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themeraldee · 1 month ago

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The Lucky Winner - Part 3

[Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2] | [AO3]

18+ Only | 10k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 1. Voice kink (very mild mention). Awkward first dates. Awkward dialogue. Messy timeline. Established Relationship. Love confession. Emotional sex. Unhealthy Relationship.

Summary: Your life turns upside down, again, when Homelander reaches out to you asking you out on a date.

Author’s Note: This is set between the events of Part 1 & Part 2. It really is just a self-indulgent excuse to explore some relationship building and dynamics. Lot of awkward dialogue so be warned.

The next time Homelander contacts you it catches you just as off guard as the first time. Maybe even more so. You never expected him to turn up in the first place, let alone be interested in seconds.

Your phone is ringing on the bed and ever since the development from a week ago you’ve been on edge anytime your phone rang. You drop the towel you’re folding back on the pile of unsorted laundry and you nearly dive onto the bed, reaching for your phone. In the panic you drop it about three times, your shaky hands inadvertently playing hot potato.

“Hello?!” You yell into the phone, panicked. You don’t actually end up checking who’s calling, too worried about not accidentally hanging up. Plus it’s not like you could have saved Homelander’s number from a week ago anyway. It showed up as blocked on your phone’s call logs so you had no way to recognise his number.

“Hello there! Nice of you to pick up.” You squeaked in surprise and the voice on the phone turned from chipper to confused. “You okay? You sound a little—” And oh my god, it’s him! You’re talking to Homelander, again. Okay, okay, now it’s time to try and keep calm.

His voice is still gloriously rich and sweet in your ear and here you are about to most likely embarrass yourself again because for the life of you you’re incapable of coming across as calm and collected.

“I’m fine!” You immediately cut him off, your voice shrill and strained. He does not need to know the ins-and-outs of your internal struggle. But either way you’re already doing terribly. Who are you to cut Homelander off mid-sentence? Where are your manners?

“Why are you—um—I mean, is there anything you need?” You clumsily make your way through your response. Definitely not how you wanted to present yourself but it’s a lot better than barely being able to say a word like last time!

“I’m taking you out on a date. Get ready for 7 today.” You heard it. You’re pretty damn sure you heard that right, yet not a single part of you believes what he said.

“Sorry? W-w-what do you mean?” You sputter in confusion, your brain simply not capable of computing this news.

“I mean that I’m taking you out for dinner. What’s hard to understand?” He sounds irritated and your heart is pounding. From so many things at once. How are you meant to process that Homelander contacted you again, is asking you out for a date and now you’ve managed to irk him?!

Before you manage to apologize, following your typical spiel, Homelander continues. “Maybe you don’t know this but it’s kind of what men do when they want to get to know someone. You following yet?”

You ignore the condescending remark and instead you focus on what he’s actually saying.

There may as well be steam coming out of your ears, you genuinely feel like a blushing teenage girl talking to her crush. You’re hot bright red in the face and you feel the literal heat coming off your face.

“Yeah but you’re not—well of course you are—but also you’re not! Y’know, just an average Joe.” How do you go about explaining that you don’t feel worthy of that kind of attention?

“Doesn’t matter, you’re missing the point. Is that a no?” You’d think he would be pissed saying that, who in their right mind would refuse going on a date with Homelander, but he sounds amused more than anything.

Again with the reading you like a book. Because you barely manage to let out a barrage of “No! No no no no— that’s not!” before Homelander starts laughing.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up then.”

“No, wait! I can’t—I can’t do the public thing. You’re you! And as soon as I show up in public with you I won’t be left alone. I know that’s normal for you, but my life isn’t like that. I’m just… me.” You’re just a nobody. You don’t have a social media presence. You don’t bring attention to yourself. And you like to keep it that way. Going on a public date with America’s golden boy himself? You would be ripped apart by the online vultures.

You all but freak out on the phone and for a second you think he disconnected because you can’t hear a thing over the line but he suddenly speaks up.

“Oh well. We can’t have that, can we? You better have dinner ready at your place instead.” You don’t need to see him to imagine him with the biggest satisfied grin on his face. “I’ll be there at 7. Catch you later!”

Homelander hangs up on you and you hear the disconnected tone ringing in your ear as you stand there like a fish out of water. Mouth gaping open, letting out disbelieving stutters.

You pull the phone away from your ear, looking down at it as if it offended you. It’s then you notice the time. Shit shit shit. You have less than four hours to make your place and yourself presentable, go on a grocery run and start cooking for Homelander?! What just happened!

“Oh no no no no. This is not happening.” You rub your hands over your face as if to wipe the shock off your face. You’re so overwhelmed with the rollercoaster of emotions that you don’t know whether to have a panic attack, laugh nervously or downright cry.

Okay, first of all the pile of laundry is gonna have to wait. You don’t have the time to meticulously fold your t-shirts and panties. You gather up the clean and dry laundry into your hands, haphazardly shoving it into the closet before closing the door on what will be an avalanche of laundry for your future self to deal with.

With pure panic-induced energy that you haven’t felt in a long while you manage to just about make your place presentable within an hour. Finally managing to gather and clean up the mugs and glasses that have been cluttering up your surfaces, making your bed all neat and tidy—just in case—and shoving all unnecessary clutter into cupboards. It’s not like Homelander would use his x-ray vision to judge the inside of your cabinets, would he?

Speeding your way out of your apartment you make your way over to the closest shop. Standing in the fresh produce aisle you suddenly realize you don’t actually have a plan. What the fuck are you meant to cook for Homelander?! Even after all the content you’ve consumed you’re pretty sure there’s not a single mention of his favorites. At least ones he’s not been sponsored to promote. Sure, he’s on many products, ranging from frozen peas to whole milk but that doesn’t mean it’s something he genuinely endorses. After all you want to get to know the man behind the costume, a date is not meant to be just another PR interview for him!

You’re starting to look strange. People are passing you while you’re internally panicking over what to buy. What if he’s allergic to something? What if he goes into anaphylactic shock and fucking dies! Even if you had an EpiPen or he carried it on him you wouldn’t be able to stab it into him anyway. And suddenly you’ve killed the world’s most beloved superhero and you’re spending the rest of your life in jail with Vought most certainly making sure you pay your dues. Even if all of that was true you had no way of knowing. It’s not like Vought would ever leak that kind of information. Not very good for their brand to tweet that their best superhero is allergic to fucking nuts!

You shake your head a little, snapping yourself out of your dazed state. If Homelander’s brand is anything it’s that red-blooded American male perfect standard. Surely he wouldn’t complain about some steak dinner right? Men love steaks! You just make sure to avoid most common allergens. You pick up some potatoes and other vegetables to roast along with a good pricey cut of steak that was easily out of your budget.

You get home just as fast and with each passing second you’re more and more on edge. You don’t know whether it’s the anxiety coiling in your guts or the so called ‘butterflies’ but you’ve never been this nervous before. With the clock ticking and the food cooking you’re suddenly more and more paranoid over everything. From your insane Homelander merch collection to even just the furniture you’ve got! Not that that’s anything you can change in the next hour but your mind is running at a hundred miles an hour and you’re trying to account for everything.

Just before it gets to the agreed time you change into something nice but casual, straight after shoving the laundry avalanche back into its place. You even leave the balcony door open, doubting he’s gonna knock on your door like a normal person.

And while you’re there focusing on platting up your best attempt at steak and roasted vegetables, you hear the familiar sound of Homelander’s landing. You whip your head towards the wall clock with such urgency it’s shocking you don’t give yourself whiplash.

Shit. It was literally 7pm. You wanted to set the table all pretty and prep it perfectly but you got so preoccupied with the place looking as good as it can that you lost track of time. You’re sure he’s used to luxury and perfection. You want to do your best to replicate that!

“Homelander!” Comes out of you with a little gasp. You tilt your head to look at him. And what you see makes your heart skip a beat.

There he is, in his suited-out glory per usual, except this time he’s holding a bouquet of roses with a dashing smile on his face that quickly turns into a self-satisfied grin as he immediately notices your panic at his presence. Even after he thoroughly reduced you to a puddle of goo just last week you were still such a skittish uncertain thing around him.

“Wow, smells delicious in here.” He looks around taking it in while inhaling the mouth-watering smell of sizzling steak.

Homelander steps closer with calculated steps, checking you out without an ounce of shame. You don’t know if it’s just the pure intensity in his eyes that has you feeling on edge or if he really is undressing you with his gaze. “These,” he frees your hand, prying your palm open with his gloved hand, “are for you.” He places the bouquet of roses into your palm, squeezing it shut around the wrapped stems.

In a way you’re paralyzed. The reality of the situation finally hits you and you realize you’re really here about to have a dinner date with Homelander. Who just brought you expensive, gorgeous flowers, because that’s something that totally happens to people like you.

You’re standing there, staring at the deep rich red of the roses that actually ends up matching the cardigan you put on for this. Your little attempt at complimenting the suit you knew he'd show up in.

Your mind is going a million miles a second and your other hand squeezes a petal in between your fingertips. There’s droplets of water on the velvety surface. You didn’t realize it was raining at the time. You look past him through a window as if you could make out the weather through the darkness of the evening.

Looking at the roses now, they look beautiful, pristine. He flew here right? How did he manage to keep them in one shape with the speeds he flies at.

“H-how did you fly with—” You don’t even finish the question before he’s answering.

“I don’t have to fly at super speeds all the time. You’d think my most loyal fan would know that.”

“You can read minds too?” Falls out of your mouth before you even think about what you're saying.

“No. You’re just very easy to read.” He places his hands on his hips, naturally defaulting to his superhero pose.

And sure, maybe the way your eyes move in between the window, him and the flowers is a dead giveaway but you still don’t think it’s that easy to figure out exactly how your thought process works.

He seems unhappy with your lack of enthusiastic response. He probably expected you to jump at him, wrapping your arms around him in pure glee that he’d do such a romantic thing.

He nodded towards the bouquet, raising his eyebrows.

“Anyway, your flowers. You might want to put them in some water. Unless you plan on fondling each petal all night.” You don’t know whether he said it that way on purpose or if your absurd attraction to his voice is reaching new heights but the imagery that conjures is not one that would belong at a dinner table. There’s a different kind of petal-fondling you have in mind for later.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. And thank you. Really, this is very kind of you. They’re beautiful.” Finally, he’s satisfied with that response, his shoulders relax a bit, his chest puffing out as he sees you hold the flowers closer to you.

You’re all over the place and your movements are in no way elegant or thought out as you awkwardly stumble around, pulling out the biggest glass you could find. This ends up being a large glass measuring jug which you admit looks rather strange, and you don't miss the way he raises his eyebrow at the display.

Well, it was a lot better than if you used the bucket you keep under the sink for cleaning. It’s not like you have a perfect pretty vase ready for this occasion. Until now you didn’t have anyone bringing you flowers and you never really bought any for yourself.

He doesn’t comment on the miserable display. Instead he focuses on how wound up you are.

“Jeez, you’re even stiffer than last time. You know I usually fuck my dates after dinner, but if you need me to loosen you up…” His crude attempt at humor and breaking the ice just has your brain screeching and halting all actions.

“What?! No, nonono. That won’t—That’s not. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. That you’re here.”

“I did tell you I’d come. And I’m pretty sure you’re not plating up two plates for yourself there silly.” He shakes his head while clicking his tongue, as if disapproving of your doubt.

“I mean, I’m surprised that you want to do this. With me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m here aren’t I? Last time I checked I asked you out, not the other way around. And trust me sweetheart, I don’t do shit out of pity.” He walks closer to you, his hand patting the side of your arm, settling his hand there and sliding it up until he reaches your jaw. The leather of his glove is cold, some raindrops still stuck in the crevices.

Although your heart rate picks up, you smile genuinely. Getting the straightforward confirmation that he wants to be here with you warms your heart. “Alright.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have everything ready. I lost track of time. Do you mind just sitting down, I’ll finish up in a second.”

“Yup, can do.” He sits down at the small table slapping his palms on his thighs as he does so. Already peeling his gloves off, discarding the gloves at the edge of the table.

You finish up the plating, trying to make it as neat as possible. You bring the plates over, one in front of him the other right opposite. “Um, do you drink beer? I got some in case you do. I know you do endorse some but I’m sure that doesn’t mean you have to consume it in your free time.”

“No thanks, never got the taste for it. Have you got milk?”

You blank a little at the request. It’s not the typical pairing by any means but who are you to tell him what to like. Instead you comply, tucking away the little preference into the corner of your mind where you keep all your knowledge about him.

“Um, yeah. I do. Again, I got one you’ve done marketing for, just in case you did like it. I wasn’t really sure. Believe it or not there’s a lot I don’t know about you.” You admit. It’s not like everything that his Marketing team puts out is all real. You're sure they leave out any of his actual preferences so future advertisers don't clash with any competition.

“With this logic I’m surprised you didn’t buy the entire store.”

“I was close to it.” You take the carton out of the fridge, shutting the door with your hip. “Do you want it warm or cold?”

“Cold is fine.” You nod, pouring some into a glass placing it in front of him.

As a last touch you take two roses from the huge bouquet, popping them into a narrow tall glass filled with water and you place the romantic decoration to the side of the table before sitting down.

He strangely smiles at the gesture, something about it feeling awfully domestic. It may not be perfectly manicured but it's real and it does the job just as well. It's not a perfect setting made for a photoshoot. You're just trying to impress him with what you've got. All for his enjoyment only. And that alone makes it a lot more special.

Suddenly being right across him really set the reality of the situation. You feel a little awkward about the setting. But there is really only so much you could have done with your small apartment. And it’s not like he hasn’t been here before. He knows what you're working with.

You watch as he cuts into the steak, stabbing it with his fork and bringing a piece to his mouth.

“Wait! You’re not allergic to anything right?!” You suddenly panic, feeling cold sweat pour over you at the thought of your irrational thoughts from earlier coming true.

He looks thoroughly amused but he doesn’t answer and instead just takes the bite.

“Are you always this worried on dates? Or do you get them to fill out a questionnaire beforehand?” He seems to enjoy throwing all these little jabs highlighting how much of a nervous mess you are in his presence.

“I don’t usually cook for my dates on the first date. There’s usually nothing to worry about.”

“I did ask you out for dinner. This is your own doing missy.” He waved his fork at you, pointing at you being the one to blame.

“You think I’m—oh. I’m not complaining about this, oh my god! I just didn’t really know what you like! Surprisingly not a lot about that online. They really know how to keep you a mystery. And even superheroes have allergies! How was I to know whether you’ve got one or not? But even if you did, it’s not like Vought would release that information.” You ramble on, trying to explain yourself but you’re really just digging yourself a deeper hole. Not that Homelander looks particularly put off. If anything, the amused grin spreads to both corners of his mouth.

“You know I’m not here for the food right? Though this is not too bad. Didn’t think you had it in you.” He raises his eyebrows in appreciation.

“I live on my own. I don’t know why you’re surprised to learn that I can cook for myself.” You said feigning offense but inside you were squealing at the compliment.

“When’s the last time you’ve had a date?” He changes the topic, with each passing moment he’s less interested in the food and a lot more honed in on you and what little secrets you can let him in on. Though he’s still happily nursing the glass of milk.

“It’s been a while, I guess.” You’re overcome with this anxious feeling in your gut. Is it meant to be a dig at the date you’ve prepared? Is he saying that you’re not desirable enough to be dated?

He catches you off guard with his smug little smile. “Thought so. Guess you’re too busy being my biggest fan, huh?”

You nearly choke on your food, surprised and flustered by his words. The tell-tale sign of heat creeps up your neck and to the tip of your ears in embarrassment. He’s hard to read and you can’t tell whether he’s trying to humiliate you or if he genuinely enjoys the reminder of having someone fawn over him right there and then.

You put your cutlery down, softly clinking it against the plate. “Look, I’m really sorry about all that. I’m a fan but I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were.” The corners of his mouth comically pull down feigning innocence with a shrug.

You playfully roll your eyes. “You insinuated. I’m just saying I wouldn’t have all this stuff out if I knew you’d ever see it!” You wave your arm in the general direction of the rest of your humble apartment. Still littered with Homelander merch. If you had more time to prepare for the date you would have maybe even taken some of it down. Replace some posters with photos of friends or family, making you appear a lot more put together. But alas, your guilty pleasure is still blatantly obvious and out for anyone to see. It's all the worse that in this case it’s being seen by the featured star of your guilty pleasure himself.

“There’s no shame in being a fan.”

“No, but it’s different to collect memorabilia and merchandise of a beloved superhero that you don’t ever expect to witness the madness and to actually have him see it all and feel objectified. As if all there was to him is just the plastic he can sell with his face on it.”

You don’t know why you’re getting into the heavy-duty topic of someone’s worth and value but maybe part of you just wants to present yourself as someone who cares. Someone who looks beyond the obvious.

Homelander is similarly perturbed by your words. Clearly not used to fans taking such direction with him. Thinking about it you doubt he hears more from them beyond a predictable can I have a selfie?

He furrows his eyebrows for a second tilting his head. As if he’s trying to look into your brain to read your mind. And sure he can literally see inside your skull but it doesn’t help him understand your thoughts. So instead he digs deeper. Putting the glass of milk down he looks you straight in the eyes.

“You don’t think that’s it?”

His resolute question makes you pause, feeling as if you overstepped. And even if, there’s no way to backtrack anymore so you continue. “O-of course not. I know you’re more than what Vought puts out there.”

You’ve spent countless hours following the content Vought markets out to the public. All of it manicured to match his perfect brand and profile. They’re slick enough to control even the content fans put out. From conventions to random street encounters. You remember following a thread of an anonymous fan sharing their experience of getting barraged by Vought’s lawyers after they shared a post about a poor experience they had meeting one of their superheroes. You haven’t heard an update from that story in a while, god knows what happened to the fan. Maybe Vought’s lawyers managed to get their anonymous account too.

“How would you know?” Irritation seeps into his tone, shoulders tensing, feeling exposed right before he slides back into his normal casual tone and body language as if remembering that he’s meant to be talking to a date and not some nosy interviewer trying to get the next scoop.

“I mean who hasn’t put up a face to show the world their perfect self? Whether it’s on dates or in front of friends. I just imagine that doing that in front of the whole world means there’s a lot you feel like you have to hide.” With each word you feel like you’re digging yourself a hole, ruining any chance of another date. But you’ve started saying your piece and when else are you gonna get the chance to tell the man exactly how you feel?

So you continue.

“I just think it has to be exhausting. Your entire job, your life is existing in the public eye and you can’t ever slip up? Not super-abled celebrities deal with that already but for you there’s the added burden of being seen as the superhero right? ‘Here to save us all’. I just mean, do you ever get to be yourself?”

You mean to be sympathetic, not that you could ever imagine what it’s like to be in his shoes. Being as obsessed as you are, you've watched all the footage with him. You notice how often the same lines repeat, how well he’s perfected the mask of a perfect hero. The fake humble you’re the real heroes being repeated in every video and appearance. If it was you, you know you’d have enough a while ago now. The daily grind of a job is exhausting enough but to do that all under the public’s scrutiny? You couldn’t even imagine.

You were so lost in your little monologue, spilling all the little thoughts you had about him and his persona that you miss how his casual demeanor has once again shifted into something else. He’s less irritated but he’s tense. Even more so than before. He wears an expression you’re pretty sure you’ve not seen on him before. His jaw may not be dropped but his surprise and confusion is evident without it.

He’s speechless. Thinking about it now, has anyone ever spoken to him in such manner before?

You watch his body language and the way he’s squeezing the fork so hard you’re sure he’s bent the metal.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. It’s just once I get going I can’t stop!”

He lets out a breathless little laugh. His shoulders release in tension. He stops gripping the cutlery and sure enough it has a bend that definitely wasn’t there before but you don’t care. He’s not pissed. He raises his free hand waving you off and stopping you from apologizing any further. Something you’ve managed to do about a hundred times since his arrival.

“No. No, it’s fine. You didn’t.” He shakes his head a little, looking at you with a different look in his eyes. No longer just looking for a little bit of excitement, now he’s truly locked in. What else can he get you to say? “Well maybe you did a little, but color me intrigued anyway.”

He looks at you in a way that makes you feel small. You feel like you’re on your knees praying for your god to hear out your prayers knowing it’s unlikely for him to even notice you.

“Can't say I've heard any of that before.” He concludes, slumping back into the chair now that he's relaxed again, having lost all interest in the food you've served up.

You’re embarrassed by the call out. It’s like all your efforts to not appear like another crazy fan have been pointless. He might not seem angry but that doesn’t mean he’s about to jump at the thought of another date. You may have ruined your chances at this being anything more than mild entertainment to him so you try to save yourself. “I just mean. I have always wanted to get to know you. The you without the cameras.”

“You already have. I don’t go on dates with many fans, believe it or not. And I gotta say you’re a lot more interesting than I gave you credit for.”

And maybe it wasn’t such a lost cause yet. Have there been many people that Homelander has ever found genuinely interesting? You wouldn’t know but at least you’re one of them.

“Oh…ah-hah thank you.” You fluster under his heavy gaze. His words make your heart skip a beat. There’s very little that can match the euphoria of your hero, the hero really, saying he finds you interesting. It’s hard to calm the pounding of your heart at the thought of a man of his caliber seeking your company out.

After all you’ve managed to blurt out you feel more at ease. It’s not awkward like you expected it to be. In a way you’ve broken the ice you didn’t know was even there.

With you both losing interest or having had enough of your meals you move to the small but comfortable couch. And like any good dinner and movie date you put on the first title that gets advertised to you on the main page of the Vought+ streaming platform.

In reality the movie doesn’t get watched. Either you let it play in the background or you pause on sections just so you can continue the conversation between the two of you. And somehow it’s still mainly you literally just rambling on about him. It’s not that he doesn’t talk or doesn’t ask questions about you but you see the way he preens at all the enamored praise you send his way.

The only parts that do get watched is the small cameo Homelander ended up having in the title and the conversation steers back to him. He gives you all the details you ask for, more than happy to talk about how great of an actor he is.

With each minute of sitting close to him you feel your body respond to him. You feel hot. Too warm for the cardigan you’re wearing but you don’t want to seem too forward by taking it off. Especially after knowing what kind of trouble he could get up to in between your legs it makes it very hard to accidentally brush against his thigh and not spontaneously combust.

Homelander turns around to look back into the room while you’re dealing with your internal turmoil. Would it be too unseemly for you to initiate?

Your thoughts are interrupted when his bare hand cradles your jaw, bringing you in for a kiss. The whimper you let out is embarrassing but you quickly lose track of anything that’s not his hot lips melting you into a puddle. Just as things are about to get good, just when you’re about to pry his lips open with your needy tongue he pulls away. He doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his hot breath while he rests his forehead against yours.

