#I did research for this pls reblog

[helloworldies]

The video that was linked is actually NOT the original Death Waltz featured in the sheet music (sorry guys).

The song that was linked is a remix of a song called UN Owen Was Her?. Someone did a cover of that song and MISLABLED IT "John Stump Faerie's Aire and Death Waltz".

THIS is the ORIGINAL Death Waltz! It is an unplayable joke song and it sure sounds like it!

[awrkive]

THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, pt. 1 — JJK (m.)

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

GENRE r18+ (angst, fluff, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 20k 😍

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, jk sluts it out quite often😞, hopeless romantic!oc, countless mentions of weddings and engagements, angsty undertones, it’s the… yearning? 97liners assemble lmao, the surgeons gang: jk, oc, nayeon, doyeon, taehyung <3, explicit sexual content [dry h*mping, making out, c*nnilingus], alcohol consumption, arguments 🤓, i personally have only acquired a degree on Bingewatching Grey’s Anatomy so my medical knowledge is.. you see.. greys anatomy 💔 BUT! i did a lot of research for this pls dont crucify me 🙏🏼 belated happy birthday jaykay, my forever muse❤️❤️

NOTES hello awrkive nation!!!!!!!!!!!!! sorry this got delayed!! gave up on trying to make this a one shot cos it stretched out into 50k words IM SORRY! anyways check out my trello page for updates on my writing progress 🩷 make sure to comment down ur thoughts and like and reblog to circulate hehe !! asks are deeply appreciated!! scream your takes!! let me know what you think!! also made a spotify playlist for this mini-series soooo if u wanna listen to the songs that i think embody this fic, i've linked it below 🫶🏼

[ TLP MOODBOARD ] // [ SPOTIFY PLAYLIST ]

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

For as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

The girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations and a cute little beach wedding to boot. You’re the kind of girl who thought her high school jock boyfriend would make good on his promise of keeping contact until college. That girl who thought the guy she met at nineteen at some sleazy frat party wanted more than just sex. The girl who thought that her boyfriend at twenty-one would finally be The One after introducing her to his parents on New Year’s Eve. You’re exactly the kind of girl who thought that it was smart to get a boyfriend in her first year of med school and get proposed to in fourth year.

Reality pretty much hit you hard with a big slap on the face; because you soon found out that your love interest doesn’t suddenly come into your life while you clock in your shift at a coffee shop, and there is no such thing as grand love declarations – no one wanted to profess their love to somebody at airports anymore, or even in the pouring rain, for god’d sake! And there is never going to be a beach wedding when there’s no one to do it with in the first place.

Because even if you do everything right, men just always somehow manage to do you wrong.

Your first boyfriend, Changsub, just suddenly ghosted you after you moved to a different town for college. When you saw him again for winter break, he was dating the girl from his History class – the blondie who was always the cause of your heated arguments in the lockers because you’ve always been jealous of her. Needless to say, you never talked to him again, and Changsub never bothered to reach out either.

At nineteen, you met Soohyun at a frat party your roommate invited you to. He was part of your college’s football team – the regular famous jock, and you felt a little bit special when he showed you a little bit of attention. When he chased you for a while, you caved in and had sex for the first time. You soon realized that was his thing – “popping them girls’ cherries” – as what you’ve overheard from his equally asshole teammates when you made an impromptu visit at their sweaty, stinky locker rooms – and that he apparently had a thing for girls in the cheerleading team (you were a part of it for awhile). Soohyun just told you it wasn’t working anymore. He was out and about with another girl three days later.

You swore at twenty-one, you were smarter. Heck, you got your heart broken two times already by then by the same brand of asshole with two different names and faces! You must’ve been a bit wiser, no?

But in your defense, Jaehyun was totally different from Changsub and Soohyun. He wasn’t an athlete. He was low-key… an introvert, and a total nerd. A film major guy who was so good at getting you through his art. He told you you were his muse, and you believed it wholeheartedly for the almost three years you’ve dated, most especially when he brought you to his hometown that one New Year’s Eve and introduced you to his family on your first anniversary.

You don’t exactly know what happened then… he just ran cold. Backed out of your plans of moving in together. Suddenly got so busy with his gigs when he normally would make time. Until the elephant in the room was acknowledged and it was just over before you knew it.

That relationship was your first “I love you”, Jaehyun said it was the same for him.

Fast forward, he gets married two years into the break-up, which is six years ago from the present. He has three kids now, two lovely girl twins and one boy. You didn’t go to the wedding, just sent him a post-it card that said you’re happy for him.

Which is true. He was your first love, but the heartbreak didn’t last long like you thought it would.

Because lastly, there was Eunwoo. The guy you met during the construction of the condominium near the apartment where you were staying at for med school.

Cha Eunwoo was an intern architect around that time, a nice one at that that it didn’t really take long for you guys to hit it off. Too many encounters on the street made you think that maybe it wasn’t just a coincidence anymore that he was there whenever you walked passed by. You really thought it would be difficult for you to love somebody again like how you loved Jaehyun… but Eunwoo made it easy. He did everything right. From the cute encounter, a grand love declaration in your fourth year together wherein he proposed to you in a romantic cruise ship dinner, down to the beach wedding he promised you during that night.

What was supposed to be a three-month engagement lasted longer than you both wanted, though. And it was mostly due to you because you told him you couldn’t marry yet. Not until you pass your licensure exam. Unintentionally, it stretched into a year. Eunwoo blamed it on your internship, said you were too busy that you couldn’t really give him time anymore.

You still remember that argument so vividly inside your head. When you said you told him already that it was life for you in residency. He rebutted with the sentiment that if you wanted to, you would. But you knew it was unfair of him to say that – not when he was also volunteering himself for the mountain of projects at his firm just so he could impress the senior architects there. Eventually, the engagement was called off. You two broke up. You both settled that it was the schedule conflict… you were just both so busy with your careers. Such big ambitions. So much to prove, passionate to a fault.

But two years ago, Eunwoo got married, and his wife is a general physician. The last time you two accidentally bumped into each other at a café downtown, he said he was “so happy and contented” that he felt like “taking a sabbatical to focus on being a husband”.

You guessed then he doesn’t actually mind dating doctors. Doesn’t mind making sacrifices for them. He just minds specifically you.

Your long, tragic dating history should already stop you by now from believing in love altogether. You mean, it just never works out for you, do they? The universe gives you a taste of what it’s like to embark on that journey, but it never takes you to the final destination.

But what can you say… love is just so special to you; romance, falling in love… they hold a significant place in your heart that you can’t help but bet on it every time it comes. You just have so much love to give – but unfortunately no one to give it to, because the men you date always don’t want you in the end of it all.

It bubbles up frustration in you, especially when you see all your exes getting fucking married left and right and them having the audacity to send you an invitation – and even thank you for what you’ve helped made them become. Eunwoo made that lame ass speech in the café. It’s such a subtle physical act of slapping you right on the bone of your cheeks and violently hurts you psychologically.

You’re frustrated that marriage seem to come easy for them, but never for you.

It’s why you unintentionally spat water out of your mouth when one of your co-residents, close friend, Nayeon, announced:

“Minhyuk proposed!”

Naturally, your other friends at the cafeteria attend to your spluttering, with Doyeon patting your back and asking, “Girl, are you okay?”

You shake your head repeatedly at them, tapping your chest to regulate your breathing, putting on a tight smile before turning to Nayeon.

“I’m sorry— what? Minhyuk proposed?” You ask her, and you don’t intend it to sound incredulous.

Nayeon, thank god, doesn’t notice it. And you realize it’s because she’s in a lovesick haze to care about anything else.

“Yep!” She almost squeals. “You guys are all invited to the engagement party next week on Friday.” She giggles when Doyeon pokes her side, lightheartedly teasing her about the wedding.

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” You say, grinning widely, but your jaw hurts from the way you forced it. You look at each one of them; Nayeon, Doyeon, and Taehyung. “You guys are soon gonna be… married.”

Taehyung turns to Doyeon, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Doyeon’s still single, though.”

Doyeon throws a napkin at him. “It’s because your kind are bums. Anyway, Taehyung is also still not married.”

Taehyung pauses. Then, he purses his lips into a thin line, raising his eyebrows, nodding slowly.

“Well… about that…”

“He’s planning to propose to Hyerin!” Nayeon exclaims and quickly covers her mouth when some of the doctors in the cafeteria turned their heads to look in your direction. She shrinks herself small, as if realizing what she’s done, and then her eyes widen when she sees your guys reaction. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, Taehyung!” Nayeon quickly apologizes to him who looks like heaven and earth fell on him. She scrambles to say, “It’s just that I saw the ring in his locker today and so of course I have to ask and you guys met Hyerin, she’s an amazing woman and I’m so excited for her and Taehyung and she are a good couple aaand… I’m shutting my mouth.” She stops, closing an imaginary zipper over her lips when she notices the death glare Taehyung’s sending her way.

He turns to look at the rest of you.

“Well… you heard it from her.”

“Oh my god, Tae! This is insane!” Doyeon tells him. “When are you proposing?”

Taehyung shakes his head and rubs his nape. “I don’t know… she has this, uh, case that she’s confident on winning this Thursday. Maybe I’m going to do it when she gets home that day…” he trails off, and Nayeon coos at him when she sees his ears turning red. Doyeon throws back the napkin Taehyung threw at him, and she receives a juvenile pinch on the arm from Taehyung back.

You laugh along with them.

But deep inside, you’re finding it hard to process all the information that you learned today. You were just letting out words when you said that they were all going to be married, an exaggeration at best, because Nayeon is apparently now a fiancé, Taehyung has been in a long-term relationship with his prosecutor girlfriend that it’s easy to assume their next step is tying it down, and Doyeon is single but you refuse to believe that’s the case. It’s a wild theory that your friends have but you all feel like she has a secret boyrfriend or something.

Apparently, though, you’re not exaggerating at all. Because Taehyung is indeed planning to tie it down.

“It seems like everybody is getting married these days, no?” Doyeon mentions. She looks at you and you feel your heart beating abnormally for some reason. “What about you, __? How did that blind date last week go?”

She’s talking about the guy whom your cousin set you up with a few months back and have only gotten around to meet a week ago, Park Hyungshik.

They all seem to eagerly wait for your answer, and you can only meekly shake your head, sipping on a juice box so your jittering fingers can have something to do.

“It was okay.”

You can see the way their shoulders deflate, and you know you don’t need to explain the details for them to know how bad the date actually went.

“Fuck men.” Doyeon sighs.

“I agree.” Taehyung affirms, followed by Nayeon.

It earns a laugh from you.

“Fuck off, you guys.” You say, rolling your eyes, knowing they’re blindly judging Hyungshik in unconditional support for you. The joke is appreciated though, as it makes you light up and forget about the sudden grey that washes over your insides at the terrifying thought that maybe you’re never going to be married at this rate.

“You’re laughing right now but I’m still scared that you’ll just put up an IG story of you and Jungkook getting married on a random Sunday.” Nayeon suddenly says which elicits quite a violent reaction from you.

“Fucking gross, Nayeon!” You slap her on her arm and she gives you an ingenuine, “Owe!”

Taehyung laughs and adds in another nonsensical input, “That’s where my grandma and grandpa started, by the way. The line between love and hate is thin, after all.”

Your face contorts into a deeper frown every passing second as they continue to tease you.

“Fuck you, Taehyung. I’ll kill you in your sleep and me and Doyeon will hide the body.” You threaten him with your eyes and when he only laughs more, you make quick work of your hands and snatch out his egg omelet, putting it in your mouth fast enough he doesn’t get the chance to take it back.

“Aw, man! Hyerin cooked that for me!” He whines, going back to his seat, defeated after trying to get back the food from you.

But Nayeon is more concerned about another thing.

“Why is it only you and Doyeon? I can help hide Taehyung’s body, too!” She says, face painted with an expression so solemn as if you betrayed her.

“You made the joke first, you don’t get the privilege.” You cross your arms under your chest.

“I’ll commit perjury for you in court. Doyeon can’t do that ‘cos she still hasn’t told us about her secret boyfriend.” She insists.

Taehyung deadpans. “You guys really do love me a lot here, no?”

“We never pretended to love you, Taehyung,” Doyeon taps his arm, giving him a contrasting look of faux sympathy. “And for the nth time, I do not have a secret boyfriend,” She says dryly, sounding exhausted for having to say it again. And then, she turns to you, “Where is that punk, Jungkook, anyway?”

You scowl at her. “Seriously guys, why do you always look for him from me?”

“It’s just that you always know where he is, babe.” Nayeon says as a matter of fact. “No offense.” She says, looking straight into your eyes. When she sees your eyebrow raising higher, she adds quickly, “And malice!” And then she continues some more, “Even though I personally think you’d be cute together and all but we understand perfectly you both just have this sort of weird relationship where you’re platonic roommates and you’re like best friends but you argue all the time for no reason—”

“Oh my god, shut up, Nayeon.” Doyeon cuts her off before she goes on a spiral again.

“See why it’s only me and Doyeon who gets to hide Taehyung’s body when I kill him? You’re gonna tell the police word for word how exactly I did it.” You tell her, and she pouts at you.

“And we’re back to killing me again.” Taehyung comments, sighing, and you stick your tongue out at him in that juvenile manner, only that Taehyung does the same because he’s an even bigger child than you.

“Kids, stop fighting.” Doyeon warns. “Seriously, where is Jungkook?”

“He told me he has a laparoscopic cholecystectomy.” You say.

“Damn.” Comments Taehyung.

Everybody including you nod in understanding.

It’s always been an inside joke in your friend group that Jungkook and you are gonna end up marrying each other because you’ve known each other for a long time, the closest to each other, live together – and you both are also the ones that can’t keep a relationship.

After your breakup with Eunwoo in the middle of your internship which was four years ago, you took a break from dating for a very long time. It’s only two years ago that you picked up going on casual dates, having quick flings, all that sort of stuff. It’s an occasional thing and they never end up as something more.

It’s why you’re still single up until now, and it’s not even that you want to be so – you prefer to be in a happy, loving relationship, thank you very much – but you yearn for a deeper connection with someone, and every date just doesn’t seem to click. And even though you find a little ugly bitterness when somebody brings up marriage, you would never, ever want to settle down with somebody just ‘cause you feel like you have to.

Meanwhile, Jungkook is a special case. He’s single because he wants to be. He’s single because according to him, the bachelor life has “chosen” him and he can’t do anything about it.

It’s why he goes to this myriads of dates… with those… women. Sleeps around. Never attempted a serious relationship as far as you’ve known him except that one time in your last year of med school when he exclusively dated Min Sora for about a year.

You don’t judge him for the kind of life he lives. He’s just an admittedly good-looking, liberated guy who hooks up with good-looking women who are looking for the same fun as him. When you asked him if they ever do fall, he told you that they always agree prior sex that it’s just going be a one-time thing (two or three or four times if they particularly like each other… or whatever the hell he said).

Despite that, Jungkook is – and always has been your best friend. You met each other in med school and were in the same study group together with Doyeon and Taehyung.

As much as heartbreak is a constant in your life, Jungkook is a frontrunner in it as well because from being in almost all the same classes during med school for four years, you both decided to live in the same apartment unit together.

It has two different bedrooms, of course. The apartment’s a big unit he and Taehyung owned three years ago until Taehyung moved in with his girlfriend. Jungkook couldn’t pay for it all by himself, and the only logical roommate choice was you because when he proposed it to Doyeon, she just looked at him disgusted beyond belief.

You’ve been with each other for so long it’s quite impossible to not know the other like the back of their hand. You’ve seen him during his worst in med school days up until the years of your residency as does him you. You both shared the highs and lows of life with the other’s presence, and as much as you both quite differ in the way you approach certain things in life – he’s ultimately your person, the one-call-away friend (or the one-knock-to-the-door-friend), and the guy you can always lean on when things are just particularly hard to bear.

Jungkook may not be the most ideal when it comes to romance, but he’s the guy you’d certainly wish was your friend.

Why you don’t understand when the rest of your friends tease you both is because you’re so… platonic with each other. Sure, you’re closest – you knew each other first – but you and Jungkook never acted borderline sweet for other people to be making assumptions. You aren’t the kind of friends who call each other siblings but then get weirdly clingy towards each other behind everyone’s backs.

You may have had a tiny bit of crush on him when you first saw him during first year of med school – it’s a common fact that he’s handsome and whatever, okay – but he had never shown interest; from post grad all throughout the years of your shared residency. You never, either.

But maybe it’s the teasing, since you always fight like goddamn children whenever you’re near each other. There’s nothing romantic about it, though, you don’t think so. In your defense, that’s how your dynamic works! That’s how your friendship with everybody works! If you didn’t banter with a person, you probably hate them.

Shaking the thoughts of Jungkook in your head, you continue to eat your lunch, asking questions about Nayeon’s further plans, squeezing your break with the rest of your friends, knowing your pager is going to beep anytime soon.

What Doyeon said, though, everybody does seem to be getting married these days. If you could sigh, you would, but you have to do with a little bit of internal mulling for now lest one of the gang notices and you get interrogated for it. You don’t want to get aired out for feeling suddenly weird at the tough realization that again, everybody seems to be getting married and proposed to except… you.

You’re happy for them – you really are! You’d be such a shit friend if you weren’t. But there’s a pang in your chest and you know exactly where it’s coming from.

There was an added case to the OR schedule when you checked it earlier this morning, and you were assigned to it as per instruction from the chief of your team – a melanoma excision.

After your lunch, you went to scrub in for the surgery and it was what made you busy including the paper works needed to be done, so busy that you thought you’d forgotten the pain from a while ago.

Turns out, it sat at some bench at the far end of your heart, hiding and shrinking itself for a little while, only showing up when it’s time for you to clock out; in the quiet of the locker room, alone while you change out of your scrubs.

You let out a heavy sigh and lean your forehead to your locker door, closing your eyes and getting your breathing even.

You’re just tired from work. You tell yourself. You had two surgeries today; it would be true. But you know it’s not entirely that. It’s the reminder of your loneliness when you see an envelope peeking out from your locker.

You take out the invitation card for Nayeon’s engagement party she’s given you this afternoon. It’s a thick off-white material that has her and her fiancé’s name printed on gold beveled font. So intricate to the touch; you deduce once you run your fingers over it.

“Yo, what are you up to?”

You quickly stand up straight and hide the envelope behind your back, your other hand going right above your chest when you turn around only to see Jeon Jungkook approaching the inside of the room.

“Jesus christ, learn to knock.” You say, genuinely surprised and taken aback. Jungkook cocks a brow at you.

“Feisty.” He muses, and the way his eyes fall to your chest makes you realize you’re still in your bra having not put yourself into a clean and fresh top yet since you decided to have a sentimental moment in your locker door like some high school girl.

“Asshole.” You mutter under your breath, making quick work of putting on a shirt.

Only when you’re done wearing it do you see Jungkook stripping out of his own scrubs until he’s left with only his boxers across from you.

“Some decorum, please?” You tell him, turning around to sit on a bench to change out of your sneakers and wearing a more comfortable pair of sandals.

You hear Jungkook laugh behind you.

“What can I say? I’m a bit of an exhibitionist, you see.” You take a quick look at him so he can see how far your eyes roll to the back of your head. Jungkook ignores that, wearing his shirt while he says, “You’re out the same time tonight?”

You take out your ponytail and comb your hair through your fingers to fix it.

“Yeah. You?”

Jungkook smirks and suddenly there’s something flying at your direction. You’re quick on your reflex and manage to catch it on time, only to realize it’s his keys.

“You’re driving.”

It earns an instant groan from you.

Jungkook puts on another pair of shoes while laughing. “What? I drove us here this morning.”

You’re about to give him an attitude but then you realize making him pity you may be more effective. Stepping closer to him, you sit on the bench where he placed his foot to tie his shoes on. You look up at him and try your puppy face on.

“But I had two surgeries today, Kook.”

Jungkook stares at you, his expression unreadable. A few seconds pass by, with you blink up at him, and you think he’s gonna cave.

Instead of getting swayed by your poor attempt to get his sympathy, he takes down his leg and says with a sarcastic smile on his face, “I did a major one. Yours were both minor.”

Your shoulders deflate, making sure to jab at his thigh that was at eye level and snark, “And two is more than one. Fuck off, Jeon.”

Jungkook follows behind you while his boisterous ass is laughing.

“Don’t get pissed at me, are you kidding? It’s your turn to drive. Favor for a favor.”

You turn back to him, and because you were walking in a faster pace, he crashes to your back. He grips your shoulder, pursing his lips into a thin line, obviously holding in another fit of laughter.

“You’re gonna drive us tomorrow here, do you understand?” You say, giving him an ominous glare.

Jungkook raises his hands up. “Okay, okay.” He nods his head, and to piss you off more, he adds, “Bossy.”

That earns him a pinch to the side which he quickly dodges. Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and continue to head towards the exit.

You both enter his car soon after.

“I miss my car…” you longingly say, turning on the ignition to start driving.

“It’s still in the shop?” Jungkook asks while rummaging around his compartment glove to look for a snack. He always has a few in it. It’s convenient.

“Yeah, the mechanic told me it’s gonna take a few more weeks. So,” you look at him bitterly.

“That’s tough.” Jungkook comments, opening a granola bar and biting on it. He extends his hand to you. “You want some?”

You stretch your neck to the side, eyes still on the road while taking a bite off his food.

“Tough because you can’t bring your girls here anymore?” You joke a little. Jungkook gives you a dirty look. Your eyes widen a little, realizing what you just said. “Please say you don’t fuck in your car. I’ve touched your passenger seat and your backseat.”

“Give me more credit, yeah? I don’t fuck in my car, that shit is unhygienic as hell,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, and you heave a sigh of relief upon his confirmation. “I wine and dine my women before we do the deed, thank you very much.”

“You’re just so sweet, aren’t you?” You say with a straight face.

Jungkook sing-songs. “Just like how they like it.”

“You’re really beating them off with a stick these past few years, huh?”

“A gorgeous stick, might I add.”

That earns a disgusted groan from you, which he laughs at, and you drop the subject before it even goes to another place.

There’s a comfortable silence that sits on the air for a while until Jungkook speaks.

“Hey, what was that earlier?”

“Hm?”

“In the locker room.” He says.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. Clearing your throat, you answer, “Oh, it’s just, uh… Nayeon’s getting married. Do you know that?”

“Yeah.”

You turn to him in surprise. “Wait, how? You didn’t eat lunch with us.”

Jungkook snorts. “I saw the invitation cards in her locker yesterday, she thought she was being discreet. She threatened me to keep it a secret when I asked her about it, though. I guess she told you guys today at lunch?”

“Oh my god, you really need to stop snooping in everybody’s locker.”

“I do not snoop in in everybody’s locker.”

You give him a certain look. Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”

Letting out a heavy breath, you look straight ahead as you say, “I don’t know. I wasn’t doing anything…”

“Just getting a little sentimental in the locker room?”

“A bit.” You purse your lips. “But it’s not a big deal.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything to that. From your peripheral vision, you can see him staring at you but you choose to ignore that, focusing on driving instead.

“If you say so.” He says after a while.

You’re thankful for the dismissal. Jungkook’s usually insistent that you tell him everything – he’s just nosy like that – but deep down you know it’s because he cares. And if you’re in any trouble, he’s always willing to be there for you may it be listening to you vent or eat unholy amount of Chinese take out in the middle of the night.

As you went on the road, he played a few of his playlists and they served as background noise as you both talked about your day, like how your surgeries went. It’s a usual drive when you’re both in the same car together – which you’ve done quite a few times now because after all, you work in the same building and gas is expensive. It’s the most logical way to save up in this economy.

These past few weeks, though, it just so happened that your car got a little bitchy and started to act up so you made a bargain with Jungkook.

Anyway, you both arrive at your apartment shortly, with Jungkook and you taking turns in the shower.

“You wanna order in something?” Says Jungkook who’s currently drying his hair, a towel wrapped around his lower half.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he’s some kind of exhibitionist. Jungkook has the habit of walking around the apartment shirtless and sometimes with just even his boxers on, and it’s not like you aren’t used to seeing it! You admittedly see a lot of it when you guys would change in the locker rooms back at the hospital, but that is work, and you have more things to worry about at work other than your co-worker changing in front of you.

Still, it’s hard to get used to his exhibitionist tendencies. You had a hard time with it especially in the first few months of living together, but you had to adapt, and right now, even though you can say you’re partly immune to it, his naked upper half still bothers you. A little.

Listen, you’re a human being with primal instincts and men who have good bodies do, in fact, distract you a tiny bit.

“Nope.” You take a sip of the glass of water, closing the refrigerator with your foot, looking at Jungkook who groans at your answer. “What?”

“I was hoping we could split the delivery fee.” He deadpans.

“Wow. And they say chivalry is dead.”

Jungkook laughs while you head towards your room. He follows you until you reach your door so you turn to him, putting your hand on your hip as you ask, “What?”

“Don’t think too much about it.”

Your furrow your brows. “How do you mean?”

“The wedding,” Jungkook says with a soft smile. “And weddings, in general. I know you’re thinking about a few things up in that smart brain of yours. Don’t.”

You’re completely taken aback by his words, but at the same time, you’re not at all that surprised. Jungkook can read you almost like an open book.

Still, you decide to lie.

“I’m not thinking about weddings, weirdo.”

“Liar,” Jungkook’s brow arches, and you know he’s figured out your shit. “Your nostrils flared up. You’re lying.”

You groan, giving him a light jab at his bicep. Jungkook chuckles.

“My nostrils do not flare up.”

“It does so,” Jungkook points out. “Like this.” He stands there on your door and start to purposefully enlarge his nostrils to imitate you.

You roll your eyes. “My face is not like that when I lie. Go back to your room,” you say, pushing him slightly out of your doorway, ready to close it in front of his face, but you add more, “And don’t bother me.”

Jungkook stands up straight and gives you a salute. “Yes, ma’am.” he says in a register octave lower, walking away with laughter as you tell him he’s annoying. You roll your eyes once again before finally closing your bedroom door.

A lot of people may judge your love for romance as naivety, but you really couldn’t care less. Even if you get heart broken countless times, love will never fail to make your heart soft and make you feel like you’re floating.

It’s exactly what you think as you look at Nayeon and her fiance, Minhyuk, on the stage huddled so close together, laughing and giggling to each other. They look so incredibly happy. So connected. So sweet. It brings a feeling of warmth to your heart – to see one of the most important people in your life finally meeting the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with. It makes you melt on the inside to see two people so deeply in love that it emanates in the whole venue of the garden their engagement party is being held at today.

The weather is sunny – not too hot, like the universe knows not to fuck it up for Nayeon and her fiance. There’s also a lot of people; their families, some of Nayeon’s friends and probably Minhyuk’s – people you’ve never seen before. You assume it’s Minhyuk’s friends or acquaintances. The guest list for their wedding must be big, but it isn’t surprising, given that Minhyuk comes from the big corporate world.

“You want more champagne?” Jungkook whispers beside you, ready to stand up from his seat.

You stare at him, and you notice his eyes are not even on yours. He has it glued towards a woman across from you. A pretty woman wearing a satin dress that shows off her slender figure. You notice Jungkook’s been looking at her since the beginning of the party.

Shaking your head, you scoff. “You’re just gonna pick up some woman.”

Jungkook sputters and quickly take his gaze off the woman. “No, I’m not. I just think she’s familiar.”

You raise your brow. “Let me guess… one of your hook-ups?”

Jungkook huffs. And then off he goes.

Everybody has their plus-ones except you two, and now that Jungkook is probably off his mission to find a hook-up for the night, you’re left alone as usual.

You don’t feel bad about it. The champagne is good and there’s hors d'oeuvre on the table.

“Miss?”

You look up, finding the owner of the voice.

And holy hell.

“Hi.” You greet reluctantly, not sure if he meant you. You’re also trying to contain a blush from spreading across your cheeks because goddamn, was the man beautiful.

He smiles. Wow. Whoever this is… he looks pretty damn good.

“Is this seat taken?” The stranger says, pointing to the now empty seat beside you. You look around but can’t really spot Jungkook.

So, you shake your head, gesturing to the chair beside you. “No, not really. You want to sit here?”

He nods. “Alone?”

“No, not really… but I’m Nayeon’s friend. I’m her co-resident at the hospital.” You smile, taking a sip of your champagne that’s already about to run out. “Are you one of Minhyuk’s friends?”

“You guessed right. Law school friends. Worked at the same firm when he was a practicing lawyer until he quit some time ago,” You nod at that, and he gives you a boyish smile again. He offers his hand for a handshake. “I’m Mingyu, by the way. Kim Mingyu.”

You take his hand.

“I’m ___.” You both laugh when you shake your hands together.

His hands feel rough but at the same time warm. It’s nice.

“You’re a doctor?” Mingyu asks, keeping up the conversation.

“Yeah. A resident surgeon.” You glance at him. “I’m assuming you’re a lawyer?”

Mingyu nods. “Yeah. Corporate.”

“I see.” You nod, looking in front of you again, trying to stray from any eye contact. He’s way too attractive for your own liking.

“Say… I hate to make this about work but I just need to ask real quick,” Mingyu says, and when you look at him, you furrow your brows at the worry in his eyes, suddenly growing nervous at the depth of seriousness it’s showing. “So, I got here, and I suddenly have this sort of… feeling of heart palpitation. Increased heart rate. It’s like it’s missing a beat and it’s been making me real nervous.”

“Oh,” you look at him in concern. “That’s— did you drink uh… coffee?” He shakes his head. You place your champagne glass on the table and turn your body to him so you can face him properly. You don’t know if it’s just the doctor in you, but you forget about pretty much everything when you see or hear someone feeling under normal. “Are you a smoker, then?” You continue your line of questioning.

“I quit years ago.”

“I see… okay, uhm…” You look around, trying to look for something. “There’s a lot of roots for heart palpitations. Does your heart feel like pounding right now? Flip-flopping or something like that?”

Mingyu nods.

“Okay… well I can’t say for sure – I wish I have stethoscope with me right now. But I’m gonna lay out all the possible reasons why you might be feeling so. Smoking’s out of the question. You didn’t drink coffee, but do you drink more than one cup in a day?”

“Not in the past few weeks, no.”

“So, you’re not overcaffeinated, then. I really don’t want to lay this out on you, but you might want to check in with your doctor if this is not your first time feeling this. Heart palpitations is normal most of the time but I’ve seen lots of people get in these situations and it ends up being arrhythmia, which is a really serious condition.” You look at him straight in the eyes.

Mingyu looks stricken back. “Well… are there any more reasons out there that’s not… as dangerous?”

You still in your position.

Oh, right. There is more.

“Are you feeling certain emotions right now? Like, really, strong emotion?” You say, internally face-palming yourself because how can you not remember one of the very basic roots of palpitation!

“Yes, I am.”

“Well… certain emotions do trigger your heartbeat to accelerate. It might be anxiety… fear, panic, stress…” You look at Mingyu, noticing that his once serious face is now forming a smile. That makes you back-track, but you hesitantly continue. “... infatuation.”

And then he says, “I think you’re right off the bat with that one.”

Your lips part slightly. A few seconds passed and then suddenly, what he’s doing registers in your head, and you can’t help but to let out a laugh.

“Oh my god,” You say in disbelief. “You weren’t– you weren’t actually asking for medical advice?”

“Bad way to flirt with a pretty woman, huh?” Mingyu smiles and it’s so dashing that you shy away from his gaze, but you’re still laughing at the turn of events.

“God, no. I can’t believe I didn’t get it earlier.” You say, gingerly placing a palm on your forehead at the embarrassment.

But Mingyu just laughs along with you.

“It was just bad flirting. I’m sorry,” He says, sipping from his glass and takes a glance at you. “I can do better.”

You arch your brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. If you let me. Say, Friday, ten o’clock?”

You chuckle. “That was really smooth.”

Mingyu was about to say something when suddenly, you hear a familiar voice approaching your direction.

“Mingyu?” When you look up, you see Jungkook. You eye him in confusion, wondering how the hell he knew Mingyu’s name.

But then Mingyu speaks and you grow even more confused.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

“Oh hey, it’s you,” Jungkook says, and he looks genuinely surprised. Mingyu stands up from his seat to give Jungkook a hug, slapping him on the back – kind of like how guys usually greet each other. You watch as Jungkook reluctantly reciprocates it.

“You work with Nayeon?” Mingyu asks, and even with a smile on his face, you can see he’s also in disbelief to be seeing Jungkook.

Jungkook nods at him, still looking a bit stricken. You can’t figure out if it’s just his surprised face or something else. You’ve never seen him look so… stunned like this before. Nevertheless, he says, “Yeah. How ‘bout you?”

“Been with Lee and Song for the past three years, Minhyuk’s previous firm before he quit and went out to the business world.” Mingyu chuckles, tapping Jungkook’s back.

Jungkook smiles. “That’s crazy, man. I can’t believe we’ll meet here again.”

Mingyu, seemingly sharing the same sentiment, says, “Man, it’s been, like, what– almost ten years?”

“Yeah, yeah, too long, man.” Jungkook nods, chuckling slightly.

You hate to interrupt, but you’re confused, and you need to confirm something.

“Wait,” You butt in, making them both look at you. “You know each other?”

Jungkook sits across from you while Mingyu follows.

“We did pre-med together during undergrad.” Mingyu says.

“You did pre-med in undergrad?” You look at Mingyu incredulously, and he nods with a bashful smile on his face. You squint your eyes at him, feeling slightly betrayed that he asked you all that stuff earlier when the whole while he has a pre-med degree.

Jungkook cuts in.

“How the hell do you two know each other?” He said, leaning back and pointing between you two. It seems like he’s finally out of the trance he was in earlier.

“I just met him today.” You tell Jungkook, blinking your eyes at him.

“Well, how about you two? How do you know each other?” Mingyu asks and the whole thing suddenly feels like watching a game of tennis somehow.

You’re about to answer when Jungkook beats you to it.

“We’re co-workers. Together with Nayeon.”

Mingyu nods his head and then turns to you, “So not his girlfriend, then?”

“What? No!” you didn’t mean for it to come out that violently, so you repeat it in a gentler manner this time. “I mean no. What?”

Mingyu turns to Jungkook who’s now looking confused.

“I was just asking her out for a date.”

You suddenly feel blood rushing to your cheeks at his straightforwardness. In front of Jungkook, out of all people! You aren’t embarrassed! You just feel weird and shy.

