-heart session, only to find out that she was no longer in their home.

“Gone? What do you mean she’s gone?!” he bellowed, fear lacing his voice as he sped towards the guest room with soft footsteps trailing after him.

“Garreth, I'm sorry. I went to her room and—”

Not giving his younger sister a chance to finish, Garreth barged into the guest room with evident panic, only for his heart to sink at the sight of a room that was entirely bare of her belongings except for a note that she had hurriedly scrawled before she left.

I'm sorry. I love you.

Garreth quickly ran down the flight of stairs and straight to the exit of their home. The shouts and cries of his name fell on deaf ears as he bolted out of the house, racing into the chilly night with a million panicked thoughts buzzing unpleasantly within his head as raindrops drizzled upon his form.

[She had his heart, and he could only hope that she wouldn't hurt him] permanently with one measly written goodbye. He was angry and dismayed with her drastic decisions that lacked his consultation, but he simply couldn't allow all that they'd built to just disintegrate in a blink of an eye. She was, after all, his dearly beloved — the person he'd give his all without a second thought.

As soon as the thunder rumbled, he hurriedly took out the piece of parchment that she had left, casting a tracking charm with his wand. The piece of paper immediately bursts forward, leaving a trail of glittering golden dust for him to follow before the increasingly damp piece of parchment falls to the ground. The spell worked, and it only meant that she hadn't wandered off too far.

He knew exactly where she was from where the trail was heading. With the location clearly visualized within his mind, he apparates to their usual spot, hoping that she was still within the particular vicinity.

Needless to say, he was right.

There she stood in front of the tree where they often frequented for their usual picnics — the place where it's usually just the two of them, gazing upon the meadows of the countryside whilst enjoying the summer breeze. She looks upon the ring that was on her left hand, admiring the ruby and two small diamonds that glimmered under the moonlight. With great reluctance, she attempts to slide her engagement ring off, intending to keep it within their box of little keepsakes before she leaves, which was contained within the tree's hollow.

Amidst the soothing pitter-patter of raindrops, the sound of an audible crack was soon heard from a distance followed by several thuds of footsteps, effectively stopping her. She whips her head in the direction of the sudden noise, only for her eyes to meet a pair of emerald-green orbs. 

[Sometimes, she forgets that she was his] — he'd always find her wherever she may be simply because he knew her that well. She should've expected that he'd figure out her whereabouts within minutes after she had left the Weasley family home. He was, after all, her dearly beloved — the keeper of her heart; the one who knows her better than herself.

“Blast, I shouldn't have loitered around…” she thought ruefully as she faced him completely, a shaky breath escaping her lips as she braced herself for an earful. Instead, he runs towards her with a relieved expression, pulling her into his embrace before kissing her fervently. 

As if it were right on cue, the rain began to pour harder, just like those dramatic little romance novels written by Muggle authors. His touch, although scorching against her cold, damp skin, brought relief to her mind, body, and soul. 

It was only he could bring her such solace, nobody else.

As soon as his lips parted from hers, he grabbed her bag nearby before turning to her direction once again with a tired sigh. Before she could retaliate, he swung his arm around her, engulfing her in his arms before apparating back to his home — specifically into the living room, where the rest of the family was awaiting their return. A blush crept up to her cheeks upon feeling their eyes on her and Garreth, who held her by her waist. The both of them were soaked to the bone with their clothes and strands of their hair clinging uncomfortably onto their skin.

Wordlessly, Garreth set her bag on the ground before flicking the tip of his wand at both of them, casting a drying spell before making his way to the kitchen. She winced at his deathly silence, while the others glanced at each other with an evident grimace as well.

“... Alright, you lot! Off to bed, we go. Come along now!” his mother urges, pushing the other family members right towards the staircase, much to his younger sister's and cousins' chagrin.

“But mum—!”

“Shhh!”

She received several apologetic looks and pats of good luck from his cousins, for she was obviously going to need it. Garreth was upset — abysmally upset to be precise. It was a rare occurrence, but whenever it happens, it was a painful punch to the gut.

Silence looms over the living room, the thumping of footsteps dying out as they scamper to their bedrooms, leaving her and Garreth alone on the first floor of their home.

“Garreth…”

Silence.

“Garreth, please say something?” she pleads, all to no avail. He remains tight-lipped, averting his gaze from her as he grabs the nearby teapot to pour each of them a cup of tea.

She hated it when he was like this, but his reticence was definitely warranted. She sighs in defeat, finally deciding to stop beating about the bush.

“... The attack from earlier—”

“—Was, again, not your fault. And you ran away because you didn't want any of us to get hurt. I know that,” he cuts her off bitterly before he sips his cup of tea in hopes of calming himself down. 

“Then you're aware of the dangers, Garreth. You've seen what they're capable of. You've experienced it for yourself.”

“Yes. So?”

“So why did you bring me back? You know that chaos ensues whenever I'm around, and it's never the good kind.”

“Really, now? Seems like a pretty peaceful night to me until you decided to leave,” he sarcastically snapped, much to her exasperation.

“Garreth, for god's sake—”

He slams his cup on the countertop, nearly shattering the object. His frown deepened, finally looking at her with a glare.

“A note with no explanations? Sneaking out right under my nose? Is that how trivial our relationship is to you?” he asks with a tone mixed with anger and hurt. She visibly pales at this, panic evident within her eyes that he would even think of such a thing.

“Garreth that's not—”

“—what you meant? Oh, believe me, I know. But it certainly feels that way and it's really upsetting. I'm not mad though. I could never be mad at you, but I'm sick and tired of you pushing me away at every bloody inconvenience!”

“I'm doing this for your sake! As long as I'm around, you and your family will always be—”

“I didn't ask you to play hero for us!”

“So you'd rather thoughtlessly sacrifice everyone else just to keep me around?!”

“YOU'RE MY FIANCEE FOR GODRIC'S SAKE!” 

She was stunned into silence by his raging outburst, all retaliations within her head immediately disappearing as he ran his mouth, pouring out every single trace of frustration that had accumulated within his chest.

“Don't you know you're just as important as everyone else in here?! I know what I signed up for — mum knows, dad knows, my little sister knows, every single relative knows! You're already a part of this family at this point!” he continues exasperatedly, running his fingers through his hair out of sheer agitation. “Gods, you’re always like this! I hate that you feel the need to constantly tell me I shouldn’t be with you! I’m still here, aren’t I? Is that not enough for you?!”

She looks away, letting out a shaky exhale while she clenches her fists, her eyes becoming glassy with tears. His heart was thumping loudly, his chest heaving as his emotional hurt slowly descended from its peak. His glare soon faltered the moment he realized the aggression of his words, his fiery anger slowly dissipating as he stared at her with guilt simmering within his gut. Her eyes were downcast while she chewed on her lip, desperately keeping her emotions under wraps while placing her arms gingerly around herself to soothe her nerves.

With an aggravated sigh, he gently pulled her into a warm embrace. She whimpers at his display of tenderness despite the prior exchange of heated words, finally letting her tears run free as she wraps her arms around his waist, a string of apologies pouring out from her lips. He pressed his lips at the side of her head before parting from her as he cupped her face with both of his hands.

“Darling, listen to me. Look at me.”

She acquiesced, her bleary sight slowly trailing up to meet his verdant-hued eyes, which gazed upon her with pure love and adoration despite his recent display of anger. 

“I know I may not be the best man for you, but you best believe that I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe. When I swore to you that I'll accompany you to the ends of the earth, I meant every single word,” he whispers with heartfelt sincerity, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. “But all I ask of you is to please have a bit of faith in me; in us — that we’ll manage all of this just fine. Please, I love you too much to let you go...”

“But… Your family…” she meekly sobs.

“Then we'll live alone together, just the two of us.”

“But what about you?”

“Then I'll be stronger for you! Hell, I'll beg Sallow to teach me how to duel better if I have to so please…” he begs, his voice cracking. 

“Don't ever leave again. Stay with me until the very end.”

At that moment, she finally caves into her heart's desire, standing on her tiptoes to urgently plant her lips on his without hesitation while his hand flew to the small of her back, the other placing itself at the back of her head to press her further into him. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally parted, gazing at each other's eyes with a smile of relief etched onto their faces. A surprised yelp escaped her lips as he scoops her up into a bridal carry, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

“Well then, now that's done and settled, let's get you to bed, shall we?” he grins, his anger completely appeased by her response.

“At least let me bring my bag upstairs first, love. I need my clothes,” she laughs.

“Clothes? For what?”

“...To change in?”

“Oh, trust me. You won't be needing them tonight,” his voice drops into a teasing whisper. 

Her eyes widened, warmth creeping to her cheeks at his insinuation. He chuckled at her reaction, planting a kiss on her cheek before heading upstairs with her in his arms. The tense aura that loomed over the entire building was now completely gone, her soft giggles of sheer elation filling the halls before a peaceful silence ensued the moment the door to her room was closed shut.

Like the moon and stars that reside in the night skies, this was where she truly belongs — right in the arms of her dearly beloved; her most cherished abode.

[be-my-ally]

The first meeting, and other firsts.

An Empty Promises chapter! Crossposted on ao3.

Fic 1 references events that are technically sandwiched between two sections of this one but the main events there take place after this, and on the phone comes after both.

So this series is a little like my baby… and I’ve had this half-written for ~ six weeks while I became distracted with literally everything else. It’s entirely self-indulgent - just finally giving some backstory to fic 1 and on the phone. I have two later smutty, shorts in the works too - because, honestly, Elvis just constantly wants to spank reader (who is a whole 5/6 years younger than me so is ABSOLUTELY not an author insert, no way…) and uh, I really don’t have a problem with that. 

pairing: fem!reader x elvis (1964-5)

warnings: 18+, slight innocence kink, little bit of daddy kink, oral (p + v receiving) ... elvis reads reader's diary.

wc: 11.6k

You’d noticed him hanging around the past couple of nights, although you’d done your best to ignore him. It was difficult. His characteristic pretty face and charm drawing you in. He’d barely been through the door when you’d recognised him. Recognition came and with it, the sudden spike of adrenaline and nerves that made you almost too anxious to acknowledge him. You’d barely just had the courage to wave hello the first time, pleased that he was seated far enough down the counter that he was Louise’s responsibility and not yours - you weren’t sure you’d have been able to get yourself together as quickly as she had. He’d stayed for a single cup of coffee, black - although the envious looks he’d given to the cream and sugar on the table made you suspect this was learned behaviour rather than a true preference, looking like perhaps he had just wanted a few private moments to himself, before leaving pretty quickly and quietly. You assumed that was the first and last time you’d get to see him up close. You’d lain awake that night, regretting everything, wondering what could have been - at the very least you could have had a signed napkin or something. He’d been right there, you’d been able to see the comb-marks in his hair, where the strands had been split, the tiniest hint of a lighter brown at his roots, you’d been able to see his eyelashes - fluttering in pleasure at the heat of his drink. You couldn’t deny you’d studied him, even if you hadn’t managed to bring yourself to talk to him. Somehow though it had worked to your advantage; it must have been part of the reason he came back so many times in the following week - that so little fuss was being made of him in your quiet little diner. 

The second time he’d come in with a group - all men, that had burst through the doors loudly; you’d looked up to frown at them for making such a racket when you’d noticed him in the middle of the crush. He’d looked up at you and you’d smiled shyly, your knees wobbling less this second time. You’d still had to take a deep breath before coming around to the two booths they’d squished themselves into, building yourself up for the faux nonchalant air you hoped you could give off. You’d managed to make it through their order without embarrassing yourself, although you know you blushed when you overheard one of them asking if they should “take out that pretty waitress?” You were the only one still working out front. But whoever had said it never materialised at the counter - and they’d left as raucously as they’d arrived not long after.  

The third time he was drawing attention to himself - not intentionally but he had come at a far busier time of the day than the strange hours he’d come in in the past and well, he was pretty conspicuous despite his clear efforts to look smaller. Still, he’d signed everything anyone thrust at him, and had seemingly happily chatted and flirted with the girls that flocked around him. You felt awkward that you had a desire to join the gaggle of girls surrounding him, embarrassed now that you’d seen him not once, not twice but three times, and never said a word directly to him, to go over and ask for something as trivial as his autograph. Louise had left a little over ten minutes ago though, and with her the other girls who had turned out to be her friends, and now he was alone and you could see his cup was empty. You took a deep breath before heading over with the coffee jug to offer him a refill. 

“Uh, would you, sorry - hello, would, could I - would you like another refill?” You tentatively manage to spit out, your hand shaking slightly. You pointedly don’t look directly at his face, staring at the cup on the table. He sounds amused when he replies; 

“That’s mighty kind of you honey, thanks.” You go to pour, immediately splashing some on the table - although thankfully not on him. Although that may have been more becuase of his quick reflexes shifting his legs quickly out of the way.

“Oh, no, oh - gosh, sorry, let me just grab a -”  You wipe it up with a napkin as you cringe, but when you start to walk away he grabs your wrist before it could leave the table. 