“I’ll have to set off. I need to get back to Vought tower.” He hums so close to you that you get goosebumps from the way his voice turns all low and hushed. Even though the words he’s saying are anything but good news, the attractive sound still soothes you.

“Oh-kay.” You nod. A little sad but understanding that he’s got things to get to. Every part of you is holding back from pulling him in for more but as much as your fingers twitch for him you restrain yourself.

“Come on now. Don’t sound so upset.” He gives your cheek a soft little pat before placing another peck on your lips with a chuckle from behind his closed lips.

The taste of your lips pulls him in anyway and he holds you close for a few more indulgent kisses. Upon separating you’re warm and flustered. His touch always seems to have that effect on you.

“It's just… I had a lot of fun today.” And you don't want it to be over or for it to be the last time you see him. But how do you ask him out?

While your limbs still feel like jelly, having melted into the couch, he stands up, walking over to the little dining table where he left his discarded gloves, pulling them back on.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll be back.” He clearly reads your expression and watches as you stumble while getting up, clearly wanting to see him out before he flies off.

His words alone are good enough to lift your spirits and you let yourself show that joy outwardly.

“Thanks for today.” When’s the last time you’ve ever felt this in the moment? Even if he never came back this moment would easily be a highlight you look back on.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” As if he couldn’t restrain himself his eyes snapped in between your eyes and lips, his eyelashes fluttering, lips parting as he took in the sight of you. So eager to please and be there for him. He wets his lips and your stomach flips at the display. The pink of his tongue disappearing as quickly as it appears.

His eyes soften, lips stretching into a lazy lopsided smile.

“Do I get a goodbye kiss?”

And just like that with one last kiss he’s off again, returning to his duties.

This isn’t where things end with you two. If anything, your life takes a massive turn. It’s not been the same ever since you’ve won that silly competition. And it strangely makes you want to send a gift basket to whoever organized it, no matter how much you dislike Vought itself.

At first he comes back to you seeking comfort.

He strolls in through your balcony door which you’ve gotten into the habit of leaving unlocked—just in case. It’s not like there’s anyone else eager to fly into your home. You awake at the disruption, eyes bleary and straining in the harsh light of the nightstand lamp you’ve turned on to see what’s going on.

He doesn’t explain himself as much as he just vents to you about how he’s not being respected and taken seriously. It’s the first time he’s been back since your date and you’re surprised to see him so emotive. So unlike the perfect persona or even the carefully charming guy he presented himself as during your date.

He’s already pacing back and forth, the thud of his boots bound to disturb your neighbors below. Not that either of you care. He’s too preoccupied with being angry. And you’re too frazzled by the thought of something upsetting your hero to this degree.

You see the angry tremor in his hands and the sharpness of his teeth, highlighted by the yellow night light. You snap out of the sleepy daze and you catch his gloved hand when he paces in front of you.

You pull him down next to you, cooing supportive words and showing your own anger at seeing him be so disrespected by Vought. You believe they don’t know how lucky they are to have someone like him. They should revere him, yet the things he lets slip in his anger make your chest tight, fueling the rage simmering inside you.

It’s like seeing you riled up at the way he’s being mistreated is enough to calm him down. The more you seethe the more he cools down, the energy exchange working in between you perfectly. He’s pleased to have someone in his corner. Preening at how much you parrot the words he’s saying without needing to nudge you in that direction.

Swoop-in visits like these happen more regularly. Either he comes in irritated wanting to get some frustration and anger out, fucking you throughout the night until all he can think of are your moans and cries telling him it’s too much.

Or he comes in happy, excited to share the news that his numbers are up or that the public and the on-scene reporters couldn’t stop praising him after his latest save. Those days he comes in for affection and a cuddle, wanting to hear over and over again just how well he’s done since you’ve last seen him. Treating you less like a stress ball and more like a teddy bear he’s hugged against his chest in comfort.

You start thinking how lonely he must feel. The thought that there aren’t any people around him showering him with genuine love and friendship hurts you and suddenly you want nothing more than to keep him here with you, making sure he knows just how special he is.

As much as you’ve always been devoted to this god-like being and the idea that he represented, you never got to love the person. Until now. Now the ideology alone has seeped into your never ending love, fueling the suffocating adoration you hold for him. So strong it’s eating away at you anytime you don’t get the chance to scream how much you love him.

You used to see these late night visits as something he does for his own benefit. With you always being the easiest and most effective balm to his troubled soul. You didn’t think he was serious with you. After all, this is the Homelander you’re spending every other evening with.

So when he sends you flowers out of nowhere, effectively courting you, you start thinking that this might be turning into something real.

It starts with the first delivery at your door. A gorgeous bouquet bursting at the seams, tagged with a note saying it’s from Homelander. Since then he’s made sure to supply you with the most beautiful bouquets as if to keep a reminder of him on a daily basis. You finally invest in a pretty vase, knowing it’s going to be thoroughly used and displayed.

Your home always had touches of Homelander throughout it—some might even say too many. However, as your relationship grows you come to a realization that those really only represent Vought. It’s these new touches that really represent Homelander’s presence in your life. Like how he times the flower deliveries just right so your place is never empty. Always there to remind you to keep him at the forefront of your mind. Never wavering.

You two haven’t officially said that you’re dating throughout these nighttime visits but it’s at the tip of your tongue each time he comes. You want to voice the love you carry for him like a burden. Overflowing from your arms with nowhere to go. And it feels like each second you don’t say it, it’s being uselessly spilled on the floor like sand falling from in-between your fingers.

Homelander has his own way of showing affection. Seeing as so much of his life has been in front of some sort of camera you wonder if thinking in advertising scripts and photoshoot visuals comes to him more naturally than casual and real gestures. As ever since he started with the flower deliveries he’s been showering you with gifts upon each visit. As if everyday had to be Valentine’s day and he had to bring something to symbolize the reason for his visit.

You call him out on that one day.

“You know you don’t have to bring anything right? You don’t need to bribe me.” You chuckle at the gift box he brought with him. You’ve got dozens of similar gift boxes and bags that you feel reluctant to get rid of mainly for the sentimental value but the retail price associated with the gift they hold certainly doesn’t help.

He clasps the gifted necklace around your neck. The dainty chain lays cold against your skin and your fingers gently caress the pendant with care. Your statement still rings true but you can’t help but feel giddy every time he brings you something he thought would look great on you.

“Do you not like the things I bring you?” With a perplexed expression you see him trying to do mental math, trying to figure out why you could possibly not kneel or bow in gratitude. He watches you play with your new pretty jewelry with a squint.

“No! It’s all beautiful—this one especially—just. I don’t want you to feel like that’s an obligatory part of you being here.” You laugh it off a little, still dreamily thinking about what it really means to get pampered to this degree.

He breaks your thoughts with a simple sentence.

“Maybe I want to treat my girl.”

Your eyes widen, and you let out a shocked stuttered breath.

“Your girl?”

“Yeah, duh.” He scoffs as if what he said is as obvious as the sky being blue and water wet.

“Because you’re mine, right?” You don’t see the way his eyes reflect his own complicated and simmering feelings. The tension in his jaw betrays how he needs you to acknowledge his words and speak them into an existence. But you don’t notice any of that because it’s like the dam you’ve been doing your best to hold together with safety pins finally bursts.

You’re nodding feverishly. No longer able to hold back you’re possessed to blurt out the words that have been threatening to fall off the precipice of your tongue for weeks.

“I love you.”

Homelander’s eyes widen. Surprised by your admission just as much as you are. Your heart is racing, suddenly feeling insane for thinking this was anything more than simple fun to him. The knee-jerk response to apologize spills easily from your lips.

“I’m sorry—,” but instead he interrupts you by cradling your jaw in his bare hands, stepping closer.

“Don’t be sorry.” He says in a low rumble, sending shivers down your spine. He leans in to give you a tender kiss. Just barely slotting in between your parted lips, pressing them against his. Before you get the chance to continue he pulls away with enough distance to speak up.

He breathes out, eyes squeezed shut in longing which to an untrained eye would just look like pure pain and frustration. But not to you. You’ve learned to read him better.

He nuzzles his face against yours, dragging his lips across your cheek until he reaches your ear, growling a weak, “say it again.”

You’ve partially gotten used to the timbre of his voice in your ear. Capable of having a conversation without getting worked up by every word he says but the way he’s now needily begging in your ear has your body erupt in goosebumps. He doesn’t need to say please for you to hear it anyway.

“I-I love you.” You whimper out. The emotion alone feels thick in your throat, as if it was clogging up your airways anytime you come up for air. Your heart is pounding, you’re strung up, the butterflies in your stomach make you antsy.

His hold on your jaw tightens. With a sharp intake of breath he smashes your lips together. No longer composed and tender. Your teeth nearly clash as he’s pressed you close to him. He’s prying your lips open with his, his whimpers easily falling into the press of your lips.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

You don’t want to cry but you’re so overwhelmed with emotion the burn that turns your eyes glassy spills over and you’re dripping tears down your cheeks in pure emotional instability.

“Again.”

And each time he asks he sounds more wrecked.

“I love you.”

Homelander catches the tears with his tongue right before kissing the salty taste into your mouth. Not letting any of your love get wasted. You grab onto him, grasping where you can. Your hands tangle in between his as you wrap them around his neck. One hand grips as much of the fabric of his suit it can while the other tangles in his hair, pulling on it for support more than anything.

You feel like you’re drowning. The intensity of the moment makes you gasp for air but it’s like Homelander kisses it back into your lungs like a lifeline. Hearing his shattered whimpers soothes you, his own need fueling yours, filling the void your tears are leaving behind.

He lifts you up and with practiced ease you automatically wrap your legs around him.

He leads you both to the bedroom while he’s continuously prompting you to continue declaring your love to him. Each again, again, again you reward with the three words that make him feverish and mad. The more you say it the less your heart feels like it’s about to explode from the burden it’s been carrying for too long.

Homelander quite literally rips your clothes off, not caring that he’s leaving his own recent purchases in tatters. He doesn’t want to separate his lips from your neck where he’s kissing trails across each inch of your skin.

You don’t have the luxury to treat his suit with the same carelessness. Even if you wanted to, the tough molded material would make it impossible. Instead you do what you can. Unclasping his belt, pulling at the front of his suit, pushing his pants down where you can reach.

He helps you with taking off the rest of it until he’s on top of you, skin to skin. You rarely get the luxury of lying with him fully stripped and each time you’re shocked at how hot he runs. Now his hot body is making you melt under the heat alone.

Neither of you have stopped kissing with the same intense need that has been laying there dormant for months. Anytime you have the chance you repeat the same words over and over again until they’re all you know how to say.

It’s the first time sex has felt anything more than a physical relief he comes to you for. You’re barely keeping it together as he nudges your legs a little open, sliding his hand down your body, his palm blazing hot as the anticipation makes you clench your core.

It’s by no means either one of your first times, nor it is the first time you’ve been together yet you’ve never felt more nervous. The first touch he descends onto your clit feels like a lightning bolt crackling down your spine, spreading the tingles out to your toes and fingertips.

“Ahh hah—fuck. Want it so bad, don’t you?” He looks as broken as he sounds when he hisses at the feeling of your soaked pussy. It makes his fingers glide too easily, making it harder to give your clit the precise rhythm he’s learned to make you see stars with.

His attempt at his normal dirty talk is disrupted by his keen moans and broken whimpers. Part of you wonders whether his super senses include being able to feel other people’s sensations with the way he’s acting as if it was him getting his body set on fire.

You hum and ahh in response, your tongue feeling incapable of saying anything but the words you’ve been finally allowed to repeat over and over again.

His fingers easily slip inside the sloppy mess you’ve made for him and he moans right into the kiss he leans in to steal from your lips. And it feels good. The friction is perfect, his fingers are hitting the right spot inside you and the loud squelch is embarrassing and intoxicating in equal parts. Yet it’s not what you want.

It takes all your strength to reach down and pull his hand out of you, as instinctively you’re already clenching around the all too familiar emptiness you whine at every other time when he’s done with you.

“I want you. Please. Just you.” You manage to breathe out, your hand reaching over for his hard cock. You give him a few shaky strokes, smearing his leaking precum across the entire length.

“Alright. Uh huh, okay. I’ll give it to you.” And he’s just as out of it as you as his normal cocky one-liners just break into a lot of grunts and stutters.

He wedges himself in between your thighs, spreading them wide open. His lips part with a wistful sigh while his eyes haze over with lust at the sight of your pussy spread ope, generously glistening with slick all made for him.

He aligns his cock with your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. He’s just as strung out as you are. He splits you open with a single thrust, your slick pulling him in with an easy glide.

“I love you.” For the first time the confession spills from Homelander’s lips. A relief just as palpable falls upon him. It’s a different story for you. The words cause more tears to spill, a wet hiccup leaving your throat as you clench around him.

“Shh, shh.” He hushes you sweetly, already reaching back for you.

He lays his body flush on top of yours and kisses your tears away, the heat and weight of his body on top yours grounds you. He repeats the words over and over again in between wet, messy kisses. He ruts into you in shallow thrusts as if he doesn’t want to part from you any second longer.

Nothing in the world exists but you two and neither one of you can believe how perfect you really are for each other. You’ve always felt like the way you love was overwhelming. It left the other person choking on the overwhelming viscosity of it all. Homelander isn’t like that. To him your love is a breath of fresh air.

As long as you love him with the same unyielding intensity he’s yours. At this point, he wouldn’t know how to live without it.

He kisses you in a way that says just that. Needy and broken yet utterly completed by you.

You’re both so worked up with the overflowing emotions it doesn’t take much more than his frenzied grinding to make you both reach the release that’s as emotional as it physical. Maybe even more so.

Because the reward isn’t just a good orgasm. It’s the love that fills the air, spilling into every empty crevice you didn’t manage to fill with your bodies.

Homelander’s whimpers resemble cries as he finishes inside you right as you flutter around him with the toe-curling orgasm wracking your nerves.

It takes you a little while to regain your mental faculties after such an emotionally draining affair. You feel boneless, your limbs feel like jelly and you just lie there dazed. Focusing on the way your heart beats loud even to your ears.

Homelander is doing the same thing. Listening to your heartbeat with his head on your chest.

After a long while you both pull yourself together. Still in bed but now you’ve managed to strike up a normal conversation again. Talking about everything and nothing.

You lie like this for what feels like hours. Having changed positions you rest your head against his chest, ear pressed to his pecs to listen in on the steady beat of his heart.

After this reveal your brain recognizes your relationship as the utmost priority. Because of that your eyes lock onto the Kuddle Buddy plush resting just a foot away from Homelander’s head. As if you were locking onto an enemy. You pluck it from the pillow, squeezing it in your hand.

You’re staring at it, still clutching it too hard.

“What got you thinking so hard? You’re making my head hurt from how tense you are.” Homelander interrupts you from your thoughts.

“Just you. This. I can’t look at this stuff these days without—I don’t know—rage? To know how much Vought has wronged you.” You furrow your eyebrows, assessing the innocent plush toy while it’s staring back at you with its stitched grimace.

“That’s what the toy reminds you of, really? It should remind you of me.”

“It doesn’t anymore.” Your furrowed expression slowly melts into one of content as your hand presses against your new necklace. “Things like these do.”

“And these.” Your fingers continue to travel up your neck where they tap at the darkened patches you feel he has left behind. With soft nipping and sucking he left your neck coloured in all shades.

He plucks the plush toy from your hands, throwing it somewhere across the room with thankfully not enough strength to knock anything else over. You’re pretty damn comfortable and you’d rather not get up to assess any damage.

“Maybe I should give you more reminders then.”

You squeal as he easily pulls you up so his lips can meet yours, kissing your worries out of your mind.

Homelander lands on your balcony with a soft thud. It’s late in the afternoon, earlier than he normally arrives, and he doesn’t want to attract unwanted attention. Already predicting the shit Madelyn would put him through if he got caught regularly perusing outside some random person’s apartment.

His person’s apartment really. You’re not just a random boring nobody.

He makes his way in quietly, closing the door and stepping in. Each time coming back to your apartment has felt more like coming home than he’s ever felt at Vought. You’ve arranged your life around him. He’s noticed you cancel plans, call off events just so you could stay in in the evening, waiting for him to make his return.

You even make space for him in your small apartment. The state of which he’d normally scoff at but it’s hard to mock your financial situation when you manage to make the place feel warm.

His presence left its mark in the gifts you happily displayed or the flowers you always took good care of.

And of course, the insane collection of merchandise you’ve spent years accumulating.

Wait.

Where is everything?

Homelander looks around, breaking out of his routine and instead he scans the surroundings as if it’s the first time he’s ever been here. Only now does he realize that all the usual merchandise carrying his likeness is gone. No posters on the walls. No action figures on the shelves. No funko pops. No collectibles. Nothing.

Homelander feels his blood pressure rise. There’s no way you’d want to get rid of him. Not you too. You love him. You wouldn’t do that.

He finally notices the black trash bags pushed into the kitchen, still open and overflowing with all the things missing from your walls.

His stomach flips.

No. Nonono. This can’t be happening.

You can’t get rid of him like this. He can’t lose you.

Not after he’s finally tasted what real love in cooking tastes like. Or what it’s like to wake up next to someone who instead isn’t pushing you away straight after sex. Someone who makes an effort for him. Not out of fear but out of love.

He mentally compares everything you’ve changed his perception on.

Like when you give him a gift or help him out it’s different. Vought employees being at his beck and call could never compare.

He’s the most powerful man in the world, with means that don’t feel like they have an end yet he could never buy the love you give freely. For once, love doesn’t feel like pulling teeth. It feels like a warm embrace on a cold winter night.

You make it easy. You don’t fake it. And most importantly you do it unconditionally. Love him through thick and thin, the devotion to him a part of your very core. Your love is overwhelming, oozing and sticky like he’s never gonna be able to get rid of it. Just like you could never get rid of him.

You’re the only one who hasn’t left him.

Exactly. It can’t be. You wouldn’t.

This has to be some kind of a mistake.

The shuffle of your slippers against the floor breaks him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looks up sharply. Seeking some sort of explanation.

“Hey baby. You’re early today—what’s wrong?” The smile drops from your face as quickly as he sees it and it’s only then he realizes his hand is shaking. He squeezes it into a fist, the leather creaking with the pressure as he takes in a labored breath with a jittery shake to his head.

“W-uh-what is… What are you doing?” He blinks rapidly, shaking his head pretending that his voice doesn’t quiver and waver the way it does.

“Bit of spring cleaning. After we talked the other night I just can’t look at this stuff and not think how much Vought has used you. I don’t want those reminders. It’s not what I thought it was and now that you opened my eyes to it, I can’t forget. So. Out with it.” You say so casually, not picking up on the panic he’s been going through in his head.

“Oh—okay.” He lets out a visible breath of relief, his posture relaxing. “I thought—” His jaw tightens and he looks away. Thought so heartbreaking, he doesn't want to give it voice.

“You thought I was getting rid of you?” You stop what you are doing. Putting the box on the couch and instead you walk up to him, hand on his jaw you turn him back to look at you.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” You kiss him, and Homelander melts right into it. He lets himself melt into the loving embrace of your pliant lips.

“Good. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” When you pull away he puts his hands on your jaw, tilting your head as if he was inspecting you. Seeing if what you’re saying is true. And he can’t see a single speck of a lie with the steady beats of your heart and the taste of love on your lips.

“So what are you doing with all of it?”

“Selling it, donating or trashing some I guess.”

“Why not sell it all?”

“You can buy a Homelander poster or card at any shop for a few bucks. I'm not gonna bother with those.”

“What if I sign them?”

“Oh please don’t waste your time. You’re not here to be a show pony.”

“Nonsense, come on. Bring it out.”

Homelander ends up taking the stack of posters with his or the Seven’s likeness from the top of the trash bag, placing them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He sits down, hooking his cape out of the way. He picks up a pen off the table already signing the first poster.

Part of him is still upset that you feel like throwing a part of him away. Is this part of him not good enough for you anymore? It’s how he found you, how he got to know you and now it feels like you’re throwing it away.

As if you could read his thoughts you sit down next to him, placing your hand on top of his as he’s halfway through his signature.

His head snaps up towards you, expression clearly guarded while he looks you over with his piercing blue gaze.

He carries his upset so visibly it would be hard even for someone as unaware as you to miss it. His smile is tight, not even attempting to reach his eyes.

You pull the pen out of his grip, instead wrapping your hand around his. The other one goes to his hair, scratching your nails down his scalp until you reach his undercut where you play with the shortly buzzed hair.

“I’m not getting rid of you. Not now. Not ever.”

At that he leans into you, nearly purring at the pleasure your scalp massage brings him. The way you touch him with no hesitation will never cease to amaze him. There’s enough love pouring off you to almost fill the black hole in his heart.

It was exhilarating to have someone so eager to keep him in their life. Everyone else has just pushed him away, entertained him until they got what they wanted. Not you. You give and give and give. Sometimes he’s scared you’ll run out of love to shower him with. However, one look at you tells him that the love you carry feels just as much of a burden as his need for it does to him. You free each other by sharing the love. You feed his insatiable beast of a heart and he lets you burst the dam free without feeling like you’re not allowed to.

The posters are forgotten about. Any hurt brushed away with a press of his lips to yours. Needy and hungry, wanting to see if you can prove your words with actions. Again and again.

And you do. Like you’ve done a hundred times before and just like you will do thousands of times over.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged when I post a new Homelander fic)

@morishitoshi @ker0senebunny @itsvaleriesucka @thychuvaluswife

@nervoussystemss @littlegaaby @natliecole @thatvintagefanboy

@infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @hom3landr @mrsdesade

@nommingonfood

#yayyyy it's done #I need to learn to keep my chapters at a reasonable word count honestly #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #my writing #the boys fanfiction

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seraphdesire · 2 months ago

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Regarding Donna Beneviento and her characterisation in the fandom, I think it's important to note that she really isn't the shy awkward adorable blushing mess that everyone depicts her as being.

This got long but I did a mildly extensive read on her character under the break! :)

Here are the notes I took a screencap of, written by Mother Miranda, which talks about the suitability of Donna being a vessel for Eva:

There's the evidence you need that she is severely mentally ill, so babying her just feels... wrong anyway, all things considered.

Note - "and has divided her Cadou among her dolls in order to control them from a distance." While I'm on my 3rd replay of re8 I still don't fully get how the Cadou works, but what I think is essentially happening is Donna is literally splitting off parts of herself and putting them in her dolls.

The main one being Angie, of course.

I always used to consider Angie a separate character entirely but she's linked deeply to Donna on a very personal level. Considering what she's like and what all the other dolls are like - loud, funny, sarcastic, rude, etc - and how Donna is literally the one directly controlling Angie (that's the only way she moves lol, because Donna is carrying her places. Which is also why, when you kill Angie, the illusion melts away to reveal that you've actually killed Donna), I think it's safe to say that's what her actual personality is like.

