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imnotshua · 1 month ago

Text

joke me something awful - jww

٠࣪⭑ pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem reader ٠࣪⭑ summary: it's 2002 and you ask wonwoo to take you home. later, he wonders why you haven't been doing this the whole time. ٠࣪⭑ genre: childhood friends to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, college au ٠࣪⭑ rating: explicit. minors do not interact with me, i'll block you. ٠࣪⭑ warnings: swearing, drinking, undefined relationships. not really a situationship tho, it’s very much mutual pining. reader and wonwoo are just stupid regular people who say and do stupid things, it is intentional, please love them anyway. wonwoo is down bad i'm so sorry friends, he is just!!!!!! occasional use of pet names (baby & angel from wonwoo. darling/sweetheart from others), no use of y/n or other variations, porn with plot mostly, ambiguous ending (sorry my beloveds). wonwoo could do with some more confidence ig. a bitter ex (oc) is mentioned and important for the plot! mentions of previous hook ups between wonwoo and reader. toxicity from the ex, but i don’t particularly think reader and wonu are! they just :(((((( feel free to correct me tho. ٠࣪⭑ smut contents: gendered terms, kisses, fingering (pussy + mouths), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (it's 2002 college students were stupid then ok), dry humping lmao, cum eating, wonwoo on top, cum in pants, sloppy kinda, wet patches <3, soooo much hand holding, morning sex, neediness <333333, all in all they are quite soft and disgustingly into each other. if you think i've forgotten anything please let me know so i can fix my post! ٠࣪⭑ wc: 5.4k - complete ٠࣪⭑ a/n: i listened to fob's from under the cork tree on repeat for like 2 weeks straight and needed to do something with the feelings in my chest. this universe started in a different work that i'll post another time, this is the before. it is complete on its own, can be read without the others, but please note that future fics for this couple will be non-linear and feature different stages of their lives. the title comes from Fall Out Boys I've Got A Dark Alley–. Please consider listening to Air - Yeji, it's the feeling this couple gives me. ٠࣪⭑ thank yous: to my loves, @100vern and @starlightkyeom– thank you for putting up with my screaming over wonwoo, thank u for reading this over and telling me it wasn't gross. to jewel again, thank you for the banner. i appreciate u both so much. to everyone else, thank you for coming to my little corner, i hope you enjoy this one.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

2002

Wonwoo didn’t apply for the fellowship program, despite all your insistence that if you got in he’d be sure to, that he’s smarter than you’ll ever be. At the time he said it felt like too much work, but later he realised he couldn’t take the fear of rejection. This would’ve just been another failed start. Deep down he wondered if he’d even deserve it.

The celebratory dinner for new scholars is supposedly an elitist, snobby, and frankly, horrid affair so naturally you’re going. If only to foster those connections you’re making for your future career. Wonwoo turns his nose up but he agrees to be your date nonetheless. You don’t have to beg, just ask the question and say he wouldn’t embarrass you like the man you’ve been dating for four months, and that fills him with some strange sense of achievement.

Of course, once that guy hears you’re taking Wonwoo instead of him, he dumps you without ceremony. And now Wonwoo sits on your bed in a rented suit far too expensive for him to feel entirely comfortable in, watching your reflection choose which earrings to wear, and he wonders if you’re even bothered. He doesn’t know how to talk to you about this. Partners are off limits, usually, but since he had some involvement in the break up, in some roundabout way, he thinks maybe he should at least check. He wets his lips.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. “Since Hongseok?”

You meet his eyes in the mirror. “Fine,” you say. “I don’t think it was going anywhere. He wanted something more traditional. I started to get the impression he was setting up to cheat on me, actually.”

Wonwoo is unsurprised, sounds like you are too. “You’re better off without him,” he says, picking at bits of fluff from your blanket clinging to his trousers. It’s one his mother knitted for your sixteenth birthday. “You’ll meet someone new in no time.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” you start. “I think I’ll stay single for a while.”

Wonwoo lifts his eyebrows in surprise and you catch him in the mirror. With a laugh you say, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You’ve been a serial dater since we moved to this city and you’re stopping now?” Wonwoo’s lips twist into a grin. Teasing is easier than edging too close to real. “Just when you’ve hit your prime?”

You scoff. “Rude. I’ll hit my prime in my thirties. Just watch.”

Wonwoo watches as you apply your usual lipstick and thinks about the time you didn’t wear any. You were just kids but it didn’t seem so long ago. You’re almost the same. Eighteen years of your starkly different lives intertwined and somehow still as close as you ever were. Still the sharpest person he’s ever known, still the sweetest if only in private. Still his parents' favourite person, still his. (His stomach twists).

You’re giving yourself a final appraisal in the mirror before turning to Wonwoo and asking how you look.

“Good,” he says, with a nod. Breathtaking, really. “Pretty.”

“Thanks,” you say, smiling relieved, moving to sit next to him on the bed and linking his arm. “We scrub up well, don’t we?”

“Mm,” he agrees, following your gaze into the mirror, pinpricks creeping over his skin. You look like you’re together, he thinks, as he notices you’ve chosen earrings that go with his tie. Anyone could make that assumption.

“You look sad, Wonwoo,” you say, quiet and soft. “Are you sad?”

“No,” he says, throat tight and feeling like his back is pressed against the wall. “What would I have to be sad about?” He lets you slip your hand into his, lets you lean your head on his shoulder for a moment, because this is how you make him feel better. Because you know that he can’t be pushed to talk about things he hardly understands. Barely a minute goes by before he sucks in a breath and says, “Shall I call us a taxi?”

“Sure, number’s in the book next to the telephone,” you say. “Want a drink? I need one for this.”

“Water for me, someone’s got to get you home.”

“Aw, come on. Don’t make me drink alone.” You laugh when Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “I’ll be on my best behaviour, I promise. My reputation’s on the line.”

“One beer,” he offers. You pout and he can’t stop his smile.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It went like this:

Both of you had no less than three drinks before the taxi showed up.

Your peers kept thinking that he was your “elusive boyfriend” and upon correction that he was ‘just Wonwoo’ their eyes lit up and exclaimed “oh we’ve heard so much about you!”

The way he blushed made you want to kiss him silly (you had another drink instead).

Drink five? Four? Everyone here is obliterated, no one notices you and Wonwoo readying to leave.

He looks so pretty like this, tie undone, glasses slipping down his nose, pulling off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders, watching your lips as you talk.

The taxi you pre booked won’t be here for another ten minutes but the room was so stuffy (in both the literal and figurative sense) that as soon as you tell Wonwoo you need to get out of there, he’s nodding and pulling you out into the street. It’s so busy– of course, it’s OT week– that you struggle to find a spot where you won’t be bumped into for a while, eventually settling against the wall of the building opposite, in good view of the road. The noise around you is hectic, and you’re desperate for something less bothersome. Wonwoo looks drunk, looks fucked out. Cheeks flushed and lips parted. Eyes closed, he tips his head back against the brick and exposes the column of his throat. Pretty.

“Hey,” you say, slipping your arms around his waist. “Thanks for coming with me.”

Wonwoo hums. “Yeah, ‘course.” A pause– he wraps his arms around your shoulders. He’s so heavy but you like how it feels. “Anything for you.”

There’s a saccharine sweetness stirring in your stomach. You ask him to tell you the story of Baucis and Philemon again, press your body against his and hope he can still read you like he used to. It’s been years. Maybe he won’t want to.

“Why do you like that one so much?” he asks. You take in the smell of his soap. You know you shouldn’t want to go down this road again. “It’s hardly even a love story.”

“They’re the ultimate love story,” you insist, looking up at your friend to find him already watching you. “They’re precious to each other. I want that kind of love.”

It’s more than that. Baucis and Philemon have a timeless love. Their lightness oozes out of them, their love is both infectious and tender. So devoted they choose to die together. Never without the other even after they’re gone– turned to trees, and their branches and roots weave together so tightly that you can’t tell where either one of them starts and they stay like that, as relics of a lost ancient world.

There is something ancient about Wonwoo, too. For as long as you can remember he has been older than his years, telling stories of places long buried, of deities forgotten about. You think maybe he was meant for then and not now, the cusp of the twenty-first century. He keeps echoes within him. Carries heavy stones to turn over in his hands and spend time memorising the marks. He is deliberate in the way he moves, no ill-perceived rush, and Wonwoo’s silence carries more weight than his words.

So when his eyes flicker to your lips again, and he still doesn’t move, you know it’s on you. You know you’re going to have to be the one to shift the sands, change the direction of the tide. You’ve been lovers before. Neither of you have ever said never.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He’d been thinking about it all night but you were the one to press your lips against the corner of his mouth, eyes on his and holding the proximity. Are you thinking about it like he is? Is your heart thrumming in your chest like his?

“I can feel you thinking.”

“Uh huh.” His mouth goes dry. He can’t kiss you with a sandpaper tongue.

You run a finger between two buttons on his shirt, eyes up, watching his reaction. “Can I stay at your place tonight? Hansol’s at his parents' house this weekend, right?”

Wonwoo’s mind goes blank and he can feel the pink creep over his cheeks. “Did you squeeze your Pompompurin pyjamas in that little bag?”

Your lips twitch in an almost smile, lean in to ghost a kiss against his bottom lip. Wait to see if he pulls back– he doesn’t. His hands just slip down your back, touching the skin under the strap of your dress. Didn’t imagine when he helped you zip up earlier that he’d be the one invited to pull it off you. Has he hidden his desire so poorly? “Do you wanna fuck me in those pyjamas, Wonwoo?”

The street noise is drowned out when you kiss him properly, and it’s embarrassing the way he’s breathless, gripping at your waist and pulling your body closer. Humiliating that this is in full view of strangers, doesn’t want them to see how you lick into his mouth, doesn’t want them to hear your sharp gasp as his teeth drag over your bottom lip. He spins you on the spot, crowds you against the brick and blocks out the world with his shoulders. You pull on a button and slip your hand through the gap. The touch burns. Your kisses are suffocating, loves the way you smile into it, the way you make him chase your lips, run your fingers along the waistband of his trousers an– fuck– he’s gonna get hard in the middle of the street.

Desperate, he pulls off you and whips his head around to look for the taxi, you’re already complaining. “Not here–,” he says, words rasped, catching in his throat. He can see the taxi rounding the corner, and in a beat he’s pushing off the wall and dragging you toward it by the hand.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He doesn’t touch you in the taxi. Hopes you know it’s not because he didn’t want to, he just doesn’t want to lose himself. His fingers flex eager on the leather seats, wanting something he won’t take. As the driver fiddles with the radio, you lean over to lay your hand across his, to whisper in his ear, “do you still lick your fingers after you’ve made someone come on them?” Wonwoo doesn’t answer, but he can feel the way you watch him swallow– thick– and stare hard out the window at the passing lights. He never did that with anyone but you.

Now you’re paying for it. He’s more confident in the privacy of his bedroom, in the dark. Cages you in his bed, doesn’t bother to turn on the lights before smothering you with his body. Your mouth on his– wet, and eager, and bruising. His hands move to your face, in your hair, angling your head to give his lips access to the tender spot behind your ear. He’s got your dress bunched up around your waist. Takes up all the space between your legs, still too much fabric separating you. One of Wonwoo’s hands cast over the swell of your breast, his thumb tracing circles over your nipple through the thin fabric. You melt into the touch, rolling your hips against him, he sighs into your skin. “Can feel how hard you are,” you gasp, hands pulling at his hair. Makes his skin electric.

He moves faster, desperate, and you trap his body between your legs, angle your hips so his cock can rub against your clothed cunt just right. “Gonna ruin your trousers,” you whisper. Yeah yeah yeah, fuck it, he’ll pay for dry cleaning for once. The warmth, the wet, seeping through makes him insane. Needs it more than ever, needs you just like this, breath ragged and pupils blown. Needs you needing him so bad you can’t even get out of your clothes before you come. Needs you whining, needs you telling him how badly you want it. Won’t ask for anything, but you know what he likes. It’s always been easy with you.

“Feels good,” you say. Wonwoo nods into your neck, the pressure building so fast it’s blinding. Hips thrusting rough, rutting like an animal against your clit, desperate for you to get off before he falls apart but he’s so cl–”Missed you so much, Wonwoo.”

“Ah, fu- fuck–” You’re sucking a mark into his neck and Wonwoo can’t stop. Comes hard, breath catching and his rhythm is all fucked up, so fucking embarrased that he couldn’t draw this out. You’re talking him through it– sounds like heaven whispering how good he is, how good this feels, how you love how he sounds when he forgets himself. Didn’t realise he was groaning. A mess of a person reflected in the cum staining through the fabric of this horribly expensive rental.

Shit.

Needs to get out of this fucking suit. Needs to press his face into your cunt. Wants to ruin you for everyone else. Four years– you wasted four years with other people when you could’ve been doing this. Pushes away thoughts of you being someone else's not even a week ago. Some sick, possessive slice of him wants to reclaim you, mark you up and present you as his to the world. Wants to take the cum in his underwear and push it into your body. Look, see, she’s mine mine mine. Wonwoo’s chest aches.

Your clothes shed in silence. You lay him back against the pillows, kneeling next to him with spread legs, he loves when you let him see. You take one of his hands in yours and work circles into his palm as you pull two of his fingers into your mouth. Get them slick with spit, work your tongue over the tips of his fingers. He can hardly breathe watching you manoeuvre his hand down your body against your cunt, using him like a toy, until his remaining brain cells start to work and he takes over the movement. He’s half hard again already.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he rasps. Crooks his fingers and you whine. Wants to eat the sounds spilling from your lips. Needs to do something with his mouth so he doesn’t say something stupid. “Sit on my face?” he asks, obvious urgency in his voice.

“N-no, like this first,” you say, almost like you’re begging. “Missed your hands so much.”

You look at him through hazy eyes as he works you quickly to the edge, pulling whimpers from your throat every time he plays with your clit. Feels you get impossibly wet when he slips his fingers in deep and moans unashamed along with you. You buck into his palm, head tipping forward to watch his soaked long fingers fucking into you agonisingly slow. Your breath stutters in your throat as he uses his other hand to tease your skin, trailing gently over the meat of your thigh, your ribs, cupping your breast and then dragging you over him to take a nipple in his mouth. Flicks his wet tongue over until it pebbles between his teeth, and you gasp.

“M’close already,” you whisper. “Gonna come, Wonwoo.” He ruts his hard cock into the air, chasing heat that isn’t there. Fucking loser. You don’t even notice with the way he’s got your breaths coming in fragments. You come undone like lightning, cunt soaking and pulsing around his fingers, your body collapses on top of him, your forehead pressed into his chest. Wonwoo wants a taste but wants to work you through the aftershocks first. He teases slow circles over your clit until you fall apart with a sob, and have to drag his hand out from between your legs.

He waits until you sag to your side– catches sight of your cheeks, flushed and sweat sticking to your skin, your pupils blown out and breathing shallow, more beautiful than he’s ever seen you– before he brings his fingers to his mouth to taste you on them.

“You’re indecent,” you laugh in disbelief. He almost feels gross until you’re babbling about how hot he is. How he makes you insane. You laugh again when he rolls you onto your back and settles between your legs. It’s been so long he needs to do this right. Starts by pressing a gentle kiss to your clit, ghosts more over your centre, waits for the sound of your gentle sigh before laving a thick stripe over you. Knows just the way to make you molten. He laps at your core until you’re almost sobbing. You jolt whenever his nose slips over your clit, and you’re begging for him to stop the tease. He’ll never deny you what you want. His tongue flicks fast over your clit, his face wet with you now. His moans sound muffled against your cunt when his name falls from your lips in staccato breaths.

Things have hardly changed. Four years and now, it’s just the fucking same. Your fingers still find purchase in his hair the same way. Mouths at your inner thighs to give your cunt a break. Shit, you’re so hot. You’re clenching around fucking nothing. Pulls the skin between his teeth and you’re writhing, trying to get his tongue back where you need it. Love when you get desperate like this.

Your nails drag over the nape of his neck and he’s close to losing control– fucks his cock against the mattress and almost cries at the pressure. You grind against his face, Wonwoo knows you’re close. Blacks out as he eats you like he’s been starving, his face so slick with spit and you it drips down his chin to the sheets. Doesn’t dare stop to breathe as he feels your legs begin to shudder over his shoulders. He watches the way you look down at him, brows pinched pleasure, waits for your lips to fall apart with a broken sob before licking into you so deep. He can’t tell who comes first, can’t tell who the enormous wet patch on the mattress belongs to, doesn’t fucking care, just wants to keep you.

He moves over you when you’re done, pressing chaste kisses to the corner of your mouth, to your cheeks, to your temple, before you’re giggling and pulling his body next to yours.

“Shift over,” he says, tapping at your hip. “Don’t wanna sleep in the wet patch.”

“Did you come again?” you ask, moving to the side to give him space.

Wonwoo nods, cheeks instantly flushing with heat. But there’s no need for embarrassment because you’re sucking in a breath. Seriously, you say “You have no idea how much I like that.”

He doesn’t reply, just fits his body against yours and presses a kiss to your shoulder. Lets your words wash over him. Sleep comes for him quicker than he wants it, but not before he slides his hand into yours, not before telling you he missed you too.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Mascara stains Wonwoo’s pillowcase but right now he doesn’t care. It’s still too early, still dark outside, but this room is hot, his breath is hot, your leg thrown over his waist is hot, and he’s considering just how monumental this is. It’s been almost four years since you touched him like this. In school it started with a ‘one kiss won’t ruin us’ and ended just before university with a ‘are we still friends?’ Way back then you both swore blind that you could just go back to your regular scheduled programming and nothing had to change. An agreement that those brief months you had (not quite) together in high school were just two best friends helping each other out. A mutual understanding that the love you share is completely and utterly platonic, and platonic friends can totally kiss/touch/fuck for a few months without it ruining something more special than sex. Except he didn’t really mean it. The trouble was that Wonwoo knew even then that he wanted something all consuming. Felt it with you. Wasn’t sure if you wanted the same.

