#but every time i see someone do this its always for the wrong reasons

[moonlightdreamzz]

Moments of Praise — Jungwon, Jake, Sunghoon.

bangchan and felix

GENRE. pureeeeee smut. freaky hours. 18+

AUTHORS NOTE. i am ovulating, so either im sorry or you’re welcome :)

Good girls get whatever they want—and you’re the greatest.

jungwon

you love so many things. you love tequila, you love cool sheets, you love the spring—the list goes on and on. but recently, someone asked you what do you love most? in the moment, you couldn’t make a decision because how could you choose? but right now, as jungwon’s hands are gripped around your neck—not tight enough to hurt you, but strong enough to remind you he owns you, and he’s stroking in and out of you—refusing the break eye contact not even for a second, you realize this is what you love most in this world.

he’s always so damn cocky when he’s fucking you, because he knows how amazing he makes you feel, everytime. he knows what you want—but he cares more about what you need. and you earned the di*k you’re getting right now.

he’s so drunk off your p*ssy, but that’ll never wipe the sly smirk off his face. all this, because you were so patient all day, and the cherry on top was you helping an elderly woman carry her groceries to her car. because that’s the kind of boyfriend you have—one that got so turned on at you being good.

you can’t form a proper sentence. that’s how good it feels. and he’s loving every second of it. you’re trying so hard, and all he can do is mock you—mimicking every expression you make to verbally tell him thank you. and he’s going exactly how you love it,—love him. slow and steady.

“i know baby, i know.” he utters. “daddy is fucking you so good, isn’t he? mhm.” a whimper slips out of his pretty lips, which only adds onto your incoming orgasm.

“baby—“ you finally manage to get our “why do you—always—fuck me so goooood. oh my—“ you wanted so badly to finish, but he clearly likes you like this. slutted out and unable to focus. only able to feel him and everything he’s doing to you. his free hand places itself on your clit, rubbing gentle circles around it. as if the pleasure you were already feeling wasn’t good enough for jungwon.

“good girls, deserve good dick. and you, baby?” he chuckles before biting his lip and looking at you as if your hole is the best thing since sliced bread, “you’re such a good fucking good girl. so fucking patient. so kind. this pussy is everything I’ve ever wanted in life. you’re so fucking wet. so fucking good—ah.”

“its too good, daddy. i can’t take it. i can’t.” you’re practically hyperventilating. you didn’t know anything could feel this good. you’re seeing stars and he’s living for it.

“who can’t take it? hm? you baby? because my girl can do anything she puts her mind to. so take this fucking dick.”

are his last words before you both cum all over the each-other.

jake

his members lay asleep, their faces—as well as his and yours glowing from the tv that’s still playing the movie jungwon chose earlier. to the naked eye, you and jake look like two people utterly in love, making deep eye contact because you’re so infatuated with each other. this isn’t wrong, but it also isn’t the reason why the two of you are staring at eachother in the dark.

the real reason, is because jake’s hands are buried deep in your panties, and he’s determined to make you cum in your jeans, infront of everyone. you knew at some point tonight he’d sneak you away to be inside you, but like this? but at the same time, you’d be lying if you said this isn’t the sexiest thing you’ve ever done. and you weren’t rude. you were raised to always be grateful for gifts.

he’s so fucking focused. and he’s doing so good. your eyes can’t figure out if they want to be open or closed and you wish you could grind in his hand, but that would wake somebody up. there’s a part of you that wants to stop him because of the way your body reacts when you or**sm, but as always, your boyfriend is two steps ahead of you.

“i need you to.” he utters, nothing short of desperation resting on his eyes. “I won’t stop until you do.”

all you can do is nod, because you’re so close. that doesn’t stop his mouth from running.

“yeah.” he assures you—his aussie accent thick. “you’re so wet, baby. and that makes me so happy.” he places your hand on his length, that is rock solid. “you like the fact that they can see you if they wanted, don’t you? i know i do.” “can’t wait to make you lick it off my fingers.” “wake em up baby. wake em up baby.” he grunts, resting his forehead on yours but eyes refusing to disconnect. you practically burst all over his fingers, your body is shaking, and you can’t help but hit his arm over and over because fuck you, jake. now.

sunghoon

sunghoon is so full of himself. he does what he wants, when he wants, and if the world isn’t revolving around him? then the world must’ve vanished. and he’s no different right now—arms tucked cockily behind his head while you bounce up and down on his length. the only thing he’s wearing is a smug look on his face, as if to say—of course the second I called, you answered. and of course, the minute I told you to strip and cum all over me, you went straight to work. because I own you and everyone else.

“i fucking hate you.” you moan loudly. but you don’t. and he knows you don’t too. that’s why all he does he chuckle in a seductive tone before whispering, “i love you too, baby.”

when he confesses his love for you, whether it’s real love behind the words or not, it always puts you in a mode. like you have to show him that if he doesn’t, he’s about to. “you love me?” you whisper, your pleading eyes turning into something much more devious. your bouncing turns for his pleasure and his eyes widen in disbelief of how amazing you feel and look right now.

“mhm.” he nods aggressively. you increase your speed and the intensity of each movement.

“you fucking love me?” you question again—laughing at him now.

it was like he was losing consciousness the way his eyes couldn’t hold still but his body was frozen from the pleasure. “yesss—oh, baby. ugh.”

“tell me why you love me.” you demand.

“becau—because you’re so pretty. and you always make daddy feel so good! your pu**y—baby please. mmm always so wet and—tight. make me cum please please please. i love you so much. please I’ll do anything for it please don’t stop!” he squeals out, before shooting his seed inside you.

[thefirstknife]

Go off! It's the Cinemasins Effect. There is no literary analysis, just listing of facts like you're reading a Wikipedia summary. Devoid of accounting for personality traits, external influences, basic human (or alien) contradictory nature, unreliable narration (always present in Destiny), multiple points of view that are clashing (because that's how the world works), etc., these facts tell us little about the actual story so it's easy to misinterpret obvious solutions.

A listed fact might say "Eramis endangered her own house by opening the Vex portal on Europa" and then whenever Eramis talks about caring for her people, someone who engages with only the list might think "That makes no sense!" And it does, if we go deeper and account for her desperation and corruption and how much she did not understand what was happening to her. She desperately tried proving that she has agency, but it was the exact opposite; while fleeing from the Traveler claiming not wanting to be its pawn, she was actually the pawn of the Witness. She was used by the Witness to get us, the real target, to be tempted with stasis and the moment she lost (no longer worthy of being a part of the final shape), she was discarded. However, not entirely, because she still had to remain a pawn potentially to be used later when the Witness needs a convenient and desperate soldier to enact its plans under a threat of a total annihilation of her people; because that's what the Witness does. She literally commented on this, how the Witness is "punishing her" by turning her friends into Scorn.

But we never see even a fraction of this kind of analysis in the most popular circles and "lore masters" will always prioritise just listing events and doing "Ending EXPLAINED!" videos with zero character motivations or analysis mentioned. I won't even go into how much of Destiny story is obviously constricted by technical elements and the type of game it is, which is something people forget all the time and expect Destiny to suddenly have a singleplayer RPG level of game design which simply will not happen. A lot of the perceived faults in the narrative are almost always of technical nature and writers themselves have spoken about this. I feel like that has to be included in any analysis worth a damn because Destiny's story is trapped within the confines of the genre of media it is in (first person looter shooter); while the story is a major part of the game's essence, gameplay comes first, always. If the story has to be constrained for gameplay purposes, it will be. If it has to be constrained because there's not enough time or resources to add more dialogues or cutscenes or to expand the scope of every character or to create a more complex narrative, it will be. Given all of this, I think the team has done a great job for Eramis over the years and kept her arc as consistent as possible which made this ending easy to predict and satisfying because the arc has concluded as it was intended.

At the end of the day, I don't even mind if people have a personal reason to think "Actually I would never have forgiven Eramis." I'm sure there are characters in-setting who think that; either because of a lack of knowledge about her (if you're just some random citizen, you don't know the details of her corruption or her internal feelings) or because you were personally victimised by her (a lot of Eliksni fled House Salvation because of what she did on Europa that endangered their lives; they may never be ready to forgive her or accept her). That's completely fine. As a matter of fact, I expect it! It adds depth to the story.

The issue is that these people usually go about it by blaming the writers and saying that the writers told their own story wrong. That this decision was objectively incorrect or somehow bad for the narrative or a retcon or out of character or whatever. And it's just not. We, the players, who have all information and everyone's internal feelings presented in the story and lore books, know that this was the intended character arc for Eramis since the moment she didn't get killed at the end of Beyond Light.

Eramis Executors are up in arms that our favorite, bitter, lesbian crab didn’t receive a bullet to her head to no one’s surprise. What happened to the overarching themes involving forgiveness and mending the wounds of the past to build a better future for everyone resonating with people? Does the Traveler and what it has been representing for 10 years mean nothing when it comes to Eramis? Were we supposed to abandon the power of friendship? Is punishment with no consideration the only way of dealing with those who have committed wrong acts that people know of?

[bigsharter666]

how to be alone, a lonely person's guide:

1. make a mug of tea, try to appreciate the silence. you can hear every bubble in the kettle if you really try. hold your cup gently, press it against your body. feel the warmth spreading. graze your knuckles against it, feel them sting. forget about it until its cold. sometimes tea isnt even about drinking it, it's just about having something to keep you company.

2. go out to lunch, because you decided you were going to. you dont need a reason to get your favourite food, youre allowed to do it! when the waitress asks you if you are waiting for someone, try not to cry.

3. realise how quiet lunch is when it's just you. you didnt bring anything to do, that was stupid. what was the plan? just eat too quickly, leave even faster. maybe next time bring a book or something, you know one of the ones youre always pretending you will read? yeah that one.

4. go see a movie! movies are a great way to pass the time. try not to look at the couples and friend groups. noone cares that youre alone, they probably dont even notice. try not to think about it. theyre not laughing at you just stop thinking about it.

5. take up a hobby, tumblr blogging or journaling or knitting or hoarding. it helps fill the time. arent the days just so long? its crazy how much time you have. youre looking at the clock too often, stop doing that! seriously, it just makes time go slower. why cant you just enjoy yourself? do you even like knitting? what do you like then? whatever i guess you can just go to sleep early.

6. take a sleeping pill, take a few. have a drink. why not? its not like anyone is keeping track. pick up smoking again, because you forgot why you quit in the first place. it feels good, whats wrong with just wanting to feel good sometimes? youre young it doesnt even matter. tomorrow will be better. tomorrow you will be better. figure it out, it wont always be this hard. tomorrow will be better.

[tetrapodomorpha]

every time a metalhead cuts their hair an angel loses its wings

[vanweezer]

crazy city population 1 (me) (kingsley)

[softshuji]

y'know it's a night when hal sits and eats cereal in the dark room at 1.30am.

[medicasino]

i'm seriously tired of this like,,, constant feeling of never really feeling important to anyone. and it's like, it's 100% on me, it is 100% my fault i feel this way but,,, eugh

[phagodyke]

one unfortunate thing abt watching bloody violent up-close-and-personal movies is that it makes me even more crazy touchstarved than usual after.. I need to wrestle someone NOW

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Keep Your Eyes on Me - pt.ii

tara carpenter x female reader

part i | part ii

summary: Tara begins to question her own emotions, especially when the thought of losing Y/n's attention unexpectedly stirs something deeper.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: slight violence

————

"Is Y/n dying?" Mindy asks with genuine curiosity looking back at you and Tara. "What the fuck is wrong with her face?"

The five of you had just gotten off the subway and exited the station, but your mind was still stuck a few moments behind. Tara had wrapped her arm around yours and spoken the five words that made your heart skip a beat: Keep your eyes on me.

Since then, you hadn’t been able to function. Stiff as a board, your brain was in a daze, replaying those words over and over. Now, you were walking aimlessly, arm-in-arm with Tara, trailing behind Mindy, Chad, and Sam, who were a good distance ahead.

"I think it might have something to do with Tara," Chad chimes in, glancing back at you both.

That comment got Sam's attention and she finally turned to see what was happening. "Yikes she does look—hold on why would Tara be responsible for whatever is going on with Y/n's face?" She asks with a raised brow, looking at the twins genuinely confused.

"Look at her arm," Chad says, pointing at Tara. "It’s wrapped around Y/n’s."

"She's looking up at her like Y/n put the stars in the sky," Mindy laughs.

Sam squints her eyes still confused. "So? Tara's finally warming up to Y/n. I spoke to her a few weeks ago about how Y/n is good for her."

"Her arm is around Y/n's," Chad states again with more emphasis.

"I hold my friends by their arm all the time," Sam shrugs like it's no big deal.

"Oh honey... did you say friends?" Mindy says gently wrapping her arm around Sam's shoulders like she was trying to soften the blow. "You know Y/n has the hots for your sister right?"

Sam wasn't stupid. There was instances in the last six months where the thought had crossed her mind. The way you always glanced at Tara after one of Mindy’s outrageous jokes, just to see her reaction. The way you went silent every time Tara got too close. The way your cheeks flushed crimson whenever Tara did something particularly sweet or kind.

Sam sighs. Deep down, she knew. The way you were attentive to Tara wasn’t just friendly—it was something more.

When she’d encouraged Tara to give you a chance, it wasn’t about dating—it was about letting someone in, letting someone care for her. But now, watching you and Tara in this new light, the possibility of her little sister entering her first relationship suddenly felt real.

That’s what unnerved her. Not you, specifically. She liked you. And if anyone was going to date Tara, she was glad it would be you.

"Don’t worry, Sam," Chad says, trying to reassure her. "Y/n’s a total dork. She can’t even admit to herself that she likes Tara. She just genuinely cares about her, even if she only gets to do that as a friend."

"Dude," Mindy cuts in, laughing so hard she’s clutching her stomach, "you literally helped Y/n get into your sister’s pants!"

“You gave Y/n first class tickets to take your sister to Pound town!” she adds in between laughs.

Chad groans, dragging a hand down his face. "Why are you like this?"

Sam felt her blood run cold. She changed her mind—maybe she did have a problem with you.

————

Meanwhile, about twenty steps behind the group, the younger Carpenter sister was freaking out for a completely different reason.

Sure, she hadn’t expected to enjoy the feeling of her hand resting on your bicep this much. That was its own problem. But what was really throwing her off was the deafening silence. Why weren’t you saying anything?

She’d called your name a few times now, but you hadn’t so much as blinked in response. She considered taking her arm away. Maybe she’d overstepped. It had been a bold move—not just saying what she did but closing the space between you two like this.

It was a stark contrast from what's the usual between you two—her throwing violent insults your way, half the time just to see how you’d react.

Okay maybe it makes sense why you weren't responding. Still, was it too much to ask for a little reaction?

Fearing she’d made you uncomfortable, Tara began to pull her arm away.

"No! Wait—" you blurt out, snapping out of your daze at the loss of contact. The words hang in the air, and the realization of what you just said slaps you in the face. Your face flushes red. "I mean—wait, not no! You can keep your hands to yourself if you want!" you stammer, awkwardly backpedaling as you take a step closer to the road to create a distance between you two.

She just told you that you can keep your eyes on her and you told her she can keep her hands to herself.

In that moment, you’d honestly prefer to be hit by a car than embarrass yourself any further in front of Tara.

You brace yourself, expecting her to roll her eyes, to call you an imbecile, to tell you to get over yourself. Maybe she’d point out that she doesn’t need you to give her permission to keep her hands to herself—that she has full autonomy. Or worse, she’d say something cutting, like how she’d never touch you in a million years, even though she was the one who had grabbed your arm in the first place.

But instead, she laughs.

And it’s not a mean laugh. It’s soft, warm, and unexpectedly genuine, catching you completely off guard.

Not that you were complaining, but

What the fuck is she doing?

————

"What the fuck am I doing?" Tara mumbles to herself.

“That’s what I want to know,” Mindy fires back with a teasing smirk, leaning closer to Tara who was seated across her on the table.

Fortunately for you, soon after you heard the melodic sound of Tara’s laugh that made your brain short-circuit, the bar you were all heading to came into view giving you the perfect excuse not to dwell on it—or, more accurately, to avoid melting into a puddle of feelings. For the first time ever, Tara had laughed because of something you did, and the thought alone made your heart do a happy little somersault.

Upon entering the dive bar, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom while the rest of the group found a table to be seated at. Thankfully, the bathroom was empty, so you were able to think out loud.

“What even is my life right now?” you muttered to yourself as you leaned over the sink with a goofy smile. Catching your reflection in the mirror, your face was beet fucking red. Oh no. Did Tara notice how red you were? You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

How did things change so fast? How had it gone from her hating your guts, calling you Ghostface at every opportunity, and throwing insults your way—barely even sparing you a glance—to this?

Mindy had told you to stop chasing Tara, to ignore her, to let her come to you. You’d managed to stick to that advice for maybe an hour, and somehow, this was where it got you.

Not that you were complaining—oh, you definitely weren’t—but wow, this was a lot to handle. Your heart felt like it might burst from how warm and fluttery it was. Tara was kind of adorable… and terrifying. Mostly adorable. Okay, maybe all adorable.

"Fuck, this girl is going to be the death of me."

————

Outside, Mindy, Chad, and Tara stayed at the table while Sam headed to the bar to scope out the scene.

"Sooo… did I just see you holding Y/n’s arm?" Mindy asked, probing Tara for more answers.

Tara groaned dramatically before dropping her head onto the table with a quiet thud. "Yes," she mumbled, her voice muffled against the surface.

"What the hell happened in the two weeks we didn't hang?" Chad questions. "You couldn't stand her last time we hung out. And you're pulling the Carpenter rizz?"

"I don’t know!" Tara whined, her words still muffled by the table." Sam talked to me okay? And I guess I was being harsh to Y/n."

"Uh-huh, sure," Mindy replied, her grin widening. "But that still doesn’t explain why you were holding her arm. That’s a huge leap from ‘I hate Y/n, she’s totally Ghostface,’ to... this." Mindy explained, clearly enjoying the situation.

"Unless," Chad cut in, his grin matching Mindy’s as he wiggled his eyebrows, "there was always some hidden feelings under your 'supposed' hatred for her..."

Tara’s face shot up from the table, bright red as she glared at them. "There are no hidden feelings!"

Mindy gasped, clutching her chest like she’d uncovered a scandal. "Oh my God, there totally is! Admit it, Tara—you’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time!"

"Absolutely not!" Tara protested, her voice climbing an octave.

"You have," Chad teased, leaning closer with a conspiratorial whisper. "And you loved it."

Tara groaned again, hiding her face in her hands, as Mindy and Chad erupted into laughter.

"Shut up!" Tara muttered, but the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips betrayed her completely. She sighed, trying to compose herself. "I don't like her like that, okay? She was just ignoring me today, and... I guess it sucked not having her care about me like she usually does," she mumbled, hoping the explanation would get the twins off her back.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Mindy replied casually to Tara’s surprise. Well, that was easy.

But then Mindy smirked, leaning back in her chair. "So, it shouldn’t bother you that Y/n’s getting hit on at the bar right now, huh?"

Tara froze. "What?" she snapped, whipping her head around so fast it was a miracle she didn’t pull something. Her eyes darted frantically toward the bar. "Where is she?"

The brunette turned back around so Mindy could answer her, and that’s when she realized—she’d walked right into her trap.

Mindy burst into laughter, slapping the table. "Oh my God, you’re so obvious!"

Tara frowned and crossed her arms as Chad joined in on the laughter, both of them clearly enjoying how flustered she’d become.

————

You finally leave the bathroom once you feel like you can function like a normal human being again. It doesn’t take long to spot your friends at their table—sometimes, you swear you have a built-in Tara radar, always able to sense exactly where she is.

As you make your way over, your eyes are drawn to her, bathed in the soft red glow of the bar lights. She looks stunning, her features highlighted by the warm hue. She’s speaking animatedly to the twins, her hands flying up to cover her face in between bursts of conversation, a mix of shyness and excitement that makes her even more captivating.

