#yes i was extremely lucky and blessed….. still can’t believe it

[fellshish]

Blood-covered david tennant anyone?

[kkusuka]

Anatomy lessons <3 

ushijima wakatoshi x reader 

genre: smut 

synopsis: ushijima is helplessly devoted to volleyball, and his grades reflect that. 

cw: anatomically fem reader, vaginal fingering, blowjob (i think that’s it, if anything seems left out let me know!)

a/n: all i could think about is that ushiwaka is canonically stupid and i love that. 

based o this request: Studying anatomy and using your body as a physical map- Ushijima ((smut)) I’ve had this imagine suck in my head about Ushijima but like just picture this, Ushijima and Y/N studying together and they both like each other but Ushi doesn’t know how to act on his emotions and Y/N can’t tell if he likes them so they are just running around in circles pinning for each other, but anyways Ushi is studying for anatomy but he just can’t get the female anatomy to stick into his head and he’s getting a bit frustrated and so Y/N is like well I’m a female, you can practice on me and he’s like well shit. Y/N lays down Ushi is gliding his hands over their body as he names the muscles and whatnot, they both get a bit hot and bothered and when Ushi finishes “studying”he’s got an awkward boner and Y/N is like “now it’s my turn to study your anatomy” and they push ushi down and 🤪🤪🤪 please give this to me I’ve been thinking about it ALL DAY!!! -✨Puppy🤩

Shiratorizawa’s reputation was built upon intelligence and elegance.

The students are of the highest degree in not only book-smarts but also athletics. Only the most talented and were persons were allowed in the walls of the academy. Hell, the entrance exam resembled an AP college exam.

“I do not understand.”

Of course, there are always loopholes.

The first being an athletic scholarship. One of the more annoying ways to make it into the school, according to the students. You don't mean to sound mean but, it was blatantly obvious when someone is on athletic help.

But that wasn't what you were dealing with right now. No, it was something the students found way worse.  

A recommendation.

Actually, it was an athletic recommendation.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was known before he had even appeared.

You had been the lucky one to sit next to him first, and second, and somehow third year. And through that, you’ve learned more than a few things about him.

Firstly, he was the most amazing volleyball player you have ever seen. He also had so much passion for the sport that it had seemed to rub off on you. By the end of first-year gym class, you knew how to receive a light spike of his.

Second, he was extremely easy to fall in love with. For being constantly aloof and oblivious, he had this pull to him that just roped you in. at first you weren't sure what you felt for the bot, then he had helped you with a project ending the night with a smile and you were done for.

He was also incredibly easy to stay in love with. Once he had your attention he was almost the only person you thought of. Plaguing your mind with fluffy fake dates and worries that he would never like you back.

But he hasn’t said anything for you to believe either of those situations so you sit at a constant stalemate.

And thirdly, he was not only dense but utterly stupid. How was someone so sought after so completely unaware of admiration? Not only his social unawareness, but he was also not the smartest when it came to school.

Then you swooped in, raised his grades a few points, and became his official homework helper. You thought it was a blessing, more time with the man who had your heart, but you underestimated just how much help he needed.

You had no idea how many times you would have to explain the Pythagorean theorem to someone before they understood. (you're sure now that he didn't really understand and he just didn't want to hear it again.)

And anatomy was no exception.

“That’s alright Toshi, do you want to try looking at a different diagram? That might help!”

Opening a new book, you spent another ten minutes staring at the page just looking at it, before staring back up at you. And that's your cue. No more diagrams, he was never going to learn like that.

This was what you called plan visual. somethings, namely science, were better learned but seeing and not memorization.

Letting out a sigh, you closed all of the books and told him to do the same.

“Ok, here’s what’s going to happen.” placing yourself directly in front of the cross-legged man, garnering his full attention, “I'm going to give you an arm and a leg  and, let's start with the skeletal system, so just tell me all the bones you can remember.”

Lending your hand you took it in his and gave you a nod. Going up the length of your arm finishing at your shoulder blade, he moved to run a hand along your un-bending leg. Starting at your ankle he kept a constant hand on the back of your knee, keeping your leg hanging in the air.

A few mixed up bones later you finally moved on to muscles. Not only did it take far longer but you could tell he was getting frustrated, if the hand gripping your thigh as he tried to name all the muscles there was any telling.

On his fifth try, you gave him some help and just decided to move on, seeing that it wasn't needed for him to know blood vessels just yet, there was only one other thing he had to do.

Male and female anatomy.

You had tried to avoid the topic but that seemed almost impossible at the moment.

“Is something wrong Y/n?” As he spoke you became all too aware of his hand still on your thigh and how he was staring right at you like he could tell exactly what you were thinking, “the next topic is the reproductive system correct?”

“Erm, ye-yeah, but we don’t have to-”

“Don't be silly, we have to get through all the material that will be on the test. May I have the textbook to reference from?” he spoke as if he was ordering food, completely nonchalant. As if his hand wasn't reaching into your skirt and sliding your panties to the side.

“This unit does not require the breasts so you can keep your shirt on.” he continued to slide your underwear from your legs flipping your skirt, pushing you onto your back. Maneuvering you to how he wanted, you holding your legs spread open and close to your chest, he got to work.

“The outer lips, formally known as the labia majora,” he spoke as he ran a finger down, spreading them open to e your hole clench around nothing.  He let out a breath and intently stared at your core.

“Labia minora, inner lips.” running another finger along your lips he collected the wetness that had collected on them, bringing it to his mouth, maintaining eye contact as he licked it clean. “A woman creates a natural lubrication to aid in intercourse.”

Deliberately avoiding your clit, he moved to the urethral opening, passing it quickly. Moving to run a hand along your stomach placing where he thought your cervix and womb lay.

“The clitoris, an organ that is completely dedicated to pleasure.” his thumb rubbing small circles around your bud was the final opus for you to let out all the soft whimpers you had so desperately wanted to let out.

Eye’s shooting to meet yours his thumb moved quicker, drawing more pants and wanton moans from your throat.

“Please Toshi, I wanna-”

Your beg must've ripped him away from whatever daydream he lost himself in, roping his thumb away from your clit, a whine escaping you, he moved to his final destination.

“The vaginal hole, where a man enters a woman and makes her his own. It leads straight through the cervix into the womb.” right as he finished two fingers shoved their way into your pussy.

Reattaching his thumb to your clit, he coaxed moan after moan out of you.

Hitting a spot somewhere deep in you, cunt spasming as he rode out you high with slow strokes, “the g-spot, a small area that aids with the female orgasm.”

Taking his fingers to his mouth once more, he watched you let your legs down and close your eyes to help calm your roaring heart. In your bliss, you felt two lips connect to yours, a soft dance between new lovers.

A forehead rested on your hands and ran up and down your sides placing you back into a sitting position.

“y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“We still have one more thing to do.”

Oh right, this lesson was a two-way street.

Crawling to kneel between his crossed legs you palmed his bulge as he leaned back on the chair, bringing his hands behind his head. He watched you take his cock out of its restraints, wrapping your lips around the tip leaning his pre-cum.

He let you pace yourself, don't complain when you came up to explain what you were doing to what.

On the contrary, you could tell all he wanted to do was push your head down and keep it there until his load stuffed your throat. Realizing this was probably the last time you would have control over the boy.

But all seems worth it when he shows you the A+ on the anatomy test.

Maybe Ushijima Wakatoshi is a good student after all.

[wishuhadstayed]

Plus One

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word count: 3000ish

Summary: it’s baby time y’all!

Warnings: pregnancy complications, angst

Author’s Note: to those who have been waiting, I AM SO SORRY. I hope this will be worth it! Part 8? to Begin Again. Please feel free to yell at me in the comments if you feel so inclined.

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

Conversation flowed in the dining room and kitchen of the Hotchner residence as the BAU team and family impatiently anticipated the forthcoming announcement.

“It’s a boy, has to be,” Morgan mused.

“No way. Definitely a girl,” JJ contradicts.

“As much as it pains me to say, I think I have to go with Morgan on this one,” Emily admits.

“Garcia?” JJ inquires, “What do you think?”

“I have to agree with Chocolate Thunder on this one, love,”

“Are you all taking his side?” JJ asks with indignation. “I’ll bet you $50 that it’s a girl!”

“Oh you’re on, sweetheart,” Morgan complies with a winning smile.

“I don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy,” says Reid, “but I do know that I wouldn’t bet against JJ.”

“Thanks, Spence,” JJ replies, patting him on the shoulder. “Emily, Rossi? You wanna get in on the action?”

“Oh I am so staying out of this,” Prentiss responds. “Count me out.”

“I’m in with Morgan for $50,” Rossi states.

“Alright, but you’re all gonna be sorry,” JJ says with a smirk.

Overhearing the lively discussion, you enter the room.

“Children, what’s going on here?” You interject, “Don’t make me break up a fight.”

“Y/N! Just the lady I wanted to see!” Exclaims JJ. “May I?” She asks, gesturing towards your growing baby bump.

“Sure, go ahead,” you reply. “Do I even want to know?”

“We’re taking bets on the sex of the baby,” she replies placing a gentle hand on your belly. “And I am so totally going to win!”

“You can’t possibly know that, JJ,” Morgan interrupts.

“Call me crazy if you want,” says JJ, “but a mother knows.”

“I suppose you’ll all find out soon enough,” Aaron cuts in, placing a strong arm around your back and pressing his lips to yours for a quick, tender kiss. “Shall we?”

With that, everyone makes their way to the backyard, where a large golden balloon awaits.

Picking it up from the ground, Aaron asks, “Everybody ready?”

He didn’t really have to ask. The answer was unanimous.

“YES!”

“Jack, would you like to do the honors?” you inquire, holding out a safety pin for him.

“Can I?” he asks hopefully.

“Of course you can buddy. Just be careful, okay?”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Dad and I will count you in, okay? On three.”

Together, you and Aaron slowly count, “One, two, THREE!”

A loud pop from the balloon momentarily startles the crowd and then..... a cloud of pink confetti floats to the ground.

“YES!” JJ shouts in her excitement. “PAY UP, LOSERS! We got a baby shower to plan!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several weeks later found you strolling through the back door of Rossi’s home into the yard where you’d married the man of your dreams not so very long ago.

This time it’s decorated for a slightly different occasion. Pale pink lanterns and streamers adorn everything in sight. A picnic table covered with a pink flowered cloth looks like it might collapse at any moment beneath the weight of a mountain of gifts wrapped in pastel paper. Heart shaped balloons are tied to the corners of another table on top of which is a giant bowl of pink punch, more food than you thought possible, and a breathtaking cake, decorated with tiny pink roses.

A tap on your shoulder brings you back to reality and you turn to see three beautiful, smiling faces. Women that you consider to be not only friends, but family at this point.

“Penny, Emily, JJ,” you say as your eyes begin to well up with tears, “This is too much! You shouldn’t have gone to this much trouble.”

“Oh this is the least we could have done for you, doll face,” Garcia interjects. “Nothing but the finest for my very best friend.”

“Don’t worry about it, my clean sweep at the gender reveal paid for most of this,” JJ jokes.

“You look absolutely radiant,” Emily adds, pulling you in for a hug.

“Where’s the boss man?” Penelope asks. “He’s coming isn’t he?”

“Oh yes” you reply. “He was helping Jack out of the car. He told me to come on in. He’s probably inside hanging out with boys for a minute.”

At that moment, you feel a pair of familiar arms encircling you, one across your chest and one just underneath your baby bump. A soft kiss on the cheek and he turns you around to face him. The tender look in his usually stern eyes melts you as he smiles and says,

“There’s my girls.”

“I love you, Aaron.”

“I love you too, darling.”

“Alright love birds, it’s time to get this show on the road!” exclaims Morgan, coming through the door with both Henry and Jack in tow.

“Thanks for keeping the kids entertained, Derek,” you whisper. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Mama. I’ve got it all under control,” he reassures with a wink.

“Should we be worried?” Aaron jokes under his breath.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Garcia offers, trailing off behind them.

Rossi and Reid bring up the tail end of the group, along with Jessica, Jack’s aunt, who had been previously supervising the kids.

“How are the parents-to-be feeling?” Rossi inquires.

“Overwhelmed, and so grateful,” you reply. “I know JJ said she covered most of it with her winnings, but I think we all know you pitched in too. And you’re a fantastic sport for letting the girls decorate your whole house pink.”

“Anything for some of my favorite people,” he replies patting you both on the shoulder.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Reid chimes in. “This baby’s really lucky to have such loving parents.”

“Reid, stop. You’re gonna make me cry,” you squeak out, pulling a tissue from your purse.

Just then, Jessica wraps an arm around both of you.

“Jess, you know you didn’t have to come,” Aaron says.

“Nonsense!” comes her reply. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

As you go to sit so you can open presents, Morgan pulls out the chair for you, then pulls one out for Garcia as they settle in to watch the kids.

Maybe you were mistaken, but you could have sworn you saw a flirty look pass between them. A mischievous grin crosses your face. Perhaps you should do a bit of your own matchmaking.

“Jack!” you call. “Don’t you wanna help Mama open some of her presents?”

“Yeah! Can Henry help too?”

“What do you think JJ?” you ask.

“As long as it’s okay with you,” she agrees.

The kids ran up to help with their very important present duty. Jack retrieving smaller presents and helping rip the paper. Henry mostly just playing with the shiny bows. Thus leaving Morgan and Garcia free of responsibility.

When the last present had been opened, and the last game played, Aaron made his speech.

“Y/N and I just wanted to thank you all so much for being here today. We love each and every one of you like family, and we are truly grateful for all your love and support. We are truly blessed to have such wonderful people in our lives. Thank you again.”

As everyone was leaving, Penelope pulled you to the side.

“Did you call the kids over for help specifically to leave Derek and I alone together?”

“Penny, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” came your reply. “I’m just getting too big to be bending over to grab the presents and I thought it would be fun for the kids.”

“If you say so,” she says with a skeptical look.

As she walks away, Aaron whispers in your ear, “You are so wrong for that, you know?” with a playful shove of your shoulder.

“Oh they’re perfect for each other and everyone knows it. Besides, she played matchmaker for us and look what happened,” you reply, rubbing your belly.

“Okay, okay!” he surrenders with a grin. “You’re right. You’re always right. You win.”

——————————————————————————

As the weeks crept by, your little family was not so patiently awaiting the arrival of its newest addition. Being pregnant and taking care of a 6 year old without your husband was extremely taxing, making the moments that you did have with him exceedingly special.

Moments like today. It was nothing exciting, just sitting on the couch, enjoying each other’s company, but sometimes that’s all you really need.

Seated across from each other, You can’t help but admire the sweet look on his face as he touches your belly.

“I still can’t believe we’re having a baby girl,” he mentions.

“Neither can I,” you agree. “She’s gonna be smart,” you state, resting your hand on top of Aaron’s. “A lawyer like her daddy.”

“She can be anything she wants,” he says, looking up with his smile revealing the stunning dimples that caught your eye on your very first date. “As long as she’s happy.”

“God I love you, Aaron.”

“I love you more, angel.”

But mom duty never stops.

“Oh!” you exclaim. “It’s almost time to pick up Jack from school and I haven’t even started dinner!”

“Don’t worry about it, babe,” Aaron says. “I’ll take care of everything, you just relax.”

“But I,”

“Ssshhhhh,” he interrupts. “No buts. I will pick up Jack, I will get dinner. You deserve a break.”

“Alright, if you insist.”

“I do.”

He leans in and gently brushes his lips against yours.

“I’ll be back soon.”

What felt like an eternity later, you hear the front door open and two distinct sets of footsteps.

“Mama!” Jack yelled, scrambling up into your lap for a hug. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, buddy,” you reassure, pulling him close to your chest.

“What’s for dinner, honey?” you ask?

A playful smirk forms on Aaron’s face, raising your suspicions.

“You’ll see. In the meantime, Jack how would you like to watch a movie with me and mom?”

You all settle on the sofa, Jack in Aaron’s lap and your head on your husband’s left shoulder. Just as you were drifting off to sleep near the end of the movie, a knock at the door startles you awake.

“Dinner’s here!” Aaron announces. “Come on buddy,” he encourages Jack. “Help me out.”

As you reach the table where the food is being laid out, tears begin to spring to your eyes.

“I got you fries and chocolate shake. And a cheeseburger. No mayo, extra pickles.”

“Babe,” you squeak out, “you remembered.”

“Of course I remembered. It’s all you talked about while I was away on my last case.”

You laugh and pull him close.

“I knew I married you for a reason.”

——————————————————————————

Around your 36 week mark, Aaron called from his hotel room to check on you.

“How are you, love?”

“Still pregnant,�� you gripe.

“I know you’re exhausted, mama. I’ll be home tomorrow. Just remember the go bag for the hospital is packed and sitting right by the front door, just in case.”

“Yes, Aaron. You remind me every day. Honestly I think it’s bit overboard, I’m fine.”

“I just worry about you being alone while I’m gone is all. It never hurts to be prepared. Anyway, I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Love you too honey. Good night and be safe tomorrow.”

——————————————————————————

When Aaron arrived home the next night, he was greeted by the sight of you dozing on the couch.

Easing himself down on the edge, he swipes a lock of hair from your face. He softly kisses your forehead and watches as your eyes flutter open.

“Aaron?” you murmur. “You’re home.”

“I’m home,” he whispers. “How are my girls?”

“Better now that you’re home. I’ve had some pretty intense back pain, but otherwise fine.”

“Well sleeping on the couch probably isn’t helping,” he states matter of factly.

“Oh thank you doctor,” you reply sarcastically, giving his arm a playful slap. “I would never have known.”

“You’re welcome,” he says with a shit eating grin. “Let’s get some sleep.”And with that, he sweeps you off the couch, heading for the master bedroom.

——————————————————————————

You woke the next morning still in pain, but not wanting to disturb Aaron. You struggle to sit up, finally managing after a few tries. You pull back the sheets and immediately get a sense of panic and dread at the sight of blood on the hem of your nightgown and the sheets beneath you. As the tears begin to stream, you instinctively call out for him.

Waking up at the sound of his name he asks, “what’s wrong, baby?”

But he realizes the problem before you even get a chance to respond.

Amazingly he seems not to panic at all. The tears and hysterics don’t faze him at all. He simply grabs you out of the bed, carries your directly to the car, and buckles you in.

“Stay right here,” he instructs. “I’m getting Jack and we’re going to the hospital right now.”

What seems like an eternity later, but in reality was only a few minutes, Aaron emerges from the house with Jack and the go bag.

He peels out of the driveway and drives to the nearest hospital with no regard for the speed limit.

When you arrived to the emergency entrance, you look at him with a panic stricken face.

“I’m scared, Aaron.”

“Don’t worry darling,” he says soothingly. “I’m going to get you some help.”

The next thing you know several people are helping you out of the car and loading you onto a stretcher. As they wheel you inside he follows closely behind with Jack asleep in his arms.

“What going on?” you plead.

“I don’t know, love but they’re going to help,” he reassures.

Just then you overhear a member of the medical staff informing Aaron that he’s not allowed any farther.

“What do you mean he can’t come with me?” You wail.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but bleeding is very serious. Both you and the baby could be in danger. We need to get you treatment now and we can’t have any family in the room.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron says in a very calm and sure tone. “They’re going to take good care of you. Everything will be fine.”

“FINE? Nothing about this is fine!” you shout. “I can’t do this without you, Aaron.”

“Yes you can,” he replies, holding your hand. “You’re the strongest woman I know. You have to. Do it for her.” He says, placing his hand on your belly.

“We have to go now,” one of the nurses insist.

“Be strong for me okay?” He pleads, gaining a short tearful nod from you in response.

“I love you,” he calls out as they wheel you swiftly down the hall. Just before the stretcher is out of sight he hears your response.

“I love you more.”

——————————————————————————

Collapsing into a chair in the waiting area, mind racing with worry, Aaron does the only thing he can think of at the moment.

The phone rings, and then,

“Aaron! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon after a case,” Rossi says. “We don’t have plans today, do we?”

“No, Dave. It’s Y/N. We’re at the hospital.”

“Wow, I didn’t think she was due for a few more weeks.”

“She’s not,” Aaron explains, his voice beginning to break. “When we woke up, she was bleeding. From what I understand, it’s pretty serious. You’re the first person I thought to call.”

“Oh my God,” Rossi breathes. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Should I call the rest of the team?”

“Yeah, I think that would be best. I could really use some help with Jack. He’s still asleep for now, but,” Aaron pauses for a moment, choking back tears. “I don’t know what to tell him when he wakes up,” he finishes quietly.

“Just hold on, Aaron,” Rossi replies. “We’re coming.”

——————————————————————————

Within an hour, the whole BAU team was crowding the hospital waiting room. Hugs were exchanged and Aaron had handed a still sleeping Jack off to JJ.

Everyone waited in tense silence, not knowing quite what to say.

“I’m scared out my mind, Dave,” Aaron confines to him. “I can’t lose her. I’ve been through too much already. And Jack, God it would crush him if anything happened to her.”

“I think he’s waking up,” JJ whispers.

“Dad?” He asks in a daze as he wakes. “Miss JJ? Where are we?” He questions now aware of the unfamiliar surroundings.

Coming over to squat down in front of him, Aaron does his best to explain.

“Well buddy, this morning mom got sick, so we brought her to the hospital, and the doctors are taking good care of her.”

“Is she going to be okay?” he inquires. “And my baby sister?”

“I hope so, the doctors are working really hard to make mom better okay?”

“Daddy, we should say a prayer for Mama,” Jack responds. “And my baby sister too.”

“I think that’s a great idea, Jack,” Aaron responds, as he quickly turns away to wipe a tear.

The whole group gathered closely around Jack and Aaron. Everyone took turns saying prayer for the health and well being of Y/N and her unborn daughter.

Moments after the last amen was said; just when Aaron thought he would die if he waited a moment longer, a doctor came through the doors.

“Mr. Hotchner?”

Aaron stood, bracing himself for the news.

“Is it alright if I speak in front of the group?”

“Yes, they’re family. Please, just— do you have news about my wife?”

“Sir,” the doctor continues with a look of concern. “You all may want to sit down for this.”

——————————————————————————

Tag list: @ange-must-die @agenthotchner @moonstuffsteve @poetsacademia @hotchners-slut @arganfics @ladyreapermc @rousethemouse @less-intelligent-spencerreid @tgibstan @themanip @word-scribbless @quillvine @glizzieborden @miss-united-ace @samayoshito

[moonbeamsung]

Winter Nights & City Lights

Because nothing says ‘Christmas’ like spending the big day (and not to mention the whole holiday season) in the Big Apple living with your high school friend-turned-roommate, Mark Lee.

member: mark (featuring johnny)

au: roommate!mark x gn!reader, college roommate au, christmas au, ‘the gift of the magi’ au/inspired

word count: 9.5k

genre: fluff, angst, slice of life

warnings: profanity, underage drinking, hangovers, insecurities, mentions of food and drink, money issues, embarrassing moments

author’s note: This fic is close to becoming my favorite that I’ve ever written. It’s also almost twice as long as I planned, not to mention that tumblr crashed right as I tried to post it so here I am, two hours later. Overall I had a blast writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it! Please let me know what you think, too! :,) Happy holidays! <3

taglist: @astroboy-lele​ @kisshim​ @radiorenjun​

network tags: @kpopscape​ @neo-constellations​ @starryktown​ @culture-cafe​ @dreamlab-nct​

“That parade was so cool! I mean, did you see the size of all those balloons? They were huge! I’ve never seen so many people all in one place before,” Mark chatters away like an excited child as you navigate through the crowd that always seems to grow bigger year after year, gathered along the curbs of the New York streets to watch the famed Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

“How are you not more excited about this?” He questions, and you stifle an amused giggle. “I’ve lived in the city for over a year, Mark. I’ve seen a thing or two.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.” The cold air only accentuates the blush on his face as he remembers that particular detail about you. It isn’t often that it’s demonstrated, however, considering you spend so much time cooped up inside of your shared apartment cramming in university work and studying. There are hardly any opportunities during the year to take in the sights of the concrete jungle you live in the very heart of, but luckily, one of your long-awaited breaks is coming up soon.

Thoughts of Christmas vacation are the only things keeping you going, along with countless cups of steaming hot coffee, as you prepare for exams in just a few weeks, weeks that seem to go by in a flurry of snow.

There’s less than three days left until your first one, but you’re nothing short of drained after pulling so many all-nighters, and you need a break. A breath of fresh air seems like just the cure for your burnout, so you slam your textbook shut and lethargically drag yourself off of the soft comforter you’ve been sitting on for the past two hours. You grimace at the deep imprint left behind.

Trudging through the living area, you knock softly on Mark’s bedroom door. A tired “Come in” sounds from the other side, and you push it open, immediately noticing his disheveled state. Eyes heavy with fatigue and lacking their usual sparkle of youthful innocence, he blinks back at you, “What’s up?”

“You look like you need a break just as much as I do,” you insist. His already-open mouth widens a bit more, “But... our first exam is on Monday, we can’t just—”

“Mark, come on, you’re one of the smartest people in our class. If anyone’s going to pass, it’s you.”

He huffs, “Maybe you have a point.”

“I do have a point, and you know it. A little walk in the park never hurt anyone, right?”

Mark rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, fingers raking through his dark locks before he musters up enough strength to push himself off of his bed and into a standing position.

“I’ll get my jacket.”

Central Park is a sight to behold on its own all year round, but something about the Christmas season makes it even more magical. You and Mark step at the same pace, your paths lined by metal benches blanketed in fresh snow. Even through the many layers of warmth you’re both wearing, the chilly air still nips at your skin. It’s Mark’s first time experiencing the holidays in New York City, and you’re determined to show him everything this real-life winter wonderland has to offer.

The story of how you two came to be roommates in the first place is an extremely lucky one. You met in high school, and had been part of the same group of friends along with six younger boys. Both Canadian, you’d been hoping to get into the same New York college since what felt like forever. The day that you received your acceptance letters in the mail was full of joy and celebration, but not even a week later, Mark got an unexpected scholarship to a local but prestigious university not far from where you lived that he simply couldn’t pass up.

Parting ways after graduation, you had thought you might never see each other again until you got a call from him. It was the day after your last exam of the spring semester in college and you were sitting on your two-person couch, feeling rather lonely. The number seemed too familiar, too good to be true, and scrambling to pick up the phone as it blared throughout your fairly small apartment, you answered with a shaky voice. Mark’s recognizable tone met your ears, and a wide smile met your face. Though he couldn’t see it, he could hear the happiness in your words.

As it turned out, his college had given him the opportunity to transfer to yours for the remainder of his four years, as their programs were closely linked and on similar levels. Graciously, he had accepted, and wanted you to be the first to know.

“So, uh... are you living with anyone?”