Wonwoo is absolutely not spiralling.

You’re still sound asleep (always are after nights like the last), and his arm is trapped. Back then he’d use this time to bask in you. With you wrapped up in him it was easy to feel like you were completely his. He used to feel like he could do anything to you, and you’d let him. You’d want it, even. Didn’t actually want to take you over but knowing that he could– the intensity of that scared him. Now that feeling doesn’t come, maybe because you’ve had the separation of time and different lovers, he doesn’t know really. He still doesn’t understand what happened before university. Doesn’t get why you stopped coming over when he was so close to unbottling the feelings in his chest. Just knows that the conversation took him by surprise even after a week of distance. Just knows how his chest ached even as he agreed that it’d be sensible to put it all to bed before leaving your sleepy town for the big city. Knows how his gut twisted sharp when you said that just because you were going together didn’t mean you should go together. Maybe he should’ve protested then, showed you how much he needed you. Impossibilities stretch out before him– if it went that way, last night wouldn’t have happened, he wouldn’t be tracing tiny figures of eight on the small of your back right now. If you’d been together then, young and stupid, would you have stood the test of time?

You stir, half roused, and Wonwoo swallows the lump in his throat, choosing to be grateful for the now. He pulls your waist closer, runs his hand under your thigh to gently adjust the weight. Your eyes are still closed but you make a soft sound of surprise.

“What time is it?” you ask, voice thick with sleep.

“Too early,” he whispers back. “Go back to sleep.”

“I was dreaming,” you murmur.

“What about?”

Your smile is lazy against his skin. “Can’t tell you,” you say. “You’d run away.”

Wonwoo thinks hard about this. “I don’t run away,” he says, quiet and serious.

You blink open soft eyes to look at him, and Wonwoo feels too much. “Your face is all frozen, Wonwoo,” you say, gentle. “Are you okay?”

“Kiss me. Wish me good morning.” Wonwoo’s voice comes out with more edge than he intends. Doesn’t sound like his own. Feels cheap, something sleazy. Feels tragically guilty about it until he sees the look on your face. Like you want to eat him.

Your gaze is dark when you lock eyes with him. Push up with your hands, straddling his hips, his cock against your rear. You take his hands, larger than yours, place them on your ribcage, push them down down down, making goosebumps pebble along in his wake, until he’s using his thumbs to spread you apart. A little wet already, leaves a slick mark on his skin. He sighs at the sight of it. Your breath comes harder when he plays with your clit. You lean over, say– “Good morning, Wonwoo.” Press a delicate kiss to his top lip. “You’re gonna come inside me this time, okay?”

Wonwoo isn’t religious, but he feels like angels made you for him. Tells you so, and you gasp against his mouth. The way you kiss him this time is anything but angelic. Wet. Messy. Sharp teeth leaving imprints on his lips. It hurts. Nice in a way it shouldn’t be. A relief– the way the hurt makes his mind stop. You roll your hips against him and he makes a desperate sort of noise. Keeps his eyes focused on his fingers drawing circles on your clit. Your hands reach behind you to stroke his hardening cock and he arches into your touch. “Needy,” you chastise. Wonwoo nods.

Doesn’t want it like this. Wants you under him, wants to fuck you slow. Tells you so, the words come anguished, almost– and you nod dumbly. You don’t drag out the build up. Lay on your back, open your legs for him, spread them wide and line his cock up with your wet heat so quick he doesn’t have time to overthink. He makes a strangled sound when he pushes inside. The slide is agonisingly slow. He’s being so careful, as if you’d crack like china - fragile beneath him. You clench around his cock, thick and scalding- God, it’s sweet torture. Wants more of it.

You pull, desperate, at his waist, rolling your hips against him but he’s pulling out. This time he just slides the head in, hisses, teases, and back out. He does it again, and again, doesn’t know who this teasing is for. He’s licking into your mouth, pressing hungry kisses on your open lips, eating up all your noises, your whines, your soft moans. Things are still the same. He likes going so so deep into you, bottoming out and grinding his skin against your clit, likes when your moan comes muffled in his open wet mouth. It’s the same. Likes when your hands find purchase in the sheets, fist them in desperation, likes when you feel it’s not enough so you grab at his, intertwine your fingers and let him fuck you like this. Like you’re in love. It’s still the same.

“How do you feel, angel?”

“Uh–” A pause to suck in a fractured breath.

“Tell me how you feel,” he says. Almost begging. Would be mortifying if he whispered that against anyone else’s cheek. Can feel the wetness there too.

“Homesick,” you gasp. “I feel homesick.”

He fucks you harder then, driving into you so deep he could be part of you. Melt in, blend together, blur the lines, weave the fucking branches. You’re full of spells, he thinks. Made of magic. Doesn’t realise until after that he’s said it aloud. Wet starshine eyes on his as you come apart, pussy pulsing around his cock, impossibly wet, telling him come with me baby, babbling nonsense about how you want it inside, how you need it so bad, how he makes you feel so good.

Wonwoo really looks at you before he comes. Takes a moment to commit your face to memory. Any time could be the last and he needs this– needs you– to stay with him. Doesn’t know if he’ll ever be the same.

“Like that, Wonwoo” you’re saying, all breathy and high-pitched as he spills into you with a choked whine. “Like when you–” Cum slips out around his cock and he gathers it up on his fingers. Pushes them into your mouth to stop you talking. Can’t bear it. Can’t bear the way your pupils blow out and you lick the cum from his fingers. Can’t stand how his name sounds in your mouth, sweeter, more precious, because there’s something like love coating it. God, he wants to be yours.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Wonwoo likes your apartment better. Likes the way your sheets start to smell like him too. You’ve always carved out space for him but this time it’s deeper. Likes showering with you here, not to fuck, just to wash away the mess you make of each other. Likes holding you in his arms under the stream, running the lather across your skin, loving kisses pressed against your forehead. Lately he stays here more often than he goes home.

You haven’t said the words yet, neither has he. Doesn’t want to push too much too soon.

It’s just after nine on Sunday morning, and you’re out of– well, pretty much everything. He offers to go but you insist he stays in bed, hair messed up, sheets pooling in his bare lap, glasses slipping down his nose while he rereads Kafka on the Shore. “Stay just like that,” you say it like a demand, but you’re smiling, pulling a scarf around your neck to run down the street to the shop, maybe stop at the deli for breakfast. “Back in a bit, don’t move an inch.”

A few minutes go by when the shrill of the telephone in the living room punctuates the silence. Wonwoo doesn’t get up to answer, it’d be improper, what if it was your mother? So he lets it ring through to answerphone, and when it clicks on it takes him a moment to recognise the voice calling your name.

“Are you there? Pick up, darling, pick up.” Wonwoo knows Hongseok has been trying to get back together with you. You’d mentioned it a few weeks ago, how he’d sent flowers. You don’t even like roses.

“I saw you by the river yesterday,” he says. Wonwoo looks up, stares at the wall. You’d insisted on getting out of the apartment, pulled your bodies from soft sheets and into soft sweaters, and Wonwoo only complained a little bit. In truth he loved walking with you. That he can hold your hand in public and no one bats an eye. Loves that you can be his here, that you claim him too. “You’re with him now? How long, darling? Does he fuck you like I do? ”

Wonwoo scoffs. Hongseok is just jealous. Wonwoo gets it. He does. Even if he’d never dream of saying it.

Hongseok’s voice turns nasty now. “Do you think he’ll stay this time? Does he know you’ve been in love with him this whole time? Everyone else knows. He won’t love you properly, you know. He’s just using you like last time, is he still keeping you a secret? You don’t deserve that, darling. You don’t deserve to be hidden–”

Is that what you thought? That he hid you? Bile swirls in Wonwoo’s stomach. Does he do that? Did he hurt you?

“–he’s just gonna fuck you up again and you’re gonna be miserable. But he won’t let you be happy with anyone, will he? Selfish fucking prick, he’s so cruel to you. You don’t see it, do you? It’s pathetic how fucking dumb you are for him–”

Wonwoo didn’t think he was cruel. There is spit pooling in his mouth, his stomach churns. Is he cruel to you?

The line clicks off as Hongseok spits out every name under the sun, but Wonwoo doesn’t hear the rest as he retches into your bathroom sink.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Forty minutes later, you’re calling out to Wonwoo that you’re home as you kick off your shoes. “I got us bagels, do you want the salmon cream cheese or the egg and ba- oh! You’re up.”

Wonwoo sits on your sofa in soft sweats and a baggy white t-shirt. His skin and hair are damp from the shower. The whites of his eyes are bloodshot. “You okay?” you ask, tentatively.

“Hmm,” he says. “Didn’t feel too good earlier.”

“Poor you,” you say. “Will breakfast make you feel better?”

“No, sorry,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically stiff. “I think I should head home. Don’t wanna give you a bug.”

You laugh softly, unpacking the groceries from the bags. “You spat in my mouth last night, if you’ve got something then I’ll have it in no time,” you say. “C’mon, stay. I’ll look after you. I’ll make soup.”

But Wonwoo is already standing, pulls a little money from his wallet and leaves it on the table. “What’s that for?”

“Breakfast,” he says. “Feel bad you bought all this and I need to go.”

You frown. “Stop being strange, I don’t care about the food, just get the next one.”

Wonwoo sighs. He’s annoyed, you realise. This is weird.

In the end you let him leave without drama, but not without a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it a little longer than usual. Closes his eyes as he hugs you goodbye.

You eat breakfast alone. TV on, sound off, wondering what the fuck even happened before you notice the light of your answerphone flickering.

New message, left 09:21:

Hi Sweetheart! It’s your aunt’s birthday next week, just calling to remind you to send a card. Call me back, okay, love you, bye!

End of messages.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

sorry about the ending there :( if it helps, it does get better for them. thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging so my fic can get seen outside my own little space <3 i love seeing your feedback. if you'd prefer to scream at me directly, feel free to send me a message <3 ily, goodnight!

694 notes · View notes

inseobts · 24 days ago

Note

hiiii!! i LOVE ur fics so mucchh and lowkey felt shy to dump my very vivid and detailed request lmao 🤣 i just thought of a random blurb bc i’m in my feels from reading angst and hurt/comfort, but can you do a fic of angst (ending happy/fluff) with ace x y/n? y/n and him are together on whitebeard’s crew and they got into an argument and stuff when they landed on an island to get supplies and chaos erupts when the marines arrive. their argument hasn’t been resolved but everyone is obviously occupied in getting back to the ship and fighting to escape. ANYWAYS y/n was actually their target and captured her bc she is actually a powerful fighter with a fruit that could be useful to them (idk u pick lol something that’s important as robin-level where it’s vital they retrieve her like idk her fruit can read any script i.e. poneglyphs yadda yadda). and then when the crew depart and do a headcount they realize one member is missing (womp womp) and ace gonna go FERAL to get her back and digging that knife of regret of saying hurtful things during their unresolved argument and cutscene to y/n getting beat tf up like how robin was beat up in water 7 from that mf spandam when imprisoned. OUHHH AND IMAGINE ACE’S REACTION WHEN HE SEES THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE ALMOST DEAD TO A PULP AND COMMITS ARSON and ends happily with y/n back and recovering and them finally resolving their arguement (cue: fluff). tl:dr basically an ace x y/n centered fic in a water 7-type scenario. IM A VERY ACTIVE MALADAPTIVE DAYDREAMER AND I NEED TO BE FED (tysm if u take on this request lmao ik it’s so detailed i hope it’s not too much i’m just itching for more one piece fics and i love ur work) 😭🫶🏼

Embers of Regret

portgas d. ace x reader

a/n: the more detailed a request is, the easier it is to write the fanfic, so don't worry—I actually appreciate it a lot! \^o^/

words count: 4.7k

tags: violence, romance, angst to fluff

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

“You never think, Ace!”

“And you never let things go!”

The argument has been boiling for days, maybe even weeks, but now it’s all spilling over in the middle of the town square, where the crew is supposed to be stocking up on supplies. The streets are noisy with merchants and villagers, but to you and Ace, it may as well be just the two of you standing here, tearing each other apart.

“You act like nothing matters!” you snap, glaring at him.

Ace crosses his arms, irritation flashing in his dark eyes “And you act like everything does!”

“Because it does!” You throw your hands up “This crew, the people we care about, you—none of it is guaranteed, Ace! But you just charge ahead without thinking, like you’re invincible, like nothing can touch you!”

“I can handle myself” he says, jaw tightening.

You shake your head, frustration clawing at your throat “That’s the problem! You think it’s just about you, but it’s not! We... I care about what happens to you!”

Ace scoffs “Right. Because you love worrying so damn much. Maybe you should focus on your own fights instead of wasting time on mine.”

The words cut deep as your breath catches.

You shake your head, frustration boiling over “You act like nothing can touch you... but newsflash, Ace, you’re not invincible! One day, you’re gonna get yourself killed, and—”

He scoffs, cutting you off “And what? You’ll cry about it?”

You freeze.

The air shifts.

Ace seems to realize what he just said, but his pride keeps him from taking it back. The damage is done.

You inhale sharply, forcing yourself to push down the sting “Got it,” you say flatly “You don’t need me watching your back or even care about your damn life. Noted.”

Before he can respond, you turn and walk away.

Ace watches you go, his fists clenched. He should call after you. Should apologize. But he doesn’t.

Then the Marines come fast and hard, hitting the town before anyone even realizes what’s happening.

Civilians scatter as armed soldiers flood the streets, and the Whitebeard Pirates instantly snap into battle mode. Marco takes to the skies, Thatch barks orders, and Ace ignites.

He fights like he always does, fast and reckless, flames cutting through the chaos. But his mind keeps drifting, eyes flicking toward the battlefield, searching for you.

He sees you in the distance, fighting off a wave of Marines. You’re holding your own. Of course you are.

And then someone shouts “Retreat to the ship!”

The command echoes through the town, and the crew begins pulling back toward the harbor. Ace doesn’t see you right away, but he assumes you’re moving with the others. You’re strong. You can handle yourself.

He fights. He runs. He gets to the ship.

And he doesn’t notice. Not yet.

The Moby Dick sails away from the island, the battle fading into the distance. Everyone is breathing hard, wounded but alive. The crew takes a moment to regroup, catching their breath, tending to injuries.

Then Marco speaks.

“Alright,” he says, rolling his shoulders “Let’s do a count.”

Ace leans against the railing, arms crossed. His chest is still tight with lingering anger, but he tells himself he’ll talk to you once you’ve both cooled off.

“One, two, three… is anyone missing?” Marco is counting the division commanders first, then working his way through the rest.

The atmosphere is still tense, but there’s relief too. They made it out. Everyone’s here.

Until Marco stops and looks at Ace with a frown.

Ace barely registers it at first, lost in his own thoughts.

Then Marco lifts his head “Where’s Y/N?”

Silence.

The world seems to stop.

Ace’s heart slams against his ribs. His stomach drops.

“I don't know... We had a fight, she's probably just avoiding me?” he says, too sharply.

Marco scans the deck again, his expression darkening “So... she’s not here.”

Ace laughs shortly, disbelieving “What are you talking about? She was fighting, I saw her—”

“And did you see her get on the ship?” Marco’s voice is serious now.

Ace opens his mouth, then stops.

A cold, terrible realization creeps up his spine.

No.

No, he didn’t see you board.

He assumed. He thought you were strong enough to make it back. That once you were safe on the ship you were just avoiding him. That you needed space.

But now...

His hands start shaking.

“Turn the ship around” Ace demands, voice low, dangerous.

Marco’s expression is grim “Ace...”

“TURN THE SHIP AROUND!”

Flames burst from his body, flickering wildly with his panic, his fury at the Marines, at himself.

He left you behind.

He left you.

And if the Marines wanted you enough to set a trap for the whole crew... Ace’s breath catches. His vision blurs with pure, unfiltered rage.

He doesn’t care if he has to burn the entire damn ocean.

He’s getting you back.

Pain.

That’s the first thing you register when you regain consciousness. A deep, searing pain spreading through your body, sharp and unrelenting.

You try to move, but your wrists are bound, shackled in heavy seastone cuffs that sap your strength. Every inch of you aches, bruises blooming across your skin, blood drying where fists and rifle butts had struck you.

The Marines didn’t go easy on you.

“You’re awake.”

A voice.

You lift your head, forcing your swollen eyes open. A high-ranking Marine stands in front of you, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“You’re quite the prize,” he muses “A rare Devil Fruit ability, strong enough to stand alongside Whitebeard’s division commanders… No wonder they keep you so close.”

You glare, lips cracked, but you manage to spit out, “Go to hell.”

The Marine smirks “I think you misunderstand your situation.” He steps closer, his shadow stretching over you “The World Government has big plans for you, Y/N. You have two choices: cooperate… or break.”

You bare your teeth, eyes burning with defiance “Screw your choices.”

The Marine sighs like he expected that answer. Then his fist collides with your ribs, hard enough to make you choke on the pain.

You don’t scream. You won’t give them the satisfaction. But deep down, there’s a gnawing fear.

Where is Ace?

Does he even know you’re gone?

Or did he leave you behind without a second thought?

Aboard the Moby Dick, Ace has never felt this kind of terror before. Not when he faced death, not when he fought impossible odds.

But now that he knows you are out there, captured, hurt, alone… It’s unbearable.

The moment Marco looks everywhere on the ship and then confirms you’re missing, Ace doesn’t hesitate. His flames surge, wild and desperate, as he grips the ship’s railing “We turn back now.”

“Ace!”

“NOW!” His voice cracks, his body trembling.

Marco exhales, sharp and frustrated “You think we don’t want to?! The Marines planned this... if we storm in recklessly, we could lose more than just Y/N.”

Ace knows that. He knows.

But all he can think about is the last thing he said to you. The way your face had twisted in pain before you walked away.

The regret is suffocating.

“Then tell me where they took her,” he growls “I’ll go alone if I have to.”

A heavy pause.

Then a voice cuts through the tension “We’re not leaving her.”