Sometimes you wish you weren't the awkward human you were, and met Tara in better circumstances. A world where Ghostface didn't exist as well. Maybe then—maybe then you two could be something?

Your heart leapt at the thought. And you felt almost guilty for thinking the way you do. You never wanted it to seem like you only treated Tara with kindness because you had some sort of ulterior motive. It made you feel guilty. But it was getting difficult denying it any further. Maybe it was seeing her in this setting, so relaxed, so beautiful—maybe it was her touch and words earlier that sealed your fate.

But all you wanted right now was to slide into that booth beside her, feel her hand on your arm again, and be the person she could lean on.

You really liked Tara.

And you also really needed a drink.

————

"Okay, hold on—help me out here," Mindy says, holding her hands up. "If you do have some kind of interest in her, then why, and I say this with love, were you such a massive dick to her?"

Tara groans, letting her head drop back dramatically against the booth. "I wasn’t trying to be! It just... happened," she mumbles, rubbing her hands over her face, as if she could wipe away the embarrassment. "I don’t know, okay? She just gets under my skin. She’s so infuriatingly... nice. And smug. And—"

"Hot?" Chad offers with a teasing grin, earning a glare from Tara.

"I wasn’t going to say that!" Tara snaps defensively, though the red creeping up her neck betrays her.

Mindy snorts. "Oh, sure. That’s why you grabbed her arm like she was the last person on Earth. Real subtle Carpenter."

Tara exhales hard, crossing her arms and slouching down in her seat. "I didn’t plan that, okay? She was ignoring me. I didn’t like it. And I panicked."

Chad raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with that smug big-brother energy. "Sooo, you panicked and held her arm? You panic-flirted?"

"I did not panic-flirt!" Tara protests, sitting up straighter, her voice pitching higher with frustration.

"You so panic-flirted," Mindy grins, leaning closer. "Face it, T. You’ve got it bad. I mean, you did just admit you didn’t like her ignoring you. That’s classic 'please-pay-attention-to-me' behavior."

Tara opens her mouth to argue, but freezes. She can’t deny that part—because it’s true. Too true. She didn’t like the way you’d suddenly stopped caring, stopped looking her way like you always did. It left her feeling... off-balance.

"Fine," she mutters, looking away as her fingers trace patterns on the table. "Maybe I didn’t hate it when she cared."

Chad and Mindy exchange a glance before turning back to her with matching smirks.

"Uh-huh," Mindy drawls. "And maybe you didn’t hate holding her arm."

Tara groans again, sinking lower into the booth like she could disappear into the cushions. "I really need you both to shut up right now."

"Why am I getting interrogated? And more importantly, where are the drinks? Sam? Y/n?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

————

You weave your way through the crowd, finally making it to the bar, where you flag down the bartender and order a drink—something strong to calm the storm brewing inside of you. Taking a seat, you take a deep breath, letting the hum of the bar settle around you.

"Another round," a familiar voice says beside you, and you turn your head to find Sam, casually gesturing for the bartender to line up several drinks. You blink, surprised.

"Sam?" you ask, brow furrowing. "What are you doing?"

Sam doesn’t look at you as she responds, eyes focused ahead, her tone completely serious. “Mourning.”

You stare at her, processing. “Mourning?” you repeat, confused. “Who… who died?”

Sam finally turns to you, expression deadpan. “My baby sister.”

You freeze, mouth opening slightly as your brain short-circuits. “Tara? Tara died?” you ask, voice rising in disbelief as you whip your head toward the booth where Tara is very clearly alive and animated, still talking to the twins.

Sam sighs dramatically, shaking her head. “Not literally. Spiritually. She’s about to get into her first relationship.”

Your face contorts into the human equivalent of the surprised Pikachu meme. “Her what now?”

Sam gives you a look, like you should already know. “Oh, don’t play dumb. You’re the relationship.”

You nearly choke on your drink, sputtering. “Me?!”

“Yes, you,” Sam replies matter-of-factly, grabbing one of the drinks the bartender sets down but not leaving just yet. She leans against the bar, eyeing you like she’s assessing your soul. “And don’t make that face. You’re the one she’s been all smiley and weird about lately.”

You blink at her, utterly lost. “Smile-y? Weird? What—Tara doesn’t even like me like that.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really,” you insist, though your voice wavers slightly.

Sam just smirks, sipping one of the drinks slowly. “You’re even worse at lying than you are at hiding how red your face is right now.”

Your hand flies to your cheek like you can stop the blush burning there. “It’s the bar lights!” you blurt defensively. “They’re red. They make everything red.”

"But I'm not lying I swear! She hates me remember? I'm supposedly Ghostface?" You ramble, trying to jog Sam's memory, because what in the world is she talking about. Tara likes you?

Sam chuckles under her breath, shaking her head. “You’re a mess.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, sinking further into yourself before glancing up at her. “But seriously… what do you mean me? I thought you were mourning because of some jerk she’s into—”

“Oh, I still think you’re a jerk,” Sam interrupts, though there’s a teasing glint in her eye now. “But you’re a tolerable one.”

You blink again, confused. “I’m… tolerable?”

“For now,” Sam confirms, narrowing her eyes at you in a way that makes you feel like you’re back in high school, being questioned by a teacher. “But listen to me, Y/n—I don’t care how flustered you get or how much you like her, I’m watching you. If you so much as make her frown, I’ll know. You’ll regret it.”

The seriousness of her tone makes you sit up a little straighter, but there’s still something soft in the way she says it—like, beneath the overprotective big-sister act, Sam really does care.

“I wouldn’t do that,” you say quietly, surprising even yourself with how genuine you sound. “I’d never hurt her. Ever.”

Sam studies you for a long moment, like she’s trying to read the truth straight from your eyes. Finally, she gives a small nod, satisfied. “Good. Because she deserves someone who looks at her like she’s the best thing to ever happen to them.”

Your heart stutters at her words, and you look down at your drink, trying not to smile too obviously. “I already do,” you admit softly, almost to yourself.

Sam pauses, her expression softening ever so slightly. “Yeah. That’s what worries me,” she mutters, more to herself than to you, but before you can ask what she means, she straightens up. “Now come on. I’m not carrying all these drinks by myself.”

You blink up at her, still a little dazed by the conversation, but you quickly grab a couple of glasses and stand up to follow Sam back toward the table.

But as you rose, the sudden sound of shattering glass and the murmur of rising voices pull your attention toward the commotion. A crowd begins to form in the center of the bar, the tension thickening with every heated word exchanged. It’s only when the circle shifts slightly that you spot her—Tara, her small frame squared off against a guy who looks a little too angry for the situation, and a girl glaring daggers at her.

You and Sam exchange a glance before rushing over, the protective instinct in both of you kicking in instantly.

“Look, I said I’d buy you another drink,” Tara says, her tone calm but laced with frustration.

“Yeah, well, maybe watch where you’re going next time dumbass,” the guy snaps, his voice dripping with condescension.

“Okay then maybe don’t stand in the middle of the fucking bar like a human traffic cone,” Tara bites back, her words sharper than you’ve ever heard from her.

The guy’s girlfriend steps in, practically seething. “Who do you think you are? Bumping into him like a slut and then acting like it’s his fault? God, you’re so full of yourself!”

Tara rolls her eyes. “Trust me, I do not want your man. This isn’t that deep.”

The guy snickers, leaning closer to Tara. “Yeah, right. With that attitude? You’d be lucky if anyone wanted you.”

You feel your chest tighten with anger, but you force yourself to take a deep breath. You step forward, hands up in a gesture of peace, trying your best not to escalate things.

“Hey, let’s all just calm down,” you say, your voice cracking slightly under the pressure. “I’ll get you a drink, okay? On me. No big deal.”

The guy turns to you, sizing you up before sneering. “Who the hell are you? Her little lapdog?”

That stings more than you’d care to admit, but before you can respond, he takes a step closer to Tara, clearly trying to intimidate her. Tara doesn’t back down, her glare unwavering, but his shoulder roughly “brushes” against hers in what’s definitely not an accident.

The nudge sends Tara stumbling backward, but thankfully, she lands against Sam, who steadies her instantly.

And that’s when all hell breaks loose.

Something snaps inside you, and before you can think it through, your fist is already flying. It connects with the guy’s jaw, sending him reeling back a step. The bar erupts in gasps and shouts as the guy recovers, glaring at you with fire in his eyes.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he growls, lunging at you.

Chaos ensues. Tables scrape against the floor as people back away, forming a wide circle. You’re barely aware of Sam pulling Tara further back, her voice sharp as she tells her to stay put.

The guy swings at you, but you dodge, adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I was trying to be nice!” you shout, your voice somehow still awkward despite the situation. “But nooo, you had to go and—”

His next punch grazes your shoulder, and you retaliate, landing another hit square in his side.

“Y/n!” Tara’s voice cuts through the noise, and for a split second, you falter, glancing in her direction.

That’s all the guy needs to get a cheap shot in, his fist connecting with your stomach. You stumble back, the wind knocked out of you, but you manage to stay on your feet steadying yourself by having your palm planted on a nearby table.

Unfortunately luck wasn't on your side, and the table had a broken bottle on it, the jagged glass slices into your palm. You wince, but thankfully, the chaos around you masks the pain, and no one notices it.

Suddenly, Chad steps in between you and the guy, his broad frame blocking any further blows. “Alright, enough,” he says, his voice firm, but not without a hint of warning. “You don’t want to take this any further bro. Trust me.”

Before the guy can respond, Sam steps in too, her hand flashing a taser from her waistband, her expression icy cold. “I suggest you walk away,” she says, her voice steady and threatening. “Unless you want to leave here with more than just a bruised ego.”

The guy hesitates, clearly debating whether to push his luck. But the bartender steps in then, a burly man who looks like he’s seen his fair share of bar fights. “Alright, that’s enough!” he barks. “You—out. Now.”

The guy glares at you one last time before grabbing his girlfriend’s arm and storming out, muttering curses under his breath.

As the crowd disperses and the bar settles back into its usual hum of activity, you turn to Tara, who’s staring at you with wide eyes.

“You okay?” you ask, your voice hoarse.

She nods, her gaze softening as she takes a step closer to you. “Are you?”

You wince, clutching your stomach. “I’ll live. But, uh, maybe next time, don’t antagonize the guy holding the drink?”

Tara scoffs but smiles faintly. “Maybe next time, don’t throw punches for me.”

Sam snorts, crossing her arms. “No, by all means, keep throwing punches. Just learn to dodge better.”

You laugh weakly, glancing between the two Carpenter sisters. “Noted. So… anyone else need a drink, or is it just me?”

Tara shakes her head, her smile growing, her face red. “It’s just you. But… thanks. For standing up for me.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, and despite the ache in your hand, you can’t help but smile back. “Anytime.”

You catch Tara glancing at you, her expression softer then ever, and for a moment, she seems to be looking at you like she’s seeing something more than the awkward dork you think you are.

And in that instant, she can’t help but think you're even more amazing than she already knew. But before she can fully process it, Chad suddenly approaches, glancing at your hand, his face faltering in concern.

“Hey, are you good?” he asks, his eyes scanning your hand. “You look like you're in pain.”

You wince, still trying to play it off as no big deal. But Chad catches sight of the blood trickling from the glass cut on your palm, and his eyes widen. "Holy shit, dude, we need to take you to a hospital."

You shake your head quickly, your voice still a little shaky. “It’s just a scratch, really. I’ll be fine.”

But Tara, her brows furrowing in concern, steps forward, and glances at your hand and gasps. “That’s not just a scratch,” she insists, her voice filled with worry. “You’re bleeding bad. Get up—Mindy call an Uber.”

You open your mouth to protest again, "No hospital, I'm fine I just need a first aid kit." Sam steps in with a calm, no-nonsense tone. “On it, I'll ask the bartender.”

Tara, who’s been silently observing the whole time, takes charge. Her voice is soft but firm as she grabs the first-aid kit from Sam’s hands once she rejoins the group. “I’ll do it,” she says, her gaze never leaving yours. “You’ve done enough tonight. Let me take care of you.”

Mindy, who’s been watching the exchange with a smirk, suddenly chimes in, a teasing edge to her voice. “Look at you, Y/n. Who knew you had this much of a protective streak? Tara’s got you all worried, huh?”

You feel your face flush, but before you can respond, Tara shakes her head at Mindy’s comment, her worry deepening. “She’s hurt, Mindy. It’s not funny.” Her voice softens as she turns back to you, “You’re really gonna be okay, right? I— I don’t want you to be hurt.”

You can see how much she cares, and it makes your chest tighten with emotions. Tara’s usually so tough, so guarded, but right now she’s nothing but concerned.

You try to reassure her, even though the tenderness in her gaze makes it hard to keep your cool. “I’m fine, really. You don’t have to worry so much.”

But Tara doesn’t seem convinced, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I can’t help it,” she admits softly, her voice almost a whisper. "I care."

The weight of her words lingers in the air, and for a moment, everything feels a little clearer between you two. Tara doesn’t just care for your safety—she cares about you.

She gently guides you to an empty booth, pulling you away from the noise and chaos of the bar. It’s just the two of you now, in your own little corner of the world. You slide into one side of the booth while she settles on the other, a table separating you, but it somehow feels closer than ever.

The silence stretches between you both, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. You hold your hand out toward her, palm facing up, your fingers trembling slightly from the sting. Tara’s gaze softens when she sees the injury, and with a quiet sigh, she reaches for the first-aid kit.

Her movements are slow, deliberate, as she opens the kit, pulling out antiseptic and gauze. You watch her, your heart pounding for reasons you can’t quite explain. She carefully dabs the cotton swab in the antiseptic, then presses it gently to the cut. You wince, a sharp sting jolting through your palm.

“Sorry,” Tara murmurs, her voice low and soothing. She frowns, her brows knitting together in concentration as she takes more care, dabbing at the wound more carefully this time. “I’m trying to be gentle. You’re not a fan of this whole ‘injured’ thing, huh?”

You chuckle softly, still feeling the burn of the antiseptic. “Nope. Not my favorite thing," your voice coming out a little more awkward than you intended.

"I can't believe a dork like you got in a fight."

You let out a small laugh, trying to hide the fact that her words have made your heart race. “I’m not a dork,” you protest weakly.

Tara raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eye. “Really? Because I could’ve sworn you were about to pass out the second I touched your hand.”

You blush even harder. Tara’s smile is warm, genuine, and it makes the sting of the antiseptic a little easier to bear.

“It’s not the touch,” you mumble, “it’s just... you’re too close.”

She laughs softly, a sound that makes your heart flutter. “Yeah? Guess I’ll just have to keep getting closer, then.”

Her words, teasing as they are, send a warmth rushing through you. You try to play it cool, but inside, you’re an absolute mess. The way she cares for you, even in such a simple moment, makes everything feel... different. It’s like a tiny shift in the air, making you want to stay in this little bubble of quiet with her forever.

Tara looks up at you, the gears turning in her head. Was she being unfair right now? Giving you mixed signals.

She continues cleaning the wound, but now with even more care. She choses her next words carefully not wanting to sour the mood, “I'm really sorry for how I treated you. I think with everything that happened last year, I was scared to let new people in, and so I was wary of you even though you’ve been nothing but amazing to me. I guess I just had my guard up and it was unfair and—"

"I know Tara, I forgive you don't worry," you smile at her. And its pure and genuine, and Tara knows that you mean that whole heartedly.

As Tara finishes bandaging the cut on your palm, she gently flips your hand over to check for any other injuries. Her fingers graze across the back of your hand, and she notices the bruised knuckles. For a split second, she pauses, her breath catching in her throat.

Her eyes linger on your hand—on the faded bruise, evidence of the fight you’d just gotten into—and for some reason, she can’t help but think it’s... hot. The way your hand looks, bruised but still strong, it makes something in her chest tighten. You got into a fight for her.

She quickly shakes her head, trying to push the thought away, but it lingers. What the hell is wrong with me? she thinks, her face flushing slightly. Tara quickly looks up at you, trying to mask her sudden embarrassment with a forced nonchalance. But you're just sat there beaming at her, telling her its okay for how she treated you in the past, that you forgive her.

Suddenly, Tara couldn’t just take it anymore. The way you were looking at her, so soft, so genuine, made her heart flutter in a way she couldn’t ignore. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and then, without warning, she leaned forward, her eyes locking with yours.

“You know,” she started, her voice low and teasing, “Mindy said you were incapable of acting first.”

You blinked, confusion flashing across your face. “What?” you asked, not sure where she was going with this.

Tara smirked, clearly amused. “And that if I wanted something to happen, I’d have to be the initiator.”

You furrowed your brow, still not understanding. “What are you talking about?”

Tara’s smile widened, and she leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping even lower. “I find that hard to believe, given how you just got in a fight for me. I know there’s a little boldness in you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and before you could even process what she was saying, she added, “But I guess so do I.”

Without warning, Tara reached across the table, her hand grabbing the front of your shirt. You froze, your breath catching as she pulled you closer, her face just inches from yours. Your heart raced as she leaned in, and then—before you could even think—her lips were on yours.

It was soft, tentative at first, like she was testing the waters. But then it deepened, and everything around you seemed to fade away. The kiss was warm, gentle, but there was an undeniable intensity to it, as if she was pouring everything she felt into that moment. Your uninjured hand instinctively reached for hers, feeling the pulse of her heartbeat against your fingertips.

When the kiss finally broke, both of you pulled away, breathless. Tara’s eyes were wide, a soft blush coloring her cheeks as she looked at you, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

You blinked, your mind racing, and then you couldn’t help but grin, a nervous laugh escaping you. “Damn... I should’ve gotten into a fight a lot sooner.”

Tara rolled her eyes, but her smile was all warmth, and you could see in her eyes that there was something deeper. Something unspoken, but undeniable.

Something that was always there.

Taglist: @cobaltperun @machyishere @freakshow2501 @nwestra @mcchicken88 @101rizzlrr @snowdrop1026 @ilovesneezing069 @btay3115 @burntoutghost

[myth1cs]

Love Warning (Hirai Momo x M!Reader)

A bit longer, a little more story with smut at the end to wrap it up.

Word Count: 5,428

"Y/N you can't be serious! Do you know how much I pay you?!"

"Momo it isn't about the money."

You were Momo's secretary ... well not for much longer. You decided you wanted to do more with your life and get a different job. You weren't leaving because your new job would pay more but because it was something you were generally interested in. Being a secretary behind a desk all day every day just wasn't your type of life style.

When you came to that realization you submitted your 2 week notice to Momo and that's what led you to this situation.

"Come on Y/N just name your price and I'll get it for you. Just please don't leave the company you're the best secretary I've had."

"Its not about that. I'm just so tired of spending my life behind a desk looking at the computer."

Momo grabbed your shoulders and looked you dead in the eye. "Y/N please I can't lose you. I don't think I'll ever find someone with half of the expertise that you have."

A soft sigh left you. You fully understood the company was pretty much being carried by you and it would likely see a loss of income if you left but didn't want this to be the reason that you continue to live a boring life.

"My decision is final Momo. I won't change my mind, please understand my decision." You pushed Momo's hands off of your shoulder and left her office.

As soon as you closed the door Momo clenched her fist. "You filthy swine Y/N! After everything I've done for you this is how you repay me? I helped you pay off your student loans, helped you find your first house, I even extended your deadlines which made all the investors yell at me. You won't be leaving the company."

The following day

You walked into work just like any day. You wanted to avoid talking to Momo as much as possible. It's not that you didn't want to see her its just that you didn't want to have any more unnecessary arguing between you two.

"Y/N it's good to see you. How have you been?" Your coworker Han Ji-sung greeted you. It was strange though. Usually Han is someone who keeps to himself. Usually he doesn't interact with you or anyone for that matter so why was he suddenly being talkative towards you?

"I'm fine Han and you?"

"I've been doing well Y/N. I've finally decided to start talking to others instead of being locked inside my cubicle all day."

"Really? I'm glad to hear that."

"Want to grab a snack in the break room with me before you get to work?"

"Sure why not. I skipped breakfast this morning so I could go for a quick snack."

