#and i’m just like haha who would even care if i leave

[emmg]

Hello love Can I ask for Raphael x reader where Raph actually shows love, buuut in his own twisted way? One of my fam members had autism and he never ever said those three words, but showed it in acts of service and paying attention to what you say/do aaand i was thinking about Raphael who tries to show how much he loves her(or them) but well he's not very good at this. Tav reading book- he will read it too, because he cares...just to tell her how much it sucks. She's bleeding after a fight? Throws her into his healing pool and tell her how stupid she is for the whole time he's with her and how she wastes his time, but won't leave her alone, because what if this dumb mortal drowns herself? A guy said something to her and she felt like sh*t or he touched her to make her uncomfortable? He would give her a very fancy box with big bow and smiles innocently at her ; 'Come on little mouse..open it' just for her to see somebodys hand or head 'oh..this? its this creep from yesterday' Tav wears something cheap? oh boy he would tell her everythink he thinks about this rag. She thinks he wants her to wear only expensive things, because how she looks=his reputation but the truth is he thinks she deserves only the most lavish things in her life and he wont allow her to live below HIS standards And his fav way of showing love is giving her mortal who hurt her in any way already beaten so they wont demage his precious possesion, but conscious enough so she can enjoy torturing them (for sure he does it for his own amusement more than hers)

What a fun prompt! Although, to be fair, I can't exactly make it totally healthy because Raphael isn't an emotionally healthy person to be in a relationship with so this is still a little bit dark, though definitely not awful haha.

ETA: ah crap I missed the part about x reader. So sorry about that. In my defence, I truly cannot write from second person point of view. I’m very, very sorry anon. I’ve tried before and it feels awkward to me and everything comes out… bad.

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Sometimes she feels hollowed out, as if something essential has been scooped clean from within her. She’s not sure why she stays—or even if she’s staying at all. Maybe he’s holding her here, maybe she has no choice, maybe she lost that freedom long ago. Because you don’t walk away when Raphael is speaking; you don’t walk away when he’s watching you. And his eyes are always on her, always, always, always following.

That gaze—it leaves her feeling half trapped, half sanctified, as though caught in some dreadful, holy spell. He doesn’t look at others this way, she knows that, but that knowledge only tightens the hold, winds the snare around her. It’s nothing, she tells herself—this attention, his careful watch—yet it feels like everything, a binding without words, a noose drawing tighter, a claw sinking deeper. Time twists strangely when he’s near, spiraling into something she can’t name, and she can’t help but wonder: will his interest wane, fade away to nothing? Or will it sharpen, tighten, until it consumes her, leaving her breathless, until there’s no space left at all? 

If it does—if he closes around her entirely, if his grip becomes her world, pressing in until there’s no air, no light, only him—what will she be then?

And she’s not even sure if he cares. He holds her there, yes, but it feels like watching a game; his own personal mousetrap, an exquisite little experiment to see how far she'll reach for the cheese. She wonders if he’s simply taking what he can, drawing her deeper until he tires of her, only to discard her when he does, laughing at her fascination with him. She can almost see it—him spitting in her face, turning her out with a sneer, then pulling her back in just as quickly. He'd fuck her, taunt her, pull her close only to watch her shatter, then laugh, invite her back with a gift, something golden, expensive, dripping with indulgent mockery. 

But then there are the other things he does, things that somehow feel worse—things that make the walls seem as though they’re closing in, or maybe as if he’s drawing her into some embrace she can’t escape from. She’s not sure which would be more terrifying. 

Sometimes, when they’re in Avernus together, she finds the portals dead, the way back to her world—a world of soft light and mortal trivialities, the Gate and its grime—suddenly blocked, cut off. And it's always the same dance. She demands an answer, asks why she can’t pass through, why she’s stuck here in this burning place with him, unable to flee back to the familiar. And he only waves her off, barely looking up, irritation flickering in his gaze. He says he hasn’t the time to bother with “simple magic,” that she can wait. 

But he knows, he knows damn it, that she can barely summon a spark, let alone force open a gateway on her own. He knows she’s trapped, helpless as a moth in a bottle, wings beating frantically against glass she can’t see. And he watches her, almost bored, as she paces, her panic ripening, sinking roots in her chest. Because he knows she won’t leave, can’t leave, and he’ll let her struggle just long enough to make her feel it—the helplessness, the claustrophobia, the bitter thrill of his control, closing around her, almost gentle, almost loving.

And then, only then, he flicks his fingers, and the portals blaze open, bright and mocking, as if they’d never gone dead at all. 

She's interrupting him, Raphael says, a nuisance he has no time for. Important matters, contracts to seal, souls to collect—real work to do, and here she is, lingering in his shadow, hovering as if she belongs, asking him to breathe life into a stupid portal. He snaps at her to leave, to stop her pestering, to get out of his sight. And so she does, shrinking back, biting her lip, retreating into her quiet corner.

But then, later—always, somehow, later—he comes to her, waking her from half-sleep as he climbs over her, pressing down with a heat that seems to burn straight through her skin. He murmurs his need, his lust, his rough, clumsy want, lips grazing her ear with words that are half-whispered, half-demanded. And she lets him, wraps her arms around his back, holds him, breathes through the rush of his hands, the awkward rhythm of his taking. 

She feels the weight of him, the feverish heat, and she sighs into it, into him, because in the Hells, everything is unbearably hot. His skin burns against hers, more furnace than flesh, and though she knows he’s hasty, heedless, that she’s just an outlet, a brief relief, she takes it. She lets herself be consumed by it, that pressing heat because here, with him, it’s as close to comfort as she’ll ever get.  

But sometimes there are moments that make her think he might care, moments she savors, drinks in slowly, wondering if they're real or merely the product of his boredom. She can never quite tell, but she doesn’t mind; she lingers on these glimmers of gentleness, holds them in her memory far longer than she should. 

Like when she’s soaking in his absurdly large bath, reclining in the steaming water with her arms folded along the edge, her head resting on cool stone, hair spilling loose behind her. She’s doing nothing at all, simply breathing in the warmth, letting the steam curl around her. And then he appears, slipping into the room, extending those long legs of his, rolling up his sleeves as he settles by her side. He doesn’t join her in the water; instead, he simply sits, a book resting in his hands, the very one she finished days ago. 

She watches, amused, as he leafs through it, the prominent wrinkle between his brows deepening with each page he turns. His expression is one of studied distaste, the kind that would be comical on anyone else. But on him, it’s strangely captivating. 

“Unhinged drivel,” Raphael mutters finally, his tone ripe with disdain. 

“Hm,” she echoes, half-lidded, watching him through the steam. 

“Why do you read this?” he questions. “I have half a mind to burn it. The sheer embarrassment of sharing the same air with it—I hardly want it in my library.” 

She smiles, faintly, eyes closing as she stretches a little deeper into the warmth. “I’m done with it,” she replies, lazily. “Do what you wish.” 

He taps two fingers against the spine. “The Duke is an absolute cretin, I must say.” 

“Oh?” she murmurs, her voice barely a breath above the water’s surface. 

“Utterly insipid,” he continues. "Such posturing, such shallow arrogance. I wouldn’t offer him a contract if he were the last soul on the proverbial platter.” 

She laughs then, quietly, letting the sound ripple through the steam. She knows Raphael is just indulging in his own particular brand of superiority, delighting in the verbal dissection, and maybe he doesn’t care for her company at all. But still, he stays, perched beside her, weaving disdainful monologues that settle like warm coals in her chest. And for a moment—just a moment—she lets herself pretend that he’s here for her. 

He continues, eyes fixed on the offending book as if it’s a particularly irksome insect. “The Duke’s speech in chapter five...” he says. “So very witless, wouldn't you say? Who professes undying love with such clumsy metaphors? And in the garden, no less, like a character in a tragic farce. ‘You are my sun and moon,’” he scoffs, his voice rising to a mock-romantic lilt. “‘My stars, my breath, my—’” 

He pauses, catching her wide-eyed, incredulous look. A faint smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth, and there’s a glimmer of something—mischief?—in his gaze. “Oh, little mouse, don’t look at me like that. Surely you didn’t think I’d stoop to reading this… for enjoyment?”

She raises an eyebrow, half-laughing, half incredulous. “You read it?”

“Of course I read it,” he replies, with all the haughtiness of a scholar who’s just suffered through a poorly constructed essay. “I couldn’t very well leave such intellectual refuse lying about in my library without inspecting it first.” 

“Just inspecting it? Raphael, you just quoted chapter five.” 

He waves his hand dismissively. “A tragic misfortune. I assure you, it was purely incidental. I only skimmed enough to confirm my suspicions about its total lack of merit.” 

“Right,” she says, rolling her eyes, watching as he flips another page with painstaking precision. “Is that why you’re carrying it around?” 

He raises an eyebrow, looking at her over the book with that familiar, aristocratic arch of his brow. “Little mouse,” he drawls, his tone both affectionate and condescending, “you really must learn what jests are. I can’t go about explaining them every time, you know.” 

The novel is set aside.

His hand slips below the water, and she knows, he’s done talking, at least about her books. His fingers graze her skin, tracing erratic patterns. She feels his hand leave her only to hear the soft rustle of fabric, and then he’s there, sliding into the water, slipping behind her. 

His arms wrap around her even as he pushes her against the cool stone of the bath’s edge. She feels his impatience in the way his hands move—roaming, relentless, almost rough, his fingers pressing into her skin, biting, digging between the ribs, as if he can’t bear to be gentle.  

One hand cups her shoulder, anchoring her as his other hand travels down her side. It moves in a slow sweep, now a caress, almost reverent, then shifting, tracing a path with no pattern, simply moving, as if he’s learning her contours anew. His grip tightens, loosens, a rhythm that speaks of need and very little restraint. 

He dips his head, face buried in her hair, and she feels the weight of his breath, the moist heat of it on the exhale. There’s a hunger in his closeness, an intensity that borders on obsession. He’s quiet now, all the long-winded, self-important monologues silenced, his usual need to fill the space with words abandoned. 

She feels him pressing against her back, the hard, insistent weight of him, the subtle rock of his hips, and she sighs, her body folding further against the edge of the bath, yielding to him. The warmth in her chest spills out, dissipating into something intangible, and once again, she wonders: Was this all just a performance for her, or something he needs for himself? Was that little, half-sweet conversation meant to soften her, make her more pliant? Or, against all logic, did he truly want to speak to her, to share in that strange, fleeting intimacy? 

She wonders if he cares, even a little, if those sarcastic, needlessly elaborate jests of his are meant to coax a smile from her, to make her laugh. Or is it all calculated, a ploy to keep her engaged, to ensure that when he fucks her, she meets him with something more than passive resignation? She feels his fingers tighten on her waist, his breath hitch, and for a moment, just a moment, she allows herself to believe there’s something deeper beneath his touch, something that holds her in place as much as his arms do. 

There are other moments too, moments that sink into her like a sickness, twisting her stomach, filling her with a dread so deep it almost makes her want to flee, to scrub herself clean, to be rid of him. And yet, those same moments leave her feeling strangely exhilarated, a little unhinged, as though some part of her is thrilled by the horror of it all. 

Take the merchant, for instance. A two-penny swindler, trying to pass off cheap fabric as something exquisite. She spots his scam instantly—anyone with half a brain would—but he’s audacious, leaning in, voice low and greasy as he sells his lie. She calls him out, unimpressed, and he snaps, calling her a cunt. She flips him off without a second thought and moves on, thinking nothing more of it. She’s heard worse, so much worse, and just because she looks the part of a noblewoman at Raphael’s insistence doesn’t mean she’s forgotten the dirt and sweat of her own past. She knows the cheap tricks—how cloth is dyed in back alleys, stained with whatever can be found, how insect paste and a dash of alchemical solution turn cotton into “silk” for gullible morons. She’s done it all herself, seen the worst of it, and this pathetic attempt to cheat her hardly scratches the surface. 

She forgets the encounter entirely—until the next day. Raphael barely glances up from his writing, absorbed in the ink-stained pages of yet another infernal contract, when he pushes a small, ornate box across the table toward her. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even acknowledge it beyond a faint, almost bored gesture. She blinks, glancing from the box to him, and then back, curious but wary, wondering if this is another one of his games. 

She takes it, hesitates, then lifts the lid. 

Inside, nestled against dark velvet, is a finger. Blue, bloated, stiff with the grip of death. Her stomach turns, nausea creeping up her throat as she stares at it, bile rising as the realization settles—this isn’t just some random, expensive trinket. It’s a message, as clear and cold as the dead flesh before her. 

“Oh,” she whispers, voice strangled, unable to look away from the pale digit lying in the box, rigor mortis locking it in a ghastly curl. Her hands are trembling, fingers itching to drop the box, to shove it away, to wipe away the memory of this grotesque gift. 

She looks up at him, horrified, and finds his gaze resting on her, idle, yet somehow amused. 

She stares some more, her mind spinning as she tries to process what she’s holding, what this grotesque little gift is meant to convey. A part of her wants to retch, to bolt from the room, while another, unhinged part of her feels an inexplicable pull, an urge to draw closer to him, to be entangled in whatever madness constantly hangs off his sleeve. 

But she doesn’t do any of those things. Instead, she lets out a half-laugh, shaky and weak. “That’s… not what usually comes in jewelry boxes.” 

Raphael arches a brow. “I’ve given you plenty of jewelry, little mouse. Rings, bracelets, earrings—a whole collection of baubles you hardly deign to wear. Lavaliers, circlets, gems so fine even the simpering nobles of Waterdeep would weep for them. And yet, here you sit, determined to remain a rube.” He tsks, rolling his eyes with theatrical annoyance. “Mayhaps, I thought, just mayhaps, you might appreciate something different to suit that plebeian palate of yours.”

“Whose is it?” she asks, though she already knows. She feels the answer in the pit of her stomach, in the memory of yesterday’s insults and her dismissive walk away. 

He only shrugs, dipping his quill in ink. “I’m told he was a merchant.” He pauses, as if to savor the uncertainty flickering across her face. “Or was it a dockhand? Perhaps a barkeep. Truly, who can keep track of such insignificant lives?” 

She watches, spellbound in a way she can’t quite understand, as he sprinkles pounce over the wet ink, the tiny white particles catching the dim light. He lifts the paper, blowing the pounce off with a sharp exhale that sends the fine dust scattering into the air, drifting toward her. She coughs, swatting it away, a moment of reflexive frustration breaking through her discomfort. 

“So many names,” Raphael murmurs, almost to himself. “So many lives, so many inconsequential little people. It’s hard to keep them all straight, isn’t it?” 

She stares at him, a blend of revulsion and fascination churning within her. His words hang in the air, so careless, so detached, as if snuffing out a life meant nothing more to him than discarding an old, forgotten knickknack. And yet, he looks at her now, watching, as if expecting her reaction, waiting to see if she’ll recoil or lean closer. 

She leans closer, letting the moment pull her in, and he gives a satisfied little hum, returning to his writing with an air of contentment, as if the world is exactly as it should be. She watches the steady flow of his hand, the way his quill glides across the page in elegant, looping strokes, his cursive rising and falling. Her mind, however, catches on another thought, one that wraps around her and refuses to let go. 

He cares, she thinks, or at least he acts as though he does. This is how he responds to insults aimed at her, as if her offense is his to avenge. But another thought lingers, darker and heavier. He knows—that’s what unsettles her. If he knows, that means he saw, or had someone watch on his behalf, and that means she’s never truly alone, even when he isn’t there. She wonders how far that gaze extends, if he’s tracking her every step, every word, if he’s marked her movements like pinpoints on a map, an invisible tether she’s unknowingly bound herself to. 

Her hand drifts to her throat, almost absently, fingers brushing the skin there as if she might feel some hidden collar, a leash she’s been wearing all along without realizing it. But of course, there’s nothing—just bare skin and the faint, lingering warmth of her own touch. Still, the thought unsettles her, sends a flutter of anxiety mixed with something else, something uncomfortably close to… warmth. A warmth that spreads through her chest, that holds her in place despite the quiet urge in her feet to stand, to move, to walk as far as she can. 

But she doesn’t. Instead, she stays there, leaning close, just watching him as he writes, utterly absorbed in whatever Infernal text he’s crafting. And as she watches, that warmth in her chest grows, mingling with her apprehension, a mix of dread and fascination that knots itself around her, binding her there as securely as any leash he might conjure. 

Another day, another reckoning. 

She’s a mess of bruises, skin mottled and darkened so thoroughly she resembles a patchwork quilt rather than a woman. There had been a brawl, Astarion may or may not have thrown punches he couldn’t back, and they both may or may not have drunk too much. Korrilla may or may not have been at the Caress at the same time, her wicked laughter mingling with the chaos, and now her nose is a crimson fountain, dripping ceaselessly. Even the potion Korrilla forced down her throat did nothing to blunt the ache, the slight sneer on Korrilla’s face as she half-carried her back to the House of Hope making it clear she didn’t particularly want to be back tonight. 

When she stumbles in, Haarlep just laughs, calling her a “bloody, battered fool” and waving her off in disgust when she starts peeling off her clothes. With a muttered “Ew,” he disappears as she limps toward the restoration pool, her one salvation tonight. She knows it’s usually reserved for soothing injuries from far more… pleasurable encounters, but she hardly cares as she sinks into it, wincing as the water starts working its magic, stitching up minor cuts and scrapes as she closes her eyes and lets her head fall back. 

She drifts, the water lapping around her, letting the throbbing recede—until a sharp yank at her scalp rips her back to the present, her head wrenched above the water. She chokes, sputtering out bloody droplets as her eyes snap open, and she finds herself staring at Raphael’s livid face, exasperation etched in every line. His hand is tangled in her hair, and her scalp stings from his tight grip. He glances down at his dripping sleeves, soaked from pulling her up, and curses. 

“What a stupid way to die,” he hisses. “Drowning in my boudoir because you’re too idiotic to stay awake.” His fingers tighten in her hair, and there’s no mercy in his eyes. “Take a deep breath now.” 

She barely has a second to react before he shoves her head under the water, his hand pressing down with unrelenting force. Her body jerks, and she inhales raggedly before he drags her up again, just long enough for her to gasp for air and catch his sharp, appraising look before he shoves her down once more, holding her under like a misbehaving dog in need of punishment. Water floods her nose, stinging as she chokes, her hands scrabbling for purchase against the pool’s edge. 

Up again, another cursory glance, and then he plunges her under once more, his grip firm, a rhythm of punishment and cleansing, as though he’s scrubbing the night’s sins from her with each forced dunk. She claws at his wrist, nails scraping against his skin, and he finally releases her, leaving her gasping and hacking as she collapses against the pool’s edge, water pouring from her lungs in a desperate, wheezing cough. 

She realizes then, as she shudders and coughs, that the blood is gone; her nose, once a mess of numb throbbing, now feels raw but whole. She clutches the pool’s edge, head bowed, catching her breath as the water stills around her. Raphael just stands there, dripping, sleeves ruined, as he observes her. 

“Well,” he mutters, flicking water from his fingers with a faint sneer, “at least you’re less of a mess now.” 

He hauls her from the water, pulling her sodden form from the boudoir and away from the rumpled heap of her clothes. His eyes drift over them—the plain tunic, the uninspired trousers, the scuffed leather boots—with a look of disdain so pointed it almost makes her wince. 

“An offense to beauty itself,” he murmurs, almost to himself, though the words slap her just the same. “These… things.” His lip curls. “They will burn. They’re an affront to my eyes, and my patience is wearing thin.” 

His gaze slides back to her face, catching on her bruised nose, and he tilts her head with the care one might give a very expensive artifact. His fingers are unhurried, methodical, as he surveys her battered skin. “I don’t keep unsightly things, you know,” he says. “I like my things beautiful. It’s why I collect them—why I keep them close.” 

Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, his tone shifts to something almost conversational, a careless elegance in his words that sets her nerves alight. “Tell me, little mouse,” he begins, fingers tapping idly on his thigh, “shall I lock the door?” 

She feels a shiver run through her, her voice faltering. “Which… one?” 

He tilts his head in mock contemplation. “Why not all of them?” 

“Raphael…” she starts, but she isn’t even sure what she wants to say, or if there’s anything to be said at all. 

Unhurriedly, he begins to strip off his clothes, each gesture carried out with an almost ritualistic elegance. He slips out of his doublet, casting it aside with a look of mild annoyance. “Your doing,” he sighs, smoothing an imaginary crease before discarding it. “This fabric—fine enough to silence even the heavens—ruined by your negligence. It cost more than you could dream, more than most would spend in a lifetime.” 

She watches, stuck somewhere between disbelief and fascination, unsure if he’s preparing to fuck her or simply indulging in the strange meticulousness of his undressing. Each cufflink is unfastened with almost absurd care, each tie released with the same flawless precision she knows so well. The clothes fold neatly under his hands, smoothed and arranged as if they were sacred relics, and though part of her wants to laugh at the absurdity, she knows better than to test his patience now. 

Raphael pauses, shirt open just enough to reveal the line of his throat, his collarbone stark against tan skin. His eyes pin hers and his voice takes on a melodic, almost regretful tone. “Perhaps if I lock you in,” he murmurs, “you might refrain from throwing yourself into every pit of squalor in the Gate, seeking out any hand willing to smash that face of yours.” 

“No one seeks that, Raphael,” she says, her voice sounding distant. “It just… happens.” 

He snaps his fingers with a sharp, final click. “Yes, yes,” he echoes, almost as if humoring a child. “And doors just… lock themselves.” 

[butteredfrogs]

trying so hard not to get upset and say fuck it and delete my tumblr

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 8 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: peach, curses, luxury, impostor syndrome, alcohol, jungkook's family, they are so gone for each other my dude, explicit content: hickeys, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), exhibitionism (sort of but not really), protected sex, Jungkook is a teasing hoe, marking, ass slapping, praising, clit play

☆word count: 13.5k

☆a/n: NEW YOOOORK!!! My second favourite chapter of this series bc it's just so asjgsrjgsabfgo but I'll let you guys be the judge of that haha enjoy reading <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, March 8th 

The sun is high in the sky, the snow melting on the side of the road, and Jungkook’s car is eating the miles towards New York, the music you’ve been listening to since you’ve left loud yet enjoyable.

Or maybe what’s truly enjoyable is the smile on Jungkook’s face whenever you meet his gaze while you’re bolting a duet, singing over the music.

Scratch that, you’ve been enjoying yourself because you’re with Jungkook. It doesn’t matter what you’d be doing - as long as it’s with Jungkook, you know you’d have fun. Even as his car slows down almost to a halt as you near the city and face its traffic, it doesn’t deter you.

No, Jungkook’s wide grin and his hand on your thigh keeps your mind far too occupied to be able to produce anything other than serotonin, and you think you deserve it. Especially after the uncertainty of the last few weeks, you deserve this moment with Jungkook.

This moment, away from reminders of Taehyung and of how you know this relationship is bound to explode in your face one day.

You shove that thought away as Jungkook’s giggle fills the car, and you glance at him, smiling brightly.

“You’re not really going to put some Taylor Swift on,” Jungkook complains, yet it’s at odds with the amused light in his eyes.

“I sure am,” you reply, and the song Welcome to New York starts playing. 

You know it by heart, and Jungkook watches you in awe as you sing. If you weren’t rational, you’d assume he’s looking at you with heart-shaped eyes, but you know better than that.

You’re just his fake girlfriend for the weekend. Nothing more. 

Nothing more than the fact that you will meet his entire family, including his extended family, tomorrow. He doesn’t seem like he cares, and you’ve been trying to pretend that you don’t care either, but it is making you feel anxious.

You’ve never had a boyfriend that you’ve met the family of before. Or actually, you’ve never had a boyfriend whatsoever.

Jungkook knows his way in the city. You’re not surprised - he grew up here, and he told you he usually spends his summers back home as well to work and make enough money for the year. What you’re surprised about is that the streets down which he starts driving once you’re passed the traffic and into the city proper look expensive, exuding wealth that you could only ever wish to know.

It only increases when he parks his car in the underground parking garage of a huge skyscraper which apparently holds condos and the like.

At least that’s what he says. 

“Leave your bag in the car,” Jungkook tells you as you’re about to fetch your duffel bag from the backseat. 

You cock an eyebrow in question. “Aren’t we here?”

He smiles mischievously, eyes shining in the white neon light of the underground garage. “I’m taking you shopping.”

“Why?” you burst out, looking down at yourself. “Are my clothes not good enough?”

He walks around the car, pulling you away from the car door by the hand before he shuts it behind you, leaning against it. 

“Trust me, peach, your clothes are perfect for me,” he says. “But I much prefer you without the clothes on.”

He winks, and you punch him in the shoulder, cheeks flaming.

“You’re insufferable,” you grumble.

“You like it.”

“I don’t.”

He smiles as you fake-glare at him, until you both start laughing. He extends a hand for you to take, and you let him engulf your small hand with his large one as he pulls you towards the elevator.

“Seriously though, I’ll get you a nice dress for tomorrow night,” Jungkook says as you reach the elevator, and he presses the call button. “Not that I don’t trust what you’ve brought,” he quickly adds before you could say anything. “More as a thank you for doing this for me.”

You narrow your eyes at him, yet you nod your head. Because who would say no to free clothes?

Certainly not you.

Jungkook pulls you behind him in the elevator when the doors slide open, and then presses on the ground floor. Once you get off, he’s quick to guide you down a hallway that looks straight out of a fancy hotel - marble floors reflecting the light of the sconces on the walls, abstract paintings at regular intervals on the wall to the left, over dark oak tables with white flowers in crystal vases. 

The hallway even smells expensive, and you throw a curious glance to Jungkook.

“Where are we?” you ask, unable to help yourself.

He glances at you over his shoulder, winking at you. “Home.”

“This is what you call home?” you ask, thinking about the small apartment you grew up in on the poor side of the city you hail from.

He shrugs. “I feel more at home back in college, but yeah, I grew up here.”

“Jungkook,” you say, tugging on his hand to stop him, but he’s determined, his steps unfaltering.

You grumble under your breath, yet you follow him out into the early evening setting sun, the doors of the building golden. You don’t ask the questions that are burning in your mind - what do his parents do for a living? Why didn’t he mention he was rich?

Why does he live in that small, old apartment with you and Taehyung if he can afford so much more?

The questions spin in your head like they are a tornado of thoughts, and they only increase in speed as he pulls you to an Yves Saint Laurent store, pushing the door open as if he owns the place.

Could he…?

“Jeon Jungkook!” a middle-aged lady greets him, her face lighting up as you come into view. “We haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Hey, Mrs Smith,” Jungkook answers. “Meet my girlfriend.”

He tugs on your hand, forcing you to step out from behind him, and you blush as the lady appears. She’s tall, though you believe it might be because she’s wearing stilettos, and her skirt and blazer combo makes her look like a businesswoman. 

The nametag on the blazer is a clear indication that she isn’t, though. No, she visibly works here.

“Hello,” you awkwardly say, not knowing what else to say as she looks you up and down.

“Are you here for a new wardrobe?” she asks, the question directed towards Jungkook as if what you’re wearing is the ugliest outfit anyone has ever come up with before.

You try to not take offense, yet you find yourself momentarily clenching your jaw as Jungkook replies, “No, just for a dress for Junghyun’s engagement party.”

Mrs Smith nods, and she motions towards what looks like a small scene in front of multiple mirrors. It’s the kind of thing you’ve seen before in period pieces, where the seamstresses take the ladies’ measurement. So you’re not entirely surprised when Mrs Smith pulls out a measuring tape from a hidden pocket in her blazer, and you let her do her work, your eyes on Jungkook as he watches with an amused smile on his lips.

“You could have warned me,” you say, and Mrs Smith looks up towards you, the frown on her features convincing you to shut up until she’s done.

Jungkook only laughs, saying, “I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

He does. He certainly does, and though it’s pissing you off, there’s something endearing about the way he’s watching from that couch, the small smile on his lips softening his features. 

You fall silent as Mrs Smith keeps working, and soon she’s sauntering off, the sound of her stilettos click-clacking slowly fading. You immediately climb off from the little scene, storming towards Jungkook.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were rich?” you ask.

He shrugs. “Does it change anything?”

“It doesn’t.” You look around, not quite believing that you’re standing in a designer store. “But then it does.”

He pouts, the expression so adorable you feel like leaning in and kissing him. It’s startling, and before you can do anything, Mrs Smith comes back with a light blue dress she wants you to try on. You follow the lady to the dressing room, and Jungkook offers you a wink as you glance at him over your shoulder.

Mrs Smith leads you into the room, and it’s way too large for just a dressing room. She leaves the dress on a hook against a wall, in front of a tall standing mirror, and you thank her as she gets out, gently shutting the door behind her.

Which leaves you alone with your thoughts, and with the fact that Jungkook wants to buy you a designer dress. 

You take a look at the dress. It’s beautiful, the colour eerily similar to that of a summer sky, yet maybe somewhat a little paler. You step towards it, searching for a tag, but you can’t find any. The softness of the fabric is a clear indication that it is probably worth more than everything you own combined together, and you anxiously take off your clothes to put it on.

One look in the mirror makes you feel like a princess. Like you’re the one someone might write a story about, or sing a song to. Even though your hair is a mess and you’re not wearing any makeup, you feel more beautiful than you’ve ever felt before.

The dress hugs your curves perfectly, enhancing them in all the right places. It looks like it was tailor-made for you, and for a moment you believe you’re in love.

You really do think you’re in love when you shyly step out of the dressing room for Mrs Smith to finish zipping the dress up, and Jungkook looks up from his phone to look at you.

The smirk on his lips slowly dies down, and his gaze doesn’t move from you as you step closer. You don’t think he’s blinking, or even breathing, and you truly feel like the most beautiful woman in the world right now.

“Do you like the dress?” a female voice to your left says, but you can’t look away from Jungkook.

You’re entranced, and it seems that he is too. Like you’re the center of the universe, or maybe that’s him - it’s hard to tell.

“We’ll take it,” Jungkook says after a moment, and he gets up. 

Towering over you, he tilts your head back with a finger on your chin, and you gulp as your gazes connect.

“On the family tab?” Mrs Smith asks. 

“Yes.”

“How much is the dress?” you can’t help but query, turning your head towards Mrs Smith.

She regards you with an eyebrow cocked, before glancing at Jungkook. “10,350 dollars, miss.”

Your mouth falls open as she walks away, and you immediately look back towards Jungkook.

“No,” is all that you say.

He flicks your nose. “Don’t cause a scene, peach.”

“I’m not causing a scene,” you say through gritted teeth. “This dress is worth more than a year of my share of the rent.”

“And? Your point?”

You roll your eyes, folding your arms on your chest. “I’m not letting you buy this.”

“Well too bad for you, it’s already paid for.”

He winks at you again, and then plops back down on the couch, his smirk widening into a grin that makes butterflies come to life in your stomach.

It’s a feeling you don’t like, so you turn your back on him, heading back to the dressing room. With new respect for the dress, you slowly take it off, treating it reverently. Once it’s safely back on the hanger, you put your clothes back on, hands shaking a little at the enormity of what Jungkook just did.