Ace turns. Whitebeard stands at the helm, his expression unreadable “She’s family,” he says simply “And we don’t abandon family.”

Ace’s breath shudders.

They’re going back.

He’s getting you back and nothing in the world will stop him.

Your head throbs. Your body is battered. The seastone cuffs burn against your skin, draining your strength, making every breath feel heavier.

Time is a blur, hours, maybe days, lost between moments of pain and exhaustion. But you refuse to break. Even when they strike you. Even when they try to force your cooperation. Because if there’s one thing they’ll never take from you it’s your will.

Footsteps echo down the corridor. A different Marine this time, younger, hesitant. He kneels in front of you, his voice low “I don’t know if you can still hear me,” he mutters “But Portgas D. Ace?”

Your heart stops.

He leans in, glancing around as if afraid of being overheard “He’s coming for you.”

A weak, broken breath escapes you.

Ace.

The Marine shifts uncomfortably and mutters “Looks like he's ready to burn the world down.”

You close your eyes.

And for the first time since you were captured, hope flickers in your chest.

Ace is coming, and he’s bringing hell with him.

Later on the Marine base is eerily quiet, the dim torchlight casting long shadows against the damp stone walls. Somewhere outside, the sound of crashing waves echoes, but inside your cell, there is only the distant clatter of boots and the dull throbbing of your wounds.

You’re too exhausted to keep your head up, but you force yourself to stay conscious. Every second you stay awake is a second they don’t win.

Then the door creaks open again.

“Still alive?”

You barely react, but the voice isn’t one you recognize.

Another Marine, older this time. Not the usual guards. His uniform is crisp, and his presence carries an air of authority. He steps closer, hands behind his back, looking down at you like you’re some rare specimen.

“You’re lucky, you know,” he says casually “Most pirates we capture don’t get this much attention.”

You don’t answer. You don’t have the strength to waste on his games.

“You’re valuable,” he continues “And I’m not just talking about your affiliation with Whitebeard.” His sharp eyes scan your injuries, as if calculating how much more you can endure “Your Devil Fruit, that’s what the higher-ups are interested in.”

You don’t flinch, but inside, your stomach knots.

Of course. Your ability to manipulate minds with a single command. A fruit so rare, so dangerous, that in the wrong hands, it could change the tides of war. Or worse.

“Imagine what we could do,” the Marine muses “With just one word, you could make entire enemy fleets surrender. You could make criminals confess. You could turn Yonko commanders against their own crews.” He kneels in front of you, voice dropping lower “Or you could make Whitebeard himself bow.”

Your jaw tightens.

They don’t just want to use you.

They want to turn you into a weapon.

For a moment, you don’t say anything. Then, through cracked lips, you force out a bitter laugh.

“You think I’d help you?”

The Marine tilts his head “You will. Eventually.”

Your glare is unwavering “Never.”

“You’ll come around.” he smiles “Or I could just kill you and find the Devil Fruit later on so that I can eat it myself. One way or another. The question is how much pain you’ll endure before you give up or die. Either way we win.”

Then he turns to leave.

“Get some rest,” he says “Tomorrow, we start breaking you properly.”

The door slams shut.

You squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing down the fear creeping in your chest.

They won’t break you. They can’t.

Because Ace is coming, and when he does, this whole damn place is going to burn.

Aboard the Moby Dick, Ace is losing his patience.

It’s been a day since they turned the ship around. A day too long.

He paces the deck like a caged animal, flames flickering around his fingers, jaw clenched so tight it hurts. The crew keeps a careful distance, no one is dumb enough to try and calm him down.

No one can.

He keeps replaying it in his head. The argument. The way you walked away. How he let you.

And now you’re gone.

“Oi, Ace.”

Marco’s voice cuts through his storming thoughts.

Ace turns, his glare sharp, but Marco doesn’t flinch.

“We found the base.”

Everything inside Ace goes still.

“Where?”

Marco tosses him a map, already marked “Marine stronghold, isolated island. Not heavily fortified, but enough of a problem if we’re reckless.” He gives Ace a pointed look “We need to be smart about this.”

Ace grips the map so tightly it crumples “They have her.”

“I know,” Marco says evenly “And we will get her back. But you losing your head won’t help.”

Ace’s fists tremble. He knows Marco’s right, but all he can think about is you, locked in some cell, hurt, alone, and how he left you.

“How soon can we be there?” he demands.

“By sunrise,” Marco says “We’ve got a plan. But Ace...”

Ace looks up, and Marco’s expression is grim.

“You better be ready for what we might find.”

Ace doesn’t hesitate “I don’t care if she’s at death’s door. I’ll bring her home.”

His flames surge brighter, hotter.

He will get you back, and if the Marines think they can keep you than they’ve never seen what happens when fire goes unchecked.

The moment the Moby Dick reaches the Marine base, chaos erupts. The crew descends like a storm. Thatch, Marco, and the others carving a path through the soldiers, clearing the way for Ace.

But Ace barely registers any of it. All he knows is that you’re in there, and he needs to find you.

“Ace!” Marco calls, dodging a Marine’s sword “Stick to the plan!”

But Ace is already breaking away.

He storms through the base, his fists burning, taking out anyone who gets in his way. The halls are a maze, twisting corridors that all look the same, and with every empty cell he passes, his panic tightens like a noose.

Where are you?

His breathing is ragged, flames licking at his skin as his frustration builds. She should be here. You should be here.

He shoves a Marine against the wall, his grip searing into the man’s uniform “Where is she?” Ace growls, his voice sharp with fury.

The soldier screams, thrashing “I—I don’t know!”

Ace snarls and knocks him out cold.

Then he runs.

And runs.

But every hallway looks the same. Every door leads to nothing. He’s not finding you.

A new kind of fear claws into his chest, but he knows he can’t think like that. He won’t.

“Ace!”

Marco’s voice.

Then hands gripping his shoulder, yanking him back.

Ace whirls around, flames flaring “What?!”

Marco doesn’t let go. His expression is firm, unwavering “You’re wasting time.”

Ace shoves his arm away “I’m finding her!”

“No, you’re panicking!”

Ace’s breath is uneven, his vision blurred with frustration “She’s not here, Marco!” His voice cracks, desperation leaking through “I don’t—I don’t know where she is!”

Marco’s gaze softens just slightly “Then we regroup.”

Ace shakes his head violently “No.” Every second he isn’t moving is a second you’re suffering, a second too long “You don’t get it—”

Marco grips his collar, dragging him close “I do get it” he says, low and fierce “But if you let yourself fall apart now, we lose her for real.”

Ace stops breathing for a second.

Lose you.

The thought is unbearable.

Marco keeps his hold steady “We will find her. But not like this.”

Ace swallows hard. His body is still shaking, fire curling around his fists but he forces himself to listen. To stop running in circles. To think.

He exhales sharply “Then tell me what to do.”

Marco nods “We need intel. And I know where to get it.”

Pain is a familiar companion now.

You don’t know how long it’s been. Hours? Days?

It doesn’t matter. You’re still here. Still breathing.

Your body is too weak to fight. Your mind too drained to resist. But you keep holding on because you know he’s coming.

Even when the Marines laugh about how the Whitebeard Pirates will never breach the base. Even when they say you’ll be locked away forever.

You know better.

Then a distant explosion. Shouting. Gunfire. And fire.

Your heart lurches.

He’s here, but the door doesn’t open, and the sounds of battle grow further away.

Your stomach twists.

Did something happen?

No. No, you won’t think like that.

You force yourself to move, just slightly, leaning against the cold stone wall. You don’t have much left in you. But if there’s even a small chance, you have to believe Ace will find you. He has to. Because you don’t know how much longer you can last.

“Alright, talk.”

Ace slams the Marine officer against the table, his fire dangerously close to igniting the man’s uniform. Marco stands behind him, arms crossed, while the rest of the Whitebeard Pirates keep the room secure.

The officer trembles, sweat dripping down his forehead “I—I don’t—”

Ace tightens his grip “Wrong answer.”

The flames grow hotter. The Marine yelps, eyes wide with terror “Okay! Okay!”

“Where is she?” Marco demands.

The officer swallows hard “She—she’s in the lower dungeons. Isolated. Special containment.”

Ace’s flames flare. Of course... Seastone.

That’s why he couldn’t find you. Why his Haki wasn’t sensing you.

Ace lets go, and the officer slumps against the chair, gasping for breath.

Then Ace turns and runs.

Your vision is swimming now.

You don’t know how much longer you can hold on.

Then an explosion. Not distant, but actually really close.

And then your cell door is ripped open.

A burst of fire floods the room, bright and blinding. And through the smoke you finally see Ace.

You think you might be dreaming.

Because his face, his expression... he looks destroyed. Like something in him has been broken ever since you disappeared.

Then he’s kneeling in front of you, hands hovering over your battered body like he doesn’t know where to start.

“Y/N.” His voice is raw, barely more than a whisper.

You try to smile “Took you long enough.”

Ace lets out a shaky breath, a laugh, but not really. More like he’s trying to keep himself together.

“Shut up,” he mutters “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

But he doesn’t sound convinced.

His fingers tremble as he undoes the seastone cuffs, his flames immediately warming your ice-cold skin. His touch is so careful, so gentle, like he’s afraid you’ll break apart in his hands.

You lean into him, too weak to do anything else.

His arms wrap around you instantly, pulling you close.

You feel him shaking.

“I thought I lost you” he chokes out.

You close your eyes.

“I knew you’d come.”

Ace swallows hard, burying his face in your hair.

Then, quietly “I’m so sorry.”

But there’s no time to say more, because the base is still burning and the fight isn’t over yet.

Ace holds you tighter, his fingers pressing against your bruised skin like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his grasp again. But you barely register it.

The exhaustion, the pain, the relief, it’s all too much.

The world tilts and then everything goes dark.

When you wake, everything seems slow and heavy, like surfacing from the depths of the ocean, your body weighed down by the bruises, the fatigue, the lingering ache of the seastone cuffs.

You shift slightly, wincing at the pain, and that’s when you realize there’s warmth. Ace.

He’s slumped over at your bedside, arms folded against the mattress, his head resting there like he’d been watching you and passed out. His face is hidden by his wild mess of black hair, but his breathing is deep and steady.

He looks exhausted.

You blink slowly, taking in the dim light of the infirmary, the distant sound of the waves outside. It’s quiet. Safe.

You made it back, and Ace never left your side.

You manage to lift a hand, your fingers brushing against his hair.

He tenses as his eyes snap open, unfocused for a second before locking onto you.

“Y/N.”

Your throat is dry, your voice barely a whisper “Hey.”

For a second, he just stares, like he’s trying to convince himself you’re real.

Then his jaw clenches, and he sits up, running a hand down his face. “Shit.” His voice is raw, hoarse, like he hasn’t spoken in hours “You—you scared the hell out of me.”

You offer a weak smile “Pretty sure you did more damage than I did.”

Ace exhales sharply, his fingers twitching against the sheets “Don’t joke about that.”

His voice is too tight. Too strained.

And when you really look at him he looks like hell.

There are dark circles under his eyes, his skin paler than usual. His hair is messier than normal, his hat discarded on the floor. His usual reckless energy is gone, replaced by something quieter.

Something heavy.

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” you murmur.

Ace scoffs, but it’s humorless “How was I supposed to sleep?” His hands curl into fists “They had you. They hurt you. And I…”

He cuts himself off, looking away, jaw clenched so tight it might shatter.

Guilt.

That’s what it is.

The weight of everything he said before. The things he didn’t say.

You swallow, shifting slightly, ignoring the way your ribs protest “Ace.”

He doesn’t look at you.

You push yourself up on weak arms, reaching for him “Ace.”

His gaze flickers to you.

“I should’ve been there.” His voice cracks “I should’ve gone after you the second you walked away. I should’ve—” He shakes his head violently “I let you go. And because of that, they took you.”

You take a slow breath “Ace...”

“You could’ve died, Y/N” His hands tremble where they grip the sheets “Because of me.”

You watch him carefully.

This isn’t just guilt.

It’s fear.

You reach for him again, your fingers curling around his wrist “But I didn’t.”

His eyes snap to yours.

“And you found me.”

Ace swallows hard “Barely.”

“But you did.” You squeeze his wrist, grounding him “Ace, I knew you’d come for me. No matter what.”

His breath is uneven, his entire body tense “What if I had been too late?”

“You weren’t.”

He shakes his head, but this time, his shoulders tremble “I can’t—” His voice lowers, raw and broken “I can’t lose you.”

Suddenly, all the anger, all the bitterness from your fight before, it feels so small. Because none of that matters now. Not when you almost lost each other.

You tug gently at his wrist, and after a second, he moves. Slowly, hesitantly, he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours.

His skin is warm. His breathing is shaky.

But he’s here and so are you.

Your fingers lift, brushing against his cheek “You won’t lose me.”

Ace lets out a shuddering breath, his hand coming up to cover yours, pressing your palm against his face like he never wants to let go.

You stay like that for a long moment, the storm inside him settling just slightly.

Then he whispers “I’m sorry... For everything.”

You smile softly, thumb brushing over his cheekbone “I know.”

He exhales, pressing his face further into your touch “I love you, Y/N.”

Your heart clenches.

Because despite everything, despite the pain, the fear, the regret, you never once doubted that.

You smile, fingers tangling in his hair.

“I love you too, hothead.”

Ace lets out a breathless laugh, wet and shaky, but real.

And when he finally kisses you it tastes like fire, and ash, and home.

He holds onto you like you’ll disappear if he lets go. His forehead is still pressed against yours, his breath uneven. You can feel the heat of his skin, the way his fingers tremble slightly against yours.

Everything feels so fragile. Like the moment could slip away if either of you move too fast. But you don’t want to move. Not yet.

Not when you can feel the way his heartbeat stutters under your touch.

Not when he’s finally here, safe, with you.

And then, quietly “You really scared me, y’know.”

You let out a breath “You scared me,” you murmur “Burning down a whole Marine base like a lunatic.”

Ace scoffs, but his grip on you tightens “Would’ve burned the whole damn world if I had to.”

You believe him. You always believed in him. Even when you were angry. Even when you walked away.

That fight. The reason you stormed off in the first place. It feels so distant now. But still, it lingers.

You take a slow breath “Ace…”

He pulls back slightly, eyes searching yours “Yeah?”

You hesitate “Before all this… before we landed on that island…”

Ace tenses. He knows what you’re talking about.

Your fight.

The argument that hadn’t been resolved before everything spiraled into chaos.

Ace shifts, running a hand through his messy hair “You were mad at me.”

You raise an eyebrow “Oh, you think?”

Ace sighs “I know.”

You look away, your fingers gripping the blanket draped over you. The memory of the fight comes rushing back. You had been reckless during a raid. You thought you had it handled. But Ace had jumped in, flames blazing, telling you to stop being so damn stubborn and let someone help you for once.

And you had snapped because it wasn’t just about the raid. It was about everything.

The way Ace always threw himself in danger, like he had to do it alone. The way he always acted like his life didn’t matter as much as everyone else’s.

And when you told him that, when you yelled at him for it, he threw it back in your face.

And now, after almost dying, after being taken, after him almost losing you, the weight of it crashes down on both of you.

Ace lets out a heavy sigh, leaning back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Guess I really was an idiot, huh?”

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow “Oh? Now you realize?”

Ace groans, dragging his hand down his face “You’re really gonna rub it in while you’re still half-dead?”

You smirk “Absolutely.”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head, but then his expression softens. His golden eyes flicker with something raw, something real.

“You were right” he says quietly.

That makes you pause.

Ace doesn’t say things like that often.

“You were right,” he repeats, voice hoarse “I do act like that sometimes. Like it doesn’t matter what happens to me. Like…” He swallows hard, gaze dropping “Like I don’t deserve to be saved.”

Your chest tightens.

“But then you got taken,” he continues, voice barely above a whisper “And I—” He clenches his fists “I would’ve burned the whole world down to get you back. No hesitation. No second thoughts.”

He looks up at you then, something pleading in his expression.

“And that’s how you felt, isn’t it?”

You don’t answer right away, because you don’t need to. Ace already knows.

You sigh, leaning back against the pillows “You do deserve to be saved, Ace.”

Ace exhales, rubbing the back of his neck “Yeah, well. Guess I finally get it now.”

You shake your head with a small smile “Took you long enough, hothead.”

He lets out a weak laugh, then leans forward again, pressing his forehead against yours.

It’s warm. Comforting. Safe.

You close your eyes, exhaling softly “Next time we fight, can we just skip to this part?”

Ace huffs out a laugh “What, the part where I almost lose my mind looking for you?”

You nudge him weakly “No. The part where you admit I was right.”

Ace groans dramatically “Ugh, never mind. You’re insufferable.”

You smile, your fingers brushing against his. But then you feel something wet against your skin.

You pull back slightly, confused “Ace…”

He blinks, startled “What?”

You reach up, brushing a thumb under his eye.

“You’re crying.”

Ace freezes. For a second, he looks caught off guard, like he hadn’t even noticed.

Then, before you can say anything else, he lets out a choked laugh, rubbing his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

He sniffles slightly, then smirks at you through his tears.

“Look who’s the one crying at the end.”

You stare at him. Then you laugh with him. A real, genuine laugh.

Ace grins, his hand finding yours again, fingers lacing together. His grip is warm, steady, alive.

And when he squeezes your hand gently, you know neither of you will ever walk away again.

437 notes · View notes

all444miles · 2 years ago

Text

— JERSEY LUV

— pairing: e-42 miles x black!fem!reader — genre: suggestive, but fluff. — summary: attractive things Miles does that just make you fold instantly. — a/n: this was js in my drafts n i was like "i should post this" while yall waiting 4 my new fic !! the entire time i was writing this I was losing my absolute SHITTT. 😭 Like, i was dead by the first hc. this might as well be those "what's it like dating miles" type shi but i wanted to make it diff, yk? listen to some kind of fold-worthy song while u read this - anyways, im waffling. enjoy, mls !! part 2 part 3 !