You walked with Han into the break room only to realize it was different from the last time you saw it. Now there were a variety of things in there from vending machines, arcade games, a TV, consoles, and even a variety of board games. "Since when did this room get a renovation?"

"Didn't you hear? Momo actually went ahead and renovated the break room after we all left. It must've cost her a lot of money huh?"

"Momo did all of this?" To say you were a bit shocked would be an understatement. You weren't dumb you knew that she likely did all of this to encourage you to stay but you didn't know she would go this far.

"Honestly I'm glad to know that our boss actually cares about our well being. I always felt like she gave off cold vibes but I'm glad I was proven wrong."

"She probably doesn't care much for you, she's likely just doing this to convince me to stay." You thought to yourself. You didn't have the heart to tell Han that Momo likely wasn't doing this out of the kindness of her own heart.

"Yeah ... she really is a great boss huh?"

"Are those my two favorite employees Han and Y/N? It's so nice to see you two here." Momo went up to the both of you and put one of her hands on Han's shoulder and the other on yours.

"Han go ahead and go home today you deserve it."

"A-are you sure Mrs. Hirai?"

"Of course now go ahead and go home."

You waited for Han to leave before you spoke up. "Momo isn't this a bit too much?"

"Mhm? What do you mean Y/N?"

"Don't act dumb. I know you did this to try to keep me here."

"Y/N this isn't about you. I did this cause I thought that the break room could use a renovation."

"H-have you been sleeping?" You noticed Momo sounded tired. You could tell she was acting energetic. Was she really neglecting sleep over you leaving?

"What? Of course I have! What kind of question is that?!"

You let out a sigh filled with concern "Momo I understand you want me to stay but still you shouldn't be doing this to yourself."

She let out a soft chuckle "I already told you it isn't about that. I respect your decision. I'll be in my office if you need me."

What should you say? Should you stop her? "No there's always the chance I'm wrong. Her business doesn't involve me." is what you thought to yourself but you couldn't shake a nagging feeling in your head. You had a feeling you'd find out what it is sooner rather than later.

-

That Night

You were supposed to have clocked out an hour and a half ago. But here you were hiding under your desk waiting for everyone to leave. You wanted proof, you had to see it with your own eyes. Was Momo really neglecting sleep?

The last employee Yu Jimin (Karina) left and you peaked over your desk.

"She's the last one. Now I'm alone, what could convince Y/N to stay? Ah I know but I need to start now or else I won't finish in time."

Momo grabbed her keys for her car and left the office.

"Sh-shes really doing this to keep me around. Shit this is bad I have to make a choice where neither option is good I either stay and continue doing a job I hate for the rest of my life or I leave. But I can't stand watching this. She is probably stressed out because of me so leaving isn't an option but neither is staying here!"

Unsure what to do you stayed around and waited for Momo to return. "Shit, shit, shit what do I do? Why are you stubborn Momo just give up on me I'm not worth it."

After waiting a while you finally heard the doors open.

"What are in the bags she's carrying?"

"Fuck I got lost in the store. I need to get started now."

Momo rushed into the office and started to get what she bought out of the bags. It was ... decorations?

She went around and decorated the office to make it look nice. "But what could possibly be the occasion?" You questioned yourself. You couldn't do anything but watch as your boss ran around putting up decorations.

As much as it pained you seeing your boss run around even though she was clearly tired you were also getting tired. "No not now." you thought to yourself. But it didn't last long eventually your tiredness got the best of you and you fell asleep.

-

Morning

Momo finished decorating the office. She never noticed you hiding under your desk likely due to her exhaustion. You woke up sitting on the cold floor cramped under your desk.

"Ouch I'm never sleeping on the floor again."

You picked yourself up and looked around. You quickly noticed the decorations in your office and decided to check the time. It was still before opening hours. You started to wonder where Momo was in all of this and how she didn't find you when she was decorating your office.

But did you really have time to ponder that? Shouldn't you try to leave before Momo catches you in the building?

As if right in queue Momo walked in the building carrying bags. "Hopefully they should stay warm until Y/N gets here. If not I hope he's okay with reheated food."

"She brought food? But why?" Many questions raced through your head and you considered if you should confront her about this. "Should I confront her? No if I try to confront her now she'll likely be more defensive. If I want to get a real answer from her I'm going to have to do it at the right moment but when would be a good moment for me to get her to tell me the truth." For you this was beyond trying to keep you in the company. Momo must have ulterior motives for trying to keep you around. "Even if she thinks I'm a good employee worth keeping around she wouldn't go to this length to get me to stay so what is it?"

"Maybe I should try to get her to come out and drink with me. But if I do it suddenly she might get suspicious. Ah I got it I'll do it on my last day here at work and will just use the fact that it's my last day as an excuse."

You finally had a plan in mind to get the "truth" from Momo. Now you just had to keep hiding until your shift started so you could "suddenly" show up.

Momo was walking by putting in the finishing touches but suddenly your stomach growled. Since you skipped dinner by staying in the office and hadn't had breakfast you were hungry and your stomach was trying to tell you that but it unintentionally alerted Momo that someone was in the office building. "Is someone there?"

You tried to think of something to do but it was too late she was already heading towards your location. You did the only thing you could think of and that was to pretend you were still asleep.

"Y/N?!"

She found you sitting under your desk.

"Guess he must've fell asleep. But why did he choose to sleep under his desk?" She had many questions but didn't want to disturb you. "Come on Y/N let me put you on the couch." Momo picked you up and carried you to the break room.

But you did notice something while she was carrying you. It was almost as if your heart was speeding up when she laid her hands on you. You also noticed her smell, she smelled perfect. You wanted to be able to smell her scent all day long and were a bit sad when she finally laid you down on the couch in the break room.

"I should've gotten a blanket for the break room" Momo thought to herself. She decided on taking off her jacket and used it to cover you in order to keep you warm.

Momo got a good look at you "Ugh Y/N why do you have to be so ... wait he's sleeping and no one is around so before he wakes up I could ... no wait what am I thinking?! I shouldn't think this!"

She ran out of the break room and that was your queue to "wake up."

Before you got up you took a moment to compose yourself. Your heart was still beating fast from when she carried you to the break room. "All she did was carry me so why is my heart beating fast?"

After a few minutes you were able to compose yourself and left the break room. It was 20 minutes before the office opened.

You didn't see Momo anywhere so you decided to check her office. As you made your way to the office you noticed how the building was decorated. She must've put in a lot of effort while you were sleeping. Honestly you were surprised she did all of this on her own.

Walking up to her door took a deep breath and lightly knocked on her door. "Y/N is that you? Come in."

Opening the door you saw Momo behind her desk working. "I see you finally woke up. Were you crunching numbers too hard yesterday and decided to take a nap under your desk?" You weren't expecting her to have the current demeanor she had but decided to go along with it.

"Yeah I guess I was overworking myself. It didn't help that I stayed up until 1am the night before."

"Geeze Y/N you tell me to get better sleep when I think you should be focusing on yourself."

"Actually I saw the building was decorated did you-"

"No it wasn't me. I actually hired people to come and decorate it."

"You're lying." You thought to yourself.

"What's the occasion?"

"Well today is Karina's birthday. I think it would be a nice change if from now on the building was decorated for peoples birthdays."

"Oh really? Well that's nice but what event should we hold to celebrate?"

"Event?"

"Well yeah, Are you a boring person? I bet you're the type of person that held the most boring parties during college."

"That's not true Y/N! I am a fun person to be around!"

"Prove it to me then."

"How do you want me to prove it to you?"

"Mhm ... How about we go to the bar on my last day. It'll be my treat."

"Fine, I'll show you just how fun of a person I can be Y/N."

"Well I'll see you then Momo."

"Y/N wait do you want to get breakfast with me?"

"Breakfast?"

"Since it'll be a few more minutes before work starts I thought it'd be a nice gesture."

Before you could answer your stomach growled and Momo took that as a yes before you said so. She grabbed your hand "Alright let's go!"

There it was again the butterflies you felt. As Momo was leading you somewhere you were stuck looking at her face, her warm soft hand was wrapped around yours and you were hoping she wouldn't let go.

-

"We're here Y/N. Let's eat inside!" She let go of your hand which made you a little upset inside.

"Welcome, What would you two like to order?"

-

Both of you were seated at a table waiting for your food. Momo was looking around the area and decided to look at the ceiling.

"Y/N look we're under a mistletoe! Should we kiss?"

"I - I - uhm..." Your face was turning red. You looked up and confirmed that you both were sitting under a mistletoe. You knew she said it in a joking manner and likely wasn't being serious but a part of you was hoping she was being serious.

Momo was leaning forward slowly. You noticed and also started to lean forward.

Before your lips could meet the waiter came to deliver the breakfast you both ordered.

They set your food on the table and smiled "I'm sorry am I interrupting something?"

That was enough to snap both you and Momo back into your current situation which caused both of you to jump back on your seats.

"No wait it isn't what it looks like!" Momo exclaimed.

"Don't worry couples come here to share romantic moments all the time."

Unsure of whether you should correct them you looked at Momo to see if she would take the initiative to do but she gave you the same look.

"Well if that's all I'll leave you both to it."

"Y - Y/N I'm sorry I got carried away."

"No I don't mind."

Eating in silence you were waiting to see if Momo would break the silence or if maybe you should.

"Uhm anyways Y/N ... how would you suggest I dress for when we go out drinking?"

"Just anything you want."

"So just whatever I find comfortable?"

"Yeah, It's supposed to be a relaxing event for us so just whatever you want to wear will work."

After finishing breakfast you both returned to the office.

-

5 days until Y/N's last day

You wanted to talk about one of your coworkers to see if anyone else has noticed Momo's change in behavior.

"Mina sorry to bother you while your on break but do you have a minute?"

Myoui Mina was the one directly below you. She was also the person who'd most likely replace you once you left.

She put her phone in her pocket before looking up at you "Go ahead Y/N what's up?"

"Have you noticed Momo's behavior change in the past week or so?"

"Yeah I thought that much was obvious."

"W-wait you knew and you haven't done anything about it?"

"Y/N our job is to sit behind the computer and type some numbers in every now and then. It's better not to get involved in things that don't relate directly to us. You might find something you don't like."

"What are you saying?! Momo could be going through some hard times and you're okay with doing nothing?"

"Even she's replaceable."

"You piece of-"

"Calm down Y/N everything is going to be fine."

"And I'm assuming you know more than you're letting on."

"Of course, but you already know you won't get that information out of me."

"Pft ... bitch."

"Y/N if I may ask why do you care so much? After all your leaving in five days, whether or not this company burns to the ground shouldn't be of any concern to you."

"I - I just care alright? It's basic human sympathy."

"No it's not that. You have never been that type of person. Wait don't tell me you have a little crush on our boss don't you Y/N?"

"What?! No I don't!"

Mina smiled at you. She walked up to you and you started taking steps back until you hit the wall. Her arms trapped you against it and you felt her breath hit your neck.

"Let me give you a piece of advice Y/N. Give up or you might regret what you find."

"What are you-"

In a swift motion Mina kissed your lips briefly. They were soft and moist but as quickly as they came they left.

"If you insist on pursuing what you're doing even after my warning then get used to listening and obeying. She doesn't like the defiant type."

"She? Mina what are you-"

"Sorry Y/N but I'm on the clock again. Consider my kiss a "good luck" charm."

Mina left the break room and went back to her office and you were still against the wall in shock from the events that had just transpired.

"Y/N did you just see a ghost or what?"

"Huh?! Karina when did you get in here?"

You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn't realize Karina walked in the break room.

"You didn't notice me? Now I'm really wondering what's been on your mind."

"What do you know about Mina?"

"Oh I see what's happening here."

"You do?"

"You have a crush on Mina and you blew it just now."

"No you have it all wrong!"

"That's why Mina left looking like that. She was probably pissed off at your lackluster attempt of a pickup line. Don't worry Y/N since I'm such a good co-worker I'll teach you what to do so you can get a date with her."

"Would you look at the time I should actually get going."

"Nuh uh Y/N your staying with me."

Karina proceeded to grab your shoulders and kept you occupied for the rest of your break.

-

Day 0

You were at your house getting ready for the night with Momo. You dressed in what you thought was a nice mix casual and somewhat professional.

Heading out to the bar you were hoping that Momo would open up about what's been troubling her in a more casual setting. If anything else her getting drunk should get her to be more honest.

Finally you arrived and called Momo "Hey I'm here where are you?"

"I'll be there in a bit, just hang on tight for me Y/N."

You let out a sigh and decided to go ahead and go inside. Picking a table in the corner you waited for her to arrive and you didn't have to wait long.

Momo finally arrived but you were a bit surprised by her choice of clothing. From the hat, to the jeans, the jacket, and the tie that covered her cleavage it was all very expressive of her body. Something that you never thought you would catch your boss in.

"Ah there you are Y/N."

She sat down next to you and you had to use every ounce of will power to avoid looking at her chest.

"Y/N I really hoped you would have changed your mind by now but you haven't."

"Mhm yeah sorry but my decision is final."

You noticed something in her eyes once you said that. Almost as if what you said triggered something in her.

"Well besides that let's celebrate you, tonight goes to a better future for you Y/N!"

"Let's go ahead and order our drinks."

-

She has a better alcohol tolerance than you thought. Every time you tried to change the conversation she changed it right back to whatever you were talking about before.

You knew she was still sober enough and you felt like you couldn't drink anymore before you started to get seriously drunk and forget why you invited her out to begin with.

"Are you done Y/N? Do you want to call it a night?"

"No I'm not done yet. I'll get myself another drink."

"I'm not making this night go to waste!"

As you sipped down another glass you started feeling dizzy. But when you looked at Momo you realized she was also starting to feel side effects from the alcohol.

"Hey anyways Momo why don't you want me to leave so badly?" You had to ask now or else you would risk letting yourself get wasted.

"Because I said so!"

"Oh so she's that type of drunk." you thought to yourself.

"I bet I can drink more than you Momo."

"No you cannot Y/N and I'll prove it!"

She grabbed another glass and drank it completely in a few seconds. To see just how drunk she was you wondered if you could hand her one of your glasses and get her to drink it.

Without hesitation she grabbed the glass you handed her and downed it.

"Give me more Y/N I'll drink it!"

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

"No now give me more!"

Momo was starting make a scene so you decided to get her to out of their. "Yah where do you think you're taking me I wasn't done!"

Ignoring her yelling you paid the bill and dragged her out of the building despite her protest.

"Where do you live Momo I'm taking you home."

"I'm not telling! Bring me back to the bar I wasn't finished."

You sighed and figured you'd have to bring her back to your place instead.

The usual small walk to your home felt more like half an hour. "Y/N let me go!" Momo repeated all the way back to your home.

Finally you arrived back home while holding her arm. "Can you calm down?!"

"Nooooo Y/NNN I'm not calming dowwnn!"

"Can ask you something Momo?"

"Not until you get me my drink!"

You sighed and got the bottle of alcohol you had. Getting it out and pouring her a shot and handing it to her. "Now can I ask questions?"

She took a sip before answering you "Fine Y/N-ie just cause you gave me this."

"Cause I looovve you Y/N. Do you know how annoying it is to try to convince your favorite employee that you have a crush on to stay only for them to end up leaving?!"

"You have a crush on me?"

"Of course Y/N but I don't think I'll ever tell you though."

You were shocked. Your boss was in love with you this whole time? "Momo I don't know what to say."

Out of the blue Momo got up and made her way to you. "You know how fucking annoying it is to go and do so much and not have it pay off Y/N?"

"Momo I-"

Before you were able to finish talking she used her finger to squeeze your cheeks. "I don't remember giving you permission to speak Y/N. I don't like the defiant type."

As she spoke those words a memory came back to your mind.

"If you insist on pursuing what you're doing even after my warning then get used to listening and obeying. She doesn't like the defiant type."

Quickly you shut your mouth not daring to speak.

Momo saw what you did and chuckled.

"Did Mina tell you that you should obey me?"

"H-how did you know?"

"How about I show you instead of telling you?"

She quickly shoved you to the floor before you could process her words. A loud "thud" sound echoed through your house and you started to feel pain.

"Ouch!"

Momo took off her top and tie but left her jacket on. Her breasts were now fully exposed for you to see.

"I would let you play with these but since you're no longer my employee then I guess I can't let you." She said this with a grin on her face. Playing with herself and the only thing she let you do was watch.

Momo could see your eagerness to touch her in your eyes. "P-please?"

"Is my baby that desperate to touch a girl's breast? But I thought you said your decision was final or did you change your mind?"

"I changed my mind! Please Momo I can't take the teasing."

"Your erection is growing baby. Want help with that."

"Yes!"

"Hm no. Well at least not on your terms."

Momo was having a power trip. Flaunting her big breasts in front of you and not letting you get the relief you wanted. She laid on you, her breast were being pressed up against you and she started kissing your neck.

"Tomorrow let everyone know who owns you."

"But I have to go shopping tomorrow I don't want everyone to know-"

She grabbed your throat and squeezed it making you unable to breathe. "Disobey me one more time without permission and I'll make you fucking regret it Y/N. Do you understand?"

Tears fell down your eyes and you felt yourself losing consciousness. "Yes I understand please let me breathe!"

"Good now, regarding your statement, I don't care. Let everyone in public know what happened today."

She continued marking you and she didn't stop until your whole face was covered with hickeys.

"Any statements you want to get out before I continue Y/N?"

A little confused on why she was suddenly allowing you to ask a question you asked the first question you could think of "Why are you still wearing the hat and jacket?".

"I like this hat. And the jacket excites me. It makes me feel like we're in my office and I'm fucking you. Obviously I wouldn't dare to actually do it there but it adds to the role-play I guess. By the way want anything else? Maybe a drink or a snack?"

"N-no I'm fine Momo."

Although she was clearly in control over you she still took the time to make sure you weren't in total misery. She still cared about your well-being and a part of you felt slightly relieved that even in an intoxicated state she would still consider your feelings.

Momo took off her pants revealing that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. "Finger me." Not one to question her authority you put 2 fingers in and went at a moderate pace so not to discomfort her.

"Mhm so obedient Y/N but slow down the pace a little bit it feels uncomfortable."

You listened to her and slowed your thrust into her pussy. "Yeah just like that Y/N keep that pace for me."

She pulled off your pants and underwear then proceeded to slowly move her hand along your hardening cock.

Her fingers were so soft yet they ignited something in you. Your sensitive cock was hardening with the feeling of her precious hands running along your cock.

"Speed up your pace and I'll pump your cock faster."

Wanting to release your cum you thrusted your fingers into her wet pussy. Keeping her word she pumped your cock faster as your speed increased.

Momo started playing with her nipples and moans came out of her. "Ugh ~ Ah" Twisting and turning her body from the feelings she was getting you were also getting harder from the feeling of her weight shifting on you. "I can't believe I am fingering my boss while watching her play with herself on top of me!"

"I'm cumming!" Your boss released her cum all over you. Her fluids stained the shirt and fingers and shortly after your semen ejaculated from your cock.

Momo moved, now she was sitting on your face "Lick my pussy while I'm still sensitive!"

You inserted your tongue into her pussy and you licked all around her insides. You got a little daring and tried to grab her breasts.

Out of nowhere she grabbed your wrists all of a sudden.

"You piece of shit. Did I allow you to touch me?"

Fear filled your body and you were unable to move. The room was silent for what felt like hours but was only a few seconds.

"Speak to me you fucking bitch!"

"No you didn't!" Your voice was shaky. Momo could hear the fear that was in your voice.

"Left or right?"

"Right?"

Momo let go of your right wrist and twisted your left wrist so hard until it broke.

"Ow fuck!"

"Maybe this will make you learn your lesson. Now lick my pussy."

Not wanting to lose your other wrist you licked her pussy like your life depended on it. Tears fell down your face from the pain you felt.

Moans fell out of Momo's mouth not caring about whatever pain you could be in. After a few minutes her juices flowed out of her pussy and went in your mouth.

The stream lasted so long you were choking on her cum. Eventually you were able to cough up her cum and avoided death by Momo's cum.