But Jungkook looks at you as if silently asking you if Mingyu’s being serious. You tuck your bottom lip under your teeth.

Then he nods his head slowly. “Really?” Jungkook chuckles, looking at you. “What’d you say?”

Mingyu looks at you with a hopeful smile. “What do you say?”

You feel weird about doing the whole thing in front of someone, but you look at Mingyu again – how attractive he is, his charming smile, his physique, and his charisma… and you don’t think it’d be too bad to chance at least one date with him.

So, you nod, avoiding Jungkook’s sudden way too intense gaze.

“I would like to,” But he cocks his head to the side. You chuckle, adding, “Yes, Mingyu. I’d like to go out with you.”

“Woah!”

“Jungkook, please knock!”

You look at Jungkook irritably while you lock your stud earring, standing up from your chair in front of the vanity table to pick up your purse from the edge of your bed.

“I was just going to borrow your hair dryer.” Jungkook says, trudging inside your room freely which makes you roll your eyes at him.

You watch as he expertly makes his way to your vanity table and slides one of the drawers, taking out the hair dryer.

“You need to buy your own one.” You say with a straight face.

But Jungkook just stands there for a while, and when his stare goes on longer than necessary, you start feeling conscious.

“What.”

“What are you so… dolled up for?”

You jab him on the chest when you get near him, enough to make him wince. “What an asshole way to say I look good.”

Jungkook laughs. Your heart drops.

Most of the time, you understand that your dynamic consists of teasing and bantering with each other until one of you gets pissed off. That’s usually you. But they never go too far – you’ve built a foundation of respect in your relationship which you love. However, sometimes, there are moments when you’re under a certain kind of pressure – like right now in which you only have twenty minutes before Mingyu arrives to pick you up outside of your building complex and you still haven’t done your hair – and Jungkook laughing while looking at you is not helping.

The faux confidence falls as fast as that.

“Okay, Jungkook, can you just tell me nicely if this dress looks ridiculous or if I put too much make-up on?” You say, failing not to sound defensive.

Jungkook’s quick to halt his laughter, and he looks taken aback at your clipped tone.

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“You were laughing at me.” You point out, turning around to rummage through your make-up products scattered on the top surface of the furniture, thinking that maybe you overblushed. So, you look at yourself in the mirror.

Jungkook situates himself on your vanity table so you’ll look at him.

“Wha— you thought I was laughing at you?” You don’t answer, checking if your cheeks are way too pink, purposefully ignoring him. “Okay, that’s– I wasn’t. I’m sorry if you thought I was. I laughed at your words, not the way you look.”

You let out a sharp breath, look at him angrily, ready to present more argument, but you see the look of sincerity on his face and you realize then that you’re being borderline sensitive.

You sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Jungkook places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You pout at him. “It’s just… first date jitters. I feel slightly anxious, I don’t know,” You sigh again, “I bought this dress two days ago.” You say, looking down at it. It has a tube top with thin straps, fitting your upper half like a glove but flows prettily to the bottom, stopping just about four inches above your knee.

“It looks good on you.” Jungkook comments, and you quint your eyes at him.

“You swear?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Why would I lie?”

“To make me feel better, I don’t know,” Then you can’t help but chuckle. “Anyway, does my make-up look okay? I didn’t put too much blush?”

“You have lipstick on your teeth,” Jungkook says, baring his own to emphasize what he meant.

“Shit.” You panic, quickly ducking down to check it in the mirror.

You soon realize Jungkook was fucking with you when you hear him laughing beside you.

“I hate you.” You hiss, pushing his thighs so he can get off your vanity table. He remains on his seat, fighting your force while laughing. “Ugh, don’t you have a date of your own or something?” You groan as you take the hair straightener on the side, sitting back down again on the chair to straighten a certain part of your hair again so it’s looks nothing but perfect.

“Ohh, so you are going on a date.” Jungkook says as if he wasn’t there in front of you when Mingyu asked you out.

You give him a weird look. “With Mingyu, remember?”

“Oh, right.” He’s quiet for awhile, and then, “You’re really dating him?”

You put down the hair straightener.

“Yeah… why?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Nothing.”

But you want to insist. “He’s your friend. You told me he’s a nice guy.”

He nods his head. “That’s true.”

You eye him suspiciously. “You’re making me nervous.”

Jungkook chuckles and pats your head. You scowl at him and slap his wrist.

“You’re like a cat,” Jungkook comments. “Anyway, I told you, it’s nothing. It’s just…” He trails off. You look at him, waiting for his continuation.

You don’t expect the genuine smile he sends your way.

“I wish it works out for you this time.”

Lips parted, you think about what to say to that, but nothing comes out of your mouth.

Jungkook gets off the table and brings with him your blow dryer. Before he heads out completely, he tells you, “And don’t worry about how you look. Mingyu likes pretty women. You’re exactly his type.”

“Really, mini-golf?” You ask Mingyu, but he already has his fingers intertwined with you as you both enter the course.

You’ve just had dinner at some fancy restaurant that served, admittedly, good steak. He told you it was some sort of special place for him; where he takes himself to whenever he closes a deal or wins a case. You tried not to think too much about what it meant that he brought you there – given that you’re only on your first date.

But hey, maybe he thought you deserve to eat good steak? That’s probably what it was.

You don’t ask.

You thought the night was over when you finished your meal and good two glasses of Malbec, but Mingyu commented in his car that he’d love to burn off the food for a moment – and you didn’t really want to leave just yet.

So, you end up at Pier 26, and Mingyu’s enthusiastic.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He says, and you have no choice but to follow behind him.

“I really don’t know how.” You tell him, smile bashful as you watch him carry the golf club, walking towards the direction of the ball. 

“What’s up with that? I’ll teach you,” Mingyu says, putting down the club and unbuttoning his cuff to push his sleeves up to his forearms.

You try not to focus too much on the veins that show up at the action and how his biceps are almost fighting to pop out of his sleeves. His hands look so big compared to yours when he offers it to get you to stand beside him.

“Really? You’re gonna teach me like a big… macho man?” You tease, taking his hand nonetheless.

Mingyu smiles once you’re beside him, placing himself behind you, guiding your hands so you can hold the club together.

You can feel his breath on your neck as he instructs you what to do. “You just have to stand like this,” He lets go of your hands in favour of your hips, and your breath hitches when he whispers, “Look ahead, and you just… let go.”

The golf ball jumps out of the line and you giggle at the way it completely misses the hole.

“That was… wow.” Mingyu says, staring at the ball.

“Shut up! Okay, okay, I’ll try it alone.” You say, dismissing his incredulous look, a bit embarrassed at your performance.

From your periphery, you see Mingyu closely watching you as you grip the golf club a little less tight this time so it’s not too tense when you hit the ball. Squinting your eyes, you eye the goal and let out a controlled breath. You relax your posture just like he taught you and when you finally hit the ball, it lands right in the hole perfectly.

You turn to look at Mingyu immediately with widened eyes, and when he gives you a huge grin, you do a little jump out of excitement.

“Oh my god, I did that!”

Mingyu chuckles at your enthusiasm. And due to the high of hitting the goal once, you agree to another round until it turns into a session.

You only stopped when you got tired. Nonetheless, you realize it’s actually something you’re good at, and that geeks you inside. Meanwhile, Mingyu suggested you walk around the park for a little while.

Mingyu told you he was just going to buy some food at a stall, but as you sit on the bench to wait for him, you think about how you’d like to go with Jungkook here some time to challenge him to mini-golf. You almost always never beat him to any games… surely, he must not know mini-golf, right? You can finally have the upper hand, if ever.

“Ice cream?” Mingyu returns from the stall and extends the cone to you. You try not to show your wince. You’re lactose intolerant.

“Thanks.” You say, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. It’s not that bad, and you want this date to be perfect. Mingyu joins you on the bench.

The night’s cold and you regret not bringing your blazer with you and leaving it in his car instead.

“You know,” you start to strike up a conversation. “I’m still pretty shocked you studied pre-med.”

Mingyu chuckles. “Why?”

“I don’t know… but in hindsight, I should’ve known the moment you asked me about “heart palpitations”.” You say, quoting the last two words, trying to tease him.

“I really thought that was a good idea, huh?”

You snort. “It was–” you gesture with your hand, pursing your lips. “Pretty lame, yeah. But admittedly… it was cute. So, there.”

Mingyu laughs. “Thanks. I also thought that was a brilliant way to flirt with a doctor.”

You shake your head, laughing at him.

Silence sits in the air for a while until he speaks.

“You know what they say? Study law when you don’t know what to do after getting a degree, so law it was.” Mingyu shrugs.

“You didn’t see yourself as a doctor then?” You ask curiously.

“Not really. Didn’t really think too much about it when I chose a pre-med program as my major. Soon realized it wasn’t for me. I was lost in law school too for a good couple of years, though. But I love it now,” Mingyu looks at you who’s intently listening. “You? You always wanted to be a doctor?”

You look ahead, nodding. “For as long as I can remember.”

“Just like Jungkook, huh?” Mingyu chuckles. “He really wanted it a lot. I remember him excelling during those moving tests. He had a lot of people getting jealous over him for balancing his school and basketball lives so well, you know?”

You furrow your brows. “He did basketball?”

“Yeah. We were in the varsity team together.”

“Hah.” You smile. Jungkook. A jock. “That makes sense.”

“That I’m a jock?” Mingyu asks with a teasing smile on his face.

You didn’t mean him, but regardless, you nod, finding that it also applies to him. “You look like someone who plays basketball.”

“And what’s the diagnosis of that, doctor?” Mingyu leans closer.

You nibble on your bottom lip.

“Let’s say you have a… chronic jock face.” You say, not backing down from Mingyu’s sudden challenge of eye contact.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Is that a good thing?”

You chuckle. “It just means that you are conventionally attractive.”

“Ah,” he nods, but you notice his hand making its way around your waist. You don’t make a move to protest it. “Then, can a conventionally attractive guy like me chance a kiss with a pretty girl like you?”

Your breath hitch when he leans his face closer. One more inch and his lips will lock against yours.

“Yeah.”

Mingyu doesn’t waste a second longer and leans in to plant his lips on yours. It’s nothing short of a peck when he breaks away from the contact, but when you look up at him with parted lips, he goes back to kissing you again, cupping your cheek and angling your face towards him better, this time taking you closer by your waist.

It starts off as something experimental, like he’s testing the waters first. But when you take out your tongue to prod the side of his mouth, he does the same and inserts his tongue in yours.

You did not really think that you’d end up making out of some bench at a park, but here you are.

“Oh,” you unintentionally let out a low moan, and you hear a guttural sound coming out from his throat. Your hands come up to fist his collar as some sort of support, and Mingyu responds with a slight pinch to your hip.

You break away from the kiss to regain your breathing, and Mingyu takes that as an opportunity to plant kisses across your cheek down to your jaw. Sighing at the sensation, you close your eyes as you let yourself get drowned in the feeling of his soft lips against your skin.

But when you open your eyes, you see people walking by at a short distance and that’s when you wake up from your trance.

“Mingyu,” You call him, but he’s too busy kissing your neck. “Hey, I think we shouldn’t do this here.”

Mingyu stops. Then, he looks at you, eyes hooded, hair a mess, his lips swollen, some of your lipstick getting on it.

Your blood flows to your cheek at the sight. He looks unbelievably hot. God, what more if he was under you and you were doing more than just kissing and– no, no. Not going there. Absolutely no thoughts of … there.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Mingyu says after seemingly snapping himself out of the trance as well. “Shit. I really am.”

He looks so apologetic, so you put your hand over his arm.

“It’s fine. Just uh… let’s take it slow?” You tell him.

Mingyu gives you a small smile.

“Slow. Yeah. Let’s do it slow.”

What's the definition of slow, anyway?

The tension at the park was too much and you made out some more in his car with heavy petting that may have included Mingyu copping a feel of your boob and you coyishly feeling out the bulge in his pants.

Safe to say, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

You started coming over to his place, but you still haven’t had sex. Not yet at least. You haven’t even taken off your clothes in front of each other yet. Suddenly, you remember being eighteen and just making out with your boyfriend – the territory of any form of sex prohibited for some reason. Somehow, you two have never gotten around that for the past few weeks you’ve hung out. It may be because you always stop it before it happens, but it’s not because you don’t want to; just that it feels like you’re going to a place you won’t know how to go back to.

So, it’s mostly date nights, a sneaky coffee hung during the afternoon when you’re not particularly busy and your schedule aligns, and making out in his car until your pager beeps or when his phone rings.

And as good as Mingyu may be with his lips when he locks them with yours, he’s more than what you thought he was.

You have to admit that you had doubts when you first met him. You don’t trust a lot of good-looking men, because they always end up being assholes. He also has the face of a guy who – in a cliche fashion – likes to break women’s hearts on a regular basis. You went to the first date a little hopeful of something real, but you knew your luck with romance isn’t the best – may be the worst you’ve ever known – but recently, you’re starting to think that maybe the poison’s wearing out and Mingyu may just be… decent.

Decent enough to be a boyfriend. Your boyfriend.

And it feels so weird to think so. You’ve been single for so long, and sure, you went to a lot of dates during the past two years but Mingyu’s going on two months, and everything just seems so… right. Like this can be it.

You hate having wishful thinking. You hate getting your hopes high. But god, he makes it so hard.

“You going with us later?” Nayeon asks, stretching her neck while looking at you.

You’re all currently at some abandoned ward at the hospital where you take quick breaks from your shift to eat or talk for a while.

“Where to?” You ask, taking a bite off Taehyung’s egg sandwich which he gave you earlier.

“We’re going out for barbecue tonight. Jungkook didn’t tell you?” Doyeon says, coming back from her quick trip to the vending machine.

You look at them confused. “No, he didn’t tell me about… barbecue or going out.”

As if on cue, Jungkook arrives in the scene.

“She’s not coming with us,” Jungkook says, and you look at him with visible offense on your expression. “She’s going out with her boyfriend tonight.”

The room quickly becomes rowdy at the declaration, and you flip Taehyung off when you hear him let out a lighthearted “boo”.

“Oh my god,” Nayeon squeals. “Mingyu’s your boyfriend now?” She asks, going over to the bed you’re sitting on, huddling closer to you ready to hear some gossip.

Doyeon looks surprised as well.

You look at Jungkook to give him a death glare. The fucker just puts his hands up in the air.

“No, god– why would you believe him?” You huff out, rolling your eyes. “Mingyu’s not my boyfriend.” Nayeon’s shoulders deflate. “Yet.” You add, and suddenly, she smiles. You take a glance at Doyeon who looks at Jungkook subtly. Or not so subtly, since you saw her. She didn’t seem to notice.

But Jungkook just wears a smug expression as he approaches you closer.

“See?” He shrugs, plopping himself on the same bed beside you. He looks at everybody. “She barely goes home nowadays.”

“Shut up, Jungkook!” You say, continuously hitting him on the arm as he makes little effort to dodge them.

But as usual, your friends love to bully you and join in the teasing.

“So, you joining or what?” Taehyung says after a while.

You actually had plans with Mingyu tonight. Just the usual dinner at his place and some movie and some fooling around, but you remember Jungkook’s teasing and felt the competitive need for him to not be right.

Besides, you don’t want to be the kind of friend who suddenly ditches their friends just because they’re starting to date – and you know that beneath their good-natured chaff is a genuine feeling of sulk because you’ve been admittedly bailing out on all your hangs lately.

It isn’t even that much because you don’t get to hang outside the hospital often – but you usually do go out on Fridays or Saturdays for some barbecue and go to a KTV bar afterwards. It’s sort of like became a tradition at this point, and it dawns on you that you haven’t been present in them for the past few weeks, which makes you feel bad.

“I’m coming with.”

Jungkook immediately eyes you with an arched brow. “For real?”

You challenge him with a look. “Yes, why?”

“I just remember you mentioning you’re going to Mingyu’s tonight.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “I’m just gonna tell him I’m hanging out with you all. No big deal.” You say, believing what you said. Mingyu’s come accustomed to your group of friends and you’re both adults who live separate lives. As far as you know him, he wouldn’t be making a big deal out of you cancelling on a plan. You think he’ll understand. You hope he does.

“Oh my god, don’t!” Nayeon cuts in. “Don’t worry about us. Go date your hot lawyer boyfriend right now. Are you insane?”

You look at her incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

Doyeon looks at you, nodding her head. “Nayeon’s right. If it’s between a date with my boyfriend or having barbecue with Taehyung and Jungkook, I’d rather be with my boyfriend,” She looks at the two guys. “No offense.”

“As if I don’t want to be with my girlfriend either tonight?” Taehyung says in disbelief.

Doyeon rolls her eyes, but she lets out a low chuckle.

“Wait– why are we fighting right now? If __ wants to cancel her date with Mingyu to come with us for barbecue night, then let her be.” Jungkook says.

In the corner, Taehyung crosses his arms and sends a certain look Jungkook’s way.

“Don’t get too excited, Jungkook.”

Jungkook and you pretty much have the same exact reaction at that.

“What the hell does that mean?”

You feel a slight pinch to your arm.

“Aw!” You slap Jungkook’s bicep for what he did. “What the hell!”

“I said it first.”

“You’re a child.” You roll your eyes.

Taehyung raises his hand. “I think you’re both twelve-year-olds trapped in thirty-year-old surgeons’ bodies.”

“Twelve’s too generous, I think they’re mentally still in first grade.” Doyeon comments.

You don’t get to rebut as you see a glimpse of the resident chief coming your way. It seems that the rest noticed the same thing, and suddenly, you’re all scrambling from your comfortable positions on the ER beds and going your separate ways to the hallways.

You went to your go-to-barbecue restaurant as soon as your shift ended for the day.

The eating becomes a drinking session until everybody tapped out but you and Jungkook. More like, you, because Jungkook wasn’t drinking at all. Doyeon was the first one to call herself an Uber, and then Nayeon and Taehyung had to leave because they have an early shift the next day.

“Don’t you have a shift tomorrow?” You ask Jungkook, downing another shot glass of soju. Your alcohol tolerance is not that high nor is it that low, but after two bottles – you admit you’re starting to feel a little dazed.

“Yeah. Afternoon.” Jungkook responds. When he sees you pouring yourself another glass again, he takes the shot and downs it himself.

“Rude!” You pout at him.

“You’re all red and shit, it’s time to tap out.” Jungkook chuckles when you show him an even deeper frown. “Come on, it’s nearing twelve.”

“I’m so tired.” You whine, not even bothering to take your glass back from him, just letting your shoulder deflate and bowing your head down, your eyes becoming droopier by the second.

After four years of residency, you feel like you have started to operate on autopilot somehow. Wake up at fuck-ass o’clock at dawn to prep for work and finish a varying number of hours of shift for the week. You admittedly barely get time to partake in leisure activities – and it’s not new per say. It’s just like in med school except you’re actually doing the real thing now and instead of grades, real lives are involved and at stake – which puts an even bigger weight on your shoulders.

It’s why you’re thankful to Mingyu; for his presence… for starting to invite you to his place rather than eat out. Don’t get it twisted– you love the bougie dinners and all that, but his penthouse is definitely way more comfortable.

But lately you’ve forgotten about what it is like to hang out with your friends outside of the five-minute breaks in the hospital – and times like these you love letting yourself loose and relax because, hey, you deserve it a little!

“Should I buy you soup to drink in the car?” You can hear Jungkook ask. You don’t answer. “Yeah, I should buy you soup.” He tells himself.

And then you see him going to the counter only to come back after a few minutes with a paperbag in his hand.

“You’re drunk.” He announces.

You snicker. “I’m not.”

“You sure are.” Jungkook shakes his head as he takes you by your waist to help you stand up.

“Just feeling a little dizzy, ‘s all.” You mumble when you fall against his neck upon straightening your legs.

“You’re not just a little dizzy, silly.” Jungkook whispers against your head.

You hum as a response and you can feel the vibration on his chest as he laughs at you. He doesn’t say another word as he guides your steps outside of the restaurant, and before you know it, you’re situated in the passenger seat of his car, with him wearing your seatbelt around you.

“Thanks.” You give him a lopsided smile, shifting around in the space to get more comfortable.

“Welcome, your highness.” You giggle at his response. “Drink up, it’s gonna help you sober up.” He says, handing you the paper bowl of soup he bought from the restaurant a few minutes ago.

You groan, taking it from him and slowly sip from the cup. Jungkook tells you to get his water flask from his backpack on the back seat when you finish your soup.

The soup and water relieve you from the acid reflux you feel in your stomach. Only slightly. Because when you close your eyes and lean back on the seat more comfortably, that’s when you feel something in your throat.

“Jungkook,” You call him.

“Hm?”

“I think I want to puke.”

Jungkook immediately turns to look at you. “For real?”

You bite your bottom lip, nodding your head repeatedly.

“Okay, shit– wait,” Jungkook looks around for something. Probably a plastic bag or whatever. But when he finishes scoping the area around the interior of his car, he seems to find nothing. When he glances at the rearview mirror, he takes a reverse and suddenly, he turns off the ignition of his car. “I’ll park here for a while. Let’s go outside.”

He gets out of the car first before opening your door. You think you’re fine to walk on your own, but you don’t oppose to Jungkook wrapping his arm around your waist and leading you to a…

Playground. The swings, in particular.

“Sit here for a bit.” He instructs, holding the chains steady for you as he waits until you’re sitting on it. He runs towards the car, and you feel way too weird in the throat to ask him why.

You recognize the place that’s not exactly far away from your complex. Maybe a ten-minute drive away.

Jungkook comes back with a crumpled plastic bag. It’s from a familiar provision shop. Probably was in his compartment glove the whole time.

“Here,” he hands you the plastic. “I’ll help you.”

You get it from him and shake your head.

“No, it’s fine.”

“I don’t mind.”

You look at him straight in the eye. “You’re not gonna help me puke, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stares at you for a while and then sighs. He holds the chains of your swing again, standing beside you, putting his hand in his pockets.

“Okay. Puke your heart out.”

You snort. You open the plastic bag and get a feel of that weird invasive push in your throat – until you realize Jungkook is watching you.

Looking up at him, you whine, “Jungkook. Don’t watch.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “I’m not watching.”

“It’s gross.” You say, a bit embarrassed. The whole thing’s embarrassing, to be honest. Jungkook taking care of you because you got stupid drunk. It’s not the first time, and there were definitely a lot more occurrences worse than this – you’re just grateful he hasn’t kicked you out of a curb. Yet.

“Watching somebody puke?” He scoffs as he says your name. “We literally amputated a leg today, and FYI, I’m just scared you’re gonna have some serious complication while puking.”

You frown because– okay. Fair. He has valid points.

“Okay. Well. I’m not gonna die puking. So, turn around or stand back there at the slides far from me.”

“Seriously?” Jungkook asks, disbelief painting his voice.

You just nod. Thankfully, he doesn’t say any more and obediently walks about five steps away from you, acquiescing to your request.

It takes you a few minutes to settle yourself before you let out the accumulation of what you’ve digested for the day. Your throat feels crass when you’re done, and your stomach feels empty. When you look ahead, your head still feels like it’s floating. But at least you feel a little better now.

“Drink this,” Jungkook approaches you again and gives you his tumbler once again. You drink from it quickly and quietly. “Feel okay now?”

You hum, nodding and smiling up at him.

“Thanks, Kook.”

He only mirrors your smile and goes to sit on the swing beside you. “You wanna go home now?”

You nibble on your bottom lip, contemplating his question. As you look around, you notice it’s so... solemn. It’s midnight, after all. There’s a sort of eerie calmness with the cricket sounds but the wind is nice and the dark skies project twinkling lights.

“It’s so nice here,” You say instead.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Jungkook chuckles and you follow.

You look at him and sincerely, you ask, “Just for a few minutes, please?”

Jungkook’s quick to say, “Okay.”

His voice is just as gentle as the night breeze.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. You’re sobering up?”

“Eh. I’m getting there.”

“Good.”

You look at him again. “Thank you.”

Jungkook sends you a confused look, but there’s a smile on his face.

“I heard that.”

You chuckle. “And I’m saying it again. Thank you.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Alright. You’re welcome. Times two. And you’re not allowed to say it again.”

You both laugh at the exchange. The silence that follows after that is comfortable.

“You know, you still remember Changsub? My first boyfriend?” Jungkook nods at your words. “He asked me to be his girlfriend at a playground. Some old one in our hometown.” You pause for a while, recalling that memory. You laugh because it was just… so long ago. But the pictures are still so vivid in your head.

“Sweet. Too bad he’s an asshole, huh?” Jungkook comments, having known most of your relationship history.

“Yeah,” You shrug, laughing still. “But I, uhm, I remember a day after that– I had, like, this whole scenario in my head. I pictured a few years down the line, he’s on his knees and he’s showing me a ring asking me to be his wife on the very same playground. I thought it would be really sweet if he proposed to me at the same place.”

“Wow.” Jungkook muses, and you chuckle at the reaction.

“I know. It was crazy. I mean, why the hell was I thinking about getting married at that time? I was literally only sixteen and I think I had an AP assignment due the day after that. I was just so in my head.” You say, looking at Jungkook who has a smile of amusement on his face.

And then your laughter fades.

“I was so naive that time. But then I was also naive at twenty. And Jungkook…” You bite your bottom lip, feeling it quiver when you look into his eyes this time. “I’m afraid that I’m still naive at thirty.”

Jungkook calls your name softly, noticing the drop on your tone and the shift from playful to… melancholic.

You close your eyes and draw a deep breath.

“I like Mingyu. I really like him a lot,” And the declaration feels weird verbally announced. You’ve thought it for the past few weeks you’ve been with him – but you’ve both never said it to each other. Not yet. But saying it out loud now – it feels different. It feels real. And you’re so scared. “And we enjoy each other’s company a lot that I feel like he likes me just as much as I like him. You know, we kissed on the first date. I don’t usually kiss on the first date. But I like him so much that I did.”

You look at Jungkook sadly. You gauge the look on his face, but he just sits there with an unreadable expression on his face, though he listens. He always does. You’re not particularly looking for any response, anyway. And he just seems to know so well that right now, you just want to vent.

“It’s so embarrassing to say but I feel like he’s it, Kook.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “And I feel like… like the last time I felt this way about someone was with Eunwoo. And that was four years ago—” You let your head fall slightly. “And I’m so scared.” You don’t intend the crack in your voice when you say it.

“Hey,” Jungkook calls you again, turning his body towards you, reaching out to hold your arm.

“What if I’m wrong? Again?” You tell him.

It takes Jungkook a few seconds to answer.

“I think, __, that you’re a person with a big heart,” You scoff with a smile on your face at that. You get that a lot. But Jungkook insists, “I think you have so much love to give, you know? And I think… Mingyu’s a lucky guy if he gets to receive it.”

That makes your lips curl. Touched.

“You think so?”

Jungkook only nods.

“Why can’t you be nice to me like this all the time?” You crack a joke.

“I’m always nice to you,” Jungkook says in disbelief, obviously finding your words absurd. You only laugh but now Jungkook turns serious, and you fear you might have induced a genuine worry in him. “Am I not always nice to you?”

“You always tease me and shit in front of our friends but so incredibly sweet when we’re all alone.”

Jungkook stutters when he says, “Well… that’s my love language. Teasing you.”

You squint your eyes at him. “Awe, you love me?”

“Okay, fuck off.”

You burst into laughter when Jungkook rolls his eyes at you.

“Hey, swing me.”

You tell Jungkook, situating yourself more comfortably on the wooden platform attached to the chains.

“A dollar per minute.” He says, standing up from his own seat and placing himself behind you.

“I thought you hate capitalism? What is this?”

“This is forced labor.” Jungkook says with a groan that you think is a feigned exasperation, since you begin to feel movement right after it.

“You broke my hairdryer the other day. Consider this your compensation.” You look up at him to give him a smarmy smile.

Fom where you’re seated, you realize just how… big his presence is. It’s not the looming, ominous type, though – it’s quite the opposite. When Jungkook surrounds you, you find a bit of comfort in it – a huge one if you want to be honest to yourself.

“And I already bought you a new one. We’re even.” Jungkook squints his eyes at you.

You laugh.

“You’re gonna borrow and break it again.”

He visibly winces. “Touché.”

Jungkook swings you while you talk about your day, just like usual. He asks you about your laparoscopy that kept you from having lunch with the rest of your friends at the hospital earlier that day, about your new scrub cap, and you gossip a little about the new lab tech having a crush on the scrub nurse you both know.

For all his complaints earlier, Jungkook seemingly doesn’t seem to mind having swung you for the past ten minutes now. He’s relaxed and gentle with his movements, and his voice is quaint and soft as he talks to you.

But then you start to feel bad for him so you tell him to stop, standing up from the swing.

“Okay, your turn.”

Jungkook gives you a big grin.

“Nice.”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm when he sits on the swing chair this time around. But when you attempt a push, he barely moves, prompting him to laugh.

“What weak ass push was that?” He says incredulously, looking at you.

You jut your bottom lip out. “You’re heavy and I’m drunk.”

The second time you push him is more forceful but then Jungkook voices out a complaint after the third, fourth, and every single time you do it. You roll your eyes at his tantrums, but then suddenly, you think of a much better idea.

You push him off the swing with all your remaining strength even though your body feels like jelly from all the alcohol you consumed an hour ago.

“What the fuck, __?”

You burst out in boisterous laughter at Jungkook’s state, his hands and knees planted on the ground. He then sits on it, clapping his palms together to get rid of some dust that gathered on his skin.

Without thinking too much about it, you make quick steps over to his direction and situate yourself beside him.

Jungkook looks at you, confused, but you only give him a grin.

“Let’s lie on the ground.”

“What? No!” Jungkook immediately opposes it. As you expected.

You scrunch your face. “Oh! Look at me! I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’m a germaphobe and I’m afraid of dirt!” You say, intentionally making your voice a pitch higher.

Jungkook deadpans. “Pathogens can kill your cells’ metabolic machinery, so, yeah? I’m afraid of dirt.”

You roll your eyes at him and while he goes off about how they can also cause a toxic massive immune reaction, you push his chest forcefully which catches him off guard, prompting him to lay on the ground. Before he can say anything, you take his arm out to spread beside you and you use it to rest your head on.

Jungkook stops his rambling after that.

“See, shut up.” You say, backhanding him slightly on the chest. You fix your gaze at the skies.

“The sky is beautiful tonight. Worry about your pathogens next time.”

Jungkook chuckles, and you feel the vibration of his body as he does so, being so close to him.

As you peer up to look at him, you see him folding his other arm to lie his head on it.

You smile, going back to looking at the sky.

“This is like in The Notebook.” Jungkook says after a beat of silence.

“Right?” You grin. “And with the pathogens, too.” You tease.

Jungkook laughs, pinching your arm in his reach. “God, shut up about your pathogens.”

You chuckle at the irony.

“That’s me,” you point upwards, referring to a big twinkling light in the sky. Then, you move your finger towards the star beside it. “And then that’s you, ‘cause I’m a bigger star than you.”

You feel Jungkook look at you from his position. “You are so drunk.”

That causes you to giggle, clutching your stomach because you can’t stop laughing at pretty much everything tonight.

“I feel like I'm not anymore. My head just feels like it’s floating but no, definitely not drunk.”

“Whatever you say.” Jungkook says, chest vibrating from laughing at you.

“Hm. Race you to sleep, Jungkook.” You snuggle on his armpit. As you do, you smell a waft of your water lily springs body wash from Bath and Body Works. “Can you stop using my body wash?”

“What?” You can hear Jungkook say, but as he calls your name and more, his voice starts fading. “__? Hey, don’t sleep on me.”

You hum, eyes still closed.

“__, hey!” Jungkook grazes your arms. You can feel your head moving as Jungkook starts to sit, guiding your back to sit upright. He calls you again, gently tapping your cheek to wake you up.

The truth is, you’re really sleepy, but not so much that you can’t hear him anymore or move on your own.

Jungkook gives up trying to wake you up, though, convinced by your acting. Soon, he goes over in front of you, reaching for your arms and placing them around his neck.

“Just put your legs around me, yeah?” He whispers against your hair once you’re glued against his back.

You hum, intending it to sound like a mumble so Jungkook thinks you don’t actually understand.

Jungkook fixes your legs around him, standing up, bouncing a little to get you nice and snug in his back. You smile at the prospect of a piggyback ride.

“I know you’re awake, silly,” He says suddenly, his voice painted with amusement.

You stifle your laughter against his neck, breaking your supposed to be convincing act.

“Race you to the car, Kook.” you whisper into his ear.

Jungkook scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything more until you reach his car. He wears your seatbelt for you, though, and tells you to drink more water from his tumbler.

You fall asleep easily mid-drive.

In the morning, you wake up with a banging headache, your eyes catching the sight of a post-it note on your desk with one tab of Advil.

morning/afternoon stinky i made porridge before i left for my shift just heat it up again when you wake up ps: your medical bill from my personal care will be discussed later when i get back home. no friends discount allowed — your angelic friend, kookie

You chuckle at the (annoyingly elaborate) sketch of an angry bunny on the side.

“Mingyu,” you call his attention. Mingyu turns to look at you. “This is a really nice place.”

He smiles at your remark. Mingyu moves his hand from your waist to your lower back as he leads you to the entrance door.

“I’m glad you think so. I’ve been wanting to bring you here for a while.”

When you both reach the door, Mingyu introduces himself to the butler. You let the two of them talk for a while, him confirming his reservation, your eyes roaming around the restaurant and taking in the classy interior.

“Please follow me, Mr. Kim and Ms. __,”

The butler gestures inside and you both follow behind him.

It’s another one of your date nights. While it isn’t unusual for you both to get fancy with dinners, you’ve gotten used to the casual dinners you’ve been having at his own place with take-outs and his impressive cooking.

But tonight is a little different. There’s a certain something in the air – especially when Mingyu especially asked you to dress a little more formally. He always has a suit on naturally with his line of work, but tonight he’s wearing a particularly shiny one. The tie is something you’ve never seen before, but maybe you just like to think that. You on the other hand settled for an indigo satin dress that hugs your figure like a glove and shows just enough skin. You’ve always thought you looked good in it.

And you think it’s perfect for when Mingyu asks something that will change the trajectory of your relationship for good.

Today marks the third month since you started seeing each other. You don’t know if he’s aware of it – but it’s been, indeed, whole three months. An monthsary some sort? Granted, there’s no official label to it, at least not yet. But with the fancy set-up and the way he cryptically replied to when you asked him what the whole thing was for tonight, you think he does know. And this is his idea of surprise.