The question he dreaded asking more than anything else. Call him cliché, but he had the biggest crush on you in high school, much to his dismay and to the rest of his friends’ excitement. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to like you, but he feared that college could tear a potential relationship apart, regardless of whether or not you went to the same one.

As a result of this, he had never acted on his emotions. But he’s older now, and wiser, which leads him to believe that maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to maintain one, should he ever gain enough courage to ask you out.

“No, actually, I have my own apartment.”

Silence.

“...Are you looking for somewhere to stay?”

“Yes! Yes,” he replied a little too quickly, eager to accept what would hopefully be an invitation from you. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Well, my place isn’t the biggest, but you can live with me if you want to. Plus, we could split the rent between us!”

You’ve always liked Mark. He’s hardworking, kind, and humble, maybe a little too much of all these things for his own good. Even back in high school, you spent endless nights and very early mornings on the phone with him, trying to convince him to go to bed after he refused to stop studying. To reassure him that he did the right thing by ending that friendship, or to insist that he tell the teacher no one worked on the group project, so he did everything himself. You’ve been his shoulder to cry on for years, you’ve seen a side of him that he’s never been brave enough to show anyone else because they expect so much of him.

Mark knows he’s blessed to have had a picture-perfect childhood, a good family, and an education that was rigorous yet rewarding enough to prepare him for his next chapter in life. The pressures that came with being so lucky just got to him sometimes, and they made four years of high school seem more like fourteen.

You, on the other hand, didn’t quite have all the same luxuries that he did, but you still managed. He’s been there for you plenty of times, too. In your opinion, though, he’s the much more vulnerable one of the two of you, mainly to his cumbersome insecurities and shortcomings, however rare those shortcomings may be.

So in your mind, Mark Lee deserves the entire world and then some. The least you can do is share your apartment with him, either until he finds what you’re sure would be a much more desirable place to live, or if he wants to stay with you indefinitely.

What you don’t realize, and will eventually struggle to admit to yourself, is that your admiration for his perseverance and endless generosity is teetering rather precariously on the edge of blossoming into something more than just platonic.

“Sounds good, then. Thanks so much!” He had exclaimed, the sound of his pure excitement and gratefulness bringing a wave of heat to your face, and you were glad he wasn’t there in front of you to see it.

You talked a little bit more for the next few minutes, catching up and enjoying a lighthearted conversation about what you had both been up to. These sessions on the phone began to occur more and more frequently, turning into weekly, and soon daily, affairs. Mark planned to move in a couple weeks before school started again, giving himself some time to settle in and adapt to urban life in general. The calls became a highlight of your summer vacation, and every day without fail, you found yourself waiting to hear the unique ringtone you had set his contact to.

Less than twelve hours before Mark was scheduled to arrive at New York’s largest airport, you were on the phone with him just like always. The clock in your apartment chimed eleven o’clock, and as reluctant as you were to hang up, you knew you should turn in for the night. After all, the sooner you went to sleep, the sooner the morning would come. The morning you would meet him at the airport.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” His voice was hopeful. Slightly unsteady, but hopeful all the same.

“I guess so. What time does your plane land, again?” You confirmed the time you had scribbled down onto a neon yellow sticky note a few days earlier as he repeated the short string of numbers, nodding to no one in particular. Why did you feel so nervous? It’s just Mark, you had told yourself.

“Have a safe flight!”

He bade you goodnight in return, accidentally throwing in a “sweet dreams” before he could stop himself. When you put your phones down, you were both too busy trying to calm your racing pulses, however, so it didn’t matter. Mark collapsed onto his bed, hand bumping his duffel bag and heaving a sigh. You sank down into the couch cushion, closing your eyes and leaning your head against the back of the furniture. Neither of you could find the strength to stand in those moments, scared that your legs would give in from the unsteadiness of your nerves, your hearts, your emotions.

A singular worry occupied both of your minds from that point on until you greeted him in the JFK airport terminal the next morning, shy smiles on your faces: is it dangerous to enter into the impending situation of living together? Are you really ready to be in such constant close proximity to the object of your affections, however oblivious you might be to them?

Before his brain could talk his heart out of it, Mark had wrapped you in a tight hug, extra thankful for the welcome since you were all he had here, in the city. You wouldn’t have missed his arrival for the world, and you told him so. You also wouldn’t have missed the chance to make him flush a deep but adorable shade of red, reaching from his rounded cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

In your long-term rental car, you drove him back to your apartment, enjoying the quiet sounds of surprise and amazement that spilled from his lips, generated by the city’s sights. As you passed underneath towering skyscrapers, navigated bustling avenues, and caught glimpses of world-renowned landmarks that you both had seen only in the movies when you were younger, you just knew Mark’s eyes held their signature sparkle, despite your inability to see the dark brown orbs glimmer with wonder. You kept yours on the road ahead.

His first day was spent unpacking his suitcases and bags full of possessions, one of which was his most prized: an acoustic guitar.

It had been a gift from his parents when he finished the eighth grade, and all throughout high school, he had turned to music as an escape whenever he needed it. As any new musician does, Mark had played around with chords, experimenting and seeing what sounded good, and before you knew it he had composed a song. Another one followed, then another, and by the end of his freshman year he had written enough to fill an entire album if he so wished.

The guitar had heard every note, every lyric, carried every melody from his heart into the world. It had grown to be a part of him, a worldly sliver of his soul in the form of a simple musical instrument that could convey every hope and every dream, every concern or every frustration. Every love confession. Though that wasn’t saying much, since he only had eyes for you. You didn’t know it, but one of those songs was about you. For you.

You and Mark’s circle of friends tried to set you two up one day in the school’s band room after hours, with the excuse that the second-youngest of the group, Chenle, had forgotten his piano sheet music in there. They sent you to retrieve it, which you only agreed to do after being persuaded by the boy’s intimidating but still lovable pout.

With no sheet music in sight, your eyes landed instead on a diligent Mark that appeared to be the only sign of life in the room, plucking away at the strings as the sun set outside. You had sat with him for a while, neglecting your task and listening to him strum gracefully, softly murmuring lyrics that sounded like your name at one point. You didn’t think much of it, though, not making the connection behind the rest of the words coming out of his mouth and accompanying the chords. His love song was left unacknowledged by the subject of it themselves, and that was both the first and last time he ever attempted to confess to you.

He wondered if now that you were sharing an apartment, he would let something slip by accident. What would he do then?

University had other plans, though, and his fears were temporarily relieved. So fortunately and unfortunately, you were so occupied with schoolwork that trying to balance dating, or even mere thoughts of doing so, with all of your other responsibilities would have been exhausting, not to mention impossible.

Snapping out of your memory-induced daze, you realize that you nearly wandered off the path into a deep snowbank, only aware of this fact because Mark catches you by the wrist and pulls you back toward him to walk at his side. His fingers stay curled around your forearm as you approach a famous bridge, stepping to the side and gazing down at the icy waters below, calm and rippling with the chilly breeze.

“What do you want for Christmas?”

You honestly haven’t thought about it yet, so you can’t give Mark a definite answer. The same goes for him, both of you leaning against the brick railing in a comfortable silence.

In Mark’s mind though, he knows what he wants to give you: something to complement your own equivalent of his guitar, a large collection of handwritten letters and notes from your childhood and school days. Sentimental by nature, you had saved every colorful post-it note one of your friends would slip through the narrow slats of your locker, every birthday card received over the years, every thoughtful postcard from someone’s vacation.

Your favorites are undoubtedly the always-awkward Christmas cards that your friends’ families consistently mail out each December, by far the most humorous parts of your growing collection. You always found yourself chuckling at the pictures displayed on the front. Eyes bright with mirth, you would observe their forced smiles and arms slung carelessly over siblings’ shoulders, their eyes flickering between the camera and something going on behind it, probably the family pet getting into trouble across the yard. You pitied the photographers, surely beyond frustrated as they would try to get everyone to stand still for more than five measly seconds. Mouths were clamped shut and for a brief moment, the air was void of complaints of how itchy someone’s sweater was.

Then the camera would snap, capturing an image that was simply “good enough.” They’d plaster it on the card and in a few days, it would magically appear in the mailboxes of relatives and close friends. Grandparents would overlook the uncomfortable expressions and focus instead on how fast the kids were growing up. You didn’t blame them. Even in four years’ worth of cards, so much could change. In between fits of laughter, you’d stare in awe at the way your friends grew into their features, only becoming more handsome with time and some growing so tall that they even towered over their fathers. You always kept the letters they included, too, detailing the highlights of the year that was soon to come to an end by the time they dropped it into a nearby mailbox.

And like he could read your mind, Mark makes an offhand comment right then and there. “My folks texted me the other day to ask for our address. You know, for the Christmas card.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “Shame I couldn’t be there for the family photos this year.”

“Is it really a shame, though?” You prod, tilting your head a bit at the boy. “You always told me you couldn’t stand waiting around for the so-called ‘right lighting’ and all that.”

“Well, I couldn’t, but now that I’m not there I wish I could go back to those days. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, you know?”

“Right,” you sigh, thinking about how the same saying could easily apply to the way you felt about Mark all throughout your first year of university.

You have a box, made of a dark mahogany wood and lined with elegant golden trim, where you keep all of these letters, these handwritten memories and souvenirs from some of the happiest moments in your life. A gift from a past Christmas, your family had your initials engraved onto the front in a loopy cursive font, making it truly unique and utterly irreplaceable. And, you’ll soon come to realize, valuable.

Mark remembers it well, remembers the many times you’ve shown him its contents, remembers how his eyes sometimes land on the delicate container resting beneath the windowsill in your room, sunlight catching the accents. He knows how much those letters mean to you, and he also knows how much you love returning the favor.

That’s why he wants to give you the tools you need to do just that, and to do it well.

You’ve always been one for writing thank-you notes for any and every gift you receive, your parents having ingrained the habit in you since you were very young. Slowly, crayons turned into pencils and lead became ink. To this day you remain unfazed by the increasing amount of yellowing papers residing in the letter box, but the words imprinted on them never quite fade, strong enough to withstand the test of time.

Too many times in high school Mark would find you, hunched over your dining room table in frustration with a stack of letters beside your arm that you deemed “failed” because your handwriting was bad, or something of the sort. Usually it was the other way around, him being the one in need of comfort, but on those days your roles were reversed.

He had always wondered why you didn’t have fancier supplies that were more suited to your task, but he supposes now that maybe it simply wasn’t an option for you and your family. So a stationery set seems like the perfect gift for you this year.

On a similar note, you’ve already decided what you’re getting him: a guitar case. You happened upon a sleek leather one while browsing the website of a popular music store, coincidentally with a location not too far from your apartment.

Now it’s no longer a question of what to get the other, but how. As university students living on your own, money is scarce. Unknowingly, you both contemplate this concern as you walk side by side, returning to the start of the path that you set out on at least a half hour ago.

This stroll of yours was supposed to clear your minds, but why are they racing even more than before?

There’s no time to worry now, though, and for the next week, your thoughts are forced to shift back to the topic of school and midterms and all your academic endeavors.

Your exam week is over before you know it, and the two of you return to your apartment after the last one only to collapse onto your respective beds, beyond exhausted.

The dreary Friday afternoon clearly calls for a nap, but unbeknownst to you, Mark decides to seize the opportunity that has so conveniently presented itself to him: a chance for him to go out and buy your gift without suspicion. He drops his backpack on the carpet next to his dresser and sighs, wondering if what he’s about to do will be worth it. But it’s you, of course it’ll be worth it.

Thus, his next move is done with a heavy heart. He’s been forced by a lack of funds to come to a decision about your gift, and a difficult one at that. The only thing he can think of doing to even come close to affording a nice stationery set is to sell some things in exchange for cash. Namely, the most valuable item he owns: his beloved guitar. He doesn’t really want to, but deep down he knows that a true friendship warrants the occasional sacrifice. He’s done some research on a nearby pawn shop, and however sketchy those kinds of places may seem, it’s his only feasible option at the moment, with just a week left until Christmas Day.

After making sure you’re fast asleep, he not-so-stealthily slips out of your shared flat, his actions far from silent but even so, you don’t wake up. Mark winces at the unintended high volume of pulling the front door shut behind him, sticking his hand into his jeans pocket and relaxing when he feels his keys at the bottom of the fabric compartment. Guitar strung over his shoulder by the flimsy, fraying strap, he sets off.

With his phone in hand and directions to the pawn shop displayed on the screen, he strides through the lobby of the apartment building and pushes the revolving door, stepping onto the busy sidewalk and into the cold winter air. Shoppers crowd the pavement with hands full of department store tote bags, crinkling loudly as they pass by one another. Shoulders knock together and heels click against the concrete, just some of the many sounds of the city that Mark is still growing used to hearing.

A few blocks and several wrong turns later, he finds himself on a quieter street, standing in front of the shop. It’s dimly lit inside and looks almost abandoned, the letters painted on the window chipped and faded from the wear and weather of past years. A soft bell rings when he lets himself in, searching for some sort of employee.

From behind a cluttered shelf a tall man emerges, the shabby name tag pinned to his vest reading “Johnny.” Well, he’s not some shifty-eyed, balding man wearing a muscle shirt stained with grease. New York continues to be full of surprises.

His dark hair looks neat, the jacket he’s wearing free of any wrinkles and face young but chiseled, high cheekbones prominent.

“How can I help you today?” Johnny booms, stepping behind the counter and absentmindedly sifting through some loose change in bottom of the cash register.

Mark gulps, “I’d like to sell something.” Still not entirely sure he wants to do this, he instinctively tugs on the strap resting atop the fabric of his wool jacket.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Johnny assures with a small laugh. “What did you have in mind?”

Taking a deep breath, Mark slides the guitar off his shoulder and holds it near his chest for a moment, before extending his arms out towards the counter.

“A guitar, huh? We don’t see many of these,” the tall man comments. “Are you sure? It seems pretty valuable to you in more ways than one.”

Mark’s fingertips trace the strings for the last time and he decides to just get it over with, before he can change his mind. His hands are shaky as he gently places the instrument down on the counter in front of Johnny, taking a step back once he’s done so. “I don’t have much of a choice. I need the money to buy a gift for my… uh, my friend.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, “Just a friend? Or a special someone?”

“They are special,” Mark confirms, noncommittal to either title that Johnny suggested.

“They must be if you’re willing to give up something like this for them. Okay, that’ll be…”

Johnny tells him what the guitar is worth, matching the amount with a stack of cash and a few old coins, rusty but still holding their value.

Despite the pain of letting something so meaningful go, a bit of joy creeps into Mark’s heart as he realizes that now he can give you a gift that will hopefully become just as meaningful to you as his guitar was to him.

He thanks Johnny and bids him goodbye, step lighter than when he entered, much to his surprise.

It’s the next day when you and Mark find yourselves getting into the Christmas spirit for the first time this season. After he had returned yesterday, you were still out cold on your bed, so he chose to follow your example and do the same. The both of you had slept the rest of the day and almost the entirety of the following morning away, waking up just before noon.

With a sudden burst of energy you spring up from the sheets, overtaken by your excitement for the nearing holiday as you dig out the artificial Christmas tree you had bought last year from your closet. Sure, it may seem lazy of you, but let’s face it: there was no easy way to find a real one in New York City, let alone lug it down the streets, through an elevator and down a narrow hallway to a door it wouldn’t even fit through.

Mark hears the loud rustling of various decorations as he begins to stir, leisurely getting out of bed and checking one of his dresser drawers to make sure he hadn’t merely dreamed up his shopping adventure of the previous evening. There the stationery set sits, tucked safely at the back of the wooden cabinet.

The bookstore he stopped at on his way back last night had many different options to choose from, so he made sure to get one that both matched your box of letters and reminded him of you, with its color scheme and style. A surge of pride brings a smile to his features, pleased with his choice, and he pushes the drawer shut before joining you in the living area.

Your knees brush as he sits down next to you to help unpack the large but manageable box, taking out the tiers of the tree to eventually stack on top of one another. Working more quickly than usual (and probably necessary, there are six days left after all), you assign Mark to stringing the lights across your small balcony while you finish setting up the tree. You knew you shouldn’t have let him do it alone, though, because when you look over at his progress you find more lights wrapped around his body than the metal railing.

“Do you need a hand?” You question, holding back a laugh at the way the cord restricts his arm movements to the point where he can’t even reach for the handle on the sliding door.

From outside he opens his mouth to reply, but pauses, looking down at himself and the mess he’s made of the lights before meeting your eyes once more. His voice is muffled by the glass, but you hear him shout playfully, “I’m the tree now! We don’t need that one.” He tries to gesture to the one you’re currently decorating, but fails, and this time you aren’t able to contain your amusement.

“Let me help you,” you offer, joining him on the balcony and helping him untangle himself from the glowing strands. “Thanks,” Mark replies, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. With your combined efforts, you manage to thread the string of lights through the railing with little to no mishaps, and both of you continue decking out the apartment with other seasonal items for the next several hours.

At some point during the afternoon one of you decided to connect their phone to a speaker and play some music, all Christmas songs of course. As the classic version of “Jingle Bell Rock” begins to blare throughout the living room, Mark abandons his task momentarily to walk over to you. He extends a hand down to you, sitting on the floor, and you accept the invitation to stand up with a questioning look.

“Dance with me?”

It’s hardly a platonic request, Mark realizes once the words leave his lips, but even so you don’t shy away, glancing down at your feet with a slight trace of bashfulness in the action.

He intertwines your fingers somewhat loosely, placing his non-dominant hand on your waist and beginning to sway, slowly at first but then his movements become more exaggerated, shoulders tilting dramatically to one side after the other and straying from the rhythm of the music. You join Mark in drawing out the jesting movements, losing yourself in laughter and leaning forward to bury your face in his shoulder, the heat of your breath hitting his skin through the thin t-shirt he’s wearing. In one last attempt to keep the joyful smile on your face, he steps back a bit and holds your wrist above your head to twirl you in a circle.

The electric guitar in the song fades as you collapse onto the carpet, recovering from your fit of giggles. The sun has begun to sink in the sky, you can tell by the gold and orange glow that your apartment becomes bathed in as it sets, inching closer to the horizon and eventually becoming hidden by tall skyscrapers in the distance.

Satisfied with your progress so far, you both decide to call it a day, though in truth there aren’t many decorations left to put out. A few stray ornaments and some garlands remain, still packed up in boxes that you would need help reaching. You’re also eager to get your mind off of the way your heart was palpitating as you danced with Mark, your roommate and friend but nothing more, nothing less. You have enough to worry about at the moment, not wanting to add potential feelings for the boy into the mix. Shit, you think, you still need to buy his gift.

“What should we watch?” Mark asks, scrolling through the list of movie choices on the TV screen.

“I don’t really care, anything’s fine.”

His finger presses a button on the remote to select a film at random, the intro playing as you scan the refrigerator shelves for a frozen meal. Hopefully it’s not one of those cheesy holiday romances.

Settling down on the couch a few minutes later, you with the warmed-up container in your lap and Mark holding a cup of ramen noodles, both of you fall into a comfortable chatter about the movie. Thank god it’s a comedy.

Occasionally you find yourself diverting your attention from the harsh display and directing it over to the panes of floor-to-ceiling windows, where you watch more and more lights flicker on in the distance, illuminating the urban landscape as night falls. The view is breathtaking, but so is the way your face softly glows with their warmth, even from blocks away. Not that Mark would ever tell you that, of course.

“I’m going out!” Mark hears shuffling from outside his bedroom the next morning, your voice instantly bringing him to his senses. Curious, he shoots out of bed and flings the door open to find you, one arm stuck through the sleeve of your coat and the other buried in a bag, but it’s not the one you usually bring when you leave the flat. Eyes wide and panicked at the boy’s unexpected appearance, you clutch it to your chest with a visible amount of difficulty, Mark notices.

“Where are you off to?” He squints at the brightness of the living room, the early morning light pouring in through the glass on the far wall.

“...Maybe I can’t tell you,” you respond with a huff, slinging the heavy bag over your shoulder and pulling the rest of your coat on.

“What do you mean, you can’t—oh.”

“Nice going, genius,” you shake your head, feigning disappointment. “It’s not like it’s Christmas this week or anything.”

“My bad, sorry.” Mark winces and rakes a hand through his bedhead, abashed.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

With that, you step into the hallway and offer a parting smile over your shoulder, shutting the front door behind you.

At least your being out of the apartment gives Mark time to wrap your gift. All he has to do is figure out how.

Johnny gets a familiar feeling when he sees you enter the pawn shop, fumbling with your things and reluctantly gazing at whatever’s in the tote you’re holding. Are you also about to make an exchange you could potentially regret?

“One second,” you excuse yourself as you step up to the counter, placing the heavy bag down and removing the large item from inside: your letter box, minus its contents. Of course you would never get rid of those, but despite the letters and notes being so special to you, the box they were always kept in is also a significant part of your attachment and the memories you hold dear.

With a thud you set it down, Johnny glancing between the hesitation on your face and the wooden container on the counter in front of him. “Let me guess, you want to exchange this for cash?”

“Yes, sir, that’s exactly what I—” You pause, biting your tongue. “Hold on… Look, I know this is a pawn shop and that’s what people do here, but how are you so sure?”

Johnny’s gut tells him he shouldn’t give away the fact that a boy wearing the very same expression and with the same sense of purpose and determination was in here just two days earlier. So he corrects his mistake with a simple “Lucky guess” and a hearty chuckle.

Without Johnny even asking, you tell him that you’re also looking for some extra cash in order to afford a gift for your “friend,” and you say the word with so much conviction and certainty that it’s almost laughable. The information given to Johnny helps him fully connect the dots in his mind, realizing that each of you are the one the other talked about.

Before handing you the money, Johnny tears off a sheet of paper from a nearby notepad and asks you to fill out your information, most importantly your address. He has to lie a bit, saying it’s for contact purposes, but his heart is in the right place nonetheless. Just in case something goes south (and the sinking feeling in his stomach tells him that it will somehow), doing so gives him an option, even if he doesn’t know what that option might be yet.

“Thank you, Johnny, and Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas!” He returns your wish cheerfully as you push the door open to leave.

“Good luck finding a gift for your ‘friend,’ too.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks when you see his teasing use of air quotes, but still smile.

On your way back to the apartment Mark texts you and asks you to check the mail, saying he forgot to do so yesterday. When you arrive in the lobby and make your way over to the cluster of mailboxes, you’re instantly shocked to find a large cardboard box shoved into the small cubby with your and Mark’s name on it. You’re already struggling to carry the guitar case you bought for him, so you decide to make a second trip later.

A few moments after stepping out of the elevator, you knock on the door to your apartment, hoping with all your might that Mark won’t actually open it and instead just answer with a “Come in” as he always does. Your wish is, thankfully, granted, but it’s quickly followed by “Wait, wait, wait!” As it happens, he just finished wrapping your gift and needs another minute or two to tuck it away somewhere until the big day arrives. “Can you stay out there until I say?”

“Sure,” you reply, “but I’m going to have to ask you to do the same.”

“How about I stay in my room while you come in and do… whatever you need to?”

“Sounds good.”

With his door closed, Mark hears the front one open and shut as you enter. Trying not to make any noise that would give away the size of the item you just bought, you finally settle for hiding the leather case underneath your bed, concealed by the drapery attached to its frame that hovers just above the floor.

Mark had hastily placed the now-wrapped (though not elegantly so) stationery set back into his dresser, so he’s already out of his room by the time you leave yours. “Any letters or packages?” He questions when he sees you.

“Oh, right!” You snap your fingers, “We do have a package but my hands were full, so I’ll bring it up right now.”

“Eggnog?”

While the box had looked fairly ordinary from the outside, upon opening it and glancing at the return address you learned it was actually anything but that. Mark’s and your parents had sent a holiday care package of sorts, including both of your families’ Christmas cards and a carton of eggnog, along with some small gifts that are meant to be saved for the morning of the 25th. Also mixed in are a few small decorations (not that you need more), some baking supplies complete with a copy of the recipe for the cookies you make every year, and a soft pair of mittens for each of you. He hopes you don’t realize that one of the items is a sprig of mistletoe.

“You don’t like eggnog?” You ask, stunned. Mark shrugs, “I don’t really care for milk but it’s the thought that counts, I guess.”

That evening you and Mark take another stroll, this time choosing to stay on the streets and admire the festively adorned buildings and shops as you pass by them. Admiring Christmas lights at this time of year is nothing new to you and Mark. In fact, when you lived in Canada you would do the same thing. The only difference is that back then, it involved driving through quiet suburban neighborhoods and not ambling through crowded city streets and alleyways on foot.

Snowflakes begin to cascade from the heavens as you make your way back around to the block where you live. Mark sticks his tongue out to catch one of the small crystals, and it immediately melts in his mouth, eliciting a high-pitched laugh from the boy. Snow is also something you both are more than used to by now, having grown up with white Christmases all your lives. It makes you wonder if the holiday season would be the same without it.

“You know what we should do?” Mark turns to you just as you’re about to enter the apartment building again. “Go ice skating at Rockefeller Center.”

“Mark, c’mon, you know stuff like that is overpriced. And besides, I can’t skate to save my life. Remember—”

“That time in sophomore year? You bet I do,” he laughs as he remembers how you clumsily fell not even two seconds after stepping onto the ice with your skates, and then refused to let go of the railing for the rest of the day. The elevator whirs to life, climbing floor after floor with ease.

“Hey,” you offer, “we can still go and watch people skate, I’m sure there’s some place to sit.”

“And we can look at the Christmas tree, too,” Mark adds, eyes brightening at the idea.

“Right. I forget you haven’t seen it in person before.” The cabin doors open with a ding and you step out, your eyes landing on the door to your apartment a few yards away.

When you turn on the TV, Mark becomes mesmerized by the movie that’s playing, since it takes place in NYC and he recognizes so many places from actually being there. He scrambles to remove his jacket and beanie, plopping down onto the couch once they’re safely hooked on the coat rack.

Watching him, you sigh. Would anything really change if you were dating? Assuming your feelings were returned, of course, but you can’t imagine that your relationship would differ much. You certainly wouldn’t go on extravagant dates, or buy expensive gifts for each other, but that’s not what love is about, anyway. With the exception of a few extra hugs and the addition of kisses, along with more forms of physical affection in general (actually, scratch that, Mark’s always been awkward with those kinds of things), you’d still be by each other’s side just like always.

As you sit down next to him and feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, you don’t shrug it off, instead embracing the warm and fuzzy feeling in your heart that you can’t blame on the holiday season this time.

Mark’s glad, too. He’s been working up the courage to do that all day.

Late that night, you quietly tiptoe into the living area, retrieving an old box from your move-in last year that will fit his gift perfectly, and won’t give away what’s inside. Your hands fold and tape the wrapping paper with care, tying a neat ribbon once you’re done. Sure, you had to give up something that meant a lot to you in order to afford Mark’s present, but the gains outweigh the losses. You find comfort in imagining the way his face will surely light up with pure joy on Christmas morning, drifting off to sleep with ease once you’ve hidden the rectangular parcel back underneath your bed.