“Could you - stay a while? I’ve been trying to catch you alone.” It’s the first time you look at him properly, and your breath catches in your throat, he’s so pretty. It’s startling to see him up close in person, so used to seeing it through the glass of a television screen or inanimate on a record sleeve - to watch his face change, his nostrils move as he breathes, his hair shift as his head moves is as intimate a thing as you could think. As you study him you notice that maybe the difference is in the makeup; the ability to see his pores, or the softer hair, falling into his face but either way he looks younger than he usually does. But at the same time, more solid, less transient and three dimensional - you can’t imagine refusing him a thing, especially with his eyes staring into yours, so much bluer than they looked on the screen. You nod, and he gestures to the seat in front of him. 

“If - if someone comes in I’ll have to go - I can’t, I’m saving for college -” You look around nervously as you take the seat, but there’s just an elderly couple in the back corner booth and a workman on a stool - no-one who needed assistance or who hadn’t been served. He nods, agreeing, as if he could possibly understand the desire to keep a job out of necessity. So you sit there and talk. He’s polite, in that wonderfully southern way, but you can tell from the way his eyes glint, and the corners of his mouth turn that he’s also got a mischievous side that he’s trying to repress - that he’s trying to impress you somehow. It makes you squirm in the booth seat - how on earth could Elvis - Elvis who a few months ago was rumoured to be dating Ann-Margret be possibly trying to impress you? You don’t even know how he’s been managing to sneak around, be so on his own, how there’s not bodyguards and press. You’re a little town just outside of Memphis so it wasn’t like it was far for him to travel for a hint of anonymity, if that was what he was trying to achieve. But why he’s even in town at the moment is a mystery to you - shouldn’t he be off in Hollywood filming, or doing press? Why would a man of his age and position would even be interested in you. Sure, you’ve got enough self-awareness to know you’re okay looking - with enough make-up and your hair done you’re usually pretty satisfied; but you’re not California - not movie-star cute! Still, somehow he makes you forget your self-doubt when you’re lost watching his lips move as he talks. He looks you directly in the eyes, so hard that you’re always the first to look away, it’s difficult to handle the intensity of his gaze. But he’s chatty and kind, and doesn’t wholly monopolise the conversation - although you wouldn’t mind if he had; his life endlessly more entertaining than your own. So, despite your slight discomfort and nerves you sit there, and talk, and your celebrity crush rapidly blossoms into a real life crush right in your chest in real-time. 

A week later, you’re going mad - falling hard. Even though you berate yourself for it - for getting ahead of yourself, for falling so easily - for so many reasons. You’ve seen him twice more at the diner, and by sitting elsewhere from the other boys, and ensuring he speaks only to you, he’s made it pretty clear you were his main purpose in coming. You would regret the fact that he’s not been coming in everyday, cursing whatever kept him, if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve spoken to him on the phone every night. Sometimes twice a day, often little inane chats that mean nothing, but somehow everything. 

You’ve never had a boy who talked to you like he did, like you were his friend. You wonder if you should find it weirder, that he likes this kind of talk, the kind of talk that you know how to do. You’ve always found boys so different - you’ve never known what to say to them. Found it awkward to know what to say without being accused of flirting, or alternatively being too aloof. But with him it’s easy - you chat about your days, he asks you what you’re wearing, what you’re thinking - he asks you about your friends, the daily dramas and who’s seeing who now; despite only knowing of them for such a short time he always seems interested in what you have to say. It’s novel in so many ways, to have someone care what you have to say, your parents were supportive but dismissive and you often felt on the fringes with your friends. Although you notice, but don’t think too much of it - his voice distraction enough, that whenever you try to bring up anything of a more serious nature, perhaps something you’d read in the paper he always tells you the same thing;

“That’s not for you to worry about darlin’.” So you don’t, in fact you stop worrying about a lot. He seems to be taking care of a lot of things for you.

He’s charming and handsome and flashy - famous, in a way that you struggle to wrap your head around. Wealthy in a way you can barely comprehend - he’s already sent you flowers and expensive dresses and had, just yesterday, palmed you a little box with a wonderfully thin, gold chain and heart pendant. Jewellery - jewellery for a girl he’s just met. And you know you’re getting ahead of yourself, you’ve only really known him a week or so but suddenly you find yourself hoping when he calls you doll, or baby or little girl that you’re his doll or baby, or that actually you’d be his girl. You know its too early and if she wasn’t already then your momma would be worried about you catching feelings this fast but you just can’t help it he’s just so, so… everything. 

You’re leaving work, slightly later than usual and you hurry across the dark parking lot towards the sidewalk that would lead you to the short walk home. But when you’re halfway across you suddenly notice that he’s waiting for you, leaning against his car. He’s dressed up in black on black, his hair slicked up and back, and he looks so sleek and suave and just plain attractive that your tummy flips when you see him. You do a double take, not expecting to see him stood there so casually and you rush over to him. He kisses you on the cheek in greeting, like an adult - which, you think, you are but it still felt like you were playing grown-up most of the time, and you can feel the blush rising on your cheeks where his lips had touched you. His light hold on your waist. It’s the first time he’d done anything quite so obviously romantic. He opens the door and gestures you in,

“Thought I’d take you out?” You agree easily, it’s not too late that you’ll be expected home and even if you were there was no way you’d turn down this chance. But as you sit down and he goes around the car the thought pops into your head that maybe he didn’t mean any of it romantically, after all, why would he want to take you out? You’re probably misinterpreting everything. You silently panic, until, as he starts to drive away he glances over and grins at you; one of those grins where he looks more boy-next-door than movie star, and reaches over to pick up your hand, holding it in his and placing them, entwined, on his thigh. It’s that exact moment, as you stare at your joined hands, that you know you’re ruined. You’d give him whatever he wanted if it meant he’d continue to grip your hand in his like that. That there’s no coming back from this now - even if he only means to play with you or toy with your feelings you’d allow him, that if he wanted you to be his girl at home, like you’d heard he’d had - or one of his easy girlfriends, you’d agree. You’d agree to whatever tiny scrap of attention he would bestow on you that might recapture the tummy-flipping excitement, the immense happiness of having his attention on you.

He takes you out for a simple dinner, you’re actually a little surprised, he’d assured you that your dress was fine (although you were thankful you’d changed out of your uniform) so you weren’t expecting too much, but you were still surprised it wasn’t anywhere fancy but just simple good food, that he’d clearly enjoyed with gusto and a Pepsi to wash it down with. But, as you’re growing to know and understand him a little better you’re starting to realise that often it’s the simple things that remind him of home that he likes the most - he’d almost cried at a slice of pie in the diner, saying it tasted just like one that his mother liked. And now, dinner over, you sit there in a dress he’d sent you only a day before, that you’d decided against saving for best when another had arrived the next day, slightly lost for words. What do you even have to say to him that could interest him? He teases you about this, clearly understanding or simply used to girls going silent around him;  

“What’s keepin’ you so quiet tonight? You just too busy thinking how cute I am?” He grins at you like a little boy, and you can’t help but return it. You relax, teasing him back, 

“No - just thinking about how I should shimmy out the window in the bathroom.” He looks shocked for a a second before breaking out into infectious laughter; clearly not expecting the response. When you both stop giggling he puts his hand on the table, palm up, and waits for you to put your hand in his. When you do, he clasps it tight, turning it over, and examining your hand - he tuts at the bitten nails, but flips it back over without mentioning them further. He holds onto you when he speaks next. 

“I want to make it really clear baby, in case I haven’t been so far. I don’t want you to misunderstand. I, -uh, I really think I could like you a lot, and I wanna get to know you more. I think I already do, doll, but I - I really think I’m already fallin’ for you a little. I’d like to do this again - take you out, and the like?” You hesitate he’s so overwhelmingly in a different world to you that you can’t imagine why he’s suggesting this - as much as you want to agree. You worry your lip as you think of what to say, his eyes boring into you. 

“You won’t… you won’t be ashamed to be seen out with me? I’m a waitress Elvis, and I’m not even in college yet - I’m not like those other girls, I’m not an actress or anything; and I don’t wanna be.” He shakes his head, 

“I’ve had them other girls honey, and I want you.” You look down at your still intertwined hands and you don’t know why you’re acting like you don’t know how you’re going to respond. 

“Sure Elvis, sure, we can - give getting to know each other a go.” You want to question him, ask him about the other girls you hear he has, hasn’t he brought that girl over from Germany? But you can’t bring yourself to mention it, slightly worried that it might remind him of something, make him rescind the offer.

He wordlessly picks up the check, leaving ample cash although he made you simultaneously frown and laugh at the absurdity of it all when he confesses that he had no idea how much he left and that he doesn’t usually carry his own cash so he has no idea how much anything costs anymore. He opens the door for you as you leave, keeping his hand on the small of your back the whole time, and asks 

“So what’dya say? Wanna come back with me - be my girl? Wanna take you home?” You stop, in the parking lot. That wasn’t quite what you’d discussed before. 

“You want me to be your girl El? You sure?” He nods, hurrying back to grip your hands in both of his, looking at you deep into your eyes, pleading with you.

“Want you to be all mine baby, want you to come back to Graceland with me, we can play house honey, we can - look, I just - I take care of what’s mine and I just want you… want to treat you real nice.  You won’t have to save or work anymore - you can, you can just do whatever you like.” It’s far more than you’d considered possible, but his blue eyes were so convincing and a tiny furrow forms in his brow that you just want to smooth out by any means possible. You almost don’t consider the implications of what he’s offering - far more than his girl, he’s offering you everything. 

“Well, ok then.” He pauses with his hand on your car door handle, still holding one of your hands, 

“Well, you don’t sound too enthus’astic ‘bout it.” He doesn’t sound pleased, and it causes butterflies to immediately form in your stomach worried that you’ve upset him - you’re desperate to reassure him - to please him again and you shake your head, 

“No, no, I am, I promise - it’s beyond my wildest dreams, but uh- it’s just, you’re gonna have to convince my daddy yet first. He still wants me to go ta college - you know, make a real woman of myself, and I don’t see how that fits.” He smiles with utter confidence; 

“Don’t-ya go worrying that little head of yours on that, I’ll deal with all that when it comes round to it.” He kisses your knuckles, before opening the door and pushing you in, walking around to the other side. You’d noticed before that he liked to touch you - it seemed to be his way, indiscriminately brushing his fingers over whatever he could reach. But now that you’d given him some form of permission his hand doesn’t leave your thigh the whole drive home, except for a moment when he catches your hand again, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss against your knuckles before bringing them together onto his thigh again. Much the same as the journey there.

You’ve never had this casual closeness with a boy before. Your tummy is flipping nervously the whole drive home - you can tell it’s entirely normal to him, and you don’t want to give off the impression that you aren’t also used to it. It feels grown-up, adult, in the same way that his kisses on your cheek hello make you feel mature despite your age. You don’t realise he can tell this, in the shifting of your legs beside him, the way that you hold his hand a little too tight. And you also can’t tell that he likes this, but he does. He pulls up, half a block away from your house. 

“Don’t want the neighbours peepin’ baby, or your Pa comin’ out here with a shotgun.” He offers as an explanation when you look over at him puzzled. You wonder what on earth for, when he’s leaning an arm over the back of the seat, and wrapping it around you, pulling you in closer. Your thigh starting to overlap his. He looks down at you, at your lips, and you look back at his, nervous all of a sudden. 

“Are you gonna, you gonna kiss me Elvis?” You whisper, nervously. He nods, 

“If,” he rubs his neck a little bashfully, “If that’s alright with you, honey, I sure would like to.” You rush out an agreement, curling into his hold. He presses a hand to cup your chin, fingers brushing your neck, and brings your heads closer together. He smiles when you’re close and you’re almost giddy with excitement - you still can’t believe you’re about to kiss Elvis, and you’re trying not to think too hard about it, or worry yourself, but he grasps hold of you, in complete control, and suddenly you’re utterly confident that the situation - that you are in safe hands. When your lips finally do touch it’s not like a kiss you’ve ever had before, although you’d only had two, but in comparison it’s not at all like the wet slimy kiss of Trevor or the tentative pecks of Bobby - it’s soft but unyielding and damp but not wet. It’s how you think it should feel, being kissed. You imagine it’s how champagne feels, the fizz building up in you. It makes you want to get up on the seat, kneel closer, as close as possible, it makes you feel alive. Your eyes close and you’re lost in the sensations as you contemplate who it is you are kissing, and consider how he got so good at it. He’s a gentleman, not forcing anything into or on you, just going with what you’re signalling. It makes you squirm in your seat against him, tingles being sent from your chest to your stomach. He leaves you chasing him, breathing heavily still and leaning across the front seat, when he pulls back. He presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before leaning back again. You sit like that for a few minutes, his arm still wrapped around you, leaning against his chest. You would have expected your mind to be racing, but strangely you’re calm, and can’t think of much beyond how much you enjoyed that, how much you can’t wait to do it again. After a little while he shifts you slightly, although his arm remains wrapped around yours and he wordlessly puts the car back into drive, coasting down to to pull up to your house. He gets out when you arrive, rushing around to open your door for you, and you pretend to be calm about it but inside you’re screaming, “Oh god, he kisses like that and he’s still such a gentleman - such a nice boy.” He presses a kiss to your cheek before sending you off to the front door, 

“Next time I come through - I’ll come in baby, wanna see your little room, but for now I’ll call ya honey,” You nod, looking back at him sliding into the car again,

“You promise El?” He looks back at you through the open window, holding his fingers up in a scout salute,

“I swear it baby, I’ll give you a call tomorrow.” 