Though, to him, it doesn’t seem like it was a lot. Indeed, when you get out of the dressing room, leaving the dress behind because you don’t dare touch it again, Jungkook springs up from the couch, offering you his hand.

And even though you feel like maybe you don’t really know anything about him, you take his hand. His fingers close around yours, gently, and he offers you a smile that makes you warm like spring days, when the world is coming back to life.

And as you walk behind him, you think maybe, maybe this weekend is a great opportunity to get to know him better. To get to know the man that hides behind the cocky behaviour, the one you’ve seen on multiple occasions already.

Though it should scare you, the thought only makes you hold onto Jungkook’s fingers a little tighter. He reciprocates, and it’s with a heart beating wildly that he waits with you for Mrs Smith to bring the dress over, safely hidden in a dress bag. Jungkook takes it for you, and then he pulls you behind him.

You’re soon swallowed by the New York city bustling crowd, though Jungkook is a lighthouse in the storm and you feel safe.

You feel safe with him, and that, more than anything, scares you.

*****

“You’re shitting me,” is all you say when Jungkook leads you into his room, once you’re back at the condominium in which he grew up.

You’d gathered enough information to know that he was rich. But you didn’t think he was rich rich - the condo he grew up in is on the two highest levels of the skyscraper, with an unparalleled view of Central Park that’s making you feel like you’re a bird soaring in the sky.

Jungkook laughs behind you as he shuts the door, dropping your duffel bag and his next to it. You’ve been carrying the dress up, treating it like the treasure that it is, and Jungkook gently takes it from your hand as he walks away, disappearing in what you can only assume is his walk-in wardrobe. 

He pops back out a few seconds later, minus the dress bag, and he offers you a smile that’s even more blinding than the city view. “No, I’m not,” he says.

You chuckle, cheeks burning for a reason you don’t quite understand, and then you scan his room. It’s cold, empty, void of the quality that makes his room back at the apartment feel like his. This room is impersonal, the kind of room you’d see in interior design magazines, with the black bed covers and equally as dark walls. Light comes from behind the bed frame, yet the true beauty of the room is that of the city, and you take it in as you step closer to the floor-to-ceiling window that is the wall at the foot of the bed.

“I can’t believe it,” you murmur. “This is so beautiful.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

You slowly nod, glancing towards Jungkook. “I can’t believe you chose to live in that shitty apartment with Tae when this is what you were accustomed to.”

He shrugs, not answering anything, as he instead heads to where he left the duffel bags so that he can carry them into the walk-in. You follow him then, curious to see what the rest of his bedroom looks like.

The walk-in is empty, save for a corner that holds a couple of suits you imagine to be from different designer brands. You notice a few dress shirts over there too, but your gaze focuses on the PC setup that’s in between two walls of shelves.

Finally, something that feels like Jungkook.

You walk towards it, rolling the chair back so that you can sit in it. Jungkook drops your duffel bag on the shelf behind you, and you turn your chair so that you can face him.

“You want to play?” he asks.

“What games do you have?”

He leans towards you, and you catch a whiff of his cologne as he turns the PC on. 

“Honestly I don’t remember what’s downloaded on the PC,” he truthfully replies. “Just check out my Steam account.”

And then he’s walking towards the other side of the walk-in, heading towards what you can only assume is the bathroom. You spring up from the chair, and it rolls behind you from the sudden motion as you jog to the bathroom.

You’re not surprised to see just how expensive the bathroom looks. Black tiles cover the floor, and they climb the walls of the walk-in shower next to which a wide-standing cabinet with glass doors is. A proper look at the shower shows that it’s one with multiple shower heads, and you already know the shower you’ll take later will be heavenly, clearly the best you’ll ever take in your life. Jungkook leans on the counter, folding his arm on his chest as he watches you taking everything in, your gaze wide from awe.

“You don’t even have a bath,” you comment, and Jungkook bursts out laughing.

“I never needed one. But if you want to take a bath, there’s one in the bigger bathroom on this level.”

“Isn’t it connected to like… your parents’ room or something?” you ask.

He shrugs. “Yeah, but my parents haven’t stayed here since I was five,” he reveals. “They prefer staying at hotels.”

You furrow your brow. “They have such a nice condo and they don’t even enjoy it?”

Another shrug of Jungkook tells you that he, too, doesn’t understand his parents. 

“If you want, I can give you a tour of the whole place,” Jungkook suggests after a beat of silence.

Your eyes light up, and you nod forcefully. “Yes. Please, I’d love to.”

He laughs at your enthusiasm, before motioning towards the toilet. “I do have to go to the bathroom first, if you’ll excuse me.”

Cheeks burning, you mumble an apology that makes him laugh as you step out of the bathroom, and he gently closes the door behind you. Embarrassed, you make your way back to the gaming setup, and you watch the landscape picture of the welcome screen. Pressing on enter reveals that Jungkook doesn’t have a password for the computer, and a moment later his Steam library appears in front of your eyes.

Obviously he’s got every game you can imagine, and you don’t have time to go through the whole library before he’s out, ready to give you the tour. And the rest of the condo is just as impressive as Jungkook’s bedroom is, though the whole thing feels… empty. Void of life. Which, you assume it is considering his parents don’t live here most of the time, and his brother owns a city house with his fiancée. 

Your favourite part ends up being the kitchen, even though you don’t cook. But who wouldn’t like the beauty of the marble counters, of the white cupboards and of the impressive glass chandelier that hangs over the long dinner table?

You end up sitting on a stool at the island, watching Jungkook as he moves through the kitchen. He finds instant noodles in the pantry, and he comes out of it with a wide grin on his lips.

“Found dinner,” he says.

You laugh. “You’ve got such a nice kitchen and all you’ll cook are some instant noodles?”  

He narrows his gaze at you. “You have a problem against instant noodles?”

You snort, shrugging your shoulders. “No.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, but he drops it, focusing on making food for the two of you. It takes a few minutes, but he’s soon sitting next to you, two bowls of noodles wafting steam in front of you. It smells good, if not a bit spicy, and you grab the chopsticks he put out for you.

“Thanks for the food,” you tell him, flashing a grin to him that makes his features soften in a far too dangerous way for you.

So you look away, cheeks dusting in pink, and you start eating. Though the noodles are indeed spicy, you endure the burn, finding that you actually enjoy it a little bit. Maybe because it’s distracting you from the thought that you’re with your brother’s best friend - you ought to stop thinking about it anyway.

Here, Jungkook isn’t Taehyung’s best friend. Here, he’s just Jungkook, and you’re just you.

Saturday March 9th

You feel like an impostor. 

The venue for the engagement party is luxurious, nestled on the top floors of one of the many skyscrapers of Manhattan. The people in attendance are all dressed to the nines, as if trying to impress. 

Or you’re just impressed because you’ve never seen so many designer clothes in such a place before. 

The floor is made of shiny marble, the ceiling high. A huge, glass chandelier hangs from it, and multiple columns are decorated with shiny golden garlands. In one corner, in front of tall windows overlooking New York City, a photobooth is set up, but you’ve remained clear of it so far.

You and Jungkook are both aware that you can’t risk having pictures of you taken. Not when they could easily be found by Taehyung, or by other people from back at college.

Like Ria, who questioned you for hours when you said you were going to spend the weekend in New York…

You know you’ll be grilled when you get home, but you push that thought aside, much like you’ve been putting all thoughts of your regular life aside. Jungkook has been making it easy - his smile and laughter, ever so constant yesterday evening, has been grounding, and though he does seem anxious right now, he’s remained by your side, making sure to put you at ease.

You haven’t met his parents or brother yet, but he’s introduced to some cousins that approached you, some of them surprisingly only speaking Korean. Jungkook bridged the gap between you and them, translating when needed, and they have now moved to the refreshment table, adorned with a pyramid of champagne glasses you’ve imagined toppling over at least fifteen times since you’ve arrived.

You really do feel like an impostor at the sight of all the easy luxury. Of the Louboutin high heels, the Louis Vuitton purses, the expensive suits and dresses everyone is wearing. The vast room smells rich, and it truly isn’t your crowd.

“Smile, peach,” Jungkook says, nudging you with his elbow.

Your gaze slides to him, and as it’s been doing since you finished getting ready earlier, your breath catches in your throat. There’s just something about the pale pants and the light blue dress shirt he’s wearing that makes him seem even more attractive than you’ve always found him. Maybe it’s the way the fabric stretches on his chest, revealing his hard-earned muscles. Or maybe it’s the vulnerability in his gaze.

He doesn’t seem more comfortable than you in this crowd.

“You smile,” you throw back at him, and he immediately does, a low laugh shaking through him.

“Do you want something to drink?”

You look down at yourself, wincing. “I’m afraid I’ll ruin the dress.”

“So you’re just going to stand still the whole evening because you’re afraid to ruin your clothes?” he teases.

You clench your jaw, rolling your eyes. “Precisely.”

“Loosen up, peach,” Jungkook insists, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes you think maybe he needs you to.

Maybe he truly does need your support at this fancy party. So you find yourself accepting to get drinks, and you’re almost done with the first glass when Jungkook tenses next to you, freezing like a deer in headlights. 

His doe eyes are on the doors, and you look in the direction to see an older woman and man walking in, the woman’s hand on her husband’s arm. You see a little bit of Jungkook in them - the woman’s eyes are Jungkook’s, and the man has the same nose and lips - so you immediately know that they are Jungkook’s parents.

The woman scans the room, and her eyes stop on you. In the distance it’s hard to tell if she looks happy to see her son - she barely even reacts, though she tugs her husband in your direction. You glance to Jungkook, but he really does seem frozen.

“Are you okay?” you ask, resting a hand on his arm.

He startles, toying with his piercings with his tongue before nodding curtly. “All good.”

You look towards his parents, and they’ve already crossed half of the room.

“Is that…” you trail off, knowing how rhetorical the question is.

“Yep.”

“What should I do?” you ask, tugging on his arm.

His eyes snap to you, and they’re void of the warmth you usually recognize in them. They’re like chips of ice - empty, cold, and something aches in your chest.

“Just be yourself.”

You offer him a small smile. His gaze is quick to drop to it, and you see the moment it warms. You see the moment he realizes he’s not alone, not right now, even though this is all but a subterfuge.

You’re not his girlfriend, but you’ll sure as hell try to be the best friend you can be for him right now.

“Jungkook,” his mother says as she stops in front of you, and your gaze slides to her.

She looks regal, standing ramrod straight with a steely look on her face. She spares you a quick glance, cocking an eyebrow before resuming her attention on Jungkook.

“Mother,” Jungkook replies in the same cold, formal tone.

“Glad to see you came around and decided to come.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “I wanted to introduce Y/n to the family.”

Heart beating out of your chest, you look up to Jungkook, observing the firm set of his jaw. He seems determined, like a man going into battle, and you wonder if that is what it is.

If Jungkook brought you here to rile his family up.

His mother finally truly takes you in, her eyes skimming over you. “I don’t think we know each other,” she says, and there is so much contempt in her voice you furrow your brow.

“I don’t think so,” you answer, trying to sound as polite as you possibly can. You bow your head, meeting her gaze when you straighten. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Jungkook’s father pats his wife’s hand. She lets him go, almost reluctantly, and he walks away, heading to a group of men that seem far too happy to see him.

You wonder if you should take offence to him walking away when you just tried to introduce yourself, though the way Jungkook is staring at his mother lets you know that the true opponent of this battle is the woman in front of you, and not the man that just left.

“Likewise,” she replies, and this time she doesn’t hide the contempt from her voice at all. It drips to her features, and she scrunches up her nose in disgust, looking down at the high heels you’re wearing.

A simple pair of high heels you’ve bought for your high school prom, that you’ve been reusing whenever you have the occasion.

“Nice shoes,” Jungkook’s mother says, and you can tell that she means it as an insult. 

You clench your jaw, cocking an eyebrow as you get ready to reply, but Jungkook intervenes with a stern, “Mother.”

“You thought dressing her up in a nice dress would make us forget that she’s not from our class?”

The insult is stark, and you widen your gaze as your heart rate spikes, your blood heating up in your veins.

“Excuse me?” you let out, unable to resist.

Jungkook’s mother meets your gaze. “At least she’s got a tongue on her.”

“And I’ll ask you to make a fucking effort for once,” Jungkook spits.

She frowns. “Do not curse, boy. It doesn’t suit you.”

He laughs, a short, dry sound that makes the hair dress on your arms. She clenches her jaw, a muscle feathering under the skin, and you wonder where Jungkook learned to be warm. Where he learned to smile like he’s lighter than a feather, like he’s never known any atrocities. Because standing here, you realize just how cold his upbringing must have been like.

And it’s strange. The little boy in the picture on his bedside table was all smiles, eyes crinkling with joy. You’d assumed the picture had been taken by his parents, but now that you’ve met his mother, you highly doubt she’s ever been the source of a smile on Jungkook’s lips.

While you’ve been thinking, Jungkook and his mother were stuck in a staring contest, a battle of will that Jungkook wins. Indeed, his mother sighs deeply and then turns towards you again.

“Where do you come from?” she asks.

You gulp under the scrutiny of her gaze, yet give her the answer.

“What do your parents do for a living?”

You tense, for that is an answer that even Jungkook doesn’t know. 

“My mother is a nurse,” you reply. You feel Jungkook’s curious gaze on your profile, but you resist glancing at him. “And I do not know my father.”

Jungkook’s mother blinks once, and then she focuses on her son. “Junghyun will be happy you came.”

She leaves without saying another word, and you’re left staring at her retreating form, wondering if it’s just you or if she’s the rudest person you’ve ever met.

“I apologize for this,” Jungkook says, and his arm drops from your shoulder.

You immediately miss it.

“I think I’m starting to get why you wanted me to come with you,” you say, and you finally meet his gaze.

He’s slightly pouting, lips barely jutting out, yet there’s something endearing about the expression on his features. “I honestly didn’t think she would be flat-out rude like that.” He downs what’s left of the champagne in his flute and then puts it down on the tray of a server as she walks past. “I promise we can go home as soon as Junghyun shows up and sees that I came.”

“We can stay longer too,” you reassure him. “I can handle the aristocracy.”

The frown on his features melts, and he lets out a small laugh. “The aristocracy?”

You nod. “Yeah. Because obviously we aren’t from the same class.”

“Fuck, peach,” he grumbles, shaking his head, yet there’s an amused sparkle in his gaze that makes you feel warm all of a sudden.

It’s like you forget all about his mother, and about his avoidant father. It soon becomes clear that he is avoiding Jungkook, not you, and you feel bad for the man beside you. 

He deserves a family that treats him better than the one he has, or so you believe. And it’s not like you know them at all - the dynamic is just off, and it’s unlike what you’ve personally known growing up.

If you forget about the fact that you don’t have a father and that your mother worked so much while you were growing up that you barely saw her.

Junghyun and his fiancée show up an hour later, fashionably late. You and Jungkook have been drinking more, and you feel buzzed from the alcohol, warmth swimming through your body. It’s only amplified every time you meet Jungkook’s gaze, every time he tugs you a little closer, and you think you’ll be drunk by the end of the evening, just because of him.

He’s inebriating after all.

Junghyun notices his brother across the space, and unlike his parents, his face breaks into a large grin, one that resembles that of Jungkook, and he immediately makes his way towards you. He’s much more relaxed than his parents, with an easy going vibe to him, and the way Jungkook relaxes makes you think that Junghyun, contrary to his parents, is not an asshole.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Junghyun says as he stops in front of you, immediately pulling Jungkook into a tight embrace.

Jungkook beams under the attention of his older brother. “I thought it’d be a good surprise.”

“It sure is,” Junghyun agrees as he pulls away. His eyes slide to you, and you offer him a tentative smile that he easily reciprocates. “And you are?”

“My girlfriend,” Jungkook says before you have time to say your name. “From college.”

Junghyun nods, meeting your gaze again. “Nice to meet you.”

You echo the sentiment as his fiancée - Nara - stops next to Junghyun, politely greeting Jungkook. 

You end up speaking with the pair for a little while. They both are a lot more welcoming than Jungkook’s parents, and Jungkook seems to be vibrating with happiness by the time they have to move away, needing to greet the other guests in the room. Meanwhile the sun has set outside, and you take a moment to admire the view as Jungkook goes to grab a refill for you both.

“I must admit he has a lot of nerves to bring you here,” a voice says next to you, and you turn to notice his mother, her arms folded on her chest.

Though your heart skips a painful, anxious beat in your chest, you only face the world outside again. “And why is that?”

She scoffs. “He’s technically engaged to someone.”

The world stops turning, and you glance at his mother. She sports a small, wicked smile, like she knows Jungkook didn’t tell you.

“What do you mean?” you can’t help but ask, your hands turning clammy.

She shrugs. “His father and I have discussed it with another family. We’ve deemed it better if they marry.”

“Does he even know her?” you spit.

She chuckles condescendingly. “Look at you. You really think you fit in our world? Your mother clearly hasn’t raised you for it.”

You fully face Jungkook’s mother, nails digging in your palms as you clench your fists. “I’ll have you know that my mother raised me well, and raised me to know privilege where it is. Just because you happened to be born rich doesn’t make you any better.”

Her gaze widens, and you see Jungkook walking back towards you, two glasses of champagne in hands. He notices his mother, a muscle feathering under the skin of his jaw, and you don’t care to stay next to her before you start heading his way.

You meet in the middle of the room, and you wonder if your vision has grown blurry. You only understand your eyes have filled with tears when Jungkook curses under his breath, glaring at his mother over your head.

“What did she tell you?” he asks, voice gentle.

You shrug. “Nothing,” you lie, blinking the tears away.

But she didn’t tell you nothing, did she? 

“I’m really sorry,” he apologizes. “She’s…”

“It’s whatever,” you insist, interrupting him. “I just want to spend time with you.”

You just want to spend time with him because you’ve learned he’s technically engaged, if his mother wasn’t lying.

Does he even know it?

You successfully blink your tears away as Jungkook hands you a champagne glass, which you down in one long gulp.

“I’m flattered, peach,” he teases.

The champagne bubbles down your throat, and you swallow with a scrunch of your nose. When you’ve finished the glass, you hand it back to Jungkook, who takes it with one eyebrow cocked. He looks like he wants to say something, but then his brother starts to speak with a mic. The room ushers to silence, forcing everyone to listen to the speech. Jungkook’s frowning, eyes still on you, but after a few seconds he turns to look at his brother.

You wish you’d be able to listen to the speech, to focus on it, but all you can do is keep on blinking back the tears from snapping at Jungkook’s mother.

Here’s to making bad first impressions. 

And it’s not like it truly matters - you’re not even Jungkook’s real girlfriend. You’re just a friend, someone he brought along as a shield from his family. 

Or so you’re starting to realize. You can’t even blame him. If your mother was remotely similar to his, you’d always make sure to go home with someone to support you. 

The least you can do is be that for Jungkook.

When Junghyun finishes his speech, his fiancée moves closer to him, and they share a sweet embrace that looks a little too practiced for it to be genuine. Or it might just be you - if it had been you in their position, you’re pretty sure you would have wanted to kiss your fiancé stupid. But then again, you reckon it might be improper in this social class.

Jungkook’s mother might have a point - you really weren’t raised to know how to act around rich people.

Except Jungkook, that is, but that’s because you didn’t know he was rich before yesterday, and you doubt he cares anyway.

“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asks as servers start walking around with different appetizers, all of them looking far fancier than anything you’ve eaten in your life.

“Huh,” you let out as one of the servers stops next to you. “What’s this?” 

“Crab cakes,” the server answers, flashing you a quick, polite smile.

You glance at Jungkook. “I’m allergic to seafood.”

He snorts, and then wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go find something that doesn’t have seafood in it.”

You end up finding small vegetarian burgers, and though they are barely bite-size, you enjoy a couple of them despite their dryness. It’s not enough to satiate your hunger, and especially not enough for Jungkook, so when he suggests going out to a restaurant nearby, you jump on the occasion to say yes.

“Then wait for me here,” Jungkook indicates, and to your surprise he kisses your forehead before slipping away, heading towards where you can see his brother and father conversing. While he speaks to them, probably explaining that you’re going to go eat somewhere else, you admire the view again.  Cars zoom down in the streets below, each and every one of them carrying a different person with their own little life.

You feel small so high over the city. It’s sobering, and you feel like your mind is clearing from the buzz of the alcohol, from the remnants of the guilt you had for snapping at Jungkook’s mother. 

You glance over your shoulder, eyeing Jungkook as he stands as if frozen, his brother speaking in his ear. Junghyun slides his gaze to you, and you offer him a tentative smile that the man ignores. You’d even think that his eyes harden, but it’s hard to tell in the distance. Especially as he pulls away from Jungkook, claps his shoulder once and then walks away, his father in tow.

Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, and you wonder what it is that Junghyun said. Because the moment Jungkook turns and you see the look on his face, you know it must have been something harsh.

Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. It’s so vulnerable, so different from his usual cocky persona that you immediately make your way towards him.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

Jungkook just blinks looking at you, his eyes shining from unshed tears. You grab his hand, squeezing once, forgetting all about his mother being an asshole to you. No, all there is right now is Jungkook, and you want to make sure he finishes this evening with a smile on his face.

He deserves it after all.

“Hey, so where’s that restaurant you mentioned?” you query, switching tactics. 

Jungkook keeps looking at you for a few seconds, but he soon blinks a couple of times more, taking a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

He pulls you behind him in the crowd, and you don’t know what look he has on his face, but people literally jump out of the way. He’s walking quickly, and you struggle to follow him, but you know he needs to leave.

You’ve seen the sorrow in his gaze, and you don’t blame him for wanting to get away. Indeed, you just want to flee in the night too, and you’re thankful the moment the elevator doors slide to a close after you’ve retrieved your coats, and you’re finally left in a quiet silence of just you and him.

Jungkook looks at you, gaze heavy, and a second later he’s on you, hands cupping your cheeks as he backs you into the wall. You startle, yet you’re quick to melt in his touch, to kiss him back with the same intensity he offers you.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and you let him in, moaning softly as he drives his knee between your legs.

You didn’t expect him to kiss you. Especially not when nothing happened last night, some sort of awkwardness lingering in the air from being in his childhood room. But he kisses you languidly, all tongue and lips, his piercings pressing indents in your lower lip, and warmth pools at your core as the elevator goes down and down.

Anyone could walk in and catch you kissing, yet it doesn’t deter Jungkook, and neither does it deter you. Indeed, it only spurs you more, and your hands drop to his waist so that you can pull him closer.

The moment ends when the door slides open to reveal the ground floor, and Jungkook steps away from you, eyes dark with lust and shadows you don’t want to interpret. He smooths his shirt, offers you a tight-lipped smile that makes your heart clench in your chest, and then he’s walking out.

You’re quick to follow him, cheeks burning as someone at the reception eyes the two of you. You ignore them, hoping they can’t see how your lips are swollen from the kiss, and you all but have to jog to catch up with Jungkook by the time he reaches the doors.

He holds it open for you, yet you can’t meet his gaze as you step outside. Not when the engagement party was such a shitshow, not after he kissed you like that only to leave without saying anything.

The bustle of the New York City life engulfs you as you step out on the street, Jungkook in tow. To your surprise, his large hands close around yours, and you glance up to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry about…” he trails off, motioning over his shoulder.

You purse your lips. “About kissing me?”

The shadows partially lift in his gaze, warmth replacing them. “I’m not sorry about that at all,” he teases. “But I meant, about my family.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, squeezing his hand. “I’m happy I could be there with you.”

He remains silent for a few seconds of you holding each other’s gaze on the sidewalk, and then he cracks a smile, though it doesn’t entirely reach his eyes. “What would I do without you, mmh?”

You laugh, and it sounds truer than it feels. “What would you do indeed?” you tease.

He chuckles, pulling you closer so that he can hug you. You wonder who needs it the most - him, or you? Because the second his arms wrap around you, you snake yours around his waist, hiding your face in his chest. He smells good - like Dior Sauvage, you think - and for a moment you just want to stay right here, in his arms.

Until his stomach grumbles, a low rumble against your cheek that makes you burst out laughing.

“Someone’s hungry,” you tease, looking up at him.

He meets your gaze, nodding once. “Peach, I’m fucking starving.”

That makes you laugh even more, lifting the heaviness of the atmosphere somehow, and it’s with a smile tickling your lips that you make your way to the restaurant - a kebab place on the first floor of another skyscraper. You eat your fill, laughing around with Jungkook, doing your best to keep the shadows out of his gaze.

But they never fully lift, and you’re not close enough to him to ask what his brother told him that upset him so much. 

Mostly, you’re not close enough to ask him if he’s truly supposed to marry someone, or if his mother just said that to scare you off. It’s like walking a tightrope, and you’re one wrong move from falling to your death.

Yesterday, you would have said that Jungkook would catch you but today, the haunted look that creeps up on his gaze once in a while makes you think that perhaps he wouldn’t catch you at all. And though it saddens you, you don’t say anything.

You’ll have a better occasion later. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself as Jungkook loosely holds your hand after the restaurant, while you walk around aimlessly. He’s telling you stories about growing up, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he occasionally falls eerily silent, you’d think that he’s happy right now. He looks the part, beaming at you whenever your gazes connect, and it’s too easy to reciprocate.

You think it’s a good thing - you’re comfortable with Jungkook, even if the whole engagement party was weird. It only gets better when you near a club, and Jungkook stops with a mischievous look in his eyes that finally looks a lot more like the Jungkook that you know from college.

“Do you want to go clubbing?” he says.

You snort. “It’s not even nine pm.”

“And?” he presses.

“You want to go clubbing this early?”

He shrugs, grabbing your hand again to pull you towards the doorman. “We can sit and chat before the party starts.”

As a matter of fact, the party is already started inside the club. Indeed, it’s like you step in an alternate universe the moment you walk in, the crowd thick as they sway to the beat. You only understand that it’s a concert of some famous DJ when you’re stopped at the coat check because you don’t have any tickets.

To your luck, the girl informs you that there are a few tickets left, and you insist on paying since Jungkook bought you the overpriced dress you’re wearing.

The one you’ll likely ruin while partying.

The thought sobers you a little, up until Jungkook, buzzing with excitement, pulls you towards the bar after you’ve left your coats at the coat check.

“This is going to be fun,” he says over the loud music. 

You nod, though your mind is lingering somewhere back at the engagement party. “Are you okay?” you can’t help but ask.

Jungkook falls serious, clenching his jaw once. “It’s about my family, isn’t it?”

“Yes and no,” you say, worrying at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Tonight has been… weird.”

It’s unfortunately your turn to order, as the barman stops in front of you, and Jungkook quickly orders two gin and tonic for you both before resuming his attention on you.

“I know,” he agrees. “Family events are always weird around here.” He winces, shrugging his shoulders. “And if you want to speak about it, we can tomorrow. But right now I really just want to have a nice evening with you.”

He looks hopeful, lips jutting out in the trace of a pout, and his doe eyes hold so much softness you find yourself folding immediately.

He’s right - you want to have a nice evening with him too, and forget the shitshow that the engagement party was.

“Well then,” you say, offering him a corner smile that hints at mischief. “I hope you’re ready to party.”

He brightens, like the stars shining when there’s no light pollution. “Damn right, peach.”

The barman puts your drinks on the bar, and Jungkook hands you your glass. You grab the lime on the rim of the glass, squeezing it in the drink properly before dropping it amongst the ice cubes. Jungkook watches you, mirroring you after a few seconds.

“To partying,” you say, raising your glass.

Jungkook echoes, clinking his glass with yours and you both drink, the alcohol fresh and cold on your tongue. 

You linger by the bar long enough to finish your first drinks, talking about everything and nothing. By the time you’re taking your last sip, Jungkook is reminiscing about a party last semester, where Taehyung had tried hitting on a girl only to get rejected.

“He complained about it for weeks,” you remember. “Even though he was sleeping with…” You frown, unable to remember the girl’s name. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

Jungkook laughs. “Tae fucks around too much to remember everyone, I know.”

“As if you’re any better,” you tease, pushing him playfully.

He pouts, eyebrows bunching together as his doe eyes narrow. “I’m better now.”

“Are you?”

He moves closer to you, and your heart trips on itself in your chest as he rests his large hand on your waist, pulling you closer. “I definitely am.”

You don’t know who makes the move first. You just know that a second later, you’re cupping Jungkook’s cheeks, and his lips are on yours again. This time, he tastes of gin and lime, and a swipe of his tongue on your lower lip makes you sigh, your hands sliding to the back of his head to get lost in his soft hair. His hand rests flat on your back, as if to keep you from stepping away.

Like you would.

You don’t ever want to step away from Jungkook. Tonight, you think it doesn’t matter that he’s Taehyung’s best friend. It doesn’t matter that he is supposedly engaged to someone else. Right now, it feels like he’s yours - you’re foolish enough to believe that he is.

“Let’s dance,” Jungkook murmurs against your lips when he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours.

“Let’s grab something else to drink first.”

You grab Jungkook’s hand, pulling him closer to the bar again. He follows, his thumb soothingly rubbing circles on the back of your hand, and he doesn’t let go when you lean against the bar, attracting the barman’s attention.

“Are you up for some Jager bombs?” you suggest.

He smirks, looking downright devilish with the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I’d never say no to Jager Bombs.”

That’s how you find yourself downing two shots each, and you’re getting pretty tipsy by the time the show starts, and Jungkook pulls you onto the dancefloor. You dance and dance, the atmosphere electric, Jungkook’s laugh so contagious you think you might have caught a happy disease. Because you can’t stop smiling, you can’t stop laughing. 

It’s like the engagement party never happened and frankly, it’s what you needed. 

Jungkook pulls you closer in the middle of the crowd, kissing you languidly. You’re quick to kiss him back, to push your tongue in his mouth the moment his lips part to allow entry. He grunts in the kiss, in the intensity that takes on the two of you even though you’re in public.

You want him so bad. You’ve always wanted him badly, but right now it’s making your blood sing in your veins.

But the evening is young still, and so you return to dancing, your back pressed against Jungkook. You sway your hips to the beat of the music, and he guides your motions, head hanging low. He occasionally presses soft kisses on the side of your face, and your eyes flutter shut in contentment.

If you’d die right now, you think you’d die happy.

“Peach,” Jungkook whispers.

Your eyes flutter open as you glance at him. The intensity in his gaze makes you feel smaller than a speck of dust. “What?”

“Should we go home?” he asks.

You glance towards the scene, where the DJ is clearly in the middle of his set. “The show’s not over yet.”

“I know.” He nips at your jaw, and you tilt your head to the side to allow him access to your neck. He’s quick to press an open-mouthed kiss there.

You turn in his hold, finding his lips again. This kiss is hotter, like fire blazing bright, and you, too, want to head home. You want to get lost in him, in this moment of him being yours out in public like this.

“Fuck, JK,” you whisper when you pull away, breathing raggedly.

“What?”

“Kissing you like this, where anyone can see…” you trail off, glancing at the crowd.

Nobody is paying you any attention, yet you feel like you’re the center of the universe right now. Or maybe that’s Jungkook - he’s the center of your universe.