"You taste amazing boss." you said while panting.

She got off your face and kissed you. Taking in her own fluids with her tongue, you were able to taste the sweat dripping off of Momo's face.

Momo got off you and laid on the floor before she went to sleep.

Being too tired you slept on the floor with Momo by your side.

-

You were woken up by a loud scream.

"Y/N what happened?!"

Being too tired to respond you just stayed silent.

Momo started to piece together what happened as she saw her breasts and your cock out along with her mouth tasting like alcohol.

"Oh Y/N I'm so sorry I don't know what came over me!"

"Can you drive me to a hospital? My wrist still hurts after you broke it."

"I broke your wrist?!"

-

You and Momo arrived back at work shortly after your hospital visit. She insisted you don't work due to your broken wrist and with your face being covered in hickeys but you felt guilty for making her drink with you.

As you were walking to your office you heard someone call your name. "Long time no see Y/N."

Turning around you saw Mina

"Momo convince you to stay?"

She ignored the hickeyes all over your face but you weren't about to bring them up.

"Y-yeah."

"Was part of convincing you breaking your wrist?"

"You could say that."

Mina strutted towards you going next to your ear "It's not fair Momo got her turn with you. She won't mind if I share you with her so come to my office during your break Y/N."

Giving you a peck on your cheek before she walked away. She left you standing in the hallway.

"Wait how does she know so much about Momo?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was actually supposed to be a shorter smut (2,000-ish words) but I got carried away with the story which caused me to delay it.

Not sure if anyone caught it so I'll say it. In the beginning Y/N said "I'm never sleeping on the floor again" but ended up sleeping on the floor again. I just thought it was funny.

-

Unfortunately this wasn't a 20 chapter series. (I really wanted it to, but there's no way I would fit smut in every chapter.)

[tmpestuous]

someone to stay

summary: bucky offers you solace as your mental fatigue rears its head.

pairing: boyfriend!bucky x reader

warnings: angst, reader anxiety/depression, fluff, non-sexual nudity, a comforting buck <3

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this was inspired by my own issues right now because i definitely need it at the moment :’) 

Getting out of bed was always the most difficult part of your day. Even when you were feeling okay, even when nothing was immediately wrong. You would wake up and stare into the void, blankets smothering your body and eyelids still heavy from the bit of sleep you’d managed to get.

There wasn’t anything pressing your anxiety, but having been out of your routine for a few weeks always left you feeling unmotivated. After having been sidelined from missions for a multitude of reasons—injuries, mental stability, and a dwindling success rate—you had nothing to do. None of your side hobbies entertained you long enough to keep you busy, so you fell into the same cycle. You sometimes wished you could sleep all day or even just stay stagnant in bed, but you knew it’d only make the fatigue worse.

Today, however, was not one of those days where you pushed yourself out of bed. Not bothered to check the time, you closed your eyes again. It was raining outside anyways, the perfect weather to stay cuddled in bed for. Soon enough, you found some sleep again, even if you’d regret it later.

Bucky, who was not sidelined from missions, had just come back from one, more than eager to see you. He was back earlier than expected, so he only figured you wouldn’t be in your usual spot waiting for him in the hangar of the compound. It was a bit past noon, so he assumed you were keeping busy elsewhere.

After a quick debrief, he made it to your shared room, only to be led to confusion at the curtains still drawn and all of the lights off. He knew how much you hated sleeping in too late, only ever sleeping past 9 if you were really exhausted and/or hadn’t gotten much sleep at all. Even then, you never let it get past 11 before you were up and out of bed.

Bucky knew you were taking your suspension a bit rougher than expected. He hated seeing you upset and he was even willing to skip out on a few missions to stay with you, but you’d insisted otherwise, saying “the bad guys don’t take breaks.” 

He never liked leaving you. Most of your missions had the two of you together, SHIELD thinking you worked well together even outside of your relationship. Going on missions without you meant he was always stuck with some reckless, inexperienced agent who wasn’t half as skilled as you a lot of the time. It was why he only liked the ones where he was with Sam or Steve, at least not having to stress about saving anyone.

He missed you on every single one. Your quips, how satisfying it was to see you kick people’s asses, and how swiftly you did just about everything. But Bucky also knew you needed a break. Your anxiety was more rampant lately, and it was affecting all of your skills on the field. The decision to bench you didn’t come easy to anyone, but especially not you.

You honestly had little to no idea what had you so anxious to start with, but anything else that triggered your anxiety only amplified it. Bucky was so reluctant to let Steve suspend you, but after you got seriously injured on a mission for lack of attention, he couldn’t argue against it anymore.

“You can’t be serious,” you said to Steve, tears in your eyes. “I’ve been injured so many times, why does that even matter?”

“It’s not just the injury,” Steve countered. “You’ve been off your game. I can’t risk losing one of our best members because you’re distracted.”

“I’m not dis—”

“You being distracted is how you ended up with a broken arm and a head injury,” he cut you off, making you look away from him. “You’re gonna end up dead if you keep on like this. I can’t deal with that loss, and neither can Bucky.”

Snapping your gaze back at Steve, you scoffed.

“So this is about Bucky?”

“This is about you, Y/n,” Steve said, his tone slightly more irritated. “He begged me not to bench you, said you just needed some time but even he knows putting you on the field again is risking your life.”

Wiping your tears away, you said nothing in response. You knew he was right, but the last thing you needed was to give in. It’d make you crumble, it’d make this whole situation real and you knew where you’d end up. 

Your conversation ended when Bucky walked in the room.

It was the right decision after all. However, Bucky’s chest ached knowing how low you were feeling. Knowing that you were doing everything just to get by, yet nothing at all. He hadn’t seen you in a melancholy state for years, but it always scared him. He barely made it out of his own episodes sometimes, panic manifesting through his bones. His worry only worsened at the thought of not being able to pull you from the darkness, the way you’d done so for him many times. 

Seeing you under the sheets, sound asleep past noon didn’t settle Bucky’s own anxiety. He was out on this mission for eight days, but you’d sounded okay when you spoke to him over the phone every night. 

Were you not getting any sleep? Were you falling asleep really late? Or was your current funk really getting to you?

Bucky set his duffel bag on the floor, shutting the door behind him. He decided against opening the curtains until you were awake, sitting on the edge of the bed next to your sleeping body, placing his flesh hand on your cheek gently.

“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning down and kissing your forehead a few times. “Let me see those pretty eyes, doll.”

Furrowing your eyebrows before peeling your eyes open, you were greeted with your favorite super soldier, a smile creeping on your face.

“Hi,” you said groggily, Bucky kissing your forehead again. “You’re back early.”

“Got the job done quickly,” he fed your curiosity. “What are you still doing asleep, doll? Are you okay?”

“What time is it?” You said, still unmotivated to get up from your lying position. 

“Almost 1,” Bucky answered before your eyes widened and you sat up, frantic about how the morning got away from you. “Hey, hey,” Bucky placed his hands on your shoulder, easing the tension a bit. “It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with oversleeping once in a while.”

You shook your head, avoiding Bucky’s gaze as you rubbed your eyes. “I shouldn’t have slept that long.”

Bucky pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then your cheek, then pulled your hands away from your eyes. The bags under them didn’t go without notice, Bucky getting more worried than earlier. He knew you weren’t sleeping well, and him not being here to soothe you must have made it worse.

“Is everything okay?” He asked again, never getting an answer from you.

You sighed. “I don’t really know, I’m just- I’m always tired and don’t wanna do anything even though I know I shouldn’t just stay in bed. I was gonna wake up early today to see if I could get moving but then I barely slept and thought a few more hours could be useful but now—”

“Shh,” Bucky said, pulling you into his embrace, rubbing your back softly. “There is still a lot of time left in the day, but I don’t mind sleeping this Sunday away with you after the mission I just had.” He kissed the top of your head a few times. “We can shower then eat and then rest. Sounds good?”

You nodded, with a muffled ‘okay’ into his chest before pulling away, Bucky standing and grasping your hand in his to head to the bathroom. 

Bucky turned the shower on, letting it run to get warm before turning back to you. After you helped Bucky take his tac suit off, he helped you shed your pajamas. The both of you took your underwear off, Bucky checking the water before you stepped in. 

You always enjoyed showering with Bucky, most after a mission when you were both tired. Though this was different since you weren’t the one coming home, the sentiment of being tired remained the same.

Bucky could tell you were tense, that something was still bothering you. He never wanted to pry, so he massaged the tension out of your shoulders, getting you to relax your posture a bit. You both worked your way around lathering each other with soap, your eyes doing their usual routine of scanning Bucky’s body for any cuts and bruises. Bucky decided to wash your hair, finding any means of making you feel relaxed. You sighed under his touch, leaning your head forward to rest against his chest as he rinsed your hair.

“Steve mentioned you going back on the field again,” Bucky eased into the conversation. “You feeling up for it?” Much to Bucky’s surprise, you shook your head, prompting him to lift your face in his hands. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You know you can talk to me.”

Sighing again, you leaned into his touch. “I’m not ready.”

“I thought you wanted to get back,” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows.

“I do,” you nodded. “But I just feel so… out of it. Like my mind is out of fuel and it’s putting my body on pause. I have no energy lately, I don’t really know what’s wrong with me.”

Bucky looked at you, a hint of sorrow in his eyes. He’d been there, where his body was craving one thing but his mind just never allowed him to satisfy any of his desires. Depression didn’t always look the same, but he could tell when it was starting to consume you.

The restless nights, the fatigue, the lack of energy and motivation. It was a stark contrast to your usual, productive self. Sometimes Bucky would have to slow you down for doing too many things at once, so it pained him to see you not want to do anything at all. 

He decided right then and there he’d take a pause from any missions until you were okay. Until he could see the spark in your eye again, the pep in your step. The energy being revitalized.

“It happens, baby,” he reassured. “You’ve helped me through some of my funks, so let me help you out of yours, hm?”

“You don’t have to, Bucky,” you shook your head, but he shushed you, a chaste kiss placed on your lips. “I’m serious, you don’t have to pause your life for me. People still need help and I’ll get out of my fatigue stint eventually, so—”

“You know you’re not gonna convince me otherwise, right?” He shut you up again, offering you a smirk and another peck to the lips. “I would drop everything for you. At any time, on any day, at any given moment. You are my world, doll. If you’re not okay, then my world isn’t okay.”

“But what if they really need you—”

“They won’t,” Bucky grabbed the comb to detangle your hair. “Now come on, let me help you ease your mind, hm?”

Knowing you couldn’t say no to him, you turned so your back was facing him, Bucky smoothly getting any knots out of your hair. 

He knew how much you loved it when he did your hair, knowing the process was super long and you didn’t want to do it half of the time. When he first heard you complain about having to do it, he made you teach him your whole routine for whenever you were feeling unmotivated to. It was one of many things he eagerly learned for you, always wanting to pamper you. 

Feeling a bit overwhelmed over the fact that you had him back, here with you as he did everything in his power to clear your head from the anxious thoughts, you couldn’t help but tear up. 

When he finished detangling your hair, holding it up with a clip, he saw you crying, quickly pulling you in his arms, kissing you everywhere he could. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he said, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Once he let you return the favor of washing his hair, you made him sit on the built-in bench in the shower so you wouldn’t have to reach up the whole time. 

Bucky loved touching you, but he swore to everything that he loved your touch even more. Your hands were so soft and gentle, with each lather and rinse of his head.

“Your hair’s getting long again,” you said, running your fingers through Bucky’s brown locks, the length now passing his ear. “Are you gonna cut it?”

Bucky shrugged, his hands finding comfort in your waist as you stood in front of him. He placed a kiss on each of your hips then your stomach before looking up at you.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he answered before standing, kissing your lips again. He knew how much you liked his short hair when he first cut it, but deep down you loved his long hair too. You just never forced him to keep one or the other, knowing how many memories his hair held.

Bucky loved how well you knew him, how well you understood him. It was the main reason why he took his time to do the same for you.

Once you were both out of the shower and dressed, Bucky picked up his phone to order some food. You’d told him you were craving Chinese the night before on your phone call while he was away, so he ordered all of your favorites as you finished drying your hair in the bathroom.

After eating dinner, Bucky slid under the covers of your shared bed, extending his metal arm for you to grab as you slid in next to him. Your head found its usual spot on his chest, both of his arms encasing you in the pressure you sought so many times, your left leg over his right one. 

“Thank you,” you said softly as Bucky rubbed your back just the way you liked it. “For never judging me.”

“I would never plan to,” he said, using his right hand to lift your chin up. “We’re human. We have our moments where we need a break, a reset. You taught me that when I needed to hear it. Don’t think that it excludes you, my love.”

Leaning up, you pressed your lips against his in a soft kiss that said more than enough. 

Pulling away, you looked into those blue eyes that meant the world to you.

“What would I do without you?”

“Force yourself to do your hair routine every week,” Bucky joked, making you roll your eyes playfully with a smirk.

You pressed a kiss on his chest before laying your head on it again. “I love you.”

“I love you more, doll,” he said, massaging your scalp to soothe you until you fell asleep.

Bucky could watch you be this peaceful forever, vowing to spend the rest of his days making sure you were okay. He always knew you’d return the favor, enjoying every moment spent with you like this, comforted best in his arms.

[jiminrings]

if-then

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 7k

glimpse: you're an alien in prince jungkook's planet — both literally and figuratively.

alternatively, jungkook gives his nickname for you to someone else in a fit of anger, and you've never been more upset.

[ fluff, angst, painfully oblivious n dense alien koo, mutual pining (yes MUTUAL!!!!), the glaring concept of not being good n whole enough to deserve love (yikes but i Swear it gets better), mentions of injuries ]

notes: after being asked for literal years to write an alien au, it's finally here!!!! mwah thank u for patiently waiting :D

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook’s fond of appraising things.

He’s fond of assigning values to things that may or may not hold some bit of importance to his life, whether its value proves itself in the present or the future. Jungkook likes setting his literal ducks in a row, and the little inanimate yellow tokens that his brother brought back from Earth serve as a discreet (not really, though) reminder that he may have some hoarder tendencies.

Jungkook’s not really a hoarder-hoarder; it just happens that he likes keeping things, sometimes for no apparent reason at all.

He likes swiping the flashlights that the night guards use to stash in his own personal “emergency” (not that there’s ever been one, nor will there ever be) cabinet, just because he wants to be prepared for a natural catastrophe that won’t probably ever happen in his area. He’s already seen a couple of films that humans have made, and if ever comes a time that Planet Twell has a dinosaurian monster battle it out with a gigantic prehistoric ape, Jungkook’s proud to say that he has a couple flashlights for him and his brothers to use.

In addition, Jungkook likes picking flowers just before they go out of season. His eldest brother’s already cussed him out for it, but he’ll still do what he does best (?), if best means “preserving” the flowers by drowning them in water every ten minutes so they wouldn’t wilt and he’d still get to see them during off-peak days.

Prince Jungkook likes appraising things in his own definition and pace. They’re never categorized in his head for what they actually do, but for what kind of unexplainable fulfillment fills his chest whenever he thinks about the item.

The youngest prince of Twell didn’t like it when there was a commotion at the lily field and the citizens ran out to see what it was about, instead of eating their slices of cake with the fondant that he made out of scratch. Jungkook didn’t like the fondant either because there must be something insanely wrong with itself (or it’s just that he made it just as bad), but he didn’t like being alone either when finding out about the taste.

He didn’t like seeing the tiger lilies he planted himself squished underneath an unknown figure, who may or may not have fallen from the sky, judging by the way you’re wincing alone with no aircraft, no parachute, nor any other person with you.

Jungkook didn’t like seeing you, an alien, who’s just as confused with the entire ordeal. You can’t remember anything about how or why you’ve gotten here — all you know is your name and who you are, and unexpectedly so, the first prince who’s gotten to where you are isn’t so thrilled about the fact.

He’s fond of appraising things, and although he’s not extremely excited about you just as he had been when Yoongi brought home trinkets from him during his trip to Earth (including the very seeds for the tiger lilies you’ve destroyed), he’ll make do.

Jungkook will try and make you mean something, if not everything, to him.

.

.

.

Prince Jungkook has come to learn that you’re part human.

You’re neither fully his kind nor his type (or atleast that’s what he thinks so) and he doesn’t know what to feel about that. He doesn’t know what to feel about only the slight panic that filled you knowing that it’s still unexplained of how or why you’re in Twell; even more, he doesn’t know what to feel that you’re neither scared nor intimidated by him.

You don’t know what to feel either when Jungkook, who’s only mildly shocked about your existence in general, delivers his first question to you and it’s not of the sort that you expected. He looks soft and round, unlike the hearsay about his kind that only amounts to half of you. He doesn’t look aloof and unaccepting at all — if anything, he looks at you like you’re the one who’s cruel instead of him.

Jungkook almost completely does not care about who you are or where you’re from, but what he cares about is if you have any trinkets with you that he could possibly have. Out of anything he could possibly solicit from you, he only asks for so little, no matter how odd.

“T-trinkets?” you squeak, brows raising in surprise. “I’m sorry, Prince Jungkook — y-you’re asking if I have trinkets so you could have them?”

“Yeah,” he nods, lips pursed and cheeks puffed out as he confirms your confusion. “It’s my birthday, and I want to have a trinket.”

“Oh,” you blink once, twice,  a small smile playing on your lips to replace the fact that you’ve been confused for the entire half hour since you came back to consciousness. “Happy birthday, prince.”

“I see.” 

“It’s thank you,” you mutter automatically, coughing lightly when he only knits his brows at you. He’s cute this way — innocent, even. “I-I mean you’re supposed to say thank you when someone greets you, or when someone does something nice for you in general.”

“Okay. My brother forgot to teach me that,” Jungkook hums in recognition, eyes briefly glowing with a bluish hue before he regains his composure. “Thank you.”

You wonder if staring is also frowned upon in this planet.

You wonder if it would get you a mean glare or a sarcastic snicker if you were to stare at Prince Jungkook a little longer without any thoughts floating in your brain, except for the fact that you are completely unaware that you’re already zoning out on him. 

You wonder if it would be wrong for your eyes to take in every single detail of him from his short hair that softly falls onto his forehead, to his supposed birthday attire that only consists of a white button-up, to his gleaming royal jewelry that rightfully so, only looks like it would belong to him and him only.

“Trinket?” he reminds you, head tilting and eyes widening as he cranes his neck to look at you beyond the table that separates the both of you.

“Oh! U-uhm,” you scour your pockets immediately just to present something, and bluntly put, you haven’t even checked your well-being, much less the possessions you have on yourself. You feel more than relieved to know that it isn’t empty, because oddly enough, you’d feel a little upset— a little down if you were to disappoint a prince you just met not more than an hour ago. “I have this handkerchief, I guess.”

“Perfect!” Jungkook exclaims, leaning to grab the baby blue square from you that’s embroidered with your initials that are unfamiliar to him. He clutches it into his hand tightly with a smile on his face, the happiness later dwindling when he realizes he has no clue of what he’s holding. “What is it supposed to do?”

You blank at that, meekly scratching your temple. “Nothing, I think. It’s just there for most people, but I’ve never had to use it.”

“You’ve never had to use it, but you still take it with you?” he attempts to clarify, a slight frown embedded into his lips as he looks down on your averagely prized possession.

“I don’t mean never as in never ever, and I’ve used it a couple of times like everyone else does, but it’s just-…” you trail off, shrugging helplessly because you can’t describe the concept of nothing to him easily. “It’s just there.”

You’re more than fatigued and a lot more confused (albeit less worried) about the semantics of your presence here in Twell, specifically in Prince Jungkook’s office, but the latter doesn’t seem to take mind as he takes you with an open mind.

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll have it,” he announces, shifting his eyes between you and your (his now) handkerchief that he’s slowly and hesitantly unraveling, only to put back into its original square form after every move.

“You will?” you almost snort, a tiny bit amused that a prince is clenching your handkerchief like its the most interesting thing in the galaxy.

“Yes,” he hums distractedly, looking up at you as he lightly scratches the embroidered teddy bear at the corner of the fold. “I will have you too.”