By the time you collapse into bed, your mind alight with the events of the evening, you still can’t quite believe it. You look around the room - trying to picture Elvis stood there, it’s difficult to picture him amongst your school awards still on the wall. Or laying on your bed - your stuffed animals dotted around. Still, you think as you snuggle down into your comforter, soon you won’t need to imagine - he’d promised you. 

——

It’s just barely a week later, and you’re having a rare few days off from the diner while they were closed for renovations - a fact you were particularly happy about when you received a phone call from Elvis letting you know he was ten minutes away and asking if you were alone. You had of course immediately agreed, although afterwards panicked in having such little time to prepare, thankful that your mother had gone to visit her sister today while your father was at work. 

You rush to open the door when you hear him knock, thankful that he’d rang ahead to warn you that he was passing by and that you’d had the small chance to tidy up a little, and freshen yourself up even if it was in a hurry. You couldn’t help but just stand there when you opened it, still in shock at seeing Elvis stood there on your doorstep - tight trousers and short sleeve blue shirt slightly open, looking like he’d just stepped off of a film set. He lets you gawp for a second, face filling with mirth before interjecting a moment later -

“Well…, aren’t ya gonna invite me in?” You stared, but nodded and you open the door all the way but before you can take a step back he was squeezing past you, apologising as he brushed against you as he walked in. You peer out of the door before you shut it tightly - trying to make sure no neighbours had been watching him come in, unaccompanied, into your house when they surely knew your parents would be out. When you turn around you catch him glancing around your entrance way, peering his head through the archways into the kitchen and living room and he nods approvingly, 

“Nice little place you got here doll.” You smile, pleased that he approves but also slightly embarrassed at his qualifier - you know it’s small, nothing special, your parents never had much money to spare although you were always treated well. 

“Oh well, I know it’s not like - like where you live but …” He interrupts you before you can go any further, shaking his head.

“Oh no, no, honey. You misunnerstand me - up til a couple’a years ago I’d dream about a lil house like this one - we never had much either.” 

You smile back at his bashful expression. “Oh well, then. Glad you like it!” You do a little curtsey, and then immediately inwardly cringe. Why on earth did you just bob like that. He smiles at you, as if you’ve somehow just endeared yourself to him further but then glances up at the stairs,

“So, uh, you gonna show me your room?” He nods his head at the stairs and you giggle back at him, teasing him. 

“My! How forward you are Mr Presley. Wanting to see a girl’s room before you’ve even taken her on a second date!” He winks at you, before taking the stairs two at a time, his forearms flexing as he grips the handrail. You’re not even wholly sure what is so attractive about it but you can’t resist simply watching the back of him, trousers and shirt tight on his skin, as he runs up.

“Yep! That’s me, now you gonna make me guess or you coming up too?” You laugh, following him up the stairs - suddenly nervous about its girlish decoration; you’re an adult (although admittedly, only just) but you take comfort in the familiarity of your childhood room, the same patch of stain from the nail varnish you spilt when you were thirteen, the marks on the doorjamb tracking your height, the familiar bed linen - a mismatched selection from all your major life stages, one pillowcase from a set when you were seven, another from when you were twelve, underneath your newest ‘grown-up’ set. The quilt your mother made you atop it all. You rush ahead of him to nervously lead him to the door and turn back to apologise about the childish decor only to flush, watching him inspect the wooden letters on your door - oh god, how embarrassing - you start to stutter out an explanation, 

“Oh gosh, they’ve been there so long I forget they’re there - I don’t know why we even bothered with them, there’s only one of …” but your apologies falter on your lips as you watch him trace them almost reverently.

“I like ‘em baby - ’s cute, lets everyone know where you are. Could have found your door all on my own.” He turns his attention back to you and the room and you watch him take it all in. He glances over at your bookshelves, school books still stacked in them, and over at your bed with the little painted daisies on the wooden frame, the pile of teddy bears at the foot. He sneaks a peek over at your dresser and you follow his eyes where you see a scrap of white hanging half out of the drawer, your own eyes widen and you rush to close it with faux nonchalance from a knock with your hip. 

He smirks watching you, but ignores it and you watch him go to take a closer look at your desk. You perch on the bed, waiting for him to have looked his fill and turn his attention from the room to you, but he’s distracted by something on your desk. He picks up a leaf of writing paper from where you’d left it out - to dry - your daddy won’t buy you the fancy paper with the designs already on it just to send to your friends who live right around the corner so you paint them on yourself; little trailing leaves and flowers on the borders. You freeze as he stares, examining your doodles with a little furrow in his brow - he can’t possibly remember. 

“Say…doll, haven’t I received a letter like this?” Surely not. You had hoped when you’d sent it he would read them but you hadn’t really expected him to - fully assuming most fan letters would be tossed out pretty much as soon as they were received. You certainly never would have expected him to remember a letter that if you remember rightly yourself was sent over a year ago. You stutter out a response, 

“Oh, oh, no, no. I think you must be mistaken, no, no I would nev-“ He interrupts you, completely ignoring your protestations. 

“Yeah, yeah I remember, wasn’t it something like,” He puts on a high-pitched voice in an attempt at imitating you, “My mama won’t let me play your records anymore, says you’re a … what was it, a bad influence maybe?” He shrugs,  “Seems to be most of the time anyway.” He laughs and then continues, gesturing with his hands, pacing in front of you “ ’S all coming back to me now, didn’t it go ‘but, when they leave I always put you back on the player, I just can’t help myself - your voice makes me feel things, I tingle.’ ”He returns to his normal voice again, “Weren’t it somethin’ like that?” You cringe away from his laughing eyes, you can only think to protest it but you know as soon as you open your mouth you’ll give it away but you try to do the best you can, 

“Wow - I don’t think that was me, but do you really remember so many?”  He laughs at your attempt, shaking his head. 

“Yeah honey, I remember all the real cute ones doll. especially ones that say ‘sometimes I touch myself and think of you!’ Lord! What would your mama think of that!” You squirm, mortified. 

“Oh no, no I really think you must be mistaken!” He smirks at you. Putting the sheet of paper back down - he stalks towards you and crowds you on the bed. You lean back and he follows, placing his body almost entirely over you, forcing you to lie almost completely back. You think he’s about to kiss you and your eyes fall shut in anticipation only to feel him move away a moment later - the pillow moving behind you causing your head to slip lower. 

“Well - let’s see shall we?” You blink your eyes open and they immediately widen as you see what he’s holding - the diary from under your pillow. You sit up, reaching out for it. 

“Oh no! Elvis! No - no, give it back!” He holds it above your head laughing as he pushes you back, keeping it out of your arms reach the whole time. 

“Oh, no, no no.” He’s laughing at your struggles, “Gotta check my sources! See if you’re lyin’ to me little girl. One of these days you girls will find a different hiding place, gotta make the most of it.” He manages to grab hold of your wrist holding it across your body, catching the other between the two of you - pinning you against him - his chest on your back, and holding you with ease. He flicks the book open as you cringe against him. As if it couldn’t get any worse it immediately opens to a page addressed not, as you normally did, to ‘dear diary’ but to one of a few that you’d written ‘dear Elvis,’ across the top. You moan as you can feel the delight radiating off of him. 

“Now then - looks like we won’t have to search very hard! Ooh hoo hoo!” he crows at you - “Oh my!” he fakes outrage, humming as he reads the page - you hope against hope it’s the one where you explain that you’d snuck out to see a film of his your mother had banned you from, and not a different particularly memorable entry. 

“No way! Elvis - this ain’t funny no more! You gotta, gotta let go of me. Give me the damn book back!” He laughs at you, 

“Now, now don’t you be getting too big for your britches little girl, I ain’t afraid to soap that mouth out.” He tickles your side and you giggle, although you feel a sudden surge of heat run through you, as you finally manage to break free. “No, no, where’dya think you’re going.” He sits on the bed patting his thigh and grabbing your wrist again pulling you around. “Back here on daddy’s knee, gonna read you a little story.” You squirm, but nonetheless sit where you’re told. You can’t deny, despite your mild embarrassment, that you’re enjoying yourself. 

“Now it goes something like this - ‘Dear Elvis, Today was a rough day at school, Susie and Bryce started going steady and she told me she let him touch her in his car last night! Even though she knows I liked Bryce last year!’ I never will understand why girls get so caught up in liking someone who someone else once liked - why does it matter? Anyway, ‘I worry sometimes that I’ll never find someone who wants to go steady with me. I’m just not pretty enough, or tall enough. Or maybe it’s just because everyone knows I’m going to college.’” 

You cringe at his reading out of your inane chatter, and you’re pleased when he hums and seems to be skipping along the page - hoping against hope he was growing bored. But you can feel his sudden smugness, and you just know that written on the page is not a story about you sneaking out to go and see Viva Las Vegas. 

“Oooh, here’s where it gets good little, ‘This evening I went around to Natalie’s place - her parents were out, and she put on your new single, she was trying to convince me that the Beatles were so much better, but I think we’re just gonna have to disagree - they’re not even attractive.’ Well darling, at least I’ve got that going for me.” He laughs. “ ‘The thing is though, on the single there’s another song that I’ve heard before, but I don’t think I’d noticed the end -  you make all these noises and I don’t really understand what happened but after I got home my panties were so damp through that I had to change them! Just from your voice!’ You start to squirm again, knowing what he’s about to read, 

“Elvis - I really think, this is enough now - this is private, I don’t -” He just talks louder over you though, 

“ ‘I’m still really wet, in fact, but that’s probably more to do with the fact that I couldn’t help but touch myself. Even though I heard the pastor say it’s a sin.’”  His voice is dipping lower as he talks and his hand is brushing your upper thigh close to where you can feel the heat rising from within you, both from a hint of shame but mostly from arousal. His voice is deep and low in his chest and it hits you while you sit there that you’re on Elvis’ lap which makes you squirm all by itself. 

He hushes you, “Shh, darling, not done yet, hold still.” And he holds you by his grip on your waist, fingertips gently stroking your side. You can feel his own heat burning against your leg, and you suddenly realise that’s his penis. A man’s cock growing against your own warm heat. You’re not as innocent as you were in that entry a year ago, but you’re not experienced yourself at all and pretty much all of your knowledge is secondhand from your girlfriend’s and their older sisters. You wriggle again, “Now, now let me finish.” He coughs dramatically, flicking the pages out as you whine. 

“ ‘Sometimes I touch myself and I slip a finger in, I know I’m not supposed to but I just can’t help myself just thinking of you - of what you could do to me, god I’d do anything to be touched by you, just once.’ ” He skims the rest of the page, and softly closes the book, “Well baby, how does it feel to be touched by me?” His hands rub up your thighs and your eyes slip closed in pleasure as he watches your reaction, nudging them so far up that he’s almost brushing your panties. Your tummy flips, almost on the verge of being nauseous, as you try to catalogue the feelings. He removes his hands and you open your eyes catching your breath, but then he’s leaning back and pulling you down with him. He kisses you, in a way that you’ve never been kissed before, all tongue and teeth.

Then, he starts to kiss down your neck. You’ve never thought of any part of you as super sensitive but suddenly it feels like all your nerve endings are alight, feeling sparks as his lips trail down to your collarbone. You wiggle against him, feeling his large hand span across your back, fingertips pressing in as you push closer to where his leg has slipped between yours. Unable to stop yourself grinding against him a little bit. Your dress catches slightly and it means that for a brief moment the only thing between your warm wetness and his trouser leg are your thin cotton panties and you can feel the rough fabric rub against you, an involuntary moan escaping you. 

 “Baby, you gettin’ that feelin’ again?” You nod frantically, and he laughs - “Well,” he looks over at the alarm clock on your bedside table, “I don’t reckon we’ve got time to do anything about it now - not got time for you to finish -  not before your parents get home.” You stare at him, blinking owlishly, you know, you know how babies are made, you’re not stupid, know that men can do things about it but - 

“What…What do you mean? You can…do things about it? I can… finish?” He groans, his head falling back against the pillows. 

“Oh!” He groans again, “Lord help me - yeah baby, yeah you can - can make you feel real good; you never? When you told me you touched yourself - it never felt… better?” You shake your head at him, 

“I never got very far - didn’t have a clue what I should be doing and it made me awful hot and sweaty, and and it felt terribly tight and I wasn’t sure if I was meant to be and my parents are only the other side of this wall.” He moans so hard it’s almost a keen, swearing; 

“Oh God. Oh goddamn. I swear, we haven’t got time now, really don’t have time but I’ll see you real soon, come back over when your mama and papa are home, gotta few things to discuss with them, then when I’ve got you all to myself I’ll teach you. Show you how you do it.” You immediately brighten up, forgetting your embarrassment in your excitement. 

“Oh would you! I thought there must be something to it, but maybe it was just - just something some people did and some didn’t. ” You lean back down, catching his lips again. But then you pause suddenly, your insides twisting for a different reason, “Um, but Elvis, I don’t - don’t want you to get uh expectations or be dis’pointed, I’m not, not sure if I’m - I’m not sure I’m ready for, for sex. I’m not, not sure I wanna before, before I get hitched.” He looks in your eyes for a second before nodding, 

“No darling, I know. Don’t you worry about it, that’s good, little one, you’re such a good girl for me - just gonna wait until the time is right huh, daddy’ll know when that is sweetheart, don’t you worry about that at all.” You can tell, looking straight into his eyes, that he’s being sincere and something in you relaxes. He pulls you back in for a slightly more chaste kiss, moving his thigh just enough to resettle the pressure and cause you to rut against him again. He lets you rub against him again for a moment before sitting up and pulling away. 