“It’s turning me on,” you finish in a breathy sentence meant just for him.

“Peach,” he says, voice low and husky. It ignites even more warmth inside of you, and you think you’re about to melt in his touch. “Then I’ll bring you here more often. I’ll show everyone that you’re mine, mmh?”

That you’re mine. You like the sound of those words in his mouth far too much, even though part of you wants to reply that you’re your own self, and don’t belong to anyone.

Perhaps you want to belong to him, and that in and of itself is a far too dangerous thought. But New York shines tonight, and you feel infinite.

You are infinite, as long as he’s by your side.

You stay for the rest of the DJ’s set, despite you both wanting to go home. Jungkook is touchy, yet respectfully so as you dance, never really touching you where you want him, but his hands lingering near every fiery spot in your body. The Uber ride home is spent in tense silence, as is the walk up to the elevators of his building.

He holds your hand through it all, refusing to let go, and you like it.

You like everything about this moment, right now. Like you’ve stepped into an alternate universe where you really are his, and you pray you’ll never have to leave.

The elevator doors slide open, and Jungkook pulls you in. You’re disappointed when you notice a middle-aged woman already riding the elevator from the underground parking lot, and Jungkook politely nods to her as he presses the button for the highest floor.

Fortunately, the woman gets off on the eighth floor, and you’re left alone with Jungkook. He’s quick to spring into action, pushing you back against the wall so that he can steal a languid kiss of tongues and lips, of getting lost in him until you fully lose touch with reality.

“Fuck,” you breathe as Jungkook leaves a trail of hot kisses from your jaw to your neck. 

He sucks a hickey below your ear, and you can’t help but moan lightly as you drag your hands through his hair, leaving it dishevelled.

The doors of the elevator slide open, and Jungkook startles, taking a step back from you. One glance down reveals the proof of his attraction for you, and you really are aflame, burning from the inside out.

“I need to take a shower,” you say. 

A cold, cold shower, before you combust irreparably.

“Okay,” Jungkook lets out, and he grabs your hand again to pull you to the door. 

You don’t know how he does it, but he refrains from kissing you when you’re in. You’d expected him to jump on you - you practically wanted him to - but Jungkook, ever so the gentleman, only leads you inside and to his room. 

You take in the city skyline, the beauty of being so high you feel like you’re flying. The city sparkles, lights shining on and on, and you glance at Jungkook.

His eyes shine with undiluted lust and another emotion you can’t quite put your finger on. You just know it’s ten thousand times better than the shadows that had lingered in his gaze after the engagement party, and you want to cling to it.

“Do you want to take a shower with me?” you suggest as he helps you out of your coat.

“Want me to wash your hair?” he teases, flicking your nose.

He’s your Jungkook again, and an excited thrill goes through you. 

“Yes,” you say, smirking. “Maybe if you’re nice I’ll wash your back.”

He narrows his gaze, though his lips curve upwards. “I’m always nice.” He puts your coat away in the walk-in wardrobe, emerging without his own coat, too.

“Are you?”

You let out a yelp as he bends to pick you up bridal style. “Always,” he says, pecking your cheek once as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you grumble as he carries you to the bathroom, putting you down on the counter. 

“I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not even a little bit sorry,” he teases, and he steals a quick kiss on your lips before stepping away from you to turn on the shower.

You watch him as he does so - he’s beautiful, with his dishevelled hair and big doe eyes he casts on you as he glances over his shoulder. He’s still smiling, his features so soft you can’t help but smile back, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“How hot do you want the shower to be?” he asks.

You smirk. “What kind of hot are you talking about?”

He rolls his eyes, though his light laugh fills the air. “Water temperature, dummy.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “Just put it how you like it.”

He nods, and he does so, adjusting the settings until the multiple shower heads are on, and steam soon starts to waft out of the shower.

Jungkook walks back to you, toying with his piercings. You scan his features, lingering on his eyebrow piercing, and then spread your thighs so that he can step between your legs. He does so, wrapping his arms around your middle, and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

He picks you up, putting you down on the floor. “Gotta get you out of your dress, mmh?”

Your heart once again hitches in your chest, and goosebumps rise on your arms as Jungkook lightly brushes his fingers up your skin.

“Turn around, peach,” he tells you.

You obey, and you watch yourself in the mirror as Jungkook unzips your dress. There’s something so intimate about the moment that your pulse skyrockets, butterflies making a mess of your stomach.

Jungkook finishes unzipping the dress, and he pushes it off your shoulders, pressing a kiss on the naked skin he’s revealed on the back of your shoulder. You feel apprehensive, like he hasn’t seen you naked before, and you gulp as he lets go of the dress, and it falls to the floor to pool around your ankles.

“You know,” Jungkook breathes as you shiver, the air colder than you expect. Your nipples perk on your chest, and Jungkook is quick to wrap his arms around you so that he can tease the sensitive buds with his fingers. “Every time I see you, you get more beautiful.”

“Jk…” you breathe out, cheeks burning under the intensity of his gaze.

“It’s true,” he insists. He turns you around, his eyes lost in yours. “There’s something about you…” he trails off.

He never finishes the sentence as you stand on your tiptoe, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt. Your mouths collide, and you sigh against the plump softness of him, kissing him softly, tenderly. He kisses you back just as softly, his hands holding you by the waist.

“Peach…” he sighs.

Your eyes flutter open to find him already looking at you, and you do feel like the most beautiful woman in the world when he looks at you like that.

“I think you’re supposed to undress too,” you whisper.

He chuckles softly, taking a step back from you. “Wanna help?”

You gulp again, your throat feeling dry, yet you raise trembling hands in the space between you so that you can reach for the buttons of his shirt. You focus on the task at hand, on every inch of honey skin revealed by the buttons coming undone. Jungkook’s intense gaze doesn’t leave your face as you undress him, and soon you’re pushing his shirt off him, resting your hands flat on his chest.

His heart is racing under your palms, the only indication that this is affecting him just as badly as it’s affecting you.

You meet his gaze as he takes charge of taking off his pants, and soon they’re on the floor with your dress and his shirt, and you both stand in your underwear, gazes embracing.

“I’m so going to take my time with you tonight,” he breathes, cupping your cheek. His thumb gently swipes at your skin, and you instinctively lean your head into his palm.

“Yeah?” you let out.

He tilts your head back with a finger under your chin, and then he’s kissing you again, as if to prove it to you with actions rather than words. “Definitely,” he says the second he pulls away. And then his hands go down your body, slowly, finding the hem of your panties. “Can I take this off?”

You nod, and he drops to his knees. Your eyes widen, yet he only busies himself with taking your underwear off, helping you step out of it once it’s around your ankles. He gets up again after, and he pushes his boxers down.

You’ve been avoiding looking at the obvious bulge in his underwear, but his dick stands proud and tall the second you glance down, already leaking precum. 

He’s been wanting you badly, and it shows.

“Shit, Jungkook,” you breathe.

“I know,” he lets out. “I’m fucking hard for you.” He chuckles, and grabs your face to force you to meet his gaze again. “From the mess I saw in your panties, I know you’re already soaked for me too.” He pecks your lips, and then your forehead. “But shower first, right?”

You kiss again, and this time he sucks your lower lip into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth.

“Shower first,” you repeat the second you pull away.

He smirks, winking at you, and then he walks over to the shower, leaving you there with your heart beating out of your chest. You take a deep breath, trying to tame the wild beats, and soon enough you follow Jungkook, right when he steps in the shower. He holds the glass door open for you, closing it behind you once you’re in, hot water splashing you.

You face Jungkook, and he looks at you with his head tilted to the side, a smirk playing on the corners of his lips.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he answers. “Pass me the soap?”

You nod, gulping, and you look away from him to find the soap. You grab it, handing it to Jungkook, and he gently takes it out of your hands.

“Turn around,” he tells you for the second time tonight. “I’ll wash your back.”

“Shouldn’t you start with my hair?” you ask.

He chuckles. “So bossy. Wet your hair then.”

You obey, and soon enough Jungkook is rubbing shampoo on your scalp, and your eyes flutter shut as you relax into the touch. He rinses your hair when he’s done, and then takes care of the conditioner.

“You like being pampered, don’t you?” he teases.

“Only if you’re the one pampering me,” you fire back. 

He laughs, and he presses a soft kiss on your forehead again. “Then I guess I need to pamper you more.”

You’re falling. You know exactly what’s happening, and you wonder if he feels it too.

“Let me take care of you,” you say once Jungkook is done with washing your hair.

He smiles down at you, nodding once. “Okay.”

And so you wash him, cleaning his back first. You teasingly rub his ass, and Jungkook throws you a glare over his shoulder that makes you burst out laughing. Once you’re done he turns around, and you gently rub his chest, a smile still curving your lips upwards as you fall in comfortable silence.

He isn’t so hard anymore. Yet, when your hands get lower on his abdomen, his dick twitches, and he’s quick to get hard again. You cock an eyebrow, looking up at him.

“I barely touch you and this is how you react?” you tease.

He grabs your jaw, his grip firm. “And now you’ll clean my dick too, won’t you?”

You blush, nodding once as he lets go of your jaw to cup your cheek instead. You wrap a hand around the base of his dick, and then you stroke him once. His lips part, and he pulls on his piercings before looking down at himself. 

“Let me…” he trails off, and you nod, stepping away from him to let him clean himself. You quickly wash yourself as he does so, cheeks burning so much you wouldn’t be surprised if you were purple.

Once you’re both cleaned, you face Jungkook again, and he offers you a soft smile. Unable to resist, you look down at his dick, reaching for him again.

“Now that you’re clean…” you let out, and you smirk. “Maybe I can actually take care of you?”

You don’t know where the courage comes from, but you’re not going to waste it. Indeed, you immediately drop to your knees, and Jungkook redirects the shower heads away from your face.

“Yeah?” he lets out. “You want to suck me?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip, and then you jerk him off once, eyes moving to his dick. It’s pretty, though not as hard as he was earlier, and you tentatively swirl your tongue around his tip, before sucking on it lightly.

Jungkook curses under his breath, leaning a hand against the wall as if looking for support. “Don’t be shy,” he says.

You smirk again, and this time you drag your tongue on the side of his dick, from base to top, before wrapping your lips around him again. You hollow your cheeks as you take most of him in your mouth, and Jungkook moans softly when he hits the back of your throat.

“Shit…” he lets out.

You suck harder as you pull almost all the way off, and then you truly get to work, eyes fluttering shut as you suck him, jerking him off in time with the motions of your head. Jungkook holds your head, letting you set the rhythm you feel comfortable with, and soon you’re moaning on his dick, the vibrations making him curse.

You take him all the way in, looking up at him despite the tears blinding your gaze. He’s got his head thrown back, lips parted as he breathes heavily, chest moving rapidly. You wonder if you’d be able to make him come like this, and you suck harder, holding in the gag reflex that’s threatening to interrupt your ministrations on him.

“Peach,” he moans, and then he pulls out of your mouth.

A string of spit connects his tip to your lips, and you’re quick to lick at it, to taste the precum that’s dripping from his slit.

“That feels good?” you ask.

He nods. “Way too much,” he replies, chuckling breathlessly. “I’m going to fall in love with your mouth if you keep sucking me like that.”

You don’t need more to spur you into action, and you go back to sucking him, pouring everything you have in the action. His dick gets harder and harder in your mouth, and you know he has to be close. So you tentatively tease his balls with your free hand, and he moans as you squeeze lightly.

“Peach,” he lets out, and it sounds whiny. “Stop. I want to fuck you now.”

You pull out, offering him an innocent pout as you keep jerking him off quickly. “You don’t think you’d be able to go for round two?”

He chuckles, slightly shaking his head. “Not when I drank. And I really just want to make you feel good too.”

Only for that reason do you let him pull you up to your feet, and you reluctantly let go of his dick as he pushes you against the tile wall, mouth immediately finding yours in a ravaging kiss. You moan as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, and you go back to jerking him off, unable to keep your hands off him.

He hisses as he pulls away from the kiss, and then he glances towards his discarded pants on the floor beyond the glass door of the shower. “I have condoms in there,” he reveals, and then he meets your gaze again. “But you deserve better than to be fucked in a shower, mmh?”

You gulp, nodding once as he steals another quick kiss on your lips, and then he turns off the shower. You stand in the steam for a few seconds, holding each other’s gaze, and then Jungkook pulls you out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you. 

You’re quick to dry yourself, lust and desire clouding your mind, and you don’t hesitate when Jungkook grabs your hand, pulling you towards his bedroom. The walk-in is cold as you step out of the bathroom, but you busy yourself with watching the strong muscles of his back, and the tattoos on his arm. It’s distracting enough, and soon Jungkook turns to face you again, kissing you deeply before pulling away.

“Do you want me to close the curtains?” he asks as he steps away from you, enough so that your eyes fall to his erection.

“You think people can see us?” you let out, casting a quick glance towards the tall windows, and the city beyond.

“Maybe, if they’re looking up here,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s never bothered me, but I’ve never been with anyone in this bed, so…”

Your gaze widens. “You’ve never fucked here?”

You think it’s blush creeping on his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck. “I’ve never brought a girl here at all.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry what?”

He winks at you, eyes going down your frame. They stop on your perked nipples, and he toys with his piercings.

“You’re the first girl who’s ever come here,” he says. “The first one I’ll fuck in this bed. And maybe I do want the city to see me fucking you. I want them to see how beautiful you are when you come.”

You’re speechless as he strolls towards you, and his mouth collides with yours, his lips moving like he’s a starved man against yours. He pushes you towards the bed, and you fall on it the second the back of your legs hit it. He looks at you, wetting his lips, and then winks.

“I’ll be right back.”

He disappears back into the walk-in, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he retrieves a condom from his wallet. He inspects the tinfoil package on the way back, making sure that the condom is safe to use, and then he rips it open, pulling the condom out.

He puts it on, rolling it down his dick as you watch with your heart beating wildly again as it knows what’s to come.

No one has ever fucked you as good as Jungkook, and you can tell he won’t disappoint tonight either. No, the intensity in his gaze can’t be mistaken, and the second he kneels between your legs you spread your thighs wide open, offering yourself on a silver platter.

��Already?” he teases, and he strokes himself slowly. “I thought you’d need a little bit of foreplay before.”

“Trust me,” you let out. “I’m already wet enough for you to rearrange my guts.”

He smirks, and he moves closer, close enough to rub his dick on your folds. “You are.” He says it like he’s surprised, but the second he starts rubbing his dick on your clit you’re gone, unable to form logical thoughts. “So you want me to fuck you? To rearrange your guts?”

“Jungkook,” is all you can reply.

He teases your folds again, pushes in just enough for his tip to part them. “Tell me what you want, peach.”

“I want you,” you say, and you don’t care how whiny you sound.

You feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you into oblivion.

“Where?” he asks, and he pulls away to rub his dick on your clit again.

You clench your jaw, reaching for his dick, but Jungkook is quick to grab your hand with his free one, pinning your wrist over your head.

“Be nice, mmh?” he says in your ear, and then he straightens.

“I want you inside of me, Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” He pushes in, though he stops when just his tip is in. “Like this?”

“Fuck, stop teasing,” you grumble.

Jungkook laughs, and a second later he slams home, his dick splitting you open as he pushes almost all of himself inside of you. You moan, your eyes fluttering shut, and he barely gives you time to adjust before he grabs your waist, and he starts pounding you, setting an unforgiving pace.

His thrusts are quick and hard, and you see stars almost immediately, your walls clenching around him. It doesn’t slow him down, only makes him readjust himself until he hits a better angle, and you moan loudly as he drags against the sweetest spot inside of you.

“Jungkook,” you moan.

He bends down, slowing just long enough to lean on his elbow, and then he holds your shoulders as he jackhammers into you again, so hard his bed bangs into the wall repeatedly.

There’s no one to hear you fucking here. And he knows it - it’s like he’s keen on rearranging your guts, and you’re a whining, moaning mess as he fucks you hard. You hold onto his back, nails digging in his skin and Jungkook grunts in your ears as his pace never falters.

You know he’s got good stamina, but tonight feels different, like he’ll fuck you until the sun rises.

“Shit, peach,” Jungkook lets out, and he pulls out of you so suddenly you’re left gasping for air.

“Wh-” you start, but he flips you over, repositioning himself so that he can push inside of you again. 

He doesn’t move right away, instead massaging your ass cheeks as your walls clench around his dick, begging for more. He slaps your ass, not hard enough to hurt but enough to sting, and you clutch the bed sheets, pushing your hips back into him.

“You want some control, mmh?” he asks, and he pulls back just enough to allow you more movement.

It doesn’t take you long before you take advantage of it, fucking yourself back on him, rolling your hips when he hits your cervix. 

“You’re so big,” you let out on a whine. “So deep.”

“And you take me so well, peach.” He slaps your ass again, massaging the sting away. “Like your pussy was made for me.”

“It was,” you reply right away.

Jungkook thrusts once, and you rock forward on the bed from the intensity of his motion. Luckily for you, he was holding your waist, and so his dick doesn’t leave you empty.

“Good girl,” he says, so low it sounds like a growl, and then he’s back to pounding inside of you, and you’re a mess, trying to hold yourself together as you clutch the sheets.

Jungkook leans on one hand, snapping his hips into you again and again, and he wraps his free hand under you, blindly searching for your clit. The second he touches the sensitive bundle of nerves you moan loudly again, and he doesn’t need more to start rubbing figures on you, quick circles that send you into orbit so fast you barely realize your orgasm has hit you until you come down from the high, legs shaking as your vision keeps going in and out of focus.

Jungkook stops moving for a few seconds, bending down to press a feathersoft kiss on the side of your face. “You came hard,” he states.

“Holy fuck,” is all you can reply.

“One day, I want to feel you come on my dick without a condom on,” he says, and then he’s fucking you again, though this time he’s clearly chasing his own high.

Yet it feels good, far too good, and you come again - did you actually stop coming in the first place - as he rams his hips into yours. Jungkook milks it out of you, whispering filthy praises to you all along, and once he’s sure you’ve calmed down, he pulls out, flipping you on your back again.

He steals a kiss on your lips as he pushes in again, and this time he fucks you slower, deeper, lips never leaving yours. You lose trembling hands in his hair, run them along his back, and you wrap your legs around his waist for him to fuck you deeper. He doesn’t disappoint, and you take all of him in you as he pushes in, and then pulls almost all the way out.

“I’ll fall in love with your pussy,” Jungkook whispers against you. 

He rests his forehead against yours, and your heart fills with far too many emotions - none you can voice. 

“JK…”

“Peach,” he answers in the same tone, and then he kisses you again. The second he breaks from the kiss he straightens, going back to kneeling between your legs. “Now be nice and let me come, mmh?”

“Come for me.”

“On it.”

You don’t know when he comes. All you know is that you’re swimming in far too much bliss when he starts fucking you hard again, and you lose touch with your body. It’s like you’re floating somewhere close to the ceiling, or maybe amongst the stars up above. You’re floating, and Jungkook grunts and curses as he fucks you, his motions growing sloppier, and soon he stills deep inside of you, hands holding your waist as he releases loads and loads of cum in the condom.

You wish he’d come inside of you so you’d feel it drip out of you when he pulls out. It’s a dirty thought to have, yet you can’t help it - not when you’re literally swimming in ecstasy, feeling like you’re buzzing.

Jungkook lies down next to you, resting a hand on your stomach as you try to regain your breath. It takes you a while - long enough for him to kiss the side of your face and promise he’ll be back as he disappears in the bathroom - but you do come down from the high, the bedroom and the city beyond the windows finally coming back into focus.

It’s raining. You didn’t realize it before, but raindrops are racing each other on the window, and you get lost admiring the view as Jungkook cleans himself in the bathroom.

He comes back with a wet washcloth for you to clean yourself, and you thank him as he offers it to you. You know you have to go pee before you sleep though, so you brave the walk to the bathroom, legs feeling like jelly under you. You manage to make it to the bathroom and back, and Jungkook welcomes you back into bed with a tired smile on his lips.

“Come here,” he says, and he opens his arms for you to nestle in his embrace.

You do so, pushing one leg between his as you wrap one arm around his waist.

“Feeling okay?” Jungkook asks.

“I think I’ll need weeks to recover,” you tease, and Jungkook’s answering laugh makes you feel like you’re the luckiest girl in the universe.

“Does that mean I can’t fuck you for a few weeks?” he asks, and you hear the pout in his voice.

It makes you smile against him.

“Mmmh,” you let out. “Nah, I want you to fuck me like this again tomorrow.”

He laughs again, and his arms tighten around you. “Then we better get a good night of sleep. We need to drive back home tomorrow.”

Back home. Together. Because, even if he’s Taehyung’s best friend, which you’ve conveniently forgotten all weekend, he’s also your roommate.

You share a home, and you think there’s beauty in that thought.

You yawn, nuzzling your face in his chest. “I don’t know about you but I’ll sleep like a rock.”

“And snore?”

“I don’t snore,” you answer, frowning slightly.

Jungkook chuckles and then kisses the top of your head. “You snore a little. Not as much as me though.”

“Tell me about it,” you complain, even though his soft snores had acted like white noise yesterday, helping you fall asleep despite the unfamiliar environment.

He yawns, pulling even closer. “Peach?”

You hum in answer.

“Thank you for this weekend,” he whispers. “I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”

“Jungkook…” you trail off, wanting to argue.

“I’m serious,” he insists. “You’re…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, and you pull away just enough so that you can look up at his face. “I’m what?”

“You’re you,” he answers, as if that explains anything.

And when you see the softness clinging to his gaze, you think maybe it does.

Prev | Chapter 8.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

my two precious babies gosh we need to protect them at all costs fr :') did you guys like this chapter? Let me know what you think!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Just to Learn That You Never Cared

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret

requested/idea by @usoppsstar

Masterlist

“Oh, hey. Your girlfriend left this in class.” One of Peter’s classmates said as he tossed Peter a hoodie.

“Oh. Thanks.” Peter said before realizing what the person had said. He turned the hoodie over in his hands and recognized it as yours. His face warmed up in a blush when he realized you had just been mistaken for his girlfriend. He shoved the hoodie into his bag and wondered if he should tell you or not.

Peter saw you later that night on a rooftop you frequented often. You were in your suit, as was he, but had your mask sitting beside you. You were munching on a bag of chips and wordlessly extended them to him when he landed on the rooftop beside you. He smiled graciously and took a few before sitting down next to you. Your knees were touching but neither of you moved away.

“You left this in physics, dingus.” Peter said and handed you your hoodie.

“Oh, thanks. We had to run out of there so fast to save that lady. I must’ve left it behind.” You smiled gratefully and pulled it over your head. Peter felt bad that his high tech suit had built in heaters and your homemade suit was probably leaving you freezing every night. He wanted to suggest sharing his warmth, but he didn’t want to overstep.

“I know. Thank God she called the police on those kids for selling lemonade without a permit. I’m really glad we left a test to go witness that heinous crime.”

“It’s not all bad. We did get to see the cops arrest her for wasting their time by making a fake police report, which is always satisfying. And the kids gave us free lemonade. But I think calling it “homemade” was bullshit. I know Minute Maid when I taste it.” You replied, making Peter chuckle.

“You’re right. Both those things were enjoyable.” Peter agreed. “But I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I feel like we have to leave class every other day.”

“I know. Why did we have to pick a college in such a Karen ridden neighborhood?” You sighed.

“Because we wanted to go to the good school with the good science program. We should’ve known the neighborhood would be full of bored housewives who call the police whenever they have a minor complaint. It was our own hubris.”

“It was.” You chuckled and said looked over at him. You exchanged soft smiles before you looked over at the city horizon. Peters eyes never left you and he cleared his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh, my aunt and I were gonna get Chinese food later. At the place that got shut down for being a front for money laundering but that was really just a front for a second Chinese food chain.”

“Oh, I love that place.”

“Yeah. It’s great.” He nodded. “Anyways, you should totally come-“

Peter was cut off by the police radio he wired to his phone going off. He rolled his eyes and checked what the alert was.

“Damn it. Robbery at the bakery on 9th.” He told you.

“Lowkey, I’d do the same. Their cream puffs made me cream.” You said as you put your mask back on.

“Haha, yeah.” Peter chuckled. “Wait, what?”

“You should get some sleep. I’ll handle the robbery. But I’ll catch you tomorrow, Parker. Get home safe.” You saluted him before falling backwards off the building.

“I love you too.” Peter sighed.

“Did you say something?” You asked and popped back up.

“No.” Peter quickly lied.

“Okay. Well, see you tomorrow.” You waved to him and disappeared again. Peter let out another sigh before swinging home.

The next day, you ran after one of your classmates once class was let out.

“Hey, Carly. I emailed you my notes from the class you missed.” You told her.

“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.” She replied. “Oh, and could you tell your boyfriend that band practice is in the gym today?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” You agreed. She was about to walk away when you realized what she had said.

“Wait, what am I saying?” You wondered. “Who’s my boyfriend?”

“You know. That guy with the prescription shoes.” Carly answered. You tilted your head in confusion until you realized you knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Wait, Peter?” You laughed in surprise. You expected her to laugh too and reveal she was just kidding but she looked completely serious.

“Oh, right. Peter. Why do I always think his name is Timmy?” Carly wondered.

“Because he looks like a Timmy. He gets it all the time.” You waved your hand. “And his shoes are not prescription. He just bought women’s platform shoes because he wanted to be taller and didn’t think anyone could tell.”

“We can.” Carly mumbled.

“I know.” You agreed. “But, I’m getting off topic. Timmy is not my boyfriend. I mean, Peter is not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever label you guys use, can you tell him that wind ensemble is meeting in the gym instead of the choir room? The sopranos kicked us out again to practice or do drugs or something.” Carly explained. You furrowed your eyebrows at her and tried to figure out if she was joking or not.

“The label? I’m so lost. Who told you that Peter’s my boyfriend?”

“Nobody told me.” She shrugged. “Everyone just knows that you guys are a couple.”

“Well how would they know something that isn’t true?” You asked and folded your arms.

“I mean, it’s not like you guys try to keep it a secret. Between all the whispering and staying close by each other. Plus you’re always sneaking out of class together or showing up late. And if one of you is absent, the other always is too. It’s been like that since high school. People just put two and two together I guess. Why, did you want to to be secret?”

“I didn’t want it to be anything. We’re not even dating.” You insisted and felt like you were going crazy.

“You don’t have to deny it.” Carly laughed. “I know feelings are weird and gross and stuff and you’ve never been the relationship type, but I think this guy is good for you. He brings something out in you. I don’t know. But you guys are cute. I love seeing the nice loser and assertive pretty girl troupe in real life.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” You calmed down momentarily and smiled a little. Carly walked away and your smile quickly faded when you remembered what she had said. You looked around the hallway and saw another student holding an instrument.

“Hey. Band nerd.” You called out to him.

“Me?” He asked and pointed to himself.

“Yes, you. You had to let go of your saxophone case to point to yourself. Have you seen my boyfriend today?” You asked him.

“Peter? I haven’t seen him since yesterday in-“

“That sentence better not end with “wind ensemble” or I’m gonna lose it.”

“It was wind ensemble.” He said quickly.

“I’m leaving.” You shook your head and walked away from him. You pulled out your phone and went straight to your schools “campus sweethearts” page on instagram. Sure enough, there was a picture of you and Peter sitting next to each other right at the top of the page. You had your head thrown back laughing at something he was saying and he was looking at you fondly. You let out a shocked gasp and before walking out into the courtyard to look for Peter. You spotted him on a bench and smiled.

“Yes. Thank you, small campus”. You pumped your fist and went to sit next to him.

“Oh, hi. I was just thinking about you-“

“Someone is spreading a horrible rumor about you.” You cut him off.

“Oh no.” Peter frowned. “What is it? Is it bad?”

“Horrible.” You shook your head. “Peter, they’re saying you’re in wind ensemble.”

“Oh, I am.” Peter shrugged.

“Huh?”

“I play the clarinet . See. Clarinet.” Peter said and lifted up his little black clarinet case.

“Huh?” You said louder.

“I used to play in high school, pre-bite but post 9/11. I saw a flyer for orchestra on campus so I joined.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” You practically shouted. Peter knew you weren’t happy but felt strangely honored that you were so upset over him not telling you something about her personal life.

“Because I know how you feel about band nerds.” He replied. “And you and I don’t really talk about non-work related things. I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I care.” You insisted. “My rumored boyfriend has been in wind ensemble this whole time and I didn’t even know?”

“Wait, rumored boyfriend? Who, me?” Peter asked in surprised.

“So you didn’t know about this either?”

“No. I mean, someone did refer to you as my girlfriend the other day but I thought it was just an accident. People think you and me are dating?” Peter asked and tried not to look as pleased as he felt.

“Apparently. I’ve had multiple people refer to you as my boyfriend today. And look. We’re on the campus couples Instagram page.” You said and held up your phone.

“Ew. We have one of those?” Peter grimaced and took your phone to see the picture better.

“Yeah. I honestly think the principle runs it.” You replied. Peter was quiet as he stared at the picture for a while.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. This just a cute picture of us. And I think the only picture of us.” He said with a shy smile. You frowned and looked at the picture again before realizing he was right.

“Carly said people think we’re dating since we’re always sneaking off together.” You told him. Peter thought out this for a minute and then made another connection.

“Ohhhh.” He said and nodded his head.

“What?”

“This explains why the boys congratulated me on the bus back to New York after the Washington monument trip for losing my virginity at a historic landmark.”

“You lost your virginity on that trip? To who?” You whispered harshly and felt jealousy burning through your veins.

“You, apparently.” He laughed. “You and I disappeared to get the glowy alien egg bomb thing back and I guess everyone assumed we were off desecrating a national monument.”

“Oh my God. That was like 3 years ago.” You realized. “People have thought we were dating this whole time? We need to put a stop to this.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Or…” Peter trailed off and gave you a look.

“Or?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Or, we lean into it.” He suggested. “We let people think it. We encourage it, even.”

“Why would we do that?”

“People have been suspicious about where we go and what we’re doing since high school. We can only fake so many illnesses and I ran out of grandparents to lie about the death of by junior year. So if people already made up a reason, maybe we should let them think that. We don’t have to go out of our way to confirm it but we can keep the assumption going to keep them from finding out what we’re really doing.”

“So you think we should let people think we’re dating so they stop wondering about what we’re always off doing?”

“That’s exactly what I just said, yes.” Peter nodded.

“Hey. Be nicer to your fake girlfriend.” You said and smacked his arm.

“I’m sorry. I will.” Peter blushed and rubbed his arm. You felt bad for hitting him and wrapped both arms around him to rub them up and down. He smiled softly at you and you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“You play the clarinet?” You asked after a minute.

“Squidward made it look so cool.” Peter shrugged.

“Did he?” You asked, making Peter laugh.

“No.” He admitted.

The next day, you and Peter walked to school together with the understanding that from then on out, you were going to play the part of a happy couple. You weren’t going to go around announcing it to everyone or anything. You just needed to convince the few that didn’t already believe the rumor and confirm things for the ones who did believe it.