Of course, you don’t let yourself get obsessed with the idea lest you end up with only mere assumptions.

“Thank you.” You both say to the butler as he leads you both to your table. He gives you the menu book and you take your sweet time to choose from the selection, giving the butler your orders after a few minutes.

When he leaves, Mingyu looks at you wearing his usual charming smile.

You don’t think you’ll ever tire of his face.

“This is really fancy,” You tell him, smiling.

“It’s sort of like special place,” Mingyu chuckles. “You know, Mr. Yang– the senior partner over at work– officially announced me as partner here.” He tells you, eyes looking into yours.

You feel your heart do a somersault at his gaze and the possibility of his words.

“Good steak?” You say, trying to act oblivious to the weight of his confession. You also don’t want to assume he’s saying what you think he’s saying…

“Yeah, yeah,” He nods his head, chuckling, then his laughter fades as he begins to look more serious when he continues, “So… it’s been three months since we started seeing each other.”

Your heart skips a bit when you listen to his words. You didn’t think what you were thinking earlier was true, but now that he’s brought it up, you deduce you might not be too far away.

“__,” Mingyu calls. You hum, leaning in closer to let him know you’re listening attentively. He gives you a coy smile, then his hand on the table moves over towards yours. You don’t fight your big smile off when he places it on top of yours, especially when you feel the warmth it radiates and how it looks like it could just easily enclose your own. “You said you wanted to take things slow, and I respect that. I just want you to know that this is – this thing between us – it’s serious for me.”

“I’m serious about us two.” You say immediately.

Mingyu chuckles, simpering when he looks at you again. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“So?” You ask, waiting.

“I want to be your boyfriend. If you let me.” Mingyu says, clear and firm. “It’s just… I’m happy with our dates. And I just love hanging out with you. But I think I’ll be even happier if we go out together as boyfriend and girlfriend – officially – from now on.”

You nibble on your bottom lip; couldn’t contain the big smile you’ve been fighting against since earlier.

You’ve been expecting the question ever since you got here, but you’re quite surprised for your assumptions to be right.

“Okay.” You say coolly.

Mingyu furrows his brow. “Okay– as in…?”

“Okay, as in, I wanna be your girlfriend.”

His lips part. “Are you… for real?” You nod your head repeatedly, stifling a giggle as Mingyu begins to smile so widely. “Fuck.”

“Hey,” you lightheartedly scold.

Mingyu nods his head, still smiling. “I’m sorry, I’m just—” he cuts himself off with a chuckle. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

“Yeah.” You chuckle.

“I wish I can kiss you right now.”

You feel your cheeks heat up as you look around. There are too many people. But the hopeless romantic in you tells you it’s okay.

“Why won’t you?” You challenge him, and Mingyu arches a brow at that.

He looks like he’s giving in, but then he shakes his head. With a smile that borders on flirtatious, he leans closer to you and whispers, “Later.”

Mingyu’s sweet promise at the restaurant ends up with you straddling his lap on the driver’s seat, your dress riding over your thighs and the thin straps falling off your shoulder.

"Fuck," Mingyu breathes in your ear, hands full of your ass while you continue to grind against the bulging crotch of his slacks.

You're not any better, panting on the crook of his neck as he encourages you to move on top of him. You feel the wet kisses he bestows across the column of your neck, moaning at the delicious friction from one particular thrust of his hips.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, in your defense. Your dinner ended on a really good note and Mingyu was just supposed to lean in for one sweet kiss once you were situated in his car.

But then you swiped your tongue over his lips and Mingyu threw away his gentlemanly act for the night, granting you back with a kiss that had more fervor in it. Forceful in a way that says he wants you.

And the feeling’s more than mutual.

His coat’s long gone now, stashed away on his back seat, and you’ve already undone the top three buttons of his dress shirt. Mingyu squeezes your boob over the thin material of your dress, prompting you to let out a low moan.

“Why—” Mingyu cuts himself off to kiss your lips one more time.

“Why don’t we go to your place?”

You don’t register his words the first time, too drunk from the sensation of his touch over your body.

“Yeah?” You mindlessly say, eyes shut as Mingyu peppers kisses to your jaw down to your neck once again.

“You’ve never invited me to your place.”

At that, your eyes open and you still on top of him.

“What?”

Mingyu looks up, and you’re about to be distracted by his messy hair and his swollen lips but then he says, “We’ve never gone to your place before.”

“Oh.”

He’s quick to gauge your reaction. Cupping your jaw, he plants a kiss to the side of your lips. “I’m not insisting if you don’t want to.”

“N-no, I want to,” is your immediate response. “It’s just…” you trail off, thinking about how to approach the subject.

Mingyu hums, waiting for your next words, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. It helps you regulate your nervousness at the sudden mention of your place.

“I have a roommate.”

There you let it out.

Somehow in the past three months you’ve been dating, you never mentioned that you’re living with Jungkook. The subject just never came up – until now, that is – and you didn’t really feel the need to tell him when he never asked in the first place.

But deep inside, you’re a bit hesitant to tell him about it. Sure, Jungkook’s his friend, and Mingyu did say they were close and knew each other well, so it shouldn’t be a problem for him that you’re residing with his close friend – but that’s exactly what makes the whole thing weird. It’s one thing as a woman to live with a man in one place, and it’s another if that man is a friend of your – well, now boyfriend.

And you know to yourself that you and Jungkook are purely platonic so there should be absolutely nothing to be worried about. It’s not even that you don’t trust Mingyu to understand – it’s just that it’s not as easy to tell him straight up. Not when you’re just starting a relationship right now with an official label to it – not when you’re finally in a serious relationship after four whole years of looking and waiting.

You don’t want to ruin it. Not right now.

“Oh, okay.” Mingyu nods at your confession, understanding. “Is it why…?”

You nod your head, already getting what he means. Licking your lips, you look anywhere but his eyes. Instead, you focus your gaze on the exposed upper part of his chest and let your fingers toy with his collar. Mingyu lets you.

“But… roommate’s away for the night.” You tell him. And it’s true. Jungkook told you he has a date tonight and that usually means he won’t be going home.

And you want Mingyu so bad it’s not even funny anymore.

That puts a smile on your boyfriend’s face.

“She is, huh?”

Your heart skips a bit, and you give him a smile you hope he doesn’t recognize as fake.

Somehow, you don’t bother to correct him even though Jungkook – your very roommate – is most definitely not a she.

“And here goes my bedroom,” You say as you open your door, letting Mingyu in. You’re not really worried about its state because thank god you cleaned up before leaving for your date tonight. Jungkook’s the cleaner one though, and that’s an advantage because he’s kind of obsessed with cleaning the whole apartment and not just his room when he has the time. It’s exactly why Mingyu pays you a compliment on the neatness of the place.

“Cute,” he muses, looking at the Sanrio plushies on your nightstand.

“Yeah.” You nod, feeling a little shy. Mingyu’s place is the definition of bachelor – his bedroom’s literally out of an Architectural Digest page. And while you’re proud of your Sanrio plushie collection – they’re your childhood gifts and you’ve collected them until college and they were expensive as hell – you can’t help but think that maybe you’re coming off as childish right now. You wish you could’ve hidden them or something…

You hope Mingyu doesn’t think too much about it.

“I like the room,” Mingyu says, looking at you who’s sitting on the edge of your bed. “It feels very… you.”

“Really?” You chuckle. “I mean, I’d hope so. I’ve been here for two years.”

Mingyu chuckles, following you to the bed. You feel the mattress sinking in when he sits beside you.

“I wanted to give you something at the restaurant earlier, but I kinda chickened out,” He says.

You arch your brow. “What is it?”

You watch as Mingyu takes something out of his pocket, your heart skipping a few beats when it turns out to be a jewelry box. Mingyu looks at you and smiles, hands slowly opening the velvet box, and your lips part when it reveals a dainty silver necklace with a small drop diamond pendant.

“Wow.” You utter, eyes blinking repeatedly, not knowing how to react.

“Well…?” Mingyu says, gauging your reaction.

“You’re giving that to me?” You ask in pure disbelief. He only nods. “That’s really– it’s really pretty.”

“I thought about you when I picked it up. It made sense.” He says smoothly, and you giggle at his words.

God, you like him so much.

“I honestly don’t know what to say,” You chuckle, cupping your face with your hands as if it could make the blood go away from your cheeks. “Thank you.”

“I’d love to wear it on you.” Mingyu smiles.

“Of course.”

He takes out the necklace from the box and asks you to turn around for a bit. You do so, helping him put your hair over one shoulder. You can feel him scooting closer to your back, his breathing on your nape, and the way he slowly caresses your shoulder first before his arms go around your neck to lock the necklace around your nape.

The cold of the material hits your skin, just on time when you feel Mingyu planting a kiss on your clavicle.

“It’s really pretty.” You say in awe, touching the pendant.

“Hm,” Mingyu continues to pepper your skin with small kisses. “You’re beautiful.” You turn to look at him, smiling. He mirrors that and cups your jaw to give you a peck on the lips. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You giggle when he squeezes your waist.

“Thank you.” you say in between your laughter. You hold his arms and stand up from the bed to place yourself in front of him. Mingyu looks up at you with one brow raised, but he’s quick to manspread when you begin to straddle his lap. As you situate yourself on top of him, you wrap your arms around his neck and let him run his hands across your body when you do so. “I really appreciate the necklace.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu whispers against your lips.

You hum, trailing your fingers down his collar then start to unbutton his shirt. When you get the few undone, you look Mingyu into his eyes and he meets your lips that crash into his in a few seconds.

You suppose it’s not exactly surprising that the kiss turns heated way too quickly. After all, you were both humping each other in his car earlier.

Sighing into the kiss, you tug at his hair, and it prompts his hands to squeeze your ass a little too tight. Mingyu breaks the kiss and there’s a barely noticeable string of saliva when your lips move away from each other. He trails kisses from your jaw down to the base of your neck, taking the straps of your dress down, hands beginning to rub your bare arms.

“So beautiful,” Mingyu sighs, lips travelling back to your own. He prods his tongue in your mouth that you gladly open for him. You let out a moan from the sensation of his tongue against yours, clutching his shoulders so hard you're sure you're gonna imprint your nails on his skin despite the shirt he still has on.

"Mingyu," you whisper, mouth ajar and gaping uselessly against his hair as his mouth leaves yours eventually to go down to your cleavage. His wandering fingers go around your back to fumble with the ribbons that are holding the dress, and you’re quick to help him tug it down completely until your chest is out for his full viewing.

Mingyu hisses at the lack of bra – except the nipple tapes – when the top of the dress comes off. He stops and stares, then takes a long and deep breath, as if the sight of your breasts intoxicated him; sighing as if he's long wished to see you like this.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're so hot." He cups the swell of your chest in his two large palms, fondling them as you continue rolling your pelvis against his straining crotch area. He grazes the silicon material covering your nipples, looks up at you as if to ask.

“Y-yeah,” you sigh out, knowing what he meant with the look.

Taking them off gently, Mingyu earns a moan from you, the sound getting a bit louder when he puts one of the two peaks in his mouth, and the sight is nothing short of erotic.

It elicits a sharp breath from you, hands flying to his soft and brunette locks. You almost feel bad thinking that you've been grabbing at them since earlier.

But you have more important things to mind than attending to Mingyu’s silky and healthy hair.

You seek for his lips which he gives you almost automatically when he notices you asking for it, the two of you meeting in a hungry kiss, your nails on one hand clawing at his back as you cup his jaw in the other. But his hands don't leave your breasts, palming them roughly but just right; squeezing so hard all the while tugging at your nipples.

For a moment, you take a halt, catching your breath and look at him with your hooded eyes. You kiss the corner of his mouth. "Take your shirt off."

He does as you say so, and you help him unbutton the entirety of his dress shirt to get the thing off him faster. Mingyu lets go of your boobs but quickly holds them as soon as his shirt is off. This time he flicks at both your nipples, and you can’t help but bite at his neck. The pleasure’s too much and you can feel yourself dripping down your thong, the sticky feeling of it making you squirm on his lap.

As if Mingyu has read your mind, he grips your waist and sets you down on the bed. He hovers over you, fingers idly exploring under the skirt of your dress until he finds the band of your panties.

You groan when you feel the cold brush of air on your bare thighs, suddenly feeling impatient. "Mingyu,"

“You want me to eat you out?” He whispers, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You almost cry at his question.

“Yes,”

Mingyu drags his fingers on your clothed core, groaning when he feels how soiled your thong is. "You're so fucking wet, sweetheart. Look at you," he sighs, hands leaving your pussy as he leans back and palms the strain of his pants. Your toes curl at the sight, uneven breaths puffing from your lips. "Look so sweet under me."  

And you're also a mess under him, writhing and completely getting lightheaded from his actions.

You let out a mewl when he pushes up the skirt of your dress to your hips, dragging down your underwear to your thighs.

Lifting your butt off the mattress, you help him get it off of you completely and you don't miss the way the flimsy thong sticks to your pussy before he takes it off you entirely. Mingyu seems to notice as well, judging from the way he hissed under his breath.

Your pussy is slick and sloppy, wet and dripping for him.

"So fucking pretty for me, god, I can’t believe I get to have you like this," he whispers against your throbbing heat, leaving a small kiss on your clit.

You arch your back when he uses his finger to run it through your slit, adding another one to spread your walls. Mingyu groans at the juices that stick to his digits.

As he adjusts himself on the mattress, hands gripping the back of your knees, you push them up until you're bended in almost half. You hold up your own legs, getting whiplashed when he licks a long, firm and deep stripe over you, making your eyes roll from the back of your head, breath hitching as you keep yourself steady in your own hold.

"Oh my god – Mingyu!–"

He starts slow, kissing around your labia, the tip of his tongue teasing your clit. Your head falls from the mountain of pillows under you, suddenly feeling frustrated.

"S-stop teasing me. Please, Mingyu,"

Ending your misery, he spreads your thighs, puckers his lips and dusts a few pecks over your bare heat and dives in for it seconds later with too much fervor. He savors every drop that oozes out from your hole, licking and lapping until you feel his tongue inside you. Mingyu could be spelling out his name for all it matters, but you really couldn't give a fuck.

"Oh, fuuuuck–" you groan, trying so hard to keep yourself steady. "S-so good,"

He hums in your pussy, and you don't help the way one of your legs drop to the mattress, the other one hooking on his shoulder. It makes you grab for his hair, pushing his head down and thrashing underneath his face.

It felt like minutes passed and you're almost crying by how good it all feels, his tongue doing wonders in the walls of your heat.

Soon, tears start to well in your eyes because of the pleasure, drawn out moans and heavy breaths filling the room. You couldn’t care less about the volume. Right now, you just want to cum.

"Your fingers, Mingyu,” You sigh out, and before you could even prepare yourself, he's inserting his middle finger inside you, pushing it in until it's knuckle-deep. "Oh god!"

“Yeah?”

He starts at an average pace until he adds another finger in your entrance, this time picking up his speed – and it makes you drip everywhere.

When he settles on scissoring his fingers inside you, moving at an abnormal pace that have you gasping under him, your body shake and your toes curl on the sheets. Mingyu swoops down to kiss your pussy again, two digits being repeatedly swallowed by your warm hole, slurping every juice that comes out of it. As he feels you tremble, the precedence of you nearing your climax, he takes his thumb to your clit.

"Oh, fuck, fuck," your pant, "I'm coming–fuck–“

Mingyu removes his fingers from you, exchanging them with his tongue instead and you cry out while he continues to rub your clit vigorously.

And when you arch your back higher this time, you spasm around his fingers, moaning uncontrollably.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it,” Mingyu whispers, pecking your heat a few more times to calm you down from your high. After a few moments, he removes your thigh from his shoulder, quickly coming up to kiss you on the mouth.

You taste yourself on his tongue but you couldn’t pay much attention to it when you feel his dick against your thigh. Closing your eyes, you let exhaustion wash over you.

Mingyu lets you stay still, and when you open your eyes again, you see him staring at you with a warm smile dancing across his lips. Your heart skips a beat, could no longer feel it but hear it instead, and you bite your lip, pushing his chest away slightly in an attempt to get on top of him.

“Let me suck your cock.” You say, but Mingyu shakes his head, firm on his place: on top of you.

“Let’s do that next time. Tonight, I have to fuck you well into the next day.”

And he does.

You didn't cum again – you usually don't from penetrative sex – and your first orgasm exhausted you way too much to let yourself go the second time. Mingyu didn't mind, telling you it was fine when you gave him an apology about it.

You wake up panicking at the thought that you’re going to be late for work.

Scrambling to sit on your bed, you take your alarm clock in your hands, letting out a dramatic “Thank god” when you see it read as 5:06am. Your alarm goes off at 5:30 as your weekday shift starts at seven.

Which means it’s still early. And you’re not going to be late for work like you feared.

You remember last night’s events though, and your eyes quickly go over to the other side of your bed.

Mingyu’s not in it – but it feels warm. An indication of the fact that he stayed the night over after what you did. You also deduced that he must’ve only gotten out a few minutes before you woke up.

Thinking he’s outside your room, you begin to stand up – groaning the way your thighs ache a bit as you do so. You’re only dressed in your panties and camisole, and you thought about going out in them – but then it made you feel a little weird. Okay, sure, Mingyu’s already seen everything there is to see – you had sex last night – but being naked in a non-sexual fashion in front of someone is kind of a little different, so you opt on putting on a pair of short shorts.

As you head towards your door, fingers ready to twist the knob, you’re surprised to see Mingyu meeting you halfway.

“Hey—”

“Why the hell is Jungkook here?”

Your smile drops and you look at him in confusion.

Mingyu wears an expression you’ve never seen him in before. He’s pissed. Eyebrows furrowed, gaze not soft like it usually is when it comes to you, and above all… his tone borders on accusatory.

“Why is he in the living room saying he’s your roommate?” Mingyu asks once again when you don’t say anything.

“I—” but you’re rendered speechless, frozen in your position. Your mouth moves but nothing comes out. Your brain is a jumble of thoughts and all you can think about is Mingyu seemingly getting mad at you.

“__?” A voice that’s absolutely familiar speaks up. You hear Jungkook’s steps getting closer to your door when he finally shows himself to you. “What’s Mingyu doing here? And why doesn’t he know we live together?”

Mingyu forces himself inside your bedroom and bumps into you a bit as he faces you with a venomous tone. “I’m going.” He declares, grabbing his shirt from your desk chair and putting on his belt.

“Mingyu, it’s not—”

“Save it, __.” He cuts you off before you can finish your sentence, hastily buttoning up his dress shirt.

Jungkook frowns and butts in. “Mingyu, let her talk. I told you earlier, we’re roommates—”

“Jeon,” You turn to look at him, almost spitting out his name. “Not now.”

You see Jungkook visibly recoiling at that. But you’re too concerned over Mingyu already on his way out the door, ready to leave.

“Mingyu, just hear me out.” You say, looking at him sincerely.

“I don’t wanna hear it. Not right now.” Mingyu tells you with a cold look paired with a cold tone. You deflate, taken aback at how nothing on his face screams like he cares about you. He glances at his watch. “I have to go to work.”

He heads towards your apartment door and you follow him there, hoping to change his mind about hearing you out.

“I know what you’re thinking right now, and it’s not that, Gyu.” You tell him once again, following him outside your unit.

Mingyu stands there for a while. Then, he sighs, putting his thumb over his temple. He heaves out a breath, looking into your eyes as he says, “I just don’t want to talk about it right now, okay? Let’s just… let things cool down for a bit.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “How do you mean?”

“I’m flying to Chicago this afternoon but I’ll be back in the evening. I’ll call you later after work.” He says, and now his face doesn’t look so devoid of emotions like how it was earlier.

But you worry about his words.

“You’re flying to another state.” You reiterate, just so you know you heard him right.

“It’s just for a few hours, sweetheart,” The petname soothes you a little but then he continues to add, “Look, I’m not sure of how I feel about… Jungkook being your roommate. You didn’t tell me about it– just imagine my surprise when I saw him after I went out of your room. It’s not a nice feeling to get lied to,” He says, and you feel an arrow shooting straight to your heart at that. You blink your eyes, feeling like there are tears forming on the sides. Mingyu seems to notice that as he steps closer to you and rubs your arm. “We’ll talk later, __. Just not now. Give me time to process this.”

You give him a weak smile.

Mingyu cups your cheek, and you lean towards his touch. Rubbing a thumb over your skin, he leans down to kiss your lips.

When he breaks away after a quick moment, he tells you, “Later, hm? I promise.” You nod. Mingyu gives you a smile. “And thank you for last night.”

That erases your worry. Not all, but some of it.

“Thank you too.”

“Alright, I’m going, okay?” Mingyu lets go of your face and you look at him as he turns around after you bid your goodbye.

You watch his retreating back in the hallway from your position, nibbling on your bottom lip trying to process the turn of events – and it’s only five fucking am still.

When you enter your apartment again, you see Jungkook sitting on the couch of your living room. And he looks just as pissed when your gaze falls to him.

“What the hell was that?” He welcomes you with.

“What the hell is this?” You point back at him. “You told me you weren’t coming home.”

“Yeah, but I have work – which we both go to at the same time, by the way. Apparently, you’re bringing boys now to this goddamn place.”

You do a double take at his tone.

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” You say, voicing starting to pick up volume. You feel irritation bubbling up inside you as Jungkook stands up from the couch and turns his back to you, ignoring your question as he heads to the direction of the kitchen.

“I said we’re both gonna be late for work.”

You follow his steps. “No, you said I’m “bringing boys here”, what do you mean by that?” You grab his arm and that’s effective enough to make him turn around and look at you. But he avoids eye contact. “Don’t turn your back to me when I’m talking to you, Jungkook.”

“I’m so sorry then, I’ll make sure to look into your eyes when I say every word that comes out of my mouth from now on.” He sarcastically says, and your annoyance grows.

“Watch your goddamn tone.”

Jungkook scoffs. “You’re the one to talk about watching tones when you literally just told me to shut up in front of your boyfriend?”

Your frown instantly. So you were right to think that moved him a little. But you tell him your confusion, “Where the hell did you get that? I didn’t tell you to shut up.”

“Yeah, you just told me “not now” like I’m a child trying to insert himself in mommy and daddy’s little argument. You might as well just have told me to shut the fuck up.”

The way he phrased your argument with Mingyu “little” rubs you off the wrong way.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” you sarcastically say. “Did getting told to shut up by a woman in front of another man hurt your big macho man ego?” 

“You’re making it about another thing.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, opening the refrigerator and taking out a loaf of bread.

“You think I forgot about your little “bringing boys here” comment?” You point out, but Jungkook decides now is the time to be an asshole and starts acting nonchalant instead, putting jam all over his bread. But you see the tick in his jaw, the tongue prodding against his mouth. He’s just as pissed as you are right now.

“And you sure as hell did. I don’t know what to tell you.”

You seethe. “Fuck you. I don’t bring “boys” here. Mingyu’s my boyfriend,” You say, and to be petty, you add, “As if you’ve never ever brought girls here before?”

Jungkook looks at you instantly. “Don’t you dare pin that on me. That was in the very first week that we lived together, mind you. But you told me how uncomfortable it made you feel and I thought about boundaries since then and never did it again. Why do you think I come over at their place instead of just hanging out here, huh, __? Even when we didn’t verbally agree on not having sex around this place, I thought it would be a goddamn principle. Heck,” He looks somewhere and scoffs, “Mingyu didn’t even know I’m your roommate. What did you tell him?”

You open your mouth to make a rebuttal, but nothing comes.

Because you realize in the middle of his outburst that… he’s right.

The first time that you saw a woman coming out of his own room and Jungkook noticing your discomfort about it, he just stopped doing his… thing in the apartment. It wasn’t a verbal agreement, as per his words, but he’s right. It should have been a principle.

In the past two years you lived with each other – that was the only time he ever did it. It became an unspoken rule: don’t bring your hook-ups here. But you never really had to worry about that unspoken rule because you didn’t do one-night-stands often, and when you did hook up with people over the past two years, it was rare so it was easy to do it in their place.

It has become a norm for you that you don’t see other people here anymore except for your friends when they invite themselves over – but you aren’t aware that Jungkook’s apparently making an active choice to specifically not hook up in here this whole time.

Coupled with the fact that you didn’t tell Mingyu about him being your roommate and him being caught up with your argument earlier – you feel a sense of guilt. A huge one at that.

But the stubborn part in you thinks that Mingyu’s different. He’s not a mere hook-up. He’s your boyfriend now! Couldn’t that be an exemption to the rule that’s unspoken in the first place?

“I…” you trail off, scolding yourself internally for not forming a coherent thought faster than you’d like.

When you don’t follow it up with anything, Jungkook takes his plate with him, turning on his heels away from you.

“See you at work.” He says, but it’s sarcastic and clipped.

Jungkook leaves one piece of bread for you though – just like he always does. And you take that as a sign that he’s not all that mad at you.

… Maybe?

You stand there in the middle of your kitchen island like some stupid stoned individual, going over the things that happened for the past – what – twenty minutes? You don’t even fucking know. Your wall clock in the living room had run out of battery, and your brain is too occupied with messy thoughts scattered all around you can feel a headache coming.

One thing’s for sure, though: you’re in the wrong. With Mingyu and with Jungkook. And you need to make it right somehow.

PART TWO | PART THREE

all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

[avenin]

I hate when I can feel my brain hyperfixating on something that will not benefit me in the slightest. Not a cute new hobby, no of course not!

Instead? MENTAL ILLNESSES

[purple-plum-petals]

Homicipher request for the Homicipher starved fans pls? 🥺 Is it okay to ask for the reactions of Mr. Silvair, Mr. Chopped(as he gets wheeled past us on a cart after being kidnapped, again), Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, and Mr. Scarletella with a reader who winks and blows a kiss as they pass by them? Like for some reason reader seems to be in a really good mood and they're skipping around with their trusty crowbar in hand then they see one of the boys then mwa~💋. I can imagine that they'd be confused at the unfamiliar gesture but I'd like to get your thoughts on it. 😂

⊱ Homicipher Characters’ Reactions to MC Winking at Them and Blowing Them a Kiss ⊰ || Multiple Character Headcanons

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Character(s): Mr. Silvair, Mr. Chopped, Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, and Mr. Scarletella (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (MC’s Lore), Brief Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (Mr. Machete’s Part), Canon-typical Horror Elements (Mr. Gap and Mr. Scarletella's Parts), Cultural Barriers (None of Them Understand the Gesture). Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Platonic or Romantic Relationship Word Count: ~1,880 Request: “Homicipher request for the Homicipher starved fans pls? 🥺 Is it okay to ask for the reactions of Mr. Silvair, Mr. Chopped(as he gets wheeled past us on a cart after being kidnapped, again), Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, and Mr. Scarletella with a reader who winks and blows a kiss as they pass by them? Like for some reason reader seems to be in a really good mood and they're skipping around with their trusty crowbar in hand then they see one of the boys then mwa~💋. I can imagine that they'd be confused at the unfamiliar gesture but I'd like to get your thoughts on it. 😂” Author’s Note: They all would definitely be confused by the unfamiliar gesture, so I kind of did headcanons about how each of them would react to you blowing them a kiss/how they would go about trying to understand what the gesture meant by using context clues (or just straight-up asking you about it haha). Sorry if they’re not great! I’m still trying to figure out how I want to balance the characters’ personalities as they are in canon while adding some more fun/whimsical aspects of your ask.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

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💉: He smiles softly at your cheerful demeanor, yet it falters slightly when you press the tips of your fingers to your lips and squeeze one of your eyes shut in response to him looking in your direction. You remove your fingers from your pursed lips and blow out a puff of air before continuing in the direction you had been walking towards. While he could infer you were in a good mood by your body language, he was curious to know what exactly the gesture meant. 

💉: Instead of lightly treading the question or observing you for any longer to see if he could figure out what the gesture meant by using context clues, Mr. Silvair instead just asks you directly to get an answer as soon as possible the next time he sees you. He deeply enjoyed research and observation, yes, but there was no need to wait to gather information when you were a perfect source of it. 

💉: Of course, it wasn’t easy to explain what “blowing a kiss” was, especially since they didn’t even have equivalent words in their language for “blow” or “kiss,” but you tried your best with what you had to work with. It’s almost funny how earnestly Mr. Silvair is hanging onto every word you speak. He chuckles after you finish explaining, amused by the gesture and its meaning – how quaint, he thinks to himself. 

💉: He found humans to be fascinating and their diverse cultures even more so, so he was of course interested in learning whatever you were able to recall from your previous life in your old realm before you ended up in this one. He treats everything you tell him with an air of respect, and he even documents what you share with him so he (and you) never forget that part of yourself. 

💉: Mr. Silvair finds the gesture to be an entertaining one, but deducts that it’s not usually one humans do with strangers or those they are not comfortable with from your explanation. Does that mean you are comfortable enough around him to express yourself in that manner? How fascinating... Do you care to tell him why you feel the way you do toward him? He’s very much interested in learning the reasoning behind your thought processes. 

🗣️: Mr. Chopped smiles so widely when he sees you in such a chipper mood, making your way down the hall with a noticeable spring in your step. He likes seeing you happy, so it makes him feel good, too, watching you skip by with such a bright expression on your face! Then, you press your hand to your lips and wink, blowing something he couldn’t see in his direction, and suddenly he’s confused. 

🗣️: Huh… well, that was strange. For some reason, though, the playful gesture seemed almost familiar, yet he couldn’t remember why. He can’t exactly chase after you and ask what that meant, so he’d have to wait until the next time he saw you (which he hoped wouldn't be a long wait – he liked spending time with you). 

🗣️: The next time he saw you, he asked if you could explain what the gesture meant. You did the best you could, but you’re pretty sure he comprehended what you were telling him if the giddy expression on his face was anything to go by. His excitement was quite adorable. However, his expression suddenly falls, and you watch him begin to sulk. How was he supposed to blow you a kiss in return? He didn’t have a body!! The poor man is so distraught. 

🗣️: He gets either Mr. Silvair to help him out or Mr. Hand to, well… give him a hand to enact his plan. The next time you see him, he calls out to you with such a delighted look on his face. So, you make your way over to him and kneel down to his level, watching as the sentient hand comes up to Mr. Chopped’s lips, making the same gesture you did, before he blows you a kiss and winks. He did it! He blew you a kiss!! 

🗣️: Mr. Chopped is very proud of himself and the pleased expression on his face is far too charming for you. He feels a warmth in his metaphorical chest knowing that you felt comfortable enough with him to blow him a kiss, especially since it seems like something humans do with those they are most comfortable with. 

🕳️: He’s honestly somewhat impressed you knew he was there, observing you through the small hole in the wall while you walk around like you’re on top of the world. He can’t help but wonder what happened that has you so chipper, but his thoughts are derailed a bit when you press your hand to your mouth and blow something at him, closing one of your eyes as you do so… What the hell was that?? 

🕳️: He feels somewhat offended, honestly, and gets that semi-disgusted look on his face before disappearing into the darkness. Mr. Gap understands it’s some kind of weird human gesture, but he can’t really put two-and-two together about what it means. Though, he finds himself continuing to watch you from any nook-and-cranny he could find, observing you to see if you would do the gesture again – you don’t.

🕳️: Mr. Gap ends up startling you while you’re walking down a long, grimy hallway, his hand darting out from a vent to grab your ankle. His grip isn’t tight, but it most certainly scares the life out of you and effectively catches your attention. He finds your scare amusing but ends up cutting straight to the point and asks you why you blew something at him. 

🕳️: Even after explaining what the gesture meant, Mr. Gap still doesn’t fully understand why you did it, so you just tell him it was supposed to be a nice gesture that showed you enjoyed him – playful. That is something he does understand, and it’s almost amusing how the smirk on his face grew. He must be special, he thinks, and his smugness is radiating from his face peeking out of the darkness. 

🕳️: Mr. Gap doesn’t do the gesture back, but he strangely enough finds himself hoping you don’t blow anyone else your kisses. He doesn’t know why the thought of you sharing the gesture with another annoys him a little bit – after all, it wouldn’t make it special anymore if you did it with everyone. He even begins bringing you things, like more crowbars or even pieces of candy he finds lying around. It’s almost like he’s trying to bribe you…

🔪: He sees you happily skipping around and finds himself having to do a double-take at the strange sight. It wasn’t a bad sight, not at all, it was just weird seeing you so bright and lively. However, his mind buffers a bit when you look at him, pursing your lips and giving him a wink before your fingertips press to your mouth and then flick towards him. 

🔪: Mr. Machete is immediately annoyed, not knowing what the gesture meant, and he assumes you were trying to pick a fight with him. So, he takes his large sword and reels it back, throwing it at you with a strength that still had your eyes boggling. You duck with a yelp as the sword implants itself into the wall behind you. 

🔪: He makes his way over to you with incredible speed, blocking your body between his and the wall as he looks down at you, his head tilted to the side as he asks you if you wanted to fight him. Mr. Machete finds your frustrated expression endearing as you tell him the gesture was meant to be playful and fun. He’s low-key kind of disappointed you didn’t want to fight, but he steps away from you after your explanation without another word. 

🔪: However, while looking down at your angry expression, Mr. Machete suddenly has the urge to squeeze you (I imagine he experiences cuteness aggression regarding you). So, he reaches down and squeezes your cheeks between his large and calloused hand, causing your lips to purse. Even though you hadn’t been in the mood to fight him, now you were. He smirks widely as you two begin to spar all because he misconstrued what your gesture meant. 

🔪: Mr. Machete doesn’t see the point of blowing kisses, and he doesn’t feel any particular way about the gesture. It’s kind of whatever for him, even though he does notice that you don’t seem to do it with anyone else. After the first time (that ended up leading to a spar), though, he notices you hadn’t blown him another kiss since… He ends up coming up to tell you in his gruff, almost rude way, that he wouldn’t mind if you did it again. 

🩸: He tilts his head to the side at the gesture, his shaggy red hair swaying with the movement. Well… that was new, he thinks. He liked you quite a bit (far more than just a bit, really… my man is kind of obsessed with you), and he had been following you throughout your entire journey in this realm, yet he had never once seen that expression or gesture from you before. Now, he was curious to know what it meant, and he was going to try and figure it out one way or another.  