“Now baby,” he starts with a plea in his voice, “how’s about you let me have a little somethin’ - just to …uh tide me over in the meanwhile?” You furrow your brow, unsure what you have to offer him, 

“Well sure, maybe, I mean I don’t have -“ He jumps in before you can say anything else, interrupting you and talking fast like he’d been planning his moment on when to ask for this thing - like it was something he’d been thinking a while. Like a child sat on Santa’s knee, desperate to convey their desires. 

“Could I have whatever it was peeking out of your drawer earlier?” You flush bright red from the chest up, surely he knows - 

“Elvis! Those - those were my, my panties!” He grins wolfishly, mischievously at you, 

“Well I know that doll, why’d you think I want ‘em?” You stand up to go and get them, although you still can’t imagine why on earth he’d want them. 

“Here ya are - they’re not. Not special or nothing - but sure. I suppose.” He glows at you, and you’re still embarrassed but can’t help beaming back at him, watching him tuck them securely in his pant pocket. He stands up, looking over at the clock again. 

“Really gotta go now honey,” You nod back at him a little sadly and start to head down the stairs with him. At the threshold to the front door he pushes a hand against it, preventing you from opening it for a moment and instead curls a hand around your waist, pulling you towards him again. You look up at him biting your lip a little, he pulls it from your mouth and keeps a hold of it with two fingers, 

“You behave now ’til I see you again, alright baby?” He looks sternly at you, but his eyes are bright, playful, and although you can’t even imagine what he thinks counts as misbehaviour nor how on earth he would know anyhow but still you nod; 

“Of course!” He leans down to you - far more chastely than before, just a simple press of his lips on yours.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” You nod again, and he leaves. You breath a sigh of relief as you close the door behind him, watching him hop into his, oh gosh, wow, totally inconspicuous, bright Cadillac all you can think is god, you can’t wait to put this in your diary. 

——

The night you moved into Graceland was nerve-wracking. It had been scary enough to be introduced to his father, to his grandmother, but you were also terrified for other reasons. You knew that he hadn’t pressured you before but surely he’d want something in return for having you in his house. For keeping you. But you were wrong again. You’d gone to bed that night, anxiously peering at his ludicrously decorated bedroom when he’d led you in, and he’d tucked you in and pulled you into his arms with nothing more than a chaste kiss on the forehead. Since that first day, he touches you all the time, so physically affectionate that even though you knew it was genuine it felt like he was going out of his way for some reason. Just so that he might brush against you, or have to place his hands on your waist and move you. Anywhere you were sat, he or you would be practically on top of the other, his hand on your thigh or your hand being placed on his. He holds you, all night long, and it’s only the second night when you anxiously kiss him, desperate to at least make-out like you had been doing back home. He allows it, but pushes you away when you reach for anything further, tucking your hands into one of his and pulling you close, lulling you to sleep with your head close to his heartbeat. 

The end of that first week was memorable for several reasons. The first, and the cause for the rest of them, was that he’d thrown the first party since you’d been at Graceland. You’d enjoyed yourself immensely - getting dressed up with him - he’d even helped you with your makeup, steady hand tracing your eyeliner. And the night itself had been magical, stuck by his side as he effectively showed you off - dancing together and meeting his friends. He’d been roped into singing and his clear enjoyment of the night had only increased your own. The second reason you found it memorable was that before the party you’d opened the wardrobe in your room and discovered an entire rail of new dresses, all perfectly sized to your exact measurements and style. The third was Elvis slightly tipsy (despite him not allowing you to have more than a sip) or perhaps just high off a good night, clutching you to him, your back to his chest and whispering in your ear; 

“You just gotta, gotta say no if you don’t wanna, darling. Not gonna push you - ‘m not like that I promise.” He punctuated his point with a hand rubbing over your stomach, gently, soothingly. You’d stilled at his words, and he’d followed it up with, “Wanna…go upstairs? Let me teach you a few things?” You’d paused in your turning around, and he’d moved his head closer to yours, his lips practically touching your ears. He’d kissed the patch of skin just below as he’d continued; “Be my good girl? Let me show you how?” He’d brushed his other hand down your arm, gently, and you’d been pulling away and up the stairs before he could say goodnight to the others. 

Which took you to now, stood in the middle of the bedroom, uncertain really as to what you should be doing. Should you get undressed? Take off your shoes at least? A moment later he’s entering himself, and shuts the door behind himself before striding over to you, capturing your mouth with his. His hands brush against you, but seem to gently hover, and it’s not until you make a little whine does he press them against you, holding you close with a hand on your back, the other coming to cup your cheek and chin. His tongue slips into yours, and you moan as you come up onto your tiptoes, desperate to stay as close to him as possible. He bends further, kissing your cheek and down your neck, sucking down when he reaches your exposed collarbone. You lean into him even further and he wraps both arms around your middle lifting you up, and carrying you over to the bed, even as his head was still buried in the crook of your neck. You can feel the skin rising, burning and stinging as he bites down, leaving a purple bruise where he had been, feel his soft, gentle tongue lapping at it and easing the sting as you let out tiny noises of pain and pleasure. 

He puts you down, laying you back, and one of his hands comes around to your waist, stroking across your stomach. It feels like his fingers are burning through your dress, and his fingers - though slender and delicate when you see them on a steering wheel or holding one of his cigarillos, feel huge and heavy as they span your tummy. He kisses you again and you arch into him, and when he pulls back his lips are wet and redder than usual, plump and pillowy soft. Yours feel bitten and sore, tender in the best way. He sits up, pulling his hand out from underneath you, and you gaze up at him. He groans as he looks back at you, 

“Oh lord, sweetheart, don’t look at me like that.” You raise onto your elbows, 

“Like what?” He doesn’t reply, but looks away and takes a breath, when he turns back to you his eyes are bright with playfulness.

“Right, dolly, time to let daddy play with you,” You don’t know why that flips your tummy, if it’s his use of ‘daddy’ in this context, or ‘play’ or even him calling you not just a doll, but a dolly. But it does. He pulls you up, and turns you, deft fingers unbuttoning the back of your dress’ bodice as he does so, leaning down to press precious little kisses - no more than gentle touches of his lips - down your back when he exposes each tiny sliver of skin. He reaches the skirt, unhooking the button and lowering the zip at the waistband, allowing it to fall open and he eases the little straps off your shoulders. The dress falls to the floor, and you step out of it, you’re immediately self-conscious stood there in just your slip, in its almost sheer silkiness, but its not long before he’s hooking his fingers into the hem, and pulling it up and over your head. He stares for a moment, at you stand there in just your soft cotton bra and panties and you wrap an arm around your middle. He frowns, 

“Don’t, don’t hide from me. Just let me look at you.” You blink at him, lowering your arm although a blush rises up from your chest. 

“ ’S emnbarassin’ E,” He shakes his head at you, tsking as he does. 

“Nothing embarrassing about it baby, letting your daddy look at you like such a good girl.” He glances at your panties, staring for long enough that you shift a little, “I love white, you got more like that? Or do I hafta go out and buy you some more?” You wonder what’s going to happen to these, but you know that the majority of your underwear drawer looks the same. 

“No, no, they’re… most of ‘em are like this,” He groans, and has seemingly reached his limit for keeping his hands off of you, moving to touch your hips and run his fingers over your newly bared skin. Goosebumps break out as he touches you and you shiver at the contact. He pats your stomach, before running his hand down to the top of your waistband. He runs his fingers over it, gently, feeling where the fabric rests atop your soft springy curls, and then steps back again. He goes to strip off himself, having discarded his jacket somewhere downstairs - untucking his shirt and pulling it off. As his chest is revealed you can feel your face flaming again - as if it wasn’t already seriously red. He laughs when he looks over at you, 

“God baby, you can’t have any blood left in your body - ’sall in your little pink cheeks.”

 He throws the shirt to the chair in the corner of the room. He pushes his trousers down, confidently stepping out, he doesn’t kick them aside like you expected a boy might, instead bending, giving you a perfect view of his naked backside, to pick them up, folding them in half and slinging them over the same chair as his shirt. You feel free to ogle at him, considering he had done the same mere minutes before and you’re stuck wondering how people go about the day knowing this is what people looked like under their clothes. You never believed it would be something that you would find especially attractive, you knew men commented on women and girl’s behinds but you never thought it happened in reverse, didn’t think you’d suddenly be overcome with the urge to sink your teeth into the soft flesh there. 

When he turns around you can’t help but stare straight at his crotch. You’d seen one before, in your biology textbook and once in a magazine that Natalie’s brother had stolen from their father that you’d all crowded around and giggled at, although not for very long before you’d had to quickly replace it as you heard his father’s car on the driveway. But never had you seen one in real life. You’d felt one, through a boy’s pants as you’d sat on his lap at the diner, you’d felt Elvis’ in fact in much the same way, but even when he’d gently stroked you over your panties you’d never gone so far to touch him unclothed, or even through a fabric layer. You didn’t really know what to expect. But his cock was rosy and already stood a little to attention, where it didn’t seem nearly as intimidating as you’d always expected them to be. Somehow, even without having anything to compare it to you could just tell it was a pretty. You immediately reach out a curious hand, and as he steps towards you, looking amused, you wish you could stop the words tumbling out of your mouth; 

“Gosh - I’ve uh, I’ve never seen one in real life….” You try to stem your burning curiosity but you can’t stop yourself “What’s it feel like? Can I, can I touch it?” You pause, remembering your manners,  “Please?” He nods laughing and gets himself within reaching distance of you. He places his hand over yours, gently gripping them together, his palm on the top of your hand and guides it towards him. You’re surprised at how smooth it feels, you don’t know why, you didn’t expect it to feel so soft although it’s also a little wrinkly almost and  you’re slightly surprised because he seems to have more skin there than the guy in the magazine - it encases just below the head of his cock which is now popping out of the little folds. He lets go and your hand just rests there for a moment, before you squeeze a little, releasing and running your fingers gently over it. 

““El, that’s, it’s so soft.” He laughs at you, pupils dilating as he looks at your fingers dancing over him. 

“Not for much longer doll,” and he guides your fingers back to him. 

“That’s it baby, nice and gentle,” You continue to stroke him, briefly, before he’s putting his hand back down, pulling yours off, “Just need, sorry baby, I know this is dirty, but just need, a lil help here. You gonna wrap your hand around me?” You nod, confused as to why he’s turning your palm up, “Ok, honey, I just need a little, needs ta be a little wetter.” He looks you in the eyes, almost like he’s asking permission, for what though you don’t know - but clearly whatever he was looking for he found because he’s pulling your hand closer to his face. You’re stunned, mouth open, when he brings it to his mouth and licks it, a damp wet stripe being left, before pulling back and spitting straight into it. You recoil a little, but your thighs clench as your core jolts. You blink at him, still shocked, as he pulls you back to his cock, wrapping your now wet hand around him again. 

“Ok baby, that’s it, that it’s not too tight now baby, that’s it - oh, just there,” When you brush a thumb over the end of him he moans, so you do it again, and stroke just behind it. “Just a little tighter - oh lord - just make that yittle fist a little tighter darling, up and down now, oh that’s it.” You follow his instructions, and his hips jerk a little in response, you can see his stomach muscles under his soft layer of gentle fat clenching and tightening in pleasure. “God, what a clever girl you are. Learnin’ so fast.” You continue for a moment, until his cock is fully to attention, practically bobbing against his stomach. 

“You wanna, wanna say a proper hello to him? Gonna give him a little hello kiss? Go on baby, he’s waiting for you - say hello to little Elvis. He’s so excited to meet you.” And admittedly little Elvis bobs as if he’d overhead the conversation, and from the leaking from the tip he does look excited to meet you. So you obediently bend over to press a little kiss to his rosy pink head. He lets out a little groan, that seemed almost involuntary and he apologises as he pushes you onto your knees in front of him, 

“Not really right to do this to a girl - but uh, I suppose, if you’re my dolly, then… it’s fine right?” You don’t have any experience in what you’re about to do, but you’re not so sheltered that you don’t have any semblance of understanding of the act - and you have nothing against it, so you nod again, once again stunned momentarily silent by his surprising actions. You look up at him, from between his slightly spread legs - peering up at his tight chest and nipples, to his smooth, visible, neck to where his blue eyes are practically burning a hole into you. You swallow before trying to find your voice again; 

“It’s more than fine,” You pause for a moment before considering what he’d said earlier, “daddy.” He moans, his leg jiggling a little, and you watch as little Elvis twitches in response. 