“You will?! You’re not going to dispose me or anything?” you straighten immediately, eyes more frantic and disbelieving to hear that you’re being taken care of (or something of the sort) than just awhile ago when you were unsure of your fate. “Why?”

“Don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs just as easily as you do. “I just want to.”

( ♡ ) 

Prince Jungkook isn’t so bad, and neither is Twell.

The planet isn’t so bad in the sense that although you don’t feel the most welcome you have ever been in your entire life, there’s a recognition that seeps into your bones that some of them, if not most, would set out a plate for you if ever Jungkook came into their homes. He’s the social butterfly of his family; the baby lamb that’s set out into the field to check up on everyone else and act as a mannequin of sorts that’s a little less superficial, and a little more warm.

Jungkook isn’t so bad either in the sense that although it’s the bare minimum to do so, he doesn’t throw his kindness back to your face even in the most critical situations, with now being the sole exception.

With the exception of now, Prince Jungkook has not ever acted rashly towards you. He wasn’t annoyed with you when you kept asking him questions of what it would mean to act as his security detail, and he wasn’t irked either when your questions about your heritage (and his by extension) toed personal lines that no one else would dare cross.

With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never acted rude towards you. He wasn’t as guarded with your existence like his older brothers were; as a matter of fact, he even came to your defense when some of them theorized that you were only here in their planet to act as a precursor for their downfall.

With the exception of now, Jungkook’s never been this cruel; with the ultimatum of his pride over your heart, he’s never made you feel this different and alienated from him — with, of course, the exception of now.

Heartbreak is a human emotion.

The weakness of the concept is disturbingly human and vulnerable. There’s no escape from it, even if the said percentage of human in your blood is barely half and could light a candle to your more evolved, far more powerful Twellian genes. It’s a sickening emotion to feel, much more have it get you carried away from what you have to do at hand.

The grip that said heartbreakhas on you is unimaginable, far more different than what your people, not humans, tell you how it’d feel like. There had already been an uproar when it was announced that you were appointed as Prince Jungkook’s guard, the news of an impure Twellian bearing the coveted position receiving every reaction possible — from fear, to distaste, and even to genuine amazement.

All of the kingdom’s advisers had theorized that despite you of being impure heritage, youwere superior in terms of physical capabilities. With everything else you’ve been theorized to lack at, you bite at the possibility that the ache in your chest is attributed to your stunted emotions.

You feel painfully human. You feel what heartbreak is, and compared to what others have made it out to be, it’s an emotion that you can’t put into words.

“You can’t, Jungkook,” you firmly say once more with your ears ringing, not because the volume of the club makes you want to get down on your knees, but because you’ve perhaps heard something far worse; far more grating, and far more overwhelming than what your heart could even bear. "All of your brothers specifically insisted for me to bring you back before midnight."

They say that your hearing’s supposed to be better. They say that you could see far more colors than what your alien counterpart could ever do. They say that for everything else you lacked, you made up for with the way you’re more physically advanced and therefore adept to protecting the planet’s youngest prince.

No one’s ever said that you’ll be safe from Jungkook himself.

"Jungkook, let's go home. Please," you plead through your teeth, the word you’ve last spoken being the latest term you’ve taught him. Jungkook, along with everyone else, is not familiar with begging; they’re not familiar with desperation so wrung out, there’s actually a word made just for it.

Jungkook only scowls at you, eyes turning a bright red as opposed to his usual pink allotted for you. "Butt out," he murmurs, tightly crossing his arms as his nostrils flare involuntarily. ”You promised me I could be out tonight."

You’re starting to get over the heartbreak little by little, the tantrum thrown by the young prince making you indifferent. 

Maybe you just misheard a few minutes ago — maybe, it was only a fluke and you didn’t hear it correctly the first time. Maybe it’s only your faulty impureness that made you susceptible to just hearing your nickname out of nowhere. Maybe, it’s not heartbreak that you were feeling, but rather only a subdued version of it by seeing Jungkook disappointed at you doing your job.

It’s your fault, you guess. Perhaps it’s the fault of the bustle of the club and the hundreds of dialects you could hear all at once finally got to you, overwhelming you to the point that you heard Jungkook calling for your name, despite not looking at you all.

You’re about to plead even more for the both of you to go back already; to save him from a lecture from all of his brothers and for you to be spared an even harsher scolding because they think you’ve gone too soft for him — but then you hear it. Again. 

Jungkook clenches his jaw tightly, eyes glowing a bright magenta before he opens his mouth.

"Come on, princess," he calls you by his term of endearment for you, yet his hand is outstretched for the female Twellian on his side.

He’s not calling you — he’s not even paying attention to you. Jungkook isn’t giving you a shred of his focus but he wants you to hear him call someone else the endearment he had playfully made up for you, to which you grew accustomed to without fail. He wants you to see how he gives it to someone else easily, the syllables falling from his tongue easily getting into the girl’s head.

Jungkook wants you to know how angry he is over you doing your job, he hits you where it hurts. He has no idea what heartbreak is supposed to feel like, but he doubts that you’d even feel that emotion over what he’s done — and if you actually do over something seemingly simple (for him atleast), he could only think that everyone else is exaggerating what it felt like.

Your heart, whatever is human of it, skips. It tightens and it loosens alarmingly so, almost as if you have no control for the liquid hurt that compromises you.

“I’ll show you a good time tonight, princess,” Jungkook whispers to her ear loudly for good measure, eyes darting up at you, only for him to see that you’ve been watching the whole time. 

You almost can’t tear your eyes away until Jungkook crashes his lips into hers, your nickname easily falling out of his lips as if the endearment is free for everyone; as if it’s never been yours in the first place and you only borrowed it out of desperation.

Your whole flight home is quiet.

Jungkook makes it back home before midnight, but you don’t.

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s been looking for you the whole day.

He’s been looking for you since he woke up, and that was fifteen ungodly hours ago when he had risen in a cold sweat. Jungkook felt sick to his stomach, and despite his insistence that something must be severely wrong with him for him to feel that way, the palace doctor (along with every other physician, healer, and reader he knew of) confirmed that nothing was out of place.

Jungkook’s supposedly okay, yet it feels like every part of him is being wrung dry. There’s an ache to his chest that renders him stupid because he feels like he’s forgotten every word, every lesson, and every vaguest bit of semblance that would detail about what he felt.

All of a sudden, Jungkook feels like he’s forgotten what the palace looks like. It’s as if he’s forgotten how tiles are supposed to feel cold on bare feet and how bleak his days are when he doesn’t have you by his side, even if the palace is also occupied by his brothers and the grounds are teeming with staff.

The young prince suddenly feels that he’s forgotten the very layout of his home because his mouth is agape at each room he walks in, simply because you’re not there. He’s practically turned the palace upside down just to grab a whiff of you somehow, and yet you’re nowhere to be found. 

Nothing from his or his brothers’ belongings are missing. There’s not a single piece of furniture that’s tilted askew. Nothing has been taken from Jungkook except his peace of mind and the capacity to just stay still because your sudden disappearance unsettles him like no other.

.

.

.

You’re back home, except you’re no longer dressed in the same outfit you left him in. 

Your uniform’s been ditched for something more casual — something more worn and lived in to the point that it looks like a shirt that’s never been yours in the first place. The sight of you, dressed in clothes that’s not yours, puts a bitter taste to Jungkook’s mouth.

He’s never been that selfish before. He’s generous and lenient as far as a prince could go, and yet he’s never felt this territorial over something seemingly as trivial as a shared garment.

The concern feels too vulnerable to the point that only a silly human, something Jungkook’s not, would consider it as a burden.

“Where were you?” he asks with the gentleness he didn’t think he’d possess after being worried shitless about you, the panic he had harbored for the longest time immediately dissipating at you.

Jungkook wants to be mad at you so, so, so badly. He wants to be angry at the way it was irresponsible for you to be alone because after all, your strength wouldn’t compensate for the gleaming fact that you’re not from here in the first place.

“I was on my leave,” you answer simply, keeping your hands behind your back as if this was any other outing with Prince Jungkook and not just Jungkook, the same man who’d call you princess for fun and hold your hand just for the sake of it.

“I didn’t say you could be on leave,” he lowers his voice, jaw tightening at the sight of you being indifferent towards him.

“I asked your brothers.”

Jungkook feels that sickness again. He feels that tinge of metal that lingers in the roof of his mouth and he wants to spit it out in front of you just to see if he’d find something else that’s not the sensations he’s been experiencing since you came around; if he’d find something else that’s not your doing yet affects him just as much.

“What if I needed protecting, hm? What if something happened to me while you were gone?” Jungkook half-taunts, shrinking on himself despite doing his hardest to appear big by crossing his arms.

“I knew you were in good hands, prince,” you tense, the tide that comes with your tone washing over Jungkook until he drowns in the realization that you were there while she was in his quarters. “I made to sure to hear that you were in very good company before I left.”

( ♡ ) 

Jungkook’s on a self-imposed break from his duties.

The prince’s duties almost exclusively involved chatting and being charismatic in general, along with the occasional goodwill event wherein he had to be all over the place just to take care of things, and not once did he ever take this long of a radio silent break — or atleast that’s what one of his brothers said.

He’s been cooped up in his room since you came back two weeks ago. Despite your absence (if you could even call it that) that barely lasted for an entire day, along with your confrontation just spanning within minutes, it’s been theorized by one of Jungkook’s brothers, again, that it’s because of your doing.

The youngest prince is theorized to be sulking over you and you simply cannot believe it.

You refuse to believe that Jungkook is bedridden with sadness because to begin with, his kind isn’t even supposed to feel such type of intense emotion. He shouldn’t be swayed by you — he shouldn’t be preoccupied with such pathetic, human emotion that you thought only you could feel because of him.

You rebuff the idea that he’s paralyzed with guilt, not only because you feel that it’s physically impossible for him to be, but because it’s him. Someone of Jungkook’s power and influence wouldn’t be so ridden with guilt that he refuses to show his face to you because he’s ashamed of hurting you.

You reject with your whole heart each and every idea that his brothers pitch you. You stay stationary with Jungkook and yet you will yourself to amount to something, even if it isn’t for him, just so the sickening feeling of being replaced won’t ever creep up to you.

You’re in love with him and it’s terrifying.

What’s even more terrifying is that you’re not the only one who knows so.

“I suggest not falling in love with Jungkook.”

You look up so sharply, your neck aches at the speed. Yoongi stands above you with a perfunctory smile, and with just the tiny bit of effort for him to come near you almost makes you forget that he’s Jungkook’s brother who had been particularly vocal about being wary of you.

“I’m sorry?” you murmur in disbelief, eyes wide and unblinking as you take into account his perfect tone.

“It’s obvious, you know?” he smiles tightly, pulling a chair to sit himself down across from you. Yoongi looks relaxed as he takes you in, almost as if he hasn’t spent half a year avoiding you. “I’ve seen the way you look at my brother. I’ve seen it over and over again when I was sent for a mission on your planet.”

You want to ask him why he’s telling you this. You want to ask badly why he’s saying this now when you’ve been certain for the longest time that your adoration for Jungkook wasn’t apparent in a land of creatures that don’t know what love, in your own terms, is supposed to look like.

You want to ask Yoongi why it shouldn’t be Jungkook, but you can’t bring yourself to — not because you know the answer deep down in your subconscious, but because you’re afraid that he would only make sense—

That he’d only solidify why Jungkook should never be in your orbit.

“Oh,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “How do you like my planet then?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“I’m sorry, my prince,” you immediately apologize, looking down on your lap as you wait for the impeding lecture; maybe even the impending punishment (you’re not sure what it is, but you know it would hurt someway and somehow) that comes with loving the prince, even by the sidelines.

“Jungkook is a wildcard at best,” he trails off, exhaling heavily as he listens for the heartbeat in the room behind you that houses his brother. “He’s brash and stubborn. He’s driven by emotions we are not even supposed to have.”

If Yoongi stands up now and jiggles the knob to Jungkook’s room with just the slightest bit of force, he can guarantee that the latter would be falling face-down to the floor, just because of the way he has his ears pressed to the door.

Jungkook is moping and sulking and to this day, he does remain miserable — the aforementioned factors don’t stop him from being desperate and nosy.

“What I’m saying is that he’s weak, Y/N,” Yoongi sighs. “The strong isn’t for the weak. That’s always been the case.”

“I know I’m weak, prince, but I-…”

“What?” the prince laughs out loud, the smile on his face wide and cheery. He’s so amused with you that his eyes glow into pink, throwing his head back as he regains his composure. “Jungkook’s the weak one. Not you, obviously,” he snorts. “He’s basically a loser with a crown on his head. He’s the one who doesn’t deserve you and not the other way around.”

You’re not the one who’s being insulted, and yet it feels like it. Your throat tingles and your ribs burn at the sudden urge for you to protect Jungkook, even if he’s in no real threat; even if it feels like all the baser parts of you are coming together just to make sense of the way you grow simultaneously weak and strong for him.

Jungkook, the actual subject who’s being insulted and is proving his brother right by being weak because he’s wallowing in his room out of self-deprecation, sadly hums to himself in agreement.

“I’m not-…”

“Don’t refute it — that’s an order.”

“Prince Yoongi,” you relent, trying to find the right words. “May I ask why you’re telling me this?”

“Because Jungkook’s weak,” Yoongi answers simply. “I’m just saying that you don’t have to be weak with him and for him.”

( ♡ ) 

You’re eating dinner by yourself in the staff room when Jungkook walks in.

It’s the first you’ve seen of him in three weeks. He’s evidently moving on from what seems to have been a rough period for him, right when you’re at your lowest that you’ve ever been.

Prince Jungkook decides that after three weeks, he should take you by surprise and meet you in the staff room wherein you’re alone, pushing your dinner around your plate instead of doing any other menial task you’ve assigned yourself just so it would feel like you’re in use.

You’re just there. You just happen to be there and no one, even you, could do anything about it. You just happen to be there with no exact purpose and it’s gnawing at you from the inside out.

It feels all over again that your family is the runt of the entire extended bloodline. It feels that you’re not remarkable enough for your relatives to surround you and that you don’t amount to anything enough, in whatever aspect it is, to get a shred of attention that isn’t pity,

It feels like the sinking sensation in your chest wherein you have to see that all your mom could contribute to the table is her trusted homemade recipe during holidays, lost amongst a sea full of pre-ordered meals that only your relatives could afford. Like it’s how your dad’s side of the family is borderline batshit crazy and he’s the only one that turned out to be good, and you can’t do anything but watch strangers your have for blood relatives belittle you. Familiarly so, it’s like you’re a kid again with your siblings sitting on the carpet and cleaning up wrapping paper from gifts, not because the gifts are for you, but because you just happen to be there.

You feel like the alien that you are wherein you don’t belong; wherein your family has to sit on the spare chairs dug up from the basement, situated on a portable table outside of the actual, solid dining table where everyone’s sat. 

Jungkook sits with you at that dusty, old portable table. He sits himself on the flimsy chair that’s only used for stepping and for laundry.

Jungkook sits with you, not because he just happens to be there, but because he’s there for you.

“I’m… sorry for calling someone else princess.”

“It’s no problem,” you murmur, putting your fork down as you keep your hands glued to your knees underneath the table.

“But there is a problem,” Jungkook counters, lowering his head to get you to look at him yet you don’t budge. “I’m not okay with calling anyone else princess other than you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“Then suit yourself,” you quip, even with your voice shaky and your vision blurry.

“I’m-…” Jungkook starts again, racking his brain for the limited vocabulary he has that surely isn’t enough to make up for his grave msitake. “I’m very sorry for making you feel bad. It must have hurt.”

“It’s no problem.”

“There’s a problem,” he insists. “I’m saying sorry because I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“But I did,” he frowns, beyond confused to why you keep denying the fact that he’s hurt you in ways he can’t even imagine.

“You really didn’t.”

“Why do you not want me to say sorry?” Jungkook questions, voice raising yet he still looks confused— innocent, even. “Did I… hurt you that much?”

It’s the last straw for you. The pure innocence in Jungkook’s words is and should be the last straw for you because it only makes you realize that he’d never understand you. It resonates in your head, more than ever, that you’ll never be able to understand him fully either because you’ll never be the same.

The only option the universe provides you is for you to love Jungkook halfway.

“You’ll have to excuse me, Prince Jungkook. I shall go back to-…”

“Can I not say sorry to you?” Jungkook bursts, darting his hand out blindly to get a hold on you before you leave.

“You can’t say sorry to me because all of this would feel real,” you ramble, shaking your head vehemently. “You should not say sorry to me because that would mean that I’m hurt because I love you.”

Jungkook looks at you innocently with his eyes wide and lips parted, blissfully unaware of the name to the sensation that keeps tugging at his chest to the point that it feels like it would burst open, yet above all else, he still dives in head-first.

“Can you not love me, princess?” he tilts his head. “Is it not allowed?”

( ♡ ) 

Yoongi’s words lie heavily on both you and Jungkook.

The prince’s sentiment stays on your chest like a paperweight that only grows heavier the more that you try to push it off. You know Yoongi means well, no matter how his words come across otherwise, but the longer that you think about his own suggestion regarding his brother, the more you feel unsure.

Jungkook’s made complete sense of his brother’s words on the other hand, and instead of being filled with a type of rage that only bubbles up when being looked down on, oddly enough, he comes to the truth quite easily.

He knows the truth that he’s weak despite painting himself the opposite, and he feels it the most now that you’re the one who’s distancing yourself from him. Jungkook feels like swallowing the sun and chasing it down with water when you respond to princess, even if it’s jokingly uttered by his brothers and not said sincerely by him alone.

He knows the truth that he’s the weak one in the family, if not the weakest, whenever he stands next to them. Jungkook may be the poster prince for the citizens but he knows the most out of everyone that he’s not as vital to the kingdom as the others are. He may get an assigned seat at the actual, solid dining table, but he knows that he’s not at the head of it.

He knows he’s weak, with and for you, and that’s never bothered him until it actually did.

Jungkook’s eyesight isn’t as good as yours.

Unlike you, he’s restrained by the entirety of his Twellian blood from immediately focusing his gaze on anything. There’s a lag that registers whenever he fixes his sight on anything, just like everyone else but you, and that hadn’t been a bother to Jungkook the whole time.

He had falsely assumed that since you’re the only one who’s different here, the only exception in the planet by being impure and partially human, you’d be the one who’ll have a hard time adjusting your daily life to his — not the other way around.

Jungkook, who had not once ever felt insecurity before, suddenly feels inferior. He feels like dirt and yet he’s angry, not because of the fact that he comes second to your abilities, but because he can’t do shit when it comes to you.

The prince’s eyesight isn’t good enough to notice the tiny little expressions that litter your face whenever something remotely intriguing happens to you. His hearing isn’t on par with yours because he can’t register the laugh in your voice as quickly as you could recognize his. He’s not on the same level as you and it’s only now that it bothers him—

The realization creeps into Jungkook, slowly yet unsettlingly, when he sees the cut on your cheek; the liquor of inferiority, chased down by Jungkook’s own rage, only hits him the moment he sees that a nasty bruise is blossoming by the corner of your eye.

Jungkook grips your jaw lightly out of nowhere, making you look up at him unexpectedly when you had been only preoccupied with fixing him his drink. The prince, no matter the unmistakeable rage that’s brewing in red, is the softest he’s ever been when it comes to addressing you.

“Who hurt you?” 

He has all his attention on you and it’s almost sickening with the way he doesn’t want to break off. Jungkook’s hand is still on your jaw and his eyes are still fixed on yours and yet his mind, whatever remains rational of it and not just vengeful, is going a million miles per hour.

“Get your hands off me,” you spit, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence and the vitriol that spills out of him so clearly, the air around both of you shifts.

“I asked you a question,”Jungkook repeats, putting is hand on your wrist firmly instead. He makes the grave mistake of looking down, though, because as soon as he realizes that there’s blood caked underneath your nails and that your knuckles are stained with your own blood, Jungkook can no longer hold himself back. “Who. Hurt. You.”