🩸: He continues to keep his eye on you, following you as you go about your day. Mr. Scarletella likes seeing you so chipper and full of life, especially considering you were someone who tended to take life from others. The dichotomy between your behavior and actions had his heart racing. However, despite what he expected, you never did the gesture again. So, he couldn’t gather information by observing you – he would need to simply ask you directly, then. 

🩸: Mr. Scarletella effectively manages to corner you after some time, catching you completely off-guard. While you two had certainly started off on the wrong foot, you had gotten to the point where you were relatively calm and comfortable around the strange man who was so incredibly down bad for you. He gazes down at you with his lifeless eyes, inquiring about the gesture you made earlier. 

🩸: You explain to him what the gesture meant for you, that you were simply in a good mood and felt a little bit playful at the moment when you blew him a kiss. Mr. Scarletella smiles at your words, feeling very pleased with the information. So, it meant you liked him, correct? It meant you felt comfortable enough to express your happiness towards him in such a way, right?

🩸: Well, you inadvertently ended up making him even more obsessed with you, and now his feelings become even stronger every time you blow him a kiss. Mr. Scarletella finds the act an interesting way to express your interest and enjoyment of another being, so he begins to blow you his own kisses in return. He is one of the characters I feel would want to learn more about human customs to deepen his relationship with you even if he doesn’t fully grasp why some gestures mean certain things. 

[undermine-the-instinct]

NEW FAV AUTHOR INCOMING

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Your wedding is a beautiful event.

Everything is arranged just so. Although it’s a small affair, only your own family joining you, it’s a grand event. You suppose that if your father has the money to spend he can do as he pleases. You don’t feel like you’re being held prisoner, or forced, but there isn’t much you have a say in about all of this.

You decide on smaller things. Carefully selecting the flowers that line the ceremony room. The scent of incense floats through the air. Natural, slightly muskier smells complement the florals. The candlelight bathes the room in softer yellow shades. It does little to battle the cold outside, though your heavy layers of cloth do well to warm your skin.

The robe, and accompanying headdress, are made from piles and piles of silk. They are hand-painted with soft pink camellias, outlined with a subtle silver. The pale colors melt perfectly into the rest of the white fabric. Your tsunokakushi accompanies it, made in the same expensive silk. The white stays perfect and pure, though fresh flowers are helping to accent it. The uniform weighs you down and helps to keep you from squirming. Nerves would get to anyone on a day like this.

Your husband is beautiful as everything else.

His raven hair is combed back, bangs brushed out from his face. The color blends in perfectly with the dark kimono. All the black points your focus towards his pale face and crystal blue eyes. They stare forward at the priest and paintings behind the altar.

He is a complete stranger to you.

Though you’ve only met the man once there’s a strange lack of apprehension. The first meeting didn’t even count, not really. It was negotiations and talks of money while you bowed timidly in the corner.

Despite the lack of any sort of acknowledgment you have some admiration for him. Silent and solitary he carries a sense of dignity. Knowing his occupation only makes your heart grows fonder.

The first time you touch him is as you exchange saki cups. His fingers barely brush against yours as the cups get passed over. The tiny touch sends electricity racing up your arm. Eyes softly evade your own piercing look.

Warmth makes its way down your throat with each sip. The alcohol isn’t enough to do anything more than heat your blood, but it’s a welcome feeling. Glancing over at Tomioka you admire his reddened cheeks. The thought of his lips touching the same cup that yours now linger on is embarrassing.

You wonder if the same feelings pass through the man as you drink from the second cup first.

Once more the cycle goes around. Giyuu drinks from the cup, his fingers brush yours, and you linger on the taste of his lips.

As each cup is whisked away you grow more and more nervous. The ceremony rushes by before your eyes. On the table, alongside other offerings, lie your wedding rings. They’re simple woven bands, a subtle golden white.

Giyuu’s mouth opens to recite his vows. His flat and quiet voice is soothing. The words disappear in your mind the moment they’re spoken. You don’t mind that the vows are simple and standard, inspired instead by the music of his tone. He never hesitates as he speaks the pages of words all tucked inside his mind.

The rest of the ceremony holds the same kind of quiet reverence.

Everyone performs their duty exactly as instructed. It passes by quickly without you even noticing. Offerings are brought forward, rings are exchanged. Your head is filled with rushing blood. As you’re shuffled the world around you warps and rushes.

Within a few moments, you have become a married woman.

A thin band sits on your finger. You can hardly remember the hand sliding the ring onto yours. The feeling grows until it nearly bursts your heart open. It’s a combination of joy and apprehension and a million other things that race through your mind.

There is not a single moment for you to rest. Even though there is no celebration afterward, you don’t get time to focus on anything that’s happening. Once you have completed all pieces of tradition, sent offers, and exchanged every bit of your life, you are whisked away to change. The excitement of all the women around leaves no room for a proper conversation. The dress you’re pulled into is simple, less intricate though just as elegant. It’s a softer blue, a strange combination of modern and traditional styles. Finally, you have graduated to shorter sleeves that don’t weigh down your arms quite as much.

Your hair is still done up in an awful complicated mess. Pins don’t quite stab your skull, but they come close. Later tonight you’ll have to spend hours undoing every decoration on your head and skin.

There is little to keep you distracted now. The tender hands of your mother and sisters continue to run over the fabric of your dress. It stands a few inches above the floor, unlike your wedding kimono which had to be carried. There is little they can do now too.

Outside the engine of a car roars to life. Your father should have loaded most of your luggage by now. Most of it is frivolous material possessions, clothes, trinkets, and anything else deemed important enough to carry into your next life.

Your husband is already seated. He does not glance at you as you exit your home.

The goodbyes are short. Your family already spent much of last night saying everything that could be said. There’s little to do now except hug and be sent off.

You climb into the seat beside Tomioka. He does not greet you. Hesitance floods through you for a moment, but in the end, you make no effort either. His silence is unsurprising.

In fact, the ride home is silent, as equally expected. A thousand questions are racing through your mind. Despite the excitement buzzing underneath your skin your lips stay sealed shut.

Holding your hands in your lap you force yourself to gaze out the window. It’s not your first time inside an automobile, but you find it fascinating how fast the scenery moves by.

Tomioka does not hold the same kind of interest. His eyes burn holes into the headrest in front of him. The stiffness he sits with is nearly funny. The man’s spine is perfectly straight, hands folded in front of him. If he notices your eyes occasionally flicker over to trace his face, he doesn’t say anything about it.

The driver in the front remains quiet too. He’s some friend of a friend of your father’s. Which makes him a complete stranger to you. You’re still glad for the company. You haven’t been alone with a man, only boys when you were small enough to not understand the importance of anything.

It occurs to you that you’ll have to get used to it. There’s a myriad of new experiences that you’ll face within such a short period of time. You don’t know whether to be excited or terrified.

—-

The car ride passes much too quickly. Although Tomioka’s estate is a good ways away from your smaller town, the car travels over the terrain with ease. Even as you pass through rural areas and up the large winding path to his home the machine never stutters in its ascent.

Just before you disappear into the small grove of trees, you pass a small town. Several of the residents look up into the car as you go by. One small child waves to you. Though you can’t particularly focus on anything, you try to map out the businesses and homes you see. Within the blink of an eye, you’re carried into the forest, eyes shielded from the town.

The last stretch of the journey is as grand as the house itself. A long pathway leads up to the gate, lined with stones and tall skinny trees. As you grow closer the flora only grows more spectacular. Bamboo begins to rise to accompany the rest of the scenery. It shoots up and stretches backward until you can’t see where it ends.

The gate hangs open, showing off a glimpse of the estate. It’s several floors tall, balconies coming off the side. The building leads perfectly into the stone garden, intertwined with a small river. Everything is grand and perfectly groomed. It looks like something out of a photograph rather than somewhere a human could live.

The car stops just beyond the front door. You remain immobile even as the engine shuts off. Without the rumbling of the automobile, it is completely silent. It’s engulfing. Every rustle of your clothes and shift against the seats is loud.

“I can take your bags inside.” It’s the first thing Giyuu has said to you, directly to you, all day.

Your lips grow suddenly dry. No response can be mustered other than a quick nod of your head. Internally you curse yourself.

Leaping down from the car you feel the stones move beneath your feet. With only a small second of delay, you make your way to the entrance.

The door would slide open easily. Your hands rest against the thick wood. Looking back Giyuu is still unloading your luggage from the trunk. Despite the size and volume of the bags, he manages to balance everything within his arms. Hoping to be at least somewhat helpful you decide to slide the door open.

Holding yourself off to the side you let the man pass you. His eyes still don’t stray even close to your face. Looking straight ahead he slows his pace slightly, just until you perk up and follow behind him.

Giyuu is still dressed in the dark and elegant groom’s kimono. The wide legs and arms obscure his true figure. You had seen a glimpse of it during your first meeting, less hidden underneath the form-fitting demon slayer’s uniform. His broad shoulders stretched the sleeves of the shirt, visible even below his unique haori.

Suddenly it occurs to you what most couples do on their wedding night. Almost dizzy you brush the thought from your mind. The idea of his muscular body is as enticing as it is terrifying. Those kinds of ideas should be saved for when you’re absolutely alone and can’t be caught in your shame.

Tomioka opens the door to (presumably) your bedroom with such force that you nearly scamper backward. If he was surprised by the clanging of the door he shows no visible reaction.

Looking around the space it’s… empty.

There’s a bed in the corner, covered in plain gray sheets. It’s accompanied by an equally boring nightstand and matching dresser made from dark wood. They’re perfectly square with perfectly round handles.

Everything is completely devoid of personality. You had noticed the blank hallways only accented with an occasional floral arrangement but assumed such a personal place would not carry the same stale feeling. This looks like the kind of place only a psychopath could live.

“This’ll be your room. It’s rather empty now, but you’re free to do what you’d like with the space.”

Again you can only nod.

He only stays for a mere moment to stack your luggage neatly in the corner. Without a word of goodbye, he disappears around the corner. The man only acknowledges you with a dip of his head. You have the feeling that this time you aren’t meant to follow him. You close the door slowly, silently, as he makes his exit.

Down the hallway, you hear another door open and shut. It feels like the period at the end of a sentence. The action effectively marks the end of your wedding day. The large window in the center of his room shows you the dark moon rising.

Though the thick layers of makeup on your face feel like they're melting and the kimono you wear is slightly too tight, you make no action to undo anything. You move carefully, making your way to the bed instead.

It’s almost frigid when you sit on it. The mattress is stiff beneath you, a clear lack of use. There’s a nightstand to your right. The drawers you check are all empty. When you move off the bed, it’s chill clinging to you, you check the dresser drawers as well. Those are empty too, it’s clear the place has not belonged to anyone else.

Following the outline of the your bedroom you find nothing other than plain white walls and dark trim. There’s a door that connects to a bathroom. In theory, it’s as grand as your bedroom, in the fact that it’s wide and spacious. The tub is large enough for a few people, sunken into the floor, and surrounded by stone. Snooping around the cabinets you find basic amenities and not much else.

As you fiddle with the faucet it sputters before spewing forth scalding water. You’re hand turns an angry red for a minute until the temperature shifts to something bearable. Watching water cover the pebbled bottom you sigh and turn back to your room.

Opening your luggage you sort through the piles of clothes until you find a soft cotton robe. You unbutton your dress slowly. In some way, you wish you could’ve been putting on a show for someone. Underneath your kimono, you wear a sinful chiffon slip. It’s hidden below several other layers of fabric, that you slowly reveal with no one to see.

The light pink fabric casts a light shadow over your breasts. Along the edges, it’s patterned with frills and ribbons. The slip was one last gift from your mother, opened only in the privacy of your own room. Stripped down almost bare you can feel the air tickle your skin.

Making your way back to the bathroom you remain in the gentle slip. As water crashes down to continually fill the tub, steam rises to warm your chilly skin. Though the small set is beautiful, it does little to keep heat in.

The only other article of clothing remaining is your thin socks. Slipping them off you test the water again, perfectly heated. Soon after the translucent slip disappears too. You’ll banish it to the back of your drawers soon after, no reason to try it on again.

Sinking into the tub you rub at your face first. White and red and pink mix with the water. As heat and steam engulf you, you keep rubbing until your skin feels raw. You pull pins from your hair after you’ve effectively taken off a few layers of skin from your face. They scrape over the fragile top of your head, hair coming undone in tendrils. There’s an awful throbbing behind your temples, blood rushing to the tender spots on your scalp. You can hardly touch the area without wincing in pain. It’s hard to decide whether putting on the ensemble or taking it off was more painful.

You soak until the water is barely warm and your fingers are wrinkled. The soft floral scents of whatever soap was under the cabinet have soothed you somewhat. Tears, from physical pain or emotional, have fed the bath and let its line grow up to your chin. It weighs down heavily on your chest until you push yourself out from the water and take a clean breath.

The shock of cool air is awful on your way out. It strips you of everything again, shivering as you stalk back to your luggage.

You pull on a heavier robe, something to protect your wet and naked body It’s mostly plain, only accented with patterned edges. You had a softer and prettier one right on top of everything. Seeing as you’ll be bedding alone tonight you choose what’s more comfortable. You haven’t heard a single noise from anyone since you were essentially dumped into your room.

The bed is still cold. It’s a Western-style frame, lifted up from the ground and leaving you aloft. Springs seem to pierce into you from below.

As you drag yourself into bed alone you finally feel something familiar. It creeps in during the quiet night when everything is perfectly still. You’re not quite alert, but nowhere near sleep either. No matter how much you try, your eyes can’t close. They stare across the bed towards the wall, an empty side waiting to be filled.

Lying on your side it squeezes wetness from your eye. It’s not tears, but feeling the water trace your cheeks, inspires real sadness in their wake. Stubborn, you refuse to curl up into the sorrow. With a stone face, you let the pillow soak up the tears. They haven’t dried by the time you finally fall asleep.

—-

In the morning you feel no grogginess. There are no clocks within the room, but the outside window tells you that it’s later in the day. You move quicker than last night, putting on a much simpler kimono, barely messing with your hair. You still bother with makeup, making sure you look at least somewhat proper.

It’s quiet as you peer out into the hallway. With no lights on it’s painted in a dusty blue hue. There’s only a sliver of light coming from the window, which fails to illuminate the edges of the walls. There’s a light switch towards the end of the wall, which you creep out to flip on.

The hum of electricity sparks to life a row of lights. They produce a warm golden glow that inspires you to wake up further. Looking down the hall you assume one of the doors towards the end belongs to Tomioka’s room. All the spaces look the same.

Turning away you trace your way back through the route Giyuu had taken you down the way before. As you walk nearly silently you keep your ears out for the sound of another human.

Yesterday’s tour, if it could be called that, only covered the most basic of rooms. Dragging your hand against the wall you trace your way to the kitchen.

Going through the cabinets you find a pitiful amount of food. It’s mostly dried materials, beans, and rice, alongside a few fresh vegetables that already look slightly wilted. The sight isn’t completely unappetizing on its own, but coupled with the empty feeling in your stomach you wish you had something already done. You start some oats right away and chew some dry carrots in the meantime. They do nothing to fill you.

Almost immediately you’re already visualizing a list of things to buy. More veggies, fresh fruit, and probably a treat or two to try and satisfy your insatiable sweet tooth. Thinking about food only serves to make you hungrier, for now, you try and distract yourself with thoughts of anything else.

Listening quietly you hear nothing besides the sizzling of the porridge. There’s no creaking of wood down the hall. As hard as you try you can’t sense the presence of any other person. The idea that Giyuu has already left the house seems unlikely, but it also seems that you don’t know much about his habits at all.

Still, the silence remains throughout breakfast. The porridge is bland despite the brown sugar and cinnamon you’ve mixed in. Fresh fruit is definitely at the top of your list. The paste moves down your throat at a slow pace.

You barely finish a few bites of the meal before brushing it off to the side. Your stomach is still empty, but you can’t bring yourself to eat anymore. Though you should force yourself to eat more, something substantial, you can barely push the food around in the bowl.

Instead, you stumble around the house trying to find anything. Each room is blank and empty, and that’s without even traveling upstairs. It’s not anything different than what you saw yesterday, white walls and dark wood and nothing else.

You don’t bother with looking around more, expecting to find most of the same. Instead, you wander back toward the direction of your room. There’s not much waiting for you there, but you can at least busy yourself with unpacking.

You find a note stuck to the door when you make your way toward it. If it was there before you must’ve missed it.

‘Gone on a mission, will be back.’

And you suppose that’s that.

—-

He’s gone for long stretches of time. Though nothing is ever explained to you, some things become clear through observation. A paycheck comes every few days, you assume whenever he’s finished slaying whatever creature he’s been sent after. Tomioka arrives home only once a month at most, usually after long stretches of silence. If you’re lucky his crow will be sent ahead to announce his presence.

The bird ends up being a better companion than his owner in many ways. The crow, Kanzaburou, is old. He’s senile in the way an old man is, sweet and a bit air-headed. In many ways, he has more personality than your husband.

None of that changes the fact that you spend most days alone. Every single one since the first seem both eternal and yet much too quick. With little to keep you busy once things are put into place, you feel as if you’re going insane. Cleaning only takes up so much time, and there is little you can dirty on your own. The two or so dishes you use in a day take a week to fill up the sink. There’s no point in changing, not most days, but even then your laundry doesn’t fill up often. Sometimes you purposefully spill something just to have an actual purpose to your scrubbing.

Nothing changes when Giyuu comes home, not the first time or second or third. He hides inside his room. The only sign he even exists is the food that disappears from the freezer and cabinets. You always make extra meals, things with real substance, and those disappear too. Whether he actually enjoys your cooking is a complete mystery.

At first, you try to remain in common areas, with the small hope that he’ll stumble across you. You save most of your cleaning for the time he is home, simply for appearing useful. Standing outside to hang up sheets or sitting in the living room to rearrange the florals could entice him out.

Within the first few months, you give up.

If Giyuu does ever stumble upon you he’s quick to mumble an excuse and exit. Every time you feel scorned and scolded, despite the man’s gentle nature. You resign to hiding within your room. Despite your attempts to bring some color into the area it still feels rather depressing in there.

For a long time, you coexist in that quiet sort of way. You hate it more than if he just admitted to despising you, or didn’t come home at all. It’s the barest hope that something will change, keeping you strung along and nearly begging that he’ll even talk to you one day.

Not even the small town can comfort your lonely soul. Most of the typical shop owners and citizens seem wary of your presence. They conduct business and make small talk, but do almost nothing else. Your shyness engulfs you before you can even consider reaching out for company.

The weeks pass in a bit of a blur. The only contact you get is from Giyuu’s crow. He comes unpredictably, and yet somehow remains a single constant within your life besides the loneliness. You look forward to the sound of his slightly too screechy calls more than you do the paycheck he brings.

Most of the money stays put anyways. It’s more than you could ever know what to do with. Even after spending an extravagant amount, you have piles of it left. The things you do spend it on go towards brightening up your home. Collecting anything that captures your eye has become a common practice. Tapestries and paintings and all kinds of knickknacks cover the walls of your home. You buy things in bright colors to contrast the pale walls and dark ceilings. Your room is the worst case of this, crammed completely full of anything remotely beautiful.

If Tomioka dislikes the changes he again says nothing. If you hadn’t heard him speak wedding vows you’d be convinced the man was mute. Almost nothing else gives away his emotions either. No longer above spying, you try to peek and see any sort of twitch in his features. On occasion, he’ll pause his trek down the hallway and gaze at a new addition to the area. Despite this, you can’t tell if his blank eyes express any kind of adoration or distaste.

Your mental state is much more apparent. Tears become a common companion. They creep up suddenly when you’re cooking or leaving the town or just trying to sleep. It’s annoying more than anything. You’re already painfully aware of the fact that you’re not particularly happy. A reminder does nothing for you.

It gets worse when Giyuu is home. You can’t help the way your sobs increase in volume when his shadow moves over your door. Sometimes you swear he lingers there.

After that, you try to rebel, or at least do something interesting enough to spice up your days. Sometimes you’ll buy hideous decor, clashing curtains that sit in the living room, or twisted vases. You even start venturing into Giyuu’s room.

It’s the one place you haven’t entered. As you push the door open you’re surprised by how crowded the room is. The walls are still relatively blank, but they don’t feel empty. There’s a desk in the corner, it’s covered in papers that you at least have the sense to let be. On the opposite side of the room sits a bookshelf, though the stories that lie in there seem almost random. There’s an assortment of genres, action and romance and tragedies, and an assortment of styles. There are a few books even written in English, alongside one in what you think is Mandarin, though that one looks untouched. Occasionally you’ll steal one for a night or two. Most of the stories are in good condition. When you stumble across a dog-eared page or wrinkled edge you’re pleased by the touch of humanity. Still, when you tear through each book you’re left much in the same position by the end.

His closet is full of mostly extra uniforms. There are a few casual clothes, mostly in dark blues. He seems partial to the color, though the haori he wears constantly is a shocking red. In the corner, his groom's outfit has been carefully folded and stored. You suppose there’s no reason he’d need to hang it, having fulfilled its use.

There’s not much else there. Tomioka uses a futon, that sits folded up in the corner. Your room came with a Western-style bed, and you don’t care enough to push it out somewhere and replace it. His is a simple black, with no pattern other than the small grid made from the stitches.

One night you sleep on it. The mattress in your room is slightly too soft, you prefer the firm feel of sleeping over tatami flooring. With your face surrounded by fabric, you catch the scent woven within it. It’s musky and a little salty but in a pleasant way. The smell is outdoorsy, not dirty, but rather a natural tone. Underneath all of that is the scent of wisteria. All of it wound together is rather pleasant. You feel slightly less alone, being surrounded by the warm fabric that’s different enough to be new without sacrificing the comfort of its familiarity.

It becomes a habit.

You creep into his room once a week or so to cuddle in the space. Often you enter with some excuse, to dust his shelves or pick out a new book or leave any trace of your presence. Shambling around for a bit and doing much of nothing you wait until the sun rests on the horizon.

Once you notice, you pull out the futon. It doesn’t carry the same scent the third or fourth time you tuck into the sheets, but it’s still warmer than your bed. You stick your face into the pillows to try and let the smell linger.

You’re terrified of him coming home to you sleeping in that bed. It’s not the thought of him getting angry, but the embarrassment of it all. You feel like a child sneaking into her mother’s room rather than a proper wife. The feeling is mostly constant, only ebbing away as you sleep.

—-

You’re surprised that life can be this stagnant. Wallowing in your sorrow doesn’t do much other than dig a deeper hole.

There is some quiet joy to be found. Beyond the house, there are calm gardens. When the sun is out and the wind isn’t strong you find more comfort outside than trapped within the walls.

Living so far away from everything has one advantage. Not only do you have acres of sprawling forest to explore, but it tends to attract all kinds of wildlife. The chatter of birds sounds human enough to keep you company. If you’re lucky they’ll come so close you can feel the beat of their wings.

As the weather slowly gets warmer your mood lifts as well. You turn your thoughts away from your husband's absence, the loneliness slowly easing its touch on you. There are still sudden pangs of regret when you get a coin bag with no letter, or the sound of his footsteps passing you, but the days without him aren’t so unbearable.

The habit of you sleeping in his bed isn’t broken, if anything you start to spend nearly every night there. There’s a certain pattern to when he comes home, usually a week or so after his crow gifts you his paycheck. It’s a gamble if he’ll return or simply be set off on another mission, but either way, you learn to hide away in your own room.

You’re careful to leave his room mostly alone. Though you dust the few shelves and scrub the floors you strive to make your presence there unnoticed. It appears to be working, but again you’re mostly left in the dark about his thoughts.

The town remains just as wary, though more used to your presence. A few of the shopkeepers who you visit often enough smile as you sort through the wares.

Routine builds a softer kind of comfort, one that doesn’t brush away any of the other sorrows, but mutes the noise of them somewhat.

—-

And just as you settle an abrupt change knocks you off your feet. Tomioka coming home isn’t a particularly new development. You’re in the middle of preparing dinner, barely looking over as he passes by the doorway. You don’t even move until he’s out of sight, moving to peek at his back beyond the door.

As you approach you notice the spattering of blood sinking into the tatami. Looking upwards you notice his shamble of a walk. His uniform is missing a sleeve, arm wrapped sloppily with bandages. Blood has soaked through as it's slipping down his hand, leaving a trail behind.

If he hears your loud gasp he doesn’t signify it in any way. Instead, the man wanders towards his room while you retreat back into the kitchen. You stare at the pot of curry sizzling over the stove. You can’t focus on the food, although the smell of it is incredibly enticing. With shaky hands you attempt to stir the meal, even raising a spoon to taste it. You hope the spice will entice you more and attract your attention, but the combination of meat and curry powder is a beautiful deep red color that looks a little too much like blood.

Eventually, you have to force yourself away, your stomach twisting in knots. Still striving to be useful, even after months of being ignored, you instead fill a bowl with cold water and grab some washcloths. You move far too slowly, held back by hesitance. There’s a clear line of red that points you toward his room. It pulls you forward slowly. In the back of your mind, you mourn the freshly cleaned flooring.

Without knocking, slight fear in the response you’ll get, you nudge the door to the side. Barely peeking through you spot him laying in the corner of the room. He hasn’t unfolded the futon, rather leaning against the block of fabric.

As you move in slowly his eyes flicker toward you. Even from his far position in the corner, you can hear his labored breathing. Holding back a whimper at the sight of blood you approach the man more like you would a wounded animal.

Absolute silence engulfs the room, even as you sit beside him. You’re worried that you won’t be able to speak at all, throat sealed shut from misuse. Words bubble up until they finally loosen the cement keeping your lips closed.

“Can I help?”

The words are deviously simple, quiet, and barely audible. Despite the dry whisper that struggles out from out, the noise seems to take over everything else. The only other thing you hear is your heartbeat within your ears.

Giyuu seems to consider your question earnestly. As he shifts you can see the way his brows knit together, drawing closer whenever his arms shifts. “I admit that bandaging the wound was much more difficult with only one hand.” It’s not exactly a direct answer, but the way his body relaxes slightly seems to indicate a yes.

You still move a little too slowly. Watching the ground you’re careful to not let the water spill, while also trying to stop yourself from staring too hard at the crimson staining. Your sleeves are already pulled back, hands dipping into the bowl of water to grab the towel within it.

The warmth calms your nerves only slightly. It emboldens you to find the edge of the bandages and unwind. You’re surprisingly unbothered by the sight underneath, a mass of blood and flesh that is mostly unrecognizable.

The wounds are long stripes that wind down his arm. They don’t seem to be particularly deep, or even wide, but there’s a myriad of them stretching down the limb. Some of the smallest ones have already clotted. The largest are still spewing out red.

“You should get stitches for these.” It’s amazing that he even walked home in this condition. You’re not very aware of the inner workings of the demon slayer corps. Some knowledge was granted to you by your father, other things overheard in conversation. At the very least you know that they are prepared to treat injuries.

Despite your light chastisement (which receives no response) you still pull the soft cloth from the water. Fresh blood oozes out as you rub away the dirt and slightly crusted scabs. The sight gets worse to look at when it’s not hidden behind gauze.

There’s absolute silence taking over again. You’re too nervous to look up and possibly meet his eyes, instead focusing solely on his arm. Though you’re no professional you manage to wipe off most of the blood. It’s slowed down to a weak dribble, that stops when you put a slight amount of pressure on it.

You’ve piled the old bandages off to the side. They don’t look very old, but considering the state they’re in, you’re not very inclined to reuse them.

“There’s more in the bathroom.” Tomioka gestures off to the side. “2nd cabinet below the sink.”

You trot off with your head low. It's tempting to snoop, already having indulged in the bad habit plenty. Brushing the thought away, you dig through the medical supplies until you can find the roll of bandage.

He hasn’t moved a single inch in the quick minutes you’ve been gone. Tomioka’s eyes again look anywhere that isn’t where you are. Even as you hold his arm and feel the warmth of blood rushing through it, he acts more like a doll than anything.

You work slowly. Though you don’t have much experience, wrapping the gauze around his arm isn’t too difficult. At the very least it’s leagues better than the sloppy job he did himself.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Internally you’re begging for a reason to linger. His skin is still hot against your fingers. The pale skin is deceptive, giving him a cool appearance. Your eyes are tracing his hands, imagining them pressed against your own.

As your sight flickers towards his other side, you notice the fabric balled up in his fist. It’s the two-toned haori you normally see the man wearing. You hadn’t noticed its absence earlier.

He still hasn’t answered. You dare to prompt him a second time. “Or I could clean that for you.” You’re surprised that the man chooses this moment to look directly at you. For once you can read the emotion on his face, see the surprise in his blue eyes.

“It’s fine.” His voice sounds a little dry. “I’m sure the fabric is ruined.”

It’s easy to keep talking, now that you’ve dared to open your lips. “Oh, I’m sure I can fix it! If it’s blood you’re worried about then that’s no problem.” The tone you chose is perhaps too cheerful, but you feel a bit excited and the prospect of being truly helpful.

Tomioka’s fist loosens slightly. “I’m sure it’ll be a struggle, but there’s not much that could make it worst at least.” He’s not very encouraging, which you try to not let dampen your mood.

As you pull it from his grasp you can already tell the fabric is in tatters. The soft maroon sleeve has turned into strings of fabric dyed burgundy from blood. Some parts are crusted together, other pieces are barely attached by a thread. You certainly have your work cut out for you.

With one last smile, you carefully fold the haori and leave his room.

—-

You still can’t tell if you like the change or not. Tomioka still seems set on seeing you as little as possible. You bring him dinner and on occasion rewrap his bandages, but other than that he likes to hole up in his room.

His haori keeps you busy most of the time. It takes 3 washes just to get the blood out, carefully peeling the red free from the thin threads. As you wash you ultimately decide to chop off some of the strings that barely cling on. Anything thinner than the width of your finger gets discarded, a pile to find its place somewhere else.

Weaving the salvageable pieces back together is a near-impossible task. Trying your best to make the seams invisible you carefully line up each thread. Staring so intensely at the woven pattern makes your eyes water. It’s hard work to make sure the needle punctures exactly where it needs to so the flow remains. Several times you puncture the skin on your fingers. It’s never deep enough to pull blood out, but it turns your skin a bright throbbing red.

Even with the careful work only about a fourth of the sleeve can be salvaged. It’s a pitiful sight, strings hanging from the short shoulder. Days of work and sore thumbs have amounted to only a few inches of fabric.

You try to color-match the piece so you can fix the rest. It’s a difficult color, softened with years of use and age. Even when you bring the hoari along with you all the colors you find are too bright.

It’s twice as expensive to get something custom dyed, but you don’t have the expertise to do it yourself. You certainly have the money for it, coins and bills shoved away in the back of your drawers. Though the order adds a few weeks to your small project, you can’t settle for anything less than perfect.

Tomioka says nothing about the piece. He spots you once scrubbing away the blood outside. At that moment he stays for a few short seconds, watching your hands work. They’re dry from the rough cleaning chemicals and wrinkled from the soapy water.

—-

Just as your hands stop twitching and aching the replacement fabric arrives. Tomioka leaves sometime while you’re waiting for the package. The briefest contact keeps your heart light, even as the solitude creeps back in. There’s an actual purpose to your actions now, something to take up hours of your time.

The few short yards of burgundy fabric that arrive are still slightly too bright. It’s the shine of new cloth that differentiates it from the well-worn pieces. Regardless you go through the same tedious act of lining up the woven fabric and sewing it together.

There’s a thin line that marks the transition. Once you step a few feet away it’s harder to mark where the difference begins. The work is good, but you can only scrutinize it with the patterns burned into your eyes.

Several mistakes are clear over the rest of the fabric. They’re not your own doing, more likely Giyuu’s attempts to fix earlier tears. It’s cute to see the fumbles stitches, done in a hideous dark black. In most places, it stands out clearly from the pattern, even more so with the blank side.

You decide to fix those pieces, using a gentle green or maroon when appropriate. Though the seam holding the two pieces together makes you cringe, you don’t touch the threads. It’s uneven, both in length of the stitches and space between them. The other “fixes” were clumsy too, but the lines here seem childish almost. You’re sure that the pieces of Giyuu’s haori were bound together by the man himself.

As tempting as it is to make the piece look brand new, there’s history in its torn edges and paling fabric. You wonder if he’d tell you the story behind it.

Probably not.

—-

You haven’t entered Tomioka’s room in quite some time. After he was home for a few short weeks you grew too embarrassed about the actions. In your arms, you carry his carefully folded haori. After giving it one last wash you have no more reason to mess with it. If anything, picking at your work will just ruin it.

Ultimately you let it rest atop his desk. You think for a moment about hanging it up in the closet, but it feels too embarrassing to let him know about your snooping, even inadvertently.

Back inside the room, warmed from the sun and painted in a low gold, you’re tempted to wrap yourself up in his futon again.

For some time you repeat your old routine. After over a month without indulging yourself in old ways, the process comes a little unnaturally. You dust his shelves, fingers dancing over his array of trinkets. They seem almost random, stuffed dolls and broken pieces of painted wood. You’re extremely careful as you move them to clean.

It’s hard to keep yourself busy as you did before. You entered his room earlier in the day, not expecting to be tempted again by the lull of sleeping enveloped in traces of your husband’s warmth.

Still, as you manage to keep yourself busy the sun slowly drifts downwards. It’s on the opposite side of the window, but you can see the moon rise in turn. Though the sky isn’t particularly dark, your quick to pull out the futon.

Before you tuck yourself fully into bed you draw another book from his small shelves. For a few hours, you’ll be able to keep yourself busy with stories. Once it gets truly dark you can simply slide under the sheets and fall asleep.

—-

Beyond the edges of your consciousness, there’s movement that grows steadily louder as it urges you to wake. Eyes open slowly, useless in the dark. Instead, you wave a hand in front of yourself, which is also mostly useless.

It takes a moment for you to adjust to the dim room. As your pupils dilate there’s a sudden figure standing on the edge of the futon. With your position on the floor, he towers over you, face invisible still.

Thinking through the sleep you let your hand sweep over the floor. It bumps into the man’s ankles, forcing you to pull back.

A startled gasp leaves your lips as you move further into consciousness. You don’t scream, but you’re immediately on edge. Panicking, you mostly flail around for a bit until you realize it’s Tomioka standing before you. He’s tilted his face down to stare at you, letting you recognize him even within the darkness.

Instead of the tired fear you felt before, you’re mostly filled with shame. It’s the worst amalgamation of all your fears, caught cuddled up in his sheets.