A few days pass and soon it’s the 23rd, and you join Mark at the railing of the ice rink, of course on the side with solid ground. “Ice is solid ground,” Mark had corrected, but you stood firm in your words. “More like slippery ground, if you ask me.”

Luckily you had been allowed to stand here for free, because god only knows what small, simple thing someone would be charged for in New York. It’s happened to you before, and you’re not even a tourist.

Mark’s dark eyes gaze up at the 75-foot-tall tree in wonder, pupils dilating and reflecting the tens of thousands of bright lights strung through the dark green branches. They seem to sparkle with sheer amazement. Just then someone skates a little too close to the section of railing you’re leaning on, startling Mark out of his LED-induced daze and putting the most adorable look of surprise on his face.

His focus shifts to the people on the ice, wearing sweaters and jackets of every color imaginable, and the sight is still as beautiful as the looming Christmas tree above. He notices some couples, holding onto one another or skating hand-in-hand, and it makes him wonder if that could be you two someday, at a future Christmas, or if it’s an idea absurd enough for an alternate reality.

Mark sees you shiver out of the corner of his eye, and it’s his cue to suggest returning home for the evening. In a very cliché and boyfriend-esque gesture he offers you his jacket, but you decline, insisting that it’s not far and assuring him that you’ll be okay.

Back in your heated flat, you twist open the lid of the eggnog carton and pour a small glass for yourself. “Are you sure you don’t want some?” You call out to Mark from the kitchen, snatching one of the cookies you made the other day and finding a paper plate for the thin shortbread wafer, lined with elegant white icing and dusted with sprinkles.

“I already told you, I don’t like eggnog!”

“Have you even tried it before?” Mark grumbles at your nagging. You really sound like his mom right now.

“No…”

You appear at the other end of the couch, holding out a small cup with just a sip or two of eggnog in it. “Try it. You never know.”

He knows you won’t leave until you see him lift it to his lips for yourself, so he does. Immediately the sweet drink overwhelms his taste buds, and also leaves a slight sting on his tongue.

“What’s in this stuff?” He coughs, nose scrunching a bit from the strong taste. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t hate it. Following you back to the kitchen, Mark pours a full glass this time, already gulping it down.

“Uh,” you scan the ingredients on the back of the carton once he sets it down on the counter, “milk, cream, sugar, eggs…”

“...whiskey? What the hell?”

“It has alcohol,” Mark slurs, his giggling interrupted by a hiccup. Having never drank before, he’s undeniably a lightweight, and even a little bit can get him wasted almost instantly.

“Mom and Dad must have mixed something up, because they definitely didn’t mean to send us alcoholic eggnog.”

Sure enough, back home in Canada your parents are wondering why they only have the kid-friendly stuff in their fridge.

Mark latches on to you, arm curling lazily around your waist. Great, he’s one of those people that gets clingy when they’re drunk. “Try some,” he whines, nuzzling into your shoulder a little.

“Are you crazy?”

“No one will know,” he laughs, hiccuping again. Giving in to his adorably drunken pout, you take one sip from your original glass but no more, an unpleasant buzz taking over your whole mouth.

Not looking forward to finding a hangover cure on Christmas Eve of all days, you pray that you’ll stay sober enough to take care of the tipsy boy, who’s currently pressing his face into the back of your neck and—shit, did he just kiss you there? You really don’t need this right now.

“Mark, you’re drunk, okay? Stop it,” you caution.

“But I love you,” he murmurs, warm breath fanning your skin, and you want to kick yourself for almost saying it back. Does he even mean it, though? Alcohol makes people say crazy things, things they don’t mean, so you shouldn’t get your hopes up. You unhook his arm from your torso and turn around to push against his chest, frustrated. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He seems to have just remembered something, because he ignores you and instead goes over to where the care package was still sitting, digging into the bottom and pulling out something you hadn’t noticed before. “Look,” Mark declares in a nasal voice, “mistletoe.”

You exasperatedly hang your head, desperate to slam it into the nearest wall. With much difficulty, you eventually manage to get him tucked underneath the blanket, leaving a glass of water on his nightstand for when he wakes up. “Get some sleep,” you say simply.

He tells you goodnight with a fond mumble of your name as you shut the bedroom door behind you. Rubbing your eyes, you yawn before turning off the lights and heading to bed yourself, trying to block out the events that had just taken place.

Your head aches when you wake up the next morning, and you feel like garbage, so you can only imagine how much worse Mark must be doing. Quickly chugging a water bottle, you reluctantly go to knock on his door, hearing a pained groan once you enter. He’s sitting up, chin resting in one hand and the other anchored onto the heavy comforter covering his legs.

“How are you feeling?” The obvious question with an even more obvious answer makes Mark wince. “Awful.”

“Sorry.” It’s silent for a moment, Mark pressing three fingers to his throbbing forehead and you staring aimlessly at the wall. “I knew that eggnog was a bad idea.”

“You were the one that told me to try it!”

“I didn't know it had alcohol in it!”

You sigh, dejected. Something tells Mark that your head isn’t the only thing hurting.

“Hey, I know that look. What’s wrong?” He prods, voice soft and gentle and altogether unlike how it had been last night. You meet his eyes for a moment, about to speak but biting your lip at the last second. Mark’s brain puts two and two together at your expression.

“Oh god, did I say something? Do something?”

“Yeah, actually,” you reply in a huff. “First you kissed my neck, then you told me you loved me, and then you held up a clump of mistletoe and implied that we should kiss underneath it.”

His memories of the previous evening are all a blur, so he truly would have no idea what happened if you hadn’t just said something. Mark knows he screwed up, bad.

You tense when you feel him place his hand over yours, but you don’t snatch it away. After collecting his thoughts, Mark clears his throat.

“Look, I… I know that’s not the best way for you to find out how someone feels about you. But I’m completely sober, and I can tell you that I meant what I said last night.”

“You promise?”

“Promise,” Mark replies.

“...Can you say it again, then?”

He blushes, “That I…?”

You nod, the corners of your lips lifting into a small smile.

“I love you,” Mark tells you for the second time in the last 24 hours, but this time you know you can believe him. The pain of your hangover goes away for a moment as he takes your jaw in his hands and connects your lips, just barely retaining the buzz of the alcohol but not enough to bother you. Slowly you kiss him back, sinking down onto the mattress beside him.

Mark pulls away for air a few seconds later, thumb grazing your cheek lovingly. “Does this mean we’re—”

“Dating? If you want it to, then sure,” your finger traces swirly shapes on the small of his back while you assure him that neither of you need to rush into anything if you aren’t ready.

“I don’t want things to change, though.”

“Who said they have to? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and we’re already pretty close, you know? Making it ‘official’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘different,’ so...”

Mark hums in agreement, “You’re right. Okay, I can live with that.”

“And I can’t live another second without food. I’m making breakfast,” you quip, reverting back to the usual banter between you and him.

“I’ll cook the eggs,” Mark insists as you both make your way out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

“You absolutely will not!”

The night before Christmas had started out unlike any that you’d ever experienced before, with you confronting your now-boyfriend about a drunken love confession the previous day. But now, it’s ending just like every year, with you cozy and curled up in front of the television as the last few segments of the news play.

It’s the coldest Christmas Eve in years. You learned this after the meteorologist had informed viewers of the record only a few minutes earlier, inadvertently planting an idea in Mark’s mind.

Right as you’re about to turn in for the night, setting a plate of decorated cookies and a glass of milk down on the end table (as is tradition in your families, no matter how old you are), Mark holds out his arms like a child might. “Can we…?” He asks in a quiet voice, nervous to finish his sentence.

“Huh?”

The boy inhales sharply, “It’s freezing. Do you wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” His cheeks flush a deep red that’s almost the color of Christmas itself.

You’re slightly taken aback, and then you remember it’s just Mark. “Sure, why not,” you answer with a light shrug and a smile on your face.

“But no funny business,” you inform him as you climb under the sheets together, instantly happy with your choice to join him because double the people means double the body heat. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mark replies, pecking your lips. His wrist finds the warm skin of your neck and you flinch away.

“Your hands are cold!” He just snickers at your whining.

The two of you fall asleep more quickly than you ever have on Christmas Eve, usually overcome with nerves and excitement, but now, as two college-aged kids, you’re comfortable and not rushing the morning’s arrival at all, content in each other’s arms for the moment.

You feel like you’re 10 years old again as you rush into the living room at 8am the next day, the bright, early morning sky lighting up your entire apartment. At the base of your Christmas tree sits a humble amount of presents, composed of the two that you bought for each other plus the half-dozen small ones from your parents.

You hand Mark one of the cookies from the end table and grab one for yourself, taking a bite of the sweet treat as you sit down and motioning for him to do the same.

“Open yours first,” you say eagerly, referring to your gift for him. Mark shakes his head and points to what he got you, “No, you go first.”

“Fine, we’ll open them at the same time.” Mark nods, satisfied with the compromise and handing you both the packages.

“On three. One, two…”

The final number barely leaves your lips before you both begin tearing into the paper excitedly, Mark reaching for the flaps on the box and you unfolding the tissue paper.

When you each see what the other gifted you with, it’s completely silent, save for the TV playing a Christmas Day special in the background.

He gazes blankly at you, licking his lips as his eyes dart between the guitar case and your expression.

“I appreciate the gift, but I…” Mark pauses, unsure how to tell you this.

You don’t say a word, raising your eyebrows as a signal for him to continue.

“I sold my guitar to pay for your gift,” he breathes.

“You what? Mark, that guitar means everything to you! Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re worth it, of course!”

“Well, I did the same thing,” you break the news with an unamused expression. “I sold my letter box to pay for that case.”

His eyes become impossibly wider at that, nearly bulging out of their sockets. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

You groan and lie down on the floor, beyond discouraged. “Let me guess, the pawn shop on 23rd?”

“Yep.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” An idea hits Mark like a rush of cold air. “Maybe we can work out a deal or something.”

“Meaning?”

“We go back and see if we can trade in our new gifts for enough money to get our old things back.”

“One, I doubt it’s that easy, and two, pretty much everything is closed on Christmas Day.” You’re half tempted to laugh because of how ironic this situation is.

Mark sighs, “I guess that makes sense.”

“We can still try, though.”

Sure enough, the pawn shop is dark, even more so than usual, and the door doesn’t budge. A sign taped to the window from the inside confirms your fear: Closed on Christmas. Gloved hands pressed onto the glass, you and Mark admit your defeat. You had been bested by the giving spirit of the holiday season, almost too generous for your own good.

But it’s the message that the day itself stands for after all, for putting aside material value and doing something out of the kindness of your heart just to make someone else happy. That’s what it’s all about, and you and Mark had personally experienced it this year.

So you’re surprised to find two boxes leaning on the wall beside the door to your apartment the next morning, shapes oddly familiar. Could it be?

Just hours earlier, the hallway surveillance cameras caught a tall man striding down the corridor, carrying those exact packages under his arms. In the video he pulls out a scrap of paper and a pen from his coat pocket, scribbling a short message before tucking it underneath the ribbon of the larger parcel and leaving the building just as quickly as he came.

You and Mark’s only clue as to who had returned your items is a messy ‘J’ at the end of the note attached to the box containing his guitar. Exchanging knowing glances, you both grin, squeezing your intertwined hands with the same name in mind.

...So what if Johnny had to take a bit of money out of his own paycheck to cover the cost of the items? Besides, it’s Christmas. And his boss never has to know.

[retrievablememories]

the honeymooners | taemin (m)

title: the honeymooners pairing: taemin x reader genre: smut, angst, fluff request: “Taemin and his new bride get into a fight at the hotel they’re staying at in China because she saw her ex and was all touchy(not purposely) and he was jealous that other men looked at her despite she being HIS wife so he reminds her who she married after they get back to their hotel room and he shows her how much he loves her body & soul as they make love and after he apologizes for being so angry,tells her he loves her so much+is blessed to her hubby and can’t wait to have kids with her. ❤️” word count: 4.1k warnings: oral (female receiving), exhibitionism, unprotected sex (don’t try at home 🤪), creampie

For your honeymoon, you and Taemin decided to spend a few weeks in Shanghai. Everything was planned out ahead of time to make sure you’d have the best time possible — from the hotel you were staying in to the things you were going to see around the city.

Things had been going well for the first few days — just as well as you hoped and wished they would, and you honestly couldn’t imagine asking for anything more perfect. Well, that is, up until one particular night at the hotel where you were staying at.

You and Taemin had decided to eat dinner there that night instead of going somewhere else within the city, being a little worn out from all the sightseeing and activities and not wanting to make another long trip back and forth, so you headed to the hotel’s dining room.

Partly, though, you also suspected that Taemin didn’t want to spend anymore time out in the city because he was a little incensed about all the stares you were getting. Wherever you went that day, there were at least one or two men looking your way, perhaps a little more closely than they should’ve been. It hadn’t been an unusual thing to get stares since you arrived in Shanghai—you were a foreigner in a new land—but today, it was more intense.

Taemin had enough sense not to blame it on you or what you were wearing, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still going to be angry with the men who were looking at you. He’d held your hand a little tighter, pulled you around the waist more closely, leaned in more than necessary to hear your words whenever you spoke to him. He wanted people to know you were taken—though it was already obvious and didn’t seem to deter the glances either way.

You’d tried to laugh the lingering looks off, but Taemin didn’t find it as nearly as amusing as you did. Still, you continue to hope that you can steer his mind away from this subject once you get to the dining room and start on your meal.

“Everything is so fancy here,” you say after you’ve taken your seats at a table. “I’m glad we chose this hotel. You don’t get to see this kind of luxury everyday.’

“I’m glad, too.” Taemin scans his eyes across the room, taking in its elegance and beauty in a way that he hadn’t got to do when you’d first arrived in the city. Already, he feels a little more calm after getting away from the prying gazes of so many people out on the streets.

However, something out of the ordinary soon catches his attention. “Isn’t that…?” Taemin pauses and cocks an eyebrow when he sees a familiar face across the room—one he’d rather not recognize. Your ex-boyfriend.

“Who?” you ask, but your question is immediately answered when you also see the man standing across the other side of the room. “Jesus, is that Joseph?”

“He works as a waiter here? Of all hotels in the world?” Taemin says, instantly looking a bit disgruntled. If he’d somehow known that, he honestly never would’ve booked this place, but it’s far too late to do anything about that. Maybe that’s an extreme way to try to avoid your spouse’s ex, but Taemin didn’t want to have anything to do with the man and wasn’t interested in starting now.

You and Taemin were friends long before you began a relationship and got married, and this particular ex was one Taemin was never quite fond of. Back when you and Joseph were still together, he always liked to make a show of having you on his arm and engaging in PDA at every possible opportunity. You, thinking it was a funny and cute way of showing affection, didn’t have much to say about it at first, but it annoyed Taemin to no end. 

It seemed to Taemin that Joseph did everything he could to show you off as a trophy. Not because he genuinely felt anything for you, but because he simply liked being able to say you were his. He even liked the attention and envy that came from other women who’d wished they were his instead, even if it ended up with you being embroiled in drama.

Maybe that was just Taemin being petty back when he didn’t even realize he loved you, but he still swears there were a hundred other reasons besides those to dislike the man. Besides, he felt more justified in his theory when, after breaking up with Joseph, you told Taemin you felt your relationship was just too surface-level, no matter how hard you tried to get closer to him.

“It really is a small world,” you say, though Taemin sees more irony than humor in it. 

As if the luck couldn’t get any better, Joseph ends up being the waiter assigned to your table for the night. Taemin has to suppress the urge to roll his eyes at Joseph’s recognition of you two, complete with the overdone gasping and the shocked eyes about to pop out of his head. If there’s one thing he’ll do, he’ll put on a show.

“Wow, Y/N! It’s been a long time, I would’ve never thought I’d see you here of all places! Funny how fate works, huh?” Joseph reaches out to shake your hand, and Taemin’s eyes squint at the sight of his hand in yours.

“Aha, yeah, it’s really ironic, isn’t it?” Your smile is kind enough, but you still feel a bit awkward about the whole situation.

Joseph turns his attention to Taemin, who is sitting with a half-smile, half-grimace on his face. “Congratulations on your marriage, by the way! I’m really glad Y/N found someone who’ll take care of her.”

“Uh, thank you.” It wouldn’t have been you anyway, Taemin thinks to himself, and smirks a little.

“How ironic that her future husband was her best friend all along...you know, I still remember when you used to wear that bowl cut.” Joseph laughs good-naturedly, probably thinking he’s just making a light joke, but Taemin isn’t quite so entertained by it.

“Ah, yes! Remember when you couldn’t grow a beard?” Both men laugh, though Joseph’s chuckle is a little bit more strained at that unwelcome memory. You laugh too, but only to try to keep the mood light and avoid making the situation even weirder than it already is.

“Um well, I’m gonna see what’s available if you guys aren’t done reminiscing on old times just yet...” you say, hastily flipping through the menu for something that looks good. Joseph takes your drink orders and goes off to prepare them, leaving the two of you to silently breathe a sigh of relief at his departure.

Taemin peeks at you from over the top of his menu, shaking his head slightly. He glances to the side as he does so, as if he expects the other man to still be watching your table. “This is going to be a long night.”

“It’ll only be that way if you already believe it is,” you counter. “Everything is fine. Just enjoy the meal, and we’ll be back up to the room soon enough.”

Unfortunately, you don’t yet have the ability to predict the future, so the night ends up being more uncomfortable than you anticipated it would. You maintain a polite manner with Joseph whenever he comes over to serve you two, but he does little things that seem to edge the line of “platonic,” like touching your hand or your shoulder a little too frequently. 

Taemin bites his tongue only because he doesn’t want to start an argument with the man and make you upset on your honeymoon, but he’s also irritated with seeing him touching you almost like you’d never broken up. Like he did when he used to parade you around as if you were a state fair prize.

As always, Joseph is there when Taemin has paid the bill and you’re both ready to leave, and Taemin grits his teeth when he gives you a parting hug as you stand up from the table. In Taemin’s perspective, his eyes linger too long on your form in your evening gown, and his hands take too long to separate from where they’re holding your arms. “Don’t hesitate to reach out if you ever feel like catching up, okay?”

You nod, feeling a little embarrassed because you know Taemin is fuming beside you, but you don’t want to be rude and cause a scene. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Joseph turns to Taemin and shakes his hand. “Nice to see you after so long, buddy. Take good care of her; you’ve gotten really lucky.”

Taemin squeezes his palm a little harder than what’s socially appropriate. If the other man notices this, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Taemin’s smile is fake and obviously doesn’t reach his eyes, but he forces one anyway.

You and Taemin leave the dining area arm-in-arm, though you feel he’s a little stiff beside you. You aren’t even sure what to say, still reeling from the situation yourself, though you do know you feel both guilty and irritated. “Look...I know that didn’t go very well. But please try to relax, Taemin. Honeymoons aren’t for being angry with each other.”

“You’re right. They aren’t. And yet...” Taemin’s tone is dry. “How can he be so bold? Hugging a married woman like that. He’s always been unbearable.”

“He was just...happy to see us! I don’t think he meant it as something deeper than that.”

“He was happy to see you,” Taemin argues. “He just wanted to get on my nerves. Do you really think it was normal for him to be touching you all night like that?”

You shake your head and sigh. “No, but what could I do? Throw a fit in the dining room and get kicked out? See, this is why I said you need to relax. Everything doesn’t need some overblown response.”

Taemin doesn’t heed your words, though; the ball is rolling now and you know it probably won’t stop. “Would you feel happy if it were the other way around?” he continues as you get on the elevator to go back to your floor. “I’m the one who’s married to you, yet I’m feeling like some kind of third wheel to all these men.”

“Okay, I get it. I wouldn’t be happy either, but none of this was my intention, Taemin.”

“I never said it was,” he sighs, and you get the sense that he’s frustrated you aren’t quite getting what he’s trying to convey. He doesn’t volunteer any more words after this, and you aren’t in the mood to try to pry further.

You’re both quiet for the rest of the ride up to your floor, with you having no clue what to say to rectify the mess and Taemin being too busy trying to sort out his own emotions.

When you get to the room, you decide to head for the shower alone—a contrast to the other times when you could barely peel Taemin off you this past week—and get ready for bed. You didn’t expect to be dealing with conflict during your honeymoon, but you guess it’s a first introduction to what married life will be like. You toss your shoes somewhere off to the side, sighing to yourself.

“Wait,” Taemin says as he sees you making a beeline for the bathroom. You glance back to him, though you keep half your body turned the other way, thinking he will try to continue arguing his point about why he’s upset. “I want to show you something.”

You hesitate for a moment, wondering what he could possibly be talking about. “Show me what?

Taemin steps closer, diminishing the space between you, and despite yourself, you're curious to see what he’s up to. You soon find out just what his plans are when he kisses you. You hesitate for a moment when you feel his lips on yours, but you eventually respond to the gesture.

Taemin’s hand goes to one strap of your dress and tugs it so it falls down your shoulder. You part from him for a moment to glance at the fallen strap. “Now you want to do this? After getting all worked up earlier?” you ask, raising your eyebrows at his action.

“I can get angry about it if I want; you’re my wife,” Taemin retorts, tugging you even closer to him by the fallen strap of your dress. You’d almost laugh at his statement in any other situation; you’re a little reminded of his normal childish antics he likes to indulge in, but he looks perfectly serious here.

“And you think I don’t know that?” you reply, looking at him with eyes that are both searching for some kind of resolution and burning with irritation.

“Of course you know it. You’ve known it everyday since I slipped the ring on your finger, since we began our honeymoon, and you’ll continue to know it for as long as we both live.” Taemin speaks in a voice that isn’t quite demanding but still firm enough to make his point crystal clear; like he’s trying to make you understand while still handling you with kindness. “You’re everything to me, and I want to be sure you understand that I love you more than any other man could.”

Though you wish you had some clever response, you don’t quite know how to reply to that, because it’s true. He’s yet to fail in reminding you of all those things, but you also know he feels like he must prove himself right now. So you simply nod and bring your hand to his neck so you can kiss him again, feeling his soft lips under yours.

As the kiss deepens, you use your free hand to slip the other strap off so you can begin sliding your dress off, but Taemin parts from you and stops your movements instead.

“Get on the bed,” he says, “on all fours.”

You do so, wondering what move Taemin will make next. He pushes your dress up a bit so he can pull your underwear off, dragging the fabric off your body slowly. You don’t know where he throws your underwear to, but he climbs up on the bed behind you after he does.

You wait in anticipation to see what he’ll do, feeling his hands ghost over your hips and ass; then there’s the drag of your dress up over your hips and to your lower back, baring you to him.

“This is all mine,” he says quietly, and you feel his breaths on your skin. You tremble at being able to sense his presence behind you but being unsure where exactly he is, and then you gasp at feeling his tongue pushing at your entrance. Taemin holds you still against his probing tongue as you moan and whimper softly, trying to keep your voice to yourself for a reason you���re not entirely sure of. Maybe because you’re still a tiny bit upset and don’t yet want him to know how good he’s making you feel.

Taemin sets out to change that easily, though. He lets go of one of your hips to add his fingers in, sliding them against your soft inner flesh and feeling you get wetter from the action. His tongue slides further down to your clit and caresses the little nub, circling it and curling around it delicately. It makes the back of your neck warm, along with the rest of your body; the heat spreads through you as if you’re catching fire internally. You dig your knees more firmly into the mattress and grip the sheets tightly, trying to keep yourself steady as Taemin works on you.

You eventually have to lower yourself to the bed a little more so you can keep yourself stable. Taemin takes advantage of the slight change in position to push his fingers into you at a different angle, drawing more weakened sounds from you.

You’re disappointed when he pulls his mouth away, though he only does it to speak. “You taste so good and look so pretty like this…all spread open for me.” When returns to eating you out, he does it with greater determination this time, succeeding in pushing you headfirst into your first orgasm of the night.

“Oh God, Taemin…” you gasp as your climax floods through you, overtaking you like an ocean wave or a strong gust of wind. He doesn’t stop there and keeps pushing you up that peak of pleasure until you’re stumbling straight into another orgasm, his fingers manipulating your body and his mouth refusing to let go.

You finally sink to the mattress when he lets you go and gives you a reprieve. And even in your muddled state, you notice how he slips his hand under your stomach, helping you lower yourself to the bed, his palm warm and firm against you.

Taemin strips your dress the rest of the way off as you shake from the aftershocks of your orgasms, and he lifts your hips up some so he can do so, as you’re a bit too boneless to cooperate at the moment. He removes his suit jacket after that and unbuttons his shirt, and that is when you finally get enough strength back to turn over and watch from him your spot on the bed.

“Look at you,” you murmur, “Do you really think I’d ever look for anyone but you?”

Taemin smirks, slipping his shirt to the floor. He unbuttons his slacks, but he doesn’t take them off just yet; instead he pulls your ankles to bring you to the edge of the bed, making you yelp in the process.

“Hmm. Doesn’t it feel good to be recognized by someone who loves you?” he responds, grasping your arms and raising you forward so he can scoop you up. You secure your legs around his waist so you can hold on, and he doesn’t seem to mind that you’re getting his pants wet by doing so. You think he might take you against the wall, but he carries you over to a chair and table within the suite’s sitting room, located beside one of the large windows. He sets you down on the table, though you’re a bit reluctant to separate from him at first.

“Recognized…” you repeat, and then realize his words might’ve had a double meaning. You watch with questioning eyes as he pulls one of the curtains back, revealing the city’s nightscape to you. “Have you lost it?” Your suite is high up enough that no one from the ground level or the buildings below will easily be able to see you, but you still feel a thrill of fear and excitement rush up your spine.

Taemin turns back to you, and his smile is mischievous. “Not at all,” he says, and pushes both his pants and underwear off without a second thought. “If you don’t want to, we can easily put the curtain back in place.” He moves as if he’s going to do just that, but you reach out to stop him.

“Uh, wait, you don’t have to…”

Taemin comes back over to you and holds your face in his hands, and his wedding ring is slightly cool against your cheek. He whispers, “How does it feel to know we’re exposed like this? No one can see us, but we can see everything below...we belong only to each other.” His member pushes against your thigh, smearing precum against your skin. He’s hot and hard against you, his cock poking ever closer against your inner thigh and teasing your lower lips but not entering yet.

“It’s…” You glance at the faint reflection of your figures in the window as he hovers over you, situating his arms so they’re braced on either side of your body. You swallow harshly, trying to find the words to describe it. “It’s...weirdly erotic.”

Taemin takes your chin between his fingertips, guiding you to look at him. “So you like being watched? Did it excite you to have so many people looking at you today? Your ex?” Taemin’s tip pushes more firmly at your entrance and slips in, making you gasp and grip the edge of the table.