“So you’re gonna be a good little girl now, right? Do as I tell you?” You nod, he exhales, slowly before starting to instruct you.“You can start by taking just the very end into your mouth, just hold it there for a second.” You do as he says, leaning forward with your mouth, and he sucks a breath in, loudly, as you brush your lips against his tip. You go to move down a little more, and he stops you with hand on your head, “Just, just give me a second, honey, gods, you feel so fucking good.” You still - “If you wanna, you can just, just reach down below, darling, gotta treat all of me nice - just - that’s it baby, nice and gentle with them little fingers.” He praises you as you reach around to fondle at his balls for the first time. He pushes a little further into your mouth, before pulling out most of the way - telling you now, 

“Need you to just, just lick me a little baby, no, no - keep it in your mouth, just move your tongue around a bit, oh lord, that’s it right there baby,” He makes a high-pitched whine that you can feel rush through your body from where you’re connected. He puts his other hand around to poke at your cheeks, “Look up at me, that’s it.” He moves his hand to pull yours from his thigh and wraps it around the base of his cock. “Go on, what you can’t get in your mouth you can keep touching.” A moment passes, and he’s telling you, “ Ok hollow your cheeks little one, gonna suck me in, then you’re gonna just relax and let me, let me just fuck that throat and mouth of yours.” You follow his instructions, and he grasps the back of your head to keep you bobbing on him at the exact pace he wants.

“Now, now baby, since its your first time, you haven’t, haven’t gotta swallow it if you don’t wanna - but you may as well have a little taste - don’t want, don’t want it going anywhere but down your little throat in future.”  He holds your neck, keeping you in place, as he thrusts into you - practically into your throat although he’s careful not to go too deep, but you still struggle to breathe a little. He grows slightly more erratic as he chases his pleasure and you’re glad when he pulls back so that just the head is still in your mouth, letting you take a deeper breath in. 

When he shouts, “Oh god, that’s a good baby, fuck, fuck doll, I’m cumming baby,” you’re able to just have the tip in your mouth - which makes it easier to hold his cum without choking on it. You taste a little before pulling back, holding it in your mouth, your tongue recoiling from the texture. He hands you a handkerchief, embroidered with E.P on the corner, telling you slightly huffily, “Ok, that’s it, just spit it out there.” You do, embarrassed at the unladylike behaviour, and he takes it from you looking at it with distaste as he balls it up and flings it in the direction of the ensuite. 

He looks down at you, “You did so good baby, such a quick learner aren’t you! So good!” You can’t help but squirm, your own arousal peaking with the butterflies in your belly again, pleased with yourself, but then slightly worried when he strokes your cheek, expression not as soft as before before starting to haul you up from your knees. Barely giving you time to stand before pushing you backwards onto his bed. “But next time, honey, I’m not havin’ you spit it out whenever wherever ok? So you’re just gonna have to learn to take what I give you.” You’re wide-eyed looking at him, you’re not entirely sure that’s something you want, but he does know best, and you’re desperate to please him so all you can do is nod and agree. 

“Uh-huh, of course, just - just gotta get used to it I guess daddy,” He hums back at you, pushing you to lie flat on your back. 

“Mmhmm. Ri-ght, ok, baby, your turn now, just lie back and let daddy take care of you.” He pauses, as if remembering something - “Daddy’s gonna get serious now, give you a real introduction - make you finish.” He smooths his hands down the sides of your chest and stomach, goosebumps forming as his fingertips trail down, until he reaches your thighs, where he pulls them up, so your knees are bent and your legs spread. He bends down, holding your thighs down and open, to press a kiss to the fabric separating his mouth and your body. He, laps at it, sucking at the material - the wet spot that was already there growing larger as he adds his damp spit. You wriggle about but he keeps you in place with one hand on a thigh, holding you open, and the other on your stomach, a solid weight pinning you in place. Your panties have gone practically see through by the time he leans back, looks down, and hooks two fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and off of your thighs. He looks at them for a moment, at the combination of his spit and your sticky wetness coating the other side before throwing them also in the direction of the chair. 

“They’re mine now too baby.” You shake your head at him - you’ll have no underwear left at this rate. 

“Elvis. You’ve already had a pair. I don’t know what you want them for anyway! Told you that last time!” 

“You’re mine aren’t you?” You nod, you’ve been moved into his house haven’t you? How much more obvious do you need to be? “Well then, they’re mine too.” You gape at him, you can’t really deny his slightly misguided logic - not without setting yourself up for failure. You go to protest again, but he hushes you, “Stop arguin’ with me, little girl, not gonna get you nowhere.” He pushes your thighs back apart, “I ain’t gonna start something I can’t finish,” and your final protest dies on your lips when he presses a kiss against your mound. He moves his lips down, gently placing another kiss at the top of your vulva. 

He licks a stripe down you, opening you up with his tongue, you can feel a gush of wetness at the act, and it seems that he could as well as you feel him smile against you before spearing his tongue a little way into you. He strokes your inner thighs, tickling the little fold where your legs meet your body. You shift to be able to look down at him. He’s been running his hands through his hair too much while you’d been getting him off that it’s no longer slicked up and back, but fluffy and gentle as you move your own hands to clutch at him. You pull gently, and he leans back just enough to look up at you through his dark, eyelashes at you. The sight makes you clench, and when your head goes backwards again, after he moves a finger to swirl around your clit, moving ever closer to the exact spot, you suddenly catch sight of the back of his head in the mirror on the wall opposite. You let out a noise you’d never heard yourself make before and you can’t take your eyes off of him. From the angle, you can’t see much below his shoulders - but it’s enough to send you, along with the physical stimulation, teetering towards the edge. When he finally, moves his finger to touch you directly your hips thrust up of their own accord, and you grind down on him when your body returns to the bed. His lips return to you, and he laughs as he reaches up to blindly pat at your face, he pulls back laughing - “Your lips cold baby? Or my hand hot?” You stutter out a response, really not certain of the relevance of the question, 

“I, I don’t know! But can you, Elvis I’m so close, daddy please.” He shakes his head smiling and returns to your pussy with renewed vigour - firmly licking you out and playing with you. You can’t think of anything but the sensations, of how slippery you are, of how wet and soft while simultaneously gently rough his tongue is. He shies away from slipping a finger in, simply teasing around your entrance - although this reticence isn’t shared with his tongue which continues to fuck into you at a rapid pace. 

You squirm, feeling suddenly desperate - although for what you didn’t know. He holds you right at the precipice for a moment, and you thrash, tense, until he resumes the exact same licking pattern as before, rubbing at your clit as he does and its like you’ve been released, shuddering and shouting out his name; 

“Oh god - Elvis, daddy, that’s - unnh-” Your words cut off into non-verbal noises, huffing out quick breaths and moans as your body quivers. He finally pulls away after you’ve gone stiff in the bed, letting your body relax back from its arched position as you struggle to catch your breath. He runs his fingers over your folds, “God you’re so wet baby,” you squirm, feeling it cool into a thin stickiness on your thighs. He kisses your thigh, spreading the wetness from his lips, whispering - “Such a good girl for me baby - you like that? Your first one?” You can’t do much more than nod in response as you tremble lying there but you manage to murmur out, 

“Yes, god, yes I liked it.” He hums at you, 

“Well go on then baby, say thank you to daddy. Don’t forget your manners now.” You gasp, heat flooding you again although you’re too tired to want to do anything about it. 

“…Tha-Thank you daddy.” He kisses the top of your mound in response and pats at you one last time, before he heaves himself up and leaves. When he comes back he’s dressed in a set of black silk satin pyjamas, carrying a little nightgown for you. He dresses you like you were the dolly he described before, manhandling you into the nightie. He rolls you off of the comforter, allowing him to pull the covers out so that he can clamber in underneath, cuddling you into him. He cocoons you in his arms, clutching at you, and you suddenly feel safe and secure after abruptly feeling unmoored. A tear slips out, for reasons that you’re not quite sure of, and he tuts, holding your head to his chest. It’s not long before you, listening to his steady heartbeat, fall fast sleep.

[kmgkmg]

YES NO MAYBE - JEON WONWOO

word count: 1.7k…

pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader

synopsis: wonwoo sits down for an interview after his pictorial to answer some questions, what he wasn't expecting was you to be the one interviewing him.

genre/s: angst, idol!wonwoo, ex!wonwoo, magazine editor!reader

warnings: none!

rating: pg

a/n: submission for k-label's firsts for everything event! the title and fic are inspired by bae suzy's solo debut with yes no maybe! while the title track is def the biggest inspiration, i relied on all of the mini album since it's one of my absolute favorites of kpop. also leaned into iu's discography a lot and ending scene was another inspiration. thank you @gyusangels and @hwasangelbaby for being the beta readers!

Wonwoo’s steps can be heard against the floor as he enters the studio. People are still shuffling about busily, setting up before the shoot officially starts. Next to the clothing racks, various conceptual pictures are taped all along the wall. He scans the pictures, trying his best to get a grasp of what vibe he had to emulate for the day. 

The continuous clicking sounds of the camera’s shutter rings in Wonwoo’s ears while the flashes of light hurt his eyes. On top of that, the studio booms with loud music to set the mood for the shoot. With each flash, Wonwoo subtly readjusts himself to a new pose. Five outfit changes along with five different hairstyles and makeup looks. Exhausted is an understatement. The shoot proceeds for nearly three hours before finally getting the last shot approved by the magazine’s staff. 

“You were absolutely terrific!” The enthusiastic photographer praises Wonwoo and Wonwoo immediately turns bashful. He’s weak to compliments, especially when the cameras are turned off.  

His manager approaches him with a water bottle and a handheld fan. 

“Are we done for the day then?” Wonwoo asks after sipping and starts to take the uncomfortable jacket off.

His manager avoids his eyes, an indication to Wonwoo that the day was not over. “You still have the Q&A video to film. Their Chief Editor is interviewing you.”

He pats his manager’s shoulder, reassuring him to not worry. “Q&A videos are a breeze! What do you want to grab for lunch afterwards?”

“Today’s weather is perfect for…sushi?” His manager suggests. 

Wonwoo is energized by the thought of eating sushi later on. “Now that you have motivated me, this interview will be done in no time!”

“Chief Editor L/N!” One of your employees greets you, making the others aware of your presence. You are distracted by the conversation on your phone and briefly greet the employees before finishing the phone call. 

Wonwoo is already waiting at the table that the staff set up, but his eyes dart up as he looks for you. He knew you worked at Vogue, but Vogue is a huge company. He never expected that he’d run into you like this, nearly a year after you dumped him. 

You sit behind the camera wordlessly, pulling your laptop out of your work bag. Straightening your posture on the chair, you double check that the camera is recording. “Seventeen’s Wonwoo, thank you for joining us today.” 

He’s thrown off by your extremely professional behavior. Nobody knew about your past relationship besides Seventeen, but you were treating him like a complete stranger. His initial shock dies down, but it's clear on his face that he’s experiencing a rollercoaster of emotions from your presence.  

His words spill out thoughtlessly, “So, you’ve been promoted to Chief Editor?”

You exchange glances with the staff around you, all looking back at you with quizzical expressions. Double-checking the flashing red dot on the camera, you reply curtly. “Yes, I’ve been Chief Editor for about seven months. Usually the managing editor conducts the interviews, but he had a family emergency today. We’re deeply sorry that we weren’t able to inform you sooner.”  

“No need to apologize!” Wonwoo replies, becoming aware of his surroundings once again. Flashing a wide smile to the camera, he turns on his idol persona. Staff around the studio begin gushing about his kind behavior as you look for which fan questions to read. 

“Do you have any plans on releasing any more videos or photos for Carats?”

“I plan to hold a traveling exhibition of my photography early next year! I can’t give too much away right now, but Carats will definitely love it.” 

A smile crept onto your face, glad that the ideas he bounced off of you were coming to fruition. “Do the members still ask you to take their pictures a lot?”

He blinks his eyes rapidly, surprised at your memory. “Yes, they do! At this point, DK, The8, and I are practically the assigned Instagram photographers in the group.”

You nod, and prepare yourself to read the next comment. “Ballad lover, Jeon Wonwoo! I love your music taste so much! What song have you been hooked on lately?”

“I’ve mentioned IU a lot in the past since her music means a lot to me. Luckily, Carats really enjoyed my cover of her song Knees. These days, I’ve been listening to The Visitor by her. The melody is very catchy and the instrumental is stripped back which adds a special layer of sentimentality to the track. I especially love the lyrics for the hook. ‘Why do I still love you? Why do I sing about you? Why do I still wait for you?  Babe I love you.’” He responds, purposefully looking away from the camera and instead having his eyes fixate on you. 

His longing gaze goes unnoticed by you as you type a note to the video editor to add IU’s in song during post production. “Wonwoo, I’m addicted to books like you! Which books are the most newly purchased in your library?”

“Book Park Lounge had a sale a week ago! I bought about eight new books? Greek Lessons by the author Han Kang has been insanely interesting so far. Although the novel came out in April, it was sold out in all of the bookstores around me immediately. Please, check it out if you enjoy books about the beauty of humanity. My rambling isn’t doing the book justice, just know that once you pick the book up, you won’t be able to put it down.”

You memorize the book’s title, secretly missing the reading lists he would make you. “Any recent activities you did with the members that you can share?”

Wonwoo takes a second to think, lightly tapping his fingers on the table’s surface. “Me and Minghao went to a tea tasting and blending workshop. I’ve recently been more interested in tea, so he suggested that I tag along with him. It was a really rewarding time, I got exposure to a lot of new flavors!”

“Since you made your own tea blend, do you have any tips for people that follow your steps and try making their own blends?”