For a moment you’re unsure of how to proceed. You’re mostly frozen for now, clutching his blankets against your chest.

“S-sorry!” The word comes out quietly, muffled by the lingering sleep in your head. It’s hard to think, brain muddled by all sorts of different things. If Giyuu would speak for once it’d let you put your thoughts in order.

You don’t know why he’s still staring at you. It’s hard to find his eyes, clouded by darkness. The dim lighting masks any emotion you could hope to find on his face.

As the adrenaline leaves your body you’re left feeling tired again. Rubbing your eyes, it seemingly prompts him to move again. The situation had somewhat halted in the pauses between your words.

“I’ll leave.” There’s a certain air to his voice, not angry, but certainly not welcoming either. You’re still not fully awake, a glance towards the window tells you that it’s too early to be awake. There’s possibly a shimmer of pale blue that signals the sun's arrival, but it won’t develop into an actual light until much later. It explains the bleariness in your eyes.

You look like a ghost as you sit up, fabric wrapping around your form. Hair hangs over your head, reaching downwards.

Halting his actions you mumble a combination of words that doesn’t really make sense. There’s a “wait” buried somewhere in there, which is what makes the man pause. You have nothing to follow the sentence up with, still trying to figure out exactly what’s going on.

You’re still shocked by embarrassment. Giyuu has finally stumbled upon you hiding in his bed. The habit was bound to get you caught eventually, so of course it happens right as you start up the trend again.

The room is filled with silence as you try to jumpstart your brain. “I’m uh-“ You pause again. Averting your eyes you find the words again. “I’m the one who’s intruding. I shouldn’t have…” Trailing off you stare at the ground again.

Your chest fills up with something akin to shame. It’s slightly less painful than before, but as your hands hold your face you can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks.

He completely ignores your blubbering. “You fixed my haori.” The sudden topic change catches you off guard. It brings your eyes back to him, despite the fact that your heart is still racing.

Furrowing your brows you nod. “I said I would.”

“It was ruined.”

Your brain is working very hard. “It was hard, but I didn’t mind the work. I don’t think that excuses me being so intrusive.”

“Thank you.” His voice is hoarse, barely audible. You can see that he holds the cloak in

his hands. They grip the fabric so tightly you’re worried it might rip again. The show of emotion renders you silent.

As the room settles back down you shuffle your robes around you and move to stand up. “I can um-“ You lick your lips. At a constant loss for words, you vaguely gesture toward the door.

Tomioka moves back to the conversation at hand. Though his fingers continue to skate over the fabric his eyes turn back to you. “You can stay where you like, the house is as much yours as it is mine.”

That really isn’t true at all. Tomioka pays for everything, in money and blood. Your only contribution is decorating and occasionally throwing a fit in one of the rooms.

“I didn’t think you’d want me here. I should’ve asked but I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me either.” The truth slips through your lips easily. You can’t quite look him in the eye, but you don’t hide from his gaze either. Stepping self-consciously off the futon you shiver at the cold wood against the soles of your feet.

When you steal a glance at the man you’re surprised at the confused look on his face. Giyuu’s mouth is pulled into a slight pout, head tilted. It’s an attractive look, a distracted part of you points out. It’s times like this that you don’t mind being married to him.

Shaking off the thoughts you open your mouth again. “You gave me my own room, so I guessed that you wanted me there.” You dig your nails into your palms. “And you didn’t talk to me after or anything.” Remembering the feeling makes your heart squeeze. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes.

“I thought you hated me.” He admits it so simply. There’s no regret in his voice about the sentiment. The thought forces a whimper from your throat.

“What?” Your voice is wobbly.

Carefully the man sinks to his knees. guiding you down with him. One fist clings to his wrist. The other ends up wound in the fabric of your sleeping gown.

Tomioka at least seems softer about this bit. “You cry often.”

Calming down you try to focus on the feeling of his arm on your back. You’re glad you’re wearing one of your worse kimonos because the sleeves have become impromptu handkerchiefs. With the sudden onslaught of your tears, you’re left unprepared. You’re not sure whether it’s the result of your body begging to go back to sleep or the wave of months of emotions catching up on you. It’s probably a combination of both. Using the piles of fabric you wipe at your nose and under your eyes.

“I thought you hated me because you didn’t talk to me at all, ‘nd you made me stay in another room, ‘nd you’re always gone.” He looks a little pained, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. “And you never sent letters. So I was just stuck here all alone and I thought I would die.” The last part isn’t true, but you’re small tears have started to turn into full-on sobs.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Giyuu sounds much more unsure of himself. His fingers on you twitch whenever your back shakes. It’s horrible reasoning considering that he’s already married to you in the first place. You say as much to him.

Tomioka is showing the biggest amount of emotion possible. His face is twisted into an expression that suggests deep thoughts. It’s nearly enough to shock you out of the sadness, but not quite.

Under his breath, he mumbles an apology. It’s not very meaningful, but you suppose he’s at least trying. You continue to rub at your face, trying to stall your tears.

For a moment you simply sit, facing each other. Though you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere other than your lap. A hand finds its way to your back, creeping hesitantly. You can’t think of a time he’s willingly touched you otherwise.

Finally, overcome you fling yourself into his side. With the sturdiness of his uniform, it’s not particularly soft against your face, but heat radiates from his body. Tomioka doesn’t hold you particularly tight. His other arm wraps around your back, though the grasp is loose and hesitant.

Whether he cares about your tears or not he doesn’t seem to mind that you’ve seated yourself in his lap. Your crying shows no signs of stopping anytime soon, built up behind months of feeling stuck. It’s a horrible mess of wet and snot and a very ugly grimace that you’re glad is hidden.

His hands eventually wander up to your hair, ghosting over the top of your scalp. You can feel how rough they are now, covered in callouses. They’re warm against your head. Almost fiery hot they brush back stray hairs.

Focusing on the repetitive feeling of his hand, alongside the steady beating of his heart, you’re able to stop the tears. A small hiccup or gasp manages to leave you every few seconds, but it’s much less intense than before.

Not very inclined to move, you’re content to keep your face buried within the body in front of you. His hands don’t stop their gentle motions even as you stop your small noises. It’s perhaps the most comfortable you’ve felt in a very long time. Giyuu smells like his futon, but a thousand times more powerful.

As your eyes dry they also begin to drag downward. It’s the inevitable end to every single one of your emotional explosions. Your arms are drooping, their grasp loosening. Distantly you realize that you should move, excuse yourself to your room or do anything to move. Instead, you bury yourself deeper into his chest.

As he begins to move you almost pull yourself back from him. Arms flex around you and tighten their hold. Just when you muster the energy to uncurl your fingers and force your eyes back open, he lifts you up. You’re not surprised by the strength, you’ve seen it before, but it does set a little shock through your stomach.

Suddenly you’re not very inclined to do much of anything.

If he notices the way your hands dig back into his shirt, he doesn’t say anything. You’re pleased by the feeling of muscles flexing around you. Giyuu’s actions aren’t entirely discernible, not from your position, but the way he moves is slightly soothing. It’s reminiscent of being rocked to sleep, his movements graceful.

You let yourself remain in the limbo between rest and wakefulness. The edges of the world ebb away until you’re sat back down, nestled within his futon. It’s been smoothed again, rustled from your whining. It offers the same comfort it always has once you’re enveloped within the warm sheets. As his arms pull away from you, your lips form a ghost of his name.

—-

In the morning you keep your eyes shut for as long as possible. Your mind has snapped awake, reminding you of last night's events. There’s a dryness around your eyes from where your tears have evaporated. As tempting as it is to reach a hand up to rub away the grogginess you keep them in place for now.

Feeling your surroundings gives you almost no clues. All you know is that it is very warm, and you are very comfortable. Slowly you let your eyes barely peek open, a small slit to peer through.

Giyuu is lying next to you, in the sense that he is curled up in on himself at the opposite end of the futon. It’s not a very great length, but the gap between your bodies stretches endlessly in your mind. His back faces you, to which you let your eyes open almost fully. There are small imperfections to his posture, his spine shifting with his breath. It's a slow movement, a reassurance that he’s still slumbering.

You don’t trust yourself to escape without notice. Every sound you make as you settle seems to make the man pause. You’re not sure what that might accomplish either, the events from the night before too embarrassing to accept, but too poignant to ignore.

Softly you let your body relax again. For now, you’re content to watch his body move slightly with each breath. It’s convincing to reach across the gap and feel the warmth you’ve longed for more directly.

Is peaceful, the sun still low enough to not pierce through the window. It still allows faint light inside, illuminating the area.

You’re feeling surprisingly well-rested. There’s a deep calmness in your bones. Lazing about in the bed feels nice, natural. It reminds you of celebrations back home when you were free from responsibilities. There are whispers of summer streaming through the window.

For a few moments, you bask in the light starting to make its way across the floor. lt caresses your face and finally prompts you to move.

Slowly you rise upwards. Tomioka seems to rest still, unmoving. Slowly you creep out of the room, and back towards your own.

It’s chilly in your room, making the hairs on your neck stand on end. With the window facing West, no sun will warm it until the evening. The temperature makes the changing process nearly impossible. Your holding your chest, shivering before you can slip on another dress. Bouncing on your feet you shuffle around until you’re fully clothed again.

It’s easy to move around the house with a light heart. Whether Tomioka has awoken yet or not is a thought that hardly crosses your mind as you cook. Mostly you hope he’ll dine with you, tired of eating in months of silence.

Your hands move quickly as you shuffle around rooting through cabinets. Over time you’ve switched to much more appetizing meals than rice porridge. For today, with your want for a quick breakfast, you mostly work with eggs and fried rice. Throwing in a couple of diced peppers and onions your stomach growls as the sizzling veggies.

The presentation is important to you too. It feels like you’re actually doing something, being a wife. Maybe. You still don’t know if this is right, but you shared a bed last night with your husband. He wasn’t particularly close, but closer than a hallway and walls that separated you before.

So you balance the plates on your arms and move carefully back towards his room. The sense of nervousness creeps up again but isn’t as fierce as before. It at least isn’t enough to deter you from using your foot to slide the door open.

Tomioka has finally risen. His hair is sticking in all sorts of directions, sleep evident in his eyes. You’re surprised at how late he’s slept in.

“Good morning.” A blush creeps back onto your cheeks. It raises your temperature by a few degrees at least, bringing warmth to your face.

“I uh-“ Your mouth is suddenly dry. “I brought food.” The words come out a shy squeak. For a moment the plates wobble in your hold until you square your shoulders and regain control.

He regards you with a surprising amount of warmth, what you think is warmth at least. It’s not indifference, or anger, something kinder.

“Thank you.” He doesn’t smile as he talks, not exactly a frown either. The man exists in the crevices between emotions, which is how he manages to be completely indecipherable most of the time.

You manage to look somewhat graceful as you lower yourself, plates still balancing in your hands. Once you’re close enough he swipes one from your hand, instead letting it sit in his lap.

“You can eat with me,” Giyuu says in a matter-of-fact way that makes your eyebrows raise. He waits for only a second, letting the silence hang, before continuing. “I thought I should be more direct.”

His explanation forces a small light laugh from your lips. “Right, I’m glad. I’ll be sure to do the same.” The corner of his eyes curl up, even though his lips don’t form a smile quite yet. You’re not even sure if he can smile, maybe the man has some sort of disease.

He eats though. And though he’s careful there are little bits of rice stuck to his face. In the corner of his mouth is a little line of ketchup. It’s such a human sight, a clumsy eater that doesn’t know anything about romance or women. There’s some sadness too, the lack of proper social understanding, formed by a life dedicated to fighting.

Realizing the fact that you’re staring quite obviously (something that he somehow does not notice) you look down to eat your own food. The sound of chewing is slightly grating on your ears, but you cannot muster up anymore to say.

Within just a few moments, when you’ve only finished a few bites of food, his fork is scraping against the plates. There’s a decent amount of rice still scattered over his face, some on the floor and his shirt, but most seem to have made it into his mouth. It’s hard not to laugh at the sight, of crumbs sticking to the corner of his lips. Though you’re able to remain silent, your nose scrunches up, eyes narrowing as your lips tug upwards.

“I can make more if you’d like.”

Tomioka still seems half-asleep as he turns to you. “It’s fine.” Despite his appearance, the man’s voice is soft and even. “But I did enjoy it.”

Your lips move into an even bigger smile. It’s half hidden behind your hand, fear of food stuck in your teeth, but the message is still translated clearly. “Did you like the egg too? I don’t know your tastes, so I’ve mostly been guessing.”

His eyebrows furrow again, that concentrated look crossing his face. “I like salmon, salmon daikon. Though I don’t know if that’s appropriate for a breakfast.” He answers quickly.

“Dinner then,” you offer.

He shakes his head. “I’ll have to leave for another mission tonight.” Your shoulders deflate slightly. At least a warning is more than you’ve gotten before. “But I can send you a letter before I arrive back.”

The offer brings your smile back. “I’ll make sure to buy some things for Salmon Daikon. It’ll be the best you’ve ever had!”

—-

He lets you spend most of the morning bothering him. Tomioka says that there’s no point leaving for a few more hours, which you don’t really get, but he probably knows best. While you anxiously watch the sun climb higher into the sky Giyuu gets ready. He doesn’t give you any warning, or tell you to leave, before stripping off most of his clothes.

His back is covered in long strips of scar and muscle. You’ve once again tucked yourself into the folds of the futon, content to watch from there. It’s pleasing the way his shoulders move as he strips the shirt off.

As he moves to remove his pants too, you have the decency to look away. The man doesn’t seem concerned with your presence, but even the thought of seeing him mostly bare makes your eyes screw themselves shut. They don’t crack open until the rustling of fabric and movement stops.

He’s donned the common uniform once again, haori placed overtopped. Tomioka looks so normal again, like he used to every time he flew in and out of the house. You’re staring at the junction where you fixed the sleeve, wondering if he too has noticed the shift.

“I think it looks good,” he tells you. “Much better than anything I could do. I’m not very good at mending things.”

“I can tell,” the words slip from your lips easily. It’s a careless comment, meant to be taken as a joke, but sounds a little too cruel. Your eyes widen, mouth quickly covered with your hands. “I didn’t mean, I uh-“

“You’re fine.” His mouth has quirked upwards just slightly. “It’s true, but I do like to think I’ve improved over the years.”

A hand is still raised over your lips, hoping to keep another dumb comment from slipping through. Once you’re sure you’ve stopped yourself from spoiling the moment you let your hands drop back to your lap. “I’m sure you have.”

He takes sword from where it’s stood carefully in the corner. You watch as he slides the sheath into place along his belt. It completes his ensemble, making him look like a proper soldier. If it were possible (which is to say, if it didn’t put you in mortal danger) you’d like to see him in action. Maybe he’ll let you watch him train sometime.

“Are you going then?”

He nods. “It’s not too far. If I’m lucky I can come back before getting another notice. So you won’t feel so lonely.”

His concern makes your heart throb. Biting your lower lip you try not to let it quiver. “I’ll make you something, give me a few minutes. That way you won’t starve.” Without waiting for his answer you leave the room and rush to the kitchen.

The truth was that you had already prepared some onigiri earlier, tucked away inside the fridge. It’s stuffed with tuna and onions are you’re trying hard not to eat them as you tuck them into a bento. There’s plenty of extra, and you can leave the more… unsightly ones for yourself.

Tomioka comes down the hall just a few moments after you finish. It’s perfect timing. There’s a small sack on his back, which he lets you tuck the lunch into. “Don’t wait too long before eating it though,” you instruct. “I don’t want it to go bad.”

“Right.”

“And be safe!”

“Ok.”

“And-“ You have to curl your hands into fists to force the words the words out, “Iloveyou.”

You’re prepared to turn tail and hide back in your own room (and probably cry—or die—from embarrassment). Before you can even point your feet in the right direction he’s caught your wrist. Though you can barely look at him, you are welcomed to the sight of his pretty pink cheeks. He pulls you toward him, perhaps with more force than necessary, and plants a kiss on your own fiery skin.

You’ve barely registered what’s happened when he’s disappeared beyond the doorway. You don’t know if you’ll be able to drag your feet anywhere else until he gets back, scared of loosing this feeling.

[taintedcigs]

— cowboy hat rule.

pairing: cowboy!steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising, kinda degrading but not really, a lil argument, dom!steve, rivals to fcking, swearing, good old bj for our good boy stevie! reader has a nickname 'sunshine' bc i didn't wanna do y/n sorry:(

summary: helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is. (wc: 5k+)

author's note: this is just horny babbling. i have no idea how cowboy lore works so if im wrong pls just close ur eyes i tried to research but i couldnt find shit just pls i just want cowboy steve dick. and ofc no proof-reading bc im lazy as hell. no dividers ugly aesthetic bc of tumblrs f ass not showing my shit in tags SIGH.

also PLSSS LIKE + REBLOG + COMMENT TO SUPPORT ME MWAH ILY

When you told Mr. Harrington you’d be more than happy to help around his Ranch during the summer, you didn’t expect Steve to become a problem, but you were wrong, so fucking wrong. 

A cocky cowboy who’s way too into partying and into his looks and his fluffy hair than you could ever imagine. That’s exactly how you’d describe Steve Harrington. Even though you so badly wanted to believe otherwise, wanted to disregard the rumors and the reputation that came with him. But, he made it so goddamn hard. 

All he fucking did was tease you, complain. Order you around and act like you didn’t know how to do shit. And, you didn’t, but he was supposed to be your guidance, teach you. But all he did was grumble and give you that goddamned smirk. 

Yet, you couldn’t fully hate him, there was a side of him he rarely showed you, one that cared, one that offered you rides—it was more of a mumble each night but you accepted nonetheless, one that ended up at your side whenever an asswipe bothered you at the bar, one that offered you a hand on your back when you were crying, he didn’t ask what happened, didn’t speak, just stood there, letting you spill out your guts. The two of you never spoke about these incidents, ever, because he acted like they didn’t exist, like he couldn’t bear the thought of being nice to you. 

You were so fascinated by him, even though you’d never admit it out loud. He was charismatic, outright funny, and had a heart of gold that you only peered one layer of. 

And fuck it, he was fine, annoyingly good-looking that he was a distraction to be around when you were supposed to be working, him with those sturdy denim jeans that cupped his ass perfectly, wide-brimmed cowboy hat with a creased crown, put perfectly on his head. Even though you’d much rather see his pretty hair falling on his face, run your hands through his smooth layers.

Usually, when it got as hot as it did today, he’d even take off that stupid shirt, feast your eyes with his glimmering chest, all hairy and glistening with sweat, broad shoulders as he ordered everyone around made you gulp. Like he is doing with you, right fucking now. 

“Sunshine, get back to work.” Heat travels to your cheeks quickly, and that stupid nickname rolls off his lips so bitterly, the one he always called you just because you were all nice and smiley—even when he was being an asshole to you, something that grinded his gears, you guessed it was a foreign concept to him, being nice. 

You were quick to shake off the hold he had on you, getting back on your feet as you stood your ground. “I am working! Just needed a second to breathe!” The lies rolled off your lips so simply that you wondered if he caught you staring. When he turned around to leave, you guessed he hadn’t. 

“Asshole.” The insult leaves you before you can register how close Steve still was to you. 

Turning head-spinningly fast. “What did ya say?” He spits, making you gulp physically. 

He looks out of the world stunning when he’s mad, maybe it’s a toxic trait of yours but, fuck, the way his chocolate hues turn unrecognizable, that slight quirk of his brows, and the way his muscles flex in pure anger made you rub your thighs together. 

Jesus Christ. He is getting into your head, and you hate that you think of him this way when he is so mean. 

“Nothing! I’m just saying it’s really hot out today,” you hum, the sun rays hitting your face not making it easier on the heat that flame your cheeks. 

He gives you a snort, all mocking once he takes a step closer, making you feel hotter if that is possible. “Well that’s what happens in the summer, darlin’”

Hand on the wall he tilts his head slightly, all with sass that has you rolling your eyes. “Or did you expect the weather to give Miss Sunshine some sorta special treatment?”

You roll your eyes, an act you always did that makes Steve’s jaw clench. “Oh, come on Steve! It’s really, really, hot, and the sun is all on my face!”

“Boo-hoo, princess,” he mocks, tipping his hat, almost as if to tease you further.

You scoff, getting closer to him. “Easy for you to just stand around in that big hat!” With a narrowed gaze, you cross your arms against your chest, like a brat, another trait that annoyed Steve even further.

Then, you beam again, and Steve knows no matter how much you hate it, Sunshine is absolutely the nickname you deserve, eyes glistening with happiness that it annoyingly even brings a glint to his pretty amber hues. His gaze unintentionally droops down to tour lips, so plushy and soft looking when it curls into that pretty smile that Steve wants to kiss you all over. 

“Oh! Do you mind if I?” You ask all giggly, pointing toward his wide-brimmed hat, hand teasingly standing above his head. 

He scoffs as if you had just asked him the most insulting question ever. “Not a chance,” he spits, now he crosses his arms in front of his chest, eyeing you with a dark glint in his eyes, one you couldn’t decide was full of annoyance or just pure desire. 

“Mhmmm… okay,” you hum, feigning innocence for a second, before snatching it off his head with another hearty giggle.

Oh, what he would do to hear that on a loop, admire the way your lips stretched into the prettiest grin, brows quirked.

“Sunshine!” He chides, much rougher than he intends to, but you don’t pay attention to him when you place the hat carefully on your head, smoothing your hair.

You shrug, looking up at him with those doe eyes that have him melting, everytime, without fail. “Admit it, looks better on me.” You shrug, expecting him to agree.

Instead, he just offers you a deep sigh of breath, eyes almost widening when he realises what you just did. “Do you even—”

He huffs, hiding the obvious pink shade thats starting to color his cheeks, you really had no idea the hold you had on him, did you? “God, you city girls have no idea about anything, huh?”

Your brows furrow. “What?” 

“Cowboy hat rule?” He asks with a tilt of his head, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

A teasing smile curves on your plushy lips as you push for more information. “What’s that?”

“Just give me the hat back,” he insists, attempting to mask the warmth that crept into his tone.

With a shake of your head, your defiance only grows, a glint of mischief dancing in your gaze. “Not until you tell me the rules.” 

“Sunshine,” he warns, voice so grumbly that heat travels all over your body quicker than the sun burning you. 

“Steve?” You hum with a flirty gaze, so teasing that Steve wants to fuck you right then and there, until he teaches you proper manners, until he shows you not to be a total fucking brat and not to roll your eyes at him, until he shows you that you’re his. 

But, of course, he settles on a low grumble of, “You’re annoying.”

“You used to be more creative with the insults, Harrington.” Another teasing remark, and Steve rolls his tongue inside of his mouth. 

With a smirk, he takes another step toward you, when your back hit the walls of the barn, only then you realise, he has you cornered. “You wanna know the cowboy hat rule, princess?” He asks all smugly.

Gaze meaner than he is, chest almost pressed against yours, voice so low that all you can do is slightly nod. 

Your breath gets hitched in your throat when his face is mere inches away from yours, hot breath fanning against your cheeks, skin heating on the impact, that brattiness you wear as a mask quick to slip off when he’s all demanding. “You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” His tone is almost a growl, pupils blown wide, making you gulp, physically.

“What?” You blink, unsure of what he’s actually asking. Excitement jumping around in your tummy. 

“You heard me. Wanna take me for a ride, Sunshine?” He is so goddamn close that you are sure he can hear the annoying tumble your heart does at the weight of what his words hold. 

It makes you pause, gaze sticking on his, sometimes slipping away to his soft lips, almost to signal him of something, but all you can do is try to hide the embarrassment that burns your cheeks. 

“Didn’t think so,” he scoffs, backing away just slightly. 

His cowboy hat is too big on your head, tipping low over your eyes, possibly hiding your nervousness as you mutter, “What if I do?”

With a smooth motion, he flips it off from your head, holding it with his palm, away from you. “Get back to work, Sunshine.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I, those horses ain’t gonna straddle their strap themselves, off. to. work,” he hisses, turning to leave.

You huff, heat still burning off your cheeks, more embarrassed than annoyed, yet you still don’t have it in yourself to let it go, you can’t let him have this. Win this.

Quick to snatch the hat back, “So the hat rule is, wear the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy, huh?” You mumble behind him, your voice failing you, yet you appear to be giggly, and Steve heaves a deep sigh of breath, before fully turning to you.

He halts a bit when he sees you once again, in his hat, tipped low, that stupidly addicting smirk gracing your slightly-open lips, hand on your hips, and all he wants to do is fuck you till you lose that attitude of yours. 

“Stop,” he warns, taking a step closer to you but with a shake of your head you back away, and he sighs, loud and annoyed. 

“Gimme that, sunshine!”

“Nuh-uh.” All teasing and bratty, and grating on Steve’s last nerve. You know this, yet you wanna keep pushing him, further and further, until he snaps, until he can’t take it anymore. You have no reason to do this, you’re supposed to hate him, think of him as an annoying asshole.

But the two of you are finally tethering on that line, the line between purely teasing each other out of spite, to teasing each other out of flirting, you know that, and you don’t wanna take a step back. “Prove it.”

You are all up in his face, and all he can do his roll his eyes, cheeks beetle red, frustration worn on his face. “Knock it off.”

You tut gently, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Not until you—” Your words are interrupted quickly when he snatches up the hat from your head in annoyance, making you gasp when he discarded it easily.

“Get back to work!” His voice raises, and it makes you take a deep breath.

Shit, did you fuck this up?

“What?” You question, entire body feeling dizzy. He takes a step closer.

“You heard me.”

Another step closer, his breaths come out in short gasps, frustration taking over him. “Get back to fuckin’ work, before I can’t stop myself.”

He is close. Too fucking close, and you can’t help the way your gaze droops down to his soft lips, slightly parted open, downturned from frustration. God, you realize how hot he is when he is angry, once again. “F—from what?”

He hesitates, before licking his lips. This is it. He wants, no, he desperately needs you. Needs to put you to your place. Teach you what happens to bratty girls like you. Show you what exactly the stupid rule is. “From fucking you in this goddamn barn.”

You release the breath you’ve been holding back, feeling small, so small under his gaze. Mouth hanging open, and all you want is him to pin you against the wall, have you screaming out his name. “From making sure I show you how the goddamn cowboy hat rule works.”

Your back is plastered against the wall, his hands are by your side, you are caged beneath him, chest rising in anticipation. “Is that what you want, honey, think you can handle all of that?” He’s so smug, and you don’t know what overtakes you when he’s all in control like this, you wanna obey him, make him happy, proud, so you bite back on your insults.

His smirk is dangerously alluring, and you’re under his spell. 

“Please,” you beg, heat finds your cheeks again, you hate the hold he has on you.

He barks out a chuckle, so mean, yet as equally hot. “Please, what? Speak up,” he spits, rolling his tongue inside of the roof of his mouth, lips wearing a smirk.

“Ruin me,” your voice is small, meek, yet it makes him groan. 

You’re such a good girl for him, and he wants nothing more than to ruin you. Fully. Completely. Ruin you for every other man. 

His head ducks down to your neck, leaving a sloppy kiss before leaning into your ear, his breath hot on your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Goddamit darlin’, you gonna be the death of me, huh?”

You don’t—you can’t answer, you’re speechless, rubbing your thighs together desperately, seeking some friction, a touch, anything. 

He levels with you again, dangerous gaze on your lips, fingertips brushing against your cheeks teasingly “You know what I always wanted to do, sunshine?” He coarses lowly. 

“W—what?” You ask with a gulp, lips twitching with need. 

He gives you another grin, that asshole. The pad of his thumb slowly caressing your lips now, making you shiver with hunger. “Always wanted to put you to your place, you and that damn smart mouth, always runnin’ it for no good reason. I’d give you a good reason for those pretty lips, huh? Use it the way I wanna use it, fill it the way I wanna feel it,” he grunts like he said the most normal thing, yet you’re already squirming, wanting to open your lips, take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them, show him how much of a good girl you can be for him.

He has you on such a hold already, and you can’t complain. For someone who seemed to be annoyed—hell, even hated him a few minutes ago, you feel crazy, batshit insane, all you want is him.  

His fingertips play with your lips all teasingly, pupils blown wide, the other hand caresses your hair so possessively that you melt into his touch. “You gonna be good for me sweet thing?”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice. “Y—yes, sir.”

Sir. 

Godfuckingdammit. You don’t know the hold you have on him, do you?

He bites back on the moan that rumbles in his throat, instead settling on a, “Good girl.” Your puppy dog eyes glint at the praise, and he makes a mental note of it. . 

“Get on your knees f’me, darlin’,” he grumbles, and you’re quick to obey, not minding the uncomfortable feeling of the wooden floors scraping your knees, or the fact that anyone might’ve walked in, the door was locked, and there was probably no one around yet Mr. Harrington might’ve returned to the ranch at any moment. But he made you feel safe, somehow. 

You look up at him with those doe-eyes again, making him suck in a breath before he unbuttons his jeans and pushes them off his hips, boxers so tight around his hard cock that he grunts involuntarily.  

Your eyes go wide the second his erection springs free, almost hitting the tip of your nose, red, angry and leaking with pre-cum, he lets out a chuckle at your expression before grabbing the base of his cock. 

Same eyes, looking up at him all hungrily, Steve feels the way blood rushes quickly to his cock, making him harder if that's even possible, with a groan he runs the leaking tip across your lips. “Open up.”

Your hand replaces his quickly, and he runs his fingers through several strands of your hair, teaching you how exactly he wants you. 

You open your mouth wide, just like he likes it, tongue giving his slit kitten licks, moaning at the taste of his salty pre-cum, wrapping your plushy lips around his thick head, and sucking the life out of him, determined, and feigning innocence with the soft gaze you held. 

Head thrown back, heavy boots planted on the harsh ground, he lets out a low groan, stroking your hair all softly. “Look at you s’pretty like this for me.”

His hand wraps tighter around your hair, pushing you onto him, making sure you gag a little and that only spurs you on, making you whine around his cock, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Cat got your tongue, darlin’?” He chuckles all meanly. 

“God, do you have any idea how many times I wanted to shut up that bratty mouth like this?” He asks with grunts leaving his open mouth, hand working harshly around your head, mouth feeling like heaven the more you bob around his thick length, struggling to take all of him. 

“Those pretty lips are—mmpf, shit—better stuffed with my cock than being a spoiled lil’ city girl runnin’ her mouth, ain’t that right, baby?” You nod meekly, angelic eyes seeking for his validation before you flatten your tongue around the sensitive part of his tip, struggling to take all of him in your mouth. Earning guttural moans, eyes squeezed shut as he feels your soft lips wrapped around him again.

“Fuck, sweet thing.” You can feel his filthy grunts straight in your core, all low and lewd that you almost moan around him again, he puts one hand on the wall, helping himself to better move in and out of your throat. 

He knows if you keep this up, he’ll cum right and there, and fuck, he needs that. But he needs to be inside of you more. 

You keep up your stroking, now adjusting yourself properly to start licking and sucking on his balls. “Sunshine, you need to s—stop,” the words barely leave his lips, he so doesn’t want you to stop. But, he needs to cum inside of you. 

Yet, you don’t listen to him as your movement speeds up, determined to feel his load warming your throat, make him proud, and your mouth bobs harder around his length, making him growl at you harshly. “Sunshine,” he warns, pulling you by your hair. 

You’re quick to take a deep breath of air once he pulls you off, looking up at him with the perfect innocent eyes, your lips wearing the prettiest pout. “Was that not good for you, Stevie?” 

Stevie. That nickname makes his head spin faster, all he wants to do is fuck you against those stupid rustic walls, have you screaming out for him, the whole ranch filled with your filthy noises, no one was around anyway.

“You kiddin’, sweetheart?” He gives you a chuckle, wrapping his hands around your jaw, pulling you off the floor. 

“You were fuckin’ amazing,” he hums, leaning down to kiss you, tasing the salty semen on your tongue. 

His hands are quick to travel along to your waist, fingertips finding their way onto your panties rather quickly, earning a gasp out of you. “Need to be in here first, honey.”

You nod, so quickly that you can feel him grinning into the kiss, his hands are everywhere, yours are more or less the same, quick to get rid of his top, to feel his toned chest in your soft hands, your top is sprawled right next to his, revealing your pink and gold bra at him, breasts peeking out just enough to have him groan, big hands quick to get rid of them. 

He has you caged against the amber walls, back hitting the rough material, making you hiss. Your skin heats at the impact, it’s filthy, lewd, and so public, but none of you even care enough to break the kiss. He settles between your thighs, his pants drooped to his ankles, hands rubbing across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

The sight of you so easily submitting to him, makes his cock grow harder than he thought was possible, looking so ethereal that Steve forgets all about everything else. “Sunshine,” he breathes, hands fiddling with the hem of your panties. 

“Mhmm,” is all you can muster, legs slightly open for him, and he almost feels possessive over you, it’s entirely stupid, but he looks so fucking alluring with those dark chestnut eyes, layered hair a mess, and cock weeping entirely with the thought of you. 

His thumb runs over the seam of your pussy, just a glimpse of how his fingers are going to ruin you, and you pulse and clench against him already. Wet. Drenched. And all ready to take him. “You’re soaked,” he groans.

Leaning further into your ear, “is that all for me, honey?” he rasps, desperate, needing your confirmation. 

Heat grows in your cheeks faster than a scorching day in July, and he grins, again, all cocky and proud. “Yes,” you admit meekly, and Steve’s quick to kiss your worries away. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he growls, swirling your wetness up and around your slit, almost toying with you, having you desperately mewl for him. 

He can’t put his finger on it, what it is that draws him this much into you, but he’s hooked, so goddamn obsessed that he feels like an idiot, for being this much of an asshole, for acting like a grade school boy who’s pulling the pigtails of his crush. Like a stupid cliche. 

“Stevie.” That nickname, again. Godfuckingdammit, Steve thinks. You have him so wrapped around your finger, it’s like a prayer, and he’s sure you’re not aware of it. And it drives him even crazier. “Please.”

“Talk to me.” His voice is low, lips now nipping at your neck, suckling, giving you all the marks you need. 

“I need you,” you hum, eyes squeezed shut, desperate. His finger discard your panties and slide easily inside of you, your back is fully dipped into the well-worn walls with how good he feels, his thick fingers making their way in and out of your soppy cunt, whines leave your lips faster than you can comprehend. 