Also, her only spoken line of dialogue? Please listen to it. For those who are hard of hearing, like me, she says: "don't leave... I can't let you."

Bearing in mind the way she speaks? Her tone? She sounds confident imo. Determined. And perhaps even a little angry at Ethan for thinking he can escape her.

Just a last addition as well, can I say that her abilities as one of the Four Lourds is genuinely evil? Everyone else has physical intimidation - Alcina has her height and her claws and mutation, Heisenberg has his ability to control magnetic fields and metal, and Moreau can mutate into that huge fish-with-legs thing that vomits something akin to acid? Oh yeah and he can swallow you whole too.

Donna, on the other hand, doesn't have physical intimidation like that. She only has the threat of psychological damage (which makes sense considering she's severely mentally unwell). When Ethan goes through her gardens and has to solve the puzzles in the house, she makes him hallucinate about his wife whom he thinks is dead, and about his baby who is somewhere in this unknown country with a bunch of mutants who only have bad intentions.

It's even worse in the Shadows of Rose DLC imo. As Rose, Donna makes her hallucinate the bullies from back home, being called a freak and a weirdo, made to relive the worst moments of her life. And the puzzles too? Hell. Having to actually recreate the scenes of her bullying with wooden fucking dolls. I remember feeling really sorry for Rose while playing through that part.

And yet Donna is still "the uwu baby" because what? I don't know. People love to declaw female villains just because they're attractive (looking at Lady Dimitrescu here). They love to reduce the characters down to their looks and not consider their actual lore or background or the role they play in the franchise (looking at Leon especially...)

Which, ya know, of course people are allowed their headcanons for characters and Donna doesn't get enough screentime to really have her personality even thought of, let alone to be made canon. But I think it's fair to say that Angie and Donna are basically one and the same because they're literally the same Cadou.

This is a quick reminder that you are, of course, allowed to disagree with me. Everyone has their own opinions and that's fine. If you would like to politely debate about this in my comments or in my DMs, or even in my asks, then you're more than welcome to! Please remember debating and arguing are two different things though.

If it really irks you that bad then please scroll, it's not hard. If you don't want to do that then feel free to block me - the button is free of charge after all and should be used more to cultivate your feed to your liking.

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re village #re8 #donna beneviento #resident evil donna #re8 donna

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zumicho · 5 months ago

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home┊prologue┊002

001: iced lemon loaves & self deprecating humor

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cw: language, mentions “maul” “die” & sexual jokes

“do you not have any friends?” a tousled head of dirty blond stands before you, his toned arms crossed over his chest. it’s only been five minutes; he’s already cutting five years off of your lifespan.

there’s a heartbreaker kind of look in his eyes that warns you to avoid him. you ignore it. “that’s an odd question to ask a stranger.” he’s not your type anyway; it doesn’t matter how much he pesters you.

“we don’t have to be strangers.” he stretches his hand out. “I’m miya atsumu, and my friend thinks you’re hot.” friendly (suspicious), you shake it.

“you or your friend?”

as he opens his mouth to reply, the door chimes cut him off. three people walk in. one is trailing behind the two—defeated, like he’s failed a mission. you look at the one that talked to you, and then to him. twins, you note. this one’s got better hair.

there’s a reserved figure that walks ahead of them with an air of authority around him. the captain? you wonder, noticing the sport uniforms. he bows at you politely. you like this one.

“don’t listen to him.” the third person speaks up, and your mouth goes agape. he’s gorgeous. “sorry on his behalf.” he’s perfect.

“do you all play soccer or something?” you wince at their reactions.

“volleyball, actually.” — twin #1.

“oh! my bad!!!” you pale. god. “that’s cool. cool cool cool. cool.”

“cool with you if we get something to eat?” god’s favorite teases, all the others staring at you both. your ears turn a deeper shade of red each second.

“..huh?” you blank.

“oh. RIGHT. um, what can I get you?” you want to crawl in a hole and die, but hiding behind the counter will do for now.

you hear crickets as atsumu opens his mouth. “your number?”

“for suna here.” he adds as he gestures.

he clearly can handle himself, “ignore him. I’m not in the market for any relationships. nor am I interested.”

miya glares at him. “that’s mean, man. she looks disappointed.”

“I’m not.” you correct. “even if I was, it’s not like I’d have a chance.” your lips move faster than your brain.

“talk about self deprecating humor.” gray-haired twin #2 smiles at you, considerate. that lets your shoulders relax a bit.

“this is all really awkward,” suna says, “but we could really use some cupcakes or something.”

the captain steps up, and you maybe unintentionally notice that suna’s the tallest. “can we please get those cookies that were on twitter? if it’s not a problem.” he’s formal.

“sure. how many?”

“four.” the twins echo.

“make that three.” — s

you look up at him, confused. “you don’t want anything?”

“those look good.”

you follow his line of sight, and grin. iced lemon loaves.

“yeah. good pick.”

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author’s note: i made tsumu the punchline / punching bag in this au but oh well 😭 it had to be someone 😭 i also hate writing the embarassed / nervous character SO MUCH i cringe while i write.. i really don’t like this episode but idk what about my writing irks me here and IDK WHAT TO CHANGEEE i need 2 learn how to write dialogue better cause im DYINGGGGHHH OVER HERE

@phoenix-eclipses @thechaosoflonging @yuminako @nbcvs @tenjikusstuff4 @intergalacticrory @sonicsolos @yenonnoff @wyrcan @cnnmairoll @causenessus @reads-stuff-quietly @giocriedpower @applepi25 @gra-eae @lilchubbyyy @thvvluvr @toges-cough-syrup

#hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #hq smau #smau series #haikyuu #hq x y/n #hq x you #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader

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pjmparadise · 2 years ago

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3:23 am (don’t go, stay) Pt 1 || JJK

Pairing: jungkook x f! original character

Word count: 12.1k

Genre(s): fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, slight angst if you squint; neighbor au, pre-debut Jungkook au, pre-debut au, comic book artist Jungkook au, apartment au, neighbor au

Warnings: cursing, mentions of jungkook’s penis (yeah yeah... he sleeps naked ofc), brief injury (jk hurts himself bc he’s a dork); descriptions of anxiety and fear (jungkook is scared for a sec, oops); nudity mentions, jungkook is a little horny (what can I say....), jungkook gets a hard on lol; he’s also down bad pathetic crushing and is super clumsy, and brief mentions of home robberies (lol this feels random, but it isn’t I swear), very heavily dialogue based

Audience: 18+ (minors, DNI!)

Summary: Jungkook has had a couple of awkward run-ins with his pretty upstairs neighbor, who he may or may not be secretly pining over, and one night, she pays him an unexpected visit.

“My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”

“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”

He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”

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A/N: WOOO! my first jungkook fic!! We recently got his birth time, and thus this title was born lol! I’ve been working on this baby for a few months now, and it’s finally finished!! After a long time of contemplating, i decided to make our female character an original character, and i know it’s kind of a rare thing in the community, but i felt it worked best with my story. It’s been a bumpy ride with this one since it’s my first lengthy fic (over 12k words... sheesh!) that will be a part of a short series. I’m very excited and a little nervous, but if you’re here, I’m glad to have you here. Thank you for giving my work a shot <3 (ps. italics indicate jungkook’s inner thoughts as well as flashbacks)

a big thank you to my lovely beta’s: @cherrysoulth @the-boy-meets-evil and @jeonjcngkook you’ve all helped me shape my fic and have been so helpful, and I am so so grateful. truly. seriously. thank you for brainstorming with me, for reading my work, and for being so sweet and so supportive.

a special thank you to @itaeewon for the lovely banner! I love it so so much <3

Jungkook is awake to hear the sound of a muffled thud nearby.

His bedroom is dark and silent save for the alarm clock resting on a bedside table flashing bright red numbers at him. ‘It’s late, it’s late, you should be asleep,’ the time says. Jungkook shuts his eyes, groaning and rubbing a hand over his face. “I know, fuck, I know,” he mutters. He’s fully naked, lying on his back, eyes wide open and boring into the ceiling, blanket kicked off to the side, and arms folded behind his neck–still remembering a phone conversation with Namjoon earlier in the day.

“So she walked toward the elevator as it closed, and you didn’t open it for her?” Namjoon scoffs over the phone, shaking his head and clicking his tongue to show he’s disappointed. He knows Jungkook froze, Jungkook already told him he wanted to reach out and push the button for her, but Namjoon asked again anyway—he likes to give him a hard time. “Every time you see this girl, things just kind of go wrong. I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a sigh. “I’ve noticed too. Is it a sign? Should I give up?” In his apartment, he sat curled up on his couch, his chin on his kneecaps. He’s fallen silent in thought.

“No, nothing like that. Maybe she didn’t get to see it was you, so she thinks it was someone else, or maybe she doesn't even think about it anymore. You know, like things that happen in your day you forget about later unless something reminds you of it?”

“Yes!” Jungkook relaxed, falling back against the couch with a hand over his forehead. “That probably is what’s going on. She went on with her day; other things have to happen, right?”

Namjoon was quiet. In his apartment, he was opening mail and reading over a proposal he was meant to sign soon. A project he hasn’t mentioned to anyone else, Namjoon folds the letter and sets it aside. “Sorry, yes. Yes, don’t worry too much. It will ruin your day. I mean that. Sorry for the pause. I just opened some mail.”

“Ah, okay. Well, you’re right.” Jungkook rose from his seat then. “Namjoon-hyung?”

Namjoon nodded even though he couldn’t be seen. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. I don’t know if I say that enough, but you’re always helping and guiding me when I don’t even realize I need it.”

“Thank you, Jungkook. Finish your comic tonight, and submit it tomorrow. I know you’ll place in the contest and do well. You haven’t scrapped it have you?”

Jungkook sighed. Rubbing his eyelids, walking distractedly around his living room, he spoke with his eyes closed. “I have it. I finished it; I just don’t feel too good about posting it, even with the pseudonym; it feels like too much. Too much with what we already have going on as a group even. We’re trying to do something together, and the comic stuff is just… I don’t know. I don’t want it to distract me.”

Namjoon was on his back patio, leaning over the railing and looking out at the park across from him. “Jungkook, I’m going to tell you something and think about it however you want to. I respect your life, but I think—and these are just my opinions. I think you doubt yourself too often and need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.” Namjoon folds his arms over the railing, leaning his body against it. “No rush, bro. At all. The music we’re trying to pursue, it’s not going anywhere, you know?”

Jungkook nodded from his living room.

“Like, okay, look.” Namjoon fixed his gaze on a flock of birds rising from the trees. “The guys, we all have our passions. Yoongi with his piano, Jimin is passionate about his dancing, Taehyung with his instruments, Jin and his gaming, and Hoseok he’s been designing his own clothes lately; with me, you know I like poetry and painting, but we all share music. That is for the team, for a part of us, but we each have so many parts. You like art and storytelling; your comics are so cool, bro. You love watching Taehyung practice the trumpet, and Jimin dance after practice. We like to see you pursue your other dreams too. Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.”

Jungkook almost cried. He stopped pacing. His heart was racing; it was all he had heard momentarily. If Namjoon were there in front of him, he’d hug him. Maybe he’d even cry. “Ah, Namjoon-hyung…” he swallowed hard at the saliva in his throat, blushing. ‘Namjoon always knows what to say,’ he thought. “I will think about it. I will set an alarm, just in case. I’ll decide in the morning, you know it’s my style to do that the day of. If I think about it now, it will be like this all day, and I’ll stress too much.”

“Good, then. Just think about it.” Namjoon smiled.

Jungkook lies motionless with his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, mouthing along to Namjoon’s words. “We like to see you pursue your other dreams too. Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.” He sighs. How could he not worry about the guys? He’s twenty-five. Most idols start out much younger, and the mandatory enlistment is already so near for his hyungs. It’s bad timing, is all. My comic book can wait.

He wants to sleep, so he turns over, laying flat on his stomach, facing his wall. Resting his full body weight on his flaccid penis is slightly uncomfortable, but he ignores it. It’s the type of restless night that he has no chance up against, and even with his eyes closed, he feels painfully awake. Jungkook is thinking of her again—her pretty smile, the pink sundress she wore in the elevator, her ability to look him in the eyes and not shy away—and it’s almost like she's here, in the same room with him. He pictures the sundress again, the way it clung to her frame, highlighting every curve. Man, I want her. He shifts his hips around, surprising himself with a massive erection.

The thud strikes again suddenly, and he sits up, alarmed. Shit, is that here? Like outside my apartment? Jungkook squints in the darkness, bringing a hand to the nightstand to fetch his glasses. Any sign of arousal is now extinguished.

“Bam?” He calls out in a sluggish voice. The clock beside him flashes bright red numbers at him. 3:23. “Ah, shit,” Jungkook mumbles, turning the clock away. A sound he can’t distinguish comes from his left, directly outside his bedroom. “It’s like home alone,” he says to no one.

Jungkook rests his head against the wall, the texture cold against his feverish face. He can hear the sound of a muffled conversation. “Shit, that’s right here, right outside,” he mumbles, stepping back. He reaches over mechanically to switch on the lamp beside him.

Now, Jungkook is painfully aware of his nakedness and frenetically searches for bottoms to change into. He’s thinking about how his legs don’t feel like his own as he walks to the chair by the door, where he sees basketball shorts. It’s like sleepwalking. Even though he’s awake, Jungkook feels as though he might’ve actually fallen asleep, and this is some strange anxiety dream he’s creating to cope with his qualms about submitting his comic. Still, he goes along with it, quietly changing into the shorts, walking out into his living room, and ducking his head when he passes the glass patio door.

Cursing under his breath, annoyed at himself for forgetting to throw on a shirt, Jungkook shakes his head at himself. I don't want to fight an intruder shirtless and commando in basketball shorts, damn... A part of him feels a rush of adrenaline as he crouches behind a potted plant and, chewing on his lower lip, fantasizes about a robbery gone wrong, one where he puts his boxing skills to the test—the other part of him wants this to be a dream, a sign from the universe that he ought to submit his comic. I’ll fucking do it if I survive this.

Jungkook stays like that for a while until he hears a sound again. Rising from his crouched position, he walks toward the back patio window, pulling back the curtain to peer out. He feels a tightness in his chest, and his hands tremble slightly. A shameful part of him is relieved that he’s alone and no one is around to see how shaken up he is.

He whistles quietly, calling to Bam, forgetting his brother is watching over him tonight. Craning his neck, he glances around his balcony patio and sees nothing. “Bam, come here,” his whispering is frantic. He whistles again, patting his leg lightly. Nothing. You’re okay. It’s nothing. It’s probably the cats again tipping over the plants. Just fix it tomorrow. Now, go back to bed. You need it. Jungkook is about to whistle once more when he remembers. His eyebrows knit together; shaking his head, he places his fingertips on his eyelids, murmuring a lamented, “Ah.”

Thinking better of it, he draws the curtain back again and sighs with relief before taking note of a figure crouched behind a chair with a hand shooting up to rub their head. Panic washes over him. His inner monologue consists of a string of every curse word he can think of as he ducks out of view. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s a person. If he’d been scared earlier, now he’s downright petrified.

Desperate, he begins to look around the room for a weapon. Anything. Jungkook stands still, breathing in heavy gulps of air, cradling his head as he adjusts his vision to the darkness of the living room. ‘Can’t even turn a fucking light on,’ he thinks as he drops to the ground and crawls around his living room. His home’s silence unsettles him. Jungkook can hear the nothingness aside from his ragged breathing, so he pinches the skin on his arm and hisses at the sharp pain. Okay, real life it is. His bare knees skid against the hard flooring, and his clammy palms slip beneath him; his heart is thudding hard and fast, the blood pooling between his ears. He’s scowling, chewing his lower lip, his chest heaving as he fumbles a hand under the couch; he fingers a cold object and remembers what it is. Aha! He comes up with a golf club Taehyung left behind a few nights ago. I love you, Taehyung!

Jungkook grips the golf club until his knuckles take on a pale color. Having a weapon gives him a newfound sense of security, and like before, he’s fantasizing about kicking someone’s ass. “You come to my house at three in the morning? My house?” he says as he walks through his living room, rolling his shoulders.

He draws the curtain again, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness; he sees the figure facing away from him and hunching over, a phone glowing against their face. He can call the police, and he almost wants to, but to avoid the drama of a police visit at three in the morning, he decides against it. Imagine the guys find out I called the police? He shudders at the thought. The stranger looks small anyway.

Jungkook reaches for the doorknob and pulls back the door. It’s a lot chillier than he’d anticipated. He folds his arms over his bare chest instantly, the skin covered in goosebumps—his teeth chatter of their own accord.

“Don't move!” He raises the golf club in a mid-swing position, ready to strike. The person shifts around, holding up the hand with the phone. “I said, ‘Don’t move’!” He sounds ridiculous, but he doesn't care. In the shadows, he watches the phone’s glow shut off. “I called the police, so don’t try anything. They’re on the way.” His voice doesn't even sound like his own. He takes a few steps toward the stranger, his grip tightening around the golf club. His heart feels heavy in his chest.

It’s hard to make out the features of this person, but they rise, walk toward the dim light spilling from the neighbor’s window, and he can see them now. The stranger looks straight at him, and he’s met with wide eyes staring at him. She’s standing, squinting at him with a hand on her hip, and she smiles wide. Damn! If this were an animation, she’d have a halo effect.

Jungkook has seen her a total of seven times—he can’t help it; he likes to keep track of these things. It’s his upstairs neighbor, their interactions before tonight being brief and in passing (the most recent engraved in his mind and tormenting him), and he’s thought of her tirelessly and has fantasized about a time they should meet, and things go well for a change.

Jungkook doesn't know her name, but he could recognize those beautiful dark eyes anywhere. He’s looking into them now, his body anchored, mouth turning into sawdust.

She’s talking to him; he’s just not listening. Not really. He can't grasp the reality that it’s actually her, and she’s standing on his patio, and she looks so beautiful. Should he be thinking that?

Her long black hair is in a loose ponytail, her eyebrows arch as her deep dark eyes blink at him, and her lips move. “Please tell me you didn't really call the cops,” she says, bursting through his trance.

Damn, I sounded so stupid! Jungkook blushes. He hopes she can’t tell from where she stands.

“I was trying to call my friend; I swear I was not snooping or breaking in.” She smiles, but her voice sounds worried. Her eyebrows furrow like she’s trying to read him. “Honest,” she says in a small voice as she leans on the railing and raises her hand with the cell phone for emphasis.

She’s wearing a dark gray sweatshirt twice her size and sandals with white socks, and he can’t tell if she’s wearing shorts or if the sweatshirt is all. He can feel his face reddening just from the possibility of her nakedness underneath the sweatshirt, so he decides not to focus on that.

Jungkook rubs the nape of his neck, abashed. The cold air surrounds him, and he folds his arms across his chest, remembering his exposed chest. His empty threat echoes and bounces around in his head, and he looks away from her. “I didn't call the cops, sorry. I didn't know what else to say. It’s what they say in movies.”

“You would be right anyway; this is your patio.” She laughs a little at that, and his heart rate picks up. She pushes herself away from the railing, smiling, and walks toward him with an outstretched hand. Her nail polish is glittery, and he doesn't notice, but this small detail makes him smile. “I’m Rei. I live upstairs. Maybe you’ve seen me before.” There’s a coy look on her face as she says this, and it makes him nervous.

So her name is Rei!!! Fireworks set off, exploding behind Jungkook’s wide eyes.

“Huh, maybe,” Jungkook lies. He shakes her hand slowly, his hand enveloping hers entirely, the contact sending a warm shock through his body.

“Maybe a few days ago,” she says, with a finger to her chin, like she’s thinking over something. “Oh, yes, have I seen you on the elevator?”

“The elevator?” He feigns innocence as he tongues his lip ring anxiously. “That’s strange. Every day is a blur for me.”

“For me, too,” she replies. She’s almost smirking, watching Jungkook lie. He can tell she’s caught him. “You just look sooo familiar.”

“That’s a first.” Still, he denies it.

“Maybe you just look like someone I’ve seen,” she says, looking into his eyes as if searching for something she placed there. “You have one of those faces, you know?”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows, lips parted to speak, but nothing comes out.

Is she flirting with me or giving me a hard time? DAMN!

“I have an ordinary face?” Jungkook wonders after a moment.

“Either that or my memory is failing me,” she says, sighing and shaking her head. “Which do you think it is?”

“I don't have an ordinary face,” Jungkook says in a small voice, “I have piercings on my face.”

“That’s true…” she’s watching the ground and suddenly looks into his eyes again. She holds his stare unblinking, and then her lips pull back into a big smile showing off cute bunny teeth. Just like me. “I’ve always had a good memory; I was just kidding.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, blushing.

He can smell her perfume when a cold breeze blows past him, carrying her real-life presence and enveloping him in it. It’s sweet and mixed with a scent of detergent he recognizes, and he’s watching how strands of her hair float beside her face. She’s so cute. Damnnnn.

“You should open the door for the ladies,” Rei says, raising an eyebrow, and stepping closer, she says, “Just harmless advice. Stranger .”

“I will consider that,” he replies, avoiding her fixed stare, attempting to ignore how she’s riled him up with a loud clearing of his throat. But his chest is on fire, his heart thudding hard against his rib cage at her closeness. “My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”

“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”

He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”

She laughs, and he internally swoons. If he were a cartoon, his heart would burst out of his chest in comical dramatic thuds, his pupils heart-shaped.

“I’m kidding. I know I’m giving you a hard time when I’m on your patio at three in the morning, but I can explain why I’m here,” Rei mimics Jungkook’s movements by crossing her arms across her chest, her lower lip trembling, “but can I come in? It’s cold out, and I'm in the worst attire for this weather.” She gestures vaguely at her exposed legs, and Jungkook’s stare lingers before she notices—so he responds with a nod as he gestures for her to follow him inside. “Though you might have me beat. You came out here without a shirt, damn.”

Leading the way, he blushes at her comment and gives his head a light shake. She’s so talkative! Yoongi was right about her.

With a dreamy air about him, he remembers Namjoon’s words. Except now, all he remembers is: “You need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.”

Inside, Jungkook excuses himself to his room to change into a shirt. He reaches for his glasses beside his bed and goes to the closet. “Shirt, shirt, shirt,” he mutters as his hands sift through empty hangers. When was the last time he did laundry? He groans. “Shirt?” he reaches to pick up a heap of white clothing in the deep corner of the closet. He brings the shirt to his nose, sniffs, and walks back into the room, raising an eyebrow and nodding with approval. His hands are shaky as he maneuvers his head through a t-shirt sleeve in a panicked rush. He yanks the shirt off again, the t-shirt now inside out and knotted up in his grip; he groans as his fingers work the fabric. What if she’s gone when I go back out there? Agh, what if I’m dreaming all of this up, and lack of sleep is finally getting to me?