“Great question!” He compliments, turning silent as he thinks of the best universally liked ingredient. “Dried rose petals are my recommendation. They are easy to add to any tea blend in my opinion, plus, the quantity that you add can customize how much you want the flavor to stand out. Minghao would probably recommend others’ first experience with tea to be a tea ceremony instead. I’ve done both and the ceremonies tend to focus on patience and maintaining steady hands.”

Hesitating to move on to the next question, you review your coworker’s email with the prewritten questions. “Do we have to ask every question here?” 

Wonwoo tilts his head in confusion, “Why not?”

“Very well. Wonwoo, have you ever regretted letting go of something or someone?” 

“Yes.” His immediate reply causes his manager to approach you and ask for it to be edited out. Wonwoo sees the interaction and tries his best to fix his mistake. “Actually, no… Well, maybe? At the time, I found myself asking a lot, what does my heart actually want? It’s strange, isn’t it? I mean how humans don’t understand their hearts at times. But by the time I realized what I wanted, it was far too late. So yes, I’m full of regret.”  

You look back at his manager, whose mouth is slightly agape over Wonwoo’s candid answer. Picking up on the manager’s flustered state, you skip to the last question. “What are your plans for the rest of the year?”

He tries his best to sound energetic again, “Well, Seventeen always tries to be as active as we can! Although a little less than half of the year is left, we will meet you very soon with new music and performances!” 

“Can you do the outro?”

“See you all next time! Subscribe, like, and comment to Vogue’s YouTube channel!” Wonwoo waves goodbye with both hands and you stand up to turn off the camera. 

He walks over to you as he stretches his arms. “Can we think about us again?”

You continue fidgeting with the camera and say in a low voice, “Wonwoo. Stop saying, let’s think about it again. You know better than anyone that we probably wouldn't last a day.”

“But, Y/N, life without you isn’t the same…” His eyes turn desperate. More eyes are on the two of you, unaware that you were so deeply acquainted with one another.  

“Follow me.” You excuse yourself from the studio with Wonwoo listening to your words.

He has a hopeful glint to his eyes now, biting down on his lip to contain his excitement. He’s at a complete loss of how to predict what you’re going to say. 

You’re shaking from the anger of his unprofessionalism. Wonwoo realizes your emotions and his face turns solemn. 

“What is with you today, Wonwoo? It’s obvious we’ll hurt each other again, so stop saying you can’t live without me. Please, just meet someone who will love you more than I did.” 

He looks down at his feet and mumbles, “You act like that is an easy task, Y/N.” 

“Wonwoo, I’m with someone else now. You’re the one that wanted us to date quietly and we broke up just as quietly. Now, let go of me quietly.” You request, not once faltering in front of him. 

Without giving him time to respond, you walk back towards the studio’s doors and hold one open for him. His feet move without him thinking, trudging back into the studio. 

His manager is talking to the photographer about which photos should be excluded from the final cut. Once he notices Wonwoo's return, he finishes the conversation effortlessly. 

“Ready for some sushi?”

Wonwoo takes one last look in your direction and sees you engrossed in your work as employees crowd you. Yes, he misses you more than anything. But no, he knows that you don’t feel the same. So maybe, it’s time for him to follow your wishes and let go of you. 

He clears his throat. “Yeah, let’s go.”

[kittyt-hexxed]

Hiiii! I’ve been hesitant to ask because I’m not sure if you’re in this fandom, but could you do a fic for Suki from ATLA? Definitely older cause she’s like sixteen in the series, but one where Reader is Katara/Sokka’s older sister and she instantly falls for Suki. (Reader has a thing for women who can knock her out) Have her be a secret water bender (ya know, cause Katara) and like Suki catches her bending. Reader begs her not to tell and Suki is like “only if you let me train you.”

Maybe a smut scene after practice, it’s totally up to you! But I would love it if you wrote this, I love your Arcane work! Oh! And Reader has loooong curly hair like past her butt! Thank you!

Can You Keep a Secret?

Suki x Fem!POC!Reader

Author Note: You don’t understand the excitement I felt seeing an ATLA request! Writing this helped my writer’s block, too, so thank you for that! I am in both fandoms ATLA and TLOK! I have also read the Kyoshi novels for future reference ;)

Warnings: ATLA Spoilers (Season 1, Episode 4), Young & Dumb Sokka, Older Suki, Waterbender!Reader, Accidental flashing, Cute Flirting, Teasing, Playful Training, Suki kicks your ass and you’re into it, First Time, Hickeys, Fingering, Praise/Compliments

Summary: You tried your best to hide your bending, but Suki managed to find out within a few hours. You beg her to keep the secret and she agrees… only if you let her train you.

Your head was spinning from the events that happened within the last few days. Not only did your little sister find the Avatar, but you nearly got a face full of fire! It didn’t help that you were hiding your bending ability. You wanted to drown that stupid kid for attacking your family. He was lucky that Aang came in when he did, or you would have sunk him under the ice. Then there was the heartbreaking revelation at the Air Temple… so, it’s actually relieving to you that Aang wanted to go on a little break. You were also really enjoying traveling by Bison. You really enjoyed feeling the wind in your hair. It also helped that if you found the right spot, you couldn’t hear them talking over the loudness of the wind. It was your favorite place to take a nap until you shifted over.

“Stop bugging her, airhead.” This is the first thing you hear as you tune back into the conversation, causing you to open your eyes, “You need to give girls space when they’re doing their sewing.” You raise an eyebrow at that. ‘Where did he get that from?’

“What does me being a girl have to do with sewing?” Katara asks.

“Yeah, little bro.” Sokka jolts as he realizes you’re awake and listening, “What does being a girl have to do with that?” He’s silent for a moment as he tries to figure out the words to say.

“Simple. Girls are better at fixing pants than guys, and guys are better at hunting and fighting and stuff like that.” He shrugs, “It’s just the natural order of things.” Your eyes feel like they’re going to pop out of their head as you look at your brother in disbelief.

“Really?” You say coldly, “I guess I should stop hunting then since I’m so horrible at it.”

“I’m all done with your pants and look what a great job I did!” Katara says too sweetly, tossing his pants at him. They hit him in the face and he panics, realizing that there’s still a hole in them. He looks to you for help, but you close your eyes and pretend to go back to sleep. What he said concerned you. Where did he get those ideas from when you were the main caretaker of the family? You hunted, gathered firewood, and took care of everyone. That’s why you were so reluctant to leave in the first place. Your people needed you, but Gran Gran was persuasive.

By the time you landed, you wanted nothing to do with the group. Sokka and Katara had been bickering nearly the whole time while Aang kept trying to get your sister’s attention. You found it funny at first, watching this kid try to impress your sister while not knowing how to interact with her. You were silently cheering him on but it was painful.

“I’m going to go over there. Spirits know I need a moment to myself.” You point off to the side where there is a bit more of a private area, “Don’t do anything stupid.” You pointedly look at Sokka.

“Why are you looking at me?!” Sokka protests, “You should be saying that to Katara! She’s already done stupid things!”

“Oh, really?” Katara scoffs, “Like what?” You watch them bicker for a moment before shaking your head. ‘They wonder why I’m always hunting.’

“Don’t you want to see the Elephant Koi?” Aang asks you.

“No, I’m good. I’ll check them out later since we’re camping here.” You give him a reassuring smile. You glance at the two behind him who are still arguing and roll your eyes. There wasn’t a moment where your siblings weren’t at each other’s throats. It got tiring trying to be the mediator so you stopped. You just let them hash it out. You walk away from the group, looking forward to getting a little bit of alone time.

Now in a private place, you pull off your coat and strip down to your undergarments. You would have invited Katara along but between Aang wanting to impress her and your social flame going low, you chose against it. ‘Some peace.’ You smile to yourself. You find a place to sit in the sand and get comfortable. The sand was warm, already heated up from the sun, and felt wonderful on your skin. You sigh in contentment, laying back to enjoy the area's warmth. If you were back home, you would’ve been bundled up to avoid the cold. It didn’t bother you much, but it got frustrating sometimes. Having a chance to show some skin and not have the possibility of freezing to death is wonderful. You were excited to travel the world, even if you’d miss Gran Gran back at home.

You were probably lying down for a total of five minutes before you heard screaming. Your eyes snap open and you jump up from the sand. You’re sprinting back to the group before your mind can even process it. You gasp in shock seeing a giant sea serpent chasing Aang across the water. Your fingers flex, itching to jump into the water and help him as you get to the bank with your siblings. It wasn’t necessary though as Aang comes flying out of the water and collides with Sokka. You flinch as they get thrown back into the trees.

“Sokka! Aang!” You shout, running to them with Katara. You give Sokka a concerned look seeing him slumped against a tree while Aang looked fine.

“What was that thing?” Katara questions.

“I don’t know.” Aang responds, putting his clothes on.

“It might have been a sea serpent of some kind.” You put a hand on your hip, “Dad used to warn me that some hung out in the water near the ice floes. That’s why we didn’t go there for my initiation.” They all look at you as if they just realized you were there before shouting and turning around. You blink in confusion.

“Y-Y-Y/N!” Katara shouts, her face an impressive shade of pink, “Where are your clothes?!”

“I heard screaming. There wasn’t time to put clothes on if something was wrong.” You deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’ll go get them now that I know you’re all okay.”

“Great! Then we can leave!” Sokka says, not turning back, “I am not sticking around to find out what that creature actually is.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You wave him off, turning around and heading back to where you left your clothes, “I’ll help you get ready to go once I’m dressed.” You leave them by the trees. ‘There is a lot Katara and Sokka haven’t been exposed to.’ You frown. ‘Our age differences have affected them a lot more than I would have liked. I was thirteen when we lost mom. I had more than enough time with her to learn about waterbending or go adventuring with Dad. They’ve been sheltered for far too long.’

You find the area where you left your clothes and pull your tights back on. You exhale, sad that your moment of peace has gone just as fast as it arrived. You bend down to put up your tunic, straightening up to dust the sand off and the next thing you know a figure drops down in front of you. Your feet are swept out from under you before you can react, and the person grabs you by your chest wrappings as you fall. You’re yanked forward by them, but you feel them come undone as they’re not as secure as they should have been. The gang's haste to get into the air the other day didn’t give you the time you needed to do a warrior wrap. The person in front of you gasps as the wraps fall away, suddenly spinning you around and blinding you. You let out a yelp as your chest is exposed to the air, but your tunic is on shortly after. Ropes are tied around your upper body, pinning your arms to your sides. They pick up your body, drape you over their shoulder, and start running. ‘That happened way too fast.’ You think, dazed. That couldn’t have been more than a minute. You don’t even have the words to say, honestly. You were surprised. Very surprised. Who could move like that?! The only time you moved that fast was while ice skating! Were there people who could move that fast normally? Aang didn’t count because he’s the Avatar. Who knows the extent of his abilities.

You weren’t sure how long it took, but your body was tied to something after a while. From the sounds of it, the others were right next to you so at least you don’t have to worry about that. You shift your body, trying to figure out how exactly you’re tied up. You practically jump out of your skin when you hear someone talking.

“You four have some explaining to do.” A man’s voice sounds.

“And if you don’t answer all of our questions, we’re throwing you back into the water with the Unagi.” A woman says after him.

“Show yourselves, cowards!” Comes from your idiot brother somewhere to your left.

“Oh sure, Sokka. Call the people who tied us up” the blindfold is removed from your eyes, “cowards.” You hiss, then go silent as you see a group of girls standing in front of you. The man you heard was with him, but he was the only one.

“Who are you? Where are the men who ambushed us?” Sokka demands.

“There were no men.” The woman in front scoffs, seemingly irritated by that question, “We ambushed you. Now tell us - who are you, and what are you doing here?”

“We-” You try to speak but Sokka speaks over you.

“Wait a second, there’s no way a bunch of girls took us down.” You can hear the amusement in his voice and it makes you want to smack him. How many times do you have to yell at him for him to understand that it’s not just the men in your tribe who do things? Besides, the woman was clearly agitated, and saying that would only make it worse.

“Sokka, you’ve got to be kidding me.” You sigh.

“Bunch of girls, huh?” The woman grabs Sokka by his coat and leans in threateningly, “The unagi is going to eat well tonight.”

“Please ignore my dumbass brother!” You shout, getting her attention, “He does NOT speak for the rest of us!” You glare at him.

“Then, I’m sure you can answer my questions. Since you seem to be the oldest here.” She stands in front of you and you meet her dark blue eyes, “Who are you? What are you doing here?” Her voice was lowered and it was spoken in more of a threatening manner than before.

“We’re from the Southern Water Tribe. We were just passing through and wanted to relax before continuing.” You swallow, feeling intimidated, “That’s all, I promise.”

“It’s my fault.” Aang speaks up, from somewhere past your brother, “I’m sorry we came here. I wanted to ride the Elephant Koi.”

“How do we know you’re not Fire Nation spies?” The man hisses accusingly, “Kiyoshi stayed out of the war so far and we intend to keep it that way.” That makes you scoff in anger. How dare he accuse you of being a spy for that wretched nation! As if you’d want anything to do with the people who destroyed your family!

“This island is named for Kiyoshi?” Aang sounds oddly happy about that, “I know Kiyoshi!”

“How could you possibly know her? Avatar Kiyoshi was born here four hundred years ago. She’s been dead for centuries!”