Jungkook’s reflexes are slow, but the moment your bottom lip trembles in vulnerability and pure bitterness, he feels as if time has caught on to the point that it’s only your anguish that sharpens his senses.

His feelings, even.

“If I tell you, would it make a difference? If I’m considered weak, Jungkook, then that means you’re even weaker,” you scoff, eyes trained on the ground with your head low so you could muffle the tremble in your voice; not that it would make your prince any less attuned to you.

Jungkook’s eyes remain narrowed at you, breathing heavily as you only state the facts not to insult him, but to remind the both of you of your place — or whatever is left clear of it because Jungkook can’t even think straight the longer that he looks at you hurting.

“What, prince? What are you gonna do about it?” you spit as the last resort, standing up abruptly to storm off and make an escape for it just once so you’ll be free of the burden of being yourself in Jungkook’s existence, yet he doesn’t let you.

The grip that the prince has on your arm is unstable yet unyielding at the same time, as if it’s taking everything in Jungkook to remain standing despite wanting to hunch over by the unexplainable tremor that roots from his chest.

(It is taking everything in him.)

“Burn,” he utters. “I’ll burn everything.”

“You’re-…”

“Weaker than you? I know that,” Jungkook interrupts, his lips set in a straight line as he lets himself be swept by the current that is you. “All the more reason to do everything for you then.”

The young prince doesn’t even break his gaze from you once, even if his pupils are trembling and his teeth are chattering out of the sheer trepidation that comes with being scared for someone else who carries your heart with them.

He doesn’t break his gaze from you, even for the briefest second, as he fishes out his (your) handkerchief from his pocket that’s there, not because it just happens to be, but because it’s allotted for you.

To love and to be loved is to feel the sun from both sides, and Jungkook no longer wants the star to swallow him whole because he doesn’t want you to be burned.

Jungkook wants to love you all the way.

[ubeb0nes]

hiiii could you also do pitfighter reader with sevika next?? i loveee your writing!

HECK YEA, i was lowkey pulling for this one to win on the poll anyway (i'm definitely invested in bar owner!reader now that i've written for her, though!)

Silco goes through henchmen like water through a grater. And of course- like everything else- it falls on Sevika to keep his forces topped up.

She gets a lot of the dumb bruiser types from the Pit Ring. Easy to come by and even easier to hire once you wave just a little bit of money and status in their faces.

The higher in the rankings you are though, the less likely you are to take Silco's second's deals. Life as a Pit fighter is never easy, but the top percent definitely make more than they would as lackeys.

You were one such. Sevika had seen you a few times in the ring when she'd come down to pick up new blood.

You swung like somebody had taught you with intention. There was the charming roughness of Zaun ingrained in your style, but you had clear skill. Every time Sevika came back, your name was a little higher in the rankings.

She always got good seats due to her social standing. Close enough to see the look in your eyes. Controlled, if a bit empty.

You'd made eye contact with her once, right after toppling the second-ranked fighter. You'd given her a once-over that nearly offended her, like you wanted to get in the ring with her. Sevika scoffed at the very notion.

She couldn't lie though, even she felt the buzz of excitement permeating the crowd leading up to your face-off for the champion seat. This time, she was just here to watch.

It was the first time she'd seen you struggle. First time anyone had. She could tell from the moment you walked into the Pit, something was wrong.

The champion is killing you. Literally. It stirs something in Sevika as she watches him pin your head to the gritty ground with one hand, and beat on your skull with the other.

She jumps in before she even realizes what she's doing. What the hell was she doing?

The whole arena held its breath as someone who wasn't nameless, wasn't just some violent nobody presented themself.

Sevika knew what it looked like. She knew that word would get back to Silco and he'd ask her what the hell she was doing in the very center of a place like the Pit. But all she could do was spit on the ground, and square herself to the champion as if to say "Come try it with me, I dare you."

And he was about to, until he saw the whirring glow of her metal arm beneath her cape. The champ shrugged her off, taking his own leave while Sevika slung one of your arms over her shoulder.

It's not like he had anything to gain from fighting her. You were the only one he needed to beat.

"Why the hell did you do that?" You muttered out of a broken jaw.

"Yeah, it was no problem, don't mention it."

She starts to help you towards the locker room, until you tell her to take you to your apartment since it's only a little walk away.

It was definitely nicer than a lot of other units in Zaun. It looked untouched though, like you barely spent any time in there. She… lets you kinda crumple on the couch, before rummaging a bottle of alcohol from your pantry and removing a vial of Shimmer from her holster belt.

"Get that shit the fuck away from me."

"You done it in the past?"

"Hell no!"

"It's not gonna trap you after one dose. Trust me, you need it. You look like shit."

You give her some more shit, but eventually take the vial and the shot of vodka. Something about her is undeniably warm. Honest. You had no reason to give your trust out freely, but she seemed to have gained it without your knowing consent.

A part of your heart clung to it, the authenticity and honor she possessed that hadn't existed in so much as a whisper in the Pits.

Even as your entire nervous system seized the moment the Shimmer touched your throat, you were wholly conscious of her hand gripping the back of your neck with gentle, grounding firmness.

Her thumb subconsciously massaged into your trap muscle, and you heard her smoky voice urging you to "breathe, it'll be over soon". When had someone last touched you without the intention to hurt?

Still, after the Shimmer had passed through and you were feeling much better, you gave her a similar once-over to the one you once had before.

"Bet I could beat your ass."

"And I bet you'd die. Actually, this time." Yeah, that shut you up.

"So… what do I owe you for this?"

"Hm?"

"I still get a share even though I lost. C'mon, what percent's your cut?"

"I don't need your prize money. Or consolation, I guess."

"Rub it in, why don't you?"

She's ignoring you now though, electing to peruse the not so short row of books on your wall. "A well-read Pit fighter, huh? Well, you're number one in something in the Pits."

"Okay, what the hell do you want? Why'd you step in to help me?"

Her silence says she doesn't know, but you don't know that. You just think she's being an ass. Before you can tell her such though, she speaks up. "You know who I am, right?"

"Everybody in the Pit knows who you are. I saw the champ almost shit his pants."

"Then you know why I come to the Pits at all?"

"To play superhero, apparently."

"No. To recruit."

[dekusleftsock]

I think about this sometimes but I personally love that Horikoshi took the Yandere trope, split it in two, and gave one half to Izuku and Himiko.

Like it’s so fascinating how you can just SEE how purposeful Himiko was as a character in hindsight standing next to him.

Himiko is a really interesting subversion of her trope for two reasons:

She hurts people because she loves them, not for isolation or destruction of the competition (gore/blood is love to her, not necessarily a means to love someone)

She’s not possessive. Like at all.

I’ve seen that hc a few times and it always bothers me. Ochako is for sure a possessive character (we saw that with Hatsume around Izuku way back at the sports festival arc), but Himiko? Really?

You mean the girl who had a crush on a boy AND the girl who also had a crush on the same boy? Her?

You mean the girl who doesn’t hurt people who love who she loves, rather actively encouraging it in the first place? That one? Really?

Like it’s such an integral part to her subversion too. It’s what makes her such a weird and fascinating character. Possessiveness is supposed to be whats ugly about love itself, yet her love remains ugly without it. She is ugly because the fundamental ways in which she sees and feels about the world are considered “wrong”, “dangerous”, and “deviant”.

But Izuku… ohhhh Izuku…

He holds this trait like a badge melted to his skin. My man cannot escape these allegations. It’s to the point where it’s honestly a fundamental to his narrative. Izuku does not act nor feel the same without it.

Izuku holds a cutesy nickname that literally every other childhood friend of Katsuki’s has long left behind, saying his real name instead (this is honestly why I’m also uninterested in a scene where Izuku calls him “Katsuki” instead of “Kacchan”, Katsuki doesn’t represent the same things the name Izuku does, imo at least), izuku “give him back to me” midoriya, holds his dead body to his chest on a cover, freaked out on someone either hurting/offending Kacchan.. 3 times(?), keeping big boy ofa secrets…. The list goes on.

So it’s this main reason that I think their characters are just so. Fucking. Intertwined. I’m glad this has become a more common interpretation because there’s just so much that aligns between them.

Both of them call their “special people” with -chan endings, both by their first names, both deemed deviants/irrelevant by society. It’s no wonder Ochako fell in love with Izuku, just like she did toga, they’re fucking freaks. They’re interesting. They’re weird. They’re overly friendly and socially inept and a little beaten down by the world yet have too much passion to stay on the ground. They’re envious of the ones they love (Ochako of her freedom to be a normal girl, Katsuki for his raw power and harnessed skill), and I guess I just wanted to make this post because I adore how it’s all done.

I LOVE how the yandere trope is used as societal commentary here. Not necessarily as a way to make the main love interest jealous and feel she must protect the main character, nor for some kinky reason surrounding her character, but because the trope is built off of real, ugly feelings that can and do happen. That love can and is considered truly beautiful in all its forms, especially those of queer people.

So I especially love it because it isn’t just limited to Himiko, but Izuku as well. He may never hurt the ones he loves, but he would hurt for them.

A perfect narrative foil on queer and deviant forms of love. Big fan Horikoshi.

[aurorawritestoescape]

THE OTHER BROTHER

Johnny Miller (Joel’s twin) x f!reader | Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re in love with your neighbor Joel but he doesn’t notice you. After another failure to get his attention, someone unexpected offers their help - Joel’s twin brother, Johnny.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, angst, twin au, age gap (Joel and Johnny are in their 30s, reader is in her early 20s), pining, unrequited love, heartbreak, hurt/comfort/hurt/comfort?, virginity loss, insecure reader, soft Johnny, praise kink, size kink, f!oral, breast play, unprotected piv (wrap it up), belly bulge, aftercare, kinda hopeful ending. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description but she wears a dress.

Word count: 7,6 k

A/n: Kate, are Joel and Tommy not enough for you?! Nope, I need one more Miller bro!! I was inspired by Aly’s/ @iamasaddie post and Mina’s / @evolnoomym comment💕💕 Idk whose edit it is, lmk if you do, so I could send my kudos. That edit did something to me. Hope y’all will like the story!💖 Kisses to @milla-frenchy for betaing💋 Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST

You walked into Joel’s backyard with hope, carrying you on its wings, and excitement, twisting your stomach. A cute summer dress, open sandals, accessories— everything had been planned out and thought over lots of times beforehand. It was your chance to get him to notice you, to finally see you as a woman and not only as his neighbors’ daughter.

You had attended Joel’s barbecues every summer since a few years back when your family had moved on that street. Almost instantly you had fallen in love with your middle aged neighbor Joel. He was handsome, funny, polite, very charming and on top of everything a single parent. Joel seemed to be a wonderful father. You weren’t friends with Sarah, but it wasn’t hard to notice the way they connected. They had that heartwarming father-daughter bond that you and your dad for some reason had never had.

You couldn’t think of anyone else but him. You had thought that leaving for college might have helped but it hadn’t. No one could compare to the perfect Joel Miller. Unfortunately you were just a girl for him. He was always polite and warm but his gaze would always slide over you. You had been crying and yearning for his love for years but it had felt as unreachable as the stars over your head. Unattainable dream.

Thinking that you had nothing to lose, you decided to try your luck once more. You had come back home for a summer break, and after a long time away from your parents you felt mature and confident enough to make Joel notice you. So you stepped into his backyard with a set goal in your mind—to win Joel Miller’s heart.

You found your parents among the other guests and joined them, before searching the backyard for a pair of beautiful brown eyes. Of course Joel was handling the grill. Butterflies in your stomach swirled in excitement, your heartbeat increased but the initial joy of seeing the man of your dreams evaporated instantly, when you noticed that he wasn't alone. His strong arm was wrapped around a waist of a beautiful woman. She was laughing and talking to him, and when Joel leaned down to gently kiss her lips, your heart shattered into a million pieces.

"What's wrong, honey?"

You tried to control your emotions when you heard your mom's voice but it was next to impossible. Upcoming tears squeezed your throat, your lower lip began trembling.

You shook your head and hastily turned away from the sight that set your butterflies on fire - the love of your life was kissing another woman.

“I’m ok,” you lied. “just something in my eye.”

You tried to cover your tears with your hand, and your mom stepped up closer to you, about to offer help but suddenly you heard a deep voice to your right.

“Hey. Don’t think we’ve met.”

Wetness was coating your eyes, distorting your sight, and you barely glanced at the man, who came up to your parents and you, and mumbled,

“Excuse me... I need…need to use the bathroom.”

You rushed away, your parents calling after you but you didn’t stop. You were full on crying.

You ran through Joel’s kitchen and hall and rushed to your house.

You were walking up the stairs of the porch when you heard someone shout behind you,

“Hey, wait!”

You turned around, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, and what you saw made your jaw drop. Or rather who you saw.

It was Joel. At least you thought so at first. The man looked exactly like your crush but he was dressed differently— Joel whom you had seen five minutes ago was wearing a dark tee while his doppelganger had a plaid green shirt on with a white tee underneath. But the most striking difference was his hair- he had a short buzz cut contrary to Joel’s dark curls. His hair was lighter than his twin’s, just like his eyes.

The stranger came up to you slowly, his expression full of concern and sympathy. You were so flabbergasted that you forgot to hide your reddened eyes and wet face and were staring at the man with your mouth agape.

“I’m Johnny. Joel’s brother. I wanted to make sure ya fine.”

You continued staring at the man, completely lost for words and he talked again,

“I’m his twin brother,” he added, noticing your surprise. “I guess he doesn’t talk much about me, huh?” The stranger smiled as you shook your head.

“Wanna sit down?”

He motioned to the porch bench and you should have probably said ‘no’ and gone to your room to cry your eyes out but a few last minutes were so surreal and emotional that you couldn’t think straight anymore. You nodded. The man followed you there, took a seat at a respectable distance from you, his body turned to you slightly. You were staring at your hands, not sure what to talk about with your new acquaintance.

For a few moments you two were sitting in silence until you remembered the way Joel had been looking at the woman and a pathetic sob crawled up your throat.

“I don’t like her either,” Johnny said and your teary eyes snapped up at him.

“Hm?”

“His new girl. Too bossy. I’m not a fan.”

“I -I don’t… ’don’t like her’. I don’t know her at all,” you croaked.

“Yeah, but you like him, right?”

Your stomach dropped and you faked an awkward laugh, shaking your head.

“No, no, I don’t.”

“Quit lyin’, girl. I’m not dumb. I saw you waltz in there with a happy smile and then when you saw them...Damn, poor thing. Unless you’re in love with her but—,” he chuckled and you hastily shook your head again, waving your hands in protest.

“I don’t love him, oh my god!”

“Ok, ok. Keep denyin’ it. You can watch him get married and have a bunch of kids then.”

When you heard his words your heart froze and, not being able to hide your feelings, you broke into tears, covering your face with your hands.

“Fuck.” The man immediately scooted closer to you and placed his arm around your shoulders.

“’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ve been harsh. Maybe I’m a fool and you just had a bad day, that’s all.”

“No, no, you’re right. I do! I do love him,” you confessed in between sobs.

For a few moments you were crying and Johnny was rubbing your arm with his big hand until he spoke softly,

“You seem like a nice girl. Beautiful, sweet. Have you tried makin‘ him interested?”

You raised your teary eyes at the man and for some weird reason you admitted to him that you had fallen in love with Joel a long time ago but he had never noticed you.

“My brother sounds like an idiot. Look at you. You’re hot, baby.”

You smiled and dropped your eyes.

“And your smile is fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You felt warmth spread in your belly when the man put his finger under your chin and tilted your head up to face him.

You looked at him attentively, taking in every feature of his familiar yet novice face, and noticed that he was as handsome as Joel. His skin was more tan and his eyes were lighter, a mixture of hazel and green, and your heart fluttered at his beauty.

“Do you wanna get ‘im?”

Now it was your turn to laugh.

“Get him?”

“Yeah. First you need to make him notice you.”

“But he has a girlfriend,” you mumbled with defeat ringing in your words.

“So? She ain’t his wife. He can dump her whenever.”

You were quiet.

“Listen. I can get you into this house. Into his life. He’ll see you often and I bet he’ll notice the fuck out of such a hottie.”

You felt your cheeks heat up when you glanced at him and asked,

“How would you do that?”

The man winked at you with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Let’s pretend that you and I are going out.”

You giggled, thinking it was a joke, but Johnny kept talking and you realized that he was absolutely serious.

“I’m stayin’ with him right now. We’ll spend a lot of time in his house. He’ll notice you and then fall in love with you in no time.”

“I’m not sure he will. I’m too shy,” you admitted.

“He loves shy girls. And even if you ain’t very talkative. Damn, look at you. You’re hot. And I’ll wingman the fuck out of you.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Brothers share everything. Like, “Bro, yesterday she rocked my world. Her mouth’s heaven. And then she rode me! Damn, she’s the best I ever had. See?”

You were blinking at him with an open mouth and burning up cheeks. When you heard his filthy words you couldn’t help but gush into your panties. Johnny didn’t seem to hold back.

“He’ll be hard over you immediately.”

You furrowed your brows and asked,

“But isn’t there a bro code or something? that you can’t date your brothers’ ex girlfriends?”

“Nah, we don’t follow that.” Johnny waved away your concerns with his big hand. “We dated the same girls all the time in school. What’s good for me’s good for him, right?”

You didn’t know what to think. Johnny's idea was crazy but all of his arguments made a lot of sense. And you were desperate.

“Ok. We can try I guess,” you said, nervously fumbling with the hem of your dress.

“Fuck yeah we can!”

He gave you a charming smile and you smiled back, feeling a little better.

“But my parents can’t know, ok? I’ll tell them I’m with friends.”

“No problem. It’s fake anyway so no reason to make ‘em worry. But—,” he paused, his expression turning serious, — If we want it to work, we need to spend time together beforehand. It’ll help you to get comfortable around me, yeah? to make it believable.”

You nodded, trying to understand what he meant by ‘spend time’.

“Wanna do it now? Let’s hang out in your room. For some time.”

“Aren’t they gonna look for you?” You asked, glancing back at Joel’s house.

“I’m a big boy, baby, I don’t need to tell anyone where I’m goin’.” Johnny replied with a wink.

“Oh yeah, right.”

You got up and headed to the door. Your accomplice followed you, and when you were walking upstairs, you turned to him.

“Johnny, if my parents come early, they can’t see you ok?”

“No problem, I’ll hide in a closet,” he chuckled and gave you another wink.

When you entered your bedroom, Johnny looked around and took his flannel off. He was standing in the middle of your room, white tee stretched over his broad chest, his muscles bulging out of the short sleeves. He rolled them up, exposing more of his arms, and you swallowed loudly. He was bigger than Joel and in your small room he looked so huge and tall, that you felt your core burn.

“Cosy,” Johnny said, walking to your bed and plopped on it unceremoniously. He leaned his back against the headboard, his booted feet hanging off the edge. You were staring at him awkwardly, not knowing if you should sit next to him. Getting on the bed with practically a stranger was not something you could do easily.

So you sat down on a chair by your desk.

"Nah-uh. Get over ‘ere, bunny." He shook his head and patted the space next to him on the bed.

"Ehm... I don't know."

"Jesus, I don't bite. You need to get used to bein’ close to me. Joel isn't stupid. He'll sense that something's fishy if you're skittish like that."

You couldn't deny that he was right. So you came up to the other side of the bed and settled next to him.

"Wanna tell me a bit about yourself, beautiful?" he asked, flashing you a charming smile.

You felt your cheeks burn but after a moment of hesitation, you began telling him about your hobbies, your friends and your plans after graduation. He didn't interrupt you. He asked a few questions but mostly he was just nodding, listening to you attentively. A few times his gaze slid down to your lips, your cleavage, your naked legs, crossed at the ankles.

His eyes were leaving a pleasant heat in their wake until your whole body lit up and a constant warmth settled between your legs. Your pussy was tingling only from you being next to your new acquaintance, hearing his scent, masculine and enticing, seeing him smile at your words. His hazel eyes were getting darker the longer you talked, the more he looked at you.