You shake your head as sweat beads up on your skin. “I only want you, Taemin.” You lean back on the table to look up at him with your most sincere eyes. He groans at the sight of you looking so pliant and submissive for him.

Taemin grips your hips as he pushes the rest of the way in, and he’s gentler than you’d expect given his earlier anger. Still, his thrusts are slow but deep as he pulls your hips into his, and you tremble and sigh as he glides against your walls so smoothly. It’s like he’s marking himself inside you so you’ll never be able to get rid of him.

Your eyes drift over to the window again, eyeing the many smaller buildings beneath you and observing the shadow-like reflections of your bodies merging together. Maybe he was right, to some degree. You do like the feeling of being seen-but-not-seen like this, completely wrapped up in each other even though your activities aren’t totally private.

Taemin slides his tongue into your mouth and spreads your legs wider as if he can burrow himself within the tight grip of your body forever. You’re willing to find out if he can. Your desire is spurred on by the idea of your husband filling every space inside you and causing you both to blend into one whole being.

His hands touch you all over, flitting across your skin like butterflies. His eyes, though, settle squarely on your face, holding your gaze inside his own. Although you’ve seen his sharp expressions when he performs on stage countless times, now his stare is characterized by a certain tenderness and a soft gleam, which threatens to bleed over into you and color you with its pure affection. 

Seeing this look, you fully understand that there’s no hiding how much he loves you, no matter how mad or jealous he gets...which you already know well, but it’s always nice to have the confirmation.

Taemin comes before you do this time, filling your womb with the warmth of his release, and as lascivious as it is, it also makes you feel strangely comforted. You know he belongs to you, and you him. He gives you a tender kiss as if in apology—for coming first or for being mad, you aren’t sure—and his hand drops between your bodies to rub against your clit. Soon, you are coming too, wetting his softening length and moaning at how your body sucks him and his cum in deeper.

You are amused by his sudden change in mood after he’s satisfied and the agitation has completely left his body. He’s suddenly shy about having the curtain open and pulls it back hastily, reaching his hand backwards clumsily because he doesn’t want to pull out of you just yet. 

“Was that spur of the moment?” You giggle, looking at his pinkened face. You hold his cheeks like he did to you earlier, feeling the round lines of them shift in your palms as he grins.

“I’m sorry for acting like that earlier.” Taemin shifts his face in your hands so he can kiss your thumb.

“Oh, really?” You give him a skeptical look, but he chuckles and shakes his head.

“I’m serious.” He pauses and then says, “I love you so much. I don’t like it when we get upset with each other…the only thing I want to argue about is what color we’ll paint our future nursery, or what baby names we like best. We shouldn’t argue over things that don’t matter in the end.”

“Ah, you’re so sentimental.” But you only say this to take the edge off, not wanting to shed tears right now. Still, you wrap your legs tighter around him, overwhelmed by his declaration and feeling like your heart could burst from the excitement and love you feel at the idea of doing those things with him. “Tae...if only you knew how lucky I feel.”

Taemin grabs you by the backs of your thighs and picks you up again, and you know you’re probably making a mess of the floor with his cum dripping out of you, but you can’t be bothered with it now. His smile is nearly blinding. “Hmm, well, let’s go to the shower and you can start from the beginning…”

[erin-bo-berin]

Helping Hand

MASTERLIST

Finally, this fic is seeing the light of day! I started this probably over a month ago and then it sat half finished for a couple of weeks when I went through my writing slump. I’m glad I didn’t force myself to finish it though because I don’t think I could’ve even PLANNED just how carried away this one got from me. Hence why I had to use this gif. Just had to give you guys some feels before you even started reading. Happy reading!

Thank you @multifandommandy​ for inspiring this fic! I believe the topic of a Spencer sex tape came up one day in one of our conversations and thus an idea sparked. Thank you for coming up with some of the visuals too. ;)

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 3,110

“I can’t believe you actually talked me into this.”

The sounds of the wet, open mouth kisses being left up your neck was the only audible thing at the moment.

“Just pretend it’s not there,” Spencer said, encouraging you.

The camera screen went dark, then the picture tilted wildly as the phone was positioned on the night table. In the view of the camera were you and Spencer laying in bed, unclothed, tangled limbs and all.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you grumbled, taking a quick peek at the camera.

The way the phone was angled, you could see more of Spencer than you could of you. Part of your face was shown which was good enough for you.

“In case you need something to get by when I’m gone during cases,” he smirked.

You ran your hand over his heavily stubbled jaw and pulled his face towards yours as he kissed you again.

Spencer was the lucky one. If he wanted to remember sexy time with you, he easily could. An eidetic memory would let a person remember a memory like viewing a photograph. In a way, he always had his own little sex tape in his mind.

Spencer was currently out of state on a case and unfortunately you were at home alone, pretty sexually frustrated. 

This was exactly why he’d asked to make this. It was for yours and his eyes only, but it certainly came in handy for times like this.

Your teeth sank into your lip as you watched his lips move against yours on the screen of your phone, his body starting to rock against yours. The gold chain he had worn that day would hit your chin with every thrust and for some reason it was the sexiest thing ever. His mouth hovered over yours as you moaned quietly.

God, you missed that feeling. 

Spencer had had two back to back cases lately. He’d barely been home for 24 hours when he had to turn around and leave again. He’d spent most of those 24 hours either asleep or at Quantico, working, so you didn’t quite get to jump his bones like you so desperately wanted to.

It had been two weeks, which normally wasn’t such a big deal, but you’d been extra worked up lately. But your boyfriend was sexy as hell, especially to you and you just couldn’t get enough of him.

You propped your phone against the pillow where you could still see it and watched a few more minutes. Yours and Spencer’s moans filled the room as your movements on the screen quickened, your hands grasping on to him like your life depended on it.

Your hands slowly slid upward over your stomach, through your pajama top, brushing your breasts. You whimpered a little, already sensitive. Your hands grasped them before you dropped them to the hem of the shirt, sitting up enough to pull it over your head.

You could already feel the slickness forming between your thighs, your clit throbbing from your arousal. 

You imagined your hands were Spencer’s, slowly sliding up towards your breasts, rubbing them gently, then with a bit more enthusiasm. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you pinched your nipples, rolling them between your fingers. 

Spencer always knew how to drive you crazy with something as simple as his touch. Your fingers tapped over the smooth skin of the swell of your breast. You imagined the way it felt when his tongue flicked across your nipples, taking each into his mouth one at a time to suck gently then blowing cool air on them, causing them to be even more erect.

“Fucking hell, Y/N,” you heard him groan in the video.

Your moans were escalating in the footage, gasps of his name coming every few moments. You lived for the moments just before you completely fell into oblivion, to the point that you desperately begged him to make you see stars. He always delivered too.

You spent your time caressing your body, just like he often did. Little kisses here, a soft suck there, he was definitely one to tease. 

Your fingers reached the waistband of your pajama pants, sliding inside them. You brushed them over yourself through the thin material of your satin underwear causing you to shiver. You were so aroused, you were tempted to make yourself orgasm right then.

You tried to be patient though, wanting to enjoy the time to yourself. It wasn’t the same as being with Spencer, but an orgasm was an orgasm either way.

“Mm, Spence,” you whispered, your mind running wild.

The things he could do to you if only he were here right now.

The rough scrape of his beard against your thighs as he’d kiss them always got you riled up. It was always a tremendous effort not to grab his head and push him against your lower half.

Sometime during your rampant thoughts you’d pushed your pajama pants down far enough so you could play with yourself. You pushed your underwear down too, finally allowing your fingertips to drag up your slit.

You inhaled sharply, picturing Spencer’s face as he watched you intently, fingers pumping in and out of you. When he fingered you, there was no messing around. He knew just what you liked and how you liked it and his long, slender fingers were an utmost blessing.

You heard your gasping giggle from the video. You didn’t even have to be watching to know he’d pulled your legs further up his sides so he could thrust deeper into you. Man, that had been a blissful sensation.

The pad of your finger flicked your clit and you moaned in time with the mixed moans coming from your phone. Your eyes fluttered closed as a finger dipped into your wet warmth.

“Spencer,” you groaned, your other hand massaging your breast.

The video had ended at some point, but you were too caught up in your pleasure to notice. Your finger pumped faster and your back arched a bit, your teeth coming down to bite your lip.

“Oh, Spencer, yes,” you moaned, his name falling off your lips as much as it usually did when you were with him.

“Need a hand?”

You froze in horror, caught in the act. You weren’t sure whether you were thrilled that he was actually home or humiliated that he’d walked in on you.

You had been so caught up in your play that you hadn’t even heard him come home.

He was already loosening his tie as he walked to the bed, a smirk on his lips.

“Good to see you missed me.”

He climbed on the bed, kneeling over you, his lips meeting yours. Your hand found the familiar spot of his neck and jaw, rubbing it like you’d been imagining doing.

“I missed you too, baby,” he whispered, his lips already moving downwards over your chest and stomach.

His hands squeezed your thighs lightly and you watched breathlessly as he pressed one lone kiss on your slit before dragging his tongue up it slowly.

“Oh shit,” you mumbled, the sight of him between your legs for real this time enough to unravel you.

His tongue slid a slow path up your slit, taking a moment to flick across your clit.

“Fuck,” you exhaled breathily.

His fingers gripped your thighs, continuing to enthusiastically drive you crazy, licking and sucking like he was enjoying his favorite meal. His mouth left your core, making you whimper at the loss of contact.

“Were you thinking about this?”

His index finger traced patterns over your thigh  and he peered up at you, his teeth pressing into his bottom lip.

You nodded, inhaling sharply when his touch dipped further closer to where you wanted it to be.

“What was that?” he asked, nonchalantly.

“Yes, I did. Spencer, please,” you whined.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get this on video,” he practically purred, fingers brushing your opening.

Your hips raised, looking for any contact possible, desperate for it.

“Nuh uh,” he tutted, pushing your hips down against the bed with both his hands.

“It’s been two weeks. I wanna enjoy my girlfriend.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice and you knew you weren’t going to get what you wanted anytime soon.

“If I knew you would pull this, I’d just gotten myself off,” you mumbled, frustrated.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

He sat back, looking down at you expectedly.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you groaned.

“I’m not. I want to watch you touch yourself. Get yourself off to me.”

His grin was mischievous as he wrapped a hand around your wrist, guiding your hand down to your core. 

You were horny and desperate for release and decided to give in. If he wasn't going to give you what you wanted at least you could give it to yourself.

You whimpered as your fingertips circled your clit, his gaze hard on yours. His fingers worked at the buttons on his shirt, quickly ridding of it.

“You wishing that was me touching you?”

Your eyes were locked with his as you moaned from your pleasure and you nodded.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he smirked, leaning down, his lips grazing over your collarbones, sucking gently.

“Yes, I desperately wish it was you touching me,” you groaned.

Using your free hand, you reached to the bulge in his pants, pressing against it. He grunted against your skin.

“Not so fun now is it?” you mumbled.

Spencer could get extremely turned on by his own games, impatient as well. That’s what was currently happening.

He pushed your hand out of the way, replacing it with his own.

“I do it better anyway.”

His low growl sent a burning, fire-like sensation to the pit of your stomach, his fingers aiding in that as well.

His fingers pumped in and out of you swiftly, his knuckles rubbing deliciously against your walls. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, fingers gripping the sheets underneath you.

He was an expert with his fingers, that was no secret, but your depravity of this for the last few weeks was causing him to drive you crazier than normal.

He rotated his fingers, curling them into a typical come hither motion causing your moans to increase in volume. 

Your hands covered your breasts, massaging them and you ran your teeth over your bottom lip. With a quick peek at Spencer, you saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

You could feel his arousal pressed against your thigh. Watching you was getting him hard beyond belief.

One of his large hands rested on your abdomen, his thumb lazily circling your clit.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, moaning, the fire in the pit of your stomach rapidly spreading through your veins.

Your back arched off the bed as your high soared through you, his fingers yet to slow.

You found yourself falling into an abyss of pleasure, his fingers having memorized all the right movements to send you spiraling. He watched you in a desire filled haze, knowing only he could make you writhe underneath him like this.

You’re panting when his face hovers over yours again. The pad of his thumb moves down your lips before he leans down to connect your lips to his.

Your mouth moves fluidly with his for a moment until your hands find his chest, pushing him away gently.

“I’m in charge of this show,” you mumbled, your eyes raking up from his lips to his eyes, a smirk present on your lips.

He moved off of you, eyeing you suspiciously as if he’s wary of what you have in store for him. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him. With a small movement of your head, you gesture to the top of the bed.

“Go ahead, get comfy.”

He does as he’s told, sitting up against the headboard as you climb up the bed, ready to join him. You have to hold back the moan that’s tempting to leave your lips at the sight of him laid out naked in front of you, ready and eager.

You climb in his lap, his hands immediately reaching out for your body, to pull you close to him.

Leaning his face upwards to meet yours, his lips capture yours sweetly. 

Your legs rested on each side of him, your weight on your knees as you kneel over him. The kiss deepens as you reach down and wrap your hand around him.

Spencer moaned in your mouth, his fingers pressing into your sides as you pumped your hand up and down his length, twisting your wrist just enough to be tantalizing.

“This isn’t fair,” he mumbled, his head falling back against the headboard.

You took the opportunity to ravage his neck with kisses. He was blessed with a long neck, a perfect canvas for numerous amounts of love bites.

“I know,” you smirked against his skin.

You sucked hard enough on one spot to leave a mark, running your tongue over it momentarily as your thumb ran over the tip of his cock.

“Babe, as much as I appreciate the attention, I’d rather not finish before I’m buried inside you,” he mumbled, moving your hand away from him.

His words went straight to your core, your desire already pulsating within you again. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how un-Spencer like he was in bed. It was always a shock and a huge turn on every time you heard it.

It may be a cliché, but your boyfriend was definitely a gentleman in the streets and a freak in the sheets.

It was good to know he’d missed you as much as you’d missed him; enough to the point where he was just as sexually frustrated and desperate as you were.

You obeyed his wishes, lowering yourself down onto him, a quiet moan leaving your throat at the feeling.

Your hips moved slowly, teasing him just a bit. Your hand snaked up the back of his neck to tangle in the mess of curls, pulling his mouth towards yours again.

“Y/N,” he groaned against your lips, breaking the kiss to mumble his complaint against your lips.

“It’s been two weeks for me too, you know,” he added.

His hands find your hips, trying to make you move faster and you oblige, your rhythm picking up to match his own upward thrusts. 

Your earlier ponytail was now a mess, more pieces of your hair coming undone from the updo. Spencer’s hand came up to your hair, pulling the elastic out of it. Your hair came tumbling down around your shoulders and he grinned, attaching his lips to your jaw.

Your hands rested on his chest as your hips circled, the room filled with nothing but your moans and the sounds of your bodies moving in sync.

“Fuck, fuck,” he groaned into your neck, lost in his own pleasure.

You took great pride in knowing you could make him react in such a way. Truth be told, you were sure he was the same way when it came to you. 

Still, it was extremely sexy to hear him moan knowing you were causing him to do so. 

“Yeah? Did you miss this?” you questioned, raising up off him just enough to move roughly down on him again.

“Fucking- holy fuck,” he growled.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you panted.

A moan cut through your prideful statement so it ended up sounding more like “yesh” than a clear yes.

You reach over him, grabbing the headboard for leverage as you picked up your pace and moved rougher on him.

“Y/N,” his little whimper came from below you.

It sent chills of pleasure down your spine. There was just something so attractive to hearing his own response to you.

His large hands grabbed your ass roughly, helping guide your movements even more. Your ragged groan filled the room as he hit a depth enough to practically make your eyes roll back in your head.

“Oh god, oh my god Spencer,” you moaned, his name coming from you like a mantra.

Your chest was flush with his, your bodies slick with a fine sheen of sweat. His hands traveled up your back as you worked harder for your release.

The closer you got, the more words seemed to fail you. Your brain seemed to be fizzing out as the knot in your stomach continued to tighten. 

Losing yourself to your pleasure, Spencer took full advantage of your thrown back head, the exposed skin on full display for him.

His hands on your back pulled you closer, his mouth wrecking havoc over your collarbones, a spot he knew would drive you crazy.

It didn’t take long for him to lose focus on his current task, his own release just within reach. 

“Spencer.”

The ragged moan that left your lips was enough to send him over the edge with a loud curse and a groan to follow. You felt his entire body tense, his face filled with pure ecstasy, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. 

You loved the erotic sight of him losing himself to the euphoria of an orgasm.

Even in his blissed out state, he made sure you got what you wanted too. You kept moving forward on him, grinding on him enough for the friction against your clit.

His fingers reached for the sensitive bud, intending to give you your own orgasm as well. He was leaning back against the headboard, eyes taking you in lazily, tongue briefly moving over his lips to moisten them.

When the coil finally burst, the amount of curses that fell from your lips were most likely considered unladylike, but you couldn’t care less.

Your vision went white behind your clenched eyes, your hand tugging at his hair.

You were breathless by the time your high had subsided and you opened your eyes to see a spent looking Spencer gazing at you lovingly.

You chuckled, pushing the few sticking curls off his forehead before disconnecting yourself and moving off his lap to sit next to him.

Spencer wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you close to him. He kissed your forehead, your nose and then finally your lips.

You lost yourself momentarily to the gentle kiss then pulled back, smiling up at him, glad to have him home again.

“Welcome home,” you grinned, glad in more ways than just the physical one that he was back.

“You know what I just thought of?” Spencer asked.

“What?”

“It’s a shame we didn’t film that.”

Tag List: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @fuckthealarm​ @whatspunispun​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @thomasfoockinshelby​ @tinyminy88​ @theitcaramelchick​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @theonlyone-meeeee​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @lemonypink​ @multifandommandy​ @teamkiall​

[zevlors-tail]

Retail Therapy

A/N: If you work retail like I do and get frustrated with your job on a weekly/daily basis, if you’re just fed up of all the crazy at work, this one’s for you! Covid has made it extra garbagey to work retail so here’s a little vent. Also, me writing soft Bakugou content? Yes.

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shouto Todoroki

Warnings: Mentions of Covid in Bakugou’s part. Cursing. Customer invading your personal space (also in Bakugou’s part), tiny mention of anxiety in Todoroki’s scenario.

Summary: You’ve had the most infuriating day at work. Lucky for you, he knows just how to fix it.

Izuku Midoriya

Oh my god this gif is so bright i love it

“Hi baby!” Izuku greets you as you haphazardly toss your shoes on the floor, not caring where they land. One ends up under the dining room table and the other ends up somewhere among the chairs, but you could care less.

You’re pissed. More pissed than you’ve ever been, but specifically with work. You constantly feel like you’re babysitting your coworkers, and they never listen to anything you have to say, even when you’re put in charge of your department- if only for the night. Every time you turn your back, they’re pulling some sort of dumb stunt; how are you supposed to get work done like that? You can hardly focus on your own task when you’re trying to clean up after everyone else. Picking up slack is something you’re used to by now (unfortunately), but it shouldn’t have to be. You shouldn’t have to do your work and everyone else’s work too. Not to mention, you were tired of being the middle man whenever there was drama. Why did everyone feel the need to tell you everything?

“Ughhhh!” You just groan in response, half a smile on your face while a wild look enters your eyes. Izuku knows that look. He can tell you’re frustrated after a long day of work, that you’re at your wits end with your job. “I swear, Izu, I came this close to rage quitting. I mean I wouldn’t, because I’ve got bills to pay and stuff, but, just- this close.”

“Oh yeah?” He gives you a trademark smile despite your woes and invites you to follow him to the dining table where he sits down with you, taking your hand in his. “Tell me all about it.”

And you do. He listens diligently, nodding and getting into the gossip playfully, asking about certain coworkers and making silly comments to get you to laugh. Things like, “But they would never!” and “Oh my god, no they didn’t!” along with your personal favorite, a very dramatic “No!” He even makes over the top facial expressions to go with his comedic comments, and he has you laughing with him in no time, the stress of the day melting away under his electric green gaze. Your vent turns into more of a fun story than it does a bad experience. Izuku is a good listener and he’ll always be there for you.

“It was just ridiculous! Man, I can only take so much in one day. Usually I don’t let them get to me, but I couldn’t take both of them coming up to me every five minutes and complaining about each other. You know, as much as they like to talk about each other not doing their jobs, maybe they would get more work done if they just stopped talking and got back to work in the first place!” As you tell him your story, he hums a response, nods, and gets up from the table. He pats your head as he passes by you on the way to the kitchen, and you follow him with your gaze, questioning him silently.

“I’m still listening, love. I can hear you from here, promise! Do go on.”

You continue, not paying much mind to what he’s doing since you’re so engrossed in your tale of idiocy and annoyance turned silly. And he is listening to you, still making eye contact as he moves about the kitchen, still putting his two cents every once in a while. But before you know it, a savory smell hits your nose, and you realize he’s not only started dinner but that he’s practically finished with it by the time you’re done talking. He wastes no time in making two plates and bringing them over, setting one in front of you and the other in front of his usual spot.

You’re extremely grateful to him for taking the initiative to make dinner while you de-stressed after the day’s events, and you make sure to tell him that as you both dig in to his cooking. He learned from the best (bless mama Midoriya). You’re reminded that no matter how bad your day has been, you get to come home to your favorite human being on the whole planet and love him, and be loved by him in return.

“Thanks for making dinner, Izuku. You’re truly the love of my life.” You say it in such a manner that makes your partner laugh, bits of food falling from his mouth as he struggles to swallow properly. “That’s attractive,” you tease, but you’re laughing too. It’s a happy moment for the both of you.

“Good to know you only love me for my cooking!” He jokes. He eyes your plate before not so subtly reaching over and stealing a piece of food. You gasp in mock surprise, but save your revenge for later. There are plenty of ways to get even with him. But for now...

Izuku: 1

Y/N: 0

Katsuki Bakugou

soft bb

“Shit, fuck! God, I hate today!” you exclaim as you slam the car door shut. Bakugou had been kind enough to pick you up from work, and you were glad that it was him driving and not you behind the wheel. You were shaking in your seat, your hands trembling in anger and teeth grinding in frustration as you glared out of the window silently for a moment.

“Bad day?” Bakugou asked gruffly, foot gently pressing against the gas peddle as you took off on the drive home.

“Yeah, you would not fucking believe people. You’d think everyone would listen to directions and stay home since it’s like, oh, I don’t know- the middle of a fucking pandemic?”

“Oh, believe me, I know. People are stupid. Don’t let them get to you, baby.” 

Maybe those words were odd coming from him considering he used to be so angry all the time himself, but Bakugou had really mellowed out since his days at UA, and he knew how to hold his tongue. Unbeknownst to him, however, this was more than a bad day for you. Bad days you could let go of, but this- this was something else. Not quite the worst time you’d ever had at work, but much more than a bad day. Today had been somewhere in between the two, and you weren’t sure what to call it. You’d been yelled at, berated, understaffed, and blamed for pretty much all the problems going on in your specific area even though you were trying your best. There was only so much you could do yourself, and even though you knew it was better to just let it go, you couldn’t. Especially not after what that wretched customer had done to you.

“I’m trying not to, but it’s really god damned hard not to fucking smack a bitch when they invade your personal space and tap on your shoulder. In a fucking pandemic. Actually, I don’t even think she was wearing a mask now that I think about it. How considerate of her.” The words are like venom spitting from your mouth, your fists clenching as you vent to your partner in confidence.

“They did what?” Normally he’s good about keeping his anger in check. Normally, he could handle you venting to him about anything. But someone else touching his Y/N? No way in hell. And during a period of time where touching people was especially rude and inconsiderate? Fucking no way in hell.

“Yeah! Tapped me right on the damn shoulder and didn’t even say excuse me. Words exist! Just tell me you need something and I’ll get it for you! I hate people who do that shit, it’s so unnecessary and rude! And it violates my personal space and creeps me out. I feel disgusting. If you touch me at work, then I’m not liable for anything that happens to you! You get slapped? Then that’s on you, bitch! Don’t fucking touch me!” You finish up your speech with a wild hand gesture, your head shaking in disbelief while you try not to think about too much.

It takes Bakugou everything he has not to just slam on the breaks right then and there and put the car in reverse to drive back to the store and find that piece of trash. If he could give them a piece of his mind, he would. But he can’t, so he settles for the next best thing: comforting you and making sure you’re okay. You did just have your personal space violated after all, so it’s understandable you’re pretty shaken up and angry about the whole thing. He would be too, honestly. 

The rest of the short drive home is mostly silent, save for the small talk you make with each other and the quiet background noise of the radio station that he let you pick. His general rule of thumb is that the driver picks the music, but he knows you’ve had a hard day, so he doesn’t argue when you change it to your preferred station and start drumming your fingers to the beat. He’d rather you wind down this way than keeping it all bottled up. When the two of you finally arrive to your shared home, you let your shoulders fall a bit and sigh as you trudge to the couch, not even bothering to take your shoes off before plopping down and face planting into the soft cushions. You listen as Bakugou wanders off to the bedroom and returns a moment later with a shirt in his hands.

“You said you felt disgusting earlier, so I brought you a new shirt to change into. Figured you probably didn’t want to stay in your work clothes.” His tone is softer, a little more careful since you’re home now and he knows you don’t like to fall apart in public. Home is where your true heart is, with him. If you’re feeling any sort of negative emotion, it’s more likely to come out here. And he wants to offer his help, but... “Do you want some help with it?”

You shift so that you’re sitting up on the couch and raise your arms slightly for him. “That would be nice, since I’m utterly exhausted and worn out. I’d really appreciate it,” you reply honestly.

He hesitates a bit, unsure of something before he asks you a question. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Your response is immediate. “Of course it is; I trust you. I never mind your touch.”

He smiles at that.

He helps you get changed into the ultra comfy shirt he brought you, and after that the two of you heat up some leftovers before cuddling up in bed together, the worst of the day washed away by Bakugou’s soft fingers running along your side as you lay your head on his chest.

“Thanks for always taking care of me. You do an amazing job at it.” You yawn into his shirt and snuggle your face against it, the soft cotton making you feel safe and secure.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Katsuki.”

Shouto Todoroki

I’m feeling extra soft for Todoroki recently

“Hi, Y/N. How was your day at-” 

Before Shouto can even finish his sentence, you’re flying into a vent about work, passing right by him on your way to the bathroom as you start to pull of your work uniform angrily.

“Oh my god, it was an absolute disaster!” You’re still breathing heavy from all the stress, eyes darting around wildly and face flushed from being mad and under pressure all night.

“What happened, love?” Todoroki coaxes gently. He comes to stand in the door frame of the bathroom and leans against it, his hands in his pockets and hip cocked out to the side. He has a sympathetic look on his face as you explain all your troubles of the day.