Rei’s voice comes through the walls, and though this is their first official meeting, he knows she’s smiling as she calls out to him. “You okay in there?”

Smoothing out the wrinkles on the shirt, he glances at his reflection behind the bedroom door before stepping out, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. “I’m okay; all is OK. Sorry.” He offers her a thumbs up and a big goofy grin that makes her laugh.

“Did you go on a hike without me?” She asks from her seat on his couch. She rests her face on her palm, looking up at him as he walks past toward the kitchen.

“Hike? I just put the shirt on; it was fighting me, though.”

“No, I meant,” she shakes her head, laughing. “I meant that as a while for changing into a shirt. Bad joke, sorry.”

“Ah,” Jungkook says.

“You’re wearing glasses,” she comments, her eyes looking over his face.

“I am,” he says, glancing her way.

It looks like she wants to say something else but doesn't.

He raises his eyebrows, nodding and tonguing the inside of his cheek. It doesn't happen often, but he doesn't know what to say. He walks into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets. “Do you drink tea?” He wonders as he fills a kettle with water and sets it to boil.

Rei nods, stretching her legs before her and craning her neck back to look up at the ceiling. “Chamomile or whatever you have, I’m not picky.” She points a finger above her head, motioning for him to look. “Those are stars. Is this wallpaper? It looks pretty. Is it glow-in-the-dark?”

Jungkook is in the kitchen, his eyes watching how her finger moves in a swift motion of the length of the ceiling. He thinks about how her hand felt in his grip and wishes he’d been more present. “It’s… I don’t know, actually. It’s not a wallpaper; it’s carved into the ceiling, and yes, it glows but not like the bright green; it’s softer.” He looks at her, and she scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. “Want to see?”

She twists her body to look at him, her smile so big he can’t help but return the affection. “Yes. Show me.”

“Grab the remote beside you; turn off the lights with it.”

She clicks the lights off, and the gasp she lets out makes his heart flutter in his chest. Aside from the hard thudding in his chest, the only sounds nearby are the buzzing of the refrigerator, the ice machine rolling out handfuls of freshly carved-out cubes, and the bubbling water in the kettle. Jungkook doesn't dare disturb the quiet; he’s leaning against the kitchen table, wanting her to stay. He looks for her in the dark, his eyes finding her silhouette on the couch, his lips pulling back into a smile. She’s better than in his daydreams; she smells sweet and of detergent, and she feels like a real person just like him, so near but out of his reach. And here, in the same room as him, so close to him, Jungkook realizes she could’ve left by now but hasn’t.

“I’d love it if I had this on my ceiling,” Rei pouts, “want to trade?” She clicks the lights back on, and Jungkook blinks, slowly adjusting to the brightness.

He pretends to mull it over, humming and tonguing his cheek. He puts on his best-thinking face. “No way, but you can come over and look at the stars when it's overcast or raining outside.” He walks toward the stove, where the water boils in the kettle. With his back turned to her, he’s hiding his blushing face as he sets two cups out before him.

“I think that sounds nice,” she replies, surprising him. “So what, I walk outside sometime, see a gray sky, and come downstairs to see you? ‘Hey, neighbor, can I see the stars?’ and you say, ‘Come in, I’ve just made cocoa, would you like some?’ and I say, ‘Thank you, are you sure?’ and then you say, ‘Sure’ except I never leave because I like the stars so much and you don’t know how to tell me I should go home.”

“Oh, that’s a good conversation. Is that what you’d like me to make? I like hot cocoa,” Jungkook says, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “You think I'd want you to leave?”

“Well, if I were here all the time….” she looks at him through her lashes, and he catches her eyes and raises an eyebrow at her, a playful smirk on his lips. And she shakes her head, laughing. “Do you mean it, though?”

“About you coming to see the stars whenever you’d like?” Jungkook asks, leaning against the kitchen island. She nods at him in two slow motions of her head. “Yes, I mean it.”

“The skies are unusually gray these days, aren’t they?”

“I’ve noticed that too,” he says, opening the fridge. He grabs a box of cherries and shuts the door with his elbow. “But no rain.”

“Exactly, I told my friend Kimi; she lives with me upstairs and is almost a sister to me, except we have different parents. Well, I told her, ‘Haven't you noticed how it looks like it’s going to rain every day, but it never does?’ and she says, ‘Rei, it rains. It just happens to be when you’re asleep,’ and can you believe it? I woke up yesterday, and it was early, not like tonight, but early for me, and I looked outside my window, and there was dew sticking to the glass, and it was all sweaty when I touched the windowpane, and I realized she was right, it rained during the night, and I just missed it. Isn't that something so lame?”

“Huh,” Jungkook says, chewing on a cherry and offering the box to her. She shakes her head no and mouths a ‘Thank you’ to him. “So we’re off asleep and just missing the rain, so it always works out that we’re missing out on something during the day. It’s always like that. Kimi sees the rain, and you’re off sleeping, but you probably get to see other things I miss when I’m taking a nap and on and on.”

“That’s true. But I thought about catching it tonight. When I went to bed hours ago, I kept thinking about the rain and wondering if I stayed up, I might see it, and it wouldn’t just feel like I kept missing it and living the same gray day.”

“It’s like Santa Claus,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose as he tongues a cherry stem in his mouth, “waiting up all night for him to show up just for you to see your dad dressed up as Santa and realize he’s been putting the presents down there for years.”

Rei laughs at this and covers her face with her hands like she’s protecting her laugh from anything sharp. “Your dad did that? For real?”

Jungkook scrunches his eyebrows and pinches his nose bridge, and with a tone of feigned affliction, he says, “Yeah, he did. I knew the truth before a lot of my classmates.”

“How old were you? When he ruined Santa Claus. Do you remember a thing like that, like how old you were?” She rests her chin on her palm like she’s weighing her head. He thinks she looks cute like that but doesn’t say anything.

“I don't know exactly, but I was in the third year of school,” Jungkook says, suddenly thinking back on his infancy. He chews his lower lip when the answer suddenly comes to him, and he remembers the conversation he had with the guys a while back. They’d all taunted Seokjin when they found out Seokjin didn't know the truth about Santa until he was thirteen. “I was seven. I can't believe I remembered that. I was seven….” His mouth hangs open, and he remembers what he wore when he first saw his dad hunched over behind the tree with a gift in hand— a white flannel pajama set and his mother’s slippers. Where has this memory been hiding? “Damn.”

“I was six,” she says, smiling. “My childhood was ruined a year before yours. Or wait, are we the same age? I just assumed we were.” She laughs again, bringing a hand up to her face to hide her smile.

“I assumed the same thing,” Jungkook admits, feeling his cheeks redden. “I’m twenty-five.”

“Oh wow,” she says, almost to herself. “Me too.”

He doesn't know what else to do but clear his throat and nod. He never imagined getting this far (whatever that means). He’ll struggle to explain this later when Namjoon asks—Jungkook knows he’ll ask.

The kettle begins to whistle, and he’s reaching for the two coffee mugs as she says something behind him he doesn't catch. And he turns his head over his shoulder and nods at her. “What happened? Sorry, I didn't catch that.”

“I said, ‘You don't have to do that for me.’” She turns her head away as she says this, her long hair cascading along her profile, hiding her.

“I have a visitor,” he says, turning over to look at her with a grin. “I have good manners.”

“Oh, sure, manners,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him like a friend he’s known for years. “Is that my tea? It smells amazing.”

“It is, but it’s hot, so let’s leave it here.” Jungkook offers her a tight-lipped smile, shyly making his way toward her. “Mind if I sit next to you?”

“No, not at all; come, sit.” She pats the spot beside her and scoots over to make room for him. “Thank you for the tea and for letting me in. I know it’s late.”

Jungkook glances at the clock on the kitchen stove. 3:55. “It’s not that late. I was awake anyway, so I didn’t mind.” He’s toying with his lip ring again. “Why were you out there anyway?”

It’s been some time since Jungkook’s been this close to a girl. He feels his heart thudding away in his chest, her presence stirring up a desire that’s been dormant. Loose strands of hair frame her face, and his eyes follow her movements as she brushes the strands away. She looks embarrassed, her cheeks reddening. Still, he finds her so cute. “Truth?”

“Yes.” He scrunches his nose when he smiles at her.

“I locked myself out of my apartment. Before bed, I stepped out into my patio for a smoke and to read more of my book. I was also trying to test my rain suspicions to see if I could catch it while it happened. So, I’m out there romanticizing my life, pretending I’m in a movie; you know how we act when we’re alone and suddenly want to be poetic?” She looks at Jungkook, and he nods lightly. “That was me, except I got cold right away and said, ‘Oh fuck this, I’m going to bed,’ and that’s when I realized I’d locked the back door, and I was so mad I almost cried.” She places her fingertips against her forehead, continuing her recounting. “So, of course, I get the idea of calling a locksmith, but they’re closed; I don’t know what people should do if they need help during the night.”

“Most people sleep, I think.”

She clicks her tongue. “Right, some people do, but you and I are not those people, right?” She draws an imaginary line with her forefinger from her chest toward him. He nods and feigns oblivious as his leg brushes against her bare thigh as she shifts in her seat. “So, not only is every locksmith not available, but my service is horrible, so I am standing on my tiptoes trying to get a bar, and my phone slips. My heart almost burst.” She brings a hand to her chest for visual effect, and his eyes watch her chest as it rises and falls with each breath. He’s smiling at her—a wide smile that hurts his cheeks. “If it weren’t for your patio, my phone would be shattered to hell on the ground. I look over my balcony, and for the first time, I notice how close our balconies are.” Rei presses her hands over her thighs, leaning forward in her seat and fixing her eyes on the glass patio door across from her. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I don’t go out there much. Anyway, I’m rambling. I noticed I could jump directly into your patio because there’s a mattress out there, and well….” She makes a motion with her hands that says: ‘ Ya know?’

“You weren’t scared of jumping? The balconies are close, but we’re still six stories up.” Jungkook rests his hands on his knees, fully invested in this story; his eyes never leave her. She forms a tight line with her lips and gives him a serious look that makes him laugh. “Ok, so you were scared.”

“I was scared! But there’s a mattress out there, you know,” she says in a small voice. She’s blushing and scratching at the side of her nose to avoid his eyes.

Jungkook notices this and clicks his tongue, leaning back in his seat. “So it was not an accident, then?” He raises an eyebrow at her, sucking his teeth in feigned disapproval.

The truth is, he’s not mad about it; he wants her here. He almost feels like he is in a dream.

“Not entirely. Don’t ask me how I thought about returning to my place after retrieving my phone because I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“Oh, there’s a mattress out there. You could’ve just slept there; no big deal,” Jungkook says with a laugh. Rei brings a hand to her face to hide behind, making a groaning sound. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to laugh at you. I just don't know what to think— this has never happened before.”

“And it won’t happen again; let’s hope.” She laughs, and it’s different from before; it sounds deeper like she reached into herself and decided to really show him. And Jungkook likes the sound of her laugh but does not comment. She moves a few strands of hair from her face and rests her cheek on her hand, leaning on the couch's armrest. It’s slowly dawning on Jungkook how badly he wants her. What am I supposed to do with her this close to me? Damn. “So, what’s your name? You didn’t say when I told you mine.”

He rises from the couch, remembering their tea.

“Jeon Jungkook,” he says as he pours the tea, “I guess I forgot to introduce myself. Huh.”

Rei’s looking at him with her chin in her hand and a serious look on her face as he’s walking toward her with an outstretched hand in offering. “It’s chamomile,” Jungkook announces.

“Jeon Jungkook,” She repeats with a light smile. “I like it. I don’t know any other Jungkooks.”

“Yeah? I’ve had this name for a long time. I like it too.”

She takes the cup and brings it to her face, inhaling the scent and shivering, and says, “Thank you again. This tea smells sweet. It reminds me of this tea my grandmother used to make my sister and me when we were kids. She would put a little bit of honey, the real kind, and peppermint leaves; it was….” She sighs longingly. “I miss that tea; this smells like home.”

Sitting beside her, he takes a sip of tea, his gaze on her unmoving. Her lips part as she blows gently, the steam rising from the cup in lazy strokes. Jungkook’s heartbeat quickens when she matches his stare with her deep dark eyes that seem to look for something in his.

“This tea has honey, but I doubt it’s the real kind you mentioned, but I still think it’s good.” He clears his throat, looking away as he adjusts his glasses on his nose bridge.

“I like your glasses. I wanted to say that earlier,” Rei comments, taking a sip of her tea, “I don't know why I didn't say anything.” She moves around in her seat, tucking her legs beneath her, then asks, “Can I wear them? Are they prescription?”

“They’re just reading glasses. You can wear them. I put them on sometimes just because they suit me,” he pulls his glasses off, wipes the lenses on his shirt, and hands them over.

“Ah, so you like how they look on you,” she says, her eyes gleaming as she takes the glasses from him and sets them on her face. “How do they look?”

If he were a cartoon character from one of his comics, he’d have melted into a puddle, exploded like dynamite, turned into stardust, and returned to his original self. Except, she’s a real person just like he is, flesh and blood and so beautiful, and he’s off in space being reborn.

“Look at me,” he motions for her to turn his way. She looks straight at him, wearing his glasses and blushing at his attention. She begins to unfold in front of him, her playful demeanor softening. “You look pretty. If they weren't my prescription, I would give them to you.”

“Here, they’re hurting my eyes,” she says, laughing. She removes the glasses and starts rubbing her eyes with closed fists. “You’re sweet, though. I couldn't take a guy’s glasses. How will he go on drinking his tea and letting me in to watch the stars?”

Jungkook feels a warmth spread in his chest. God, how is she real? He runs his fingers through his long hair and coughs once, then again. His nerves are getting to him. She’s too close to him, her bare thigh soft against his leg. He begins to count backward in his head.

“Were you really awake already, or did I wake you?” She asks him all of a sudden. Her eyes stay on him as if waiting for him to say something else.

“You don’t believe me? I was awake. Swear.” He raises his free hand at his side.

She appears to mull that over for a bit, bringing her cup of tea to her lips but not taking a sip. “What were you doing?”

Jungkook is silent, and she sits unmoving until he speaks.

What was I doing? Besides dreading another deadline? Thinking about a comic I might not submit or thinking about not having a shot in hell with a girl like you? Images of the times they’ve run into each other flick by in his head like a slow PowerPoint slide. The registration office, desolate stairwells, crowded evacuations, elevators closing, Rei standing in front of him in a summer dress with a strange look on her face; Rei on his back patio, hunched over with a phone near her face; Rei in his apartment, on his couch, next to him. He feels the adam’s apple in his throat rising and falling. He’s been quiet for who knows how long.

“Thinking, I guess.” He breathes out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I don’t know why I took so long to say that. It sounded boring in my head, so I had to think if there was something else I forgot about.”

“That is pretty boring, just thinking. But that’s life, though, isn’t it? Kind of boring sometimes.”

Jungkook nods, blushing and avoiding looking at her. What if she can read minds? He straightens his posture and runs his fingers through his hair again, his eyes fixed on the ceiling of carved-out stars. It’s OK. It’s OK. She’s still here.

The living room is almost dead silent. Jungkook notices how Rei sips her tea and looks over the area. It’s neat, for the most part. Bam’s toys lay scattered near the laundry room entrance, along with some of Jungkook’s dirty socks the dog likes to chew on, and Bam’s food bowls are resting up against the wall beside his doghouse. The potted plants Namjoon gifted Jungkook are still alive and pop against the beige coloring of the walls in front of them. The TV is massive, his Playstation console resting on its side. Her eyes find the corner shelf where Jungkook’s Marvel figurines are on display behind glass doors, and she turns to look at him with a sparkle in her wide eyes. “Are those yours?” She gestures with her thumb. He nods, chewing his lower lip anxiously. “Can I look?” She rises from her seat when he motions for her to go on. Like standing in a museum, she silently peers into the display with her hands clasped behind her back.

“I just got that case a few days ago when I got that plant next to you,” Jungkook remarks, joining her.

“I remember,” she says distractedly.

“You remember?” His eyebrows raise, and he looks at her fixedly, bringing a fingernail to his mouth. He scrunches his eyebrows, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers; he remembers, too.

He’d bumped into Rei on his way upstairs, both arms holding the bonsai trees obstructing his view, taking long strides up the stairs, chanting to himself and grunting in rhythm. He was on the 50th stair.

“Hey!” A voice shouted at him. “What the hell?”

Jerking to the side of the staircase, flattening against it, Jungkook jumped at this voice. “Sorry! You’re okay?”

The voice struck him as familiar, but mostly, he was surprised he wasn't alone on the staircase. The person laughed a lively laugh, and he felt his chest tighten. He lowered the plants, meeting her eyes. “I’m okay,” she said, shaking her head. She grinned at him, and his heart gave a squeeze. “These things happen. I should take the elevator next time.”

“The plants, I mean. You walked past me going up the stairs and hit me on the head with it.” She glances to her right, catching his eyes briefly. He groans, nodding lightly. She continues, voicing their shared memory, “You were carrying two pots of plants that day and lost your balance or something like that.”

He nods with his eyes closed, his eyebrows drawn close together as he tongues his cheek. “I remember, too,” he opens his eyes to look over at her as he continues, “sorry again. My friend told me not to do that, and I didn’t listen.”

A Spiderman figurine holds her attention, and she’s smiling. He feels his cheeks burn at her sincere gesture. She pretends not to notice and says, “You like running into me like that, then?”

“Like how? It was an accident,” Jungkook says, standing beside her and stretching his arms behind his head.

“Riiiiight,” she says, smirking. “Accident.”

“I didn’t know you were in the stairwell. No one takes the stairs,” Jungkook counters, his voice taking on a defensive edge.

“I take the stairs, I like the exercise, and it’s less embarrassing for me,” She admits. “Running in front of people just looks so stupid. I get too worked up about it and think people are just laughing at me, and they might be, but this way, I can do it in private.”

“Running across the street when cars let you pass is very embarrassing for no reason,” Jungkook says with a laugh. “And okay, fair. I took the stairs that time just because the wait for the elevator was so long. I didn’t mean to hit you that time either.”

“Jungkook, we have to stop meeting like this.” She gives her head a light shake and looks down at her hands. She picks at the glitter on her nails distractedly. “So many accidents. We’re too clumsy.”

“I know what you mean. Namjoon told me to leave one of the plants in the lobby, but I was too impatient. I’m like that sometimes.” He can’t seem to stop blushing.

But Jungkook has to agree. There have been too many accidents in their run-ins with each other, and he remembers each encounter with extreme detail.

Jungkook saw her for the first time when he moved in and face-planted into her back as she stood by the entrance of the registration office. But it didn't happen right away, at least.

The office was big and bustling with sounds. Jungkook walked in, asked out loud if there was a line, and someone nearby replied that yes, there was a line, and he was right at the tail of it. He bounced on the heels of his feet, humming a melody to himself, tapping his fingers against the sides of his legs. A TV across from him played a K-Pop music video of a group he’d never heard of. Beneath the TV was a table with a Terra Kaffe espresso machine accompanied by a spread of dan-pat bbang, songpyeon, bingsu, and reusable cups. His stomach grumbled, but he kept still, willing himself to look away.

Rei stood in line, a foot or two in front of Jungkook, sporting her hair pulled back, secured neatly with a clip the shape of a butterfly. She wore casual clothing: a black long-sleeve sweatshirt, baggy pants, and white Nike shoes. She had earbuds in, and he could hear the muffled sounds of a guitar, and though he did not fully understand why, he smiled.

“Next in line, please,” a woman behind a glass window called out, taking an uninspired sip of her iced coffee as she waved a hand toward her. “Come on, next in line.”

Jungkook wore a black t-shirt, navy plaid bottoms, and socks with slides, though standing there, he began to regret his attire. His eyes looked over the office, and mentally, he tallied the number of girls he spotted. Nine. He felt his cheeks warming up, his neck growing hot, and when he looked over to his right, a girl waved at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He blushed, nodding at her. Why hadn’t he worn something nicer?

He was adjusting his sock, balancing on his right leg, when a dog ran past him, toppling him over. He hopped on his right leg, his arms flailing at his sides, and his face instantly smashed into Rei’s back. If he had a chance to do it over, he wouldn’t have cried out so loud. Even now, months later, he cringes at the memory. He’d turned away, cupping his aching nose after she whipped her head over her shoulder at the sudden impact. Their eyes met briefly, her pupils dark and wide; she mouthed something to him, his ears ringing, all of the sounds around him muddled into incoherence.

“I’m so sorry. Excuse me,” Jungkook mumbled, turning at his heel and speed-walking past a group of girls that giggled when he passed them.

Jungkook thought about her all day after that first day. While he unpacked, walked Bam, and cooked for himself later in the evening. She was pretty, sure, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t break apart and understand— it was new and brought on a strange sensation and desire to know her. He didn't know it then, but he’d see so much of her it would become nearly impossible not to think of her.

And here they are, five months later.

“You agree, don't you?” Rei prods. “Maybe you’re the clumsy one, Jungkook. I was just standing there.” She says that like she knows what he’s thinking. That first day they saw each other. She’s thought of it too.

He swoons at the sound of his name escaping her lips again. “Jungkook,” he mouths, taking it in—not wanting to forget how it sounds when she says it.

She turns on her heel, returning to the couch and fetching her phone from between the cushions. Her backside faces Jungkook, and he shyly lowers his gaze when he catches a glimpse of her ass in shorts that do a poor job of hiding anything. “I’m impatient too, as you know now,” she offers, looking down at her phone, her face illuminated with the screen's glow. She reads something and has a serious look on her face. “It’s getting late, isn’t it?”

He squints at the clock on the stove. 4:27. “Yeah, I guess so,” he replies, trying to hide his disappointment.

“Your figures are cool, by the way. They look like the real deal. Are they?”

He nods silently, tonguing his lip ring. Jungkook watches her with a gut-wrenching desire to step forward and take her face into his hands and kiss her.

“You’re a Marvel geek. I'm guessing,” she says, staring down at the ground. It’s like she’s suddenly shy. Her voice is quieter. “I like some of the movies. I saw the new Spider-man with my friends last week. I’m late, I know.”

“I have Disney plus,” Jungkook says, his eyes looking her over. “And I’m not trying to say anything like the ramen stuff, you know, all that stuff people say to each other recently to get together. It’s a real offer.”

Rei laughs, bringing a hand to cover her face. “So you don't want to get together?” She looks at him with a deep intensity in her eyes and smiles coyly, making Jungkook swallow hard.