“You ready for this?” You asked Peter as you stepped into campus.

“I think so. Maybe we should hold hands or something. You know, since people think we’re dating.” Peter suggested and tried to make it sound like it didn’t matter to him.

“I guess so.” You shrugged and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took your hand and took note of the way it fit in his like it was made for him.

“This is weird.” You whispered to him, popping his bubble.

“Why? Are my hands sweaty?” He panicked.

“No. Just really, really hot.” You told him. “It’s just weird that nobody seems to care that we’re holding hands right now.”

“I mean, we are just two random people with almost no social presence.”

“That’s true. I guess I just thought people would care more.” You admitted as you looked around the campus. No one was phased by you and Peter, but he was too busy enjoying the moment to realize it.

“Are you disappointed?” He asked you.

“Yeah. I wore my best bra because I thought I’d be getting more attention today.” You frowned and adjusted the strap of your bra.

“It’s okay. I’ll take one for the team and stare at your boobs.” Peter assured you.

“Aw. Thank you.” You gushed and gave his hand a squeeze.

You got to your physics class and sat together at your usual lab table. Peter looked around the classroom while you carried on as usual.

“Maybe I should put my arm around you. You know, to really convince people.” Peter suggested with a shy blush on his face.

“Is that really something people do?” You genuinely wondered. “I feel like I never see couples with their arms around each other.”

“Actually, I don’t think I have either. But let’s try it anyway.” He said and wrapped an arm around you. You scooted closer to him so that you could comfortably lean into him. You quickly realized you didn’t hate it and let out a content sigh.

“Hm.” Peter made a little noise at the back of his throat.

“What?” You asked him.

“Our height difference makes this hurt my shoulder.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Then move your arm.” You whispered back.

“I can’t. I just wrapped it around you. It’ll look weird if I immediately take it off.” Peter said as he covered behind him to see who was looking.

“Or, consider this. Nobody in this entire city, and dare I say world, cares where your arm is right now.” You whispered harshly.

“Fine. I’ll remove it. But I have to give a reason.” He told you before loudly clearing his throat.

“Ah. Sorry, babe. I can’t cuddle you right now. My arm is sore from band practice.” Peter said loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear him. You hung your head in shame and heard people murmuring about his strange comment.

“Oh God.” Peter gulped. “People are looking. They’re gonna know something is up. I have to put it back.”

He went to put his arm back around you but you stopped him before he could draw any more attention to the two of you.

“Just do this.” You whispered to him and pulled his stool closer to you and turned towards him a little. Your knees and were touching and you were now facing each other.

“That’s it? No one can even see this.” Peter said in disappointment. He thought being your fake boyfriend would bring you guys closer but you were sitting the way you always sat in class.

“It’s not about what people can see. It’s about proximity.” You explained. “We’re sitting closer together than anyone else is without being egregious about it. It’s a simple touch. If we’ve been together as long as people think we have, we don’t need to be wrapped around each other all the time. A simple touch to let the other know we’re there is all we need.”

Peter was silent as he stared at you following your explanation. He stared for so long that you felt yourself blush under the eye contact.

“What?” You asked him.

“I like the way you explain things.” Peter said simply. You quickly looked down so he wouldn’t see the effect that comment had on you and took a moment to collect yourself.

“It’s just something I thought of.” You shrugged.

“I know. But I never would have thought of that. Especially not as naturally as it did for you. You’re so quick.”

“Thank you.” You laughed shyly and found yourself unable to look away from him. Peter opened his mouth to say something to keep the momentum rolling but his phone interrupted him.

“Shoot. Sus-tivity on the b bridge.” He whispered.

“What the hell does that mean?” You asked at full volume.

“It means there’s suspicious activity on the Brooklyn bridge.” He rolled his eyes. “We have to act fast so I didn’t have time to say the whole thing.”

“But you just said the whole thing. And the abridged version. So it took twice as long.”

“Shh.” He waved his hand. “We gotta go.”

You reluctantly collected your things and took Peter’s hand to pull him out of his seat. Peter followed you out the classroom but the teacher cleared her throat when you walked by.

“And where are you two going?” She asked. You and Peter exchanged looks as the class snickered and murmured their theories about what exactly you were heading off to do.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Pepper. My girlfriend and I have to leave class unexpectedly. Please excuse us. It’s urgent.” Peter’s said politely.

“I bet it’s urgent, Parker.” A boy snickered, making serval classmates laugh.

“Gross.” You wrinkled your noses and looked at the boys in disdain.

“Fine.” The teacher sighed. “The only reason I don’t write you two up for skipping so often is because you somehow have the best grades in the class. Go on. Just get the homework done.”

“We will.” You assured her before leaving the room with Peter. Peter noticed that you didn’t drop his hand even when you were alone in the hallway.

“Hey, you know that teachers name is Dr. Zhang and not Dr. Pepper, right?” You asked him.

“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. “Is it really? I’ve emailed her so many times and said “Dear Dr. Pepper”. We have to drop out.”

You laughed and held his hand the rest of the way out of the building.

That night, Peter laid in his bed with his phone held close to his face. He had been trying to figure out what to text you to let you know he had been thinking of you.

“I had fun fighting crime with you today” He wrote out. He read it over before scrunching his nose.

“No. Too cringe. She is not gonna fall in love with someone that says “fighting crime”. I’m not Paw Patrol.” He said like it was obvious. He deleted his text and thought of another one.

“I had a good time today, we make a good team” He wrote out instead. He read it a few times until he found issue with it.

“Oh, you had a good time stopping those break dancers that were obstructing that Sbarro? That’ll catch her attention.” Peter said sarcastically and deleted the text.

“have a goodnight :)” He typed out and then shook his head.

“No. Wayyyy too horny.” He sighed and deleted it again.

“night” He wrote out and read it a few times.

“This is good. I can work with this.” He nodded. He was about to workshop it when a text from you popped up.

“pick a color” It said. Peters heart skipped a beat at the vague message and replied with the first color that popped into his head.

“blue”

“thank u” You wrote back within seconds. Peters heart stopped pounded and the disappointment that the conversation was over settled in. After all these years of fighting crime together, you two never really managed to make it past the coworkers stage. He was desperate for more but never knew how to get there.

“no homo but I had fun fighting crime with you today” You suddenly texted again. A smile tugged at Peter’s lips and he touched his as if it were your face.

“ok paw patrol” He wrote back. Back in your room, you were laughing at his text and trying to think of a witty reply.

“ur mad bc you know I’m the chase 🐶” You texted him.

“if ur the Chase then who am I?”

“plssss ur such a marshall” You wrote back.

“but that’s the third most important dog :(“ Peter replied.

“well yes but he’s cute and wears red so the little paw patrol shoe fits” You answered. A blush painted Peters cheeks over you calling him cute but he didn’t want to read too much into it.

“Im wearing red right now😳” He texted back.

“oh I bet you are” You answered, making him laugh. He kept the conversation going for about an hour before duty called once again. Peter groaned and put his suit on before swinging to the scene of the crime. He met you there and stopped the crime before stopping on a nearby rooftop to rest.

“These burglars aren’t very considerate of our sleep schedules. Who robs a Jersey Mikes after midnight? Or, like, ever?” Peter huffed as he tugged his mask off.

“I know. They’re always at inconvenient times. I was in the middle of painting my nails.”

“Can I see?” He asked in a soft voice. You pulled your gloves off and held out your hand for him to see.

“Look. Blue. But I only got half way through before Mike’s was targeted.”

“It’s okay. They still look pretty.” Peter complimented you with a soft smile.

“Thanks. You picked a good color.” You replied.

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“I told you to pick a color. This is why.” You explained and held out your hand again. His eyes lit up at this new information and he took your hand to see your nails closer.

“You let me chose your nail color?” He smiled fondly.

“Well I didn’t know what to chose so I thought I’d ask the audience.” You shrugged and felt shy all of the sudden.

“Oh. And I’m the target audience, huh?” Peter smirked and turned towards you.

“I never said target.” You teased him and shoved him shoulder.

“I must be hearing things, then.” He shrugged as you both smiled.

“Yeah. Must be.” You said in a soft voice as you stared into his eyes. Peter gulped before making a bold move and taking your hand again under the guise of looking at your nails.

“Look at you. You even got my favorite shade.” He noted.

“You like “Eating For Blue”?” You pretended to gasp.

“Is that really the name of the color?” He laughed.

“Uh huh. It was apart of Essie’s baby fever collection. I almost chose “All In Blue Time” but that’s one tends to get little air bubbles and they give me agida. And I used to have “A Dream Come Blue” but it rolled under the sink so it belongs to the dust bunnies now.” You shrugged as you checked out your nails.

“Wow. This is all new information to me. So, are all nail polish colors named after puns and wordplay?” He asked as he stared into your eyes. He didn’t really care, but he was finally getting somewhere with you and didn’t want it to end.

“In my experience, yes. Not always color related wordplay but always something that makes you go yeah, I guess this shade of beige is what the word “ladylike” would be as a color.”

“This is blowing my mind right now.” Peter chuckled.

“You mean blue-ing your mind.” You corrected and tapped the side of your head.

“I think you inhaled too many of those fumes. Because that was not funny.” Peter said through a laugh.

“What?” You pretended to be offended. “You’re literally laughing right now. I’m so funny.”

“You are.” Peter admitted when his laughter died down. You stared into eyes for a minute before smiling.

“Is that what you rumored saw in me?” You asked him.

“Probably.” He chuckled. “I also heard a rumor that I think you’re really pretty. Like, the prettiest girl I was ever rumored to have allegedly seen.”

“Now you’re the one who’s looney from the fumes because that’s a straight up lie. I know you’ve seen prettier girls because I was standing right next to you when Anne Hathaway left that diner.” You said without making eye contact with him. Things were moving a little too fast and you needed it hit the brakes for a second.

“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” Peter forced a laugh and awkwardly looked over at the cityscape when he realized you were politely telling him to pull back.

“But I appreciate it.” You said after a beat of silence.

“Of course. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking saying that.” He laughed nervously. “I was just getting caught up in the fake dating. We’ve been doing it for so long that it felt real.”

“We only started this morning.” You reminded him.

“Right. Well, it’s late. I’m gonna go home.” He said quickly and stood up. He had just blown that and needed to leave as quickly as possible.

“Okay. Goodnight. See you at school.” You called after him. Peter swung home with tears in his eyes and went straight to bed, missing your text about having fun fighting another crime.

The next day at school, Peter decided to start over and push last night from his mind. He played the part of your boyfriend to the best of his abilities and opened every door, pulled out every seat, and carried ever book for you all day long. Then he did it the next day, and the day after that. He kept his mouth shut about his feelings day in and day out no matter how painful it was getting. You and Peter had finally moved past the coworker stage and become real friends so he didn’t want to sabotage it all by telling you that he spent his days wishing for more.

“What are your plans tonight?” You asked him one day as you walked out of class together.

“My aunt is going out with her friends so I was probably gonna watch a movie on my couch. But on my laptop with my earbuds in. Likely in my boxers. Likely with an entire package of Twizzlers. Why?”

“Well I was gonna suggest that we hang out but you sound booked.”

“Really? You want to hang out?” Peter asked with much more enthusiasm than he intended.

“If you want. I’m not doing anything as exciting as boxers and Twizzlers.”

“I would love to. I’ll put on pants for you. I promise.”

“Sounds good.” You laughed. “Text me your address, okay?”

“Sure. Or you could walk with me now. Unless you’re tired of me and need a break before we hang out.” Peter suggested as you left campus together.

“It’s funny you say that. I was just telling my mom the other day that I never get tired of you.” You said casually.

“You..you don’t?” Peter’s face heated up as he followed you down the sidewalk.

“I don’t. I usually need a break from other people if we’ve been together awhile but it’s different with you. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my social battery if that makes sense.“

“It makes sense.” He smiled shyly as your hands bumped against each others. He was about to make a bold move and take your hand despite no one being around but you suddenly moved it to hit the crosswalk button.

Back at Peter’s apartment, he awkwardly gave you a tour and wished he had picked up his clothes before leaving the house that morning. You didn’t seem to mind the socks and boxers strewn across his room because you were too focused on all the little things he kept on his shelves. You picked up a picture frame of your freshman year high school class that had you and Peter seated right next to each other. Your friendship had only just begun so you often forgot how long you knew him for.

“So this is your room.” You smiled and put the picture back.

“Yup. This is where the magic happens.” Peter said and immediately cringed at himself.

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. This is where I practice magic. Wanna see?” He asked and picked up a deck of cards. You laughed and went over to take one.

“Is your card the ace of spades?” He asked.

“Queen of hearts.” You snorted and turned the card around.

“You’re the queen of my heart.” He whispered.

“Did you say something?” You asked as you looked at all his Legos.

“I asked what you wanted to do tonight.” He lied.

“I don’t know. We have the place to ourselves. We could do something rated R.” You said with a coy smile.

“Like what?” Peter gulped.

“Watch an R rated movie, you perv. Your aunt isn’t here to stop you.”

“You remember me telling you that I’m not allowed to watch R rated movies in the living room anymore?” Peter blushed at you remembering something he had randomly told you long ago.

“Are you referring to the time you watched Tusk at full volume while she had her friends from work over for the first time? How could I forget?”

“In my defense, I didn’t know what the movie was about. And I didn’t think her friends were gonna come into the living room and see that guy getting turned into a walrus.”

“Yeah, the title and cover art gave no indication that the movie would end that way. But that’s not a bad idea actually. Let’s watch something scary.”

“Okay.” Peter agreed and followed you out into the living room. He turned off the lights and got some snacks while you picked a movie. He hated scary movies but he was not about to tell you that. Instead, he sat on the couch beside you as a respectful distance and handed you a bag of chips. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other. Peter had never really seen you scared before but you were practically in his lap just 40 minutes into the movie. You reached into the bag of chips at the same time as Peter and your fingers touched. You both froze and looked at each other as your faces heated up.

“Shit. I’m not wearing a condom.” Peter sighed, making you yank your hand out and laugh.

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and turned back to the movie just as a jump-scare happened. You screamed and jumped closer to Peter.

“This is so scary. Why did I pick this movie?” You asked as you drew your knees up and leaned into his side.

“Yeah, same.” He replied, not even listening. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. You were cuddled into his side with your head on his shoulder and knees in his lap with a blanket drawn up to your nose. He knew you were only cuddling him because you were scared but it didn’t even matter at that point. The movie went quiet for a minute and then made a loud sound, sending you to burry your face into Peter’s neck.

“Tell me when it’s safe to come out.” You whispered into his ear. Peter gulped and wrapped an arm around you to fully protect you from the movie.

“I will.” He said in a soft voice. You peaked your head out a few minutes later but stayed nestled into Peter’s side. You realized his arm was around you and smiled a little.

“Oh, this isn’t so bad.” You shrugged as the main character got eaten alive.

“I don’t understand you.” Peter chuckled and looked down at you. You laughed as well as you looked into his eyes. He was about to say something when another sharp sound from the movie caused you to jump.

“Hold my hand.” You blurted and grabbed his hand. Peter happily accepted and clasped your hand before holding it under his chin. You stayed in that position for a long time and watched the movie. You were both so focused on the screen that you didn’t hear May opening the front door and coming in.

“Hey. I’m home.” She said, making you both scream.

“Oh, hi May.” Peter greeted while he realized it was just her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I’m-“

“I know.” She smirked. “I’ll just be in my room. But, Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“No going in your room with the door closed, okay? I’m home. And we have thin walls. Just keep that in mind.” She said, making Peter turn bright red.

“Got it, May.” He mumbled. She winked at you and disappeared into her bedroom.

“You told your aunt we were dating?” You whispered to Peter in confusion.

“No.” Peter answered honestly. “I guess she just assumed we were.”

“Wow. She’s just like the kids at school.” You shook your head. “I don’t get it. Why does everyone think we’re dating?”

“I mean…” Peter trailed off and looked down at your clasped hands. You hadn’t realized you were still cuddling and quickly jumped off of him. Peters heart sank and the longer he sat in the absence of your body heat, the more upset he felt.

“You just jumped off of me like I was sharp.” He said without looking at you.

“I didn’t want your aunt to see us cuddling and think-“

“And think what?” He snapped, cutting you off. You gutted your head back in surprise and let out a nervous laugh.

“Woah. What’s going on with you? She already knows about your secret life. We don’t have any reason to pretend we’re dating in front of her.”

Peter stared at you for a long time as the word “pretend” cut into him like a knife. Every time he thought you were going somewhere, he was reminded that it didn’t actually mean anything to you.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled and looked at the movie again. You kept your eyes on him and felt guilty. You had so much to say to him but you felt unable to speak.

“Peter-“

“I don’t think we should pretend to date anymore.” He blurted, cutting you off once again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise and you got a sick feeling in your tummy that you had just ruined something really important.

“What? Why not?”

“It’s stupid. No one even cares anymore.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to fake a breakup or anything but I don’t want to hold hands or play along anymore. I’m done.”

“What changed?” You asked in a soft voice. He was still looking at the movie while you were fully turned to face him.

“Nothing changed. That’s the problem.” He said and angrily got off the couch. You quickly caught his hand and he stopped. He looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. He knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at you if he hadn’t told you what was wrong. He slowly turned around and looked at you.

“Five years ago, you showed up to the same robbery at an all night CVS that I was at and I realized we knew each other from AP Spanish class because I had asked you earlier that day how to conjugate “poner” and you said “pusiste” and I laughed because I thought you were joking but you weren’t and then that night you heard me tell the burglar that he better“pusiste” the money back into the register.“ Peter began.

“Okay. Wow. That was a really long sentence.” You laughed softly. “But I remember that. I laughed and told you that you better remember that for the test.”

“You did. That’s how I knew it was you.” He smiled at the memory. “I failed that test, by the way. I still can’t conjugate “poner.” And I still think it means “boner” even though I know it’s a verb. But anyway, that night, I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited to have met you. Even though we technically already knew each other, that night put us in each others radars. I could not believe that I had met my match. You’re into science like me and sarcastic like me and you understand this side of my life because you have the same side. But despite running into each other on patrol almost nightly and seeing each other around school, I barely got you to notice me. I don’t think you even knew my name until we ended up going the same college. You called me “Timmy” all throughout high school.”

“You seriously look like one. It’s uncanny. I don’t know what it is.”

“I thought things would change when I found out we were going to the same college. The campus is so small I figured there’s no way we wouldn’t become friends. But even then, we hardly ever talked and when we did it was always about work. I didn’t even know where you lived until last semester.”

“I remember that too. The first night we really bonded was when you fell off that roof because you were trying to show me how to do a backflip.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been able to do a backflip.” He admitted. “I only said I could because you said you always wanted to learn how to do one and I assumed given my abilities I’d be able to do one if I just followed my body. But I busted my ass and you were kind enough to sneak me through your window and patch me up with some Scooby Doo bandaids.”

“It was all I had.” You shrugged.

“And you gave it to me anyway. Because you’re kind and compassionate and I’m just…I’m crazy about you.” Peter finally admitted. “I was so excited when we started hanging out more this semester but it always ended up crushing me when I remembered that we just doing it to keep people from finding out the truth. I really, really love our friendship and if I’m ruining it all by saying all this then at least I can die with it off my chest.”

“Wait, now I’m confused. Are you dying?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It feels like I am every time you and I start to get close and then I remember this is all pretend for you.”

“So it’s not pretend for you?” You asked quietly. Peter stared into your heads for a minute and then shook his head.

“No. I was never pretending. I like you.” He told you. Your facial expression didn’t change as you stared back at him. Peter was really starting to panic until a smile tugged at your lips.

“Sit back down.” You told him.

“I’m sat.” He said and rushed it sit down. You nestled back into his side and laid your head down on his shoulder. Peter smiled and rested his head on top of yours, finally pleased with the way a conversation with you went. You both turned your attention back to the movie just in time for it to end.

“Hm.” You huffed. “That was supposed to be us symbolically finishing the movie as a real couple but it appears we’ve already arrived at the credits. Now what?”

“We could watch Tusk.” Peter suggested at the same time you said “We could make out.”

“I never actually saw Tusk but I always wanted to.” You gasped and hit his arm with excitement.

“Or we could do your thing.” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“Let me see if I can find it.” You said as you scrolled through the streaming services on his TV.

“Or we could do your thing.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

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@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

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@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[emphistic]

hi emm! Since it’s prom season could u make basketball sukuna reacting to someone from the team asking you out for prom?

A/N: hii! i actually received a vv similar request a long time ago and i deleted it because i didnt know how to write it, so maybe this is a sign from God — my redemption time, LMAO

PS: sorry to all my readers who are actually jelly lovers, i am not one of you

“So,” Gojo started, while shoving fries into his mouth, “have you got a date yet? Prom’s comin’ up real quick, y’know?”

The basketball team had just won their last game of the season, and all the players were eating out together in celebration. Sukuna was planning on just spending the rest of the night celebrating with you, like usual, but Gojo dragged him away and you only gave a thumbs up in encouragement. What a girlfriend you were, Sukuna scoffed, handing off your dear boyfriend to Gojo Satoru.

“Why do you care?” Sukuna grimaced at Gojo’s messy eating habits. How could one dare to speak while stuffing their face? Sukuna thought Gojo grew up wealthy, and, hey, aren’t rich people supposed to be, like, super into decorum? Where is this man’s etiquette?

“Sheesh, sorry for asking. I just wanted to know if my friend here,” he nudged Sukuna with his elbow, “needed some help getting a date. No need to be ashamed, Captain. I could hook you up with one of Utahime’s friends.”

“Yeah, no. But since you’re so curious, Satoru, I do have a date, actually.”

“No way, seriously? The big, bad, captain of the basketball team, has a date? For prom? I have to tell Suguru this.” Gojo whipped out his phone and, with his sauce-covered fingers, started typing like a madman.

Sukuna cringed, looking away and biting into his burger. This did not taste as good as your cooking. Why oh why did you let Satoru take him away? he thought. Sukuna would much rather be with you right now, even if it meant having to sit through one of your godawful rom-coms. Any of those would be better than Gojo fucking Satoru.

“I cannot believe he is missing this because he’s sick. Sick! That’s actually sick of him. Haha, get it?” Gojo leaned back in his chair, and Sukuna wished he would slip and fall backwards.

“There’s nothing shocking about me having a date, Satoru. I’m not some kind of loser.”

“Yeah, well. Yorozu’s not attached to your arm right now, so I thought—”

“I told you, I don’t like her like that. I don’t like her at all, matter of fact.”

“She’s, like, obsessed with you, dude.”

“I know,” Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Just wish she would leave me alone, I’ve been trying my best to avoid her. And I haven’t seen her as often, so I think it’s working.” If Yorozu didn’t take the hint sooner or later, Sukuna would make your guys’ relationship known to the whole campus if he had to. Hell, Gojo didn’t even know yet. No one did, actually.

“Damn, so cold. You just gonna ignore her and break her heart?” Gojo laughed, but that quickly came back to kick him in the butt when he started choking on a fry.

“If you’re not joking, that fry will be the last thing you eat. I swear on your life, I do not want anything to do with that bitch.”

Gojo continued coughing and choking and shaking, but when all subsided and the white-haired man regained most of his posture, he posed the question, “So, you’re not gonna, like, ask me?”

“Ask you what? Ask you to prom? The fuck?”

“No, no, no. I mean, unless you wanted to,” Gojo tucked an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear, a stupid expression on his stupid face. “But, I’m talking about what I asked you. So, you gonna ask me if I have a prom date?”

“I don’t give a fuck if your lame ass has a date or not,” Sukuna spat out.

“Have you any idea how hurt I am now, because of you? Ehuhwaaa,” Gojo let out the fakest ugliest cry Sukuna had ever heard. “You think my ass is lame? Do you know how many would pay to see even a glimpse of my tush?”

“No. And I hope it stays that way.”

“I—how dare you.”

That night, Sukuna had to run away from Gojo in the parking lot of an In-n-Out. Otherwise, Gojo would’ve probably never left him alone. And, you might be thinking, Gojo is a fast runner. How did Sukuna get away? Well, it may or may not have been because Gojo had scarfed down three double-doubles prior. And he could barely stand upright without having to lean against Sukuna.

But, fear not, Sukuna did make it home, into your arms. And even though he did have to sit through your stupid rom-coms, he was so fucking glad to finally be away from that white-haired idiot.

Unfortunately for Sukuna, that peace and tranquility was short-lived. The next morning, he was woken up by your overly obnoxious doorbell. Seriously, when were you going to replace it?

Sukuna groaned, whispering into your hair, “Didn’t know you were expecting visitors, babe.”

“Hm?” Your voice was muffled; your face pressed impossibly close into Sukuna’s bare chest.

“Visitor, sweetheart. Someone’s at your door.”

“Huh?” You stuck your head up from your human pillow, and though missing the warmth, you were quite confused. Visitor? Since when?

It’s safe to say you were even more surprised to see Gojo Satoru outside when you opened your door. But you weren’t the only confused one, not for long, at least. Gojo raised his brow when he saw Sukuna emerge from behind you in all his glory: shirt nowhere to be found, hair unruly, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“Captain? What are you—?” Gojo cleared his throat, “Whatever. Anyway, will you, Y/N, do me the honor of being the jelly to my peanut butter and going to prom with me?” Gojo flashed a smile so bright Sukuna almost fell backwards.

“Uhh, I’m sorry—”

“She doesn’t even like jelly, dumbass. And what’s with this horrendous sign? That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Sukuna gestured with his chin at the poorly drawn and colored peanut butter jar and jelly. Not to mention, Gojo was also dressed as a sandwich, with two slices of bread on either side of his body.

“What the hell? How would you know if she liked jelly or not?”

“Because I’m her prom date.”

“And—and, what are you doing at her house?”

“I’m her boyfriend.” Sukuna glared at the white male, and slung an arm around your shoulder, out of spite.

Gojo paused, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. “Ohhh. So that’s why you didn’t want to come eat with us yesterday. And that’s why you were so desperate to go home. And that’s why I haven’t seen you with another girl in months.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anywho,” Gojo turned back to you, shoving his sign all up in your face. “Will you go to prom with me?”

“Dude.”

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura

[misctf]

Hey I've always been a pudgy and geeky type of guy and now at 50 I wish I had done things different. Could you change reality so I've always been a bear or daddy or age regress me so I'm a jock or himbo?

Are you sure you want this? I mean, I appreciate where you’re coming from. Really, I do. But are you sure? There’re risks and.... Okay I’ll spare you the details. You seem pretty set on this.

Cracks fingers.

Where to start... 50 years old, a tad pudgy, and I can tell that Star Wars shirt you’re wearing hasn’t been washed in a while. Not to worry!

Snaps fingers. The cold air now caressing your naked body.

Much better! Now I can see what I’m working with. Stay still please.

You feel my hands run along your pudgy, hairy gut. You wince as I give it a squeeze. You watch as I saunter behind you and yelp when I tug at the back hair that wraps up and around your shoulders. And as my hand runs along the thinning hair on your head, you gasp as a pressure emanates from within your brain.

Ah...Interesting... I can see it. Who you want to be... Okay, okay. This is gonna be tough, but just take a deep breath. And before I begin, you should know I set my clients up for success, which means... So... right... You’re full steam ahead. Sounds good!

You wince when I firmly grab your flabby chest and start massaging. A groan escapes your lips and you watch as the fat melts from your chest, leaving it flat. But with another squeeze, you watch as my hands begin to fill again. This time with your new muscle tit flesh. Bigger and bigger, until my hands can’t contain them. Firm and bounceable. Simultaneously, your skin heats up as your chest and back hair vanish, leaving you clean shaven. You watch as I give your nipples a squeeze and... the pleasure nearly knocks you off your feet. You moan as I pinch them between my fingers.

Like that? Yeah I can tell. I made them extra sensitive. Like so sensitive that the fabric of a shirt might make you cum. Oh don’t give me that look. Trust me, you’ll want to show off what I’m giving you. Okay... let’s...

My hands run along your abdomen and you feel like the wind is knocked out of you. The pudgy gut you sported before is starting to melt. Painful at first, but when you see the six pack you’re now sporting, you grin. But it’s short lived. You feel my hands firmly grip your ass. And this time, you moan as you feel your flabby ass firm up, filling with firm, bouncy fat and muscle. An ass that’ll always turn heads. And when I give your bubble butt a gentle slap, you moan loudly.

Yeah... what can I say? I want you to really enjoy your new body. Yeah... okay... I get you’re horny. Like hornier than you’ve ever been. But you’re turning out so well. We can’t stop now! Oh! Look at that! Your skin is starting to tan! See? We just need to get started and the rest follows. It’s like your body knows what its destined to become. But we’re missing something...

I run my hands up and down your arms, filling each of them with muscle. And then more. And then even more. They feel heavier to you. Bulging as if you’d just done curls for days. My hands don’t even come close to being able to wrap around them. And your shoulders... you’d never thought the whole ‘shoulders like boulders’ would ever apply to you. Now you’re a shining example.

Yeah, I know. Damn, dude. And I should ask... what’s your skin care routine? I jest, I jest. You’re 21, of course you have great skin! Haha you look so happy! Beats being 50, right? Oh! Before I forget...

You watch as I pull out a baseball cap and slap it on your head. Beneath it, you feel a burning sensation as your thinning hair grows in rapidly. And a few blond curls poke out from beneath your new hat.

So, what do you think? Of course, of course. I told you I’d help. And god, I gotta say you turned out hot. Now, I did tell you earlier that I set my clients up for success. And right now, you might have the body, but do you have the mindset? Okay, calm down... I did say there were risks, right? And I can’t let you ruin my work. Just stay still and...

You feel my hand on your head. And another around your growing cock.

Right... how does computer science fit into the new you? Or comic books? Okay, let’s get rid of that... and let’s move this here... and... Hey you good? You’re drooling all over yourself.

I give your cock a few tugs. A moan escapes your lips.

Phew! We’re still here. Right... okay let’s get rid of that... definitely get rid of this... Perfect! It’ll take a bit of space for all the knowledge to maintain this look. You’ll need most of your brain dedicated to workouts and diet. And since I doubt academics is your ticket to success, I might as well give you the knowledge to set up a successful OnlyFans account. Have any problems with that? I didn’t think so.  

I tug again on your cock, the pleasure somehow even more intense and your eyes roll back into your head.

Alright, but deep down you’re still that geeky guy. But with a body like this, it would be a waste not to have the right mindset for it. So, you get the idea? Shirtless, cocky, alpha douchebag. No more quiet geeky nerd. Yeah... look at that smirk. You’re getting it, now.

You flex in the mirror, the smirk never leaving your face. And then you turn back to me, gesturing toward your raging erection.

Well, what can I say. I.... Oh... Well, I mean if you insist. Might as well finish what I started. On my knees? Oh, okay... You want me to stop talking? Alright I.......

And as your cock meets the back of my throat and your moans fill the room, I couldn’t help but wonder if adding another douchey alpha bro to the world was worth it.

[occamstfs]

Ni Hao!NYC

Morally conflicted journalist puts off questions of ethics until it's just too late. Finally assigned to put his name next inflammatory content Sam finds himself more than appreciating Chinese culture.