“Ruin me, Steve, fully, completely.” You don’t know how those words leave past your lush lips, but your thighs ache with need, cunt throbbing for him and him only. 

His eyes widen quickly, pure hunger quick to fill his veins, mouth hanging open, curses leaving his lips at how forward you are being. “Show me the cowboy hat rule, sir.” 

Steve all but groans, mouth harshly on yours again, chests pressed together and you can feel how hard he truly is, rock stiff, and aching to be inside of you. The sheer size of how he feels against your thighs almost makes your eyes bulge again. 

His fingers stop moving in and out of you, before you can whine, he spins you around so fast that you gasp loudly, hands immediately plastered on the wall, pleasure and excitement fills your tummy, but the fact that he’s seeing you all vulnerable like this is embarrassing enough that you try to close your legs. 

He’s quick to stop you with a grin, rough hands landing on the back of your thighs, spreading them open while tutting you. “Nuh-uh. Don’t get all shy now, princess. Spread them open f’me.” You spread them a little, cunt throbbing with how close his fingers are. 

He groans again once he fully gets a view of you like this, face down, ass up, your pussy slicked with your juices, at his mercy. “‘M gonna ruin you, honey, don’t you worry.” A dark chuckle barks out from his chest, sending chills down your spine, almost making you whine. 

Fuck. 

His hands are rough when he has you by your waist, bruising almost. Lining his cock in front of your slick core, he swipes the head of his reddened tip inside of you with one forceful thrust. Your plushy lips open slightly, stealing your breath away as you try to adjust to his size.

Shit, shit, shit, he feels even better than you fucking expected.

His cock splits you open, filling every goddamn inch of you. You don’t know how many times you thought this, but, shit, he’s as big as the gossip in this small town says he is. 

His thrusts are slow, grunts so loud and heavenly that it spurs you on more and more. His weight on you, the bruising hold. You feel him everywhere. On your back, hips, and fucking inside of you.

“F-fucking, fuck!” he growls, leaving nibbles all over your shoulder and back, even with the fact that this was Steve, and he was rough and filthy, it was wildly intimate, so wildly intimate that you could feel your heart pounding inside of your chest. 

“How are you this fuckin’ tight, s-sweetheart?” One of his hands travel up to your neck, roughly holding you down, hips slamming into you with such force that you cry out.

He watches the way his girthy cock disappears in and out of you, wetting himself with your juices, filling every inch of you. “Doin’ s’good for me, princess.” His praises are heavenly, making your chest swell with pride.

He moves inside of your soppy cunt with short thrusts. Completely bottomed out, thrusting against the same sensitive spot every time as his balls, heavy with cum grind against your clit, with each movement, making you cry out his name, babbles leaving your mouth. “Yeah, you like this don’t ya? Want me to ruin this slutty pussy, huh? Ruin it for every other men?”

You nod all dumbly, yet, it isn’t enough for him. He wants to hear you, have you scream it out. “Say it, sweet thing, fuckin’ say it,” he groans, coarse voice making tingles appear everywhere on your skin. 

“I-I love it, Stevie, want you to ruin me for everyone else, mmpf,” you moan all fucked out, eyes rolled all the way back to your head, hips desperately grinding against him for some more friction. 

He picks up his pace, fucking into you with reckless abandon.“F-fuck doll, won’t last if you keep runnin’ that dirty mouth.” 

But his words just encourage you to keep going, gasps coming out in short breaths as you manage to drive him crazier. “All yours, sir, all yours.” 

He grunts at that, one of his arms snaking around and under your hips to find a better angle, lifting you up so that he can fuck his cock deeper into you, make you feel how fucking big he really is. “That’s right, baby, it’s all fuckin’ mine.”

Hot tears spill down your cheeks, entire body burning with it. The slick sounds of his hips driving into you, your moans, his low groans are all that fill the room. So fucking filthy, and you can feel yourself clenching around him. 

It’s all too much; his hands everywhere, the lewd noises he makes, how deep his girthy cock is bottomed out inside of you, making you feel every ridge. It’s fucking perfect, and you desperately need to cum. 

And of fucking course, Steve can feel your pussy gripping him, so tight that he knows he’s gonna cum right after you do. “Gonna cum f’me, huh? Such a good girl,” he praises, again, knowing the effect it has on you and all you can do is gasp and weakly nod. 

One of his thumbs quickly finds your clit, making your pussy throb around him in pure ecstasy, all the overstimulation enough to have you crying like a bitch in heat. “Give it to me, angel,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses everywhere on your skin.   

His movements pick up, padded thumb rubbing circles around your clit, the other hand landing on your nipples, twisting them while pumping into you, it’s all too much that it makes you sob and beg for him. 

“Cream my cock, let me ruin you completely, darlin’” It’s all the confirmation you need as your orgasm builds and washes through you, body exploding with pleasure, spreading through your skin as you scream out his name. 

Your pussy squeezes and pulses around his cock, and he fucking knows, he won’t last, not in the slightest. “S-shit, sweet thing, gonna make me cum with all those filthy noises.” 

“Want that, honey, hmm? Wanna be filled with my cum? Show everybody in this town who owns ya? Owns this tight lil’ cunt?” He feels it, that pure hunger for you over taking him, coarse voice, dark eyes, like a man possessed. His fingers dig further into your skin as he desperately chases his orgasm, enjoying the sloppy sounds your pussy makes as he drives into you.

“P-please, Stevie, n-need your cum,” you weakly hum. And it fucking breaks him. Hips losing all rhythm when he spills his warm load into you, twitching inside of you once he pumps you full of his cum. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sunshine,” he breathes, collapsing on your back, both of you trying to come down from the high. He slips free of you slowly, his cum dripping down your thighs, making him grin proudly. 

“S-steve,” you weakly murmur, collapsing in his arms. He holds you down, slight kisses left on your back, delicate in a way you have never seen him before. Yet, the two of you don’t mention it, “let me take you home,” he mutters, a gentle hold on you that makes you feel warm.

“N-no.”

“No?” Intrigued, his breath gets caught in his throat, the look you give him is so sultry that the blood rushes to his cock in an instant again. Fucking fuck, what have you done to him.

“We still haven’t followed the rules,” you purr sweetly, causing him to raise his brows in excitement, tempting him further and further. 

“The rule was wear the hat, ride the cowboy, wasn’t it?” You question with a slight grin, eyes lulled, still fucked out. 

Your fingertips gently grazed against his chest, hairy and slicked with sweat, his sudden dominance fading when you were so quick to switch from begging to cum underneath him to gaining that flirty, giddy personality again. Already leaving him a mess. “Y-yeah,” he murmured, watching you hungrily, his cock already weeping again. 

“Then, sit down and lemme take care of you, cowboy,” you ordered again, shuddering breaths leaving him in an instant.   

Now you were going to ruin him.

Fully.

Completely.

And Steve couldn’t be more infatuated. You were truly his demise.   

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚✒️₊✧ 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶'𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁 ♡₊˚📓₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 professor x student 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 1.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: contemplating if i should do a full series on professor nanami. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

Professor Nanami was captivated by you from the moment you walked into the classroom on the first day. Among the sea of students, you were the only one who chose to sit right at the front, directly in the middle, with a radiant smile that caught his attention instantly.

He always seemed to lose his train of thought during lectures whenever he directed even a brief glance in your direction. 

When he found out your name during one of the online quizzes, he shamelessly delved into researching your social media accounts. Every image he came across painted a picture of sunshine and rainbows, but it was that one image of you in a bikini that sent shockwaves to his cock.

His obsession grew to the point he intentionally gave you a lower grade on an exam you clearly excelled in, just so you would have a reason to schedule office hours and discuss it with him.

As you sat across from him, he found himself struggling to catch his breath. You passionately argued why you deserved a chance for a retake. Tears welled up in your eyes, tracing the delicate edge of your waterline. He didn’t realize it would go this far and he was a fucking idiot for it.  

Nanami rushed over to your side. He quickly crouched down, gently cupping your flushed face in his hands. His thumbs wiped over your wet lashes as he whispered, “I apologize, sweetheart. I purposely gave you a failing grade just to have this chance to speak with you. It was not my intention to cause you distress.”

He held his breath, eagerly awaiting your response, your face still cradled in his hands, only for you to ask, “So, did I pass?” And with a chuckle, he nodded affirmatively, replying, “From the very start.” Because you were a smart girl. The smartest out of everyone he’s ever met. 

His chuckle abruptly ended when you leaned in and kissed him, causing him to freeze with wide-open eyes as yours remained tightly shut in anxious anticipation.

Then like a pliable putty responding to heat, he melted into the kiss, responding with fervor and intensity, while you stood there, arms encircling his neck, both of you lost in the moment. He awkwardly fumbled with locking his office door in a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of professionalism amidst the escalating moment.

You were perched comfortably on his lap, your lips moving in perfect harmony with his, your body undulating against his erection, fulfilling the dirty fantasies you've harbored for your professor since you first enrolled in his class.

He showered your face and neck with kisses, quickly removing your sweater to unveil your breasts. He teasingly latched onto your perky, sweet nipples, all while he struggled to contain his own orgasm, barely held back by the fabric of his boxers.

In a matter of minutes, he had you bent over his desk, pants and boxers dangling carelessly, his thick, veiny cock buried within you, thrusting vigorously, the force causing his stationary and name plaque to crash to the ground. You gripped the edges tightly, cheek pressed against the smooth mahogany surface, your ass arching to meet his every powerful thrust.

Finishing his heavy load inside of you, he marveled at the sight of his release dripping down your legs, mirroring the tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. Your asscheeks showed signs of discoloration from his relentless spanking; and your legs trembled with the aftermath. He helped you stand, but you sagged into his embrace, causing him to lift you in a bridal-style carry.

Settling into his chair, he gently stroked your face, showering you with praises for being such a good girl for him.

Relentless since the moment he first fucked you, Nanami couldn’t seem to get enough, whether it's after his lectures in his cluttered office, or shooting you a text asking you meet him in some deserted storage space, or inviting you to his place for a cozy evening of dinner and drinks.

And sometimes, it's not even about the sex but just cuddling on the couch, binging movies until you both fall asleep wrapped in each other's arms. It's like time stood still in those moments, suspended in a bubble of warmth that you both never want to burst.

Nanami had become your boyfriend months into your relationship. He surprised you on your graduation day by proposing to you in the lecture hall where you first met four years ago, and as an extra reward for being his good girl, he also asked you to move in with him.

He cried when you said yes.

[nervocat]

I HAVE ANOTHER ONE (don't you love me :3). more leona <333

male reader who will show up at random to put flowers in leona's hair or give him flower crowns. and when he leaves, everyone would think leona would toss them or something, but he actually wears them. (i just really like flowers nervo sobs.)

“A Crown for your Head.” (no cws - wc: 257, fluff/platonic/romantic, male reader) FEM ALIGNED DNI WITH THIS POST OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

Sitting next to Leona, picking flowers around you from the botanical garden and weaving them into a flower crown had become a relatively common thing. Leona didn't mind it.

The peaceful rustling of the plants around you two was comfortable, and so was the silence. It always was.

On your head — there was an already woven flower crown. Why make another one? For Leona of course! You usually just stick flowers in his hair — ones only you knew the meaning of — but this time you're making a crown for him.

Slipping in the last of the flowers in, you hold it up to look at it. Happy with the final product, smiling, you turn to face Leona and put it atop his head, careful of his ears that twitch when the flowers graze them.

Opening his green eyes, he looks at you. “What did you just put on my head?” you giggle a bit, and Leona moves a hand to feel.

His hand stops though when he realizes it's just some flowers. “Putting flowers in my hair again, huh?”

“Not just one though,” you reply. Leona just smiles. “Well, you can do what you want with it. Throw it away, keep it-”

“Why would I throw your flowers away?”

“Huh?”

“I don't mind your flower hobby, or the fact you put them in my hair,” he moves a gloved hand to ruffle your hair, making you whine a bit at it.

“I won't throw ‘em away, as long as they don't wilt they'll stay on my head.”

[ ★ notes: maybe the ending could've been better but this actually turned out a lot better than I thought it would so!! I get to open my requests for twst finally <33 I planned on researching what flowers meant that were vauge enough for this but I gave up.. I still like how it turned out tho without describing what flowers were put into the flower crown I'll let you guys imagine that. Hope you like this devil 🫶🫶 ]

★ — © nervocat || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or translate my works anywhere, ty — ✦

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 | 𝐅𝟏 ❞

pairing: f1 grid (not all) x black fem driver!reader

summary: in which reader takes the f1 pilots to experience her culture and the beautiful country that is South Africa.

warnings: south african slang, cussing, social media environment, mentions of food, borderline chaotic

saint’s team radio 🎀: you have no idea how excited i was to write this. i love my country so so much and to be able to share it with all of you is a blessing. thank you @exotic-iris13 for requesting this! side note, December is in summer so i hope i don’t confuse you! enjoy!

please like, comment and reblog! (i’m watching you)

fc: @/mbbaarrhliii on ig!

tags: @non-stop-imagines @perfecttrashface @mauvecherie-writes @purplelewlew @arshiyuh @yeea-nah @alika-4466 @louvrepool @sheluvsf1

imessage: THE OFFICE 🏎️

y/n: i just got my braids done losers

charlie w a ferrari: but the season’s over, we won’t see it :(

carlito: plus didn’t you already have them done last month?

landinhoooo: no guys december braids usually mean a vacation, so where are you going? 🤨

y/n: firstly, you know wayyyy too much about the braids thing 😭

honey badger: that was oddly specific i have to say, lan

yukibae: yeah that was weird

landinhoooo: wtv 🙄 where are you going, y/n!

y/n: my mother is requesting the presence of all of you so you’re all coming back home with me 🤭

carlito: mi vida, wouldn’t that be too soon? winter break just started

kika’s bf: also how would it work? accommodation, transport, all those things

y/n: are you saying no to an african mother?

lew <3: guys say yes, she’ll show up to your house and force you

alexander!: not to mention it’s summer that side (she kidnapped one of my cats, say yes)

princess george: okay, let’s say we all go. what is going to happen?

y/n: i’m just saying, you haven’t lived if you haven’t never experienced a South African summer

mad max: I don’t know, y/n. just please don’t guilt trip us

mickey schumi: i can already feel her frown from here

y/n: i was going to pay for everything but since none of you want to go, i’m saving money 🤭

landinho: wait

kika’s bf: wait hold on

charlie w a ferrari: why didn’t you say so in the first place?!

honey badger: now that you’ll be our sugar mommy, ofc we’ll all be there

princess george: that clears out so much

y/n: you guys are a bunch of IDIOTS

alexander!: there has to be a catch???

landinho: ALEX SHUT UP WE’RE GOING ON A FREE TRIP

carlito: we’ll even dance to that one music playlist of yours

y/n: all of you have to wear my merch next season and you’ll let me win two races back to back

mad max: now y/n-

y/n: uh oh! looks like max is paying for everything!

charlie w a ferrari: JUST SAY YES

mad max: okay, you’ll win two races and i’ll slow down

princess george: i just did some quick research and y/n, you’re seen as a national treasure??? and lewis is considered Nelson Mandela’s grandchild??

y/n: well, yes! don’t question my country, okay? 🫶🏽

yukibae: yes ma’am 🫡

oscahhh: i went for a run, what did i miss??

landinho: we’re going on a trip and y/n is paying 😝

honey badger: except max, he’s paying for his own things

mad max: i’m not??

y/n: three races and i’ll get you a new console

kika’s bf: CAN I HAVE ONE??

landinho: NOOO I NEED ONE, PLS Y/N

y/n: we all earn millions every race??? get it yourself????

kika’s bf: i’m going to tell kika you’re bullying me

y/n: she’s coming on the trip too along with all the other wags 🤭

yukibae: and where’s YOUR wag, y/n? 🤨

y/n: yuki shhh pls i’ll literally buy you an island

charlie w a ferrari: NUH UH YUKI TELL US

landinho: yuki what do you know

princess george: whoever isn’t y/n’s wag, say so RN

everyone: NOT ME

lew <3: damn

landinho: I KNEW ITTTTTT

honey badger: IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW AHHH

alexander!: I HAVE TO GO TELL LILY

oscahhh: have you guys never seen them interact in the media pen? it’s like they’ve been married for 27 years

logang: and how do YOU know that

oscahhh: mate, you told me

y/n: 🙄

y/n: go pack for this trip before i shave your eyebrows 🫶🏽

y/n’s instagram story

seen by kehlani, ferrari and 34,282,722 others

-

“There’s no way you got cars for all of us.” George and everyone else really couldn’t believe that the lengths you went through to make this trip as perfect as you could. “Not to mention booking out the Four Seasons!” Carmen interjected, walking next to her boyfriend.

You watched as everyone filed into the Mercedes vans waiting for them on the airport runway where the large jet had landed. You couldn’t believe you got everyone to come to South Africa in the first place but guilt tripping them had worked a charm, complaining that you don’t have a home race and that your mom would be pissed.

Very easy to fool these guys.

The skies of Johannesburg weren’t all too clear but you could tell that it was summer. Deciding to rather catch up with everyone at the hotel a bit later, you used a private exit to the airport so that you could visit your mom and sister before anything else. Plus you knew a big deal would’ve been made if you had announced that you were coming home so posting will do for now.

“Bathong, where are your friends? I thought you’d all come here.” Your mother said whilst setting up the extremely long table in her backyard so you were sat on a pool chair just watching her.

bathong - more of an expression of confusion or shock

“It was going to look suspicious if i came here with all these people with the same vans following each other.” You replied. “I booked the Four Seasons, it should be big enough for all of us.”

“Oh okay, that’s fancy. So where’s your boyfriend?” Your mom asked with a grin on her face that earned a head shake from you.

“Ukuphi uLerai?” Where’s Lerai? (younger sister)

“Usaseskholeni. Unfuna ukuyomlanda?” Your mom replied. She’s still at school. Do you want to go fetch her?

“Yeah, i want to surprise her. So let me go and I’ll see you later when I drop her off.” You stood up, saying goodbyes to her as your mom went about what she doing.

Hopping in one of your various cars that you kept in your mother’s garages, you quickly texted your boyfriend when an idea popped in your head.

imessages!

y/n: do you want to cause a bit of chaos

lew <3: sigh

lew <3: what kind?

y/n: i’ll pick you up rn and we’re going to pick my sister up from school 😝

lew <3: should i be scared?

y/n: slightly, see you in a few 😚

-

To say you caused a bit of chaos would be an understatement. You hadn’t realised that your sister’s school was huge and this whole time, you forgot what you and your boyfriend did for a living. Picture this: a Lamborghini Urus parked outside where many high school kids are obsessed with it, you and Lewis stepping out to call your little sister, kids recognise you two, you apologise to your sister with ice cream.

You end the day off with lounging in the room with your boyfriend, laughing at the reactions of your fans to the news of you being in the country. You had planned this whole visit out, wanting everyone to get their rentals tomorrow morning then taking them everywhere.

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, bellahadid and 937,728 others

yourusername home 🇿🇦

view comments

user there’s no fucking way, YOU’RE BACK??

yourusername and i’m with my FRIENDS 🤭

youryoungersister a facetime would be nice next time 🧍🏽‍♀️

yourusername well, no!

landonorris y/n, what is a kota?

yourusername if you’re up for it, we can get some today

georgerussell okay but what IS it

yourusername DON’T WORRY

georgerussell I’M WORRIED

carlossainz55 you didn’t say it was going to be this hot

charles_leclerc she warned us mate 😭

danielricciardo btw max is still hanging out with that cat he found at breakfast

lilymhe i’m obsessed with this place, i never want to leave

francisca.cgomes you’re still in the hotel room 🫤

alexandrasaintmleux i just googled gold reef city, CAN WE GOOO PLS

alex_albon WHATS THAT

loganseargent IT’S AN AMUSEMENT PARK

user i just drove in the four seasons driveway, guys there are so many cars lined up for them 😭

user she comes to the country when i decide to LEAVE??

dbngogo stfu you’re back? 🥹 come to Konka 🫵🏽

landonorris WHAT’S THAT

dbngogo it’s a nightclub 🤭

sza CAN I JOIN Y’ALL

yourusername ofc bae

lewishamilton there’s a flower bouquet that says Mandela’s grandchild for me 🧍‍♂️

user oh fuck he knows the joke

georgerussell told you

f1 y/n bring back our drivers 😣

yourusername bring back kyalami then we’ll talk

user oop-

-

SOWETO

south western township

Not wanting to waste any time, Y/n scooped up her friends to visit her hometown, where she grew up and dreamed of this very moment.

The convoy of extremely expensive cars that sped through the route to Soweto had caught the attention of many people, including the news that announced your arrival.

Briefing the boys (and the girls) on their menu choices of your favourite foods, they all equally decided that they’ll start training when they get back home. With the food place being right across a park with a large parking lot, it was convenient for you.

Being the host for this whole trip, you went ahead and ordered for everyone, speaking through the hole in the wall to specify orders and paying a hefty price including drinks. You watched as all your friends climbed out of their respective cars, leaning and sitting on the hoods of the cars as they all bonded. The vibrant atmosphere of your home country made everything feel like summertime.

Getting help carrying all that food to the group, everyone took their orders and observed them. “So, amagwinya are fat cakes, they’re very filling. A Kota is a uncut loaf of bread with stuff inside like hot chips, sausages and other things that you can specify for your Kota.” You explained, everyone immediately digging in and their faces said it all.

“And for you, Lew, you can have the fat cakes and the hot chips. I have to say, you’ll be full for the entire day.” You turned to your boyfriend who gave you a kiss before trying the food.

Later that day, dinner at your mother’s was a success, everyone finishing their plates and sharing different stories under the Johannesburg stars.

The next day was filled with fun activities, hitting up the amusement park Gold Reef City then late night karting, the friendship between everyone was growing as smiles never left their faces.

a week later

yourusername

liked by patooward, mclaren and 3,728,912 others

yourusername south africa my baby, it’s been amazing 🇿🇦

view comments

landonorris take me back (we’re checking out of Four Seasons)

danielricciardo and what about your gf that you met? 🤨

landonorris she’s coming to the next race 🫡

maxverstappen33 three wins and that’s it

yourusername do you want me to tell on you to my mom?

maxverstappen33 no 😨

charles_leclerc i need another kota

alexandrasaintmleux we’re actually shaking for one right now

yourusername askies 🤣 sorry

loganseargent never thought i’d ever be an avid lover of amapiano

user what multiverse are we in that Logan, the most american person to ever exist, is saying this

user it’s the South Africa effect baby 😝🇿🇦

lewishamilton can we come here every winter break?

carlossainz55 can we please? all my joy is at Gold Reef City

alex_albon i just want her mother’s cooking again, changed my life

f1 y/n, what did you do to our drivers

yourusername if you add kyalami to the calendar, you’ll know 😚

lilymhe someone gave me a painting of you and i will be hanging it in my home

francisca.cgomes to complete the shrine

landonorris to our Sugar Mother Y/n

yukitsunoda i got all the recipes, i’m ready

yourusername we need 20 kotas stat! 🫵🏽

oscarpiastri even your money looks so cool 😭

user if this is not the greatest representation of our country, i don’t know what it is

mercedesamgf1 can we join next time? 😔

yourusername no

tyla I LOVE YOU

yourusername I LOVE YOUUUU

-

saint’s notes: ahhhhhh hope y’all enjoyed! mwah 😝 i tried but it feels sorta rushed?? idk, let me know

[costelloschoice]

General Mizu headcanons -Mizu x fem!reader -sfw and nsfw headcanons + my thoughts :], kinda long? but aye, more content -pls, reminder these are my takes, and I would love to hear your in the comments <3

-comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

Sfw:

took her awhile to open up fully to you. Like about everything- probably hide her fav food from you too

speaking of food, she probably is a terrible cook and would love if you can cook for her

I can imagine Mizu burning a pot of water

I tried to do my research and look into this, but I think Mizu is about 5'4

if you're shorter than her, she'll definitely have a confidence boost and feel she has to protect you always- she already does but...you're short and tiny...so she must

If you're taller, she's putty in your hands when you two are alone but she will still kick someone's ass for you

If you're not trained in the martial arts or any good with swords, she'll teach you

If Mizu is teaching you before you two are official, she'll be rougher and stricter with her teaching. She wants you to be the best and have a good chance to learn to protect yourself

Now if she is teaching you after you two are dating, she'll still be strict but definitely a bit more gentle

"Do it again...You almost had it, try again I know you can do this"

Nicknames for you? I feel she would mostly call you by your name, but she would also call you "my pearl" or "my dove"

Pls play with her hair plsplsplsplsplsplspls

She's a sucker for a massage due to her battles and training but only from you

but!!!!!

The first time you saw her without her male persona/ identity sent her in panic mode. You knew her as this strong, tough masculine man...but here you are, happening to stumble upon her wearing nothing and seeing her...lady parts

She already started to develop feelings for you by that time and so have you, but at the knowledge you think she's a boy. Gay stuff is already a 'no-no' to a lot of people, so would it be a 'no-no" for you??

of course not- doesn't matter if they're male or female, it's still Mizu at the end of the day

once you accept her, she truly feels seen for once

This woman will and always lay down her life for you.

She'd probably die then come back to life for you cause she loves you that much

I do feel she would be distant in the beginning. We all know how her last marriage went...She doesn't want to be hurt again

Once you show her you're in for the long run, she'll become lovable and clingy

LET HER BE FEMININE PLS PLS

She barely got to explore her feminine side with Mikio (rat bastard) cause of what happened

Dress her up and make her feel pretty <3

I have a feelign she can be really childish when comfortable with you- play wrestle with her to burn off some energy

She will want to duel with you, but never lets it go too far

If she ever pulls that same shit she did with Mikio, and she has the sword to your throat...I feel she will get flashbacks and get nervous how you'll react

but is soon pulled out of those memories when you laugh and say she wins and you kiss her <3

Nsfw

now the yummy part lol

IDC SHE'S A SWITCH

no one will change my mind, no one could ever think of changing my mind

In the Edo period of Japan, sex toys were there to use and have fun. Now, I actually looked it up and ruined my web history for this because of the shunga I saw

STRAP ON- either Mizu using it on you or you using it on her, either way it's a good time

She definitely can and will be rough and dominate. She's used to be taking control to getting what she wants

Doesn't mean she can't be soft and sensual, you are her love after all, and sex is something for both to enjoy. She would love to just be soft with you

She will spank that ass, idc

Now, like I said, I actually looked a lot of this stuff up...

Double sided dildo for the both of you to use. For her, it's almost embarrassing cause you are seeing her reactions but she also LOVES this since it's so intimate to her, so hold her hand while you two do it

Going off the last one, I feel she would be trying to cover her face or her mouth sometimes...don't let her

With that one episode, we know she's loud and her eyes roll back...it's canon...so hit her with that dumb dick and make her roll her eyes back

Tie her up...that's all

Her fingers are long and slender, good for fingering your cunt and rubbing your clit

Loves having you in her lap and fingering you late at night, especially if there are other people around. Gives her the chance to cover your mouth and whisper in your ear to tease you

"You like that?...You like the fact anyone could catch us right now, and they'd see my fingers fucking this pussy..?”

Dw you'll give her the same treatment

When you finger her, she's whiny, holding onto your other hand tightly

Praise her breast- whether you have bigger breast or not, still show love to her peaches

Kiss them, suck on them, whatever..love on them

I don't think she would ever consider sharing you with another person like ever

I can imagine her talking a big game, but your first time? She’s a wreck, she wants everything to be perfect

Yeah technically she's not a virgin but she doesn't want to mess anything up with you

Favorite position? I think she likes taking you in missionary but likes to be bent over when she subbing

After you give her sum backshots, pls give her the softest aftercare

She will be clingy after, so let her cling to you like a koala

In the end, Mizu is the best girlfriend boyfriend ever <3

[something-ricked-this-way-comesx]

Dick Prime

Warnings: (18+ only minors DNI), NSFW, 5k word count, fem reader, self- insert OC character, daddy kink, p in v, rick prime with feelings, big dick Rick, degradation a bit, rough sex, praise kink, marking kink, choking, orgasms, cream-pie, fingering, nipple play, manhandling, calling him God, age gap I guess

Hi guys, this is an excerpt chapter from a Rick Sanchez fan fic I have been working on - thought I'd share a little taste on here and see if I could get any feedback. This chapter in particular follows my self-insert, Aurora as she is kidnapped by Rick Prime - enjoy :) If y'all would like me to post and share my other chapters pls reblog or comment 💜

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

 I woke up in a unfamiliar place٫ my head pounding viscously as my eyes struggled to adjust to the room around me. This place kind of looked like some sort of space motel room٫ but I couldn't remember a thing from the last 12 drunken hours of my life - I clearly needed to dial back my drinking or just not let Rick bet he can out drink me. I’ve never won that challenge. He really does have the hardest working liver in the universe, that's for damn sure. I wondered if he was feeling the same٫ but I doubted he was even remotely feeling hungover since he was used to getting black-out drunk on the regular. 

I flicked my wrist out٫ wanting to portal into Rick’s shoddy bedroom where I could crawl into his sad excuse of a bed (which was really just a small sized cot) with him so that he could hold me tightly while we slept. That plan was quickly cut as I noticed my portal bracelet was no longer on my wrist and it was no where to be found anywhere near me - what the fuck was going on?

Then I realized where I was - the realization smacking me hard in the face like a fucking freight train. The elaborate sci-fi technical patterns covering every square inch of this room should have been a dead give away from the second I laid eyes on it٫ but I was obviously still too inebriated to use my cognitive functions correctly. I was in what I was 95% sure was Rick Prime’s lair - that fucking cocksucker. How had he managed to find me? Much less find a way to lure me back to where he's been hiding this whole time.

As I was taking in every inch of the room in search of any kind of weapon, maybe even some sort of weird sci-fi button on a wall that I could press and magically find a way out of here under Prime’s nose, I suddenly heard a voice behind me٫ the sound striking me so hard I jumped.

“Great you’re awake٫ care to join me for breakfast?” Prime’s voice asked as he nonchalantly yet menacingly stood in the doorway of the room٫ his shoulder leaning up against the doorframe.

“Oh fuck you!” I spit٫ words coming out of my mouth coated in venom like I was a snake ready to strike.

“Like you have a choice. It’s funny that you thought you did. Let's get something straight٫ you’re mine now٫ so it's best you learn early that you WILL do as I say or there will be consequences.”

“What do you even want from me? Wasn’t killing Diane enough for you?”

“Of course it wasn't٫ but you're not here so I can kill you unfortunately. You’re here because do you know how rare you are?” He paused٫ walking forward into the room causing me to back up back onto the bed like a frightened little mouse. Damn, his presence was so intense. He started pacing a bit٫ back and forth٫ arms crossed across his chest as he did so. He turned to me and looked me directly into my eyes before he started speaking again.

“Every conceivable Rick in the universe would happily serve their own balls on a platter for a little taste of what you have to offer - this makes you especially interesting to me. Not only are you one sexy piece of ass٫ you are a Rick’s gateway to so much unlocked potential.”

“Excuse me?” 

“If ‘wife guy’ was smart he would have stolen your research from you a long time ago. Do you know how long it took for me to find you? It makes me horny just thinking about all that untapped knowledge you have floating around in that brain of yours.”

 “Anything my Rick wanted from me he got because he asked for it. Sorry٫ but I don’t barter for things I created especially not to a sci-fi douchebag like you.”

“No one said anything about bartering. I’m simply going to take what I need via brain scan and then you’re going to put out like a good little girl because when in Rome.”

“My Rick is going to kill you ya know? You’ve taken enough from him and he isn’t going to let you take me too.”

“I’ve avoided him this long and clearly he hasn't learned his lesson yet. I’ve recreated the omega device and this time it can fire more than once٫ I’ll wipe out his entire family line he comes anywhere close to me. I’d kill you too if you weren't so valuable - you should be lucky that a guy like me finds any interest in anyone but himself.”

“You might think that you have me right where you want me٫ but I’m gonna enjoy watching my Rick kill you when he finds you and if you’re lucky maybe we’ll have sex next to your corpse.” I said٫ my words carrying through the air like poison coursing through my vascular system.

It probably wasn’t in my best interest to be taunting Prime the way I was٫ but I refused to let this son of a bitch have it easy especially when it was his dumb ass decision to kidnap me. He knew my Rick was looking for him and he knew he was getting close hence why he even bothered making such an elaborate take on his own already ‘overkill’ device. All that brain and this motherfucker couldn’t grasp the fact that killing peoples’ loved ones doesn’t really warrant being left alone. 

“You think I couldn’t just take you right here if I wanted to? I’d bend you over that table and destroy that tight little pussy of yours and I just might considering you have no idea when to shut that bitch mouth of yours.” He grabbed me by the throat as he said that٫ squeezing the sides of my neck hard as he pulled me up and close to him. If I didn’t hate this Rick - I would have thought this interaction was so hot٫ too bad it was Prime.

“I’d like to see you try.” I said before spitting in his face٫ which in hindsight might have been a mistake٫ but it was too late to take it back.

Prime still had me by the neck٫ but he sighed heavily before shoving me onto the floor - catching myself on my hands before I hit the ground. 

“Don’t even bother trying to use any of your cybernetics - I put a lock on all of your tech and good luck putting up much of a fight without it.” 

---------- 2 weeks later —--------

   Over the few weeks that I had been here٫ regardless of how much of an asshole Prime was٫ no matter what it was that I needed or asked (within reason) for he was quick to give it to me. He didn’t appreciate any of my back talk and if I overstepped too far he did with hold things from me as a punishment٫ but for the most part it seemed like his intentions with me weren’t entirely evil - something I not only found puzzling٫ but very difficult to believe was actually genuine.

I pushed the limits of what he would allow a little bit further everyday٫ hoping to gain his trust so that I would be able to either escape or find someway to get a message to my Rick. I still wasn't exactly sure where we even were in relation to the universe - the curve - or maybe we were outside it? It was hard to know with the very little freedom within this elaborate sci-fi base that I was allowed. The most I could do while here was think - run through multiple plans and assess the probability of success rate to each plan I thought of. Most٫ if not every٫ plan I had managed to conjure up was far from impervious to any snags or complete failure given then sheer innate ability of Rick Prime to always somehow be 10 steps ahead. 

Today felt different though٫ I couldn't explain it٫ but as I sat across from him eating the breakfast that he had prepared for me - I could feel a different kind of tension in the air.