“Everything, Shouto. Everything happened. I mean, not everything, but it sure felt like it! Our delivery showed up late, and we didn’t have product all afternoon, so our customers were really angry and I kept getting yelled at! It’s not my fault it showed up late! If I had the product to put out I would! It’s complete and utter bullshit!” You make your way to the bedroom to pick out pajamas, not really caring about the pair you take out of the drawer or anything else for that matter. Your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: your day at work.

Sometimes you had a hard time winding down from work, especially on days like these, and Shouto knew that. You usually were able to separate work from home fairly well, but occasionally you just needed a little reminder that it didn’t have to follow you home to bed, and he knew how to help with that. He’d seen you like this before, had witnessed your break downs and freak outs over your job and the stress that came with it. Retail was not for everyone. Todoroki always told you that you had the patience of a saint, though everyone had their own limits, and you must have hit yours tonight.

“I don’t appreciate being called names and told that I’m practically useless. Customers can be real fucking snobs all the time. And I was trying so hard too, but even after the delivery showed up, it was busy as hell, and every time I put something up on the shelf they just kept taking it down! I think I sold through at least three boxes of something I normally have to throw away at the end of the week. Seriously! It was a mess, and we didn’t have enough staff because one of us was still suspended, and our normal person who works the backroom doesn’t work weekends, and even our supervisor called off, so it was just me and this other girl. It was awful. I can’t even- ugh! It’s not fair!”

You started to work yourself up, your anxiety skyrocketing as you thought of everything that went wrong earlier. Rationally you knew there wasn’t much you could do about the situation, but that didn’t mean you felt the same way. You should have done more, pushed yourself harder, but you also didn’t want to stay and work overtime on an empty stomach and not a lot of sleep the night before. Shouto must have seen the guilt in your eyes, because the next thing you knew you were being moved to the bed where he wrapped you in the softest blanket he could find, and then he was telling you he’d be right back as he slipped out of the room.

You sat there, a little confused for a while, before you heard a beeping noise from the kitchen and the door to the microwave open and close. Todoroki returned with a steaming mug in one hand and a book in the other, and he said nothing as he set the book and cup down on the nightstand before working around you, positioning a few pillows against the headboard of the bed. He fluffed them up a few times and grabbed the giant comforter, pulling it up over your lap and practically swaddling you. Finally he sat down behind you on the bed and pulled you into his lap, and you rested your head against his chest as he petted your hair softly. Slowly, you felt all the tension from earlier on in the day ebb away into drowsiness and exhaustion.

“Alright, blanket burrito,” he said, referring to your form all wrapped up in soft cotton, “I warmed up a cup of your favorite drink and brought us a book. Do you want me to read to you, or would you prefer to play a video game or movie?” He gazed down at you with a brow raised in question, a look of amusement on his face at the sight of your head just barely peeking out from the blankets.

“If you don’t mind, could you read to me? I like your voice...it’s soothing.” You melted into his touch, work already forgotten about and a wave of calm washing over you. 

“Of course, dear.” He gave you a precious smile and kiss on the top of your head.

Todoroki always knew how to fix your bad days, and he always did so without hesitation and without you having to ask. He handed you the warm mug first which you took gratefully, and then picked up the book and began reading to you.

How did you get this lucky?

[rev-plays-nikki]

Alright here we go 🙃

I am extremely disappointed with the announcement of Heaven’s Favor, or Blessed Land, as it’s been officially named on this Nikki server, as our anniversary hell event. As many others have said, this hell event is beautiful, and I love the suits (although it is disappointing that none have dark skin tones and devs of our Nikki game and devs of the the Chinese server have not thought to add them after the fact), but for an anniversary of the game which many including myself feel is supposed to be the biggest celebration of the year, I was expecting a much larger and more expensive event, such as True Road or Four Gods.

I would have been thrilled with either of those events in truth, though as someone who loves Four Gods and has been wanting it for the last 3 and a half years, I was desperately hoping you would finally bring it to us. I was prepared to spend at least $300 and most likely more on diamonds, lucky bags, and other things, simply to show my support for the devs finally giving players what we have been asking for. The grandeur and expense of this event is puny compared with the other two options we could have been given. People complain sometimes when we get expensive events, yes, but usually that is a result of too many expensive events in a row. That issue does not exist this time, and the player base as a whole does want an occasional very expensive event, especially for an occasion as exciting and celebratory as the game’s anniversary. There will of course always be a few who complain no matter what, but in this case, players including myself are frustrated, angry, and tired of how we are treated by our server’s devs. This event announcement is yet another in a long line of things that have made it clear the only thing or server cares about is money grabbing.

Though this announcement has made me finally decide to stop spending on Love Nikki, it has not been the only thing I’ve been unhappy about. It has simply been ‘the straw that broke the camel’s back’ as they say. Our server’s devs have also made it clear they don’t care if we get the story in a way that makes sense either. We get the actual story chapters in order, and for the most part in a timely manner, yes, but there is a lot of the story and lore tidbits in other things like events (hell event as well as regular ones) and Dreamweaver stories. We do not get these in chronological order, which makes it confusing for everyone. I have to assume that our devs think we don’t care about the story, which I do think is largely true based on how many people tap through the story stages, but many of us still DO care about the story, so ignoring it and giving no thought to the order in which we receive story based events and Dreamweavers (both long-term “free” ones and ones that cost diamonds) is, frankly, a huge middle finger to that part of the player base.

The recharge lineup for this event is also extremely disappointing to say the least. And this can’t possibly be a surprise after the reaction from players when frost rose was brought back a while ago. We do NOT expect, and certainly do not WANT, return recharges for a hell event. Especially not for the hell event that is supposed to be our big anniversary celebration. Many were prepared to spend big for our anniversary, and now we will be spending nothing. This is yet another in a long history is giving us subpar recharge lineups that are either too expensive for a comparatively mediocre suit or contain too many expensive returning recharges for the same amount of money (or in a couple of instances, more, if someone had purchased parts of the suit in its original run and had to purchase the same again to complete it.) Personally I have purchased every recharge that became available since shortly after I started playing and have well surpassed V15 levels of spending, but I will be skipping these.

It is also shocking, as I noticed recently, that if a player does not claim their daily diamonds one day, the next day the number of daily diamonds left decreases regardless. This means if a player pays for a monthly recharge card, but cannot log in for one or more than one day for that amount of time, they simply lose some of the diamonds they paid for. While it is a “monthly” card, it promises a certain number of diamonds. It would deliver that number no matter what. Other games have systems in place to account for this. For instance, Time Princess, another dress up game, simply allows the player to collect their diamonds for whatever number of days they have not logged in. It works great and everyone stays happy and gets what they paid for. Maybe a similar system is not in place in Love Nikki and that’s fine. There are other ways to make sure people get what they paid for. The diamonds someone didn’t claim could be mailed to them for example, or daily diamonds could be made a permanent event like the daily login reward, and players could claim diamonds once a day as they choose. Another annoyance to players is that the permanent diamond pavilions still do not have a “confirm” pop up asking if players are sure they want to spend up to 1500 diamonds. This seems like such an easy fix and something players have wanted and asked for for some time.

Recharge suits should also come back for crafting. It seems as things have been going for the last four years that none come back for a long time, players complain about it and threaten to boycott, and a short time after, one relatively inexpensive suit will return in an attempt to satisfy players. Players then think this means recharge suits will return regularly, and are appeased for some time until the whole process repeats itself. This is very frustrating and tiresome. Every paid suit should ideally return for crafting, but my guess is that none of the highly expensive ones ever will. That is very sad to me, as I truly believe that every suit should eventually be made available to every player. I believe the same for the ranked suits, all of which I have, as well. It would be great if they came back but I understand for them why they will not far more than for recharge suits. As a paying player, the way I see it when I buy any suit is that I am paying to get it early, not that I am paying to get it at all. And I am more than happy to pay for that, and thrilled to know that every player will have the chance to get it eventually. I’m sure there are other paying players who don’t share my views, so I understand why devs are hesitant to bring back super expensive suits, but I do think they should return. Not only because on other servers recharge suits return for crafting far more frequently than on ours, but also because as time goes on the suits end up looking older and older and as such their value to players should decrease. The price of suits should go down when they return, not stay the same, and eventually every suit should be obtainable for any player.

Now, back to this hell event again, and more specifically Four Gods, because I’m selfish and I want it. Four Gods has been around for years. Those of us who have known about it from its original run on the original Chinese server have been expecting it to come to us ever since. Lore-wise, as I understand it, it was sort of an introduction to the main four Cloud families and their heads who feature prominently in some event and Dreamweaver stories, though not so much the main story yet. The event was sort of a prequel to Four Wars, and on the Chinese server Four Gods came first. I remember when we got the announcement for Four Wars for our server, and my utter shock. No one had expected or really been asking much for this hell and there were so many other, older events that would have made more sense to us at the time. This I think was the first truly egregious breach of lore order, at least that I can recall and that was so important to the story. When we got Four Wars most players had no idea who these characters were, so how were they supposed to care about them or the story? I think a large part of why many players don’t care about the story can be attributed to the devs not caring about it for us. If we were given events and story parts in chronological order so that it made sense, it would be much easier to follow and perhaps players wouldn’t give up on it so easily.

Since then however, years have passed and we still have not received Four Gods, or even been given the courtesy of being told why we haven’t gotten it. It hasn’t even been mentioned to us by our devs. Now there are rumors floating around the Love Nikki community about it that I think do no one any favors. There is the (I suspect true) rumor that the devs have for a long time intended to never give us this event. There is a rumor that there is some issue with converting the files from an older event to our newer server. There is a rumor that the reason we have not gotten Four Gods is that the devs do not want to give players the opportunity to get the 3000 free diamonds that originally came with the event. There are these and many other rumors, all of which highlight I think the most important issue with regards to our server, and that is communication.

Our server’s devs have always been, quite frankly, horrible at communicating with their player base. We get event announcements and teasers and all and that’s fine, those things are fun and exciting, but when it comes to larger issues in the game, like as an example darker skin tones and makeups that match them, and what the team is doing about it, we receive little to nothing. With this specific issue, and it’s not the only one, it seems players complain and complain and threaten to boycott as I’ve mentioned earlier, and the team eventually gives us the promise that they are working on it. These promises usually come far later than they should. And communication should be more than just promises once the team has finally decided to promise it. Communication should include the in-between phases. For instance, using this example, respond to players more quickly and tell us what the team is considering. We don’t always need promises, especially when the team can’t deliver what is wanted in a timely manner. We want to know what is going on. If the team is discussing something before deciding, let us know! It’s ok if nothing has been decided yet. We want to know what is going on, and if we know, we can give feedback and help the team in its discussions.

The game Time Princess again does this well. They offer frequent surveys that players can access the link to in-game, and they have almost weekly live chats in their Discord server where they answer questions, give hints and teasers about future events, give out extra redeem codes, and have players play fun trivia games with them regarding the game’s stories. If Love Nikki’s devs did something similar, it would greatly increase fan engagement with the game and the story, and show that our devs do care about us and what we want. After being more transparent with the community, and letting us know what’s going on, better decisions can be made, and better plans can be formed, instead of the team telling us nothing and letting us wonder and spread usually baseless rumors until we are given a promise. Even the promises are not always adequate either. With the dark skin tone makeups again, we were promised the team was working on it. And yes, we have received more dark skin makeups since, and that’s great, but it seems like we haven’t received that many recently, and when they come they are usually recipes that cost diamonds, and we only get a few makeups matching a few skin tones rather than one makeup for each.

My concern is that something similar will happen this time as well, and the team may well decide to continue not bringing us Four Gods without telling us a word about it or about why they have made such a decision. Supposedly now the team is talking about possibly bringing us Four Gods, but how do I know that? From the devs being open about their process and transparent with players about their plans and thinking? No, of course not. I know this because someone “close to Nikki'' told this to a well known player whom the rest of us know and trust as largely the only player who really knows what’s going on with the devs. And I doubt she even really does, but based on how little communication we get from the devs, it seems that way to the rest of us. And I of course do not mean this in any way to bash or throw negativity at Iri, I love her and she’s a wonderful person and member of our community! But it is a problem with our devs when someone telling one player something is the only way we can get some shred of an answer to our questions and desires.

Now, because I don’t want to be all negative and I don’t want to complain without offering solutions, here is a bullet point form list of things that could be changed in the game to greatly improve it and the players’ relationship with our devs. :)

- First and most importantly: communicate with players! Tell us what is going on with the team. Ask for feedback more often about more things than which door styles we prefer. Involve us in discussions! Transparency is paramount for any brand these days.

- Give us better “free” things. The Chinese server famously gets more free things like login rewards after server maintenance, etc.

- Add another recharge tier. The Chinese server has one more recharge tier than us ifI recall correctly, as well as their highest tier being more diamonds for less money. if that’s not possible for whatever reason, let us know and let us know why! And then make things less expensive. If that’s also impossible, give us better rewards. If that’s also impossible, at least let us know.

- Let people claim their daily dias even if they miss a day. Suggestions for this are already above in what I wrote.

- Add an “are you sure you want to do this?” button to all diamond pavs. Maybe with a checkmark for “don’t ask me again on this account.”

- Make sure darker skin tones and makeups come back in a timely manner. Maybe make a schedule for it and share that with players. Explain why it takes so long. Work on bringing poses for darker skin tones as well. If that’s not possible, explain to us why in detail.

- Give us four gods. Please and thank you. :) I promise plenty of us want it. If you can’t or won’t, tell us that, and tell us why. If you can’t tell us why due to a non disclosure agreement or something similar, tell us you aren’t able to tell us why. Whatever communication you can give us is far better than none.

I love and care about this game deeply. It has been a very important part of my gaming life through the past four years. I would not have bothered writing any of this if that weren’t true. I truly and genuinely hope that things change and get better in the future, but until then I will not be quitting, but I also will not be spending nearly as much time or money on it as I have in the past, which makes me sad. I wish everyone the best and I hope our devs will listen and improve their communication at the very least. Thank you.

[kekoma]

— hanamaki as your boyfriend.

hands belong in pockets, not in your pants unless you’re him. hope you enjoy.

hanamaki hours has now entered the chambers.

such an amazing man. would do many things for him, but you didn’t come here to know that.

you came here to see how life is like dating hiro, yeah? so let’s get into.

how you two ended up dating isn’t munch of a mystery.

makki  had s personality that attracts all kind of people without even trying so it wasn’t a surprise when he had been able to lure you in as well.

as for when he realized that he actually liked you was when mattsun had pointed out how much he spoke you to him. 

and he also picked up the fact that he started flirting with you more than before too yet it no longer had that playful feel around it— hiro was serious about wooing you over.

pretty sure he was the one to make the move on you. he isn’t someone that is shy so when he asked you if you would go to the amusement park with him— that’s when he became a bolder.

“how are you enjoying our date so far?”

“it’s actually amazing~ can we... huh? wait... our date?”

“well yeah. this is our first official date. heh i suppose this is my chance to confess to you now.”

everything went smoothly. he was quite confident that you’ll say yes since makki made time to learn everything about you and paid close attention to any and every small behavior along side gestures you revealed.

not much to really go on about so i’ll hop right into the actual stuff.

i’ve mentioned it before with issei so it’s only right i’ll mention it here too since takahiro gives off the same energy.

you two are DEFINITELY the kind of couple who jokes around about breaking up over the strangest things and it’ll be at random times too.

“my guy... who cuts your hair?”

“huh? what are you talking about cutie?”

“i can’t help but realize that your hair reminds me of an upside skate ramp. who are you paying because baby...”

“so i see you woke up and choose violence today... you know, i didn’t come to get roasted. i came here to love you y/n and this is what i get?”

“hold up! stay right there. i’m gonna go find my tech deck and do a few tricks.”

“i- yeah let’s break up. my lawyers will call yours and i’m taking the kids too. can’t believe i’m bullied right now.”

vv dramatic but it doesn’t bother you since you go along with his ways.

being serious? is considered rare within the relationship.

however, when it does occur then hiro can be deapan.

which i will take the time to discuss arguments with him briefly.

again, it’s something rare since the relationship is mainly playful and uplifting each other.

yet when you two get pretty heated, it can go two (2) ways.

a) he’ll opt for the silent treatment since he could say some really foul things that could possibly hurt you to the max and he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. may even go as far to put a little more distance between you two so he can calm down and approach you in a better manner.

b) actually voices how he feels about towards the situation at hand and will probably sound extremely venomous when doing so. his main goal when speaking is getting his point across if you dismissed it and/or made it seem like he’s in the wrong.

up to you on how you would like to view his way of approaching arguments though.

but if you want to make it up to him then give makki space for a while before apologizing. also make sure the apology is honest because HE WILL know if you’re lying and if he catches you then it’s back to square one...

with that out the way, let’s return.

DEFINITELY is an supportive boyfriend that likes helping you grow as a person and reach your goals. since you do the same for him, it’s only fair plus he likes seeing the smile on your face once something is accomplished.

although he already has you— makki will still flirt with you. it’s just more cheesier.

“damn babe. is your father a priest because i’m feeling blessed when i’m with you.”

“shut up before i eat your food.”

“ooh~ that’s hot. guess your dad isn’t one. perhaps i’m dancing with the devil because you’re hot as hell.”

“... takahiro. sir please. stop.”

“okay okay but i think you should see this.” proceeds to shove his phone in your face, the front camera on to reveal you on the screen, “this is the prettiest person i’ve ever met.”

“you’re lucky you’re cute and that i love you.”

definitely does the hand in his pants thing in your house and in his (ofc).

even if they have pockets or you call him out for it, it’s just an automatic for him so you gotta accept it.

besides that, if you’re someone that LOVES to bake or occasionally bakes— best believe he’s the first to taste it all.

extra points to you if you make cream puffs.

is most definitely the kind of boyfriend who invest in matching items. clothing, jewelry, phone case, and etc. he finds the concept cute to be honest.

if you’re lucky enough, he’ll let you buy matching hair clips (something cute like Sanrio, fruits, animals or etc.) and lets you put them in his hair.

won’t compain if it seems extremely girly/cutesy. instead makki will take a bunch of pictures and post a few on his sns about how you two are matching.

also loves to make it known he has the most divine girlfriend in the world. dude is proud to be your boyfriend so ofc he’s gonna show off.

nicknames? yeah yeah nicknames real quick.

top ones for you are 🥁🥁 babe/baby, beautiful, cutie and lover girl occasionally makes it’s way around.

something a little extra: hiro will even call you his doll sometimes but its only brought up at random times. 

moving onto pda since it’ll also be a bit brief.

in love with PDA when it comes to you. 

although he tones it down when you two are in public so of course you get the basics, but something he’ll always do is wrap his arm around you or constantly interlock his fingers with both combined hands on his thigh.

as for private, it’s not as filtered. would say he’s a bit more touchy but i must advise... don’t keep your back turned to him for long because makki will use the opportunity to either smack or grab your ass while saying “i like your cut g.”

... can’t convince me he doesn’t do that. rip y/n’s ass.

last but not least— dates!

don’t think hanamaki is picky about what kind of dates you two go on.

but most dates are chaotic in a way. will deadass text you in the middle of the night or show up to your place be like “wanna film dance vids in a parking lot? or like walk around and eat good street food.” and you just gotta go with it.

however, when they aren’t that way or involving outside then some dates consist of staying indoors. probably baking together, watching a bunch of movies, doing his makeup and etc.

overall: 10/10

best relationship with constant fun <3 we love it here.

and that’s where i end this bc makki do be breaking my brain.

© all content belongs to kekoma 2020. do not repost, modify or translate.

[princessofravenclaw]

Time Changes

Paring: Draco Malfoy x Reader && Harry Potter x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Authors Note: This is my first EVER imagine/fanfic so pls be nice!! I’ve had this idea for a while but haven’t ever actually done anything about it. I’ve got more ideas to continue but we’ll start with this. If there’s spelling/grammar problems, don’t come for me!! Ya girl is not an English major. This is based off the “19 years later” but doesn’t follow that story line!

Italics is a flashback!!

September 1st. Walking into King’s Cross Station brought back a flood of fond memories. You remembered the first time you ever entered those doors. You had grown up hearing all of the beautiful things Hogwarts offered from both of your magical parents. The day you received your Hogwarts letter was the best day of your life. Now, here you were, hand in hand with your husband and three children, sending off your oldest and middle child to start their journey at the magical school. How lucky were you? You had married one of your childhood best friends, Harry Potter. Though you two never looked at each other as romantic partners until after Hogwarts, you loved being his wife. The two of you had been blessed with two boys and a girl. Today, the family of five would be downgrading to three, as James and Albus would be boarding the Hogwarts Express. You would still have your sweet Lily with the two of you at home. You stood back with your daughter as Harry helped calm Albus’s nerves. James had already said his goodbyes and boarded the train with his friends. Hermione and Ron would be sending off their daughter, Rose, this year. They engulfed her in hugs, saying their goodbyes. You watched fondly as you ran your fingers through Lily’s strawberry hair. “Why can’t I go with them, mummy? It’s not fair!” Lily exclaimed, breaking your gaze from your husband and son. You chuckled and leaned down to kiss her head. “You will have your chance, my love. You’ll have your letter soon.” She looked up at you, bearing her father’s bright eyes, and smiled. “I hope to be in the same house as you, mummy.” You smiled and nodded, hoping the same. You loved being a (Y/H). Albus and Rose boarded the train together, waving more goodbyes through the train window. Harry had joined you, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Can you believe it, love? We only have one more to send-off.” He said before kissing your temple. You smiled and leaned into his kiss. “I just hope they don’t have to go through everything we did as kids.” Ron pipped up. “They will do great, Ron. I know it.” Hermione said, wiping a tear as she continued to wave as the train pulled away from the station.

Once the train was out of sight, you all began heading back to the exit when a pair of cold, grey eyes met yours. A pair that you had not seen or wanted to see in many years. The pair that belonged to Draco Malfoy. What was he doing here?! Your husband felt you tense up, stopping to look down at you. He followed your eyes and saw exactly what was causing the problem. He knew of your history with the Slytherin blonde boy. You loathed him from the minute you saw him your first year. He constantly bullied Harry and your friends, jealous of Harry’s fame. Things began to change, however, during your fourth year. Draco had been dared to ask you to the Yule Ball by his fellow housemates. He accepted, wanting to make the night terrible for you. You accepted his terrible invitation, as you couldn’t find a date and you had a slight feeling there was something more to the invite.

“Are you mental (Y/N)?! You’re seriously going to take Draco’s invite to the ball?!” Hermione shouted. You silenced her immediately, not wanting Harry or Ron to find out, at least not yet. “Well, I don’t exactly have a date, Hermione. I wasn’t lucky enough to get someone like Viktor.” You didn’t mean it to sound hurtful, part of it was jealousy, as every girl wished the Tri-Wizard Champion had asked them. You looked at your long, black ballgown in the mirror, running your hands down the front out of nerves. You picked black for two reasons, one, you always loved the color on you, and two, you felt the color matched Draco’s cold heart. “Ready, then?” Hermione asked, breaking you from your trance. Nodding, you spun around and headed for the Great Hall. As the two of you approached the Great Hall, you could hear Draco and his idiotic friends laughing. You rolled your eyes, asking yourself why you decided to do this. Harry and Ron stood at the bottom of the stairs, Ron catching a glimpse of Hermione first, leaving him speechless. Harry followed his gaze and also became silent. The two of you smiled and began the descent down the stairwell. You looked over to the opposite side as your two best friends to where Draco stood. ‘He does clean up nice', you thought. Making eye contact, he stops mid-sentence with Crabbe and Goyle. You notice his Adam's apple bob up and down, indicating a hard swallow. Hesitantly, you separated from Hermione and approached the Slytherin boys. “What in the bloody hell is she doing?” you heard Ron ask the two other friends. Hermione just patted his shoulder before locking arms with Viktor, also surprising Harry and Ron. Draco let his eyes run up and down your figure, taking you in. “(Y/N) ... you look…wow…” Draco said, stumbling over his words. Did Draco Malfoy just compliment you? Chuckling, you looked down at you dress. “Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself.” He stepped closer, putting an arm out for you to grab, “Shall we?” As you picked up you dress with one hand, you looped the other through Draco’s as he led you into the beautifully lit Great Hall. Crabbe and Goyle stood amazed, glancing between each other and the two of you confused. Yes, they were part of the dare, but they didn’t think it would play out like this.

While Draco isn’t a dancer, you two did manage to slow dance to a few songs. Draco was a true gentleman when placing his hand on your side and holding your hand with the other. This surprised you, knowing the reputation his family has for being so cold. “I really did mean what I said, (Y/N). You look amazing.” He whispered in your ear. Feeling the coolness of his minty breath sent chills down your spine. You could not understand why; did you feel something for Draco deep down? “Thank you, Draco. So, was this truly a dare, or did you want to go with me?” He flashed a smile. “Even if it was a dare, I think it’s worked out pretty well, don’t you?” he teased.

After that day, you began to share lingering stares during classes and in passing in the halls. Soon, those lingering glances became notes passed during class, which lead to sneaking out of the common rooms late at night. The two of you had kept what you had under wraps, knowing how much would be coming your way if the school found out. All anyone knew, except Hermione, was that you two attended the Ball together, and even that was a ‘dare’. Your relationship began to fall apart during the sixth year, however. His family had pressured him to become a Death Eater, now baring the dark mark on his inner forearm. You despised it. Watching it move on his arm made you physically ill. You knew he had been put up for a ‘special mission’ from Voldemort, but he could never tell you what it was. You found out, though, after seeing Professor Dumbledore fall from the Astronomy Tower that night. Draco had ran off with his parents and other Death Eaters, not returning to finish the school term. Once the term had been completed, you joined together with your three best friends to find the remaining Horcruxes. Your parents weren’t thrilled you would not be returning for your final and seventh year, but there was a war that needed to be fought.

Draco stood near the exit of King’s Cross, wearing one of his famous all-black suits. His hair is still as striking blonde as you remembered. Facial features the same, just a little more aged. A woman stood slightly behind them. You recognized her as Astoria Greengrass, a fellow Slytherin. You remembered her from school, and she always stayed a little too close to Draco for your liking. Did they have a child the same age as one of your boys? “C’mon, love, let’s get Lily home,” Harry said, placing his hand in the small of your back and kissing your temple again. You loved it when he did that. Harry was always so caring and affectionate towards you, even after all these years. Draco watched the interaction, making you wonder if he even knew you ended up with Harry. Surely, he knew.