“I said that, didn't I? That’s not what I meant. It’s just that nowadays, words have different meanings. Let me rephrase-”

She takes a step closer to him, and his chest feels ablaze. She’s so close he can smell the fragrance of her clothing much clearer than before. We use the same detergent.

“I’d like to come by sometime,” she says, her eyes lingering on his hands holding his cup, “for a movie, no ramen.” Now she smiles warmly and takes a step back.

She likes doing this to me. It’s torture.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? You seem nice. I don’t think you’d be a freak, right?”

“Right,” he says, nodding.

“I know we’re technically strangers, but you have a good vibe,” she says, shrugging. “I show up here so late, and you serve me tea. You’re a nice guy.”

“Am I?”

“I think so. Are you?” She quirks up an eyebrow, twitching her lips between a smile and a laugh.

Jungkook smiles at her. He feels his cheeks growing warm. “I am. I don’t know why I challenged you about it.”

“Because you like to flirt with me, I think,” she retorts, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I’m just a nice guy,” he says as he places his palms against the kitchen counter for balance, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh.” She glances at her phone screen, reading the time, and Jungkook does the same with the time on the kitchen stove. She's going to leave. I can feel it.

“I guess I should get going…”. Rei looks apologetic for some reason. A pink shade colors her cheeks, and she brings a hand to her forehead and lets out a deep breath as she says, “Kinda hot in here, no?”

Jungkook wants to tell her she doesn't have to go and that he doesn't want her to, but he only offers her a timid smile and looks away, nodding in agreement. “A little. I’ve been feeling it too,” he says, looking at her and catching her eyes.

Should I move now? Is it now? My move? Will she kiss me back?

Still, he brings his cup of tea to his lips as she stores her phone in the pocket of her hoodie, and she pauses as if remembering something. “And why is there a mattress outside?”

He’s drinking his tea and begins to choke. Coughing, his chest on fire, and his throat closing in, Jungkook rushes to double over his sink, and she’s standing behind him with a wrought-up look.

“Are you okay?” She steps closer to him, lightly touching his arm.

Jungkook coughs, clearing his throat; he can feel the blood rushing to his face as his eyes instinctively shed tears. The feeling of her touch on his arm feels like fire. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened. The uh, the mattress?” He looks toward his patio, a panicked look in his eyes behind the tear-stained glasses. He pauses, looking down at the floor. “I have them all over, so I can nap when I feel like it.”

She throws her head back and laughs, not taking him seriously until silence hangs between them. She raises an eyebrow. “Wait, really?” With that, her phone goes off in her pocket, and she reaches for it. “Sorry, one sec.”

He leaves her to talk on the phone with whoever and walks over to pick up Bam’s toys and dirty socks to throw in a hamper. Jungkook can hear the muffled phone conversation a room over, so he hums a song. She speaks in a hushed voice, but he hears his name mentioned.

He coughs before he reappears in the kitchen.

She’s humming to herself, lingering by the door, and his heart squeezes. ‘Don’t go,’ he wants to say. ‘Stay.’

“I should go…” she says, not budging from where she stands, chewing her lower lip, looking at Jungkook through full eyelashes. Almost as if waiting for him to interject, and him, not knowing how to.

“If you want,” Jungkook says. He swallows hard at a lump in his throat. The plead to have her stay pushed down into his chest.

DAMN!!

A look he can’t decipher takes over her face, and then the next moment, she’s smiling at him, reaching for the doorknob just as he does. They share an embarrassed exchange of looks when their hands touch, and he shakes his head, an anxious chuckle escaping him. His face feels warm as he pulls the door open for her. Rei steps out into the hallway, turns over her shoulder, and raises her hand to wave at him slowly.

Again, he yearns to kiss her and again lacks the courage.

“Bye, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight, Rei,” he replies, leaning on the doorframe, his heart sinking into his stomach.

The next day, Jungkook is cooking for himself. He submitted his comic in the morning and has endlessly replayed last night’s events in his head.

“I should’ve kissed her,” he says to Bam.

Jungkook’s phone pings a few times and is followed by a call. He answers, distracted as he serves himself bibimmyeon and pork belly. He props the phone between his chin and ear, tilting his head comically as he walks back and forward to the table, setting down a steaming bowl of sticky rice. “‘Ey, Namjoon-hyung!…” He drags the chair out from underneath and settles in front of his plate. Jungkook reaches over the table, yanks a paper towel, grabs his chopsticks, and begins digging into the rice. “Wait,” he glances at the clock on the wall. 6:47. “It’s almost seven,” Jungkook says, confused. “Your meeting with the record executive started at six… it ended that quickly?”

Namjoon smiles. “The meeting was quick. I have really good news.” He pauses for effect. He’s in the studio, eyeing the email on screen. “Hold on,” he says, placing the phone on the desk and turning the speaker on.

Jungkook is chewing his cheek, the chopsticks loosening in his grip. He lets the silence exist for a few seconds, then he rubs the back of his hair, leaning back in his chair, his spare hand fisted over his mouth. “What?” He grumbles into his fist.

“He liked my demo. He had some comments about it but said it would do well. He said everyone else liked it; whatever that means, we’re in. He said we can come in for a group meeting where we introduce the guys, and that way, we can all talk about what we want to do going forward.”

Jungkook is speechless; they’re in. All seven of them. He can’t believe it. He stares wide-eyed at Bam, who tilts his head quizzically. “No way. No way. Is this for real?” Jungkook’s heart is thudding so hard he can see it beneath his shirt.

“I swear, Jungkook. It is.”

“Do the guys know?” Once more, Jungkook meets the eyes of his dog, and he’s smiling so hard he feels his nose scrunch.

“Some of them do, yeah. I was with Jimin earlier.”

“Yoongi,” Jungkook says, bringing his palm over his forehead. Smiling with his eyes crinkling, he feeds himself rice. “Yoongi will be so happy. We all are, you know but him .” Jungkook makes a sound with his teeth. “He’ll be so proud of all of us.”

“I know, I know. Yoongi hasn’t slept well since we first submitted our demos, and when I mentioned I had a meeting with an executive, he grabbed his jacket and took off to the studio. I don’t know what he’s been doing when he comes in, but I know he might cry.”

“I might cry too,” Jungkook admits in a hushed voice.

Namjoon wipes at his eyes, and a silence hangs between them. They’re both sniveling on the receiving end. After Jungkook clears his throat and allows himself another sniffle, he starts eating again.

“What did you make?”

“I have a lot of rice left. I made bibimmyeon and pork belly, but I have some noodles, too, if you want me to make them. Come and eat with me if you’re free. Let’s celebrate.”

“Can I leave my bike outside?” Namjoon asks. Namjoon shuts off the shared laptop in the studio, grabs his puffer jacket and the book he’s been reading, heads over, and flips off the light switch. His phone remains on speaker as he locks the door and shoots a glance down the hallway. From a distance, Yoongi does a quick two-finger salute in passing. Namjoon’s heart gives a squeeze.

Jungkook thinks it over. He’s never seen anyone leave a bike outside. “I don't know, honestly. Bring it to my apartment; it’ll be fine. I have something to tell you, by the way,” he says, referring to the previous night.

“Just saw Yoongi,” Namjoon says, jingling the keys on his finger and making his way out of the building. “I have to tell him, but I think he’s already in his studio locked up. You know how he gets.”

“He won’t let you in,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose and stifling a laugh through a mouthful of steak.

“Exactly. And what is it? I’m bringing my bike, I thought about leaving it chained, but it’ll stress me out.”

“He’s almost done with his demos, Hobi said the other day,” Jungkook replies. “But it’s about her, bro. You won’t believe me.”

Namjoon laughs through the phone. “Mystery-neighbor-crush her, you mean?”

“Neighbor stuff, am I that annoying? Don't answer that. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you; just come in because I have to wash Bam.”

“All right, bro, give me twenty, and I’ll be there.”

Jungkook is sitting across from Namjoon, who raises an eyebrow at him as he chews on his steak. “So she came in here,” he swallows his bite and continues, “was on that couch?” he signals with his chopsticks, “and she went home after that?”

Jungkook nods. The moment he’s been dreading: admitting he chickened out. He’s not proud of himself and debates whether to omit a few things.

“Yeah, what else could’ve happened?” He takes a drink of his water, avoiding Namjoon’s gaze.

“So many things, bro. But, the very least that should have happened is that you got her number or something like that. Did you ask?”

Jungkook is quiet. His cheeks are flushing with heat. He’s chuckling at himself, remembering how he clammed up around her.

“You just let her leave, right? She walked out, thanked you, and you probably made her a tea she didn't drink.” Namjoon is laughing when Jungkook groans and shakes a fist above his head. “Ah, Jungkook!”

“I know!” Jungkook shakes his head. “But I got a name. I got a name; that’s something, isn't it?”

“Well?”

“It’s Rei. I don’t know where she’s from and all that, but that name just suits her, doesn't it?”

“It does, it does. But come on, bro! This girl lives so close! For starters, she stuck around. She could've just left after explaining herself. Instead, she sat down right where you’re sitting and stayed .” Namjoon feeds himself rice as he shakes his head and continues while he chews, “She looked at you the last time we evacuated; I saw her. And how many times have you bumped into her already? She probably thinks you’re out to get her.”

“I know. I kept thinking the same. I thought: ‘She could've left by now, but she hasn’t. I don’t know, hyung, I just froze. I just kept nodding; it was so stupid.” Jungkook closes his eyes and places his fingertips over his eyelids, shaking his head in lament.

“Not stupid, bro,” Namjoon offers, swallowing his bite. “I’ve seen her around too, and she’s really pretty, but it’s a weird sensation when she’s nearby; it’s like her beauty is different. I don't mean it like I want her now, nothing like that, but it sort of feels like I am stuck too. Like, what can I say right now?”

Jungkook nods, understanding the sentiment. “It knocks the wind out of me sometimes when I see her,” he says, reaching for a napkin. “I wanted to say so much more, but I couldn't. It was different being close to her like we were. This girl is killing me, Namjoon-hyung. You said she looked at me?”

Namjoon smiles warmly. “She did, at the evacuation a week ago. Was it a week now?” He wipes at his mouth and looks at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook nods at him. “Well, a week ago, I went out last and caught her looking your way. She had her hand like this,” he brings his hand up to shield his eyes against nothing, “and she was smiling. She didn't see me noticing.”

Jungkook scoots closer. He rests his chin on Namjoon’s knee, looking straight at him until he’s cross-eyed. “At me?” he asks, loving that this happened.

Namjoon shakes his leg free and takes a sip of his water. “I think she likes you. She was looking at you the same way I’ve seen you look at her,” Namjoon reaches for his phone, checks a text, and continues, “so she would’ve been into you. Did she flirt with you?”

Jungkook mulls it over. He doesn't want to read too much into it, but he thinks she did flirt. “I could be wrong, and I’d hate to be wrong,” he says, “but I feel like she was into me, like, actually into me, and I thought about kissing her. Would that have been too forward?”

“Hmm,” Namjoon says as he chews his food. “Maybe. I have to see you two in action, to say. I think you can trust your gut, and if you felt that way, maybe she was giving you those vibes on purpose, you know? Sometimes girls are so forward that it's confusing. Like, ‘am I reading this wrong?’ When the whole time there was only one way to read it.” He gives his head a light shake.

“She was talkative like Yoongi predicted.”

“Oh, was she now?” Namjoon looks surprised. “I sided with Jimin when he said she seemed shy and kind of mean. Not mean, but you know the mean look girls have that makes them look kind of cool?”

Jungkook nods with a mouthful of steak.

“That’s actually interesting that she was talkative. That’s good. I think you’d do bad to get with a shy chick again.”

Jungkook once dated a girl in high school he didn't know how to talk to, and when he meant to break things off, he’d just ignored her for the entire year. She was too shy, too quiet, too reserved. He was everything else but.

“I agree with you on that,” Jungkook says honestly. “Back to Rei, she’s even prettier up close, hyung. I thought I was in a dream, that sounds so cheesy, but it’s true.”

“It was, what, four in the morning?”

“Three. Close to four.”

“Exactly. I would think that's a dream too. Seems like it. Are you sure you’re not messing with me?” Namjoon elbows Jungkook lightly.

“I want her. Is that so pathetic?”

“A little bit,” Namjoon teases, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to a slight pinch. “Like this tiny little space right here is where you live.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he walks into the kitchen for a beer.

“Honestly, Jungkook, I think she likes you back. Pass me the rice. Want some of the steaks?” He shows Jungkook his bowl, and Jungkook accepts, opening his mouth to be fed. “You can feed yourself.”

“Ah,” Jungkook says, mouth agape. “Just one piece.”

Namjoon is feeding Jungkook rice when the doorbell rings. The two exchange bewildered looks, and Jungkook shuffles from the ground, sliding on the flooring with his socks as he peers through the peephole. He falls to the ground as if shot, crouching with a deathly look about him.

Namjoon shifts in his seat on the floor and, stretching his neck, asks Jungkook who it is. Over and over, quietly, he’s asking who’s at the door.

Jungkook doesn't answer until Namjoon stands. He shoots a hand up to grab Namjoon’s sleeve, motioning him to crouch beside him. Whispering, he says, “It’s Rei; what do I do?”

“Get up!”

“I can't. I can't. I don't know what she wants. What if she knows?”

“Knows what? Get up; I’m opening the door in 3, 2,...”

Jungkook stands. He can feel his heart beating viciously, and his hands are sweating. He glares at Namjoon, raising his hand and motioning for a cutthroat. “I’ll kill you,” he mouths as his friend walks away.

Jungkook peers into the peephole and sees her turning away. He pulls back the door quickly, causing her to turn around. She smiles, and he wants her all over again. His relaxed demeanor vanished. “Hey, what’s going on?” are his first words.

Rei laughs, and he can feel himself blushing. He drops his head when he remembers Namjoon is a witness.

“Hey, neighbor,” she says, smiling the same coy smile she lent him last night. She pulls a paper from her pocket, extends it to him, and says, “It’s an invite to my birthday party this weekend; if you don't have any plans, I thought it would be nice to hang out and see you again. I’ll have friends over, and of course, you can bring yours.”

A party? Wait, see me again?? “I will be there. This weekend. I’ll make an appearance.” He stops talking when she laughs. He can feel the blood boiling on his face. What the hell is going on with him? “Sorry, yes, I mean, thank you.” Jungkook can feel Namjoon’s burning gaze behind him—he can picture how his friend stifles a laugh into his fist.

“No problem. Who’s that?” She points inside the apartment.

Namjoon waves when Jungkook turns around to see him standing behind him, a smirk tugging at his lips. Jungkook widens his eyes at him, mouthing for him to stop laughing. Stepping aside for his friend’s introduction, Jungkook signals toward his friend with a swift movement of his hand. “Namjoon, this is Rei. Rei, this is Namjoon, a good friend and gifter of bonsai trees.”

“I’ve seen you, no?” she talks to Namjoon, who nods, flexing his pointer finger, indicating that she has. He’s chewing cheese puffs, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow at him, silently questioning him: ‘Where did you get those?’ His stare says.

“At the evacuation, I was there.”

“Ah, yes, you had bright green hair like a highlighter pen then.”

He laughs. “That was me, yeah! You were with that girl, the��one with the red hair in pigtails.”

“Ah. That’s right! You have a good memory.” She sounds impressed.

Jungkook tongues his cheek, shaking his head beside them unnoticed.

“You too, you too. Cheese puff?” Namjoon offers a bag of cheese puffs.

“You’re tempting me, but I will have to decline. I just had lunch.”

“Your friend, the one with the pigtails, will she be at this party?”

Namjoon is nervous, but he plays it off well. Only Jungkook can tell.

“I think she can be there,” Rei replies, her eyes shifty and full lips pursing. She seems to think it over, anxiously looking at Jungkook and chewing on her lower lip. It’s as though she’s waiting for Jungkook to glance her way. Only Namjoon is seeing this.

Jungkook is annoyed. They’re talking so easily. He shifts uncomfortably, his fingers gripping the door. He watches how Namjoon chuckles and how she timidly looks down at her hands. The glittery nail polish made his heart feel like a stone in his chest. He wants to interject. But how?

“I’m sure the guys will be free this weekend too; we might celebrate our little accomplishment here sometime soon, so Jungkook can tell you about that and invite you when the time comes, right, Jungkook?”

Jungkook only nods. That’s all he seems to be capable of when she’s around. He feels so strange around her. He feels the same way each time, like he’s coming down with something suddenly. Didn’t it just get so hot out here with the door open like this? He wonders. Is anyone else sweating?

Their voices continue around him. He nods a few times when the conversation shifts toward him, but he feels lightheaded. He wants her so badly.

He doesn’t mean to, but he clears his throat, turning the conversation around him to a simmer.

“So, Jungkook, Namjoon told me he’d come this weekend and bring your other friends. There’s a theme, by the way.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “It’s fairytale-themed!” She raises her arms above her head like a big reveal and holds her pose, awaiting their reaction.

Namjoon laughs, turning away; he says: “I’ll give it good thought! Thank you for the invite, Rei!”

“And you?” She looks at Jungkook.

“Me?” Jungkook swallows hard at a lump in his throat. His brain seems to forget how to form sentences when she’s around.

“Yes, you. Do you have any ideas, JK?” she smiles, lopsided.

Is she flirting with me? Here? Namjoon-hyung! Come back!

“I have to rewatch all of my favorite fairytale movies to have an idea,” he says, bringing a hand to his head. He feels the heat emitting from his forehead. “I’m kidding. I think something cool like Dracula.”

“Is that a fairytale?” She laughs.

“Define a fairytale. Isn’t it just make-believe?”

“You don’t think vampires are real?” She raises an eyebrow at him, but he can tell she’s intentionally giving him a hard time. Her smile is surfacing and betraying her.

“I do, actually. Ah, okay. Give me time. I’ll think of something. What about you? Who are you going as?”

She pretends to think it over even though she already has an idea. “I won’t say; you’ll have to see.”

He’s fully leaning against the doorframe, his foot slipping under him, and he almost falls over. He mutters something to himself, and she’s biting back a laugh. “You want tea or something before you go? If you’re not busy.”

“Ah, I want to say yes, but my friends are upstairs; I just stopped by real quick but thank you.”

He nods. “That’s okay, next time.”

“I’ll catch you two later,” she says, waving.

She turns to walk away, and Jungkook doesn't know what takes over him, but he shouts after her: “Thank you!”

He’s too embarrassed to see if she turns around. He closes the door immediately.

He doesn't even want to look at Namjoon. He stands facing the door for a while, his head hanging low, eyebrows scrunched up in physical anguish. He chews his lip and winces at himself, remembering.

“I said that out loud,” Jungkook says, incredulous with himself.

“You said that out loud,” Namjoon reiterates from somewhere in the room.

Sighing, Jungkook turns over, and flinches at a grape Namjoon tosses at him. His nose scrunching, he catches another grape mid-air and chews noisily. “She wants to know me properly,” he says, with a dreamy air.

“So be her prince charming,” Namjoon jokes, plopping down on his couch, busy on his phone.

“So I will be,” Jungkook says, tilting his head back to look up at his ceiling. She’s up there, walking around, talking to her friends, and he’s beneath her, dreaming of the weekend. “What day is it?”

“Wednesday.”

“Let’s go; I need an outfit.”

“Now?”

“Now, get up! Get up!”

“Let me finish my grapes; I just washed them,” Namjoon whines, still not glancing from his phone’s screen.

“Okay, but after, we’ll go.” Jungkook walks into his room, grabs his glasses, and steps back out.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Jungkook nods, biting the corner of his lip distractedly. “Oh, I’m serious.” He reaches for the car keys on the table beside him. “I’ve never been more serious.”

And he is. He’s never been more serious about anything else. He wants Rei, but he wants her to want him, too. He can’t help but feel as though his luck is turning out.

taglist: @vsualitae

A/N: thank you for being here! I hope those that looked forward to the full first chapter have enjoyed this! It's my first lengthy fic, as I've already stated, so any feedback is greatly appreciated! reblogs, comments, and anything that lets me know you've enjoyed this will make me the happiest writer :') I appreciate you for giving my work a shot <3 Let me know if you'd like a second part, what you liked, etc. I'd love to hear from you, reader >.< until next time!!

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quodekash · 6 months ago

Text

yeah so im gonna make my silly little commentary posts for we are sometimes but not all the time

he stared at his friend's water and started smiling like a fucking idiot 💀

h2o just makes him giddy like that 🥰

also I genuinely fucking adore Pham and Fang's dynamic, they care about each other so much (I might cry)

I JSUT FUCKING LOVE HIM SO MUCH CAN YOU BLAME ME

im sorry, i cant get over the fact that q fuCKING SANG SOUND’S SONG FROM MSP IN THE THIRD FUCKING EPISODE OF THE SHOW

HES JUST SO SMOL I FUCKING ADORE HIM SO MUCH DUDE

here to pick up his twink

HES JUST SO SMOL THO LIKE CAN YOU BLAME ME???

I JUST WANNA RUFFLE HIS HAIR AND PINCH HIS CHEEKS HES SO FUCKING ADORABLE

i think i just really love satang cos during msp every time sound was on screen i lost my shit and now every time toey is on screen i lose my shit

btw i fully had to rewatch that entire scene, i was entirely focusing on satang’s little adorable fuckin face that i forgot to read and process the dialogue lmao

his expression is like “did you bring me here to do your chores, or are you gonna be honest and just say you want to makeout"

the real answer is just that he wants to spend time with him btu doesnt know how to do that normally 💀

(and also that he wants to make out with him)

WHY IS EVERYONE SO FUCKING SMOL TODAY

HES TINY

HES THIS BIG 🤏

OML IT HAPPENED FOR LESS THAN HALF A SECOND BUT I PAUSED IT AT THE EXACT PERFECT MOMENT

I genuinely adore accidental kiss tropes in bls, its just so unrealistic its fucking amazing

[insert image of phum's friends walking in here (I had to delete some of my screenshots because I can only do 30 and I dont want to do more than one post for this)]

AND THEN HIS FRIENDS WALK IN, CLASSIC

it's so awkward and I am LIVING for it

people in bls always walk in at the WORST possible moments and its AMAZING

THIS WHOLE SITUATION IS SO RIDICULOUSLY FUNNY TO ME

phuwin’s character trying to cook is so me

and also my sister, one time she was making spaghetti bolognese for us for dinner and she put way too much salt, and then to attempt to solve the problem, she put water into the pan to "evaporate the salt" 💀

the best part is I didnt even realise why that wouldnt work until my brother started laughing

anyway, back to the ep

WHAT DRUGS ARE IN THIS EPISODE TO MAKE EVERY SINGLE FUCKING CHARACTER SO BABYGIRL

THEYRE ALL SO SMOL AND ADORABLE AND BBG WHAT IS GOING ON

HES SO TINY

Youre fucking KIDDING

IM SO SUDDENLY INVESTED IN THIS MAIN COUPLE

THAT WAS SUCH A SUDDEN SWITCH BRO

literally last week I was like "yeah okay I like it" and then suddenly im on the verge of tears when they make physical contact???