“What about you, Johnny? What do you do?” You asked, wishing to learn more about the man you were about to fake date.

He averted his eyes and rubbed his scruffy cheek.

”It’s complicated, baby. I’d tell you if you were my girlfriend. For real I mean. But —.” He looked at you with an apologetic smile.

“Oh,” is all you could say in return, blinking at him.

“I can tell you that I travel a lot. ‘s prolly why we’ve never met. I can’t often visit Joel and Sarah.”

It got silent in the room for a moment except for the sound of birds’ chirping, coming through an open window.

“Do you wanna watch something?“ you asked, suddenly feeling awkward.

“Yeah, ‘k.” Johnny took his boots off and placed his feet on the bed. You marveled at how quickly he seemed to get comfortable but decided that he was just that easy-going.

You took your laptop and asked what he wanted to watch.

“Whatever you want, beautiful.”

You smiled at the compliment and your chest fluttered.

”We can watch The Office. It always relaxes me.”

“Yeah, I really wanna see you relaxed, bunny,” he smirked and you stuck your tongue out at him.

A few minutes later you were on the bed, shoulder to shoulder, watching a random episode of the Office that you put on.

Soon Johnny slid down the bedspread and placed his head on your pillow.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, pulling you down with him.

You didn’t know how and why you let him but soon his hand was wrapped around your shoulder and your head was resting on his broad chest.

He was warm and big and you felt your panties dampen more.

“I like that guy,” he commented after some time of watching.

“Ryan? He’s kind of a douche,” you giggled.

“Really?” Johnny hummed.

You continued watching the show, sometimes chuckling from time to time. Once Johnny absentmindedly bucked his hips up and your gaze involuntarily landed on a prominent bulge in his jeans. And then a few times on purpose.

Getting too turned on, you closed your eyes, trying to calm down the fire in your core. Unfortunately it got worse as without your eyesight your whole being concentrated on the strong arm resting heavily on you, on Johnny's scent, his steady, deep breathing.

“Baby?”

Johnny’s voice took you out of your horny trance and you hummed feeling your cheeks burn.

“Can you tell me something?”

“Yes?”

He sat up and you did the same, looking at him with confusion, trying to hide your arousal.

“Can you close your eyes and tell me if my voice is similar to Joel’s? People always answer differently. I wanna know what you think.”

You raised your brows.

“I can tell you right now. It’s similar. Very.”

“No, close your eyes, listen to it.”

You shrugged your shoulders and did what he asked, a little smile dancing on your lips.

“Hey, baby. You're very beautiful.” You smiled wider when you heard his gruff voice, squealing inside at the compliment.

”Thank you, Joel,” you laughed and added, “You sound just like him.” You opened your eyes but Johnny shook his head, motioning for you to shut them again. You did and heard the man sigh deeply.

“Ya know. I’ve been such a fool. I didn’t notice you before but now I see. How gorgeous you are. Crazy hot.”

Your smile vanished as you were listening to him, eyes closed, chewing on your lip. You had dreamed of hearing those words for such a long time that your heart could burst out of your chest at the moment.

“You have a girlfriend, Joel,” you whispered, playing along.

”She’s a mistake. Wish you could forgive me for not tellin’ you all this sooner… Wish I could rip this pretty dress off you and make you scream my name right now.”

Your breath hitched and a new surge of wetness made you squirm in your place.

“Wish I could kiss you right now.”

You instinctively wetted your lips, hearing his words, and the next second Johnny pressed his mouth to yours. You tensed up at first but in a second your body melted at the soft touch. Not opening your eyes, you tilted your head slightly to the side and parted your lips, inviting him in. Immediately Johnny’s tongue slipped inside and brushed yours, gently at first but then more assertively. He was swallowing your pleasured whimpers again and again as you were making out.

”Johnny, I can’t,” you murmured, pulling away and breaking the kiss.

You glanced at him and his expression took your breath away. He looked like he was ready to pounce on you any second. His eyes were burning with desire, lips glistened with your saliva and his broad chest was heaving, dangerously close to ripping his tee.

He visibly tried to calm himself down— he took a deep breath and then placed your hand between his.

“Yeah, fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.” His expression softened as his eyes were locked with yours.

“No, don’t be. It was nice but … but…”

You struggled to continue, the words got stuck in your throat.

Johnny’s eyes were darting between yours, as he was patiently waiting for you to continue.

Then you whispered, your voice barely audible, gaze downcast, “I’m a virgin.”

You expected any reaction but not the one he gave you.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes snapped up at him and tears immediately welled up in your eyes. Johnny looked straight up disappointed. He pulled away from you and your sob broke the icy silence in the room. You were always terrified to admit it to people, especially to men, and at that moment your worst nightmare was coming true.

“‘s bad,” Johnny mumbled, still not looking at you. “Shit.”

You were hurt but your pain quickly turned into anger.

“Please leave!”

As if finally having noticed your distress, Johnny turned to you, shaking his head.

“Oh fuck, no, no, I don’t mind. Shit. I think— it’s great—for whatever reason you—no. It’s Joel, baby.”

“What? What about Joel?” you asked, feeling a little better, when he took your hands in his and answered,

”He’s not a fan of virgins. Never was. He told me many times he didn’t want the responsibility of bein’ someone’s first.”

“Why?” You felt your heart shuttering again.

“Don’t know,” Johnny shrugged, ”I guess he prefers someone more experienced. Once he broke up with a girl when he found out she was a virgin.”

Now it was your turn to curse.

“Fuck.” You probably looked absolutely defeated and Johnny rapidly wrapped his arm around you to pull you to his torso.

You started silently crying on his shoulder, having realized that Joel would never love you, would never even give you a chance.

Johnny was rubbing your arm with his big warm hand while you were soaking his white tee with tears, until he said,

“You know, it’s not a big deal.”

You sniffed and sat up straight.

“What do you mean not a big deal?” your voice was shaky and small. “You’ve just said he hates virgins.”

Johnny lifted his hand to wipe your wet face with his thick fingers.

“Kinda easy to lose it, beautiful. Your v card.”

“No, it’s not. I wanted Joel to— to do it. I don’t want anyone else.”

You were pouting your lips, eyes reddened and teary staring at the man sitting close to you. In your blurry vision he looked even more like Joel.

”I can help you, bunny,” Johnny offered with a lopsided smile. He tilted his head to the side and waited for your reaction.

You swallowed loudly when you heard him and turned away. You couldn’t deny that Johnny was hot, your soaked panties were a good evidence of your desire for him but how could you do it with a man you had just met. Who wasn’t Joel.

Joel who had a girlfriend.

Joel who didn’t want to deal with virgins.

Joel who never noticed you.

You looked back at the twin brother of the man you loved and asked,

“Would you really do it for me?”

Johnny cleared his throat.

“Ehm… yeah, why wouldn’t I? You’re hot,” he said it so matter of fact-ly that it sounded sincere and you believed that he really wanted to help.

“Ok, good,” you said, with an air of uncertainty. “We can try but maybe not today, ok? We’ve just met,” you mumbled, fumbling with your fingers.

“Yeah. ‘Course,” Johnny smirked and then quickly added, “Did you like it when I kissed you?”

Not looking at the man you nodded.

“Want me to do it again?”

His question made your heart skip a beat. You had felt amazing when he had kissed you, your body reacted to him in a wonderful way and, after glancing up at his plush lips, you nodded the second time.

Johnny gently cupped your cheek and leaned towards you. His lips began caressing yours, your tongues tangled and, not breaking the kiss, you scooted closer to him on the bed. He read your intentions and pulled you into his big strong arms. His hand snaked up to the back of your head, the other was pressed to your lower back, keeping you close, as you were tasting him, feeling his heart thump against your chest. You were floating.

Soon his mouth slithered to your jaw and he nibbled on your skin there while his hands began roaming your body, gliding over your back, your arms until he squeezed your ass with his palms and you moaned into his mouth.

“Oh, baby, ya fuckin’ hot,” he groaned and you felt his lips suck a hickey into your neck while his hand snaked under your skirt. He engulfed your whole asscheek with his palm and your thin lacy panties easily let the heat of his skin seep through. You whimpered when the pads of his fingers glided down to your clothed pussy. Just one touch was enough for your brain to panic and you pulled away from him.

“Sorry, Johnny, it’s too much.”

You wanted to get off the bed, the whirlwind of emotions overwhelming you, but he grabbed you by the hand.

“Don’t leave. Please. Sorry, bunny. I went in too fast.“

You sat down on your heels, catching your breath and trying to calm down your foggy mind and burning up body.

“Let’s cuddle. C’mon. Jus’ wanna hold you.”

He returned your laptop to your desk and lay down on the bed that now seemed too small for his huge body. It made the whole situation even hotter.

A fear of the unknown and an immense desire were fighting in your heart, and you let the latter win, assuring yourself that you were just going to get used to him hugging you, so you could get close to Joel later.

That’s why you let him wrap his strong arms around you, let his face be inches from yours, let his hot breath fan your lips, let his scent intoxicate you. You were lying in his embrace for just a few moments before his lips found yours, and you didn’t fight it anymore, you welcomed their warmth.

He was more careful that time, slowly pulling you close to his body, but his hands didn’t wander. What was making you melt was his quiet words, seeping into your ears between kisses, barely audible through your soft whimpers, smacking of the lips and his breathing.

“Ya taste like honey—beautiful girl—Joel’s fuckin’ lucky—so pretty—could eat you whole, baby.”

Contrary to him, you were getting bolder and sent your hands roam his broad back, squeeze his masculine arms, glide over the slopes of his shoulders and then run through his short hair that pleasantly tickled your palms.

It was a matter of time before he slowly pushed you on your back and began kissing your neck. You tilted your head back into the pillow, giving him more access and he happily growled against your heated skin.

“Good girl,” you heard his praise and the ache of your pussy made you press your thighs together.

“Oh, Joe…Johnny,” you started and then hastily corrected yourself.

Johnny stopped nibbling on your collarbone and your heart froze, expecting him to get angry, but the man smiled at you.

“You can call me Joel, beautiful… to practice, yeah? Soon he’s gonna be the one kissin’ you.”

The suggestion sounded insane but in your aroused, overwhelmed with feelings state you let yourself imagine the man you loved caressing you with his lips. You fluttered your eyes shut and it was so easy to fantasize about Joel’s hand holding your hip and pressing you into the mattress, Joel’s lips peppering kisses along your neck and then going down, reaching the plush of your cleavage. Drowning in your fantasy you missed the moment Johnny’s chin pushed your neckline down, exposing more of your breasts. You rubbed your thighs against each other, chasing pressure on your tingling pussy, as his palm started kneading your tit over the fabric.

“Yeah, Joel,” you breathed out and didn’t stop yourself that time, fully succumbing to the want of your heart and body.

Your mind turned off completely, you were so gone in pleasure, that when you finally opened your eyes, to your surprise you saw Johnny’s hot tongue swirl around your pebbled nipple. A loud moan flew out of your parted lips as your hazy gaze took in the sight of your dress and bra pulled down and the man caressing your nipples, alternating between sucking and licking them, while your naked chest was heaving under his ministrations.

With his mouth almost engulfing your whole breast, Johnny glanced up at you and his blown out lustful eyes sent another bolt of arousal through your core.

“Johnny, please,” was all you could muster. He hummed into your tit before parting from it and searching for your glossy eyes.

“Do you like it when I do this?” He asked, his breath hitting your saliva coated skin, your nipples as hard as diamonds now. You mumbled a weak ’yeah’..

“Good. And have you ever had your pussy kissed, beautiful?”

You bit your lip, almost reaching your high just from hearing the question.

“No,” you whispered back and Johnny shot you a mysterious smile.

“Can I be the first, baby?”

“I— I don’t know,” you said hesitantly.

“C’mon, bunny. I wanna make you feel good. Wanna feel real good?”

The act seemed to you so intimate and vulnerable, just an idea of it made you anxious.

“Lil scared bunny,” he smiled and then wrapped his fingers around your naked breast, holding it in his hand. “Look.”

A second later his lips brushed your nipple again, his dark eyes locked with yours.

“Imagine the nipple is your little clit. I’ll jus’ lick it like that.”

His tongue stroked it, covering the sensitive bud in his saliva.

“Then I’ll suck on it like this.”

Johnny took it into his mouth and applied gentle suction to it.

“I’ll make you come so hard like that. It’s just another type of kissing, baby.”

You’ve never been turned on more than at that moment so after a few moments of consideration you shoved your fears away and whimpered,

“Ok.”

“Good girl.”

You hole clenched when you heard his praise. Johnny pulled the hem of his tee up and took it off.

Your breath hitched when you saw his strong chest and soft belly with a happy trail that led under his jeans. Johnny casually glided his hand over his strong torso and you bit your lip, not letting out another needy whimper.

“‘s getting too hot,” he mumbled and lay down between your thighs. His legs were hanging off the bed and you marveled at the muscles, flexing in his back and shoulders. You wondered if Joel’s body was as gorgeous as his twin brother’s. Of course it was, you thought.

The dress was still covering you and after a nod from you, Johnny lifted your skirt. Your hips flew up as if by themselves when he started sliding your panties off.

”Fuck, baby, this is the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen,” his soft voice praised you as you were lying in front of him, almost naked and trembling with nerves.

“Thank you,” you whispered back.

“Can’t wait to taste you.”

He spread your folds with his index finger and a thumb while his shoulders were keeping your thighs wider apart. Your pussy opened up to him like an offering.

“Pretty flower,” he commented and immediately did what he’d promised.

He licked your hardened clit, drawing a pathetic moan from you, and then lapped at it a few times. The sensations you were feeling were incomparable to anything you’d ever experienced. Your hand darted to your naked breasts and you began twitching your nipples.

“Fuck, yeah,” he mumbled against your sex and the vibrations sent shivers through your body.

Johnny smiled, having noticed your reaction, and began sucking on your bud, massaging it between his lips.

“Ahhh—oh my god—oh yeah,” was all you could mutter. When you were on the brink of ecstasy, his tongue slid down and snuck into your virginal hole. He began fucking you with it, spreading your walls with his flattened tongue and your needy screams, moans and whimpers filled the bedroom. You were sure that if someone was passing by your house, they’d hear the sounds of your pleasure but your mind was switched off, only the bliss between your legs and the man giving it to you mattered at that moment.

You tried to grab his hair but it was too short to hold on to so your palm pressed onto the back of his head as you were greedily holding Johnny's mouth against your pussy.

“Fuckin’ delicious. Can’t believe I’m first.”

With your glossed over gaze you watched him return his tongue to your throbbing clit and stroke it a few times, until your eyes rolled back and a hard orgasm exploded like fireworks inside your core, sending hot waves of euphoria through your body.

Johnny didn’t stop lapping at you until you tried to close your legs, the ache of overstimulation burning you.

He sat up and wiped his wet chin with the back of his hand, the other hand splayed over your thigh, gently rubbing it.

“Look at you, beautiful. Came hard for me, huh? Jus’ like I promised.”

He smiled at you, visibly pleased with your almost drunk post-orgasmic state. Your tits were out and slightly pushed up by the neckline, nipples puffy from his and your caress, your summer dress bunched up around your waist, your glistening pussy fully on display.

While your eyes were admiring the beauty of his features, so similar to Joel’s, you failed to notice his hands unzipping his jeans and pulling them down.

Your gaze darted to the lower part of his body when you spotted a movement there— his hard cock bobbing over your naked cunt.

It was long, quite thick, with a fat tip that was oozing clear precum. He stroked the shaft a couple of times with his big hand and grunted, “ya wanna make me feel good too, baby?”

As if by an instinct your thighs opened up wider, inviting him inside you, your mind clouded by lust.

“Yes, Johnny.”

“Nah, baby, call me Joel,” he gruffed as he bent down, planted his hands on the bed, next to your shoulders and added, ”I know you wanna. And I ain’t against role playing.”

“Really?”

“Sure, bunny.”

It was wrong. And so hot at the same time. You giggled, sound strained by the nerves, twisting your stomach. He was big and you had never imagined your first time happening with a man you’d just met. Yet your pussy was screaming to be pierced with a cock. His cock. You’d never been turned on that much in your life and you gave in to the temptation without a second thought.

His lips found yours at the same time his tip nudged your hole, and when his tongue slipped into your mouth, the head of his cock pushed assertively into you.

He swallowed your whine and paused, hovering over your face, your eyes locked.

“Shit, ya tight. But we can do it, yeah, bunny?”

”It hurts, Johnny.”

“Shhh, not Johnny, remember? C’mon, it’ll help you relax.”

“Joel.”

“Yeah, good girl.”

As if the name of the man you loved was magical, you walls relaxed a little, letting in a few inches of his brother’s manhood.

Johnny planted a light kiss on your lips and you felt his thumb graze your clit before he began gently rubbing it.

“Close your eyes, beautiful, let my cock taste your sweet cunt.”

“Oh, fuck, Joel,” you moaned, fully lost in the fantasy, and squeezed your eyelids shut.

“Now breathe. Big breaths, bunny.”

He was whispering praise into your ear, distracting you from the dull pain of the stretch, slowly pushing his length in while his thumb was swirling around your clit.

“Like that, beautiful—yeah, tight little cunt— the tip’s in—good, so good—a little more, baby—my good girl—fuck, it’s almost in—-YEAHHH..”

His triumphant growl mixed with your loud moan when his balls hit your ass and you felt full like never before.

As soon as he sheathed his manhood inside your warm tight cunt, your lips locked, and while your tongues were sliding against each other, you were trying to get used to the feeling of something so long and thick stuffed inside you.

Your walls soon accommodated his cock and the pain slowly dissipated, giving way to pleasure.

“Ima be gentle, baby,” Johnny promised, after breaking the kiss, and languidly rolled his hips into yours. The sensation of his big member moving inside your tight channel made you tilt your head back into the pillow and open your lips in a silent moan.

He didn’t lie. With one hand planted on the bed, the other playing with your clit, he was sliding his cock in and out of your sopping pussy, slowly but surely bringing you closer to the peak. Your greedy hands danced over the slopes of his strong chest, fingers digging into his biceps, nails leaving white marks on his tan skin.

“Yes, Joel—please—so good, Joel,” you were whispering, letting your broken heart believe that the man you had always dreamed about was between your legs at that moment.

Johnny’s greedy eyes couldn’t get enough of you- your lustful expression, your tits bouncing with each thrust, your folds, spread around his base.

“Ya have the wettest pussy, baby. Soakin’ me so good. Look at all that cream.”

With hazy eyes you watched him swipe his thumb over the base of his cock, coated in your pearly juices, and bring it to his lips. He took the finger in his mouth and hummed in pleasure.

Your tongue slid over your lower lip and, taking it as an invitation, Johnny kissed you, sharing the taste of your desire.

You were melting under his unhurried thrusts, but your core needed more and, too shy to ask for it, you began meeting his hips halfway, fucking yourself on his cock harder.

“Mmm, bunny wants more?” Johnny smirked into a corner of your lips.

“Yes, Joh—Joel, please.”

“Of course, beautiful. Let’s make this sweet pussy scream.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he sat up and pulled your hips to himself. You slid one the bed with a gasp and he chuckled before thrusting in harder.

His tip hit your cervix and you grasped the sheets with a moan.

“Hurts, baby?”

“A little.”

He shook his head, grabbed a spare pillow and, after lifting your hips, placed it under your ass.

“Now?” he asked as he pulled his cock out to the tip and then shoved it back inside.

You whimpered when his cock kissed something delicious inside you and the sensation made you clench around his stiff member.

“Like that, yes, yes,” you mumbled, sounding drunk, eyes set on the place where you were joined.

Johnny smiled and rolled his hips again, the stroke hard and deep, and then again and again until he was rutting into you while you were turning into a whimpering, cock-dumb mess.

When he tilted his hips up and drilled his manhood into your cunt, you both saw a bulge appear in your belly and you gasped at the sight. You’d never seen anything like it.

Not stopping, Johnny placed his palm over the lump and tilted his head, watching and feeling his cock move under your skin.