Ginny had tried to run towards Harry during that final battle in the courtyard as he dangled from Hagrid’s arms. Voldemort cast a spell her way, knocking her back and causing her head to hit a rock. She was carried inside the castle so Madam Pomfrey could help. She tried everything, but Ginny was gone. It took a long time for Harry to mourn and return to normal. He truly loved her. You suffered as well, not in the same extreme as Harry, but still in a poor mental state. You ignored Draco’s letters. Draco and his mother had managed to avoid Azkaban; however, his father wasn’t so lucky and was sentenced again. Eventually, Draco’s owls became more and more spaced out until they stopped coming altogether. Your father offered to burn his letters, as you refused even to open them. You decided not to, instead shoving them in a bin hidden from sight. Hermione and Ron became tired of seeing their two other best friends so depressed and decided to invite yourself and Harry to dinner one night. Once all together, it was as if nothing had changed and no time had elapsed. Ron and Hermione were very happy and very much in love, leaving yourself and Harry out. The two of you vowed to keep in touch better, as you both worked at the Ministry together, different departments, but still. You two shared your hardships and struggles, finding comfort in one another. One thing leads to another, and now you sit holding his hand with three beautiful children.

The following morning was bizarre. Not hearing the bickering of the boys was strange. The house felt empty and quiet, which is something that you had not had in ages. You would now have to practice only making breakfast for three instead of five. After Lily was dropped off at your parents for the day, the two of you headed to the Ministry to start your workday. Harry could tell you were still thrown off by the events from the previous day. “I’m fine, really.” You said, squeezing his hand. “I have a hard time believing you, (Y/N). He can’t hurt you now. It’s been ages.” He said, trying to reassure you. “I know, just seeing him brought back so much.” “It’ll be alright, love. All of that is in the past. You’ve got me now, know it?” Harry leaned in and pecked your lips. “Come get me if you need me today, okay?” Harry said, walking in a different direction than you were. Harry worked as an Auror, and you worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures along with Hermione.

Walking into your office, you said hello to your receptionist. “Mrs. Potter, your first appointment is already in your office.” She stated bubbly. You looked at her puzzled. “I thought my first meeting was much later?” you questioned. She looked as confused as you. Taking a deep sign, you walked into your office and was in disbelief at what stood by the window. Draco. How did he find me? He turned to face me as soon as he heard my bag hit the floor. “Draco, you need to leave.” You said as firmly as you could. All you wanted to do was scream for Harry, but his department was on the complete opposite side of the Ministry from you. “Don’t.” Draco spat. “I needed to speak with you.” He continued. “And I need you to leave before I call someone.” He laughed. “Oh, is your Potter going to come to save you? He’s already taken you away from me once, and I won’t let him do it again.” He said before reaching into his suit pocket. You stood there, not knowing what he was planning to do. Draco pulls out what looks to be like a Time-Turner. Hermione used one during our third year to ensure she was able to take all of her classes. It was said all of those devices in existence were destroyed. How did Draco get his slimy hands on one? “How-how did you...” you trailed off, your mind racing as to what his plan was. “A gift from my father. The only one left. You know how this works, right (Y/N)?” he said, stepping closer to you. “Draco…” you started, but before you could push him away, the extended chain was draped around your neck along with Draco’s. His fingers moved the locket quickly before you could think or do anything.

--------

[wonderlustlucas]

jack pot ; part 1 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader, seo changbin x female reader for like 2 minutes ⇢ word count 7.5k ⇢ genre fluff, angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way), slight smut ⇢ warnings drug use!!! & lots of it (marijuana), grinding, implied smut ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n yo!!! disclaimer: this initially was going to just be a long one shot but i decided to split it up into 3 parts, so just to let u all know part 1 & 2 does not have a ton of hyunjin interaction, they’re more character/plot building. part 3 is when things will get spicy ♥︎ i hope u enjoy! if u rb make sure to let me know what u thought in the tags mwah also i finally switched from ___ to yn are u guys proud of me :)

prelude.

Sometimes you really, truly, honestly think you could go right ahead and kill Han Jisung.

You say it all the time. Sometimes it’s a simple, “I will literally kill you,” or when you are feeling extra spicy, “Sleep with one eye open tonight.” He, of course, laughs it off like you aren’t vibrating with the urge to kick his kneecaps in. You seriously have lost count of all the times he has brought you to the brink of insanity.

And honestly, you have watched enough murder documentaries on Netflix that you probably could do it, but, you know, spending the rest of your life in prison does not sound that appealing. Plus, there’s the ever-troubling detail that Han Jisung is the closest thing you have to a best friend. So, it sort of goes against your basic human morals to backstab—literally—the most important human in your life.

But he really makes you crazy. Why you agreed to share an apartment with him in the first place is a mystery, but the fact that you leased it again for junior year is what really makes you lose sleep at night. Because, while he may be your best friend, Jisung is the epitome of a little shit. If such a compound word was in the dictionary, it simply would say ‘Han Jisung.’ Somehow, though, it makes you love him even more. Maybe it’s true that ‘opposites attract,’ or, perhaps, maybe it’s because no matter how much embarrassment and general self-loathing he may have caused you in the past, it has benefitted you in the end.

For example, his constant teasing about your lack of friends eventually led to you befriending a group of girls you always admired from afar. His snarky comments concerning your nonexistent social life finally got to you and now you can proudly wear the title of one of the best beer pong players in your class. His presence in general has taught you to stand up for yourself and what you believe in, whether it’s against him, your parents, a toxic friend, hell, even a professor. Proving people wrong, especially Jisung, is your favorite pastime.

Sometimes, though, it’s not that easy.

There’s one area in your life where you have accepted defeat. One area in your life where Jisung has his most fun. One area, or, perhaps one person, where you simply cannot step beyond your comfort zone.

Hwang Hyunjin is your Achilles tendon and Jisung is the arrow. There are times, along with all the times you’ve considered strangling Jisung in his sleep, where you have sat and actually prayed to the gods to send someone else. Someone not nearly as perfect as Hyunjin and someone not nearly as unattainable. Alas, these prayers, hook-ups, Tinder dates, anything to get him off your mind has proved futile; because here you are three years later, stuck with this stupid, absolutely infuriating crush on the only boy who has ever owned your heart because you outright gave it to him.

one.

You are beginning to think the two bubbly junior girls who led the campus tour you attended last year lied about the dining hall.

Correction: they one hundred percent lied.

Because even though the newly renovated food court looks nice—unscratched linoleum floors, shiny marble countertops and all sorts of seating to choose from—there must be something fishy going on with the cooks. Literally. Just last week, an upperclassman had a breakdown when she forked into her tuna (why anyone would want college seafood is another story) to find a worm right there in the middle of it. You have found little shards of glass in the yogurt and bugs even at You-Cook, but that’s all a part of the college experience, right?

“Are you sure there’s no spiders or anything? Did you check?” Beside you, Maddie watches with furrowed brows as you spoon a hefty serving of scrambled eggs onto your plate. Chuckling, you move down to grab a few sausages and a chocolate chip muffin before they are gone for the rest of the day; Lord knows, you are only a month in and carbohydrates have quickly become your emotional support, just like everyone else. “Yes, I checked,” you assure her, hiding a laugh with your hand as she leans over to further scrutinize the eggs, “I didn’t see any arachnids.”

“Good,” she hums, satisfied with your answer, “can you grab a banana muffin for me? They’re usually at the bottom.”

Nodding, you turn back to the blessed muffin basket, pushing away blueberry, corn, double chocolate, all because Maddie has to be different and go for the macadamia nut banana.

“Are those the dinosaur socks they were selling on move-in day?” In front of you, someone asks, and your first instinct is to look down at your feet just to confirm. 8:30 calculus simply turns your brain to mush and remembering how you dressed for the day is near impossible. “Yes!” Laughing, you lift your leg to get a closer look at the cute green t-rexes on skates. “I was sold once I heard they were a dollar.”

Tearing your gaze away from said socks, you look up and suddenly feel as if you have bumped into an angel. Maybe there were spiders in the eggs, deadly poisonous spiders that crawled up the spoon while you weren’t paying attention and bit your hand and now you are dead and this is the angel leading you to the heavens. That, or this simply is the most beautiful human you have ever seen up close and your brain does not know how to process it. Well, maybe that’s a little extreme, but you definitely have never been so starstruck in your life.

The boy in front of you says something but you don’t hear it, senses and thoughts momentarily Off™ as you gawk at him. Aside from the deep undereye bags you all have claimed the past few weeks, this stranger is as close to perfect as you can get. Sure, Seungmin and his roommates are pretty cute—but what the fuck?

Something tells you that you have been silently staring at him, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open for far too long when his brows raise in a mix of confusion and expectation. Shit. What did he say? Synapses suddenly shooting like fireworks in your brain, you desperately try to remember his reply but instead, all you had focused on was the plumpness of his lips as he spoke and not the words themselves.

Clearing your throat, you blink once, twice, hoping you were hallucinating the whole time and the boy in front of you is not Hercules incarnate.

Lucky for you or him, you can’t tell, but he is still as attractive as he was two seconds ago. “Sorry, what?” You blurt, loud, too loud, flinching at the sound of your own voice. Instead of recognizing that you are totally off your rocker, he smiles, a soft, toothy smile that has your muscles turning to goo.

“I said I bought them, too,” cutest-boy-in-the-universe repeats, looking down and you follow his gaze, “my roommates were making fun of me, so I’m glad I finally found someone who bought them.” Alas, as he tugs at the fabric of his jeans to slightly lift the cuff you see that he, too, wears the same socks. You think you’re in love.

“Well, your roommates clearly have no taste,” you deadpan, shakily meeting his eyes once he looks back up. He laughs softly, eyes scrunching at the action and you positively swoon until silence settles over you and he takes the opportunity to regard you, gaze sweeping down your frame and up again. You hold your breath because, 1) holy shit, you would get on your knees for him right now and 2) you suddenly wish you were wearing more than the ‘just-woke-up-to-get-pegged-by-calc’ fit.

“I’m Hyunjin,” he finally says and you release all the air trapped in your lungs. “YN,” you return, grasping his outreached hand and thanking the heavens it is as sweaty as yours. “Well, it was nice to meet you, YN,” Hyunjin proceeds, releasing your hand and offering a gentle smile.

“You too, Mr. Sock Man,” you grin, rocking on your heels and realizing with a pang of disappointment that your breakfast has probably gone cold. Well, that’s okay, because right now you are totally content standing here in the middle of the dining hall, silently staring at this Hyunjin with a stupid smile plastered on your face. And the best part? He apparently is just fine doing that, too.

“YN!” Somewhere behind you, Maddie calls your name and it thrusts you head-first back into reality. “Did you find a banana muffin? I can’t find— oh. Who’s this?” Appearing beside you, visibly shocked having found you in a staring contest with a very tall, very cute boy. “Oh, uh,” you huff out a laugh, scrambling to get yourself together, “Hyunjin, this is Maddie, my roommate. Maddie, this is Hyunjin. We have the same socks.”

Brows shooting up at the puzzling introduction, Maddie bites back a laugh and looks back and forth between you and Hyunjin. “Well, you don’t hear that every day,” smiling to hide her confusion, she offers him a small wave with her hand full of muffin packs, “nice to meet you.”

Hyunjin smiles in return, gaze quickly returning to you. “I’ll be off, then. Gotta get the waffles while they’re still warm. I’ll see you around.”

And before you know it, he’s off toward the other end of the breakfast counter.

“Um, what the fuck?” Maddie whispers excitedly as you make your way toward your usual table, elbow repeatedly jabbing into your side. “I have no idea what just happened. I think I’m dreaming,” you sigh blissfully, relieved to find that Jisung and Seungmin were able to claim your favorite booth. “No, definitely not dreaming. He’s totally into you. You have to hang out.”

“What?” You sputter, nearly tripping over your own two feet. Then, lowering your voice as you near the two boys, “I – no, he isn’t. How can you tell? That was like, the cutest guy I’ve ever talked to, and you think he’s into me?”

“Who’s the cutest guy ever?” Jisung pipes up, eyes lighting up and you curse him and his fucking bat hearing.

“No one,” you grumble, smiling softly at Seungmin when he gets up so you don’t have to sit on the end, leaving Maddie to sit next to the other one. “Is it me?” Jisung grins with a flutter of his eyelashes. He’s convinced the only reason you dislike him is because you’ve actually fallen in love with him, but that’s far from the truth. You don’t even dislike him—he’s just one of the first guys you’ve met who meets your sarcasm with as much ferocity, and that is a hard pill to swallow.

“In your dreams, Han,” you sneer, gracing him with a dramatic eye roll before tearing open the bag of your muffin. Comfortable conversation quickly falls into place as you eat, complaints about your classes, Seungmin trying to convince you to join them at the first party they will be attending while Jisung mocks you for wanting to stay home, Maddie asking where Felix is and Seungmin explaining that he got so high last night he ended up staying up past four playing Overwatch and is currently sleeping past all his classes.

Then, in the midst of guzzling your apple juice, Jisung leans out of his seat to call down the aisle. “Hwang! Come pull a chair over!”

Curiosity peaked, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and crane your neck to see over Seungmin’s fat head for who this ‘Hwang’ could be until, like the universe is really trying to kill you, the Hyunjin you met not even ten minutes ago has reached your table. “Hey,” he grins brightly, dabbing up the two boys before he glances to you, mouth promptly falling open. Certain you mirror the same expression, you struggle to find your words as Jisung and Seungmin look between you in shared confusion. “First we share socks, now it’s these dumpheads?”

Ignoring the way they scowl, Hyunjin giggles shamelessly and grabs a chair from an adjacent table to sit at the head of your booth. “It would seem that way.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. You guys know each other?” Jisung scoffs in disbelief, pointedly looking at you as if you’ve gone and disproved everything he pegged of you. “We just met,” Hyunjin replies with a shy smile, sparing you a quick glance before cutting into his waffle. Jisung looks to you and you offer an affirmative nod.

“And how are you guys friends?” Maddie asks, sensing your panic. “He’s Changbin and Minho’s roommate,” Seungmin answers.

You choke on a mouthful of juice.

“Christ, you good?” Seungmin snickers, offering a few slaps to your back. With a muffled yes, you look to Hyunjin with pleading eyes. “Please don’t tell them I said they have no taste.”

He laughs, arching a brow at you. “No way. They’ll get a kick out of that.”

“Oh, Christ,” faking a cry, you bury your face into your palms, “so much for making friends.”

“It’s okay, YN,” Jisung soothes with faux sympathy, “no one wants to be your friend anyway.”

Scoffing, the table quickly falls silent when you look up with rage in your eyes. “I bet when someone asks your parents about you, they change the subject,” you spit, shooting daggers at him before stabbing your fork into an innocent chunk of egg. To your utmost surprise but total delight, the other three burst into a fit of laughter, leaving you smirking smugly and Jisung sulking.

“Anyway,” Maddie promptly changes the subject back to her chemistry professor who has started every class playing Britney Spears. Tucked away in your corner finishing the last of your sausage and stifling the urge to get up for more, it isn’t until Hyunjin begins to speak do you realize that you have been quietly watching him the entire time. You would blame the soft morning sunshine shining through the windows and illuminating the right side of his face for making him look so ethereal, but you know that isn’t the case; from short, messy black hair, silver hoop earrings, thick, defined brows, the soft curves of his nose and the pouty fullness of his lips, you are totally, completely mesmerized.

And then, the sole of a sneaker is slammed right into your shin. “OW!” You yelp, loud, and for a moment you forget the pain in favor of the embarrassment that comes with the number of heads that turn to look at you. “Sorry. Bit my tongue,” you lie, earning an unconvinced look from Maddie. “Go on,” you nod toward Hyunjin to continue whatever he was saying before directing a furious glare to Jisung, who fails to hide his triumphant smirk as he enthusiastically types on his phone.

Just as you have bent down to rub at your throbbing leg, your phone vibrates twice against the table.

han jisung [now] stop staring, ur lucky hwang is as dense as a rock or he would have left a long time ago bc of you

han jisung [now] so THAT’S the ‘cutest guy ever’ huh? so ur straight after all

Squeezing your hands into fists, you prepare to fire back a reply that will have him crying. But he has different plans.

“Oh, Hyunjin, did YN tell you she’s a dancer, too?” He exaggerates your previous mention of dancing and has the audacity to wink at you. Thanks, Mr. Match Maker.

“Really?” Hyunjin gasps excitedly, eyes lighting up and totally missing the flabbergasted what? that sputters from your lips.

“I – well, no,” you hiss, scowling at Jisung, “I used to do ballet when I was younger but that’s it. Why, though? Do you dance?”

“He’s here on a scholarship,” Seungmin explains, “and minors in creative writing.”

“Oh,” you squeak, glancing to Hyunjin who is all but smiling like a cherub, completely oblivious, “that’s amazing. You must have a crazy schedule.” Chewing the last of his waffle, he hums in agreement. “Yeah, it gets really stressful at times. But it’s worth it,” Hyunjin chuckles. Then fucking winks.

Unable to hold his gaze, you whip your head back around in a panic and reach for the mere sip left of your juice. “Speaking of crazy schedules,” he hums, slapping both Jisung and Seungmin on the shoulders, “I must head out. This was fun. I may start crashing the party more now.” Rising from his seat, Hyunjin swings his bag over a shoulder and grins brightly. Realizing it would be rude to not say goodbye, you force yourself to look back to him and offer a feeble wave.

“And YN, don’t bite your tongue when you eat, yeah?”

You’re going to pass out.

two.

Felix likes to think of you as his corrupted child when it comes to smoking weed.

A few weeks before you would all be returning home for winter break, he came knocking on your door with a proposition. “No one wants to smoke with me. Do you want to?”

This, for sure, was not what you were expecting on a cold Tuesday night in December. Despite the general curiosity and always wanting to ‘try it’ simply to feel like a teenager breaking the rules, you told him you never smoked before. “I know,” he said with a smile, “that’s why I’m asking.”

So, you agreed. Reaching for your hand, Felix snuck you out the window and led you halfway across campus to the junior parking lot, giving you ample opportunities to back out when he felt how badly you were shaking. “Whose car is this?” You laughed in disbelief when he unlocked a beaten-up Nissan near the outskirts of the lot.

“Kim Woojin. The junior?” He replied once you settled in the passenger seat next to him. “Oh.” You blinked, confused. “He lets you smoke in his car?”

“He gets me weed, too,” Felix giggled, reaching into the pockets of his sweatshirt and coming out with two tightly wrapped blunts, each about two inches long, “I’ll turn the heat on a little so we don’t freeze but we have to keep the windows open. I’m not going to have you hotbox for your first time.” You had no idea what that meant, but you agreed nonetheless.

With a brief lesson on what to do that truly made no sense until you tried it for yourself, Felix lit the blunt, took a few small hits to get it started, and then passed it to you. Holding it gingerly between your thumb and index finger, you brought the unlit end to your lips and sucked as he instructed ‘like a straw,’ breathing it into your lungs and ignoring the faint taste of smoke. Unsure of when to stop, it wasn’t until your throat felt as if it was on fire did you realize just how much you had inhaled.

“Shit,” you wheezed, coughing and choking and watching with wide eyes at the amount of cloudy white smoke that left your mouth and nostrils. Passing it back to Felix, you scrambled for the cold water bottle he brought along, downing half of it in one go to soothe the burn. “Good?” He asked, blowing out the window and turning back to you with eyes full of concern.

“Yeah,” you huffed, “give me a few, though.”

Humming in agreement, Felix connected his phone to the car’s Bluetooth and began playing what he calls his ‘getting high playlist,’ and before long, you fell in love with the feeling.

When break was over, you were dying to try it again. Felix was more than happy to be of service.

For all of March, it turned into a daily thing.

Now, you try to smoke only once a week for the sake of not dying, or something.

australian felix kjellberg❤️ [now] come hang at 201?

When the text notification pops up in the corner of your laptop screen amid your YouTube binge, your bones jitter with a mix of dread and excitement.

Dread, because that’s Hyunjin’s room. Excitement, because that’s Hyunjin’s room.

Maddie must hear your sigh. “What’s wrong?” She asks from her cozied position in bed, hand deep in a bag of popcorn.

“It’s Felix,” you start, “but he said to go to Hyunjin’s room.”

She blinks, unfazed. “And? I don’t see the problem here.”

“Well, I don’t know,” you count on your fingers, “first, I don’t know how to act around Hyunjin sober. Second, I don’t know how to act around Hyunjin high. Third, I am very touchy when high. Fourth, Hyunjin is always touchy.”

Maddie scoffs. “That’s a pretty lame argument, YN,” she laughs, “isn’t that what you want to happen?”

“Well,” she’s got a point, “yes, but it still makes me nervous. He makes me nervous.” Closing your laptop, you shimmy out of bed and debate changing out of your cotton shorts and tee shirt. Nah. You’ll probably end up going back to Felix’s and sleeping there. You put a sports bra and deodorant on and call it a day.

Maddie finds this hilarious. “You know what should make you nervous? The fact that you’re usually the only girl getting high with, what? Six guys? You know they all want to fuck you.”

“I try not to think about that, actually,” cringing, you try to erase Felix’s voice when he’s high as a kite or Changbin’s arms from your mind, “and you don’t know that. Sometimes Ryujin and Lia are there. Or, you know, you could always come. You don’t have to smoke, just come hang out. I know you want to give Minho a fat smooch.”

Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “I love you, and I appreciate the invite, but I don’t feel like babysitting a bunch of stoners, even if Minho is there.”

Laughing, all you can offer her is a shrug. “I don’t blame you,” grabbing your phone, wallet, and charger, you make your way over to her and bend over to press a goodnight kiss to her forehead, “if you need me, don’t. I’ll probably be dead.”

“Oh Lord,” Maddie cackles, watching you struggle to open the window, “don’t die. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I’ll try,” you grin, military saluting once you’ve managed to flop over the ledge. With one last wave, you close the window behind you and thank admissions for giving you a room on the first floor.

[9:34 PM] YN: omw now, gather your forces to help me in :)

Nights in 201 are always interesting. First, their room is on the second floor, so climbing through the window is an experience. Things would be a hell of a lot easier if you could just walk in and out of residence halls as you please, but with the officer at the front desk documenting who comes in and who goes out, there would be a knock at the door at midnight asking you to leave. Second: as Maddie said, 201 means the whole squad is showing up. And when the whole squad shows up, you’re bound to feel a mix of anxiety and desire deep within your bones no matter how hard set you are on Mr. Hwang. And third: you know you’re in for one fucked up night.

[9:42 PM] YN: hereee

Standing awkwardly behind their building, you try and calm the nerves that always come when you know you will be with Hyunjin. Considering how close the two of you have become over the past few months, one would think you would have gotten a grip on those pesky feelings.

Yet again, it’s kind of hard to do that when he looks and acts like that all the time.

When the window slides open, you are expecting Changbin to hang halfway out for you to grab on to with the rest of them holding onto his legs. Instead, a tall, metal ladder of sorts is pushed out until it lands with a thud! at your feet, granting you a perfect staircase into the room.

Well, you certainly don’t see that every day.

Blinking in confusion, you do not know whether to focus on the crowd of boys waving at you from above or this abomination of a stepstool that was practically thrown out a window for you. Accepting the chain of events as just another fever dream of an experience in 201, you shake your head and begin to ascend on shaky legs, graciously taking Jisung’s hand and clinging to both him and Seungmin as they help you into the room. “Thanks,” you huff, giving them both a hug in return to their chivalry. And they dare say it’s dead!

Behind you, Changbin and Hyunjin lift the ladder-stepstool mutation back into the room and it isn’t until they have folded it into a more compact piece and set it against the wall do you speak up.

“Did you… buy a ladder?”

“Yes!” Minho bellows, thrilled by your successful entrance. “Isn’t it great?” After pulling back from a hug, he keeps his hands on your shoulders just to shake you like a bobble-head.

“Yes,” you grunt once he’s released you, head swimming, “a lot easier than hauling both me and Changbin through the window, right?” Looking to said boy, you can’t help but melt into his side when he pulls you close. “No worries,” Changbin beams, rubbing your arm, “at least we have some funny memories now.” When he moves to flop onto his bed, you realize with a shudder that you are alone with Hyunjin.

Well, technically not alone since they are all right there, but alone in the sense that they are not paying attention to you nor him.

“Hey, YN. I missed you,” he singsongs, engulfing you in one of his monster bear hugs. Disregarding the heart palpitations they may cause, Hyunjin’s hugs are truly the best and you wish you would initiate them more if it didn’t seem like such a big deal in that smooth brain of yours. “I missed you, too,” you mutter into his chest, squeezing your arms around him as if to engrave this feeling into your mind forever. “We saw each other, like, five hours ago,” he reminds you, finally pulling back and taking your will to live with him. God, he has no idea.

“And? You’re the only one here who doesn’t make me suicidal,” you lie because, in reality, he actually does. Just in a different way. “Aw,” he coos, large hand squeezing your side and you think you could orgasm on command, “good thing we have tonight, then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you squeak, finally remembering to breathe when he steps away to sit beside Seungmin on his bed. Suddenly, you are feeling incredibly grateful no one is next to Changbin because, well, 1) he is closer to Felix and 2), you need a distraction.

“Hello, Felix,” you greet the boy sunk deep in a bean bag chair, busy grinding leaves and packing them into the bowl of a bong. “How are you this fine evening, YN?” He asks once you have settled beside Changbin, brows knitting together when the older boy drapes his arm around your waist.

“Good. Tired, though. How ‘bout you?”

“You didn’t have to come if you’re tired! We all know you work your ass off, no one’s gonna judge if you chose to stay home and sleep,” Felix expresses, giving you a look that screams ‘mom.’

“No! I’m not that tired,” you assure him, reaching for his hand and squeezing for extra effect, “you know I wouldn’t miss this. You’ve made me a pothead.”

With a proud smile, he returns to his designated job and begins working on the second, smaller bong. “So,” stretching to set your things on the desk beside Changbin’s bed, you turn to him with a knowing smile, “how’s the album coming?”

“Great!” He beams, eyes lighting up at the topic. “Jisung is a great addition. Did I tell you we started meeting with someone else, too?”

“No, who?”

“He’s a sophomore, Bang Chan?” Somewhere behind you, Felix passes a bong to Jisung for the first hit. “Bang Chan? Holy shit, Binnie,” repeatedly punching his arm to express your excitement, “that’s amazing! I didn’t know he was into music production. Not that I’ve ever talked to him, but.”

“No, I get you,” he hums, giving your side a firm squeeze, “he’s really awesome making beats. I hope we’re successful.” Then, reaching past you, he takes the second bong and a lighter from Felix. When he resituates himself, he’s considerably closer than before. You don’t mind.

“Ladies first?” Changbin offers with a crooked grin, handing them to you. Then, on second thought, he holds onto the lighter to do the honors. “Sure. Thanks,” you laugh, glancing across the room to find everyone arguing over which color to set the lights to as they wait for their high. Bringing the tube to your lips, you offer a miniscule nod to him and then he is setting flame to the bowl. Sucking strong enough to generate bubbles, you unplug the bowl once he stops and breathe in as much as your lungs can handle in one go. Then, once you have exhaled, you quickly finish what’s left in the tube before passing it to Changbin with a pleased smile.

“That was a lot,” he points out once you have handed the bong back to him. “Hey, you’re the one who kept lighting it for thirty seconds. Mother would be proud,” you joke, reciprocating the same service and lighting the bowl until he glares at you beneath his bangs.