Various white to Asian Muscle growth and racial change ahead!

Like many, I saw the final pictures on twitter and had to do something with them haha! Ended up with a piece just a tad different than usual! Hope you all enjoy! -Occam

Samuel Johnston knew he worked for a rag but as long as the checks cashed he could afford to mute his conscience. They made money not from sales so much as some rightwing think tank who wants their views affirmed in any way they can get it. So he lays low and pens little puff pieces, avoiding anything too controversial and introduces himself as an accountant to anyone he cares enough to lie to.

He’s quite adept at staying out of sight and mind when it comes to the doling out of any especially charged or problematic issues. Making sure to bury his own work any chance he gets, even using a pen name in case someone accidentally stumbles on his writing. It’s gone well enough so far he thinks! Sam tells himself that really working for NY:Red isn’t that bad, surely it’s even good that he’s got the job rather than anyone who believes the shit they write. Right?

No job is without its problems, he tells himself. So far he’s done a commendable job keeping his nose down with an almost supernatural ability to duck away from bigwigs or management. That is until now as he’s summoned by name to his boss’ side. His proficiency at staying off the radar of management has kept him from a one on one with the man in charge for some time, but now he is sitting on the top floor outside of Mr. Howard’s office, surely waiting to be assigned some horrible project.

“Come in!” Sam hears the surly man shout before promptly stepping into the gaudy office. He’s immediately taken aback as somehow the editor looks almost younger than he does in the many pictures Sam has seen. Sam hides his shock at the man’s jet black hair as well as he hides the general fear and disdain that begins to send adrenaline pumping towards his mind. Mr. Howard doesn't notice at least, getting straight to business, “I can tell from yer writing that ya like the city Sam, can I call ya Sam?”

Samuel opens his mouth to reply but the chief just continues on, “Anyway I love all yer little toilet paper stories but how do ya wanna write with the big leagues?” This time Samuel stays strong and gets a word in before being steamrolled again, “Actually I-” “I’m puttin’ you on the most important case we have Sam. Surely ya’ve noticed all this, what's da word, influx? Invasion? Bah. All the Asian shit that’s startin’ ta creep in on our city’s culture!” Samuel makes an awkward face as despite knowingly working for the racist, it’s different to hear the words out loud.

He holds his tongue out of shock or fear and his boss continues on his diatribe, “The last couple a schmucks I had on the beat just up’n left me high and dry can ya believe it! Old friends I thought!” He grumbles as he scratches his chin, moving away his hand it seems his beard thinned? He shakes his head in irritation and Sam would swear he saw his jowls tighten and wrinkles smooth over. “Anyway kid. Go out and do some prelim research. Have something on my desk by Friday or yer out just like those galoots!” Samuel stands for a second unsure if he’s allowed to leave before his boss looks up to glare with eyes Sam would’ve sworn were blue when he walked in.

Sam rushes out the door and to the elevator, riding it back to his floor, debating between writing a preemptive resignation or keeping mum and keeping on payroll for one last week. Profiteering from a culture war he may be but he’s not about to regurgitate genuinely racist talking points. He taps his foot impatiently as he thinks about just how cushy this gig is though. “Fuck!” He decides to call the only other confirmed decent human being he knows here, his friend Nick who works in the fashion dept.

The two go to grab coffee at a chain next door, Sam tries not to notice how they’ve started selling Vietnamese iced coffee. “Fuck man I can’t do it! Literally just one conversation alone with Howard was a wake up call.” Nick smiles like he has no problems with working for the dirtiest rag in the city, “Chill out Sam. Huward had my manager on the same beat and he, uh, Hidaka said that is said to just look busy for a bit and we won’t need to worry about all this racist shit anymore.” Sam squints his eyes at his friend, he’s not usually so easy breezy about work. He also racks his brain trying to figure out who Hidaka could possibly be. That can’t be his boss. No way Howard would let someone not white lead a department.

Seeing Sam lost in thought Nick reaches out and grabs his hand in a way Sam couldn’t imagine him doing before this second. In fact as the second drags on he stares down in the hand in shock, feeling the warm hand squeeze his forearm. He looks up to his friend’s face searching for any clue to the cause of this odd behavior. Sam smiles awkwardly and half-jokes “Hah hah, uh- Who are you and what’d you do with Nick… Hah.” Nick bursts out laughing, patting him on the arm jovially and leaving a hand larger than Sam remembers resting on his own. “Hidaka-san just showed me how to worry less about this job un?”

Sam inspects him closely for anything amiss, it looks like he’s picked up a bit of a tan? His hair is messier than usual and definitely a little darker, his skin is alluringly smooth and Sam can feel the heat his body is generating despite sitting across from him. Looking at his clothes Sam finds another surprise, his shirt almost looks strained! As if Nick has been hitting the gym for sometime, maybe it’s just been a while since he’s seen his friend in person? 

Assuaged in the slightest, Sam ignores the glowering red flags and follows this lede, “Woah Nick have you been working out?” Nick blushes and Sam at the very least sees his friend is as shy as ever. He goes to scratch the back of his head straining his shirt almost to its ripping point as he responds, “Ah a little haha! どうぞ(please) don’t you worry about me. Since you have no desire to write the article, why don’t you go ahead and check out the little Asian market down the street for fun? It was quite a good time when Hidaka-san brought me earlier this week!”

Sam awkwardly smiles as he wonders why on Earth Sam is suddenly referring to his boss like this, it’s almost like he’s performatively speaking Japanese. Taking a second to pause Sam looks at the haircut as hands unseen style it into something fashionable he puts two and two together. Thinking to himself, ah! Nick must just be a weeb! Tension disappears from his body with a sigh of relief as he wonders how he didn’t notice before now. He gets up to follow his friend’s advice, what better way to stick it to the man than support the people he aims to malign right?

He bucks up and grabs a Vietnamese iced coffee for the road, tossing a “Sayonara,” at Nick with a wink to which he perks up and slightly bows. Man, how did he not notice before Sam thinks yet again. Blissfully unaware, leaving just as kanji symbols appear on Nick’s keyboard and his friend responds to an email in a language he didn’t know this morning. Blue eyes growing coal dark as his tanned, increasingly muscular arms tap away at the keyboard.

Sam spends the bulk of his day at the little Asian street fair and has an absolute blast. Any residual stains on his mind from his unpleasant morning absolutely fade away as he goes from booth to booth sampling cuisine and chatting with diasporic cultures the world over. Time flies as he goes into journalist mode and basically interviews first gen Chinese immigrants about their time in the city. He finds himself beyond immersed in the conversation, continuing to learn from the couple as the tables around them begin to pack up for the day. 

He offers to help the older couple pack up and they happily take the aid, striking him bashful as they talk of what a sweet young man he is. “Wa! 哇强 (strong) Too!” The wife chuckles as she jokingly feels his less than impressive arms. He was having a better time at this little fair than he ever could’ve imagined, enough so that he thinks about going to stick it to Huaward then and there. Huaward? Whatever. His mind slightly off put by whatever that was, in an uncharacteristic act of transparency, Sam lets it slip that he works for NY:Red. The expressions on the kind couple’s faces immediately sour and Sam is quite shocked that they even know what the paper is.

There is a glint in the husband’s eyes as he starts to motion Sam away from any further aid, “谢谢 (Thank you) for your help, Sam. There have been a few, hm, bad men wandering around from that paper and I uh-” He looks around his table and grabs some miijiu they hadn’t put away yet. His wife nods, her face somewhere between rueful and hopeful as she watches her husband offer Sam the glass. “Again, 谢谢, er thank you for your help young man, enjoy this for the road 好的? (Yeah?)” The two turn to each other and begin talking to each other in mandarin alone and Sam takes the hint.

Kicking himself that he fumbled the capstone on such a pleasant afternoon, though finding solace in the rice wine he’s walking away with. He is blissfully unaware as the couple watch him drink and head down the street debating if everyone from that paper really is an asshole. Grimacing as they think about the vitriol spewed at them by NY:Red readers they decide they had no other recourse. Pleasant as he seemed Sam was consciously working on the side of hate and that could not be simply overlooked.

Sam quite enjoyed the rice wine the couple left him with, it immediately smooths over any lasting regret or concern about his interaction with the couple. They don’t know anything about him! He’s nothing like his other coworkers. It feels as if he’s had far more to drink than the small container they left him with should allow, but every time he looks down there always seems to be more mijiu to entice him. It would be impolite not to finish their gift he thinks; his confident stride quickly shifting to a stumble as he wanders home. 

His phone goes off as he gets an email from his boss, Mr. Huang?  Can’t be right. He squints at the email, deciding he must really have overdone it on the mijiu and stuffing his phone back in his pocket. Beyond the obvious difficulties in ambulation being drunk, Sam is unable to notice as his proportions slowly begin to shift. His ever-so lanky body begins to feel dull and heavy as the warmth of the wine fills his chest to capacity and then some as he leans against his apartment door, wiping his feet on an unfamiliar doormat. 

He kicks his shoes off by the door on some new instinct and immediately goes to collapse on the couch. His small sofa creaking as he puts more than his usual dead weight on it. His legs that usually hang off the end lengthen even further as his thighs grow meatier. Pecs press into the cushions as he snores. He is swiftly ushered into an unfamiliar dreamscape, the jubilee of the fair and the bewildering amount of wine he drank produce a vivid carnival of culture in his subconscious.

He sees the old couple at their stand and begins to speak with them in their mother tongue, seeing the delight as a load is taken off their shoulders. His dreamself seamlessly conversing with a fluency unearned. Sam stirs in the waking world as his mind existentially changes to match his morphing body. His blond hair grows thin and longer as its tint stains darker. Twitching in REM the green eyes that he prides himself on speckle with brown before they are entirely overtaken, becoming a rich cacao like the thick eyebrows framing them.

The discomfort of a new language forcing itself into this memory begins to wane as he prides himself on how fluent he is in both Chinese and English. His hand goes to scratch his pecs and he smirks in his sleep as they pulse larger, knowing pride is not the only thing surging within him. At the edges of his mind he feels the memory of learning a language, words written on a blackboard in chalk, English and Chinese both. For the life of him he cannot recall which of the two he’s learning second. An alarm set on his phone blares and he jolts awake to get ready for work.

Throwing on a shirt, Sam freezes as he sees his reflection. Hundreds of little questions seize his mind, those aren’t his eyes are they? Did he dye his hair last night? Are those abs? God his arms look good don’t they!? As they race through his mind and grow rampant they fixate on how attractive he suddenly feels. Rubbing his pecs and feeling them bounce he cries out to himself, “该死！Uhhh, Damn I look good!” He poses in the mirror and takes in every new angle of his powerful body. Taking note as his body hair seems thinner, and decidedly darker wherever it remains. He looks close at his pit seeing his once dense bush of curly hair thin out and straighten, before the memory of even having dense body hair is washed from his mind.

His phone goes off again and his work is immediately brought to the forefront of his mind. “Fuck I didn’t read Huang’s message!” He finds email after email from his boss, only the first few mention the wretched assignment they last talked about. Sam’s eyes widen as he continues to skim through the emails as the topic lines quickly show some drastic re-prioritization from his boss. Only then does he realize that he’s been reading his boss’ name as Huang. His boss is white. Rather his boss’ whole identity is based around being white! Huang isn’t, right? Incredibly he clicks the last email, subject line Vacation, and is immediately greeted with a mouth watering picture of a powerful man. Everything comes to a stop as he can’t help but gawk at this man’s body.

Ni Hao Sanuel- take the day off shi de? Still only half dressed Sam balks at just how bizarre this is, rereading the name Sanuel he is thrown for a loop as his mind reconfigures this. Tearing his eyes from the man’s torso he finally looks at the cocky face and sees a thread he recognizes,  “天啊! (Holy Shit!) That’s Mr. Huang!” He shuts his mouth before he drools like a dog at his boss’ arms. God, this is unlike him though right? He tries to dig through his memories of the editor in chief as the caustic racist he was yesterday, but with each uncovered the image of Huang changes as this dreamboat playboy overrides more of what was.

Sanuel readies to just stay in for this day of assigned vacation before he gets another notification, this time from his friend, Nobu? An image of Nick flashes through his mind, a handprint burns on his arm, and the taste of Vietnamese coffee dances on his lips. “Meet me on the boardwalk うん？” Sanuel rolls his eyes at his friend tacking on Japanese like that, willing his mind not to think about how his friend’s contact ID now says Nobu. Must be one of those, uh, his own thoughts trail off as he successfully abandons concern to head to meet his friend.

Nearing the meeting spot he looks for his usually cleancut friend, the only body present however is a massive Japanese man awkwardly flexing at himself in a reflective surface. Sanuel shyly speaks up, “Ni Ha-, uh Hey? Have you seen a guy named Nick around here?” The apparent bodybuilder beams and goes to engulf Sanuel in a hug shouting, “Oi! Shan! took ya long enough!” His eye twitches hearing the name, as this man effortlessly lifts him off his feet in a hug far too intimate for colleagues, and certainly from whoever this stranger is!

Shan pushes against the massive man, his body heat broiling him on this already warm day. He strains his eyes looking at the man grabbing him and suddenly it hits him, “Nobu?” The man promptly lets him go and pats him on the back with a laugh he would’ve never expected to come from his sheepish friend in the fashion department. “Wanna go have some ice cream or something Shan?” He feels the need to push back against his friend calling him Shan but as he hears it a second time he can’t recognize the names as anything but his own.

Shan pauses as he sees Nobu stop to chat with some Japanese tourists and something about the picture doesn’t sit right. God it’s that talk with Huang getting him all worked up again that,uh, racist? He clutches his head as contradictions between his past and present collide in his head and he slams his eyes shut as he cannot determine what is true about his current reality. Shan falls to the ground with a deep thud, slightly hyperventilating, his body grows larger as he takes deep breaths from the stress.

Hearing him collapse Nobu runs over to help him up, this time with more effort as his friend’s comatose body continues to put on muscle and grow heavier. Still, having the impressive figure he does, Nobu rather easily gets him on a bench and sits next to him, “クソ野郎？(Fuck dude?) You alright?” Shan slowly nods as his friend throws an arm around him. Looking down at his own arms as they pulse with muscle, he feels his eyes strain as the structure of his face begins to change.

Shan's jawline sharpens and his skin smooths. Stubble that has been a cornerstone of hiding his facial blemishes vacates as his hair stains black and flops longer. He feels clarity grace his mind as he stares at large hands on the ends of pale, hairless, muscular arms and he wonders if he is even himself.

He voices these concerns to Nobu who just laughs them off. “Hah! Of course dude, same Shan I’ve always known!” “那- that’s not my name Nobu.” His friend grins shyly in concern for his friend's mind. “It can't be my name. I’m-” grimacing before he continues as it takes everything in his power to speak against the realities in front of him. Memories of a world quite far away, moving to New York long ago, the youngest in a family of Chinese immigrants, “I’m white aren’t I Nobu?” 

Nobu can’t help but laugh again at the beyond bizarre statement. He jokes about Shan hitting his head when he fell. “You’re the most 2nd Gen Chinese わるがき(brat) I know bro! Imma go get us some ice cream while you chill out.” Shan stares at his friend as he abandons him, feeling his eyes tighten as they shift into the monolid eyes that his memories swear he’s always had.

Shan retreats into his mind racing against his changing memories to find a pillar of truth to grasp on. He sees himself at the gym with Nobu, his black mop of hair flicking sweat into the air as he poses with his bro. He sees just yesterday at the Asian fair, helping an elderly couple pack up their table, twitching as he would’ve sworn that went differently. He remembers sitting at the office getting no work done as he plays on his phone, 是的！that’s it! His job. There’s something there, if only he can remember what the problem was there.

He sees Nobu begin walking back with sweet treats, Nobu works at the paper too. Oh 呃/Duh! He smirks as he goes for his wallet to grab a business card. His eyes see the obnoxious red logo he knows before they read text that will send him irrevocably forward, Shun Jiang - Ni Hao!NYC. His body fills with warmth like a machine overworking as his mind races with information about his new reality. Sweat drips from his hair as he can no longer even struggle to recall his claimed existence as a bystander at the vile paper they produced. His brown eyes steep to a dark black as they glaze over.

“Shan-baka! Here’s a popsicle!” Nobu shouts as he returns to his overheated friend who immediately bursts from his stupor. “混蛋!(Asshole!) It’s Shun- thought we were close!” Nobe smirks as he starts to eat his own ice cream. Unable to recall anything too in depth he feels a pause as he wonders what his Japanese friend is doing working for a Chinese newspaper, before he answers it himself. Clearly his subconscious is more at place in whatever new reality he faces. Their paper is for all NYC’s Asian immigrants. Nobu works writing, or more often modeling, for Konnichiwa!NYC! Huang really was a genius for the idea.

Shun smiles, thinking fondly of his boss as he enjoys the short break from the summer heat that Nobu brought him. Back at the headquarters of their paper everything shifts from the rag it was and into a paper connecting the disparate Asian immigrants of the city, printed in any language they can find translators for, Ni Hao, Konnichiwa, Annyeonghaseyo, Namaste!NYC. Each day striving for a better, more inclusive New York City. Shun beams with his new face, no longer burdened with the just concern of his peddling vitriol, instead possessed with a desire to spread his culture far and wide.

———————————————————————————

As I was writing I remembered a similar series by the now gone Dumb-and-Jocked!

If interested do check out Horizon Zero: One, Two, and Three for quite a different take on a journalism themed Racial Change!

[seventeenreasonswhy]

SVT Reacts to Their ~Shy~ S/O in a Swimsuit 👙☺️

SFW / Fluff

Just sweet OT13!SEVENTEEN reacting to their shy/self-conscious partner wearing a bathing suit around them. 🥰

Content/Warnings: Fluff!, fem!reader, just pure sweet simping lol

Author's Note: DK's is longer than anyone else's lol sorry I like him the most. I cannot change what's in my heart. But enjoy! This is more of my Sweet!SVT agenda. 💕👼

SEUNGCHEOL

sees you enter the pool area so cautiously and wants to straight up melt into water himself. you’re so cute, it’s unreal. you look so hot, but your innocent way of being so self-conscious makes it even hotter to him??? he would spend the whole day giving you compliments, the smile never ever leaving his face as you blush at being so exposed!

JEONGHAN

doesn’t get why you’re so shy! you’re so beautiful! he loves your swimsuit, and he doesn’t hesitate to tell you how cute and sexy you look, even pulling your arms away when you try to cover yourself up. he believes you have every reason to be confident and proud of your body!

JOSHUA

is so, so soft with you. certified sweetheart right here. he knows that bringing too much attention to you would just make you more nervous, so he tries to act nonchalant to neutralize the anxiety for you. but he finds every opportunity to whisper sweet compliments about how you look!

JUN

thinks its adorable how shy you’re being. he decides to really lean into it and tease you, haha. “oh wow, I didn’t know you would show so much skin,” he says with an eyebrow raised. just seeing the panicked look on your face is so worth it. he loves making you flustered! it’s too cute!

HOSHI

whipped! absolutely positively whipped! this man turns so stupid for you the second that he sees you in your cute bikini lol. it’s like you put him in a trance lmao. you get shy about the way he’s just staring at you beaming nonstop. You playfully tell him to look away but he refuses, only pulling you close to him and touching your exposed waist. He doesn’t care who’s watching, he can’t keep his hands off of you like this.

WONWOO

ugh, so charmed by how shy you are. you’re so beautiful, he makes sure to sincerely tell you how hot and pretty you are in your swimsuit. he wants to instill you with all of the confidence you deserve! he can’t get over your red face and the way you keep looking around all nervous. he wants to kiss you so bad when you’re like this!

WOOZI

also shy!! haha he doesn’t know what to say to you! you’re so cute! but he feels self-conscious about you being self-conscious?? how should he approach you?? he would clumsily compliment you and then get frustrated and say, “never mind!” but you would know that he’s just frazzled. you feel kind of flattered by this reaction, actually, and seeing him also flustered makes you calm down a bit and feel a little more in control of your self-consciousness.

MINGHAO

sees absolutely no reason for you to be so shy! you’re so perfect! how could such a beautiful person not be comfortable in their own skin? he doesn’t get it. he calmly reassures you throughout the day of how beautiful you are, and that you don’t ever need to be uncomfortable in your body around him. he’s so matter-of-fact about it that you start to really relax.

MINGYU

simps soooooo hard as soon as he sees you. “waaahhh,” his jaw just drops at the sight of you lol. you feel so cringe about this, knowing that he’s going over the top and being extra dramatic to help you manage your self-conscious feelings. you really appreciate him being like this, though. “you’re being too nice,” you say shyly, and his face goes completely serious and he’s like “no I’m not. I’m serious, you’re so beautiful it’s crazy.” sweet puppy boy. 😊

SEOKMIN

he’s surprised by how strong of a reaction he has to seeing you like this! something about you being self-conscious while also being so gorgeous and in a bikini... he kind of gets bashful about how overtly hot he finds you! he doesn’t really mean to, but he ends up avoiding looking at you, which you take the wrong way and end up feeling even more embarrassed and self-conscious about. he eventually picks up on this, and then feels so bad! you wander off toward the locker room thinking it would be better to just change into something more comfortable, but he follows you. “oh, sorry,” you say as he catches up to you, stepping in front of you slightly before you get to the door to the showers, “wait,” he says, and then is distracted by how adorable your expression of worry and shyness is, and he ends up biting his knuckle between his teeth you’re driving him so insane! “y/n, seriously...” he says, letting out an exasperated puff of air, “you’re so beautiful, it’s insane. I can’t even look at you, it’s driving me so crazy how good you look.” your face turns beet red and you can’t stop the shy smile spreading across your face as he looks at you for a minute before just grabbing your face and kissing you.

SEUNGKWAN

soooo whipped for how you look and for how cute and shy you’re being! he isn’t used to seeing you like this! most of the time you’re really confident, so this is a new side to you. he feels compelled to compliment you and be really sweet to you because he doesn’t think there’s any reason for you to feel self-concsious about your body. he finds you so hot!! he’d be so touchy and playful, flirting with you and being really openly affectionate. It’s kind of a power dynamic change-up for you two which adds a layer of fun for him. you feel encouraged and relaxed by his sweet behavior.

VERNON

He doesn’t understand why you’re self-concsious at all. telling you that you’re beautiful and that you look amazing is simply stating an indisputable fact to him. he watches you as you gradually relax, not pushing the issue too much because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. plus, being super effusive is not his style. he’s more of the “this-is-just-simply-the-way-it-is” about complimenting you, which kind of disarms your emabarassed feelings!

DINO

ugh, this lil sweetie pie... he would be so affectionate toward you. he would find that perfect line between building up your confidence and not drawing too much attention to your insecurity. he would also be kind of turned on? lol. he would keep it cool around others, but he would probably bring up how hot you looked to him after the fact.

[neuvistar]

how are they in bed? 18+ minors do not interact !

— featuring ┊honkai star rail, genshin impact, jujutsu kaisen, blue lock, omniscient reader’s viewpoint men x afab!reader !

tags: @yanqingisim

your body was supported by the pillows he put beneath you, catching your lips in his before cupping your chin as he kept an arm around your waist. pulling away from your lips briefly after as he let your foreheads touch. his thrusts are steady and romantic, you could even sense passion in them as well.. like he’s fucking you with love, with emotion almost. he wanted you to feel them, to feel the love in his slow and sensual thrusts.. he can’t help it. his hands are already on your hips, angling them just right as his cock slips perfectly inside your drenched cunt. his kisses are filled with love too, planting them all over your body while you thread your fingers in his hair, small yet sweet whimpers leaving your lips. “is this alright? i’m— fuuck.. not hurting you too much now, am i?”

listen. trust me babes.. he’s gentle. and i don’t mean gentle, i mean gentle. gentle as in he treats you like a gem that should be treasured and protected, holding you like you were a feather of some sort. i assure you he loves to make sure that you’re taking him alright, reassuring you that you’re doing great.. asking you questions if he’s being too rough or if he should slow down. he takes his sweet time with you, making sure he worships every single detail and every single thing about you.. he wants you to be comfortable and he wants this to be the most comfortable experience for you. he makes sure that he caresses and kisses literally every single part of you, he’s not letting a spot go untouched.. his hands are gonna be all over you! of course they are, they’re filled with love and pure affection.. all for you. he’s definitely prepared and has a whole plan ready for aftercare afterwards, he’s just.. so sweet ! all for you too ! this man treats you like royalty during aftercare it’s so sweet, his aftercare is ON TOP i tell you <3 he never disappoints with how caring he is towards you whenever he finishes dicking you down for the night.. haha.

— SUGURU GETO, NEUVILLETTE, ARATAKI ITTO, kaeya alberich, KAVEH, nanami kento, KAEDEHARA KAZUHA, dan heng, SHIKANOIN HEIZOU, GEPARD, JING YUAN, luocha, KIM DOKJA, THOMA

tbh w u.. he said that he’d be gentle but he isn’t! honestly tho he doesn’t mean to be all rough in the first place! he just loves how addicting it is to have your pussy pulse around his dick like it’s nothing, he loves how good it feels when his cock twitching inside for more, in other words.. he’s more desperate rather than rough but whatever we’ll use the word rough in this scenario! of course though, he won’t be too rough that it would hurt.. but as long as you’re fine with it and he sees that you’re taking his cock nicely with no complications, it’s no problem for him. but yet.. his thrusts are fast yet enough to satisfy your needs, enough to drive you crazy as your knuckles turned white from clutching down at the soft surface of the pillow beneath you for support.

he just can’t help it. he fucks you from behind, that sweet yet dangerous expression on his face was enough to catch you off guard! how can he look so nice but fuck you like his life depended on it? it always seemed to confuse you! i’m pretty sure he’s capable of lasting a few rounds or so as long as you’re okay with them. on top of that, he’s good at using his cock.. he knows the right places to hit and the right places to make you weak, he loves taking you from the back so he can see just how roughly he’s being with you, especially with how hot you look with his dick repeatedly sliding in and out of your cunt at a quickened pace, you were always taking it like an absolute champ! i’m sure you didn’t expect him to be rough in bed, but he didn’t either! he didn’t even know he had this side in him until now! but who knows? maybe he wasn’t aware of the lust within his body until he got to experience it himself.

— kamisato ayato, TOJI FUSHIGURO, sampo koski, SHIU KONG, al-haitham, OLIVER AIKU, BLADE, wriothesley, RYUSEI SHIDOU, il dottore, capitano, PANTALONE

ah yes. here we have the guys who just take in your sounds and savour the feeling. tbh, these guys are in the middle.. if you want them to be tough, they’ll be rough! if you want them to be gentle, they’ll be gentle! they can play both, but if he’s actually dicking you down for the night.. i can guarantee that his eyes would be on you the entire time.. keeping tracks of your movements to check for any discomforts in your facial expressions or body language. he wants to make you feel good, yes.. but he also wants to savour in the feeling of your pussy hugging his dick too! he’s so calm during the moment, the sounds of bed squeaking and skin slapping against one another.. followed by your heavy panting and his soft grunts were the only things you could both hear. he fucks you at the pace he likes, or the pace you prefer. he doesn’t mind pounding into you like there’s no tomorrow and he certainly doesn’t mind taking it slow with you.. allowing you to savour in the moment further.

like i said, he can be what you prefer. if you want him to be rough, he’ll be rough. if you want him to take it slow and be gentle, he’ll be gentle. honestly, he might just be a teeny tiny bit quiet during the moment as well. he’s either getting lost in the moment and obsessing over just how good it feels to pound you like how ever wants to or he forces himself to stay quiet just so he can hear those pretty moans that leave your lips, knowing just how damn good hes fucking you. like i said, he’s not that verbal but that doesn’t mean he won’t let a few grunts or two escape his throat! he just wants to hear you whisper his name under your breath while he bullies his dick further inside your walls until his whole length fits! ++ his aftercare is also great i bet <3

— YOO JOONGHYUK, SATORU GOJO, cyno, SCARAMOUCHE,, XIAO, tighnari, pantalone, dainsleif, CHILDE, BAIZHU, SAE ITOSHI, albedo, CHOSO KAMO, diluc ragnvindr, welt yang, ZHONGLI

[darknesseddiem]

𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫! 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐝! 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Eddie, a witty single dad in his thirties, finds his daughter Selene determined to play matchmaker. Selene sets her sights on you, the kind-hearted teacher she believes is perfect for her dad. However, Selene's well-meaning schemes often lead to humorous misunderstandings and mishaps between Eddie and you.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: None, fluff and Selene playing matchmaker.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8k+

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Okay, this was supposed to be a short blurb but I got carried away haha, also, I feel like this is so shitty omg I'm sorry guys.

Being a dad wasn’t in Eddie’s plans—especially not as a single dad. He loved his daughter Selene more than anything, but raising a newborn at thirty was a challenge he never saw coming. Her mom, a groupie he met at the Hideout, appeared on his doorstep one day with a tiny bundle and the bombshell news that he was a father. Then, just as quickly, she vanished, leaving Eddie to figure out fatherhood on his own.

At first, it was overwhelming. Sleepless nights, diaper disasters, and the constant worry of not being good enough haunted him. But Eddie rose to the challenge. He became the best dad Selene could ask for. He let her dress him up like a princess—complete with tiara—just to see her smile. He sang girly pop songs with all the enthusiasm of a rock concert, even if his Taylor Swift renditions were hilariously off-key. Selene’s giggles were worth every missed note and awkward dance move.

As she grew, new challenges arose. Eddie was terrified of kindergarten and primary school, haunted by memories of his own school days filled with bullying and the heavy stigma of being a Munson. He worried Selene would face the same judgments and social struggles. The thought of her enduring what he went through kept him up at night. But his love for her was unwavering, and he vowed to protect her from the shadows of his past.

Dating fell by the wayside as Eddie devoted himself to Selene. His wild nights at the Hideout were replaced by Disney movie marathons and bedtime stories. He traded late-night parties for evenings filled with princesses, talking animals, and endless reruns of "Frozen." And truth be told, he wouldn’t trade those moments for anything.

This shift led to the current heart-to-heart with his friend Steve, someone Eddie never thought he'd befriend. As they sat on the couch, Eddie voiced his frustrations.

“You don’t understand, man. I can’t just go out and date any girl now,” Eddie explained, sipping his cold beer.

“I get it, but ever since Selene was born, you don’t go out anymore—not even with us!” Steve said, frustration evident. “You’ve turned into a hermit, man. You need a life outside of Disney movies and bedtime stories.”

Eddie sighed, staring at the flickering TV. “I know, Steve. It’s just... everything’s different now. I can’t just drop everything and go out like I used to.”

Steve nodded sympathetically. “I get that you’re a dad now, but you’ve gotta take care of yourself too. Maybe it’s time to dip your toes back into the dating pool. Who knows? You might find someone who understands and fits into your new life.”

Eddie let out a wry chuckle. “I doubt that. What kind of woman wants a thirty-six-year-old guy with a daughter? Slim pickings, I tell you.”