“I know her because I’m the Avatar.” Aang says making your jaw drop. ‘He did not just say that out loud! Why would he tell people that after I told him to keep it a secret?!’ You panic. ‘If these idiots would have let me handle this, I could have gotten us out by now! But, no, don’t let the adult handle this!’

“That’s impossible! The last Avatar was an airbender who disappeared one hundred years ago.” The woman shakes her head as you drop yours in exasperation.

“That’s me!” You can practically hear Aang’s grin. You were going to strangle this kid the moment your hands were free. Avatar or not!

“Throw the impostor to the unagi!” The man commands. ‘So, he’s likely the chief.’ The women snap out metal fans and move closer to surround your group. Your eyes widen and you internally curse that your hands are bound. There was nothing you could do to help your situation.

“Aang, if you’re going to claim that you’re the Avatar you need to prove it!” You tell him, not liking the sight of those fans, “Do some air bending!” There’s a gust of air and you hear the people gasping in awe. Whispers fill the air as Aang floats down and you feel relieved as you hear the Chief say that he believed him. They threw a feast in honor of Aang’s arrival and you were shocked to see so much food on the table. You were hesitant at first, but Aang insisted so you ate until you were satisfied. The Chief and the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors joined your group. Thankfully, Sokka was too engrossed in stuffing himself with food to notice the warrior sitting with you. If he had, you were sure dinner wouldn’t have been as pleasant as it was.

“Hello.” The woman greets you as she takes the seat to your left.

“Hello.” You greet her politely.

“I wanted to apologize and introduce myself to you.” She brushes her hair behind her ear, “I’m Suki, the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors. I’m sorry we ambushed you like that. While we live away from the mainlands, people have been begging us to join the war. It’s been going on since before I was a little girl. We’ve been very careful with newcomers.”

“That’s alright. I understand that. My village was raided by the Fire Nation when I was a teenager. After that, the men in the village refused to let anyone who wasn’t from the neighboring villages in.” You reassure her, “You were only protecting your home. I can’t blame you for that when I would do the same. It’s admirable.”

“That’s a relief. Thank you… but um… that’s not all I wanted to apologize for.” Suki rubs the back of her neck, lowering her voice, “I was the one who jumped you on the shoreline. You looked to be around my age, so I wasn’t sure what training you might have had.” Her words sink in and you begin to feel mortified.

“I saw your chest and I wanted to let you know that wasn’t my intention.” She whispers, and you think you see her face turning pink, “I’m very sorry for that.”

“I-It’s okay.” You frantically wave your hands, “I’m not upset about it at all. At least you had the decency to cover me.”

“O-Of course! I wouldn’t do that to another woman!” Now she’s waving her hands frantically, “Not unless they wanted me to, but that’s not- I’m going to stop talking now.” She facepalms, making you laugh at the absurdity of the conversation.

The mess that was your first conversation didn’t do anything to ruin the rest of them. You found yourself talking to Suki the most as you were sitting next to each other. She listened intently as you talked about your life at home and what you did for fun. Unfortunately, you had to leave out anything that involved waterbending. Katara was the one who talked to Suki about that one. But, you learned about Suki’s life on the island and how it was her dream to become a Kyoshi Warrior. You congratulated her on becoming the leader and she made a soft comment that had you raising an eyebrow, “It’s rewarding to train pretty women like you.”

You weren’t new to flirting. You were lucky enough to interact with people outside of your tribe before your dad left. It’s just been a while since you’ve had a chance. So, you fell into it. You flirted with her, and she seemed to be into it. You couldn’t believe your luck. You’ve been gone from home for such a short time and here was an attractive woman hitting on you! The end of dinner made you a little sad, but you had the itch for some more alone time, so you asked one of the islanders where you could find a quiet cove or something close to it. They directed you to one on the other side of the island that’s past the training building for the Kyoshi Warriors.

It was a good distance to walk, but that meant you wouldn’t be bothered by anyone either. With your siblings and Aang preoccupied, you took the chance to sneak away. It felt like the perfect opportunity to get some waterbending practice in. You let out a slow breath, moving through the meditative poses your mother taught you as a child. It helped not only to relax your body but your mind when it got too unfocused. And, it was definitely too unfocused. There was something about Suki that got into your brain. You couldn’t stop thinking about her. Knowing that she was the one who took you down earlier made you flustered. You’ve never come into contact with anyone who can do something like that.

So, once your body is focused, you let your awareness spread to the rolling waves in front of you. You smile to yourself as you lift the water and bring it towards you. It whirls around your body, the soft whooshing sound of the water bringing you peace of mind.

“Okay, mom.” You exhale, widening your stance slightly, “Guide me through the exercise.” You move through the waterbending techniques your mother taught you, steadily going faster and getting harsher with each re-run of the sequence. Your muscles are used to the movement, due to training over and over again. At some point, you’d have to break the news to Katara. She’d be pissed with you for keeping this a secret, but she wasn’t ready. You couldn’t teach her something that could kill someone if she couldn’t control her anger. You will never forget the day you nearly speared your father with an icicle during an argument.

“You didn’t tell me you were a bender.” A voice comes from behind you, making you shriek. You whirl around, the water following as you whip it at whoever snuck up on you.

“Ouch!” The person yelps, clutching their side and you realize that it’s Suki.

“Oh, Spirits! I’m so sorry!” You gasp as she looks at you with an impressed look, “Are you okay?!”

“It’s okay!” Suki giggles, rubbing her side as she moves closer to you, “I guess we’re even after what happened earlier today.”

“I guess we are.” You chuckle, “Are you sure you don’t want me to check?”

“Well… I’d have to remove everything so…”

“Oh.” You blink, “Then, I’ll take your word for it.”

“Anyway, that was some impressive bending. How come you didn’t bring it up when Katara was talking about it?”

“My brother and sister don’t know. Our mom trained me in secret in case my siblings couldn’t bend. I haven’t told Katara for various reasons.” You sigh, running a hand over your hair. It was the one conversation you were dreading.

“Hmm, is the reason because you’re so good at it?” She says flirtatiously, “If you had fought me with it this morning, I might have been the one retrained.”

“I doubt it.” You flirt back, “I could just freeze you in place.” You demonstrate by sneakily freezing her feet to the ground. She gasps, tugging on her ankles to try and get them unstuck.

“Then you wouldn’t have been able to go anywhere.” You giggle, giving her a playful shove. Suki laughs as she pinwheels, unable to fall.

“You’re interesting, you know that?” She grins, watching as you melt the ice and pull the water back to you.

“Says the woman who took me down in seconds.” You chuckle, “I have never been so confused in my life.” She could take you down that fast and had the strength to lift your body. You found that kind of attractive.

“Will you show me your bending?” Suki questions, leaning forward on her tiptoes, “I haven’t seen waterbending like yours up close before.”

“Only if you keep it a secret.” You get a raised eyebrow in return, “Please, Suki. I can’t have them finding out right now.” You give her a pleading look. She makes a face like she’s contemplating what you said. You bite your lip, wondering if she’d tell them about your secret. She didn’t seem like that kind of person, but you only just met her. She tied you up and planned on murdering you without a second thought, too. It was to protect her people but…

“I’ll keep it a secret.” Suki agrees, a teasing smile on her lips, “But, you have to let me train you. You’ll need to know how to protect yourself.”

“Deal!” You hurriedly agree. That earns you a big grin from Suki and you spend the last of your daylight waterbending for her. She seemed dazzled by what you were doing. She asked you questions and even attempted to do the moves with you. For the first time in forever, you didn’t feel alone while practicing. She made you laugh and even tried to surprise attack you! You managed to hit her away, but you suspected she made it easy for you.

Once the final dredges of sunlight were about to disappear, Suki took your hand and guided you through the woods. She said you could use the actual training building because you’d be the only ones there. With the arrival of Aang, she had given the others the evening off. But, it will be right back to work tomorrow morning.

“This is where you practice?” You gasp. The building was very simple on the inside with a large open space. There were some weapons hanging on the wall and two doors at the back of the building.

“Yup. From sunrise to sunset.” Suki turns to you, putting her hands on her hips, “Now you’ll get the chance to see how we train.”

“So, why did you want to train me?” You question, letting her pull your hair out of its ponytail. You shake it out and blush at the awed look Suki gives you. Your hair was very long. You took great care of it since there wasn’t much to do in your free time.

“If you’re going to keep pretending you’re not a waterbender, you still need to be able to protect yourself.” She retrieves a box and has you kneel before her, “So, I’m going to walk you through our traditions.”

Suki takes the time to get you dressed into the robes the Kiyoshi Warriors wear. You’re almost surprised at how heavy the robes are on your body. If they wore this and managed to move that quickly, they must be inhuman or something! It interested you, and you found the way Suki talked so proudly about it to be cute. You listened to her closely, letting her put the makeup on you as she explained the history behind it. Once that was done, it was time for practice.

“We’re going to move through some motions, so spread your feet apart like this and bring your elbows into your body.” Suki demonstrates. You mimic her and she stares at you intensely as you do. A few seconds pass before she walks over to you.

“You want to come down a bit farther.” She puts her hands on your hips and pulls your body down some more. You feel your breath catch in your throat as she manipulates your body. Although you had no skin exposed, you could feel her touch lingering on your skin. It felt like the air was heating up between you two. She watched your body movements, using her own hands to support you or correct your form. You stopped breathing when her hands moved up your body, feeling dizzy in a different way. Your gazes lingered, and you watched her lips move as she talked.

“You’re doing a great job!” Suki compliments you, “You’re a natural at this!”

“Thank you.” You feel fluttery hearing her say that, “It might just be because I have a great teacher.”

“A great teacher is only made by a great student.” She winks at you, making you giggle.

“Can you show me your moves in action?” You tilt your head, “Slowly, at least. I’d like to be able to see it this time.”

“Okay, get in position across from me.” Suki motions with her hand, and you do as she says. You lock eyes, getting lost in her gaze. A moment passes and then Suki becomes a blur. You gasp in alarm, feeling her grab your arm out of nowhere. You’re yanked forward and you feel your body flip through the air. You let out a grunt of pain as your back hits the floor and Suki pins you to the ground. Your jaw drops as she smirks down at you.

“Was that slow enough?” She asks teasingly.

“Yeah…” You breathe out, feeling an unknown emotion settle in your chest.

“That’s it for tonight, then.” The smirk doesn’t leave her face as she helps you up, “Let’s get you out of that. We’ll take the makeup off first.” You nod wordlessly, still in awe. The two of you head into the changing room where the shelves are filled with extra uniforms. There’s a basin of water there that’s used to remove the makeup, but you feel a little spontaneous.

“Let me remove the makeup for you.” You pull water from the basin and let it stick to your palms, “It’ll be faster this way.”

“Okay.” Suki smiles and sits down, patting the spot on the bench next to her. You get close to her, Suki’s hand on your thigh to steady herself as she lets you carefully run your hands over her face. Little by little, the makeup comes off to reveal her features and you’re taken by her beauty.

“You’re staring.” She whispers.

“Sorry.” You go to back away, but she grabs your wrist.

“I’m okay with staring… but I’d prefer to kiss you instead.” You make a noise in the back of your throat, surprised by her statement.

“If I read this whole evening wrong, you’re more than welcome to tell me no.” She continues, “But if I haven’t… I’d like to kiss you.”

“You haven’t.” You whisper, closing your eyes to remove the makeup from your face. Once you do, you send the water down the little drain next to the basin, “I’d like to kiss you, too.”

Suki didn’t waste a second. Her lips were on yours, soft and sweet from the berry juice in the lip paint. Your heartbeat picks up as she guides you onto her lap, and you rest your hands on her chest. She wasn’t your first kiss, but she’s the first kiss where it was good. Suki knew how to kiss and it showed. The way her tongue found its way into your mouth, not too much to send you running or she’d take a moment to suck on your bottom lip and make you impatient.

“Can I touch you?” Suki asks sweetly, “Have you been touched before?”

“Ah, no, I-I haven’t.” That question wasn’t one you were expecting at all. That made you a little nervous. You haven’t even touched yourself before. How would you know what to do or-

“Hey, don’t worry. We don’t have to do anything.” She brushes your hair behind your ear, “I was just asking.”

“I’d like to… I’ve just- I don’t-”

“You don’t need to do anything.” She giggles, “Let me do it for you.”

“Okay.” You agree.

“Let’s get you undressed then.” Suki waits for you to stand before instructing you to turn around. Piece by piece, she helped you out of the warrior’s uniform while leaving kisses on your neck. Your body felt warm, your heart was racing, and you were slowly getting excited for what was to come. When your robes were off, you helped Suki even though she didn’t need it. Taking your cues from her, you did the same thing and kissed her neck, giving in to the urge to leave little bites as well. You were doing something right by the way you’d hear soft gasps leave her lips. The moment the last piece of her robes were off, she backed you into the wall and hicked your leg up to her hip.

“Kiss me.” You demand, making her chuckle.

“Eager.” She grins before kissing you again. This time you were more intense with this kiss. You weren’t sure why but only that it felt right to be. You could feel her fingers playing at the edge of your underwear and it sends shivers up your spine. Her fingers move across and down, over your covered clit to press against that spot between your legs. You gasp against her lips, wrapping your arms around her to bring her closer to you. She rubs her fingers down there for a bit, continuing to kiss you as you struggle to hold in your moans. Your body is trembling at this point, eager for more stimulation from the gorgeous warrior pinning you to the wall.