MILES MORALES that does not take your attitude. He loves you, yes, but if you do too much or talk crazy, he's gonna put you in your place. It's nun violent, of course, but he may just grab your neck once or twice.

"Chiquita, watch yo tone wit me." "Drop that attitude f'me." "Miss me with that voice, ma."

MILES MORALES that manspreads. that's it. that's all.

MILES MORALES that's always gonna call you by some kind of nickname. He just loves it, and you do too. Princesa, ma, hermosa, the list goes on and on. One time he called you lil mami (if you're shorter) and you actually lost it.

MILES MORALES that always has his hands on you. Your waist, your thigh, your face, everywhere. He just needs to make sure your there.

MILES MORALES that lives for your kisses and always kisses you. Doesn't matter the place, the time, nothing. If he wants a kiss from you, or wants to give you some, it's gonna happen. Especially when you have lipstick/lipgloss on.

"Mi reina, lemme love on you."

MILES MORALES that drives with one hand because his other always on your thigh. It's like his lil resting spot.

MILES MORALES that'll always let you know he misses you, he'll spam you with "i miss you" texts or voice notes w him going on abt his day when you not around ‹3

MILES MORALES that has social media but only uses it to post you. You the love of his life, why wouldn't he let evb else know that?

MILES MORALES that loves to spoil you. You like that pandora bracelet? It's yours. You have a shein cart? Its on its way. He loves to spoil his girl, its his love language atp.

MILES MORALES that always keeps eye contact with you and make sure you keep contact with him whenever yall talking. dont look away if he say sum that makes you fold, he gon grab your chin and make you face him 🤭

"Nah nah baby, don't turn away. Keep ya eyes on me."

quick @ to my boo @laaailuh

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

6K notes · View notes

planete777 · 1 year ago

Text

LEAF TAPES 2・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader ft. oscar piastri )

read part 1!

IN WHICH. after months of radio silence, y/n and lando go trending for the same thing again... but this time, it's not only them.

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, non consensual explicit video leaked, sexual descriptions, twitter environement, mentions of getting high (as per), very self indulgent so just sit back and enjoy

NOTE. it's finally here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i've answered your requests, i hope you guys like it. my back aches from doing this so im gonna knock myself out lol. anyways, last fic for a few weeks, but i'll still be online/idle so u can still drop by my inbox if u want. okay ill let u go now bye and enjoy!!!!!

‧₊˚✩彡 taglist @laciijane @ferrarrigirl @norrizzandpia @mimi-luvzyu @multifandomwhore-003 (use askbox if you'd like to be added!)

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yn_ln

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 789,331 others

yn_ln life lately <3

>comments<

landonorris literally obsessed with you

landonorris love the last picture who's that on the left -> yn_ln what happened to being obsessed with me :((( -> landonorris sorry 😅 i mean the left. -> user 😭

user oscar cameo!!!!! OSCAR!!! CAMEO!!!

user i want both of them!!11!!1!1! i can take both of you!!!! -> user so real

user couple goals.... brb just setting up the toaster and the bath

oscarpiastri picture 2.... minutes before disaster -> landonorris disaster??? i found it pretty entertaining -> yn_ln i'm still recovering 🤭 -> user CARE TO SHARE??? I WANNA KNOW!!! -> user yn girlie............ let's gossip -> yn_ln no can do luv xx 😌

oscarpiastri anyways i look so good -> yn_ln humble yourself babe x -> landonorris what she said ^ -> user don't listen to them oscar, you do love good ❤ -> oscarpiastri trust me, i know 😏

lily_mhe loved going out with u bby <3 -> yn_ln yes!! we should do it again.... without the boys 😒 -> alexalbon uhm wow -> landonorris i need to get used to sharing the loml </3 -> oscarpiastri lol -> yn_ln 🤭

user she's so pretty "$%$£"£$(!"£$

user why are they being so cryptic 😩 -> user they wanna kill me

user 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨 -> user i've got so many questions

user lily and y/n are for the girlies xx sorry i do not make the rules -> yn_ln speak it!!! -> lily_mhe yup!!

maxfewtrell no pic creds?? -> yn_ln i can give donations? -> user LMAOAOAO -> user max being bullied pt 2838474

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landonorris

liked by yn_ln, oscarpiastri and 1,302,811 others

landonorris ♾

yn_ln look at us trending for the second time in 2 months 😝 -> landonorris ikr such icons -> oscarpiastri quite fun tbh -> user 😭 -> user u lot realllyyyyy dgaf and i love that for you

oscarpiastri i give the best cuddles ik -> landonorris u also give the best 🧠 -> yn_ln AND WHAT ABT ME? -> landonorris oh yeah... ig -> user what the fuck is going on??? 😭 -> user in broad daylist insta comments

user im surprised he didn't post a lil snippet on ig like yn did last time -> user literally 💀 -> user he wants us to have the full experience on twt fr

carlossainz55 im begging u, plz no more -> alexalbon 🙏 -> charlesleclerc 🙏 -> georgerussell 🙏 -> pierregasly 🙏 -> yukitsunoda 🙏 -> danielricciardo 🙏 -> lewishamilton 🙏 -> user they are going THROUGH IT!! -> landonorris we'll think abt it

user surprised, but not disappointed

yn_ln no more 🐱 for u! -> landonorris NO. U CAN'T DO THIS TO ME. -> user he survives purely off of the kitty cat. i support the hustle -> oscarpiastri spare the man 🙏 -> yn_ln nah he can just watch -> oscarpiastri fine by me

user foursome?? -> user join the line

3K notes · View notes

paarksunghoon · 7 months ago

Note

hello omg i love love LOVE deep honey, which is rare cus i usually do not touch fluff at all but smth abt the way u wrote got to me. i was wondering that in case u wanted an idea, u could write abt sunghoon rushing over to take care of his sick girlfriend? :3 just a thought or any headcannons u have on that would do fine but if u wanna turn it into a drabble or fic that's good too, especially if it's a continuation of deep honey

anyways, that is all from me, have a good day!!!

thank you so much :’) for all of my nsfw drabbles and content, I really enjoy writing the softer kind of stories. switched up the request just a little. consider this a token of my appreciation for your kindness. xx

ps this is what I’m imaging him wearing

***

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that nothing good could ever happen when you text someone past 2AM.

Both existential and physical dread consume you the second you open your texts and see a plethora of unread messages due to your current state of being. You’ve been bedridden for what feels like years but it’s only been a few of days. It’s technically Sunday morning and technically you should be fast asleep, especially since you’d taken medication to help you rest throughout the night. But seems like your body has other plans for you.

Tossing and turning won’t do either. Your head feels much better than it has for the past two days. You’d taken two days off or classes because of intense migraines paired with what seems like onset sickness due to it being flue season. Guilt over missing classes and groveling to your professors (even if they extended grace and told you to rest up) ate you alive, only ebbing away when you closed your eyes and slept.

Your roommate has been away because of a family event and what was once a promising weekend full of relaxation and the apartment to yourself is now a time for you to wallow in your misery. You’ve gone through countless tissues and have slept more in the past few days than in your entire life. It feels like your head might as well be cut off with how many problems your eyes, nose, and throat are giving you.

To pass the time, social media distracts you for a few minutes and you catch glimpses of what your friends have been up to. Partying. Studying. Eating at the cafeteria. All of these are mundane events you took for granted because you’d love to be anywhere but rotting away in your apartment. You’d rather studying for a midterm over feeling like you can’t move without losing your breath.

You take this time to catch up on texts as well. There are so many what remain unread by you and guilt crawls up your spine as you begin to reply to everything.

hi riki!! sorry I haven’t replied yet. I’ve been sick all weekend :/ I wish I could’ve gone to jake’s game with u bc it looked so fun ☹️

jungwon ur your cat is so cute omg…please send more vids. also sorry for replying late im sick lol

sunoo I swear to god if you watch another episode without me, I’m gonna beat your ass whenever I recover

yes, mom. I’m resting as much as I can! sorry I haven’t responded sooner. I still feel sick

heeseung do u think sunghoon would be weirded out if i text him right now. pls advise 😁

Heeseung immediately reads the message and the text bubble appears straight away. He’s one of your closest friends in university who always happens to be friends with Park Sunghoon, the guy you’ve been talking to for the past month and a half.

heeseung: Nah not weird. He’d probably like hearing from you

heeseung: He was asking about you earlier today and said you haven’t been talking to him as much

you: looking at my phone made me nauseous :/

heeseung: You should probably tell him that bc he’s been staring at his phone all day

you: soooo it wouldn’t be weird if I texted him out of the blue rn?? usually we don’t like…start conversations so late

heeseung: You’re overthinking. Just text him and if he doesn’t reply then he’s asleep and will text you in the morning

you: I’m scared of fucking it up

heeseung: There’s nothing to fuck up. If he gets mad that you took care of yourself (he won’t be) then he’s the one who fucked up

you: ugh when did u become the voice of reason

heeseung: :)

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard after you’ve opened Sunghoon’s text. You can imagine his slight pout when you think about how he’d react when he realizes you haven’t texted him back, which makes you feel even more guilty than you already are.

You’re not really sure how you started talking to him, let alone befriended Heeseung to the point where he started inviting you to hang out with him and his group of friends. Heeseung had originally been a study partner for a shared class back when the two of you were sophomores. It’s been a couple of years since then and now most of your conversations consist of TikTok jokes and Heeseung having to deal with you pining over one of his friends.

Sunghoon is every bit of cool you can imagine. He was so quiet when you first met him, residing in his oversized sweater since it was approaching the beginning of autumn. Heeseung invited you to a local bar on a Friday night after midterms and said your first drink would be on him if you made it before last call, knowing very well you were likely getting ready to slip underneath your blankets and call it a night.

He was right as always. You showed up wearing jeans and an old shirt with a jacket that was too big for your body. You’d made somewhat of an effort to look presentable since you’d be hanging out with his friends near campus and would rather not look like you’d gotten rolled over by a locomotive. It was there you met Sunghoon for the first time. He was so quiet that you barely heard him talk until an hour into hanging out with him, but that’s when you learned that he was someone you needed to get to know before he’d show you his loud, boisterous personality.

The more you hung out with him, the more you started to picture yourself with Sunghoon, away from the group you started to call your friends too. You’d only see him when Heeseung invited you out or if you bumped into someone else while Sunghoon was in tow with them. Neither of you seemed to cross paths otherwise and even then, Sunghoon was a bit too timid to approach you first and start a conversation.

Part of you wondered if you were ever too bold when you’d get drunk with him and your friends. You were loud, full of laughter and affection that none of your friends were surprised every time you shouted compliments across the tables and declared your love for the little group you considered to be your family away from home. Heeseung had gotten used to it pretty quickly and so did the others, albeit it took a while for their ears to stop glowing red every time you’d pull them into a drunken hug.

Maybe you sent a little too far with Sunghoon, who immediately tensed when your arms wrapped around his shoulders the first time you let your inhibitions down fully. A few beers and shots in, and Heeseung was anticipating your drunken rant about how much you love the little life the five of you had created and hoped that it would continue even after you all graduate.

Sunghoon always looked a bit intimidating with his dark, thick eyebrows and shielded his wandering eyes. He always looked like he knew what he wanted and his grace always made you think twice about what you’d say to him. Although, you knew this was the beginning of an onset crush that wouldn’t remain hidden for long, let alone when you weren’t sober.

So you’d thrown your arms around Sunghoon’s shoulder and told him how happy you were that Heeseung introduced the two of you. While you try not to think about that moment too much, you recall telling Sunghoon that he was slowly starting to become one of your favorite people because of how funny he is when people least expect it. You liked that he was so kind to his friends and that he was so confident in himself, and that you wished you could be a little more like him.

You also said he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. It was a sobering moment because he looked at you like you’d grown two heads and his shoulders felt like they might’ve been pushing you off of his body.

Stumbling with consistent apologies, none of your mutual friends seemed to notice what was happening behind them. You can picture the look on his face when your mind crosses to this moment, how he’d looked at you with bewilderment with his mouth ajar. Sunghoon didn’t say anything and you took that cue to leave him alone and head to the bar, where you hoped distance would make this night seem less tragic than it was.

When morning came around, you were the only person in your shared group chat who declined getting a late morning breakfast due to your embarrassment. Even during the next weekend, when Jake opened up his apartment for a casual hang out, you were the only person who didn’t show up, citing work and study stresses keeping you away from your friends.

Heeseung knew those were merely excuses.

“Cut the shit, Y/N. Are you okay? Did one of the guys do anything to make you uncomfortable?” The worst laced in his tone made you feel guilty for having him think the worse of people he knew before he met you.

“No, nothing like that. I think I’m the one who fucked up and made them uncomfortable.”

“Well clearly not since Jake invited you to his place. What’s going on? Do you want me to come over?”

The last thing you expected from Heeseung was to see him double over in laugher when you explained your predicament, clutching onto your bed like he’d fall to the ground if he didn’t. You’re sure that fit of laugher gave him a new set of abs.

“Sunghoon wasn’t weirded out. He texted me and asked if you were okay.” Heeseung pulled his phone out of his pocket to show you, leaving you in a cloud of confusion. “He probably likes you. Sunghoon’s a natural with girls even if he doesn’t realize they’re flirting with him. I think he likes you too because he’s acting really awkward because he doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

That night left you with more question than answers. You considered texting Sunghoon and asking if the two of you could talk, but you didn’t want to make him even more uncomfortable and tell him what Heeseung told you in fear of putting your friend in an awkward position. So you let the discomfort settle and braved seeing him the next time one of your friends invited you out.

Which, to no one’s surprise, was the weekend after Jake’s get together. Seoul’s autumn carnival was in its third weekend by the time the five of you were able to find adequate time to ride every rollercoaster and eat until your stomachs caved in. You loved the fair and were the first person to buy an admission ticket. Poor Jay, who wasn’t the biggest fan of big rides in the first place, tagged along with Jake every time he insisted on it. You tried your best to keep some distance between yourself and Sunghoon, even if Heeseung said you were being ridiculous. You’d chosen to stick by him until Sunghoon volunteered to help you pick up the food trays when you lost a game of rock-paper-scissors.

“I’m sorry that I acted weird that night,” he said, cutting the silence as the two of you waited for your order. He didn’t have to explain. You knew what he was talking about. “Heeseung said you felt bad for making me feel uncomfortable but I need you to know you didn’t make me feel that way.”

That was the longest sentence he’d ever said to you, let alone it being the first time he initiated a conversation with you. He watched as you stood with your eyes wide and mouth parted like you wanted to say something but didn’t know how to say it.

“I think you just caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting you to say nice things about me. I didn’t realize we were that close because you’d been affectionate with everyone but me up until that night.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I was, uh, flustered.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He averted your gaze and looked at his shoes momentarily before he looked back at you. “I liked what you said. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

You laughed at the awkwardness dissipating. “I thought I crossed a line, or something. You just sat there and I thought I fucked up by touching you.”

He shook his head. “You didn’t. I…I liked it a lot.” You tried to hide a grin by keeping your bubbling excitement under wraps failed miserably. Sunghoon smiled too, offering to carry most of the trays back to the table where your friends were too hungry to talk for the next ten minutes.

The memory brings you back to the present where your thumbs hover the keyboard. You start to read back the conversation between the two of you and feel those butterflies erupt in your stomach for the umpteenth time. The two of you have talked about anything and everything. Nothing is off limits. So why is texting him to let him know you’ve been sick for the past few days so difficult for you?

you: hi

you: sorry I haven’t texted a lot in the past few days. I’ve been having migraines and now I’ve caught a cold ):

you: im sorry for texting so late too

He texts immediately.

sunghoon: You don’t have to be sorry. Are you feeling better now?

sunghoon: Actually don’t answer that

Your phone rings.

“Hey,” you say with your phone propped against your ear. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me. I’m the only who’s calling you when you’re sick, so I’m technically the one bothering you.” His laugh on the other line makes you smile a little too hard. “I was really worried. None of the guys heard from you so I figured you needed some space.”

“Unfortunately. I had to skip a few classes because it hurt to stand up. I’m pretty sure I’ve slept more this past week than I have in the last month.”

“I’m sorry. That really sucks.”

“I feel bad that I haven’t been able to talk to you.”

As if Sunghoon could sense you pouting, he clicks his tongue and reassures you. “It’s fine, Y/N. I’d probably do the same thing. I can’t imagine how much pain you’ve been in.”

“I would honestly rather study and take a million midterms than go through this again. I feel like someone just took their shoe off of my head.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re doing better. Can I bring you anything? Medicine, maybe?”

You cough a little. “No, but thank you. My friend dropped off a lot of NyQuil and other stuff to help me. It’s working…kind of. Still feel like shit, though.”

“…Can I come over? To help you with your sickness, of course. I can bring you soup.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You frantically rise from your bed amidst his words and realize there are tissues on the ground and dirty clothes strewn everywhere because of your lack of energy. Your living room must be a mess, too, and this would also be the first time Sunghoon would see you without any makeup on.

“I want to. But I mean, only if you’re up for it. I don’t want to stress you out since you’re sick. I just want to help make you feel better. That…and I miss you.”

Sunghoon’s never been so direct before. Even though the two of you have been talking for a while, neither of you have been so forward about it. Conversations are always subtly flirty to the point where the effervescent feeling simmers just underneath the surface. The two of you have hung out without the rest of your friends and have been alone before, but neither one of you has gone so far as you be so bold about the other.

“I miss you too,” you whisper into the phone.

“Give me thirty minutes. I’ll come with soup.”

He hangs up and with a newfound sense of urgency, you make your bed and throw away any stray trash. You put your dirty laundry in the hamper, which is piled high and untouched. It’ll be a problem for when you’re not sick.

The living room isn’t too bad. You straighten furniture and throw away empty takeout containers and wash a few utensils. The tasks don’t feel as draining as they did a few days ago and you’re starting to regain a little bit of your breath.

True to his word, Sunghoon arrives thirty minutes after he said he would. You open the door and look at him. He’s wearing blue hoodie and sweatpants with specs that make him look significantly more attractive than you’re used to.