“Do you want to know why exactly you’re so special٫ Aurora?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me even if I say no, so why the hell not?”

I was pushing around my eggs with my fork now٫ waiting patiently for his response. He kept telling me how ‘rare’ and ‘special’ I was to his grand design٫ but no matter how often he brought this up (which felt like constantly)٫ he refused to tell me how and why. Until now that is٫ which also struck me as weird.

“In order for you to even exist at all٫ Diane had to die you know? You’re familiar with the big bang I assume?”

“Nah٫ I just have a PhD in Quantum Physics for absolutely no reason at all - in fact٫ I just printed it off the internet completely fabricated credentials.” I said٫ the sarcasm clear in my tone as I spoke - I ran the risk of him punishing me for doing so٫ but he was usually lenient with my sarcasm since it matched his overt cynicism. It was my sharp tongue for disrespect and foul insults that really got under his skin.

“Well when I created the omega device to wipe out Diane٫ I didn't think to solve for any kinds of ripple effect that it might cause.”

“Meaning what exactly?”

“Well not completely unlike the big bang - the destruction of Diane’s life across infinity somehow resulted in the cataclysm that created X-258.”

“You’re saying you're responsible for me even existing? How is that even possible? Rapid succession in an inflationary epoch?”

“Precisely - well said. This means that without my omega device٫ you wouldn’t exist. How do you think ‘'wife guy” is going to react when he finds out that I literally made his new slam piece?”

“If you’re even telling the truth٫ which I suppose it is possible therefore also equally not possible by association. I guess given the rightly distribution of a negligible density gradient in order to deter the collapse into just a black hole and taking into consideration cosmic acceleration - I can’t disprove your theory٫ but that doesn’t mean you aren’t just bullshitting me right now.”

“As much as I love bullshitting and torturing other Rick’s for my own amusement٫ this is as real as real gets Aurora. You are only here because Diane had to die. You’re welcome and I’ll be accepting all forms of payment as a thank you٫ especially sexual favors.” 

“Wow٫ so my whole life is a lie - imagine that.” 

“You don’t seem too deeply affected by this revelation?”

“Did you expect me to lose my mind over a random occurring cosmological event? There was no way you knew your elimination of Diane would result in the formation of a universe that randomly produced me - so you did something by accident which is literally how 80% of all scientific findings usually occur. You aren’t special or interesting just because you managed to create a random event in spacetime - I do appreciate your massive need to milk your ego about it though.” 

“Spoken like a true Rick - which you are as far as I’m concerned. The most intriguing out of any possible iteration.”

“So what exactly about that makes me so valuable to you?”

“Other than the fact that ‘'wife guy” loves you٫ according to my advanced research using your brain scans and blood and tissue samples٫ I should be able use both to develop the infinite Rick serum which would make me immortal. I’m not referencing no low grade cybernetic٫ tech bullshit either. I’m talking real٫ invincible immortality. An actual God with the power to create and destroy whatever and whoever I want - 100% unstoppable.”

“Wow٫ who could have possibly guessed that the power hungry evil٫ emo٫ sci-fi Rick with a nondescript haircut would want something so nuanced and lame? If you’re immortal that kind of takes away from the pay off does it not? Not that doing anything honorably is a concern of yours of course.”

“So what do you think about giving your input on something for me?”

“Once again - why bother even asking if you’re just going to make me do it anyways?”

“I guess to give you the illusion of free will or just maybe I kind of like you - don’t get a big head about it though I would still kill you without a second thought if I ever needed to.” 

“Okay what exactly am I giving my input on?”

“I feel it may be best to just show you - meet me in the lab after you’ve finished your breakfast. Don’t keep me waiting long, it won’t end well for you.”

I rolled my eyes at his threatening tone as he got up from the table and left the room, I don’t know why I was so attracted to Prime the way I was - especially after what he did to my Rick, but I came to the ultimate conclusion that it was because him and my Rick were indeed so similar. The two Rickest Ricks in all of the infinite number of Rick’s that existed - the only two Rick’s to actually invent portal travel. In a way, my Rick only existed the way he did because of Prime’s destruction of his simple, domestic life. Prime was literally just my Rick without any sense of moral obligation and no matter how much I tried to convince myself that this fucker was bad and that I needed to distance myself - I simply couldn’t. I felt like my dna was so entangled up in having love for Rick that despite Prime’s obvious evil, I still loved him for simply just being a version of Rick. How fucked was that? Jesus fucking Christ - I needed out of here and soon before I really fucked up.

I finished my breakfast and headed out of the kitchen and into Prime’s elaborate sci-fi laboratory - this guy never did anything subtle that was for fucking sure and his attention to detail was absolutely infallible. He had something pulled up on the screen above where he was sitting and the closer I got, the more my eyes focused on the image. It was an image of me with a younger Rick, my Rick and Birdperson when we were together as freedom fighters on Glap-Flaps Third Moon. The Battle of Blood Ridge - this image was obviously a snapshot taken from my mind when Prime brain scanned me, but I didn’t really understand its significance to him. But, I’m sure he was going to tell me even if I didn’t exactly care to know.

“Blood Ridge?” I questioned, my arms crossed across my chest as I approached his sitting form and stood beside him to wait for his response.

“Seems like Nietzsche wasn’t totally blowing smoke out of his ass when he said that whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster -”

“And if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back at you. What does Nietzsche have to do with Blood Ridge?” I cut him off by finishing the Friedrich Nietzsche quote he was referring to.

“Well I’m so glad you asked Aurora…” He started as he pulled up a replay of Rick and I’s interaction with Birdperson after the Battle had been won. I watched the playback intently, hoping to see something within my own memory that maybe I hadn’t noticed before in order to try to put together a theory of where exactly Prime was going with this. 

-Playback from ‘Aurora’s Memory’ initiated-

Memory Rick: “Damn that shit was cash.”

Bird Person: “It was extremely bad ass. The Battle of Blood Ridge is over. The Federation lost. I am in your debt.”

Memory Rick: “Come with us.”

Bird Person: “To somewhere…nearby?”

Memory Rick: “Anywhere. E-Everywhere.”

Bird Person: “Rick, Aurora, I don't expect you guys to keep fighting, but this war is…”

Aurora: “Far from over…we know.”

Memory Rick: “Dude, we share this with almost nobody, but we could take you right now to this same battlefield, in a universe where we lost, or another where we won, or another where the war never even happened. All equally real, all equally unreal. None of it matters.”

Bird Person: “Then why did you help?”

Memory Rick: “Because I respect you. And I wanted you to know you could respect me.”

Bird Person: “Even though nothing matters?”

Memory Rick: “Okay. You matter... to me.”

Bird Person: “Uh, the relationship that we have…”

Memory Rick: “I NEVER used that word!”

Bird Person: “... is not worth my integrity…”

Memory Rick: “Oh, my God. It's not a complicated transaction, my man. "Would you like to join me doing awesome shit that matters?" "No, I would not. I would rather be a judgmental dork." Case closed. Really no need to drag it out.”

Bird Person: “If you need me, use the beacon.”

Memory Rick: “Yeah, I'm gonna use that beacon a lot. I hope... hope I don't wear it out. Come on Aurora, lets get the fuck out of here.”

—- Playback Finalized —--

“Okay, so what exactly does my memory of Bird Person rejecting my Rick have anything to do with you?”

“Seems allegorical in relation to how Diane died don’t you think? His rejection of me, Bird Person’s rejection of him, you either die a hero or see yourself live long enough to become the villain.” 

“Are you trying to suggest to me that my Rick has essentially turned into you? I hope you’re not because that would be absolutely nonsensical.”

“You see Aurora, your Rick isn’t all he’s cracked up to be either. He’s murdered hundreds if not thousands of innocent Ricks, he’s manipulated a version of our adult daughter to get a divorce, he sells weapons to hit men and other criminals, he Cronenberged my original dimension and left my daughter, my granddaughter and my Jerry behind to rot in a world that he ruined, he exploited and threatened to destroy a microverse that he created to control his fucking car, and the worst possible one he trapped all the people in his original reality into an endless mental time loop while their bodies still grew old. Your Rick isn’t and never was the saint you believe him to be - so why hate me for something so small in the grand scheme of things?”

“You’re literally the reason why he did most of that. I don’t think my Rick is a saint, I think he’s a sad, broken man who is trying his best to continue on in his life after losing the very thing he used to live for. What makes my Rick so different from you is his capability to feel and connect to human emotion - his wild callousness is just a front so he doesn’t have to feel the pain his life radiates. He has surpassed you in so many ways, but he will NEVER be the monster you are because he is capable of changing. You know nothing about him and even sitting here under the guise that you do is ridiculous. You will never be him and he will NEVER be you.”

“You’d defend him even if he was the one who killed your husband wouldn’t you?”

“My husband died because you killed Diane - because you accidentally created X-258 where my husband was killed in a freak fucking accident. To even insinuate such an asinine thought is in bad taste even for you. If anything, you’d be indirectly responsible for the death of my husband, big fucking shocker there.” 

“How would your husband feel if he knew you gave up on him to be with Rick?”

“My husband has been gone for 25 years, Prime and I loved him dearly when he was alive, but Rick, my Rick, is the love of my life. I don’t have to explain ‘love’ to you especially because you are literally incapable of ever fucking getting it. Killing your wife across infinity because some alternate versions of yourself pissed you off? The mother of your daughter - you have some fucking nerve.”

I was angry now, my words slicing into Prime’s direction like a knife and he was clearly getting upset with my tone towards him. I don’t know exactly what his end goal with me was - he had my blood and tissue samples, he had my brain scans. Why not just let me go or kill me if he got what he had said he wanted? Then it hit me. Prime was in love with me. A man that I had labeled as so incapable of feeling had some sort of feelings for me - what a fucking mind fuck that was to take in. I had made myself speechless as I waited patiently for him to say something to either confirm or deny my theory, but he said nothing so I spoke once more.

“You love me, don’t you? You have feelings for me.”

His silence after I said that was deafening and he quickly stood up from his place in his chair to grab my face in his hands roughly and smash his lips to mine. I knew it. He kissed me so roughly that I barely even had time to react, but once I was finally able to comprehend what was happening, I deepened the kiss. I was actually enjoying this despite how fucking wrong my moral compass knew that it was. He pulled away from me gently, his blue eyes looking me dead in mine before he said in a very demanding, yet hot, tone;

“Strip for me.”

And I did exactly as I was told.

—----------

 His hand bent around the curvature of my neck brushing it softly as he continued to walk around me٫ his other hand finding my breasts and taking a nipple into his free hand subtly. He rubbed the nub between his thumb and forefinger as he continued to eye me up and down with an obvious hunger in his eyes٫ his other hand snaking down my body slowly till it found rest on my hip gently pulling me to him as he did so. 

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered٫ his eyes glued to my chest as he spoke eloquently.

He was still fully clothed٫ but I was determined to change that - I reached forward and begun unzipping his jacket٫ him allowing it to fall to the floor as I pushed it off his shoulders. I found the hem of his long sleeve next٫ my hands creeping slowly underneath to touch his warm skin and my god his skin felt like I was touching pure electricity the more my fingers danced over his adorable blue happy trail to find a home on his belt buckle. I began undoing it roughly٫ pulling his belt through the loops in his jeans and throwing it elsewhere. I unbuttoned his jeans with my hands٫ quickly slipping my fingers under the waistband of his boxers where I longed to have his dick pressed up against any part of me.

I smirked up at him as I pulled him even closer to my naked body٫ his hands wrapping around me in all the right ways as I felt his extremely hard member pressing into one my thighs now. The length and the girth simply drove me insane as I continued to work diligently to undress him. He suddenly grabbed the back of my head with enough force to crash my lips to his٫ our lips melding together perfectly and I couldn’t help٫ but let out a small moan in favor of his wicked foreplay. The more he touched and teased me٫ the more I desperately wanted to beg him to just destroy me right there. I was so fucked. Fucking Prime. What was I doing? At this point I was too far gone to care - I wanted him and I wanted him BAD.

  I pushed his black jeans down past his jutted hip-bones٫ them falling down his tall stature to pool at his feet before he stepped out of them and led me back up against the wall. His fingers left my breasts٫ trailing down until they reached the very top of my mound - him allowing a single digit to pass between my folds to feel the abundance of wetness that I had increasing with each moment between my legs. 

“So wet for me already٫ such a horny girl for any Rick aren’t you?” He licked his lips as he pulled away from mine to speak٫ him looking me dead in the eyes as he said that - the lust obvious in his gorgeous icy blue eyes. 

“You have no idea how much I long for you to absolutely destroy me.” I whispered back٫ my fingers grappling the side of his boxers before pushing them off of him in one swift motion that now left him vulnerable and naked in front of me like I had been this entire time and ugh was it so worth the wait. 

Prime had so many scars littering his whole body٫ adding a sense of mystery and a hot toughness to his already sexy body. I felt guilty that I was about to do this٫ but he was still a Rick whether he was evil or not and holy fuck did his extreme callousness and his “I don’t give a single fuck” attitude turn me on even more. I was like putty in Prime’s hands right now and he was loving it. 

“I think I have a pretty good concept٫ but you have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are. If I could٫ I would put you on display so that everyone could see me destroy a perfect little pussy like yours. Holy fuck.” 

“You want to fuck me in front of spectators?”

“I want them to revel in jealousy over how I get to be buried in a perfect little thing like you.”

“They should be jealous of me too٫ getting to be a good little cock sleeve for your perfect and massive cock. I love the way you feel pressed against my thigh right now٫ I almost can’t fucking take it.” I whispered in his ear٫ rolling my hips so that I brushed myself up against his rock hard penis - it almost jumping after me over the sudden sensation. 

“Mmm what a good girl٫ stroking daddy Prime’s ego. I think it's high time I reward you for such good and filthy behavior.” 

He grabbed me harshly by the hips and lifted me till I was straddling his waist with my back up against the wall as he placed himself at my entrance. He parted me gently with the head of his dick before slamming into me so aggressively that I cried out as I felt him ram into my cervix hard as he stroked my g-spot on the way there.

“Oh my god.” I panted٫ holding on to him with a death grip around his neck and my fingers tangling in his powder blue hair as he continued to thrust up into me skillfully. 

“That’s right darling٫ I am your god.” He said٫ his lips attacking my neck and jawline with an abundance of sloppy kisses - him using his teeth to mark me however he wanted. The sweet feeling of the slight pain driving me crazy as I held onto him tighter - slowly rocking my hips in tandem with his getting a small moan from him in return as I bounced on his cock dexterously.

“It’s like universe literally created you just for me٫ the way your pussy just grips the absolute fuck out of my dick. Fuuck Aurora٫ no fucking wonder why “wife guy” is so obsessed with you٫ you take dick like a fucking champ.” 

“It's not hard when Rick’s have such dynamite dick game - I’ve never ever been disappointed by a Rick sexually.” I purred٫ gripping tufts of his hair and pulling hard enough to hear him moan against my skin. 

“Is that so, mmm you were so worth the wait.”

“I want you to come in me so hard that you see fucking stars, baby.” I growled in his ear as he continued to fuck me hard up against the wall, one of arms on the side of me bracing himself and his other hand was wrapped around my neck holding me to the wall tightly. I hadn’t noticed before now, but his ‘6,5” frame had me up in the air so high, holy shit - I felt like I was practically floating off of the ground at this moment. Damn the sex was good. 

He soon moved his arm against the wall in order to place his long, lanky fingers on my clit, abusing the nub gently as he continued to go in and out of me. He was watching his dick as he pumped his hips, a smirk plastered on his handsome face as he was enjoying watching his dick disappear inside of me with each thrust. I was moaning loudly now, thankful that we were basically in the middle of nowhere in space because I could have probably awoken a whole cemetery.

“That’s it baby, come for me.”

I could feel that he was close and my eyesight was starting to get blurry the faster his fingers worked to bring me closer to my own climax. 

“Oh my god - Prime - I’m - ahhhhhh Rick.” I moaned out as he pushed me over the edge, my pussy pulsating around his dick as he also released into me, burying his face into my shoulder as we rode out the highs of our climaxes together. Both of us sweaty messes as we tried diligently to try and catch our breaths from that  absolutely intense workout we had just finished.

Fuck. I seriously just fucked Rick Prime. Fuck. 

What had I done?

If you enjoyed this please give the full fan fiction a read - UPDATES EVERY WEEK - 💚

[myownwholewildworld]

wherever you go (a joel miller’s ff) - chapter 6

chapter 5 | series masterlist | main masterlist | chapter 7

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now)

summary: after months in the wilderness, you finally arrive at chicago. adapting to this new life has its cons, but also its perks. joel's birthday is around the corner, and you have planned for a couple of things you hope he likes...

a/n: hiya! here's chapter six!! it's packed with a bit of everything, especially drama because why not? 🤷 i want to thank you all ― i just realised that the first 3 chapters have hit over 100 notes each! i'm so damn grateful to all of you, honestly. as much as i'm writing for myself, i'm loving how hooked some of you are with this story 😳 also, i'd like to apologise in advance if i have butchered chicago's layout or its history, i did try my best doing some research. as always, thank you all for engaging. i do appreciate any comments, reblogs and/or likes you may want to leave! even asks/requests if you want to! take care lovelies <3 x

warnings: 18+, mdni. mention of Sarah's death. angst. fluff. filthy smut (don't you know me by now?). porn with plot or plot with porn (however you wanna look at it). irresponsible use of contraception (don't do that). consensual somnophilia. dry humping. unprotected piv. masturbation (m and f). creampie. pussy slapping. fisting. squirting. cum play. a bit of assplay. makeup sex. sir kink. “bar” fight. alcohol consumption. blood. stabbing. swear words. mention of past racist events and the precursor to the chicago race riot of 1919. soft!dom!joel. a bit of aftercare. pet names (darlin’, sweetheart). i'm sure i'm forgetting something lol. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is now 37 (🎉!). no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.

w/c: ~6.9k.

tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!): @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981 @fancyyoouu @smolbeanzzz

Chicago was definitely not what you had expected at all. Shit had gone down really badly in this place. It took you a week to cross the southwest area, keeping close to Interstate 55 as a reference. The worst you had seen was Chicago Midway International Airport. Airplanes had crashed on the runway, the esplanade was a makeshift cemetery even almost a year after Outbreak Day. Bodies piled on top of each other, fires would break out in the adjacent buildings. The control tower was completely dilapidated. And the grounds were full of clickers.

Tommy, Joel and you made it through the worst neighbourhoods. As you covered more miles, Tommy and Joel realised that this had not been the best idea. But you were already there, so the best option was to move forward. You all had to defend yourselves, and each other. Although the Miller brothers took out many attackers ―humans and infected alike―, you also had your good share of action. You didn’t like it, but you were good at shooting. Your clothes were stained with blood and sweat. You endured, and you survived. That was what mattered.

The whole city was in shambles, divided by two different groups: the government and the rebels. The government held the north side of the Chicago River, from River North Gallery District all the way to Old Town ― basically everything to the east of Interstate 90. The rebels, on the other hand, controlled the south ― all the movable bridges along the whole Wacker Drive, from New Eastside to Chinatown. Anything further south or north, and between Interstates 55 and 90, from Little Village to Naperville, was no man’s land.

You ended up on the rebels’ side randomly. Tommy was not very happy about it, blaming the communists for overpowering the government, but it wasn’t like you had a choice. If you tried to cross any bridge to go northwards, you would be shot at with no warning. From both sides.

It took a while to convince the Rioters ― that was how the rebels called themselves. Two weeks later, on the 20th of August, you were given a place to stay near the Art Institute of Chicago, which was also the operations base. You did try to integrate yourself in this society as you knew it was better to have more friends than foes. The Millers, however, kept to themselves ― Joel more than Tommy, as you had expected. No surprises there.

The flat you were in was in urgent need of repairs but was better than sleeping rough. You and Joel fixed as many things as you both could, while Tommy took cleaning very seriously. It wasn’t much, but it was the place you called home for the last month. The only downside was that it only had two bedrooms, so Joel and you sadly had to share the only double bed available, while Tommy had his own room.

You wouldn’t lie to yourself ― the last four weeks had been pure bliss in a sense. Waking up every day besides Joel had become a delightful habit. He had awakened you many a times either in the middle of the night or in the early morning to give him a hand. Literally. And you had done exactly the same thing when you had needed it. You were sure Tommy was sick and tired of you two, but you didn’t care.

You stretched out, still lying in bed. The morning light had not come through the curtains yet, but it soon would. You rubbed your eyes and then let your arms drop to your sides dramatically. You were not a morning person, but your sleeping schedule was all fucked up. You rolled to your other side in an attempt to get comfortable.

Joel was sleeping on his right side. You had noticed he usually did in the same position. When you had asked him why, he had explained his hearing in his right ear was messed up since his suicide attempt. You wished you could have been faster that day to prevent the gun from going off. Ah, the regrets you both had…

His back was towards you, him facing the door. Despite the repairs you all had done to the flat, it was still not the safest. Every night one of you would make sure all locks were engaged and would bar the front door. A few days ago, someone attempted to break in. Since then, all of you would sleep with a firearm nearby.

Today was Sunday ― 26th of September. Which meant it was Joel’s birthday, as well as the first anniversary of Outbreak Day. The anniversary of Sarah's death would be tomorrow too. You had tried to talk to Joel about today, but he didn’t seem to be interested in celebrating at all, which you completely understood. As much as you wanted to do something, you respected his decision. You had only planned for a couple of low-key things, which you hoped he wouldn’t mind.

He had fallen asleep only with his briefs on, the bedsheet draping around his legs. You couldn’t see, but you were damn sure he had his arms crossed at his chest, always on guard. Your eyes dwelled on his upper body, two perfect dimples on his lower back. His shoulders were broad and toned, his waist smaller. He was not the most muscular guy you had ever seen, but he was perfect the way he was. His calloused hands had shown you multiple times how good he was for you, despite what he thought of himself.

You couldn’t resist, your mouth dry. Your fingertips traced the curve of his neck, then his left shoulder down to his elbow. Your hand caressed his left hip and slipped down to his front, following his V line. Your fingers touched the elastic of his briefs ― and something else.

You gulped down the knot in your throat, your heart beating harder in your chest, when your fingertips brushed over the damp tip of his cock. Joel’s morning wood was so prominent, his glans had slipped out of his underwear and was showing. You wetted your lips as you stroked him carefully. A deep, almost guttural growl flowed from Joel’s chest.

You got closer to him in bed, your nipples grazing the skin on his back even through your pyjamas. It probably wasn’t the best time ― you knew he was tired, but you wanted him so badly. Liquid fire was pooling in your furrow, knowing his erection was right there for you to play with.

Your internal battle didn’t last long.

You pulled down his briefs to free his warm dick. You didn’t need to look to know his shaft was resting against his happy trail, the head touching his belly button. With no hesitation, you wrapped your fingers around his cock, squeezing him delicately. Then you slid your hand down his meaty column, holding him firmly, in a very slow but strong pump.

He groaned, still asleep as far as you could tell, as you started pumping him ― more heat and excitement gathering in your pussy. You dunked your fingers in your panties, touching yourself. You were already wet, the mere thought of making him yours was enough. You kissed his left shoulder at the same time he uncrossed his arms ― his left hand over yours, feeling the rhythm you were imparting on him.

He was awake.

Joel didn’t remember what he was dreaming about, but he was sure it wasn’t this. When he looked down and saw your tiny hand trying to muffle his cock, he closed his eyes with a sigh. That felt damn good. He was knackered after last night’s patrolling shift, but this was exactly what he needed to decompress.

He turned around, his back flat against the uncomfortable mattress. His eyes were pinned on yours, your sweet hand upping the speed. You leaned towards him and invaded his mouth with your devilish tongue. Joel moaned in the middle of the kiss ― his brain completely switched off. He could not think straight when you were handling him like that.

Quickly letting go of his erection and mouth, you got rid of your pyjama shorts and your underwear. Then you doubled down your efforts with the handjob ― his throbbing cock was calling for you. You could see a few drops of precum sliding off his veiny shaft, which you swiftly gathered with your thumb to rub them against his leaking slit. You felt his dick pulsating hard for you ― your cunt palpitating at exactly the same time, anticipating. Your bodies were fully synchronised.

You then climbed on top of him, his balls welcoming the touch from your puffy lips. You rolled your hips against his, looking for that friction you so much loved, and took a deep breath before taking off the top of your pyjamas, throwing it to one side. You bended down, your mouth looking for his, so thirsty.

“Good morning, handsome”, you whispered as a greeting.

“Mhmmm”, was the only thing he managed to hum, sleepy.

You smiled and broke off the contact, straightening your back. His rough hands slid from your knees, across your thighs, to your butt. He clasped your ass cheeks with assertiveness. With no more words than those, you took his steely cock in your hand and lifted your hips. You glided his glans over your damp fold a few times, your cunt beseeching to be stuffed.

You guided his tip to kiss your entrance and descended on his dick slowly, very slowly, the palms of your hands flat against his lower abdomen to steady yourself. You closed your eyes, head tilted backwards, and whined loudly. Each inch was a blessing. Once his cock was entirely inside of you, you peeked back down at him and did a circular motion with your hips. His eyes were so intense you couldn’t look away while you started riding him.

Joel closed his eyes unwillingly when the muscles in his lower belly cramped. He didn’t want to miss a single second of this, so forced himself to open them again ― he loved seeing how the pleasure transformed your beautiful features. Your half-lidded eyes, your lips parted, a river of pearly sweat coming down in between your bosom. Your perfectly round breasts bouncing in front of him. He was a lucky bastard.

He liberated your ass, his hands drifting to your bust, holding your tits. While he kneaded that tender flesh and coddled your nipples, you covered his hands with yours. You were still jumping on top of him, albeit more erratically, as you felt an orgasm hit you with full force. You mewled as your needy pussy discharged the seed of your pleasure all over him, hugging his hard erection, strangling his cock, encouraging him to come with you.

Joel was so damn close to coming, his nuts contracted with equal parts of pain and lust. He could feel your gush soaking his dick. He was about to lose his goddamn mind ― he needed to stop. His hands abandoned your breasts to place them on your butt to help you lift it up, so you would release his cock before it was too late.

“No, it’s okay. Fill me up, please, sir”, you wailed, your palms against his chest, your hips grinding against his.

Joel glimpsed at you with doubt. It was like you could read his mind, because you knew what he was thinking. You smiled softly, your wet pussy palpitating around his cock. You forced your inner walls to contract against him as you leaned forward to kiss him.

“I’ve got the morning after pill. Please, please, Joel, come inside, I beg you. Trust me”, you wept, laying down on top of him.

He thought himself mad for believing you, but he did. Because he was mad for you, regardless of what he tried to convince himself of. He lifted your butt up off his lap with his hands ― with the help of his legs, the heels of his feet against the bedsheets, he thrusted into you like a madman while you remained still on top of him. Drilling your weeping cunt, as hard and fast as he could. He just wanted to know how it felt just once; he wanted you to milk him dry.

Joel fucked you like there was no tomorrow, the room echoing with the squishy sounds and the impact of flesh on flesh. He was fucking you so hard that you came again at the same time he spilled his spent in you ― Joel groaned like you never heard him before. The slick warmth you felt inside made you smile, your face buried in the curve of his neck, your nipples brushing his. With his pulsing dick still inside of you, you bit the skin on his neck, leaving a mark behind.

“Happy birthday, sir”, you whispered in his ear.

That was your gift to him. And to yourself, because you had wanted this from the very first time he impaled you in the forest. You had had to trade a few bits for the morning after pill, but it was worth every single one of them. You felt your cave so clogged with him and his cum, you thought you had descended to hell.

You both stilled, catching your breaths. His dick was still twitching, housed by your greedy, soaked cunt.

A minute later, he sat up on the bed, bit your mouth and lifted your butt up, his cock becoming free. He quickly laid you down in fetal position ― resting on your righthand side, back slightly curved, head bowed, your knees bent touching your breasts. He placed a hand on your left hip and tilted your pelvis a bit forward, so he could inspect your heart-shaped ass and your puffy, reddened pussy framed by your inner thighs.

Just in time to see his cum gushing out of your hole, dripping across your perineum and then going downwards, skidding through your butt cheek. One of his digits caught the semen before it hit the bedsheets, retraced its steps back and shoved the cum back inside of you with the push of his finger.

“You can’t waste my gift to you, baby, it’d be so fucking rude of you”, he purred in your ear, his voice coarse and warm at the same time.

He laid on his side behind you, moving his index in a circular motion, looking for your g-spot and finding it. He stroked it dextrously, sliding it in and out slowly. You closed your eyes, and fisted the bedsheet in your hand, trying to hold onto something. Your mouth shaped a perfect ‘O’ when he bottomed out, quickly adding a second finger. And a third. Then a fourth.

It didn’t take long for your pussy to adjust to such delightful intrusion ― your inner walls felt like clay, reshaping around him. Joel could feel you relax around his fingers and took the chance, introducing his thumb in your pussy too. Now his entire hand was buried in your fluttering cunt, down to his wrist. He remained still for a hot minute while your muscles loosened up to house him.

Then he slowly started to pump his fist inside of you, back and forth, building up a steady pace. Joel bit your shoulder and then kissed it ― his tongue tasting the saltiness of your sweat.

By that point you couldn’t stop moaning very loudly ― the whole building was probably listening to your whoring screams as Joel fisted you relentlessly with his whole hand. Each push propelling his cum further inside of you as if he wanted it to take. He was thrusting you so harsh, your entire body was rocking back and forth on the bed. He was fucking you senseless just with his hand ― and you were loving every single second of it.

Your sticky cunt couldn’t take it for much longer ― it was wet, pulsating, contracting, overstimulated, yearning… Your pussy literally was his, and only his. The orgasm had been building up for so long now that when you let it go, weeping at the top of your lungs, it hit you like a motherfucking truck. Your whole body went into shock while you squirted ― you were shaking due to the force of your own release. For fuck’s sake, you could barely breathe.

You whimpered again when he removed his hand and rubbed your wetness all over your delicate folds. Before you could form a coherent thought, he spanked you on your crotch so firmly it tingled ― you almost died and went to heaven right there and then, biting into the pillow underneath your head. He kept on slapping your quivering cunt until your sensitive clit twitched one last time with devastating pleasure, contracting your uterus so the last trickle of cum oozed out of you. He caught it with his thumb and brushed it gently against your asshole, caressing the tight ring, until you fully relaxed.

You sighed, unable to move. You even felt dizzy. Your limbs felt so limp you didn’t think you could sit up, so you just stayed there, melting against the bedsheets. You hadn’t realised your eyes had welled up until a few tears ran down your cheeks. Tears of complete, utter joy ― there was no other way of describing it.

You were so damn grateful for this man, you swore to yourself you would never let him go. You had been with others, but none of your sexual partners had been so fucking attentive. Joel would always make sure you were completely satisfied, without fail. And that said a lot about him.

You rolled onto your back to look at him, wiping away the tears with a satisfied smile and dreamy eyes. He was still lying down on his side, his elbow against the bed, his head resting on the palm of his hand. He returned your smile ― such gesture transforming his rugged face. So gorgeous it tugged at your heart.

“Y’know, it was supposed to be all the way around today ― me fucking you until you begged”, you confessed, although it was not a complaint.

He grinned, his hand possessively cupping your mound. You parted your legs slightly so he could massage your sensitive furrow. It felt so calming after all that pussy-slapping he gifted you with.

“As redundant as it sounds, plans rarely go according to plan, sweetheart”.

Understatement of the fucking year, you thought.

You just laughed while his hand was still kneading your sticky flaps. Joel kissed your forehead before he took out his hand from in between your legs, your damp, intimate skin being swept by the cold air.

“The morning after pill?”, he asked a minute later.

“I got it from Kelsey, it’s in date. Don’t panic, it’s okay. I have three days to take it. Which made me think… I don’t need to do it straight away, right?”, you glanced up at him, a wide smile on your lips.

“Mhmm, I mean, it would be a waste otherwise, I guess”, he replied, tucking a stray hairlock behind your ear. “But I need a minute here, darlin’. You work miracles, but even I have limits. Wait up”, he mumbled grumpily as he palmed his left wrist, and then got out of bed while he tucked away his member back in his briefs.

Joel headed towards the en-suite bathroom. He came back out only a few seconds later ― you could see panic in his eyes. You sat back up on the mattress quickly.

“What is it, Joel?”, you asked with worry, kneeling on the bed.

“My wristwatch, I can’t find it. I am sure I left it by the sink before I came to bed last night. I can’t lose it. I can’t”, he was now frantically searching his bedside table, panic growing in his tone.

You bit down your lip, because you knew where it was. In the drawer of your nightstand. You had taken it in the middle of the night because your second present was getting it repaired for him today.

“I have it”, you whispered, shrugging with an apologetic smile.

“What? Why?”, he approached you, extending his hand towards you, his tone so serious. “Give it back now”, he almost growled at you.

His reaction took you completely off guard. Why was he so possessive over a broken watch? Trying to understand the sudden change in Joel, you opened the drawer and took it out.

“I just wanted to get it fixed for you, as a gift”, you didn’t understand what was happening.

“You have not fixed it, have you?! Because if you have―”, he snatched it off your hand, inspecting it.

You frowned ― his attitude towards you was completely off. What the hell was going on?

“Don’t you dare touch my fucking things, is that clear?”, he snapped.

You looked at him blankly, speechless. Then your own temperament started to shimmer under the surface.

“Wow, wow, wow ― Calm the fuck down, Joel. It’s just a broken, useless watch―”, you stopped yourself because of his perplexed look.

“Shut up. It’s not just any watch. You don’t fucking understand”, he yapped.

“I would try and understand if you just fucking explained it to me?!”, you shouted at him while you got dressed. “What is your fucking problem, Joel? What’s up with that watch? I don’t read minds!”.

“Forget it”, he grumbled, strapping the watch to his wrist before putting his trousers on and grabbing a T-shirt, heading towards the door.

“That’s it? You just up and leave?”, you repressed the urge of throwing a pillow to his head.

“I’ve got stuff to do”, he muttered.

A few seconds later, you heard him opening the front door. Then he slammed it shut.

It was around lunchtime now and you had not seen Joel since this catastrophic morning. While you had the impression that Joel’s reaction was due to something he would not speak about, he had no fucking right to treat you that way. You were just trying to do something nice for him, that was all.