The best part about being high is the fact that you are constantly laughing. Things won’t even be that funny, but once someone starts laughing—you’re done for. You laugh so hard it hurts, and then once it’s all over, you realize it wasn’t funny at all. “Has anyone ever told you that you look like a squirrel?” Minho asks Jisung at some point. You absolutely loose it. It quite possibly is the funniest thing you have ever heard.

Pouting, Squirrel Boy leaves Minho alone on his bed to come crash beside you. “How are you, my tender oozing blossom?”

Squinting at him past the way your eyes burn, you make grabby hands and pull him close to wrap your arms around his teeny waist. Changbin grumbles in protest, but he’s too transfixed on the light’s soft in and out fade of different colors to say anything else. “Please, don’t ever call me that again,” you mumble into Jisung’s mop of brown hair.

“What?” He gasps, tilting to look up at you with puppy eyes. “You didn’t like it?”

“Nope,” smiling lazily, you rest your head atop his, “I love you, but I’m not ready for pet names yet.” His face morphs from a frown to one lit with excitement. “Holy shit, did you just say you love me? Do my eyes deceive me?”

“That would be your ‘ears,’ but yes,” you hum, brain simply not capable of denying it the way your sober self would. “More than Changbin?” Jisung whispers.

“Yes, but don’t tell him,” you return quietly, biting back a laugh.

“More than Hyunjin?” He counters. At this, you look up to find said boy sat with his legs to his chest across the room. Next to Seungmin, he looks like a giant; but a happy, pouty giant that keeps talking about how much he could go for a winter melon tea right now.

“Never.”

One and a half (half because it was just the rest of Minho’s terribly big hit that left tears streaming down his cheeks) and an unfinished game of Cards Against Humanity later, you find yourself in a blissful headspace. The song playing quietly through Felix’s speaker makes it feel like you are bouncing down stairs and then going up again, and the lights are oh so pretty, pink fading to red, yellow to green, blue to purple and so on. Things are fuzzy but crystal clear at the same time, the popcorn you’ve been shoveling into your mouth tastes heavenly, and your body feels like it is engulfed in a warm, comforting hug.

Or, that could just be Changbin.

Somewhere in between trying to get more comfortable and him yanking you to stay next to him when you attempted to get up and hug Seungmin for something sweet he said, you now find yourself on your back with a clinging Changbin on your side. You are so comfortable, but also insanely hot, and as you begin to slowly come down from your high as the hours tick by, you begin to realize it’s for another reason.

What started as an innocent hand on your side turned into his thumb rubbing meaningless patterns against your shirt, which then turned into his hand slipping beneath to splay against the warmth of your skin. Growing increasingly needy as the minutes go by, you turn to look at everyone around you. Jisung, who found himself returning to Minho, appears to be passed out with him on the far end of the room. Seungmin, curled up on the floor with a pillow and a heap of blankets. Felix, who finished off the rest of his weed, scrolls aimlessly on his phone still at the peak of his high.

And Hyunjin, who you assume has been fast asleep on his bed for a while now if the arm flung over his face tells you anything. For a moment, you feel sick with sadness. So close, but so far he lies, always a step out of reach. But you can’t deny how Changbin makes you feel—for right now, at least. And it would be a shame to miss out on an opportunity with someone else because the one you want is unattainable.

Right?

Changbin must sense the way your breathing increases, must feel the way your body reacts to the slightest of touches, yet he takes his time. He is soft in the way his hand travels up your arm, rough fingertips grazing over your collarbones before smoothing down over your chest and abdomen. It isn’t until you are about to burst at the seams does he give your ass a strong squeeze and urge your leg over his hips.

“Changbin,” you sigh, biting your lip to keep from whimpering when he begins pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the length of your throat. “Please touch me.”

He only makes a sound of agreement, savoring the way you squirm and grip onto his arm for dear life. When he offers an experimental roll of his hips to grind against you, you practically go feral. The last time you were touched in such a way was at a party in the beginning of the semester Jisung and co. physically forced you to go to, and Changbin has barely even touched you and it’s already better than the rushed sex you had that night.

“Wait,” he huffs, pausing his ministrations no matter how difficult it is to do so, “we can’t.”

“What?” You hiss, trying to keep your voice quiet, “why?”

“Because you’re high, and I’m high, and I’m not going to do anything unless you really want me to,” Changbin explains, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips when you frown in response. “But I do want you to,” you huff, chasing his mouth for another, “I trust you one hundred percent.”

“Are you sure, YN?” What about Hyunjin? is what he really means and you know he’s right. You should have never told Felix.

Trying to ignore the wetness of your underwear, you turn to lie on your back. “Whatever. Never mind,” you mumble, and when you glance back to him, you can’t help the way your heart soars with him still pressed closely to your side, blinking tiredly at you. But like he said, it’s not Hyunjin. “Just get some sleep, Binnie. Forget it happened,” smiling past the tears that threaten to spill, you ruffle his hair and press a softer kiss to his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Changbin whispers, returning the affection with a kiss to your shoulder. In minutes, he is snoring softly beside you.

You can’t fall asleep to save your life.

Reaching for your phone to check the time, you grit your teeth once you realize it’s almost four and you definitely have been staring at the ceiling for more than an hour. For starters, you are freezing now; unlike these passed out hooligans, you are showing a lot more skin and not being under the blankets is not doing you well. And secondly, it’s hard to fall asleep when your thoughts are flying miles a minute.

Is this how it’s going to be, then? Whenever you see someone, will the little guy on your shoulder whisper in your ear that it’s not Hyunjin? Or will people deem you off limits because they know of your infatuation? People who know, at least—Changbin is the first, apparently.

Just need to get comfy, you decide, trying to ignore such thoughts and turning to lie on your stomach. Bless Felix for leaving the lights on, too—you may be coming down from your high, but the vibe is simply immaculate. Tucking a hand under your cheek and following the ropes of light on the ceiling and up the walls, you find this to be enough to calm your nerves. Enough to make your eyelids heavy. Finally.

Someone lets out a monster train snore. Seungmin, you think, biting your lip to keep from laughing. Or, it could be Hyunjin. The thought is so amusing you can’t help but squint at the boy across from you to better see his outline, hoping he will do it again just to confirm.

No, not Hyunjin.

Because he’s facing you, eyes open, a soft smile plastered on his face. Well, fuck.

No reason to panic, you console yourself, returning a gentle smile in the assumption he can even see you. And you stay like that for a while, simply watching one another for an infinite amount of time. It’s not much, but it means something, you think, lost in the way the contours and highlights of his face change with each color the lights fade to. Just as you remember the whole point of getting on your stomach was to fall asleep, Hyunjin moves. Reaching for his phone, you watch in confusion as he brings it close to his face and starts typing.

hwang hyunjin👁👄👁 [now] Come sleep w me?

You almost throw up in your mouth. You must be dreaming. Surely.

Blinking against the harsh light of your phone, you cannot help your smile as you reread the text.

[4:02 am] YN: wont that b a little sus for bin

[4:02 am] hwang hyunjin👁👄👁: If anyone asks just say he kept kicking u or something

You don’t need to be told twice. Now that he has turned onto his side facing the other direction, Changbin does not stir once you slowly move to sit up and stand, nor when you reach for the quilt crumbled at the foot of the bed to pull over him. It’s not much, but hopefully it will keep him from waking in a few hours freezing to death. Then, as you tiptoe your way over to Hyunjin’s bed, avoiding Felix now that he’s sprawled half way off the bean bag, you cannot tell if you are still shivering from the cold or if the fact you are going to be sleepingwith Hyunjin in one, tiny single bed is finally clicking in your brain. Like Maddie said, this is something you want, right?

As you draw closer, Hyunjin shifts to make room and lifts the covers for you to quietly slip beneath. “Thank you,” you whisper, pulling the blanket up to your chin and trying to ignore the feeling of being so close to him. “Of course. You looked real cold over there,” he smiles tiredly. Then, his arm cautiously curls around you to rest by your head, fingers swiping stray hairs away from your face.

“I was,” you admit. Eyes level to his lips, you strain to look him in the eyes to resist the temptation now that he’s pulled you so close. “Changbin fell asleep and I felt bad waking him.”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply. He seems momentarily lost in thought, brows slightly furrowed as he chews on the inside of his lip.

“Do you like him?” He finally asks, voice shaky with hesitation.

“What?” You sputter, shocked at such a presumption. Yet again…

“No, no I don’t. I mean—as a friend, yes, but, you know,” you trail off, squeezing your eyes shut. You desperately wish you were not having this conversation right now. “He was touching you, though. And it looked like you liked it,” Hyunjin whispers, thumb swiping against your cheekbone.

“I mean, well yeah, I did. But I’m not close enough to like him like that. It’s just a physical attraction,” realizing you are discussing what went down with Changbin to Hyunjin, you suddenly pull back and lean up on an elbow to get a better look at him, heat now spreading up your limbs like fire. “Were you watching us, Hwang?”

“Yes,” he admits, “it’s kind of hard not to.” Your heart stops beating.

“I – what?” You manage once you have remembered how to breathe. “I didn’t know you were awake, we wouldn’t have… what do you mean, ���it’s kind of hard not to?’”

“You know what I mean, YN,” Hyunjin mutters, arm slipping around your waist and pulling you to lie down with him again, this time, your chest pressed to his. “I like looking at you. You’re very pretty.”

You definitely must still be high, because you are seriously having a hard time wrapping your mind around Hyunjin calling you pretty, as well as being so close, and somewhere deep in your mind wonders if he knows. If he knows how your heart is on the line here. Knows that with him moving closer, you are taking a huge risk.

When Hyunjin kisses you, you forget that this could be the worst mistake you’ve made in a long time. Wrapped around his fingers, you pray this is his way of saying he feels the same.

“YN!” You wake to Seungmin gently shaking your shoulder. “YN, wake up. Your phone has been vibrating for twenty minutes now. It’s Maddie.”

The wave of panic washing over you dispels the grogginess you feel from suddenly being yanked from sleep, as well as the recognition of where you are and who you’re with. Frantic, you sit up and nod in thanks to him before taking the call. “Hello?”

“Oh, thank God you answered,” Maddie cries, voice choked, “I’m sorry, I know you’re still out, but I just threw up and I feel so terrible and when I get up I feel so nauseous. Can you come home?”

“Shit, Maddie, don’t apologize,” you whisper, rushing to grab your things as Seungmin unfolds The Ladder as quietly as possible, “I’m leaving now. Don’t move, you don’t want it to get worse. I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” she whimpers before hanging up.

“Thank you, Minnie,” pressing a kiss to his cheek, you begin to climb down. “Is everything okay?” He asks, watching as you go with a worried frown. “Yes, it’s fine. Just a little emergency, don’t worry,” praying no one is out and about watching as you climb from the back of their building, you rush back to help Maddie as fast as you can.

You stay back in your dorm with Maddie for the rest of the weekend, fetching her water and ginger ale and food she can handle, helping her to the restroom, and binging all sorts of shows and movies with her. Seungmin, Jisung, and Minho visit Sunday evening, joining you for a few hours to watch Pokémon. You think it’s just because Minho knew it would be a good opportunity to snuggle with Maddie.

You can’t help but feel disappointed when Hyunjin isn’t with them. You refrained from telling Maddie what happened in 201, too caught up wanting to make sure she was alright, and by now you are starting to feel as if it wasn’t even real. Maybe you made the whole night up in your marijuana-infused brain. And snuggled up with Jisung, you can’t help but wish it was this annoying shit you were falling in love with.

On Monday morning, Hyunjin doesn’t show up for breakfast. On Tuesday, you find out he has been hanging out with a girl he met at his favorite boba joint and apparently won’t shut up about. First, you run back to your dorm to cry to Maddie, having to explain all of Friday night to her. When she leaves for her lab, you call Felix for an emergency smoke session. When Maddie texts that she is going to be out late working on a project, you call Changbin to tell him that you really do want him to.

Like you said, it’s just a physical attraction, right?

⇢ part 2

[chocoluckchipz]

A Soulmate for Christmas - 1

No one but you see your soulmate mark. Not unless your soulmate touches it, and even then, it only glows for a moment. Most consider that a blessing, but Marinette would say it’s a blessed curse. Because how was she supposed to find the boy who left a black cat mark on her hand fifteen years ago in the city that wasn't even located in France? So when she finds a model flaunting the mark she put on him all those years back in a magazine, she has hope for a moment. That is until she notices the article discuss his imminent engagement to someone else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, what’s the emergency?"

Marinette’s hand emerged from under the covers, pointing in the direction of her desk. "The new Paris Fashion. Page thirty."

Alya whistled upon reaching the said page. "Looking good, M Agreste. Good enough to turn my best friend into a hot mess with a single picture."

"This isn’t funny, Al. Look at his chest!"

"Pure lean muscle. Perfectly toned. He's growing up nicely. Though, I fail to see why this is a big enough emergency for you to make me bail on lunch with Nino."

"Look. At. His. Chest." Marinette crawled out from under the comforter and stomped toward Alya, pointing at the particular spot on the picture. "This. Look at this."

"A ladybug tattoo? So—Wait!" Alya looked up at Marinette, her finger pointing to the ladybug mark painted on his chest. "Are you telling me that’s his—" 

"Right where I put it!" Marinette cried, ducking back under her covers. "See? He exists! I told you. I can’t believe you were doubting me all this time!"

"Well, excuse me, but you were five, and he sounded too good to be true. Little boys don’t usually go out of their way to help crying girls they don’t know find their flirting grandmas at a fashion show in Milan. Little boys don’t kiss said little girl’s hand as a farewell while they are at it. And they certainly don’t ask for the girl to kiss their soulmate mark into existence as close to their heart as she possibly could. ‘So, they won’t forget her,’ right?"

"So, he could always keep me close to his heart," Marinette corrected. "But that doesn’t matter now. You were right. That boy doesn’t exist anymore, and this one isn’t as good as I thought he was, so whatever. I’ll get over him and move on. There are plenty of guys out there. One of them is bound to like me more than money, fame, and prestige."

"What do you mean? Shouldn’t you be happy your crush is your soulmate?"

With a pitiful groan slipping her lips, Marinette buried her face into her pillow. "Ugh! I can’t believe I ever felt guilty for crushing on him. I thought I was a horrible person betraying my soulmate for some handsome, sexy supermodel. Foolish me. He doesn’t deserve any of my attention."

"Marinette, seriously. What do you mean?"

"Read the article."

Alya fell silent as soon as she noticed the title. "‘Paris’ most eligible bachelor reveals… a long-time secret relationship with his childhood friend Kagami Tsurugi. Doesn’t deny Christmas Eve engagement rumour.’ Oh."

"And you know what the worst part is?"

"What can be worse than discovering that your long-time crush is your long-lost soulmate and then finding out he’s been not only dating someone else but very likely will propose… tonight?"

"How about being at the same party at the same time. As a waitress."

Alya swore under her breath and put the magazine down. "Mayor Bourgeois’ Christmas Gala?"

Marinette nodded. "The article said they both confirmed they will be attending. I'll get a front-row seat to my soulmate's proposal to someone else. Lucky me."

"Then don’t go," she said, sitting down beside Marinette. "I’ll go in your place."

Marinette couldn’t let her do that. Nino was going to propose tonight, so Alya couldn’t be anywhere but with him. "You’re spending your first Christmas with Nino’s family. I’m not standing in the way of that."

"I can spend New Year Day with them."

"You’re going to the French Alps with your family that weekend. Don’t try to weasel out of it. Your mom has been planning that trip for months. Nora’s flying in specifically for it."

"I’m not trying to weasel out. I’m trying to help you, M."

"And I appreciate it, but I’m not making you go instead of me."

"What about your father?"

"The doctor said he shouldn’t be getting up for at least another week or his leg might not heal properly and he’ll end up with a prospect of a surgery which we’re trying to avoid."

"Then, I’m sure Rose or Juleka wouldn’t mind stepping in."

"No." Marinette sat up on her bed. "They have plans, and I’m not going to ruin them. I’ll just have to grow a pair and face him like the strong, independent woman I am. Or rather go help Maman and avoid him at all cost. He’s not even going to recognize me anyway. I didn’t. Not until I saw that photo."

"That’s true. I doubt he remembers much about you. You were babies when you met, so just stay away from him and keep your hands covered. That way even if you accidentally touch he won’t see it. A pair of gloves perhaps?"

"Mayor has uniforms for all the servers, even those coming in with the caterers, so no gloves for me. But as long as I do my job and pretend like I’m not in the same room with my soulmate who clearly didn't think me worthy enough to search for and instead decided to date this very famous, very influential, extremely rich girl from his own circle, I should be fine."

"I’m so sorry, M." Alya wrapped her arms around Marinette, bringing her into her chest for a cuddle. "Men are stupid. Some more than the others. Especially the rich and spoiled ones."

Marinette scoffed bitterly. "Don’t I know it. I got plenty of examples from being in the same class as Chloe Bourgeois for years." 

"Isn’t Adrien Chloe’s friend?"

"I think so. I was hoping Adrien wasn't like her. Clearly, that isn't the case."

"You'll get over him soon, and we'll find you a nice, handsome, smart man who will cherish and love you for who you are."

"Soulmates are so last century anyway, right?" Marinette swallowed back the knot in her throat. No matter how much she tried to convince herself, this hurt. "I’m sure he doesn’t even remember meeting me. We were five. Who would be holding on to a memory of a random girl in Milan? And even if he did remember me, he probably thinks I live there. I thought my soulmate lived in Milan until he decided to show off his stupid soulmate mark to the whole world. Who does that, anyway? Those are supposed to be one of the most intimate of details of one’s life. You don’t just show it to everyone, and certainly not to the whole world while announcing your engagement to someone else." 

Her eyes fell to her hand where, invisible to everyone but her, an image of a black cat lay, a mark Adrien Agreste left there more than a decade ago with his first kiss to her skin. Just like a mark of a ladybug appeared on his chest when her lips touched it upon his request. He said he wanted to keep her close to his heart, so it would be easier for him to find her.

What a load of BS.

"Have you ever thought that, perhaps, that could’ve been a message to you?" Alya asked. "He went through the trouble of painting over his soulmate mark for the photoshoot so others could see it. It has to mean something. No one is dumb enough to think that if Adrien Agreste releases topless photos while announcing something as big as a possible engagement, there would be at least one person in France, or even Europe for that matter, who wouldn't see it. He knew his soulmate would see it."

Marinette laughed. Bitterly. "Yeah, a great message. ‘Here is my soulmate mark, my dear soulmate. In all the years I knew you existed, I didn’t bother to find you. But I did make sure that this picture, in which I showcase to the whole world the mark you left me, came along with an article where I discuss how much I love my girlfriend you'll never compare to in status, money or looks. Not that I even care about your feelings, announcing that an engagement is in the near future for me and my darling childhood friend.’ Yeah. This is definitely a message, Alya. He says ‘Screw you, Marinette. I’m better off with Kagami Tsurugi, and I thought you should know that.’"

Alya wrapped her arms around her tighter. "First of all, only brainless idiots would take status and money over love. Second, you’re the prettiest, smartest, and the most successful woman I've ever known, and third, you're an amazing and wonderful person who's on her way to becoming one of the best designers in Paris, so don’t you bring yourself down because of a stupid man who doesn't realize what he lost."

"It's my fault anyway. That's what I get for letting that stupid, cute boy kiss my stupid hand at a stupid fashion show in stupid Milan."

"You were five, M. And he was a dashing gentleman, helping you find your grandmother in a strange city you got lost in. You couldn't have known he's your soulmate. No one could have."

"Right. And he won’t recognize me, so I’ll be fine. He won’t even look a waitress’ way. Nothing to worry about. I’m very much certain the only person he’ll be looking at will be his future bride-to-be, so I have absolutely nothing to be scared of. Not that I’m scared, because I’m not. I just don’t want to be humiliated. Not that I’m already humiliated, but at least no one knows about it. That'll be awful if anyone else finds out—"

Alya grabbed her face and turned to look at her. "Marinette, breathe. Calm down."

She took a few deep breaths and tried to relax. Alya was right. This was fine. She’d be fine. Everything would be just peachy.

"As long as he doesn’t touch your right hand, no one will know. I still insist I go instead of you. Nino will understand—" 

"No. I’ll go. I can do it."

"Yes, you can, and you’ll be fine, but if anything happens, you have my number. I’ll be there in five minutes. You got me?"

Marinette nodded, pulling Alya into a hug. She was an amazing friend, and Nino and she were going to be insanely happy together. One day perhaps, Marinette would meet someone too. Someone who, just like her, was betrayed by their soulmate. Or someone who had lost theirs. Someone who would be kind and gentle and, like her, would just want to be happy. 

Someone who was not Adrien Agreste. 

Next >

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[13uswntimagines]

Boundary Lines (Alex Morgan x Asexual!Reader)

Request: Alex and Reader are together and Reader comes out as asexual and is scared of Alex reaction

Authors Note: Hey Dudes, I wanna give a special shoutout to my bestest friend ever @literaryhedgehog​ who helped me out with this. I hope you enjoy. Hit me up with requests, questions or if you just wanna say hi!

You cuddled deeper into Alex’s chest, reveling in her warmth. Cuddling with Alex was always amazing, it was like you were puzzle pieces designed to fit together. Your head near her shoulder, her legs tangled together with yours. Most of the time you just kind of dozed through whatever movie was on, appreciating the touch you were never quite comfortable enough to ask for. 

But then your senses kicked in. You tensed as Alex’s hand had started slowly traveling, away from your stomach where it had been comfortably resting. The tips of her fingers brushing just inside the elastic of your sweat pants. You nonchalantly took her hand with yours, placing a kiss on the back of it and intertwining your fingers. Alex laughed lightly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You turned to face her, sneaking in to steal a quick kiss, intending to turn back to watch more of the movie, but Alex had other ideas. 

Her fingers tangled into the baby hairs at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to her as she tried to deepen the kiss. You hummed lightly, allowing it to continue for a second before pulling away and placing a kiss on her nose. 

“Why do you always do that?” She asked a dramatic pout taking over her features. 

“I like your nose!” You kissed it again playfully, and she frowned. 

“That’s not what I meant,” She huffed, pecking your lips. You always did this. In the 9 months that the two of you had been together, you had warded off every one of her advances and then brushed it off as if it were nothing. 

“Well, you will have to be more specific then. I do a lot of things often.” You smirked at her, kissing her cheek this time and trying to turn back into your original snuggle position. 

“Babe, I’m serious,” She groaned, pausing the movie and sitting up which dislodged you from your favorite position.

“Noooooo, I was comfortable! Now, what will I use as a pillow?” You whined, pulling a pillow from the top of the bed and cuddling into it. 

“Stop avoiding the subject. Why do you always pull away?” She said seriously, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look her in the eyes. Was it her? Was this not as serious for you as it was for her?

You decided to be blunt, though you looked away from her, tracing the pattern of the couch with your fingertips. “From your kisses, or your wandering hands?”

“Both. We’ve been together for nearly a year, and it’s always the same. We’re fine and then you pull away and refuse to tell me why. I understand that people have boundaries and I respect that, but I don’t know what they are unless you tell me,” She said desperately, her eyes growing misty. Communication was important for a healthy relationship, and it was extremely difficult when you wouldn’t tell her what was wrong. 

“I just-, we’re alone-” You stumbled over your words, your cheeks growing a deep shade of red. 

“Do you not trust me? Do you not find me attractive? What is it Y/n?” She asked, tears falling down her cheeks. Your eyes grew wide at the implication. 

“I- you’re like the most beautiful person on the planet Alex!” You exclaimed, wiping the tears from her eyes, unsure of how to fix this. Unsure of how to tell her without losing her. 

“Then why do you keep avoiding being intimate with me?” She whimpered pitifully into her hands. 

Your eyes moved frantically around the room, your chest heaving aaa you tried to find your words. Your mouth opened and closed several times, in a way that would have been cute in almost any other situation. 

“I- I’m…” You stuttered. 

“Babe, what’s going on?” Alex asked you, taking in your frightened features, and rubbing circles on your arms to help you express whatever words that were stuck in your throat. 

You steeled yourself, taking a deep breath. “I love you. So freaking much. And I love kissing you. Like, the first time you kissed me I got weak knees. I just sat on the floor after you left.” You explained.

“Then why do you pull away? I love you too, and I want to show you that,” She probed, tilting her head to the side. 

“Because I’m scared that” You whispered shamefully. The words biting as they left you. Alex’s eyebrows furrowed. Were you scared of her? That she wouldn’t stop if you told her too? Was she too insistent? Had she fucked this up in some way? Alex gulped at the thought, she couldn’t lose you. 

“That what? Baby girl, talk to me. I love you and nothing you say will change that,” She murmured her eyes sad as she watched you struggle to explain what you were feeling. 

“That if we kiss too deeply, when not in public, that we might start going further.” You said, barely audible. 

“And you’re not ready for that yet?” She hummed.

Your head shook slightly, your lips forming a tight line as you waited for her reaction. This was always the part you dreaded. The part where you lost the people you loved. 

“That’s ok. I’m glad that you told me. You know that I’ll never force you to do something that you don’t want to, right?” Alex asked gently, rubbing your arm soothingly. 

“I know, but, what if I don’t ever want to, have sex I mean,” your voice cracks on the last word. You hadn’t realized that you started crying, but you had been avoiding this conversation.

“Come here,” Alex carefully pulled you back into her lap, allowing you to tuck your face under her chin. “it’s ok, you’re ok,” She whispered, rocking you back and forth. Her heart ached for you, ached that you were so afraid. 

“I don’t want to break up, Alex. I really like you.” You sobbed into her neck, taking in as much of her scent as you could before the inevitable came. 

“Who said we’re breaking up?” She questioned you confused, trying to pull you from the hollow of her throat so she could look at you. 

“No one yet. But.” You choked out, finally giving into her hands, but adamantly avoiding her concerned gaze. 

“But what baby? I love you. Not because I want to get into your pants, or because I think you’re insanely beautiful. I love you because of the person you are.” She reminded you softly, placing a very sweet kiss on your forehead.

You let out a noise that was somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “I know, but I’m asexual.” 

“Thank you for telling me,” She said softly, kissing your cheek. You were both silent for a minute. 

“I know but tell me what that means for you babe, it’s not a one size fits all term,” She asked, nudging her nose under your chin. 

“I know. And I really hoped I was like gray-scale, or demisexual. Like someday I would, you know suddenly GET what everyone was distracted by in high school.” You explained, picking at your nails. 

“And you didn’t?” She questioned calmly. 

“No. I fell in love with you, literally the most aesthetically… perfect person I have ever met, and nothing. Sexual attraction speaking.” You shrugged, leaning further into her. 

“Okay. What does that mean for us?” She whispered in your ear. 