“Hi,” Sunghoon says with a gentle smile. “I missed you.”

You bite your lip and blurt out your first thought. “You look really good in those glasses.”

Sunghoon chuckles. “Thank you. Can I come in?”

“Right, right.” You step aside and he follows you into your apartment. He takes his shoes off and places them neatly by the shoe rack.

“I might need to reheat this. I got it from that place near my apartment. You know, the one with the yellow banner?”

“I love that place.”

He smiles at you. “I know. Can I heat up some soup for you?”

When you nod, Sunghoon moves to the correct cabinet and pulls out everything he needs. It astounds you because he’s only ever been to your apartment twice before, both times with your other friends in tow. It dawns on you that it’s the first time the two of you are alone in your space. You’re touched that he remembers where your things are.

He beckons you to sit on the counter in front of the steaming bowl and the aroma of spices makes your mouth water. You haven’t been able to eat consistently in the past few days, surviving on bland foods like bread and crackers to sustain your health because anything else made you feel sicker than you were. The steam feels good against your skin and you dig in right away.

Sunghoon pulls your hair back when it gets close to the rim and holds it for you while you lap up the soup. It seems as though you’re hungrier than you thought because you sit there wordlessly, shoveling liquid into your mouth while Sunghoon watches.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I must look like a zoo animal.”

“You’re sick, Y/N. You have nothing to apologize for. The first meal you can stomach is the best one.” It’s like he gets you. Sunghoon continues to hold your hair back until you’re finished. He washes the bowl and spoon, and puts it back where they belong.

Sunghoon turns around and looks at you under the ambient lighting you and your roommate put up in lieu of the overhead lights. It feels like he’s inspecting you and you try really hard not to think about the fact that you don’t feel presentable in this moment.

“Your apartment feels very you,” Sunghoon says. “I like all of the green furniture and the art on the wall.”

“My roommate picked the decor out but I’m starting to understand why she loves art so much.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks, looking at you. “Would you want to go to an art museum with me?”

“I’d really like that.”

Sunghoon pulls you by the hand to your couch and you try your best not to feel flustered with his touch. He sits you down on the cushion and immediately you feel like you need to be hyper vigilant because he’s looking around the apartment and you’re wondering if he can see the messes you see.

“Do you have a blanket? We could watch some TV. Or I could go. I don’t know.”

“Don’t go.” You say it too quickly but Sunghoon’s shoulders relax. “The blankets are beside the couch.”

He drapes it over you, leaving himself to fend for the cold. Although you’re sure he’s pretty warm, you open up the blanket and invite him to share it with you.

This is new territory. You two have just been talking. But Sunghoon isn’t deterred. He slots himself next to you and doesn’t shy away when he feels your arm pressed against him.

“Sorry for the mess. And for, well…” He watches you gesture to your face, which is undoubtedly red with dark circles underneath your eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. I still like you.”

You aren’t used to him being so upfront like this. He watches you with easy eyes, the kind of feeling that makes you believe what he says. Sunghoon is pretty reserved when it comes to these types of things and you often find yourself being the one to push him towards his bolder side. But even though you feel flustered by his words and underneath his stare, you like this newer side of him.

“I’m such a mess.”

Sunghoon watches you push your forehead into his shoulder in an attempt to hide yourself from him. He smiles at your antics and loves the feeling of your body on his. He’s been hesitant to do things like hold your hand or kiss your cheek in fear or overstepping a boundary. He doesn’t know what came over him when he held your hair back from falling into the hot soup. He knows very well that he could’ve asked where you kept your hair ties, but helping you when he knows you need it felt like the right thing to do.

Now, he wonders if you’re growing bolder with him too. You let your forehead rest against his hoodie as you take deep breaths. He hears you sniffle a few times and nearly coos at the mere thought of you suffering from your sickness. When you pull yourself away from him, the tip of your nose is slightly runny and your eyes look a bit more red than usual.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

He bites his lip. “You could look worse.” You try not to let your cheeks rise in heat.

“You’re just being nice.”

Sunghoon laughs and shakes his head. He could never lie about how he feels towards you. “Nope. You still look really cute.” He watches the gears work inside your head and locates the TV remote when you don’t say anything. “What do you want to watch?”

“I dunno.”

“C’mon, you must’ve been watching TV while you were cooped up here.”

You shake your head. “Migraine, remember? Felt like my eyes were gonna burst.”

This time, he coos out loud. Sunghoon puts on a show you’ve mentioned enjoying in the past and hopes he chose correctly. You seem to be mellowing out and paying attention to the screen in front of you until you start breathing heavily. It’s not until he hears you try to silence a small coughing fit that he shoots up from his seat and pours you a glass of water.

“Here.” Sunghoon doesn’t let you hold the glass. Instead, he beckons your mouth open by placing the rim between your lips and lets you swallow the water, tilting it up until you’ve consumed all of it. He wipes the excess water from the corners of your mouth with his thumb and looks down at you with concern. “Do you have any tea? I can make you some. Hopefully that’ll soothe your throat.”

“Stupid medicine isn’t working,” you grumble. “I might as well perish.”

“Tea, baby,” Sunghoon says, the pet name rolling off his tongue with ease. You almost don’t notice it. “Where do you keep your tea and honey?”

“Cabinet beside the fridge.”

Sunghoon comes back a few minutes later with piping hot chamomile tea with honey. You don’t know how he does it, anticipating your every need and putting just enough honey where it doesn’t feel like you’re stuffing your throat with the sweet nectar. You sip on it slowly as he situates himself back underneath the blanket and keeps his eyes on the television while you try to calm your erratic heartbeat.

Eventually, the episode finished and it’s almost four in the morning when you start to get sleepy. Sunghoon hears you yawning beside him and does his best not to grin like a lovesick idiot when you push your body against his in an attempt to get comfortable. You’re holding the empty cup loosely in your hands when your eyes start to droop and as much as Sunghoon would love to stay like this, he knows it’ll be better for you to sleep in your own bed with your back against the mattress.

“Baby,” Sunghoon whispers. He grabs the mug from your hands and sets it on the coffee table. “I think you should sleep in your bed. You’ll feel a lot better when you wake up.”

“But you’re so warm.”

He bites back a smile. “Thank you, but you’re gonna wake up with back pain and I know you’ll be mad that you didn’t sleep with pillows.”

He’s right and you know it but that doesn’t stop you from letting a whine slip past. Sunghoon doesn’t complain when you lean on him for support (or rather, you push your full weight onto him because you cannot be bothered with physical tasks at this late hour). Instead, he holds your waist with his arm and guides you into your bedroom from his memory of coming here a couple times before now.

Despite this, he’s never been inside your room. You’ve always kept the door closed but as he opens it, Sunghoon completely melts at how your bedroom is so utterly you. The dark green comforter hugs your queen-sized bed and a mountain of pillows cover the top near the bed frame. Your desk is an organized mess of notebooks, pens, and highlighters you carry with you during study sessions. Photographs in pretty frames decorate your walls along with posters of your favorite music and films.

He spots a picture of the two of you from that day at the amusement park when Heeseung insisted on taking a photo since the lighting was “perfect.” Sunghoon suspected that wasn’t the case but let him take it anyhow. He always considered that to be his first official memory with you. Knowing you might feel the same makes Sunghoon’s heart flutter.

“Let’s get you into bed, yeah?”

His soft touches make you fall much deeper into your tiredness. The mattress below you feels too good to be true as Sunghoon opens the blankets for you to crawl underneath. He watches you carefully as you scoot to one side and make yourself comfortable, wondering if you’re enjoying the side of him that wants to pamper you.

When you’re all tucked in with the blankets underneath your chin, Sunghoon can’t help but lean down and brush a few stray hair strands from your face. He caresses your cheek and holds himself back despite your lips being right in front of him. Instead, he settles for rubbing your soft cheek with his thumb before leaving.

Except, you reach out and grab onto his wrist. “Where are you going?”

His looks back at you in the dim light. “Home, baby. I’ll let you sleep.”

The pout you’re wearing is tearing him limb from limb. “I don’t want you to go home.”

“No?”

You shake your head. “Please…I haven’t seen you at all this week.” Sunghoon hears the strain in your voice and he isn’t sure if you’re awake enough to know what you’re saying. “I-I just want you here with me.”

How could he say no to that?

Sunghoon sits on the empty side of the bed and lets you guide your hand in his bigger one. He watches as you shake your head and he’s about to ask what you mean when you open the blanket.

He feels momentarily guilty when he pulls his hand away from you because he hears you whine again, but he slips off his hoodie to avoid overheating. He’s left in his sweatpants and a loose shirt when sliding into your bed right next to you.

You waste no time and attach yourself to Sunghoon, pushing your body until you’re resting on his chest. He does his best not to let his heartbeat give him away. This is the most he’s ever touched you. At best, he’d brush his hand against yours and waited for the right time to hold it. Today feels like he’s thrown caution into the wind.

Sunghoon puts his glasses on your night table and pulls you close to him, encircling his arms until he finds a comfortable position. Your warm breaths litter his skin and he feels like he could run laps with how happy he is in this moment. You look so cute with your body limp against his. He loves that you’re not hesitant around him anymore and hopes you know just how much he wants you close to him.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Sunghoon says in the dark, unsure if you’re still awake or not.

“What’s your secret?”

Your eyes remain closed, eyelashes covering your beautiful eyes and your cheeks are squished into a pout against his chest. He looks down at you like you’re precious cargo and a rare gem he never wants to let go of.

“I really want to kiss you.”

You don’t say anything. Instead, Sunghoon feels you move your head until you press a kiss against his chest, allowing your lips to linger for a few seconds before reverting back to your original position.

“Kiss me tomorrow.”

Sunghoon hears you snoring soon after.

“Yeah,” he whispers to himself. “I can do that.”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #kpop x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fluff #kpop imagines #sunghoon #my writing*

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justarkive · 1 month ago

Text

TABLE 3 | JJK ch15

“For good service, and cute waitresses.”

pairing: pre!military jk x waitress/secret fuckbuddy!oc

warnings: profanity, angst, humour, fluff, celebrity au, idol!jungkook , mentions of other kpop groups/idols, inner conflict, insecurity,

chap contents: its fluffy at the start, jk tries to tell oc but it doesnt work out, ur so oblivious, kissies nd hugs, dinner w the parents (whoopsie) oc finds out FINALLY in the WORST way possible.

wc: not that long

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: @jenniebyrubies @dreamersparacosm @darklove2020 @rayyrayy10 @elinaki92 @alana4610

a/n: the chapter weve all been dreading is here </3, but anyways, how do u guys think it went? was it unexpected?? the next chapter will be way more angsty but i had to leave it onn a cliffhanger LOL. IM EXCITED TO PROGRESS BROOO IMMA START WRITING CH16LIKE RN. as always Ty for reading my loveliesssss

masterlist, <prev | next>

The first thing Jungkook registers is warmth. Your warmth. The way you’re curled into him, breathing soft and steady, completely unaware of the weight pressing down on his chest.

He should get up.

That’s what he always does—slips out of bed before you wake, padding quietly to the kitchen to make breakfast. He loves seeing your half-asleep, delighted expression when you find food waiting for you. Loves the way you blink at him in surprise, like you still can’t believe he’s there.

But today… he doesn’t want to. Today, he wants to pretend. Just for a little while.

Before he inevitably has to wipe that smile off your face and tell you.

Before it’s the last time doing this with you.

Jungkook watches you, the way your lashes flutter against your cheek, how your lips part slightly with each exhale. His throat tightens at the thought that in three weeks, he won’t be here. He won’t wake up to this. Won’t wake up to you.

He nearly cries.

His head is propped against the pillow, warm, heavy eyes tracing over you as you breathe steadily beside him. The sheets have fallen just enough, exposing your bare legs, the curve of your thigh, the way your sweatshirt dwarfs you.

He swallows. Looks away.

God, he’s down bad.

But mostly, he’s endeared.

Because you’re so comfortable around him now. Now, you curl into him instinctively. Now, you leave your things in his bathroom without thinking.

Now, you make him feel like this is real.

Like you’re his.

He could stay like this all morning.

But then, you stir.

And before he can even think about it, he’s leaning in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You groan.

Eyes still shut, you scrunch your nose. “Gross.”

Jungkook just grins.

“You love it.”

Your eyes flutter open, squinting up at him. “You’re so annoying.”

“You’re beautiful.”

You blink.

Then, your face heats, and you roll over, reaching for your phone.

Jungkook scoffs. “Wow. Ignored.”

You mumble something incoherent, already scrolling through your notifications.

And that’s when he realizes—this is the moment.

He should say it. Now.

Before breakfast, before the day starts, before he has a single chance to chicken out again.

So he clears his throat.

“I have something to—”

Ping.

You cut him off immediately.

“Oh my god, Nari texted me.”

Jungkook’s jaw clicks shut.

You sit up, eyes glued to your phone, grinning at the screen. “She woke up and immediately sent me, and I quote—‘Bitch, I had a dream that I got lost in Jungkook’s apartment. It was just endless hallways, and I couldn’t escape.’”

You snort, amused. Jungkook exhales, not amused.

But he doesn’t try again.

Not yet.

And then you move, shifting closer,nuzzling into his shoulder with a sleepy hum.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut.

You don’t notice how stiff he’s gone, don’t notice the way he bites the inside of his cheek just to keep it together. He’s never been good at this—holding back. He’s always been all in, always felt things too deeply. And right now, he feels like he’s breaking.

“I have something to tell you,” he murmurs. His voice is hoarse, unfamiliar even to himself.

You don’t hear the weight behind his words.

Your stomach rumbles and you giggle.

And just like that, the moment is gone.

Jungkook exhales, staring at the ceiling again, willing the burning in his eyes to disappear. You don’t notice. You’re too busy reading whatever nonsense Nari sent you, letting out a quiet laugh before typing back.

So he doesn’t say it.

Instead, he just watches you. Watches the way you stretch, the hem of your hoodie riding up your thighs as you move. Watches the way you rub at your eyes, still too sleepy to be fully coherent.

And when you start to sit up, he acts on impulse.

A firm arm wraps around your waist, tugging you back into him. You let out a small yelp, but he just buries his face in your neck, exhaling deeply.

“Mmm, stay longer,” he mutters, voice still thick with sleep.

You hesitate for only a second before melting into him, pressing your face into his chest. “You’re so clingy,” you tease, but your arms loop around him anyway.

“Yeah,” he admits easily. “I am.”

You don’t pull away. Neither does he.

You stay like that for what feels like forever, tangled together in a mess of sheets and sleepy warmth, neither of you in a rush to move.

Eventually, though, reality calls.

You get up first, dragging him to the bathroom where you both brush your teeth side by side. He watches in the mirror as you grumble about your bedhead, fighting with your hair while he stands there, letting the mundane normalcy of the moment soak into his bones.

It’s so unfair.

The two of you make your way to the kitchen next, where you start pulling out ingredients while Jungkook leans against the counter, watching.

“You gonna help, or just stand there looking pretty?” you ask, raising a brow.

Jungkook grins, pushing off the counter. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you groan, smacking his arm with a spatula.

He laughs, dodging your half-hearted attack before reaching for the eggs. You cook together, bickering playfully the whole time—him attempting to take over, you pushing him aside with a dramatic sigh of exasperation.

Jungkook had planned to say it during breakfast.

It was perfect—just the two of you, sleepy and slow, in his kitchen.

He imagined it before you woke up: Standing beside you, cooking together, stealing little kisses, pretending you’re dating for real.

But he can’t get a damn word in.

Because today, of all days, you are so chatty.

Like, more than usual.

“Did you see that video I sent you the other night?” you ask, flipping through your phone as you sit on the counter, giving up helping him, legs swinging. “The one of that guy falling off the treadmill? It made me think of you.”

Jungkook—who currently has taken over with the breakfast, thank you very much—pauses.

“Excuse me?”

You smirk. “I feel like you would fall off a treadmill.”

Jungkook scoffs, placing eggs on a plate. “I am literally one of the most physically fit people you know.”

You tilt your head. “And?”

“…And I don’t fall off treadmills.”

“Not yet.”

He glares. You grin.

But again—he hesitates.

He should just say it.

He opens his mouth—

“Oh, wait, also—” You cut in again, oblivious to his crisis.

And just like that, he misses his chance.

Again.

Because you don’t stop.

You ramble about your weird customers at work, about how Nari got hit on by a drunk guy at the diner, about how you’re craving something sweet, maybe pancakes, but not the diner’s pancakes, because they taste like sadness.

And Jungkook just—listens.

Because he can’t help it.

Because he loves listening to you talk.

Even when it’s keeping him from saying what he needs to say.

Even when he’s running out of time.

Jungkook gives up.

For now.

You’re too happy, too talkative, and every time he tries to squeeze in a serious conversation, you effortlessly derail it with another story, another joke, another distraction.

And honestly?

He doesn’t even mind.

——

The food turns out better than expected. You both sit down at the table, and for a moment, it’s perfect.

Too perfect.

He needs to say it.

He needs to tell you.

“Hey…” Jungkook starts, but you’re already cutting him off, rambling about something completely unrelated. He tries again, but every time, you interrupt yourself with another tangent.

He doesn’t mind.

Loves the way you talk, loves the way your thoughts jump from one thing to the next without warning. He lets you go on, a soft smile playing on his lips, even as his chest feels heavier with every passing second.

“That was good, huh?” he says, nodding toward the empty plates.

You hum, licking sauce off your thumb. “I give it a solid 8.5 out of 10.”

Jungkook gapes.

“Excuse me?”

You shrug, smug. “Points deducted for lack of pancakes.”

Jungkook scoffs. “You said diner pancakes taste like sadness!”

“Not homemade pancakes.”

He narrows his eyes at you, shaking his head as he stands up to collect the dishes. “Ungrateful.”

You just grin, watching as he rinses the plates before stacking them in the sink.

“Oh, my parents are coming to visit tonight.”

Jungkook blinks. “Wait, what?”