Steve squeezed Eddie’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t count yourself out, buddy. We’ll find you someone.”

Eddie looked at Steve with a hint of resignation. “Forget it, Steve,” he sighed. “I think I’m destined to be alone for the rest of my life.” He rolled his eyes playfully, masking the underlying sadness with humor.

Just then, a small figure emerged from the hallway shadows. Selene stood there, eyes wide and thoughtful. Eddie and Steve turned, momentarily surprised.

Eddie's heart skipped a beat, realizing she had heard everything. He swallowed hard, unsure of what to say.

Selene looked up at her dad with a serious expression. “Daddy, you don’t have to be alone. I can help find you a girlfriend!”

Eddie blinked, taken aback by her earnestness. He exchanged a surprised glance with Steve, who stifled a chuckle.

“Sel,” Eddie started, his voice softening as he knelt to her level, “It’s sweet of you to want to help, but…”

“But what?” Selene interrupted, eyes wide with determination.

“But it’s not that simple,” Eddie explained gently. “Finding someone special takes time, and they have to be someone who understands how important you are to me.”

Selene nodded thoughtfully, processing her dad’s words. “Okay,” she finally said, a small smile playing on her lips. “But when you find her, can we watch Disney movies together?”

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at his daughter’s innocence. “Of course, sweetheart,” he replied, ruffling her hair affectionately.

Steve watched the exchange with a fond smile. “You’ve got quite the matchmaker here, Eddie,” he remarked, patting Eddie’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a while. “She’s something else.”

While Eddie and Steve chuckled over their beers, finding amusement in the situation, Selene had already made up her mind: she would find her daddy a girlfriend.

Returning to her room, Selene plopped down on her bed and began to think about all the adult women she knew. Well, there was the librarian, Mrs. Petterson, but she looked like an old owl with her thick glasses and constant "shushing." Then there was the girl from the bakery who always brought cakes for her and her daddy, but she smelled weird—like a mix of flour and something Selene couldn't quite place, maybe too much vanilla.

She briefly considered the nice lady from the grocery store who always gave her stickers, but she remembered her loud, witchy laugh that made her shiver. And then there was Mrs. Hinkley, the neighbor with the ten cats, but Selene was pretty sure her daddy was allergic to cats.

She sighed dramatically and sank deeper into her pillow. Wow… It was so hard to get a girlfriend. It seemed like every woman she knew had some kind of issue or quirk. Just then, a light bulb went off in her head. She sat up abruptly, her eyes wide with excitement. Her kindergarten teacher, Miss Sunshine! Miss Sunshine was perfect—she was always kind, smelled nice, and most importantly, Selene adored her.

With renewed determination, Selene smiled to herself. This was going to work. It had to! She just needed to come up with a plan. After all, if finding a girlfriend for her daddy was this hard, actually making it happen would require all her wits and maybe a bit of luck.

That night, Selene went to sleep with her head buzzing with ideas. Tomorrow, her plan would begin. She could already picture it: Daddy and Miss Sunshine, happy together. Selene smiled to herself as she drifted off, dreaming of all the ways she would bring them together.

The next morning, Selene woke up with the first rays of dawn, excitement bubbling inside her like a fizzy soda. She could hardly contain her enthusiasm as she slipped out of bed and padded over to her dresser. Today was the day her grand plan would begin.

She chose her favorite princess dress, the one with sparkles and a twirl-worthy skirt, and carefully pulled it on. She took extra time brushing her hair, making sure it was smooth and shiny, just like a real princess. Finally, she checked her reflection and gave herself a big, confident smile. She was ready.

Eddie was already in the kitchen, juggling a frying pan and a coffee mug. He was making scrambled eggs and toast, a breakfast staple in the Munson household. He hummed softly to himself, enjoying the quiet morning routine.

Selene bounded into the kitchen, her dress fluttering around her. "Morning, Daddy!" she chirped, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Eddie turned, a broad smile spreading across his face at the sight of his daughter. "Good morning, princess! You’re up early today."

Selene climbed onto a chair at the kitchen table, her excitement barely contained. "I have a special day planned, Daddy. It’s very important!"

Eddie chuckled as he placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of her. "Oh? And what’s so special about today?"

Selene leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It’s a secret, but you’ll find out soon."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A secret, huh? Well, I guess I’ll just have to wait and see."

After breakfast, Eddie and Selene headed out to the car. Eddie helped Selene buckle into her booster seat before climbing into the driver’s seat. As they drove to school, Selene hummed a happy tune, her mind racing with thoughts of how the day would unfold.

Eddie glanced at her in the rearview mirror, a soft smile playing on his lips. "You seem extra happy today, Sel. Anything you want to share with your old man?"

Selene giggled. "Not yet, Daddy. But it’s going to be amazing. You’ll see."

Eddie laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "Alright, princess. I trust you."

When they arrived at the school, Eddie walked Selene to her classroom, as he did every morning. You were already there, greeting students with your usual warmth. Your bright smile and sunny demeanor earned you the nickname, and you was a favorite among the children and parents alike.

"Good morning, Miss Sunshine!" Selene called out as she entered the classroom, her excitement evident.

"Good morning, Selene!" You replied, your smile widening. "You look lovely today. Is that a new dress?"

Selene twirled around, showing off her outfit. "No, but it’s my favorite!"

Eddie watched the exchange with a fond smile before stepping forward. "Morning, Miss Sunshine. How are you?"

"I’m great, Mr. Munson. How about you?"

"Can’t complain," Eddie replied, giving you a nod before turning to Selene. "Alright, princess. Have a great day. I’ll see you later."

As soon as Eddie left, Selene’s determination kicked into high gear. She needed to talk to you and set her plan in motion. She waited patiently until the morning activities started, then approached you with a serious expression.

"Miss Sunshine, I have a very important message for you," Selene said, her voice solemn.

You knelt down to her level, intrigued. "What’s the message, Selene?"

"Daddy wants to meet you," Selene stated confidently. "He said he needs to talk to you about something very important."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Oh? Did he say why?"

Selene nodded eagerly. "Yep! He said he needs to talk to you about something super important."

Your mind raced, trying to decipher the meaning behind Selene’s words. She assumed it must be related to Selene’s behavior or perhaps a concern Eddie had about her schooling. "Is everything okay with you, Selene?"

Selene beamed. "Everything is perfect!"

You smiled, albeit a bit confused. "Alright, I’ll make sure to speak with him when he comes to pick you up."

Eddie arrived at the school later that afternoon, looking forward to seeing Selene after a long day. As he walked towards the classroom, he noticed you standing by the door, a concerned look on your face.

"Hello!" Eddie greeted you with a friendly smile.

"Hello, Mr. Munson. Could I have a word with you?" you asked, your tone a bit more serious than usual.

Eddie’s smile faltered. "Sure, is something wrong?"

You glanced at Selene, who was busy drawing at a nearby table. "Well, Selene mentioned that you wanted to talk to me about something important."

Eddie looked puzzled. "She did? I mean, I guess there’s always something to talk about when you’re a parent, but I didn’t have anything specific in mind."

You frowned slightly, your patience thinning. "She said you were concerned about something."

Eddie’s expression hardened, feeling a twinge of irritation. "Concerned? No, Selene’s been great! I can’t think of any problems."

Selene, overhearing the conversation, decided to join in. "Daddy, did you ask Mrs. Sunshine to be your girlfriend yet?"

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock. "What? No, Selene, that’s not what we talked about!"

Your cheeks turned a shade of pink, and you folded your arms. "Oh, I see. This is a bit... unexpected."

Eddie tried to regain his composure, his voice tense and a bit louder. "I’m really sorry. Selene must have misunderstood our conversation. We were talking about... well, adult stuff, and she must have gotten the wrong idea."

You nodded, but your expression remained serious. "No harm done, but you should know what your daughter is thinking. Kids have such vivid imaginations, but it’s important to clarify these things."

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his frustration rise. "Yeah, she’s definitely got that. I hope this didn’t cause you any trouble."

You shook your head, your smile more strained than genuine. "Not at all, but maybe you should have a talk with her."

Selene looked up at both of you, confused by the adult tension but proud of her efforts. "So, you don’t want to be my daddy’s girlfriend?"

Eddie clenched his jaw, his frustration bubbling over. "Selene, I think it’s best if we leave this to the grown-ups, okay?"

Selene sighed dramatically but nodded. "Okay, Daddy."

You crouched down beside her, your tone softening. "Don’t worry, Selene. Your daddy and I are just friends, and that’s important too."

Selene smiled, satisfied for the moment. Eddie stood up, feeling a mix of relief and lingering irritation.

"Thanks for understanding," he said, his tone sharper than intended.

"No problem at all, Mr. Munson. Have a good evening," you replied, matching his tone.

As they walked away, Eddie couldn’t help but feel a mix of frustration and embarrassment. Despite the awkwardness, he appreciated Selene’s efforts but knew this was just the beginning of what could be a long, complicated journey.

Eddie and Selene walked to the car, Eddie’s mind still buzzing with the awkward exchange with Sunshine. As they buckled in, Eddie couldn’t hold back any longer. He needed to address what had just happened.

Eddie started the car, the engine’s hum filling the initial silence. He glanced at Selene through the rearview mirror, her innocent face reflecting none of the confusion and frustration swirling inside him.

“Selene,” Eddie began, trying to keep his voice calm, “we need to talk about what happened today.”

Selene looked up, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Did you like talking to Sunshine, Daddy?”

Eddie sighed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “Selene, you told Sunshine that I wanted to talk to her about something important. Why did you do that?”

Selene’s face lit up with a proud smile. “Because you do! You told Uncle Steve you wanted someone to share your life with, and I thought Sunshine would be perfect!”

Eddie groaned inwardly, trying to suppress his irritation. “Sweetheart, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you can’t just tell people things like that. It caused a big misunderstanding.”

Selene’s smile faded, replaced by a look of confusion. “But I just wanted to help.”

Eddie glanced at her again, his frustration evident but softened by her earnest expression. “I know you did, but grown-up stuff is complicated. You can’t just decide for someone else who they should be with.”

Selene’s eyes welled up with tears, her lower lip quivering. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I just wanted you to be happy.”

Eddie’s heart softened, his frustration melting away at the sight of her tears. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned to look at her directly.

“Selene,” he said gently, reaching back to hold her tiny hand, “I know you want to help, and I love you for that. But finding someone special is something that has to happen naturally. You can’t force it or plan it.”

Selene sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I just thought Sunshine would make you smile like she makes me smile.”

Eddie smiled softly, squeezing her hand. “She’s a wonderful teacher, Selene, and I’m glad she makes you happy. But these things take time, and we have to let them happen on their own.”

Selene nodded slowly, understanding dawning in her eyes. “Okay, Daddy. I’m really sorry.”

Eddie leaned over and kissed her forehead. “It’s okay, princess. Just promise me you won’t try to set me up with anyone again without talking to me first.”

Selene nodded earnestly. “I promise.”

Eddie started the car again, his heart feeling lighter. As they drove home, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the day’s events. Despite the awkwardness and frustration, he knew Selene’s intentions were pure. 

Later that night, Selene sat quietly in her room, her little mind racing with thoughts. The plan hadn’t gone as expected, but she wasn’t ready to give up yet. There had to be another way to get her daddy and Sunshine together. She picked up her favorite stuffed animal, Mr. Whiskers, and hugged it tight as she brainstormed.

"What if Daddy invited Sunshine to dinner?" she whispered to Mr. Whiskers. "Maybe then they could talk and get to know each other better."

She nodded to herself, feeling a new wave of determination. Tomorrow, she would find a way to get Daddy to invite Sunshine over for dinner. But for now, it was time for dinner with Daddy.

Downstairs, Eddie was busy in the kitchen, preparing their usual Wednesday night spaghetti. The aroma of garlic and tomato sauce filled the air, making Selene’s stomach rumble. She hopped off her bed and made her way downstairs, her excitement momentarily forgotten as she thought about how much she loved spaghetti nights with her dad.

"Dinner’s almost ready, princess," Eddie called out as he stirred the pot. "Can you set the table for me?"

"Sure, Daddy!" Selene replied, grabbing the plates and silverware. She carefully set the table, making sure everything was perfect.

Eddie brought the pot over and began serving the spaghetti, a warm smile on his face as he watched Selene carefully placing the forks and spoons. They sat down together, the cozy kitchen a safe haven for the two of them.

As they ate, Selene decided to ask the question that had been lingering in her mind for a while. "Daddy, why don’t I have a mom?"

Eddie froze, the fork halfway to his mouth. He put it down slowly, taking a deep breath. This was a conversation he had known would come eventually, but it didn’t make it any easier. He looked at Selene, her big, innocent eyes staring up at him, waiting for an answer.

"Selene," he began softly, "your mom... well, she wasn’t ready to be a mom. When you were born, she decided that she couldn’t take care of you, so she left. It’s just been you and me ever since."

Selene’s eyes filled with confusion and sadness. "But why did she leave, Daddy? Wasn’t she happy to have me?"

Eddie’s heart ached at the sight of her tears. He moved his chair closer to hers and pulled her into his lap, holding her close. "It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. Your mom had her own problems and she made a choice. But I want you to know that you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you more than anything in this world, and I wouldn’t trade our time together for anything."

Selene sniffled, burying her face in Eddie’s chest. "I love you too, Daddy. But sometimes I wish I had a mom like the other kids."

Eddie stroked her hair, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I know, baby. I wish things were different too. But you have so many people who love you—Uncle Steve, Miss Sunshine, and all your friends at school. And no matter what, you’ll always have me."

Selene hugged him tighter, feeling the comfort of his embrace. "I know, Daddy. I’m glad I have you."

They sat there for a while, holding each other, finding solace in their shared love. Eddie knew he couldn’t change the past, but he was determined to give Selene the best future he could. And maybe, just maybe, things would start to look up for both of them.

Later that night, as Eddie tucked Selene into bed, she looked up at him with a determined expression. "Daddy, can we invite Sunshine to dinner? Maybe she’d like spaghetti too."

Eddie chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "We’ll see, princess. Let’s take things one step at a time, okay?"

Selene nodded, her eyes already drooping with sleep. "Okay, Daddy. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Selene," Eddie whispered, kissing her forehead. He turned off the light and closed the door, feeling a mix of hope and trepidation. Tomorrow was another day, and who knew what it might bring. But for now, he was grateful for the love he shared with his daughter, even if it was just the two of them against the world.

The next morning, Selene woke up with a renewed sense of determination. She jumped out of bed and dressed quickly in her favorite outfit—a bright yellow dress covered in tiny sunflowers. With a smile on her face, she ran downstairs to find Eddie already in the kitchen, flipping pancakes.

“Morning, Daddy!” she chirped, hopping onto her chair at the kitchen table.

Eddie turned around, a spatula in hand, and grinned at his daughter. “Morning, princess. You’re up early today.”

Selene beamed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I wanted to see you before you go to work. Are you picking me up today?”

Eddie shook his head as he slid a pancake onto a plate and handed it to Selene. “Not today, sweetie. Auntie Robin’s going to pick you up, remember? I have a late shift.”

“Oh, right,” Selene said, her mind already racing with thoughts of her plan. “Daddy, can we go to school a little earlier today? I want to show you something.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, curious. “Earlier? How early?”

“Like… really early,” Selene said, trying to sound casual. “Maybe before you usually leave for work?”

Eddie laughed, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Alright, but not too early. I still need to get ready for work.”

Eddie pulled up to the school, glancing at the clock. They were a bit earlier than usual, but not by much. He parked the car and turned to Selene.

“Okay, we’re here. What did you want to show me?” he asked.

“Actually, Daddy, I just wanted to spend a little more time with you,” Selene said, giving him her most innocent smile.

Eddie’s heart melted. “Alright, let’s go inside.”

As they walked towards the school entrance, they spotted you, rushing around with a stack of papers in your hands. You looked frazzled and stressed, clearly having a hectic morning.

Selene tugged on Eddie’s hand. “Look, Daddy! There’s Sunshine!”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Selene, wait—”

But it was too late. Selene had already run over to you, waving enthusiastically. “Hi, Sunshine!”

You looked up, startled. “Oh, hi Selene. Good morning, Mr. Munson.”

Eddie gave an awkward wave. “Morning. Sorry, we’re here a bit early today.”

You forced a smile, clearly in a rush. “It’s alright, but I’m kind of busy right now. I have a meeting to get to.”

Selene, undeterred, piped up. “Daddy wanted to talk to you again!”

Eddie’s face flushed with embarrassment and a hint of anger. “Selene, I didn’t—”

Just then, another teacher approached you, whispering urgently in your ear. You glanced at Eddie and Selene, then at your watch, your frustration mounting.

“I’m really sorry, but I need to go,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “Maybe another time?”

Eddie nodded, feeling awkward and out of place. “Yeah, of course. Sorry to bother you.”

As you turned to leave, Eddie realized that in his haste to follow Selene, he had parked his car in a way that was now blocking yours. You tried to get into your car, only to see that you couldn’t back out.

“Seriously?” you muttered under your breath, turning back to Eddie with a frown. “Mr. Munson, your car is blocking mine.”

Eddie’s face turned red, a mix of frustration and embarrassment boiling inside him. “Oh, crap. I’m so sorry. I’ll move it right now.”

You sighed, your frustration clear. “I’m going to be late for a really important meeting because of this.”

Eddie hurried to move his car, his movements jerky and tense. The damage was done; you were visibly upset, and he could feel the tension building. As soon as he reparked, you got into your car, throwing him one last irritated glance before driving off.

Selene stood by the curb, her face falling as she watched the scene unfold. Eddie walked back to her, his expression a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“Daddy, I—”

Eddie cut her off, his tone harsher than he intended. “Selene, what were you thinking? You can’t just drag me over to talk to Sunshine.”

Selene’s eyes welled up with tears, her lower lip trembling. “I just wanted you to be happy, Daddy…”

Eddie’s anger softened, replaced by a pang of regret. He knelt down and pulled her into a hug, feeling her small body shake with sobs. “I know, baby. I know. But we need to think things through before we act. You can’t just spring stuff like this on people.”

Selene sniffled, nodding against his chest. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing her back gently. “It’s okay, Sel. Let’s just get you to class, alright? We’ll figure this out.”

As he walked Selene to her classroom, Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling of frustration and embarrassment. This wasn’t how he wanted things to go, and now he had made things even more awkward with you. The misunderstanding was only growing, and he worried about how they would ever get past it.

Later that day, Auntie Robin arrived to pick up Selene. She noticed Eddie’s tense expression and Selene’s subdued demeanor.

“What happened?” Robin asked, concerned.

Eddie sighed. “Long story. Selene tried to play matchmaker again, and it didn’t go well.”

Robin shook her head with a sympathetic smile. “Kids, huh? Don’t worry, dingus. It’ll work out eventually.”

Eddie nodded, hoping she was right. As he watched Robin drive away with Selene, he couldn’t help but wonder how he was going to fix this mess. And more importantly, how he could protect Selene’s heart in the process.

He spent the rest of the day feeling uneasy. As he went through his work shift, his mind kept drifting back to the incident at school. He couldn’t shake the image of your frustrated expression or Selene’s teary eyes. He knew he had to make things right.

During his lunch break, Eddie sat in the break room, staring at his phone. The idea of apologizing made his stomach churn with nerves, but he knew it was the right thing to do. He dialed Robin’s number, hoping for some advice.

“Hey, dingus! How’s it going?” Robin’s cheerful voice greeted him.

“Hey, Robin. I need your help with something,” Eddie replied, his voice heavy with the weight of his thoughts.

“Sure, what’s up?” she asked, sensing his seriousness.

Eddie took a deep breath. “It’s about this morning. Selene and I had a bit of a run-in with her teacher. It was really awkward and… I kind of snapped at Selene.”

Robin listened patiently as Eddie recounted the events of the morning. “Sounds like a rough start to the day,” she said sympathetically. “But hey, kids have big hearts and even bigger imaginations. Selene was just trying to help.”

“I know,” Eddie sighed. “I feel terrible. I need to apologize to her, but I just don’t know how to go about it.”

“Well,” Robin began thoughtfully, “why don’t you write her a note? Explain what happened and say you’re sorry. It’ll show you’re sincere.”

Eddie nodded, feeling a bit of relief at having a plan. “Thanks, Robin. I’ll do that.”

After work, Eddie picked up Selene from Robin’s house. As they drove home, Selene sat quietly in the back seat, her earlier enthusiasm dampened by the morning’s events.

“Hey, Sel,” Eddie said softly, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “I’m going to write a note to Miss Sunshine to apologize. Do you want to help me?”

Selene’s eyes brightened a little. “Can I draw a picture for her too?”

Eddie smiled. “That’s a great idea, princess. I’m sure she’d love that.”

Once they were home, Eddie and Selene sat at the kitchen table. Eddie began writing the note while Selene drew a colorful picture of their family, complete with you standing next to them with a big smile.

Eddie’s note:

"Dear Y/n,

I wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding this morning. Selene and I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. She was just excited, and I didn’t handle the situation as well as I should have. I’m really sorry for blocking your car and making you late for your meeting.

Thank you for your understanding, and I hope we can move past this.

Sincerely, Eddie Munson"

Eddie read the note out loud to Selene, who nodded approvingly. “That sounds good, Daddy.”

“Alright, let’s put this together,” Eddie said, taping Selene’s drawing to the note. “We’ll give it to her tomorrow.”

The next morning, Eddie felt a mix of nervousness and anxiety as he and Selene arrived at the school. They waited until you had a free moment, then approached you with the note and drawing in hand.

“Hey,” Eddie began, his voice earnest. “I wanted to give you this. It’s an apology for yesterday.”

You took the note and drawing, your expression softening as you read Eddie’s heartfelt words and admired Selene’s artwork.

“Thank you, Mr. Munson,” you said, smiling at Selene. “And thank you, Selene, for the beautiful drawing.”

Eddie felt a wave of relief wash over him. “I’m really sorry for everything. It won’t happen again.”

You nodded, the tension between you easing. “I appreciate the apology. Let’s just start fresh, okay?”

Eddie smiled, feeling hopeful for the first time in days. “Sounds good to me. Have a great day, Miss Sunshine.”

The school day was moving along smoothly, but you couldn’t help but notice that Selene seemed quieter than usual. Typically, she was a bundle of energy, chatting with friends and eagerly participating in activities. Today, however, she was more subdued, her usual spark dimmed.

During arts and crafts time, Selene sat at her table, her crayons barely moving across the paper. You watched her for a moment, concern growing. Deciding to check in, you walked over and knelt beside her.

“Hey, Selene,” you said softly. “What are you drawing?”

She looked up at you with big, sad eyes. “I’m drawing my family,” she said quietly. On the paper, you saw a simple drawing of a house, with stick figures representing her and her dad. There was also a faint outline of a figure beside them, but it was left unfinished.

“That’s a lovely drawing,” you said, trying to encourage her. “Who’s that?” you asked, pointing to the unfinished figure.

Selene hesitated, her lip quivering. “I wanted to draw my mom, but I don’t really know what she looks like.”

Your heart ached for her. You knew from previous conversations with Eddie that Selene’s mother wasn’t in the picture, but seeing the impact it had on her was heartbreaking. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Selene. Your drawing is beautiful just the way it is.”

She gave a small nod, but her eyes remained downcast. “I just wish I knew her,” she whispered.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I know it’s hard, sweetie. But you have your dad, and he loves you very much. And you have all of us here, too.”

Selene offered a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks, Miss.”

The rest of the day, you kept an eye on her, making sure she felt included and supported. As the school day ended, you saw Eddie arrive to pick her up. You decided it might be a good idea to talk to him about Selene’s mood.

“Hi, Mr. Munson,” you greeted him as he approached.

“Hi,” he replied, managing a smile. “How was Selene today?”

You hesitated, not wanting to alarm him but feeling it was important to share. “She was a bit quieter than usual. I think she might be feeling a bit down.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed in concern. “Really? Did she say why?”

“She mentioned something about her mom,” you said gently. “I think she’s just having a hard time with it.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, she asked me about her mom other day, I tried to explain, but it’s tough. She doesn’t understand why her mom isn’t around.”

You nodded, understanding the difficult position he was in. “If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said, his gratitude evident. “I appreciate it.”

As they walked away, you couldn’t help but feel a deep empathy for both Eddie and Selene.

Later that evening, as you prepared for bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about Selene’s sad eyes and Eddie’s worried expression. You resolved to keep an extra close eye on Selene in the coming days, doing whatever you could to bring a bit of sunshine back into her life.

Over the next few days, Selene’s sadness seemed to deepen. Her usually bright eyes were often downcast, and her infectious laughter was rarely heard. It was as if a cloud had settled over her, and it worried you deeply.

In class, she no longer eagerly raised her hand to answer questions or shared her imaginative stories with the group. She would sit quietly, barely engaging in activities that she used to love. During recess, instead of running around with her friends, she would find a quiet corner to sit and watch the other kids play.

One morning, as you were preparing for the day’s lessons, you noticed Selene sitting alone on the swings. She was gently swaying back and forth, her gaze fixed on the ground. You decided to take a moment to check on her.

“Hey, Sel,” you said softly, sitting on the swing next to her. “Do you want to talk about what’s been bothering you?”

Selene shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “I miss my mom,” she said quietly. “I don’t even know her, but I miss her.”

Your heart broke for her. “I know it’s really hard, sweetie. It’s okay to feel sad and miss someone, even if you haven’t met them.”

She nodded, her small hands gripping the chains of the swing tightly. “Daddy tries to make me feel better, but I can tell he’s sad too.”

You sighed, wishing there was more you could do to ease her pain. “You know, Selene, you have a lot of people who care about you. Your dad and all your friends here. We’re all here for you.”

She gave a small nod, but the sadness in her eyes remained.

Eddie was at his wit's end. He’d noticed the change in Selene’s behavior, and it tore him apart. She was his world, and seeing her so downcast made him feel helpless. Every evening, he tried to cheer her up with her favorite activities – watching Disney movies, playing dress-up, reading her favorite bedtime stories – but nothing seemed to lift her spirits.

One night, as he tucked her into bed, he tried to talk to her again. “Selene, sweetie, I can tell you’ve been really sad lately. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Selene looked up at him with teary eyes. “I just miss my mom, Daddy. I don’t understand why she’s not here.”

Eddie’s heart ached. He wished he could give her the answers she needed. “I know, sweetheart. I wish I could change things, but sometimes people make choices that hurt us, even if they don’t mean to.”

Selene sniffled, wiping her eyes. “Will she ever come back?”

Eddie swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her question. “I don’t know, Sel. But what I do know is that I love you more than anything, and I’m always going to be here for you.”

Selene nodded, her little face still filled with sadness. “I love you too, Daddy.”

As she drifted off to sleep, Eddie sat by her bedside, feeling a mixture of anger and sorrow. He hated that he couldn’t make things better for her, that he couldn’t erase the pain of her mother’s absence.

The following day, Eddie arrived at school early, looking more haggard than usual. You could see the worry etched on his face as he walked Selene to her classroom. After she settled in, he approached you, running a hand through his hair.

“Hey,” he began, his voice strained. “I’m really worried about Selene. She’s been so sad, and I don’t know what to do.”

You nodded, understanding his concern. “I’ve noticed it too. She’s been very quiet and withdrawn. Have you thought about maybe talking to a counselor? It might help her to have someone to talk to about her feelings.”

Eddie sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. I just want to fix it myself, you know? I hate seeing her like this.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But sometimes, we all need a little extra help. It doesn’t mean you’re not doing enough; it just means that there are people who can support you both.”

He nodded, looking down the hallway where Selene was sitting quietly at her desk. “I’ll think about it. Thanks, Y/n.”

As the days continued, you kept a close eye on Selene, doing your best to engage her in class and offering her extra support. 

As the days passed and Selene’s sadness persisted, an idea sparked in your mind. Maybe a change of scenery and a special treat would help lift her spirits. You approached Eddie one afternoon after school, catching him as he was picking up Selene from her classroom.

“Hey, Mr. Munson,” you greeted him with a warm smile. “I was thinking, maybe Selene could use a little outing to the park this weekend. How about we take her for some ice cream?”

Eddie looked at you, surprise flickering in his tired eyes. “Ice cream?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Sometimes a little treat and some fresh air can do wonders. What do you think?”

Eddie glanced down at Selene, who was quietly packing her backpack. He could see the traces of sadness lingering on her face. “I think that sounds like a great idea,” he said finally, offering you a grateful smile.

Eddie watched as Selene perked up at the mention of ice cream. Her eyes lit up with a spark of excitement that he hadn’t seen in days. He couldn’t remember the last time they had gone out for a treat like that together. Maybe this was just what she needed.

That weekend, Eddie and Selene met you at the park. The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the playground. Selene ran ahead, eager to explore the swings and slides while you and Eddie followed close behind.

“You’re really good with her, you know,” Eddie said as he watched Selene climb onto the swings.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “She’s a special girl. Just trying to help.”

Eddie nodded, grateful for your support. “I appreciate it. And thanks for suggesting this. I think it’s just what she needed.”

As Selene laughed and played, her laughter echoing through the park, Eddie felt a weight lift off his shoulders. For the first time in days, he saw a glimmer of joy in her eyes. Maybe things would be okay after all.

Watching Selene laugh and play brought a sense of joy to your heart. She deserved moments like this – carefree and happy. You glanced at Eddie, seeing the relief on his face as he watched his daughter.

“I’m glad she’s enjoying herself,” you said softly, leaning closer to Eddie.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving Selene. “Yeah, me too. Thanks for suggesting this.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you replied sincerely. “If there’s anything else I can do to help, just let me know.”

Eddie turned to you, a grateful smile spreading across his face. “You’ve already done a lot. I appreciate it.”

As the afternoon wore on, you and Eddie joined Selene on the playground, pushing her on the swings and chasing her around the jungle gym. For a few hours, Selene’s sadness seemed to melt away, replaced by laughter and the simple joy of being a kid.

As the sun began to set, you all sat on a bench, enjoying the last rays of warmth. Eddie glanced at you, his eyes softening with gratitude. “Thanks for today,” he said quietly. “It meant a lot to both of us.”

You smiled warmly. “Anytime, Eddie. She’s lucky to have you.”

He nodded, a hint of emotion in his voice. “And we’re lucky to have you too.”

After their afternoon at the park, Eddie noticed a slight change in Selene. She seemed more like herself again, her laughter returning and a sparkle in her eyes. It gave him hope that maybe things were turning around.

That evening, as they settled in for dinner, Selene looked up at Eddie with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Daddy, can we invite Miss Y/n to come over for dinner sometime? And maybe we can watch Disney movies together?"

Eddie paused, caught off guard by Selene's request. He glanced at her, unsure of how to respond. The idea of spending more time with you outside of school was both appealing and nerve-wracking. But seeing the hopeful look on Selene's face, he couldn't bring himself to say no.

"Sure, Sel," Eddie replied with a small smile. "I can ask Miss Y/n if she'd like to join us sometime."

The next day at school, you were surprised when Eddie approached you after class. He seemed a bit nervous, scratching the back of his neck as he spoke.