[insert image of pun eating]

PUN !

MY LITTLE GUY

I ADORE THEMMMMM

oh fuck yes I love this friendship already and it just started

AND CHAIN'S GETTING JEALOUSSSSS FUCK YEAH

they look like tired dads fr

is phuwin just fuckin short or is pond like 3 metres tall cos holy shit

LOOK AT HIM

SMOL BITCHES

EVERYONE'S FUCKING TINY TODAY

woah he really just went for it there

HOLY FUCK HE SAID YES

TAN IS LOSING IT HES SO HAPPY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

great frame

[insert that entire scene with the jump onto him and the holding hands and the FUCKING CHEEK KISS]

HES MY LITTLE FUCKING GUY

HES SO NEURODIVERGENT AND I ADORE HIM

KICKING AND SCREAMING MY FEET RN

he's jealoussssssss

I love pun so much, I truly would die for him

Welcome back to another episode of Toey Thinks Peem And Phum Are Dating (And He’s Right)

Im gonna be completely honest, if pond looked at me like that, id probably do whatever he tells me to without a second thought

thats all im saying

LOOK AT THAT LITTLE FACE

HES SINGING THE FUCKING ABAAB SONG

IM CRYING DUDE THIS IS AMAZING

ARE THEY JUST GONNA SING SONGS FROM OTHER BLS FOR THE QHOLE SERIES? IM FUCKIN DOWN FOR THAT DUDE

this song is so out of winny’s range tho 💀

so fucking SMOL

also chains hand just always naturally rests on pun’s shoulder

literally all the time

what im saying here is I think they should kiss

HE DIDNT JUST GRAB HIS WRIST HERE HE GRABBED HIS HAND ERIJKGBNREJB HOLY SHIT

Cool! 👍

im glad they finally got there

FUCK YES NEXT EPISODE WE'RE GETTING THE SCENE FROM THE PILOT THAT MADE ME LOSE MY SHIT

PUNCHAIN FOREHEAD KISS AND QTOEY CHEEK KISS BITCHES

okay now I just have one final question before I take my leave: what the FUCK was the song playing in the background of the qtoey scene near the end of the episode

it was just electric guitar and I KNOW recognise it but I cant figure out what fucking song it was (literally I finished the episode at like 1:30 but didnt go to sleep til 3 because I was trying to find the song)

so please, if ANYONE recognises it and knows what it is, tell me as soon as you can cos Im fucking dying

update: a moot is pretty sure the song played over other qtoey scenes earlier in the show (the same way msp did with noelm) so now im fuckin PSYCHED for the new song that’s gonna come out eventually

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dollfaceksj · 1 year ago

Note

oh godddd #13 was so good!!! dinner is gonna be so awkward between koo and oc 😭 or theyre gonna be giggling abt it

guess u should read this to find out!

i didn’t have the time to betaread and add more inner dialogue and stuff so sorry if its not like the others

taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) #14

masterlist

<- previous ; next ->

did he really just

exit the tent ? with a TENT in his PANTS?

oh he gives no fucks?

wait why are you even worried about him?

YOU NEED TO GET OUT THERE TOO

They’re gonna come looking for you

you quickly adjust your clothes and crawl out of the tent a few moments after jungkook

you use your phone to check what you look like, fixing any out of place hairs and wiping the tears off your cheeks

the stickiness in your leggings is impossible to ignore but whatever right?

you slowly make your way to the table

yoongi’s waving at you

right

yoongi

YOONGI

you stupid slut

how could you?

you go to sit down next to him, smiling at the fact he once again saved you a spot <3

but this time jungkook isn’t across from you

he’s

right next to you :)

so yoongi to your right… jungkook to your left

wow

this is uhhhh

gonna be fun.

😂😂😂😂😂

don’t laugh.

“i was looking for you but you disappeared for a while.” the older man leans into your side to whisper into your ear

you glance at him. “sorry, yoongi. i thought i’d lost my powerbank, i kept searching for it in my suitcase.”

that lie left your mouth too easily you dirty liar

he nods in understanding. “did you end up finding it?”

you nod your head.

“bummer.”

you frown as the word leaves his mouth. “why is that a bad thing?”

“cause it would’ve given me the chance to invite you into my tent and offer it to you so you can use it.”

fuck ur gonna fucking melt

he’s so

YOOONGIIIIII

holy shit

yeah.

“oh, did i mention when i found it again, it was broken? i might have to take you up on that offer anyway,” you say as you nudge him with your elbow

he laughs and shakes his head, gently swatting your elbow away

he ends up wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close, whispering, “don’t start something you can’t finish, y/n.”

your cheeks instantly heat up as his breath hits your ear

he’s so close

you slap his thigh. “how do you know i won’t finish it?”

he lowly chuckles and gosh the sound is so sultry. “i’m not sayin–”

your body suddenly gets pulled out of his enbrace

“can you pass me the napkins?”

you frown.

did jungkook just

forcefully tug you out of yoongi’s embrace?

to ask for napkins??

you turn your head to stare at him in disbelief but yoongi is already handing the napkins to jungkook

for fucks sake

if anyone’s gonna make it obvious it’s that little shit

see what you said??? childish!!!

jungkook quietly thanks yoongi and continues to eat without even so much as glance at you

dumbass.

did he really come sit at the table with a hard-on?

you bring your attention back to your plate of food and start eating, listening to the crazy stories taehyung is telling everyone

“you’re gonna go to the store with jungkook cause we don’t have any paper plates or bread for breakfast tomorrow.” taehyung pulled you to the side to say this

you click your tongue in annoyance. “why do i have to go with jungkook? why can’t you?”

“cause i’m not the one refusing to talk to him.”

you screech, “i talk to him!”

“with all that attitude!” he retorts, “listen, just go easy on him, alright? i know what i said about him but he’s still a sensitive guy, you know? he’s not all that bad, or else he wouldn’t be my friend. you know that.”

he continues, “i just regret giving you this wrong impression of him. he’s been through a lot, i just didn’t want any drama between you two but that clearly backfired.” he sighs. “just… give the guy a chance to show you his true colors. he’s not a bad guy.”

been through a lot?

that reminds you

of the moment in his tent when he showed you his tattoos

and completely shut you out when you asked about his mother’s opinion on his tattoos

what happened to her?

“what do you mean he’s been through a lot?”

he looks around to make sure no one’s listening. “i’ll tell you a bit more about it after you’ve returned. now, chop chop. go before that store closes.”

ughhh

when you start heading toward where the car is parked

jungkook is already leaning against the hood of the car, seemingly waiting for you

you approach him and enter via the passenger seat without another glance at him

he gets in too and buckles his seatbelt

so do you

and he starts driving off

he doesn’t even look up any way to reach the store

does he remember how to get there?

that’s pretty hot.

the ride is silent and the boner in his pants is hard to ignore so you make sure to constantly stare out the window

it’s quiet

uncomfortably quiet

“what would you have done if isabella caught us?” you break the silence

you see him glancing at you in your peripheral vision but you refuse to look at him

he shrugs his shoulders. “it’s not any of her business.”

your head snaps in his direction. “you don’t think you owe an explanation to the people you’re sleeping with?”

he clicks his tongue. “who said i’m sleeping with her?”

you frown. “stop being vague. are you fucking her or not?”

“why do you care?” he quips

“i don’t, i’m just–”

he shrugs his shoulders. “are you fucking yoongi?”

what???

“what?”

“are you fucking yoongi, yes or no?” his hand slides over the steering wheel so effortlessly and it’s so fucking hot

“why does that matter?” you try to backtrack

“it doesn’t, that’s my point.”

damn

he kinda gagged you😭

you cross your arms over your chest and look out the window again. “well, y’all are overly friendly, i thought maybe you were still sleeping with her.”

he shrugs his shoulders again.“does it matter to you who i’m sleeping with?”

you say, “no, it doesn’t.”

yes, it does

“then why do you ask?”

you sigh and glance at him again. “if i say yes, would you honestly answer me?”

“yes, i would.”

you decide not to go in on it any further.

the rest of the ride there is quiet

when you arrive, you both get out but instantly notice the swarm of men by the entrance

jungkook instinctively places his hand on your lower back as he leads you inside the store

the men stare at you like you’re a fucking peace of meat and it’s sickening

you go look for paper plates but jungkook doesn’t want to leave your side

“if you go look for the bread, we can be out of here faster.” you hum as you look around

he scoffs. “you’re fucking ill if you think i’m leaving you unattended like last time.”

oh?

you didn’t know that whole thing still bothered him

you don’t say anything else about it as you look for what you came for, jungkook constantly in your wake as he intently looks around the store

you sigh. “you’re not my bodyguard, you know.”

“you’re my responsibility.”

huh?

no literally what?

you frown. “me? a grown woman? a woman older than you? your responsibility?”

you hate that they act like you’re not an adult

it’s starting to piss you off

“it’s not about who’s older or not, y/n. it’s about the fact that i need to be able to protect you.”

you fully turn your body to him to dace him. “i don’t fucking need protection.”

he stops scanning the store and he looks down at you. “i’m not saying you need protection, i’m saying your friends sent you with me to an unknown area because they trust me to protect you if something were to happen.”

you glare at him and fight the urge to roll your eyes. “how about you be responsible and take care of your erection that’s been hard for an hour?”

he scoffs. “you thinkin’ about my dick?”

“you’ve been brushing it against my ass for the past three minutes, so yes, i am.” you roll your eyes as you turn your back to him again and continue to search for what you came for

he glances down at his pants for a second before letting his eyes roam around the store. “sorry, i’m not trying to do anything weird to you but i just want to stay close to you because of those weirdos, alright?” he angles his hips away from you

you know he’s not doing it on purpose but damn

a few of the men outside have entered the store and you can’t say you don’t notice them staring

you continue to search but jungkook has seemingly gotten even closer to you, both hands on your waist from behind as he continues to guard your back and rear

😒

like…

annoying as fuck!!

girl you know damn well you’re liking that shit

ANYWAYS!!!

you finally have what you need

so you head toward the counter but jungkook already has his card pulled out and presses into the payment terminal

you know… you never noticed until now but

it seems like he’s got quite a bit of money but how? he’s still a student and as far as you know, he doesn’t have a part time job

his part time job is eating pussy apparently

jungkook leads you out the store with the bag in his hand, arm still wrapped around your waist as you walk with him to the car

the other men are still staring at you, even watching as you enter the car

jungkook stands outside your door as you get in before slamming it shut and jogging around the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat

“y/n,” he says

you hum in response and turn your head to look at him

but before you know it, his hand is cupping your cheek and he gently presses his lips to yours

wait

he’s kissing you

you pull away after a few seconds. “what are you doing?”

“sorry for doing that without your permission but at least now they’re not staring anymore,” he buckles his seatbelt and starts the car with an air of nonchalance

you glance at the men and it’s true, they aren’t

so, he kissed you to get the men to stop staring

not because he wanted to kiss you

that’s good

it’d be weird if he wanted to kiss you!!

right?

jungkook starts driving out of the parking lot and back on the road

it’s quiet

music in the background

but the tension is directly speaking to you

your eyes slowly trail to his sweatpants and his bulge is actively staring back at you

damn

should you reciprocate?

he hasn’t mentioned it at all

like he doesn’t expect you to reciprocate

and he didn’t fingerfuck you in his tent just to get a favor back

but

you

really want to

“pull over.”

he glances at you and then frowns at the road. “what?”

“i said pull over.”

concern flickers on his face. “are you feeling sick or something? do you need to throw up? cause i have a weak stomach, i’ll throw up too–”

“just pull over, for fuck’s sake.”

he ends up listening to you, pulling over on this dark empty road is kinda scary

you unbuckle your seatbelt and reach over his lap, pressing the button next to him that locks all the doors

“what are you doing?” he asks, utterly confused

you look into his confused eyes for a moment

“let me make you feel good.” you use the same words he did to you so he gets the memo

he blinks at you a few times until realization sets on his face. “you know you don’t have to do that, right?”

“i know i don’t, you freak.” you get on your knees on the passenger seat and slowly bend forwards, face closing in on his as you flash him your siren eyes. “i want to.”

he stares at you dumbfounded for a few seconds, eyes occasionally dropping to your lips

“shit, fuck, okay,” he breathes out as he tucks his fingers around the hem of his sweats and lifts his hips off the seat to drag his sweats down

you glance at his calvin klein boxers

again

is he rich or something???

something isn’t adding up

your mouth already starts salivating

GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER!

“hey,” he says, pulling you out of your trance

your eyes travel back up to meet his

“you don’t have to do this, okay?”

“and let you have all the fun?” a smirk tugs on the corners of your lips as you reach for the hem of his boxers.

he echoes, “all the fun?”

“hmm, you’re so sure i’ll be wrapped around your finger. it’s your fault i’m determined to watch you break under me too.”

he chuckles quietly, chest puffing. “okay, then, y/n. challenge accepted.”

to be continued

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kandisheek · 10 months ago

Text

FIC REC WEEK 1 – STONY FAVORITES

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: Annie D (scaramouche)

Annie D is a fandom treasure, honestly. Not only is their writing style amazing, but the stories they come up with make me want to just roll around in their brain and soak up the creativity. In a completely chill way, of course.

Here's some of their work that I think you should check out:

The Love Spell

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 16,054 Tags: Getting Together, Light-Hearted, Humor

Summary: Tony wakes up in love with Steve. This is an alarming turn of events, because he wasn’t in love with Steve when he fell asleep the night before. That said, it’s sort of nice? To be in love? He’s enjoying it, anyway.

Reasons why I love it: Tony just tears at my heart-strings in this one. Not because the fic is especially angsty or sad, but because he's so goddamn relatable. I love the way Steve is portrayed in this too, how supportive and caring he is. This fic encompasses a lot of the reasons why I love Stony so much. Definitely give this one a read!

Not a Breakup

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 33,531 Tags: Friends With Benefits, Feelings Realization, Miscommunication

Summary: Tony knew it was a bad idea to start sleeping with Steve. It could mess up team dynamics, make things even more awkward between them in the future, or just plain get in the way of their trying to save the world. Tony foresaw all of the above but not the advent of feelings, and at the most inopportune moment.

Reasons why I love it: I really, really love how Annie D manages to make the smut in this incredibly hot, hilarious and sweet, all at the same time. Sleep-deprived Tony is so much fun, and his exhaustion being the catalyst for this whole thing with Steve? Love it. Miscommunication is one of my favorite tropes, and the way it's done in this fic feels very natural. All in all an amazing fic that you don't want to miss!

A Late-Night Snack, and Other Good Ideas

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 12,117 Tags: A/B/O, Heat Cycles, Alpha Steve / Omega Tony

Summary: Steve's heightened senses means that he always knows when Tony's in heat. One night, he finally does something about it.

Reasons why I love it: Their banter in this is just fucking amazing. And I could cut the sexual tension with a knife, which makes it all the more satisfying when it finally implodes. Plus, I'm always a fan of Steve Rogers Is Not A Virgin, so yeah, this ticks a lot of boxes. Definitely give this one a read if you like A/B/O.

Overhaul

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 18,783 Tags: Getting Together, Unrequited to Requited, Character Study

Summary: Steve knows that Tony has feelings for him and, since he doesn’t return those feelings, has been mildly dreading the day that Tony decides to do something about it. When that day finally arrives, Steve discovers that Tony’s wooing strategy isn’t anything at all like he’d expected.

Reasons why I love it: This story gave me so many Tony feels, and then hit me out of nowhere with an equal amount of Steve feels. It's such a fantastic take on their characters, with truly amazing dialogue. If I could take a pen and underline all my favorite parts, every second sentence would be underlined. It's that good. Definitely a must-read!

There's an App for That

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 17,439 Tags: No Powers, Romantic Comedy, Mild Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Thanks to the modern gig economy, Steve is the successful owner of a break-up service, i.e. people pay him to break up with their partners for them. One day, he gets the first break-up request for Tony Stark.

Reasons why I love it: The concept for this is honestly so cool. I've never read another fic quite like it, and I don't think anyone could do it better than Annie D does it here. It's fun and light-hearted for the most part, but when it hits deep, it hits hard. I love all of it, the happy getting-to-know-each-other parts as well as the angsty-punch-in-the-gut parts. The way they end up together feels so natural, it's all really well written. Definitely check this one out!

Stuck in a...

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 13,005 Tags: A/B/O, Mating Cycles, Alpha Steve / Omega Tony

Summary: Steve gets into a serum-enhanced rut. Tony figures that there’d be a long list of people who’d volunteer to help Steve out, but there’s only one person Steve wants.

Reasons why I love it: Steve almost losing his mind because he wants Tony so much but holding himself back to protect him? Um, yes, please. This fic executes the hormone-riddled alpha trope flawlessly, and the conclusion is hot as hell. Plus, omega Tony is a complete delight. I'd recommend this fic to anyone who likes A/B/O.

#marvel #stony #fanfic #fic rec #fanfic rec #fanfiction recommendation #a year in fanfic recs

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saltyskeletonkidpasta · 1 month ago

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I dont get why people like jack gibson. Not only do I think he's annoying and irrelevant I also think he so so gross and creepy and somehow the writers and fans love him?

I just cannot get over him implying he didn't need p*rn after maya made a comment about her and carina in the next room. Like hello these are supposed to be your friends have some respect it's not hard to not be creepy. And like dropping the pot of sp**m all over the carpet and he didnt even clean it him clean it up they made maya do it...absolutely revolting how the HELL is that supposed to be funny? If you found 5x16 funny please stay away from me I dont trust you. And to top it off another gross seed joke..which we already had like him giving them flowers would've been sweet but he immediately ruined it unnecessarily, and him making the entire thing abt himself like I dont wanna know what kind of porn he's into, I dont care abt what he wants/his involvement. I dont get how people think he is so kind and considerate like have you ever heard him talk? The locker room scene fe pissed me off so much like at what point was any of that to do with helping his friends out? It was all me me me..that was his whole motivation. He even went as far to call marina's potential kid a "little him" which after maya melted at the idea of a little CARINA that's like..devastating then was banging on about his "legacy" or whatever like mate this isnt abt you..even in 5x16 maya and carina having their discussion abt a pretty serious issue (being their trust) and jack just butts in like "uhhh well this isnt helping MY issue tho like seriously? Idk why the writers had to make Jack's bio family appear in that way like could they not do it ANY other way? And even if they really did have to do it that way there is no excuse for ALL of the focus to be in HIM and what HE wants and the disgusting dialogue used along with the annialation of carina's character. No one in there right mind would go for that and they even went as far to have carina freak out abt the idea of him NOT being involved right infront of maya aswell? That is so disrespectful to maya and to carina's character and to queer women in general. Carina had always been the smart independent mature one so fuck knows what the writers were thinking? And then it was all completely irrelevant anyway. They didnt even really delve into Jack's bio fam much and carina barely even cared he left.

Also he eats chicken in literally the grossest way I've ever seen then put the bone in the BEDROOM BIN like that is just gross who tf does that especially when it's not even your own house?

And he literally stood right outside marina's bedroom door while they were having sex and after his previous gross comment abt him being able to get off on that..that's disgusting🤢 I dont get what the writers were thinking like they do know who their audience is right? I dont get how they can read over anything in that storyline and think "oh yeah this is so good people will love this"💀 that's actually embarrassing for them but also they're disgusting for even trying it. Ngl I'm pretty sure queer women dont like being fetishised by straight men and like having sex in the same vicinity esp after comments like that..I mean he even asked maya if carina was like "good and ready" or something like bruh..you dont ask that!? I'm sorry but I dont care how awkward he is, I'm very awkward myself but I'm not creepy. It's just human decency to respect boundaries and not say things like that but jack had never respected boundaries throughout the entire show but this was the worst of what we saw of him but they didnt even have him leave afterwards😭 literally all they had to do was change Maya's line slightly like no dont go play music loudly get the fuck out!

That and exposing marinas private info to andy AND vic without permission..he had absolutely no right to tell them especially andy as it was really soon after and marina specifically said they wanted to wait and discuss things further before the next steps and he just blurted it out first chance he got.i really wish they'd let them have a go at him for that. Okay marina should've been much more clear and set proper boundaries beforehand and it would've been nice if paperwork was mentioned but still he is supposedly a "trustworthy guy" (despite him always being the least reliable and most likely to cause trouble on the team since day 1 but the writers were hell bent on giving him another redemption arc) and that is such a break of trust. Then with no consideration to the team or any of his friends just bails without a warning and left the station leaving andy at one of the most traumatic times of her life and left little pru after she lost her dad and lied to everyone yet was literally down the street for like 3 months...

He bailed on the clinic after like 2 sessions of it being open then ben and carina carried it to keep it going they could've very easily let it go under especially carina as she doenst even work at the station? Yet first thing he does when he sees it again is criticise..its not like they were scaring people off the clinic always looked super busy? He is just so ungrateful to what he has.

He made maya's injury all abt himself in 6x07 and how hard it would be for HIM to lose her and was confiding in he literal wife abt this then didnt even go and visit maya in hospital or find out if she was okay? And dont get me started on the whole pam thing in 6x09..listen I didnt like pam but you cant just go peeking in a private medical cubicle especially when you literally k ow there is a pregnant woman in there?!? And the absolute AUDACITY to accuse carina of cheating with his track record. So glad ben put him in his place especially when he implied he'd interfere if it was ben and bailey aswell like how fucking rude are you? but then it ended with him getting coddled again with him being sad boi :( and ben being like "dont worry you arent losing ur family" like this isnt abt you jack..also YOU are the one who bailed on the team and keeps disrupting its trust..? Thays just being a hypocrite like what abt you and andy, You and eva, you and maya, you and vic you and eva AGAIN? Like he was criticising carina when less than a month before he was sleeping with his dead teammates wife who he also slept with when he was still alive and was some what to blame for his death?

I hate him idc what anyone says he is the worst character simply bc he was so unnecessary. Like the only way the writers could keep him relevant was shoving him into business he didnt belong in.

#station 19 #grey's anatomy #rant #jack gibson #station19 5x16 #station19 6x09 #travic #andyherrera #maya x carina #travis montgomery #maya bishop #carina deluca

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cringecompanionapologist · 10 months ago

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This Might Just Be a Series of Mini Essays About the Enlightenment Novelization

I re-read the novelization of Enlightenment and took a bunch of screenshots as notes. The focus was naturally specifically on Turlough and his arc because me.

Let's Go!

So, we begin where we begin with Tegan and Turlough playing chess.

Note that Turlough is playing black. In the TV version, he's playing white.