You glance up at him, sipping your juice. “Yeah. They’re in town for the weekend, so I’m gonna have dinner with them tonight.”

“Oh.” He pauses. “So you’re going home?”

“Yeah.” You shoot him a look. “Why? You sad about it?”

He doesn’t answer fast enough.

“Oh my god, you’re so clingy,” you tease, kicking his foot.

Jungkook exhales a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I am.” He rolls his eyes, walking past you—until you reach out and grab his wrist.

“Then come.”

Jungkook freezes.

His head turns so fast you almost laugh. “What?”

“Come meet them,” you say simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “My mom would love you.”

Jungkook stares.

He expected you to laugh it off. To tease him for even suggesting it.

But instead— Instead, you’re serious.

You actually want him to come.

And suddenly, the weight of his secret comes crashing down on him all over again.

He shouldn’t do this.

He shouldn’t pretend like this is normal. He shouldn’t accept this invitation, knowing full well he’s about to destroy everything you think this is.

But—

The way you’re looking at him right now—

Soft. Open. Like you trust him.

And fuck, he doesn’t want to let you down.

So he forces a grin, nudging your knee with his.

“Is this it?” he teases. “The meet-the-parents moment? Should I bring flowers? Shake your dad’s hand like a man?”

You laugh.

But he’s not laughing.

Because meeting your parents means something.

It means you see him in your life for real.

And he—he won’t even be here in three weeks.

But instead of saying that, instead of being honest, he just smiles, leans closer, and murmurs, “Your mom’s gonna love me.”

You grin. “That’s what I said.”

And just like that—he’s agreed to come.

Even though he shouldn’t.

Even though he knows this is going to make everything so much worse.

But for now, he lets himself have this.

Because if this is all he gets before everything falls apart—

He wants to make it count.

——

You get dressed in what you came in—your hoodie and sweatpants, both slightly wrinkled from sleep. Jungkook watches from his place on the bed, hands behind his head, eyes hooded as you gather your things.

“You’re just gonna leave like that?” he asks, voice still thick from the morning.

You shoot him a look. “What’s wrong with this?”

He shrugs. “Nothing, just… thought you’d wanna freshen up before you go.”

You narrow your eyes. “You just want me to shower here.”

He doesn’t deny it. Just tilts his head, smirking.

Ten minutes later, you’re in his bathroom, sharing a toothbrush holder with him like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

The shower is familiar—you blush from the memories of it last night. You bicker over water temperature, flick suds at each other when you think he’s not looking. He kisses your wet shoulder at one point, and you shove him away, half-laughing, half-exasperated.

After, when you’re brushing your teeth again, you leave your toothbrush in its usual place next to his. He doesn’t say anything about it, but he stares for a beat too long, something unreadable in his gaze before he looks away.

And then comes the usual argument.

“I’ll take the bus,” you insist, slipping on your sneakers.

Jungkook snorts. “No, you won’t.”

“Yes, I will.”

“No, you won’t.” He’s already grabbing his keys, like he knows he’s won this fight before it’s even started.

You groan. “Jungkook, you don’t have to drive me—”

“I want to drive you,” he says simply, holding the door open for you. “Get in the car, baby.”

You grumble under your breath, but ultimately, you do.

The drive home is quiet, comfortable. His hand rests on your thigh absentmindedly, thumb brushing over your legs. You watch the city pass by through the window, messaging Nari a quick otw home, mom n dad r coming later text before tucking your phone away.

When you pull up to your apartment, he turns to you. “Text me what time I should come later.”

“I will.”

Jungkook leans in, kissing you slow, like he’s savoring it. You don’t question it, just press into him, fingers curling around the collar of his hoodie.

You pull away first. “See you later?”

He nods, lips still slightly parted. “Yeah.”

And then you’re out of the car, climbing the stairs to your apartment.

——

You expect Nari to be dead asleep when you walk in.

She’s been knocked out for the past two days, after all, barely responding to texts, dead in your bed from your hell sent night shift, only waking up for food and bathroom breaks.

But instead, you step into the apartment and—

“YOU’RE BACK!”

You startle, nearly dropping your bag.

Nari is sprawled out on the couch, bright-eyed and looking suspiciously well-rested.

You blink. “Weren’t you, like…dead?”

“I wasn’t dead, I was recovering,” she corrects, stretching like a cat. “I had a very intense weekend, okay? I deserved to sleep like I was in a coma.”

You roll your eyes, kicking off your shoes. “Sure. So, what? You just woke up?”

“Mmm…” She pretends to think. “Like, an hour ago.”

You squint at her. “So you were only asleep for, like, half of the past two days?”

“Correct.”

“And what did you do for the other half?”

“Laid here. Watched TikToks. Waited for you to come back and tell me everything.”

You snort, flopping onto the couch beside her.

She immediately grins, wiggling her eyebrows. “Sooo… How was it?”

You raise a brow. “What? Breakfast? My drive home? Be specific.”

“Bitch.” She glares. “You know exactly what I mean.”

You laugh, leaning back. “It was… good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah. Good.”

She narrows her eyes.

Then—her expression shifts, turns cheeky.

“Did you guys have another round this morning?”

Your jaw drops. “NARI—”

“WHAT?” She cackles. “It’s a valid question! I mean, he sounded like he was gonna eat you alive over text last night!”

You groan, covering your face. “Oh my god.”

She nudges your leg. “So? Did you?”

“NO.”

She squints. “Damn. Missed opportunity.”

You throw a pillow at her.

She wheezes.

“Bitch, we need to clean.”

You blink. “Not tired anymore?”

“Yeah, but I’m wide awake now,” she says, already yanking a pile of laundry off the couch. “I miss your mom. I can’t wait to see her. This place is a disaster.”

“Who said you were staying?” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Me,” Nari says, completely serious.

You roll your eyes, but you don’t fight her on it. Instead, you both spend the next couple of hours speed-cleaning, stuffing random things into closets, wiping down every surface. The place looks clean, even if it’s mostly an illusion.

Then comes the cooking.

You find a recipe for roasted chicken, following a tutorial step-by-step. It seems easy enough—until the kitchen fills with smoke, and the chicken looks questionable at best.

“It said 400 degrees for 20 minutes, how is it still raw?!”

“Did we even preheat it?”

“Oh my God, Nari.”

You and Nari are standing in the kitchen, staring at the baking sheet in horror. The chicken you so proudly marinated is still looking suspiciously pale.

Your kitchen looks like a warzone. Flour on the counter. Herbs spilled. Something is burning, but neither of you know what.

Somewhere along the way, the sauce burns, the seasoning is questionable at best, and the chicken looks vaguely threatening.

At one point, you both step back and stare at it.

Then, at the same time—

“Yeah, we can’t serve that.”

You groan, wiping your hands on a towel. “I need to run to the store.”

“Want me to come?”

“Nah, stay here. Keep an eye on things.”

Nari salutes. “Aye aye, captain.”

And with that, you grab your jacket and head out.

——

You smooth down your sweater, taking a deep breath before opening the door.

When you return, bags in hand, you expect to just see Nari lounging around.

But instead—

Jungkook is there.

Already inside, casually chatting with Nari like he owns the place.

The second he sees you, he grins.

You roll your eyes. “You’re early.”

“You sound upset.” He steps forward, taking the bags from your hands like it’s second nature.

“Because I am.”

He laughs, setting the bags down before tugging you in for a quick kiss.

It’s warm, familiar, and despite your fake complaining, you let yourself melt into it.

Nari watches, arms crossed. “Ugh. You guys are gross.”

Jungkook pulls away just enough to smirk. “Jealous?”

“Of you? No. Of Y/N? Absolutely.”

Jungkook snorts, and you just shake your head, smiling.

For a moment, it’s perfect.

For a moment, you think tonight will be fine.

And then you freeze.

“…Did you cut your hair?”

Jungkook stands there, hands in his pockets, hair shorter than before. It’s not buzzed, but the longer strands are gone, leaving it neater, more structured.

He runs a hand through it. “Yeah. I… have a shoot coming up.”

You tilt your head, inspecting him. “You look good, but… I kinda liked the mullet.”

He snorts. “Did you?”

You nod. “It was hot.”

He doesn’t say anything, just smiles, but there’s something off about it. Like he’s holding something back.

Because he is.

Because he knows this isn’t for a shoot.

Because in a few weeks, it’s all coming off.

But not tonight.

Tonight, he just lets you pull him towards you, lets you run your fingers through his hair, lets himself enjoy this moment.

Even if he knows it’s borrowed time.

——

The three of you are sprawled out in the living room, waiting.

Jungkook is beside you on the couch, lazily letting you run your fingers through his freshly cut hair while he scrolls through his phone. Nari, on the other hand, is laser-focused on the chicken.

You don’t miss the way she keeps side-eyeing it like it might disappear if she blinks too long.

“Nari, stop eyeing the chicken,” you deadpan, flicking her arm.

She groans dramatically. “But I’m starving—just one bite?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

She makes a whining sound, but you stand firm. Meanwhile, Jungkook is just watching the whole interaction, shaking with laughter, like this is peak entertainment.

“You two are unreal,” he mutters, grinning.

And then there’s a knock at the door.

You immediately straighten up, running your hands over your sweater as if there’s invisible dust to wipe off. Nari lets out an excited gasp.

“Oh my god, yes,” she whispers, giddy.

Jungkook, however, noticeably stiffens. His fingers twitch against his thigh, and when you glance at him, you catch the way his jaw flexes.

You reach for his hand, squeezing lightly. “You’ll be fine,” you reassure him. “I promise she’ll love you. They’ll both love you. But… just a warning, they’re very energetic.”

“Very energetic,” Nari adds. “Now hurry up and open the door before they break it down.”

You roll your eyes but step forward, unlocking it.

Your parents arrived late, obviously.

And they do so with energy.

Your mom practically bursts into the apartment, already talking.

“Y/N! Oh my god, we hit so much traffic—your father missed the exit—oh, honey, come here, let me see you.”

You barely get a word in before she’s already hugging you, pulling back to hold your face between her hands.

“Hi, Mom,” you laugh, hugging her back.

She pulls away to cup your face, eyes scanning you like she’s checking for signs of distress. “How are you? You look so pretty! Have you been eating well? Are you sleeping enough?”

Behind her, your dad is eyeing the situation with a small smirk. “Yeah, hi to you too,” he says, voice dry but amused.

“Hi, Dad.”

You barely get the words out before your mom moves on, immediately turning her attention to Nari with an excited gasp.

“Oh my god, Nari! Look at you, gorgeous as ever—come here, let me see you!”

And just like that, you’re shoved aside.

Nari giggles, soaking up the attention like a sponge, while you turn to your dad. He gives you a knowing look before pulling you into a quick hug.

“Surviving?” he asks.

“Barely,” you deadpan.

He huffs out a chuckle. But before either of you can say more, your mom’s voice cuts through the room like a siren.

“Oh, my daughter in law! You look so good! Have you been eating? You’re glowing!”

“Mom.”

“Oh, hush. If I had a son, I’d marry him off to Nari immediately.”

Nari grins, dramatically flipping her hair. “You hear that, Y/N? Your mom has taste.”

Then—your mom turns and sees Jungkook.

And oh. Oh, Lord.

Her hands fly to her chest.

“Oh my goodness.”

Jungkook blinks, startled.

Your dad lets out an approving hum, arms crossed, nodding slowly, as if analyzing Jungkook’s existence.

“So this is him, huh? The singer boy?”

Jungkook laughs nervously. “Uh—yeah. Hi.”

Your mom immediately grabs his hands, beaming.

“You are so handsome! Look at you! Wow, Sweetie, you didn’t tell me he was this gorgeous in person!”

Jungkook’s ears turn red.

Nari, watching from behind, cackles. “Oh my God.”

Your mom ignores her.

“Oh, sweetie, you must be tired. Are you eating well? Do you need anything? Can I get you something?”

Your dad claps him on the back. “Strong handshake. I respect that.”

Jungkook is getting smothered.

You just stand there, watching, amused, arms crossed, letting him suffer.

Then, finally, your mom turns back to you.

“Alright, let’s eat! I’m starving. And I brought real food, don’t worry.”

You don’t question how she knows youd fuck up the food.

Nari snorts. “Yeah, thank God.”

And just like that, your parents have fully claimed Jungkook as their own.

Nari and your mom settle at the table, chatting away like old friends, while your dad stays standing, arms crossed as he eyes the chicken suspiciously.

Meanwhile, you’re in the kitchen with your mom, helping her unpack the food she thankfully brought.

“Sweetheart,” she suddenly sniffs, “it smells like smoke in here.”

You freeze for half a second before continuing to open containers. “Huh?”

She gives you a look. “Did you burn something?”

“Yeah. No. Yeah. Yeah, Mom.”

She sighs, clearly so used to this. “Good thing I brought food, then.”

You nod, relieved.

As you both carry the dishes to the table, Jungkook instinctively gets up to help. But the second he moves, your mom waves him off.

“Oh no, no, no, sit down, sit down, relax.”

Jungkook hesitates. “Uh… no, I’ll help.”

“Really, I—”

“I insist,” he says, already reaching for a dish.

Your mom pauses, then huffs out a chuckle. “Oh, alright then. What a gentleman.”

Meanwhile, Nari—who has been waiting for this moment—immediately lunges for the chicken.

She does not hesitate.

It’s like she hasn’t eaten in weeks—just shoveling food onto her plate like a woman possessed.

“Jesus, Nari,” you mutter, watching in horror. “Pace yourself.”

She barely acknowledges you, already halfway through her first bite. “I told you I was starving.”

Jungkook chuckles, finally seeming to relax as he takes a bite of his own food. There’s still a bit of nervous energy in his shoulders, but it’s nowhere near as tense as before.

As the dinner settles into an easy flow, your mom and Nari fall into conversation, as they always do.

“Nari, what happened to that boy you were talking to?” your mom asks mid-bite. “Do you have a boyfriend yet?”

Nari immediately launches into a dramatic rant about Men and Their Many Flaws, and your mom nods along, engaged as ever. They have a weirdly close bond—it’s been that way for years.

Meanwhile, your dad turns to Jungkook.

“So,” he says, eyes flicking to Jungkook’s arm. “Did your tattoos hurt?”

Jungkook blinks, glancing down at the ink covering his skin. Then he shrugs, casual. “A little.”

Your dad hums, contemplating. “I wanna get one.”

Jungkook perks up. “Oh yeah? What are you thinking of getting?”

Before your dad can answer, you cut in.

“Dad, you’d cry the second the needle touched your skin.”

Your dad scoffs, affronted. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Yes, you would.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“I literally saw you tear up when you stubbed your toe last time we had dinner.”

“That was different!”

Jungkook is trying so hard not to laugh.

“I’m big and tough, just like Jungkook,” your dad insists, puffing out his chest.

“Sure,” you deadpan.

Your mom, barely paying attention, waves a hand. “Anyway—”

And then, suddenly, all eyes are on Jungkook.

“So,” your mom says, tilting her head, “how did you two meet?”

Jungkook blinks, clearly not expecting to be put on the spot. But after a moment, he smiles. “At the diner.”

“Oh my god,” Nari suddenly cuts in, turning to your mom. “Did you know Y/N didn’t even realize who he was at first?”

Your mom, still eating, barely reacts. “Oh, I’m not surprised,” she says, waving her fork. “She was never really into that kind of stuff.”

Jungkook laughs, glancing at you.

Your mom, however, suddenly gasps.

“Oh, Jungkook—you should meet her cousin. She is obsessed with you.”

You groan. “Who?”

“No, really! Albums, posters—your face is everywhere in her room!”

Jungkook’s eyebrows lift in amusement. “Oh yeah?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I know. She’s obsessed.”

Jungkook grins. “Next time, bring something and I’ll sign it for her.”

Your mom gasps. “Oh my god honey, she would die.”

Your dad, who has been quietly observing this whole thing, suddenly leans back with a smirk. “Alright, son,” he says, “I like you.”

And just like that—Jungkook is in.

Before you even realize it, half the chicken is gone.

You glance over at Nari—and yeah.

It was her.

Your parents immediately notice.

“Oh, sweetie,” your mom coos, pushing her plate toward Nari. “You must still be so hungry. Here, have some of mine.”

Your dad follows suit, sliding his dish over. “Yeah, come on. Eat up.”

Nari stares at them in horror.

Because, in reality, she is stuffed. Absolutely miserable. But she’s also too deep in the bit to stop now.

So she swallows thickly, nods, and—forces another bite.

You watch in pure amusement as she struggles, her expression slightly green, but still determined.

Jungkook notices too, chuckling quietly.

Then—your mom leans in, casual as ever, and asks:

“So, Jungkook.”

Jungkook looks up. “Yes?”

She smirks. “Are you in love with my daughter?”

You nearly choke.

Jungkook freezes, caught so off guard that he blinks—mouth slightly open.

Your dad, on the other hand, grins, immediately jumping in to tease.

“I don’t know how you could be,” he says, shaking his head dramatically. “She burned the chicken.”

You gasp. “How did you know?”

Nari, still trying not to die from fullness, weakly raises a hand. “It’s… pretty obvious,” she mutters.

Your dad cackles.

Jungkook, still flustered from the question, simply shakes his head with a small laugh, covering his mouth.

The conversation continues on—shifting topics, flowing naturally, Jungkook settling even more into the comfortable chaos of your family.

Then, out of nowhere, your mom casually says—

“Honey, did you know your cousin finished his enlistment last week?”

You blink. “Who?”

“Your cousin. He just got discharged.”

“Oh.” You nod, remembering. “Yeah, Mom. I miss him. We should visit sometime.”

Your dad hums. “We definitely will. He’s not busy anymore.”

Jungkook listens quietly, still chewing—but then—

Your mom turns to him.

And she asks—so casual, so normal—

“Jungkook, honey. When will you be enlisting?”

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fictionalmenxyn · 8 months ago

Text

߷𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬߷

Pairing: Chris x influencer!reader (established relationship)

Warnings: language, suggestive talking

-☺︎︎☺︎︎☺︎︎-

You had just arrived back at the LA house. Holding food bags from McDonalds. You went over to Matt’s room and dropped his food off. Realising the boys were on stream, but Chris was in his room.