"Hey, Y/n," Eddie started, his voice slightly hesitant. "So, uh, Selene mentioned something last night..."

You raised an eyebrow, curious about what Selene had said. "Oh? What did she say?"

Eddie cleared his throat, trying to keep his tone casual. "She asked if you would like to come over for dinner sometime. And maybe we could watch some Disney movies together."

Your heart warmed at Selene's invitation. "That sounds like a lot of fun, Eddie. I'd love to join you and Selene for dinner."

Eddie smiled, relief evident on his face. "Great. How about this Friday? I can cook something, and we can pick out a couple of Selene's favorite movies to watch."

You nodded, feeling excited about the prospect of spending more time with them outside of school. "Friday sounds perfect. I'm looking forward to it."

As you walked away, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. Selene's idea had sparked something hopeful in both Eddie and yourself.

Friday evening arrived faster than Eddie anticipated. He had spent the entire week trying to decide on a menu that would impress you without overdoing it. Cooking wasn't his forte, but for Selene's sake—and now yours—he was determined to make a good impression.

As he chopped vegetables in the kitchen, Selene sat at the dining table, coloring a picture of her favorite Disney princess. Eddie stole glances at her every now and then, grateful for her infectious enthusiasm that kept his nerves at bay.

"Daddy, are you nervous?" Selene suddenly asked, looking up from her drawing.

Eddie chuckled nervously, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "Maybe a little. I just want everything to go well tonight."

Selene smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Daddy. she likes you and me. She'll have fun."

Eddie's heart warmed at Selene's words. He hoped she was right. Just then, the doorbell rang, and Eddie felt a jolt of nerves shoot through him. Taking a deep breath, he hurried to answer it.

You stood nervously outside Eddie's door, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. Despite your efforts to remain calm, your heart raced with anticipation. You had been looking forward to this evening all week, eager to spend more time with Eddie and Selene outside of school.

When Eddie opened the door, your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. He wore a simple button-up shirt and jeans, looking handsome and slightly flustered with a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Hey, Y/n," Eddie greeted you warmly, though you detected a touch of nervousness in his voice.

"Hi, Eddie," you replied with a smile, trying to hide your own nerves. "I brought some dessert."

Eddie stepped aside to let you in, and you entered the cozy apartment, greeted by the inviting aroma of something delicious cooking in the kitchen. Selene rushed over, her face lighting up with excitement.

"Miss Y/n, you're here!" she exclaimed, hugging you tightly. "Come see what Daddy's making!"

You laughed, returning her hug warmly. "I can't wait to see, Selene."

As you followed Selene into the kitchen, Eddie busied himself with setting the table, stealing glances at you whenever he thought you weren't looking. He couldn't help but feel a mixture of nervousness and excitement at having you here with them.

"So, um, how was your day?" Eddie asked awkwardly, trying to make conversation as he stirred a pot on the stove.

You smiled, appreciating his effort. "It was good, thank you. How about you? Busy day at work?"

Eddie nodded, a hint of relief in his voice. "Yeah, pretty busy. But I managed to leave early to get everything ready."

The three of you settled into an easy rhythm, chatting and laughing as Eddie finished cooking. Selene eagerly showed you her latest drawings and told you all about her favorite Disney movies. Eddie couldn't help but notice how comfortable you seemed with them both, and it eased some of his initial nerves.

Finally, dinner was ready, and Eddie served up the meal he had prepared—a hearty pasta dish with a side of garlic bread. As you all sat down to eat, the conversation flowed naturally, filled with laughter and shared stories.

Eddie caught himself stealing glances at you throughout the evening, feeling a warmth spread through him every time your eyes met. He was grateful that Selene had suggested this, bringing you all together in a way that felt natural and comforting.

As the evening drew to a close, Eddie cleared the table while you and Selene curled up on the couch to watch a Disney movie. Eddie joined you both after cleaning up, sitting on the other end of the couch with a contented sigh.

As the movie played, Selene nestled against you, occasionally glancing up at Eddie with a knowing smile. 

After a delightful evening of dinner and Disney movies, Selene yawned and rubbed her eyes sleepily. "I'm tired, Daddy," she murmured, pushing herself up from the couch.

Eddie smiled warmly at her. "Alright, princess. Time for bed."

Selene nodded, giving you a sleepy wave. "Goodnight, Sunshine. Thanks for coming over."

You returned her wave with a gentle smile. "Goodnight, Selene. It was my pleasure."

As Selene disappeared into her room, Eddie settled back on the couch, his expression relaxed yet thoughtful. He glanced at you, a slight nervousness evident in his eyes.

"That was... really nice," Eddie said, breaking the quiet that had settled over them.

You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment in the air. "Yeah, it was. Selene's a sweet kid."

Eddie chuckled softly. "She is. And she really likes you, you know."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "I like her too."

There was a brief pause as Eddie seemed to gather his thoughts. Finally, he spoke again, his voice soft but determined. "Y/n, I... I've been wanting to ask you something."

Your heart skipped a beat, sensing the seriousness in Eddie's tone. "What is it, Eddie?"

He met your gaze, his eyes searching yours. "Would you... would you like to go out with me sometime? Just the two of us?"

You felt a rush of emotions—surprise, happiness, and a touch of nervousness. But above all, there was a genuine warmth in Eddie's request that made your decision easy.

"I'd love to, Eddie," you replied sincerely, a smile spreading across your face. "I'd really like that."

Relief washed over Eddie's features, followed by a shy smile. "Great. How about we plan something for next weekend?"

You nodded eagerly. "That sounds perfect."

You realized it was late and got up to leave, at the door, Eddie's nervousness melted away as he leaned in slightly, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek. It was brief but filled with unspoken warmth and the promise of more to come. You smiled softly at him, feeling a rush of happiness as you realized this was the beginning of something special between you.

"Goodnight, Sunshine," Eddie murmured, his voice tinged with affection.

"Goodnight, Eddie," you replied softly, your heart fluttering with anticipation for the days ahead.

It was a perfect end to a memorable evening, and you couldn't wait to see what the future held for all three of you.

Taglist: @birdysaturne @ali-r3n @maedesculpaeusoubi @borhapparker @peachysink @jadeylovesmarvelxo @marvelcasey05 @micheledawn1975 @kissmyacid @bells-28 @gagasbee @mykuup @happilyeverafterforme @missingbillyhargrove

[gutterfuuck]

“ROI—“

more bff!mark for my baby girls out there, i am watching and lurking when you least expect. the title is based on a song! it is the instrumental for roi. i do not have a specific reason, i just heard it while i was writing and hadn’t a title ready. i saw the phrase “sandbox love never dies” on another work, credit is due there for that!

cw: mdni!, dubcon-ish(? not sure how to describe, haha), smut, mark is pining hard for reader, possibly hint of yandere, this one is kind of long, bff!mark, piv, childhood friends to lovers trope, mark is a little delulu if u squint, virgin!mark (implied), semi-dark content please be aware, reader and mark are in college, reader knows that mark is invincible but that isn’t really important to the story.

mark knew this bedroom all too well. how couldn’t he? you both basically grew up in there together. you were always over at his house, he was always over at yours. inseparable ever since the day he had moved in across from you, sandbox love never dies.

his eyes landed on the fairy lights that were stapled to the wall to keep them in place… he had done that, years ago. he couldn’t bare to see the look of disappointment on your face when you realised that they hadn’t come with a sticky back so you could have them up on your wall. he still remembered the way your eyes lit up when he returned to your home with a stapler in hand, being careful not to staple through the wire. mark’s heart fluttered when he saw your little collection of cereal box figurines; also his doing. he couldn’t believe that you had held onto his gifts for so long, let alone display them proudly as if they were medals. to you, they might as well as be.

“you okay?” you asked, snapping him out of whatever dreamy trance he was in. he snapped his head around back to the tv, the ending credits of the zombie movie rolling on the screen. you had noticed how he had been staring into space for the last half hour of your movie, “me? yeah- i’m good, just thinking about something.” he smiled, quickly rummaging around on the floor to pick up the last of the movie cases, your marathon nearing its end. you were both back in town for the weekend, college kicking you both down and your dorm rooms not homey enough for it to feel right, so you had decided to drop in for a couple of days, killing two birds with one stone and seeing both mark’s parents and yours in one trip. your parents would be coming back later, that’s when the barbecue would come out.

mark switched the disk for the unwatched one, the movie menu popping up shortly after with a blood splatter animation on the title screen, “no don’t play it yet! we gotta refill here.” you spoke, pointing down at the almost empty bowl of chips, save for a few crumbs at the bottom. you had even ran out of cookies, remembering how mark had said that they should stop calling them family size if they were only able to feed two people in the span of an hour or two. you retorted with something about how usually people had self control; you weren’t supposed to scoff down three packs of family value cookies. ever.

“you gonna leave me here, all on my own? out in the open like this? i’m a sitting duck out here.” he joked, a satisfied warmth washing over him as soon as you had laughed. he loved your laugh, always. for as long as he could remember, “like anyone would come attack my house while you’re here, mark.” you rolled your eyes, his heart skipped a beat. he knew how much you relied on him to keep you safe sometimes. already knew that you’d know who to call if you were ever in any danger. he fed on it. you picked up the empty bowls, stacking them inside one another and opening your bedroom door.

“d’you want anything from downstairs?” you asked, holding an empty bottle of pop under your arm, hands preoccupied. mark shook his head, getting up to open your door wider for you, “i think i’ll just stick to eating all of this junk you keep throwing at me.” mark smiled, you smiled. mark’s heart ached.

“don’t you dare press play on that movie, mark grayson!” you yelled from downstairs, just missing the way mark’s cheeks dusted pink at the sound of his name on your tongue. you sounded like an angel. mark’s attention turned to your dresser, the top drawer full of your underwear. how did he know? well, he was the reason for your declining pairs of underwear, the source of the disappearing panties act that you had just brushed off as being forgetful or losing them somehow. he got up, face turning beet red as he stepped towards the drawer, fingers shakily reaching for the handle, slowly, slowly-

“are you going through my stuff?” shit. shit.

you had caught him, after all this time you had caught him. his mind raced for an excuse, his heart threatened to give up on him and he hoped that he would just have a heart attack already, quickly, he had to say something. anything, anything- “i’m kidding! if you’re looking for the remote, you already left it on the bed, silly!”

thank god. thank god.

“right, y-yeah! ha, i must’ve- forgotten..” he laughed nervously, heart still racing in his chest. all he could do was try to steady himself, calm his shaking hands and retreat back to his original seat, on your bed, next to you. he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, couldn’t stop thinking about how he could’ve had you right there if you had actually caught him, couldn’t stop thinking about holding your hands above your head and covering your mouth with his palm, ‘please let me, you don’t understand- just the tip and i’ll be done i swear.. just let me make you take me.’— he was daydreaming again, it was all your fault. he wanted you so badly, so desperately, why couldn’t you see it? why couldn’t you see him?

mark stared blankly at the tv screen with his jaw clenched, looking right through the screen. if he hadn’t had seen this movie dozens of times before with william, he would’ve been missing it. it was as if he was sleeping while sitting up with his eyes open, idle and dormant…

he heard you scream, his body shifting to shield you on instinct, breaking him out of whatever trance he had put himself in. you had thrown your arms over him, eyes squeezed shut. he was ready to fight, but fizzled down when he realised that you had only jumped into his arms for safety because of a jumpscare. a jumpscare. you were pressed up against him, you had almost jumped into his lap. it was like you were doing it on purpose, torturing him just because you could. you clung to him tighter, eyes glued to the screen in fear and anticipation for the next bloody scene…

fuck. he could feel his cock twitching in his jeans, straining against his boxers. leaking, weeping for you, his best friend. he was frozen, his eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip pulled into his mouth with his teeth so hard that he thought he would make himself bleed- bleed for you-because you were clinging onto him like you needed him. he needed you. he couldn’t help it anymore. it was now or never, here or nowhere.

“m’sorry-“ he said quietly and you turned to him, eyes staring up into his. that sent him over the edge. before you could ask him what he was apologising for, you were on your back, mark leaning over your body, a hungriness in his deep brown orbs. you had forgotten how fast he was, his powers completely slipping your mind. that was just it, you never cared. you always stuck with him, even after he had told you about his father’s secret roots all those years ago after he had just found out. he couldn’t wait to tell you, he always knew that you’d still see him the same, believe his words even if he lied-

“y/n, please- just let me talk, please just hear me out..!” he sounded different, shaky, almost scared to speak to you as if you were the one with superpowers holding him down. you weren’t scared, of course you weren’t. you looked into his eyes, concern washing over you as you watched your best friend open and close his mouth again, trying to find his words, “i.. i don’t- look, i…” more silence followed, tears brimmed in the corners of mark’s eyes and landed on your face, his gaze refusing to meet yours once again. you wanted to wipe his eyes, get to the bottom of why he was so upset… oh. oh. that was it, huh?

“mark-“ you interrupted, propping yourself up on your elbows to get closer to his face, closer so you could wipe his eyes-

mark panicked, he wasn’t ready for your rejection. wasn’t ready to hear you tell him that you had a boyfriend or that you couldn’t, didn’t want to hear you tell him that he was just like a brother to you, you couldn’t like him back because you were only best friends. he leaned forward, hands on your cheeks, lips crashing against your own. “mmf-!” you tried to move, his grip only tightening the more you tried to pull away, your hands on his wrists tightly. so this was how it was going to have to go, right? he’d dreamed of this for so long, it was so perfect. you were perfect.

“mark-!” you finally yelled, pushing him away by his shoulders. he could feel a dark pit starting to form inside of his stomach, regret washing over him, wishing that the pit would open up enough to swallow him too… “let me just breathe for a second..!” you huffed, locking eyes with him. your eyes never left his, mark’s eyes would try to flicker away from yours.

to him, it was a miracle. to you, it was a confession. it was years and years of bottled up feelings drowning you both all at once, it was confirmation.

you didn’t hesitate, hands snaking into his hair and pulling him back into a sweet kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist as he gasped shakily, a sweet nervousness behind his reciprocation. fireworks shot off in his brain, opening his mouth slowly only to be met with the intrusion of your tongue first, licking up against his as you held him tighter, pulling him closer, devouring him whole. god, you were going to kill him. are you going to kill him? give him a heart attack right here, right now? he thought so, hands aimlessly wondering under your shirt with his hips bucking into you with a groan rumbling from his throat, you whining back when his thumbs brushed against your nipples, your hips rocking against his. “w-wan’ you so b-bad-“ he spoke in between kisses, desperately trying to shove his tongue back down your throat straight after. you moved your hands to the hem of your skirt, shuffling out of it and kicking it off the end of your foot and onto the floor. this was hot, hungry. your hands pulled at his sweater, attempting to pull it over his head. he paused, sad to leave your lips once more, to take off his sweater and discard it into a random corner. “y/n, wanna- can i.. please- just the t-tip, only wanna feel it..- please let me, i’ll be quick, p-promise-“ you shut him up with a deep kiss, arms wrapped around his neck, “..i want all of it, mark. i can take you.” and mark almost cums in his jeans right there, nodding lazily and sliding his hand between your bodies to fiddle with the button and fly of his jeans, mentally congratulating himself for not just messily tugging them past his hips. he wasn’t alone with your panties jerking off next to you in your bed while you slept anymore- no- he had time. he could take it slow.

you couldn’t help but moan when you caught sight of his cock, heavy and thick and leaking between his legs, aching for you. who would’ve guessed? your best friend was packing. mark rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him so you were straddling his waist, hands pressed on chest. to him, all you had ever done was look down on him, even if you had never intended so. for once, you really were looking down on him, but he was in control. he wanted to be in control, he should have been in control. and with that, the position shifted once more.

mark’s thumbs separated your gooey folds after pulling your panties to the side, he recognised that pair, he had planned on taking them one night. a pair of red lace panties, simple but permanent in his brain. he knew your cunt all too well, the nights where you would need help to stumble back to your dorm drunk when he would tower over your clothed body, flipping up your dress and lick your cunt until he busted against your bedsheets, he could always dismiss it as a yoghurt stain or something if you had ever asked.

mark grabbed you by the thighs, pulling you closer so your cunt was in perfect line of his fat dick, swiping the head up your slit and shivering when you moaned quietly because of the contact to your clit. this was so surreal, he was living in a dream and he never wanted to wake up. you both hissed when he caught his tip on your hole, eyes meeting once more before he let himself go, hands gripping your hips as he pressed into his your warm, wet pussy. you were going to take all of him. “fuuck..! mnh-“ you almost screamed, trying to adjust to his length. mark didn’t care. neither did you. his cock bullied its way into your tight walls, mark whispered small apologies into your ear as you whined at him, slowly gyrating your hips to try and almost run from the stretch, to give yourself a minute to adjust again, “don’t do that- you don’t have to do anything-“ he started, his warm breath fanning over your neck which caused goosebumps on your skin, “you don’t have to do anything other than lay here.. stay still n’ take my cock.” his words made you tremble, you tried to protest, his mouth blocking your words with a kiss, his dick pressing right up against your cervix with a harsh thrust of his hips, gummy gooey walls clenching down on him, a low “ohhh, ohh f-fu..ck-!” rumbling against your lips.

one thrust and he was immediately pussydrunk, your mouth hanging open and tongue poking out when he drew his hips back, slamming them back into you with uneven, inexperienced movements. he fucked like a rabid dog, his nails digging into your skin as he babbled above you,

“d-do you feel full? can’t push any deeper..” followed by a pressure on your stomach, his hand pressing down so he could feel himself thrusting through your body,

“ghnn..- y/n you feel so much b-better than my fleshlight-!” did he even know what he was saying? your walls tightened around him, the wind being knocked out of your lungs again when he pressed harder, lips working against yours, his vision blanking and ears ringing when you didn’t stop tightening and loosening on him, mushy cunt trying to milk him dry.

you couldn’t do anything but moan breathlessly, pushing the hair falling into his face back, his jaw clenched and forehead sweaty, pressing his head against yours. this was it, this was everything his life had been building up to until now. he thought that maybe he had subconsciously made you fall for him, all of the times he had touched you secretly conditioning your brain. he doubted it, but the idea of him and him only reworking your mind to love him made him keen. “yeah, tha’s right.. take it, c’monnn..” he babbled, his eyelashes wet with tears, not knowing or caring whether they were happy tears or the result of his pleasure. you were right on the edge, your moans getting louder and shorter, scrambling to let mark, your best friend, know that you were going to spray all over his pelvis. you’d squirted before but this felt.. different. warmer, hotter. “c-c-!..” you struggled, eyes crossing and back bowing off of the bed, “fffuck-! ghfuckk yeah..- y-you’re cummin-“ he held your hand, hips stuttering when he felt your tight pussy starting to flutter, the tight coil in your stomach finally snapping;

warmth flooded your insides, legs twitching when you gushed all over yourself and mark. if you weren’t planning on changing your sheets after this, you definitely had to now. white ropes were out of mark’s cockhead riiiight against your cervix, breeding your cunt as if he had no control over himself, which he didn’t. you both panted, trying to balance your breathing. you felt his hips pull back, cock pulling out and opening the floodgates for thick globs of cum to pour out of you, your best friend rolling onto his back and covering his eyes with his forearm, mouth open as he breathed. he was in a daze, completely out of it, both of your liquids stuck to mark’s flaccid dick.

“did you get it out of your system yet?” your voice always bought him back. it was always you, it had always been you. “i… really want to be with you. i wanted- i want you, y/n.” mark spoke sternly, finally being able to complete his sentence from earlier. “i think i could gather that.” you retorted with a laugh. your laugh, his favourite.

you locked eyes, dark murky brown pools staring directly into yours. his pinkie finger hooked around yours, laughter bubbling from both of you. the fairy lights shined in his peripheral vision. the movie’s credits rolled on the screen, the whole movie falling on deaf, horny ears.

it was quiet, the only sounds being of yours and mark’s breathing. this was nice, blissful. peaceful.

“i love you, mark grayson.”

[storiesfromafan]

I'm Sorry Baby - Benny x Reader

A/N: I am back! And with Part 4 of my Spitfire series. This one was fun to write...as I am throwing myself into a bit of smut 😅

Also, want to thank @strayrockette for reading and advising on my attempt at smut 😂 I appricate her opinion.

Warning: my attemtp at smut after 10+ years, which even then might not have been good. So please, go easy on me 😅 also, might be grammer and spelling mistakes.

Tag list: tagging those that previously comment, in case you were looking forward to the next part haha.

@redwitchbitch1 @bellesdreamyprofile @cherryaustin

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

A few days after his return, and you pretty much throwing him out, Benny had been staying in a motel. He had been thinking everything over, trying to work out how to get back in your good graces. So, here he was at the bar, currently sitting with Johnny. With a short glass in hand, half full of amber liquid, Benny's poison of choice. He was having a talk with the one person he could talk too. One married man to another.

“What did ya expect, kid? Her to welcome ya back with open arms?” Johnny chuckled taking a sip from his glass.

“Nuh...but I didn’t think I’d get the door shut in my face” Benny sighed.

Johnny softly laughed. “She’s hurtin’. If ya could have heard her” – a look of guilt crossed Benny’s face – “Well, ya get what I mean...”

Benny nodded, taking a sip from his glass, eyes looking off into a void.

“Look kid” Johnny began, sitting up and leaning in, “woman are tricky. Wives are trickier. In a relationship there is two of ya. Not just you, or her. The two of ya. Yeah, she told ya to leave. But it was you who made that choice”.

Again, Benny nodded his head.

“But I’m not sayin' it’s your fault. It’s both of ya's fault in some way. Why hadn’t you been goin’ home at a decent hour?”

Benny shrugged. “Dunno, I’ve always been here, I guess...”

“You guess?” Questioned the Vandal leader. “You’re crazy about the spitfire, yeah?”

“Yeah” was all Benny said.

“Then you should have been goin' home to her. The club will still be here the next day. The knuckleheads will still be knuckleheads. But your woman, she ain’t somethin’ to take for granted” Johnny pointed his finger at Benny as he said that.

And he knew Johnny was right. Benny was crazy for you, had been since he saw you. He was crazy for your sass and attitude, for your fire. But also your caring and warmness to him. You were something special, something he had taken for granted. Benny was determined to get you back, one way or another. He would fight for you, fight for your relationship.

“What do I have to do to get her back?” Benny asked the older Vandal.

“I’d say get on ya knees and grovel” Johnny downed the last of his drink. “A woman with her spirit, she ain’t gonna just roll over. Your gonna have to show her what she means to ya. Or pray for a miracle”.

Getting up, Johnny patted Benny on the back laughing. He knew his younger Vandal was in for a fun time. But he wished him luck, and hoped it all worked out. Benny stared at the last of the liquid in his glass, before downing it and placing the glass on the table. Now he had to think of what he could do to win you back.

Finally it was closing time at the salon. Your feet were aching, and you had a small headache from listening to client after client either gossip or complain about life. You loved your job, but women could be so catty. And then there was Benny, and his reappearance a couple days ago. How it weighed on your mind and heart.

Betty had called you last night to let you know where he’d been staying, and how he was going. Apparently she’d seen him that day and he didn’t seem himself, lost in his thoughts. And that he hadn’t gone to the bar for long. She thinks he was riding most of the night, or back in his motel room. She believes he was thinking of you, and your relationship. You thanked her for the information before ending the call.

Part of you felt guilty, and missed him like crazy. But that fire in you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, for him to realise what he did and learn a lesson. You helped the owner clean up while she handled the till and books. You both conversed on the day in the shop, laughing at bits of gossip you’d both learned about other clients.

“So, how are you doing?” Sophia – salon owner – asked peering over at you, as you swept.

“Yeah, I’m alright” you replied off handedly.

Sophia nodded. “I heard Benny’s back, I take it he came home?”

You nodded. “Yeah...but I didn’t let him back in. I need my space”.

With that you collected the hair and moved to the back, where you’d dispose of it. The conversation done with, for now. Sophia wasn’t blind. She’d see how the week without your husband effected you. And how closed in and shut off you’d been. But Sophia also saw how happy you’d been when you got with Benny. Compared to your ex, this relationship was much better and you were the happiest she’d seen you.

With all the end of day chores done, you and Sophia headed out the front door. You were the last, closing the door and locking it for your boss. She always struggled to get the lock secure, so you just do it, since it seemed to like you. Sometimes you’d even be the one to lock up, and gave Sophia an early mark.

“Well, that’s a sight for sore eyes” Sophia said softly.

You’d just secured the lock, before turning to the woman, that was looking to across the road. Following her gaze you were greeted to the sight of your husband, who was leant against his parked bike. It reminded you of when he’d pick you up after work, seeing him after you’d finish work. How he'd light up when seeing you coming towards him, and how you’d greet him with a sweet kiss. But now you weren’t sure what to do.

“Are you gonna go to him?” Sophia questioned, turning back to you.

You shook your head before heading to your car, Sophia followed, as her car was next to you. Once coming to the cars she stopped you, she gave you a soft, small smile.

“Look Hun, can I give you some advice?” – You nodded for her to go – “there will always be fights in a relationship. But I know how much that man means to you, and no doubt it’s the same for him. So, don’t let this fight stop you from being with him, alright?”

You let her words sink in before slowly nodding your head. “I’ll try not to Sophia...but right now, I need some time...”

She nodded. “I know, but don’t take too long. He’s too good looking to stay away from” she teased with a wink, which made you softly laugh.

You hadn’t laughed in a little while at a teasing remark about Benny. Maybe you were already beginning to get over it. But you would give it a little more time till you were completely ready to have Benny back in your house and your bed. With a see you tomorrow, you both got in your cars and left. Briefly you looked to Benny as you drove out of the car park, and headed home.

Benny had watched the whole time you left the salon, to getting to your car. He could see how you and your boss talked, and saw how the woman had looked to him first. And when you looked to him, he felt his breath catch in his chest. You didn’t look mad or upset, it was more a blank stare at him. And he understood you still needed time. But he would make sure to be close by, keeping an eye on you and looking out for you, ready for whenever you needed him. It was one way to show you he was there, and not going anywhere from now on.

The little things will show how I care, he told himself.

Benny watched you drive off, not moving to go after you, not yet anyways. Taking out a cigarette, he placed it between his lips before lighting it up. Taking a long drag, he removed the cigarette before releasing the smoke. Benny smoked the cigarette but didn’t enjoy it as much as he usually would, it was just a way to distract himself and fill time. It was you that he was craving more then the cigarette. Craved your attention, your smile, your lips, your warmth. He craved you wholly.

The following day you arrived at work just before nine, you knocked on the door and Sophia let you. With a morning to each other, you put away your bag and got ready for your day to begin. It was going to be a relative busy day, which you didn’t mind. It was yourself, Sophia and another woman named Ella. Between the three of you, you could get a good amount done.

When your first client showed up, an older woman who was a bit of a stick in the mud, you wasted no time in getting her set up in your chair. Draping the cape over her, you made pleasantries. Though you know she did not like you, just your work. She was a stuck up woman, who you knew talked about you behind your back. But you did your best work, that way she couldn't run you down on it.

It was just after ten, the salon bustling with activity, when a delivery man came into the shop, in his hand a lovely bunch of flowers. He stepped into the shop, a little shyly. You watched him in the mirror before you, thinking those flowers had to be from Sophia's husband for her.

Sophia spoke to the young man, taking the flowers before thanking him. He didn't waste time to leave the shop and move on to his next delivery. One of the clients, being nosey, asked Sophia if they were hers. She was looking at the beautiful flowers before spotting a card. A look of surprise crossed her face, before a small smile crossed her lips.

“Mrs Carpenter, I wish they were, but they're not for me" mused Sophia.

All the women in the shop looked to Sophia, then around at each other. All wondering which of them they were for. Some probably hoped their husbands had sent them flowers on a whim, to surprise and cheer them up as they got their hair done. But they’d be wrong.

With the flowers in hand Sophia stepped around from the counter. She moved across the room and came to stand beside you. She was smiling at you as she looked at you in the mirror. They were for you. You should have guessed from the various flowers that you liked, making up the arrangement.

“Seems these are yours Hun" commented Sophia, holding out the flowers for you. “Why don't you go put them in some water out the back. And read the card. I'll take over for you while you're gone".

Reluctantly you finished cutting the piece of hair you held in your fingers. “Ah, sure...” you replied, unsure and uneasy.

Taking the flowers from your boss, you slowly moved from the floor and into the back. All the time questioning who would have sent you flowers? You didn't wait, taking the card from the flowers and laying them on the counter by the sink. You held the small envelop in your hand, reading your name before turning it over. You took a moment, looking at it once more before shakily opening the seal.

Slowly you removed the card, and taking a breath before finally reading what it said:

Flower's for my girl, my wife.

I hope they brighten your day,

Just like you will always brighten mine.

Love Benny.

Your heart skipped a beat reading his words. Words that he couldn't always say. Word's he knew you needed to read. For Benny knew how your days at the salon could be. He had seen how you come home, tired and drained. How you would have good days and bad days. He would listen to you tell him about the bitchiest women, who were the worst to deal with. But also how joyous you were when you had a day of nothing but sweet, lovely women.

Benny sent you a reminder that you were the brightest thing in his life, just as he was yours. You smiled softly, clutching the card delicately in your hand. Your chest aching with thoughts of your husband, and missing him. Maybe it was time to start working on getting your relationship back on track. Yes, this was the start. But you would make sure that man knew he had some serious work to do if he wanted you back completely.

Fixing up the flowers in a make shift vase. You walked back onto the salon shop floor, silence rolling in when you came back. All eyes watching you as you placed the flowers on the front counter. They noticed the sparkle in your eyes, along with a small smile on your lips.

“Take it the contents of that card were good, huh?” Teased Sophia, various women giggling.

You rolled your eyes. “If you must know, it was...”

Sophia smiled brightly and giggled. “Guess he made a good peace offering".

“It's a start" you retorted before taking back over working on your client, leaving Sophia to go off to do what she had to do.

Locking up on your own tonight, you noticed no Benny waiting across the road today. Which surprised you. None the less you got into your car and drove home, the radio on softly and you hummed along. Your flowers were sitting on the seat next to you, every time you looked at them you would smile softly. You wondered where Benny was. Was he at the bar? Would you have to go to him? Or could he have changed his mind?

Turning onto your street, you slowly came closer to your house. Your concerns and worries died away upon seeing the person on your mind. He had parked his bike across the road, again he was resting against it. As you pulled into the drive way, you could see him watching you, cigarette between his lips.

Benny had chosen to wait for you at your shared home. He knew to wait outside rather then just waltzing inside. He didn't want to upset you, especially after sending you flowers at work. It could have got either way, in his favour or made it worse. He hadn’t long lit a cigarette and taken a few drags, before your car turned onto the street. He watched as you approached, and turned into the drive way. But Benny never moved, he was going to see if you would invite him in, back into the house and into your arms.

Getting out of the driver seat, you leant back in and grabbed the flowers. Once you were out and the door closed, you looked to Benny. Still he lent against the bike, but he straightened up once seeing the flowers in your hand. Looking to them, you brought them closer to you. After that you walked up the few stairs to the porch – the same ones Benny climbed before you slammed the door in his face – and came to the front door. You used your keys to unlock the door and pushed it open.