The symbolism of him playing either side is related to his arc in the story and the Black Guardian. The novelization symbolically shows his alignment with the Black Guardian while the TV version foreshadows his defiance.

As a side note, the color symbolism of black and white is a thing with Turlough. His school uniform is mostly black and he's always wearing it, so he always dresses in black by default. This was intentional as part of the color palette of this TARDIS team. Mild-mannered heroic Five is in beige and white. Tegan often wears bold colors and has a variety of outfits to match her bold and expressive personality. Turlough wears somber and often villain-coded black. Even after he stops working with the Black Guardian, he's still the most pessimistic member of the team and somewhat morally ambiguous.

But, in Planet of Fire, his final story and the one time he wears something other than his uniform, his outfit is all white. He proves himself to be a hero. It's also fitting that in the story where his secrets are revealed, his outfit is more revealing.

Yeah, colors are fun.

I love how Turlough actually gets really into this chess game and just wants Tegan to play with him. That's actually kind of adorable.

Anyway, the White Guardian tries to communicate with the Doctor but he can't finish speaking because Turlough messed with the power. This wasn't an act of sabotage on his part. The White Guardian was using up the TARDIS' power by being there and he thought they were gonna blow up. Still, the Doctor is Not Happy.

Since Turlough is allowed to touch the console again after this, this line is kind of weird. The TV line makes a little more sense:

So, back to the White Guardian. Turlough either knows who the White Guardian is or is just able to guess that he has something to do with the Black Guardian.

The Doctor and Turlough go out to explore and discover that they're on a ship, and then it's onward to chapter 2. Here, we get an interesting little moment:

This is also in the TV version, though there it's expressed in dialogue instead of body language:

The Doctor doesn't progress with the adventure unless Turlough is okay with it. He doesn't have this dynamic with anyone else. He can usually assume that his companions will just follow him around wherever and he doesn't ask if they actually want to move forward. But, the Doctor acknowledges Turlough's fear, not progressing until he's ready.

This is one of many reasons the Doctor gains Turlough's trust. Unless there's no other option, he doesn't tell Turlough what to do or make him do anything. He doesn't put any pressure on him. If the Doctor knows about the Black Guardian, and I think he does, he never confronts Turlough about it. If he did, even if he was gentle about it, Turlough would panic. So, the Doctor pretends not to know. This attitude extents to everything. The Doctor never puts any pressure on Turlough.

So, when Turlough is ready, they go and meet the crew. It doesn't come across quite so strongly in the TV episode, but Turlough is very uncomfortable around the sailors.

So, we have a moment that's comedic in the TV version:

"Doctor" is apparently slang for the ship's cook and Turlough laughs. As nervous as he is, he's comfortable enough to laugh. But, that isn't really the case in the novelization:

It's just the Doctor explaining what's going on. There's still the awkward moment of the Doctor thinking he's been expected, but Turlough doesn't laugh. That makes him seem more uncomfortable.

Turlough spends most of the scene expecting a confrontation.

Throughout this story, there are references to Turlough being bullied. I'm guessing he was bullied a lot at Brendon and has come to anticipate it. Of course, this ship isn't a high school and these sailors are actually pretty chill. They probably never intended to bully Turlough. But, he expects it now. He assumes that people are going to hurt him if those people are able.

The fact that Brendon was a shitty school and that the British public school in general isn't a very good environment comes up a lot with Turlough, mainly as a running gag. Only in the EU is Turlough's experience at Brendon taken seriously. Since the novelizations were written before most of that, this might be the first time the fact that Turlough was traumatized by whatever happened at Brendon is made clear and taken seriously. He was, at least he thought he was, willing to kill to get out of there after all.

This is why the Doctor doesn't put any pressure on him. It doesn't take much for Turlough to feel like he's under attack. The Doctor wants to make it very clear that he isn't.

Also, Turlough assumes that the reason the sailors aren't bullying him is that the Doctor is there. He sees the Doctor as having more control of this situation than he probably does, along with assuming the sailors will be more mean to him than they probably intended. This is the connection to the Doctor that Turlough has. The Doctor has proved not to be a threat and now he keeps the threats away.

Because of this, Turlough starts to care about the Doctor. He prioritizes self-preservation and now he's met someone who's beneficial to his survival. This has an emotional impact. The Doctor cares about him, so he starts to care about the Doctor. This is broken down in the text of the novelization:

In chapter 3, Turlough spends more time with the sailors, trying to figure out what's going on and they all get called aloft.

He feels protected by the Doctor, has started to care about his well-being, and now about what the Doctor thinks of him, wanting to impress him. That's adorable.

Anyway, it's time to go aloft!

It's also time for alcohol. The alcohol makes the sailors not question that they're Edwardian ship is in space. Jackson doesn't drink though, so it's never said how they control him.

What's missing from the novelization here is that Jackson kind of adopts Turlough on the spot.

Turlough is too confused to take the Evil Magic Alcohol.

But, Turlough doesn't know Jackson for long enough to form any bond with him, so his saying he'll look after him doesn't seem to register. He doesn't go aloft, leaving the reveal that they're in space for a little bit later. Instead, he the Doctor finds him again.

This exchange is a bit longer in the show. The novelization cuts both this and an earlier exchange where the Doctor kind of teases Turlough about his claims of cowardice. Turlough always smiles when he does this, so it feels like an in-joke between the two. Turlough is somewhat cowardly, but he is playing it up a little. The Doctor knows this, but he lets him keep doing it. They both know what's going on here.

These moments are actually what drew me to the 5/Turlough dynamic. 5 gets fed up with his companions a lot, sometimes bickering with them, sometimes snarking about them. This was the first moment I'd seen of 5 bantering with a companion, not annoyed with them, but just playfully teasing. It feels like he actually likes having Turlough around despite his flaws, something we really never got with Adric and will continue to rarely get with Tegan. Nyssa's flaws were downplayed in the show, so the Doctor seemed to like her because she was "the good one". But, 5 seems to find Turlough's flaws amusing and can joke about it with him. It stands out from anything else I'd seen from 5 at that point.

Anyway, this is very I hit a point where I had fewer notes. I don't have much to saw for chapter 4. This novelization has 16 chapters, with a fairly even divide so it feels like there's 4 chapters per episode. Chapters 1-4 cover part 1, 5-8 part 2, and so on. So, the book's pacing matches up to the TV pacing pretty well.

That's why I'm covering chapters 1-4 in this post. Chapter 4 is where we reach the first cliffhanger of the serial, a fitting stopping point.

I only have one screenshot from chapter 4:

There are several scenes in the episode around this point where the Doctor and Turlough seem to move closer to each other than they expected to and are surprised by the closeness. It's subtle enough to not be a deliberate use of a shipping trope, but damn.

#enlightenment #classic who #doctor who novelization #fifth doctor #vislor turlough #five/turlough #tag for just this enlightenment recap

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mamasplat · 6 months ago

Note

ooooooooo ive been keeping up with the huge thread.. <3333

is the fic smth you actually want to do? id read it 👍

have you got a timeline in mind?

also hows the run going?

im still in the middle of playing y, im almost at the snowy city, check out my squad 💪💪💪💪💪🐺

The true Calem run is coming along great, I only have one spot to fill in my team and I just got through the power plant!

Now regarding actually writing the Kalos vs amour story, I want to, I’d LOVE TO. It’s something younger me wanted so badly to do- however I am not exactly confident in my writing.

I’ve dabbled under a few sites with a lot of different “pen names” if you will, and I’ve never been too fond of my own work. I struggle with coming off as redundant when I use one word too much without realizing till after the fact, but in my defense! I’m entirely self taught with reading and writing so It’s surprising I’m even a little bit literate.

I can’t say I have the confidence to get a beta reader either as that would mean letting someone read my messy work which- yeah that kinda makes my skin crawl. So it could be a great exercise for me! But it would be a big step. I haven’t publicly written anything since 2019 and it was all small fandom stuff.

But I do have a rough list of story beats? Kinda? Ideas really.

Serena leaves for her journey on a whim to see ash, but in the process she neglected to tell anyone other than her mother. Which means Calem would have no clue where she went until he went to Grace. The dialogue “I was starting to worry until I saw you on pokevision” definitely dings around my skull a bit.

He was a member of the summer camp team with Shauna Trevor and Tierno, he was just too shy to talk to Serena again after she up and left without warning, especially seeing her proximity to a guy who is wearing HIS EXACT JACKET

Yeah no I’m making that a thing, the fact him and Ash dress nearly identically is going to freak him out in some way.

When I envision this as animated scenes, I can see him as a faceless character watching from the sidelines. Obscured but noticeable, coming to a head at the end of the episode where there’s a scene between him a Shauna. In a cabin kitchen at camp, It reveals him and Shauna specifically are traveling together. His face still unseen she’d pry at him for information on why he was so distant and why he hid from Serena. He’d dodge the question with an ever brooding “I don’t know” and the silence would linger as whatever midnight snack is being prepared. A camera angle change and turning to face Shauna for the first time during the conversation it ends with a single line. “Who was that guy she was with anyways?”

We would then see him again officially in a later episode with the appearance of Shauna, he and Serena finally reconnect over an awkward apology for her sudden absence. He’s familiar with Serena, his behavior is starkly different around her to anyone else- even Shauna. And while it might not peek anyone else’s concern it would get Bonnie’s gears turning, the kid is perceptive and comes to the conclusion Calem likes Serena, but that also turns into distrust thanks to Calem’s inherent standoffish nature. She would recognize him as “no good”

Also insert plot of Ash being super hyped like “oh yeah! New rival! Let’s go!” And Calem being violently uncomfortable around this hyper short stack who is dressed just like him and traveling with his run away neighbor-

If you couldn’t tell, I’d have no clue how to pov this. A third person pov makes the most sense but with a shift in focus from our main cast to Calem and Shauna- idk-

I’ve put more thought into this as actual anime episodes rather than written pages, so it’s all art stuff in my head and might translate weird to a fanfic

#kalos vs amour posting #certified egg #kalosshipping #amourshipping

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nebelihood · 4 months ago

Text

BOOK REVIEW: LIKE WATER FOR CHOCOLATE

Disclaimers:

SPOILERS/ I haven't finished the book (But I watched the movie so I already know how it's gonna end hehe)

This is not a book review (HAHAHA OK I JUST REALLY REALLY WANNA VENT SOME STUFF ABOUT IT AND WRITTING "BOOK REVIEW" SEEMS PRETTY AND IT MAKES ME FEEL COOL)

This will be poorly written (I write how I speak and I speak very wrongly so-)

I read the book in spanish so I hope things aren't too different in other languages

LET'S START.

QUICK SUPER FAST SUMMARY WITH NO SPOILERS:

It's a very good book (bruh HAHA). OK BUT IT IS A VERY GOOD BOOK. It's super short. It plays with time so as it's explaining something to you, it involves the past, the present and the future AND I LOVE THAT. Cause sometimes I don't know where I am and what things have happened already and what hasn't. It uses a lot of uhmm... how is it called? imaginary resources? It uses a lot of magical realism AND I LIVE FOR THAT. THERE ARE SO MANY SCENES I WANNA ANIMATE JUST BECAUSE THEY FEEL SO POETIC AND INCREDIBLE TO PICTURE. Not that I understand them, but it's just so magical to read them.

Honestly, some stupid theories I thought while reading was Tita had super powers or something, or she's crazy and everything described is all in her mind. But I would very much prefer to believe, all those things are real in that universe.

Anyways, good book. Short, it has a lot of cooking recipes (It's unknown to me if people would be able to copy them by just buying this book but who knows, maybe) a lot of magical realism and incredible pictures. I HAVE TO MENTION- that this book wouldn't exactly be for kids as it references adult relationships and many of the imaginary resources come from private body parts or mildy... LIKE NOT DISGUSTING THINGS, just not... average things? Idk- If I had to describe it in a way. It's a kind of book that is like when you see someone naked and it's not supposed to be sexual or awkward. It's like you are drawing a model and take it as art.

MY BONE TO PICK WITH CHARACTERS (SPOILERS)

I hate Pedro WTF PEDRO I HATE YOU SMM WHY ARE YOU EVEN AN OPTION???? AERGHH I'M SO MAD- I'M GONNA MAKE A PRO AND CON LIST.

Pedro:

Pros

-He dated Tita and they were supposed to be these super in love kids and teens and adults. (DUDE I DIDN'T EVEN GET TO SEE THAT. I DON'T SEE IT, WHEN? WHERE? I ONLY WITNESSED WHEN HE DECLARED HIS LOVE, AND ONE OR TWO MENTIONS OF THEM DATING OR DOING SOMETHING TOGETHER?? AND THEN?? NOTHING? LIKE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIKE HIM AT ALL? I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HIM??? I DON'T CARE ABOUT HIM- of focus, focus)

-He loves Tita I guess (He does,I guess,,, after all these years, it's true- he never forgot about her, I'll give him that)

-He's nice with Tita? (I mean what else is he supposed to do if he likes her? I can't think of anything else tbh. Let's go to the cons.)

-He's Tita's same age (Oh right)

CONS

-HE MARRIED TITA'S SISTER TO BE CLOSER TO TITA (WOW WAAAAAW WOW *SARCASTIC CLAPS* REEEEAAAAAL GENIUS MOVE, DUDE. YOU TOTALLY NAILED IT. OK- for the sake of continuing. Maybe, yeah- let's say he didn't have any other option! Let's say that if he didn't marry Rosaura, he'd have never seen Tita again. Let's continue)

(it's still pretty stupid, ugh)

-He has no personality (I honestly don't know anything about him. I just know he likes Tita. All the scenes where he has dialogue, I feel nothing from him. It's like a wall that does what the scene asks him to do. Idk maybe I was bias from the beginning because of the movie- AND I LOVED HIM AT THE BEGINNING OF THE MOVIE)

-He does nothing. He only does what he's told. (I understand Mamá Elena was super terrifying. But like, he didn't even try to fight. He just accepted to exist there, married with someone he didn't like and SABROSEANDOSE a Tita all the time.)

-Then he was just h*rny all the time for Tita. (idk- what about chatting? you know? maybe this isn't just that type of book)

-He was too jealouse and possesive despite HIM BEING ALREADY MARRIED TO TITA'S SISTER??? HAVING HAD 2 KIDS?? (Tita queen, she told him exactly that. LIKE HE DOESN'T MIND GOING OUT OF HIS WAY TO MAKE TITA FEEL BAD, OR GETTING UPSET AT HER FOR FINALLY HAVING A CHANCE TO BE HAPPY WITH SOMEONE ELSE.)

-He's dumb and impulsive

-When he's jealous of a man, he wants to break people's faces off.

John

Cons

-He's way bigger than her. IDk the number but he saw her when she was a child. He was married before and had a child.

hmmm can't think of anymore? maybe??

-He has a kid?? But Tita likes kids I think, so?

Pros

-He's understanding and kind.

-He took care of Tita when no one did.

-He took her in untils she was completely fine. Even if she was kind of mean to him or wouldn't talk to him at all. He let her be as she pleased.

-He comforted her when her mom was JUST HORRIBLE with her.

-He proposed or signaled his interest on her in front of her mother despite mamá Elena's protests.

-HE APPRECIATES HER A LOT AND HE'S PROUD OF HER.

-He FORGAVE HER INFIDELITY AND WASN'T EVEN MAD ABOUT IT. HE STILL WANTED TO MARRY HER AND IF SHE DIDN'T. HE STILL SAID HE'D BE VERY HAPPY FOR HER.

-OK AND MATERIAL THINGS AREN'T EVERYTHING BUT HE'S A DOCTOR AND OWNS A PRETTY COOL HOUSE, SO-

Hmmm those things are the ones I can think of rn. When I finish the book I'll see If I add more

#book review #nebelihood #like water for chocolate

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jankwritten · 2 years ago

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i think one of my biggest gripes with TSATS is the sentence structure and the way that things are phrased.

Sentence structure: the book is CONSTANTLY using ", and", or "then", or "but" instead of splitting up a phrase into two separate sentences. Once I noticed it, I couldn't stop noticing it. In some places it works fine, but right out the gate, as the first line of chapter one, it 1) caught my attention in a negative way and 2) felt immediately clunky and awkward.

The way that the book demonstrates action also feels unnatural and doesn't flow as well as it could. Things are described as happening "now", such as when Kayla takes her lolipop out of her mouth and holds it at her side, the book narrates it as "now holding the lolipop at her side". We didn't SEE that action occur, we're just being described the RESULT of the action, does that make sense? As a reader, you want to SEE the action, you want to SEE her tug the lolipop out of her mouth, see her hand hang by her side as her expression pinches with anxiety over the discussion. We don't want to just be told that "now" her lolipop is out of her mouth, y'know?

There are also sentences that just feel flat out unedited, phrases that have too many words for what they want to accomplish, or with a structure that doesn't make sense - like on page 56, the sentence "They raced up the steps to the platform, Nico easily outrunning his boyfriend, though that was mostly due to Will having to get his land legs again."

First of all - why are they running up the platform? In the previous line, where we're told their cab driver got them to the station with 6 minutes to spare, the specific choice of saying "to spare" makes it sound like there is plenty of time to make it to their train. In the sentences after, we even learn that Nico and Will wound up waiting for their train anyway, so, the fact that they're running when Will feels sick reads...weird, to me. If I was car sick, and then somebody forced me to run for no reason, I would not be a happy camper.

Second of all - The addition of the final third of the sentence, after the second comma, should be it's own phrase. It should be given it's own space, like "(though that was mostly because Will didn't have his land legs back yet)." because it's not important information, just an offhanded comment Nico is making.

Third of all - "though that was mostly due to" and "having to get his" are clunky and wordy. It could've just been "Nico easily outrunning his boyfriend, who didn't have his land legs back yet." It's a smoother sentence that doesn't get bogged down by the extra words.

And that's just one instance. This book is LOADED with moments like this, where action will get lost in a sentence's wordiness. The book tries to be quick and snappy, in Riordan's style, but it fails because it can't quite nail down the phrasing.

There are also moments where the only thing the characters are interacting with is each other, only grinning, grimacing, sighing, glancing at one another, etc etc, instead of doing actions while they speak. Fidgeting with their hands, shifting from side to side, looking away at their surroundings, that kind of stuff is how you convey a MOOD. Body language is important when writing character conversations!! Is somebody relaxed, or are their shoulders tensed up, arms folded across their chest with their muscles flexed, leaning back on one leg with their body halfway tilted away, as if they were ready to flee at a moment's notice? These are the kind of details that I'm missing in TSATS, the kind of things that feel like they're missing.

I also have a lot of gripes with the dialogue itself.

People don't talk like they do in TSATS. The content of what they're saying is realistic enough, sure, yeah, but the specific way that a lot of the dialogue is phrased? It doesn't feel natural. Try reading some of the sentences out loud without editing any of the words. It doesn't sound the way a human being SPEAKS.

THAT'S what I mean when I say these characters are OOC. The way that they're speaking is uncomfortable and feels as if they're being used as a puppet, or a mouthpiece for what somebody ELSE wants them to say.

#tsats #tsats spoilers #like just from a reader's standpoint this book feels offputting and weird!!!#it makes me genuinely want to do a rewrite where I go through and I don't change any of the plot #I don't change any of how anything goes #I just edit the phrasing and dialogue to make it more natural #the book sets no mood!!!! it doesn't commit to itself!!! it tries to be too many things at once and doesn't fully settle onto any of them #and then comes out SWINGING when it does try to do something which just comes across as heavy handed pandering !!!!!#GAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#like I want Nico and Will to be consistent with how they feel throughout the book. I want them to DEMONSTRATE #Consistency and not constantly swinging between their extremes of being scared or angry or sad #I want them to slowly become more and more skeptical of each other until they're forced to come to terms with the fact that #they both have darkness inside of themselves and each other that they have to accept and love!!!#I see so many people who are like 'omg but they talk to each other about their feeligns!!!! it's so sweet!!!!' when the 'talking' they do #isn't anything SUBSTANTIAL. Throughout the whole beginning of the book Nico is writing off Will's fears about tartarus and ignoring #everybody being concerned for him and he doesn't talk about any of it! THAT'S NOT HEALTHY!!!!#ugh. just. ugh.#pjo #nico di angelo #will solace

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starseneyes · 2 years ago

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Chenford REWIND- Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 5 - Ep 1

That's right, folks, I've been talked into going back to the beginning of Season 5 (which is when I was first talked into watching this show... I'm sensing a theme, here).

SPOILER ALERT: This is going to spoil the entirety of Episode 1 of Season 5, and may reference past The Rookie episodes and Chenford moments. Please abandon ship NOW if you don't want spoilers.

Episode 1 of Season 5 was juicy, but it was also heartbreaking in a number of ways. What do I mean? Well... I'll tell you... after the "Keep reading"...

Previously On... Snogging Your Boss

To catch everyone up, Season 4 ended with Tim and Lucy awkward with one another after they lip-locked while attempting to get under the skin of their alter-egos, Dim and Juicy. That was a delicious scene, but we're in Season 5, now, so let's see where Lucy is...

Dreaming of Said Lip-Lock

Lucy is smiling in her sleep thinking not of her "work in progress"... but of her SO (who she wants to be her SO... if you know what I mean).

I've gone back and forth on whether this is an un-used take, or whether it was shot for the episode. Perhaps one of y'all can illuminate, if you know.

But with the track-around shot being so bloody perfect, and no signs that this alternate angle was used in any of the footage that we see in Season 4's finale, I keep thinking it was shot just for Lucy's dream.

Lucy Chen is having a sexy dream about Tim Bradford. (that one's for my Miggy mutuals out there).

Not only that, but she's making him a little more assertive in her dream... cupping her face with his hand, pushing the kiss deeper as her lips part. Lucy wants Tim to take charge. Yowza!

The knock at her door coincides with the door-interruption in her dream, and Lucy wakes rudely, shaken from the very nice feeling dream. (and then she shakes a very flimsy bed that will need an upgrade if Tim and Lucy are ever to share it... just sayin')

Tamara opens the door (can't believe Tamara c*ck-blocked Chenford in two different episodes in two different realities back-to-back), and steps in. She's worried about her Mom/Roommate.

"I could blow off class, if you want. We could go shopping. See a movie." "I'll be fine. I'm not going to be anywhere near Rosalind. Tim and I are station-bound waiting for the phone to ring." "On your undercover thing?" "Yeah, the original go-time fell through and it's just been radio silent ever since."

Thank you, expositionary dialogue, for helping catch us up. Look, it's one of those necessary evils, sometimes, when you're trying to quickly bring viewers up to speed. Some people can do it well, and some people really can't.

My husband is a huge Star Trek fan. I mean, I'm a fan... he puts the fanatic in fan, if you know what I mean. He has a USS Hood hoodie, for goodness sake.