You walked through the main hallway of the Art Institute of Chicago. It was rammed with people running around ― some armed, some not. You didn’t think that humanity would prevail in big groups in such circumstances, but it did.

The Rioters had established some sort of order. People had tasks to do, everyone working together to build up a community. Chores were allocated according to people’s skills. Joel had been put on patrolling shifts, Tommy was helping with carpentry and other building jobs, and you were in the hunting group. As much as you hated pulling the trigger, you were a very good shot. All thanks to your good old Texan father.

You were on your way to check with the group if there were any plans of going out today when you got interrupted.

“Hey”, someone tapped you on the shoulder.

“What’s up, Joyce?”, you looked at the older woman when you turned around.

Joyce was around fifty five years of age, maybe more, and was the kindest soul you had ever met. She had welcomed you to Chicago like a mother a daughter. Joyce showed you around, explained how the Rioters worked and guided you in the right direction. Because as good as everything looked, there was still darkness lurking around.

She was also the best cook ever. Like, no jokes, she could transform a tasteless rabbit in the most flavourful stew your tastebuds had ever been in contact with.

“I just finished cooking, do you want some stew?”, she asked with a warm smile.

Your stomach growled at the mere idea.

“Fuck yeah”, you replied ― your duties could wait, surely.

“Watch your language, kiddo”, Joyce reprimanded you.

“Sorry, sorry”, all that time you spent with Joel was showing.

You followed her to the canteen and patiently waited for Joyce to pour some stew in a bowl. You then went with her to a table where more people were sat down. You didn’t know any of them, so Joyce introduced you. You were damn sure you weren’t going to remember one single name by the time you walked out the door.

“So, you’ve never heard the story of Eugene Williams?”, one of the men asked rhetorically to a younger fellow across the table, who shook his head in reply. “He was a black kid in 1919, when racial segregation was still in place here in Chicago. The summer of 1919 was so hot the kid wandered off to the white side of Chicago beach without realising. A man threw stones at him until the kid drowned and died. That was what ignited the Chicago Race Riot of 1919 ― and why we, the resistance, go by the Rioters”.

You listened to every word while you ate your meal. After hearing that explanation, many things made sense. Although they named themselves the Rioters, there were no riots in the streets ― actually, people seemed happy here, given the circumstances.

“That’s right, Walter, younger people need to learn about the past, so those mistakes are never repeated again”, said Joyce.

The conversation then moved on to present times, the people talking about the continuous fight against the so-called government.

Joel got the afternoon patrolling shift that day, which he thought was a killer, considering he did the night shift last night. But it was good in a sense ― it would keep his mind occupied. You had angered him so much this morning, it had set his mood for the rest of the day. The thought of you erasing that memory had maddened him so bad, he had to walk out before he said something he would later regret.

That watch was the only anchor chaining him to what little remained of his humanity. A gentle reminder of what could have been but wasn’t. Every day he wondered how Sarah would be doing in this new world. And most days, he was just somewhat grateful she wasn’t here to see what had become of civilisation. The unspeakable horrors she would have witnessed and suffered but didn’t ― it was very little consolation to a father, but it was better than nothing.

He absentmindedly touched the watch on his wrist, ensuring it was properly fastened.

Joel was stationed with other people in front of Bataan-Corregidor Memorial Bridge. In those long, never-ending hours, there was no activity on the other side of the bridge, but they had to remain vigilant nonetheless. By the time the next group showed up, it was already half eight in the evening.

Joel headed towards the headquarters to sign off and go home. He was already on edge, thinking about what he would say to you to appease you. Because he was damn sure you would be waiting for him, ready to pick up the fight where you both left it. As Joel walked past the canteen, he heard a familiar voice.

Tommy was on his feet, yelling at a man, his accusatory index pointing to the guy. Joel rolled the eyes to the back of his head ― he was sure his brother was so drunk he would probably not remember any of this the next day. Joel shook his head with disappointment ― some things would never change, not even when the world had gone to shit.

He planned to ignore the situation and get back home to you, when a fight started. Joel groaned in despair, debating what to do. But a man chose for him ― he saw how a bloke approached Tommy from behind, knife on hand, and he knew he had to do something. Joel quickly closed the distance in stride and grabbed the man from the neck of his shirt, pulling him backwards until the dude stumbled with his own feet.

Madness broke out, the whole canteen becoming a battling ground. People were fighting each other over absolutely nothing, throwing punches in the air.

“Tommy!”, he shouted angrily, while the younger Miller turned around and simply smiled.

That fucking pissed him off big time.

“Are you fucking out of your mind? How much have you been drinking?!”, Joel wanted to punch his brother so bad, he really had to control himself.

“Not enough”, he babbled.

As Joel approached his brother, ready to fight him if necessary, the man he had pushed away from Tommy tapped his shoulder. When Joel turned around, the dude punched him in the face and then stabbed him in the lower stomach.

Joel froze for a second, his back slightly curved, his brain coming to terms with what just had happened. He looked down while his hand gripped the handle of the knife. He knew not to remove it because it was the blade what prevented him from bleeding out. Then Joel glanced back up at the same guy and, without thinking, he removed the knife from his flesh and sticked it on the man’s shoulder with a growl.

Joel’s wound started to bleed like a pig in a slaughterhouse. Not that he noticed anyway, because hell literally broke loose.

It wasn’t late late, only ten in the evening, but none of the brothers was around when you returned home, which was weird. You could understand if Joel was avoiding you, but Tommy? You frowned as you called for them, shutting the main door behind you. Nothing, no reply at all.

Before you could walk to the living room to see if there was a note or something, someone knocked on the door.

You looked through the peephole. Joyce was standing outside, worry wrinkling her aged face. You opened the door.

“What’s the matter, Joyce?”

“It’s Joel, he’s in the infirmary”, she whispered while placing a soft hand on your forearm.

You just stared at her, bewildered.

“Huh? The where?”, you repeated, while her words started to sink in, your stomach contracting with fear.

“Come with me, kiddo”, Joyce took your hand, guiding you through the apartment building.

The next time you blinked, you were in an outbuilding outside the headquarters. Joyce palmed your hand with hers, in a calming gesture, while she took you to the far end of the shelter. The old lady planted you in front of Joel’s bed, and let go of you with a “take care”.

You stood there for a long minute, still trying to grasp what the hell had happened. He was asleep, his head slightly tilted away from you ― or so you hoped he was. Joel had no shirt on, a bloody bandage covering the right side of his abdomen. You got closer, your heart pounding in your throat.

“He’s fine, it’s just a scratch”, you looked up, befuddled.

Tommy was sitting in a plastic chair on the other side of the bed. He was crouching forwards, his elbow against his knee, head pressing against the palm of his hand. Tommy then smiled, which completely perplexed you.

You were about to reply, but suddenly Joel did instead.

“Fuck off, Tommy. Get your ass somewhere else”, he gritted his teeth.

You hadn’t noticed it yet, but you had been holding your breath, because suddenly you felt a stone being lifted off your chest. You glanced at the younger Miller, who had gotten up with a smile. When he walked past you to go outside, you smelled it. The stench of alcohol made you wrinkle your nose unconsciously.

Joel wrapped his fingers around your wrist to get your attention, so you turned around to look at him, so confused you couldn’t even form a sentence. Joel had already adjusted the pillow on his back so he could be somewhat sat up.

“It’s alright, no need to cry”, he said raising one of his hands to sweep away your tears.

You had not realised you were crying. Giving it a second thought, you probably had been since you left home. You pursed your lips and nodded, quietening your sobs.

“What…?”, you muttered, resting your cheek against his palm before placing a kiss on it.

“Tommy got into a fight in the canteen. He’s so drunk he probably won’t remember a thing tomorrow. A man tried to stab him, and I got in the way ― that’s all, sweetheart. No serious damage, just some stitches”, he tried to calm you.

You wished Tommy was still in the room, because you would have loved to slap the shit out of him for being so irresponsible. What the hell was he thinking? Joel was hurt because of him, and he had just left smiling as if it wasn’t so serious.

“Just leave him be, it’s worthless trying to speak to him in such a state”, something in Joel’s voice told you this wasn’t the first time he had been in this situation.

“Are you sure you’re fine? Joel, please, don’t lie to me―”, you mustered, trying to keep your tears in check, as you caressed his cheek.

He heavily sighed as he scooted over to one end of the tiny bed, leaving enough space for you to join him. You got on the gurney quickly, nestling against him, your arm across his chest in a half embrace. His body heat calmed your nerves a bit, although your hands were still shaking.

“I’m fine, I’m not lying. They won’t let me leave yet though, the nurse said I need to stay here for a couple of hours, until she’s certain the bleeding has stopped”, he explained, his fingertips tracing the shape of your right shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere”, you said with a small voice, your left cheek against his chest.

Joel didn’t fight you on that, so you stayed by his side. His left hand was resting just below your face, his broken watch strapped around his wrist. You bowed your head a bit and kissed his knuckles.

“I’m sorry about this morning, I thought fixing your watch was a nice thing to do, considering it’s been broken since I met you”, you tried to explain yourself, but Joel hushed you by cupping your chin so your eyes would meet his.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I know you meant well. It’s just…”, you heard him gulp down, as if the next words were extremely painful to say out loud. “Sarah fixed this watch for me on my last birthday. It’s been stuck at 2.40 AM since… since we both got shot. One of the bullets broke it”, he recounted in a husked voice, his brown eyes focused on the timeless sphere.

Then it hit you. That was Sarah’s time of death. And, unknowingly, you almost ruined the last memento Joel possessed of his daughter. His most precious treasure. You felt sick to your stomach at the mere idea of being responsible for such a thing. Had you known, you would have never even considered doing what you had planned.

“Gosh, Joel, I’m sorry. I swear to you I didn’t know”, you breathed out desperately.

“I know, baby. I should have told you that instead of getting angry and for that I apologise, but I just couldn’t…”, he clenched his jaw, and you tried to soften his expression with the touch of your fingers.

“Don’t apologise, please”, you kissed his bearded jaw and remained in comfortable silence for the next two hours, until Joel was finally discharged.

The next day you both stayed home. Tommy had tried to apologise when he came back to his senses, but Joel was having none of it. The younger Miller eventually understood that his brother just needed space until he decided to forgive him and gave up in his efforts. You were alone with Joel all day, making sure he was okay and helping him clean the wound. Those stitches were going to leave a nasty scar on him, but it was better than the alternative. It was healing well, no signs of infection, for which you were so pleased ― probably more than him. You almost had to tie him to the bed so he would stop fidgeting around ― Joel was going to get the wound open again if he didn’t remain still for a bit.

You knew Joel was just trying to keep his brain busy because this day marked a year since Sarah was wrongly snatched from his life. That was why he was so taciturn and quiet today, and you let him be for the most part.

When he sat down on the couch in the afternoon, you just nestled against his body, in silence, his arm affectionately enveloping you.

Nighttime came around soon enough, and you both got into bed. Joel spooned you as soon as he laid down behind you, his right arm hugging you, his chest against your back. You soon fell asleep in his warm embrace, feeling protected and content.

Joel woke up a few hours later, one of his recurrent nightmares haunting him. He grumbled in displeasure and got out of bed to change the dressing over the wound. He did so efficiently and returned to bed, slipping under the bedsheets quietly.

Another hour went by, and he was still awake, his eyes on the ceiling.

He rolled onto his left side and saw you sleeping peacefully, in the exact same position you fell asleep. You had not moved one inch. Joel smiled softly as he got closer to you, sliding his arm around your waist and dragging you over to him, looking for your soothing warmth.

Unconsciously, you wiggled your hips to bury your butt in his bulge, and Joel contained a pitiful moan. Your perfectly round ass was innocently embedded in his groin. Now he was sure as hell he was not going to be able to fall back asleep. Irremediably, he pressed his manhood against your buttocks again, looking for that friction.

Joel felt his cock tense up, an erection taking hold. He freed his manhood, slowly pumping himself ― his leaky tip brushing your asscheek until a wet patch adorned your panties. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t resist. You were all curled up, drooling on the pillow, faintly snoring, your knees slightly bent. He cut the distance between you and shoved his dick in your thigh gap, his shaft rubbing against your pussy covered by your underwear.

Sweat gathered on his brow as he rocked his pelvis back and forth, your thighs sweetly compressing his cock ― the tip feeling cold when it overhung on the other side. Joel kissed your shoulder, his hand gently placed on your hip to steady himself.

“C’mon, baby, wake up”, he husked near your ear, gently nibbling your earlobe.

You hummed, half awake. You felt your body being rocked, your eyes fluttering open and looking downwards. Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Joel’s glans sticking out through your thigh nook, then disappearing from sight to reappear again. You smiled pleasantly, shutting your eyes, as you felt your needy cunt melt for him. You pursed your lips with delight.

“Can I have my birthday present again, sweetheart?”, he whispered in a constrained tone.

You nodded, scatterbrained.

You were drenching your underwear so bad, there was a visible damp, darken spot right in the middle. Joel pulled back from in between your legs and pushed the bridge of your panties to one side. He lodged his cock in between your puffy lips, sliding it through your entire slit a couple of times to douse himself with your fluids.

“You’re soaking wet, baby”, he muttered as you let out a soft moan when Joel pressed his tip against your dripping hole, your flesh parting as the Red Sea.

Then Joel slowly pushed his hard cock in inch by inch down to his balls. His right arm hugged you, poising you in place and sneaking his hand under your pyjama top to hold one of your full breasts. He stilled for a second, feeling your cunt sheathing him like a warm glove. He thrusted once, twice, thrice. You lost count after that, Joel plunging into you from behind, gaining erratic speed. You grasped the bedsheet in your fist, your spit pooling on the pillowcase.

You placed a hand on your mound and a few seconds later, you slipped it under your panties. With the palm against your clit to cause some grinding, you could feel Joel coming in and out of you in between your index and middle fingers. Your gushing cunt started palpitating around his slick cock, your inner walls squeezing him hard as you came, mewling like a kitten in heat.

Joel quickly followed you, his cum filling you up, breathing roughly behind you. You tilted your head towards your right to look at him over your shoulder. He kissed you, first gently, then more demanding, while his dick was still throbbing with the last wave of his release. Joel pinched your nipple before freeing your mouth.

“There you go, sweetheart, so you don’t forget who you and your tight pussy belong to”, he groaned as he pulled out of you.

“Thank you, sir”, you said gratefully.

Joel put your underwear back in place and pressed the palm of his hand against your wet panties, his cum trickling out with yours and swamping the piece of clothing even more, saturating it, almost as if you had pissed yourself.

“Go back to sleep, darlin’”, he kissed the nape of your neck, his hand still lodged in your thigh gap, hard pressed against your satisfied, clothed pussy. You loved how possessive he was of you, literally claiming your cunt for himself at every chance he got.

With a pleased sigh, you tucked your hands under your head and fell back asleep within seconds.

The earth was round again.

[thefourchimes]

Encanto Dashboard Simulator

haha guess who just decided to try something completely unhinged in an attempt to be funny and is probably failing miserably at it?

#im trying my best #this will probably crash and burn but hey at least i tried right #say hello to an encanto dashboard simulator #the movie but in tumblr lmao #or rather this is a day before the movie #also i think i fumbled on some of the characterizations...im sorry pls go easy on me ahahsfiuhasf #oh and dont question too much about time periods because i have no idea either #i kept it as vague as possible lmao

0 notes

🕯 encanto-updates May 20

Antonio Madrigal, the youngest member of the magical Madrigal family, will be having his 5th birthday and gift ceremony tomorrow!

The ceremony and celebration will be happening at Casita by 7 in the evening!

#madrigal ceremonies #the madrigals #madrigal family #antonio madrigal #the encanto

1,398 notes

🔁👀 hidden-in-plain-sight reblogged farmingwoes May 20

🏯 probablymagicalplaces Follow May 20

does anyone have any theories on what the youngest madrigal's gift will be?

🥣 magic-soup Follow May 20

maybe something similar to his siblings?? dolores has superhearing and camilo has shapeshifting. what could be a possible gift like those?

or maybe like his mom! something closer to nature, maybe

🌾 farmingwoes Follow May 20

as long as it isn't like his mother's gift, pretty much anything is good

🔇 shhhhquiet May 20

Hm.

👀 hidden-in-plain-sight May 20

hey man @farmingwoes u really shouldnt be saying things like this, u know? i mean, what if a madrigal sees it? u'd be screwed!

🌾 farmingwoes Follow May 20

as if the family would check this hellsite

👀 hidden-in-plain-sight May 20

u never know tho...they could literally be reading this right now

#theres always a chance ur words will come back to bite u #:]

759 notes

🙃 aaaaaaaaa May 20 • Liked by nothingswrongimtotallyfine

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

#screams #more screaming

129 notes

🔁💃 his-shine reblogged her-sun May 20

🎶 her-sun Follow May 20

@his-shine Mi vida, I have a cup of coffee with your name on it.

💃 his-shine Follow May 20

You are a lifesaver.

#gracias #i really appreciate it #<3

59 notes

🧍‍♂️ listentomeimserious Follow May 20 • Because you follow #the madrigals

Finally, after three whole months of researching and writing, I have done it.

Here, in all its glory, is my analysis on why the Madrigals and their supporters are a cult, complete with sources, pictures, and pure undeniable proof to drill the point home and shut the doubters up.

Let's begin.

` Keep Reading

#the madrigals #encanto #this took me so long to gather and write #but i have finally done it #here is your proof!! #the madrigals are a cult!!!

6 notes

🔁🪓 please-take-a-break reblogged need-a-break May 20

🪓 please-take-a-break Follow May 20

I did not expect that tree to fall down the way it did.

🔪 need-a-break Follow May 20

Ay...come here, mi amor.

#eheh...lo siento

68 notes

🔁🫠 nothingswrongimtotallyfine reblogged lovercorn May 20

👊 gotintoafistfightanddidntdie Follow May 20

there's a donkey munching hay outside my house again...

🌽 lovercorn Follow May 20

op, are you okay...did you get enough sleep

32 notes

🧶 wondrous-crafts May 20

⚫ Anonymous asked: any new projects you made recently? will you share them?

Oh! Well, I do have some things I created in the past few weeks. A stuff toy and some embroidered items ready for events...

Not sure yet if I'll share them but we can see how that goes!

#got a couple things prepared for my family #but we'll have to see if i'll share them hahaha #yeah

47 notes

🔁🐀 iaminyourwalls reblogged jumpedbyacapybara May 20 • They're back!

🤕 jumpedbyacapybara Follow May 20

sure hope tomorrow won't be a disaster in the making

#knock knock knock #knock on wood

360 notes

[icantpickausernamesorry]

netflix is incredibly annoying.

(in this I will talk mostly about dead boy detectives since it's the one I have watched, but I acknowledge Kaos, Lockwood and co. and all the others. tag more in the reblogs!!)

like a lot of people, I clicked on dbd and like a FUCK TON of people, I adored it. and like AN ASS TON of people, I started crying when I realised it got cancelled.

now, there are a few things about this show that ticked me off when I looked into it. one, it's a show about dead guys and it was not released in October. Two, it is very inherently queer and was not released during pride month. the problem- it was released when the audience wasn't introduced to it in a proper way.

next, it was in the Top 10 list for a while, but then fell off. I think (!!) that the reason is because honestly, sometimes I get so mad that my favorite show is cancelled that I'd give up on everything too. also, there are people saying that netflix did not market this show well. I cant find anything about that since I don't have any other social media app, but if you have data pls post it here.

next, the main problem. SHIT DOES NOT GET FAMOUS WITH ONE SEASON!!

take schitts creak. from this article (which was also an inspiration for this post) I saw that it did not get much traction until the third season. THIRD. SEASON.

I think it's basic common fucking sense, but let's explain it to @netflix

imagine you get a taste of an amazing ice cream. it's beautiful. it hits all your taste buds in the best way. you gobble it up. then you find out that the ice cream is discontinued. the company that made it is fighting tk make more, but the head honchos at marketing don't care. they said that it didn't have a bit enough audience, not enough people ate it. After some research, you realise that the ice cream was released for a week. in an ice cream truck that was notorious to partner with the head honchos and routinely did this.

don't you think that that is a little FUCKING DUMB!?

the crew and cast and everything about dbd is beautiful. captivating. the season ended on SUCH a cliffhanger, leaving the audience wanting more, like ice cream. but that joy hoes un-heeded.

I genuinely don't know how to tell people that maybe, perhaps, things take time to work. relationships. a project.

A MOTHERFUCKING SHOW.

in short, I hate @netflix . they are hungry capitalist pigs who do not realise how much shows mean.

bring back binge-worthy television that does not get cancelled when the head honchos want it to.

@netflix @netflix @netflix @netflix @netflix

(p.s- check out the linked article! it's very informative and very well written!)

[jupiter-letters]

Klaus Hargreeves x queerplatonic!reader hcs pls? I fell in love with that idea ages ago sorry

Klaus Hargreeves x Queerplatonic Reader

A/N: Sure thing anon! I've never heard of a queerplatonic relationship before so I learned something new, thank you! I did a little research on it, I hope you like it. 👻🔮

now playing: Alone Together-Fall Out Boy

A lot of people make the assumption that the two of you are 'together together' because you're rarely seen apart but you do at some point make it clear you're not dating.

The relationship you both share is so fluid you couldn't do it the disservice of saying you're 'just' friends or 'just' dating. The affection Klaus has for you can't be limited to just one thing, just like himself.

In said relationship, he is slightly less touchy feely than a romantic relationship , unless you feel comfortable with more. Klaus has a lived a very physically starved life apart from a few hugs of support and pity from his family. He uses it to ground himself when he feels overwhelmed.

During a stressful conversation he appreciates you give him a comforting hand to hold or your head on his shoulder. Being able to touch someone casually without fear of how they'll retaliate is a nice change of pace. You're so generous with it too, letting Klaus basically hang off you like a coat. Always near and ready to embrace him.

Going on unusual outings with Klaus, you'll both just go to abandoned houses and listen to some old records together. He'll try to slow dance with you too, not well but he likes feeling your heart beat against his. Dancing with Klaus in general is always fun, when he feels comfortable going back to clubs again you'll have a blast together. You'll be bouncing up and down to techno music and kissing each other every few minutes.

If you guys live together, he'll come into your room and poke you awake. Klaus will find some ridiculous way to wake you up everyday, he'll poke your face till you wake up so he can show you a funny video he found. One time he woke you up to show you a creepy victorian doll he bought at the thrift store.

"Hey, hey, wake up, check out this little beauty I rescued last night." and the doll is just looking at you like this "👁️👄👁️".

Klaus will be very supportive when you want to go on dates, there's never a jealousy issue with him. If he sees someone eyeing you during an outing he'll make a great cheerleader. Klaus is also very intuitive, if some person gives off a bad vibe he'll hiss at them and they'll leave you alone.

Going trick or treating as grown ass adults in cheap costumes for the fun of it. You wear two costumes, one as a ghost so you can repeat houses even if people know it's you two again.(They either give you the candy or chase you off the porch.) The other is whatever you chose. You spend the rest of the night feeding each other candy under the starry sky.

Thanks for reading! Lemme know what you think. Please like or reblog if you like my stuff.

[queerponcho]

Transfixed | part 3

previous part | part 4

collage made by me with pictures from pinterest

moonknight!system x female!reader

a/n: AHHH- Thank you all so much for reblogging, liking and commenting on my past chapters!!! I just reached 50 reblogs and it honestly means the world that people are embracing a newbie like me (✿◠‿◠)

Warnings: no use of Y/N, fluff, NOT beta read, gushing about the moonboys, flustered awkward dorks, plot-twists, Jake being a menace, (eventual smut, the chapters will be marked individually), inaccurate depictions of DID, egyptian mythology and religion (although I did extensive research I took liberty in changing some things to adhere to my plot...), if I missed anything or made any spelling mistakes pls don't hesitate to tell me!

Summary: Steven and Marc have a little...carfuffle when Jake finally lets them front again, after days of taking over. The date plans are set and both parties eager to meet soon but are we surprised when things don't go as planned..?

2,200 words

Steven at home

‘I can’t believe this- how does this even happen Steven?’

‘Mate, I don't know! You were there weren’t you? You know how it happened…’

‘So you’re tellin’ me that any pretty girl can just sit there and you will literally tell them all about our personal business???'

‘How else was I supposed to find out about Jake huh?? Say that he’s my identical twin brother and then have to explain myself-'

‘Steven you would never have had to explain anything! Because this was supposed to be ONE conversation over a non-committal coffee- not a damn first date.’ Marc replies sternly. He looks at Steven in the glass of the fishtank and notices him looking deflated and guilty. Great- now he feels guilty for making Steven feel guilty. ‘I-I am sorry man, I shouldn't've gotten this mad, you know how I am about…personal stuff.’ Marc says sincerely. He really has been trying to be better at communicating, it’s been a feat to get here but he would do anything to make Steven's life easier. ‘It’s alright Marc..you’re right I should call off the date’ Steven says while looking at his hands, remembering your touch on his shoulder. The way you made him trust you so easily, even though he barely knew you. How desperately he wanted to get to know you an- ‘Steven, you know we share a brain right?’ Marc says trying to stop Steven from swooning any further. ‘Look- clearly you like her and she seems to like you as well, so who says this won’t turn out well?’ ‘well- you know: “we share a brain”’ Steven says, mocking Marc's previous comment. ‘Okay okay I get it-  I messed up. I’m sorry. There, will you let me help you now?’ Marc looks at Steven expectantly.

Days passed since they had returned home after you left them in the cafe. Steven was pretty sure Jake had taken over after leaving the coffee-shop but he was finally fronting again after a few days. Steven squints his eyes at Marc but relents ‘alright fine, I don’t know what to text her…I think she might be waiting for me to initiate conversation…’ ‘You realise we wouldn't have this issue if I had fronted and you wouldn't have had the chance to fall in love like a desperate teen-boy’ ‘I thought you said you lay off with the mean comments! And i am NOT in love-’

‘yeahyeah, you’ve never had a girlfriend have you? You must be reeaaally nervous…’ he adds in a singsong voice. Marc won’t let up, he’s being dragged into this mess so he might as well have a bit of fun. ‘Okay now I know you’re just takin’ the piss- are you gonna help me or not?’ Steven says fully aware of his embarrassing situation. ‘Alright, you text and I tell ya how to start, alright?’

‘Oh bollocks- uum okok I-I can do this..’ Steven is fronting now sitting on the office-chair and stares at his phone screen, starting with a simple introduction.

steven is typing...

‘Hiya- it’s me Steven!’

He had written, deleted and rewritten the message about six times before finally sending it.

You answered very quickly, you’d been waiting for him to text since you got home a few days ago. Processing everything that happened between you and steven- and well, Jake.

‘hi:) glad to hear from you. I wanted to apologise for leaving so abruptly, but it was all a bit much to process and i was running super late for work haha…i hope you understand’

‘Of course luv. If you’ve got any questions you can always ask, I hope you know that.’

‘i do’

‘i was actually hoping to ask you some questions on that date you promised me;)’

You seemed a bit more forward over text and Steven did not mind it one bit, since it was just the push he needed.

‘Right! I thought we could meet friday? There's this great vegan restaurant, I'd love to take you there?’

‘sounds great! could you pass me the address of the place?’

‘No need luv- I’ll pick you up.’

‘oh!’

‘that works too’

You hadn’t realised the age gap until this moment. They were probably around 10 years older than you with you being in your mid-twenties. You did notice the wrinkles and silver strands when you first saw Jake but hadn’t really thought about the fact that he was about a decade older than you. Just now as he offered to pick you up did you realise the generational difference. You didn’t have an issue with it, you’ve always liked your partners to be a bit older so this definitely wasn’t a turnoff. If anything it only amplified your attraction.

‘I’d love your address’

‘Whenever you get the chance to send it:)’

‘right! sending it now…’

You send him your address. 

‘Thanks luv. Alright, I’ll see you Friday at 7pm then?’

‘yes! see you tomorrow steven<3’

He sat back, setting his phone on the sink. ‘Alright there's your date’

‘Thanks for taking over, Marc- couldn’t have done it alone’

‘Relax Steven- this was just texting. But you realise I can’t just take over during the date, right?’

‘Of course I know that…doesn’t mean you shouldn’t stand by just in case…’ 

‘So- wait, what are we gonna do with Jake's notebook?’

‘I uuhm couldn't find anything besides drawings and sketches of her…I mean at least we had those, otherwise we would’ve never found out about him loaning that book.’

‘By the way…we know Jake likes her as well, by getting to know her better, we have a chance of actually luring Jake out-’

‘That might be true but that's not our goal! I- I actually like her…she might become my first proper girlfriend, I don't wanna mess this up.’ Steven is adamant on getting to know you, very hopeful of the connection he feels towards you. An almost magnetic pull he felt between you, one he has never felt with anyone before.

Marc chuckles at the reminder but reassures Steven, ‘And we won't, I promise, you will do fine Steven’

Friday

It’s 4 am. You’ve been trying to sleep for the past four hours but the thought of getting to see Steven and possibly Jake later today was not letting you relax. If anything it was causing a very persistent tension…in places you really dont wanna delve into. In fact, you’re trying really hard not to think about that tension, which might be the exact reason as to why you can’t seem to find your way to a peaceful slumber. You try to distract yourself by thinking of how this all even started. The way Jake intrigued you since the beginning and had you speechless every time he appeared. And you think about steven- steven who's the polar opposite to jake and is this shy sweetheart that can’t seem to even look you in the eyes but somehow managed to bluntly ask you out on a date. You keep thinking about them and their differences and analyse them, not noticing your eyes slowly shutting closed and your thoughts slowly forming into vivid dreams based on your memories with the boys…you sit up in your bed abruptly remembering your texts with steven. Realising you had shared your private address with a fucking stranger…you hold your head in your hands and push your palms into your eye-sockets trying to calm down. You don't actually know shit about these men…you really should’ve told your friends about them cuz literally no one knows about these encounters. But truly it was all so bizarre and absurd that you really didn’t want your friends to spoil it for you by using anything close to logic or realism. To maybe argue that they could have anything untoward in mind with you. 

You lay back down and finally feel a wave of exhaustion hit you. You want to believe that they actually maybe even like you…of course there is a possibility that Steven only asked you out to find out more about Jake. oh and marc, was it? You wonder what he might be like and if he's anything like his alters. You turn from your clock having hit 5am and finally force yourself into sleep.

You wake up to your alarm blaring and prepare yourself for work. You start the day groggy and tired due to only sleeping four hours. But just the thought of your date tonight has you motivated enough to hurry up and catch the next bus.

Moonboys POV

Marc woke up around noonish since Steven took forever to finally fall asleep. Lately he’d been better but last night he was as jittery as a six year old the night before christmas. Currently standing in the kitchen brewing himself a cup of black coffee and prepping his mug with two brown sugars. ‘So loverboy, what are you planning for tonight?’ He says while wearing an amused smirk on his face.

‘Okay well first off, cool it with the nicknames yeah? And secondly you literally texted it for me yesterday. We are goin’ to my favourite restaurant.’ Steven replies proudly while also ashamed for not even having the balls to text you himself. ‘About that…I don’t think that place is open right now- in fact I think all the restaurants are closed today, no?’ Marc remarks and pours himself the long awaited bitter brew. ‘Wha-Whatareyousayin mate??’

‘Well’ He clears his throat ‘when I woke up I saw today's date and remembered that today is that weird holiday, the only thing open are convenience stores and the 24-hour Tesco’ he says, his voice laced in an amused tone and takes a slow sip of his sweetened coffee. ‘Bollocks- what am I gonna do?...I could cook?’ ‘Steven’ ‘No, I-i can't even make a- a salad! How the hell am i supposed to cook for her if I can't cook marc?!’ he says panicked ‘Steven’ marc sternly interrupts, carefully putting his half empty mug on the counter 

‘I can help you. I may not be amazing at it but I can remember a few things from- from what our dad taught us.’ Marc and Steven rarely talked about their past but recently they were kinda forced to deal with it. Just the fact that they, let alone Marc, can mention anything from that time so casually is kind of a huge step for them. 

Marc and Steven spend the rest of the day planning, buying and preparing the food for the date. The time comes when Steven has to take over the body to get ready to pick you up. He finds a shirt in the back of his closet- same oversized cut as his others but a bit less casual and more sleek looking than the usual shirts he wears. His hair is as unruly and fluffy as usual despite Marc insisting on sleeking it back. He convinces him to use some curling cream he had found in the back of the bathroom drawer.

Steven applies it sceptically, coming to the conclusion that it does look pretty good. He makes his way to your address making sure to ring on the right door. Basically buzzing from anxiety, Marc is doing everything to keep him calm and rehearse with him what he was gonna do and say when you ringed him in and opened your door, knowing full well, that all the preparation would fly out the window when he actually met you…Jake is silently watching this all transpire and cant help but be amused at all this, not admitting that he was actually a bit nervous himself.

You came back from work tired BUT extremely excited to get ready. You had to stay a bit longer than anticipated and thus only had about one hour to get ready. Hopping in the shower as quickly as possible you try to calm down under the warm streams of water hitting your body, melting all the tension out of your back, shoulders and sore legs. Work had been exhausting and this shower was proving to get difficult to leave. But the alarm you had set to remind yourself of the time, successfully cut your relaxation short. You quickly exited your shower wrapping your body in a fluffy white towel. Wiping the steamy mirror to see your reflection more clearly, you start getting ready. Adding whatever products you use to your hair and applying sweet smelling lotion to your body, basically doing any- and everything to make you feel as confident and ready as possible for your date, who was supposed to arrive iiiin…twenty minutes?!

You hurried your makeup routine and rushed to your room quickly picking out an outfit you felt sexy in but also had a grounding and comfy vibe. You threw on a beige knitted sweater, which had an oversized fit with a mini-jean skirt. Paired with sheer brown tights, thigh-high beige cashmere socks and brown leather knee-high, high-heeled boots. Finishing off the look with your favourite jewellery and accessories, you look over at the clock. It's 6.50pm and you are just adding the last finishing touches to your look and making sure you've moved all the important things from your ‘work-bag’ to your ‘going out purse’ when the door rings. ‘He's here’ you mutter to yourself, running to the door making sure it's him and pushing the button to the intercom. ‘Yes, hello?’

a/n: hope yall liked this chapterrr- in the next chapter you'll be able to read all about the date and i am SO excited for yall to read about it *squeals* don't mean to toot my own horn but GURL it's so good i already wanna post it ♪(´▽｀)

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