“Usually at this point in my relationships, it means we become ‘platonic.’” You mumbled pitifully into her shoulder. 

“I don’t wanna be platonic. I love you so much and I don’t just wanna be your friend. You are attracted to me romantically right?” Alex asked you, suddenly insecure. 

“Um, yes, very much so.” Your cheeks tinted pink at the admission. 

“Good,” she murmured, kissing your lips. “For us to move forward, we clearly need better boundaries. That way I don’t push past the point you don’t want me to.” 

“Underwear stays on. Unless we’re like, changing.” You said seriously, pouting. 

“Ok.” She smiled, kissing your lips again. She could work with underwear, she knew how much you liked non-sexual skin on skin contact. 

“And no hands move beneath them. Above them… can be negotiated in the future, but you can’t expect reciprocation.” You continued, beginning to ramble. 

“What if we make a list? Things that are ok, things that you may want to try in the future, and things that are a hard no? This way the expectations are clear,” Alex hummed, pulling your closer to her. 

“Lists are pretty sexy.” You smirked, wiggling your eyebrows, and Alex let out a full-bellied laugh. 

“You’re adorable,” She murmured, kissing your cheeks and nose. 

“What, you know I like to be organized.” You poured, and she leaned in to kiss it away. 

“I know, and we’ll figure this whole thing out. Together,” She nodded seriously. 

“I love you so much. I literally can’t believe I was lucky enough to date someone like you.” You said as you pulled away, connecting your forehead with hers. 

“I love you too, and I still wonder what I did in my past lives to be blessed with someone like you,” She smiled back. 

You two had a lot of things to discuss and figure out, but in the end, it would all work out all right. She loved you, and she was never gonna give you up.

[angelbrock]

dancing with the demons -the fallen angel

summary: a mischievous 21year old girl dies from a crime she committed, finding her way and new journey to hell and warmly welcomed into the arms of the fallen angel.

warnings: can be graphic- lots of swearing- mentions of death!

pairing: colby x reader!

masterlist

//

your point of view

you laughed, flipping off the cop cars that chased your car down as you sped through the road. dodging cars, maniacally giggling as adrenaline pulsated through your veins. your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, speeding through the busy california traffic. good girl gone bad is what some may call it, but what you called it was purely living life to the fullest. 

what you had done was quoted, “the funniest thing anyone could ever do”. out of all crimes you had committed throughout your years, this one by far was the worst one of all. you had thrown eggs at your annoying neighbours’ windows, spray painted over shops’ glass, drank underage and drove, but this one. oh boy. 

you had not only vandalised a police officer’s car with sharpies, but you broke their walkman machine; which you still think was an accident - so not only were you going to get charged, you were about to be sentenced six months in jail. six months because of all the crimes you had committed. however, you were unbothered. 

you were determined to escape them, only adding onto your thrill. but, your plans suddenly changed. the second you swerved left, a truck came at the fastest speed towards you. you tried to react as quickly as you could, even though it was completely pointless. the truck had already struck into your side of the car. 

your car flipped, your head banged against the steering wheel, your vision went blurry. your heartbeat quickened, then weakened just as quickly. you shot yourself one last smirk before your eyes shut completely. 

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

you slowly opened your eyes, fluttering as you did so, then squinting almost immediately towards the brightest light you had ever encountered in your entire life. you sighed in relief, “thank god it was a dream.” you whispered to yourself, rubbing your eyes as you sat up slowly; groaning. 

“are you sure about that?” a female voice called out soon after you spoke. your eyes widened, jumping back to the unknown old lady. you stammered, “i know what you’re thinking. ‘where am i’, am i correct?” you slowly nodded, your eyebrows heavily furrowed. “this my dear, is the afterlife.” 

your mouth fell agape. “what..?”  she nodded in response, “d-did i really die?” 

“unfortunately sweetheart.” she reached out a hand for you to grab, you shakily took your hand in hers as she rubbed your back gently. 

“am i in heaven?” she was silent for a moment. your non-existent heartbeat wanted to fall to the pit of your stomach as to how quickly she fell quiet. 

“i’m afraid not my dear.” she soothingly spoke to you.

“wh-what?” is all you could say. your tongue felt dry and numb, you wanted to collapse, but you couldn’t let yourself fall weak. i never hurt anyone, why do i deserve to go to hell? i’ve never let anyone get to harm. what have i done. thoughts consumed your whole body. “b-but i never hurt anyone..”

“i’m sorry, honey. fate decides these things. unfortunately you have to be a part of the underworld.” you wanted to fight back and argue, but she placed her hand over your forehead, causing your eyes to instantly close. “it’s time to go, my dear. bless you.” suddenly, you were falling. you screamed at the top of your lungs, tears glistening in the air as they floated then melted away. 

you fell for a long time, before finally landing on a hard surface. you jumped from the harsh impact, crying out as you reached for your stomach, blood dripping from your mouth. you wiped your nose and mouth, your blood being the first thing that you see. you, being incredibly sensitive to the sight of blood, felt dizzy within seconds before you fainted. 

-

your eyes opened for the second time, groaning out in pain. “well, well, well. look who’s awake.” you were startled by the deep voice who spoke up. your eyes darted towards the direction of the voice,

“stop, don’t scare her.” a short girl scolded the boy. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“welcome to hell, y/n y/l/n.” the same deep voice guy spoke, smirking slightly. 

“h-how do you know my name?” 

“we know everything.” another man continued on, 

“okay guys seriously stop, don’t scare her.” a brown haired girl huffed out. “sorry about them.” she apologised to you, giving the boys a glare. 

“the big man is waiting for her, we should probably get going.” these strangers quietly spoke in front of you, as you weere not only freaked out, but were having a total anxiety attack in the middle of their small conversation. they all soon left the room, leaving you clueless and afraid. 

soon enough, the doors opened roughly, slamming against the walls causing you to shriek from the impact. you squinted your eyes, trying to see the tall figure’s face. “good-morning princess.” you thought the other guy’s voice was deep? this man’s voice sent shivers down your spine, it was that deep. he slowly walked towards you, the sound of his shoes clinking against the floor was so loud. he turned his back to you, shutting the doors and locking it, the man and silence intimidating you. 

you finally saw a glance at his face and, wow. ‘the big man’ as described came closer to you, crouching down and leaning his face towards you, making you flinch and turn away. “welcome to hell.” he smirked at you, his eyes gave off extremely evil intentions. what else did you expect, you were in hell. it’s not sunshine and rainbows, it’s eternal suffering and endless pain. “when someone is talking to you, you make eyecontact.” his rough tone made you flinch once more, his fingers aggressively bringing your chin up to meet his face.

you gulped, “s-sorry..” you whispered, your voice broke off in between the one word you spoke. 

“anyways, like i was saying, welcome to hell. my territory.” goosebumps rose on your skin when he said, ‘my territory’. he couldn’t possibly be... 

“are you..” a smirk slowly rose on his lips, 

“the fallen angel?” he mocked the saying, “yes princess, i’m the devil, lucifer, whatever the fuck you want to call it, i don’t really care.” you furrowed your eyebrows to let that sink in. 

first, you committed a crime, second, your car gets hit by a truck, third, you acutally died, fourth, you didn’t go to heaven, and lastly, the devil is sitting an inch away from you. what the fuck. you felt like fainting again. “woah..” you mumbled out, your eyes slightly rolling to the back of your head. his arm went to your side, forcing you to sit upwards. 

“this is your third time fainting. can’t you just suck it up?” your hands reached to your head, your breath being shaky as tears stung your eyes.

“why am i here..” you spoke more to yourself than to him. he scoffed, rolling his eyes, rubbing his temples.

“you pathetic humans give me a headache.” he grumbled out, clenching his jaw. “fate, fate is why you’re here. believe me, if i wanted to drag you down here for no reason, i fucking would. no hesitation. but you’re too much of a baby for me to mess with. so i’d get bored too easily.” he stood up. “this is your room from now onwards. and don’t fucking complain about it either. you’re lucky that i didn’t throw you into a pit of dispair as soon as you got here.” he opened the doors, walking out, “enjoy your stay, forever.” his tone was more evil than you had ever heard. he slammed the doors shut, you could hear it lock from the outside. 

why is this happening to me? why didn’t i just get thrown into an endless blackhole of suffering? isn’t the devil supposed to be this ugly, demonic looking creature? i’d rather die a second time than be here. the amount of questions you had was unbelievable. you fell back against the bed, why the fuck is there a bed in hell. another thought pondered your mind, covering your face with your hands as tears slowly slipped out. 

“what is happening to me... please be a dream, please be a dream, please be a dream.” you hadn’t even realised that you had cried yourself to sleep. 

A/N: i really hope you guys enjoyed part one! i’m so excited about this series, i have some really good ideas for this. also working on another series called ‘sweet and sour’ for a while now, let me know if you want me to upload those too! thank you for reading and leave any requests for some imagines if you like! part two is coming out soon! love you all <3 

[naruto-ichigo-soul-kyobabe]

Ateez’s reaction to you fangirling over an idol that’s not them

Hongjoong: 

He arrived to your shared apartment after a long day of work and wanted nothing more than to cuddle with you and relax. But when he entered the apartment he found you dancing around the living room while watching Wonho’s new song “Open Mind” on the TV. You finally noticed him as the song was ending and paused the video. 

“Hi baby! How was your day?” You asked excitedly. 

“Tiring. How about yours?” He asked while embracing you. 

“It was so good! I have been streaming Wonho’s song all day! He’s so talented and handsome! Don’t you think?” You asked happily. “I love how sensual he can when performing but then he’s just a big baby in real life!” 

He knew you loved him, but he was very jealous hearing you fan girl over an idol that wasn’t him. 

“Ahhh, I wish I could marry him!” You said sighing sweetly. 

“What about me?” Hongjoong pouted. “You don’t want to marry me?” 

You looked at him shocked. “What? Who said I don’t wanna marry you? You’re my loving boyfriend. I would be blessed if I married you.” 

“Well, you sure aren’t acting that way.” He said crossing his arms over his chest. 

You giggled and rolled yours eyes. “Baby, I love you. You’re my boyfriend. Wonho is an idol, yes I love him, but not like I love you.” You kissed his cheek. 

“You better love me more than him.” 

You laughed. “Of course I love my jealous boyfriend more than.” 

“Good.” He said laughing before kissing you tenderly. “You ever try and leave me for Wonho and I’ll quit being an idol and go live under a bridge.” 

“Okay Mr. dramatic, I would never leave you for anyone else. I love you too much.” 

He was satisfied, but he still felt jealous anytime you talked about Wonho after. 

Seonghwa: 

You were watching Taemin’s stage performance for Criminal and didn’t realize Seonghwa had entered your bedroom. You were watching the video intently and you started squealing when Taemin was dancing while his hands were tied. 

“Waaaah~ Taemin you’re so cool!!” You squealed. “Ahh the only man for me!” 

“Then what am I?” Seonghwa said while giving you a disgusted face. 

“My boyfriend of course.” You said without looking at him. “Come watch Taemin with me. Gosh, this man is so talented isn’t he? His concepts are so good! And he’s so handsome and his voice is just... ahhh!” 

Seonghwa sat next to you and watched Taemin. He did like him, but he glared at the video the entire time, not liking that you were acting like this towards Taemin and not him; your boyfriend. 

“Uuuuu Taemin-ah, I love you!” You said closing your eyes while resting your hand on your heart. “I could die happily if I met you.” 

“Do you love me or Taemin more?” Seonghwa asked pouting. 

You looked at him confused. “What? Of course you.” 

“You’re paying more attention to Taemin.. so I don’t know about that.” 

“Haha, babe, I love Taemin, but he’s just one of my idols. You’re my boyfriend, so no one could ever come before you.” You said caressing his cheek. “You’re my one and only.” 

He smiled and put his hand over yours. “Sorry, I was just feeling jealous. But I’m happy to hear that.” 

“I love you, Seonghwa and I always will.” 

“Me too. I love you, y/n.” He leaned towards you and gave you a sweet kiss. 

Yunho: 

You had been ignoring Yunho all day, you didn’t do it intentionally, but you were busy streaming Stray Kids new single, Back Door. You were either internally watching it and fangirling over everyone or you were dancing and trying to learn the choreography. 

“Oh my God! Yunho, look, isn’t Seungmin just the cutest thing ever?” You cried. “He looks so good here!! And his vocals!  Yes king, get it!” 

You even got your light stick out and started waving it around while praising the members. 

Yunho was happy to see you having fun, but he was low key jealous. Since he knew the members of stray kids, he was worried you might meet them and actually leave him for Seungmin, if you had the chance. 

“Y/n, would you rather date me or Seungmin?” Yunho asked letting these thoughts get to him. 

You stopped dancing and turned around to face him slowly. “Aha, what?” 

“Me or Seungmin.. who would you rather date?” He asked quietly. 

“I’m already dating you.. and I don’t want to date any who isn’t you.” You said going over to sit next to him on the couch. “Why would you ask me that?” 

“You seemed like you like Seungmin more..” 

You laughed and squished his cheeks. “Silly, I like you the most. I do have a soft spot for Seungmin, but that’s because he’s like a puppy and it melts me heart.” You smiled at him. “But you’re my favourite puppy.” 

You smiled warmly at you and looked away shyly. “Aha, really? That makes me happy,” 

You kissed him lovingly. “I will always choose you, so don’t feel jealous, okay?”

He nodded and then the two of you enjoyed jamming out to Back Door together. 

Yeosang: 

You were watching Yuta’s Kick It fancams in the living room. You were admiring his dance moves as well as his facial expressions. 

“My God, he could kick me any day,” you said quietly to yourself. 

“What?” Yeosang said looking at you with such a judgmental face. 

“Oh. You heard that?” You asked laughing. 

“Why does my girlfriend wish to be kicked by another man?” 

“Because he so hot.” You said shrugging and going back to the video. 

“Should I kick you then?” Yeosang said nudging your side with his foot. 

“Yah, stop that.” You said pushing his leg away. 

“Why? I thought you wanted hot guys to kick you.” He said doing it again. 

“Baaaabe, stop it.” You whined. “You are hot, but I don’t actually wanna be kicked. It’s just something us fans say.” 

“Oh, but you think I’m hotter? Or Yuta?” 

“You of course.” You said turning off the video and smiling at him. “You’re my super hot boyfriend that I am so lucky to have.” 

“Oho, you deserve a reward for picking the right answer.” He said crawling over to you. He hovered over you and started to kiss you slowly and sweetly. But it soon turned steamy with the kisses making you forget all about Yuta, just like Yeosang planned. 

San: 

San walked into the living room and saw you staring at your phone, you smile getting bigger as you stared at whatever you were. He was curious what could make you smile like that and it had better be him. He walked behind you and saw you watching a Yeonjun cute moments compilation on YouTube. He frowned when he saw that you were giving your attention to another boy; was he not good enough. 

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, which startled you, causing you to drop your phone. 

“Ah! Oh, San it’s you.” You said clutching your chest. “Almost gave me heart attack there.” 

“Y/n, do you not love me anymore?” 

“What are you talking about?” You said looking at him confused. 

“First you’re watching videos of Yeonjun and not me. Then you go and call me by my name and not baby.” He pouted. 

“Wha-? Of course I love you, baby. I was watching Yeonjun videos because their comeback is coming soon. Just getting hyped for it.” You said caressing his cheek. “I watch your videos all the time. Especially when you’re busy and can’t be with me as often.” 

“So you love me the most, right?” He said hugging you tighter. 

“Of course! You’re number one in my heart. Honestly, no one even comes close.” You boasted. 

“I thought so. I mean look at me; I’m the complete package.” He said as he crawled over the back of the couch to sit next to you. He placed an arm around you and pulled you close. “I’ll have to tell Yeonjun next time I see him to back off.” 

“Yeonjun doesn’t even know me!” You said laughing. 

“I’m not taking any chances.” He said making a mental note to never ever let you meet Yeonjun. “You’re going to have the last name Choi some day and it will be because of me and not him.” 

You were lost for words after hearing him say that but then you started laughing. “You’re the only Choi for me.” 

Mingi: 

You had been having a bad week and whenever you were feeling low like that, you would listen to music to ignore the world, more specifically you would listen to Agust D. You just liked how raw Yoongi’s emotions were on his mixtape and the lyrics always resonated with you. 

“Ugh, I can’t believe a man like Min Yoongi exists.” You said to yourself not realizing Mingi had walked into the bedroom. “No one does it like him.” 

“No one..?” Mingi asked. You opened your eyes to see him giving you the “🥺” eyes. You nearly started sobbing because he was so cute when he did that and it also hurt your heart when he did that; you never meant to hurt his feelings. 

“You like Yoongi’s raps more than mine?” Mingi asked pouting. “You think he’s more talented than me?” 

“Whaaaa! No, baby! That’s not what I meant!” You said rushing over to him and hugging him. “Yes I like Yoongi’s rapping and I think he’s talented, but so are you!! Like you’re crazy talented! Extremely talented! The first time I heard you rap I was instantly in love with you; no lie.” 

“Really? I had that power over you?” He asked smiling as he embraced. “So you would choose me over Yoongi if you have the choice between the two of us?” 

“Of course, baby. I would choose you in a heartbeat. No thinking necessary. You have my heart.” You said looking up at him. “I am extremely proud of you. You are so so talented and I wake up every day wondering how I managed to get a boyfriend like you.” 

He blushed at your words. “No, I’m the one who should be wondering how I got so lucky to have someone like you.” He bent down to kiss you. “I’m glad to know I’m your favourite rapper.. I better be your favourite rapper after what you said.” 

You started laughing. “Of course you are! Yoongi used to be my favourite rapper but then you came into my life and took over that spot.” 

“Good.” He said smiling happily before spinning you around. “I’m y/n’s favourite, you got that Min Yoongi!” 

Wooyoung: 

You and Wooyoung were relaxing in bed together, both of you preoccupied on your phones, but enjoying each other’s presence. 

“Oh my god,” You whispered. “You are the most adorable and precious angel on this earth.” 

“Thanks I know I am.” Wooyoung said. 

“Not you,” you said rolling your eyes and showing him what you were looking at. “I’m talking about the precious angel, Liu YangYang! Look at him! So cute! So adorable! I think I am in love.” 

“Ya! How could you say that right in front of me? Your boyfriend!” Wooyoung pouted as he grabbed your phone from you. He looked at YangYang for a moment before placing your phone down. 

“Okay I will admit he’s cute.” 

“The cutest.” You said teasing him. 

“Yeah, sure whatever. He may be cute, but you know who else is cute? Me.” He said. “And not only am I cute, but I am extremely sexy. No one can do cute and sexy like I can.” 

He wrapped his arms around you pulling you closer. He smirked at you before he started to kiss your neck. 

You blushed at his sudden actions. “I-I was just saying how cute YangYang was.. didn’t mean to make you jealous.” 

“Well too late, babe. I’m about to show you how lucky you are to have me, Jung Wooyoung, as your boyfriend.” He said before he started to kiss you passionately. 

You made a mental note to never fangirl about other idols in front of him. 

Jongho: 

“Oh. My. God.” You said suddenly while you and Jongho were eating dinner. 

“Babe, it’s not polite to look at your phone when we’re having dinner together.” 

“But, baby, I got a Twitter notification from Monsta X!” You said excitedly. “They’re gonna have a comeback soon!” 

“What!? Seriously? When?” Jongho asked getting up to look at the tweet with you. 

“I don’t know yet.. people are saying in a month or so though!” You said putting your phone down. “I cannot wait to see what they’ll release.. I can’t wait to hear Kiki’s vocals.. he’s so talented and so handsome!” 

Jongho sat back down. “I couldn’t agree with you more! His vocals aren’t talked about enough.” 

“Oh my god, I know right? He’s such an underrated member for some reason!” 

“I need to tell Atiny to support Monsta X’s comeback with me.” Jongho mumbled to himself. 

“You totally should babe. You’re the 4th gen’s best vocalist.. whoever you say is talented and worth a listen is definitely worth a listen.” You stated. 

He smiled at you shyly. “Thank you.” 

The rest of the night you and Jongho fangirled over Monsta X together. 

[rae-sparda]

Let's run around the world

This plan of yours is going to get us killed. I’m in. march2021promptchallenge

Pairing: Rebekah x Enzo

Word Count: 1277

A/N: First time trying this pairing. I’ve seen people talking about it and I think it would be fun

All errors are mine, I'm too lazy to look it up, sorry

Tagging: @hellotvshowtrash @elijahs-wife @elijahswife @umaficwriter @ronniemikaelson @lovelyandproblematic @mikaelson-emma @nikmikaelsonswife @xxwritemeastoryxx sorry if I forgot people, I'm starting this '-'

She never thought she would fall in love again. Not like this, especially not with who this man was and his friendship towards her exes. Well, just one ex and another one-night stand. Whatever. Both were laughing loudly and drinking more than enough to inebriate them. Suddenly he got up, pulling her with him, stumbling wildly through the room, snickering like children.

“Oh, come on. Not this Original blonde, Enzo! What is your problem?” The vampires stopped, turning to face the owner of the voice, the brunette was frowning and the blonde was not in the best mood. Vamp speeding to Damon, she smiled wickedly, snapping his neck in a second, happily waltzing back to Enzo’s side.

“Where do you want to go? We’re too drunk.”

“We are not drunk enough to dance, gorgeous.” Rebekah groaned, pushing him away but was smiling at his idea.

“Don’t think you can act cute and all that just because you called me ‘gorgeous'.” He snorted, pulling her back to him, hugging her waist, and letting his head fall on her shoulder.

“Whatever you say, gorgeous. Let’s go.” She snickered once more and they left, going straight to Mystic Grill. If she was honest, Rebekah was extremely happy she wasn’t back in Nola. Since she returned to her own body, she was ready to kill her mother and be done with the family drama. And done she was when they turned their wretched of a mother into a vampire. Fleeing was surprisingly easy and the fact that Nik respected her was something she was still finding it difficult to believe.

The Original sister felt giddy with the attention Enzo gave her, being a true gentleman and funny. Of course, there were times where they fought and she snapped his neck, but no relationship is perfect. They both had their fair share of problems with family and were simply looking for a place to be quietly enjoying their lives. She could still remember the first time they finally slept together, the euphoric feelings, and the way they shared blood. If she could, she knew she would blush profusely. Their bed talk was so simple, so naive and full of dreams she knew how lucky she was to have come back and meeting Damon’s old friend.

“What are you thinking about, gorgeous?”

“Stop calling me that.” She asked fighting a smile that was slowly making its way to her lips. He nipped her neck and she bit her lip, closing her eyes while she enjoyed the feeling of being with him. A throat cleared beside them, making both vampires turn their heads not impressed and angry at the interruption.

“Hello, mate. We’ll want bourbon, will be easier if you just hand over the bottle.” Rebekah snickered again, seeing Matt roll his eyes before leaving them be. Enzo pulled the blonde with him, seating in the back, on a table where they would see everything but wouldn’t be disturbed if they didn’t want to. After they finally had the bottle of bourbon and were virtually alone, they drank even more, talking about stupid ideas and the plans for the future.

“You know... We could just travel around the world. I would show you so many places that I know you would love.”

“And where would take me first, love?” Rebekah smiled coyly, stealing his cup and drinking it in one go, much to his annoyance.

“Well, we could always go to Paris. France is amazing... Or maybe we could go to Tokyo. The girls surely would love your accent.” She dryly remarked, rolling her eyes and ignoring his growing smirk.

“There’s a place I want to go first.”

“And where is it?”

“New Orleans.” Rebekah choked, coughing loudly calling the attention of a few patrons, and glared at her boyfriend, clearly not amused by his choice. Enzo, on the other hand, simply smiled happily, having fun at her expense, of course.

“Do you hear yourself? It seems like you never heard a freaking word of what I said about my family!”

“Love, lower your voice, please. No need to fret.”

“Lorenzo, darling... We can’t go there... My brothers wo-”

“We’re going tomorrow. It’s decided.” She opened and closed her mouth like a fish for a few seconds, trying to process his words.

“Please tell me this is just a drunk idea.”

“Nope, gorgeous. I need to meet your family.”

“This plan of yours is going to get us killed. Of course, I’m in.”

Rebekah regretted many things in life, getting drunk was only one of them. But what she really regretted was the raging headache she was enduring after getting in New Orleans and hearing her brothers arguing over her newest lover. They had already threatened to kill Enzo in a million different ways and the bastard wasn’t helping with his smirks and remarks towards Niklaus.

“For God’s sake, Enzo, just shut up.” He pouted, making her melt and embrace him, kissing him slowly much to her sibling's disgust.

“This is a family home, Rebekah!”

“If you say anything else I’ll stake you, Kol! And if you give one more step towards Enzo, I’ll get Caroline’s heart and feed you with her intestines, Nik!” She screamed, making her brothers freeze in place.

“Children, please! Can't you behave for thirty minutes?” Elijah, bless her older brother, was already tired of the constant bickering and trying, uselessly, to control his family. Rebekah glared at her boyfriend, her face screaming at him ‘I told you so!’.

“You’re asking too much of our beloved brothers, Elijah.” She sneered, pulling her boyfriend away to walk with her and enjoy the quarter’s festivities.

“You know when Damon told me about their feud with your family... I never thought they would be so dramatic.” The Original snorted and hugged him, nipping his neck while he pulled her closer and caressed her body, kissing her sensuously. Their make-out session only stopped because a throat cleared, interrupting them once more.

“I swear to god I’m go-”

“Rebekah... When Klaus told me you were back I didn’t believe him. But here you are.” The blonde blinked and rolled her eyes, a smirk twisting her lips.

“Yes, well... Why would you be interested? I thought you were after that psychologist... What is her name again? Oh yes, Camille. Chop chop, go after the blonde woman.” She saw the way he was glaring at Enzo and entered in front of him, getting head-to-head with Marcel. “Go away, Marcel. We have nothing to talk about anymore.”

She felt hands enlacing her waist and her body being pulled back. Resting on her boyfriend's body, she side-eyed him curiously. “So... This is the ex-boyfriend.”

“Technically Stefan it’s my ex-boyfriend. Marcel was before him.”

“Should I get worried, gorgeous?” Rebekah closed her eyes, denying it while she giggled, opening her cerulean eyes to face Marcel, ignoring the way he seemed hurt.

“Not even in a million years...” Turning around in his arms, the blonde girl pouted, biting his lower lip and pulling it slowly, making him hiss. Grinning, she licked his lips, to soothe it gently and cackled when the presence vanished.

“You hurt his feelings, love.”

“Marcel and I weren’t meant to be, Enzo.”

“And we are?”

“Of course, we are. Since I let you drag me here, you’re going to let me choose the destination this time.”

“I think I can live with that, love.” They smiled knowingly at each other before vamp speeding away and stealing a car. The road trip had just started and they had all the time in the world to go anywhere they pleased. The rest, like the saying, says... It’s history.