Anyway, he once learned that there were certain actors who were given all the expositionary dialogue on Star Trek: The Next Generation because others totally botched it. I'll let you figure out who.

Here, with confirmations, affirmations, and back-and-forth dialogue, we've gotten through that a little smoother than if one person monologued it for us.

"This the same undercover thing you and Tim were discussing the other night?"

Mom just got called for making out with her "friend" by her daughter. Yikes! And while Lucy's face screws up trying to determine which emotion to display, Tamara watches, the teenage snark at the ready for anything her Mom uses to deflect.

"I already told you, that kiss didn't mean anything." "Right. Right. It was for the case! Make out. Stop crime. That totally tracks."

Thank God I wasn't drinking anything the first time I heard this line, because I would have spat it clear across the room in a fine spray of incredulity.

Because Tim and Lucy weren't just kissing, there. That kiss had several distinct mouth movements of deepening from lips colliding, to smoothing into it, to a breath of air before diving deeper for more.

Tim was about to go fishing for Lucy's tongue if that door hadn't opened.

Lucy has a lot going on. We know from end of Season 4 that she's aware of her growing feelings for Tim. Watching him fake his engagement struck an unexpectedly dissonant cord.

But that doesn't mean she's ready to face them. Tim having Ashley and her having Chris helps create a boundary... right?

"Go to school!" "Okay. Well, have a great day. With your boss. Who you kissed."

Lucy can try to deny it all she wants, but when Tamara walked in the other night, Lucy's hands were on Tim's chest. Her eyes were closed. His hands were on her arm, and they were decidedly not sharing a peck. They were snogging, and it would have been a while before they stopped—if they stopped—had Tamara not walked in.

And Lucy's been trying not to think about that. Look at how she squirms when Tamara walks out.

Because, while we know that Tim had his Moment of Realization when he left Lucy's sight, she has no idea about any of that.

She knows that they tried to talk about it at work the next day, and he didn't mention anything between them. So, she's compartmentalized that it's all in her head... not knowing he's done the exact same thing.

Because while Tim and Lucy can be very different people, there are places in their lives where they align like mirrored puzzle pieces, designed to fit together, yet unaware until they shift into the right positions (heh).

Both of them are rationalizing, burying, and trying to pretend it meant nothing. For one thing, they're both with other people right now, and neither is a fan of cheating. Secondly, this is a big deal.

Tim hasn't dated within the Station since his wife, and they were Rookies together. Lucy hasn't dated within the Station since she dated Nolan and she swore off cops as potential partners.

Not to mention their friendship that has built over the years. They're finally in a good place. Do they really want to risk this comfortable place where they've finally arrived? Is it worth it?

They don't know, yet. So, they're both spiraling.

"You kissed Lucy?"

Let's not pretend Angela doesn't know what's up. Girlfriend is a detective and she happens to be Tim's best friend. When he was spiraling because Caleb took Lucy, he called Angela. Why? He needed to talk it out.

And much as Tim used to complain about Lucy doing it in the Shop with her love life, he does the same thing... when it comes to Lucy.

Angela knows that Tim needs to talk it out because he's spiraling emotionally, and he doesn't handle that well on his own. So, he needs an outside perspective.

Keep in mind, this is days after their kiss. Tamara said, "the other day". So, not yesterday... but sometime in the last week or so. Tim hasn't been able to get Lucy's lips (and their taste) off his mind in days, so he is finally cracking and calling in Angela for the assist.

"No. No. Dim kissed Juicy. Okay? Or, Jake kissed Sava. Whatever."

Tim, honey, there's a river I need to tell you about... It's one I feel like you must've visited before called... DENIAL. You can't rationalize away feelings, Timmy, my boy. It doesn't work that way.

Angela's smirk game is PEAK at this moment. This is all she needed to know that Timothy is getting in his feels about his former Boot. And, let's be real, Angela knows a thing or two about feelings that can't be denied. She'll be the least judgy about all this... but she'll also be the most brutal in her teasing.

"The point is, we had to be comfortable going undercover, so we practiced being a couple." "How much did you practice?"

Angela Lopez, te amo. You are now my hermana and we're going to get along famously because you called Tim out so effortlessly. I always knew I liked you!

Tim is not happy with it. He really wants someone to agree with him and help him rationalize what he can't loosen from his head (and heart).

Kissing Lucy felt good. Kissing Lucy felt right. He didn't want to stop. He wanted to keep kissing her. And when Tamara walked in, he felt like he'd been caught. Why does he still feel that way?

Why can't he loose the feel of her arms in his hands, the smell of her skin to close to his, the taste of her mouth... and why is he still craving it?

The two of them faced a scare like this at the beginning of Season 4. Presumably, he wasn't dating Ashley, yet, when Lucy spent the night (or half a night) after Jackson's death and Angela's kidnapping.

He'd held her in his arms, then. And even when they'd separated, his left hand was still rubbing up and down, offering comfort as she looked up at him with those big eyes.

Feeling her breath on his neck, he'd abandoned ship faster than Billy Zane's character in Titanic. But he'd thought of her. Heck, we don't know if he might have been on his feet walking to her when he got Wesley's call as she was on her feet coming to him.

But that time he was able to push it down. Kissing her awakened something that's refusing to silence in his brain... an anxious hum that only quiets in the peace of her presence, her arms, her embrace.

Damnit. He never should have taken that UC assignment.

"It was just a kiss. Not that big of a deal." "Then why are we talking about it?"

He's begging her to say the same thing. This is the equivalent of Lucy's "Right?" when she really needs affirmation.

I mean, he doesn't even have a ready answer when Angela asks... and he deflects. Hard.

"Because, what if it wasn't just a kiss for her?"

See? I'm thinking about her not about me.

"You think Lucy has feelings for you?" "No."

And he means that. Tim Bradford doesn't believe Lucy could have feelings for him, that she could love him, that she would ever want to be with him.

And he's never thought about it seriously before, himself. But now it's getting harder and harder to ignore.

"Then she probably sees it how you do—just a weird thing you had to do for work." "Right."

And that's the part he didn't want affirmed... that Lucy feels nothing romantic for him, and it's all in his head.

That's what he believes. Tim has spent his life thinking he was un-loveable. First, my an abusive father. Then, a wife who abandoned him. A girlfriend who chose her dream job.

And, even now with Ashley, it's all wrong. He hates the beach and he's dating a lifeguard who wants to vacation at beaches.

He's trying to make it work because it's the most stable relationship he's had in a while... but it was always rocky and the cracks are becoming more apparent the more he ruminates on this Lucy situation.

Angela notes every second of Tim's discomfort.

"Timothy... do you have feelings for Lucy?" "No!"

Have we ever heard Tim's voice go that high? I'm struggling to remember, but I laughed aloud the first time I watched that and had to rewind to see the rest of the line, which is really all another rationalization.

"No, I'm dating Ashley, and Lucy is with Chris, and I'm her Superior Officer, so..." "All true. Not what I asked."

Because she doesn't need to ask. Angela knows why they are having this conversation, and Tim's growing increasingly frustrated because he wants to believe he doesn't have feelings for Lucy.

But he does... and it's getting harder to deny.

"What'd I miss?" "Nolan got a Golden Ticket."

Now I know Tim Bradford is in love because there was zero commentary on Lucy being late to roll call!

"Your lady squared away?" "Hell, no. You think we don't got lives of our own waiting around on some mystery gig?"

It's the debut of Lucy's take on Sava. Assertive, just like Nova. Just like Lucy.

"Yo. Davion's money." "Davion's handsy. Get someone else."

This isn't Chenford directly, but I love seeing how Tim's not as on top of the UC thing as Lucy. It's not a ding on Tim. It's simply a reminder that Lucy is a natural at this, and that she can manipulate the situation as needed.

Is it always successful? No. But she knew how to keep Tim and Jackson alive during the op when she was pulled over, and she's trying to spare them getting made here.

"Oh! Looking good, Juicy."

Look, I know it's Aaron saying it, but Tim's reacting, too. Look at his face, taking her in.

And it kills me that we don't get a good reverse on his reaction her thong comment. Kills me. I'd love to see Tim "No, I don't have feelings for Lucy" Bradford not react to the idea of the thong she is currently wearing.

"Airstrip. I thought this job was local." "It's not. That a problem?" "Yeah, that's a problem. I travel with three suitcases minimum. It requires precision to look this good."

Again, it didn't work, but Lucy was quick on that response. Lucy, maybe you should really pursue this UC stuff. You're pretty good at it!

Dim and Juicy Roll Up in Tamara's Car

The music's blaring, and Tim and Lucy have left themselves behind. They've slipped into the skin of two flirty, horny, lust-distracted ne'er-do-wells, and I am here for it.

Look, I know we all laughed at the beginning of their kiss scene because Tim and Lucy were so uncomfortable. Now, those who were still alive by the end of the scene know they are perfectly capable of getting coupley with a little prodding.

"You're late." "Yeah, well, our quickie wasn't so quick."

Lucy winds an arm around Tim's waist, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, fitting against one another as though they'd done it a thousand times.

Tim is completely in her space, and though the clothes and personalities are borrowed, we get a sneak peek into a future Chenford. They just fit together so well!

"First, cell phones."

Lucy's POUT and how Tim immediately snaps to her. I'm convinced half of the reason he's so bloody convincing during this whole episode is because he's completely under her spell.

Yes, he did well running solo. But can you imagine if he'd run this op with Nyla or Angela? He might've pulled it off, but not to this degree of believability.

Tim and Lucy turn over their cell phones, and then they're right back to one another's embrace as Dim and Juicy forget anyone else is there.

And this is yet another glimpse at Tim and Lucy's future... Because some part of them is aching for this.

Right now, they can live vicariously through Dim and Juicy and pretend it's completely on the level. "It's not really US. It's THEM! We aren't doing anything wrong."

But it's all about how they feel, and that's quickly catching up with them.

Hands. Hands. HANDS!

Look, the scene where Lucy hands Tim a glass of champagne and drapes herself across me is choice. Lucy drapes herself over him, he wraps his arm around her waist, settling on her thigh, and she places her hand over his.

As he talks and his hands move, hers move with him, like a magnetic pull. They never practiced this. Because the second Tim and Lucy let go and give into the couple shtick, it brings out their natural rhythm.

"Rosalind Dyer escaped."

Sava disintegrates and Lucy is left stunning, sitting atop Tim's lap. Tim notes her shift immediately and grabs onto her hand, much as she grabbed onto his when he pulled her over during her first solo UC op. It's comfort.

While Lucy has led the way for their alter-egos, it's now Tim who comes up with the perfect excuse to get her alone (*ahem*) and invites Juicy to join the Mile High Club.

As the baddies roll their eyes at Dim and Juicy's antics, Tim gets a barely-held-together Lucy into the bathroom and away from their gazes.

Let's be real, any one of us would be reeling, too. The one time Lucy and Tim were in the presence of Rosalind Dyer together, that woman had Lucy spinning out in seconds. It took Tim—her fierce protector—to snap her out of it and silence the singing.

Now, that same fierce protector has to snap her out of it so they don't get massacred above the clouds. It's not a time for kid gloves... it's a time to get her head in the game, or cut their losses. He's not willing to risk Lucy's life for an op*.

*Keep this in mind later in the season

"I'm fine. I can do this." "No. No, you're not. I'm pulling the plug as soon as we land."

Because he knows her. She can't play him, anymore. Yes, there was a time she could get away with it, but he's staring in her eyes and he can feel the fear and anxiety flowing off of her.

"No. Look, the stakes are too high. This is our one chance at Madris. The news threw me for a second, but I'm... I'm fine. I can do this."

And while we all know (Tim included), Lucy is far from fine, he believes she can get her head in the game enough to see this through.

And we all know that's because he is helping her. She always knew that when it was too much for her to deal with, he'd be there to help. Maybe he didn't believe it at the time, but Lucy did. And she was right.

"Okay. Lucy, if you change your mind, you just say the word."

Tim is so commanding in this moment. It's not anything he's lording over her, no. But he's reminding us that he's the Sergeant in this situation, and he is not going to let her go down for an op.

"Wait." "What?" "We're supposed to be hooking up in here."

And that doe-eyed boy truly has no idea what's flying his way.

I'm reminded of Cary Grant's line to Audrey Hepburn in Charade. "When you come on, you come on."

That's Lucy. When she's ready for something, she commit to it completely. Whether it's a moment or a lifetime.

And right now, she's committing to this moment of her lips on his lips, her hands on his body, and her mind on something besides the anxiety and fear filling her from Rosalind's escape.

Lucy grabs ahold of Tim's face with both hands and lunges herself at his lips. He reels back, nearly falling onto the counter behind him. But as soon as his brain begins to process what the hell is happening, his hands easily reach for her.

Tim doesn't waste time, this time. He didn't know if he'd have another chance to kiss her, and he wants this more than he'll admit.

Now, in both kisses, Lucy has her arms between them. So, their bodies aren't pressing together, and that makes Tim's hand placement a little more awkward.

Could be an actor choice. Could be a directing choice. Could be a writing choice.

Whatever the reason, Tim's options are more limited. But as his hand runs up her arm, it becomes less timid, and more sure. He pushes back against her kiss and she moves with him, letting him take point. She needs this.

Lucy could have smeared her lipstick on him. She could have rumpled his clothes. But Lucy needs something to center her right now.

She needs another emotion to draw from besides her fear. And while she doesn't know how Tim feels about her, she knows that kissing him feels good, and right, and comforting.

They transition from Lucy sucking on his top lip to his bottom lip, and her hand finally drops away, giving Tim the space to put his hand in what I believe to be his favorite place—her face.

He wants that skin-on-skin connection. He wants the romance. Tim wants every second of this kiss.

Which is why he says, "More" when she pulls away. Turn up the volume and watch that boy's lips. Tim Bradford is GONE, my friends.

And Lucy's shaking. Melissa O'Neil, herself, confirmed that this was a planted callback to Lucy's hands shaking after Tim resuscitated her in the desert. Lucy's a bloody mess, but she wants to make this work.

Oh, what about Tim? Tim's in bloody shock. Each kiss is progressively worse for his ability to shove those emotions back down. Now he's the one who needs to get his head in the game.

Luck Be A Lady Tonight

I love the glances to one another in the car... the subtle check-ins. These two are such soul-mates.

"Hello, back off." "Must be the new skank." "Who are you calling a skank? You better get the hell outta here. If I see you again, I'm gonna rip this janky ass hairpiece outta your head. Hm?"

Tim and Lucy had no idea that Jake would have a connection at this casino, and getting made is the worst thing that could happen. Lucy leaps into action, and I really think Tim is impressed... and a little turned on.

"She's solid."

We've talked before about how Angela is a good detective, but she's going with Tim's gut on this. And Lucy knows the weight of it. She's not going to let Tim down.

"You're really good at this, you know? The whole Undercover thing." "Thank you."

Tim doesn't give out a lot of compliments, but he's seen Lucy in action, today, and she's been amazing on-the-fly.

Sure, he's watched her undercover ops from afar (and that one time he pulled her over), but this is different. He's been in the moment with her and seen her make moves he'd never think to make.

Also, I love that her way to prove to Tim that she could handle Undercover was to fake her feelings for him. And today's op has been all about embracing those feelings under the guise they are fake.

Is that the definition of irony? I'll have to ask my English-teacher husband.

And I find it fascinating that this praise doesn't activate her Praise Kink. Perhaps it's her aching head or the stress of Rosalind, but she seems more... confused by Tim's compliment.

Maybe she thinks he's complimenting her kissing skills... because, yeah, they're fire together.

"Uh, do you mind if I take the first shower?" "No, it's fine. Hey you hungry?" "Yes! I would get some french fries if you're ordering.

Tim looks up just in time to see Lucy's shirt swish off of her, revealing a bare back. Can you imagine the neurons firing off in that man's mind right now? Now he knows she wasn't wearing a bra the whole damn day.

Tim backs up like he's been struck by something heavy and he turns away, trying to get his brain to start firing and his secondary brain to stop revving its engine.

He mutters about fries as he sits on the bed, trying to focus on the menu in front of him.

But half-naked Lucy is right there, and his eyes drift back to the door, just in time to see her whisk past. He looks away, again... Then back, again.

And, let's be real. If he was struggling not to go after her when she was fully clothed on his couch, imagine how hard he's struggling not to imagine Lucy in that shower... and imagine himself with Lucy in that shower...

And... maybe y'all need a cold shower by now. You good? Good.

But Tim Bradford is far from good. He's so far from good that he turns on sports, and rather than getting lost in the game and upset about any interruptions, he's begging the game to take him away from the thoughts running through his head.

Because he never thought it would come to this. He never thought she would kiss him again. He never thought he'd be in a position where he would have this beautiful woman right there who might possibly feel what he's feeling.

And so Tim Bradford does something I never thought I'd see him do... he takes a leap.

"What?" "Do you want to talk about it?" "About what?" "The airplane bathroom... your apartment... Look, I don't know, call me crazy, but it just doesn't feel like pretend."

Remember I said this episode was heartbreaking? Here's why...

Lucy thinks Tim is calling her out on her feelings for him.

Tim thinks there's something between them and he wants to know if she has feelings for him.

And because Lucy feels caught... she deflects.

"It's an intimate act. We'd have to be dead inside for it to not trigger something, right? It's basic biology."

Tim Bradford took a leap... and then he took a fall. And it kills me every time to watch his face as he takes the rejection. Lucy doesn't want me.

Oh, poor Tim Bradford. He's been rejected over and over by people in his life. So often, he's the one who finds himself broken because nobody sticks around for him. Nobody puts in the effort for him.

It doesn't take a traumatic childhood to make a person feel unworthy of love, but Tim has that and more.

And Lucy doesn't even know how he feels. She has no idea. This was a speech uttered to cover her own growing feelings. But the unintended consequence is that she hurts Tim.

"So you're saying it's not a big deal. Doesn't mean anything." "Right?"

It's a confirmation of what Angela told him at the beginning... Lucy doesn't want me.

And it's not that his whole life was hitched on this notion, but it's yet another rejection in a long, long string of rejections. And Lucy doesn't even know that's what she's done.

The phone rings, deflecting the conversation, and a dejected Tim picks up.

"I'm just alone with Lucy in the hotel room" "Uh-oh."

Literally the last thing he needs to hear right now. But, Angela doesn't know he was just struck down. She's all for some Chenford Sexy Time.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Tim slams the phone down faster than the remote when the Rams toss an interception. Lucy rushes back to the bathroom, and the moment she goes, Tim shakes his head. It hurts.

Tim took a leap. And Tim fell. And now Tim has to add it to his layers of scars.

"Remind me not to take a guy out while I'm wearing a robe. I showed him the entire world right now."

First off, I love that Tim was the damsel in distress in this scene that needed Lucy's rescuing. Second, I believe this is when she starts to think there's something physical between them.

Let's be clear. Lucy has feelings for Tim, but she doesn't think Tim has feelings for her. She thinks he's attracted to her, though. I mean, look how she watches him as he shakes his head. And while feelings are tough for Lucy (more than she'll admit), sex is easy.

"I can nott wait to get out of these clothes." "Yeah. I'm not gonna miss that hair." "I kind of like yours." "Thank you... thank you for walking me up." "No problem."

Let's be honest... Tim is walking Lucy up because he knows as soon as he walks away, they won't have the excuse to be this close together, again. And even though she rejected him (in his mind), he wants to be close to her.

"So, I guess this is it. Tomorrow we are back to being us." "Right. And everything that happened undercover, we will just leave behind." "Right. What happens undercover stays undercover."

I'd shake my head at Tim's comment, but the boy's doing a good job shaking his head at himself. "Why did I say that?" Lucy, however, is ready to test a theory... about Tim's attraction to her.

"You know, in a sense, since we haven't been debriefed, we're still undercover." "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Tim doesn't know where she's going, but Lucy offers a pointed glance at her apartment door. Tim doesn't bite.

Why? Because he's ruled it out as a possibility. He doesn't believe there is any scenario where this is really happening. She already rejected him, right?

Lucy registers his lack of comprehension, though she doesn't realize the reason.

"Do you want to come in?"

Tim is flabbergasted. He doesn't believe what he's hearing, and that man literally short circuits at the realization that this moment is happening. Heck, I was short-circuiting. I thought the fans were making something up when they started tweeting about him accepting an invite to go inside.

Like, is this happening!?

Tim cycles through shock, acceptance, fear, and ultimately lands on right and wrong. He is dating Ashley. And he's not a cheat.

"I shouldn't."

It's not that he doesn't want to. But for so many reasons, he shouldn't go in. Lucy nods, accepting his answer. For her, this isn't a personal rejection (because she doesn't even think that's on the table). It's a sexual rejection, and that's fine.

But as she opens her door and walks in, the light from the door strikes Tim's face. When he looks back, he sees light... and Lucy.

And much as he wants the full relationship... this is what she is offering here and now. And who knows if he'll ever have the chance to be with her, again?

There are no thoughts of Chris and Ashley, right now. The two of them are looking at one another—Lucy on one side of the threshold and Tim on the other—and they are considering this moment and nothing further.

So twice in one episode... Tim Bradford takes a leap.

He crosses the threshold into her apartment, and she closes the door, sealing them in. Tim's eyes wander to Lucy, hesitancy rushing through him. "Should I start? Will she start?"

Lucy has twice jumped the man, but even in her state of wanting him more than thinking about right-and-wrong, she offers him a drink.

"I'm good."

Because up until this point, he thought this was impossible. And now that it is possible, he wants to be completely clear-headed so he doesn't misinterpret anything.

Lucy moves to set her purse down and we finally see... Chris. Lucy opens her mouth as Tim looks to the sky and curses it for this f'ed up situation... only for Lucy to realize Chris is bleeding out.

Tim calls it in without hesitation, and the last thing we see is a terrified Lucy calling out to her greatest comfort (even if she's too scared to admit it)—Tim.

Looking into the Future (since this is a REWIND Meta)

Now... am I glad they didn't start their relationship like this? Hell, yeah. I love that they had the time to step back from this and get to a point where they realized they both wanted it all.

It's not about sex. Yes, that's a part of it. But, this is about two souls crying out for one another and not yet speaking the same language.

They've spent years learning, but that type of love is a lifelong pursuit... and you have to get on the same page, first.

Lucy and Tim aren't there, yet, in this episode. Yes, this episode pushes them closer to one another and those moments to come. It's essential to the development of their relationship. It's another step on their path...

As always, thanks for reading (and persuading me to do this... I do love writing Metas and Chenford make it easy!). Hope to see you on the next!

#Chenford #Tim Bradford #Lucy Chen #Melissa O'Neil #Eric Winter #Lucy x Tim #Tim x Lucy #The Rookie #The Rookie Meta #Chenford Meta #Am I Mad For Doing Another One Of These

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