Crossing the threshold, you paused a moment. Then you turned around to look at your husband. You kept your face blank, but there was a calmness to it. You looked at Benny for a few minutes before closing the door, but kept it propped open. It was a way to tell him that if he wanted, he could come in. You were calm and ready to talk.

You crossed the lounge room and entered the kitchen. Placing your bag on the counter by the door way, you moved over to the sink. You placed the flowers down before fetching a glass vase. You proceeded to put some water into it, then began to undo the wrapping to the flowers.

Mean while, Benny had watched your every move from car to front door. When you stood in the door way looking to him, he was silently hoping you would call out to him to come in. When you didn't, and began to close the door, Benny thought he would have to try again tomorrow. But when the door was left open a bit, he released the breath he had been holding. Hope bubbled in him.

Benny stood up from his position against the bike, stretching out his arms as he began to walk towards the house. Taking one last drag of the cigarette, Benny removed it from his lips and flicking it away. The smoke slipping from his lips as he walked up the path to the stairs. Up he went, boots landing on the porch. He stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath before pushing the front door open slowly.

You weren't in the lounge room, but he could hear you moving around the kitchen. He closed the door before taking off his jacket and hanging it up the door. Benny crossed the room to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway. He lent against the wood frame, watching you silently.

You had most of the flowers in the vase, you were just putting the remaining in and moving them around when you felt his eyes on you. It sent a shiver down your spine. Who would speak first? How would this all go?

When you had finished, you picked up the vase and moved to place it by the window on the counter. You would figure out where to put them later, for now you had to have a conversation with your husband.

“Do you like them?” Benny softly asked, when you placed them down and stared at them.

“Yes" you replied, “I like them a lot, actually...”

He nodded, though you couldn’t see it. “Good...I remember you sayin’ how you liked those kinds of flowers...”

It was awkward, but it was something, right? To know Benny remembered what flowers you liked, it showed he had been listening. And he did, majority of the time. Slowly you turned around, choosing to lean against the counter. For the first time in days you took a good hard look at Benny.

He looked tired, maybe he hadn’t been sleeping properly. His clothes – different to what you’d last seen him in – were deeply wrinkled, most likely worn when sleeping or trying to sleep. From the way he was leaning, you could tell Benny was uneasy. Not because of you, but for what could happen between you right now. He was guarded, yet trying to keep his defences down just enough so you in turn would let yours down. You could tell he didn't want to fight, he wanted to sort this out like adults. No more running, for either of you.

“...I’m sorry for leavin' baby" Benny said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have taken off like I did. Nor did I want to worry ya".

You nodded your head. “I know...”

“When I bring up leavin'...its somethin' in me that switches when a fight gets too much" Benny tried to explain. “I know its not an excuse, but I want ya to understand. But I promise I wont do it again...if I do, you can kick me out".

You chuckled. “Like I'd want you to go...” you said softly. “But Benny...you gotta know it did hurt. You just up and goin', no word of where ya were or if you were alright. I was worried sick".

Benny moved from the door frame to you, but stopped himself from pulling you to him, to hold you close and kiss away the hurt he caused. He looked at you with soft, guilty eyes. Waiting for you to give him the ok that he could touch you, hold you.

“I’m sorry for worryin' you, baby. If I could take it back, I would" Benny said softly, hands itching to rub up and down your arms.

“I know Benny...” your voice was soft, fragile. You looked at your husband with hurt eyes, only killing him more. You then looked to his hands and back to his baby blues. That was all Benny needed, for he stepped closer and pulled you to him.

Benny wrapped his arms around you, holding you closely to him for the first time in what felt like forever. Having you close felt right. You rested your head against his chest, your hands gripping his t-shirt. A few tears, that you hadn’t realised that had risen, escaped down your cheeks, they a mix of hurt but happiness.

“I’m sorry baby" Benny whispered into your hair.

You stood there for a few minutes, just letting Benny hold you and whisper sweet things into your ear. You felt better. You felt a part of you healing. Just like it was for Benny. Reluctantly Benny pulled back, moving to look at your face. Seeing the remints your tears left, he brought a hand up and whipped them away.

“Benny, you know we need to have a long talk, right?” You questioned softly, afraid he might get spooked.

He nodded. “I know, baby. I am ready for it...”

So, with a deep breath and standing where you were, not waiting to leave his space, you began. You told him how you'd been feeling, how him staying out effected you. That you wanted him to come home more, but not to take him away from the club. Benny heard you, he agreed to it. He told you how he adored that you respected his ties with the Vandals, and not trying to entirely change him, which made you laugh. Music to his ears after so long. Benny didn't ask much of you, as you had been perfect the whole time.

“I guess Johnny was right...” muttered Benny as he moved from you, as you crossed to the kitchen door way.

“Hmm?” you asked turning back to Benny.

“Johnny...I spoke to him the other day. I asked him what to do" Benny paused, gauging your reaction, with a nod he knew to go on. “He said I should grovel, or show ya what you mean to me...”

You held in a laugh at the suggestion of grovelling. “Is that why you sent flowers?”

He nodded, “but I meant them and what I wrote, baby. As well as watchin’ out for you, I wanted you to know I wasn't goin’ anywhere".

You smiled softly, moving to stand before your man. You cupped his cheek with one hand, thumb stroking his stubbled jaw. It was rough but soothing. You enjoyed feeling of it rubbing against your skin, be it your cheek, neck, inner thighs.

You moved your hand to back of Benny's head, gripping it firmly. You stared into his eyes. “I wouldn't mind you on your knees...but not necessarily grovellin’...”

You saw realisation flash in Benny's eyes when your words sunk in. Holding his head firmly, you pulled your husbands head down. Pulling his lips to meet your own, a firm closed lip kiss. The feeling of his lips against yours feeling like home. You closed your eyes, savouring your lips reuniting.

You moved to grip his hair, pulling a little. Causing Benny to groan in the most delightful way, which you had missed. His hands moved to your hips, pulling you close as he removed his lips for just a moment. Adjusting the angle, Benny brought his lips back to your waiting ones. This time it was a feverish, slightly open mouth kiss. Over and over, short and sweet. But soon Benny went in for a longer, deeper kiss.

He didn't wait for permission, his tongue delving into your mouth, seeking out your own. Tongues colliding, caressing the other in a fast paced dance. You moaned into his mouth, which only made Benny return with his own. Stepping forward, Benny backed you up against the small table in the kitchen. The edge digging into your backside. Without breaking the kiss, Benny picked you up and set you on the tables edge.

Your other hand moving to cradle is cheek, while its partner ran threw his hair before pulling it occasionally. That only spurred Benny on further. His hands moved to your slacks, unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper. Pulling away from the kiss, you both took a moment to get some much needed air. And in that time Benny silently instructed you to lift your hips. You did, and he removed both your slacks and underwear, leaving you sitting in bare from the waist down.

Benny wasted no time falling to his knees, as you both had mentioned. This kind of grovelling was not for forgiveness, but for your own pleasure. Benny would worship every part of you, if it would make you happy.

His rough hands moved up your calf muscles, slowly over your thighs, pushing them open wider. His eyes drinking in the sight before him, Benny placed kisses along the inside of your thighs before coming to his destination. Slowly – tongue flat – he licked at the opening of your sex. Tongue finding your hard nub, applying the right amount of pressure as he caressed it. You moaned, head tilting back, as one hand moved to Benny's hair.

Benny worshipped you with his tongue, bringing moans and praises from your lips. When he would change movements with his tongue, you would pull his hair lightly, encouraging him further. Then when he added a finger inside of you, and then a second after sometime, he had you a mess upon the table. Your free hand moved to clutch the edge of the table, trying to ground yourself. Your man knew how to worship at your alter.

“I-I need you, baby" you managed to get out, between moans.

Reluctantly, Benny moved his head back. His baby blues, now dark with desire, staring at you as he licked his lips, tongue taking in your essence that had been resting there. After a brief moment of watching you, he rose to his feet, standing between your legs. Without delay, your hands moved to Benny's jeans. Undoing the button before pulling down the zipper. You pushed his jeans and boxers down his hips.

When he was freed from its confines, you wrapped a hand around his member. Slowly moving your hand up and down the shaft. The way Benny's breath caught in his throat, before a small strangled noise came from his parted lips, such noises pleased you. He leant in and captured your lips once more, sloppily and mindlessly at your touch and ministrations.

“Baby, I want you" Benny sighed against your lips.

You hummed in approval. “I want you too".

You guided him to your sex, Benny's hands coming to hold your hips. His tip brushed against your nub, drawing out a moan. He was teasing, but you'd allow it. You brought your hands up to his neck, one resting there while its partner tangled with the hair at the base of his neck.

Finally lining himself entrance, Benny began to enter you. The way he felt, stretching you, you sighed as you gripped his hair. That action cause Benny to buck his hips, finally sheathing himself completely in you. You both moaned in satisfaction of being one again.

Benny moved in, taking your lips into a deep kiss. He drew back his hips before snapping back into you, over and over. At first a gentle pace, but with your hold on his hair and nails at his neck digging in, Benny picked up speed. Before long you were head tilted back, moaning, as your husband slammed into you. His lips upon your neck, sucking and biting, while he too made beautiful sounds.

With the rise in pleasure that Benny was giving you, and feeling, it had to come to an end. The tension rising and twisting in the pit of your stomach. You tightened around him, only adding to Benny's please, and making him move more vigorously.

“Cum for me, baby" Benny said with a groan, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. No doubt there’d be bruises later. “Ya gotta cum for me".

You nodded your head, whimpering at his words.

Benny placed his forehead to your own, his eyes staring deeply into yours. The pressure just building inside you both. Finally he hit that spot, and you tipped over the edge. You cried out, clenching tightly around his member, while you let your release wash over you. With a few more sloppy thrusts, Benny finally found his release. Buried within you, his seed coated your insides. His hands moving to the edge of the table, while catching his breath.

You opened your eyes, which had closed at some point, to look at your husband. He looked gorgeous, breathing heavily, trying to calm down after your vigorous activity. When his baby blues found yours, the smile that graced his perfect lips, melted your heart. You smiled right back at him. You both sharing a tender moment.

Those lips met with yours once more, but this time a chaste kiss. Pulling back, Benny reluctantly removed himself from you, which made you whimper at the lose. But with a promise that he'd gladly make it up to you later, you giggled with joy.

You watched as Benny pulled his boxers and jeans back up, fastening them before turning to you. He helped you down from the table, legs a little shaky from how well he had taken care of you. With some work and help, you had your own underwear and slacks back on. You kissed Benny's cheek to say thank you.

“Remind me to thank Johnny" you said off handily.

“Why's that baby?” Benny asked, confused.

You smirked. “For givin’ you the idea to grovel" was your reply before laughing.

Benny shook his head, pulling you close to him. “Oh”.

“And Benny" you said after a moment of silence. He waited for you to go on. “Next time you leave me, and hurt me, I will castrate you". Then you chuckled.

Benny softly laughed. “But what about kid's, baby. I'm gonna need them”.

Wrapped in his arms, you pondered Benny's words. “That is true...I will just take one then. You can give me kid's with just one, after all".

“Yes ma’am” Benny said in humour.

You both roared into laughter. Though you told him, as you laughed, you were serious. And it would be smart not to test you. Benny just continued to laugh before scooping you up over his shoulder, and carrying you off to your shared bedroom. Not without a small smack to your backside at you sassing him, as he walked up the stairs.

[wonwoosthetic]

Can you recommend joel miller series?

Hii, of course!😊

I’m sure some of them have been recommended many many times before but that’s just bc they’re actually THAT good, so here are the ones that I’ve read multiple times by now ˙ᵕ˙

You want feels? You want emotions? You want drama and love? Overprotective hot Joel Miller?Read this:

i know who you are by @punkshort

What about a good slow-burn playing in Jackson where you just can’t help but want more from Joel than just a one night stand but it will take time? Here you go:

a stranger’s heart without a home by @morning-star-joy

As if these weren’t already enough emotional, get ready for this two-parter that will absolutely WRECK you in the best way possible😭 I never knew hurt/no comfort could ever be so beautiful:

“You’re the loss of my life” by @stylesispunk (warning: I cried ever time I’ve read this and it’s been about like five times 😭😭) also: another INCREDIBLE writer, you can honestly just read through her entire masterlist, you will NOT regret it!!!!!👏🏼🫶🏼

THIS is THE hurt/comfort series! I absolutely love the structure of this story so much, I’ve read it like four times already haha😬 Joel is just so irresistible that even after 20 years, this man has the audacity to captivate you again. Get ready for a wild ride of emotions with this:

Woman by @dancingtotuyo

But these aren’t enough? You want even more angst? You want to see Joel truly REGRET things? This one’s for you:

invisible string by @toomanystoriessolittletime

Okay, we’ve cried and screamed enough, time for something a little bit more gentle. Something that will pull you in and just not let you go? With just a bit of angst but the wonderful rom-com vibes that we all love? With the perfect neighbour!Joel storyline? This is the one:

Nicest Things by @schnarfer

Now what about a perfectly outlined AU with a fresh start and leaving the past behind only to find a hot Joel Miller as a sheriff?? If you’re interested:

somewhere to run by @punkshort (a second mention, so honestly, you can read absolutely everything she wrote, she’s an absolute genius and I’m in AWE of her talent)

Okay, now this one has become a Joel Miller classic but how dare I not mention it. It’s complicated, it’s unsure, but literally both are in love with each other and it’s perfect earning and UGH just incredible:

texas sun by @from-the-clouds

What about sneaking around with hot Jackson!Joel who cares all too much about Ellie but is also just so enthralled by you? Too jealous to let anyone else touch you but too much of an idiot to put a label on it? Here we go:

But I Would Die For You In Secret by @wheresarizona (I have to put a quick extra note right here: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read everything by her!!!! Learning to Live (Javier Peña x Reader) is literally one of my all time favourite series across all of the fandoms I’m in and September is also just INSANE, the writing talent this woman has is out of this world!!!!)

What do we want? THE SWEETEST JOEL? Where can we find him? RIGHT HERE! Get ready for just the most comfortable fic you’ll probably ever find and just UGH the cutest fucking Joel Miller:

Elks by @whocaresstillthelouvre

Loner Joel that makes you feel less lonely after you find your place in Jackson? Ooooh, that sounds good, right? Well, this story was perfectly written and you can read all about it here:

Yearling by @justagalwhowrites (edit: I realised way too late that this incredible writer also writes Lavender, which I read through on AO3 and I seriously couldn’t put my phone down and talked to my bestie who doesn’t even know about tlou and got her to read it!)

OKAY NOW LISTEN. This writer right here is one of my all time faves and I’ve read this series too many times to count and I just can’t get enough of it. SO, a perfectly written relationship with Joel Miller that gets you through the day of the Outbreak, all through those 20 years and even during your adventure with Ellie. This right here. You NEED to read this:

A Future Together by @kteague (note: if you want the best Frankie Morales fic ever, read Because Of You, istg the amount of times I’ve read it is insane and I still go back to it and re-read bc I just- it’s just- I can’t even put it into words)

I think we need some humour. We’ve had hurt, we’ve had comfort, romance, but what about a good collection of one shots that you can laugh to? Who would’ve thought going through a pregnancy can look this fun? Well, with someone like Joel Miller by your side, of course:

Joel Dealing with his Preggo Wife by @pedge-page

Most of the stories above have some smut in them (some more, some less), BUT, I know you guys. And I know myself. And I know that sometimes all you need is a good hoey story (Yes, I may have just made that word up). What do you do when you have a shitty boyfriend who lives with his hot fucking hunk of a single dad? Exactly, you fuck the dad:

boyfriend’s dad!joel by @joelscruff

Buuuuuuuut, what if you want to be live in a bit more delulu world where you can be a hot singer with a hot bodyguard that has to try to keep his hands off of you as hard as possibly can but just snaps? Warning: Hot hot HOT! Hehe, well, then I think you might enjoy this:

Her Bodyguard, His Shining Star by @mermaidgirl30

I also have to add: there’s one series where you match with Joel on Bumble (I think… maybe it was Tinder…) where Ellie and Sarah created a profile for him and I remember reading and absolutely LOVING it, but I can’t find it😭😭 so, if anyone else knows what I’m talking about, pls let me know! In the meantime, I’m keeping a placeholder for it here:

single dad!Joel Miller with daughters that just want what’s best for him by a fucking genius writer

I hope there’s something on here for everyone to enjoy! ˙ᵕ˙

If anyone has more recs that they think deserve a mention, please let me know or just mention them in the comments!!☺️ There’s so many amazing authors, I just went down my likes and saw what I had saved and what I remembered really enjoying, but I know there’s a lot more!!🫶🏼🤍

[solselah]

✨SECRETS ?✨

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

PILE 1 : So someone wants to tell you

SO BAD that they are scared of intimacy & being Open !! For them it doesn’t matter WHO you are it has been a persistent issue for them in life. They are trying their best to hide this from you , you can tell they don’t want to sabotage the beginning of something Amazing! They are holding back communicating to you that this is an issue they deal with. They tend to run when things get a little hard & they are TRYING to hold that back from you! They just don’t want to have to move on because of it. Honestly your understanding would touch them in a way they never felt before , prompting them to at least try to be transparent!! They are afraid of the karma they will receive from keeping this from you !! You can always ask to have a conversation and see how that goes as far as I see , it can go pretty well & encourage healthy habits!!

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

PILE 2:

Awee this is so adorable !!!

You have a lover or crush who secretly is in love with you (Too?) but the love where it’s so Mushy so sweet & pure!! They speak to their guides & ancestors/God about you!! They explain to them that you take such good care of yourself & Your just the definition of love for them! They leave this a secret because they want the seduction to like never END ! It just spices the dynamic up 100% they secretly watch you , definitely does not seem weird more so like if you’re walking by they are checking you out! they are looking for sure! You’re what we would call a

“secret lover”✨

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

PILE 3: soooo …. I’m getting two scenarios one is that There is some one intending to do magic on you !! I’m getting their name starts with the following

(N,L,S,U,D,C) for this next scenario you could be practicing mirror magic or Doing beauty spells which currently help your self love journey out 100%!!

I’m also seeing someone could be jealous of the results of these spells … it seems to also be some form of mirror magic / Beauty magic they want to “Reverse” I truly hear that someone is jealous of your looks! You’re looking like a baddie always / your looking handsome always & they really just can’t take it! The energy I’m feeling from them is Very bored & Powerless! Like this attempt to Put magic on you … or attempt to reverse yours!

this persons magic WILL NOT dare leave the 3D haha ! Little do they know your ANGELS are on GO ! & you have this natural connection to KALI MA who has been fighting these battles alongside you those that you can’t see fully ! Don’t you even worry. This persons magic is so petite & kind of already Got blocked by their own guides 😬 that’s how you know it’s petty!!

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

PILE 4:

The secret being hidden from you is the change you’re about to go through !! I’m not permitted to say too much but I will say it will have everything to do with public scenery , Party scene , and entertainment!! You will be stepping out a zone you haven’t left since maybe high school or even middle school for some !! This will change your personality and character for the better !! People wont even recognize your maturity and new zeal for life !! I’m so excited for you to experience this change and enjoy it as much as you can !! Later in life things will slow down in the sweetest way! For those who have been apartment hunting and looking for a HOUSE , this is coming in sooner than you think!! Also quick reminder to Someone make sure you Update your important information

License , certificates , Paper work etc , you may have someone who wants to double check so I would even make some copies if possible! Its always Beneficial to be over prepared than to be unprepared in totality. :)

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

Hope you enjoy ✨

IG: @soleccentric

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 0

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there. Some dialogue's taken directly from the English version's prologue.

This world, it’s full of despair.

It comes in different forms, both big and small.

Even so, it wears down on the mind all the same, and can even take lives.

(I’ve been searching for a way to fight against it)

--

Ellis: Thanks for queueing with me, Roger.

This morning, Ellis had asked me out of the blue to go with with him to a cafe that looked like something out of a picture book as a “favor”.

In a space that was full of women, Ellis and I drew curious glances.

Roger: So, what the hell is that “thing” making people queue up so early in the morning?

The cafe recently went through some renovations and the first 30 customers would get some kind of gift.

Ellis: A tin of biscuits. It’s something Harry wanted but since he’s on a mission, I came in his place.

Roger: Haha, so that’s it. Then I’ll give him my share too ‘cause having two will make him “happier” than having one.

The man sitting in front of me’s been busy making people happy today.

Ellis: By the way, I had some business at the pub yesterday and a woman asked me where Roger was. I gave her some excuse because I know you don’t like dealing with that kind of trouble.

I’m someone that doesn’t believe in romantic love.

It’s something that’s not scientifically proven. If “romantic love” does exist in this world, then…

(It’s a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire)

Seems like Ellis knew me well.

Roger: You’re too good for Jude, you know. I’ll buy you drinks as thanks.

Ellis: Yippee. Ah, I think I’ll get something for Jude. I’m going to take a look around, okay?

Roger: Do what you want. Pick what would make Jude “happy”. 

As I watched Ellis make his way into the store with nimble steps—

(...Hm?)

I heard a voice cutting into this peaceful morning coming from the flower shop across the street

Flower shop owner: The delivery was delayed due to construction? Ha, how typical for a female postal workers.

I couldn’t see the face of the postwoman that was getting yelled at from here.

However, with my ears that let me pick up sounds 100 yards away, I could hear her heartbeat.

It was unsteady, probably because she was scared.

(“How typical for a female.” …What a bastard)

(If it escalates, I’ll step in—)

In the moment, her dignified voice rang out.

Kate: My sincerest apologies! I will be more careful in the future. For now, will you please accept this?

The man who was yelling is taken aback, likely feeling guilty after her apology.

Flower shop owner: Y-yeah… As long as you understand. Just be careful from now on.

I heard her let out a deep breath.

(So that postwoman’s someone that tries to be strong… Not bad)

Ellis: I’m back, Roger….Is something wrong?

Roger: No? Wow, you bought a lot?

Ellis: I wanted to get something for everyone. I’ll ask Victor to make tea and we can all have them together. Oh yeah, speaking of Victor…He said he has a mission for all of Crown.

Roger: Oh? Having us all together’s pretty rare. Could be an annoying one so let’s try not to get hurt.

--

Having said that, it ended without a single injury or incident.

—At least it was supposed to until an uninvited guest wandered in.

The woman standing there covered in blood, looking pale, was neither cursed nor a target. Just unlucky.

Jude: Tch…That’s why I toldja to lock the damn door!

Roger: Haha, well I didn’t think we’d have a trespasser! She’s a naughty lil’ thing, isn’t she?

My ears picked up an irregular heartbeat.

(...This sound. …No way)

—But that hunch soon came true.

The lil’ lady called Kate who stumbled upon Crown was presented to the palace’s grim reaper like a main dish.

(Now that she knows some classified info, she can’t leave without consequences)

(Worst case scenario, what waits for her is—)

Then, the lil’ lady in her hopeless situation spoke up with a dignified voice.

Kate: I swear I’ll never tell anyone about anything I just heard!

Victor: Hmm…Hm? What’s this?

Kate: I swear to protect your secret. I-I’m a letter carrier, and we’ve been trained to…maintain strict confidentiality!

Victor and William: …

Kate: If you think you can’t trust me, then go ahead and keep me under watch until you believe you can! I promise I’ll prove it.

A brave and logical proposal.

However, despite her demeanor, her heartbeat continued pounding in my ears.

The sound that didn’t match the attitude—it had me convinced.

(Ah…so she’s the postwoman from that time)

Her loud heartbeat gave away her true feelings.

(“Please don’t kill me”)

Among the anxiety was the strong desire to live and fight against despair.

(...Nice. This lil’ lady could be interesting)

I didn’t feel any sort of love or affection, but I felt this strange exhilaration in my heart.

So I thought—It'd be a shame to kill her.

(Come to think of it, at that time…)

I did “hear” her footsteps and heartbeat when she wandered in.

I could’ve made her avoid Crown.

(But I didn’t)

(Deep down, I was waiting for “something”...which is probably why I invited this heartbeat in)

I could imagine how angry this lil’ lady would be if she knew…

Victor: Well, well, what a good idea! I think we can actually make use of you. Accepted!

Kate: …Really?

Victor: Let’s see…All right, from today forward, you shall be Crown’s own personal…Fairytale Keeper!

Under the command of Victor, the Queen’s aide who controls Crown, enigmatic position of “Fairytale Keeper” was filled by Kate, saving her life.

Roger: Let’s try to get along this month, yeah?

Kate: Of course, Roger.

--

Ellis: Hey, Roger. Earlier, why did you look like you were having fun?

Roger: Earlier?

Ellis: When we were discussing whether or not to kill Kate.

(...This guy can really read people)

Roger: Well…I guess it’s ‘cause it’s been a while since I saw something interesting.

Ellis: Hehe, I see. Then… Would Kate being here overthrow your theory…and make you happier?

Basically he was asking if I’d fall in love with Kate and be happy.

Roger: Ellis, you’re aware of my curse…right?

Ellis: The double-crossing hunter from Snow White.

Roger: Right…The queen had ordered the hunter to bring her the heart of the detestable Snow White. But the hunter betrayed the queen by letting the girl go in the forest and instead, brought the queen a heart of an animal. After that, Snow White met a prince after her life was saved…And now here’s a question. Why do you think Snow White chose the prince instead of the hunter who saved her life?

Ellis: Huh?...I don’t know.

Roger: Because that’s just how it’s supposed to be. Because there’s supposed to be a happy ending.

Not to mention the fact that this is reality, not a fairy tale.

A man who doesn’t believe in love and a little robin who’ll leave after the month’s up—the relationship won’t develop into love or affection.

(...That’s what I think)

(But then why does my heart beat weirdly when I look at the lil’ lady?)

[moodyhaaze]

just me ranting about s*lmare again,,, sigh

it’s kind of getting on my nerves seeing people getting mad at others for pointing out s*lmare’s shitty behavior. like, i get that people may not want to see negativity about the games/devs but acting like people aren’t allowed to be negative is a whole different thing.

look. i’m not trying to be seen as the like “ultimate s*lmare hater™︎” or anything (or maybe i am), but i’m just going to compile a quick and nowhere near exhaustive list for everybody so they understand why i and so many other fans are still so mad. because quite frankly i’m sick of people crying on twitter that i’m “just being mean” when what i’m really doing is calling a spade a spade.

for an ENTIRE YEAR before nightbringer was released, devs never told anybody that a new game was coming out. everybody grinded for an ENTIRE YEAR because we were kept under the impression that a new season was coming to OG only to be told “haha we’re going to make you pretty much redo the whole story again (but in the past :O !!!) only after which you’ll get a conclusion for OG :)” [the end of lesson 80 of OG literally said coming soon until AFTER nightflop was announced.]

devs waited until a reddit ama to even tell us that a new game was coming, but only when asked by a fan who’s question subsequently got buried in all the other responses. the only reason anybody else saw it is because it was screenshotted and posted to twitter and in its own post on reddit. no official announcement was made prior. the first official announcement we got was like a week or two before nightflop was released.

they keep pushing out terrible quality events back to back just to milk money from fans even though the vast majority of fans have said they don’t like back to back events because the quality of them are horrendous. most players would rather have fewer events with better writing then to have constant shit ones.

never told us that daily chats were ending in OG. we only knew this was happening because someone sent a ticket to the devs and it was then screenshotted and posted to twitter.

s*lmare has proved time and time again that they only care about whales. they’ve proven this by paywalling a lot of features in Nightbringer. and before anyone drops in with “but they give us more devil points in battles >:(“ shut up. haven’t you noticed the increase in need to spend devil points? whether for character outfits, sprite outfits, level up sales (that they’ve made more frequent by making leveling up easier), ap sales, etc… they’ve only given you more DP so you’ll spend more DP.

they literally shoved an ad down our throats as many times as they could (in NB) by putting it on the HOME. SCREEN. as well as making it one of the first things you see when you boot up the app and in the side news thing. they didn’t do anything about it until fans complains relentlessly for WEEKS.

they took away the 10x free pulls for HDD 4 (which is OG’s birthday NOT Nightflop’s). they have always done the free pulls since the games inception. they did this so that fans are more likely to use they’re own vouchers or pay irl money for the cards they want.

they lowered nightmare drops EVEN LOWER to force players to draw more if they want certain cards (this goes back to putting players in a position to use irl money to buy devil points for nightmare summons if they want certain cards).

wanderers whereabouts and fabsnap are lazy and unnecessary and from what i understand, most people barely fool with it. the models are cheap and horrendous. (i get it’s a mobile game and the graphics are not going to be like PS5 level, but come on.)

they took away birthday events without an announcement. people were saving AP and demon vouchers for their favorite boys’ birthday events only to instead be given ONLY a birthday nightmare with a pity OF 200. they also stopped doing birthday events before asmo’s 2023 bday, leaving him as the only brother without a prince card. never mind the fact that they’ve paywalled birthday items in wanderer’s whereabouts for $3.99 (usd).

they changed some devil grams (in OG) to please a loud minority of players that didn’t like having to kiss the brothers in the devilgrams. in a game about dating and kissing demons. they pandered to a small (but quite loud) minority of players BITCHING that they didn’t want to kiss the brothers. in a game about dating demons.

they’ve infantilized the game and lowered the age rating (to 12+) to make it more accessible to younger audiences which has significantly lowered the quality of the writing. this is a game about demons !! they are not child friendly and they don’t need to be written as such. a game about dating and romancing demons is a kids game now.

i want to express very sincerely that i absolutely adore obey me. i have for the past four years. (you should see my collection of luci merch LOL). it’s the first franchise i have devoted myself to so strongly. i just really hate s*lmare and how they keep getting greedier while offering NOTHING to fans but lukewarm content and constant money pandering. this franchise means a lot to me, and i know that rings true for most of the players, and it hurts to see it going down the drain like this considering it is so special to me. i love this community (except when people are crying over misinterpreting criticisms against s*lmare/devs as personal attacks) and i love what everybody creates. it’s all so so very special to me and it’s important that we all understand this. these games and franchise could be something so very special. it started out so different (in a good way!) than almost all other otomes i’ve played, but now it’s getting left in the dust because a multimillion dollar company is more worried about how to milk an extra $3.99 from their fans than they are making quality content that fans would be WILLING to pay for, instead of locking content behind paywalls.

i wish nightbringer was never a thing. the story they wanted to make could have easily been a 1-2 season arc in OG. but instead we were forced to essentially play the same game over again, just in a different setting and time, and pretty much be told that the time we’ve spent grinding and leveling up our cards and getting through all the battles in OG was wasted. all for a new game that nickels and dimes players while offering shit in return.

solmare was proven that they have no intention of being transparent with fans. that they only want to milk whatever money they can from us. it’s created a lot of distrust and aversion in the community. and believe me, after all this, and even after obey me is run through and isn’t a cash cow for them anymore, i’ll never play another fucking solmare game ever again.

❤︎ it’ll always be ‘one master to rule them all.’