“Fuck, ‘s hot.” He looked mesmerized. “You’re hot, bunny. Shit, gonna come soon. Do it with me.”

His thumb continued dancing on your clit and it took just a few strokes for you to explode. Your pulsating pussy was flattering around his manhood, nerves ablaze, while your juices flooded him inside your core, soaking his hot, soft skin, stretched over his throbbing cock. It was the hardest, most pleasant orgasm of your life and the warmth between your legs spread out, filling your heart with gratitude and affection.

Johnny was unaware of your inner feelings, and as soon as your pussy relaxed around him, he pulled his cock out and after a couple of pumps, started painting your pussy and belly with pearly white ropes of his thick cum.

You watched his balls draw up, his slit push out the load like you’d never seen anything more beautiful. Endorphins in your blood made you feel like you were floating, your limbs pleasantly tingling, and when your eyes met, you gave Johnny a tired, satisfied smile.

He answered it with his lopsided one and plopped on the bed next to you. You were catching your breath for some time until he tucked his softening cock into his jeans, got up and went to the bathroom.

You felt like you couldn’t move a muscle and, when he returned, he helped you to clean up with a wet towel.

“I reckon you ain’t on the pill,” he mumbled, wiping the cum off your skin.

“No. I will be,” you said, glancing up at him but his eyes were set on the task.

When he was done, you reached for him.

“Wanna cuddle?”

To your disappointment Johnny shook his head, and grabbed his tee off the floor.

“Need to go, bunny. I have a thing.”

You sat up, fixing your wrinkled dress, covering yourself up.

“Ok.” Your voice, small and sad, made him pause and he stepped up to the bed and bent down, reaching for you.

His hand cupped your heated cheek and he kissed you before speaking.

“Let’s have dinner tomorrow. At Joel’s.”

You beamed at him, nodding eagerly.

Before leaving he wrote his number on a note and gave you a wink.

“Wear something hot for Joel. And for me.”

You barely slept that night— the memory of your first sex was playing on a loop in your head. Every time you closed your eyes, you felt Johnny’s hands on your body, his cock stretching you, and your pussy ached for him again. You made yourself come twice with your fingers and when the sun was already breaking through the inky sky, only then you fell asleep.

The next day you woke up early and texted Johnny ‘good morning’. He didn’t reply and you thought he must be still sleeping. So you busied yourself with preparations for the dinner— choosing the clothes to wear, makeup, accessories. You wanted to look casual but hot like Johnny had asked you. You decided on a pair of tight jeans and a sexy top and went to the kitchen.

You lied to your parents that in the evening you were meeting a friend. Like always after any party your mom was spilling out all the gossip she’d gathered the day before. Both you and your dad just hummed here and there, not really interested in the boring rumors but suddenly your ears perked up when she mentioned Joel’s twin brother.

”I can’t believe that man. No shame at all.”

She noticed that she finally had your active attention and her eyes lit up.

“What’s wrong with Johnny?” you asked, while fear was creeping up in your chest.

“He’s such a deadbeat brother. Poor Joel.”

It seemed like you stopped breathing altogether, listening to your mother talk about the man who had taken your virginity the day before. She continued,

“Johnny visits him once a year, borrows money and vanishes until the next time he needs it. Joel’s a single father! Working man! And that leach uses his kindness and generosity. Ugh!”

“How do you know all that?” you asked, grasping at the last straw of hope that it was a lie, misunderstanding, baseless rumour.

“Dear, everyone knows that,” your mother laughed and started talking about the other neighbor who had told her and you didn’t hear her anymore. Your thoughts were racing and your heart was pounding loudly in your ears.

You excused yourself and ran to your room.

‘He vanishes’—the words of your mother were ringing in your head, your stomach being twisted by nerves.

You plopped on your bed and called Johnny. He didn’t pick up. You decided to wait. 5 min later you called him again. Nothing.

In three hours you were a nervous mess. You had cried several times, had sent dozens of messages that were unanswered and unread, had called him more times that you wished to admit but hadn’t heard his voice once.

That phone number was the only thing that he had left you, yet you realized that there was another option.

You put on the clothes you’d prepared for the dinner, rinsed your face off your tears as well as you could and headed to Joel’s.

When you knocked on the door, you feared that no one would answer. The uncertainty was suffocating you and your breathing was heavy. All you wished for was to get answers - did the man who had taken your virginity lie to you? Did he use you like a fuck toy and vanished? Was his attention to you just a means to get into your panties?

You were chewing nervously on your lower lip when Joel opened the door. For a second you thought it was Johnny, so much they looked alike but a little ray of hope dissipated when you saw the man’s soft curls.

”Hey, sweetheart,” Joel greeted you, visibly confused by your visit.

You cleared your throat and mumbled,

“Hello. Could I see Johnny?”

Joel opened his mouth and closed it before mumbling,

“Fuck.”

Your heart fell in your stomach when you saw him pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh.

“Sweetheart. Excuse me but— Was he with you yesterday?”

You nodded and he cursed again.

“He told me— he—,” Joel paused, his expression sad and apologetic. ”I’m so sorry, sweetie, but he left this morning. I don’t know what he told you but—.”

He shook his head, looking physically pained to be telling you that.

When all your fears were proven right, you couldn’t keep your despair inside anymore. Tears burst out of your eyes as you were nodding at Joel’s words like everything was alright. Like you weren’t hurt. The tears flowed so much that you barely could see Joel through the wetness in your eyes.

Joel placed his warm hand on your shoulder.

“Please, sweetheart, come inside.”

When you asked Joel about Johnny, he immediately understood that you were the girl he had slept with the previous night. Johnny had bragged about fucking the hottest chick in the neighborhood.

Joel couldn’t believe it had been you, so shy and sweet, he’d never expected Johnny to get his hands on someone so pure and lovely.

He felt horrible for letting his vagabond brother into his home again, and subsequently into your life. When you were sitting in his kitchen, crying quietly, he wanted to comfort you so badly his heart hurt. He placed a hot cup of tea in front of you and you thanked him between sobs. A pang of guilt shot through his heart.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, stepping up to you. He took your hands in his and when you lifted your face and gave him a little smile, your gorgeous eyes full of tears, Joel felt something stir in his heart. Something he hadn’t felt for a long time. It made his breath hitch for a moment.

Even with your face streaked with tears you were so damn beautiful.

Why hadn’t he ever noticed how beautiful you were?

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

MASTERLIST

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40

[schoenpepper]

A Little Birdy Told Me~

Intro: You have two admirers, and someone spread the news that you're in a relationship with the other. How does it go?

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, super rushed, one french word idk, main cast minus ortho and lilia

A/N: Super random idea. I spun the wheel of names and paired them all up and thought, huh, what if they were love rivals? Here we are. Super rushed so it didn't make it to my WIP, too lazy to get to that Jamil songfic.

Masterlist

Silver (Vanrouge) vs Jamil Viper

Silver thinks you’ve made a great choice. Jamil is his peer, and he knows that the other will treat you well. He’s responsible, smart, good with- you’re not together yet? But whenever he sees you two, you always seem so happy with each other. Just friends? …Really? Don’t give him hope. Now that he knows he has a chance, he’ll do as a knight should do and fight for the right to court you, after all, his father taught him to go after what he wants in life, and he craves for your affection. So chivalrous and gentlemanly, he’ll have you swooning when he sweeps you off your feet without even realizing it. If you choose him, everyday that you’re together is another day that he treats you like the royal you are.

Jamil won’t fall for rumors that quickly, if at all. A student from Scarabia should uphold its core values, and that means he’ll find out the truth from you without even seeming too interested. Oh, you’re just friends with Silver? Hm, interesting. He’s saying this because he’s a little worried about your reputation, but someone’s been saying that you and Silver are dating. You should clear up the news, right? Hope you’re hungry, because he just happens to have too many leftovers every meal, everyday. Hey, if you���re struggling with that subject, you can come to his tutoring sessions with Kalim, one more person wouldn’t make a difference. If you choose him, you’ll be each others’ reprieve, his oasis in the desert.

Epel Felmier vs Azul Ashengrotto

Epel is shocked, flabbergasted even. Ya’ sure ya’ want that nasty two-faced (omitted bad words)? He’ll come up to you looking like an absolute mess, demanding the truth. He thinks there’s two ways the rumor could’ve happened in the first place, a) that slimy octopus spread it himself, or b) people are just straight up blind, clearly Azul is no good for you. He’ll amp up the antics now because he wants a fair fight, between real men! Y’know, his grandma taught him how to bake a real mean apple pie, you wanna try it? You have class together, he’ll walk you, and even carry your books for you! All that stuff about how beauty and charm can be power too, don’t be surprised when he uses it on you. If you choose him, he’ll make sure to cherish you always.

Azul is panicking. He’ll make an attempt to verify it of course, but oh what if it’s true and you’re actually together with that little—it’s not true, okay yeah he never believed it for a second—stop laughing, Jade! He doesn’t see Epel as competition for your heart, so he might be a tad bit more confident than he should be. That doesn’t mean he won’t further his efforts though. Fancy candlelit dinner for two where he’s both the chef and the person paying? Foolproof notes for your potionology exam? You need a new set of kitchenware for Ramshackle and you can’t afford it? Gosh, all your problems are miniscule, dear. As for repayment, how about you sign on the dotted line? If you choose him, he’ll put up the suave debonair facade before slowly letting you meet the smart, diligent, resourceful, and sensitive little tako in the tako pot.

Vil Schoenheit vs Idia Shroud

Vil doubts its authenticity right away, by the seven, you wouldn’t really choose Idia of all people, would you? While his reasoning is rather condescending, he finds that he’s not wrong at all, it was just some rumor spread by those with nothing productive to do with their time. If you think he’d ever find Idia threatening in a romantic rivalry, you’d be horribly wrong. Might be a little too sure of himself, but he does as he always has. He sends you products he swears are just extra from PR deals (they’re homemade don’t believe him), takes you shopping because potato, your outfit just isn’t it. He even strings you along to some gigs he has every once in a while. Feel honored, he doesn’t do that for just anyone, he’s a world famous model and actor, after all. If you choose him, you’ll always be pushed to be the best you that you can be.

Idia gets it, really. Anyway, how is he to compete with the sparkly and strict Pomefiore housewarden when Vil is practically perfect or whatever and Idia’s—what’s that, Ortho? You did some digging and it was just fake news? Lol, of course Idia didn’t believe the rumors lmao he’s not some normie who just up and believes lies, information literacy and all that, you know? Plus, he’s a genius, so he’d never ever fall for something like that. Doesn’t leave his room even after everything, but you know that gacha you like? Yeah, you have like a bunch of currency in it now, don’t worry about it. Does your daily grinding and in-game events with you, and if you really insist, then maybe he can go out with you to that movie adaptation that just came out the other day. If you choose him, he’ll let you chill with him whenever wherever (plus his wifi’s nuts).

Ruggie Bucchi vs Cater Diamond

Ruggie is confused, or maybe more nervous. Is it true? He goes about his day and pretends everything’s the same as it’s always been. Hey, Cater’s a real good guy, so you lucked out by snagging him, you know? Haha…it’s not real? Oh thank the seven (no he wasn’t about to cry). That threw him for a real loop right there, and it only forced him to own up to the feelings he’d desperately tried pushing back. So uh, if you need a guy to help out with chores, Ruggie’s real good at getting his hands dirty. Plus, if anything needs repairs, he’s never had enough money to call professionals, so he’s gonna be a dab hand it whether it be the pipes or the wires or the gas. If you choose him, you’ll get a lifetime of laughter and smiles.

Cater skips the ‘everything is ok’ thing and gets right to the ‘crying in his room’. He’s good at covering up his feelings, but he really does like you a lot, so spare him if he’s a little sensitive about this, ‘kay? He’ll be back to normal in no time! Anyway, Ruggie’s nice, if not a bit too clever about the wrong sort of things. So Cater hopes that you two are happy…or whatever. Trey needed to barge into his room to break the news because he wouldn’t leave, and there’s just so much relief, like he can breathe freely again for the first time in a long while. He’s bringing you to all the most cammable spots in town, doing things ‘besties’ do while posting all about it constantly. The guy to share memes and try the newest crazes with. If you choose him, you’ll always have fun at the forefront of the most popular things.

Leona Kingscholar vs Deuce Spade

Leona doesn’t even bat an eye. So? Who cares? As if his herbivore would ever choose that blue-haired little punk. He’s correct in his assumption, but also kind of a jerk about it. Another one to not see the rumored person to be competition at all, but hey, it’s Leona, he’s just smug like that (and way smarter than he’s given credit for). While you do deserve a proper courting and all that jazz, he’s not exactly good with words, so his wallet will have to do as a love language. What, you got a problem with that? Of course you don’t, Crowley never gives you anything nice, but Leona’s a prince, you know? 100% uses you as a pillow whenever and wherever he naps, as long as you’re near, you’re cuddling him and falling asleep in his arms. If you choose him, you’ll always be secure, both financially and in his love for you.

Deuce drives down to the beach, and when he thinks he’ll start shouting in anger, he may or may not break down in sobs instead. But it’s a good choice, he admits, because Leona’s tough and he’s got power and money, and Deuce can only really claim one out of those three things. Almost shouts in happiness when you deny the rumor to his face. So like, you’re single? Then how about studying together? He’ll make you proud by showing you a perfect test score, promise! So cute when he tries to impress you by lifting stuff for you, or opening doors for you, or buying you snacks from the cafeteria when the line’s horribly long. Even offers to introduce you formally to his mom (tell him it’s too early). If you choose him, he will literally protect you with his life.

Riddle Rosehearts vs Jade Leech

Riddle believes the news to be preposterous (he almost chokes on his tea). But, he prefers it to be verified before he takes any sort of action, and when you clear up the air during a tea party he’d invited you to, he feels uncomfortably happy. Jade isn’t anything bad, don’t get him wrong, he rather likes the polite and well-kept young man, but Riddle’s a better option, yes? Suddenly, you have your own exclusive throne at unbirthday parties. What did he hear about you struggling with a subject? He’s an outstanding housewarden and NRC student, so he’ll lend you his freshman notes if you wish for it. You really enjoy certain snacks and a specific kind of tea, you say? It just so happens he enjoys them too, so you can expect your favorites during tea time everytime. If you choose him, a structured and dignified life awaits you.

Jade smiles. What, you don’t seriously think he’ll believe rumors, hm? He keeps tabs on you, of course he knows your relationship status. Riddle is no threat to him or his feelings for you and thus he was never worried for a single second (lying liar who lies). Starts to scope out your possible feelings for him after the incident, also a small (big) possibility that he comes up with some overly elaborate scheme for you to confess to him instead of the other way around. Will fool you into thinking you fell first, and will definitely make you think you fell harder. Dinner dates, hikes, camping—he’s prepared for anything and everything, you don’t need to worry, dear. If you choose him (you will, he’ll make sure of it), prepare for a life of adventure.

Jack Howl vs Ace Trappola

Jack is rather despondent; tail hanging sadly and ears flat on his head. He’ll overthink this, and maybe go for a run to clear his head. Well, you and Ace have always been close, but he thought he had a chance. He genuinely hopes you’ll be happy with Ace. All this directly translates to an ecstatic wolf beastman once the fake news is cleared up. There’s no way he’s letting this chance slip through his fingers, not when you’re right there! Do you need help with carrying that? Do you want to work out with him tomorrow? What, you think it’s too early? No problem, he doesn’t mind pushing the hour back, as long as it means he can go with you. If you choose him, every day will be (leg day lmao) another day of bettering yourself and living to the fullest.

Ace is one hundred percent ready to sabotage you. Yes he loves you, and yes Jack’s his friend or whatever, but there’s just no way in hell he’s giving you up. He’s your first friend in NRC, your best friend too! What’ll happen to him when you’re all lovey dovey with Jack? He’s thankful when you tell him it’s fake (that means he doesn’t have to break you guys up haha), and he tries to hint his affection for you through…interesting means. He’ll do things for you but claim you “totally owe him back” (you never asked), he’ll give you random stuff because he just “found them lying around”, and he gets so clingy and touchy but covers it up with friendship. If you choose him, every day will be exciting and new.

Malleus Draconia vs Kalim al Asim

Malleus is upset. Al Asim is a rather cheerful individual, so perhaps that was the kind of person you preferred to court? He’s not quite well-suited to that, but he will try if he must. When Lilia informs him that it was all a hoax (lightning strikes down whichever poor soul started it), he calms down and gets remarkably happy. You are unattached to any individual romantically, child of man? How lovely. He’s princely and noble in all he does; holding your hand on late night walks while talking about anything and everything, giving you bouquets of your favorite flowers upon every meeting, and what he enjoys most of all, is dancing with you under the gaze of the stars above, even with no music involved. If you choose him, the throne of Briar Valley awaits.

Kalim straight up bawls when he hears the news. You’re with Malleus now? Really? If it makes you happy, then he’s happy (he is not, he is miserable). Malleus is a good guy. But, Kalim is also good, you know? Continues crying when Jamil tells him the good news, but this time from happiness. Well, it’s Kalim, so of course he’ll absolutely lavish you in wealth and luxury beyond your wildest dreams, gold and diamonds and gems galore. He throws banquets in your honor and teaches you how to dance and sing to traditional songs of his hometown, and he hand feeds you bites when he can. His favorite activity with you will always be a magic carpet ride, it’s just so fun, so free and romantic. If you choose him, Scalding Sands will be waiting with open arms and a parade of elephants.

Sebek Zigvolt vs Trey Clover

Sebek doesn’t care. Why would he care that you, an annoying human, is dating another human? All that matters is…Malleus…and he needs to convince himself more that you don’t matter to him, not in that way. He can begrudgingly befriend a human, but he can’t… He tries not to react when someone tells him it’s fake, but he can’t help the beating of his heart or the shaky nerves. Suddenly, you might notice that Sebek is around more often. He will reluctantly help you if you struggle with certain subjects, or even help you carry things even when you seem perfectly capable of doing it on your own. He’s bright red when his hand just barely brushes against yours in the halls. If you choose him, he will be your knight and your protector forevermore.

Trey is mostly confused. He’s hesitant to believe it because Sebek is loud, a little arrogant, and perhaps a bit obnoxious—the complete opposite of Trey. His disbelief is proven right, and he takes a big sigh of relief. He really doesn’t know what he would’ve done had it been real. Hope you like sweets, because now you’re invited to every tea party ever in Heartslabyul, courtesy of their vice housewarden. He’ll bring pastries and cookies and puddings and cakes to you every other day, as mama said, the way to the heart is through the stomach, right? He might also give you a set of toothbrushes and his preferred brand of toothpaste in order to make sure that your teeth are unharmed by his sweets. If you choose him, he will be your safe haven in the chaos.

Rook Hunt vs Floyd Leech

Rook is very happy for you, after all, what else is more beau than young love? He’ll clasp his hands together and spout some lengthy poem about intertwined hearts, but no one will ever notice his own as it breaks. Floyd is a very interesting person, Rook is glad you’ve found your one! But it doesn’t take long before he finds out the truth, and when he does (he’ll hunt down the source), best believe he’s skipping over to you and doing his best to serenade you with nothing but his bow as an instrument. He’ll teach you how to use it too if you want, perhaps a kiss will be enough as repayment? Just on the cheek. An arrow will fly through your window everyday with a scroll filled with words praising your beauty and kindness, so you better keep it open. If you choose him, you’ll learn how to see the beauty of the world even if it all seems dark.

Floyd is ready to fight! You, or that weird seagull, or whoever told him the news, everyone’s in for a real good squeeze. He’s pouty and annoyed and his mood is at an all-time low, beware all those who cross his path. He’ll find you to hear the news directly from you, so you better deny it quick before his squeeze breaks your ribs. Eh? It’s a lie? That’s so boring (he’ll hurt the source of this news for sure). Now you have a clingy eel always by your side, if he was clingy before this whole thing, he’s inseparable from you now. He’ll cook you something nice at the lounge if he feels like it, and you’re automatically invited to basketball practice whether you like it or not (please come, the team is begging you). If you choose him, one thing’s for sure, you’ll never be bored again!