You headed down to the bottom floor, Chris’ room. You knock on the door then open it.

Chris looks over and smiles “hey chat, my meal is here.” He smirks and made sure to hide his actual food from the camera. As you walks over and sat in the spare chair. Chat blew up.

‘OMG HEY Y/N!!’ ‘EW CHRIS U JUST CALL HER UR MEAL LOL’ ‘CHRIS NO AHAH 😂’ ‘y/n is not his food guys she went to McDonalds 😭’ ‘omg Y/n on stream with the boys’ ‘cuties!!!’

You smiled at the camera “hey guys, imma hop on stream with Chris and Matt.” Chris smiled and placed his meal out on the desk “chat should Y/n take over while I eat??” Matt joked “yeah, she better anyways.” Chris playfully gasped “absolutely not!!” You laughed. Taking the controller from Chris. You started to play Fortnite with Matt.

As you played, Chris watched and read chat as he ate. He’d giggle at some comments. He asked “hey chat?? Should I feed Y/n/n a nuggie??” You laughed. Chat obviously agreed. You joked “the fucking edits are gonna go wild…” he laughed “perfect!”

He held a nugget to your lips, you took a bite. Then he fed you the other half. You thanked him then handed over the controller as he was done eating.

You talked with everyone who was watching the stream as they played. Chris glanced over and chuckled “chats asking ass or tits…” Matt replied “personality, then heart..” Chris smirked “exactly…” you pulled a ‘ok, did he just agree to that’

Then Chris added “then ass.” You gasped “I was fucking waiting for that!!” You added “I was like ‘damn he really just agreed with Matt without saying that’s then you said it I was like ‘there it is’” you all laugh.

While Matt was doing something, you and Chris sat in his room waiting for Matt’s return.

Chris was eating a pack of sour patch kids. You stuck your index finger and thumb out. You give him the puppy dog eyes “can I have you?” He grinned “magic word??” “Please??” “It’s abracadabra!” He laughed hard. You laughed at him, thinking ‘how the fuck was it that funny??’ He held the pack out to you “here babe, since you sooo kindly said ‘please’ I guess I’ll let you have some.” You smiled “thank youuu”

You looked to the camera “see chat, this is what I gotta stick up with.” That earned a loud gasp from Chris “you did not!” He put his sour patch kids down and started play fighting with you.

Matt returned to his room, sitting back in his chair. “You guys ready for another round on here? Or we playin’ dress to impress???” No answer… “Chris? Y/n? Chat, what’re they doing??” He leaned closer to his screen and read chat. Spamming.

‘They’re play fighting again!!’

Matt chuckles, you get back into your seat again “Matt come get your fuggly ass brother” Chris playfully but definitely gently punched your arm. You punched his back “ow bitch! That hurt!” You giggled. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up!” “Wa, wa, babe, too bad so sad.” Chris demanded “kiss it better!!” You laughed. Giving his shoulder a kiss.

After a while, you were now sat on his lap as you watched him and Matt play dress to impress. “No Chris get the mini skirt!!” “I’m getting there!!” You clapped when he put it on the avatar “fucking slay, hoe!” He smiled. You said “chat, rate fit outta ten!” Everyone spamming nines and tens.

As the ratings started, Chris wrapped his arms around your waist. Placing a few small kisses to your cheek and jaw. He smiled “foot outfit choice, baby” you smiled “what can I say, I’m just too good.” Matt and Chris laughed.

You lean back into Chris, resting your head on his shoulder. Staying like that for the rest of the stream. In between all the play fighting and grabbing snacks. He also gave you the occasional kisses and pecks. You were the official ‘chat reader’ as Chris put it. Reading out chat and talking to the viewers. Everyone loved you on stream with the guys while they played games all night.

-☺︎︎☺︎︎☺︎︎-

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rotthepoet · 8 months ago

Note

heyy, i’ve been reading a lot of ur stuff lately and it’s safe to say im obsessed. i was wondering if u could write 69 w the slytherin boys? only if ur comfortable but i feel like that would be really cool. ty!

POOKIE IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER I HAVE BEEN IN SUCH A SLUMP I’LL NEVER MAKE YOU WAIT WEEKS AGAIN THANK YOU MY LOVE!!!!!

Im sitting here wondering how i should write this?? Hmmm. Writing my thoughts as i think them dont mind me<3

Smut below the cut

Draco would like… maybe be the most gentle?? If i do say so myself, and I do. He’ll probably put the most thought into how its going to happen, when, why. He wanted a lovely date, treat you nice all night, be the perfect boyfriend… and expects a reward. Self indulgent bitch. Anyways! He leads you to bed, nice and slow, passionate make out sesh, you are living a dream! Then as you both finally get your clothes off, he’s kissing down your thighs, looking into your eyes and whispering soft praises before he lays on his back, and you(knowing the drill) go to straddle his face before he grips your thigh and smirks. “Other direction, darling.” And he cant help but laugh at how you blush. He lets you set the pace, matching your speed or slowness until you both finish <3

With Blaise, it just kinda happens naturally. No one had to go watch or read porn to think about it. You and him were getting freaky one night, a movie turning into wandering hands, turning into you on his lap with his tongue down your throat. The energy in the room just said 69, and you’d be a fool to ignore it. You’re on top, and the grip he has on your ass is fucking delicious. He’s so controlling over your body, pressing his face right up into your cunt, practically inhaling, while you can barely take his tip. If you take too long going down on him he might bite your thighs to speed things up ;)

Oh man, Mattheo Fucking Riddle. Bitch. He’s a power hungry hard dom with a knack for getting what he wants when he wants it. Oh man. You’re in for a ride- no. A rollercoaster. He’s on top of you, ravaging your dripping pussy while fucking his dick into the back of your throat. Its impossible to breathe with his heavy balls slapping your face, but it cant be much easier for him with your thighs wrapping around his head. If he’s in a good mood, he’ll let you have your way. Otherwise, he’s manhandling you into whatever position he wants. He might get you upside down if you arent careful.

Theodore and Mattheo are pretty similar. Them and Enzo are the like.. roughest of the group? That being rough without copious amounts of praise. You’re far less likely to have to work for your “good girl” with Theo, but sometimes he’s a tease. Anyways, Trust the moment your lips are around his tip he’s tugging your hair and bucking up into you while he feasts. It’s so messy and loud and he’s halfway sitting up because your hips keep running from all the stimulation:(

And Lorenzo. This fucking bitch. He’s wanting to 69 all the time. I mean he gets head. You get head. I get head? Everyone gets head! And it takes half the time because two birds with one stone. In my humble, Enzo hating, opinion… he’s not big on foreplay. I mean he’ll finger you and stretch you out because he’s not a total monster, but he’s way more excited to get into the main course than an appetizer. Much like Theo or Mattheo, he’ll set the pace with his hips. No time to play around he needs to be balls deep in you rn.

#rot says so #anon ₊ ⊹#slytherin boys #slytherin boys smut #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x reader #theo nott x reader smut #theodore nott x reader smut #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini x reader smut #blaise zabini x reader #mattheo riddle x reader smut #mattheo riddle x reader #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco malfoy x reader

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f1fnatic · 1 year ago

Text

BUT I THOUGHT SHE WAS UNFAITHFUL? ⤿ d. ricciardo 3

→ ( in which. . . ) you star in a movie as the lead actress. in said movie, you date your co-star. the fans of your boyfriend don't like the idea, so they spread rumors in response to you and your co-stars friendship. but, little do they know, it's not you they should be worried about.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) social media au

→ ( face claim. . . ) sydney sweeney

→ ( pairing. . . ) daniel ricciardo x actress!reader

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) rumors of cheating, eventual cheating, cyber bullying, language, toxic fans

→ ( author's note. . . ) this was sitting in my drafts for so very long and i just finished it in class, i am so happy i am able to post something after such a long hiatus. I hope you enjoy! see end for more

─ INSTAGRAM ↴

y/nnnn

liked by glenpowell, danielricciardo, alexademie, lewishamilton and 3,126,731 others

tagged: glenpowell, sonypictures, and anyonebutyoumovie

happy to announce that anyone but you in theaters NOW! go watch it >:)

view 865,729 comments

y/nlover ugh cannot wait to watch!

alexademie pretty pretty girl

y/nnnn all you lexie :(

danielricciardo so unbelievably proud of you roo ❤️

y/nnnn thank you badger ☹️

glenpowell such an honor to work with you!

y/nnnn i can say the same!

y/nhater don't you think that her and glen are too close to be co-stars?

y/nhater2 i'm thinking the same thing there's no way she didn't cheat

y/nfan wtf are u talking ab? y/n would NOT do that to danny they are happy together

lewishamilton free tickets 👀

landonorris 👀

maxverstappen1 👀

charles_leclerc 👀

y/nnnn sonypictures what do you think?

sonypictures I'm sure we can work something out.

danielricciardo

liked by y/nnnn, glenpowell, landonorris, scottyjames31, and 3,421,874 others

tagged: y/nnnn

words cannot express how proud i am of you, my love. you have poured so much blood, sweat, and tears into this movie. i know it has been hard, especially the long shoot hours, the frantic facetimes in between scenes can vouch for that and so can the texts. i will definitely miss the on-set pictures/updates.

i love you so much y/n. i don't know how i could be any prouder. p.s. i better get a private showing if you know what i mean 😉

view 831,341 comments

landonorris gross there are children on this app

hunterschafer cutie pies

zendaya is that blond single?

danielricciardo not atm no get in line

y/nnnn danny be nice.

danielricciardo sry love 🫡

y/nfan LMAO

georgerussell63 get a room 🤮

drlover she is such a slut

alexademie actual goals

y/nnnn awe danny i love you too

y/nnnn definitely NOT crying right now!!!

lewishamilton she is lying she facetimed me SOBBING

y/nnn i called you in CONFIDENCE. CONFIDENCE LEWIS.

y/nnnn you are the sweetest, most supportive person i have ever met. i could not have gotten through this without you ❤

danielricciardo there is no one else i rather support ❤

y/ndanny they are meant for each other

y/nhater what a fucking whore

y/ndanny2 the best couple

─ TWITTER ↴

─ IMESSAGE ↴

─ TWITTER ↴

imessage ↴

—————————————————————

Unknown Contact i stole ur mans 😜

—————————————————————

lexieee 😚 i am so so sorry my love, he didnt deserve you ❤️

—————————————————————

Lando Norris He treated you like shit anyways

—————————————————————

alrighty, finished! thank you so much for reading, so sorry for the radio silence, ive been super unmotivated and consumed with school 💔 anyways, requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)

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dollfacefantasy · 2 years ago

Text

Wash His Hair

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader

summary: you wash leon's hair and try to help him unwind (fluff) (also, a tad hurt/comfort)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: inspired by this post from @peachscentedcandle cause it made me laugh. this post does reference the movie good will hunting, if you haven't seen it you should watch it! (after you read this of course ;) it's really good. but anyways, thank you so much for the support on my last posts (kissing u thru the phone if you reblogged or commented). as before, comments and reblogs are appreciated :) also, the divider is from here!

Leon had been exhausted lately. He tried to play it off, but you could tell. He was so much quieter since coming home from his last mission. He didn’t say much about it, but you knew it had been rough. It stretched longer than expected, and while it was a success in the end, there were some complications along the way that you knew he blamed himself for.

He’d walk around the apartment slower than usual with distance in his eyes. You tried getting him to talk about it, but he’d deny anything was wrong at all. It wasn’t like he wanted space though. You asked him if he’d like to do something to maybe get his mind off it, but all he wanted to do was relax in bed with you. Normally, you’d never complain about that; however, when you knew he was hurting, you couldn’t just push it aside. His avoidant nature was a little frustrating after a while, and if it was anyone else, you’d probably be fed up. But you knew he didn’t do it to be malicious.

You lie in bed with him, softly running your fingers through his hair. His cheek is pressed to your shoulder, his eyes staring at your bedroom wall. You try to watch him without being too obvious with your staring. Your hand on his head slides down to rub his back. You just wanted to help. You try to think of literally anything that might help get him out of this slump. You sit up a little in bed and he looks up at you to see the reason for your movement.

“I’m going to take a shower. How about you join me?” you say, breaking the silence.

It’s like you can see the excuse rising in his throat. The way he tenses a little and his eyes flit away. You could hear the thoughts in his head telling him to pull away and close the walls. Before he can, you speak.

“Please,” you say softly, trying to avoid sounding demanding, “It’ll let you unwind, Baby. I just want to help you. It will be quick and painless, I promise.” You give him a small smile, hoping to lighten his mood if only a little bit.

He looks at you for a moment more, the excuse sinking back down and the anxiety in his mind receding, before he nods. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees quietly.

It wasn’t a completely enthusiastic reaction, but it was a step in the right direction. Your smile widens, and you give him a quick peck on the forehead before you both roll out of bed. The air felt cool after being enveloped by blankets and Leon for the last few hours. You walk into the bathroom, turning the lights and the shower on. You rummage in the cabinet beneath your sink for anything that could make this even more relaxing for your boyfriend who undresses to the side of you as the water heats up.

Finally, you see a bag of shower steamers in the back. After taking one of the chalky pellets and placing it beneath the pouring water, you peel your clothes off. Leon’s gaze is fixed on your body, but there’s no lust in it right now. It’s pure adoration. The love you feel from his eyes causes heat to rise in your cheeks. You extend your hand to him, feeling his firm grasp as he takes it. The two of you step into the shower. You take a deep breath and inhale the fresh scent of oranges rising with the steam. He uses some of the hot water to push his hair back and out of his face. It may have been wishful thinking, but you would have sworn you could see his features already relaxing a bit.

Your eyes are soft as you look into his. You reach up to stroke his cheek a little, and you can feel him leaning into your touch as the warm water sprays over the two of you.

“C’mere,” you whisper and pull him into a tight hug. Your head rests where his heart is as your arms lock around his torso. You plant a kiss on the slippery skin of his chest and slowly start rubbing his back. “It’s not your fault.”

He doesn’t say anything, and for a moment, you worry you may have upset him. But he doesn’t move. His arms stay wrapped around you with his chin propped on top of your head.

“Just have your Good Will Hunting moment, Babe. It’s not your fault,” you say again, trying to reassure him a bit without it being so much that he’d pull away.

He amusedly exhales and squeezes his arms around you tighter. He doesn’t say anything for a while, but that’s okay with you. The shower continues pouring down on you and the steam clouds the air further.

“I love you,” he says simply. His voice sounds less deflated. The subtle improvement in his tone makes your heart glow.

“I love you too,” you say, slowly nuzzling his chest. You kiss his collar bone a few times, trying to elevate his mood further. Even though the progress was small, you could feel the shower washing away the gloom that had been surrounding him since he came home. “Let me wash your hair now,” you offer.

You reach for his shampoo, but he stops you, gently grabbing your wrist. He pulls it across the shelf in the shower to where your things sit. “Use yours,” he says softly.

You beam at the request and kiss his cheek. His eyes were starting to lose the fog of exhaustion. He still looked tired but not beaten down. You grab your shampoo and squirt the liquid into your hand. He didn’t care if it wasn’t good for his hair type or anything like that, he just wanted your smell on him.

You rub the shampoo over your palms into a soapy lather. Leon tilts his head down to give you a better angle. You run your hands through his hair, lovingly scratching his scalp as you work the bubbles through his blonde locks. He shuts his eyes and nearly purrs while your fingers massage his head. You press tender kisses to both of his cheeks and nose before directing his head under the shower head to rinse.

The stress and guilt melt away under the hot water and your affection. You’re nearly petting him as you guide the soap out of his hair. He lets out a deep breath after inhaling the steam. He zones out as you start conditioning his hair. He only comes back as he feels you rubbing a wash cloth over the muscles of his chest and arms. His eyes slowly open and watch you spread the soap across his body.

You smile up at him as you move to his abdomen. “You still with me?” you say with a little teasing in your voice.

He hums in response and shuts his eyes again. You soothingly wash the rest of his body and then rinse him off. You quickly take care of yourself as he continues to relax under the flow of water. When you’re done, you give him a sweet kiss to bring him out of his stupor and shut the water off. The two of you step out of the shower hand in hand. You pass him a towel and you both dry off. He starts for the closet, but you take him by the arm and lead him to your bed.

“Don’t get dressed yet. Just sit back, take it easy, and let me help you really relax,” you say before kissing him yet again. He watches you as you get your lotion and begin rubbing it into your palms. You work the cream over his body, paying extra attention to the places you could feel his tension. The smell fills the air and puts him further at ease.

You glide around so you’re kneeling on the bed behind him, kneading the muscles of his shoulders and back. You kiss and nuzzle his neck. He lets out a soft noise of pleasure.

“There you go, Baby. Let it all go. There’s nothing to worry about right now,” you coo as you continue your soothing caresses. He’s like putty in your hands as you continue loving on him.

You finish your makeshift massage once you felt his skin couldn’t be any smoother. The two of you dress in fresh clothes before climbing into bed, getting comfy between the pillows and blankets. You tangle your limbs with Leon and kiss his head. “See, this feels even better than before, right?” you whisper.

He nods and shifts his position so that he’s nearly on top of you. He kisses your neck softly. He was so soft and smelled like you. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

“No thanks needed, my love,” you say and return the kiss to the side of his head.

“But I want you to hear it, need to make sure you know,” he whispers.

You run your hand through his clean hair and cradle his head in the crook of your neck. “I know. You don’t have to worry about that either. I like doing this,” you reassure, “Just try to get some real rest now.”

He hums and gives you one more kiss before shutting his eyes. You feel him drifting off above you, at peace for the moment.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil fluff #ch: leon kennedy 💌

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sungkixx · 3 months ago

Text

Nezushi Dance Scene Analysis

I was talking with a friend about how the way two people dance show a lot about the status of their relationship with each other. Then I decided to give my own thoughts about Nezushi’s Iconic Dance Scene and what was the dance scene trying to show.