“Do you still want me to put my fingers in?” Suki asks after backing from the kiss.

“Yes…” You breathe out. You hold each other’s gaze as you feel her move the cloth aside. Her eyes sparkle in the light, such a deep blue you could always get lost in them. You gasp as one of her fingers slips into you, whimpering as she touches you in a way no one has. It’s all you can focus on. The feel of her touching you so deeply in a place that sent your body tingling with pleasure.

“Suki.” You moan out her name, tilting your head back.

“You’re so beautiful, you know.” She kisses your exposed neck, “It’s a shame you’ve never felt pleasure like this before.”

“You’re the first.” You mutter, not able to speak any louder.

“I’m honored.” She hums, putting another finger in and stretching you out, “You have such a cute pussy. I’m enjoying letting you experience this.” You groan, the soft burning from the stretching not doing anything to distract you from the pleasure. Only a few hours ago, she had tied you up and now she was in an intimate position with you. Who would have thought leaving home would end up with you like this?

“Thank you…” You say breathily, “It feels nice. Really nice.”

“Don’t thank me yet, cutie.” Suki giggles, “I haven’t made you cum, yet.” You weren’t sure what she meant by that, but you couldn’t ask. She had moved her thumb to a bundle of nerves further up and you were too enthralled to talk. The trembling in your body only got worse, except now something was tightening in your abdomen. It kept getting tighter the more she touched you and you didn’t want to tell Suki to stop. You were more aware of her fingers than you were earlier and the pressure in your abdomen had reached its peak. A loud moan left your lips as you felt it snap, your fingers digging into her shoulders in the process.

“Spirits!” You hear Suki exclaim in surprise and then giggle as you feel a liquid run down your legs. She didn’t stop until you could feel your body relax, but your mind was definitely in a different state. You felt a little foggy.

“I didn’t think I’d make you cum that hard.” Suki chuckles, slowly sliding her fingers out, “Are you feeling okay?” She asks.

“Yeah.” You nod, trying to catch your breath, “I am. I just- I’m not quite sure what I’m feeling but it feels good.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll go away soon.” She kisses your cheek, “You did great, cutie.”

“Thank you.” You blush, thinking about kissing her again, “Can I…?”

“Can you kiss me again?” She smirks, making you giggle and nod your head.

“I don’t mind that.” Suki lifts your chin and kisses you.

[eloiscbridgerton]

Royai fic recommendations in honor of Royai Week 2023!

Just wanted to share some of my all-time favorite complete M and E-rated Royai fics on AO3 ever since getting into the fandom last May 2021. I have a very specific taste (??) in how I envision Royai’s dynamic when they get together, and these fics personally just NAILED it. Like I cannot stress enough how every Royai fan should read these! Without further ado...

Starve the Ego, Feed the Soul by onthearrow (95k words, E)

“Something has changed between them since the Promised Day.”

This has to be my all-time favorite. Like it’s a bit insane how good this fic is. Roy and Riza pining for each other ... in the most pathetic horny manner. Also the smut here... will leave you a bit gagged, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever read before. The author definitely did not hold back LMAO. So many moments in this fic where I had to put my phone down a bit just because I was so 😳😳😳 They have two complete Royai fics (including this one) and there’s one on the way for Royai Week 2023. I recommend to read all of it.

morning sun by hot_girl_burner_account (7.5k words, E)

“Roy walks Riza home after a wedding, and she's wearing this dress, and he might as well come up for some tea, and it's getting late, and the roads are icy, and they both run out of excuses.”

OH MY GOD if you’re looking for a fic set sometime after the promised day where Roy and Riza are just waiting for the ball to drop and immediately give in, this is it. The buildup, the context of being after a wedding.. the amount of flirting beforehand..like I know they were gonna fuck but the banter actually made me say OMG JUST FUCK!!! A sweet lil’ one shot that makes you want more.

the secret is to swallow / without expecting hunger to disappear by lantur (45k words, M)

“The fact that Hawkeye is Roy's subordinate is actually the least of his concerns. The least of the reasons why Roy keeps his distance, outside of their working relationship. It is difficult to keep his Lieutenant at arm’s length when all he wants to do is drag her closer and closer to him, pull her deeper into his orbit, but it has to be done.”

Am I the only one who loves it when Roy is pining and jealous and pathetic and he thinks his feelings are one-sided? Well, if you do too, this fic is perfect. Like... omg you’re so dumb Riza loves u !! Also I love that this is written in Roy’s POV

Once by TheFledglingDM (73k words, M)

“It was a longing like obsession, like madness, a yearning down to the bones. Once, he pleaded. Once, she prayed. Just once and I can move on. _ or - riza and roy's relationship over the years. covers childhood, ishval, the series, and post-promised day.”

HHHHHHHHH oh my god.... this fic... I read its entirety in one night! It’s basically a faster retelling of the events of FMAB except it’s entirely in Royai POV where they’re crushing and horny for each other (to specifically TASTE each other). This fic also would have an award if I gave out an award for Most Reread First Kiss, because yes it was THAT good.

First by TheFledglingDM (4.4k, E)

““So, Roy, I was thinking.” Riza said, as straightforward as if this were just another day at the office. Roy tried to speak but could barely produce volume. All he could manage was, “Uh-huh?” “We should have sex now,” Riza told him.”

Set immediately after Once by the same author. This is just sooo... exquisite I fear... Roy is so eager to please and honestly I get him! This can be read as a separate one-shot but honestly the 73k buildup in Once just makes the reading experience for this fic just 100x better

darker than the ocean, deeper than the sea by yourendlessblue (8.9k, E)

She looks up, and meets his eyes, blinking wide at him and demurely smiles, putting on a silent show. There’s power in this, she thinks, that she can affect him practically just by existing.

“Sir?”

“Havoc’s going to pick you up to our room,” he says, perfectly composed and prim. “I’ll see you.”

Roy is a sugar daddy. They both have feelings but they don’t talk about it they just have sex LOL. The way I wish this had a prequel and a sequel!! One of those rare AUs that just makes you want more!!! I WAS LEFT HANGING!! (not really but you get my point)

let’s fantasize from the other end of the line by lantur (10.8k, M)

“Riza receives a late-night phone call from Roy.”

This fic is soooo sensual. They both know what they’re doing is wrong on so many levels but neither of them ever address it so they CAN’T seem to stop. Also the work that lantur has done for the Royai community should be applauded LMAO if I wasn’t trying to keep this list short I would link all of their fics here. 

can we always be this close by lantur (10.9k, M)

“Roy sits in the spot Riza remembers as his favorite, too - in the armchair facing the entrance. He rises as soon as she walks in, striding toward her. “Thanks for joining me tonight, Lieutenant.”

It is silly, but Riza’s heart leaps at the sight of him. He looks pleased to see her, too. “Reginald?” She raises an eyebrow. “Really, Colonel. Could you have picked a stuffier alias?”

Roy and Riza have a rendezvous, or two, during the months of separation leading up to the Promised Day.”

OK LAST LANTUR REC (and last fic for this list) but oh god... this is so sweet and tender and UGH... that first kiss made me feel so warm!!! this fic is more emotional than horny.. but it’s so well done!

HOPE YALL ENJOY AS MUCH AS I DID !

[andavs]

Ok that fic sounds amazing. I can't wait but will for you to post. Can we have a snippet? Please?

For you? Of course!

Chimney threw down one of his usual stacks of newspapers like a gauntlet. “The reason we’re all here. We desperately need to work on your image.”

Eddie looked up from frowning down at his mug and raised his eyebrows at the papers, but Buck couldn’t help feeling a little offended.

“I haven’t even done anything!” he protested. Yeah, he went out a few times when he first arrived but that was weeks ago! He’d been good! He’d stayed in the palace and attended meetings! Looked at documents! The person he spent the most time with was seven years old!

“Exactly!” Chimney pointed at him with an accusing finger. “You got publicly smashed twice and then vanished from sight. I’ve heard every theory possible, from rehab to hospitalized to being thrown in the dungeon.”

Eddie frowned. “We don’t have a dungeon.”

Chimney narrowed his eyes. “That’s not the point. The point is that you,” point at Buck, ”abruptly vanished from sight, and you,” point at Eddie, “have barely been in sight in the last ten months.”

Eddie didn’t even blink as he responded flatly, “The last time I went to a public event, I got shot.”

Dead silence.

He managed to hold his deadpan expression for a solid few seconds before it took on a suspicious quality.

“Oh no, you aren’t getting out of it like that,” Chim said, catching on. “I know you did all kinds of events after that. And now we have security, we have Athena, this will be planned and executed down to the smallest detail.”

“Maybe don’t say executed,” Hen whispered into her coffee beside him.

[kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon]

Tag Game: AO3 and fic writing!

Tagged by @cheeseplants and @dbacklot99 💖💖

How many works do you have on ao3? 24

What's your total ao3 word count? 303,167 with big collabs! But without those, I clock in at 170,775. 👀

What fandoms do you write for? Good Omens currently, but have written in Stargate Atlantis, Firefly, and Battlestar Galactica as well as one classic film fic.

Top five fics by kudos:

Not including the big collabs, and all Good Omens (E, NSFW):

A Sixty In Nine Saves Time

Aziraphale reads the wrong book, uh oh! Feeling responsible (or maybe just titillated), Crowley tries to lend a hand.

Takedown / Reversal

After their near miss in 1941 with a bullet, Furfur, and Nazi zombies, Aziraphale and Crowley retire to the bookshop for a mellow evening of too much wine. Unfortunately, someone is wearing quite the saucy fedora, and someone else takes quite a fancy to it. Obviously wrestling and banging and angst must ensue. Bittersweet ending with a 1955 followup. (inspired by @gleafer arts!)

Shake Like Hell and Spell Success 

Set after S1/Armageddon. Newly smitten (I believe), Aziraphale tries to create the perfect first-time scenario but has difficulties. As usual, Crowley doesn’t know what’s going on until he does, and then he knocks it out of the park on his first swing, because, demon? There's lingerie involved.

Wooing Peaceably 

Sometime after the Second Coming, Crowley and Aziraphale are visiting Crete during olive picking season. A little bit of happiness (and smut) after too long. Olives olives olives and olive oil!

An Arrangement in the Dark 

England during Georgian/Regency time period. Crowley turns down Aziraphale’s offer of an Arrangement swap for a Northamptonshire holiday house party. Naturally Aziraphale turns up anyway to see what kind of especially Evil! wiles need thwarting.

Do you respond to comments? Absolutely! Like all of us I adore comments. Someone liking a fic I wrote enough to say so is such a great feeling.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Definitely Takedown / Reversal, although I tried to soften it with a follow-up. Not sure if that worked. 😆 Also Impersonal (Firefly, Inara/Zoe) is a bit angsty but hopeful.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I think a lot of my fics have pretty happy endings! Maybe It's the Edge of the World As We Know It?

Do you get hate on fics? Not yet...

Do you write smut? Yes ma’am

Craziest crossover: nothing super wild? Most GO fic features some kind of fun historical reference or person (without feeling like RPF to me since they’re usually long dead, but essentially…) @angelictroublemaker and I wrote a Firefly/SGA crossover and that was about as wild as I got.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge 👀

Have you ever had a fic translated? Not yet!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! My first ever fic was cowritten with @angelictroublemaker and I’ve done more collabs within Good Omens fandom. My fave so far is a big ol project with @dbacklot99 and @sixbynine-da ❤️. The others:

Coming Home - A Choose Your Own Adventure Story

Interdimensional Leakage

Keeping it in the Vault (and its less-hairy counterpart)

All time favorite ship? I love Aziraphale/Crowley so much. I have lots of other favorite ships from fandoms I've read but not written in, though.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Probably one of my Human AU bits from the Guild Thursday sprints: Aziraphale as wedding planner/Crowley as floral designer, or Aziraphale as photography dabbler/Crowley as Some-Eldritch-Thing-Or-Other he (Az) starts capturing on film. And just typing these out makes me want to work on them now, so NEVER SAY NEVER.

What are your writing strengths? Description, grammar(ish), dialogue, smut (I hope. I like to write it and rewrite it at least).

What are your writing weaknesses? Description 😳 Also I have to really work on movement of plot (if I actually manage to have one, instead of events that happen for Purposes of Smut) and pacing.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? Perfect for Good Omens in my opinion. I like it overall.

First fandom you wrote in? I wrote a (disavowed) Mary Sue-insert fic for Star Trek Voyager in a notebook when I was a youngun. My first posted fic was for Battlestar Galactica.

Favorite fic you've written? I really like how To Ride a Journey on a Jade turned out, and also Sea Change. I also am loving working on Sins of Knowledge, although the size of it is intimidating to me.

And also whichever one I'm finishing up at the moment! Right now that's a Pride Exchange fic that I'll share (if the giftee is willing) this Saturday, and an angsty Doppelbanging fic that may or may not see light of day.

Tagging: @angelictroublemaker, @lemon-tart-221, @ghst-signal, @ladybracknellssherry, @demonsandpieohmy and anyone else who wants to play!