This may be an obvious thing to some, but I wanted to express my thoughts anyway :)

In a scene before this, Nezumi passed out due to the Song of the Wind (Elyurias’s song) and later wakes up to Shion next to him. Shion then worries incessantly, checks him to see if there was anything wrong or if he was in any pain.

Nezumi sees his earnest worry about him and gets agitated and uncomfortable, since he’s not used to another person worrying about him. He gets especially narked when Shion tells him straight up that hes a human being and that he should look out for himself.

Having someone worry over you means more shackles on you, in order to put in the extra effort of being careful. Basically it means someone loves you.

To Nezumi, this was not necessary.

But even after his yell, Shion still continues to care. He then spontaneously decided to teach Shion how to dance.

To me, this dance was basically a show of their life together from the night that they met to now.

They start off with Nezumi asking if Shion has any experience in dancing, he says no.

Here I think it’s a reflection of his naivety of the world outside of No.6, with Nezumi saying he’ll teach him some basic steps, like he’ll give him the introduction of The West Block.

“Don’t look down.”

I highly imagine this being a direct reference to Nezumi saying, “Don’t look away, look at the world in-front of you.” We know he has said this to Shion many times.

Shion then says to cut it out, how it’s useless, and gives a few excuses on why they should stop dancing, like the times Shion would be on the verge of breaking down, saying how it’s useless, and was willing to give up. But a few words from Nezumi, became his guideline, and helped him overcome it. He stumbles and is slow to keep up, due to this being a whole new experience for him. It’s hard to take in.

As time goes on, Shion’s understanding of Nezumi and how he views the world becomes clearer and clearer. The more they dance, the more he understands. He is watching, seeing the world in Nezumi’s POV, he is empathising with him.

“Dance…dance, Shion.”

Nezumi encourages Shion to live in this new world.

After they finished dancing, Shion is out of breath, and laments how hard dancing actually is, saying he learned something new. Shion is huffing and puffing, while Nezumi is, assumedly, all right. This basically proves the point Nezumi wanted to make, to not worry for him, since he’s basically been doing this all his life.

He does not need the care and the love.

But even after all that, Shion still does anyway.

It’s a direct retelling of their story, and I had never noticed the underlying meaning behind the dance. I had first watched it in the anime and thought the scene was done so beautifully. I had recognised the purpose of them dancing through the West Block, like a show of their life spent with each other. Then I read the manga and novel, which I read through quickly without much thought since its a scene i’ve seen many times.

I played it off as a wonderful iconic scene in the novel, a show of love and intimacy. But what I didn’t know was how much it was a representation of the journey they had up to this point in time. Not only did it show their dynamic and connection, it was like watching them both reflect on the impacts they had on each other.

It was an amazingly written scene and I’m glad it is in the story.

｡.:*☆

If you have read this far THANK YOU SO MUCH GENUINELY um I really hope this was easy to read and understand, i still dont rlly know the mechanics around here, so if u had a hard time reading it, or some feedback, or maybe ur personal input on the dance scene, FEEL FREE TO LEAVE A COMMENT !! <3

i have a test tmr im supposed to be studying for and here i am talking abt nezushi sigh they have taken over my brain TvT

#no.6 #nezushi #nezumi #shion #nezumi no.6 #shion no.6 #analysis

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thatweeboverthereisthirsty · 7 months ago

Note

May i request this but with jack, jamil, and trey? (If u can leona too but if not im totally okay with those three cuz i simp for them so hard lol) gn! Pretty plz and thank you :D

I actually think it's been over a year since this ask appeared in my inbox... I have been considering shutting this blog down but at this point I think it's dead in the water anyways 😭... um enjoy?

Jack is a pretty large guy so that being said he doesn’t shirk his responsibilities when it comes to taking care of his partner

Not only is he extremely careful before and during the act, he is incredibly attentive to your needs afterwards

He always takes care of you first and himself afterwards no matter how uncomfortable it may be

Jack always starts with asking you how you are feeling and what-if anything-you could possibly want or need at that moment

Only then does he start futsing around the room looking for stuff and cleaning up

He wants to give you a second to just rest afterwards and he’s tired himself but as soon as he comes off the high all he can see is his partner looking tired and disheveled and he immediately wants to fix that

After waiting patiently and somewhat painfully for you to come down and finish resting he quickly swoops in and does all the rest for you

Bath? Check. Cozy towel large enough to drown you in? Check. Fresh bedding and blankets so you can rest again when clean? Check. Clothes in the laundry? Check. Fresh comfy clothes ready for you in the bathroom? Check.

This man is so shy he gets the bath ready for you and then leaves, telling you to lock the door as if anyone could get past him

It’s almost like he didn’t just see you fully bare

You have to ask him to come in and wash your hair otherwise he will wait outside to make sure you feel comfortable and that you have your own privacy

All in all: a big softie who loves you too much to put into words

Trey is another softie when it comes to aftercare

He is one of the most considerate and kind individuals you will ever meet (at NRC that is)

Regardless he is exceptionally thoughtful and would NEVER let you go without some sort of care after doing it

Trey prefers to move you off the bed for aftercare because he doesn’t want you to sit in the potentially dirty sheets for too long

He thinks it’s very important that you clean yourself off thoroughly after sex

He will run a bath or start a shower or whatever you prefer and ask if you would like his help or some privacy

If you ask for help he will be very respectful as if your body doesn’t affect him at all (although you know better) and carefully soap up a rag and wipe you down\

He is the kind of man that has chemical free soaps for situations where you might have to wipe down more intimate areas to avoid potentially irritating them

And you will clean those intimate areas as he will clean his as well, not because he is a germ freak, he just gets concerned about infections: your health is always the most important thing to him

His next step will always be changing the sheets while you are still showering or bathing, he wants you to be able to relax on a fresh bed while he pampers you

After that? It’s all up to what you are interested in, a massage, reading, watching tv, just relaxing? You got it

Of course he will have a sweet treat prepared along with a second glass of water (cause you know he made you drink one immediately afterwards)

You have to get some sugar and energy into your system after exerting so much energy and he is firm in this belief no matter how energized you feel afterwards

Overall he is a 10/10 in and out of bed

Jamil is less flexible when it comes to aftercare, not in a bad way, he is just very set in what he believes you need and will require that you let him take care of you that way or he WILL refuse further intimacy

(He’s manipulative like that)

All that said it’s really all because he’s used to dealing with Kalim who doesn’t take his own health into consideration nearly enough as he should and his controlling tendencies typically make themselves known when it comes to aftercare

He has very specific steps that he follows and really you should just let him because they are all catered to your needs and health

Everytime you guys are together he has some level of preparation: there's a snack and water on the bedside table and a rag in a dish of warm water, and a clean dry one to follow

He will wipe you down nearly immediately afterwards no matter how tired he is, he cannot allow you to be sticky or get an infection

You are allowed to relax and rest with him in bed after that but only afterwards

But not for too long because Scarabia is very hot and if you guys are in his room he wants to change the sheets as soon as possible and he does this by running you a bath in his private bathroom

He adds a sensitive-skin chemical-free bath bomb and allows you to just relax for a hot second while he cleans up his room

Of course he checks in with you every few minutes because Kalim fell asleep in the bathtub once and now he fears you might do the same and accidentally slip under

When he has finished cleaning the room he turns his full attention to you, making sure you are washed and dried with gentleness and accuracy

His special form of aftercare though is something completely unique to him

He wants to do your hair

It doesn’t matter what color, length, type at all he will know how to take care of it and will do so with surprising care

He uses a quiet blow dryer/diffuser and combs out your hair till it's perfectly untangled

He uses scalp oils and hair mousse and anything else he feels the need to add and afterwards sometimes depending on how he feels he will add little braids and charms

Jamil misses doing his own hair every morning before he learned how to do it with magic, it was how he relaxed and prepared himself for another long day at work. It was something he could take his time in and be as controlled or as free as he wanted with it, so of course he wants to give you the experience he loved do much

Another 10/10 with aftercare and general caretaking but that was to be expected from someone as prepared as Jamil

Ok don’t get me wrong, Leona cares a ton, he just has no clue what he is doing at all

He is still ridiculously sweet in his own gruff “I’m pretending I don’t care about you but if you so much as wince I’ll carry you everywhere for a week” sort of way

Definitely did not pay attention in Sex-ed so he doesn’t know squat past the basics of the actual act

He is naturally prone to foreplay to some degree so it’s not so bad the first few time you do it

After that one time you disappeared into his bathroom for a while and confessed that you were a little sore the next day he freaked out…on the inside

He maybe sort of gently refused sex for a little while out of concern and confusion

Once he realized he couldn’t just ignore the problem and wait for it to go away he resigned himself to researching aftercare methods

He was hesitant to try them out at first but still made an effort

Started with having some water by his bed for you or offering to let you take a bath and slowly but surely got better

His care is still pretty minimal though, it pretty much consists of getting you clean and comfortable and then cuddling with you until he decides it's acceptable for you to leave

Despite this, he is always careful with you even when he is being “rough”, he wouldn’t admit it but you are his world and if he ever did anything to you by accident, he would be devastated

Side Note: Ruggie refuses to change Leona’s sheets unless paid now so he always teases you afterwards but doesn’t really mind cause he’s getting something out of it lol

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #jamil x reader #trey clover x reader #trey clover #trey x reader #twst jamil viper #twst trey clover #jack howl x reader #jack howl #twst jack howl #leona kingscholar x reader #twst leona kingscholar #leona x reader

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spookyji · 1 year ago

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# sending beomgyu a nude

(nsfw + minors dni. ig i should finish all members LOL if i’ve done soogyu now hrmm) messy chocolate brown hair, bangs wet as they drape over his forehead, beomgyu’s lazy gaze into the mirror, a slight smirk on his lips as he presses send,,, after all, what a waste of his workout if he didn’t put it to good use, sending mirror selfies, pumped biceps on display and a touch of tongue visible between his parted lips,,, beomgyu knows when he’s a treat~ a half hearted glance at his watch when he knows he has an hour left before he can go while he waits for your reply,,,

and his mind wanders,,, bet you’re still tangled up in his sheets, just the way he left you earlier, a mess of your arousal glistening on his lips before leaving for the gym. his fingers twitching with impatience at the read at the bottom of his image texts. ‘m waiting, beomgyu mutters to no one in particular, making me wait so long, honey,,,

so mean, gyu, your text reads, attached to what he’s been so patiently waiting for, a smirk drawn on his lips with satisfaction. sleepy selfies from his bed, tugging up his shirt to show your pretty body, traces of him painted across your skin. messy hickeys splotchy on your body, one beneath your soft tits, another marring your soft stomach, others spread out wherever his teeth could find he hadn’t marked up as his yet in his insatiable biting,,, fresh but light bruises on your neck in the shapes of his fingers, his fingers almost feeling the soft column of your neck beneath his fingertips at the sight of his work. beomgyu slowly draws a breathy pant, his eyes meeting his reflection with, a stiffening bulge so evident in his workout shorts

should i wait for u, mirror selfie of his thighs spread to show his bulge, veins lacing his forearms as he grabs at his thigh, adam’s apple tilted up as he teasingly smirks into the camera, maybe i’ll make u suffer without me. not like he means it anyways, a low groan emanating from his throat as beomgyu’s eyes roam your photo so greedily, sticky, sweaty feeling enhanced by the hot irritation beneath his skin. a soft ding catches his attention n he swallows hard, impulsively grabbing his sweats to tug on,,, after all, can’t have you starting without him.

not gonna leave any for u then, fingers spreading your dripping pussy, threatening to leave him out as you push a pillow between your plush thighs as his replacement. as if he’d miss out to a fucking pillow.

#txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #txt smut #beomgyu smut #gyu <3

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willowfey · 2 months ago

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ok nobody asked for them but also nobody can stop me so here are my overly sappy completely self indulgent please talk to me about them

tedependant headcanons 🫶🏻

• ted wants to be obsessed with someone. like that one post said he’s a THAT’S MY WIFE guy without a wife, so once trent enters, it’s like. his new passion project is just Being The Best Partner He Can Possibly Be and trent finds it so impossibly endearing (they’re obsessed with each other anyway, it’s fine). their relationship is so healthy tho despite the obsessive aspects bc it’s like. their goal is to have the best relationship and so they simply just Will.

• ted loves baking for him (and rebecca), but he also just loves feeding him in general. loves packing his lunch for him when he has somewhere to go, cuts his sandwiches into cute shapes and sends him with a note. he’s always finding new recipes, new ways to make it cute and fun. it’s entirely unnecessary but it always makes trent smile, which of course makes it very necessary in ted’s eyes.

• the way ted’s voice went all high in the scene where he goes “yeah, but he’s our dork” about trent, that’s like. a thing. if ted is feeling flustered/affected his voice goes a little high and that’s a dead giveaway. trent doesn’t realise this at first until one day he asks someone “do you think ted actually likes this shirt or do you think he’s just being nice i’m not so sure” and they go “what? he loves it, didn’t you hear his voice go up?” and it’s like a lightbulb moment of New Things To Ponder Over About Ted. the only reason he never noticed it before is because it was always directed at him and that makes things fuzzy. (trent puts on one of ted’s shirts the morning after he stays over for the first time and ted’s voice goes higher than the kettle and trent is like ahhhhh okay)

• trent likes to read aloud to him. on opposite ends of the couch facing each other with their legs intertwined, in bed side by side with the lamp on, sitting cross legged on a stool while ted takes a bath after a long day. u know that poem about…. asking for a glass of water not because ur thirsty but because u just want the hand attached to the glass? ted never remembers the plots of the stories trent reads. which is good, actually, because that means he can listen to him tell them again and again.

• they’re both dorks. they both love getting Really Into something and analysing it and finding the joy in it and it’s about the THEMES and the PARALLELS, trent is a writer and ted is ted, so they definitely get VERY into tv shows. like, binge watching and making it their whole personality. sometimes beard is invited over for watch parties if it’s smth he’s into, other times it’s just them, but they WILL be extra about it and make themed snacks. and speaking of trent being a writer, u know the second he found out about ao3 it became his new favourite thing. he’s the one writing those beautiful poetic character study fics that make u cry at 3am, mostly bc the main character reminded him of his husband but u don’t need to know that. (sometimes trent lets him read it and ted always acts as though he’s the most talented writer on the planet and “those guys should hire you ya know, you know their characters better than they do!”)

• ted loves playing with trent’s hair. it’s smth he always loved with michelle too, and smth he rly missed when they stopped being intimate. it’s relaxing to him, and he loves knowing it makes the other person feel good too. at first he thought maybe he would always associate it with her, but whenever they’re laying together and he’s running his fingers through trent’s hair, he’s the only person he could possibly be thinking about.

• when ted is having a panic attack, trent is the only one he wants around. something about his voice is just soothing and grounding. trent gives him space, doesn’t crowd him or anything, just keeps talking to him smoothly until his breathing finally evens out. if ted is at work and trent isnt there (he usually is, but sometimes he’s not), and smth makes him overly anxious, someone else might call trent and just hand the phone to ted, knowing he’ll be able to talk him through it. (yes my word choice was on purpose. and ted will find he is very good at this in all scenarios.)

• ted loves to just. say what he’s thinking. like sometimes they’ll be talking and ted will go “i’m sorry to cut you off, i promise the interruption will only last a second, i just wanted to tell you that your eyes look all starry in this lighting, especially with the colour of your shirt makin them pop, and it’s just a little distracting is all. but i am very interested in what you have to say so please continue” and trent is just. so taken aback every time. and then he kinda fumbles is words and takes a minute to regain his focus bc wtf was he even saying?? how is he supposed to focus now with ted literally staring into his eyes like that, what the hell

• trent finds his humour so stupidly delightful, not because the jokes are actually funny, but because it’s ted. if he’s out by himself and someone says smth that sets it up, trent will be thinking “this is what ted would say right now” and make the joke himself in his head. later he’ll tell him and ted will go “oh no…. you know what this means right??” and trent goes “what??” and ted says, in mock horror, “this means you’re just as bad as me.” and it’s like. are we about to kiss right now???? (answer: yes)

• when trent is home, he lives in silk pajamas with a robe and slippers. ted claims he’s perfectly happy in boxers and a tshirt, but he’s CONSTANTLY stealing the robe bc it’s just so cozyyy. so eventually trent is like fine. and buys him a matching one. and maybeeeee ted also likes the feeling of the silk too…. so now they’re THAT gay couple with matching pajamas and monogrammed robes. (“how else will we know whose is whose??” “well for starters they’re different colours, but i hear you”)

• ted hates tea. everyone knows this. trent tries to tell him that they all taste different, maybe there are some he’d like, but ted insists that there is absolutely NO world in which he’d enjoy drinking that leaf water. trent lets it go, as far as ted is aware. until one day when they’ve been dating for a few months, walking together at a winter market, and trent splits off for a minute to get them a warm drink. ted uses this as an opportunity to buy him that thing at the booth he saw a little ways back for a christmas present (to add to the other 3 he already bought….. listen, he’s enjoying being in a relationship again). anyway trent shows back up with their drinks and says here, try mine, i got their seasonal one. ted tries it and it’s AMAZING. warm and toasty and sweet and cinnamony and creamy, like christmas in a cup. he tells trent as much, and trent just hides his smirk behind his hand. “you like it then?” he asks. “this is damn delicious!” ted says, “what is it?” trent smiles proudly and says “a snickerdoodle chai latte,” “which is….” “tea.”

ted is gobsmacked, bamboozled, he’s been HAD. his world has been flipped upside down by this simple drink, by this very un-simple man who has yet again challenged something that ted was so sure he knew about himself. trent just gives him this cute little squinty eyed face and says “told ya” walking away towards another booth.

and that, actually, is the moment that ted realises this is the love of his life and they’re gonna get married and grow old together

#tedependent #ted lasso #trent crimm #ted x trent #tedtrent #how else do i even tag this tbh ….#i guess that’s it #*#mine #wtf was my tag who even knows #hanaposts

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